#sorry this post has not one goddamn thing to do with blossom

[lunarriviera]

[bursts into tunglr like the koolaid man] hello and welcome to the world of the d—WAIT WHAT. WHAT IN THE HOLY NAME OF X NINE IS THIS NONSENSE, YOU TAKE HIS NAME OUT YOUR MOUTH

bc are you kidding me rn iqiyi??? has he done all this work for nothing??? MONSTER HUNT TWO jesus crust i'm literally unaliving LISTEN TO ME CAREFULLY: RUAN NANZHU DID NOT SOB IN THE SPARKLY GALACTIC VOID OF THE AFTERLIFE FOR YOU TO PUT THIS DISRESPECT ON HIM. GUANGGUANG DID NOT MAKE DEWY FUCKING HEARTEYES AT HUANG JUNJIE FOR TWENTY-SIX SOLID HOURS FOR YOU TO SAY HE WAS IN MONSTER HUNT 2 here iqiyi allow me to assist you, chat suggested some alternatives:

"from other things such as." and just leave it there "i guess he's been in some stuff idk" "from … you know" "xia zhiguang [redacted]" "xia zhiguang, who…cough…right, um, so, anyway—" just the eyes emoji 👀 "xia zhiguang (👀)"

then someone said:

(he doesn't even have a character name in monster hunt)

and then i said:

SPODOIFUPSDIJFHPSDKJFK pIZHDF_PS(EDOIUF{S)D"PIF A{}EF)( YU}PS(_FDO}MOSP"YFD HS{ i'm gonna cut a bithc

[corrodedbisexual]

Love blooms, love hurts, love prevails

Steddie | M | angst (but the bittersweet kind) with a happy ending | ~5.5k

AO3 link

The flower sickness is ruthless; its seeds grow on love, and if love is locked away in secret, inside the cage of one's heart, nowhere to go, it will eventually kill its host. When Eddie starts coughing up blooms for Steve, he has no choice but to confess his feelings. He never expected his straight friend to reciprocate; but at least his worst fears don't come true, Steve still seems happy to have him around. And, with his feelings out in the open, Eddie's no longer at risk of choking to death on another flower, so there's that to be thankful for. After overcoming some initial awkwardness, Eddie finds joy in whatever closeness he can have, in Steve just letting him love him in small, seemingly insignificant ways. Their friendship grows, eventually blurring the edges between platonic love and something more.

So, uh. I read this post about hanahaki with a twist and immediately became obsessed. I mean. OBSESSED. Huge thanks to OP @lovedumbandbroke for this inspo. I am kissing their brain.

@sidekick-hero thanks for the encouragement my dear! 🧡

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

"Son, you can't go on like this."

Eddie's uncle sits next to him on his bed, rubbing his back gently as Eddie still wheezes, struggles to get his breathing back to normal. A giant, fist-size peony blossom lies on the floor in front of him, looking pretty and innocent, as if it hasn't just nearly choked him to death. 

“Whoever it is," Wayne insists. "You gotta tell him. I know it’s scary.” 

“Terrifying,” Eddie croaks, wincing. Using his vocal chords right after another… incident, always feels like sandpaper on the inside of his throat. 

“I know, buddy. Look,” Wayne pulls on his shoulder, makes him look up. “What’s the worst thing you think will happen? Can he hurt you?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, confident. At least there’s one thing he’s sure about. “No, he wouldn’t. I think…” He takes a breath that’s suddenly a little too deep for his lungs, and he coughs again; thankfully, no petals come out this time. He takes another careful sip of water from the glass his uncle brought. “I think he just wouldn’t wanna be around me anymore. And that would really, really suck.”

They sit in silence for a moment. 

“Promise me you’ll do something about this, Eddie,” Wayne finally asks. “I just… I can’t keep wondering if you’re gonna make it through the night.” 

Eddie lets out a sigh, is grateful for the lack of coughing to accompany it, despite the burning in his chest.

“Yeah. Okay. I will.” He nods, determined. “I’ll tell him. Tomorrow. M’sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s my job to worry.” Wayne squeezes his shoulder once more before standing up. “I’m gonna make some mint tea, should be good for your throat.”

When his uncle leaves the room, Eddie picks up the flower, absentmindedly starts tearing the petals off of it, one by one. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, his brain stupidly supplies, and oh no, he’s not doing that. He throws the tattered remains of the flower across the room, experiencing mild satisfaction when it lands right inside the trashcan. 

Eddie flops back on the mattress with a frustrated groan. Fuck, he was so careful. His whole teenage life, he stayed far away from all the straight pretty boys, precisely for this reason. They were dangerous. Getting close to anyone that way was dangerous, he knew he had the seeds of the disease in him; his mother died from it, too scared of his father to do something about the feelings she had for another person. 

And just as he was almost safe, has almost graduated, almost out of Hawkins and on his way to Indianapolis or Chicago or any other place he had a real shot of meeting someone he could be with… Steve goddamn Harrington had to barge into his life, literally save him from the brink of death, and then stick around, god knows why, maybe just to torture Eddie with his stupid doe eyes and sunshine smiles. 

The rest on AO3

[gabriel-grimm]

Ah. Sorry I haven’t posted anything yet haha, I’ve been busy working on other things. But honestly I am highly considering posting some of my other ProjectMoon-related art/ocs/projects on blogs that are more meant for them. 

Because Grimmcorp is such a HUGE project and story my beloved friends and I have been working so hard on, I would like to ensure that we do not spoil anything for anyone. I feel that it would not be the same experience with the forbidden knowledge that we developers/writers of the story have. (But even then, I’ve almost cried thinking about the concepts we would like to present in these stories and characters) So with that being said, there is only so much I can post without posting spoilers of any kind. Rest assured, I will be making content for it and trying to branch out a little more. 

Now for the other side of things. I am HIGHLY considering making a blog called “The Mortem Office” for Gensai’s part of the family. Everything in Grimmcorp flows like the blood in our human veins; it all connects to everything. And also I am a groveling stickler for organization haha. But at the VERY least it lets me post about Gensai, his family, and everything else without spoiling things as well as what the Mortem Office is all about. [ Hilariously as well, Gensai started as a Lobotomy Corporation nugget. Rest assured he still is one in his whole narrative, but he has blossomed into so much more and I am so excited to show you all some of his character refs/POVs!!]

I am genuinely so excited to share this story my friends and I have cultivated and pour our hearts into. It means so much to me that they’ve dedicated their time to helping me and I hope I’ve been able to reciprocate. For now, however, you are going to have to wait, but I promise I will do my best to deliver. <33

-> Asides from that, thank you PM/Lobcorp/Lor Fandom for being very silly and cool! It means SO much to me to see everyone’s comments/reblogs and everything on my posts/art. It makes my day so goddamn much, thank you all!  💜 🐍

[pan-fried-autism]

We would like to hear your thoughts on animation and capitalism

its mostly about animation BUUUTTTTT

on one of the last days of 9th grade, me and two friends somehow got into a conversation about how far strawberry shortcake has fallen.

like, for one, 75% of the characters were gone. there were like 5 characters remaining by 2018. we joked they were just dead. and the designs were getting much more mediocre and or bad, and were rarely actually good anymore.

lets look at the history of the designs, actually. shall we?

I want to not beforehand, she apparently existed as far back as 1973, but i cant actually find ay good pictures of it :(

Back in the 80s, long before I was born, she and her friends were mostly used in greeting cards. I think the character designs match this pretty well! Even back then they had cute yet creative designs, like PERFECT for greeting cards. They look like they would greet you as they ride their bikes to school in the morning. They look like they help their parents pick the best apples to use in a pie. I'd say its all a solid 8/10. i like strawberrys design the most tbh

she also had a tv series and there were actually more characters but this picture had the most

In the 90s I guess strawberry got a redesign? cant find any other info about other characters lol

this one is like a 7.5/10. only cuz theres like a LITTLE less personality

and heres my favourite! 2003!

This was one of the ones I grew up watching, besides the godforsaken Version That Will Be Named Later. Already you can see that these are pretty good. Look at that variety! The personality! Literally the only thing samey about them is the faces, but tbh that doesnt matter too much. The only one I feel is medicore is Huckleberry Pie because he looks like most of the guys at my school now.

This one? Like a 9/10 probably.

Heres 2007, with bits of redesigning!

Apple Dumplin (the shorter one) grew up a little, Huckleberry looks worse and now just looks like every guy in my neighbourhood, but other than that not THAT much of a difference, besides some hair style changes.

7.5/10 purely for Huckleberry (sorry ]:)

(Addendum: Strawberry got another design in 2005 but i wont talk about it. its a 7.75/10)

And now... we've arrived. 2009.

Prepare yourselves.

Jesus Christ, where do I begin?

First, let's tackle this new evolved form of Same Face Syndrome. You know how back in previous years they had very similiar facial features but it didnt really matter that much? This is just Same Goddamn Character syndrome. Literally they all look the same. Long hair, sleeved shirt, skirt, stripped leggings, shoes, headwear/hair accesory, with some minor aditions to set them apart in some way. There is no personality. Just sameness.

Second, their age appearance. They are supposed to be kids. They portrayed this well before now. The oldest she was back then was 16, and that was because there was a time skip during the 2003 series. Here? They are supposed to be 17-19. And I don't know why. It's weird to me. I didn't notice this as a kid tho because i was like preschool age when the 2009 series came out. Tbh it WOULD be okay for me now if they didn't look like Swifties or whatever. I want kid them back.

My third problem is what they did to the character Orange Blossom, but to talk about that would require a bit more detail into her own character design history, which I kinda wanna get into on its own post, so I'll just get into my fourth problem: the worsenning of Huckleberry.

I don't even know who or what he looks like. He's just some fucking teenager. His design tells me NOTHING about him at all.

2/10.

2017 series that IDK anything about, or even if it was made in the first place. There was a 2018 series too but considering it was just the 2D version of the 2009 one I choose to ignore it.

This one, despite looking kinda generic, is an upgrade from the 2009 "series". Everyone still has like the same body type, but they also have different hair and clothing! You actually have an idea of what they may be like! They also temporarily killed Huckleberry Pie and ended his eternal torment in design hell.

6/10 from me.

We have reached the final stage.

This one is the 2021 Netflix(?) series. I don't know anything about it and only recently heard of it. It's a small upgrade from 2017, but an upgrade nonetheless.

They, for once, have different face shapes. Secondly, theres more variety to the clothes again! Huckleberry Pie (guy who kinda looks like Five Glitch Techs) finally has a decent character design. The only one I don't like is Sour Grapes, the purple haired girl with the white shirt. She realy does look like someones niece Ashley tbh.

6.5/10.

And that's all! I wanna tackle the character design histories of just one person, mainly Orange Blossom and Plum Pudding (and possibly Strawberry herself) but that's too much to tackle in one post so I'll leave it here for now and make separate posts about them at a later date.

In summary, Strawberry Shortcake started out with good characters designs that got better as time went on, until 2009 when they went downhill on a 75 degree angle, but they seem to be coming back.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Please continue Paranoid Bella,please, please, please I'm begging you muffin, I need to know. What happens if Billy does call Carlisle and tell him about his son's stalking and grooming shenanigans? What does Carlisle do? The poor man would just about die from embarrassment. Also, how is Charlie letting Bella move in with the Blacks? The need to know is just too great .

Anon is referring to Paranoid Bella, a character so popular on this blog, she now has a master post. Specifically, anon wants to know about the forbidden spin-off, in which Bella sought sanctuary with Billy and... bad things I refuse to touch happened.

Billy, notably, decided not to talk to Carlisle, Papa Vampire, because he assumed that Edward making Bella Dracula's Bride was typical demon behavior that Carlisle Cullen approved of.

But your second question first, since that's more in line with the original post.

How is Charlie Letting Bella Move in With the Blacks?

Because Bella pulls her typical canon bullshit on her dad. I don't know what excuse she comes up with, it's probably terrible, but dammit she does it all the same.

CHARLIE, SHE IS MOVING IN WITH JAKE AND BILLY. PEACE OUT.

Charlie has no idea what to do with this and asks Billy what the hell is going on. Billy can't really explain it and just assures Charlie that it's cool, he'll look out for Bella.

Billy is Charlie's best friend, and this is long before Jake inexplicably dumps Bella after Bella had been dumped by Edward, so he's going to trust this.

Of course, he's deeply hurt and assumes that it's about him: that Bella found him smothering or a terrible father or something, but he tries to let Bella live her own life and hopes she still wants to talk to him.

Bella probably meets up with him on weekends (in La Push) to have breakfast and things. Bella feels really shitty but she'd rather not be eaten by a vampire and figures Charlie, if he knew, would prefer that too.

Billy Decides to Talk to Carlisle

But alright, picking up where we left off, Paranoid Bella early in Twilight drives to Billy's, tells him Edward the demon is in her room every night, and Billy has his panic moment.

He considers his options.

The tribe has only one wolf, the very young and inexperienced Sam, to protect their lands. The Cullens have brought an unprecedented number of demons to Forks: if it comes to war then Sam cannot defend their territory against the vampires. They are simply too outnumbered.

Forks is not in the tribe's territory, technically, while if Bella were to be bitten it would break the treaty, Edward Cullen can creep in her room all he likes. However, it's not very in the spirit of the treaty.

Billy thinks about this long and hard, perhaps looks up Ephraim's personal accounts of meeting the Cullens, and from those determines that Ephraim, as the tribe leader, seemed to genuinely think Carlisle Cullen was an honorable man who would abide by this treaty.

Billy questions Bella further and she admits that it's only been Edward Cullen, in the dead of night, and that Edward seems to be trying to keep his family unawares. None of the other Cullens have ever approached her and the one time she met Carlisle Cullen he acted as a perfectly professional doctor: Edward only started grilling her after the man had left the room.

There's a chance he doesn't know.

If Billy truly wants to protect his people, Bella Swan, then perhaps he needs to make a leap of faith and bring Carlisle Cullen back to the negotiating table.

Billy calls Carlisle Cullen: We need to talk about your fucking demon son.

Carlisle feels a growing pit of terror in his stomach as he realizes what this must be about. Carlisle hadn't seen all the signs, per Midnight Sun, Edward had made a habit of leaving the house at night long before Bella and none of the Cullens know that he spent his midnight hours sneaking into her fucking bedroom (except, of course, Alice who gives her full support). Edward in general does his best to keep everybody, but especially Carlisle, thinking well of him in general.

However, Edward did return when the wiser action would have been to never come back to Forks, against Carlisle's counsel. He does seem to have a blossoming obsession with Bella Swan that Carlisle simply does not understand. And he's been acting erratic, paranoid, and weird. Happier than he's ever been, hooray for that, but Carlisle is notably not on Team Bella/Edward until he realizes that somehow, due to Bella Swan being in his life, Edward has become a better person (and even then he's not... necessarily gung ho).

Billy calling, somehow, Carlisle knows this must be about Edward, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Then it gets worse. Alice is desperately telling Carlisle not to go, if he goes then the coven falls apart.

Carlisle panics, "What the fuck?!" Alice has to clarify that, no, the treaty isn't broken but--Well, you know how sometimes it's better not to know everything about those around us? Carlisle doesn't know. He and Alice stare at one another, Alice begs him to please, for the love of god, don't talk to Billy.

Send Esme instead.

Carlisle does not send Esme.

As for Edward himself, those goddamn nosy tribe members are ruining his schemes! How dare they get between him and Hamburger and--

Sorry, anon, we return to this blog's BSOD state. There is no path further from here. This is the end of the road. THERE IS NO MORE. THIS IS THE END.

You have asked the ask that cannot be addressed.

Gooday.

[h2bakugou]

🍀 hello! I have a suggestion

How would the class 1 a boys react to you both getting recognized in public as "the secret class 1 a couple?!" And seeing it on the news or social media, Before yous are dating. Hope this makes sense 💖

a/n: hi!! this is super cute! i decided to do a bunch of the boys from 1-a, i didn’t get to do all of them, but this is certainly a cute idea!!

headcanon: them reacting to news of being a couple before they’re actually a couple

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

It happens during a training battle with class 1-B. 

It’s just a little get together, the two classes joining for some competitive training.

You’re working with Bakugou since he tolerates you the most, which he would gladly chose you over Beavis and Butt-Head Kirishima and Kaminari.

He also has a crush on you but that’s a secret teehee.

You got one on him too so don’t act all innocent.

But of course, Monoma happens to be one of the members of the group you face off with.

He’s just messing with you, teasing you. Calling you pet names like Angel or Honey.

He’s doing it ‘cause it clearly pisses Bakugou off.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners, flirting with your significant other.” Monoma apologizes as he slaps Bakugou’s shoulder, activating his quirk.

“We’re not dating!?” You yell as you charge at the blonde that isn’t your crush.

“So you mean the entire class has been lying to me?” Monoma pouts.

After training, Bakugou asks you out, stating he’d been thinking of doing it sooner but he had been caught up with staying top of the class-

He was most certainly jealous.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

HIS MOM. PLEASE. IT’S HIS MOM AND ALL MIGHT THAT ARE LIKE YOOO CONGRATS ON yOU TWO GETTING TOGETHER.

Like legit, Deku’s in some parent-teacher conference and All Might is like ‘many things are blossoming, such as young love.’

And his mom is just like ‘finally you and y/n got together, about damn time.’

And Deku’s just like ????? IM SORRY????////

Literally races over to you and is like

“They think we’re together-”

And you’re just like

“Well damn we should be” *lip bite*

Deku blushes but asks you out on the spot so he doesn’t have to explain to his mom that it wasn’t like that.

Lowkey he had the biggest crush on you and was just really nervous that you were too occupied with studies to even notice him.

His mom is so proud of him, probably throws him a party or something for your first official date- please i love her 

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Tell me why I think this fool finds out about the whole ‘secret couple’ thing from Dabi-

It’s just so bad that it’s absolutely perfect.

Tell me that this crispy ass patchwork villain would not take every opportunity to tease Shoto.

“So you came here to fight me with your true love? Perhaps romance isn’t dead.”

Literally about to light his ass on fire and Shoto’s just frozen-yeah go on laugh I know you want too-and just stares at this dude like??? 

come again? pardon?

Deadass looks over at you and just raises an eyebrow.

“I think he thinks we’re a couple.” You fill in the blanks and Todoroki eventually nods.

“Well yes, they are indeed my true love, but I think this might be a bit extreme for a first date. Perhaps when we’re done beating your ass, I can take them out for dinner.”

chivalry isn’t dead *heart eye emojis*

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

Honestly with the flirty comments you litter under each other’s social media posts, google probably be recommended y’all relationship stuff, those little heart lamp message things, matching necklaces, technology was dropping all the hints.

No but Kirishima probably just assumes you’re together when Kaminari brings you along to one of the mall trips they usually go on.

“Dude you finally asked them out, sick, took you long enough.” 

Cue red Kaminari. Man is a tomato. Like he just turns to you shaking throwing a thumbs up.

“Awe, you like me?” You give him a hug and kiss his cheek, shoving your hand in his.

“Yeah, totally, I mean who wouldn’t.” Kaminari is back to being smug, he’s got a pretty person’s hand in his own he is now taken JSFSJFJ

He will literally be in debt to Kirishima for getting the two of you together. Like he’s deadset on somehow repaying Kirishima.

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

Two words. Katsuki Bakugou.

Kirishima is super sweet, like I just see him doing a bunch of really nice stuff for you, helping you carry things to your dorm, or like maybe doing your hair if you asked.

Bakugou is extremely observant and will just watch how y’all act but like he’s finally so tired of watching you act like a couple. He knows you two have to be a thing so why hasn’t Kirishima mentioned it.

WHY IS BKAUOGU MAD THAT KIRISHIMA IS LIKE NOT SAYING HE”S TAKEN DUDE FKSFKSJI JUST KNOW HE WOULD BE SJFSKFSJK

“We get it you’re together! Just cut the sappy shit already!” Bakugou snaps randomly one day because you’re just sitting in his lap because all the couch seats are taken.

Your cheeks burn and Kirishima’s face turns the same crimson color as his hair.

“Dude we’re-”

“Friends.” You finish, but there’s a hint of sadness.

“You certainly don’t act like. Fucking ask each other out already goddamn.”

Do what he boss says.

Kirishima brings you pretty flowers and asks you out, literally taking you on a date when you say yes, god he’s so sweet love him kiss kiss.

»»————-　★　————-««

tenya iida

»»————-　★　————-««

Honestly, I think Aizawa’s gonna just have to lecture Iida on social cues. ‘Cause Iida may seem like he’s just being a good class rep, but walking you to and from class, carrying your bag, and tucking hair behind your ear are most certainly beyond what classifies as ‘class rep behavior.’

A bunch of students from class 1-a are gonna be really suspicious, whispering around, making plans to try and catch it happening.

Sure enough, Iida’s carrying your bag as you walk back toward the dorm building, your pinkies just barely touching, before you finally heave a sigh and interlock yours with his.

Kaminari can’t hold in his excitement, congratulating the navy-haired class rep on scoring such a hottie.

“I’m confused, you’re congratulating me-”

“Because you finally asked (y/n) out!” Iida just turns red and stares at you.

“No no, I think you may have misinterpreted!”

“Really? On god? Just like that?” You pout, lowering your head.

“No! I...” 

Iida quite literally has to prove he likes you by kissing you in front of the class. Guess it’s not really a secret anymore.

»»————-　★　————-««

hanta sero

»»————-　★　————-««

Much like Kirishima, Bakugou and/or Kaminari and/or Kirishima play a big role in ‘exposing’ the two of you.

Late nights in each other’s dorm playing video games?

Wearing each other’s sweaters?

Picnics and walks together?

Yeah try convincing off-brand pikachu, red robin, and the fitness gram pacer test you’re not together.

the fitness gram pacer test bit sounded much better in my head but i didn’t really have any other funny nickname for bakugou other than johnny test which made about as much sense as the fitness gram pacer test.

“Yo we’re going to the mall!” Kaminari is the first to spill the plans for the weekend.

“Oh shoot alright-”

“I meant us. Don’t you have a date with (Y/n)?” Kaminari points to the rest of the group, excluding you and Sero who sat side by side, under a knitted blanket.

“Uhm, Kaminari we’re-”

“Oh no, I know you like them.” Kaminari leans in really close to Sero’s face before squishing his cheeks and turning him to face you.

“I’m so sorry.” Sero whispers to you.

You roll your eyes and lean over, planting a kiss on his cheek, earning a few cheers from Mina and Kaminari who pretty much played matchmaker.

Sero takes you out on a date when they plan to go to the mall, but it was really all a ruse to spy on you on your date.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[inkbyajm]

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words  :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

< previous    next >

Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way. 

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?” 

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late. 

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly. 

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓

                                             (  ~ Kakashi Hatake x Gender Neutral                                                                                                          Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Naruto: Shippuden

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There’s smut towards the end! (Thigh riding and overstim, etc.) Nothing too hardcore, but it’s worth noting.

SUMMARY: I really hope this is sort of what you were leaning towards! I haven’t watched Naruto in years so I had to refresh my memory a little and do HELLA research, but I hope I didn’t disappoint! This is Kakashi with a bratty reader! There’ll be a small oneshot (probably posted later today) to follow this because music inspired me lmao.

WORD COUNT: This is just a headcanon/imagine so N/A REQUESTED BY: @impromptuxprompts

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

We all know that Kakashi is a pretty stoic man, right?

Like literally NOTHING pisses this man off.

Or like.. At least until he gets you, Reader-Chan.

But here’s the thing, you decide to try and make him break at least a little bit.

Despite what people may think, he’s generally pretty vanilla.

He also has really bad nightmares; being too hardcore could send him into a bad state.

But not everything needs to be rough all the time. You like how cuddly he is.

But he’s ONLY cuddly towards you. And when you both are alone.

He’s DEFINITELY the type to always try and teach you something.

Like, “Kashi! I’m gonna put my hand on the stove!”

And you’d think he’d be like, “No… You shouldn’t do that.” Right?

Wrong.

He just shoots you THE most unimpressed look, crosses his arms, and leans against the wall and nods his head a little like.

“…. Hm… Go ahead.”

You just STARE like homeboy you’re REALLY gonna just let me… Put my hand on the stove like that?

And then he’d watch you wimp out and whine and he’d reward you with a forehead kiss.

You get happy for a second, but goddamn what is this man thinking about? Like you can NEVER tell with him.

But you can’t get mad at him; he knows ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about romance.

This dude REALLY tried to call you “his favorite kunai” before he settled on Blossom. And you had to tell him why you being “his favorite kunai” was an issue because he honestly thought he’d gotten the hang of it.

He’s watching TV and you’re reading a book and decide to dress in one of his sweaters with nothing on underneath.

I mean NOTHING. Like, no underwear, no shirt- nothing.

And I mean the only reaction you get out of him is a small “Hm…” And his eyes widen a little and that seems like that’s all it is.

As you’re pouting, you don’t notice his eyes slowly raking over your body, he just doesn’t blush or anything because this man could keep a poker face if someone had a gun to his head.

And you just stomp your foot a little like. “Am I not beautiful enough for you or something?”

This time you get a bit of a reaction but he just blows his hair out of in front of his eye.

You both have a set of rules that you follow, and in exchange, he lets you eat sweets before dinner and before bed, and he also has to keep his mask off the entire time he’s at home.

“What do you mean? You’re just fine,” he says in that soft, cold tone of his. His eyes linger a little on the hoodie misforming your body.

He loves it actually. He loves how all of the little folds hug you and he knows it smells like him.

He also knows that it’s your comfort blanket of sorts, so of course he knows that something’s wrong with you.

“Come here, Blossoml,” he says softly and he pats his lap.

“No.”

He looks a bit taken back.

Surprised? No. Disappointed? Absolutely.

He notices that you don’t have the little bear he gave you with him and he raises an eyebrow.

“Where’s your toy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He just sighs quietly and you smirk thinking that you won.

“I’m guessing you don’t want any sweets after dinner tonight then?”

“Mm-mm. Nope.”

You a whole damn lie. And he knows it.

He tries to go through and think about why you’re acting like such a brat today and he remembers that you get like this when you guys haven’t had sex in awhile.

It’s been almost a month.

He does this thing where he tries to deprive himself of things that makes him feel good or makes him happy, but he does it in such a way that you don’t ever recognize it.

“Why should I get to live free and feel good and be happy and my comrades can’t even feel anymore?” That’s what he always said to try and make an excuse for it.

He’s WAY more laid back now than he was years ago though, but he still has some of his same habits.

But it’s too late. You’ve already pushed the brat act and noticed he’s slightly started to get agitated.

He sat back and leaned forward, his elbows rested on his knees, his eyebrows furrowed just a little, his lips just a little pursed.

You were standing right in front of him and you shifted uncomfortably under his intense blanketed gaze.

“K-Kashi-“

“I’m going to ask you one last time, Blossom. Where’s. Your toy?”

“U-Uhm…”

He knows how difficult you are when you get like this, so instead of counting down from 10 or some shit, he spells out his name, and with each letter, his gaze gets more intense.

“K….A….K…..A…..S……”

You start to whine and his eyebrows only furrow more and he stands up, your resolve now nonexistent. “H….”

“I-It’s under the bed and I can’t reach it! I’m sorry!”

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What’s gotten into you today, Blossom?

“NOTHING!”

“Inside voices.”

He taps the side of his head and you nod. That was the signal for him sort of telling you to tone it down a little and you abide to avoid aggravating him.

He walks into the room and kneels down, gently collecting the bear from under the bed.

You thank him and hug him as you chitter quietly and he still has no idea what to do with his hands so he just pats your head.

“If you wanted me to grab your bear for you then why didn’t you just ask?”

You pout and bury your head in his chest. He never really understood the point of people being a great but with YOU he seemed to tolerate WAY more than he would with anybody else.

“I-I… I d-don’t know,” you say quietly.

He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back, his eyes guiding you to one of his thighs.

“This is what you wanted right? Sincerest apologies for not being able to give more… But this is all I can offer at the moment,” he speaks quietly as you walk closer.

He gently takes you by the waist and positions his legs right in between yours, slowly lowering you how he knows you like it.

Before you move- or before he lets you move- you just stop as you notice his eyes locked on yours.

He gently takes your chin in his hand and makes you look at him.

“The next time you need something, just ask. Why do you insist on being a brat?”

You whine more but immediately shut up when you see his sleepy expression.

“B-Being a brat is the only way to get your attention on me! I don’t like it when you’re sad! I want you to be… MINE. Not your mind’s…”

He allows you to fully sit on his thigh, slowly guiding your hips to ride it as he spoke to you.

“Blossom… No. You’re all mine, for sure, you’re just not observant.”

You open your mouth to protest but he puts one of his soft fingers into your mouth so you can’t and you just suck on it contently while listening to him talk to you.

“I notice when and why you act like a brat. Hm? I know that you want this,” he gestures to you. “And so much more. However, I need you to recognize that I’m not like… Most men out here… I’m not normal… I’m so sorry if I seem so distant, truly. I’m *not,* I promise. I just… Don’t equate sex with attention… And I don’t really have a drive for it, yknow? Like…. Just… I don’t know what it is… But I know for sure that it’s not on you.”

You liked it when you both had your heart to hearts. Especially like this.

He wasn’t an especially hard Dom, he always found out what it was you wanted, questioned you on why you thought you deserved what you were claiming you did and made sure you’d been taking care of yourself before he gave it to you. He didn’t like being too rough so he made sure that every action he made was soft and gentle.

You didn’t like gentle all the time, so you’d let him know and then guide him into what you were craving in the moment.

When he choked you for the first time, he was a bit scared but he was also confused. — “U-Uh… People like this s-sort of thing…? Why?”

He also gives REALLY great spankings, but he’s also confused as to why people like being hit too. (Aren’t we all.)

You listen to him and realize that the two of you have had this talk before. You don’t like that he felt forced to tell you this again especially when you knew that it made him uncomfortable.

“Blossom… I’ll do my best for you, okay? I’ll be normal and just like everyone else… At least in terms of expressing my feelings to you… But for now, work the brat out of your system by riding on my thigh.”

You did as instructed, sucking hard on his fingers, your eyes glazed over as you rest your hand on his chest for support as he started to slowly bob his leg for you.

He was okay with one of many things, however, and that was praising you. He always took the chance to praise you, especially whenever you did well, but he took extra care when you were in your moods.

He also knew you liked it when he moaned or when he made noise for you so that you knew you were doing good, so he did just that too.

Whenever you rode his thigh, he always took special care of you, holding your waist and guiding your sex into the hardest part of his thigh.

Bonus points if you’re wearing his shirt, or anything of his really.

He always likes to graze his nails over your skin too because of the goosebumps it gives you.

He watches you make a mess of his thigh, feeling your legs tremble around his and this gives him a smile. It’s VERY subtle, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

“That’s right Blossom, just keep grinding into me just like that… You’re being so good for me baby, don’t stop until you’re satisfied,” is what he often reminds when you’re close.

Occasionally when your leg brushes past or presses into his bulge, he returns the favor and he grinds against your leg subtly, but it’s still there.

And the best part?

He always lets those moans and whimpers out in your ear for you to soak up.

He doesn’t like it when you call him daddy; he just doesn’t. However, he does allow you to call him “Mister” or “Sir” to make up for it.

By this point you’re about ready to cum right there and you know, he’s never held you back from an orgasm, so this should be easy, right?

Wrong…. Kinda.

He tells you to slow down and you just stare up at him in disbelief.

Tf did he mean “sLoW dOwN”

So you whine a little, but then he slaps your ass and you’re just like :O

And a VERY fleeting smirk shows up on his face.

You abide and he pulls your hips down against his lap harder and then you jolt and dig your nails into his chest.

“W-What a-are you doing S-Sir?”

He pushes his fingers deeper in your mouth to shut you up and while you’re riding his thigh, his hips are grinding into your leg and he brings you closer.

Of course, as if he hadn’t already, he broke your very fragile bratty demeanor and he knew he did too.

He nibbled at your ear while all of his sweet little groans flooded into your ear.

He also hiked his leg up hard and that caused to to bite down on his fingers a little as you arched your back.

He lets out a hollow laugh in your ear because he knows that you’re holding back an orgasm.

“Didn’t I tell you to go until you were satisfied? So why are you holding back?” His eyebrows furrow a little and you try not to cum but that doesn’t really last long.

He starts to nibble on your neck with a soft growl and he forces your hips faster against his leg, but you know you’re in trouble now because he starts to spell his name after every single nibble.

“You have until I finish spelling my name,” he said quietly in your ear as if you both were in public.

“H…. A…. T…”

You’re trying again to hold on, and his fingers latch on to your tongue a little not making any of this easier.

Naturally, you start to drool; so you’re a mess on his lap trying to keep from bursting over his leg right then and there. I mean come on, he just started spelling.

“A…K…E… K…A…K…”

You can’t really hold on anymore and he smirks, pleased with himself as you tremble on his thigh, your nails digging into his skin, your toes curling as you try to push yourself onto his thigh more but also try to pull away because you’re so overtimed you could barely take it.

“A.. S…” He laughed quietly as his nips became a little harder, your orgasm only intensifying.

“H… I…” He mumbled quietly as he finished spelling his name into you.

You didn’t know what kind of hold he had on you but you loved it, and you were such a mess on his lap, trembling with labored breathing, you try to stay upright but find it hard to as you’re about to pass out.

“Have you finally got that brat out of your system or should I…” He jolted his leg up into your sex and you whimper loudly looking like you’re about to cry, your eyes widening a little.

“N-No sir! No more! I-I c-can’t take anymore,” you murmur out quietly. “P-Please let’s just cuddle…. I w-want you w-with me,” you whimper. It was apparent to him that you were slipping into subspace and he knew just how to take care of you.

“Don’t worry, you’ve been a good baby for me,” he said softly, gently kissing the side of your head as he picked you up.

He allowed you to lean into him before he laid you on the bed. You were still extremely sensitive and trembling, letting go of him as you let the bed hug you instead.

You knew what time it was so you didn’t complain when he left.

He came back a moments later with a few things; a bag of chocolates he reserved for this occasion, a few candles with a lighter, his cologne, and your favorite lotion.

He lights the candles first and then he places them around the room. The sweet warm scents now filling the area around your room.

He then walks over to you on the bed and he slides into the bed, turning on the TV to some cartoons, warming up a dollop of lotion in his hands.

“Is this what you want to watch, Blossom?”

You, of course, nod sleepily and whine quietly as you feel the warm lotion over your body, his slender hands gently kneading into your back. It felt so good that you couldn’t help but to let out soft mewls and moans trying to press closer to him.

He smiled and moved you onto your stomach so that you were facing the tv and he moved to straddle your lower back as he gently massaged the warm lotion into your back causing you to whimper and whine softly, your body still sensitive from your orgasm.

“Am I going too rough?” He asks in that sweet almost melancholy voice of his that you loved. It somehow always managed to lull you into subspace.

You only respond with small grunts and mumbles.

He took a break to open up a couple of the small chocolates and he gently pushed one into your mouth with a soft kiss against your ear as he left the other in a sort of pile right next to you so you could help yourself.

You couldn’t help but to whimper quietly and you nibble at your little bear’s ear as you watch your cartoons, sucking on the chocolate as he went back to massaging your skin with the warm relaxing lotion.

He also loved to worship your body, especially since you tell him that you don’t know if you mean anything to him.

He works the lotion into your whole body; your back, your sides, your arms and hands.

He lotions up your hands by keeping his hips pressed into yours from behind while his hands gently caress yours. He loves playing with the muscles and bones in your hands, primarily your knuckles.

When he was finished with the rest of your body, leaving your neck left treated too with soft kisses as well, he repositioned so that he could cuddle with you from behind.

He ALWAYS cuddled you until you were asleep so he could clean himself up and go make dinner for whenever you chose to wake up, the brat ALWAYS worked out of your system after he was done with you.

“What do you say, Blossom,” he always chided in that sweet almost monotonous voice of his with his soft closed eye smile.

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll be good from now on.”

[anika-ann]

The 5 Times Steve Felt Betrayed - Pt.1

and the 1 Time He Felt Like He Was Betraying You

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & Part 3),  Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock & reader         

Word count (ch1): 2400

Summary: After the fiasco in Nigeria, the world is fed up with dealing with the Avengers’ mess. The Sokovia Accords are invented. It’s understandable that the team is divided.

But Steve would never expect that The Accords would wedge a split between the two of you as well. And he sure as hell wouldn’t expect your disagreement not to end there.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, talk about what happened in Lagos during CA:CW, langauge, angst? (I mean, check out the title)

A/N: So, this mini-series is a part of the Melting Hearts ‘verse and follows the events of CA: Civil War, sometimes only referencing and kinda expecting the readers to knwo what’s up ;) obviously some things will be slightly altered.

Will be posted in double chapters (1st &2nd time, 3th & 4th, 5th+1)

────── ·❆· ──────  

1. (Cause & Consequence)

“Our people's blood is spilled on foreign soil. Not only because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent… is no victory at all.”

Steve shut the TV down, placing the remote control on the table. His fingers went to massage the bridge of his nose.

It was everywhere – a month after the fiasco in Lagos, they were still talking about it in the news. This time it was the king of Wakanda speaking, questioning the activities of the Avengers team.

And during the past weeks, he had barely been the only one.

Steve was well-aware of their mistakes – of his mistake. The way he had lost it with Rumlow was unforgivable, especially with so many lives lost. Wanda might have been the one to send the exploding man into the building full of civilians, but Steve was watching the source of the tragedy every goddamn day in the mirror.

He had failed to deal with the HYDRA mercenary. Wanda had saved Steve’s life when she removed the burning man out of his reach, accidently blowing up a building. You had tried your best to put out the fire in the building with your powers, but the damage had already been done.

It had been a collective error. But Steve knew that if they hadn’t been in Nigeria in the first place, many more people would die. And it was what he was trying to hold onto, some days handling it better than others.

If the public thought they didn’t feel remorse at what had happened, they were very, oh so very wrong.

He winced when the voice of the reporter he had just shut down evaded his ears again, and frowned.

He knew it couldn’t be you – you weren’t home, which was just another thing to make him feel like crap. You were spending a lot of time away lately – Steve couldn’t help but wondering if it was his fault too, if he had driven you away with his dark thoughts.

And then there were moments when he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t simply you not being able to look at him, not seeing him in the same light as you had used to when you had said yes to his proposal.

Were you gone because you were judging him for freezing at Bucky’s name? For not handling the situation? He couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. Loving someone… it shouldn’t be about expecting something back, but… after all the support he gave you whenever you were struggling? He thought you would be there for him.

But maybe it was just too much for you, dealing with yourself and comforting him at the same time – it would only confirm his theory about you feeling guilty for some of the victims.

However… why wouldn’t you try to deal with your own feelings with Steve? He was hundred percent sure you thought you could have done more, be there sooner, hell, stop the explosion yourself. He knew you felt like it was your failure as much as his and Wanda’s – or at least he believed so.

But why were you seeking shelter somewhere else? He was your fiancé – a person you had agreed to spend the rest of your life with – so why weren’t you with him in a time like this? Your relationship had been very intimate from the very beginning after all, only blossoming into more with time.

So why had you gone to see another man again? He couldn’t help the nagging pang of betrayal and jealousy. You always said you needed to see Matt Murdock. How could it not get into his very core and wound him there? Especially when after those meetings with Matt, you always seemed restless, jumping at the slightest of sounds, often escaping to the gym, claiming you needed few more moments alone.

“I’m sorry,” you would always say, a regretful smile on your lips, your gaze avoiding his. “I just… I guess I just need to hit something and I don’t want you to see me like that.”

And then you would hug him, kiss his cheek gently, sometimes pressing your lips to his for a split second and you’d be gone. Truth to your words, you would always come back exhausted, but somewhat calmer and offering affection with more urgency than usual to make up for the lost time.

Steve had no idea what to think about that or how to approach the matter.

What he knew he could do, however, was to walk into Wanda’s room and turn off her goddamn TV, because he was sure the voice was coming from there – no one had watched the news with more intensity than her, always coming after any new bits about the incident in Lagos so she could torture herself.

That girl was way too much like you.

“It’s my fault,” she stated when she acknowledged his presence. It was hard not to, since he had turned off the broadcast.

“That’s not true.”

“Turn the TV back on. They’re being very specific.”

“Well, what they say on TV is a load of— stupid things. We both know that I should have handled the situation way before you had to intervene. People died. And unlike what they say on the news – that’s on me,” he said, heavily seating himself next to her on her bed.

She gave him a sorrowful smile. “Well. I guess it’s on both of us.”

And not on the three of us, Steve’s mind supplied helpfully in an instant and he sighed at the intrusive voice in the back of his head.

“She’s out again. I’m sorry. She’s taking it pretty hard, especially considering it wasn’t her fault at all,” Wanda offered gently and Steve mentally cursed at the mind-reader slash empath slash million other things. “She’s afraid too. She worries for you, because of the way the mission affected you. But she’s not blaming you.”  

Steve eyed her, meeting her honest gaze full of compassion.

“Well, she could say that by herself, but she won’t. Instead…”

“You know… she was very fast at learning how to build a wall in her head to shield her thoughts from me. I can’t read her mind… but I can always tell there’s a lot on it when she comes back,” the Sokovian informed him and Steve stiffened.

Yeah, that was exactly the thing he did not want to hear.

“The thing is… she’s terrible at hiding her emotions. I… I’m not gonna pretend I don’t know what crosses your mind from time to time, I don’t need to read thoughts for that, or emotions. But I can tell you that she only has feelings for you, Steve. Her heart – it’s always with you. She’s carrying it on her sleeve, but it’s yours. You got yourself a good woman, Captain. A troubled one, sure,” she chuckled softly, apparently pleased she felt Steve’s relief. And relieved he was; you weren’t cheating on him. You weren’t thinking about cheating on him. You still loved him. You didn’t blame him. It was as if he could breathe again, indescribable weight falling off him. “But a loyal one and good one.”

Steve covered her hand with his, determined to sooth her as well. “Well. I knew from the beginning that you two were too much alike.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she smiled at him softly and Steve wished he wasn’t imagining the slightest relief in her eyes as well.

“No, Wanda. Thank you.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

2. (Empty Promises)

The Sokovia Accords. A miraculous solution to the problem of the uncontrollable bunch of (mostly) superhumans that hold no responsibility for their action.

Go. To. Hell.

Steve wanted to burn the hundreds-pages document to ashes. It was nonsense. The document just shifted the blame to someone else and wanted to put all of them in check; in a way Steve didn’t like at all.

As long as he remembered, all he wanted was to do good – to serve his country, sure, but mainly to serve the people in it, serve a good purpose. And this regulation went straight against it. Hell, it went against the promise he had once made to the man who gave him the power to fight for a good cause, because he had thought Steve could value it. And he did. He heard Doctor Erskine’s voice as clearly as if he was sitting on the opposite bed at the Camp Lehigh, the night before the procedure.

‘Promise me, that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier – but a good man.’

Being a perfect soldier meant obeying orders and not thinking twice it they meant doing the right thing or not. Being a good man meant standing for what he believed was good with his whole heart.

Signing this peace of— paper would go against everything he believed in.

“We’re not perfect, but the safest hands are still our own,” Steve finished the argumentation and that said it all.

He looked up at Tony with intense glare, his blue eyes gleaming with severity. The air felt too heavy to breathe, the silence itself weighting a ton.

It was your timid voice that cut it in the end and what you said made Steve’s heart ache.

“That’s not something all of us can say about themselves, Steve.”

His attention shifted to you, his lips parting at the well-known expression on your face. His shoulders slumped with a sigh.

Apparently, he had been right about Nigeria – you did feel guilty. And the beginning of your new life with powers had branded you forever as well; this was just another prove of that. A scar for life – the way you saw yourself after killing the scientists on accident, it was affecting you every goddamn minute of your existence and some were just more difficult than others.

“No matter the mistakes we have made, the lives lost on our watch – it doesn’t outweigh the good we’re doing,” he opposed you gently before turning back to Tony to make a point. “The good we might not be able to do if we sign.”

The billionaire huffed. “If we don’t do this now, it will be done to us later. That’s a fact. And it won’t be pretty.”

“You say they’ll come for me,” Wanda stated with scary steadiness to her voice and all eyes snapped to her.

“We would protect you.”

For some reason, Steve’s gut twisted at Vision’s measured voice. A discussion started all over again and Steve was slowly losing the grasp on who was on which side. He glanced your direction as you were observing the fighting team quietly, a troubled expression on your face – the very same he had seen all too often, every time you had come back to the compound.

With sudden urge to comfort you, he rose to his feet and made his way to you. It was when his phone vibrated in his pocket, announcing the worst possible news.

Peggy Carter had just died.

“I gotta go.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

You had gone to London with him, together with Sam. It was… difficult. Soul-crashing. Steve knew that this day would come, possibly very soon, but it hit him like a train, the blow knocking him to the ground.

The blows just kept coming and Steve would love to make a cheeky comment about him being able to do that all day, but this beating was hitting him on places that really, really hurt and he couldn’t bear it. He cried when he carried the casket. He didn’t have the capacity to feel ashamed for it.

God knew you had been there for him as a silent support the whole time; even when he was shamelessly staring at the woman he knew as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and she introduced herself as Sharon Carter. Peggy’s niece.

To be fair, it wasn’t just the revelation of her relation to Peggy or her appearance – it was her, quoting an amazingly strong and inspirational woman, who had, just like Steve, always only wanted to do the right thing. It moved him in a way he wouldn’t be able to put into words if anyone asked him to do so.

You had given him a moment alone only when he had asked for it – you had left the church with everyone else.

It surprised him when he heard the door opening again after what could be a minute; but it wasn’t you. It was Natasha. Bringing up the issue of The Sokovia Accords that Steve had backburned without even realizing it.

His opinion hadn’t changed and he refused to leave to Vienna with Natasha. It was when you replaced her in the otherwise empty church, approaching him slowly and timidly, when he realized that you were about to that though.

“You’re coming with her,” he stated, unable to keep the bitterness off his tone.

Just another punch into his solar plexus. Sure. He could do this all day.

Your smaller hand caught his, for once warmer than his own despite the cold air of the church. Your eyes were on his too, searching in his face. He didn’t have the strength to hide anything from you now.

“Unless you want me to… no, not now. I don’t need to sign publicly – I’m a long way from Black Widow’s popularity and fame.”

“You know that’s not true,” he opposed wryly, too weak to snatch your hand away.

It felt too heavy against his, almost foreign; he hadn’t known if you had made up your mind and decided to sign, not until that moment, not for sure. Now he did. Yet, there was a comfort he was seeking in your touch, because it was something that always helped to calm him down, ground him. He was vainly chasing after the feeling now.

Sensing his struggle, you hesitantly brought your hand up to cup his cheek; on instinct more than anything else, he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Your thumb skimmed over his skin, affectionate, giving.

“And you know I don’t need an audience,” you whispered. “I… I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Steve. I want to be here for you, if you want as well. Work can wait.”

Your words, your touch, your affection – it should all bring him peace, but it just wasn’t coming. His first true love had left this world, left him, and now it felt like you were leaving him too – leaving him behind and betraying an oath you had premised when you let him slip an engagement ring on your finger.

────── ·❆· ──────  

Part 2 (the third and the fourth time)

────── ·❆· ──────  

Thank you for reading!

I decided to post it here on tumblr in double-chapters, because they would be reatively short otherwise... but posting it as one monster chapter would be a bit much... I think.

Have a good start of your week!

[cosmicbash]

I'm hesitant to post this, because??? Honestly?? I'm not 100% sure I haven't already posted it. I was perusing my Google docs trying to relabel stuff as posted and such to better organize and found this, which @lemon-coke and me both can't figure out if I ever posted. So.

Better to repost it and give you all something to reread then not post it all I assume.

Sorry!

It starts out as a misunderstanding, of course, because how else would their relationship begin?

A series of short tentative chats that somehow blossom into a full on dinner together, Colson sweating and more anxious than he's ever been in his life. It just doesn't seem real, that not only could he be mending this feud with his idol but also sitting across from him at some fancy restaurant table learning Eminem eats his steaks well done like some child. And laughing about it. 

He's actually laughing. With his idol, his rival, his highschool crush. Long legs kicking out under the table at his own bad jokes, Em half smirking back at him. Their feet brushing one too many times for the color to leave his cheeks even after he's done giggling.

By the time Colson is talking Em into splitting some crazy good looking chocolate cake he actually feels better than he has in years. Since before the beef. So of course something has to go wrong. It really would have to be a dream for things not to sour.

He wants to pretend the first few flirty comments are in his head. That Em reaching across the table to roughly rub some chocolate off his cheek is a Detroit thing. But by the time they're finished eating and waiting for the check Colson's creeping suspicion has turned into full on alarm bells blaring. There's just no way to excuse the nervous looks or Em's almost hesitant invitation up to his hotel room. 

It feels like a slap to the face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Why they're eating in the other rapper's hotel, why Em is even speaking to him. None of this is to repair their relationship or end the beef. It's all just some poorly hidden buttering up before Em asks him to get down on his knees. 

Colson should blow up. He should just lash out and throw his fist into Em's face. Storm out and flag down the valet. He's not some escort that the rapper can rent for the night and feed a fancy dinner to.

But there's that guilty feeling that has settled into the pit of his stomach. The one that's been there since he first lashed out and ruined everything with his diss track, the comments about Hailey, his childish bitching in interviews. It's only doubled since they first sat down to eat. Every muffled chuckle and weakly hidden smile from the older man digging that pit deeper and deeper. Showing him what he carelessly threw away in some desperate grab for attention.

It's got a small voice in the back of Colson's head warning him how if he says no and storms out he's just doing the same thing all over again, cutting Em out of his life. This time possibly forever.

So Colson bites his tongue and nods. His fingers anxiously climbing up into his hair to help hide the guilty look he knows must be on his face when he stutters out a "y-yeah, yeah, sure."

The genuine smile Em flashes back at him at his agreement just feels like a knife being jammed next to the shovel.

How can the man look so fucking blissful about something that feels like borderline blackmail?

But Em does. He looks stunned, downright flustered even at first at his response. Then happy. A happy that isn't hidden by some fake cough or behind a delicate yet strong looking hand for once. It gives Colson something precious to hold onto in the sea of uncomfortable and nasty emotions twisting up his stomach while the older rapper pays. 

The knot just twists itself up tighter once they're in the elevator, his silence thankfully brushed off as nervousness by Em. The almost shy glance of steely blue eyes his way making him feel so small while buttons are pressed. Usually Colson would blame this kind of nausea on the ride itself, but for once his phobia of the small metal deathtraps is actually being overpowered. A new fear worming its way through his guts as each floor number blinks to life.

He doesn't want to freak out. To run away, but hes too goddamn sober for this. Avoiding smoking and turning down the offer of wine at dinner just to try and impress his idol was threatening to be his downfall. If he'd known Em was going to show such little respect and consideration to his being like this he would have lit a fat one up right there at the table. Hell, maybe that would have changed the older man's mind about propositioning him in the first place. Surely a druggie asshole was less appealing to make drop to their knees instead of his current carefully put together primped and meek self.

"Only a few more floors. Don't go green on me just yet Kelly." 

Colson didn't know whether to take the playful nudge as comforting or creepy. Maybe, a little flattering? If Em had actually looked into him enough to learn about his problem with elevators and the man just wasn't guessing off the apparent discolor of his face that is.

"Y-yeah."

Imagining Eminem of all people actually following his interviews or caring about his personal life that much felt like a pipe dream though. 

Outside of the next 20 minutes or however long it took for the bastard to get his rocks off he highly doubted Em would put much thought into his existence at all. Which would be fair. After all the shit he's said and done he really doesn't deserve the time of day from his idol. 

A ding and the elevator doors were opening. Colson's legs feeling numb beneath him when he finally lets go of the railing in the elevator to stumble forward. Thankful that Em's focus was on digging his room's keycard out of his wallet and not his clumsy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to their destination, making the whole situation so vividly real he couldn't help but panic again. The other man's forced small talk about how he "Doesn't usually book the penthouse suite-" falling on deaf ears.

It’s ironic, how often he had dreamed for this exact scenario. For Eminem to be leading him up to some fancy high end hotel room, promising to shower him fully in his attention and gaze. Only now, with his dream coming true right before his eyes he can’t help but feel bittersweet about the heated gaze holding him frozen just outside the door. Em’s final offer for him to back down before they both step through the threshold clear as day in the look.

The twist in his gut tells Colson to take it, to just spin around on his heel and run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Accept he’s too much of a coward and too full of himself to actually mend their beef.

But the desperate need he feels for forgiveness and absolvement pushes Colson forward instead. Sheer will alone giving him the confidence to twirl his idols hoodie strings around his fingers to drag Em inside with him. The loud beat of his heart completely smothering the other man’s flustered outburst. 

Just like in church the blonde finds himself on his knees not too long after entering. Mouth open and hands clasped together, ready to ask for forgiveness. Except this god he’s praying to is running it’s fingers through his hair, and there’s a stiff cock separating his palms. A chorus of curses and “Holy fuck, K-Kelly just wait a second, shit, your tongue is-“ tickling his ears instead of hymns.

He’s never sucked a cock before, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he finds himself choking. But Colson doesn’t give up, even when his jaw starts to ache and the grip on his hair grows a bit too tight. His discomfort doesn’t matter here. He just needs to make Em happy, earn the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.

“Can I- fuck, can I fuck your face?” Both of the older rapper’s palms are holding his bangs away from his face, tilting his head back just enough to force their eyes to meet. The shame in his chest doubles but so does the surprising tightness in his jeans when he sees the uncharacteristic flush to Em’s cheeks.

He isn’t experienced, the smart thing to do would be pull off and admit that. He’s seen first hand how disastrous things can go but his head bobs in a yes anyway. Eyes already starting to water from how the action jabs the other rappers cock right against his gag reflex.

A low groan is all the warning he gets before Em’s fingers are knotting in his hair, forcing his head down to meet the thrust of strong hips. Stuffing that hard dick down his throat so fast it burns and his hands can’t help but flail, helplessly grabbing onto the meat of the older rapper’s thighs through his sweats. Unable to even steal another gasp of air before it happens again. Em’s hips pistoning forward to fuck his mouth like some cheap replaceable toy. 

Even after he gags and gurgles spit the rapper doesn’t stop. 

The harsh pants of praise and encouragement burning his ears just as hotly as the tears in his eyes. “Ah, so good. So fucking good baby, the best, ah-“

Colson doesn’t know what’s worse, how quickly his heart skips at the surprise tern of endearment or how pathetically his cock jerks in his underwear. Not that he has much time to think on it with how Em abruptly forces his face right down to the bone, soft and scratchy pubes tickling his nose. Startling him before the other man’s blowing his load, Colson’s eyes widening and nails cutting deeply into Em’s legs while he chokes. There’s too much, even with his throat reflexively swallowing it still fills up his mouth and bursts out the sides. Dripping down his chin and out onto his shirt when Em finally pulls him off.

It’s salty, and thick. Nothing like the eggnog Rook’s joked to him it tastes like. There’s nothing sweet about this thick cream, even if the lightheaded feeling he’s got from milking it out still makes him feel drunk. 

“Shit. I wanna take a picture.“ Em’s palm is tilting his head back again, dragging his glassy eyes up away from the twitching spit slick cock in front of him. Thumb forcing his tongue down flat to flash what he can only imagine has to be a white mess before the hand in his hair is fumbling out a phone. “Can I?”

He almost wants to laugh at how the brunette doesn’t even wait for his answer before there is the unmistakable flash of a phone light temporarily blinding him. A curse and then another two, these ones at least allowing him the chance to shut his eyes tightly.

The shame within him is boiling, burning through his veins like lava and making his heart drop down into his stomach.

“So pretty-“ Em’s fingers are releasing his tongue and jaw to rake through his bangs yet again. Exposing his face even though Colson wants nothing more than to hide. A stifled sob tearing at his aching throat while he swallows what he can inside his mouth without completely gagging.

He can’t cry. That would ruin the mood wouldn't it? And if it doesn't, Colson doesn't know how he would handle having Em laugh at his tears. The almost soft demeanor and shy quality to his tone is all thats keeping the blonde from running away as it is. 

The shuffle of shoes and curl of strong fingers pulling him up startles Colson's eyes back open. Lashes fluttering to blink away the brief flash of wetness that's blurred his vision before he realizes he's being kissed. That Em's palms are cupping his jaw yet again, helping him to his feet. 

It's scratchy, and softer than he expects. Not that he was expecting Eminem to be kissing him in the first place, but the man doesn't relent. Just keeps kissing him, even after he's grown to his full height and the angle of their heads has switched. Em's tongue snaking its way inside his mouth while they stumble back further into the room. Until Colson's head is feeling fuzzy and his knees weak, the cushioned crash of his body hitting a mattress barely felt.

It feels wrong when Em's hands smooth up over his chest and down inside his jeans. The uncontrollable kick of his hips up into a tight hand around his cock almost blasphemous. There's no reason for Em to even be bothering with touching him there, he doesn't deserve it. But the rapper is sucking and nibbling along his neck, up into his ear to whisper a dozen filthy praises and compliments. None of them possibly true.

"So pretty-" "Perfect-" "Wanted to touch you for so long-" 

"Stop-" Colson's hands feel shaky as they drag his idols face back up to meet his in a messy kiss. Breath tight while he tries to speak between pecks. "Just- fuck, just hurry-"

When he winds up on his stomach some point into the night, Em's too big cock pressing hard against his entrance he can't help but cry out. The pitiful fist he shoves between his own teeth doing nothing to stifle the sound.

It hurts, more than the thin fingers he'd taken only moments prior. But not as much as the soothing shushes and affectionate run of hands through his hair. 

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Mall Santa (Boomer/Mike and Brick/Blossom)

Summary: To earn a little extra cash over the holidays, Brick, Mike, and Boomer agree to help out their buddy Todd at a Mall Santa gig. Shenanigans ensue.

This one is for @snailbutters, @genovah, and @hanaokm. Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Enjoy some Boomike, Blossick, and Capri Sus on me. 

[Cross-posted to AO3]

xxx

There were a lot of things Todd needed: a haircut, for one. His black hair was getting too long for gel and it was really pushing the boundary between greaser sexy and sad trash hobo. Money, for another. But like any other 21-year-old townie with a high school education and two restaurant jobs, he always needed money.

A new best friend, for yet another.

“I’m not your best friend,” Brick snapped as he tied a black tie around his neck. He needed to leave in ten minutes if he was going to be early for his dinner meeting with Oliver Morbucks.

Todd put a hand over his heart like it might fall out of the wound Brick’s words had stabbed there. “Dude, of course you are. I’m totally sorry if I ever gave you the wrong idea.”

Brick grimaced so hard he was sure he’d end up constipated. “No, you idiot. I know you think I’m your best friend. You’ve never shut up about it, even after we graduated high school. I’m pretty sure the whole fucking Peninsula knows it the way you go around shouting it when you’re blasted.”

Todd looked like he’d just received news that his favorite nana wasn’t dying of cancer after all. “Oh, cool. For a second there I thought I really hurt your feelings. You know you’re kinda sensitive, right?”

Oh god.

“What do you want, Todd? I have a really important meeting and I’m not missing it for your bullshit.”

Brick checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror in his one-bedroom apartment in downtown Townsville. It was a shitty hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but Brick was used to squalor. His break was coming, he could feel it. If tonight’s meeting went over well, he’d have a more steady revenue stream and, more importantly, the connections and clout the Morbucks name brought to open doors. All the long days at Red’s Auto Shop saving and scraping by would finally pay off, and just in time for Blossom to graduate from college. It was perfectly planned, meticulously manipulated, all down to this last pivotal dinner.

“Cool, no big deal! I just need to know if you’re free this weekend.”

“Free to do what?” Brick indulged him, because Todd was one of the few people on this planet who wasn’t 100% intimidated by his very presence.

“To help me with this Mall Santa gig I got. Harry Pitt was supposed to be my number two elf, but he ate some bad prawns and they had to, like, airlift him to Citiesville General.”

Brick stopped everything he was doing and glared at his second-to-best friend, which was a key fact because second was not the same as first. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I know, right?” Todd knew his way around Brick’s embarrassingly small bathroom, opened up the hair wax, and fixed Brick’s styling job. “Dude always had a weak stomach, you remember. But you don’t fuck with bad prawns. I mean, obviously.”

Brick swatted Todd’s hands away and checked his reflection. It was definitely an improvement. “Not that; the Mall Santa thing, obviously!”

“Oh, yeah. So you’ll help me out?”

“Fuck no.”

“Aw, Briiiiiiick,” Todd whined.

Brick grabbed his dinner jacket from the closet barely big enough to fit a small, starving child. Todd, who had latched onto Brick in the seventh grade like a goddamned barnacle and never let go no matter how hard Brick tried to push him away, followed. “Not if you paid me.”

“You’ll get paid! It’s $20 an hour!”

Brick hesitated over the threshold. “That’s higher than minimum wage.” It was higher than his hourly rate at the garage too.

“Seasonal gigs, man. That’s how you win.”

“It’s seriously fucking not.”

Todd, one of three people in the universe who actually cared about Brick on a personal level even though he wasn’t obligated by blood, made his blue eyes big and wide in a way that reminded Brick of Puss-n-Boots from Shrek, Todd’s favorite movie. “C’mon, bruh. Do your bestie a solid? Just this once? I really need the money and they won’t let me keep the gig without two elves to fill in. So please? Pleeeeeeease?”

And Brick, former scourge of Townsville, a Super with the power to literally raze the planet if it so much as tickled his fancy, and the dictionary definition of the boy every father dreads his perfect, pretty little girl falling for against her better judgment, cracked like an egg.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groused. “Just text me the time and place and get out of my face already.”

Todd punched the air with both fists. “Yes!! Oh, hell yes! I love you so much, dude.”

“Blow me.” Brick checked his watch. Shit, now he was merely on time.

“I’d consider it an honor,” Todd said, probably literally serious.

xxx

Boomer rolled glitter on his cheeks and around the edges of his dark blue eyes with the help of a compact as he huddled behind the North Pole set on the first floor of the Townsville Mall. When he was satisfied that he sparkled like the tinsel-festooned Christmas trees in Santa’s twelve-by-fifteen-foot “forest” themselves, he discreetly re-emerged just as the latest child slid off Santa’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, Dan!” bellowed a red and white-clad Todd behind an enormous, curly beard. “Remember to brush your teeth!”

The little boy ran back to his parents, who were having a word with the photographer about purchasing a picture of their son on Santa’s lap. Before Boomer could follow them, Brick was quick to cut him off.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded. Sour as an un-sugared plum in his festive, candy-striped elf costume, Brick may have absolutely intimidated the seven-year-olds waiting in line with their parents for a turn on Santa’s lap, but Boomer only allowed him a bemused smile.

“Why, I was making toys for the good little boys and girls who came to visit us here at the North Pole,” Boomer said in a raised voice. He looped his arm through his brother’s and let his power surge with enough force to turn Brick around and face the crowd that was definitely within hearing range. “Isn’t that right, Elf Mursten?”

Brick pushed back with inhuman force, but Boomer held his ground with a smile as bright as the glitter on his cheeks as a little girl in overalls trotted forward.

She giggled. “I like your hat.”

“Thank you!” Boomer gushed, and he tipped his pom-pom-topped cap. “And what’s your name?”

The little girl giggled again. “My name’s Alynn.”

“Well, Alynn, why don’t you step right up and take a seat on Santa’s lap? I’m sure he has a great present for a cool girl like you. Right, Elf Mursten?”

Brick glared medieval torture at him, and he managed a smile that showed too many teeth to be anything other than life-threatening. “Of course, Elf Buller.”

Boomer’s smile tightened.

“Ho ho ho! Come on over, Santa doesn’t bite,” Todd said.

“What a psychotic reassurance,” Brick said soft enough for only the Super brothers to hear.

“Hey, Brick?” Boomer said, just as softly. “Cheer the fuck up.” He gave his brother a bone-crushing squeeze around the arm and broke from him. Brick could be a sourpuss when he wanted to be (all the time), but he wouldn’t mess up Todd’s Mall Santa gig when he’d bothered to show up and actually put in the effort at all. Complain as he might about Todd’s exuberance, Brick had always come through for his best friend since the seventh grade.

Boomer, on the other hand, had been very happy to accept Todd’s offer to work the two weeks leading up to Christmas. The hours were reasonable, the pay was good, and Boomer loved children. It was easy money in between local shows he and his garage band had booked over the holidays.

Plus, the photographer had a nice rack.

“Okay, Santa, Alynn. Look over here and say ‘jingle bells’!” A flash went off, and Mike Believe stood to his full height behind the tripod he’d set up for the day’s pictures. Even in reindeer antlers and a bright, red-painted nose, Mike filled out every fold of his brown Rudolph outfit almost to the point of popping a button. His broad chest puffed out when he put his strong hands on his hips and grinned brightly like he wouldn’t pick anywhere else to be right now.

Their eyes met, and Boomer flushed and smiled like a fool.

When Mike winked back at him coyly, his heart leaped into his throat. Mike had gotten home from college just two days ago, but the three weeks he had off for Winter Break would surely fly by like they did every year, and Boomer was determined to spend every moment together.

A tug on Boomer’s green tunic drew his attention. “Can I take a picture with you? Please?” the little girl asked.

Boomer beamed and scooped her up onto his hip. “Of course you can. Hey, Mike? Can you take one of us, please?”

“You bet! Get in close, now.” Mike readied his camera.

“Oh, wait a sec. Why don’t you take this too?” Boomer removed his festive hat and put it on Alynn’s head. It was big on her, but she laughed happily.

They posed for the picture, and Boomer hugged her cheek to cheek.

“Thanks!” The little girl tried to give him his hat back, but he pressed it to her chest.

“You keep it. Merry Christmas. Remember to be good, okay?”

Alynn’s father was waiting with a hand for her to take when she ran back to him, yammering about how she’d met Santa and his super cool elf friend, and Boomer watched them go.

“You know you’ll have to pay for that hat,” Brick said.

Boomer sighed and ran a hand through his cornflower hair. “You know I look better without it.”

Brick frowned deeply. “Uh-huh.”

“If you keep frowning, your face will stick like that.”

“Moron.”

He always had to have the last word. Brick went to stack the empty boxes wrapped in bright, shiny paper, which was probably more productive than blowing up the entire display. Boomer left him to it. It was time for their mid-morning break, anyway.

Todd got up to stretch. “Man, who knew sitting could be so tiring, huh? Whack.” His phone buzzed, and he grinned when he saw the caller ID.

Boomer, however, had eyes only for Mike as the latter turned off his camera and put a sheet over the tripod to protect it. “Working hard, I see.”

When Mike smiled, his dark eyes crinkled in the corners. He had a face made for smiling. “Oh, you know. Just helping out some friends.”

Like Brick, Todd had asked Mike to help out behind the camera for this gig. Mike didn’t exactly need the extra cash given his lacrosse scholarship that covered his college expenses, but the three of them had been as thick as thieves all through high school no matter what Brick said when he was annoyed. No way was Mike going to bail on the chance to help out a bro.

“This is cute,” Mike said, running a thumb over Boomer’s sparkly cheek.

“If only I could convince Brick to wear some,” Boomer said, lacing his fingers in Mike’s as they shuffled to the side of the exhibit behind a blinking Christmas tree for a bit of privacy.

Mike chuckled. “That’ll take a Christmas miracle. But anyway, I don’t want to talk about Brick right now.”

Their kiss was soft and mostly chaste, considering the venue, but Boomer didn’t mind at all. He rose up on his toes to lean into his boyfriend’s superior height and smiled into their kiss. Even in the middle of the Townsville Mall with shoppers mere yards away, for a few seconds Boomer got lost in the fantasy of the forest and the snow drifts, bright lights and magic that came around only once a year and had always touched his heart in a way nothing else quite could.

“Babe! You got here quick!” Todd’s excitement and a small commotion around Santa’s throne drew the lovers’ attention, and Boomer reluctantly broke the kiss. His Super hearing quickly picked up on what was going on.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

Boomer smiled wryly. “That Christmas miracle you wished for. Come on.” He took Mike’s larger hand in his and pulled him back toward the front of the display, where Todd had scooped up a very small, very fashionable Asian woman in his arms.

“Oh my god, don’t do shits in front of the innocent children, Toddy.” Hana patted her high bun and smoothed out her oversized black jacket once Todd released her.

“Hey, I just missed you is all,” Todd said with a genuine smile like he had really, truly missed his girlfriend since this morning when they had last seen each other.

“You guys are too cute,” said Bubbles with a giggle. As usual, she was adorable in blonde twin tails and a holiday-appropriate sweater dress. Shopping bags hung from both her arms, also as usual.

“Right?” Hana said, her deadpan façade melting completely as she beamed at her closest friend.

“No contest.” Bubbles set down her small nation of shopping bags. “Oh! Hi, Boomer!” She dashed to hug him in a flash of blue, and he caught her easily. “Oh my gosh, I love your glitter. You look like a supermodel!”

Boomer laughed and hugged her back. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. I really owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Oh, but you definitely need some touching up. Here, let me just…”

Mike had wandered over to Todd and Hana. “Hey, Hana. Are you staying for the holiday?”

Hana shrugged. “Yeah, my art show isn’t until after New Year’s. You know, I’m always looking for more models.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Mike laughed. “I’m honored, but I’m really nothing special, honestly. You might try Butch.”

Todd guffawed. “Oh man, Butch is, like, one of her top models! She painted him for what, six weeks last summer, babe?”

“Seven,” Hana said, dead serious.

Mike smiled nervously. “That’s a lot of inspiration.”

“He is very inspiring,” Hana said, deader and more serious.

“That dude is goals,” Todd said, totally unironically.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Mike said.

“Aaaaand done.” Bubbles stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Honestly? You’re the most beautiful elf the North Pole ever employed.”

Boomer snickered. “Don’t tell Brick that.”

“Don’t tell me what, now?” Brick emerged from his useless empty box stacking task, glitter-less and severely lacking in Christmas cheer.

Bubbles gasped, right on cue. “Brick! Where is your glitter? Get over here.”

Brick made a weird face. “What are you talk—hey!”

Bubbles all but accosted him with the glitter pen. Hana cheered and applauded, and Todd joined in because he liked to cheer and applaud in general.

“What are you—get off!” Brick shoved Bubbles hard, but a flash of pink caught her before she could crash into anything.

Blossom peered around her totally unfazed sister, a tray of lattes in one hand and her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “Brick,” she said.

Brick swallowed. “Blossom.”

She looked nice in leggings and a sweater dress that matched Bubbles’ style, except where Bubbles’ was white, Blossom’s was a scarlet that rivaled the shade of Brick’s eyes.

“I brought you guys coffee,” Blossom said, her eyes trained on Brick even as she held out the tray.

Mike took the tray before it could become collateral damage in whatever was going on between the two of them.

“Here you go.” Mike offered one to Boomer, who gratefully accepted it.

“Thanks!”

“I thought you weren’t getting home until tomorrow,” Brick said, as if he and Blossom were the only two people there.

“Change of plans,” Blossom said. “Problem?”

Brick seemed to remember what he was wearing and snatched his elf hat from his head. He bunched it up between his hands like that would hide his imagined shame. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, clearly. But it wasn’t Boomer’s place to intrude. He would have been extremely happy for it to end there, but sadly Blossom, like his brother, had a flair for the dramatic and an affinity for the center of attention.

She sauntered up to him and smeared the bit of glitter Bubbles had managed to draw on his cheek before he’d shoved her off. “Good,” she said, half an invitation and half a challenge.

Brick didn’t bend easily. Boomer knew his brother as well as he knew himself, and he knew Brick didn’t relent, never gave in unless he was well and truly beaten, which was rare. But he slackened now, lips parting and eyes falling. Even though his arms stayed stubbornly at his sides and he didn’t do something as scandalous as hold his girlfriend’s hand in public, he melted under her touch and attention.

“All right! Bloss, you’re back early! This is massive, like, supernova massive,” Todd said. “Hey, I know! Let’s throw a party at mine tonight! Brick said you weren’t coming back for another couple of days, so this is like a cool early Christmas present to all of us.”

Bubbles gasped. “Oh my gosh, yes! Let’s all go to Todd’s tonight, just like we used to. I’m calling Robin right now.”

“We can make it a real Christmas party,” Blossom said. Somehow, she’d gotten ahold of Bubbles’ glitter pen and now smeared a generous amount on Brick’s cheeks until he gleamed without suffering a nuclear meltdown. A Christmas miracle, indeed.

“You’ll wear the Santa suit,” Hana said. Demanded.

“Ho ho ho! You got it, babe.”

“That thing’s a rental,” Brick said. “And it’s, like, 75 degrees outside.”

“If he gets too hot, I’ll hose him down,” Hana said.

Brick smartly decided not to press her on that one.

“I like your elf costume, Brick,” Blossom teased. Maybe.

“I’m burning it as soon as I get paid,” Brick said.

“I thought it was a rental like Todd’s?”

He hesitated, trapped by his own logic, and she laughed softly and kissed the side of his mouth. Brick froze and played it off like it didn’t affect him, but his eyes were drawn to Blossom’s lips for the next six whole minutes. Boomer really didn’t get why he had to make everything so damn complicated.

“Hey, hombres, our break is up and I see a super cute kid waiting to sit on the softest lap in Townsville,” Todd said, sinking back onto his candy cane throne and patting his lap.

Brick visibly cringed.

“It could be worse,” Mike whispered to Brick. “At least this time we get to keep our shirts on.”

Boomer smiled at the memory of Todd’s last seasonal gig he’d roped Brick and Mike into over the summer. The shirtless carwash had admittedly been one of his more rewarding part-time jobs, and Boomer had the photo evidence to cherish the memory extremely fondly.

Blossom and Hana retreated behind Mike while Bubbles finished up her phone call with Robin and Brick admitted the next child on set.

“Welcome to the North Pole,” he said with all the cheer of an old tire. Nonetheless, his cheeks dazzled. “What’s your name, kid?”

She looked up at him but didn’t say anything. Boomer noticed her shyness and decided he better intervene.

“Hey there,” he said, taking a knee so he could be on her eye-level. “Merry Christmas.”

That alarmed her even more, and she hugged Brick’s leg.

“What the—” Brick put his hands up like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Great.”

The girl’s parents were busy talking to Mike about the picture packages and didn’t seem to notice what was going on.

“Uh,” Boomer said, ready to flag them down before the little girl got scared or started to cry. They’d been lucky this morning with only one child throwing a temper tantrum out of the tens they’d seen.

“All right, kid. I hope you have a good grip.” Brick floated off the ground with the little girl clinging to his leg and flew over to Todd’s throne.

Boomer was so flabbergasted by his brother’s gross disregard for this child’s safety in front of her parents that he was momentarily stunned where he kneeled. It was over in about two and a half seconds, with her parents none the wiser and the little girl still in one piece, miraculously. Brick peeled her off him and dropped her on Todd’s lap.

“Name,” Brick demanded. And then, reluctantly: “…To check you off the Nice List.”

The little girl looked up at him with wide-eyed wonderment, or maybe fear. “Morana.”

“Morana. Super. Tell Todd—I mean, Santa—what you want. And smile for the camera.”

Todd didn’t miss a beat and wrapped his arms loosely around her to hold her safely in place. “Morana, that’s a pretty name. Wanna tell me what you want for Christmas?”

Morana pointed at Brick. “That one.”

Brick turned as red as his messy man bun. Todd wheezed.

“Oh, yeah? Well, that one’s taken, but I bet I can get you a picture together. How ‘bout it?” Todd asked.

Boomer was up and moving in a blue flash. “That can be arranged.” He shoved his brother with a healthy burst of Super strength, and Brick all but fell on his knee next to Todd’s throne. Boomer waved back at Mike for the picture.

“Big smile now!” Mike said cheerfully, and snapped the picture.

“What the hell is up with these kids?” Brick asked when Morana skipped back to her parents and started chattering at them in a language Boomer didn’t recognize but assumed must be all good things from the way she grinned from ear to ear. “They get bolder every year.”

“Or you’re just getting softer,” Boomer teased.

“Yeah, right.”

Blossom laughed at something Hana said on a nearby bench, drawing both their eyes.

“Whatever you say, man,” Boomer said.

xxx

Todd’s party was a nostalgic and long-overdue affair later that evening. Unlike Boomer, who had to make do in a small studio apartment on the outskirts of Citiesville where the rent was more manageable and his commute didn’t matter when flying anywhere took only minutes, Todd lived in a big house he took care of for his often absent, globe-trotting parents. Blossom, Bubbles, and Robin had taken the initiative and strung up Christmas lights, while Boomer created and managed the playlist for the night. They had a good crowd with old friends from high school and new ones from work and college gathered for no excuse other than to have a good time.

Butch, Buttercup, Mike, and Todd had set up beer pong in the basement, where most of the festivities were taking place. As usual, the shit talking and macho bravado had soared to ludicrous heights.

“Come on, BC,” Todd goaded. “Money shot, right here.” He fluffed his Santa beard, the ends of which were damp with beer. Buttercup had one cup left to hit.

“I’m about to straight-up tea bag you with this ping pong ball, Todd, I swear to god.” Buttercup tried to focus on her aim after too many beers and the distraction of Todd’s stupid Santa beard.

“Do it, fucking do it,” Butch said, bobbing on the balls of his feet and slightly manic with the competition and holiday cheer, probably.

“I’m gonna fucking do it!”

“I don’t think you can fucking do it,” Mike said.

“Ohhhhh!” Butch hollered when Buttercup lost her temper and threw the ball too hard. It bounced off Todd’s beard and fell on the floor, leaving the last cup untouched.

“Mike, you cheater!” Buttercup shouted.

Mike burst out laughing.

“All riiiiight, the Toddster’s final shot. You filming, babe?” Todd asked.

Hana, across the table from Boomer, had her phone out and poised. “Kick their asses, Toddy.”

“Yeah, bring it on, Toddy,” Butch jeered.

“Oh, it’s about to be brought.”

“Oh god, please, you peaked in high school,” Buttercup said.

“Hey, he plateaued,” Mike said. “There’s a difference.”

“Just take the damn shot!”

Todd shot, hit the rim of the solo cup, and missed. Buttercup and Butch threw up their hands and whooped. They were still in the game, and the stakes were even higher now.

Boomer squeezed Mike’s arm in a silent excuse and went to change the music…only to find Brick and Blossom making out in the hallway like it was their last night on Earth.

The music was fine, he decided. No need to interrupt Brick and Blossom trying to fuse with the wall and face his brother’s cock blocked wrath. Discreetly, Boomer snapped a picture on his phone and texted it to Bubbles.

[Boomer: Shooketh]

Bubbles’ reply was lightning fast.

[Bubbles: More like shattered!!]

[Bubbles: Better get out of there before they catch you lol 💀]

After another hour (and Brick and Blossom’s reemergence from the wall in one piece with not a hair out of place because god forbid), Boomer and Mike decided to head out early. They went back to Boomer’s apartment, where a very excited Pomeranian welcomed them home.

“Hi, Pumpkin!” Mike brightened like the sun and scooped up his favorite girl, left in Boomer’s care while he was away at college. “Who’s ready for a walk?”

They walked Pumpkin and let her tire herself out running around the suburban neighborhood where it was too late at night for any cars to be out. A half hour later, they were curled up on the loveseat with Pumpkin snoozing in her fuzzy bed at their feet and an old black-and-white Christmas movie playing on low volume on the television.

“Hey,” Boomer said, lifting his head from Mike’s chest to look at him properly.

Mike set aside the hot chocolate he’d been drinking and pulled Boomer up by his waist. “Hey, you. What is it?”

Boomer smiled. It was silly, really. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” Mike returned his smile and leaned closer. He smelled like soap, a hint of chocolate, and something else that made Boomer want to bury his face in his neck.

“Just happy,” Boomer said.

“Really? I can’t tell.”

Boomer sat up a little higher. The neck of Mike’s old lacrosse jersey he wore dipped down his shoulder, too big on him and softer than a cloud. He pressed a chaste kiss to the underside of Mike’s jaw. “How about now?”

“Hm, nope, I don’t think I quite got that.”

Boomer threaded his fingers though Mike’s short, dark hair at the nape of his neck. Feeling coquettish, he gave his ear a nip. “How about now?”

Mike shifted on the couch and pulled Boomer’s bent legs onto his lap. His voice was as warm as the hot chocolate he’d been drinking. “I think I’m starting to get a vague understanding.”

Boomer laughed and painted a trail of kisses along Mike’s jaw, up his chin. He pressed a strong hand to his chest and put a little power behind it. Centimeters apart, he could taste the lingering heat of the hot chocolate on Mike’s breath. “And now?”

Mike’s eyes drooped and darkened. His hands slipped around Boomer’s waist, under the jersey, a silent entreaty. “I think you can do a little better than that, Angel.”

The secret nickname broke Boomer’s resolve, and he kissed his boyfriend full on the mouth with all the confidence and shamelessness he couldn’t give him that morning at the mall surrounded by children and their parents. Mike’s shirt soon found its way to the floor along with Boomer’s borrowed jersey. The loveseat was too short to accommodate Mike’s height comfortably, and after a few moments Boomer held him close and flew them to the bed in a flash.

“I’ll never get over how hot that is,” Mike said, breathless.

Boomer blushed, unable to help it. He was careful with his strength around Mike, but sometimes the X bonded to his bones pushed him to the raw, carnal boundaries of humanity. Mike’s hand on his cheek drew him out of those spiraling thoughts.

“I mean it,” Mike said. “I love that part of you. And I trust you completely.”

Words did not come easily, nor did they seem appropriate in that moment. Boomer bent to kiss Mike again and pull him as close as he could get. Wrapped up in the warm sheets and each other, Boomer’s silly little thought that he had never been happier grew and swelled to heights he never could have imagined before Mike. They lay there together, lazy and sleepy, as the credits of their forgotten holiday movie played on the television.

“One more semester,” Mike said, “and then I graduate.”

“I can’t believe you’re almost a college graduate,” Boomer said. “It feels like you left ages ago.”

“Four years is a long time, but it’s not forever. And you should get ready.”

Boomer looked up at him. “Ready for what?”

“To move, of course.”

“Move?”

“Hey, I love how cozy your apartment is, but I’m pretty sure Pumpkin would appreciate her own room once we’re living together full time.”

Boomer sat up properly. “You… You want to move in together? With me?”

“Of course! The only question is, where do you want to go?”

Boomer covered his mouth. Of course he had thought about getting a place with Mike, but that always seemed like the distant future. What if they didn’t stay together? What if the long distance was too hard? What if Mike met someone else at college? Brick didn’t talk about it much, but after a few too many drinks one night the year Blossom and Mike both left for college, he’d confessed how afraid he was that he would lose her forever. How can the old be exciting and fun compared to the amazing, new adventures she would be having?

But from the way Boomer had caught them all but absorbing each other at Todd’s tonight, Blossom seemed perfectly happy to keep him. And Mike…

“You’re serious,” Boomer said.

“I’ve never been more serious.” Mike took his hand and kissed his knuckles carefully. “I can’t wait to start our lives together.”

Boomer could have cried. He almost did. Life was hard, even for a Super like him. With endless bills to pay and the occasional monster to dispose of, sometimes he felt like he was being pulled in too many directions without anyone there to help pick up the slack. But this… This was his.

“Me too,” Boomer said. “And I don’t care where we go, as long as it’s together.”

“Well, cool. In that case, if you’re not opposed to it, was thinking farther north, like Metroville. There are some great photography jobs there that I want to apply for, and the music scene is bigger than it is here—”

“Yes! A hundred percent yes, let’s do it. When do we leave?”

Mike laughed. “June 1st, as soon as they hand me my diploma.”

Six months. It had a date now. Unthinking, Boomer threw his arms around Mike’s broad shoulders and hugged him tight. “I’ll mark my calendar.”

“It’s a date.”

Incidentally, they did not get much sleep the rest of that night.

xxx

I told myself I wasn’t going to do a ton of fluff, but damnit all, Boomike is SUPER CUTE and I couldn’t help myself. Let them have the happy ending they deserve. Thanks for reading!

[fanficimagery]

Ba-by Vlog doo doo, doo doo doo doo

Summary: Imagine being part of the inner circle of friends that's known as the Vlog Squad. You've known Zane the longest, but his friends became yours instantly when introduced. You've been there for them through all their ups and downs, so you're not exactly surprised when they insert themselves into this next chapter of your life.

Words: 4.7K Warnings: Language.

For the passed few weeks you've felt like utter crap. You've had no energy, you were constantly nauseous, and the small bean growing in your womb caused a big fight with your boyfriend of three years that ended with him walking out on you.

Your friends have been calling and coming over to check on you, but you weren't in the mood to hang out, especially while they filmed their bits because it usually involved something outrageous and you didn't want to chance being hurt.

But apparently, Zane has had enough of your excuses.

[unlock ur door. omw.]

You had sighed at his text, but did as you were told. Then falling back on the couch, you awaited his arrival.

Fifteen minutes later, your front door is being opened.

"Baby," Zane groans. "What is you doing? It's three in the afternoon, you're still in pajamas, and you look like death."

You smile weakly at him. "Love you too, bitch. And I'm tired. I haven't been feeling well."

"Well get up and get showered. We're having a kick-back at David's and everyone misses you."

"I don't know, Zane. I honestly don't feel so good."

"It's because you've been cooped up alone all week. Now come on!" He steps around your couch and grabs your hands, he then yanking you into a standing position.

The moment you get your bearings and inhale deeply, you get a whiff of something that upsets your stomach. Gulping down the sudden rush of saliva in your mouth, you lean back with a grimace. "Zane, is that- why do you smell like bacon?"

"Because I got hungry. Duh."

"No, Zane," you say, stepping away from him and covering your mouth and nose with your hand. "I can't- back away. "

You cough and gag, and turn to rush out of the room. You've barely made it to the bathroom, falling to your knees and throwing open the lid to the toilet before barfing your guts out. You stay there until you're done vomiting, only to flush the toilet and fall back on your butt.

Zane is standing in the doorway, expression curious. "Y/N, what's going on?"

Shakily wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes tear up as you meet Zane's gaze. "I-I'm pregnant."

A beat passes and then the most brilliant smile takes over his expression. "Oh my god! My baby is having a baby!?" Weakly grinning, you nod and then stand to rinse your mouth out at the sink. After doing so, Zane pulls you into a careful hug. "Is that why you haven't been hanging with us?"

"Yeah. Well that and the fact that Dillion split after hearing the news. Apparently having a baby was too much for him."

Zane tenses and when you pull back to look at his expression your heart softens towards your friend. "I'm going to kill him."

You huff. "No you're not. He's long gone by now. Probably went back home to his mother in Texas."

"I can't believe that asshole!"

"What's done is done. Let it go."

"The others are going to be pissed, Y/N. I can't believe you kept all this bottled up."

"Let me tell them," you say. "The pregnancy has to be kept under wraps until after the first trimester is over, but the news about Dillion.."

"Yeah. Okay." Zane glances around and then, "Why wait until after the first trimester? How long is a trimester?"

"I'm a bit superstitious," you shrug, smiling sheepishly. "The first three months of a pregnancy are crucial. This is the time where chances of a miscarriage happening are at its highest. I don't want to tell everyone I'm pregnant and then something happens, and then everyone is walking on eggshells around me."

Zane hums. "I get that. But three months? I'm gonna die keeping this secret!"

"Shut up." You playfully swat at him, but then quickly backpedal when you get a whiff of bacon again. "Jesus. I've only known about the peanut for three weeks and he's already turned me against bacon. I really hope he or she doesn't make me eat weird shit."

"I don't know about you, but I'm excited to see you hormonal and crying at every little thing."

"Fuck my life," you groan. "This is gonna be a tough three months. Our friends are gonna be suspicious as fuck."

"Yeah they are. Now go get dressed and drive your ass to David's. I would drive you, but I don't want you barfing in my car."

"And if I barf at David's?"

Zane shrugs. "Food poisoning? If they ask about your absence, just admit to the breakup and make up an excuse about not processing it as quickly as you thought."

"You know what? That's actually not a bad idea."

"Obviously."

"Don't gloat. Now get going. I'll be there in half an hour."

"You better or I'm gonna stir the pot and convince the boys to fly out to Texas to confront Dillion."

"God you suck. Go. I'll be there."

The first three months pass fairly easily. The morning and afternoon sickness is easily remedied by your doctor, and now the sonogram picture weighs heavily in your hoodie pocket.

Zane has been a good friend through it all, he helping you keep the secret while keeping your friends all focused on what a dillhole your ex had been. But now it's time to come clean and you're on your way to pick up Zane who had asked beforehand if he could document your pregnancy.

As Zane settles in the passenger seat, he mounts his camera to the dashboard. "Are you ready for this?" He asks.

"Not really, but I'm tired of making excuses for not drinking and sleeping all the time."

"Alright, so just like we planned." He turns the camera on and after giving you a reassuring nod, you paste on a smile before both of you look towards the camera lens. "Hey guys, Zane here and today's video is going to be a little different. As you can see, Y/N is here with me and I'm sure you've all been wondering where she's been since she hasn't been in anyone's vlogs."

You wave at the camera. "Hey guys. Sorry for going awol on you, but I'm back and I've got some news to share."

You grin over at Zane and he practically beams towards the camera. "We're pregnant, bitches!"

You snort and swat at him. "I'm pregnant. Zane's just super excited and has been a great help these past few months."

"Girl, whatever. That baby is gonna be calling me daddy. Just you wait and see."

"God I hope not."

"Uh," he scoffs. "Rude!"

"Shut up. You still love me." He hums and you take over explaining the next bit. "Anyway, today's the day I'm finally telling my friends, but we're only going to record the ones I think we'll get a reaction out of."

"Josh Peck, obviously," Zane muses. "Then David, Natalie, and Jason."

"Carly and Erin."

"You also wanted to record Kristen, but she, Scott, and Todd are still on tour."

"I know." You pout. "I'll tell everyone else, but I'm not sure they'll be as excited and I don't want to record them and have it be awkward."

Zane laughs. "I can just picture Ilya blinking and not knowing what to say."

"Right?!"

The two of you laugh and then taking a moment to calm down, you say, "So yeah. That's what we're doing today."

"Oh! Show them the sonogram."

"Oh yeah." Pulling the picture from your pocket, you hold it up to the camera and Zane helps you so the camera can focus on the image. "That right there is the little peanut. I seriously can't wait until I can find out the gender. Zane wants me to do a gender reveal party, but I don't know."

"Uh.. were doing it, baby. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"I swear it's like he's the pregnant one sometimes."

"Mhm. So, viewers, sit back and relax, and let's get to telling people we're having a baby!"

"Oh my god. You're too much."

Instead of turning the camera off, Zane lets it continue to record with promises to chop down the footage when in edit.

Then as you're driving over to meet Josh at the hotel he's currently staying in while he's in town for a few photoshoots, Zane gets you talking to the viewers about your current situation and why he's taken it upon himself to help you out. You end up crying when talking about your break-up, but Zane cracks a few jokes that soon have you laughing.

At Josh's hotel, you grab one of the gift bags from the trunk of your car and Zane leads the way up to Josh's room. Once there, immediately seeing the camera, Josh's eyes narrow.

"What's going on?"

You and Zane laugh. "Nothing. I got you a present just because and Zane wanted your reaction."

"Uh huh. I'm not gonna open it and be attacked by bees, am I?"

"No."

"Okay. Good." Josh leads you towards the couch and you take a seat next to him while Zane sits across the two of you. "So what's the occasion?"

You shrug and hand over the bag, but before josh can open it, you say, "All of you guys have supported me while I've been going through this post-breakup funk and I just.."

"Just open the goddamn present!" Zane urges.

You snort and in retaliation Josh sluggishly pulls the ribbon off the bag handles. When Zane makes a noise of aggravation, Josh laughs and then pulls out the tissue paper. He reaches for what's inside and he's barely fully opened it before a beaming smile blossoms. "No!"

"Yes," you laugh, tears already filling your eyes.

"Really?" He asks, then reads the personalized indie aloud, "Plot Twist! Coming January 2020."

"Oh my god. Congratulations!" Josh hugs you, clearly excited. He gets even more excited when Zane hands over a sonogram. "Look at the little peanut!" He coos. "How far along are you?"

"First trimester is officially over," you say.

"Yeah? Who else knows?"

"Well besides baby's deadbeat dad, I was the first," Zane says. "And you're second."

Josh's smile falters, his gaze subtly darting to the camera before settling back on you. "It's okay to ask. Zane's documenting the good, the bad, and the ugly."

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "So I'm guessing Dillion didn't take the news well?"

"You'd be correct. We were having problems before I found out the news, but a surprise pregnancy really wasn't in any of his future plans."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," you assure Josh, wiping tears from your eyes. "He took some time to think about what he wanted to do and baby Y/L/N will be solely mine when he or she is born. Dillion plans to sign away all his rights."

"Oh man." Josh reaches in for another hug and you sniffle into his shoulder. "Whatever you need, just let me know. I'll help you out as much as I can."

"You really don't have to, but I appreciate the thought."

Zane turns the camera off, setting it aside. "Okay so that's one friend down," he muses. "Who's next?"

"I don't know. Lets see who's available?" You bring forth your phone and immediately start texting your friends, side-eying Josh who keeps smiling at the onesie in his lap. You receive a few texts back, grinning. "So Carly and Erin are at David's. Looks like I can kill four birds with one stone."

You then bid Josh farewell, promising to keep him updated with your pregnancy and to call should you need anything. You let Zane take over the driving and end up at David's in no time. But instead of heading inside, Natalie waves you over towards the Tesla where they're getting ready to leave. So after grabbing four gift bags from the trunk of your car, you head on over while Zane rearranges everyone in the Tesla. Carly and Erin are moved into the back seats, Natalie is seated with you in the middle, and Zane sits in the passenger seat while David drives.

"Okay so what's the big deal?" Erin immediately asks as Zane films everyone present.

"Just hold on a few more seconds," you say while passing out the gifts. "You all have to open them at the same time. Well not David because he's driving, but I'm sure he'll know soon enough."

"Enough chatting and open the gifts!" Zane says.

The girls all laugh at his anxiousness, but they open the gifts nonetheless. You see when they pull out the onesies and unfold them, grinning as you see Natalie read hers and it takes a moment for it to click: And so the adventure begins. January 2020.

"Shut the fuck up!" Erin screeches from the back seat. "You're pregnant!?"

"What?!" David's head snaps in your direction as Zane cackles, but then he quickly stares back towards the road. Instead, he looks to Zane. "I'm gonna be an uncle?"

"Is this a joke?" Carly asks

"Nope. The eggo is preggo." You pull out the sonogram and pass it around. "I'm now four months along."

"Look at Natalie," Zane laughs. "She's crying!"

"You better stop those tears right now!" David jokes, glancing at his best friend-turned-assistant. "You're gonna make the pregnant lady cry!"

"Too late."

"I'm sorry!" She laughs, wiping her tears. "It's just- you're pregnant." Natalie beams, her excitement shining through her eyes. "We're gonna have a baby!"

"Uh excuse you," Zane scoffs. "You are not having a baby. We're having a baby," he says while gesturing between himself and yourself.

"Wait, what?" Carly exclaims and you sigh.

"You really need to stop telling people that you're my baby's father." Without even having to look around, you know your friends are curious about who the baby daddy really is. "This pregnancy is why Dillion and I broke up. He intends to sign away his rights."

"Oh fuck him," Erin immediately huffs.

You crack a smile and let Natalie grab your hand to squeeze. "Hey. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask. We're here for you."

"Yeah," David says. "That kid of ours is gonna be spoiled as fuck."

The entire car laughs and you flash them a smile. "Thanks, guys."

The camera gets turned off and Zane turns around in his seat. "Okay so where are we going because our last surprise for the day is Jason."

"Uhh, nowhere in particular," David says. "I just wanted to drive."

"Well drive on back to your house because we need to get Jason's gift and take it to him."

"Oohh. What did Jason get? Or did we all get the same thing?"

"No. Josh got a onesie that said plot twist and the due date beneath it. You guys got the adventure onesies, Jeff got a shirt for Nerf that proclaims Nerf the cool older cousin."

"Aww!"

"Todd, Scott, and Ilya got bottles of Vodka, but the label on them says do not open until I am born. January 2020."

"And Jason?" David wonders.

"Jason got the most heartfelt gift," Zane chuckles. "Even I teared up when Y/N showed me."

"It's because I actually do have a father/daughter relationship with him. I know it started off as a joke, but it actually cemented into a familial bond. So I framed a sonogram in a picture frame that says hello, grandpa on top and I can't wait to meet you on the bottom."

"Dude," David says. "He's gonna cry."

"Counting on it."

SIX MONTHS PREGNANT

Walking into David's house, you can't help but smile at the all the pink and blue. It's the day of your baby's gender reveal, Natalie having set it all up since she was the one entrusted with the envelope from the doctor.

Out back there's a chalkboard where everyone's writing their names under whether they think the baby is a girl or boy, pink and blue cupcakes, pink and blue candy, and pink and blue balloons.

Everyone's dressed in white and the way the whole reveal is going down is that everyone will split into two groups and stand on either side of you. Then armed with confetti cannons, they're going to pop them so that the colored confetti arches over you. All the while, David and Zane are going to be recording and taking pictures.

"Wow. You've gotten fat." The words surprise you, however, the person they come from doesn't. Jonah.

"I'm pregnant. What's your excuse?" Those within hearing distance snort and laugh, and you grin at your friend. "Don't fuck with me, Jonah. My hormones are up and down, and my comebacks are meaner."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mess with preggers. I got it."

You shake your head in amusement as he walks off, one hand resting on your hip and the other absentmindedly rubbing your stomach.

"Wow. You've really popped." Jeff joins you then, expression soft as he gently hugs you in greeting. Out of everyone, he was the one to surprise you the most. He had taken it upon himself to change your diet after finding out you were pregnant, and even got you exercising to keep you and baby as healthy as can be. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," you tell him. "I'm really excited to find out whether I'm having a son or daughter."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Nah. As cliché as it sounds, I'll just be stoked as long as he or she is healthy."

Jeff grins. "Nerf's little cousin is going to be perfect. Just you watch." Your baby kicking startles you and makes you wince, and you rub the spot you felt it at. Jeff continues to watch you. "You know, I never understood why people are obsessed with touching someone's pregnancy belly, but now I think I understand."

You chuckle at him. "Do you wanna feel? Baby is kicking right now."

He glances at you in surprise before slowly nodding. Then taking his hand, you press it to where the baby is more active and watch his facial expression showcase his awe. "That's freakin' crazy, man."

"Try being the one experiencing it. The first time I felt the kick, I started crying. Not because I was happy, but because it freaked me the fuck out. Jason had to console me." You laugh as you remember calling Jason to ask him if what you felt was normal. He obviously wasn't a woman, but he was married before and experienced everything with his now ex-wife.

"Hey! If Jeff gets to rub the belly, so do I!" Heath marches up, swatting Jeff aside and placing his hand where Jeff had his. Seconds pass and his eyes widen. "Holy shit!"

"I know."

"Alright, bitches, gather 'round!" Zane shouts, recording. Next to him, David follows with his own camera. "If you haven't written down your name under whether you think the baby is a girl or boy, do so now. David's decided to make things interesting."

"Yes because finding out the gender of my baby wasn't interesting enough," you deadpan.

"Shut up. Yes it is," Natalie says, coming up beside you and shoving Heath away from your stomach.

"So the way things are going down," David starts, "is that whoever guesses the right gender wins a thousand dollars."

Your friends cheer, with the exception of Natalie who can't play because she already knows what you're having, and after the hype has gone down it's time.

Standing out in the middle of the back yard, you wait patiently as your friends split up. Heath, Mariah, Natalie, Corrina, Josh, Jason, and Matt stand on your left while Scott, Kristen, Carly, Erin, Todd, Jeff, Jonah, and Ilya stand to your right. Everyone anxiously waits with their cannon in hand, and then Zane and David count down.

"Three.. Two.. One!"

The cannons pop.. and pink confetti rains down.

There's screaming and shouting, and tears immediately fill your eyes as you laugh joyously. Erin, Matt, Todd, Josh, Jason, and Jonah are more excited than the others- they being the ones who had guessed you were having a girl.

"Baby, you is having a baby girl. How are you feeling?" Zane asks, camera in your face.

"Like I'm gonna barf," you laugh. "Holy shit. I'm having a girl!"

NINE MONTHS PREGNANT

For the last hour and a half, you've been washing and folding baby clothing for the umpteenth time, and repacking your hospital bag. Lately you've been in the nesting stage and your friends found it rather hilarious.

Just after you've placed the hospital bag atop the changing table and have taken a seat in the rocking chair, a rather intense cramp causes you to lightly groan and cradle your stomach. You've been cramping since early morning, but you're still two weeks away from your due date so you think nothing of it.

Natalie soon enters the room, smoothies in hand. "Let me guess," she says, "you've been washing again."

You grin tiredly. "I feel so restless," you tell her, accepting your banana drink. "Thank you."

"No problem." Natalie then takes a seat on the floor, her back against the open door as she glances around the nursery. Each piece of nursery furniture was purchased by your friends and assembled by a professional. David, as a present afterward, got a mural of the entire gang painted on the wall and peering down into the crib. Half the group thought it was creepily hilarious, but you found it rather endearing. "So what's on the agenda tonight?"

Still rubbing your stomach, you hide your grimace behind the smoothie cup. "I, uh, I actually think I need to go to the hospital."

Natalie's head whips in your direction. "What?"

"I've been cramping all morning and thought they were Braxton Hicks," you admit. "But they've only gotten more painful and closer together."

"Holy shit, Y/N. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because if you freak out, I'm gonna freak out. So stop freaking out!"

"O-okay!" Natalie quickly stands, taking a moment to center herself. "Has your water broken?"

"No." Your voice wobbles, but you quickly gulp down the knot forming in your throat. "Am I- do you thinking I'm overreacting?"

"Nope. But whether these contractions are the real deal or not, I rather have the nurses look you over and decide themselves."

"Agreed."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll just- I'll grab the bag." Natalie walks over to the changing table and shoulders the bag's strap. She then walks over to you and helps you out of the rocking chair. "I'll drive and you make the phone calls to everyone."

You hiss in pain. "Sounds like a plan."

          - X - X - X - X - X -

Waddling back and forth in your hospital room, you mentally curse your option to not have an epidural. Natalie has been a trooper, calling and texting your friends to let them know this was the real deal. You can't have too many people in your room before the actual labor takes place, so everyone plans to visit for a few minutes and then rotate with the others. For the birth, though, Natalie and Zane were staying.

"Knock! Knock!" The door opens and in walks David, Jeff, Zane, and Jason.

"Oh fuck you and your dumbass smile." The boys all laugh and Natalie hides her smile behind her phone. After all, she's been the sole target of your mean remarks since you've been admitted so she's just happy to see someone else targeted. "God I hope your daughter doesn't inherit your meanness."

"I'm so sorry," you tearfully apologize to David. "But if I hear your laugh one more time, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

"Aw baby," Zane coos. "Have they given you anything for the pain?"

"She decided against the epidural," Natalie advises them.

"Wait, what?" Jason asks. "Seriously?"

"I heard stories," you mumble. "The cons outweighed the pros, so I told the doctor I didn't want it."

"God you're brave," Jeff huffs. "I've heard horror stories."

"Not. Helping," you grit out when yet another contraction hits. Hissing, you stop pacing and bend over the side of the bed. Natalie rushes over and starts to rub the small of your back as you start to cry.

"And that's our cue," David says. "We'll send in the next group. Erin and Mariah are super stoked."

"That's because they're not the ones pushing a baby out of their vagina!"

Zane sticks around, planning to record part of the birth, but also knowing full well that he and Natalie are to stay near your head. You don't plan on having any vagina shots on film or picture.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

Thirteen hours.

Thirteen long excruciating hours and baby Wren Y/L/N has finally entered the world.

Natalie and Zane held your hands throughout the entire birth, letting your insults slide off their backs when their encouraging voices grew aggravating. Natalie took pictures and videos for Instagram when baby Wren was placed on you directly after being pulled out, and Zane excitedly cut the umbilical cord when asked if he wanted to. Baby Wren was then taken away to be cleaned up, weighed, and measured, and your friends gave you some privacy for the after birth and clean-up.

Now your two friends are dozing on and off in some recliners the nurse had wheeled in, and you're curled on your side as you stare at your sleeping baby in her bassinet right next to your bed.

A gentle knock sounds on the door and it opens to David's grinning face. "Can we come in?"

"Yeah." You tiredly wave him in. "Just be quiet."

The rest of the gang enter behind him, pink balloons and teddy bears in hand.

"Oh my god. She's adorable!" David gushes, already filming Wren as she sleeps. "Jesus, Y/N, you're a mom."

"Total MILF," Todd giggles. Kristen rolls her eyes and swats him upside the head. "Ow! What? I was joking."

"Whatever. Keep it in your pants, Toddy. I doubt Y/N is looking to get pregnant anytime soon."

"Try never," you muse. "Giving birth fuckin' sucks."

"But it's totally worth it. Right?" Mariah asks, touching Wren's tiny hand.

"Eh."

"Can we hold her?" Jason asks.

"Yeah. Go ahead. The nurse should be back in, in a few. It's close to her feeding time anyway."

Jason picks Wren up, gently cradling her in his arms. Seconds pass, and David and Jeff start to snicker at Jason's sniffling. "You're already loved so much, you have no idea. Welcome to the Vlog Squad, kid."

Everyone softly laughs and then take turns holding your baby. She grunts and yawns, and sucks on her tiny fist, and she has everyone wrapped around her tiny finger in a matter of minutes. As your own eyes then start to droop, they flutter back open when you feel a weight settling next to you on the bed.

"Hey, David."

"Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

"Like I pushed an eight pound baby out of my vagina and haven't slept in forever."

He chuckles. "Just wait until you're all healed up. You'll look back on this day and say it was all worth it."

"I don't know about that, D. There's still months of Wren waking up every three hours demanding the tit. I don't know how I'm going to handle it."

"You'll figure it out. You always do," David says. "And when you're feeling overwhelmed, call someone. Everyone loves you and Wren, and I'm sure you'll have no issues finding a babysitter."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Wren lets out a brief cry and you glance over at her, only to be met with Jeff's panic-stricken expression. "Quick! Someone snap a picture."

Your friends all laugh at Jeff, which only upsets Wren even more. She cries louder, but the sudden knock on the door and a nurse walking in causes your friend to sigh in relief. "Feeding time!"

"Alright, losers," you muse, slowly sitting up, "that's your cue to leave. Jeff, hand over Wren."

Jeff walks over and cautiously passes you the baby, he then lingering to brush his thumb over her brow. "She really is something, Y/N. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Jeff." As your friends all walk out with quiet reminders that they'll be back later after you've bonded more with Wren, you stare down at your baby tucked into the crook of your arm. "Well, kid, I would say it looks like it's just you and me, but I'm pretty sure all your aunts and uncles would say otherwise. Grandpa Jason was right. You have no idea just how loved you already are."

[spaghetwardhoezier]

‘Erase this please’ - Percico secret santa fanfic

@duchessmb (MidnightBunnyy) , I am your Percico Secret Santa, bringing you fluffy & angsty flustered boys after Christmas has long passed but i still got my Christmas tree up so you can’t kill my spirit!

I want to start by saying: Happy late Christmas and Happy New Year! I dearly hope this year brings you and the rest of us some better memories. That being said, i want to apologize for posting my gift on the very last day of the event but, hey! At least it’s in time! (unlike all of my school projects :’) ) I hope it doesn’t seem too rushed. I wrote something, read it, hated it and decided to rewrite everything in the last three days. Also, i hope it doesn’t contain many grammar mistakes. I’ll proof read it the morning but if you see it until then, just know that i’m not actually illiterate, just tired. Now that you know how much of a dumbass i am, let’s go on with the story! Hope you enjoy!

This...

Nico stared down at his arm, eyes almost piercing trough the new-found initial that marked the skin from right near his elbow.

Is so confusing...

... a sturdy ‘P’ stood proudly, as if laughing at the son’s of Hades suffering.

P could come from many things! It can come from... Patrick... Paul... Phineas...

What kind of name is Phineas even, Nico?

The boy sighed deeply, his mind stubbornly struggling to remain attached to the same name it has been focused on since he’s seen his soulmark...

The most beautiful name on his list, the one he’s been dreading to say so badly...

Percy Jackson

But that name isn’t supposed to come out of his mouth, to glide between his two lips... That name isn’t supposed to even stroll so casually around his mind every single goddamn day.

Why? Because the thought of Percy Jackson was stuffed so deeply inside of Nico that it now felt like part of him; it was almost painful. Oh, the thought of him was very close and reachable alright..., but Percy Jackson himself was excruciatingly far away.

Nico would stare helplessly... His heart will scream and his mind would struggle to find a coherent thought, one that didn’t scream ‘you’re alone’ or ‘you’re pathetic’. And in spite of all that, he could imagine... was Percy in the arms of his future lover whose face didn’t reasamble Nico’s in any shape or form. He’d imagine them sneaking out in the middle of the night to go and count the stars from the black abyss of the dark sky, the only light accompanying them being each other’s love and company.

... Why couldn’t Nico have that?

...Why did Percy’s future... seemed like one he could never be part of?

Love was for lucky people. He guessed that he just wasn’t the guy.

The dim sounds of flowing water from the well known Styx river the demigod was currently standing close to grew quieter as Nico's eardrums were filled with the obnoxious sounds of his own consuming thoughts. No. He must not pay attention to that mark. To him, the soulmark had to be no longer. It didn't exist to him.

And yet, for the next following weeks, the only place his eyes seemed to want and glance towards as he roamed around his father's kingdom was that idiotic mark. Not even the hopeless whispers of the dead could distract him from it. Truth be told, he felt just as hopeless then.

-

''Boy.'' Hades's cold voice dared to soften just a dime as he tried to catch his son's attention. Nico remained still by the Styx river in the not so far away distance, eyes lost and heart seemingly sinking alongside the dozens of sticks and rocks from the acid water. ''Boy!'' he bellowed once again, steps becoming bigger as he kept advancing towards the shore.

Nico's head turned suddenly, black eyes harmoniously meeting black eyes. The bond wasn't kept for long, the teenage boy immediately starting to glare back at the water. ''What do you want, father?'' his voice was distant and lost, as if it tried to show itself off as threatening and furious but gave up amid the way.

Hades cleared his throat. ''I want to see your mark.''

Nico's eyes widened. The demigod tried to control his panic before opening his mouth again. ''What mark?''

''Your soulmark.''

''I don't have it.''

''Well, i think you do!''

Hades rushed forward, grabbing his son's arms and bringing back the sleeves. Nico stood up and struggled as tried to escape his father's firm grip with no succes.

''A 'P'... Ah, i see...'' the god spat as if utterly unsatisfied with his own statement. His fingers unclenched from around the demigod's wrists and the poor boy grunted as he stumbled back.

''...I told you, i don't have any soulmark.'' his eyes looked up to meet his father's for a second time. He was speaking through gritted teeth, voice stubborn and decisive. ''It's meaningless to me.''

''Too bad it's not meaningless to me then. As much as i hate that it starts with... that boy's name and i dearly hope it's not him... you are still going to go find said person.''

''That boy?''

''Poseidon's brat!''

Hades sighed and closed his eyes, trying to regain his patience. It didn't work much as his voice trembled with annoyance as the god began speaking once again. "Don't play with me. Don't disagree with me. If going to that... cursed camp is what it takes for you to be happy, then so be it.'' He said the world 'camp' with a tone that revealed worse despise than when he'd talk about one of his brothers.

Nico's eyes widened in confusion. ''Happiness...? Going to camp...? What in Hades are you saying?''

''Soulmarks are made by Aphrodite and Hestia, you idiotic child. Yeah, sure, Aphrodite often goes on and on about the drama and chaos that must take place in a romantic relationship for it to be entertaining enough for her, but Hestia, on the other hand... she doesn't let explosions go off and burst when soulmarks are involved. She doesn't let the chaos lay a finger on that. As much as i hate my family sometimes... soulmarks are a good thing. You are not going to remain alone and pouting. Go to camp. Now.''

Nico followed his father's words, but they simply wouldnt clench around his brain. Now is when his father showed care out of all times? Now? When Nico's heart kept yelling 'no' with an unshaken vigor?

''No.''

''Now!'' Hades spoke again and his words were conclusive. With a simple hand gesture, Nico was sent to the one place he currently dreaded most.

-

A girl's hand wrapped around Percy's wrist and, to him, it felt almost like a betrayal. The mark was right there, staring back at him. It looked like it was gaping up and shaking its head, perhaps mumbling a 'you idiot, wrong soulmate, wrong hand to hold.'. He tried imagining the exact voice a hundred of times. It sounded more pissed off than his french teacher from fifth grade when he'd raise his hand during class to ask if he could go to the bathroom. 'But can't you say it in french, s'il te plait?'

...

Why couldn't Percy listen?

''Let's catch lunch before it's over!'' Naomi from Aphrodite's cabin said sweetly as if trying to lure him in. It felt wrong. Why did he keep following her?

''About the mark...''

''Percy...'' the daughter of the love goddess spoke clearly even as Percy tried to replay the memory in his head. Her voice was sweet and lucid, her vocabulary was rich and her intelligence was definitely blossomed and visible, especially when compared to the other children of Aphrodite's. And yet... he's never been attracted. ''It's an 'N', right?'

Percy stared down at his arm as if he expected the mark to grow legs and run away any following second. "..yes."

"So why not give it a try? When mine will appear, we'll know for sure if we are meant to be or not. Do you have any other guesses...? Please, Percy...?'' her smile was bright, hopeful.

'But it doesn't feel right.' his heart said. Percy didn't say that.

Instead, he smiled back, drowning all of his other thoughts with a simple 'we'll see. we'll see...'

'It's been two months.' his mind kept repeating now.

'I know. But now we'll see soon.'

'You even kissed.'

'...We are basically in a relationship.'

'Did you even agree to that?'

'In a way.'

'Why did you even agree to that?'

What could you expect from a dude that's arguing with himself...

"Percy?"

...

"Percy...!'' a hand tapped his shoulder and he finally woke up, in spite of the fact that his eyes have never been closed. "You've been weirdly staring at your shoe laces. If you were Grover, i'd be sure you were about to eat them up.''

"...Sorry. I'm fine."

Naomi smiled again.

"Then all it's fine. Let's go eat.''

-

"Your name is Pollicem? Doesn't that mean, like, big toe in latin?"

"You asked for my name, kid!" the angry satyr bellowed. "I ain't asked for no judgement!"

"Right, right, sorry..." Nico cleared his throat, straightening his back before speaking again. "What's your soulmark's initial? Is it an 'N'?"

"It's a 'D' and i definitely haven't found the chosen one by going around and asking other people about their love life. It doesn't work like that...," he sniffled the dark haired boy and crunched his nose up in disgust. "..., offspring of Hades. Bleh, you always smell like dead grass and corpses."

He was right. Nico was just stupid. Why would he even search for his chosen one, after all? Not even the Gods of Love could make him desirable. Love has brought anything but happiness to him up until now. Why would things change?

"Say kid, do you fancy anybody?"

"Huh?!" Nico's breath got caught up into his throat, the boy getting mildly startled.

''I see... So, in that case, that person is your soulmate.''

''Impossible.''

''You've got your soulmark today, offspring of Hades?''

''I did.''

''The initial matched your loved one's name?''

''...it did.''

''You still love that person?''

Nico bit down on his lip, self-hatred and anger spilling from his gaze. ''What's this about?'' he mumbled.

''If you still love them, then the gods of love approve. You've found your other half. If that wasn't your case, the affection you held for them would start fading by now.''

''I don't believe that.''

''Stop believing so much in the fact that any child of Hades's destiny is lonliness and isolation. Why do you think soulmarks even exist, kid? To form arguments, envy? No. They are supposed to bring peace. Each person with their designed lover. That way, love is clear and true, unbreakable.''

''I've been assigned... a lover?''

I've been assigned... Percy Jackson... as a lover?

Nico's heartbeat started to freak. ''How am i supposed to believe that?''

''Just like that, demigod. You're currently talking to somebody with two hooves instead of feet and yet you can't believe in love?''

Nico looked back at the other half-bloods from camp, their silhouettes blurry and gray under the dim light of the afternoon. They were all laughing, raising their sleeves and proclaiming that 'look, there's somebody out there for me too' and yet Nico couldn't see himself fitting into the scenery.

''That mark holds a lot of power within you.'' the satyr spoke again. ''I can feel it. Don't be afraid of closure, kid, don't be afraid of vulnerability.'' and off he went into the dark forest, leaving Nico alone.

-

The way Percy stood alone at his table, peacefully eating his usual all blue food plate. The way his lips would slowly, leisurely turn upwards at unexpected times, perhaps thinking about something so weird and stupid that he felt like laughing at himself. So unnoticable... so pretty.

Nico watched in silence. Like always, truth be told... But this time, the moment itself seemed more intense, adrenaline and dread rushing up his veins as a familiar warmth settled in his stomach.

A girl makes her way to the Poseidon tabel.

...What?

That's an intruder. An intruder into this portrait that's been meant to only focus on one single person, on Nico's favourite person.

Her fingers laced around his arm. He looked up. Eyes met. The girl smiled. Her eyes sparkled. She leaned in. She pecked his cheek.

No...

That was not his cheek.

Those were his lips.

Those from between which Percy has said so many stupid, dumb words that somehow Nico didn't find dumb at all. Those that would open and scream in triumph after he'd win yet another battle. Those that were always curving up, forming that beautiful smile.

Nico has always found looking at Percy painful. But now's the moment when the pain did no longer feel good at all.

His eyes filled with hatred. It’s almost funny how the soulmark could turn as meaningless as before oh so easily. He turned around, but that's when he's finally spotted.

"Nico!" Grover yelled with excitement from near a tree, letting a chewed piece of plastic drop out of his mouth.

...stupid satyr

"Nico?" another voice called him from behind. He turned around. He shouldn't have turned around.

Sea blue eyes were staring back at him. How did Percy even get here so fast?

"You've come to visit!" his eyes expressed joy. That felt like a punch in the stomach.

"Like you care." he spat, voice annoyed and hateful.

The glint of joy was dipped in hurt. That felt like another punch in the stomach.

Percy looked him up and down, a sudden act that flustered and startled Nico, who covered it up with even more anger.

"What the hell do you want?"

"You've got musclar.''

...

W-what?

Percy's eyes were glued to Nico's biceps. "Stop staring, weirdo! What the heck...?! What do you want?!''

The taller demigod finally brought his gaze up, looking into the child of Hades's black orbs. They seemed more intense to him this time, mysterious, endering... Percy felt weird.

"What's your soulmark?"




"What?!"

Nico seemed surprised. Percy was surprised, too. He didn't know why he asked. He felt pushed too, interested.

"...It's none of your business." the boy replied.

It felt like his business.

Nico perhaps felt suffocated by Percy's fixed stare because he soon spoke again. "I didn't even get it yet.''

Black and green eyes were locked together still. There was a lot of tension. Dozens of words seemed to be hanging in the air. A sudden realization washed over Percy, but he remained silent. When he tried to open his mouth again, he realized that Nico has already left.

-

''You what?" Percy almost staggered as he listened to Annabeth's words. They were on their morning walk. From what the demigod has heard, Nico came back and stayed at camp over night but Percy didn't get the chance to see his face a second time.

"You gain feelings for your soulmate immediately after you get your mark, as well as loose feelings for anybody else you have previously fallen for." Annabeth explained again. "An organized system through which the gods make sure there are no third parties involved in soulmark work."

"Then Naomi's..."


"...not the one." she finished his thoughts. He's been saying that same goddamn sentence in his mind over and over again, but saying it out loud... it finally felt real, believable.

"You didn't tell me this before?!"

"I'm surprised you didn't know. But i did always think you dated Naomi out of kindness. ...I still think that."

"Maybe you were too scared that i'd finally come to the conclusion that Nemo's my soulmate."


Annabeth rolled her eyes, but her smile was playful. "A fish can't be your soulmate, seaweed brain."

They sank in a comfortable silence for about a minute or two. Then the girl started speaking again.

"But... suddenly finding somebody attractive that you didn't before, feeling the need to see somebody else's soulmark, the sudden feeling that you're deeply connected to someone, emotionally and mentally, are all signs that said person is your soulmate."

The odd interaction with Nico from yesterday was the first thing he thought off.

He stopped in his tracks, sweat covering his forehead and eyes opened wide.

Wait a damn minute-

-

"I'm sorry, Percy."

Huh...?

The girl that stood in front of him - his ex, i suppose you could say - had tears straining her cheeks. Whether the cause of them was guilt of sadness, he didn't know. But they left soft, unnoticable traces down her skin, which were glowing vividly in the summer sun as if they tried showing off hope and relief rather than regret.

"My mark appeared today... It's not a 'P'."

"I know." Percy said softly and the girl looked up in confusion. The male demigod was the one who smiled sweetly this time. "And you've probably talked with somebody else today. And you've probably felt reborned in a way, like you've suddenly found a long lost part of you, a piece of puzzle that didn't fit you before but for some reason it now embraces you so perfectly."

"Percy, how-"

"I know the feeling. And it's alright. I've found him too."

-

Waking up in the morning...

'What a bother' Nico'd say if you were to ask him.

Rolling right and left underneath the covers, the demigod realized that the blanket couldn't even provide him warmth. He's never felt colder.

Knock Knock

"Leave."

Knock Knock

"Leave, god dammit!"

The door creaked open. Nico got up with a snarl.

"Why the f-"

The words got caught up into his throat. A whimper softly slided from between his lips as Percy stepped closer.

"Stay back!" Nico took the stygian sword from near his bed and brought it in front of him to keep the distance. The other demigod raised his arms in surrender and then Nico cursed himself for paying so close attention to his lips as the boy started talking.

"What's your soulmark?"

"I told you i don't have it."

"...liar" Percy mumbled.

"What the fuck is your problem?! I told you i-" he yelped as Poseidon's stupid son kneeled down and rushed forward, avoiding the sword as arms came around Nico's legs and brought him up on his shoulders. The sword fell down on the floor with a quiet thud and the smaller male started cursing and yelling in protest.

"Dumbass! Wait, wait-"

Percy brough him down on the bed, caging the boy and struggling to bring one of his sleeve's down. Nico shoved a fist into his left shoulder, throwing the boy off the bed. The son of Poseidon still had his hand clenched around one of the black-eyed male's wrist, therefore they ended up rolling toghether onto the dusty floor, fighting to be the one on top. They stopped spinning when they hit the wall and Nico still remained the one trapped under Percy's dominating figure. The green haired male reached down and finally managed to work with the other's sleeve and see his bare, naked wrist.

A proud 'P' stood glinting under the pale bedroom lights.

"...why didn't you tell me?"

Nico didn't speak. He looked scared, he looked ashamed.

Percy released the boy's wrist and showed off his own. The 'N' no longer felt wrong. It felt like it's finally found its part, its continuation, its home.

There was some strange tension in the room, hidden from the human eye yet touchable and itchy. It felt as if the air was trying to suffocate them. The boys' limbs felt numb and cold, searching for alleviation. The whole atmosphere around the boys was pushing them together, uniting their souls, their bodies... And not even a demigod could do anything but kneel down in front of such a mighty power.

The next few seconds were so intense and brimmed with emotions and sensations that it almost felt like a lucid dream: blurry and vague but real. Percy leaned down while Nico brought his chin up. The son of Poseidon allowed his arms to find their place around the other's hips, pressing their foreheads together while rubbing the tip of their noses in an ardent manner. Nico's breath was hot against his lips. Without being certain of who started the following act (perhaps it was both of them at the same time), their mouths clashed together, speaking the words and feelings which the two demigods haven't got the courage to say yet. Percy's soft, moisturized lips were gently scratched by Nico's dry ones, moving in perfect sync. It felt as if they've completed that one abberant puzzle that they've been working at for decades, twisting the pieces and always wondering why things didn't fit, why things didn't feel right.

Well, finally... things felt right.

They eventually parted and Percy's lips suddenly felt so empty and full of sorrow that he attempted to dive right back into the affectionate act. Nico's index finger stopped him on the way.

"Your shitty girlfriend..."

"It's no longer."

"You got more explaining to do than that."

"I know- i know... I will... But for now, can't we just enjoy this?"

Who was Nico to complain?

While their lips reconnected, tingling with a newfound passion and desire, while their limbs began tangling toghether, focusing on nothing else except the other's warmth and soft skin, Nico could be heard mumbling one single thing against Percy's parted lips:

"My dad's going to kill me."

[heli0s-writes]

As it Was

Summary:  Sam warned him when he arrived at the compound, returned to the timeline he ran from: It’s different now, she doesn’t do the superhero thing anymore, she’s got another life now, but he wouldn’t listen. He can’t. He must hope that some things are the same, that your love is the same. Pairing: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader A/N: ANGST. Re-written Post-endgame kinda thing because I’m bitter. 3.3k word count. Very inspired by Hozier’s “As it Was” :^) 

As it Was Masterpost

There is a roadway.

The tires crunch over rock and gravel as Steve drives down the familiar path. Flanked by overgrown grass and wildflowers in full bloom, insects flutter around the petals, sunlight glistening on waxy blades of green. He can smell it, even inside the car, ignited in his nose and blazing into his chest.

The smell of summer. The crushed earth beneath muddied boots.

He can taste the watermelon sugar, tingling on the sweet tongue encased in an even sweeter mouth.

Your bright pink lips wet with cold bites of fruit. He loved the way you would collect the smooth seeds and pinch them between your teeth. He loved the way you’d spit them into his face—silly with joy under the shade of a tree. Too slow, baby!

He can hear your laughter in the dead air-conditioned chamber of one of many compound cars. If he could bottle it up into a music box and wind it up just to hear now, he would.

He would.

Steve’s heart twists tighter as the road continues its winding way deeper through the thicket of verdant trees. Sunlight pours through in golden rays, slipping past the cracks of parted leaves. A pathway the two of you walked many times over, hand-in-hand.

There’s a separation of the blades to the left, a well-worn spot leading into an open space where you would spread the picnic blanket, stuff him full of cold cut sandwiches and fruit pie. Iced lemonade, tart. Then, under the light of the sun, or moon, or any time or season in-between, you would wrap yourself over him, love him so sweetly he could weep now.

But then is not now.

For the past three years of your time, then had been now.

But now that he’s back... now is something else.

His phone rings, echoing through the car with its shrill tittering. Sam’s number appears, as it has been every five minutes for the past two hours of his journey. Sam calling. Sam leaving messages. Sam texting.

Don’t, Cap. Don’t go there. It’s changed, Cap. Things have changed. Trust me, man. It’s better if you don’t go.

But Steve has to. He has to change your mind. Make you forgive him because he loves you so much. He has to make it all go back to as it was.

Back then, on the platform, he had been sure. In the sepia-colored minutes of his wayward past, he had been sure. That unreachable possibility had become so nearly tangible he could grab it in his hands. He was inches from her—from Peggy, and it took him decades away from you.

So, he leapt. He followed his foolish boyish heart to its dream. He told you the night before under the awning in front of the cabin, windchimes striking in the draft, fireflies all around. He’s never been a part of this world, not truly. He’s got to go back to where he belongs.

With Peggy, you mean?

You cried and cried then, wrapping your arms around your middle, refusing to say anything else, and he had never seen you so shattered. But he had been sure.

And then, only four weeks into the returned years of Steve Rogers, suddenly, like a cold hand tugging him awake, the dream slipped.

He wasn’t sure after all.

Sam calls again, but Steve is obstinate. The cabin peeks over the hill, sunken in the distance of the field just as he remembered—the little cobblestoned well in the field, string lights around the perimeter, mailbox at the edge of the road, rainbow pinwheels you’d planted in the ground because they’re cute, Steve.

From the thick branch of the oak tree you have hung a tire swing-- endearing, and so like you. Next to it is a picnic table where a single copper watering can sits in the middle, bunches of wildflowers sticking out. A tangle of yellow and green. Like your arms wrapped around his waist, linked fingers squeezing him tightly, playfully, pretending you could crush him.

Gonna kill you! Crack ya ribs!

He would grunt dramatically behind a muffled chuckle, Yes, baby. I’ve died! You’re so—ugh! Strong! B-Bucky! Avenge me!

Bucky would roll his eyes with a smirk, You two are nauseating.

You would stick your tongue out, turn it back around to Steve and lick a stripe from his throat to his chin, making him shudder all over as he watched your pretty pink mouth curl into a grin, and growl. Steven Grant Rogers, growled, and Bucky‘d throw his hands up and abscond before his eyes might see Captain America do something indecent.

He didn’t have that with Peggy. He didn’t have the twinkling of your mischievous eyes, the flame of your passion. He only had the bitter chill of your absence and the stark realization that a first love and a true love are two different things.

Sam warned him when he arrived at the compound: It’s different now, she doesn’t do the superhero thing anymore, she’s got another life now, but he wouldn’t listen. He can’t. He must hope that some things are the same, that your love is the same.

How long would you wait for me?

Steve pulls the car into the patch of trodden grass he once parked in, steps out, and closes the door quietly. There’s a clattering inside before the wooden door creaks open— as it always has, even after he loosened and tightened all its hinges— it still creaks, same as ever.

Your shape in the doorway.

One leg at a time, you emerge.

A weightless gauze dress hangs from your frame as you linger in the opening, back turned to him. In one hand is a small twine basket lined with gingham fabric. A pair of garden shears sit nestled inside. He remembers this— the walks to clip flowers and pick berries. You would put the berries in the pies, place the blossoms and leaves in mason jars all over the countertops until it looked wild in the house, too.

Your hair is longer, he smiles as he continues to watch, gazing at the loose braid you’ve fashioned your locks into. You used to complain about how fast it would grow, annoyed at how the buzzed side with the sharp chevron pattern needed to be maintained closely.

He supposes you’ve grown tired of the upkeep. You’ve let it grow out now.

The braid is new. The dress is new. But the way you lean into the house, so relaxed and carefree, that is familiar.

Steve is unsure how to approach. He doesn’t want to startle you, even though his very presence is startling. He knows your capabilities, and with those razor-sharp shears next to your elbow he wouldn’t try it. No, you couldn’t crush his ribs, but you could slice him gullet to belly in a second.

He opens his mouth to call your name, but the door creaks louder as you lean down and push it further back into the house, urging faintly. You turn, duck your torso behind the wall, leaving a deliberate space by your legs.

And then he sees it. The change Sam warned him about. The life.

His heart drops. And trembles. And feels like it could burst entirely.

Two tiny bare feet tap forward, kicking with each step. A happy, shrill, cry leaps into the air as the boy clumsily jumps one foot at a time, and lands past your dress.

The child.

“Wait for me, baby,” you call, still tucked halfway inside, “Wait for mama.”

“Mama!” He sputters and giggles, “Mama!” Mama.

God. The boy is beautiful. He is barefoot and his face is eclipsed by a canvas bucket hat, shielding the plump, pale skin of him from the summer sun. Even if Steve can’t see his face yet, he knows, because of you, any child would be perfect. A cherub. A little cherub that could have been his.

“I’m coming, just… let me get my hat. And sunscreen for you. Ah, mama has been so bad with that sunscreen.” There is more fumbling as you drop the basket on your arm into the dark house and briefly slip inside.

The boy stops at the step leading down, pondering his own confidence to tread forward. He sits, instead, letting his bottom save any potential fall before he scoots his legs over. After braving the first step, he looks up. He blinks slowly, and Steve catches sight of his enormous blue eyes, and long lashes, button nose, rosy red cheeks, slightly open mouth slack with surprise and a little bit of wonder.

“Mama.” He says, before tilting his head, “Mama, Mama. Body! Some here.”

“Someone’s here?”

You quickly emerge, hand fisting a wide-brimmed straw hat, arm reaching forward to scoop your child up and away. He is plopped firmly on your jutting left hip before you tear the hat off your head, stare into the tall and broad figure of a man you have known too well. A surprised breath tears itself from your throat.

“Steve?”

His mouth jerks into a careful smile. Nothing he had practiced during the car ride feels right in this moment; all his words have been tossed into the yard by the hands of a three-year-old boy. The hat drops from your hand, quietly slides on the dusty wooden patio, speckles of it catching light and blowing away in the easy wind. You blink, eyes shifting side to side as if questioning your reality.

“Steve?”

His name slips off your tongue so sweetly and he can’t help but close his eyes to memorize you again. That voice, his name, the years have passed, and he hasn’t forgotten it. He is so goddamn sorry to have left it at all.

From the first time you called it, to the first time you whispered it, promised your allegiance to it, to the first time you sobbed it, following him into the unknown and the darkness for five years. No matter how black the night, he had you.

Your love was unmoved.

“Sweetheart,” He pleas, stepping forward with a shaky outstretched hand.

You stand frozen like a statue, everything stiff and still except for the fluttering of your creamy dress and the boy on your hip, babbling freely. His little fingers and their little fingernails prod and poke at your neck, grabbing onto the strands that frame your face—too short to stay in the braid.

God. You’re beautiful. You glow, softened by the years without fighting and training, tanned by the sunlight, kissed by the breeze and rain and butterfly wings, and everything else but him.

“Mama, mama. Want down, down!”

The boy squeezes and releases his soft fists, reaching out and kicking your back with his foot. He begins to grunt and whine, head thrown behind and lolling over at Steve. “Down!”

“Hey,” Steve smiles, taking a finger to caress the boy’s palm, calming his motions, “What’s your name?”

You slowly turn to look at your child, eyes beginning to focus on him, as if suddenly remembering his weight perched on your side. A quick breath is sucked into your lungs as he blinks and grins, laughing. “Jams! This is mama an’ this is Jams.”

“J-James.” You correct with a broken, wet, laugh, “H-he’s.. his name—it’s James.”

Steve watches him continue to thrash against your side out of joy, now, as if being held by you is a game in itself. He brings your hair to his mouth, blubbering into it, giggling when it tickles his face. He taps on your collar with a finger, gnaws impishly on your shoulder until a line of drool trickles down. Then, he laughs again, and pushes his cheeks into it, hugging your bicep tightly.

The boy—the angel—James. Steve feels himself clench up with the new knowledge. His name is James.

“James?” There is betrayal in the way he questions it. As much as he tries to steel it, a tiny rupture creeps through the single syllable.

You pull the boy close to your body, maneuvering until you’re holding him with both arms, one slanted over his back, the other under his bottom. He sighs and leans his head onto your shoulder, makes soft noises of contentment. “Mama… walk? Go for a walk, mama.”

Between your overcast eyes and Steve’s inspecting blue ones, James is tucked like a pebble in a cobblestone wall, desperately holding back the torrent from both sides. You grip him unwaveringly, shush him now for the time being.

“Is he—Bucky? He’s Bucky’s?”

Steve inspects the front yard, the blindingly hopeful curtain finally lifting from his eyes—there are three seats on the porch, three flowers painted on the mailbox, three little stumps further away surrounding an extinguished fire.

A home—his home, his place, now filled in with the bulk of someone else. And not just anyone else, he thinks bitterly, but Bucky. His best friend, now his old lover’s new lover. It spins him out of control.

Your face scrunches up with disdain, mouth twisting into a scowl he’s known rarely, but still—he knows it.

“Yes, Steve.” You spit, nostrils flaring with anger, “He’s named after his father. He’s named after his real father.”

Steve frowns, broken-hearted, apologetic, confused. Your eyes have welled up with unshed tears, your lips pinched tightly together, as if holding back your words will keep the tears at bay, too. He doesn’t know what you mean as he stares vacantly at your protective stance.

But then he sees it.

He sees it when James grunts, bored now of a conversation that is years beyond his interest and comprehension. He beats his fists on your chest and leans back in agony.

His hat tumbles from his crown. Down, down, it falls noiselessly and when Steve looks back up to where his perfect little head is—returned to your collar, he sees brilliant flaxen curls, catching sunbeams.

Blindingly gold—almost white.

James twists his little body around and stares at Steve with some mysterious indulgence now that they are both wholly revealed to each other.

“He was there for me, you know.” You whisper, heavy teardrops running down to your chin, pooling until they barely hang on. “He was there the entire time. Nine whole agonizing months, knowing that I was growing something that was yours. I had nobody but Bucky.”

You press your lips to James’ head, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin, “I was out of my mind with grief. Th-thought, I couldn’t—I couldn’t have it. Couldn’t have a baby that was yours—you’d left me. You left what we had for something that was barely a dream, Steve.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—I didn’t.”

“Bucky was there.” You continue, ignoring Steve’s confession. He bites his tongue, hopes it draws blood, hopes in secret you might take his very life from him. He can’t stand to be alive anymore, staring now at two people he left behind.

“Bucky was there, and he loved me through it. And when this little… when this sweet boy—” you press your eyes to his forehead, “When this boy came, we held each other and wept.”

A little laugh is muffled in James’ hair.

“So, yeah. He’s named after his real father, not his biological one.”

James leans his face towards yours, places his palms onto your cheek and pats the wetness away, “Mama. No more rain, mama. Mama, sunny outside.”

You burst apart, crumbling into tears against his little palm, pressing kisses to his fingertips, and Steve crumbles too. The boy, the precious boy, who is both his and not his, turns and looks at him earnestly. You whisper to him, kiss him on the cheek, Mama’s okay, baby. Mama’s got you with her now. Sunshine boy.

And then you turn your eyes to him. Those once doting eyes he always found gazing longingly, even after he was yours. Now they cut him, sharp and cold, holding him in their deep, dark light.

“You need to leave, before he comes home.” You whisper over the sound of insect wings and birds in the distance. The trees rustle and sway, as if egging your words on.

Home. Your home is with Bucky. Not Steve, not anymore.

“He’ll want to see you, but not like this.”

He wouldn’t even know what to say to Bucky. He wouldn’t know what to expect to hear, either. You and Bucky, and his son—your son, Steve’s son, Bucky’s son. All strung up together in a terrible web, waiting for the spider.

Somehow, he feels like the spider.

“Steve,” you call, and for a second, he hears it lovingly. Like how you might have called his name in front of the fireplace, nestled in his arms, snow settling in sheets outside. Steve, I love you.

“Steve.” It’s firm again, hard and cutting, ice chips crunched through your teeth, “When you left, you left Bucky, too. In your absence, we found each other. You didn’t just break me, Steve; you broke him. And you need to go, because I won’t let you do that to him again.”

You don’t have to say it, but he can parse it from your clenched jaw and the way you aim your words at him. You love Bucky.

The trajectory of the truth burns straight through his guts. It churns and twists and drugs his entire being until it leaves every last cell numb.

Once upon a time, you loved him, too.

But that was before he knew the darkness, before he knew the possibility and lost himself in the what if, the then, burning away the now and the love he already had.

You set James down softly in the dirt after landing soft kisses to his cheeks, watch his toes flex and grip the grass. He places the hat back over his head, lopsided, but on, regardless. He bounces on his feet, bending his knees and getting a feel for the ground beneath him. The silly ritual completes when he pads away, chasing a hovering dragonfly. Every few seconds, he looks back and laughs.

Steve’s heart cracks open with every inch of the boy’s smile.

The two of you stand for what seems like an eternity, trying to find something to end it on. He can’t do anything more than laugh resentfully, because if he doesn’t, he’ll cry, and he’ll never stop. It comes out as two clipped scoffs before he splinters anyway.

So, he nods, accepts the defeat he’s given himself and lets the tears trickle down his face to match you. Blinking the sea from your eyes, you sniffle loudly and turn, splitting the grass with your feet to follow the trail James has made into the field.

Pulling out of the driveway, Steve watches you next to your son, his son, Bucky’s son— that beautiful boy, blue-eyed like both of them. You bend and lift him, toss him gently, nuzzle him and smile before you take him down into the grass and continue the walk away from the house. He plucks flowers and raises them up and you let him tuck them inelegantly into your braid, still lovely.

Steve closes his eyes one last time to sear the image into his mind. He interjects himself into the scene, walking hand-in-hand down that habitual path. He imagines James on his hip, stares into the phantom face of that boy of his, your laughter ringing next to him like the wind. He laughs and laughs, and cries and cries. And then, he drives until the house is gone from the rearview mirror.

No, it will never be as it was again.

The dream, honeyed, sweet, as beautiful as it may be, it would only be half as beautiful as the truth could have been. Half as beautiful as the boy. Half as beautiful as you.

Next

[fanfics-await-you]

I never know what to expect from him (Part 4)

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Female OC

Summary: Poe Dameron is your friend, your fellow resistance fighter, but most of all he's a goddamn pain in your ass. And yeah, maybe you're falling for him and well yes, it seems like he's falling for you too, but now REALLY isn't the time.

Tags: angst, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, minor ROS spoilers

notes: Thank you for coming back after so long. It took me far longer than I’d imagined to remember how to write again.

There’s gonna be another part simply because this ended up being so long lol. I’ve written like 80% of the final part so that should be up pretty soon.

Inspired by: @polkanote‘s post & @andhumanslovedstories‘s post

Word Count: 1,913

masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Everything damn fucking hurts.

It’s my first coherent thought to rise from the white noise. Stars, I simultaneously need to puke and eat a whole battalion’s worth of rations. I don’t move yet, but allow the pain throughout my body to pulse and subside.

Why do I hurt so much?

I backpaddle through the haze. Exegol…Lightning…Crash…

Ah, yes. Breaking a 5-metre fall with your ribs does that.

The rest is a blank.

There’s a shout in the distance. Although it’s distant, the voice is somehow familiar, and I open my eyes. I’m greeted by the sterile whites of a med room and a flicker of fear blossoms in my chest.

Shit, was I captured?

I quickly look to my wrists for restraints but find nothing. The fear begins to dissolve, but I still have no clue where I am. I hear feet outside the room and attempt to sit u-

“Fuck!” The word bites but is barely audible.

I freeze for a second as I allow my body to air its grievances. Slower, I try again and manage to prop myself up against the pillows. The static is starting to clear, thank the Maker, but my memory is not returning. I guess I’ll just have to wait until someone turns up.

A woman speaks just outside the door, “Don’t wake her, Dameron.”

...

…He’s alive.

The door opens far too slowly to reveal a bare-foot and out of breath Poe. The sight of him clears the rest of the haze while a bright feeling bubbles its way through my chest.

We speak at the same time.

“You’re here.” I am elated that we have both survived Exegol, against the odds.

“You’re alive.” Poe’s voice, however, is barely a whisper, and his face is haunted.

He stands motionless in the doorway as I look at him puzzled.

“Of course, I am. You think a little fall could kill me?” I joke.

Poe still doesn’t move but simply repeats himself.

“Kess, you’re alive,” his voice is scratchy, like he’s been crying.

A chord of worry pulls in my chest, and all I want is to spring out of bed and wrap myself around him. Given the radiating pain still lingering in my chest, I go for the next thing.

I slowly reach out my hand towards him. “Poe? What’s wrong?”

He’s suddenly in motion. Poe takes my hand between his palms and sinks into the chair beside the bed all the while never taking his gaze from my face. As we stare at each other for a moment, I realise that he has been crying and my brow scrunches up in concern.

Gingerly, I place my other hand on his cheek and quietly ask, “Poe, tell me. What happened?”

Poe takes a deep breath and leans into my palm before lowering his gaze to our intertwined hands.

“I watched your X-wing explode into a thousand pieces with no sign of a parachute…Kess, we all thought you were dead,” he says quietly.

A metallic taste, like blood, settles in my mouth as the news of my apparent death sinks in. I want to respond but my tongue has gone dead in my mouth. I simply can’t find the words, so I squeeze his clasped hands and wait for him to continue. Multiple breaths pass before Poe’s ready to continue.

“I- I thought you were dead. I thought that after everything, we had won only for me to lose everything…for me to lose you.”

Poe leans forward to set his elbows on the bed and bring his forehead to rest upon our hands, as if in prayer. It’s only as I notice his hot tears trailing down our fingers that I realise that my eyes are stinging.

“And Kess,” his voice cracks at my name, “It was unbearable. I wanted- I wanted to burn down the entire First Order for daring to even touch you.”

I see Poe’s jaw clench and can feel the shiver of his hands against my skin. Again, all I want to do is wrap my arms around him but still, I let him finish.

Poe’s voice shakes, “But afterwards, when we returned in triumph, it became so much worse. Because I had let you go. Because it all meant nothing without you. Because I had failed you.”

We sit in silence for a moment as the weight of his words sink in. My tears finally fall and something like guilt is throbbing against my sternum. Thank the Maker, at least this time I know what to say. I bring the hand that had drifted to Poe’s shoulder up to his chin and make him lift his head to meet my eyes.

“Never,” I say, “in all the time that I have known you, Poe Dameron, have you ever failed me. Never. Do you understand me?”

He just shuts his eyes.

I speak again, more sternly, “Never, Poe, do you hear me?”

Poe doesn’t respond, but nods slightly.

“I’m sorry things turned out the way they did, but look at me, Poe. I’m still here.”

Poe just grasps my hand tighter.

I brush away the few tears that still cling to his face. “Poe.”

He finally opens his eyes and I whisper out the words, “I’m still here.”

Poe smiles slightly and the world feels a little bit more right. We sit in silence for a while, just gazing at each other, before a question arises out of something he’s said.

“Wait, so did we win? Did we take out the fleet?” I say.

Poe looks at me in confusion, “You don’t remember?”

I shrug, “I remember an explosion that blew out my chute, and then hitting the ground hard. The rest is black. I don’t know how I got here.”

He shakes his head in surprise and disbelief for a second. Poe then releases my hand in order to cradle my face between his palms. His face is covered in the hugest grin.

Out of instinct, I smile slightly back, “What? What is it?”

“Yeah, we took out the Exegol fleet. And the whole First Order… Kessandra, we won the war.”

I’m dumbfounded.

I open my mouth, but my lips form silent words and nothing come out. Poe continues to smile but also raises a single finger to the air, asking me to pause. I just stare back at him as he tilts his head slightly towards the door.

“Can you hear the music?” Poe whispers, and I turn my attention beyond the quiet of the med wing.

Faintly, but clearly, the song of strings and the low beating of drums can just be heard. Above them both, a muted chorus of singing, clapping, and laughter finds its way to us. In that second, it truly sinks in.

We won?

I clap a hand to my mouth and Poe excitedly nods in response.

“The war is over, Kess. We won.”

In spite of the pain that still loiters in my chest, I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. He hugs me back and laughs quietly as he holds me. We sit, intertwined, as I try to understand what has happened. The thoughts keep spinning and whirling through my head as I struggle to fully comprehend what they mean. Suddenly, two things become crystal clear to me.

I don’t want to leave Poe’s side ever again.

I need to get out of this room.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Poe pulls back in order to look me in the face.

A snort slips out of his mouth, “You’re serious?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course I am. If we just won the war, then I’m not staying in this room a moment longer.”

A twinge of concern appears on Poe’s face. “Kess, you’re injured. You need to rest.”

I lightly push him back and go to push the blanket back before pausing. Subtly, I check something. Ah yes, I’m wearing pants. Good first step.

Poe places a hand on my shoulder before I can try to move again and looks at me seriously.

I place a hand over his, but don’t back down. “This is a night that will go down in history. I’m not missing it for a few cracked ribs.”

He looks close to relenting but not quite convinced, so I smile and speak softly, “I’ll be alright, Poe. You’ll pick me up if I fall, right?”

I can see the smile in his eyes, and I know that it’s going to be fine. With every passing breath, I feel a little more like myself and so, I do what comes naturally: order Poe around.

“Alright, you go find us some shoes while I get up. Also, don’t let the nurse-bots see you, you remember how that went last time we tried to sneak out.” I laugh as he sits back slightly and rolls his eyes.

Poe stands and gives a mock salute. “Yes, right away, boss.”

I watch with a smile as he disappears out the door. Slowly, I begin the process of pushing back the blankets and placing my feet on the ground. Thankfully, although my whole body is aching, only my ribs are really giving me grief. Sure, everything’s going to hurt like I’ve been run over by a tank tomorrow, but that’s not my problem right now. I lightly stretch as I better survey the extent of the damage.

“You look about ready to run a marathon,” Poe’s voice is gently mocking as he closes the door behind him.

“You know, if there was something in reach, I’d be pegging it at your head right about now.”

“If you’re dealing out threats like that, maybe I should keep the shoes.”

“Would you just shut up and get over here and help me.”

“Anything for my favourite girl.”

I roll my eyes at the endearment, but it blossoms a warm but equally longing glow inside my chest. Poe sits at the chair and gently pulls one of my feet into his lap. I stare at him in comfortable silence as he tenderly puts my shoes on. For a couple of breaths after, we sit like this with his hands resting on my calves before Poe evidently remembers our plan.

With a shake of his head, he slowly places my feet on the ground before standing. “C’mon party animal, isn’t there somewhere we’re supposed to be?”

Poe extends his hands as an anchor, which I use to pull myself to standing. I sway slightly, and quickly one of Poe’s hands goes to my hip to steady me. In one way it works, and the horizon stops moving. On the other hand, my knees feel a little bit weaker, and I might be blushing. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I nod my head to signal that I’m ready. Poe releases my hand and steps so that he’s standing beside me. In the process of doing this, the hand steadying me draws a caressing line across the small of my back in order to rest upon the other side of my hip. Shit, I’m definitely blushing now. I glance at Poe and see that he’s grinning back at me. He did that on purpose. Jackass. Nonetheless, the pressures of his hands are more than welcome as Poe drapes my closest arm across his shoulders.

“You comfy, Kess?” His tone is teasing.

I shake my head in joke annoyance. “Shut up, let’s go.”

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 29 – Disaster and Calamity

“Goddamn it...... If only I had arrived sooner...”

“Don’t do that to yourself. It wasn’t deliberate, and you were left in the dark regarding the situation.”

Frankenstein stabbed the end of his sentence with a big fat period, as if warning Lunark that he will hear no more of her self-reprimand.

As she gaped at him, she suddenly made a snickering noise; knowing this is no situation in the world to laugh at, Frankenstein raised his eyebrow.

“I can’t imagine what would have become of us if it weren’t for you.”

Her lips curved in a beautiful crescent, and Frankenstein could feel his head swaying in dazzlement, because of which he could not keep his eyes locked on her face.

To his great relief, his control over his facial expressions was not completely lost. Not just yet.

“Are you saying things would have been irredeemable if it weren’t for me? I know most of your warriors as of now were chosen urgently, but I think you have a trust issue with your own kind.”

“That’s not true. Of course I trust them. But it’s different from the trust I have for you. It’s like... How should I put this?”

After rotating her head to either side for a bit, Lunark set her eyes on a wolfsbane plant, its blossoms embodying the exact color of her pupils.

“My trust for my kind is like trust in a flower. It is capable of thriving and flourishing on its own, but it will surely return your investment as much as you input. On the other hand, you shouldn’t expect much if you did not make much investment, though it won’t wilt so easily.”

Then what about your trust in me?

Frankenstein could not bring himself to ask, lest his voice be marred with expectation too tangible.

“And my trust in you is like... Like that in the moon.”

Lunark raised her head, beholding the milky celestial body glowing above, serving as a spotlight for just the two of them.

“Its presence will never fade away no matter how far it is. It stays inconspicuous for most of your daily life, but you can locate it in its orbit, promised and undoubted, once you seek it. So you can always tell yourself that it will always be there for you.”

And it’s unreachable by all standards. And it shines wherever and whenever I gaze at it.

Lunark muttered her final comment like a whisper, but she soon regretted that she did not furnish it mute in her head.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Lunark’s heartstrings tugged when Frankenstein retorted, and after hesitation she yielded the latter half of the truth.

“...You shine. You always do, wherever you are.”

As soon as she said that, Frankenstein’s ears, hidden beneath his silky blonde, heated up as his blood boiled, followed suit by his head and heart.

“What? Don’t tell me this is your first time having someone tell you you’re good-looking. I should know it’s not the first, and certainly not the first from me. And don’t you dare ask me to repeat myself. My face is not thick enough to do that.”

As she feigned calmness, the series of words she fired broke the surface of Frankenstein’s heart and caused relentless ripples, each greater than the one before.

Now that he has acknowledged his feelings for her, the words that should contain no meaning (or so he had thought) reached the depths that he did not even know they existed.

On the contrary, he did not hate the fact that she had such high evaluation for him. In fact, he liked it, so much that he felt kind of lightheaded.

The only thing he could do was to peek at her as she stared above, smiling very serenely for a reason Frankenstein could not imagine and would die to figure out.

(Illustration by. RyO - you can find her DeviantArt page here)

He managed to break free from his reverie only when his mind screamed at him that if he keeps gawking at her, he will not be able to produce an excuse when she inquires him what he is looking at.

“So where were you all this time?”

Lunark turned silent at once, not sure what to do.

She had been in Seoul, the perimeter near the neighborhood where Frankenstein used to be. She raced all the way to Korea right after her encounter with Rael.

She wanted to do something to relieve Frankenstein of his stress, so she opted to get something he is fond of from Korea.

To her utmost surprise, she ran up to something not at all she had looked forward to, and she was not sure how she should unleash the details to the man in front of her.

The three modified humans under his wings had a problem – or they were the problem.

And it was by no means insignificant, momentous enough to be dubbed a disaster.

*****

Few days ago, a building zone in Seoul

Never in her life has Lunark ever wished so dearly for a reason.

The one who would have the greatest knowledge of Frankenstein’s likes would be him.

However, immediately after she reminded herself of the fact, she could feel an invisible wall thrusting itself upon her.

‘Just what kind of reason can I give to ask him what Frankenstein likes?’

It was no hour to pay any sort of visit; she regretted that she did not arrive during day, when he would be at school, a much more convenient environment for her to attempt lying that she wanted to say hi during a business trip to Korea.

And since this was a personal visit, she had no legitimate excuse to waste more than a day to fulfill her purpose.

Then it hit her that Frankenstein might not be happy that she had sought Raizel on a personal matter, and in no chance in hell was she going to do something that had even a close-to-zero chance of winning herself his murderous glare.

Which is why she settled on counsel from the three modified humans in his team. For which reason was what she was missing once again.

She did not have to confront them to realize that they are willing to bolt out anytime as soon as she pretends there is something wrong with Frankenstein.

And they were not stupid to buy when she tells them she decided to drop by, whether she had something to deal with or not.

She did break some ice with M-21, offering him a helping hand or two, but she remembered how she made it specific that the only reason why she would ever help him is because he is Frankenstein’s comrade.

‘And why did I ever say that to him...?!’

Unable to find a way out of the labyrinth of trouble in her own mind, Lunark was helplessly exhausting her time, stuck in the shady corner of a nameless building, until she caught a familiar scent in the air.

‘...It’s them. And it’s getting stronger. Like they are coming this way. Did they notice I’m here?!’

Feeling guilty for an unimaginable reason, Lunark made herself even scarcer, well-aware that she had nothing to hide.

She peeked at the sources of the scent, the only hint that she was very close to the ones she was looking for.

She could find the three men, in the exact same looks as the imprinted images in her head, entering a building at distance, in a curiously and highly cautious manner, probably because of whatever that was waiting for them inside.

‘What a coincidence.’

Lunark could not tell whether she should be amazed at herself, having provided herself a chance though it was never intended, or frustrated with herself, incapable of using her chance when it is right there.

She could only watch for what would happen next, and before too long M-21 ran outside – or rather, he ejected himself from within.

Tao followed and held him by his shoulders, and Lunark guessed Takio was near the entrance, by the glimpse of his purple hair dancing.

And M-21 exhibited quite vicious gestures and expressions during their conversation.

‘...No, it’s more than vicious. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him punching at them, and I’d thought they are more than close.’

Lunark knew this requires more investigation, so she slipped away from her secret respite to hear them.

“...This to us?!”

“Hold it, M-21. Let’s just calm down and...”

“I should’ve known something is wrong. I should’ve known something is wrong when you took your least favorite menu from the fridge at an inconvenient spot to reach, and then you started taking out some of our groceries. How could you keep this a secret, Tao? You knew that our fridge has been losing weight recently! Did you give a hand in this?!”

“I didn’t! I didn’t even know what was going on until now. I figured there must be a good reason why Takio didn’t tell us, so...”

“Oh, yes. Speaking of which, let’s hear it. So tell me how good is your reason to keep one of the most dangerous agents of Union hidden in here.”

Lunark could not remember what exactly happened next; when she snapped awake, she found herself looking directly into three pairs of eyes, quaking in recognition.

“W-what are you...”

“Move.”

“What? Uh, wait...!”

Instead of reiterating herself, Lunark shoved herself into the door, the three men too flustered to stop her.

And so Lunark came face-to-face with a woman with red hair and sharp looks all too familiar, flinching at her in a safehouse marred with equipment and supplies boasting Frankenstein’s touch.

“You...?”

“...Aren’t you the 5th Elder?”

“...Care to explain?”

Her eyes were fixed on Yuigi, but Lunark was clearly addressing the supposed inviter, the tall, slender sniper.

“...As you can see, I saved Miss... I mean, her. I found her imprisoned as a specimen in Crombell’s temporary lab and took her with me.”

“Have you lost your senses? She’s not just a Union agent – she’s one of Cerberus, the personal bodyguards of the 12th Elder! Since neither of your teammates knew about this, I guess there’s no chance that Frankenstein or the Noblesse would be aware of this. Why would you fool everyone in your team and hide a Cerberus? Was she your ex-teammate? Or an ex-lover?”

“W-we’re neither of them. If I were to define our relationship, I’d say I personally owe her a debt.”

In spite of the eyes full of curses from both his sides, Takio began his story in a surprisingly peaceful manner, which ended in silence so absorbing nobody would have batted an eye even if the safehouse broke down in crumbles.

Takio was moral enough to feel guilty and break his lips loose from its stun, but Lunark got ahead of him.

“So she actually said she will cooperate if we demand?”

“...Yes.”

As much as she was bothered how he held his breath before his reply, Lunark did not pose a question at him.

‘A Union runaway just got caught by an ally of Union’s greatest fear who also happens to be wolfkind’s executive. Now she will have no choice but be an obedient dog in order to stay alive, although the question remains whether she can be useful to us.’

Not to mention Yuigi is part of 12th Elder’s forces – forces against Crombell. Lunark knew there were more than Crombell and his minions consisting the Union, so she anticipated Yuigi to be a guide in detecting them.

Settled with her decision, Lunark straightened her robe.

“Not that I’m happy with this situation, but I’m not the one who brought her. So I’d have no say in this situation.”

Takio’s and Yuigi’s heads snapped up as soon as she finished her sentence, as if they were electrocuted.

“And don’t forget – you officiated it. You WILL provide us help whenever we need it.”

“So you mean...”

“Prove it. Prove and we’ll see, though this is not really my concern. But instead... You shall be responsible for everything that is to take place from here on.”

Lunark peered at Takio, making sure he put it in his head that he should and shall be the leash for their newfound K9 unit, so that it would not bite off their heads in the future.

Or at least she hoped he would get it in his head, making herself looking as relaxed as possible as she turned on her heels.

*****

Her trip turned out to be much more shocking than expected – so shocking she forgot to her initial purpose – and she still did not have time to fully process it.

‘Should I tell him?’

Lunark, of course, already knew what to do.

‘This guy would completely purge every being that can potentially threaten his master, whether it is a Union agent or a harmless leaf falling from a tree. So even if his teammate is the cause...’

But that did not give her an excuse to play deaf on Frankenstein, and Lunark could feel her mind struggling to escape from her.

To her bewilderment, it was revealed she had worried for nothing.

“Forget it. You don’t have to tell me if you can’t. It’s all good, since you’re back.”

“...What?”

“I know you have a life. And reasons. And I’ve no right to pry them out of you every single time when I can, don’t you think?”

In reality, he was more than interested in her life and reasons; yet he had to shift himself away by force.

He had a good feeling that if he were to let his interest run wild, it will whip itself up as a lethal mental wave and never release him.

Frankenstein feigned leisure as he raised himself from his spot.

“You leaving?”

“Why would I stick around? I’ve no reason to. And you’d better be careful. The Union already trespassed twice; I wouldn’t be surprised to see them go for three and more.”

Frankenstein stepped towards the woods teeming with branches and fruits he could not identify, which brought a reminder for Lunark.

The direction he was taking would take him to the trees exclusively native to her land, notorious for roots protruding as if they were made to trip anyone who passes by and gigantic fruits that were prone to crush anyone’s skull upon walking beneath during the harvest season.

Lunark was about to tail Frankenstein, hurriedly calling after him, when her feet were caught in an especially curvy part of the root, giving her a mortal lesson that there is a reason why people say they should mind their own business.

With a brief cry of alarm, Lunark was about to fall flat on her nose, but luckily it was thwarted by arms sharp and strong.

Then she found herself basically plastered to Frankenstein’s chest.

Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.

That was so very not necessary.

Sorry for being pain in the ass until the last moment.

She could deliver none of the messages floating in her head, and Lunark’s eyes were furiously lost.

So she missed that Frankenstein was just as flabbergasted.

‘...What have I done?’

His body preceded his head, shoving him into a posture that would be impossible for people other than those in a relationship.

‘Relationship my rear end. What you’re doing is no different from groping.’

He should have withdrawn his arms and let go of her waist, but his nerves and joints refused to cooperate.

‘...At least I didn’t hit her in her lips. And that’s good.’

That was the last thing Frankenstein could think of, when he felt her breath ghosting over his own lips.

He was relieved and yet mystified, ticked off from his usual balance and usual celerity to his surroundings, and then a particularly humongous fruit skyrocketed downward and plunged into his head.

The fruit the size of a small melon mercilessly hammered the human’s head before it rolled down the slope, but the two noted nothing thanks to the calamity.

They could not even move for a while, enthralled by the perfume and silkiness of each other’s lips upon theirs.

(next chapter)

At last, ladies and gentlemen, Frankenstein and Lunark kissed for the very first time! XD Originally I did not plan on making them kiss; I was going to have Frankie stare at Lunark in mesmerization, and that was it (which is why the illustration for this chapter does not show them kissing). But while I was composing, I decided it’s about time for them to take a step beyond with their relationship, so here it is lol. Also, it’s about time to introduce more struggles and skirmishes in my fic; I hope you’d stay tuned for more!