#theres like a big cap of blood

[soggypotatoes]

back from the ER... bit scary, they had to stitch the wound up, there was fat in it.. Ive never cut that deep before, never thought I would.. like this is bad, I can't be doing this, I didn't think it'd get this far.. maybe I should start taking self harm seriously...? 😅

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

your transfem friend recommended a clinic to get your bottom surgery done at. she says its cheap, not gatekeepery, and the results are good, even if the doctors a little skeevy. youre at the address she gave you and are wondering how exactly your murder will go down. the door is on a third floor landing accessible only from a fire escape out of a back alley in the worst part of town youve ever seen. you knock three times and the door is answered by a ratty-looking woman with a severe slouch smoking something that doesnt smell like nicotine and doesnt smell like marijuana. her wavy blonde hair is unkempt. shes wearing an oversized grey hoodie that hasnt been washed in some time. you can identify blood on the left sleeve and vomit across much of her side, as well as other, more mysterious stains. you cant tell if shes wearing anything underneath the hoodie. the inside of the apartment - because it is, very clearly, her apartment - has a smell that you cant place but, if pressed, would probably call sweat, though you know that description is lacking something.

dr davis, you ask. she smiles wide, and her teeth are shockingly good for the state the rest of her is in. just call me riley, she says. never did get a degree.

she ushers you inside and sits you down on a sofa almost as stained as her hoodie. can i get you a drink she asks. a drink, you repeat, dazed. she says yeah. she says she has diet coke, beer, vodka, and coffee. says she used to keep tea around for a friend of a friend but she hasnt come by in a few years and the leaves are probably losing flavor by now. you say just waters fine. she shrugs and says your funeral. she comes back from the kitchen and sweeps some stuff off the coffee table. you see a stray scalpel, a roll of gauze bandages, a soda cup from taco bell, and various crumpled papers amongst the rubbish that she knocks aside before setting down your glass of water. she has a beer in her own hand and pops the cap off with her teeth, though the motion isnt quite how youre used to seeing people do it. she takes a big gulp before she keeps talking.

so what do you want your pussy to look like, she asks. you splutter a bit. she says you are the one who needed their bits redone right. you flush and say yeah thats me. she nods and says right so what do you want. you struggle to give a good answer and she starts asking questions. depth? width? color? clit size? you give your answers falteringly. she starts asking about labia. oh, you dont want dentata, do you, she says. that costs extra. you say you dont know what that means. she says dont worry about it. hey do you wanna get pregnant? you splutter again. not now she clarifies. well i can get you pregnant now too if you want that. doesnt even have to be human i think i have some horse sperm around here if you want. i just meant like ever in the future. you say you dont know. she says okay shell leave it out for now but come back if you ever want her to put the womb in. youre too stunned to reply.

she says oh do you want to keep your dick, i can do that. you say you thought they needed the tissue from the penis in order to make the vaginal lining. she laughs and takes another gulp from her beer. she says so is that a no. you say you guess you hadnt thought about it. she says she can reschedule if you need to think, no rush. you say no i guess i dont want it anymore. she nods and says come back if you change your mind.

she says ok, i think i can start operating now if youre ready. you say okay and she tells you to lie on your back and strip naked. you follow her instructions. youre still not sure if youre going to die today or not. she pulls on a big pair of rubber gloves. not latex medical gloves, they're yellow dishwashing gloves. she grabs a small jar of what looks like petroleum jelly off a shelf nearby. you cant help but notice that theres also lube, condoms, saran wrap, and a bottle of honey on the same shelf. you dont ask. she starts vigorously rubbing the jelly into your skin from the belly button down. everywhere it touches you instantly go numb. she keeps talking while she works. a lot of it is her telling stories about "her amy." you cant tell if amy is a sister, wife, or pet. she might be all three.

she reaches up to grab an empty syringe off the top shelf. when she stretches you notice shes naked under the hoodie. you look away bashfully. she doesnt seem to notice.

she fills the syringe with liquid from a bucket in the closet. the liquid is neon green. she injects it into your inner upper thigh. you are now certain you're going to die today, but you cannot make a break for it with your legs numbed, so you wait.

she says okay this is the part where a lot of people get squeamish so look away if you think you might get sick. she pulls out a set of knives. some of them look like dentistry tools, some of them are medical scalpels, and some of them are kitchen knives. you look away. she starts humming to herself while she works. the tune is pop goes the weasel.

hey, she calls out to you from between your legs, how many nerves do you want in your clit? you say uh i dont know, whats a normal amount. she says about ten thousand give or take two thousand in either direction. you say ten thousand sounds fine. she doesnt respond, just goes back to humming. its a different tune. shes humming old macdonald now.

she gets up a couple times to grab new drinks. you say should you be drinking during an operation? she says dont worry i know what im doing. besides i never took the hippocratic oath. she laughs at that, the sound somewhere between a giggle and a cackle. you don't think its that funny. she resumes her work.

this time shes humming the alphabet song. you ask how old are you anyway? she says somewhere between 12 and 47. then she laughs again. you decide to stop asking questions.

four beers, two diet cokes, three unidentifiable cigarettes, and five hours later, she stands up and announces shes done. she wipes her brow without taking the glove off, smearing unidentifiable bodily fluids across her forehead. she jabs another syringe into your other thigh and the feeling returns to your lower body. you're a little sore but other than that you feel great. she wheels over a full length mirror and tells you to take a look. its perfect. youre everything youve ever dreamed you would be. you cant describe how euphoric it feels to see a vagina, your vagina, between your legs. you thank her tearfully. she smiles awkwardly. of course, shes saying.

how much do i owe you you ask. she shrugs. iunno, a hundred bucks? im not in it for the money. you pay her the hundred bucks and leave quickly. you barely remember to get dressed again before heading out. you have never seen Riley again.

[eiraeths]

do you guys want some of my cod 141 headcanons you’re getting them anyways

SOAP

-puts stuff in his mouth a lot to hold it when he runs out of hands (this includes when he’s making explosives, it stresses everyone out)

-gets cute aggression and bites people

-will also bite in a fight

-has bits and pieces of rubble from explosions that he thought looked pretty

-is feral, like he takes a hit to the face during a spar and grins with blood trickling into his mouth

-had a graffiti phase as a teen that never fully left and because of it he writes in all capital letters. this is great when they need something written down where no one can read it. (the 141 probably had a meeting where they went over how to read his handwriting)

-has dreams so realistic he wakes up confused wondering if it was a memory he forgot about even if it didn’t make sense

-military grade anger issues

-never fully grew out of his punk phase

-his childhood room was full of road signs and traffic cones

-is actually a hardass when it comes to training recruits (i think the proper term for privates in the sas is troopers but im calling them recruits cause that seems to be the term everyone uses)(everyone thought his bright attitude meant that he’s laid back and easygoing. no. he’s not. yall ever seen those videos of drill sergeants coming up with the most creative insults? thats him)

-randomly says “i am normal and can be trusted around military grade weapons”

-his journal from the og games is a must in the remaster sorry i don’t make the rules

GHOST

-can play guitar super fucking well, im talking full on fingerstyle ballads

-major staring problem, if he doesn’t want to talk to someone he’ll stare until they go away. sometimes stares at people for no reason. also stares when he wants something. he’s always watching.

-would be interested in getting into blacksmithing if he didn’t grow up poor and hates spending money on himself that isn’t out of necessity (seriously you need like 30k to start a forge)

-can and will obsess over damascus patterns in blades (i feel like his favorite pattern would be fish bone or those really complicated mosaic patterns. he gets soap into it too by showing him fireball patterns)

-never grew out of echolalia and because of this is amazing at mimicking noises (he mimicks smoke alarm battery low noises and phone chimes to troll people sometimes.)

-road rage, but its quiet fuming comments that make you grip the oh shit handle for dear life (“you better turn off your fucking highbeams or i can’t be blamed for the head on collision that’s about to happen”)(no one can tell if he’s serious or not)

-hates tin foil, hearing it or touching it makes him clench his jaw because it feels like he can feel it in his teeth

-secret sweet tooth, but it comes and goes. sometimes he’s disgusted by anything sweeter than white bread and other times he can fuck up an entire box of lil debbie cakes

-can hand sew efficiently and fast as fuck

-his favorite type of blanket is a heavy quilt

GAZ

-is aggressively hydrated and is one of those people who carry around those big 128 oz water bottles

-gets competitive over karaoke (it took him months to convince everyone to join and he only got the idea after finding out soap wanted to be in a band as a teen and that he spent days learning how to properly vocal fry)

-says WOO! when he’s super fucking excited (will throw his arms up as well if soap is around because the two of them are an echo chamber of emotion)(the WOO! might actually be canon theres a voice line in warzone)

-probably the most up to date on modern fashion trends (get this man a long cashmere coat he deserves it)

-he does own a bedazzled cap he found at a gas station though (it’s hideous)

-elaborate skin care routine (he’s conned everyone to have some sort of routine. especially ghost. he got so concerned when it hit him that ghost was always wearing the eyeblack)

PRICE

-listens to black label society (i won’t budge on this its not even a head canon to me anymore its fact it was revealed to me in a dream)

-plays solitaire (he’s a very high level and it took him less than a year to get there. no one knows where he found the time to play for that long)

-drives a manual and shames people who don’t know how to work a stick

-literature nerd (im talking all the classics and philosophy books this man can get his hands on)

-discovered tennessee moonshine and has thought about it ever since

-smacks people on the back of the head when they’re doing something stupid

-if anyone makes a negative comment on his facial hair he gives them the dirtiest side eye

GEN/MULTI

-gaz and soap carry those big contractor waterproof sharpies and leave gaz was here or soap was here everywhere they go (this stemmed from soap’s graffiti phase and gaz turned it into a competition. they once got into a competition on who could leave the most signs until price called them muppets and confiscated their sharpies)

-ghost put soap in air jail once, it was very effective

-gaz and soap go to the gym together and take photos in the mirrors after they’re done (somewhere there’s a photo of the time they got ghost to join and they even got him to flex an arm)

-ghost and soap are professional assholes to each other.

-none of the 141 are allowed play card games and gamble with each other because they’re all dirty charlatans

-price tried to stop smoking only once and carried around gum and peppermints. ghost stole the peppermints and soap wouldn’t stop asking for gum

-gaz and ghost are the only ones who really try to adhere to the lights out rule. price and soap can be seen drinking coffee throughout the day

-all of them can hold a grudge for life

-ghost clears his throat loudly when any of them smoke by him. or stares. depends on the say

-if any of the smokers see another outside smoking and decides to join them it turns into a drawn out conversation about the most mundane topics

-the 141 can have full conversations of pure sarcasm nons

[aizawas-dryeye]

🍉!!please read if ur curious about more ways to help those in gaza!!🍉

im taking inspiration from mutuals and those i follow to participate in @ficsforgaza please go follow them and read more about their organization and PLEASE spread it

ill be doing the wip sponsorship AND taking requests, all u have to do is send me a screenshot proving u donated to any fundraiser supporting the palestinian people (not directly to me) and make sure to let me know which wip to add to, or whatever request u may have

for every US dollar, ill write 100(ish) words, and cap it off at 1000-2000 words

theres WAY more information on ficsforgaza’s blog so please please follow them to stay up to date on gaza

WIPS

(** = NSFW ^^ = DARK CONTENT)

honey don’t feed me i will come back (astarion)**

tags: smut, reader has a vagina but no pronouns, dom!astarion, blood drinking, biting, penetrative sex, dirty talk, name calling (dear, darling, love, pet, sweet)

summary: astarion invites (begs) you to come to his tent for a little fun

untitled (astarion)**

tags: ascended!astarion, mean!astarion, yandere!astarion, gn!reader, vampire!reader, biting, blood drinking, ANGST BITCH LIKE WOW, unrequited love, smut, name calling (love, whelp, darling, bitch), degradation

summary: your fate is simple: to be utterly possessed, controlled, and used by your reborn lover

eden (halsin)**

tags: gn!reader, mating season, abo adjacent, ruts, knotting, vague description of genitals, loss of virginity, penetrative sex, so much cum, size difference, halsin big, possessiveness, breeding

summary: losing your virginity to halsin

break me, bite me (toji fushiguro)^^

tags: DEAD DOVE, reader has a vagina but no pronouns mentioned, noncon/rape, knotting, lowkey hunting, blood, bunny!reader, wolf!toji, he hits u like once, size kink, dirty talk

summary: being lost in the woods is dangerous business, especially for such a tiny bunny. let the hunt begin

nursing on a poison (leon kennedy)**

tags: reader has a vagina but no pronouns mentioned, vendetta!leon, erectile dysfunction, lowkey mediocre sex, riding, masturbation (p and v), pls he is so annoying and awful, toxic!leon, he thinks about smacking you, hair pulling, sadism, alcoholism

summary: whiskey dick is a real thing and leon is proof, annoyingly so

mirror mirror (shouta aizawa)**

tags: reader has a vagina but no pronouns mentioned, fingering, dirty talk, mirrors, pet names (baby, honey) teasing, no sex

summary: you made the mistake of insulting yourself in front of your boyfriend

lipstick lullaby (gojo satoru)**

tags: f!reader, sub!gojo, sleepy sex, slight somnophilia but not really, desperate bby gojo, "just the tip", unprotected sex, pet names (baby, babe, good girl), m mommy kink

summary: gojo is spoiled beyond words, but you’re to blame. you just can’t say no to your baby

glint (leon kennedy)^^

tags: DEAD DOVE, noncon/rape, mentions of child abuse, good ol catholic guilt (i was raised baptist so please be patient lmao), he covers ur head with a pillow, crying

summary: pt 2 of shiny

stuck on a little hot mess (nanami kento)**

tags: reader has a vagina but no pronouns, drinking, cheating, nanami is married with kids lmao, could be considered dubcon bc hes ur boss and also alcohol, age gap, blowjob, he calls u kid, GUILT, reader is a bitch, he fucks u in the guest bedroom

summary: nanami swears you were sent by the devil himself

REQUESTS

i dont have many rules for requesting fics but my hard no’s are:

• scat

• feeding

• pregnancy (does not include breeding)

• minor aged characters

• graphic gore/death

i also write for several fandoms such as:

• resident evil (pretty much only leon oof)

• jujutsu kaisen

• baldurs gate 3

• haikyuu

• my hero academia

• attack on titan

• marvel

• supernatural

• the umbrella academy

again please go to @ficsforgaza to learn more and consider donating if u can and ill write pretty much whatever u want! it doesnt just have to be x reader either, i also do ships! (excluding leon)

thank u so much for reading all this

🍉!!FREE PALESTINE!!🍉

[lostgreekgod]

sinner's damnation: part 1

a/n: its been SO LONG. and ik I said I wont probably write anymore, but technically I wrote this like a year ago and we've only now come to finishing it. so he's my first collab and probably my last loki fanfic with my best big bro @theaudacitytowrite 😗💞

pairing: loki x f!reader, angst with some fluff in nex's part hehe

warnings: human trafficking, blood, gore, swearing. lmk if theres anything else

link to part 2

words: 4.8k (LMAO sorry)

taglist: @theaudacitytowrite @gaitwae @naterson @queenjosielaufeyson @1marvelnerd3000 @dmltnlvr

Tony Stark had passed an unnecessary comment aimed at him. Again. Loki did what he usually did in response to that. He got up and left.

A movie night meant being quiet and paying attention to said movie. But obviously, no one followed that rule. Thor had forced Loki into yet another weekend Avenger bonding time, ignorant of his protests, and the God had yet again been "teased" by none other than the billionaire. One thing Midgardians found hard to understand was the fact that no matter how inexpressive someone was, they still had feelings. Feelings that the so-called 'virtuous' Avengers entirely made a point of ignoring.

Another thing - whatever Stark did? It wasn't plain and simple teasing. It was a sly little tactic for their glorious pastime. Bored? Then taunt Loki. Try eliciting a reaction. Did his eyebrow twitch? Did he grit his jaw? Then congratulations! You've successfully won the game of tease-Loki-until-his-face-twitches.

Loki was currently packing up, fuming over the conversation he had just overheard. He was going to leave.

"Don't you think your brother might be... how do I put this? A little too uptight?" Loki heard Stark's voice from the corridors. It had been an hour since he had gotten up and walked away from the stupid movie the Avengers were watching, and he had returned to the kitchen to get his nightly cup of tea. Thor and Stark seemed unaware of his presence as they spoke about him in hushed voices.

"Nonsense," Thor boomed, although he knew he was supposed to be whispering. But obviously, he saw no need for it. He didn't care if Loki heard him. "Loki doesn't care about what you think of him. Hel, he doesn't care what anyone thinks of him. He'll be fine."

Loki grimaced. Thor was right. He didn't care what these measly Midgardians thought of him, right? He shouldn't. Then why was he so affected? Why did it anger him so much, the fact that the stupid metal man could barely contain himself without passing a rude comment at him every time?

"He lives up to his name, Anthony. He's cold-hearted, a snake. He proved that when he stabbed me at like, 8 years old."

Loki’s stomach somersaulted. Did his older brother really think of him in such a derogatory manner? He stepped closer to the wall, trying to catch the rest of their conversation.

"I keep telling Cap we can't trust him. What's worse, Capsicle knows it. Yet he's here, with us like New York never happened," Tony continued, braver than before now that Thor had participated in dissing Loki. "It won’t take long before he betrays us. Again."

Now Loki flinched. Sure, he might have been planning another escapade, but betrayal? Where would he go? Asgard? There was no one for him there. His mother's death had made that very clear. Who would he lead? He did not have an army of Chitauri to serve him this time. He didn't have anybody - no family, no army, no friends. He thought he had Thor to a certain extent but once again, he was wrong. He was alone, and he would remain alone no matter where he went. Hands shaking, he raced to his room, his cup of tea forgotten. He didn't care if his brother could hear him.

Loki wasn't one for spontaneous decisions. He was a planner. An organizer. He hated when he didn't have things planned out meticulously, but right now that was the last thing on his mind. He was leaving. He didn't know where he would go, but it was better than being stuck with people who wished for his absence. He shoved his mother's spell books into a duffel bag as he tugged on the green comforter on his bed. He knew he could conjure one with his seidr anytime, but something told him to take it along - so he did. His eyes landed on a box of his favourite assorted tea bags. Before he could think, he grabbed it. He didn't have anything else left for him in the Avenger compound. He noticed the framed picture of Thor and him on his dresser. Thor was laughing heartily as Loki scowled at him - but he remembered the warmth he felt in his chest. The love he had for his brother. The memory quickly faded when the earlier conversation replayed in his mind. Cold-hearted. Snake.

He zipped up the bag harshly and dashed out of his room. It was only a matter of time until FRIDAY notified the Avengers of his absence. He headed towards the basement, his hands still trembling. He grabbed a set of keys and clicked the button on it. When he first ended up being among the Avengers, he was sent on a mission along with Natasha Romanoff and Sam Wilson. He had watched how Romanoff had handled the automobile they rode in, and by the time the mission was over, he kind of had it figured out. He still had questions about the little stick on the side - how they moved it whenever the terrain changed - but he was sure he could handle it. He noticed a sleek black car that had blinked its lights in response and moved towards it. Shoving his bag in, he started the car. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he braced himself. Thor didn't deserve Loki's companionship.

"Loki!" his eyes shot open when he heard his brother's voice. Had they realized it already? He glanced in the mirror to see Thor running towards him. "What are you doing?" he yelled, his face perplexed.

Loki stepped on the accelerator, the car immediately zooming out of the parking. He glanced back at Thor using the rear-view mirror, only to see a look of betrayal on his features. His heart stung. How dare he? How dare he assume such a look when he spoke so badly of his own brother just a few minutes ago as if nothing ever happened?

The car shot out of the compound, Loki still manoeuvring it rather perfectly despite the slippery roads. He was proud of himself for being able to learn well, just from observation. That was all he had. His mind, his heart, and himself.

"Brother!" Thor's voice boomed from somewhere behind the car. Of course. Loki was no match for Mjolnir. Thor simply shot his hammer into the air, and hurray! Here he was. Loki looked out of his window to see Thor flying next to him through the ice-cold winter night, his face still donning the innocent look of betrayal. Loki felt his blood heat up in anger.

"Leave, Thor. I have nothing to say to you," Loki said, glaring at him. It was rather late in the night, and only a few vehicles were travelling on the road they were on. He was thankful for that. The speed he was going on wasn't exactly safe for a road filled with Midgardians.

"Why, brother?" Thor yelled, his hand grabbing onto the car so he could keep flying. Loki wondered how Thor felt at the moment. Did he even realize how insulting he had sounded? Did he regret talking behind his back? Did he feel even an ounce of remorse?

"You know why, Thor. I am cold-hearted. A snake." Loki sneered the last few words out, his anger riling up when the look of recognition took over Thor.

"Brother-"

"No," Loki said, interrupting whatever feeble excuse Thor was coming up with. He summoned the energy of his seidr, the green smoke covering the entire car. With a last look at Thor's regretful face, he magicked himself to a different location. He had no idea where he was, but Thor wasn't around anymore. He looked around as he slowed the car, the tall snow-covered trees against the full moon sky allowing a sort of melancholy in the air. He noticed a few snowy hills, and how the temperature was even cooler than where he was just a few minutes ago. Loki breathed deeply, the cool, fresh air letting his muscles loosen up, his ever-buzzing mind stilling for a moment. He flinched when the screen on the console began to make an irritating ringing sound.

Loki pressed on the screen haphazardly, only to freeze up when he heard Tony's voice.

"What the fuck--"

"Let me speak to him," Thor's voice butted in, as grim as ever. Loki clenched the steering wheel harder. Thor did not have any right to be mad at Loki. He didn't.

"Brother?" Thor called, waiting for him to respond. Loki contemplated cancelling the call. As his hand hovered over the 'end' button, Thor's voice rang again.

"Loki, please don't end the call," it was as if Thor knew what Loki would do. When had he become so predictable? That's right. When he started to put down his guard around the other Avengers. But what did that get him? An accusation of betrayal.

"Come back, brother. What do you think you can accomplish by doing this?" Loki inhaled sharply, his shock making him slightly woozy. No apology. Thor knew exactly why Loki had fled. Yet, he did not have it in him to apologize.

"Answer the question, Reindeer Games. We can track you anyway. You either get back here of your own free will, or we come to find you and take you back as a prisoner. Your choice." Loki would have laughed at Tony's empty threat if he wasn't so mad at Thor. Stark was a terrible liar.

"You aren't tracking me, metal man," he said, surprised at how cool his voice sounded. "My seidr masks the radio waves. My location is well uncharted to your measly technology," he sneered, wishing he could see how Tony's face would have pinked in embarrassment.  

"Loki," Thor chided again, almost hesitating. "Mother would be disappointed in you for running away," he whispered, and all the air left Loki's lungs. He could hear the rush of blood in his ears.

"How dare you," he spat, his voice a dark whisper. He hadn't sounded like this since New York. Since his mind was being controlled. "How dare you speak of Mother this way," he growled, his teeth gritting. His hands had gone cold. He stepped harder on the accelerator, not caring about the snow-covered bushes and muddy grass patches he was running the car into.

"Loki. Listen to-"

"Mother would be disappointed in you, Thor. Not me," he interrupted him again, pausing to swallow the large lump in his throat. "You're the one belittling—no, degrading his own brother. Not me." Loki's knuckles had started to turn white. He could barely see where he was going now. It seemed like a hill of sorts, but all there was were a few lone trees and a lot of green shrubs and grass.

“Guys.” Tony interrupted all of a sudden, “We need to calm down for a moment.”

“Stay out of it!” Loki snarled at Tony. He couldn’t understand Tony’s sudden urge to be the peacemaker when he was the one enabling it in the first place. Why was he suddenly so interested in mediating the situation?

“Just hear me out Loki, ok?” Tony’s change of mind and tone made Loki even warier. Stark wasn’t one to extinguish a fight, he was usually the one pouring gas into it so it could explode. The only feasible explanation Loki could think of was that Stark was getting nervous. Nervous about how the others Avengers and the general public would react once it came out that the Monster had escaped the tower. Tony surely tried to keep the damage as small as possible. And he surely wanted to try to stand in the best possible light once the news outlets got wind of it.

“Then go on, Stark,” Loki growled sharply. He had no interest in being painted as the uncooperative one who wouldn’t try to find an amicable solution to their dispute.

“We’re all at fault here.” Tony began sanctimoniously.

 “Are we?” Loki scoffed sarcastically.

“My point is, maybe all of us should calm down first before we say something we cannot take back again, ok?” Tony took it as silent approval as neither of the gods answered, “How about Loki takes a few days off? I have some safe houses around town, some near the beach, some in the valley and even some in the mountains. I’ll send you the addresses and you can choose where you want to stay. As far as I know, you haven’t had a proper vacation since you joined us, have you?”

“And I won’t be generously “punished” when I decide to return?” Loki inquired, sneering out the sentence. He was sick of them. He was sick of how high they thought of themselves as if they had jurisdiction over what Loki’s abilities were.

“We will find a solution.” Tony deflected.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ...despite stealing my car.” Tony huffed annoyed.

“I borrowed it.” Loki retorted.

“Sure, call it what you like.” Tony began to grow impatient, “Do we have a deal now or not?”

Loki pondered over his options one last time before nodding.

“I’m okay with this.” he approved, “Under one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You will not contact me. Not at all. I will have my time to think about everything and I won’t be disturbed.” Loki demanded, “I have done nothing wrong in the entirety of my stay, quite the contrary. I deserve a basic sense of trust.”

“Tony, we can’t support such-” Thor tried to chime in.

“Okay, Reindeer Games. But you’ll promise to come back.” Tony agreed.

 “Promise.” With that Loki hung up and slowed the car. He was getting exhausted using his seidr. He needed to conserve his energy. Just as his finger left the 'end call' button, he heard a rustle in the trees. His head snapped to the sound. He saw a flash of something - someone- wide eyes, irises illuminated by the car's headlights - and before he could comprehend what was happening, he had swerved his car right into the person, the car coming to a halt with screeching breaks just a little too late.

----

You had opened your eyes to a ceiling made of clay tiles. Your head was throbbing, your body aching from the hard ground you had been laid on. Where were you? Your surroundings were so dark, you had to squint to see around. Your blood ran cold when last night's events came rushing back to you.

You were just returning home late from work, shivering as the freezing air found its way under our thick coat. You had already walked more than half of your twenty-minute walk, your cheeks rosy from the cold when a stranger had asked for directions. A handsome man around your age with a dazzling smile on his face. He was charming, apologizing for his interruption of your stroll this late as he asked where to find the nearest pharmacy. He had a huge map in his hands, struggling to keep it upright as he motioned on the map. You joked with him about his ancient approach and asked if he didn’t own a smartphone, to which he simply shook his head apologetically.

“I’m Jack, by the way.” he had extended his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N.” you shook his hand hesitantly.

Despite the at-first queasy feeling in your stomach you decided to help him out. You had been raised to be polite, so it was the least you could do to help a stranger in despair. You studied his map, trying to locate where you were on the map. You scrunched your eyebrows in concentration… then in confusion. The map wasn’t from here but before you could open your mouth to inform him about it, he stepped uncomfortably close, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes wandered up from the map to his suddenly expressionless face. Your stomach dropped and you knew something was going on but before you could even pull out the pepper spray you carried with you for exactly a situation like this, something cold pressed against your ribs. Horrified you glanced down to see the dim light of the street lantern reflecting on the barrel of a gun.

"Make a squeak, and I shoot," he said, pressing the gun further into your coat.

"Move!" he snarled when you didn’t move, his eyes darted all around the streets, jittery; as if someone could catch him in the act even though the streets were empty.

"Okay, okay!" you shook yourself out of your frozen state, wobbly taking a few steps back, the gun never losing its pressure on your ribs.

"Turn around and get going," he barked, gesturing to a nearby van with his gun.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes. You cursed yourself for not trusting your intuition. You should’ve never stopped in the first place.

"Shut up!" he spat, his crazed gaze landing on you, “One more question, and you won’t ask another in your life.”

That was enough to let you know to shut up. The tears were falling free now. He grabbed the back of your collar and pressed the gun to your back. He pushed you out towards the car, his body covering your back when a car suddenly drove into the street.

"Wipe those fucking tears and look normal, girl, or you won't live to see another day," he whispered in your ear. Immediately palming your face haphazardly, you dried them. Pasting a smile on your face, you folded your arms against your chest and walked down the sidewalk. To the people in the car watching you, it would seem like you and your lover were heading somewhere, his embrace on you as protective as ever. They would probably 'aw' at you and wish they could have the same for themselves. But you knew better.

"Get in the car," he said, pushing you to it. The car had vanished into the next street, the road empty again, most of the lights in the flats turned off. No one to spot you. No one to ask for help. Hands shaking, you felt for the handle. You noticed how he was standing in the way of the door. Your heart welled up in hope when your brain sputtered out a plan - you could slam the door into him in the pretence of opening it and run away, as fast as possible. You snuck a glance at him, regarding that although he had his gun at you, he was still looking around in the same frazzled way. Now or never. You braced yourself before opening the door with force and slamming it into his torso. The gun fell out of his hand as he lost his balance. You didn't waste a moment. You took off immediately, darting around the other cars that were parked around. You didn't dare to look back. You heard a shot go behind you and cowered immediately, praying to whoever that this will be over soon. That you will be safe. Just as you turned around the sidewalk to head to your apartment, you crashed right into something. Someone. You fell on your backside, your eyesight going blurry for a second. You glanced up to see him again, gun pressing into your skull.

"Shortcut," he snickered triumphantly, "You can run from me but don’t think for a second you could escape.”

"What do you want from me?!” you sobbed loud, “I don’t even know you!”

"Shut up, bitch." he kicked you harshly into the side, the pain shooting into your side, robbing your air. Before you could say anything, he flipped the gun, bringing it down hard on the side of your head. All you saw next was darkness.

And then you woke up here. Gasping, you registered your surroundings - all walls, no windows. 1 door. Where was he? You ignored the pang of pain going up the side of your head as you turned around. You listened closely, trying to hear for his presence. Nothing. You were alone, in a dark empty place in the middle of nowhere.

Shuddering, you got up and reached the door. Before you could try to jimmy the door open, you heard his voice on the other side. Your whole being froze.

"Twenty grand," you heard him say, your heart in your throat. Had he heard you? Hands shaking, you inched closer, ear against the thin wood. "I won't take any less than that for the bitch, she's a real piece of work." Now that was rude. He didn’t even know you and all you had done was be kind to him. Granted, you had slammed the door into his face but solely out of self-defence.

Some rustling from the outside had you on guard again - you scurried away from the door, arming yourself with nothing but your fists. You waited. Nothing. Stepping towards the door again, you realized that the steps were fading away. He was going away from the cottage. Gasping in relief, you tried to swallow down the fresh tears from ebbing out. You needed a plan. Fast.

"Okay, I can do this. Think. Think," you whispered to yourself, wishing your head wouldn’t be throbbing as much as it did. A head injury was not something anyone should look forward to. You felt for the walls, realizing that they were made of bamboo wood. Patting around, you wondered if you could look for a weak spot in the wood, so you could kick your way out. You sank to the ground, pushing against the wood hurriedly. When your hand landed on one creaky piece, your hope skyrocketed. Maybe you could get out of this. You kicked against it, raising yourself to push it with your hand. Just as you got onto your knees and placed your hands on the wood, you slipped, nicking your palm against something sharp. You hissed, your other hand coming to nurse the wound immediately. It was something sharp... a nail. Perfect, you thought. Assuming the worst, you could at least protect yourself. You took off the fancy dress shirt you were wearing, thankful that you had worn jeans. You wrapped your injured hand with it and felt for the nail again. You held onto it tightly, the flimsy cloth giving you some sort of cushioning against the rusty nail. You tugged hard, your breathing coming in frenzied bursts. You froze immediately when you heard a rustle. Was he back?

Panicking, you shifted positions, using your feet to support you against the wall as you pulled. The rustling was getting closer. He was back. You tugged harder and harder, the repressed tears flowing free now, your wounds aching -

You fell back as the nail finally popped out. Scrambling, you hid against the wall adjacent to the door, positioning yourself to attack with the nail. Just as you forced yourself to collect your bearings, the door creaked open.

"Oh, sweetheart? You up yet?" he teased, his voice mocking as he approached your cowering form.

You lunged at him, your throat erupting in a broken war cry, impaling his shoulder. He roared in pain, his hand darting back to push you away. You reared back as all the air left your lungs. He fell to his knees, gasping, nursing his wound. You realized you had pulled the nail along with you when you lost balance. You pointed it at him and stood up, your legs shaking. You kicked him as hard as you could, eliciting a pained groan from him. He fell on his back, whimpering lightly. Still pointing the nail at him, you fumbled against the door, pushing it open and running out. You were finally free. All you had to do was find someone who could help you leave wherever you had been taken to.

As you stepped outside the cottage the merciless cold encircled you, your breath becoming visible in foggy puffs. Only now you realised that your coat was missing. You began to shiver as you hurried through the thick bushes, scrapping your arms at thorns. But there was no time of acknowledging everything that was hurting right now. You had to concentrate on running, it was vital.

After not even a few minutes of running, you heard him again. Your eyes widened as you crouched behind a tree, gasping for air. He was relentless. Couldn’t he just give up? Were you really that valuable? Sure, you made the perfect victim. Living alone in a big city, with no close friends or family around. Had that man spied on you? Studied your days and waited for the perfect moment to overpower you? You shuddered. You didn’t want to follow your line of thought further. At least not now.

Groaning, you hurried onwards, pushing yourself to run faster, worrying about how quickly the sky was darkening. You needed to find help, and fast.

You heard a sudden noise, a growl. You listened closer, hoping it wasn't a wild animal. Please don't make this worse, you prayed. You almost yelled in relief when you realized it was the rumbling sound of a car. You shot up, running towards the sound of tires against rough terrain.

"Oh, baby girl? Where are you? Get back here, you bitch!" you heard him yell, only leading you to pump your legs faster. Your hand was on fire, hurting from the cut you had gotten earlier. The blood pumping uncomfortably in your veins from running but you had no choice. You got to a pathway, dense trees suddenly clearing up, only short bushes and shrubs around you. You looked around, still listening to the car that was closing up on you. You waved at it, the headlights almost blinding you - but you could never be happier.

"Where are you, you little bitch?" your hunter growled.

Hurry, hurry. Please.

You glanced around, hoping he didn't spot you yet. You still listened as the rumbling got closer. The car was slowing down but not quickly enough. That's when you realized you had turned around to face the speeding vehicle too late. Before you could do anything, it ran right into you, the edge of the automobile pushing you off your feet, heaving all of the air right out of you. You gasped, your head once again throbbing from hitting the ground, hard. Your eyesight blurred, another lump forming in your throat. So this was the end. Just get it over with, you thought.

You shivered when you saw a silhouette above you, dark and tall. But it wasn't him. He was shorter, but this guy? His stance, the way he carried himself was itself different. It radiated power. Not the kind that forced people to cover, but the kind of power you would want to respect.

"Help," you gasped quietly, your eyesight swimming. You could barely see anything now. All that you could register in your mind was the darkness that was taking over it.

---

“Oh, dear. Oh, Hel. Please don't be dead. Not another one on my conscience.” Loki kneeled next to you, his hands shaking. “Please, please, please.” He placed his fingers on your neck, exhaling in relief when he felt a faint heartbeat.

'Help,' you had whispered to him. His eyes scanned your face, only now registering the gash on your head. As he observed your apparent lifeless form further, he noticed your unsuitable clothing for this season. What had happened to you?

He seemed to set himself on a decision. Thor really thought his own brother would be cold-blooded? No, Loki was far from that. He was going to help you.

His hand moved to the wound as he shut his eyes. Just as he summoned some of his green energy, he heard... a gunshot. Loki's eyes shot open, immediately scanning his surroundings. You had said, 'help'. Was it because someone was chasing you? Loki pondered over that for a moment before another gunshot went off. He scrambled to his feet quickly and gathered your limp body into his arms, gently placing you on the back seat of his car. He was not going to let anything hurt you.

"Where the fuck are you, you whore?" a voice called out, as menacing as ever.

Aha, so there was the 'someone' you were running from. You were just a random Midgardian - Loki didn't know you. But when someone referred to you in such a derogatory way, he couldn't help his anger from riling up. He would have gone after the man, but he had more pressing issues at the moment. He had to take you to a place where he could help you without any disturbances.

link to part 2

[crows-heart]

i know this is abrupt and wild but GENLOSS?? I NEED TO TALK ABT THIS

CW GENLOSS SPOILERS, MENTIONS OF DEATH, BIG INFODUMP TIME (most if not all of this is without proper spelling or grammar, and in caps :)

(for the ppl who followed me for wh content IM SORRY VERY SORRY IVE BEEN SICK AND OVERWORKED IM GOIJGNTO WORK ON IT SOON) (ALSO ILL PROBAVLY MAYBE WEITE GENLOSS STUFF??)

FIRST OFF, LOVED THE EPISODES

the acting was amazing, especially ranboos seeing as in the first episode they literally got injured bc of a wire, AND THE FINAL SCENE?? had me crying bro i did not expect my streamer to be begging for death!! nikis crying in episode two was also MARVELOUS

ALSO HE HAD A CHANCE TO LIVE WHEN I FOUND OUT (the behind the scenes gl account said that there was an actual live option!) GUT ABSOLUTELY WRENCHING (like patient charlie!! too soon?)

WHEN THE VOTE ENEED AND THE BOX CLOSED, THEY SIDNT DIE IMMEDIATELY. YOU CAN SEE THEM FUCKING TWITCH JUST A BIT AND SECONDS LATER THEY GO LIMP

seeing him crying for us to let him live, then to let him die, and the pure fucking emotions you can hear in their voice AND THAT YOU CAN SEE

the point in episode two when sneeg FIGURED OUT WHAG WAS HAPPENEINF AND ALMOST ESCAPED JSUT TO BECOME PART OF THR MACHINE MY JAW WAS ON. THE. FLOOR. AND WHEN NIKI DIED? THEN VINNY(??) DIED?? THEN IT WAS ETHAN (i believe that was the first blood that’s wasn’t a “glitch”!! AND ENDING IT WITH SNEEG AND AUSTIN GETTING CRUSHED

I DID NOT TRUST THE HUTCH GUY (?? the hacker dude??) THE WAY THEY REFUSED TO LET RANBOO JUST ESCAPE AND THEN WAS ALL LIKE “oh they’re safe!! yeah the weird spaghetti ennard wire monster that is actively trying to get you won’t!! and neither will the security “people” who are just standing there!! why are you shutting the door you’re fine!!” PLUS THEY REFUSED TO ANSWER ANY OF RANBOOS WUESTIONS ABT STUFF LIKE HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN HERE YADADA

RANBOO WAS TAPPING SOS IN BOTH EPISODE ONE AND TWO (AT LEAST ONCE FROM WHAT IVE SEEN)

IN EPISODE 1 WHEN HE WAS LAYING DOWN ON THE COUCH (i believe from intermission?) THEY WERE TAPPING IT ON THE SIDE OF THE COUCH

ALSO, IN EPISODE 2 IN THE FASHION ROOM WHEN I THINK THEY WERE TURNED AROUND FOR THE SECOND TIME, HES STANDING NEXT TO ETHAN NAD THEYRE ZONING OUT TAPPING IT, THEN THEIR HAND STOPS HIM. ???

i truly believe that the bow from the exit to reveal (whom we thought was dead) hutch was cinematic. absolutely disgusting to know that i was right abt my feeling abt them, but it was still a great twist.

I HAVE NOT TALKED MUCH ABT EPISODE ONE OH

the painting? that’s in charlies room?? he’s able to put his fingers together, unlike the demon charlie earlier when ranboo was making food. my thought was that it was charlie before he got turned into the slime demon, but now idk what to make of it

CHARLIE WOKE UP IN A NEW BUGSTTI!!

I LOVE THAT DEMON CHARLIE WAS STILL ALIVE IN THE RAG THE ENTIRE TIME HE JUST DIDNT SAY A WORD

ALSORHAY IT WAS SPECIFICALLY CHRISTIAN HELL

WHENEVER RANBOO BROKE THE FOURTH WALL I WOULD JS STARE AT HIM ONCE I WAVED I WAS JS LIKE “hello!! i am not trying to murder you!!”

ALSO THIS ONE IMAGE FROM THE TEASER STUFF

LOOK FAMILIAR??

AFTER I WATCHED IT I LOOKED AT THIS SCENE AND WAS JUST LIKE "this is very familiar. OH WAIT-"

THERES NOT MUCH ELSE FOR ME TO SAY (if there is i’ll make another post :) EXECPT FOR RANBOO

IF YOU ARE IN FACT, READING THIS (if so, hello :) but also) SCREW YOU /j AND THANK YOU FOR CREATING THIS MASTERPIECE I CANNOT WAIT FOR MORE ABT GENLOSS (i can guarantee you it’s becoming a new hyperfixstion ppls help me)

anyways i have no more slime i mean slime i mean slime i mean slime i mean slime i mean slime i mean slime-

[everyday-is-brighter-with-you]

HEY ITS ME PIPIS OBLITERATOR

( plaintext : Hey its me pipis obliterator )

Kills u cutely!!!!! eahahaEAHAHAHE *geegle* My pipis children will feed on ur TERROR and PAIN

(Plaintext: Kills u cutely!!!!! eahahaEAHAHAHE *geegle* My pipis children will feed on ur TERROR and PAIN )

[ ID: Two photos of me, a light brown skinned, [Image ID: My Halloween costume of SPAMTON from Deltarune. I am a medium-light skin toned brown person with a round face, a big nose with a bump at the end, messy black hair vaguely styled puffily and black eyes. I stand in my white walled room with a cupboard, black clock, fan and books in front of me, on the bed.

My cosplay of Spamton from Deltarune the game involves a black churdidar tucked into white pants so it looks like a shirt. My cat eye glasses are pasted over with pink and yellow papers, and so are red stickers stuck on my cheeks. Other than that, I wear my usual gold chain necklace and stud earrings. I hold a small paper axe with simplistic wire and circuitry designs drawn on it, with a dark blue edge. Its handle reads GIVE KROMER in all caps, with a sketch of a big grin. Theres blood like splatters drawn on the axe.

In the first photo I cutely hold the axe, running my hands along it and lean slightly, smiling. In the second I grin with teeth as I come forward with my axe raised to kill. End ID]

HAPPYWEEN!!!!

( plaintext: happyween!!!)

[whilomm]

safety fact u kno those lil yellow and black cap things u see on those metal roadside barriers

those r there bc the old barriers used to impale people a bit more which is bad. the caps make them impale people a bit less, which is good. next time u are driving say thank you to the anti-impalement terminals.

[marvelsbanner]

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx 

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

-

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god.  No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

-

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place. 

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

-

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat. 

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this. 

[kaijutegu]

Hey Kaiju, hope you're doing well! It looks like NC is trying to ban tegus. Having a tegu yourself and being knowledgeable about them, what do you recommend we do? Theres a zoom meeting on the 20th about it and they're taking comments, I dont even know what to say. Can tegus even live that far north?

Yes they can, but a ban makes zero sense and here is why!

Unlike most... ok, unlike ALL other reptiles, tegus have some endothermic (warm blooded) properties. They can manipulate their internal body temperature some, primarily during breeding season, and this helps them survive winters that kill things like iguanas and the big pythons. As climate change continues, it's very likely that they'll keep pushing north, and there are parts of NC that could sustain that population.

BUT. When you look at the situation in Florida, North Carolina is not at the same level of risk. The big tegu populations down there came from one breeder release and one or more big warehouse escapes by importers. Escaped or released pets are not going to cause an invasive situation. The sensible solution, in my opinion, is permitting, licensure for breeders, and microchipping, as well as banning mass imports.

Each of these pieces would work a little differently. In order of importance, banning imports is the first thing NC should do. Banning mass imports would stop the warehouse situation from ever occurring. I don't think that NC currently really has any major reptile imports, at least not at the level Florida does/did. I think that before a pet owner ban, this must be in place first.

Then, license your breeders. Make it so that anybody producing tegus must have permission and must report their numbers. Here's how I'd do it: Put a cap on how many adults they can have and require an annual facility inspection. They have to prove that their containment is good- that the animals can't get out- and they have to report any escapes to Fish and Wildlife. They also need to produce an annual report keeping track of how many babies hatched and where those babies went, as well as how many adults they have of each sex. Hognose breeders (a permit species) here in IL do stuff like that all the time, and it's not a problem. Failure to report escapes=big fine. Failure to produce annual report=big fine after a couple of reminders. Honestly, a good breeder cares about where the babies end up, so collecting some data about where they go probably won't be pushing anybody too far.

I could also see the logic behind just blanket banning breeding. Babies are wriggly, clever escape artists and if you're producing dozens of them at a time, it could be pretty easy for them to get out. This could be enforced by capping the number of adults people are allowed to have and implementing heavy fines if they're caught breeding the animals or letting eggs hatch. (If accidents happen, you have... months to put the eggs in the freezer or otherwise destroy them.) But I think that introducing a licensing system would be worth a try, especially because right now there isn't an invasive population.

Permits for pet ownership are another thing that would be fairly easy to set up. They could even be auto-generated through Fish and Wildlife or the DNR or whatever NC calls it. The only point of these permits would be to track where existing animals are and to identify who has them. This is something that makes some people kinda bristle, because "muh privacy," but it's literally no different than a municipal license for a dog. Except cheaper– the permit doesn't have to be expensive, and honestly I think keeping it free would encourage people to go through with it. As an example, in IL, you need a permit to keep or breed the western hognose because it's threatened in our state. Keeping a few as a pet requires a free permit; breeding them requires a permit that comes with a 50 dollar annual fee. If you look at that pet permit, it's basically auto-generated. They don't really care too much about the individual- they just want to know where the animals are.

The most difficult idea to implement would be mass microchipping. In Florida, they use PIT tags which ping an antenna whenever the animal passes it. This helps track their location. I don't think NC needs that because they don't have an established invasive population. But requiring microchipping like you'd maybe do for a dog or cat is a good idea. If the animal does get out, it can be established quickly whether it's a pet or not. Once the animal is captured, it can be scanned for a chip. If it's not a pet, pay attention to the location and rethink the management strategy. If you get a LOT of non-chipped animals, it's time to reconsider the ban. But if it's chipped? Call up the owner. Potentially fine them. I'd probably implement a strike system, where if your animal gets out once, it's a warming and if it gets out again, it's a ticket or fine or something.

The challenge here would be getting people to chip their animals. Even though all tegu owners should have an exotic vet they regularly take their animal to for checkups, not everybody does that. This could be mitigated by state-sponsored chip clinics/chip days and heavy public outreach by local herp societies.

For the public meeting, here's the questions I would ask:

1. Where is the evidence that pet owners are causing or might cause an invasive tegu population in NC?

2. Why is the state going to a general ban instead of a permit system?

3. What impact studies or predictions have been produced that lead to these conclusions?

4. What makes them think a ban will work? What will prevent people who already have tegus from just going "eh" and releasing them?

5. What other methods is the state planning on using to stop a potential tegu threat? What early detection and response plans do they have in place?

6. Have there actually been any tegu sightings or evidence of tegu populations establishing themselves in NC? Somebody should just point blank ask them why they think this is a step they need to take.

If they say there's no evidence and they just want to keep it that way, you might want to point out that banning them won't actually stop people from getting them. It just makes it illegal, but the thing is, the reptile hobby doesn't always care about that. People will just go to expos out of state or order their animals online.

But! Providing a legal avenue towards ownership will just make their job easier. What that will do is create data about where these animals are. That way, if an invasive population does come into being, it can either be traced back to the humans responsible... or it will be evident that it's a migrating population from another state.

As of January 2022, there's only one news story about tegus being loose in NC. Three were spotted in Wake County in 2017, and the police initially misidentified them as Gila monsters, which is kinda funny. I couldn't find any followup but it was said that the three escaped from one home in Bowling Green, which means that they were probably in outside containment and they dug under or climbed over the fence.

USARK also has some talking points here, as well as a summary of the proposed legislation.

Good luck in that public meeting!

[cannibal-witchh]

Reader(Fem) X Alcina Dimitrescu

(PART 1)

Written by cannibal_witchh

⛓Trigger Warning⛓

Story contains: Gore, sexual elements, vulgar language, violence, elements of sub/dom behavior, and captivity.

Notes:

I am not the most confident writer so bare with me if theres some flaws floating around the story. I also have very minimal general knowledge to Alcina right now due just demos only being out. Please, be considerate that there's only so much information released on her so most of what I'm writing is not canon. Let's keep it positive and real, we all are thirsting after Lady D so here's a a fanfiction. Also couldn't condense it in one story so going to make this adleast a two or three parter.

It can get confusing with a lot of female characters so the reader is of course:

Y/N - your name

Her/she- i wanted to refer to the female reader in italics and bold

Y/L/N- your last name

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Thunder echoed along the well decorated corridor walls . Hints of lightning occasionally flashed between fluttering curtains. Beyond the curtains was an open window, below that was a critical drop into snow and shards of large rocks. That was definitely not worth risking. Y/N had been held in captivity for what felt like a legitimate eternity. Confinded to a small well kempt room, it seemed as though it had once been a guest room according to the furnishing. All the basic necessities of a bedroom were present here. The fabrics that dressed the bed were of a fine quality, and the boards that held all of it up were of incredible carpentry. Gentle embers flickered from the candlewicks that rose tall on the golden girandoles. Despite captivity the room was comfortable, it was illuminated with warm colors, although still dim and feint.

The door swung open, a black swarm of insects swirled infront of the door as it begun to quickly form a figure. It revealed a small vampiric woman, hooded with golden locks peaking from under it. She flashed her teeth with an enthusiastic smile, as she revealed blood stained teeth, lips, as well as her chin. " Oh, goody! You are awake. I always feel bad feeding when someone is asleep.", She shut the door as she advanced closer to Y/N. Adrenaline began to flood through her veins, hair on her body standing up, and her palms perspiring. She was covered in scabbed bite marks, and bruises - it didn't take long for her to recall the abrupt painful puncture of teeth break through her skin. The old bites began to twitch with pain at the idea a new addition would be welcomed. " I just prefer blood thats been in shock, y'know, awake? It gives it a nice acidic flavor, plus,", she towered over Y/N breathing in her aroma. " It smells wonderful.", she giggled in soft whispers. "Enough.", Y/N demanded as she attempted to cease her trembling. Her body was returning to anxiety because it was clear what was about to happen. A feeding. The vampire didn't seem to express offense, strangely her face bore amusement. "Oh ok, how about this!", she excitedly brought out her sickle and swung at her. With one swift swing the sickle hooked right under her knee cap. A shriek was released from Y/N's lips, agonizing pain radiating everywhere, and blood began to river out from the site. The vampire dragged her with the sickle through the corridor as everything seemed like a blurr from the shock. Hallways seemed like a stretched out haze, and noises seemed to be loud echoes one would hear in a juvenile cafeteria. "Whe-where are you taking me...?", she barely mustered as she felt the sickle dig through muscle and actually brush against the back of her knee cap. Fuck. The sickle was released quickly from her skin as she heard the sound of blood fly onto the ground. That abrupt removal felt worse for minutes compared to the weapon actually being present in Y/N's knee. The monstrous woman lifted the sickle to her crimson stained lips, inhaling the aroma deep, and then proceeding to lick the sickle of the blood it had collected. Sounds of ecstasy escaped her satin black lips, her eyes darted over at Y/N as she felt like she was on the verge of fainting from shock. " I love blood that has some acidicity to it. It gives it a nice kick. You know how that works? For example, your blood could still have more of that taste. One who is in a flight or fright scenario, where they are in absolute fear and adrenaline kicks in...thats when the meat and blood have a sour flavor. Mmm, thats why we are going to play a game." , she licked her lips as her eyes flickered with hunger and passion. Y/N groaned in pain as she felt her body gasp from the fevered pain beating in her knee. " I propose we play hide and go seek! You already know who's hiding. I will give you to the count of 100." , her eyes shimmered from this fucked up idea, she quickly turned her back and covered her eyes. Slowly the sickle in her hand vanished within dark smoke, damn it, Y/N within fading in and out had thought perhaps of stealing that and killing her there. Not anymore. She rose up with wobbling knees, just like a new born dear barely capable of using its legs, she began to hobble as fast as she could away.

"Oh, and I can smell your blood. So hide well, Y/L/N."

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Y/N consistently looked back, watching if the vampire had cheated the game. She was indeed honoring the game, that was adleast something about this blonde one she liked. She seemed to honor things she said, " 89...70...", her voice echoed loudly through the halls. The numbers lowering as Y/N felt her adrenaline spike even higher.

Y/N managed to find a door unlocked in a different wing of the manor. She adleast went through 10 locked doors before fleeing to another location of the manor. With pure luck, she discovered this door, it was unlocked and she took her gamble and entered quietly. With trembling gore soiled hands, she locked the door, and sunk to the ground. Very little energy existed in her, she anticipated for dear life the blonde vampire wouldn't smell her here.

The sound of gentle humming danced along the walls of this room, very melodic, sad, and eerie. Lonely, perhaps. With Y/N's quick realization, this resembled a garden bath house. The windows stretched tall in this room, revealing bleeding light from the full moon, there were plants of vibrant emeralds surrounding the large mass of water that centered the room. The water was decorated with rose petals and red spider lilies. The room was architecturally structured with several stones of marble, and looked almost like a Greek bath house . Gentle sounds of rushing water followed between stones which flowed into the big pool of water. Little ripples scattered across the water causing the red flowers to bob up and down.

The humming persisted as Y/N felt her heart drop, she quickly scurried to the nearest marble pillar to conceal herself. The humming was growing louder and louder, could it be the hungry vampire? She wasn't certain if it was worse but it certainly felt like it, Lady Dimitrescu emerged from the shadows of the room, and strided to the water. She was only wrapped in the finest silk, a tight sheer white robe that hugged tightly against her hips. She definitely had a full figure, the robe delivered a silhouette of her motherly figure. It certainly complimented, the low cut of the robe teased her deep cleavage, the sheer silk revealed faint color and the shape of her puffy areolas. Even in the predicament Y/N was in, it was still hard not to appreciate Alcina's physical beauty.

Alcina continued her melodic hum for a few more moments as she admired the undulations of the floral water. " Y/N Y/L/N, you believe me to be foolish?", she broke from her tune as her eyes looked directly at Y/N. She gulped hard as she submitted to the acceptance Alcina would more than likely kill her. She continued to lay her back against the cold pillar, one hand applying pressure to her bleeding knee, the other containing the fear that was trying to escape her lips. " I could smell that delicious blood from here.", she chucked lightly, "Come here, now.", she demanded with her arms crossing. Y/N did not obey the command, she remained quiet behind the pillar. For minutes it consisted of painful sharp silence, only the sound of her terrified heart beats could be heard. Her ears burned and rung, it desperately needed the assurance Alcina was still idle. Did Y/N dare look beyond the pillar? She peeked over and Alcina was no where to be found. Consternation filled her as there wasn't even a trace of evidence to signify the direction Alcina went. Unexpectedly, Y/N felt a hard blow and collapsed on her side. Her hands releasing themselves, and a gasp of air evacuated her mouth. " Oh, I see. ", Alcina had kicked her, her foot pressed hard against her side. Her smooth leg exposed, tracing all the way to her innermost thigh. Her skin looked smooth like porcelain, but certainly felt the weight of heavy boulders as it rested on her. Y/N groaned in pain as she felt her foot dig deep into her. "Bleeding out on my perfect floors. Oh, what a mess. Although, it does certainly smells of of tart berries, yes, what a wonderful aroma.", Alcina breathed in the cold air, inhaling hints of Y/N's blood. She moaned in intoxication to the alluring smell of fresh blood. Alcina removed her foot from Y/N, she gasped for air in relief, and tried to attempt to sit up. Alcina quickly lunged forward without even a blink, and her long hand wrapped around Y/N's throat. "No, I don't think so.", Alcina smirked as her hand squeezed around her throat. She fell onto her back, the large vampress towering over, her large hand pressing into her throat.She was capable of breathing but it was incredibly taxing especially with the critical condition she was in. Desperate wheezing filled the air, it burned and stung inside of Y/N's throat. Alcina stared into her eyes, a long red smile stretched upon her pale white face. "Hmm, this is quite boring already. I am quite famished too.", she released her grip, ascended and brought her arms to her bosom to cross them. Y/N began to violently cough and gag as proper air flow returned to her lungs. After several minutes of constant heaving, she finally managed to collect herself. "Come.", Alcina ordered as she turned on the balls of her feet and waltzed to the bath. Y/N submitted, too exhausted to resist any longer. She barely could stand but managed, she approached Alcina with her eyes fixed on her every move. " My little one lacks control. Just as I would suspect with her age. If she doesn't stop stabbing you, you'll die. And I really have grown addicted to your flavor as well. I really would hate for you to bleed out one day because of her reckless actions.", she expressed with a sigh of annoyance. Suddenly, a knock interrupted her rambling, " Lady Dimitrescu,", it was the blonde vampire. Alcina let out another sigh in annoyance. "Yes?", she responded with a disinterested tone, as she crossed her arms a little more snug. Revealing a distracting amount of cleavage being pressed together. " Is Y/N in there?", she sniffed loudly as she strived to rattle the door knob open. " Yes, but I require her. I will discuss with you later some important matters. For the mean time, please do not disturb me and I'll return to you soon.", Alcina said sternly as her fingers drummed the top of her arms impatiently. "Yes, Lady Dimitrescu. ", the blonde vampire responded with pure disappointment in her tone.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes. I've decided you will become my little feeding pet. My daughters do not know how to handle food without killing it. So you are now only mine. Clear?", she lowered herself and grabbed Y/N by the face. Turning her face side to side to examine the condition she was in. Y/N nodded to the best of her abilities, and quickly, Alcina released her. "Good. I'm glad you are willing. I want you to undress now." Embarassment flooded Y/N's mind, her cheeks buzzing with warmth. Why would she even demand that? " I intend on drinking the blood thats already spilling out of you. But I won't drink it while its been dragged around by a rusty sickle and pressed against the dirty floor.", her refined side was definitely exposed. She was different from her daughters, she wanted her meals much more virtuous. " Oh, now, now. I will even join you. They say when two are bathing they are equals.", she added as she disrobed herself. Gently she slide the robe off her shoulders and down her large breasts, as the robe began to flutter down to the marble. Her naked body exposed, and remarkable. Her large breasts sitting perky, her puffy areolas a light grey, and her waist down was incredibly curvy. Absolutely, a full figured silhouette. She dipped her feet in and followed by submerging her body into the bathwater. She let out a sound of relaxation as she smirked and beckoned Y/N. "Come, now."

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To be continued...

[xenowingfield]

im curious on how did Ryusui had an half-indian brother, could you tell me your thoughts?

HAHA YES I CAN!!!!! ok so hear me out--ryusui is also mixed. ill go more in depth later but im willing to hedge a bet that one of ryusuis parents is japanese and they FUCK. ive seen this thought that maybe ryusui has a sibling in every one of the 7 seas and thats a really cute idea (and partially plausible, nanami literally means 7 seas).

basically, boichi takes into account racial features, and via. this we can get a sense of the race of each character! the biggest racial features that are included are eyelid types, eye shapes, eyebrows, forehead size (i......dont know either), and nose type. as a slight note, dcst nose types arent... necessarily the easiest to categorize, as they often fluctuate from chapter to chapter, especially as boichis style undergoes slight shifts. for ease, im categorizing it as visibility from a 3/4th angle. i will try to keep this short but i make no promises. continue under the cut, hella images

OK WELL I WAS GONNA HAVE HELLA IMAGES BUT THERES A FUCKING IMAGE CAP?????????????? WHAT. also sorry if some of them are weird?? i saved this to a draft and now its all wonky i dont know

first for the slaughter: asagiri gen

i want to especially point to gen because as far as we are aware, he is majorly japanese, and he is the best example of boichis way of drawing japanese ethnic features. small eyebrows, hooded eyes w/ a distinct epicanthal fold, small nose, narrow eyes w/ sharper angles!

ill also be usin hyoga as an additional reference i prommy all of the majorly japanese ethnic characters have these features its not just gen

hyoga specifically because hes more visibly masculine than gen, and doesn't really have any cutesy appeal. same as before! thin brows, narrow eyes w/ epicanthal fold n hooded eyes, less prominent nose.

western features! namely, xenny boy:

hes uh...... got a 5head, to put it lightly. this fucker has HEAD. its for some reason a design choice for ALL of the americans so it would feel weird to not mark it as an ethnic trait? xenos is just... the biggest. but here you can see a pretty big difference already--large eyelids, round eyes, big ass eyebrows, big ass forehead, more prominent nose.

now; cannonically mixed characters! ill be using kohaku and sai.

small eyebrows, non-prominent nose: japanese features (byakuya) big forehead, rounded eyes: american features (lillian)

mwa mwa mwa boy of the hour, nanami sai

BIG ASS eyebrows, slightly prominent nose?, rounded eyes, hooded eyelids. hes a lot more 'in the middle' than characters like kohaku + ruri but you can still pick out the distinct ethnic features!

aaaaaand everyones favorite puppy capitalist

he doesnt usually uh.... make any expression other than 👁��👁️ so sorry if its hard to see his eyelids. BUT, his defined ethnic features are basically identical to sais! minus hair, theyre pretty similar. his eyes are a bbbit narrower, but not a ton, i think sai is just perma o.o. if ryusui was majorly japanese, then he would have thinner eyebrows, epicanthal folds, a smaller nose, etc.! because of this, we can conclude that ryusui is mixed!

basically: its possible ryusui is also partly indian, or he shares a parent w/ sai. obvs adoption is possible but they do look related--theyve been designed to have the same lil hook eyebrows, so theyre probably blood related.

[killrockabill]

So, i just finished falcon and the winter soldier, and i gotta say i do t understand the extent of the hate for walker. Don’t get me wrong not a good guy, but honestly almost tragic imo.

He starts off as this kinda douche jock type who by no means would i enjoy an extended conversation with, but thats abt it at the start? With how strong the response was I expected him to be a bigot or something.

We see him EARLY on feeling the pressure of the title and admitting while its what he wanted he doesn’t know if he can be what people expect (hmm real life parallels)

He is polite enough to sam and bucky in the bulk of their early interactions and even points out that he gets why they don’t care for him. He overstep in a number of ways. He assumes that a smile and shield will automatically earn their trust and lashes out after it doesn’t work right away. He doesn’t just get that from them however he gets that on the job plenty too.

We bust his balls because he throws the title captain America around but like lets be honest its a badass title so in more casual convos can you really say you would t name drop here and there? Then the escalated situations at the end of the day hes trying to do a job. He’s like a new manager not getting taken seriously because hes new, yes, he does need to earn it but did he REALLY get an opportunity to? A job he’s not fit for and knows it. He talks about wanting to do the job ie be in the field because its what he knows and is good at. Hes steves monkey on the unicycle drawing at the earliest stages.

He mentions to Lamar that the medals they earned were for some fucked up shit. Which unfortunately isn’t uncommon in the military nowadays. He calls this out during his trial (is it a trial? Idk what youd call it) he wasn’t steve who disobeyed orders for the greater good he was a good soldier at the expense of being a good man. Is that ok? Does that excuse anything? No. Not even a little because of course not all vets are like that but its not like hed be the first and unfortunately not the last.

THEN his insecurities about not being able to measure up and do the job. He IS the job. There are plenty od people like that where the job is not just a job but a part of them and what do you do when thats slipping? How many of us were the smart or creative kid and found ourselves feeling inferior by running into set back after set back. What does he do to rectify this? He takes the serum. He takes it KNOWING it can change him. he doesnt just throw it back like a shot of whiskey. No, he passively runs it by his best friend and partner; his bucky. (The whole I’m the new cap and this is my emotional support bucky is a whole separate convo I’m not gonna get into) he mentions being afraid of how it could change a person. His friend who genuinely believes hes a good man and will do his best supports him (obvs not realizing this isnt just a hypothetical situation)

Then it happens, lamar is gone his rock the guy we see earlier in the show reigning him in when he starts to lose his temper or not see the big picture. Hes gone because john wasnt good enough. So his rock and best friend are gone hes pumped a chemical in himself that everyone knows amplifies everything good and bad. He was a time bomb that went off. From there he spirals we literally see a mental breakdown followed by an ass whooping. Hes fucked up at this point and fucked up is as fucked up does. Nothing during this time is acceptable but it was ...inevitable.

He is not a good person by default and it does not come easy. This issue is exasperated by his own inadequacy, the pressure of being captain america, loss both personal and professional. He doesnt have the luxury of fighting nazis eho are objectively bad. He’s fighting people who are themselves in a grey area. At the end we see a small embodiment of him where theres a truck of people who need saving and his target getting away, and what’s he do? Hesitate. Steve would never have hesitated but ultimately he chose tk try and save the people (and failed hmm more inadequacy. Personally i thing they should have given him the win but thats neither here nor there.) yeah he was out for blood and i cant say that if my best friend was murdered i wouldnt be either (also i wish they did more with “LAMARS LIFE DIDNT MATTER?!” Like maybe it would’ve been heavy handed but you know where im going with it)

Hes a man that the military failed. A good soldier at the expense of being a good man. He clearly wants to be steve but cant and if that aint tragic idk mang.

[ezrasarm]

Loving You Too Late

[ day 3 | angstaggedon masterlist ]

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: You and Frankie have loved each other for a long time. You’re just a little out of synch.

Warnings: Angst, a tad bit of cheating (more like brief romantic overlap), language, main characters being idiots, oh and theres a funeral too

Credits: A massive thank you to @chaotic-noceur​ and @din-damn-djarin​ for beta reading and listening to me complain about how much of an idiot I am for deciding to write this! I don’t know that I would have finished it without your encouragement and now it’s the longest oneshot in my repertoire!

A/N: “Let’s write oneshots!” we said. “It’ll be fun!” we said. “Just connect the bullet points!” we said… 4.6K words later. Yeah we really have no self control at all do we?

You and Frankie had known one another pretty much all your lives. Your parents both had cottages on the same small lake where you would spend most of your summers. His place was just two doors down from your own so you knew who he was through community events and simply for being the “Morales Kid”. You hadn’t really gotten to know him until one summer when you applied for a job at the general store just across the lake. He was working stocking shelves the same year. You don’t think you’ll ever forget that first shift you shared together. You hadn’t seen him in a couple of years and you could hardly believe the name tag clipped to his shirt labelled “Frankie” when you first set eyes on him. He’d grown up a lot in the meantime. He was taller, his shoulders had broadened and he was more solidly built than the lanky little kid you’d known him as for so long. But the mop of wild chestnut curls on top of his head that he hid under a beat-up and salt-stained truckers cap assured you it was him. 

It was the boredom of day-long shifts in the near-empty store that made the two of you overcome your timid demeanours. It started with you offering him a soda on one of your lunch breaks. That turned into long conversations with one another when your boss was nowhere to be seen, sending goofy looks to each other over the shoulders of unsuspecting customers, and stealing the occasional ice cream from the freezer. Soon just hanging out at work turned into hanging out whenever you got the chance. You peering over his shoulder as he tinkered with boat motors he’d salvaged from the brink of death. Him timing you when you would swim lengths between the neighbour’s dock and your own. Before you knew it you were taking any excuse you could to spend time with one another, until it came to the point where you didn’t even need an excuse at all. Suddenly you and this shy kid with his feet on the ground and his head in the clouds were inseparable.

Of course, Frankie being Frankie didn’t realize what that clenching feeling that rose in his chest every time he set eyes on you was until it wasn’t there anymore. Summer had to come to an end at some point, and with it you two were reluctantly dragged away to your respective ends of the state to finish off school. The almost seven-hour drive between you complicated your usual hangout rituals but you took to calling one another whenever you got the chance. Frankie’s friends would tease him for it but he practically sprinted across the room whenever the phone rang. He had thick skin. He brushed them off when they would hoot or holler and make kissing sounds at the mention of your name. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He would remind them through an irritated roll of his eyes whenever they would ask about you. What he hadn’t realized was that the annoyance he felt towards them wasn’t because of their mocking tone or their rowdy demeanours but because a part of him wished you were.

It was a Friday night after you had ended your call with a heavy yawn and an apology that you had to go to sleep because you were up early that morning. A goofy smile lingered on his face as he flopped back into his bed, that infectious laugh of yours was still ringing in his ears when that feeling washed over him again. The same one that made his stomach flip when you would shoot him a grin from the checkout of the shop. The one that made his blood boil when his friends would joke at him for making you up. The one that made his heart break when the line went dead after you hung up. The one that made his palms sweat and his heart hammer against his ribcage at the mere thought of you. Suddenly it hit him like a freight train all at once. It was too obvious to deny any more. He was completely, absolutely and utterly head over heels for you.

But as school work ramped up and your agenda got fuller and fuller, your calls became fewer and farther in between. A quick ‘hello’, ‘what’s new?’, ‘nothing much’ and a ‘sorry, I gotta go’. There were a few times where he almost let it slip. The conversation would come to a lull and his eyes would fall to his feet. His hand would instinctively come to scratch the back of his neck as he readjusted his grip on the phone. He would even start the sentence. “Listen, uh” Then he’d shake the thought away. As desperate as he had grown to tell you how he felt he couldn’t bring himself to do it over the phone. He needed to see your face. He wanted to lock his gaze onto those beautiful eyes of yours and see your reaction. His skin crawled at the idea of the words tumbling out of his mouth only for you to go silent and that dreaded tone to ring through the line telling him you had hung up. He would tell you this summer, he promised himself. Just a few months. He could hang on that long. 

Which he did. He had a speech planned by the time he watched your car pull up the driveway to the small wooden cabin you called your home every summer. A smile broke across his face as he stood up from the doorstep where he had been waiting to greet you. You came barrelling out of the car the moment it came to a full stop, just about knocking him over with the force you collided to envelop him in a tight hug. 

“Why are you crying, you big baby?” He teased when you pulled away only for him to see your eyes were watery with unshed tears. 

“Because I missed you, you idiot!” You force out a laugh, whacking the visor on his cap lightly so it fell down in over his line of sight before wiping away the damp from around your temples with the heel of your palm.

Frankie’s heart is hammering in his chest when he parts his lips to speak again. He’s got the words on the tip of his tongue when a voice he doesn’t recognize emerges from behind you. “So you’re the famous Frankie I’ve heard so much about!” He feels the smile on his face drop the moment his eyes fall on the stranger in question who has now tucked his arm around your waist. “I’m Mike.” He says, an amiable smile on his face as he extends a free hand to shake. Frankie hesitates a moment, his confession from before still lodged in the back of his throat. He has to choke it down with a curt smile before he accepts the gesture. He’s not sure how long he stands there, politely nodding along to the conversation, his mind elsewhere as you make introductions he’s not ready to hear. You looked so happy together he can’t help but feel out of place. He’s not even sure what words he used to excuse himself as he retreats down the beaten dirt path that leads back to his place. 

He’d never felt his emotions flip on their head so fast he felt he might have vertigo. Yet here he was, his head spinning and the taste of bile bitter on his tongue. He felt like a fool. Wracking his brain for any sign you could’ve given him, any warning that would have told him to stop. Stop loving you as though that were a thing that was within his power to do. He’s got every phone call you had shared since you left playing on repeat in his head but he keeps coming up empty. You gave him nothing. That or he was too selfishly consumed in his own ardency for you that it hadn’t even occurred to him that you might already have your own… for someone else.

“Hey, where were you?” You asked him from where you’d perched yourself on the stretch of dock just in front of the boathouse. His boathouse. Your toes just barely skimmed the surface of the calm water sending ripples across the lake. It had been three days that you hadn’t seen him, a long stretch by your standards. At first, you had simply put it down to him being busy. Maintaining his parent’s property was no small feat and there was no one there to help him yet this season. But the longer you went without a sign of him the more worried you started to get. 

“Had to pick up gas for the boat.” He said, jostling the jerrycan in his grasp and you formed your mouth into an ‘o’ as you nodded in understanding.

“Did it strand you in the middle of the lake again?” You ask a smug grin pulling at the corner of your lip as you recall the time you saw him fruitlessly rowing the old fishing boat against the wind with only one ore and had to go out there and rescue him yourself.

“No,” He scolds you genially as he comes to sit next to you with a heavy sigh. “...not this time.” He adds, causing an affable chuckle, one that made his heart skip a beat in his chest, to escape you. It’s only when he catches himself staring at your up-quirked lips that he has to clear his throat. A pang of guilt that hasn’t quite become custom yet is nagging at the back of his mind as his gaze falls in front of him. 

“Where’s Mike?” He asks hesitantly, not entirely sure he wants an answer to that question yet.

“He left this morning.” You say. He hates that the sombre note to your voice actually gives him an ounce of hope for a moment. “He has to be back in town for work on Monday.”

“Ah, a city boy.” Frankie teases in an attempt to muffle his own disappointment and you jostle him with your shoulder chidingly.

“Hey, lay off.” You laugh softly before your tone shifts and those upturned corners of your mouth drop wistfully. “I thought you’d like him.” You said, quieter now as though you weren’t convinced you wanted him to hear it. 

He hated the way you looked up at him, your eyes blown wide with such expectation. He hated that his opinion mattered and that it wasn’t the one you wanted to hear. Because that was just it. Frankie did like him. Or at least he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. He should like him and yet the mere mention of ‘Mike’ made him want to punch a wall. He’d been hiding away this entire weekend because he could hardly stand the thought of looking you in the eye when he couldn’t tell you the one thing that had been playing in his mind on a loop for months. Yet here you were, forcing his hand and he couldn’t even be mad about it. He was just so desperate to be near you.

“I- yeah.” He clears his throat as his gaze falls to the water, and a pregnant pause fills the air. You purse your lips as it hits you that he’s less enthused about this introduction than you had hoped he would be. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” He huffs out softly through an obviously feigned attempt at a smile. But the truth was you didn’t know. Or at least you didn’t want to know. You couldn’t figure out why but something in the back of your mind had told you it would hurt him. And with the look on his face as you tried to come up with a decent answer, he was beginning to prove you right. 

“I don’t know.”

You hadn’t intended for it to work out this way. But that just so happened to be the last conversation you had with him. You left for university and the next thing you heard, he had shipped out and joined the army. Perhaps it would have stung a little less had he been the one to tell you, but you had to hear it through your parents when you went home for mid-term break. Everything about the way you left things with him made you sick to your stomach. You had drifted apart from your fair share of friends over the years. It was never easy. It always hurts. But it had never hurt like this. It took you years to find out why.

“Whatever happened to you two?” Margaret, the next-door neighbour who lived just between your cottage and Frankie’s, asked, looking fondly at the scrapbook in her lap. “You were always so cute together.” She added, her voice warbling with what she excused as ‘age’. She had come over briefly to borrow something when you invited her in for a drink and she caught sight of the picture book on the coffee table.

“Who?” You asked, leaning over to take a look at the photo. “Oh, we weren’t… together.” You interjected, feeling childish for the way you avoided the implication that you and Frankie had ever been a couple at all costs. 

“Really?” She asked, leaning back to quirk an eyebrow at you skeptically. “Try telling him that.” She scoffed, plucking another photo from the binder. It was the two of you at the end of your dock. You were flaunting the tiny ass fish you had caught for the camera as though you had just caught that night’s dinner. But what grabbed your attention wasn’t the goofy look on your face, the ridiculous stance you had adopted, or the fish you were holding cautiously at an arm’s length. It was Frankie, his gaze set unflinchingly on you.

“Really, we were just… friends.” You try to explain, but you’re too distracted by the admiring look in his eyes and lopsided grin at his lips to sound entirely convinced by yourself. 

“All I know is that the way he is looking at you,” she says, prodding a shaky finger at the photograph, “is not how friends look at one another.” She concluded before dropping the subject altogether. 

Sure, it had crossed your mind from time to time. The idea of you and Frankie being together wasn’t all too outlandish. You could see how she might have been confused after all. You got along well, you spent a lot of time together, you cared about him deeply and dare you say you even loved him but- 

You loved him. 

The thought had implanted itself in your mind before you could even process it and suddenly you couldn’t believe what you were admitting. Staring down the snapshot of your former self now, all you could do was wonder why the hell you couldn’t have caught on sooner. Why you couldn’t have turned around in that moment, seen him and had it all snap into place before you managed to fuck it up so royally. Why...Why did you have to fuck it up? Your mind snapped back to the night before you left that summer. You hugged him and you could still feel the lurch in your chest, not unlike the one you were experiencing now, from when his grip on you lingered a few moments longer than usual. 

You were scared.

Scared because you had never done this before. You had never been in love or fallen out of it, and you had convinced yourself the only outcome was heartbreak. Scared because if things went south, you would lose not only the person you had ever loved like that but your best friend too and that was too high a price for you to pay. Scared because you didn’t want to hurt him just because you knew you were too afraid to take the leap. 

Turns out you managed to do that anyway. 

So now, as much as you wanted to- as much as your heart bled for you to march down to his place and bang on his front door until he was forced to open up, you knew you were too late. He was stationed god knows where with a whole new life of his own. You probably couldn’t even get a hold of him now if you tried. So you didn’t. Instead you cleared your throat, took a sip of water and asked Margaret if she had any big plans for the summer. 

You thought you had moved on. Which was why you weren’t looking for him when you attended the very same Margaret’s funeral six years later. You weren’t searching for him when you caught sight of a familiar silhouette a couple meters ahead of you and you certainly weren’t trying to grab his attention when you snatched that trucker’s cap off his head on your way into the church for the service. 

“Really? At a funeral? You’re wearing a suit.” You chided as he whipped around, his hand instinctively going to smooth down his hair as his eyes fell on you. He hesitated a moment, his mouth agape as he took you in. Your immediate assumption was that he didn’t want to see you, that perhaps time alone doesn’t heal all wounds and as much as you had hoped this would be easy, as much as you wished you could fall back into old habits as though nothing had happened, you were different people now. It had been twelve years after all. A wave of panic rose in your chest as you tried to fill the silence. “I didn’t think you owned one of those.” You joked. ‘Sure, tease him more. That’ll help’ you cursed yourself but you were relieved when a soft chuckle escaped him.

“No, I uh, I had to borrow it.” He huffed out. He was sure his cheeks were on fire with the heat that had flooded them all of a sudden. He froze the moment he laid eyes on you. He hadn’t done that in years and suddenly he felt himself being reduced to some teenage crush that made his heart stutter and his palms sweat. “Y- You look good.” He remarked, still feeling out of his element in the ill-fitting suit as he watched you, beautiful as ever, toying with the brim of his hat.

“So do you.” You said, biting back the smile that threatened to break across your face. This clearly wasn’t the place. You wound up sitting together for the rest of the ceremony, dropping by the reception for a moment to pay your respects, then inviting him for a drink at the bar just down the street so you could catch up properly. There was a moment’s pause where you thought he might turn you down. He probably had things to get back to in his limited time back in town and who were you to get in the way of that? But instead he shot you a classic Frankie smile, one you hadn’t seen in a long time, and you wound up reliving memories of summers passed in the dingy leather clad booth for hours.

It was as you emptied out into the parking lot. It was late and you both had places to be in the morning. Perhaps you’d had a bit too much to drink or maybe it was just that magnetic pull you always seemed to feel when you were around him. His head was thrown back in laughter over something you had said and his features, aged slightly from the time that had elapsed but still carrying those undefinably ‘Frankie’ qualities you had fallen in love with in the first place, had been outlined in the dull glow of the orange street light a couple meters away. For one glimmering moment you felt as though you had been handed a second chance. The one you had told yourself it wasn’t possible and that even if it were you were too late. But you had lived through that loss. The one that had paralyzed you with fear and self doubt for so long. You had suffered the aftermath and you had missed him so deeply you felt you were missing a part of yourself. And now he was standing right here in front of you. You weren’t about to let him slip through your fingers again.

��Frankie, I loved you.” You blurted out suddenly only to watch the smile that had been plastered to his face drop in the blink of an eye. ‘Well you sure had a funny way of showing it’ was his immediate thought but he was too stunned to get that out.

“You what?” He asked, not because your words hadn’t reached his ears but because he couldn’t seem to make sense of them. He had spent so long thinking you simply weren’t interested in him. That he wasn’t good enough or that he would always be playing second fiddle to someone else. Someone better suited for you, that you actually felt something for.

“I said I-” 

“No, I heard you.” He clarified but the clip to his tone and that look in his eye told you that you had overstepped. That you had just undone all the progress you’d made over the past couple hours. That this time you wouldn’t be able to rebuild the bridges you had just demolished so carelessly. How was it that he was always the one to suffer for your mistakes?

“Frankie I’m sorry, I never meant-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were firmly planted on your own, a hand splayed against the small of your back, pulling you in towards him. You had to grip his upper arm just to keep yourself from toppling over from the sheer momentum of it all. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears and you were sure the alcohol in your veins wasn’t helping the way your head was spinning but something clicked in your mind. It felt so right being in his arms, so comfortable, safe and familiar like this was the only place you were ever meant to be. You had just about gotten over the shock of it all, your muscles relaxing and your hand coming to cradle the nape of his neck when as quickly as they had arrived his lips were gone. He hovered there a moment, his breath, still heavy with fervor, was fanning over your top lip and his eyes were screwed shut tight as though if he opened them you would have disappeared. He just needed a moment longer before the stage set collapsed. Just a second... but it was already too late.

“Fuck,” He muttered more to himself but it made you shift awkwardly on your feet anyways as he pulled away, straightening back up to his full height. You felt much smaller now as you looked up at him. “Fuck, we shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have done that.” He stammered out suddenly, eyes pleading when all you wanted was for him to do it again.

“Frankie it’s fine, really, I-“ You went to explain, your fingertips reaching out to lace in his own but he flinched away the moment you made contact, his hand retracting as he stepped back to place some distance between you with a clearing of his throat.

“I should- I should go.” He gulped back, an apologetic look flashing over his features once more before he turned to walk away. You had to choke down the sting at the back of your throat, and bite back your quivering lip as you watched him leave. You weren’t quite sure what you had done wrong but any words in protest seem to catch on their way out. You felt powerless to anything but watch it all unfurl. 

You didn’t sleep that night, thoughts still reeling from the events of that evening. You tossed and turned until sunlight poured through your curtains and you were forced to give up. You weren’t ready to admit to yourself that that was it. That you had already screwed up your second chance, your final chance. Before you were even sure of what you were doing you had the number he had given you last night dialed into your phone, the tone ringing out a few too many times before you heard him finally pick up. “Hey, uh, it’s me. Listen, I just wanted to say that I know last-”

“Hello?” But the voice that came out from the other end of the line was not one that you recognized. It was a woman. You stopped dead in your tracks, your words lodging somewhere in the back of your throat.

“Sorry, I must have the wrong number. Is this Frankie Morales’ phone?” You stammered out, your words struggling to catch up with the thoughts spinning through your mind.

“No, this is the right number. He just stepped into the shower.” The mystery woman explained. “Can I take a message for you?”

“No thats- Can I ask who’s speaking?” You asked. You could already feel tears stinging at your eyes as the pieces started to fall into place. Why he pulled away, why he ran off and left you stunned in the parking lot of a small town bar after the best damn kiss of your entire life. The best damn kiss because it was with him...

“Jeanine,” She said and quite suddenly you felt like an idiot. You hadn’t even considered this outcome. That maybe your second chance wasn’t a chance at all. That you were foolish enough to think someone wouldn’t have smartened up and realized how remarkable he was before you.

“Jeanine…” You weren’t even aware you had repeated the name until it had slipped off your tongue, your voice weak and disbelieving. 

“His fiance.” She confirmed. You had to bite your knuckle to hold back the silent sob threatening to pry its way past your lips, white hot tears now breeching your waterline and streaming freely down your cheeks. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to dislike her. She was perfectly polite- probably perfect for him.  

“Right, of course.” You shake your head, attempting to get your breathing back under control before uttering your next words. You wanted to be mad at him for making you the other woman- for letting you become the other woman. For not telling you. But you couldn’t even manage that. It was your own doing. All you had done was rub salt in old wounds and now you were left with the searing evidence. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll- I’ll call back later.” You lie before hanging up. The line goes dead and the silence that surrounds you now is deafening as you slump back down onto your bed. 

And that was it. The end of something that never even began. You missed your chance. You were too late and now you were the one who would suffer for it. For knowing what his lips tasted like on your own, knowing the completeness you felt in his arms, and knowing you would never be able to feel it again.

[ angstageddon masterlist | Ezra’s arm masterlist ]

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[christinsnow]

Marvel deaths in the future

1. BUCKY BARNES - as steve rogers is not here anymore , theres very less chances of bucky’s survival .[ moreover he shots himself in grief due to nakajuma death (in the comics) as we have seen in TFATWS episode 1]

He was eventually replaced with a heroine named Golden Girl and was basically forgotten about until Cap's thawing in Avengers #4, where it was revealed that Bucky had died in a airplane explosion. well in TFATWS he is happy finally so i think he might give up every sort of fighting and that might end  his story’s  arc.  

NOTE THESE ARE ONLY  possibilities  

 2. SPIDERMAN [ tom hollland]- Last summer, Marvel fans were horrified to hear that talks had broken down between Disney and Sony, and Spider-Man would be departing from the MCU on a big cliffhanger. Fortunately, after Tom Holland drunkenly called the companies’ CEOs, the negotiations got back on track and the MCU incarnation of Spidey will return to muLast summer, Marvel fans were horrified to hear that talks had broken down between Disney and Sony, and Spider-Man would be departing from the MCU on a big cliffhanger. Fortunately, after Tom Holland drunkenly called the companies’ CEOs, the negotiations got back on track and the MCU incarnation of Spidey will return to multiplexes.He’ll appear in another solo movie to wrap up his standalone trilogy, and he’ll also have a role in another MCU movie that’s yet to be announced. To get Spidey out of the MCU and into the Sony-verse full-time, he could be killed off in that mysterious second movie.ltiplexes.He’ll appear in another solo movie to wrap up his standalone trilogy, and he’ll also have a role in another MCU movie that’s yet to be announced. To get Spidey out of the MCU and into the Sony-verse full-time, he could be killed off in that mysterious second movie.

3. WANDA - she might die fighting villians in the next doctor strange movie in comics MAGNETO kills her . At the end of Marvel's X-Men: The Trial of Magneto No. 2 (of 5), Magneto confessed to killing Wanda Maximoff.

4.THOR - he will be replaced by jane foster in THOR - LOVE AND THUNDER but we cant talk how he ends up ..... He has actually died several times in comics continuity, and several figures have done him in. so the God of Thunder might die at the end of Love and Thunder.

5. HANK PYM -   it’s possible that Hank won’t survive much longer. A future Ant-Man movie (though not necessarily Ant-Man 3) could have a heartfelt funeral scene.

6.HAWKEYE-The primary goal of Avengers: Endgame was to mark the end of the saga that started with the assembling of the six core Avengers in their initial 2012 team-up. However, only half of those six Avengers wrapped up their arcs in the movie. Clint Barton is set to train his successor, Kate Bishop, in the upcoming Hawkeye series on Disney+, with Hailee Steinfeld being rumored for the role (and based on her dramatically resonant turn in the Coens’ True Grit remake, that would be awesome).Clint could retire to a life as a farmer with his wife and kids, but that would that would be the easy way out. The tough ending would be to gruesomely kill him off as he hands the torch to Kate.ALSO YELENA IS COING FOR HIM ......

7.VISION-Technically, Vision already had an emotionally charged death scene when Thanos ripped the Mind Stone out of his head. However, he’s about to be brought back somehow in WandaVision. One fan theory is that a grieving Scarlet Witch will warp reality to resurrect him and end up screwing up the universe as a result.This could lead to some dire consequences – consequences that will require the intervention of Doctor Strange and the Masters of the Mystic Arts – that send Vision to another early grave.

8.MICHELE JONES [ MJ]-  Mary Jane Watson-Parker was married to Peter Parker, but died of radiation poisoning as a result of constant exposure to the radioactive isotopes in his blood, her last word to him being "Go..." when he was sitting in the window of her hospital room. she does not end up like GWEN but cant say anything in this multiuverse 

These my possibilites for the upcoming deaths in mcu 

love 

peggy 

[4dtk]

Yellow

Pairing: Blind!Jaemin x Florist!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humour (a teeny bit) / Soulmate!AU where you see colours when you meet eyes with your soulmate

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident, (might be) inaccurate depictions of corneal blindness although I googled

Word Count: 5k

A/N: This work is fictional and I do not wish for any of the incidents here to happen to the boys in real life. If you are uncomfortable with reading this, please don’t hesitate to scroll past! This is a little longer and different than what I usually write too, so I hope it’s okay! I realise I didn’t really utilise the reader as a florist that much either, so apologies for that! I made a playlist for this fic too, it can be found here.

Jaemin was confused, for himself, for his soulmate, for his parents. He didn’t expect any of it when the blood runs from his head and nose, when he hears the distant wailing of an ambulance and smells the pungent odour of smoke rising from the crashed vehicle.

His eyes felt blocked but weighed light at the same time, like a fluid that’s been spread over his pupils like ointment.

Jaemin’s body lay motionless while the male attempts to peek around the accident, observing the bent metal near his injured leg and the airbag supporting his manager’s limp body.

Was he dead? It was nerve-wrecking, even when he wasn’t the one leaning over the white inflatable object; weirdly, his heart felt heavy when he noticed no movement from the man who took care of him since day one.

The man who checked on Jaemin when he’d fall down from riding the hoverboard too fast or when he pulled a nerve doing the ‘Boom’ choreography—his manager who’s there to tell him to wear his cap tightly over his head before going live with Haechan and Renjun.

It was something he remembered when he felt paramedics lift his body up onto a stretcher, recalling on when they’d laugh about it when the live ended.

Jaemin was told to regulate his breathing in the ambulance, having no choice to hope that his manager is in good hands as he follows the paramedic on duty.

He had no strength to even ask if the other was doing okay, unable to get the sight of blood staining and tainting the airbag, out of his mind.

He doesn’t think much of it, perhaps even enjoying the light feeling in his lungs and the pain in his leg reaching the maximum that his nerves turn numb.

When he hears and feels the rush of the hospital staff, however, Jaemin realises it might be worse than it actually is.

There’s a faint shout of a doctor to a nurse, and he loses all grip on his senses after, succumbing to the metallic, disinfectant smell of the hospital which he hasn’t inhaled since the start of his year-long hiatus.

“Damn, My First and Last sounds so good, hyung!” Jaemin gushes over the FaceTime with Mark, the older offering a small smile and a story that happened when they were filming the music video. It was unfortunate that Jaemin had injured his spine so close to the comeback date, but could anyone blame him for how hard he worked?

Jeno promised to show him the move he was practicing before getting the peculiar feeling in his spine and the youngest ensured that they’ll try the ‘pulling’ move on the floor where they grabbed each other’s feet.

Jaemin could feel their love, even now, as he hears Renjun’s reaction and Jeno’s voice booming over the phone. There’s a fuss over the line before it goes dead, mind drifting off as his head begins to hurt more and the feeling in his leg starts to come back.

With a team of surgeons now preparing for their new patient, Jaemin struggles to hold on to the nurse’s hand, urgency thick in the air until his ears is met with an unfamiliar voice. He lets the doctor talk to him, placing his bets on his deteriorating senses.

The members scramble to grab their things, moments of scurrying and ducking under the other’s arms, passing their manager whatever Jaemin may need in the hospital, showing their natural teamwork even off stage.

All of them pile into the car, tension lingering between the members, no one brave enough to address the elephant in the room as Jisung struggles to hold in his tears. Collectively, they worry about their member on the way to the hospital, supporting each other silently as they always have since debut.

Jeno shoots a quick text to Doyoung, informing him of the situation and the 127 members are rushing, now, as well.

“A few. Only a few of us should go.”

“Why?” Doyoung shoots back at Taeyong. As much as the leader ached to tag along, there was the current pandemic going on. The government encouraged their people to stay home unless necessary, but the youngest couldn’t let his friend suffer alone.

Haechan cuts in with a sharp tone, voice wavering just a little. “I’ll go. Let me go, hyung, please.”

Taeyong gives a shaky nod, head dipping and eyes focusing on the floor as Doyoung and Haechan leave the dorm, but not before dragging Mark who was glued to the floor at the news.

Kun’s concerned texts distract Doyoung from the problem at hand momentarily, though the oldest still grapples with the terrifying scenarios playing in his mind, laying either hand on the two trembling members.

As both groups make their way to the hospital, Jaemin remains unconscious from anaesthesia, not knowing of the panic across NCT as a whole. The chaos everyone felt contrasted with his feeling of peace on the operating table, mind drifting to thoughts of meeting his soulmate.

The thoughts of seeing colour seep into his life as he found the person of his dreams. The background would fade around them as he focused only on them, the wide smile they would don as the emerging colours added to the moment.

Jaemin’s confusion surged to an all time high when he had gained consciousness with a blur to his vision. It was glitched and unusual, the familiar black and white fading in and out.

All he could concentrate on was his soulmate. What were they doing? Did they know he’d been hurt so badly? What if he couldn’t find ‘The One’?

The questions swirled his head with the seconds ticking by, black and white fading to just black for a moment before bouncing back to the greyscale colour palette.

Within the next minute, or what felt like one, Jaemin was in his ward, the members awaiting any news from the doctor. As he makes his way out of the operating room after clean-up, he retracts from the amount of people staring back at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll talk to one of you. Ensure safe distancing, boys.” Chenle looks to his hyung, Renjun, who just sighs and rolls his eyes, taking a seat to calm his nerves as Doyoung stepped up to talk to the doctor.

The doctor takes a big gulp before speaking, prompting the oldest’s eyes to snap down to his name tag on his stark white coat.

Dr. Na. What a coincidence he’d have the same surname as Jaemin.

“I’m… afraid the car crash might’ve done a number on his head. There’s-“

The familiar rush of sirens causes the doctor cut his sentence short, though it catches Doyoung by surprise at how loud the sirens appeared to be.

“Mr. Na suffered a blow to the brain which controls his vision. The force of the crash punctured his retina and when theres a tear present, fluid can pass through, spreading between the retina and the eye’s back wall.”

Doyoung is quick to ask a question, but retracts at the hand of the doctor, watching how he removes the skin-tight gloves with caution.

“It’s… lucky that we got him here on time, but because he fell on his right, the retina might have detached faster than we expected; the left, not so much. If the rush to the hospital was a little slower, there might have been more damage to both his eyes.”

The other’s breath stops at this.

The doctor senses the shock residing in Doyoung’s body, escaping through his facial expression in short breaths.

“The other surgeons are getting him into a stable state, currently. I’m in their team and is just here to convey his condition—the main doctor who will take over his case will be the one talking to you later.”

“As lucky as Mr. Na is to have lived, you should let the boy rest for now. When he does wake up, notify one of the nurses. They might have to guide him through words as we are unsure of the state of his vision.”

Doyoung swallows the inquiring questions he had on the tip of his tongue, nodding along to the instructions before seeing the other’s figure disappear into the ward. A nurse emerges from the operating room with something in hand, following the doctor into the ward with the object.

“Jaemin’s in stable condition.” Doyoung mutters quietly, hopefully loud enough for the others to hear since he wasn’t looking forward to the next thing.

“But…?” Haechan stepped forward, seeking answers and clutching onto the other’s arm. Doyoung didn’t seem to mind, even when the squeeze was starting to hurt.

“The doctors are unsure of how his vision will turn out; there’s a possibility he-“ The silence broke when Jisung sinks into Jeno’s side, body shaking with quiet sobs. The older comforts him while Doyoung still struggles to get the next words out.

“What is it, hyung? Say it out, please!” His heart broke, seeing the younger one be like this. Haechan was always cheerful when he was in the dorm, clinging onto Taeil while annoying the hell out of the Doyoung. It was in their nature to bicker, but when he was begging right in front of him for the news of his friend, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Mr. Na is stable. Come in with caution, please.” Doyoung felt selfish as he thanked the interruption, not wanting to be the person to break the news.

The boys enter quietly, not wanting to startle Jaemin, if he was even awake.

They watch the bed Jaemin was on without words, some staring off into space while Doyoung observes the steady breathing of the boy. It was calming to see him at least cleaned of the blood, the images circling the internet plaguing Doyoung’s mind.

He was sure the fans were already informed of the accident. Lost and adrift, Doyoung hopes he can address and reassure them about the incident soon, placing his hopes that Jaemin was well even if he hasn’t woken up.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“Don’t forget to bring in the roses, we went a week without them and I don’t think I can deal with any more fussy customers.”

Being a florist while you haven’t found your soulmate was hard. You found it especially hard when you needed to arrange flowers for banquets and customers—there were colours you hadn’t learned to see and wondered if they matched each other when you started out on arranging.

You’ve learnt that there can be a handful of colour combinations, thankful for your mother who was patient enough to tell you the colour of each flower you pointed out.

“When do you think I’ll find him? Or her?”

Your mother shrugs as she snipped off the stem of a flower, throwing it away before washing her hands.

“Could be any time soon.” She whispers, inspecting the daisy she had in a hand, the yellow in the middle standing out.

Whilst she could enjoy the colours of the vibrant shop, you were still stumbling over various flowers that looked the same. Without the labels on the boxes, you might’ve had more trouble than you already had.

“You really think so?”

Your mother nods with a smile, handing you the daisy in her hand. “You’ll be asking me about colours very soon, I’m positive.”

There’s a small smile on your face at her answer, walking around the shop to check on the flowers as the crowd had died down.

You first discovered what your mother did for a living when you stumbled down from upstairs with a flu, finding hard to rest when the shop downstairs was so noisy.

It was a day before the fourteenth in February, not understanding why the place was full of schoolgirls (and boys). There were a few other older patrons, who struggled to keep their cool in the disoriented mess of the area.

Your mother handled it like a champ, with your dad occasionally coming out to help. Other than that, he’d stay out back, cleaning the flowers and making sure they look presentable.

The shipments were hours late—usually they would arrive at night the day before, so your parents could take care of the flowers before the shop opened at 9am the next day.

Black and white was something you were used to at seven years old. You assumed the world worked that way, though you don’t miss the way your mother would always ask if there was anything you were curious about.

“Dad? Do you need any help?”

He shoots a small smile, messing up your bed hair even further. “No, it’s okay. Go upstairs and rest, I’m sorry that the shop is so noisy. That’s why you came down, isn’t it?”

You nod your head, peeking around to see your mom scurrying from the cash register to the customers, her feet never resting from the busy crowd outside shooting flowers and colours, left and right.

Asters, Orchids, Bellflowers, Poppies were flowers at the top of your head when your mom asked you about the flowers you knew, but those other words the customers had shouted out still felt unfamiliar on your tongue.

“Ye-llow…?” You mumbled, looking up at your mother one weekend at twelve years old.

“Yeah, just like that. I’ve drawn suns with a yellow crayon. There are bananas and taxis as well. Do you remember sunflowers?”

“The TV show or the flower?”

Your mother grins at that, “the flower.” You nod enthusiastically, cleaning up the papers and stationary you used for your homework.

“Sunflowers are yellow, too.” A large flower comes into view, with pointy petals and a fuzzy middle.

To you, it seemed like a boring painting of black and white, but the way your mom described it made it seem like it was the most beautiful thing (“After roses, of course,” she’d say.)

“Yellow is the colour of warmth and positivity. It can feel like two different things, a comforting hug and… a laugh, perhaps.”

Your head tilted as she continued to explain the colour, giving you an exaggerated shrug when she reached the extremes of her explanation.

“It’s hard to explain colours, hun. I’ll try my best, but the feeling when you experience it for yourself? Wow. I hope you’ll have that feeling in years to come.”

And so, at twenty years old, you were going to, soon, but not in the way you expected it to go.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“You want me to what?” You ask through the phone, annoyed enough that you’ve already been interrupted from your university project.

It was vexing enough that this person had to call your personal phone, possibly finding it on the website of your mother’s shop.

She claimed that it was only ‘integrity and generosity’ that she put everyone’s numbers since the shop (and the shop’s phone line) was closed on Sundays except for patrons picking up their orders.

“Remember that dark-haired boy who came to collect the flowers from you last weekend?” Racking your brain for any memory of the boy, you struggle to match the description to a face as the person on the the end brushes it off and continues.

Your eyes soften and your features fall, however, when he speaks in a quiet voice.

“Our friend, he’s- he’s in the hospital. The flowers were meant for him… he loves it by the way. He likes the way the flowers feel on his skin, as weird as it sounds.” The male laughs quietly at the memory, getting back to the reason of why he contacted you.

“He wants to meet you.” he says quietly, not knowing what reaction to expect.

“But why?”

“He says he’s annoyed of hearing his member’s voices all day, quote unquote,” he jokes at another memory, “no, but, he wants to meet whoever did the bouquet. He wants to thank you personally, I’m assuming. Not sure why he waited a week to tell me this though…”

“Oh, okay, when?”

“Now?” He says timidly, bracing himself for an incoming argument due to the last minute news.

“He’s not creepy or anything, right?”

“Jaemin? No, definitely not. Just a little loud and outgoing—I’m not sure how he’s doing now considering his- state, though so uhh…”

Jaemin, huh? Why did it sound so familiar yet foreign?

“And- and, the same boy from last week will be picking you up so don’t worry about it.”

“This sounds like straight up kidnapping.” You whisper into the receiver, getting a buzz from your phone right after.

“What did you send me?” You asked cautiously, finger hovering over the chat as the green bar the top of your phone glared back at you, signalling that the call was on speaker.

His voice came through the speaker, reassuring you that it was not a picture of his privates. You gulped anxiously. With the amount stories online, you’d know better than to open a chat from a man who you didn’t know.

You did it anyway out of curiosity.

Cracking an eye open was a relief, seeing that the picture was only a selfie of the dark-haired boy and probably the person on the other end of the line.

“He looks like this! Ring any bells?” He asks just as the door swings open from a customer.

Holding up a hand, you politely ask the newcomer to wait as you squint your eyes at the boy in the picture who supposedly came here to collect the bouquet.

Double takes help, because the person who matched the picture was standing in front of you, separated by the counter.

“Oh… I didn’t think you’d come so soon.”

Another ding! interrupts your surprise, looking back at the chat as the photo loaded.

“Here’s another of Jaemin with the flowers, though his face isn’t in it—he insists he looks bad in the hospital gown which I agree on.”

You can sense the other rolling his eyes, wondering if the conversation was going to end.

“You’re overwhelming the girl, Hyuck, just hang up.” His voice is gentle but stern, putting his hands together in an apology after the other hangs up with an irritated “okay fine!”

“I’m sorry for him, he can be a little annoying at times.”

“I heard that!” The other fires back, though you swore you heard the beep; maybe you heard wrong.

“Donghyuck!”

“Okay, I’m going! Sheesh.”

The boy looks at you with watchful eyes, wondering how’d you react to this whole situation.

“You can’t see colour, yet, can you?” He asks suddenly.

“Wh- are you doubting my arranging skills?”

“Wait! Wait no- I’m just asking… and yes, the flowers might have been a little mismatched- but it was fine! It’s fine—I don’t think Jaemin minds.” He saves himself, two hands outstretched in surrender.

“Why doesn’t he?” You ask curiously, head tilting to the side as you lock up the register.

Your question remains unanswered, however, as his eyes trail from your face to the flowers behind you. He seemed nervous to answer that one question.

Shaking your head, you mutter a ‘never mind’ and head upstairs to grab your things and change into a more presentable outfit.

The ride was smooth, with a small exchange of what to expect at the hospital. You learn that his name is Jeno, making note of the black hair and the little mole beside his right eye, as well as his polite smile which made you feel at ease.

“Jaemin’s sweet, he’ll talk to you like you aren’t a stranger, so you don’t have to worry about being awkward.”

“He’s funny too, always making weird noises and stuff like that. Don’t mention that I’m saying all these though, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laugh at that last part, because you definitely don’t want your friends to know how fondly you speak of them when they’re absent.

When you arrive, however, you can feel your hands becoming clammy and damp, the keychain on your bag having suffered enough from your fidgeting fingers.

He’s someone I don’t know, why is it making me jumpy and jittery?

The antiseptic smell of the hospital did nothing for you, wringing your hands together and hoping it’d calm your heart down.

“She’s here, Jaemin.”

The male on the bed breaks conversation, turning to you and pointed to the flowers on the bedside table excitedly. He’s not exactly facing the door… though.

Oh.

They flow in like a rush of adrenaline, with the feeling of dizziness when you stand up too fast.

They emerge in small spots and then spread out to every inch of the room and although you’re in room with four white walls, your eyes immediately drift to the flowers you arranged for the boy and back to him.

His hair is a bright pink, I think, and his smile is brighter than the sun. His eyes look like the colourless crescent at night and he makes me feel like the colour yellow.

You recall your mom describing yellow as a warm, positive colour, her words ringing true.

Purples and blues on the other boys’ clothing, as well as a bright orange on one’s head. There was a lovely lime green cardigan on Jeno and a red flannel on another boy.

There’s notes forming in your head on the different shades appearing, the imaginary pencil scribbling and scribbling until your hand hurts and the words are messy.

You take baby steps towards the male, and although his eyes aren’t directed at you, you can feel the pull of his heart on yours.

“Hi,” you mumble softly, approaching his bed before noticing the white over his eyes.

The other members make space immediately, stumbling over each other to give their friend his privacy.

“Hey, I’m Jaemin. Not the best time to be meeting your soulmate, huh.” He grins, feeling around for your hand before relaxing as your fingers tighten around his.

“I guess not—I’m (Y/N).” You whisper, the other hand hovering over his cheek, “may I?”

You expect him to ask about what you meant, but instead he just nods his head. Jaemin was a little surprised at the contact, but trusts you either way.

The way Jaemin looks at you breaks your heart, because his eyes are soft and his smile brought down a notch. He looks at you like you’re his whole world although that ability’s been taken away from him.

“There’s minimal colours in my eyes right now. It’s so faded and it’s going to go back to black soon, I think.” Jaemin states sadly, his thumb stroking over your skin gently.

Almost. The ability’s deteriorating right now.

“I don’t deny how I felt when you walked in, though. I think the colours are beautiful, and you are beautiful. You’re fading… too.”

“Is it? Do you want me to tell you about colours, then?” Asking softly, you scoot your chair closer to him as your hands twine with the other’s.

And so, you describe to him the colours of the rainbow and the colours of his friends’ clothing.

The colours of your university project and the colours of the hospital gown on him.

The colours of the mismatched flowers and the colours of how he makes you feel.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“Babe?” Jaemin calls out softly, feeling the rustle of the sheets and the dip of the bed. He relaxes as always when he feels his hand in yours.

“Hey, Jaem, I’m here.” Whispering wasn’t uncommon between the two of you, exchanging shared stories in the night or laughing about the members in hushed tones.

It prevented the boy from getting too startled, so you always spoke with a quiet tone. Once you knew Jaemin was comfortable, you’d continue in a normal voice.

Sometimes, he’d be louder than you.

“Baby,” Jaemin mumbles softly, curling an arm around your waist as he settles in the crook of your neck, “could you describe the colours for me again?”

He feels the weight of your smile on his faded pink hair, getting comfortable before you start out with the colour he likes the most—Pink.

“Pink’s like being playful at a picnic in the summer and it’s also the colour of your hair! It’s fading, though.” You take the chance to mess it up further, getting a whine and a giggle from the boy.

“It’s also very soft and cotton candy-ish and it’s kinda a compulsory colour if you want to get a nice sunset picture.”

“Pink is really sweet, too, it feels like that bus ride home after meeting your crush while you listen to a playlist.”

Jaemin gives you small kisses as you carry on to red.

“Red’s the popular colour in Valentine’s Day, alongside pink. It’s passionate and fiery and strong; maybe like your desire for strawberry yoghurt.”

The male sits up to glare at wherever he assumed your face was, only coming back down to your embrace when you surrendered with a laugh.

“Your tastebuds are still hella weird though, babe.”

You know he’s rolling his eyes by the way he smiles, simply squeezing your hand in warning of your insults.

“Okay okay! Now’s blue.”

“Blue’s calm and free, like the ocean and the sky, perhaps. I don’t feel sad looking at blue, though it is a mesmerising colour to stare at and get lost in.”

“You’ll feel like everything’s going to be okay when you look at the colour blue, I think.”

“God, I don’t think that’s the case because of Jeno’s hideous blue plaid shirt from before.” Jaemin mumbles into your neck, moving closer to your body, as if it was even possible.

You grin at the insult to his band mate. “Oh. shut up, I think he looked fine in it.” With eyes drifting to the boy below you, you await any word or reaction from him before receiving none, deciding to head on to the next colour.

“Damn, I can’t remember much about orange, though. It’s been so long since I helped out in my mom’s shop. I’ll google.”

“What- no that’s cheating!” Jaemin giggles, smacking your waist repeatedly.

“The colour orange is stimulating and vibrant and it’s associated with sunshine, creativity and health.” You read like you would with an important piece of text while switching off the device. Green.

“Green’s very nature-ish… and refreshing! Oh! And it’s natural too, because it takes up most of the spectrum’s space of the human eye. If pink’s the playful nature at a picnic, then I feel like green would be the opposite, like cherry blossoms against a field, maybe.”

“Green’s also the colour of your fans. So it might bring you a sense of love and warmth as opposed to textbook meanings. I know it does, for me.”

“Because you’re a dedicated Czennie?” Jaemin teases with the same kisses from before. He feels you nod, “of course!”

“Purple’s also an essential colour if you want nice sunset pictures. It just fits with pink. You can still feel calm with purple but theres this urgency about it? Like it’s telling you to get up and travel instead of staying home.”

“That description was lame, wasn’t it?” Sighing, your boyfriend hums into your neck—a neutral response.

“Yellow are taxis and bananas and the colour of my phone at the moment. There’s also corn and suns and sunflowers.”

Yellow is the colour of warmth and positivity. It can feel like two different things, a comforting hug and… a laugh, perhaps.

You smile at the memory in the shop. “Yellow’s kinda like two separate things, for me. It’s like a warm hug and a loud, optimistic laugh.”

“Are you using the same description from the hospital from months ago?” Jaemin grinned for the umpteenth time that night while you replies with a laugh, loving the feel of his wide smile on your neck.

You plant a kiss on his forehead, then, the scented shampoo of his hair lingered in the air like perfume.

“It was my mom’s description! I just happen to agree with it, okay.”

“To be fair, yellow was the last of the colours I’d seen before everything went black. Weren’t you wearing a yellow dress that day?”

There’s a fond smile on your face as you both sink down onto the pillows from your sitting position, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Close. It was a top. Do you wanna see me in a dress that bad?”

“Maybe.” Jaemin beamed, with hopeful and happy eyes.

You keep quiet after that, playing with the hair of your lover’s while your head now takes its place in the crook of his neck.

“I love you.” It’s quiet and tranquil in the room, slow breaths that seem like one.

“I love you too. More than ever, Jaemin.” You remove yourself from his embrace and cup his face in your hands.

“I love you so much, I hope you never forget that.” Whispering the confession, as you always did, made the moment a tad bit sweeter and meaningful.

And while you were happy to see the boy burst out in laughter from the Dreamies’ bickering or the joke you found online, there’s going to be doubts and vulnerability.

While Jaemin’s mind turned inside out with the turmoil of this new obstacle, you were there to make sure he never spirals and falls too deep.

There were and there will be more days when he feels like the world is against him and that he feels so goddamn lost in this world where he’s supposed to see the beauty of colours, where he’s supposed to see you.

You are his rock to hold on to when the world feels a bit dizzy, as are his feet. You’re the sunshine in a dark world where black never leaves his vision.

You’re that comforting hug and boisterous laugh.

You’re his Yellow.