#this is my second halo and I am still FREAKING OUT

[aetherphobia]

Picture this, you just joined a discord call with two of your besties. You decide to casually play royale high to send eachother gifts and run around aimlessly and whatnot. You go out into the front of the castle with one of your friends and you jokingly chase eachother around because of an inside joke between the two of you.

And then, as a joke, you pull out a hammer and ironically start violently hitting the fountain lady with a hammer to "intimidate her into giving you a halo."

You have a good laugh and then actually do the fountain. You look through the fountain answer sheet and pick the correct answer for the frozen wings story (A). You skip through the dialog because nothing interesting ever comes from this part and you just graze through it. And then you see the final word in the story. And then this happens.

So now you are absolutely SCREAMING ON VC and even crying a little bit. And the moral of the story is that apparently, physically assaulting the fountain lady with hammers is an effective halo strategy. Thank you and goodnight.

[giuseppe-yuki]

naps

lando norris x ferret shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2.2k

warnings: none :)

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: lando's late night streaming causes you to be real tired the next day...

picture credits from pinterest :)

it was currently three freaking AM in your monaco apartment, but your boyfriend was not where he was supposed to be. instead of being curled up next to you in your ridiculously big bed buried under at least five layers of blankets with the ac blasting, he was in his streaming room yelling about “cream coming out of his chick” to angryginge (you supposed he was playing fortnite, and not some other weird game). for the second time in the last five minutes, his voice echoes across the spacious apartment. 

“YOU TWAT, GET OUT MY WAY!” 

it wouldn’t be surprising if you woke up in the morning with noise complaints from the neighbors, a sleep deprived lando, and a telling-off by your boyfriend’s pr manager for showing up to media day halfway-asleep. you were super tired as well, but lando seemed to unknowingly choose the second that your eyes fluttered shut to yell at the top of his lungs. rubbing your eyes, you get up from the bed, slide on your slippers, and shove your phone into your pj shorts’ built in pocket. 

as you shuffle closer to lando’s streaming room, his voice gets impossibly louder. 

“HE’S OVER THERE!! THAT WAY!!”

you think you can hear angryginge’s voice through the door from lando’s gaming headphones, which are probably turned up way too loud. 

“WHERE??? WHERE IS THERE MATE??” 

you roll your eyes, and get ready to turn the doorknob to storm into the room, but decide at the last second that it’s probably not a good idea. the creased pjs from rolling around the bed while waiting for lando to end stream plus your worn-out slippers probably made you look like a mess. thinking, you come up with a quick solution. you could crawl into the room in your ferret form- it was probably easier to enter the room without being spotted by fans on the stream and you also get extra cuteness points that would help you convince lando to come to bed. 

you crack open the lando’s streaming door for easier access and place your phone on the ground to avoid getting squished (you knew that from experiences after being squashed one too many times by your phone). after shifting into your ferret form, you slip through the crack in the door and scamper towards lando. 

the screen in front of him acts like the only light source in the room, aside from the led sign on his wall. it casts a glowy halo of light on him in the darkness of the room that makes him look ethereal. you stop in your tracks for just a moment to admire him, except the moment is immediately ruined when a shrill scream erupts from his mouth- this time cursing an opponent for killing him. it was a wonder that your eardrums hadn’t exploded yet. 

you climb up his chair and plop yourself in his lap, glaring at him with your tiny round eyes. 

noticing your presence on his lap, his eyes widen. he immediately whispers a hurried “one moment!” to ginge and his stream, and turns off his camera and microphone. 

“baby! are you okay? what’s wrong?” he asks, using one hand to stroke your fur.

the calm voice that lando was talking to you now was vastly different from the wild, screaming side of him that he showed his twitch chat. you reach your paws outward, as if beckoning for a hug. he complies, softly squeezing you into his chest and smothering you in his quadrant hoodie that just smelled like him. after years of dating him, you still got giggly after he gave you the best hugs ever. it makes you feel so content that you almost forget your mission of dragging him back to bed. quickly, you jump off of his lap and land with your four feet on the ground. lando turns his gaming chair towards you, this time to find you standing there, still in your wrinkled pjs, with a frown on your face. 

“lando,” you say slowly, “you promised you would go to bed soon! i waited at least two hours in bed! not only that, you were yelling so loud, i bet even charles could hear you from two blocks down! besides, you do have media day tomorrow, and we all know your pr manager is going to be pissed if you show up with no energy like last time!”

glancing at the clock, he realized that you were right. it was pretty late. 

he runs his hand through his rowdy curls, and flashes you an apologetic smile. “i’m sorry, i genuinely forgot about the time,” he explains. “let me shut down everything really quick.”

under your watchful eye, he apologizes for the sudden end to stream, says bye to ginge, and shuts down his pc and and monitors. you’re still frowning when he finally turns back towards you. 

“come on baby, i said i was sorry!” he exclaims, pouting. then, a grin flashes across his face. “why don’t i carry you back to bed?” 

to that, you finally crack a smile. 

once he carries your squealing body back into the bedroom, you find yourself again alone on your bed waiting for lando. he was probably washing his face and brushing his teeth, judging from the sound of running water. you pull out your phone to find to find a text from lance stroll’s girlfriend, a good friend that you made when you attended one of your first races back then as lando’s partner. 

hey, what r u doing up? i saw your online bubble on tiktok like two seconds ago, lmao! u do know we have media day tomorrow right?

you quickly text back a response, 

i was gonna go to bed early but lando was streaming and forgot about the time.. you know i can’t sleep when he's yelling at the top of his lungs. anyways, what are you doing up at this godforsaken hour???

you adjust the blankets around you, and listen as lando hums a tune from inside the bathroom. when you check your phone, you see that she has already texted you back. 

yeah girl, i get you. lance always starts raging at his monitor when he plays his video games 🙄 no but i was up because my bf was literally online shopping till like five minutes ago! like, what are you buying that is so important it needs to be bought now?? its almost four am, istg we are going to be so sleepy in the paddock tomorrow!

the sound of lando shutting the door of the bathroom makes you hurry to type back a response.

omg, maybe he’s buying you that limited edition birkin you told me you were eyeing a couple of days ago! but yeah, we should get to bed. goodnight!

after hitting send, you shut off your phone and throw it onto the nightstand just as lando climbs into bed, now dressed in a worn-in tee that looks like its seen better days and comfy pj pants. He turns off the light using the switch next to him, and places a kiss on your forehead. “goodnight!” he whispers quietly into your ear. you turn around and hold him close to you, burying your head into his chest yet again. “goodnight,” you whisper back. 

if you closed your eyes for more than two seconds, you felt like you were going to fall asleep. the sun shined brightly in the monaco paddock, but it just felt like it was hurting your eyeballs on purpose as it pierced through your shaded sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose. honestly, you didn’t know how lando did it. he looked energized and ready to go with his freshly moussed curls and bright smile, not a hint of tiredness on his face. it seemed you looked as tired as you felt, because as you walked through the paddock, not only did max offer you a redbull, but charles also tried giving you a celsius, much to the dismay of lando (he not-so-gently slapped the drinks out of their hands, as mclaren was sponsored by monster, and he did not want to cause a pr disaster). 

you stumble into the mclaren hospitality five minutes later, clutching to lando’s arm for dear life. laughing, he starts dragging you to his driver’s room, which had a comfy sofa that you could probably nap for a bit on. 

before he could get too far, oscar passes by, casting a few concerning glances at your exhausted figure shuffling behind lando. 

“err, is your girlfriend alright, mate?” he shoots at lando, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

you answer for your boyfriend. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine, thanks for asking. it’s just that lando was streaming until like, three am last night, and so i didn’t get a wink of sleep before having to wake up and get ready!” 

oscar’s face morphs into one of amusement. “lando! how could you do that to her?” he gasps dramatically in a joking manner. he then flashes you a smile. “i’m just making sure you’re all good. honestly, if you didn’t tell me that lando was streaming though, i would have assumed it was because you guys were getting  𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 last night or something.”

both you and lando’s mouths drop open. “oscar!” you exclaim, as lando throws a nearby empty cup at oscar’s head. 

oscar expertly dodges the cup and cackles and he runs away. 

lando quickly guides you to his drives room, and makes sure to get you a can of monster, which you crack open and take a sip of before promptly passing out cold on the couch. 

you open your eyes an hour and a half later, to lando softly shaking you. 

“yes?” you say, rubbing your sleepy eyes. 

“so, my pr manager wants me to head out now for the pr videos and interviews. i just wanted to let you know,” he explains.

you grab you bag and stand up quickly, intending to follow lando out the door. you didn’t come all the way to the paddock to sleep in lando’s drivers room- you were here to support your boyfriend, even if he was just recording boring videos for the team youtube channel or talking to a reporter about past race results. 

“what are you doing?” lando says, brows scrunching. “i thought you were tired? you don’t have to go with me to media day?” 

“no, i want to be out there to support you,” you counter, “besides, i can sleep later.” you let out a big yawn that kind of destroys your argument. 

lando laughs, seeing you yawn. “i can tell you are still sleepy…continue your nap, it’s okay! there will always be another media day you can come support me at!”

adamant, you shake your head. “no, i’d really like to come with you.”

your boyfriend thinks for a second, blinking his aquamarine eyes at you. “why dont…you shift into your ferret form and sleep in my hoodie? that way you can still take your nap and be there supporting me- but more like emotional support.” 

you nod once. “deal!”

that’s how you find yourself buried inside lando’s quadrant hoodie pocket as he walks through the paddock. you feel each jostle of his body as he walks through the paddock. his fingers toy with your fur mindlessly. you smell the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the slight scent of burnt rubber and oil of the circut. you surprising stay awake as he babbles on to a reporter about the updates on the car over the weekend or when he is quizzed on his top three favorite foods with oscar. it’s only when he sits down and is forced to sign a hundred fan merch when you finally fall into beauty sleep.

“OMG OSCAR???” screams lando, jolting you from deep sleep and almost deafening you. why is that lando always manages to disrupt your sleep because of his screaming problem?

you hear lando’s voice above you again. “oscar, i genuinely think i lost my girlfriend! i don’t know where she is! i checked my driver’s room and literally the entire paddock, but i can’t find her!” he says, worriedly.

is this guy serious? you think, bewildered. how can he possibly drive one of the fastest cars in the world but not remember that he put his own girlfriend in his pocket before media and pr? you think its probably because the lack of sleep was catching up to him. 

you are jostled around more forcefully in his pocket as he starts what you think is sprinting around the paddock. 

you hear oscar next to your boyfriend, running next to him. “well, i have no idea where she is either?? the last time i remember seeing her was in the motorhome where you were dragging her to your driver’s room?” 

hearing this, lando skids to a stop. “OMG WAIT?!” he shouts. you feel his hand reach into his hoodie pocket next to you. 

before his hand can touch you though, you stick your head out of the pocket and lando, who has relief written all over his face. you snap your teeth towards lando’s outstretched fingers that were starting to reach for you. 

oscar shoots an exasperated look at lando. “mate, you had me sprinting around the whole paddock. no way you forgot your freaking girlfriend was literally in your pocket.”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary

@mbappebby @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks @madkohi

[lovethestarrs]

earth angel

sam monroe x fem!reader

pictures and border from pintrest!

warnings / contains: use of y/n, some swearing, drug mentions, very feminine reader, sam being a little (a lot) obsessed, fluff n stuff, sam and reader are seniors? college? i don’t know. sam isn’t as sassy but still has some of his personality and likes as in the movie, marilyn manson mention (sorry, do love dita tho), not proofread oopsie

before interacting: i am not 18 so if you’re uncomfortable, dni or block ! (sorry 😓)

word count: 1034

do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

part two?

you were pure, an angel in human form

and sam was… well… sam. you got good grades, walked around like there was a halo above your head and wings sprouting from your back. sam was entranced by you, like you were an angel that walk among mortals and were sent here to bless the earth with your beauty. so it was surprising that you were here, speaking to him.

“i like your shirt!” you smiled, the marilyn manson shirt hung loose on him. sam was shocked, his mind went silent before he responded meekly, “uh- thanks.” he responded, lips pressed tightly together. “not a big marilyn listener but i like his girlfriend.” you giggled. “which one?” he replied back jokingly. “dita.” you replied, a mischievous smile hung on your lips. “oh yeah? yeah.. she’s cool.” he tried to seem casual but inside he was freaking out.

“see you around, sam.” you giggled before walking away, your hips swaying so deliciously and the way your hair lightly bounced and you walked. he was so gobsmacked he stood there for a second, taking in what just happened, your perfume still lingered in the air, before the bell rung, reminding him of his awaiting class.

+•.*✧

after school, sam was about to get into his car when he saw you, practically glowing and walking up to him. “hi, sam!” you stood in front of him. oh my gosh his stomach was about to fall out of his ass. “hey, y/n.” he tried to be nonchalant about it but he was absolutely panicking internally. “what’re you up to after school?” you ask him, doe eyed and so dreamy, “nothing much. probably just being bored at home.” he replied awkwardly. “you’re telling me you’ve got absolutely nothing to do?” you chuckled in response, sensing his nervousness. “how about we hang out? i promise it’ll be fun!”

now what the fuck. you, the perfect angel girl, was asking him, an emo loser, to hang out? “uh really?” his hand scratched the back of his neck. “yeah!” you quipped. “o-okay.” he stuttered. he got into his side of the car and you got into the passenger seat.

“so where do you wanna go?” he inquires. "hmm.. would you mind taking me to starbucks?" you asked so nicely, how could he refuse? "yeah, yeah, sure." you could've asked to throw him out of the car and he'd agree. he pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the street.

he approached the nearest starbucks, remembering the one his mom frequented. he pulled into the drive-thru and rolled down his window, "what d'ya want?" he looked over to you. "uhmm.." you hummed, leaning over his body to look out of the window, scanning the menu. sam was shaking, literally about to throw up. he could see your waist, your hips looked tout under your frilly pink skirt. sam gulped as his mouth went dry, trying not to stare.

"i'll get a caramel frappuccino." you spoke into the voice box, "you want anything?" you looked back at sam, his eyes darting up to you, shaking his head, "nah, I'm good." you smile before your attention adverts back in front of you, "that's all." it speaks the total and you sit back in your seat, reaching for your back to pull out your card.

sam sees you pull out your card, he wanted to make a good impression so he offered to pay, "hey, hey, i got it." scooting around in his seat, he takes out his wallet, pulling a card out. "you sure, sam? you really don't have to." you didn't want to make him pay when he didn't even get anything. "I promise it's all good," those words fell from his lips so sweetly. "daddy's money." he shakes the card, causing you to giggle.

sam didn't notice you were falling just as hard as he was, like an angel falling from heaven. when he pulls up to the window, he hands the cashier his card and hands you your drink, “thank you, sam.” you smile thankfully. “of course, of course.” he get his card back and pulls out of the drive-thru, getting onto the road.

“so where do you wanna go?” he asks, looking over to you for a moment and back to the road, tapping the wheel. “how about we hang out at my house?” you ask, looking at him sweetly, “uh- sure. just uhm tell me where to go.” he starts to stutter again, but he couldn’t help it. you just asked him to come to your house.

during the drive, you chatted with him a bit, about school and friends and stuff. you and sam had a couple of classes together, you knew him since middle school, he was always sort of quiet and mysterious, kept to himself. you were put together for a project once in eighth grade, something about american patriots. he was always quiet but he was very smart.

during high school, you noticed he didn’t seem to keep up with his good grades anymore. you caught him outside of school once, doing some sort of drug. then when he came back to school one summer, he seemed a little different, he hung out with some girl named alyssa for a bit, after a month or so they stopped. you always felt some type of way for sam. you always thought he was cute and his mystique made him so much more intriguing. so today was the day you wanted to take stuff into your own hands.

finally arriving at your house you announced, “we’re here!” grabbing your bag, cup in hand, shutting his car door. sam got out, it wasn’t as fancy as his mom and stepdads house but he didn’t mind, it felt homier in his opinion.

you led him up to the door and unlocking it, “home, sweet home.” you sigh, plopping your keys into the bowl by the door and kicking your shoes off. sam followed suit, removing his converse, slipping his keys into his pockets and waiting for your next move. “c’mon.” you motioned him to follow you, leading him to your room. you opened the door to reveal the room, walls decorated in posters of artists and celebrity crushes, a stack of fashion and girly magazines, a vanity with your perfumes and makeup, and your fluffy bed with old stuffed animals you could never bear to throw out or donate.

“ignore the bed.” you giggle embarrassed. “don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute.” sam felt a smile creep onto his face, he found you so adorable. he saw a little stack of a book and journal sitting on your nightstand, a pen placed on top, he assumed it was your diary, he wondered if you ever wrote about him in there.

“you can sit down.” you laughed on the edge of your bed, sam was still stood up, admiring your room, the details told a lot about you. he came to sit next to you, sitting a little hesitantly.

you raised your hand to his face, a finger rubbing under his eye. “sorry you have some eyeliner.” you chuckled. “thanks.” he was lost in a trance like state, he felt like he was in heaven, blessed by an angel.

you kept wiping his eyeliner, for a moment, you got lost in a trance while looking, slowly, you both inched closer, your eyes fluttered shut as your lips connected, sam’s hand moved to your waist.

after a moment, he moved away. “you don’t know how long i’ve waited for that.” he said breathlessly. “i know.. me too.” you smile, your thumb caressed his cheek. "kiss me again... please.." he was practically begging, causing you to smile, giving in, you move in closer to him, pressing your lips together, a hum escaping your lips.

+•.*✧

and there's the end! i'm sorry I didn't add a lot to it, maybe a part two? thank you for reading!

xoxo,

cherry!

[n1ghtcr0wler]

LUCKY LUKE HEADCANON

First: Shout out to Maxermixer and their awesome drawings, who are the reason this headcanon started running around in my Head

Second: This has Angel Luke x Demon Joe in it, so if you don't like that either ignore or don't read

Third: English is not my first Language

So here it goes:

-luke and the daltons die after canon (or fanon if you want)

-luke being upgraded from a soul to an angel bc of all his good deads

-the daltons from souls to demons bc of their wrongdoings and respektive kill counts giving them a high enough reputation in hell to become demons

-angels being really pale and having white hair bc they are made to be pure but not as in i am better than you but bc they simply are good people

-angels also having cold bodies as the only contact they have are the souls in heaven ,which dont have bodies so they cant feel and they normaly arent allowed to visit alive humans in order not to influence them so they can be all judged fairly

(same rule goes for demons)

-but angels wings work as their halos and give off a gentle light that is warm and the the souls can feel that warmth, its supposed to comfort them, thats why angels include their wings when they hug you

(like when you are disturbed when you realise you just died)

-demons bodies are reddish bc of their heat, bc it is hell and its hot everywhere the souls down there cant get any comfort off of it (the souls are actually from bad people)

-hell is built up of different terrains making punishing souls easier, hot/cold/dry/wet

-a soul can leave hell once they realise what they did wrong, regret it fully and actually mean when they say they changed (they have to face lucifer and he knows when they are lying)

-luke and the daltons dont have their memory but the fellings stayed, they feel they know eachother but dont know why/how/when

-luke gets thrown out of heaven bc someone accuses him of having killed someone (true but that was mad jim who wanted to ruin lukes and the daltons lives completly and luke killed him for the daltons well being not his own which is found out later)

-normaly angels lose their wings when they fall but luke doesnt bc he killed jim for someone else making him still a good person

-while knocked out on hells ground a bunch of demons find him including the daltons who then put a claim on him as they have that felling that they gotta protect luke

-they bring him to their 'house' and treat his injuries

-after luke wakes up he freaks out and runs of hiding in a hole in the walls

-(hell has a part that is frezing cold and some random patches of cold spots in these wall holes)

-luke can lay down in a way that his body is on the hot ground and his wings on the cold spots, making him fall asleep

-they find him and manage to get him to get out

-over time he gets to know everyone closer including the other bad guys he had to deal with in the canon, forming friendships

-though bc i am a lukexjoe shipper they fall in love, having some funny/cute moments bc of their feelings from their past lives influencing how they behave around eachother

-giving joes brothers the opportunity to tease him for falling for an angel

-they visit earth at some point (dont have a reason yet) were they look like how they looked as humans just in modern clothes

(love luke in a turtleneck jumper, he is still cold/joe in the leather jacket)

-at some point luke gets triked to go in the cold part of hell and almost freezing to double death as his wings arent warm enough, the daltons safe him

-the hole where he hid is becoming his napping spot as he is constantly sleepy bc of the constant warmth around him

(-luke and joe have sex at some point [bottom luke/top joe] bc i want to)

-lucifer is made aware luke is with them and wants to talk to him, as he was till then the only angel that is down there and kept their wings, he thinks luke was wrongly judged and sends questions back to heaven who then find out why he killed jim and grand him entrance to heaven again

-luke is basicly picked up and send back automaticly so couldnt even say no

-the daltons try to grab him but arent strong enough and having to watch him dissapear

-the daltons and other demons protest against them taking luke away just like that, while in heaven luke is trying to get back down again but fails

-heaven and hell notice that luke is a positive influence on the demons while not having negative influence get to him

-in the end he is allowed to go back down and so are other angels to spread positiv influence on demons and souls

! If someone wants to do fanart/ fanfic/ others, you are welcome to use this headcanon to your fullest, i would just like maxermixer for their art and me for the idea to be mentioned !

[cosmiischillin]

I am alittle bored so hey! Here are some Fun Facts/Headcanons for the characters in Twilight Town (Reminder: Twilight Town is takes place in a rebooted version of the Ruby Gloom cartoon where they’re all adults)

1. Iris is the youngest of the main 8 with Ruby being a few months older. Frank is considered the oldest being a second older than his twin Len. (Halo would have been oldest overall at 2100 but I decided to only portray her as 21)

2. Misery is a native Irish speaker though she can speak several other languages thanks to her family tree including Latin, Chinese, French, and Swedish.

3. When Skull was 13, he tried to change his name to Skull Guy but literally no one liked it so he dropped the second part of his name. Misery, Frank, and Len still call him Skull Boy from time to time to tease him since they’re older than him.

4. Ruby’s middle name is Lily which I got from Lily Munster.

5. Frank is actually Frank II. His father, Frank Frankenstein is the first. In fact. My friend said the twins names together sounded like Frankenstein (Frank) L(eN) Stein.

6. Both Frank and Len have separation anxiety due to how long they’ve been conjoined. If not near by each other for long periods of time, they get anxious and tend to lash out more.

7. Jackie was my first ever OC for anything and back then her name was Lantern. She was never gonna be shipped with anyone until recently where she’s with Len.

8. Misery has the highest kill count of the group at 666 via natural disasters and freak accidents. Frank and Len are in second place with 25 kills and will resort to eating humans to get rid of evidence.

9. Skull has never killed someone but he is capable of it as he took up marksmanship as one of his 100+ hobbies.

10. Ruby’s more monstrous side is based on Other Mother from Coraline, Nightmarionne from FNAF, Eltrich and Lovecraftian monsters, Raggedy Ann, and Wally Darling from Welcome Home!

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Earth Angel In Wing & Sweater-Town (2024)

------------

Credit for Transformers goes to Hasbro

Credit for Steven Universe goes to Rebecca Sugar

Credit for Undertale goes to Toby Fox

Credit for Hazbin Hotel goes to VivziePop

Credit for Red Vs Blue Series goes to Burnie Burns & Rooster Teeth

Credit for Halo Game Series goes to Bungie

Credit for Buzz Lightyear Of Star Command goes to Disney

----

in case some might not be able to read the words very well, I think clicking on the drawing to make it bigger might help...I'm saying this before I post this, in case it might not be big enough to read the words unless one clicks on it...

I also decided use the angelsona tag for this, because technically the Earth Angel in the drawing is suppose to be me, in both wing and sweater town.

I would of posted this on January 6, 2024….the day I drew it, but there was a bit of a problem with Tumblr it would appear…which the info about it says it was being worked on and trying to fix it.

I was feeling a bit in a sad mood some hours ago on January 6th, before I drew this drawing on the same day, but maybe I can talk about it another time.

and while I did check once more, a few minutes later…it appeared that Tumblr was back to normal again, but I decided to wait until January 7, 2024 to post this.

also there can be different reasons why some Humans and Humans who are Earth Angels, to fall under the 8th Sin…some of them being because of Other Humans and Eon-Boomer Angels/Fallen Angels. and even if I know I don't really have the power to, but if I had lost my second cat because they weren't taking to the vet on time or those who work at the vet messed up and I lost my fluffy baby because of it…

I would cause Omnigeddon…also my day was doing a little okay on January 6, 2024 and I had plan to play some video games as well, but then something had to put me in a not so great mood and so I had to go to bed to sleep it off…

well at least some other stuff that happen later after what put me in a poor mood, end up making me feel a little more better. and yeah, the one who is hiding in both wing & sweater town is suppose to be me…

ya can't really see me, only know that I'm hiding behind energy wings and a sweater because the drawing is suppose to match how I was feeling because of some some humans…

I think sleeping the 8th Sin off helped a bit, well that and some stuff that ended up making me feel better…at least I watched a few episodes of Ah My Goddess and some episodes of Sailor Moon before that thing that I saw that put me in a gloomy mood.

Alastor being able to use Earth Angel Magic, does seem like a interesting idea…the idea is that he uses the pendulum to find where I am, which is in wing & sweater town.

and I guess if I had to talk little bit of what made me feel unhappy and think as well feel like I'm under the 8th Sin during that time, it has to do with that bad mouthing about Alastor… hopefully things will work out….

and ya know, it be interesting if he could use a pendulum even in ways I may not be able to, even though it did freak me out at first when I was holding a pendulum for the first time and it started to move around like crazy…

the chance of Alastor also being RH Negative, is perhaps very VERY small…but I'm going to view him as being RH Negative in the Fanon… speaking of that, I am going to at least try to see if I can at long last, get to the whole checking my blood type again…and yeah I get your blood type is with you for the rest of your life.

but I guess it's freaky to have O RH D Negative Blood, and your own Mom has O RH Negative Blood, but where did the "D" part come from…?

and yeah I'm weird, one of my weird thoughts is that I don't want Jesus, Antichrist, and Archangel Samael to harm Mother than she was already…

and by "Mother" I mean the Omni-Mom, and by that I mean the Goddess. I can still believe in Jesus, but if he is a part of that mess along with Archangel Samael…

well I'm not going to agree with it, and he still needs to be saved from himself if some stuff I read that has to do with him turn out to be true.

also no one is gonna change my mind about believing in both God and Goddess, not even that Toxic-Religious jerk who should of just shut up when I pointed out how bad that they were making me feel. hopefully they aren't doing that to more people.

I'm going to hope other Earth Angels finally wake up to the truth, but it should be of their own free will. but in case not all Earth Angels wake up to the truth, I might as well go solo until more Earth Angels finally wake up to the truth.

even if things are a bit more better for most women and girls (even if it isn't at 100% and is likely around 99% or 98% or maybe around 95%)

but we still need to finally see that one of the problems…is that Omni-Mom was harmed as well as the Divine Feminine energy, and it took probably a super long time for her to get a bit more better.

I think when I can, I will do another drawing ship of Wasp x Lazuli (from Transformers Animated & Steven Universe), and another Mamtella drawing (Mammon x Stella's ship name), that ship name still seems like some kind of food ya eat.

even just talking/writing about that ship name Mamtella, it made me hungry…I can't help that their ship name reminds me of food. XD well me being my weird self is better than being gloomy and possibly going all 8th Sin at times…I could make a list as to what causes me to become under the influence of 8th Sin…

and once again the whole "Eveningstar" has to do with the weird thing with my Mom, and how she NEVER got Morning sickness with me, but instead got Evening sickness.

I rather be called a purple blood than a blue blood, cause at times blue blood can mean another thing…some might know very well if they had looked it up before.

so I'm glad that only some of my Ancestors were Royals and some weren't, I wouldn't be a purple blood if it weren't for both my royal and non-royal ancestors. :D

I'm a Weird Earth Angel Princess, even if I don't work 100% like Other Earth Angels and I know I'm a Defective Earth Angel.

anyway, I had to draw how I was feeling, like the feeling of wanting to go to both wing and sweater town and not come out of wing and sweater town for a while…or it could be called wing-sweater town…

and yes, I know that Flowey has pink eyes in this, it was on purpose. Sari is holding Andy from Red Vs Blue, and right next to her is Tucker's Son, who could have small bits of Human DNA even if he doesn't appear Human at all.

both Andy and Sari are right about Humans, some of them are Shisno but some of them aren't and don't act like a bunch of Shisno…

so in other words, for the Humans who don't act like a Shisno and aren't Shisno at all, it means there is still hope for Humans.

and hopefully some humans will try not to act like they are better than some who have a biracial or multiracial heritage, even if not all humans are like that…

but ya know it is still possible some are still out there, and are gonna insult some other humans and even humans who are earth angels who have a biracial or multiracial heritage.

and even if some humans don't mean to come off like it, like those who really mean it, they might not fully understand that they could insult and bring about not so great feelings to some.

I also think that even if I try to explain about it, it is likely my words will be misinterpreted…..

it wouldn't be the first time, though at least half of the time my words got misinterpreted, it wouldn't be as bad and I might be able to explain a bit better than how it first came out, so in other words some small misunderstandings are fine so long as they don't end up hurting someone's feelings in a very bad way.

but I know it is possible even if I try not to let some of my words get misinterpreted, it doesn't mean it wont still happen at times and the times that it does, there will be a chance my feelings will get hurt as well.

and yeah, it might be best that I don't get too into the whole why some are hating on Alastor, but I'm going to still hope that things work out the right way and he appears in many future episodes, well the future episodes he will appear in.

I know that in some shows, even some characters who are part of the main characters, will at times not appear in a episode but will in the next.

one of Alastor's powers is Radio Manipulation, and from the powerlisting fandom, there is a list of names that show what it is also called by…

like Radiofonokinesis, Radio Distortion, Radio Wave Manipulation/Control, Radio Frequency Manipulation/Control and just Radio Control.

even if I had that weird thing happen with one of the radios we have, which by the way I think it might only happen once in a while with me, so that might be a good thing.

and one of the other powers that Alastor has is being able to use tendrils, which is also listed in Darkness Manipulation, of course it says Applications and it has Darkness Solidification.

there is also something that says manipulate the properties of darkness/shadow.

and we could view in the episode Alastor first appears in, he was using both Radiofonokinesis and Umbrakinesis, which one of the other names of Darkness Manipulation would be Shadow Control/Manipulation, Erebokinesis, Dark Control/Manipulation, Sciakinesis and Achluokinesis and yeah also the Umbrakinesis.

and for all we know, the reason he could be so powerful is because in his human life, he was of the Nephilim Bloodline, even if not being a full Nephilim, but there are some Earth Angels who do come from the Nephilim Bloodline.

not like we can help that, we aren't our Nephilim Ancestors. and calling us (by me and others) who have RH Negative blood, and who have Nephilim Ancestors as just as evil and bad as them, is a foolish thing.

plus I can't help but wonder if Earth has been through a loop many times before, which has to do with what those Eon-Boomers and the harm it causes Omni-Mom.

like the whole "End of The World" may have happen many MANY like a lot of times before, and each time the Earth would go through a type of "rebirth" and go back to how it was before that mess happen. well hopefully that isn't true, well unless it happen in another timeline and we live in a new alternate branch of it…

I like this drawing, it might of help a bit more to get some feelings out, and yeah as weird as it might be, in the drawing, Alastor is using the pendulum to track and find a Earth Angel, which in Fanon (and Noncanon) could be seen as one of his abilities.

and even if it isn't a official title, I'm still gonna call myself The Embodiment of Weirdness. XD

well me being weird and silly is better than when I feel unhappy.

and I'm glad I feel better from how I felt yesterday, it sucked feeling like that...which I think when you have days when you feel a bit melancholy, that could be the 8th Sin for all we know...

and the best thing I think I can do when I get like that, is if maybe try to either sleep it off or maybe do some other stuff, like watching a movie or a show I like, or reading.

plus maybe gems can help with the feelings of melancholy, like you could feel that way at times but certain gems help heal it.

of course not everyone has to be open about the healing properties of gems. and I'm still keeping my gem bracelets on for the multi-purpose I use them for and only take them off when I truly need to.

I think the 8th Sin who is like the Embodiment of Melancholy, and the 8th Ring, would likely be Fanon and Not Canon in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss.

so the 8th Ring and Embodiment Of Melancholy would be in like a Fanon AU version of the two shows.

Embodiment Of Melancholy, probably needs a nice and fluffy blanket around them, some comfort food, a nice movie to watch and if they want and give permission for it, a nice comforting hug.

even if I don't like to be touched sometimes, I don't mind getting a hug if that is truly what I want.

sometimes surprise hugs where I'm hug from behind, would likely startle me and I might not like it very much...even if some might not truly get why I might not like it but maybe some might get it if they feel the same about certain surprise hugs.

I think it was around last year/2023 or maybe it was 2022, that had one of my family members startle me when they hug me from behind...

anyway my angelsona in this drawing, mentioning about being under the 8th Sin's influence, just seem to fit because well I was feeling not great before but I think sleeping off and waking up to some stuff that made me a bit happy, may have helped.

anyway I hope some like this drawing, and understand why I put my angelsona self in wing-sweater town, because it was to express how I was feeling.

and yeah even if it isn't canon to Alastor's powers, I like the idea about him using Earth Angel Magic in the Fanon.

Viva La Weirdness, The Embodiment Of Weirdness Era! XD

[madhatterbri]

Happy Halloween | C.B.

Props to the creator of this gif. May you get many candy on Halloween. ❤️

Summary: Nate Archibald is worried about his sister going out on Halloween. He should be more worried about her staying in.

Rhea's phone had been buzzing all morning with texts from her brother. Once she started ignoring the texts, he started to call her. He would often leave voice-mails. They were pleasant at first until he realized she was ignoring him. He insisted she called him back to discuss her plans for Halloween.

Finally, after fifty text messages and about thirty calls, she caved in. She hoped a thirty second phone call would ease his troubled mind.

"I'm not going to get into any trouble, brother. I promise," Rhea sighed for the hundredth time. She spun around while admiring herself in the mirror. Her light brown hair rested on her back. A halo hung above her head. White lingerie to resemble an angel covered her frame. "Besides, my plans have changed. I am not going out tonight. I'm staying in,"

"Oh," Nate spoke over the phone. Rhea could feel the relief wash over him. He cleared his throat. "I was just worried because Carter was back in town and-"

"Really? I hadn't heard. Gossip Girl doesn't matter in university," she assured him. It wasn't a lie. Gossip Girl didn't matter to her university. Students came from different parts of the world and most of them didn't know about Gossip Girl. "Besides, I have a major test in the morning. So if you could relax, I need to get back to studying,"

"Okay, I'm sorry for freaking out. Dad is gone and I am just making sure you and mom are okay," he apologized. Rhea felt slightly guilty. Nate was a pain in the ass but he wasn't all bad. He always made sure his family was well taken care of.

"Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"You are going to age horribly if you keep worrying," she joked. "Remember whag mom always said," Nate chuckled.

Her front door opening and closing reminded her that she needed to end this conversation. Nate could not hear the person that entered her apartment. This phone call would last a lot longer if she could hear.

"I'll talk to you later. Let's catch up tomorrow after my class?" She questioned.

"Will do. Love you sis,"

Rhea was the first to hang up. Footsteps slowly approached her bedroom door. The anticipation in her stomach caused butterflies. The way he looked at her always sent her to heaven.

Carter Baizen suddenly appeared at her bedroom door. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her. He lowered his eyes and took her all in. A smirk appeared on his face.

Rhea smiled at him. A red mask covered a portion of his face. He wore a red silk shirt and black pants. He was the perfect devil.

He walked towards her. She stayed still waiting for him to examine her. He stood behind her and wrapped an arm around her. His hand ran up her body.

"Well isn't this devil lucky," he whispered around in her ear. His lips nipping at her earlobe. He gripped her chin forcing her to look at the mirror. "A fallen angel,"

[skzsauce01]

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

#FridayKiss Tag Game II

Rules: post a smooch between your OCs for Friday. It can be as light as a peck or as intense as a makeout. It can be romantic or platonic or familial. As long as a smooch takes place it’s free reign!

I was tagged six hundred years ago by @zmwrites, and I’m tagging @drippingmoon, @druidx, @ashen-crest, and @drabbleitout even though it is, where I am, no longer Friday oop

I uh...I don’t yet have a lot of kisses in the series that don’t escalate hahaHA, but here’s a fun little alien-y bit from Aurora for y’all!

When the party wound down and everyone went their separate ways, Warren stumbled into the bulkhead a couple of times before he held onto Thrive on the way to their quarters.

"Are you alright?" Thrive asked him.

"Yeah." Warren laughed at himself. "Yeah, sorry. It's been a while. You're sober by now, I'm guessing."

"Just about, yes. I feel a bit inebriated still."

Warren inhaled a lungful of air through his nose and grasped Thrive's hand. "There's somethin' I've wanted to do for a really long time and I think I'm finally blasted enough to ask you."

Thrive turned to him expectantly as they reached their quarters. He peered down at Warren in amusement.

Warren rubbed his eyes and attempted to summon the courage, leaning into the wall for support. "Okay, uh...if this offends you in any way, you can just...say no. It's fine, I'm not tryin' to be labeled a screwball."

"Where is this going," Thrive asked somewhat cautiously.

"Can I…um, I've…I've always been a little curious about what it would be like…to kiss you when you're in obhelian form."

Thrive's eyebrows nearly jumped off his face in their haste to shoot closer to his hairline.

"Yeah." Warren giggled nervously. "I dunno. Is that wrong? Does that make you uncomfortable? I don't want you to think I'm like…trying to be weird about it. It's just…"

"It's a fair request," Thrive interrupted gently. "We're married, and I'm not human. It gives me great relief to know that you're not put off by my natural form, and, to be quite frank…I've hoped you would ask me this."

Warmth pooled at the bottom of Warren's stomach. "Really?"

"I didn't want to bring it up myself in case you thought it too bizarre." Thrive peered down the hall over Warren's shoulder. "I've held out hope that you would desire being physically intimate with me in any way when I'm natural. But I never should have doubted you, even for a second."

"Most people would've called me a freak and left it at that."

"I would like to make sure you're not only asking me this because you're drunk," Thrive said.

Warren shook his head. "I said it already; I've always wanted to kiss you while you're natural. I've only just now got the confidence to ask. I didn't want you to be insulted or something."

Thrive nodded, then glanced down the hall over Warren's shoulder. "Would you prefer the privacy of our quarters?"

"I mean, sure, in case this goes somewhere weird."

Thrive wordlessly ushered Warren into their quarters, locking the door behind them. The tension resulting from that action alone made Warren's heart pound hard against his ribs, doubling in speed when Thrive placed his strong hands on his hips and pulled him against his body.

Warren met him in a heated kiss, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, breath coming out ragged with each slide of Thrive's lips across his own. His knees grew weak, clutching Thrive's shoulders to hold himself upright as heat flushed into him.

Thrive nipped Warren's bottom lip before pulling his head away, fingers digging into Warren's hips as he backed him in the direction of the bed. He sat down and kept Warren standing firmly in front of him. "Ready?"

Warren nodded, brain in a haze.

The amber halo consumed Thrive, elongating his structure, stretching his hands, and he almost towered over Warren even while sitting. His eyes caught the light of the room and glittered, like billions of stars sewn into the velvety fabric of space. His face, angular and striking with shadows cutting under his cheekbones and jaw and highlighting the dimpled temples.

Warren reached a trembling hand up to Thrive's face, ghosting his fingers over his cheeks, the small bump of his otherwise flat nose, the crease of space between his eyes. He carefully cupped his jaw, smoothed his thumbs over his richly rust-colored skin. His lips were thinner than they were in human form, but they were still there, and Warren traced their shape in reverence.

Thrive's hands slid up to Warren's back, gingerly pulling him even closer. "You can still change your mind."

"No, no…god, Thrive." Warren's eyes briefly fluttered shut at the sound of his obhelian voice whispering to him. He shivered at the long hands creeping up his spine. "God, I love every one of your molecules. This"—he cradled Thrive's face again—"is literally…the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life."

Thrive unexpectedly lifted him from under the arms and brought him onto his lap, much thinner but just as powerful. Warren threw his arms around his neck and crushed his lips to Thrive's natural ones.

Soft leather against his still-sensitive skin. Warren groaned in surprise, overwhelmed with new tastes, new sensations, but all still very Thrive. He took in his unfiltered scent and nearly came undone right then and there, a sharp breath at the deeply concentrated transference of feelings between them. Thrive held him tight, enveloped him, leaned him forward almost parallel to the floor so he could wrap a single massive hand around his thigh.

And Warren didn't even realize for a moment that Thrive had stopped kissing him. He opened his eyes to find he was supported over the floor with a single arm under his back and the other hand at the back of his head.

"Baby steps," Thrive murmured, gazing down at Warren with soft eyes. "Was that alright?"

Warren, now numb with lust, nodded, his mind already far ahead of them. "Yeah. That…wow. I…"

"I don't have what you require in this form," Thrive said, chest rumbling against Warren's with every word. "Not physically, anyway. And judging by your dilated pupils and accelerated heart rate, I'm going to hazard a guess and say you would like to take this further."

"The fact that I'm rock hard didn't give that away?"

"I'm going to switch back—"

"No." Warren's breath came in quick, and he was a little concerned at how comfortable he found their current position. "No…stay like this."

Thrive's expression gained an abundance of interest in this development. "Ah." A slow smile cracked across his face. "...So the humans were right about you after all."

[supercorpkid]

Two Luthors are better than one.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Lillian Luthor x Granddaughter!Reader

Word count: 3100.

If you haven’t you can check out It’s you against the world first, if you would like a little bit more of context.

You wake up feeling almost too rested to be true. You get out from under your blankets, and you expect to see blood and dirt everywhere, instead you’re cleaned. You look at your clothes and you’re wearing your favorite pajamas and they smell like home. Home.

It feels like you haven’t stepped foot home in a lifetime. So much has happened. So much pain and sorrow have taken over you and your family. You sit back on your bed, looking around. Can you even call this home if Lena is not in it?

You have slept too long. You don’t know how many hours you’ve slept, but that doesn’t matter. Five minutes would’ve been too long.

A small part of you believes Kara. Sure, it wasn’t all your fault. How could’ve been, right? How could you have been everywhere at the same time? How could you have gone for Lena when Kara’s location was right there? Still. Still-

You feel like an exposed wound waiting for something – no, not something, Lena – to care for it. To patch it up with an assertive and unquestioning ‘this isn’t your fault’.

“Momma.” You call and it doesn’t take long for you to see Kara’s face poking at your door. “How am I clean?”

“Oh.” Kara gives you a soft smile, walking in your bedroom. “You passed out from exhaustion before we got home. So, I had to give you a shower, and food while you were sleeping.”

“What?” You furrow your brows, confused. “I can eat while I sleep?”

“Apparently.” Kara agrees with her head and touches your face with a big smile. “It’s good to see your pretty face again. You were looking really, what’s the word? Dead.”

“I think I was dead for a minute before you saved me.” You exhale, finally realizing you are glad to be alive. “Thank you.”

You throw yourself in her arms and Kara catches you, giving you a little kiss on the head, then puts her cheek on top of your head, while stroking your back lightly.

“My baby.” Kara’s voice is so full of love, she doesn’t have to say anything else for you to understand what she means.

“I’m sorry about what I said.” You sigh, feeling there’s no more anger left on your body. You’re done fighting the world completely. “I was so full of rage I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Oh, my love.” Kara cups your face, making you look at her and her blue eyes meet yours. “When will you understand that you are my heart beating out of my chest? If you’re mad, I’m mad too. If you die, I will die too.”

“Momma, I love you so much, but I-I miss her. What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t get her memories back and she doesn’t-” You stop yourself, when a tear slides down your cheek.

“Then you can’t do it.” Kara says, and you furrow your brows in question. “And someone else will try. And if they can’t do it, we will live with this.”

“How?” Your voice comes out small. Kara forces a smile out.

“I don’t know, kid. But we will.” She kisses your forehead, and you close your eyes at the familiar comfort that brings. “What you can’t do is bleed yourself dry for this.”

“But it 's mom.”

“But it’s you.” Kara’s forehead rests against yours. You cry, and she cries too. Both of your hearts are beating so painfully slow. “And I can lose the entire universe, except you, my heart. And I can tell you with absolute certainty your mom feels the same way.”

“Not anymore.” You whisper and Kara’s forehead stop touching yours, as she brings you back into her arms in a comforting hug.

“We can always ask for help.”

You think about it for a second. You think about how much you wanted Kara’s help in battle. How much you needed her fighting with you side by side, because two Kryptonians are better than one. If that is true, then two Luthors must be better than one. Your Luthor is, um, unavailable. So-

No. You could never.

No. She would never.

Right?

You snap your head up, looking at Kara. She looks back at you, knowing that look on your face. The look of an idea.

“Yes?” She asks, unsettled. You super speed through your morning routine, and Kara snaps her eyes wide open at you, waiting for a response.

“I think I’ve got it.” You run out of your bedroom but come back a split second later. You kiss Kara’s cheek with a smile. “I love you. You’re the best.”

“I-I love you too.” Kara says, still surprised by your sudden change of attitude, and you leave again. This time for good.

“I have to say I’m amazed to see you, granddaughter.” Lillian says when you land in front of her. She tilts her head, and you almost salute her off. But you don’t have time for that.

“I have important pressing matters to discuss with you.” Your answer also seems to amaze her, as she raises her eyebrows at the sound of that.

“Do tell.” Lillian looks as interested as you thought she would. You never deny her your company when she appears in front of you. Once in every other month. But this is certainly out of character, so she looks curious. You look around, to be sure no one can hear you before you start.

“Some shapeshifters kidnapped Lena. They’ve mind-wiped her and hurt her, and now-now she doesn’t remember-” You think about it for a second. If Lillian’s going to help you, she needs to know exactly what Lena doesn’t remember. But what if Lena not remembering you and Kara is exactly what she always wanted? “Me.”

“Aliens.” She scoffs in disgust, almost forgetting you too are an alien, or half of one for that matter. “Let me guess. Supergirl imprisoned them in a cell and will try to turn them good eventually?”

“Well, not exactly.” You look down. Face burning at the thought of the words you’re about to say. At the truth that is about to be confined to Lillian freaking Luthor. “I-I killed them.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t have said that faster. Or have a more surprised look on her face. But slowly she comes down from her shock.

“I’ve been working on reversing their technology, but, well, I’m not much of a scientist as much as I am an inventor of sorts.” You say, receiving an agreeable nod from her.

“So what exactly is your pressing matter with me, dear?” Lillian asks. She knows what you want. It’s pretty obvious. And it’s also pretty obvious she wants you to ask for it.

“I could use some help.” You wait a beat. “Your help.”

Lillian’s nod is so tiny, if you weren’t staring at her with your undivided attention, you would’ve missed it.

“Do you still have your lab at L Corp?” She asks and you shake your head, agreeing. “What are we waiting for?”

It’s all she has to say for you to fly to L Corp with her. You look at Lena’s office to be sure she is there, before walking into the building.

“Oh, Mrs-Mrs. Luthor.” Aly shuffles in her chair uncomfortable, and you listen to her heart beating terrified and almost out of her chest.

“Hey Aly, Lillian and I have some, um, stuff to work on in my lab. You know the drill. Don’t let anyone interrupt us.” You ask and she agrees with her head, eagerly.

“Should I tell your mom-”

“No!” You stop her, before she’s half finished. “Please don’t disturb my mom. It’s all good here. Ok?”

“Of course, Miss Luthor-Danvers.” She agrees and you make a mental note to tell your mom, when all of this is over, to give Aly a raise. You thank her and make your way to your lab, with Lillian right behind you.

When you open the door, you startle yourself by the look of the place. You don’t remember the lab looking this wrecked ever before. There are cans of red bulls everywhere. Broken parts, and oh yeah, you punched a hole in your working table. Also, the amount of blood here is absurd.

“I see you’ve been working through mental breakdowns-” She pushes one can with her feet, almost too gracefully for the action itself. “Sleepless nights and-” She stares at some blood stains on the floor. “Wherever that blood came from.”

“Me. Mainly.” You point out, not entirely embarrassed by the truth of what she’s saying. You pick up your chair on the floor and point to the main computer. “You can start looking at the alien tech while I try to clean up the place a little.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Working with Lillian is not like working with Lena. It’s methodic, barely satisfactory, and it doesn’t leave space for any chat or contribution. You don’t care. You’re not looking for fun, but for results and as long as she gives you that, you don’t mind the deafening silence.

“How did it feel?” Lillian asks, after maybe two hours of uninterrupted silence. You raise your head from the new metal halo you’re making. “To kill them?”

“I don’t know.” You answer, truthfully. “I was dying with them.”

“Of course you were.” Lillian says like that’s the answer she was expecting to hear. Like hearing you had killed someone made no sense, and now with this little piece of information it all makes sense again.

After what it feels like another two hours, Lillian looks back at you with a nod. “Ready for testing.”

“Okay.” You pick the halo you made and transfer the new coding system she created to it. “I’ll make myself forget something with the mind wiper I invented and then try to bring that memory back.” You explain, but it feels stupid. It is self-evident the entire experience. “I guess I’ll forget my uncle’s name and you can remind me if it doesn’t work.” She agrees with her head. “Bye Lex.” You use your memory wiper, forgetting whatever his name is. Then you grab the halo, placing it over your head. “Ok. I’m ready.” Lillian presses a few things on the computer and nods at you when it’s over. “My uncle’s name is-”

Nothing.

“It didn’t work.” You sigh. Exhausted. “I don’t know his name.”

“I think I see the problem.” Lillian resumes working on the computer, and you wait.

“What is it?” You ask after a while, because not remembering is bothering you. “His name, I mean. What’s his name?”

Lillian turns her head back at you, to look at you from the corner of her eyes. “I don’t think not knowing will harm you more than doing so. You’re better off without this information.”

Ok, then.

“Done.” Lillian says and you do the entire process again. You sit on your chair, after erasing someone else’s name from your mind, and you sigh before putting the halo on.

“I hope this works.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “I miss her.”

Her eyes are filled with something that can only be described as pity when she looks at you again. Lillian blinks at you, trying to ignore your feelings. You swallow them down too. You put the halo over your head and give her a thumbs up. She turns to the computer again.

“Miss Finnick.” You say absolutely certain this time. A smile comes up your lips and, like it hasn’t been beating for all this time, your heart races on your chest, beating into your ribcage. Thank Rao. And Lillian, you guess. “It worked.”

“Luthors are geniuses, after all.” Lillian agrees with her head, and that’s all. She walks to the lab door, and you furrow your brows. “I think you can take it from here.”

“You’re not going to stay? You can tell her you did it all yourself and-”

“There’s no point.” Lillian stops you. “I won’t get any form of appreciation. And I don’t think she would trust something I made.”

“Well, she doesn’t remember me. She might not trust something I made too.” You say and Lillian gives you the closest thing to a full smile you’ve ever seen on her lips.

“Darling, look at your face. Lena might be distrustful of people, but no one is immune to your charm.” Lillian tilts her head, clearly saying this conversation is over. “Granddaughter.”

“Grandmother.” You salute her off, and Lillian opens the door of your lab. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t answer. You nearly repeat yourself, but she closes the door. She heard you. You’re sure.

Less than a minute after you called her, Kara is knocking on your lab door. You let her in with a smile, and call Aly asking her to send Lena to your lab without mentioning your name. Every second before Lena arrives is filled with anticipation and Kara has to hold you, so you don’t fly away, unable to hold yourself down.

“Listen, baby.” Kara whispers softly. “I’m sure it will work perfectly, but if it doesn’t-”

“Then we’ll figure out how to live with this.” You look up to her and she smiles at you.

“We will.” She repeats.

You hear the click on the door, when the L Corp id is accepted. You hear when the door unlocks. You watch the handle slowly opening. And what it feels like a lifetime later, you watch Lena coming in. You wait a beat for the expression on her face to reveal something. Anything. Love, hate, care, unfamiliarity. You would take anything. But Lena’s expression is unreadable.

“I’ve been wondering when I would see you again.” Lena says, directed at you. She apparently saw Kara after. “I suppose I have some thanking to do.”

That’s all. The silence lingers for another entire minute. Was that a thank you?

“But now, I’m dazed as to why and how you’re here in one of my labs.”

“It’s my lab.” You answer, taking your id card from your pocket and showing it to her.

“I suppose you’re right.” Lena agrees with her head. She takes something out of her pocket too. Looks at it for a few seconds, before showing it to you. “It’s you.”

It’s a picture of the three of you together. Old enough, but still not so old you would be unrecognizable. You were probably ten or eleven, and your faces are all smushed together, and all your smiles are so large you wish you would remember what made you guys so happy.

“How is this possible?” Lena asks, and you finally see it. Your mom, behind the façade of the strong professional CEO peeking out. And she is scared. She walks a little bit closer to you. “Was it-” She points at the large scar on the side of her head.

“No.” You say, and Kara pats your back encouraging you to say more. You breathe deep trying to calm yourself. “Alien tech, actually. I can explain it to you now, or…” You go to your table and grab the halo. “After we bring your memories back.”

“Oh.” Lena furrows her brows. She looks at the picture one more time, almost as confirmation. Like the picture is telling her that she can trust you. She goes to where you’re standing and sits on the chair you’re pointing to. You put the halo on her head and move to your computer.

“It’s Kara, right?” Lena asks and you stop looking at the computer, to look behind you. Lena is looking at your momma, who’s staring at her from across the room. Kara agrees with her head vividly. “Can you, please, stop looking at me like that? It’s, um, distracting.”

Oh great, she doesn’t even know who Kara is and already wants to sleep with her. Yes. That sounds like your mother alright.

“Sorry.” Kara’s face blushes completely. “I haven’t seen you in a long while.”

“Four days hardly feels like too long.” Lena says, and you smirk at her.

“Yeah, you clearly don’t remember anything.” You look back at your computer. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Lena says and you agree, doing exactly what Lillian has done. Lena is zoomed out for a few minutes, and you and Kara just look at her, patiently waiting to see if it worked.

You only know it worked when Lena looks at you, eyes full of tears, and she throws her arms around you so hard, even you with your super strength can feel it.

“I missed you so much.” You say, crying silent but happy tears, and you feel Kara’s arms around both of you. Lena kisses your forehead so many times, it feels like she's trying to make up for the past few days when she wasn’t around to do so. She only stops to kiss Kara’s mouth, also repeatedly for a few times, and you smile, between your tears.

“You saved me, babygirl. You saved me.” Lena says so softly, your heart swells on your chest.

“Not before they wiped your memories, though.”

It comes. As natural as the daylight. The patch, the care, the healing. Everything you were expecting, it comes.

“That was not your fault!” Lena says, assertively. And if you weren’t crying already, you would’ve started now. “Hey, baby-” Lena holds your face in her hands and smiles at you, so fondly there’s no way she doesn’t remember everything about you. “You did the impossible. You saved me, cared for me, and now you brought my memories back.”

“With Lillian’s help.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t take away everything you have done.” Lena wipes your tears and holds Kara’s hand lovingly. “I’m so proud of you.”

“She almost died to save us.” Kara adds, so Lena understands all you have done.

“You have to stop almost dying.” She begs, between tears, and you smile.

“Well, like Bukowski once said, ‘you have to die a few times before you can really live’.” You smile at her.

“He didn’t mean literally!”

“Rao, you two are such nerds I feel bad about getting in the hug and lowering the IQ of the hug.” Kara says and Lena chuckles, pulling her closer and kissing her dearly. “We’re fine.”

“We are fine.” Lena agrees.

You breathe in their words. You let them go inside of your body and let them fill you, head to toes. You’re fine. You’re fine. You hug Lena, smelling her familiar scent and you smile. You are fine.

[unmaskedagain]

Rate this (Trust is Hard to Come By)

Its six am here and I just got to work. And am now writing a drabble at my desk. Again tweaked prompt a bit. Oh and I just realized that based on this and my last few “drabble” that are long that some picture books… I don’t know what a drabble. Or least I know it doesn’t apply to what I usually write.

No one would who or what had caused the akuma this time. However, when a thirteen-year-old superfan of Ladybug got Akumatized, everyone knew it.

A loud voice boomed in the ears of all the citizens in Paris, “Beware Paris, I am the Gardener, protector of the Loveliness. Those who have failed our Queen Ladybug will be revealed. A number you shall be given on a scale to 100; the higher the number, the more trust the Queen has in you. Low numbers have failed our Queen, betrayed our queen, betrayed the loveliness, and will be punished!”

“Loveliness,” Adrien asked, already preparing to make a break for it to transform.

           Unaware that Marinette decided to wait for a bit. Some lessons needed to be learned the hard way.  All the kids were at lunch and seemed to be enjoying the day until the alert happened.

           Max pushed his glasses up, “A group of ladybugs is called a ‘loveliness of ladybugs.’. Gardeners love Ladybugs because Ladybugs protect their gardens.”

“Cool!” Kim grinned. “We get to see how much Ladybug digs us.”

           Alya preened, “I’m at least a 90.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m so going to live stream this.”

“I think I’m like an 80, dude,” Nino smirked.

           All the kids gave their guess; most figuring they were at least in the 70s. It was Alya who joked, that Marinette probably had a ten.

           The others agreed; thinking the girl had been such a bully lately, and so mean to Lila.

           Marinette overheard them from where she, Chloe, Kagami and their new friends sat. A smirked spread across her face. This would be good.

           A blindingly flash filled the cafeteria. When it was gone, all the kids had numbers above their heads.

           One by one the excited grins on the students of Bustier’s class faded.

“A two,” Alya paled. “How can I be a two?” A dark ugly red 2 floated above her head. She touched the number and words appeared next to it: Warning: Disloyal. False friend. Bully. Anger control problems. Easily swayed. Bad journalist… etc.

           Nino frowned, “I got a four.” How could he have a four? He was carapace. Ladybug had chosen him herself. Or at least she had. He hadn’t gone Super in over a year. Was that when Ladybug lost her trust in him?

           He touched the number. His warning said: bad friend. Disloyal. Bully. He touched it again before he could read any more.

           Kim had a five. Alix had a three. Mylene had a seven. Rose and Juleka had 10s. Ivan had an eight. Nathanial had an eleven. Max had a six.  All were in the red. All had similar warning signs.

           Adrien had frozen in his seat when he saw his number. A 14. How could he be a 14? Why did Ladybug barely trust him? They were partners, friends, maybe more one day. But how could they be any of that she didn’t trust him.

           He touched his number. His warning sign read: Naïve, Spineless, pushy, Bad friend, and, in bold letter, COWARD.

“We should go,” Max whispered. “People are staring.”

           And sure enough they were. Most of the student body had numbers in the 30s or 40s, it was respectable seeing as they barely dealt with the hero. However, this meant it was easy to find the kids who ranked so much lower.

           Slowly suspicious eyes fell on Bustier’s class. What had they done, most wondered. Whatever, it was they knew it was bad. Somehow the students of Bustier’s class had hurt Ladybug. And as far as the rest of the school was concerned, and those watching from Alya’s livestream, if Ladybug couldn’t trust them, they couldn’t either.

           Marinette watched with cold eyes as her classmates and ex-friends scrambled to rush out of the cafeteria. Still she kept a smile on her face as one by one student came up to thank her for whatever she had done for Ladybug; for being such a good friend to the hero.

           A glowing, bright beautiful emerald green 92 floated above her. It was the highest number anyone had seen so far. Her words attached were less of a warning and more of brag: Loyal, Honest, Good. Trustworthy. Caring. A great friend. Hardworker. Heroic. Brave. Then her warning was: A bit too insecure but working on it.

           Aurore beamed at her friend, livestreaming from her own phone to her new Bugout. She had a neon green 70 above her head. Her words: Honest, Hardworker, loyal, good friend, amazing journalist. “Everyone post a pic of themselves with the number above their heads; it’s blowing up Twitter.”

           Chloe gave everyone smug grins, as she had the second 86 above hers. Her words: Brave, strong, loyal, good. A great hero. A great friend.

Kagami had a 72. Her words: loyal, confident, headstrong, good, good friend.  Marc a 67. Ondine a 66. Claude a 71. They all had similar ones to Kagami.

“You’re in Bustier’s class, right, Marinette?” A girl who had come to thank Marinette had asked. Her question drew attention from everyone. “Are you going to be safe there? With them?”

           Claude frowned, “Maybe you shouldn’t go back there.”

           It took a lot of reassurance to get her friends and even quite a few of the other students who had been in the cafeteria to allow her to go back to her class. Even then, Marinette found Ms. Mendeleiev, who had a solid forest green 71 above her head and had a bit more pep in her step that usual, escorting her and Chloe to class.

           Students in the hall moved out of Marinette way as soon as they saw her coming, a look of awe on their faces. The bluenette couldn’t find the pink blush that crept on to her face.

           They knew they had gotten to Bustier’s class when they saw the red glow emerging from the room

           Alya couldn’t believe it. How couldn’t Ladybug trust her? She was Rena Rouge. Or least she had been. There had been a new Fox running around with Ladybug, lately. Rena hadn’t been seen in over a year. Still, Alya ran the Ladyblog. Alya thought they were friends. But how could that be true with a 2 above her head. And she wasn’t a bully or disloyal.

           The rest of the class had a similar mindset. Even Bustier, who had a three, had a sorrowful look on her face. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong.

           When green glows entered the room, they all noticed. Mouths dropped.

           Ms. Mendeleiev with a 71, they could understand. She was a great teacher, no one could deny it. The beautiful blond Chloe they could sort of understand. She had an 86; maybe she had done more good as Queen Bee than they knew about. Marinette though? Their minds just couldn’t compute.

           How could Marinette have a 92?

           They read the words attached to her and Chloe’s numbers with disbelief.

           Said girl thanked Mendeleiev who had taken to blatantly staring at Bustier with distrust. It occurred to Mendeleiev, that the younger teacher did have an absurdly high number of Akuma transformation from her students. When Mendeleiev and told everyone what she had seen and realized; most of the other faculty would begin to keep a close eye on Bustier and her class. Something just wasn’t right with that lot.

           Marinette and Chloe made their way to the seats in back. The green above their heads looked a halo.

           Alya wanted to scream. “Why does Ladybug trust you?” She asked the girls.

“She’s Queen Bee,” Marinette pointed at Chloe. “A loyal ally of Ladybug.”

           Chloe smirked, “Don’t you remember that it was Marinette who first got you that interview with Ladybug; the reason your blog became as popular as it did?” She asked reporter. “Marinette’s Ladybug’s friend.”

           Any scathing thing the students had been thinking to sneer at the girls died on their lips. Marinette was Ladybug’s friend. They knew Marinette knew the hero but never thought about how close they were.

“Why do think Ladybug stopped giving you interviews?” Chloe leaned back in her seat. A euphoric feeling filling her. “She only started working with you in the first place because she knew you were Marinette’s bestie. Once that changed, well… Ladybug just didn’t want to work with you anymore. Something about Journalistic Professionalism. How is your website doing by the way? I haven’t checked in a while. I normally use Aurore’s Bugout blog. Ladybug endorses it, you know?”

           Marinette could have kissed the blond. The devastation on Alya’s face was finally karma for all the nasty texts she had sent to Marinette before she change her number.

           Nino pulled his girlfriend into a hug.

“She read those texts you sent me by the way.” Marinette sent them a cold smirk as horrified looks overcame their faces. “Every last one. She was so disappointed.”

“You showed her?” Rose whispered. “How could you show her?”

“Why not?” Marinette shrugged. Rose hadn’t sent as many mean texts as the others in class and weren’t all that mean; just accusatory and claiming that she refused to be friends with a Bully. “I trust her. She trusts me. I even sent her videos of what a day in our class has been like lately. Ladybug got to see and hear everything personally. She has so many concerns about the goings on in this. She’ll be going to the school board with the videos.”

           Bustier paled. She knew the students had gotten a bit out of hand but surely they weren’t that bad. They were just kids after all. (The teacher would get her answer a week later, along with a pink slip.)

           Alya sobbed as she remembered everything she sent Marinette. How could she know Ladybug would read them? No wonder Alya got a 2. Ladybug probably hated her. “I only sent that because you were being such a bully.”

“Yeah,” Alix hissed. “It’s not fair. You were being such a freak about Lila!” There were nods.

           And as the old saying goes, speak of the devil, and the devil…

           Lila had taken her sweet time getting to school that day. She had lied to her mother that it was closed for the morning because an Akuma. And it was just her luck that one would appear. She had stayed in bed all day, earphones blasting music in her ear, wondering just how she’ll amazing her classmates that day. It felt great to be adored.

           When Lila got up to leave for school, she looked in the mirror and saw a dark, blood red glowing Negative 51 above her head. She shrugged and left her apartment. Earphones still in her ears. A happy smile on her face.

           She didn’t notice the shocked and disgusted looks on people’s faces as she passed them. Or why a mother picked up her a child and ran in the other direction. Lila didn’t see the brave man who reached out, with shaky hands, and touched her number as she passed by. Nor she see the People taking pictures of her and her warning signs. The photos went viral almost instantly, everyone wanted to know just who was the girl with the only negative number in all of Paris… As far they knew.

           When Gabriel Agreste saw Lila’s image on the web, he ordered Nathalie to sever all connections to the teen girl and release a statement making it clear the company had no idea just what Lila Rossi had been capable of. Afterwards, Gabriel wondered what Lila had done to earn such a dramatically low number.

           Gabriel himself was at a respectable and average 30. While Nathalie was at solid 34. Decent not too green numbers. Though as Hawkmoth, they were both an Ugly negative -2. He knew he was a Supervillian; Ladybug regarded him as a bad guy. But she seemed to regard Lila Rossi as pure evil.

           …Maybe Hawkmoth should sever his connection to the Italian girl as well.

           Lila arrived at school, just at the end of lunch, students had just started to leave the cafeteria for lunch. She didn’t notice that students stopped in their tracks to stare at her. Or the teachers with horrifying and calculating looks on their faces. She didn’t seem Damocles’ pale and rush off to call her mother.

           She didn’t notice anything. Lila just smiled pleasantly; having decided to go with a Prince Ali story that day. Maybe that he asked her to marry him. She’d be the envy of all the girls in class.

           However, when Lila got to the class she did notice the shocked looks she got from her classmates. But not the cold smirk on Marinette’s face.

“What?” Lila asked looking around. “Did something happened? Oh, no is the Akuma still around? How awful!”  She said fighting the smile off her face. Hopefully Ladybug was getting her ass kicked, she thought.

           Alya dropped her phone. Negative? How could Lila be negative? How could she have such a low negative number at that?

           Everyone in class read the giant warning label attached to Lila Rossi’s number: Liar, backstabber, nasty, bully, untrustworthy, manipulative, rotten, villain, horrible person; the list went on and on. However, it was that shook them to their cores: Evil. Not bad. Not awful. Evil.

           Alya collapsed against her boyfriend, “No. No. I didn’t know. I swear.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Nino comforted her. “None of us knew.” There were nods from the other students.

           Marinette and Chloe looked at them with narrowed eyes because: What the hell.

“Except I told you she was a liar,” Marinette glared at them. “You didn’t listen. You turned against me… for her.”

“You turned against Marinette,” Chloe said slowly. “The girl who did everything for you. And for what? A few glittery stories and false promises?”

           Adrien closed his eyes. Was this why Ladybug distrusted him? Because he didn’t side with Marinette like he knew he should’ve. Plagg had warned him he was wrong. But he just didn’t want to risk losing all his friends like Marinette seemed to be losing hers.

Marinette looked at Rose, “Now I want you think again about every text you all sent me because of Lila Rossi.” Once again the students turned pale. They had been so mean, so harsh, so unbelievable cruel to the girl that had been so dear to their hearts. “Now I want you to remember again that Ladybug saw them.”

           Rose was the first to break out in tears. “I’m-I’m sorry!” She sobbed and struggled to find her words. She had disowned one of her closest friends for a villain. “I’m so sorry!”

           Other students were in the same boat she was. The fiery Alix was had been contemplating going on another tirade against Marinette when Lila walked in, felt her anger be snuffed out a like a campfire in a thunderstorm. The pink haired girl remembered helping lead the charge in showing Marinette what it was like to be bullied; tripping her, ripping of her homework, shoving her. What she done? Kim had been crushing on Lila hard felt crushed. Marinette had been since friend since pre-k, and he just… left her.

           Lila looked honestly confused. She had missed something, and it was big. “What’s going on?”

           Nino glared at the girl; his eyes red, tear streaks his face. “Those numbers tell the world how much Ladybug trusts you. Or how much she doesn’t,” He said darkly, thinking about his own number and his actions against the girl he once called his best friend. “And why.”

“The lower the number,” Adrien added. “The less she trust you.”

           Chloe leaned forward in her seat and sent vicious smirk to the Italian girl, “And guess who has the only negative number in Paris.” She teased. “Besides Hawkmoth, but at least he was smart enough to hide. You’re trending by the way.”

“No!” Lila said, looking around desperately, but all she saw was cold stares. “No!” She pulled out her phone, and sure enough the name Lila Rossi was trending. Her picture with the giant negative number above her head seem to be everywhere. “This can’t be happening! How can this be happening!”

           Marinette stood up, “Because you’re a bad person. You’re mean and you’re cruel. And worst yet, you dragged everyone down with you.” She said. Her voice was righteous or angry. It was like she was stating a fact from a history book. Marinette looked over every single one of her ex-friends, “Ladybug will never trust you again.”

           The bell rang.

“Time for class,” Chloe sang. “Maybe you guys will finally learn something.”

[deepdarkdelights]

Content Tag Game!

Thank you @yoongsisbae for tagging me! I love Handshakes of a Lifetime, by the way, it feeds my need for OT7 wonderfully 😫💜

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

Oh boy, okay: Twilight, Black Butler, Attack on Titan, My Hero Academia, Teen Wolf, Young Justice, Batman Arkham Knight (video game), Marvel, Once Upon A Time, Narnia, Doctor Who, Rise of The Guardians, HTTYD, Fable (video game series), Percy Jackson

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

BTS 💜

3. how long have you been writing?

Okay, this is kind of weird, I wrote my first fanfiction when I was nine but never published it, when I was twelve I began posting to Quotev and Wattpad so I would say...eight years? I refuse to look back at either accounts because my writing was horrendous...I was a child.

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

At this point in time, Tumblr and ao3.

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

Dark / Yandere / Horror. Anything that would make you freaked out I guess 😅

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

Uh, a bit of both? I usually have an idea of what I want to happen in a story so I have a vague outline, but as I am writing I tend to add more things and branch out from the plan. When I first started writing and posting to Tumblr, I used automatic writing and was a full-fledged pantser.

7. one-shot or multi-chapter?

If I had to choose, one shot. I feel less tied down and not as pressured to write when it comes to a one-shot. I would like to make a multi-chapter story one day though!

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

I like usually something longer, so anywhere from 6-10k is good for me.

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

Actually, 10 Seconds is my longest story because it has multiple chapters. At this point in time, it is 38,250k.

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

Hmmmmm, probably Predator. It was my first fic after the end of The Bouquet Series and I got to flex more of my creativity and relax with it. It was fun to play with more classic horror tropes as well.

11. favorite request you’ve written and why?

I don't really take requests, I did ask for help in writing Tae's fic for The Bouquet Series and I had two asks that suggested an actor element and that was how Cut was made! So, that 😂

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

Hm, the concept of time is rather prevalent in a lot of my fics now that I think about it. Weather and location are reoccurring, I like to write scenes in forests or scenes with rain. I think another common theme is not to trust grandmothers as funny as that is, in two fics we have had grandmas with bad intentions! Also, references to good and evil, Hades and Persephone, Adam and Eve, temptation, as well as predator and prey dynamics.

13. current number of wips?

Three! One is currently being written, and the other two are in the planning phases.

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

(1) It's fucking long 😂. I always go in with a plan to write something shorter, 8k max, and I always end with a fucking monster of a story. I also tend to overexplain, I think. (2) A lot of my writing is describing an action, facial expressions, scenes, and inner monologue. I think that is my way of trying to immerse readers or make them see my exact vision. But it can be pretty tedious and probably boring to read. I need more dialogue too, I feel like I spend too much time showing instead of telling. (3) Sometimes I think I sound like a high and mighty asshole like I am trying too hard to be profound or something so I try to dial it back a bit.

15. a quote you like from a published story.

"He could tell she had injured her head as well, scarlet drops of blood had streamed down the contours of her face and a pool of blood had formed beneath her sprawled tresses. She looked like she had a crimson halo beneath her head, carving its way into the soft, white snow under her. She was ethereal, like an angel that he had found just after they had been dropped from heaven. Forever resting, forever beautiful, and forever young." (The Stranger)

16. a quote from an unpublished story.

"Loving you has been the one pain I always want to endure. Being with you sets my heart on fire, it makes my muscles ache, it makes my lungs burn, and everything so much more complicated. But it’s the best brand of pain I could ask for.”

17. a space for you to say something to your readers.

Hi! I hope you enjoyed learning more about me and my writing if you stopped by and read this! I have been having a tough time writing as of late, but doing little things like this has made me very happy and has made me want to write more often! I am still working on my next fic, progress is going a little slower though. School starts soon too and I am going to be working two jobs and hopefully going back to cheerleading. So let's spend as much time together as we can before I get busy again! I am still aiming to write during the school year so wish me luck! Thank you for reading 💜

I tag: @chummywchimmy @chimchimsauce @chaoticpuff17 @sinning-on-a-sunday @celestial-moonlight @unfurlingtwinklingstarx @scribblemetaetwo

[stillebesat]

Catch Me (If You Can) -Part 1

December Drabbles Day 17 Sanders Shorts: Remy  Sanders Sides: Logan  Blurb: Remy would not allow himself to be seen as needy and helpless in front of the general masses. He had an image to uphold. One of perfect health, snarky comebacks, and general sassiness. He didn’t get sick. Fic Type: Sick!Fic, Guardian!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Sickness, Fainting, Mentions of Religion Taglist in reblog. 

He tried to push open a pull door. That’s how Remy knew he was in trouble. 

“Gurl. Seriously?” He rasped, wincing at how his voice sounded like he’d been stranded in the Sahara Desert for twelve years. 

That wasn’t good. 

He needed to sound perfect. Perfectly uncaringly carefree that is. No one needed him sick. No siree. No. Remy would not allow himself to be seen as needy and helpless in front of the general masses. He had an image to uphold. One of perfect health, snarky comebacks, and general sassiness. He didn’t get sick.

The fact that the words ‘PULL’ were dancing right in front of his bloodshot eyes and he’d still tried to push open the freaking door was beside the point. 

Remy swallowed in a failed attempt to soothe the fire burning his throat to a crisp as he drew up his flagging energy to pull open said door. Pushing would have been so much easier. Taken less energy. Energy Remy was barely managing to keep above empty at the moment. No, if the cool glass door had only allowed him to let his weight fall against it in order to gain access into the local cafe that the interwebs claimed had a cure-all chicken based chili that could fix any illness within the hour, they both would have been much better off.  

Hopefully this was more of a fifteen minute cure. Remy would be spending the last of his money on this soup. He didn’t have an hour to feel better. Not after being laid up in his closet sized bedroom for the past two days with nothing but water in his apartment. He had places to be, a midterm exam to nail and a delightful after party to attend.

Adjusting his sunglasses, Remy walked-he did not stagger!-inside and paused to take in the place as the first nauseating wift of eggs and bacon hit his nose.

Quaint. 

That was the first word that came to his spinning mind. A quaint little cafe that practically screamed fifties country diner. Warm. Inviting. Probably run by a white-haired grandmother who adopted all the college kids as her precious grandchildren and piled their plates high with food to ensure that they got a ‘proper meal.’ 

At least that’s what he thought normal grandmothers did. His old hag had lived off of bread and butter for so long Remy doubted the creature masquerading as his granny knew other food existed. She certainly hadn’t when he’d been forced to stay weekends there as a kid. 

Focus.

Remy tugged at the collar of his jacket, already feeling sweat running down his back and prickling on his forehead. Too Warm. Grandma needed to turn on the AC. 

Focus.

There were far more of his peers hanging out here than he’d expected, doubling vision to be ignored, and he did not want to make a fool of himself by throwing up two steps inside the building. 

Remy took a shallow breath to avoid smelling more eggs. This soup better be heaven sent, because if it smelt anything like whatever was currently cooking...he doubted he would be able to keep it down.

“--lp you?” 

Remy blinked, lowering his sunglasses as he turned to the singular cadentic voice that cut through the buzzing in his head and promptly forgot that his lungs worked. 

If the soup wasn’t angelic, the help certainly was. 

Tall, lithe, with sharp sapphire eyes accentuated perfectly by a pair of glasses. The man standing at the counter was like the handsome stranger one meets in a romcom. That or one of those cherubic angels -minus the tropey golden locks- he’d been forced to stare at whenever the old hag had dragged him to church.

Remy pushed his shades back up, hiding his bloodshot eyes. What sort of deal with God had this Grandma made to have such a dark haired handsome glass of yesness working for her?

The man raised a singular perfect eyebrow. “Can I help you?” He repeated in that same melodious voice.

Remy nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak without sounding like a harpy in the face of such a wonderful tone. 

Focus.

First approach. 

Sticking his hands in his jacket pockets, Remy sauntered -he did not sway not at all, he was in perfect control of his balance thank you- up to the counter and leaned against it, offering his most dazzling smile to the man. 

Moment of truth.

“Hey, honeycakes.” He said keeping his tone low to prevent the rasp in his voice from being heard. “Where’s your Halo? Cus you, my dear, are quite the Angel.” 

Nailed it.

The man pursed his lips in a thin line, his head moving in the slightest of shakes. “Unfortunately, we’re out of honey cakes, sir.” He said, tilting his head to the display of desserts in the glass next to him. “But our triple death by chocolate cake will send you,” his hands moved to form air quotations -who did that anymore?- “over the edge.” 

Ooo was that a threat or an invitation? Remy flashed another smile, tugging at the collar of his jacket. So warm in here. “So long as you’re there to catch me, Honeybee. I’ll gladly leap over any edge for you.”

The man adjusted his black rimmed glasses, moving to the register. “So you want the cake then? That’ll be $3.58. For here or to go?” 

Seriously? Remy gaped before clicking his tongue in exasperation and straightened, only to grab the counter to keep himself from falling backwards as his legs nearly buckled. 

Focus Darlin. Get in. Get out. Get healthy. Flirt later. 

“Actually.” He flinched as his voice grated in his ears. He swallowed, again lowering his tone to hide the soreness of his throat as he rested his elbows on the counter. “I came for your ah--”  He flicked his eyes up to the menu overhead, briefly lowering his shades to squint at the wiggling letters. “Chicken Chili a la Cluck.” 

A spark of recognition flashed in the Angel’s eyes. “Ah, you are under the weather?”

“Wha--NO!” Shoot. Was it that obvious? “No, ma’am!” His voice cracked as Remy jerked his hand up in the scout salute. “On my honor it's for a….” He trailed off. Well that was a pretty pickle. How the blazes could he lie if he was promising on his honor? 

The man crossed his arms the faintest of smiles appearing on his lips. “Let me guess? A friend?” 

Was that excuse used a lot then? He shrugged, shivering as a chill ran down his back. Geez, Grandma had cranked the AC up a little too high now. The place was going to freeze over any second. “I just wanted a taste of home-made soup is all.” He managed, rubbing his arms. “To go.” 

Handsome remained silent, seemingly staring straight into his soul, bright blue eyes analyzing him like a hawk about to swoop down upon a rabbit.

Geez. He was no rabbit! Remy fixed a smile on his face, ignoring how his gums ached. Don’t show weakness. Not in front of his peers. He was fine. He totally didn’t feel like his knees were going to buckle at any second. Not at all. He could hold it together for a few minutes longer.

Abruptly the man nodded, releasing Remy from his analyzing stare as he pushed his glasses up so that the glare of the lights overhead on the lenses hid his eyes.

A pity. He could stare into those glorious eyes all day long.

“Of course, Total is $4.78 for the half size.”

Perfect. He only had a five anyways. “Ah, Sugarbee, truly you are an angel to provide me with such an affordable price for homemade goodness.” He purred, shifting slightly to fish out his limp wallet from his back pocket. This soup better be divine. If he kept up this conversation much longer his throat truly would catch fire. 

The man raised an eyebrow, holding out his hand. “I am not the one to thank for deciding prices, sir.” 

Sure sure. Grandma was the one who did, sweet soul that she was, making things affordable for all her poor adopted college children. 

“I’m sure if such an angelic being such as yourself set the prices then they would be even more heavenly.” Remy swallowed wishing the soup already was in his grasp as he finally pulled out the crumpled bill, fingers betraying him by trembling. “Even so, you can keep the--” 

The Angel’s cool fingers brushed his own, feeling like a breath of fresh air on a hot summer’s day. Remy’s breath caught in his throat, hazy mind short-circuiting at the unexpected touch. How he wanted to take those hands and-- GET A GRIP REMY! “--change.” He choked out, dropping his hand to the counter before he did something even more stupid than pushing on the pull door. 

Smooth. Real smooth. Geez Gurl. Keep it together! 

But that didn’t stop his fingers from tingling, nor from the room suddenly feeling like a sauna. What had happened to the arctic temperatures freezing him two minutes ago? 

The man huffed, slipping the five into the till. “Your soup will be out momentarily, sir.” He said, dropping the coins into the nearby tip jar with an all too loud clink. “If you could step aside so I could help the next customer in line?” 

Remy glanced behind him, lowering his glasses. Internally he cursed as he took in the gaggle of people he could barely focus on. Shoot. When had they come in?! He usually was more aware of that sort of thing. 

“Relax, Specs.” Said the guy right behind him, wearing a simple red shirt that showed off nicely toned arms.

Specs? What an ugly nickname. The Angel behind him was far more than his glasses.

 “I don’t mind the wait.” Red flashed a smile to Remy. “It’s not everyday I get to witness someone flirting with you.” 

Really? He had to have misheard that. “Who wouldn’t flirt with him?” Remy asked, casually straightening slowly enough that his vision wouldn’t tunnel. “Honeybee here is absolutely…” He gestured to give himself a chance to swallow back the agony rising in his throat. “Divine.” 

Red’s grass green eyes sparked with humor as he looked beyond Remy. “So I keep telling him.” 

“You tell me yes, and we both know you’re prone to drastic exaggeration.” His Angel stated, barely twitching as the chef rang the bell, placing a to-go bowl within range for ‘Specs’ to reach if he would simply turn around and grab Remy’s food. “Now are you going to order or are you just here to antagonize me at work again?” He asked. 

“Mmmm. Gurl. No. No.” Remy shook his head, whirling to fully face his cadentic Angel and promptly regretted it, placing a hand on the counter as his knees almost buckled. Hold on. Hold on. He was fine. “Ah--” He forced a smile to his face, fighting to see through his darkening shades, to look into those wondrous eyes. “Red here---no---doesn’t lie. You are an….an….ange--” The words suddenly felt heavy on his tongue as the diner tilted, the pressure of the cool marble top fading from his fingers as he fell backwards. 

“HEY!”

A band of ice wrapped around his wrist, jerking Remy upwards. His eyes fluttered open enough to see his Angel lunging over the counter, one hand holding his, the other clenching onto his jacket, saving his head from hitting the tile floor.

Well how about that? 

“You…caught me.” He whispered in stunned disbelief as his Angel’s bright blue eyes seemed to fill his entire world before everything went black.

To Be Continued Part 2

[holylulusworld]

Done being your fool

Summary: A party, misunderstandings, and love confessions. What can go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Sharon Carter

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, misunderstandings, sadness, mutant reader, special powers, low-self-esteem

Earthshattering, heart-wrenching…however you want to call the moment when the man you love, the man you planned a fucking birthday party for, not just forgot to pick you up, but also enters said party with another woman at his arm is life-changing.

“Y/N…” Natasha can see your expression change form utterly disappointed, to heartbroken to downright pissed.

Well, the fact your hair and eye color changes depending on your mood doesn’t help to hide your emotions. When your hair and eyes turn bright red and change to black seconds later Natasha knows she has to bring you away.

“I am fine, great even. Have fun at the party I planned for two fucking months in my free time and raise your glass on Captain Ass…” Storming past Steve, not even sparing him a glance you slam your hands against the door to get away from the party.

The door slams shut behind you with a loud ‘bang’ and it’s the most satisfying sound you ever heard. Everyone saw what he did to you, everyone knows you are ‘head over heels, butterflies in your stomach, and sleepless nights thinking about him‘ in love with Steve.

While you make your way toward the exit of the ballroom you rented for the party you angrily wipe the tears running down your cheeks away. It’s a chilly night and you are not wearing a jacket as you were dumb enough to try to impress Steve.

Your hair changes to light blue and you need to hold back a sob when you wave at a cab.

“Downtown as fast as you can…” The driver gives you a curt nod, daring not to ask why a girl in a breathtakingly beautiful gown cries uncontrollably on his backseat. “If you don’t make a detour or try to get more money, I’ll pay you twenty extras.”

“Wouldn’t dare to mess with a girl from the Avengers, lady.” Nodding you give him twenty bucks to apologize. 

“Take the tip…sorry for assuming you want to mess with me too.”

Repeatedly slamming your fists into your pillow to get comfortable you curse your heart, Steve Rogers, and the fact you were dumb enough to believe he would be impressed and fall for you after you threw a party for him.

Lying in your bed, a thousand thoughts swirling through your mind you try to find a way to face Steve and the others in the morning.

They will enjoy the party, come back to the tower and ask the question you hate to answer…

“Why did you leave?” Shrieking you jolt up in your bed, ready to attack the intruder only to look at Steve. “Y/N?”

“I was tired.” Defeated you slump back onto your bed, turning your back toward Steve. “Leave me alone and go back to your party.”

“It’s your party, doll. You planned it and I don’t understand why you leave it, pretending to be tired.” Steve steps further into your bedroom, sighing when you do not talk to him. “Y/N?”

“I said I was tired!” Your hair threatens to change to bright red again and you take deep breaths to not explode. “Leave it there, Steve.”

“You planned the party only to spend it in your bed? You are not tired.” Steve sounds pissed but you are beyond the point of no return, so you jump out of your bed to face Steve.

“I was tired, Steve!” Your hair and eyes are red now and heat radiates through your body.

“Tired of you not seeing me. Tired of you bringing a girl to the fucking party I planned. I was tired of you not seeing that I am in love with you for what feels like ages.”

“I…I didn’t know.” Voice barely above a whisper Steve looks at your hair changing to pale blue.

“Yeah, I know. Everyone could see. Everyone told me to try to make a move and I did Steve. For months I threw myself at you. I cooked for you. Attended any mission with you, thanks to Tony and then…” 

Raising your hands in surrender you blink the tears away when your hair changes to grey.

“I had this idea to spend all my free time to plan the perfect party for you. I believed you would finally see how much you mean to me.” Laughing bitterly you cast your eyes down to the floor. 

“Why did you leave the party?”

“As you came with CARTER! I thought you would offer me a ride after I told you about the party. Hell, I manipulated my car and told you it’s broken but you didn’t show, and I had to call a cab.” 

Sniffling you wipe your eyes. “I was waiting at the ballroom, my birthday gift in my hands and then you come through the door, Sharon Carter at your arm and I knew…I just knew you give a shit on me…”

“Y/N, let me explain…” Your index finger presses against Steve’s lips and you shake your head. “I am tired of running after you Steve. From now on, we should keep our relationship strictly professional.”

“Okay…but…” One word leaving Steve’s lips rips you apart. You believed he would fight, would tell you that this is a misunderstanding and that he at least – doesn’t want to lose your friendship.

“Go! Get out of my room!” Hair blue once again you hold back the tears while you shove Steve our of your room. 

“Wait...we should…” Your door closes and you lock it, not wanting to talk to Steve ever again. 

“No, we shouldn’t, Rogers…”

“Will you tell me why you left the party?” Bucky nudges your side glancing at your pale blue hair. “Why is your hair blue?”

“Sadness,” Natasha whispers. “Her hair changes colors like a mood ring.” 

“I know that, Natasha. I asked for the reason why she’s sad.” Deadpanning Bucky bickers about hair colors and knowing you better with Natasha while to your utterly horror, Agent Sharon Carter enters the kitchen.

“Good morning. Has anyone seen Steve?” She asks and you feel like someone ripped your heart out. Last night you told Steve about your feelings, told him you are in love with him and he has the guts to bring her here.

“Got no clue. Maybe he’s polishing his fake halo…” Smashing your cup of coffee against the wall behind Sharon you laugh like a mad man. “I am such an idiot!”

Your hair changes to grey, and this time…it stays grey. Natasha must watch your storm out of the kitchen and her heart drops.

“Whatever he did, Steve fucked up big time. She just suppressed her emotions…”

Bucky’s eyes dart between the usually tough assassin who starts to sniffle and the coffee running down the wall.

“Let me talk to her. I will see what I can do…” 

“Doll, fuck! I was searching the whole tower only to find you on the rooftop in the furthest corner.” Bucky sits next to you, patting your knee when his eyes land on your blue hair. “Blue again?”

“I told him…last night…” 

“Why are you on the rooftop only to sit in a corner?” Bucky tries to distract you, tries to talk to you but your hair changes to grey again.

“I'm afraid of heights and of leading a life of no significance.” Huffing the words out you glance at Bucky. 

“Why do you come up here if you are afraid of heights?” Ludicrous Bucky watches your trembling fingers. Fear let your hair turn white and you fight to bring the words out.

“If I am up here, the fear is the strongest emotion and outpowers everything else. Sadness. Embarrassment. Anything…” Bucky slings his arm around your shoulders, still not saying anything.

“What did you tell him? That you love him, doll?” Humming you look at your feet. “What happened?”

“He told me that he didn’t know. I got mad and told him to keep our relationship strictly professional and he…he just agreed.”

Tears run down your face and your hair changes to bright blue. “It always has been that way. Every time I liked a guy, he backed off. Figures.”

“Figures? I don’t understand, doll. Why should Steve back off only as you love him? He should be overwhelmed and happy.” Now you punch Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a sad smile.

“I wear my emotions visible for anyone to see. I am a freak of nature, Bucky. Why should Captain America, the golden boy himself being interested in me if anyone else pushed me away?”

“Why the grey hair?” Looking at your hair Bucky stiffens. “Y/N?”

“I can suppress my emotions, Buck. When it gets too much to handle or I get hurt…” Voice cracking you wipe your nose. “I suppressed my emotions before. I am more focused, faster, sharper – a better agent.”

“Not a better girl, though.” Steve mumbles. “Buck, can you leave us alone for a minute?” Bucky refuses to move, rather glares up at his friend. “Please give us a moment. I need to talk to Y/N in private.”

Bucky reluctantly gets up, gives his friend a warning nudge to his chest before he nods at you. 

“One word, doll and I am back. Just holler for me, Y/N.” Walking past his friend Bucky snorts when Steve rushes to your side to kneel next to you.

“Doll, you kicked me out of your apartment. I thought…I wanted to…” Panting Steve takes your hand in his. “I agreed to act strictly professional on missions but outside…”

“Outside what, Steve? Can you not leave me alone?” Hair blue again you glare at Steve. “I am done being your fool. Not one day after I admitted my feelings to you, you brought her to your apartment and fucked her…”

“I did what with whom?” Steve cups your cheek, forces you to look up at him. “I wasn’t with anyone, Y/N. I left your apartment and didn’t go back to the party.”

“Sharon, she slept here, at the tower. Don’t try to lie to me, Steve. I told you that I love you and you…you just bring her here and…” Sniffling you try to blink more tears away.

“I swear on all that’s holy, on my mother’s grave, that I did not bring her here. I didn’t even speak to her.”

“But you brought her to the party, Steve. Now you are telling me you did not invite her to the tower.” Your hair turns red again and you punch your fist into Steve’s face. “Liar.”

“Fine! I admit that I did not want to go alone. I heard from Nat that you will attend the party with a hunk – I didn’t know what a hunk is, had to google it, but those guys looked like models.” Blinking a few times, you look up at Steve. 

“What do you mean with hunk? I was alone at the fucking party I planned for your ungrateful ass…” Slamming your fists into Steve’s chest you groan in annoyance as he doesn’t even flinch.

“I didn’t know. Natasha said you’ll come to the party with the hung hunk of your dreams. I wanted to ask you to be my plus one but then I thought you have a sexy guy and asked Sharon…only as a friend…I swear…”

Steve starts to stammer and for the first time, he looks less than the self-confident Captain and more like the weak and shy guy he used to be.

“Hung hunk? I never used such words to describe anyone, Steve.” Giggling at Steve’s confused look you let your hair change to your original hair color. “If I would use such word, I’d use them for you…”

“Me…” Leaning closer Steve presses his lips to yours, grasps for your waist to bring you in his arms. “I swear I don’t know why Sharon was at the tower. I did not spend the night with her. I was awake, thinking about the possibility to make you talk to me.”

“Then why did she look for you?” 

“As I wanted to hand him some very important documents on behalf of Director Fury. I slept at the tower as it was a matter of national security that those papers only fall in Captain Roger's hands. I slept at one of the empty apartments.”

Sharon hands Steve the papers, smiling as he won’t let go of you. “Tony Stark offered me a place to sleep.”

“Uh—fuck. I am sorry for the cup…”

“Don’t worry. People tent to throw things at me.” Sharon gives you a wink before she leaves you and Steve alone. 

His lips are back on yours, press firmly against your soft pillows. “Your hair is light red.”

“Yeah…”

“It was never light red before…” 

“I never was in love before…not like this…” It’s Steve’s turn to feel his cheeks heat up.

“So…can I show you my room?” Grinning cheekily Steve leans closer to brush his lips over yours.

“In your dreams, Rogers. You will have to prove you are my hung hunk…”

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[beyondcanon]

fanfic: a family wedding

wow. what a wild ride. how much i missed writing and didn’t even realize.

wynonna earp/wayhaught. Waverly and Nicole’s wedding turns everyone into a bridezilla. Complete. Read on AO3.

Read Chapter One

ii.

Jeremy is wearing all black, with an earpiece and clippings, fussing over a gigantic ice swan being carried by four large men/demons.

The statue wobbles and he squirms. "Careful!"

"You are not going to ruin this marriage, people! C'mon!"

The same old, beat-up blue pickup truck arrives, boxes and more boxes perched on top. Wynonna opens the door, leather jacket glistening in the cold autumn sun.  The wind blows her hair like a L'oreal ad and she takes off her sunglasses in slow motion.

"Nothing can go wrong with this amount of booze, Jeremy." She smiles, licking her upper lip and tapping the pickup's ceiling three times. "Trust me."

"I'll believe it when I see it and complete a thorough inventory."

Wynonna rolls her eyes, but there's no bite to it, much like getting used to your family's quirks as a destiny. She sips from her flask. "As long as I get quality control duty."

-

The bright sun wakes Nicole, stretching over her skin. She grunts and turns to find the other side of the bed... empty? Cold?

"Waverly?" Eyes darting open and reaching for her gun under her bed, she sits up in a rush.

Her soon-to-be-wife is sitting on the armchair, painting her toenails. The sun creates a halo across her hair; she smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "Morning, baby."

Nicole lets out a shaky breath and hides her gun again. "Sorry, I-" She scoots closer to the edge of the bed. "I got scared for a moment."

Waverly offers her a soft, soft look. The soft pink robe reaches the floor as she walks the few steps between them. "I woke at the crack of dawn and couldn't sleep, thinking about marrying my best girl."

Hands on Waverly's hips, Nicole pulls her closer to stand between her legs. "Excited?"

"I painted my nails and did my eyebrows and my hair was such a mess," Waverly straddles Nicole's lap, "I had to do something about it, and then I re-wrote my vows twice, first in my head and then on a piece of paper, which I hid it from your curious eyes." She chuckles when Nicole hides her face in the crook of her neck and takes a deep breath.

"And here I was, thinking someone would wake up with a hangover."

"Never." Waverly huffs, squeezing Nicole's shoulders. "Then I started thinking about you, pretty face and great butt, but I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. You looked so cute and I want to marry you already," she whines.

Nicole pulls back and takes a long moment to look at Waverly's face, hand placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What are you thinking?" Waverly tries to read her expression and fails. "Are you having second thoughts?" Her eyes widen and Nicole blinks three times. The words stalling falling from her mouth in quick succession, barely a shred of a second to think, "Because that's totally normal for the bride or groom to get really nervous with such a big decision, and we decided to spend the night together so there's no one to calm you down besides me, which isn't going to help much, because I'm the girl that got you stuck here with a big responsibility and a ring on your hand and I-"

She's so cute. Nicole smiles and kisses her, gentle and sweet, one hand cupping Waverly's cheek. It does get her to stop babbling.

"I love you." She joins their foreheads and Waverly takes a deep breath, still a pout on her lower lip. She licks and kisses the pout away, scratching the back of Waverly's neck until she lets out the little sigh Nicole knows so well. "Wherever you go, I go. This is it, baby. You and me."

A loud knock startles them both. "Are you decent?"

Nicole grunts and throws her body back on the bed.

"And Wynonna." Waverly laughs. "Come in!"

Bottle in hand and reeking of whiskey, Wynonna stumbles in.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. "It's 10 am."

Wynonna waves and scoff. "I have something important to say." She stops in the middle of the room and looks at Waverly and Nicole.

"I don't want you to move out." She takes a deep breath. "I like having both of you around. It's... better. Safer. We haven't talked about it, but I know you're probably planning to move to Nicole's-"

"Hey," Waverly answers like she's trying not to scare a kitten. She gets up and gets closer to her sister. "You're not losing me."

"Us." Nicole sits up on the bed.

Wynonna takes a gulp and winces. "We can fix the house, get you more room, better locks, soundproof the entire place, anything you want."

"Wynonna," Waverly whispers, a hand on her sister's arm and eyes watering.

"We built something good, baby girl." Wynonna sighs. "All of us. Together."

Nicole looks at Waverly and they have an entire conversation between them.

She gets up to stand in front of Wynonna. "We'll always fight by your side." She grabs the bottle as Wynonna tries to take another sip. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

Wynonna takes the bottle back and shrugs. "Whatever. Just... think about it. It's not like I'm charging you rent or anything."

Waverly goes in for a hug, but Wynona scurries away without closing the door.

"That was..." Nicole breathes out. "Unexpected."

Wynonna peaks her head on the door. "I'm dealing with a lot of shit." She drinks from her bottle and leaves again.

-

The kitchen is a mess of pans, pots, and seasonings.

Rachel points at the table. "I've made you breakfast. Doc said you both need a full stomach to start the day." She shrugs like she doesn't even care. "He also said he expects you for Best Cowboy duties in 30min."

Waverly claps and does a little jump. "What are we having?"

"Vegan chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled tofu, tea, and a green smoothie for you." She places on the table a procession of dishes. "Real eggs with bacon, a cappuccino, and french toast for Nicole because she doesn't need to suffer the indignity of eating vegan on her wedding day."

They take a seat. "It looks amazing." Nicole smiles. "Thank you, Rachel."

"Yeah." Rachel grunts, taking powdered sugar and finishing the pancakes. "I figured I was your best shot at eating something edible."

It tastes every bit as good as it looks.

-

Nicole pulls Waverly by the waist until they are flush against one another. "Good luck with the best ladies." She steals a kiss, and then another.

"Good luck with the Best Cowboy." Waverly smiles, coy, messing with the lapel of Nicole's jacket. "Don't do anything too crazy."

Nicole could kiss the daylights out of her. "Can't wait to see you in a wedding dress."

"Oh, you're going to love it." Waverly's voice drops two octaves too low and Nicole shivers. "Later, gator." She pushes Nicole out the door and enters the house giggling.

Nicole looks around the front yard filled with people coming and going. Doc arrives from a distance.

She jumps when Mercedes screeches, further terrorizing the catering crew. "Unacceptable! Don't you people know how to fold a cloth napkin properly?"

She demonstrates three times and makes them prepare and place each one to perfection. A young boy tires and folds the wrong way.

Mercedes hisses. "I will kill you and your whole family."

The boy gets it right the second time.

Nicole mouths an apologetic "She doesn't mean it," even though she knows Mercedes does very much mean it.

Doc arrives, thankfully. "Let me take you away from the madness, Sheriff." He opens Charlene's door for Nicole.

"Not a moment too soon." Nicole jumps in.

-

Nedley, clean-shaven and dressed in a handsome wool suit, is waiting for them at Shorty's. "I took the liberty of getting the first round started." He points to the drinks on the counter.

"You know how to please a man," Doc sighs and takes his hat off, downing his whiskey in one gulp.

If that man isn't Wynonna's soulmate, no one is.

"How are you feeling?" Nedley helps Nicole out of her coat. "Getting the jitters?"

"Not really." Nicole walks with him towards the booze. "I wish the wedding started already. I can't wait."

"Young love." Nedley gives her a knowing smile. "Just a couple more hours, darling."

Nicole smiles back and grabs her drink.

-

The phone rings across the room.

Nicole rushes to it. "Is everything okay?"

"No demon, Sheriff." Wynonna scoffs. "With Peacemaker and Rosita, we're more than covered. Your girl, however, is having a little freak-out."

Waverly can be heard in the background. "I am perfectly reasonable!"

"Could you tell your woman you still want to marry her?"

Nicole bites back a smile. "Sure."

A moment later: "Hi, sweetie."

"I heard my best girl is having a little freakout."

"Am not."

Nicole can hear the adorable pout in her voice. "I can't wait to be married to your beautiful face, you know." She hums. "Watching you walk down the aisle. Having that ring on your finger."

Waverly sniffs. "Really?"

She overhears Wynonna's fake puking and Waverly's whispered "stop it".

"Mhmm. Celebrating with our family. Carrying you inside the bedroom and having my way with my wife."

Waverly sighs. "It feels so good when you say that."

"Wife. Partner. Love of my life." Nicole's voice is pure honey. "My wife, and no one else's."

Waverly purrs. "I can't wait, too. I bet you look so sharp."

Nicole smiles because she does: brown pants and vest, crisp white shirt, hair down in delicate waves. "I bet you look drop-dead gorgeous."

"Can we get married already?"

"Just one more hour, baby."

-

No trace of chaos and confusion when Nicole arrives:

Decoration in place, flowers everywhere, ginormous ice swan, blue sky smiling at her.

Jeremy greets them in a dark grey suit, earpiece still in place. "Welcome to your wedding, Nicole."

Arms locked with Doc, she smiles and allows Jeremy to lead them.

The guests stand up — the whole town, in their best Sunday attire.

Doc's firm hand over hers keeps hers from trembling. "One foot in front of the other. That's all there is to it."

The music begins: it’s Ella and Louis' Tenderly.

They walk slow and sure, locking eyes with the crowd as they pass.

The altar they made themselves over two laborious weeks looks perfect.

Nicole takes her place, Doc right behind her.

Heart thumping, mouth dry, she has no idea how much time passes before the music changes to Cheek to Cheek.

Waverly and Wynonna appear, arm in arm.

Waverly waves with a nervous smile, and they lock eyes. This is it.

Yes, Louis, her heart beats so she can hardly speak.

Her dress is so pretty. She's everything Nicole has ever dreamed of.

She dries a stubborn tear or two, breath caught.

Wynonna clears her throat. "Make an honest woman out of my sister, will you?" They take their time in their hug; this time it's not awkward. "I will skin you alive if you do anything to her and I will enjoy it."

"Noted." Nicole chuckles, squeezing Wynonna one last time before stepping back.

She offers a hand to Waverly, who takes it to climb the one step to stand in front of Nicole. "Gorgeous," she mouthes.

Waverly's brown eyes sparkle. "You're here."

She takes Waverly's hands. "I am."

Nedley begins his speech. He talks about union, love, and dedication. All Nicole sees is how Waverly's hair catches the light, the smell of lavender and honey, and the cool autumn breeze against her skin.

-

The silence falls thick, the air pregnant with expectation.

"Nicole, you turned me inside out since I first met you. Thank God Shorty didn't fix that tap." She gives a bright smile, squeezing Nicole's hand. "I never thought someone so generous, so loving, could exist, and yet here you are, standing in front of me. You give me more than I could ever hope to get out of this life. You see me." She makes a long pause. "I love every part of you. I promise you everything I am."

"Waverly..." She takes a deep breath. "You have the most kind, beautiful soul I have ever met. I'd be crazy if I didn't fall for you, if I didn't fight for us. Every time you look at me, my heart flutters with how much love I carry for you in my whole body." Her voice trembles. "I'll follow you wherever you go. I'll choose you, again and again, and again, as long as you'll have me. You are my destiny."

She slides the ring on Waverly's finger with trembling hands.

Waverly draws a sharp breath before taking the other ring and doing the same.

Nedley declares them officially married.

"Finally," Nicole sighs. She pulls Waverly close, turning and bending her backward before giving her a deep kiss.

The crowd cheers, fireworks exploding in the sky.

-

The food looks amazing, but Nicole wouldn't know.

It's a flurry of movement: greeting guests, shaking hands, Jeremy taking hundreds of photos.

Wynonna grabs the microphone and announces: "Let's get this party started!"

Rachel presses play and I Put a Spell on You comes on.

With a mischievous look, Waverly rips her dress to reveal a cooler, shorter dress underneath.

Nicole takes off her vest, throws it on Wynonna's face, and opens three buttons on her white shirt.

Waverly takes a few steps back, hips moving to the beat and finger calling Nicole forward.

She pretends to be busy rolling her sleeves up, eyes never leaving her wife.

Shoulders moving, steps in quick succession, Nicole follows. They circle each other, smiles broad and malicious.

One, two, three slow steps. Nicole pulls Waverly flush against her.

Waverly pushes her away and turns, only to be pulled back again.

That perfect ass grinds against Nicole, hand reaching to the back of her neck, "Just wait until I'm alone with you," she whispers in Waverly's ear and feels her shiver.

She grabs the hand on her neck and uses it to turn Waverly back to her again, bodies moving together in perfect sync.

"When you do," Waverly tells her, hungry eyes and lips parted, "you'll find I'm not wearing any panties."

Nicole almost misses a step.

-

The party roars, booze flowing. Rachel's impeccable setlist keeps everyone high, horny, and in the mood.

Soaked in whiskey and sweat, Nicole dances with her wife. A hand holds her glass up, a firm palm spread on Waverly's lower back, hips moving together.

She's everything Nicole can see, smell, feel.

Foreheads together, Waverly mouths the music against Nicole's lips, breaths mingling. Arms around Nicole's neck, she leans back, exposing that sexy neck and a dirty smile.

Nicole wastes no time kissing her pulse point, teasing with her teeth. Waverly grabs her hair, pulling her closer, whimpering.

"Baby," Nicole soothes the skin with her tongue. "I need to have you."

She gets a breathy moan. "And how are we going to make that happen?"

In the middle of her haze, Nicole assesses their surroundings. The house is filled with people to the brim, the front yard is full of people making out...

-

The music thumps on, muffled in the background.

Waverly jumps on Nicole, who promptly grabs her thighs and pushes her against the barn door. "My wife," she groans over and over again between kisses, biting Waverly's lower lip.

Waverly wraps her legs even tighter around Nicole's waist, grabbing her hair. "Baby, please." They moan in each other's mouths when their tongues meet, and it's not enough. "I need you three fingers deep, right now."

Nicole grunts, throbbing with want, taking Waverly to a pile of hay and settling on top of her. "Anything my girl wants," she pulls the dress down to kiss those perfect breasts, "she will get it." Her mouth latches on a nipple, sucking and biting and pulling just how Waverly likes it.

Waverly whines, nails sinking on Nicole's back. She spreads her legs further, so willing, dress riding up her thighs.

"You're so wet." Nicole sighs, running a slow finger through Waverly's folds. "Is that all for me?"

Waverly gasps and pulls Nicole closer. "All for you, baby. Just for you."

Nicole can't deny her any longer, two fingers slipping inside.

"Yes yes yes-", Waverly moans, hips canting when Nicole picks up the pace. "More, baby, more."

Gasping for air, Nicole adds a third finger. "So good," she mumbles, "So tight." Her voice strained, watching Waverly biting her lower lip in pure bliss.

She gets faster, rougher, taking it almost all out before thrusting inside again, feeling her wife pulsing around her fingers.

"You fuck me so good, baby," Waverly gasps, holding on to Nicole's shirt for dear life. "Only you," she moans, again and again.

"All mine." Nicole curls her fingers, hard kisses on Waverly's neck, as her wife gets even tighter, wetter, more desperate.

Waves comes with a sharp cry, tears falling, back arching.

Nicole stays inside her, kissing her earlobe softly as she whimpers.

"So good." Waverly kisses her lazy and slow, whimpering when Nicole takes her fingers away. "So good." She sighs, taking Nicole's hands and dutifully licking her fingers.

Nicole groans when Waverly starts sucking. "Don't make me fuck you again."

Waverly smiles. "Counting on that, baby."

Nicole leans in for another kiss.

-

Wynonna barges into the barn with a big, big smile. "Told you so!"

Waverly and Nicole scramble to cover themselves, behind some wooden boxes.

"Couldn't get past midnight, could you lovebirds?" She wiggles her eyebrows before leaving. "Pay up, losers!"

"Man, couldn't they wait another hour?" She hears Rosita. "I was counting on the money."

"Tell me about it. Could have been one hour earlier." Is that Doc? "Take it."

Nicole rolls her eyes, a grin on the corner of her mouth.

Waverly bumps shoulders with Nicole. "That's the life you chose." She starts getting dressed.

Nicole watches, everything else fading to the background. "It's the life I chose," she agrees, admiring the lean back of her wife and how her tousled hair moves.

Waverly reads her eyes and giggles, offering her hand. "C'mon, there's a whole party waiting for us."

Nicole closes the buttons on her shirt and lets Waverly pull her up.

She cups her wife's face for a long moment, basking in how she leans into the touch and closes her eyes.

Waverly wraps her arms around her, their breaths in sync.

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.15

When You Come Back to Me

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3290

Summary: The reunion of soulmates. 

Do I need to say more?

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and death, swearing, light angst and fluff

A/N: Let me voice what I assume are your thoughts (and mine too, tbh): Fucking finally!

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

So… you might be panicking.

A little.

To be fair, all of your worries were justified, every single one of them, and that was why you voiced them.

“What if he’s gonna attack me? I mean, you thought I was a fake.”

“What if he passes out from the shock? I know no first aid! I barely know my own name!”

“What if he jumps out of the window? I mean, I might if thought I was seeing a ghost-“

Natasha Romanoff shot you an amused glance, continuing her stroll through the halls of Tower, and you had a hunch you weren’t the only one well-aware that the last question was simply you making excuses for not meeting your soulmate just yet.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did, so, so much, but at the same time…. yeah, you were definitely panicking.

“He’s not gonna jump out of a window. As for the other cases, which are about as likely, I’m gonna be there with you to make sure it doesn’t happen before you get to actually talk. Happy?”

Not really.

Your brain was still coming up with more ridiculous what ifs, that annoying little things, and now your frantic heart and the actual worries joined the party and you had a strong urge to spin on your heels and walk the fuck away.

“What if… what if he hates me?” you whispered, your chest tightening at the thought. That was the real concern, wasn’t it? “I mean, I’m alive and he was through hell, because he thought I wasn’t. What if he hates me, because I didn’t come sooner? I can’t even remember him – how messed up is that?”

It wasn’t until the redhead stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you that you realized you had in fact frozen on spot.

“He’s not gonna hate you, милашка,” she assured you with softness you didn’t expect her to be capable of, her features compassionate and kind. “None of that was your fault.”

You ignored whatever she had called you in favour on focusing on more important matters. “But neither it was his.”

A smile flirted on her lips, a simple tug of the corners of her mouth, brief – but you still saw it as she continued walking then, speaking up again.

“You tell him that.”

“Uh-huh…”

By the universal law of the Universe, the she only took few more steps before facing the captain’s door, apparently.

“Ready?”

“Not really,” you murmured honestly, earning an understanding nod.

“That’s fair. Jarvis? Is he decent?” the spy asked lowly as she gently pushed you in front of herself so you entered first.

Instead of an answer, the door slowly opened upon the AI’s command, effectively sending your heart to a gallop you weren’t sure it could handle. The door could creak for a dramatic effect and you wouldn’t be able to hear it over the whooshing noise in your ears.

Natasha Romanoff might have nudged you to come in. You weren’t sure; your legs carried you on their own without you remembering ordering them so.

The spacy bedroom slash private living room with a couch and coffee table was plain. Nothing special about it, huge slats covering a window replacing one of the walls only partly opened.

Sure, it was kinda impressive and it kinda wasn’t and it didn’t matter the moment you had laid your eyes to the second door of the room right opposite to the window.

A blond man stood still in the doorway to what you assumed was his bathroom, hand frozen in motion as it went through his damp hair.

You couldn’t help but stare at him for several reasons.

Firstly, he looked… familiar. There was an air around him, screaming sincerity and gentleness, kindness. Comfort. And sorrow.

You had seen the pictures of him, sure, the video even, but this was something quite different. Upon meeting him in flesh, you somehow knew… it wasn’t all a lie. You were meant to find him and your racing heart and mind were on board with that.

He was also incredibly handsome. You had met a real-life angel and you were confident he must have helped to sculpture this man’s face and body. He was wearing a white tank top, revealing his muscled arms, dark sweatpants hanging from his thin waist, seemingly even thinner with comparison to his broad shoulders.

His face had shock written all over it, but still held beauty no man should possess. Men were supposed to handsome, but seeing his eyes, you couldn’t help but think of the word beautiful. His lips were plump, no doubt prettier than yours, his cheekbones and strong jaw were a gift from God and… you had a hunch that when his hair wasn’t wet and was lighter tone, it resembled a glowing halo.

For some reason and out of nowhere, you recalled the phrase ‘I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying’ and had to wonder if the author of those words thought of this man when writing them down. You could totally see that happening.

Your gaze was glued to him, the depth of his eyes leaving you unable to form words.

“I hate dreams like this,” he whispered hoarsely, sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice, god, his voice, the one you had heard in the video, carrying the same pain, but more importantly, the one you had been hearing in your dreams … said the words written on your skin. There was no doubt now.

It didn’t make you less dumbfounded. What should you even say in a moment like this? What could you say to a man who was your soulmate, the mere sight of you chasing tears into his eyes, because you were supposed to be dead?  

“I’m sorry?” you offered hesitantly, causing the man – Steve, Steve Rogers, he had a name, he was your soulmate for god’s sake – release a choked sound. You needed no other confirmation of your words matching the mark on his collarbone.

Also, go me. What a first line to bless him with on his skin.

No other words were exchanged, two people utterly mesmerized by one another, starring at each other in stunned silence.

Agent Romanoff, leaning onto the doorframe, cleared her throat, causing you both to wince. You had totally forgotten about her, to be honest. Clearly, so had the captain.

“Before you ask: yes, she’s real, Steve. Very real,” she emphasized as if she wanted to prove his exclaim about dreams wrong. “She’ll explain what she can, which… isn’t much. Just so you know we ran every test possible already. She’s no faker. I’ll leave you two some privacy.”

With a quiet clank, the door closed shut when she slipped from the room and seemingly, she took all the air from your lungs with her. Or maybe just your ability to speak, you weren’t sure.

“You’re… what—how?” he asked, his face pure shock, unhealthily pale.

Seeing a tear rolling down his cheek and hearing his voice crack nearly broke your heart.

You had a feeling you had always been a softie, the story about soul bonds torn apart enough to make you weepy… living it though? Being in the centre of such heart-breaking story, standing few feet from the man who had lost his soulmate, being able to almost touch the pain and shock on his face, only now noticing the lines of exhaustion, the bags under his eyes… your own eyes started to burn with tears. Again.

He took several hesitant steps closer, his gaze fixed on your features.

“Ca-captain Rogers, I…” His face twisted in a strange grimace, causing your stomach to clench. He probably wasn’t happy about you calling him that. You had been calling him Steve, at least in the video. Obviously. “I mean… Mr. Rogers. Steve.”

He seemed utterly confused and you couldn’t say you blamed him.

You were all really friggin’ confused, alright.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. You-- you-“

“Look just like the woman in the video? The one telling you to-“ let her die. Your stomach rolled over at finishing the thought. You tried to shake it off, focusing on keeping your voice somewhat even. And on actually explaining the situation as much as you could.

“I know. I didn’t remember my name, I don’t remember me, my family, my friends. I don’t… I don’t remember you and yet… there is no way I’m not the person everyone claims I am and you… you seem familiar and I heard your voice in my dream, which is entirely crazy and…-”

Steve watched you, mesmerized and frowning as you chuckled self-depreciatingly. Not knowing what to say next, you unbuttoned the top of your shirt, revealing your collarbone, first the crossed-out words, only then the fresher ones.

Steve erased the distance between you completely, reluctantly holding the hem of your shirt to see.

And the strangest thing was that you wanted him to linger with his gaze. To touch your skin even, run his fingertips over the words, hell, place a kiss over them… and it should freak you out, wanting this from a stranger, but it felt right. You weren’t intimidated by the intimate proximity of a man whom you just met. You liked it. You felt safe. You longed for his arms around you.

Rather than saying your desires out loud – and it would be ridiculously easy under his intent eyes – you breathed in slowly and collected your thoughts.

“I’m… this is gonna sound insane, but Ms. Romanoff already heard this whole story and I know it’s incredible, ‘cause it kinda involves angels and resurrections, but if you’re willing to listen-“

“I’ll listen,” he promised lowly, his brilliant eyes – not blue as you thought at first, but with a little drop of green paint in them, as if God thought of the blue being too perfect and the joke ended up being on him, because they were breath-taking – meeting yours, a vow heavier than his words written in them.

Your breath hitched when the pools of the fascinating colour welcomed you sincerely. You… you wanted to drown in them.

“Thank you. I… you should see something first though.”

“More than the words?” he asked in a whisper, bewildered.

You nodded, taking a hesitant step back, his fingers hovering in the air for few seconds, twitching even, before his hands fell to his sides. You hastily fished out your fake ID to cover the fact his motions made you blush and handed the item to Steve, who frowned in confusion.

You licked your lips and went to explain.

“Sam, Dean and Cas – the men who helped me to get here and find you – they…” How exactly you should put that? Telling a superhero that they faked your ID? “-ugh, they found me and faked my ID since I needed it in order to… eh, exist. And I don’t remember a thing, alright? I didn’t know my name until I read about myself on the internet and Ms. Romanoff – Natasha, ironically – confirmed it, along with the Jarvis. So I picked one. ‘Natasha’ came to my mind first. And-“

“-and Rogers,” he breathed out, slowly lifting his gaze. You couldn’t read his expression, but there was undeniable fascination in his sparkling irises.

“I don’t know you and yet I do. I don’t remember us, but there’s this feeling. I believe this isn’t a coincidence. Or maybe it’s nothing,” you chuckled self-depreciatingly once more. God, what were you doing now… “Maybe I’m not supposed to be here, maybe I’m being silly now-“

Steve interrupted you with a watery laugh, tears springing from his eyes. The sound shut your mouth effectively, surprising you greatly.

“What?”

“It was one of the first things you told me. You being silly. Stupid even,” he explained and your chest tightened. What did that mean? And how could you not remember that dammit!

“…oh. Did you… agree?” you pried, worrying your teeth over your lower lip, only to earn a gentle shake of his head.

“No.”

“What did you say?”

A sad smile graced his lips, soft thing full of sorrow and fondness. “I’ll tell you later if you still want me to.”

“I will!” you reassured him swiftly, perhaps to eagerly. You weren’t sure whether it was the prospect of his presence or learning about yourself (and him) that had you so eager. Probably a bit of both. “I… I’d like to hear the story behind my soulmark too... and to know yours.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “Okay. I promise to tell you everything I know as long as you ask it.”

The message of you having the courtesy to set the direction and pace of the next moments – or perhaps hours, days – didn’t escape your attention and warmed you heart, causing your lips to turn upright a fraction.

“You’re a truly kind person, aren’t you?” you more stated than asked lowly and Steve lowered his gaze as if sheepish, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes frantically searched the room.

“You… uhm, you can judge that later. Why don’t… why don’t we sit on the couch?”

And here went the kindness again…

“I’d like that. I think it’s better if you sit down for what I have to say too.”

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You were surprised Steve didn’t interrupt you once.

Sure, his face spoke volumes whenever you found enough courage to look up at it, instead of keeping your gaze down in your lap, mostly fascinated by your fiddling fingers.

At the end of your narration, you shrugged and sighed in relief of getting it all out.

“So, here I am. Zero memory besides the dreams of you talking to me and calling me ‘doll’. I’ve seen a video of myself dying, learned about people actually lighting candles for me all over the United States, like I’m… I don’t know. That’s a kind of thing done for Princess Diana, for god’s sake. I did my reading – because I don’t remember who that was. I don’t know things and I—I don’t want to complain, I was apparently brought back from death, I should-- I should be grateful, I know that much, and I am, okay, but-“

You weren’t sure when you had lost control over your brain to mouth filter, when you had lost control over your emotions, because since meeting him, you had been somehow coping, so why now, why-- why were you just pouring words to the limited space between you and couldn’t just stop-

Large, slightly calloused and very much warm hand caught your suddenly trembling fingers. Your mouth fell shut, your eyelids closing on instinct. Why was there the burn in your eyes again as if you wanted to cry? You had no right to cry.

…did you?

“Hey, hey, don’t do this,” Steve coaxed you, his other hand brushing your shoulder and you just wanted him to hug you. You would take the soothing touch and calming circles drawn on your shoulder since he offered at least that though, but god, a hug would feel so much better. “You lost your memories. Your life.”

“You lost your soulmate,” you whispered back, opening your eyes with a shaky breath. He averted your gaze and you caught a flicker of shame and anger before he did so.

“I killed my soulmate,” he corrected you, his voice turning hoarse and hard, his touch disappearing from you. You wanted it back instantly, already missing it and hating how his hands clenched into fists in what could be self-hatred.

You shook your head. You two were being ridiculous and downright stupid. Instead of being happy to find each other again – though not quite – you were having a pity party and going for guilt trips. You bit your lip nervously when reaching to cover one of his fists for a change.

His fingers immediately twitched and you fought the instinct to pull away. Or lean in?

“You were given an impossible choice, Steve. No one can blame you for trying to save everyone.”

“I can. I do… as should you,” he uttered and you sighed, realizing that maybe he did believe you that you meant it – maybe he didn’t –, but it didn’t matter as long as it was eating him up from inside.

You shrugged rather light-heartedly, but took special care to emphasize every word that came out of your mouth next, to show you were hundred percent serious and honest.

“Well, I guess I don’t. All of this sucks and I cannot imagine what it’s like for you, me being here, maybe acting… differently than—ugh, than me. The me you know. The me that remembered us. But I’m here. Alive. If there’s a chance…”

This got him look at you, expression conflicted. Yeah, you understood ‘conflicted’, alright. You wanted to learn everything you forgot, but upon saying out loud how hard it must have been for him, you realized just how natural would be for him to ask you to leave and let him have his peace after… everything.

“But if… if you want me to leave, I mean, I won’t be very happy about it, but-“

His fist opened immediately, gripping your hand almost painfully before you could even pull away an inch.

“Please don’t!” he pleaded hastily, effectively starling you. His features softened when you nodded then, his eyes burning with sincerity. “If you still want to hear about how we met…”

“I’d like that very much,” you attempted to smile at him, calmness washing over you when his face lit up.

Crisis averted.

Though not the threat for your heart. It didn’t ache as much as it had when you first entered – but boy, now it started swelling in your chest as his eyes sparkled, his whole being coming a bit more to life. It was a breath-taking show to watch.

“Do you want something to drink? I’m being a terrible host, sorry-“

He stood up quickly, releasing your hand, his own instantly going to clutch at the fabric of his sweats. It was endearing, seeing him being the nervous one.

“Feels like you’d be entitled. But you’re doing fine, Steve.”

“O-okay. Tea?”

“I guess…? I found out I don’t really have a thing for coffee…?” you explained hesitantly and for some reason, it brought a smile to Steve’s face. Maybe there was a story?

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Right. You probably hadn’t been a coffee person before- before. That would make sense. Him knowing that would make even more sense.

“Well, I’m glad at least some things apparently don’t change.”

A hint of a blush painted his cheeks and you watched him, fascinated. Aw, now that was so precious. Why blush though?

“I… uhm, I still have what used to be your favourite tea stocked, so… maybe that?”

Your lips parted at his thoughtfulness. It made you wonder though; just how far your relationship had been when you had… ugh, died? Were you official? Probably. Was there any funny business involved?  With your dreams, you had a pretty good idea about that, but you could never be sure they weren’t just memories of your fantasies. Were there… plans for the future already?

Just how well did you know each other? How much you were robbed of? How much of you Steve was missing? How could you not remember this amazing man, who apparently cared about you so deeply?

Your dark thoughts must have shown on your face, because he wavered.

“Or not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, freak you out or-“

“No! That’s not—it’s just-I--it-ugh-“ Oh wow, you were so terrible at speaking. ”That… the tea, yeah, that sounds pretty nice.”

His smile had faltered earlier, now returning, only less convincing. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll be waiting right here,” you declared, patting the couch with both hands for demonstration.

Perhaps it was only your imagination, but he actually seemed assured at that. Less worried.

Yeah, you definitely made that up.

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Part 16

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Thank you for reading!

I hope the wait was worth it ;) Yeah/nah? Btw, Natasha called ‘Nat’ a cutie (or a loved one).