#<- I mean I guess?? I'll come up with theories once I reach the end of the book

[makerofmadness]

HOLY FUDGE BARS THE BOOK JUST LIKE. DROPS A HUGE THING RIGHT HERE WITH THIS.

"It becomes clear that the player and the main character aren't one and the same"

"You got The Locket"

"You took back the locket"

I've read through most of this book now and it does NOT just make statements like that or try to fill itself with fan theories. The most I've seen it "mess up" was with the story/battle context for Papyrus's really cool regular attack, calling it his special attack, which I have seen other people in the fandom do before anyway.

This author had direct access to Toby himself (there's notes about them asking him questions) and his own notes for the translators and stuff from when Undertale was being localized. there's screenshots of texts and spreadsheets.

I have seen nothing else in this book so far that is at all "stating theories as if they're canon." And iirc this book was officially considered "not part of Undertale merch" or something along those lines so it dodges the non-canonicity thing (plus again this is directly about the localization process behind Undertale from English to Japanese, I'm not sure how Toby's own notes on how Determination works could be considered anything but "canon").

...

I guess we were never really the greatest person, now were we...?

(this is the legends of localization book btw)

[diahire]

Anyways I wrote this post on my private blog but decided I'll share it with the whole fandom and add a few more thoughts to really throw salt about this down on the salt pile with the rest of the Villain fans. (This post isn't for the hero stans, I'm not here to argue with you guys, if you like the ending good for you! I wish that could be me!) I thought about it all night and tbh its literally the worst outcome for the entire manga imo? Because it doesn't feel like the resolution everyone was fighting for can be reached now, or as if Hori's gonna just gloss over it the same way and pretend its a happy ending. (Sorry if I sound like a hater, I sung his praises and trusted him so much so excuse me if my trust has been completely shattered with this) This post sums up a lot of my feelings on the last chapter Surrounding AFO and stuff like that, which was actually satisfying. But oh my lord, everything else is one of the most bitter let downs I've ever seen in any piece of media ever. I'd like to believe the fan theories that this isn't it for the LoV are true but tbh I refuse to be fooled by Hori again so at this point I'm actually fairly positive that the league is dead save for Mr Compress who, I guess, will just be spending the rest of his life ass-cheekless and in jail. (Unless we're meant to think Compress has been executed or is going to be. Who knows. Wouldn't be surprised at this point.)

Like I mentioned, I think the whole "Give Shigaraki back. His friends are waiting for him" thing was alluding to the fate of the League. It would explain why we haven't seen them again. Why Ochaco was the only one shown to be lifted into the helicopter to the hospital even though Himiko should have been right there with her. I made a post about it back then saying how worried I was that they didn't show or even mention Himiko at that point. Well, yeah, my fears of the worst I think were confirmed there. Like the reality here seems to be that Hori literally directly pulled a bury your gays on her. Like ?? I think its probably also safe to say Spinner is likely already dead. We've seen or heard nothing from him since he went down either. Due to Shigaraki's final words I want to think maybe he's not but at the same time I can't imagine him being the sole survivor. Unfortunately, this means Dabi is likely already dead as well. I'm low key taking a little bit of spiteful satisfaction in the fact that if Dabi has died his last words were telling his family to fuck off and honestly, good for him. Its like he said. This was all lip service and saving face and why did it have to go so far / take so long for anyone to even try? Why did he have to burn himself to death for his family to give him the bare minimum of acknowledgement? He spent his entire childhood literally crying and begging for it and being harshly rejected because the moment his dad found out he was disabled he pulled the rug out from under him and decided his existance was pointless. He spent the entire battle desperately trying to get his father to recognize him and talk to him and see that he wasn't a worthless son and could have done so much had he not done epic ableism to him (which, yeah we agreed this was correct within the narrative, omg!) and all Endeavor did was avoid him until he was backed into a corner and couldn't ignore / avoid him anymore, which is at large why Dabi was so badly injured in the first place. This isnt a W for the heroes or for Endeavor anymore. Once again our great hero drove his literal disabled abuse victim son to death in a desperate attempt to receive some type of validation from him. The easiest thing in the world for Endeavor to have ever give him and the one thing he really wanted was once again withheld from him until it was too late. A fucking "Sorry I didn't come to Sekoto Peak :(" isn't good enough anymore. Like I say this as someone who isn't even an Endeavor hater, the opposite, that just isn't good enough anymore. I mean, wow, Himiko and Shigaraki both essentially "sacrificed" themselves for the purity of people who actually didn't really care about them and actually just failed them one last time in the grand scheme of things so I just don't see how I'm suppose to really feel like its a satisfying outcome for them. We can't let our little centrist heroes get blood on their hands, what a crappy cliche way to end their stories. The tragic, outcast, well intentioned extremist lefty "villains" self destruct so the designated, privileged "good guys" don't need to feel any guilt or real consequences for their deaths or weight of the things they were trying to achieve. (Even though they are undeniably responsible!) Ugh, genuinely its so gut wrenching that all Shigaraki wanted in his last moments was for Spinner to know that he died trying. Like I'm sorry but they weren't "saved" as they should have been and as Hori had been suggesting to this entire time. I understand every one of them was shown to have achieved some morbid, tragic sense of peace before they died but I just hate that's all they got. Himiko and Shigaraki let themselves die ultimately because people said some nice words to them and did the bare minimum for them that no hero would ever do before. How far they had to go to get the bare minimum out of some fucking kids no less, not even actual licensed heroes, bruh like. Yeah, such a win for the heroes... /s.

I think a lot people miss the fact that the reason the LoV wanted to "destroy" the world was to create a better one, and this has a lot of tragic impact when characters like Spinner are canonly being murdered and mutilated in literal hate crimes to such an extent Spinner was unable to leave his house back in his home village without being attacked. But of course this is fine cause Shoji moved to the big city and is going to become a licensed hero one day so that'll def end all racism toward mutant presenting quirks, no flaws in that logic at all, why didn't Spinner just think of that himself. /s

I mean this is really just a salty rant because I know other people have articulated, I think, better than me, why this ending sucks ass, sends a crappy message, shits all over the whole narrative of Izuku and his friends becoming "The worlds greatest heroes" and overall feels to be out of the left field, and honestly is just a lazy and bitter cop-out with all the build up surrounding it and the fact that it absolutely DOESN'T tackle or resolve any of the social issues that the series has done nothing but make commentary on and that the LoV were all tragic victims to, which is why they took up the fight with the heroes in the first place. (Aka, government dogs, literally we've learned all of Hero society basically exists as a distraction and a shitty band aide for the oppression and demonization of people with quirks by governments who refused to actually adapt to the society of the supernatural and instead continued to systematically oppress people who were considered to fall outside of the social norm which is now more rigid than ever because society becoming supernatural should have REMOVED all said oppressive "norms" but instead it heightened them because people in power won't/wouldn't let go of what they considered "normal" no matter how outdated and defunct that "normal" was. ) Anyway, yeah, no the status quo has been upheld and the rebellious minorities who fought so hard to end their oppression have been killed and will surely be forgotten as little more than crazy terrorists. Huzza, the day is saved! /s

Idk man. I suppose we can hope that the UA kids put measures in place to try and correct hero society through taking on board the villains pain and their rightful and just complaints moving forward but IMO that feels unrealistic now because now they're dead. The war is won, history is written by the victors and it will be much more convenient to everyone WHO ARE STILL IN CHARGE (The UA kids are still kids who are still in school mind you, they have no real say or power in anything.) to just continue as normal as if we weren't given a clear idea that as long as hero society exists things will not improve for Meta-humans and their rights and the unfair prejudices against people and their quirks so... Yay.

But hehe funny super hero manga, yay the villains were defeated and the day was saved, the rain stopped, the sun is shining and the birds are singing! -powerpuff girls animated heart -

[pttucker]

⸢And everyone lived happily ever after.⸥ I always hated that phrase. However, the current me dearly wished for that phrase to become true. [Constellation, 'Demon King of Salvation' has reached his ■■.] [You have become the 'Oldest Dream'.] The disappearing lights in the distance resembled the Constellations that still remembered me. And with that, my endless voyage got underway. [Your ■■ is 'Eternity'.]

I was this close to making a reaction post about the supposed "miracle" that happened and why the worldline wasn't collapsing despite Oldest Dream no longer dreaming.

I mean, I was certain it was because Dokja was maintaining the dream and maybe he himself hadn't realized it yet, what with him literally being Oldest Dream. Guess he had one final trick up his sleeve.

I will say that I'm super amused that my theory of him being an avatar and not knowing it was apparently 100% correct but in a manner I completely did not expect. If I have to pick, I wanna say that the moment he chose to break himself apart was right here:

That left only three people behind. "Kim Dokja." It was unknown who among Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk called that name out first. The former asked with a questioning pair of eyes. "We are getting off together, right?" [Someone has activated 'Lie Detection Lv… '] That prompted Kim Dokja to smirk softly. "Of course. We should." ['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Kim Dokja's' words as truth.] "Let's go."

Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky. Dokja scheming until the very last second. Sacrificing himself for his companions One. Last. Time.

Though not as much of a sacrifice as before; he'll still get to "read" about them just like he loves and technically he will also get to live with everybody in a big house just like he wanted. So while part of me is clenching my heart, it's overall a happy ending.

And I looooove that we've circled back to Dokja's ■■ and why it has both the meaning of Eternity and Final Chapter.

I'll admit that I'm still a little fuzzy on what exactly happened with Secretive Plotter, the 999ths and Oldest Dream. I guess they reached the epilogue of their stories and this is the epilogue of Dokja's story? So now they're off in an entirely different worldline once again?

And it seems we have 34 chapters of epilogues to go through now! As well as ongoing side stories! The latter of which I still need to figure out if anyone is currently translating into English.

I'll admit when I heard that ORV had ongoing side stories I wasn't certain what exactly they'd be about but it appears we've still got a lot to wrap up even after the happy ending and you can't tell me that at least in one future side story (or maybe one of these epilogues) Dokja doesn't meet himself again or at least realize that he's missing half his memories.

...Or perhaps his companions will realize something fishy is going on, what with living right beside him and Dokja not remembering a whole 50% of his life. Hmmm.

A tale of this new world continued to flow on. But then, just as the subway's doors closed, Han Sooyoung looked behind her with a slightly unsure, hard-to-read face of someone that left something behind. Even Yoo Joonghyuk looked back, too. The only person who didn't was Kim Dokja. Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk's gazes ran into each other, and they began growling at the same time. "What you looking at?!" "I should ask you that, you basta…"

Well, if nothing else, I do dearly wish to see more of these three idiots together. I love that both of them refused to get off the train until they were certain Dokja was coming with them and they both seemed to sense that they'd just lost something.

And I do wonder how exactly the world is going to go on after all of this mess and if they really will try to take Joonghyuk's sword from him. (Not a good idea.)

I mean, they seem to still have all of their abilities and stats? I think? So they're just supposed to live in normal, modern day Korea as if nothing happened while having superpowers??? And I assume most of the world's population is gone unless that was miraculously rewritten.

Or...???

Guess I'll find out.

[https-simphub]

HERE ME OUT. YAKOU AND SHUICHI MAY BE RELATED IN SOME WAY.

[‼️This post will be contained with SPOILERS so BEWARE‼️]

Okay, so either my brain went giga chad or my delusional thoughts took over again. Either way, I just wanted to post my theory on here. (I literally took screenshots and thought hard about this lol.) Also, I know I'm probably not the only one who had this theory so I apologize if you made a similar post already!

If you want to leave comments agreeing or disagreeing with my theory, by all means go ahead! <3

‼️LET'S BEGIN‼️

If you played or watched someone played all of the Danganronpa games (like myself) in Danganronpa V3, when they revealed Shuichi's Fabricated Past (now hearing the word fabricated made me rethink my entire theory...I may look like a fool by the end of this but I'll continue.) we learned that Shuichi used to live with his uncle and wife, working as his uncle's assistant in his detective agency.

HMM. Who owned a detective agency and had a wife??? Chief Yakou! (I won't get into the wife thing, iykyk.)

If you've read the digital prequel novel "How to Be a Master Detective: A Yakou Furio Case", it tells us how younger Yakou became a detective. I won't spoil the whole story but I took a few screenshots from the novel for this "theory". Mitsume, his old boss who owned the agency building before stopped running it because he got married and moved away from Kanai Ward.

After his boss left, leaving the agency to dust away, Yakou continued running the agency, obviously continuing to be a detective. I'm guessing Yakou then met his wife shortly after (or years later). It was never revealed if Yakou has any siblings but if he does, then he's definitely the uncle Shuichi is talking about.

I'm saying definitely because there's some similarities.

1. Yakou worked as an assistant detective when he was younger, Shuichi worked as an assistant detective for his uncle (and was probably taught how to be a detective from him). 👀

2. The whole "lived with his uncle and wife" just adds up to Yakou so much to me as I've stated previously.

3. The color of Yakou and Shuichi's hair are a bit similar if you think about it. When you search up "shuichi's hair color" on google, this comes up (not saying that google is always right). I've always thought his hair was just black but after a while I noticed some blue in it.

Yakou's hair is a lighter (bolder?) dark blue from Shuichi's. Shuichi obviously got his hair color genes from either his mom or dad if they themselves have dark blue hair. OR you never know, what if Shuichi inherited Yakou's hair color? It's not uncommon for you to look more like your other family members than your parents. So...

We've reached the end of my theory, I have nothing else to explain. Thank you for reading if you made it this far! I know this theory is dumb but I just think it would be wholesome if Yakou is Shuichi's uncle. Just imagine if Shuichi worked as Yakou's assistant detective in Kanai Ward (years before the blank week happened) then he travels somewhere else (where Danganronpa V3 takes place) then travels back to Kanai Ward to visit his uncle he hasn't seen in a long time and finds out the detective agency that was once a building now is a submarine. Plus I just want Shuichi and Yuma to meet and become friends cause I love them both as detective protagonists!

[willel]

Don't know if you have read the news about the play, but they have revealed some info and potential clues about the story. It looks like what I suspected was right (or might be right) in the sense that the writers are really trying to connect the whole story to the past with this play. Now, I don't want to sound like I am shitting on the play before it comes out, but imho the whole thing just seems to be very obvious and cheap as a story with the info we have been given.

My guess is that Henry and Patty (Bob's sister whose character is now revealed on Twitter) will have some sort of a romance, whereas the other characters and mainly Patty & Bob's father aka 'Father Newby' will be against their relationship. Probably because Father Newby will suspect Henry of being not normal due to his powers, and maybe he will try to help him, but it will be unsuccessful and vice versa... and then Patty will die a tragic death in an accident or something and then it will fuel Henry's hatred against the town and the other characters (My guess is that it will be the memory he used to fuel his powers, aka the memory that made him angry but also sad as he said in S4).

This event might be the reason why Henry feels some sort of resentment not only toward the town but also toward the characters, mainly Joyce and Bob and potentially Hopper. Thus it is the reason why he messed with them once he was able to reach them after the gate was opened. With the context and clues about the play, this seems more likely, since we now know that all of these characters knew each other from the past. It is pretty unlikely that Bob died out of coincidence or that the Byers family ended up being targeted for some random accidental event if Henry knew them all from the past... which he knew.

I am open to ideas, and to be proven wrong because I don't particularly like this. 'All of the plot from S1 and onwards was for a reason, and it ALL happened because of what happened in the past in 1959' is such a 'retcon' that with the new additional story pieces. It just changes the whole context and story point for me, and I personally do not like it. But I think it is where the Duffers are going for with this additional play story.

I'll probably catch up with the info later, but isn't Henry like, 12? I mean, I know the kids group were also dabbling in romance when they were 12 so it wouldn't be that weird for their to be a romance but eh.

I'm kinda hoping they keep it simple and just say Bob's sister (???) was his first and only friend and something tragic happened to her.

I still dunno how this connects to Joyce at all because supposedly Joyce had no idea who Bob was in high school. Bob said this himself in season 2, so I'm assuming the Duffers are retconning their own timeline a bit there if Joyce is in any way connected to Bob in high school.

I'm not really on board with the theory that Henry has a personal grudge with any of these people, but I can imagine if he was friendly with Bob's sister and he blames the town overall for what happened to her, then yeah, Joyce and Hopper ARE part of the town so.

They took a lot of inspiration from Freddy Kruegur and I know Freddy took particular revenge against the children of the parents who burned him alive... but still. I kinda get the impression it's ALL the people of the town he had a grudge against. I doubt he had a list of each and every single parent present that day. Or maybe he did, he's a weirdo like that.

Maybe I'll make a post about it later when I decide to check out all the information released, but to be honest, I'm kinda just want to wait and see what the play even is.

I'm excited to see Joyce and Hopper's past as well as the trigger that set Henry on his path of destruction but I'm still questioning the timeline of some things tbh.

[theringers]

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.

[dogtoling]

What is a Special Weapon? (a speculation)

So let's get straight into the post. (LONG post under the cut)

A Special Weapon is: - the weapon itself: a powerful ink battling weapon manufactured and regulated specifically for this purpose (Bubble Blower, Sting Ray, Inkstrike, Inkzooka etc.) OR - a specialized attack or response treated as a special weapon (Kraken, Splashdown, Booyah Bomb etc.) - Supposedly uses the Inkling's own ink - debatable, but highly likely based on evidence

Before we can get deeper into the special weapon lore, we must look into what comes BEFORE a special weapon. That's the special gauge.

There are multiple ways to fill up a special gauge: - Inking turf - Having control over an objective in Ranked Battle - Being in an underdog situation in a match (Tenacity) - Equipping a Canned Special What happens when the special is then activated? The meter slowly depletes, and once it is fully drained, the special ends. In practice, what IS the special meter? Now, when looking at the meter objectively, it looks as if it's filled with ink. That alongside its function in powering Special Weapons, as well as draining like an actual Ink Tank, can give the impression that it is LITERALLY a secondary ink reserve the player is filling up. This is in order to then use all of that ink as ammo for the special. And this actually makes a lot of sense. well now it's time to open a whole new can of worms (or weapons i guess)

CANNED SPECIALS Canned specials are literally, well, canned specials that make an appearance in Splatoon's single player modes as well as the Battle Dojo from the first game.

(From the splash screen of the first game, we can see that they are approximately the size of an actual tuna can.) Upon obtaining a canned special, your special gauge immediately fills up and you gain the ability to use said special weapon, which heavily suggests that the special weapon itself is stored inside.... the tiny can. You know, stuff like a force field, or a 7ft ink cannon. Or a pressure washer that includes more ink than the volume of an Inkling. Yeah. Right. So this implies insane hammerspace technology if it IS to be taken at face value - although i find it odd that there's not a single official art or tidbit of lore that acknowledges that inklings in fact obtain their specials from tiny hammerspace tins. (Even sub weapons and their inner workings make a tiny appearance in official art. Specials are never elaborated on too much, unfortunately...)

As an alternative, there is the concept of the cans holding a specific amount of condensed ink enough to power any of the included specials that you could then pop inside the weapon. That is not at all how it's implied to work, but it's a cool alternate explanation that makes slightly more sense - and if we take some liberties and assume that the cans are a LIIITTLE bit bigger, we could even argue that the cans could be THE special gauge itself. Looking at the special gauge, it IS designed to be round, just like a tin. I don't recall what it was modeled after if anything, or if it's just a coincidence, but food for thought.

Oh yeah also here's a picture of a NORMAL main weapon can that you can get at Kamabo Co. They have one for like every weapon type as well as some bombs which implies that weapons are oftentimes stored inside cans (although these might be bigger cans). Either way, the ink tank idea might be down the drain considering the implications of this one.

Anyway, moving on. Hi guys! I brought you guys all the way through that wall of text... just to dunk on that literal ink tank theory and dump it in the trash because there is another theory that makes more sense on like every scale possible. I'm so sorry. (But I also really like the idea of the special gauge being a literal ink tank that you fill up, so I had to include it, because it's not like it doesn't hold a lot of ground.) I'll get straight to the point. The other theory is that the special gauge is only a hypothetical concept created for the sake of gameplay and balancing, and in reality, it is simply the buildup to what I'll refer to as the "special rush" state of an Inkling. It has no physical value, varies between Inklings, and has no ties to actual points at all. Observe these bits from the art books 1 and 2:

1. Some Inkzooka trivia. Although the entry refers to SPECIFICALLY this weapon, it is very likely that the same is true for all special weapons - or at least the ones that primarily use ink (so not necessarily things such as the Bubbler and Echolocator).

(Ignore the random lines. Those are my notes lol) This Baller entry tells us a LOT and i mean a LOT of what we needed to know. First of all, the Inklings' ink output breaks the laws of physics there is no way a single inkling has enough ink inside it to even fill THAT ball at least 4 times the volume of its body NOT TO MENTION producing enough ink to fill one SEVEN TIMES THAT SIZE anyway the important part is the one where it confirms that Inklings produce an abnormal amount of ink while they are using a special weapon. Because the Baller was specifically developed for the purpose of containing all the excess ink, there is a big implication that the ink is originating from the user itself, specifically in the moment of using a Special. Then why is this? Well now we get to the concept of the "special rush" that I mentioned before. It refers to this state that we see Inklings enter when their special gauge fills up:

Their tentacles will glow, bubble up as if boiling, and they will look as if caught in an epic dramatic action movie wind at all times. This is when they're able to use their Special.

I think it's safe to say that this is "a heightened emotional state". As opposed to for example the Kraken which could be a repurposed panic response (if you haven't seen my post about that, that exists too) the special rush is likely a similar all-out response, although caused by getting really in the zone of battle. So to put it simply, a POSITIVE chemical response, in which the Inkling's body starts pumping more ink through channeling one's fighting spirit and yadda yadda yadda.

To put it shortly here; this "rush" likely evolved as a response to intense territory disputes or even hunting. More ink means more defense AND more offensive power. In Turf Wars, reaching this rush means that Inklings can - and probably have to - channel this excess ink elsewhere, which in this case is into special weapons that quickly gobble up all of the excess ink (with part of it going in the ink tank).

A lot of the weapons second this excess ink theory by including a heightened coating of ink across the user's whole body (Ink Armor, Booyah Bomb, Splashdown) or even rounding up the excess ink that's built up into an offensive endeavor (Splashdown, Booyah Bomb, other specials utilize it as ammo). Once all the ink is used up, the Inkling's emotional state stabilizes and the cycle soon starts over again until they hit the high mark again. (For a second ignoring the fact that it is physically impossible for them to produce this much ink. I guess I'm not ignoring it since I'm drawing attention to it here but it bothers me so much. My work is never done lol) So I guess this theory makes sense, but why is it inherently BETTER than the "special gauge is an ink reserve" one? Let's see the arguments for the ink tank version: 1. The Special Gauge is literally filled up with ink as the game is played. This is potentially something that happens as the weapon is shot, and some of the ink is channeled into the special gauge instead.

> It doesn't make much sense for this to be the case. The ink is being SHOT OUT, not stored; at least not stored anywhere visible and although you really have to have room for imagination when trying to draw logic for this game, i would really assume the developers would include a physical indicator of the gauge if it was meant to be literal.

2. There is potential for the Canned Specials to BE the gauge itself, as something that attaches or "fuels" the special. The gauge could be designed the way it is to reflect this.

> The canned specials are a weirdly inconsistent thing in the world of Splatoon, appearing ONLY as insta-fills in single player campaigns and the Splatoon 1 battle dojo. True, there are some on the player's desk in the splash screen of the first game, but we also don't know if those are for Turf War, or the dojo, or from Hero Mode. There's not even any for sale at Ammo Knights, whereas entire special weapons outside of cans very much are. Even if the special gauge isn't a can, it also doesn't mean that a can as an ink tank can't essentially serve the same purpose of providing the ink needed for a special. 3. The gauge fills up with a very distinct ink graphic, so it could literally mean it's ink!

> This one is true! But taking into consideration one thing; as a hypothetical gauge, the connection with ink is STILL there, as by the time the gauge is finished, the Inkling is basically overflowing with excess Ink. So rather than an external tank being filled with ink, the player itself is. 4. The gauge fills, then it's full, and it slowly depletes as a special is used. Basically the perfect flow; and a perfect reasoning for where all the ink comes from, and WHY you need to fill up the gauge to be able to use a special.

> This same reasoning still makes complete sense for the hypothetical gauge. The graphic goes up to indicate how close the Inkling is getting to the rush state, clearly shows when they are IN the rush state, and then the state slowly wears off as the ink is used. Where the ink comes from is directly explained in canon at this point; an Inkling in its special weapon state emits a crazy amount of ink - according to what the art book shows, more than like 10 times the volume of the inkling itself. Which makes zero sense whatsoever but, well, it does explain where the ink comes from. 5. The special meter being hypothetical wouldn't be good because it wouldn't be consistent at all. Some people surely get way more pumped WAY faster and use way more specials than others! No balance!

> The special meters aren't consistent to begin with, even in the game. People who stack Special Charge Up will sometimes use a special upwards of five times per 3-minute-game. People who get splatted a lot may literally never get to use a special once. Just like people's personalities in real life, the rates at which different Inklings would "charge up" can vary by a mile. And furthermore...

We see examples of the "special rush" outside of the gameplay!

Pearl, in the ending of Octo Expansion, enters a special rush mode seemingly out of nowhere (though you could also maybe say she might have used a canned special) after getting pumped to literally save the world. So does Agent 3; DOZENS OF TIMES, in both iterations of battles against them. They use a bunch of special weapons completely out of left field, take way more hits than the player and continuously use Splashdowns. This is because they're continuously triggering their Rush in the midst of intense combat, and especially under mind control, during which most of what they probably have is survival instinct, which means drastically raised ink production upping both offensive and defensive capabilities. But wait, there's actually even more that supports the theory of the special gauge referring to a buildup to a rush state: - Tenacity as an ability. This ability makes it so that your special gauge will automatically fill itself up if your team has fewer players on the field than the enemy team. This ability makes very little sense in the situation that the special gauge is literally an ink tank, as you're not actually shooting ink at all for it to fill up. However, as an emotional thing, a player that is also an underdog is SURE to be really giving their all in the competition and thus building up their rush faster. - Your special gauge supposedly fills up passively while your team has control of the objective in Ranked (I literally didn't know this because I barely play ranked ever). Again, this has nothing to do with actual inking. But what it DOES have to do with is potentially winning the game, and that totally gets you pumped. - Again, the inconsistencies in a special gauge. If it was an ink tank, you would assume the amount of ink needed for each special weapon was a very specific amount. Instead, players fill their special gauge at different rates, and getting splatted cuts down the gauge... again, depending on your abilities. Losing ink from a pre-filled ink tank that is being specifically saved up for a weapon doesn't really make sense as one gets splatted, but getting demoralized and frustrated when getting splatted makes a whole lot of sense, which would also set you back in reaching your special rush.

In conclusion: The Special Gauge is a hypothetical meter that exists for gameplay purposes; in practice, it only conveys how close or far a player is to their "special rush" state, in which their senses and emotions are heightened and their ink production is greatly increased due to a surge in fighting spirit.

1. When a battle starts, no one has their rush going on because everyone is only just warming up. Different people with different objectives and personalities may get their rush very quickly, very slowly, very frequently or only once. You get the picture.

2. As players find themselves doing intense physical activities, participating in tense combat and so on, they build up towards their rush state (likely building up endorphins, dopamine and adrenaline or the like), which increases the body's ink production. It is likely that contact with ink also naturally increases one's ink production.

3. When players hit this rush state and the "special meter" is filled, they can channel all the excess ink into a special weapon. Once the ink is used up, the rush subsides into a less intense emotional state, until the cycle may start again soon after.

Well, there's my thoughts on specials and mostly the special gauge and what it means. Thanks for reading yet another one of these essays.

[sharkbait77]

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Chapter Three

Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 4.2k

A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰

Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:

«Phone conversation on their end»

Thoughts

Text messages

Song mentioned:

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol

«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.

You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.

"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.

«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.

"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"

«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.

«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»

"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."

You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.

* * * *

You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.

555-9057: Hi Dulce :)

555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)

You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.

555-9057: It's Marcus btw

Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.

Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭

He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.

555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P

So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.

Agent Cutie

Nope, delete.

Agent Pike

What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.

Marcus

Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.

Marcus Pike

Yeah, okay. I guess.

Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?

Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad

Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.

Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄

Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)

Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.

Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!

Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.

Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉

Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?

Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy 😴 good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!

Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.

Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!

There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.

Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.

* * * *

Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.

You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.

Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.

It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.

Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.

"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.

"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.

"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.

"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.

You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.

You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.

The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-

"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.

He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.

Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.

"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.

"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.

His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.

"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?

"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.

"What?" He chuckles with you.

"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.

You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.

"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.

You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.

"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.

"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.

You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.

You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.

"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."

You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.

"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.

The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.

The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.

The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.

You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?

You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.

"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.

"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.

"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"

"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."

Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?

"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.

"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."

Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.

It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.

"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.

You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.

"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.

You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.

"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.

There must be something in the water here.

"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.

Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.

* * * *

"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.

You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.

"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.

At last, my love has come along,

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song.

Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover,

The night I looked at you.

You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:

Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink

Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂

Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.

Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Too Daze Gone (Joe x Reader)

(Happy birthday to me! You’re all going to suffer. This is a little something that I wrote over 2 1/2 years ago based on a concept that I thought of three years ago; one of the first ideas I ever had for a Def Leppard fanfic. I made some very minor edits to it ((since I’m not 17 anymore)), and honestly, this is still one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written. But I know you guys are gonna have my head for it later...)

Prompt: It’s December of 1989. You and Joe are recently married, the world has now officially entered the post-Hysteria era, and- well...

-----

December 1989

The soft morning sunlight was seeping through the plane’s window right next to you. Joe’s head was resting on your arm, and you used your opposite hand to stroke his hair soothingly. He had one hand on his stomach, along with his green eyes closed and shut away from the world. The plane was flying steadily now, but your minds were anything but steady at the moment. There was so much to say, but no place or time to say it. It was almost as if you two were having a telepathic conversation; there was so much thinking between you both, yet nothing was being said.

“You alright, Joe?” the voice of a London guitarist broke your attention from the window. He’d strolled over to the seats where you and the man in question were sitting, and let his concern get the better of him.

There was far too much concern going around today, so Phil's question was rather unnecessary.

“Oh, he’s fine,” you answered sweetly, knowing that Joe didn’t want to answer, and also not wanting to give Phil any hint to your invisible nerves, “He’s just feeling rather sick is all.”

Phil sighed, “Ah, yeah, the turbulence wasn't the greatest.”

You decided to go along with Phil’s theory of why Joe wasn’t feeling well. After all, it was believable.

“Yeah, we haven’t been awake that long, either. You know how he can be in the morning. He’s just sick of the day, really,” you lightly joked. Today was not necessarily a good day for jokes. There was a deep, underlying sadness beneath the surface of everybody's tone no matter how much they joked around.

“Oh, so he’s got morning sickness, I see?” Phil joked along, trying to lighten the universally tense mood, “Well, congratulations on the pregnancy, Joe.”

Your heart jumped and you forced a chuckle at the statement. You felt Joe’s heart jump, too.

“Thanks, Phil,” Joe cracked a gentle smile for him as he walked away. You could feel how forced the smile was as Joe slowly reached out and squeezed your hand. He was definitely more worried than you.

“Shh, I know. I’m worried, too,” you whispered to him so quietly that you could barely hear yourself, “But we’ll deal with this later.”

~18 hours earlier~

You weaved your hands together with the utmost anxiety as you waited for Joe to get back from a small trip to the supermarket. As you waited, there was no stopping the racing thoughts in your mind. Once one thought appeared and rooted itself within you, it was impossible to keep it from rolling into a snowball of others. It was driving you absolutely mad on the inside. Keeping calm on the outside, however, came rather easily. It almost felt like second nature at the moment. Of course, you knew that was all going to change the second Joe got back.

Everything was going to change the second Joe got back.

When he did come back, you immediately stood up and went over to him, trying to be casual and lighthearted.

"Hey! How was the store?" came the greeting from you. Your voice was nearly on the verge of breaking from the tension of the whole situation.

"A fucking treat," he grumbled sarcastically, putting four bags down on the table, "The whole bloody place was packed, the service was piss poor, traffic on the way back, you name it."

You kissed him on the cheek for a few seconds in consolation, quickly making his small dimple appear as a result. Normally, it melted your heart to see him smile, but this time, it made it almost vibrate with worry. It hurt to see him happy now, since you knew it wouldn't last long.

He turned and put his hands on your waist, "I suppose it was worth it to get back to you, though."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickly pecked him on the lips, telling him, "You're too kind. Now let's see what you've looted up on-"

Desperate to distract both of you from each other, you turned to the grocery bags and started to pull the items out. You did it in a sped-up manner to keep your hands from shaking too visibly. You had no idea when to mention what had to be mentioned.

"I'll tell you what," Joe spoke up, his annoyance still audible in his voice, "The service down there was so fucking slow. Took me a half hour to get four bloody bags worth."

"I'll say you took a while," you impulsively decided to create a segue- any segue- that may get you closer to your fated subject. You blurted out "You’re late."

As he continued pulling out the groceries, he cocked an eyebrow, and asked without looking at you, "What do you mean I’m late?"

"Just, you're late, that's all," you shrugged, the anxiety overwhelming you more. It was getting close to the subject now.

"I'm not late," he chuckled, still not looking up or fully understanding you. You both often liked to joke and tease each other, so this wasn’t anything strange to him.

"No," you stated calmly, going completely motionless with fear, “But I am."

He didn't completely comprehend what you had said. He began to put away the groceries and asked you obliviously, "What do you mean you're late?" Late for what?"

You pressed on, remaining rooted to a motionless state and staring at him, "No, Joe... I’m late."

"You mean that this month you didn't get your-" he started off normally, but then paused as the penny dropped. He froze, and dropped the can he was holding. Your heart sank in your chest at his reaction. Now was the time to talk about it, and you could sense it wasn't going to be pleasant. Part of you began to think that this is how it might end for you two.

He turned around, looking almost mortified and whispered, "Oh my god... are you...?"

"I don't know..." you were shaking now, "I'm just assuming."

For a moment you both stood there, staring at each other, lost for words.

Another impulse suddenly arose within you, and you blurted out again with a wavering and worried voice, "I-I hope I'm not, Joe, and I know you don't want me to be, either, because now is not a good time for this to be happening! You’re at the peak of your career, and we’ve got the new album on the way, then you'll be on tour again- and-"

"Hey, hey, shh," Joe moved forward and put his hands on your arms, "Calm down... it's okay, it's okay. First of all, who ever said I didn't want this? You can't just assume that I wouldn't be okay with it... and I'm not mad- really, I swear! Second of all, this isn't set in stone yet. We'll have to find out if you are first, and if you are, we'll... then we'll make it work out somehow. Don’t think too much just yet; try to relax.”

You blew out a shaky exhale and muttered, “Yeah, okay...”

“Have you been sick?"

"No, but something just feels... off."

"How late are you?"

"About a week..."

"Have you been this late in the past, but gotten your period anyway?"

"Yes..."

"Then we don't know for sure," he kissed the top of your head, embracing you and reassuring, “So what if you're late? That doesn't have to mean anything! I'm worried, too, but we can't just jump to conclusions like this. I wouldn't even put the stakes at 50-50 right now. All this worrying is probably over nothing. You could just be overthinking."

You turned your head and attempted to look up at him to say, "But this is a child, Joe... if there's even a small possibility that this child exists, we've got to assume that it does... we can't just ignore it for too long."

"You've got a point, you've got a point, but just for a second, genuinely consider the possibility that you're not-" he didn't dare say the “p” word, "-you know..."

You sighed into his shoulder, fighting back against tears that wanted to fall, "Okay, okay, you could be right, but there's so much that might have to be done- we can't just put this off..."

"We can until we know for sure," he suggested, "If it's worrying you so much right now, then I'll run out to the corner store and pick up a test. We can sort this out once and for all. How long did you wanna wait before taking a test?"

"I don't know, I don't know," came the drawn out reply as a few tears spilled from you, "Maybe a day or two or three, but I'm just getting so worried that it might be true, I can't wait anymore."

"Okay, then you won't have to wait anymore," he tilted your chin up to give you a quick and thoughtful kiss, then wiped away your tears, "I'll run to the store quick and buy us a test. Is that okay?"

"Yes, please just do it. I'm sorry- you just got back from the store and-"

He laughed and squeezed you tighter, swaying with you in his arms, "Ah, don't worry about it; it's a necessary trip now."

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would."

"What'd you think I was gonna do? Leave you?" he chuckled lightheartedly, though he guessed exactly what you were thinking.

You faked a chuckle in reply, "Yeah, kinda... I had a lot of time to overthink everything."

"Well, would you leave me? Especially if I were in your shoes?"

It was your turn to squeeze him tighter (and laugh into his chest), "Joe, if you were in my shoes, I think we'd have a real problem."

"Oh, I know, I know- but apart from that- would you leave me?"

"Of course not..."

"Exactly. You wouldn't leave me, so I definitely won't leave you. You know we've always looked after each other, and I still plan on holding up my end of the bargain."

He kissed you again, longer this time, before softly assuring you, “I love you. Don't ever think that I’d abandon you to raise a child on your own, cos' it'll never ever be a possibility. I'll be here no matter what. Positive or negative."

***

Positive or negative, indeed, you told yourself as you wearily gazed out of the plane's window. You still weren't completely sure how to feel about the outcome of the previous day, but- as you told Joe before- you had to deal with it later. There were more pressing matters currently at hand. Your previous issue could wait for an extra day or two. The more serious problem that you all were on your way to currently needed the most attention. This particular problem also seemed to outline a theme for the past 24 hours; accidental life or accidental death.

~17 hours earlier~

You both sat on the bathroom floor in quiet anxiety. Your hands were joined in a world of worry. At the moment, it was impossible to tell who was more worried, since neither of you could bring yourselves to speak.

The longest two minutes of your lives were currently taking place. The test was sitting on the counter of the sink, and neither of you were counting down to when you could look at it again. Every now and then, a reassuring thought would come to mind that you were all worked up over nothing. After all, Joe was right; you barely had any evidence other than the fact that you were late, so you couldn't just assume the worst. On the other hand though, you couldn't help but feel that there was some impending doom about to come, almost like you felt it instinctively.

With you both being scared shitless at the moment (and not even trying to hide it), you sensed that deep down, both of you knew what the result was going to be. Neither of you wanted to admit it, though.

A few rooms away, the phone suddenly sounded off, shattering the tension and making you both jump. It was almost like a form of divine intervention to prevent you from thinking any more. Almost immediately, Joe lifted his hand away and quietly said that he'd answer it. He stood up and left, leaving you alone with a possibly huge revelation sitting on the counter a few feet away. However, that would no longer be your biggest concern, for you could easily overhear Joe talking on the phone.

"'Ello?" he answered before pausing and replying anxiously, "No, I really don't have a minute... I can't say, but I don't have time to chat. You alright, mate?”

There was an unnerving pause before you heard Joe ask, "Why?"

There was an even longer pause before he spoke again. Your heart was pounding more. That gut feeling that your lives were about to change for the worse grew enormously without warning. On top of that, you suddenly realized that it had been well over two minutes at this point. Your future awaited you now.

"Fuck... oh my god..." Joe's voice was a lot more quiet now, "...oh my god, is he...?"

Now, you began weaving your hands together, slowly growing more and more impatient and worried.

"Dammit," Joe said a little louder, "We'll we've gotta go, then. We've gotta go as soon as possible. What about Rick and Sav...? Alright, then. We'll meet you there tomorrow morning- I've really gotta go and tell Y/N right now. I'll call you in a bit. Yeah, alright... just try and calm down, mate- okay? See ya, then."

As soon as he hung up, you heard him rush back to the bathroom.

"Y/N, he huffed before he was even in the room, "Y/N, something's happened and we’ve gotta-“

He froze in the doorway upon seeing you now standing and completely covering the test in your hands.

"No," he moved forward and put a hand on yours, "Please don't look at it yet; something awful's happened and I don't know how much sudden news we can take at this point. Did you look at it?”

You shook you head, not breaking eye contact with him, "No, but now I'm too scared to take my hands off. What's happened?"

He came right out with it, "Steve's been found unconscious at a bar in Minneapolis. They took him to a hospital, he’s in intensive care and... and he’s pretty bad.”

Right then and there, you dropped the test in your hands with a gasp. You were speechless, but part of you couldn't help but ask, "Is- is he gonna make it?”

You suddenly saw tears in Joe's eyes when he answered, "I don't know... he won't die unless we knock some fucking sense into him! That was Phil who just called, and he sounded scared shitless..."

"W-well what are we gonna do? Is anyone going to see Steve?"

"We are. Tomorrow morning we're flying out with Phil, Mutt, Tony, and Peter."

"Wait, what about Rick and Sav?"

"They both can't make it on short notice. We're gonna have to give Steve a beatin’ over the head from them.”

Just like that, you forgot all about the test on the floor. Steve was dying, and that was enough to flood your mind. You wanted to cry, you wanted to hug Joe, you wanted to scream, and most of all, you wanted to see Steve and sob your brains out to him.

"He's never gonna get better, is he?" you quietly asked, not particularly looking for an answer. Joe shrugged and sighed, running his hands through his hair.

He coldly chuckled in a quiet voice, "Not unless we keep drilling it into his head that he's gonna kill himself!"

Hanging your head out of astonishment, you sat on the counter, realizing that this was the biggest blow to your lives since Rick’s accident.

At least, it would be until you saw the result of the test on the floor.

"Joe..." you whispered to him, staring down at your hands, "Should we look at the test? Should we wait until we get back?"

Joe did nothing more than stare at you, frowning nervously. He moved his own hands forward, placed them on top of yours, and took a deep breath.

“We’re only gonna be more worried if we wait... so we might as well settle things now.”

Joe slowly got on his knees, and felt on the floor for the test without looking at it. When he located it, he rose back to his feet, and brought the test forward. He kept it covered with all his fingers wrapped around it to conceal the verdict.

Blowing out a trembling breath, you looked at him as he did at you, and he gently unfolded his fingers from the test. You both simultaneously looked down to see the clearly marked result. In that second, you were fairly certain that life would never be the same.

In fact, you were positive.

***

“Now is literally the worst possible time to talk about this, Joe,” you whispered again so no one else on the plane could hear, “It can wait a day or two. We’ve got to worry about Steve first."

Joe nodded a little, agreeing with you, “Okay, I suppose it can wait.”

“Don't stress yourself out so much; it's literally making you sick. Besides, I’m the one who’s supposed to be sick,” you chuckled, “That’s not your job.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed a little, “It really is the turbulence… and the fact that Steve’s… and you’re… and I’m surprised you’re not this overwhelmed.”

You sighed and turned your head towards the window, “Yeah... I’m really surprised, too. This is gonna be one hell of a story to tell this kid when they’ve grown up...”

“I feel sorry that their story had to start out like this,” Joe put another hand on top of your already joined hands with a guilty exhale, “With such bad timing...”

As you watched the illuminated clouds move on by the window of the plane, you couldn’t help but think that things truly would be okay at one point: like that maybe this wouldn’t be such bad timing after all. Things would all work out eventually. How far away that merciful checkpoint was, you’d never be able to guess.

***

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in a circle of people in a rather pleasant-looking and sunlit room. For such a nice day that it was, nothing about the day seemed to fit the mood the weather provided; the universe simply wouldn’t allow it. Now was the time for the serious matter you came for; you were desperately trying to help Steve.

“Steve, you’re scaring the shit out of us,” Phil read bluntly from his letter to his best friend, trying not to let soft emotion seep into his tone. He knew he needed to be stern, but caring towards him.

The whole time he spoke, you wanted to devote all of your attention to him and Steve, but soon found that you couldn't. The constant thought of your unborn child was first on your mind, and although you didn’t want that taking over your thoughts, it was beginning to eat you alive. You almost felt like you couldn't hold the secret back any longer, despite only knowing for a day. In any other circumstances, it would have been so much easier to keep it secret. Today, however, was the worst possible day, with the worst possible scenario.

Every now and then, Joe would look over at you to see how you were doing, and turn back to not be conspicuous to everyone else. You could practically sense his growing worry. Going on in this manner for so long was starting to make your own unstoppable thoughts bubble to the surface. You couldn't hold out for much longer, and was even starting to think outside the box about your while situation. Was being with child really a problem? Did it have to be a bad thing right now? Could you actually find a way to rip some positivity from it all and shed some light on this situation?

That's when it hit you.

When Phil was done his speech, some silent tears were shed by everyone in the circle (including Steve). Near silence commenced afterwards (which only reminded you that there was no distraction from your thoughts now). You reached out to Joe slowly, and took his hand in a tight grip without looking at him. While you felt his eyes on you, you didn't dare look at him.

"Has anyone else got something to say to add onto that?" Peter softly asked, looking around the circle. Your heart began to pound; an opening for you was coming.

Phil slowly began to comment, looking at his feet, "Well, there's nothing I can say to get the point across any more. We can beg and plead all we want but the point still stands, Steve. I know you're not a fan of us guilt tripping you to hell- but we don't want to beat you up; that’s not what we came here to do. We love you, mate... so it doesn't matter whether or not we guilt trip you by saying we're worried sick, or- or..."

"I'm pregnant," you stated simply, closing your eyes and squeezing Joe's hand. While you didn't see it, you felt Joe inhale and look at you instinctively. For the single day that you were aware of your condition, you and Joe had feared the "p" word, and avoided using it at all costs.

Phil didn't entirely comprehend what you said, and kept talking on, "Exactly, even if we said that-"

"No-" you sat up in your seat and opened your eyes, now shaking again, "I mean... I'm pregnant."

You looked over at Joe, who seemed tired, yet understanding. Your eyes went down to his hand as you corrected yourself, "We're pregnant."

All eyes were on you now, but no one had any inclination to speak for a moment.

“Are you serious?” Mutt broke the silence in astonishment, “You're fucking with us right now, aren't you?"

“She’s not,” Joe shook his head, still fixing his loving eyes on you.

Steve looked at Phil and stated coldly, "I thought you said you guys weren't gonna make stuff up to guilt trip me."

"Does it look like I'm making this up?!" you snapped at him, anxious and shameful tears brimming your eyes. You looked around at everyone, landing your eyes on Steve.

"So you're serious?” he asked softly, frowning as he flicked off ashes from his cigarette, “You really are pregnant?”

You nodded, trying to hold yourself together.

“When did you find out?” Peter inquired gently, coming off as the most calm member of the group.

Your voice began to break as you told him with a sad chuckle, “Yesterday... we were waiting for the result of the test right when you called, Phil...”

Phil's eyes lit up at your statement, and he apologized, "Oh- fucking hell... Joe... you even said you didn't have time to talk... and what I said on the plane this morning- must've only made things worse... guys, I'm so sor-"

"That wasn't your fault, mate," Joe smiled sadly, "There's no way you could've known."

"It was just bad timing," you stared at Joe's hand in yours, feeling him shaking as well.

No one spoke for a while after that; no one could think of the right thing to say. It seems you both had scared them all into silence (even more than Steve had). Everyone in the circle couldn't speak because they no longer saw you and Joe the same way. A minute ago, you were still Y/N and Joe. Now, you were mum and dad. The others didn't know how to speak to those strange new people just yet.

“Well, congratulations, for one thing,” Tony broke the silence with a soft smile. A few muffled chuckles and agreements went around the circle, but it wasn’t what you or Joe wanted to hear.

“No, no, that’s not the point,” you threw your hands out in frustration, “We never even planned on telling anyone today! Don’t you guys see how suddenly life can come and go? Twenty-four hours ago Joe and I didn’t even have a child, and now we do. Twenty-four hours ago, we didn’t even think that there was a possibility of you dying-“ you pointed at Steve, giving him your own furious input, “-and now there is. It’s just all so surreal, but no matter how bad the timing of your life is, there’s always time to fight for survival. And that's exactly what we need to get a grip on right now.”

Steve put out his cigarette at this point, looking as if he were genuinely listening to you now more than ever.

“And I guess timing was a real bitch to us today,” you put a hand on your abdomen for the first time since you found out, addressing Steve directly, “But I’d say now you’ve got a little bit more to fight for. Just think about this whole situation; it’s not exactly a tale to be proud of. If this story keeps getting worse, and this is how it ends for you- I don’t want that to be the story of Uncle Steve. I want our child to be born into a world where you're thriving- where they... where they actually have an Uncle Steve."

You had hit a nerve (or a soft spot, to say the least). Before you even realized exactly what you had said, everyone in the circle was crying, including you and Steve. Joe looked at you with his face smothered in tears, but smiling, no less.

The seven of you remained like that for a minute or two, absorbing what had really hit everyone hard, and quietly crying your brains out.

Steve didn’t raise his head to ask you with heartfelt astonishment, “...Uncle Steve, really?”

“C’mere, you fucking idiot,” you sprang to your feet at one point and rushed over to him, taking him in your arms as he stood to take you in his without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“I love you so much, Steve,” you sobbed into his chest, “And I will always care about you. You mean so much to me, and I know you’ll mean so much to the baby, too.”

One by one, everyone else in the circle joined in the hug, each of them murmuring their love to Steve in their own affectionate way. Once you were all broken up, Joe embraced you himself and kissed you over and over again.

“Hey, back off from her,” Mutt teased, “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I still can’t believe you knocked her up,” Phil sighed with happy disbelief, “That’s something we only ever joked about!”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t have to be seen as a joke anymore,” Joe put his hands on your hips and smiled, tearing up all over again, “I’m gonna be a dad...!”

Peter chimed in, “Now that’s a bit scary.”

“It’s not scary,” you chuckled, stroking the back of Joe’s head, “It’s exciting! Timing is a bitch... but I think I’m ready for anything time can throw at me, now.”

Reaching that point of acceptance was a day-long journey that you thought would never have a final destination. All was nearly well in that moment where you and Joe hugged with a seemingly-changed Steve standing by. Right then and there, the future seemed bright for everyone; including your unborn child. An eternity went by in those two days you were gone for, and even though the next day you found out that your test result was a false positive, and Steve only lived for about another year, that false positive seemed to be just what you all needed to keep the world at bay.

The end

[lokigodofaces]

Okay people, time to talk about how Asgard makes no sense at all!

(I'm no astrophysicist or anything of the like, I just find all of that fascinating and therefore take the time to learn more about it. I can't go into the math or anything but I know the concepts of things).

Today we're talking about how gravity is so unbelievably inconsistent on Asgard and makes no sense!

Before we begin, let me define gravity. I know, you learned about it a million times in school, but there are things we forget about it. Gravity is a force that attracts objects with mass to each other. For example, the Earth has mass and therefore has a gravitational field pulling you to the core. You also have mass and have a gravitational field and are pulling the Earth towards you. But the Earth is much more massive than you, making your gravitational field basically negligible. Everything with mass has a gravitational field, and those interact with nearby objects. For example, there are gravitational interactions between you and the phone/computer/tablet you are reading this on.

The more mass something has, the stronger the gravitational field. That is why we stay on the surface, and why planets stay in orbit, and why black holes "suck" ("suck" is not a very good word to describe the process, but oh well) different objects in, and why galaxies hold together.

The center of gravity is created by two gravitational fields interacting. With you and the Earth, the center of gravity is almost exactly the exact center of the Earth. Not quite, but extremely close, because of how much more massive the Earth is. While objects with more similar mass have the center of gravity closer to the middle. For example, Charon, Pluto's moon, is about half the size or so of Pluto. The center of gravity between them is actually above the surface of Pluto. It's closer to Pluto than Charon, but their mass is so similar that they're actually both orbiting around a point in space.

Now that we have that out of the way, here we go under the cut because this is a massive post.

1) The planet's form makes absolutely no sense

Look at this!

What even is this? Asgard is a disk with an iceberg-esque part at the bottom and some land mass on the top. Which is problematic.

For one, gravity causes things to become spherical. Things, such as yourself, with lower mass don't have the gravity to become a sphere. This is why asteroids and some moons can have funky shapes.

Here are some asteroids. Ceres is the biggest asteroid and a dwarf planet, and it is almost spherical as you can see. The rest are a little funky. They don't have the mass, and therefore gravitational force, to be spherical.

Life evolves to live in the conditions it is in. We can't see ultraviolet light because our atmosphere blocks most of it. So why would we need that ability? Why would people that could see UV have a higher chance of surviving to reproduce? This is why we aren't ridiculously strong. We evolved to be able to work with what was needed. Which means we are suited for Earth's gravity. If it weren't for other factors like the suits, astronauts would be able to jump much higher on the moon because it is tiny compared to Earth, and our strength overcompensates.

If Asgard has low gravity, then it would make sense Asgardians would evolve for a low gravity environment. Which means they wouldn't become super strong. If anything, they could have serious spinal problems on Earth because of our gravity, assuming they didn't immediately collapse. And, um, that is not the case in Marvel. The opposite is true.

2) Inconsistent gravity is confusing

So, gravity is what keeps us on the ground, right? Well, that doesn't always seem to be the case on Asgard.

Not to mention the water constantly spilling off (also not astronomy related but where is that water coming from? And why does that water just disappear?).

Even if Loki was about as far as he could be from the center of gravity while being on the planet, even if Asgard has extremely low gravity and they showed it to us, this would still make no sense. Gravity should be strong enough to keep him on the planet.

And if it wasn't? Should've not been strong enough everywhere else on the planet. No one should be able to stay on the planet. It shouldn't be strong enough to have an atmosphere.

While with its shape Asgard would have unequal gravity, it shouldn't be this unequal. And, if gravity were weak enough for Loki to fall off, it should've been weak enough that he would've floated off rather than fallen off. Same with Thor. And Odin. And Heimdall. And literally everyone else to ever be on the bifrost. No one should be able to stand on the bifrost, everyone should float off into orbit. But that clearly doesn't happen because Asgard's gravity makes no sense.

3) 2+ nearby wormholes

There are at least two nearby natural wormholes.

We have a wormhole taking you from Asgard to Sanctuary and a wormhole taking you from Sakaar to Asgard. I am not including the bifrost, because while Selvig and Jane called it an Einstein-Rosen bridge (sciency way of saying wormhole), the bifrost is artificial, and not naturally occurring. Right now I am focusing on the naturally occurring wormholes. Also, we don't know if these are two way wormholes are blackhole whitehole pairs. Basically, the theory is that some wormholes could allow travel from both ends, kind of like the Nether Portal in Minecraft, and others are a one way ticket, with a blackhole on one end and whitehole (ejects mass instead of taking mass in) on the other. We've only seen these work one way, so they could be partially whiteholes.

So there are a few problems with all of this.

Blackholes distort light.

The top image is from Hubble. Do you see the circular-ness the photo is focused on? That is from a blackhole distorting light. The second is an illustration and not from Hubble so it's less reliable, but this is a more noticeable example. Basically, light has particles called photons, and blackholes absorb mass.

As you can see in the gif, stuff orbits around blackholes and slowly gets closer and closer to the event horizon. Once you get past the event horizon, there is no turning back. Light can't escape, which is why these are blackholes. Photons are distorted like this, which means that the light produced by nearby stars and reflected by nearby celestial objects is distorted, making them look off.

In other words, Asgard's light should be...interesting.

Another thing, Asgard should be orbiting around one of these blackholes to die eventually. Unless there's a bigger one, I would guess the Sakaarian wormhole if it were two way. If not, it'd orbit around the Sanctuary wormhole.

Having two next to each other would do crazy things to Asgard's gravity. The Sanctuary one would constantly be pulling Asgard towards it, and if the Sakaarian wasn't a whitehole, it would constantly be pulling Asgard and the Sanctuary wormhole towards it.

This is something I don't know as much about, but if the Sakaarian wormhole is a whitehole on Asgard's end, I would not be surprised if there were consequences. Lots of mass being ejected into the nearby space might have consequences, though this mass might be coming in subatomic forms and not be too harmful.

(Also Sakaar should've been torn apart by the wormhole leading to Asgard and possibly others. I'm just saying. This is an Asgard post but we gotta agree that Sakaar is also messed up).

Except that none of this is true apparently.

4) There is no way Loki should've survived.

When Loki fell into the wormhole he had two options: die a quick death or die a very quick death. Wormholes are awesome. Awesome in the biblical sense of the world. Which means they are utterly terrifying.

Quick Death: Loki should have been spaghettified (and also Asgard...and the Asgardians...but I'll let that slide since apparently Asgard has secret amazing gravity). Spaghettification happens as you get closer to a singularity and let me tell you, it is absolutely terrifying. It is my greatest irrational fear (irrational in that it will never happen to me). Basically the gravity of blackholes (and by extent wormholes) literally tears molecules apart. It starts with stretching the person/object out to make them long and thin, like spaghetti. A person would die during this first stage because our organs cannot handle this. And soon the body/object would fall apart on an atomic level.

Very Quick Death: Upon passing the event horizon (point of no return), Loki would go through a massive wall of fire, burning him to death and he would be spaghetiffied almost instantly.

So...yeah...how is he not dead?

5) Even if Loki could survive, he shouldn't have made it to Sanctuary

There are theories on how to make viable wormholes. I don't remember exactly how, but there are theories on how to allow someone to pass without being spaghetiffied or burnt to a crisp. But then there's the problem of it being impossible to reach the other side.

Basically the "pathway" between the two ends of a wormhole is infinitely small. In other words, Loki couldn't fit through it, and would therefore die. There are theories on how to counteract that problem, but the odds of a wormhole naturally forming like this are low. So, Loki should've died even if he got past the singularity on the way to Sanctuary.

6) Also there's the bifrost.

The bifrost is artificial. The problems about travelling through wormholes (spagettification, fire wall, infinitely small tunnel, etc) aren't there because Asgard built it as a way of travel. And since it was repaired by the Tesseract in between Avengers and Dark World, it might be a product of the Tesseract anyway.

With artificial devices explained by fictional science/technology/magic, I'm not as picky. It's science I don't understand because that's not science from this universe. But I do have questions about the bifrost. I don't fully understand how it could've destroyed Jotunheim. My thought was that it absorbed Jotunheim like a blackhole, but we don't see debris coming over to Asgard. How is it turned on and off? What consequences were there when it was destroyed? Is gravity all of the sudden strange when it turns on? I do like that it looks like people are pulled into the bifrost when it turns on, makes it more wormholey. But how did Hela knock Thor and Loki out of the bifrost?

I tend to forgive all of that because it's a fictional device. Just like how I forgive the gravity/blackhole bomb things the dark elves had. Those are clearly artificial and since we have theories on how those are possible I let it slide (though I find it interesting how the blackholes evaporate (that's the term for the death of a blackhole)). I actually headcanon the dark elves used gravitonium to create these devices. Gravitonium is an element introduced in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that has interesting gravitational abilities. It is 100% fictional, so I let a lot of it slide. But gravitonium is supposed to be a heavy element, meaning it wasn't created in the solar system, it was created by a supernova, so it has to exist elsewhere in the universe. Why not on Svartalfheim? But that's just me (there are actually lots of connections between TDW and AoS, specifically connections between Loki and AoS). But fictional devices are that: fictional. Whereas blackholes and wormholes are very real. Blackholes are confirmed to exist, and wormholes are theoretical with lots of evidence (Einstein created a list of formulas describing how the universe works, and wormholes work in these formulas. But that doesn't mean wormholes exist currently, have existed in the past, or ever will exist, we just know they're theoretically possible.). So I can be more picky about those.

Of course, I can watch these movies and still be entertained. I love these movies. But I'm a nerd that has to overanalyze everything and I specifically like space, and thus this post was born because Asgard makes no sense.

[literary-spirit]

"I'm sorry we couldn't offer you little more comfort while residing with us." Genuineness threaded itself through Torvi words as she watched while Bonnie settled herself behind Hali underneath the furs of unknown heritage.

A gratitude inspired smile made a conquest of Bonnie's lips. "No need for apologies, Torvi. Fact is, I'm grateful that you've allowed me somewhere safe to lay my head. Especially with everything being so new and unfamiliar."

Truth be sold rather than told, Bonnie didn't understand one damn thing about her predicament. One moment she lay bleeding out in her fiancé's arms in 21st century New Orleans, and the next she lay sprawled on Bjorn's ship during the freaking Viking Era. After some thought she'd begun to believe herself to be on the other side she'd created for Enzo, but there was a few sizable holes in that working theory. One, Enzo didn't hail from the ninth century so why would she tailor the world he'd spend his afterlife in after it? Two, she'd had the displeasure of being dead stranded on the other side a time or two and neither time did the imitation of life after death explode with a passion that could only be rivaled by reality.

No, Bjorn, Ivar, and Kattegat was real. It was all real! But on everything and everyone she loved she couldn't understand why. What did her giving up her mortality to become the immortal witch and finally embrace the prophecy have to do with this particular place in time?

"Bonsie?" The dulcet cadence of Guthrum's voice snatched her away from her thoughts. "Can you tell us a saga about your land?"

He and Hali stared up at her. The gleam of excitement tinkled bright in both of their eyes. She faked a sigh and played at reluctance with a roll of the eyes, all the while a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth for freedom. "Are you sure? Because you and Hali look really tired," she began tickling Hali who squealed and squirmed to get away, "And I don't wanna start one of my dull stories only to bore you both to sleep."

"Please!" They both squeaked in unison. "You have our vow we won't slumber before the end of your tale. Right Hali?" The blonde cherub face child with eyes just like his father nodded.

"Alright, but the vow I want from you is, that if slumber comes for you or Hali while I'm telling you the story you won't fight it," she said, her gaze moving from one boy to the other. "That's the only way I'm going to speak of this saga. I won't waste words on tired ears."

The boys stared at each other for a moment, before Guthrum looked back at her, "If our slumber takes us before the conclusion, will you continue when we rise?"

"Maybe not when we rise. You know, because we'll have to break our fast and I'm sure there'll be chores needing to be done-"

"There will definitely be chores needing to be done," Torvi confirmed as she watched from the bed.

Bonnie shrugged, tapping her chin while staring up at the ceiling of the keep. Her eyes flared as if the proverbial light bulb had erupted into a thousand ideas, "I know! If you fall asleep before the saga is finished, then I'll continue it tomorrow before we go to bed."

Guthrum looked to Hali, who nodded his head, "You have our vow, Bonsie."

"Okay," she held up her pinky. They stared at her finger for a moment then gawked at her as if she'd open a third eye on her forehead, "Well if you're giving me your vow boys, I'ma need a pinky swear to consummate your sworn oath."

"How do you perform such a ritual?" Guthrum asked, cuddling in closer.

"Hold up your little finger just like this." She wiggled her pinky. Once Guthrum and Hali raised their fingers, she entwined both of her pinkies with theirs, tugged and pulled away. "And just like that we have consummated our oath with a pinky swear."

"So, what of the saga?" Guthrum questioned.

"It's a story that takes place in a land where my ancestors once thrived. A continent called Africa," she began, "There a wise lion king was blessed with a cub who too would one day be king of everything the light touched in that land."

For the next thirty minutes or so Bonnie retold the story of the Lion King. By the time she reached the part about Scar throwing Mufasa off the cliff into the surge of stampeding antelope she noticed the boys had fallen asleep. Lowering her voice, she allowed her words to trail off, to avoid awakening the kids.

"Ack! Why'd you stop?!" Bjorn snapped. "Did Mufasa find a way to save himself so that he could exact revenge over his treacherous brother?"

"And what of poor Simba?" Torvi grilled, "What will become of him now?"

Bonnie's brows collided. She hadn't realized that they had even gave her a benefit of an ear let alone hung on to every word of the story. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you guys were paying attention."

"Why wouldn't we attend you, Bonnie?" Bjorn shot her one more unit before settling back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. "Are we not sharing the same space?"

"Bjorn," Torvi lightly scolded, cuddling down next to him.

"It's okay, Torvi," she said, rolling away to face the wall, "Bjorn's right. I'm wrong for not considering you both may wanna hear the ending of the story, but even if I wanted to finish it my sacred oath with the boys wouldn't allow me to continue until next eve. So, have a good night's rest and I'll see you both in the morning."

Bonnie allowed her eyes to close and not much later she dosed until squeaks, moans, and grunts ripped her from the verge of a deep sleep. Confused about why the hell she was on the floor instead of in Klaus' Californian King, her eyes darted around and then finally collided with a folded up Torvi getting piled drove by Bjorn.

When Torvi noticed her watching, she blushed and attempted to stifle another moan, "Apologies, Bonnie. We didn't mean to wake you with our coupling."

"It's fine," she said, not knowing what the hell else to say. It's not like she could go in about them banging one out in their own keep. Bjorn's lava hot blues bore into her, while he began to grind slow circles into Torvi. Bonnie attempted to clear her throat, but only managed a super dehydrated cough, "P-please c-continue—I-I mean if that's what you both wanna do. Not that I'm gonna keep watching or anything."

"Would you like to join us?" Torvi offered between gasps and moans. "Bjorn's vigor is insatiable. He would have no issues pleasuring you as well."

"T-That's not necessary!" Bonnie flopped back over on her side to face away from them, "You two enjoy, I'm good." She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to ignore the snickers coming from the bed as she willed herself to go back to sleep.

****

After daggmal what Bjorn called breakfast, Sigurd offered to be her guide while she explored the forest. They spent almost half the day trekking through the woods gathering recipes she would need for hygienic purposes and basic spells. For the first half of their outing, Sigurd merely helped and watched her without saying anything. When she'd had enough of him side-eying the hell out of her she spun on him without warning and he almost ran her down.

"What's wrong with you? Why do you keep watching me like I'm gonna turn you into horse shit or something?" She snapped.

His eyes flared, and he took a step back. "Can you?"

"Sigurd!" Bonnie stared at him for a moment like he'd left his mind back at Kattegat, before whirling around to continue her descend down to the cove. "Why did you come if you're so scared of me?" She tossed over her shoulder.

"Because I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I was hoping to plow you," he replied, following behind her.

"Men," she mumbled to herself. Then she raised her voice loud enough for him to hear. "So, I guess Ivar's telling anyone who will listen I'm a witch, huh?"

"Ivar?" He questioned as if he didn't know how one thing had to do with the other. "No, what's he to do with anything? It's Margrethe."

Bonnie stopped once more to turn and look up at him. "Margrethe? You mean the poor servant girl you all pass around like a waste bucket?"

"We don't pass her around and she says when you appeared out of air the gods let their displeasure be known by sending a storm to upset the sea," he walked closer, plucked the basket from her hands, intertwined their arms and guided her towards the cove. "She also said that the storm only went away when she mentioned throwing you over."

"You do understand Margrethe is madder than a bag of cats tossed in a barrel of water, right? Anything that comes out of her mouth is nothing more than rantings of the certifiable," she said, filing Margrethe away for a later day's problem.

Sigurd laughed. "Your turn of phrases are cutting. I've noticed that you wield your words the way Hvitserk swings an ax."

"Runs in the family," she said, distracted by the splashing she heard coming from the cove. "Shh," she stopped, halting Sigurd along with her, "someone's down there."

Stunned disbelief flared his eyes and dropped his jaw, "Really? Well, we should go-,"

"Yeah," her head bobbed in utter agreement, more than ready to turn around, "we should."

"And cut down the trespassers!" He finished.

"Wait, what?"

Without even a notion of a warning, he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran down the rest of the way to the cove. Once they cleared the woods and stepped into the enclosure of the inlet, he strode into the water with her. She caught an upside-down glimpse of Ivar sitting on the bank, while Ubbe and Hvitserk chased each other around in the water with long skinny sticks.

"Brother, what took you so long?" Hvitserk snickered as he bent sideways to stare her in the face.

Sigurd smacked her on the bottom. "This one wanted to pick every smelly flower in the forest."

"Sigurd, take me back on dry land," she said, pounding him in the middle of his back with her fists, "So help me, if you fuck around and drop me in this water and my hair gets wet, it's gonna be hell to tell the captain. And just in case you haven't figured it out I'm the motherfucking captain!"

"What's she going on about?" Ivar called from the bank.

Sigurd laughed, "She wants to swim."

Then he tossed her into the biting chill of the water. She emerged sputtering water and spitting mad. Their laughter only served to piss her off more. Hatemakers shot from her eyes like hollow points leaving the barrel of a glock. When she finally had Sigurd locked and loaded in her sights, she treaded water like she had an engine shoved up her crack and Bobby Boucher'ed his ass so hard he hurtled through the air. He smacked the water harder than Angela did Marcus, and he went under. Now it was her turn to laugh and do the fool she did. Ubbe and Hvitserk gawked at her as if she'd sprouted wings and a tail.

Sigurd clawed his way back to the surface gasping and coughing. "Who in the name of Odin taught you how to swim, Thor?"

The sound of laughter and clapping floated from the bank. Bonnie turned to see Ivar's incandescent methane orbs flashing hella bright. Yet somehow the brilliance of his smile rivaled even the bewitching dazzle of his eyes. He'd baited and hooked her without even casting the lure. Now the unexplainable pull between them would reel her in. Pushing the mass of dripping curls from her face, she began to walk toward the shore.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hvitserk whispered next to her ear, before scooping her off her feet, "You've a lesson to learn."

"Oh, Hvitserk, you just better bring it!" She yelled as she bucked and squirmed in his grasp, "That goes for your sisters too."

With that said he dunked her in the water, when she reemerged Ubbe had a hold of her, "Many apologies, my lady. You were saying?" He questioned, regarding her with eyes the same shade as a cloudless sky.

She gave him a closed lip smile, and then slapped her cheeks, allowing all of the water in her mouth to spray him in the face. When he released her, she dove under the surface, grabbed him by the ankles and snatched him off his feet, literally. Then she went after Hvitserk next. Anticipating an attack, he and Sigurd took on a defense stance. So, they planned to make this a joint effort. She gave herself a mental nod, noted. Tired of playing around, she hiked her skirts up just beneath the curve of her ass and knotted it high on her hip. Sigurd and Hvitserk exchanged a smirk. Not wasting a second she struck. First, she climbed, and then wrapped herself around Sigurd. In a maneuver reminiscent of the Black Widow, she used his body weight and gravity against him. Once more he soared through the air.

She turned to Hvitserk and he gave her the smile which let her know he thirst for blood and the rush. Yep, she'd saved the most savage for last. Leaping on him, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He automatically grabbed a fist full of ass. Sexual lust overpowered his blood lust. Big mistake. She snapped backwards in a back bend, the memento snatched him off his feet and he went free falling face first into some rather high-quality H2O.

While the brothers attempted to figure out which step led to their downfall, Bonnie left the water to find Bjorn standing on the bank. His look of indifference remained true to the inner workings of his mind.

"You move well," he said as he reached down to place one hand on a bare hip and the other on the knot that secured her skirt. In a swift tug he released the drenched material. "I've never seen anyone fight that way or toss about men twice their size."

A memory of Bjorn giving Torvi the business end of some serious wood flashed at the forefront of Bonnie's mind. Unable to maintain eye contact, she dropped her gaze to the ground, "It's nothing. We were just messing around; I'd hoped to learn how to manage one of their sticks." Ivar snickered and that's when she realized how it sounded. "You know...for fishing." She added to be Visine clear.

"If you're to learn to manage anyone's stick, it'll be mine," Bjorn stepped closer and crowded her personal space.

The heat which came off of him reminded her of the predicament she now found herself. She was drenched and it had to be every bit of fifty-eight degrees out and dropping. The boys came trudging out the water behind her.

Ubbe walked up on her until the hard press of his chest collided with her back. One of his hands moved to grip her neck, while the other rose to lay possessively across her belly. He lowered his mouth next to her ear, "The gods were with you this day, Valkyrie. Yet, we'll see what the morrow brings." He then released her and moved around her to sit next to Ivar.

"You think yourself clever with that trick in the water, do you?" Sigurd asked, while tugging one of her curls as he passed. "Well, I know a few tricks too and mine are sure to put you on your back as well." With his gaze still locked on her, he dropped down on the other side of Ubbe.

Hvitserk spun her around to face him. "One detail," he snatched her skirts up around her hips and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist. A sliver of space remaining between them provoked him to tug her closer until her naked sex pressed firmly against his bare lower abdomen muscles. On contact, the sinewy tissue flexed against her clit and try as she might, she couldn't stop the groan that burst from her lips. His eyes rolled closed, and gasps of air rushed from his mouth as he rested his forehead on hers. "I had to be certain." After a moment he allowed her body to slip from his.

"Of what?" She questioned, slightly swaying as she shifted her skirts back in place.

"I was home," he said, before stealing a kiss and darting away.

Something a breath away from recognition flared within her. She pressed to fingers to her lips to help preserve the feel and weight of Hvitserk's mouth on hers. Where the hell did she know his kiss?

Bjorn shot his younger siblings hell bred units. "Come, Bonnie. It's almost time for second meal and Queen Aslaug would like for us to attend her in the great hall...again." She didn't miss the annoyance which saturated his again.

"Alright, let me just grab my basket," she strode to pick up the wicker carrier and the world turned upside down.

Then it overturned and became consumed by Ivar's sculpted to perfection features. When she'd sacrificed her better judgement and walked too closed to him, he'd snatched her off her feet by an ankle. Once down on his turf, he'd flipped her over and yanked her to him like a virgin slated for sacrifice. Now he loomed over her larger than life. She'd played herself by forgetting he was the one to watch. The most dangerous of them all.

"I can see in your eyes you know your error is grave," he spoke to her in that soft accented tone that all ways fucked over her senses. "Next time you will not dismiss me so effortlessly because you believe me to be at a disadvantage, hmm?"

The sheer beauty of him outshined the ever-radiant torch she still carried for Niklaus. And Ivar the Boneless was right there! Right there in front of her! If ever there was a pass to be given for one indiscretion in a relationship, surely this was the time. Ignoring all the legitimate reasons as to why she shouldn't, she reached up and ran the pad of her index finger over one smooth brow. The perfectly arched hair felt silky to the touch.

Stunned, he stared down at her, confusion bunching those very brows while slightly parting those luscious lips. Her gaze flicked to the bottom one. It drew her thumb like a super magnet attracted to a pile of scrap metal. First contact almost made her swallow her tongue. Nothing could've prepared her for such fleshy softness. You'd think his lips had never known a day without Carmex. Damn, she had to know what it felt like to have his mouth on hers! Cupping her other hand around the nape of his neck, she used the hold to guide his lips towards hers even as she arched upwards to meet him halfway.

"Ivar, we have spoken much on you remaining free of mischief," Bjorn said, yanking Ivar off of her and plopping him back down on the plot of grass next to Ubbe.

Bonnie climbed to her feet, dusting herself off as she went. For a moment, their she'd almost pulled a damn Elena. Acting first and thinking never. Difference was she didn't have a scrappy side-chick running to have her back when she wrote a check her ass wasn't equipped to cash out. No! She needed to stay focused and figure out why the hell an immortal witch spell brought her all the way back to the Viking era. And it wasn't even the real Viking era. She was trapped in a television series loosely tailored after a raider who lived over a thousand years ago.

"Thanks for helping me today, Sigurd," She said, while allowing Bjorn to take her hand. "It would've taken me longer to locate the things I needed without you.

"You're welcome to my help whenever you have need of it," He said, grinning up at her.

Bonnie nodded then looked to the other brothers. "Ubbe, Hvitserk...Ivar," she held Ivar's gaze a moment longer than called for, before continuing, "thank you for being superb stress relievers." She wound her shoulders in counterclockwise circles as she cocked her head from one side to the other until she heard the pop. "Didn't realize how backed up I was until you guys worked me out a little."

"Then you should prepare yourself," Ubbe said, giving her a sideways glance, "for stress will no longer be a worry of yours." His bottomless cobalt glare, glanced down the length of her body before returning back to her face. Hvitserk and Sigurd snorted.

She held his gaze until Bjorn guided her from the enclosure of the cove back into the woods. Once out of his and Ivar's soul disturbing stare, she exhaled. For the next several minutes, she and Bjorn walked back to Kattegat in silence. After fiddling with the handle of the basket, attempting to work up the nerve to find something to say, Bjorn spoke first.

"I spoke with Floki today and he told me the fleet I commissioned won't be ready to sail until next Spring," he said, bending to pick up a stick from the path, "which is just as well, since Torvi is carrying again. I've already sent a messenger to King Harald."

"Wait," she stopped mid-step, "Torvi's pregnant?"

He walked a little further before he realized she'd halted. Once he did, he turned back to face her, his expression unreadable as ever. "Yes."

"C-congratulations, Asa's gonna be beautiful," she said, without thinking. Her mind to set on the fact she was adrift somewhere between season 4 part 1 and 2. How the hell would she navigate over the course of the year without knowing what happens from one moment to the next?

Bjorn cradled her face in his hands. "Are you saying this babe will be a girl?"

Damn! Well, the cat has left the bag. She nodded and a brilliant smile that could put the sun out of business blossomed on his face. His joy even provoked the corners of her mouth to travel north. "I'm very much proud to have boys, but after what happened to my first child...Siggy, it is my belief that by blessing me with a girl this time, the gods have shown me favor."

The blend of his happiness and vulnerability disarmed her defenses. She leapt into his arms, hugging him tight to her. The best her lack of height would allow anyway. All she wanted was to give him the comfort and support he'd shown her since her world went bat-shit. Bjorn, however, must've misread into things, because he had her pinned to the nearest tree attempting to raise her skirts.

He pressed kisses into the side of her neck as he worked to hike up her skirts and wrap her legs around him at the same time. "My man stand has nigh burst awaiting consent to plow you." He grind an oversized bulge into her bare center, and she squealed, not sure whether it was in delight or protest.

"Bjorn, I'm so sorry," she gritted through clenched teeth. Not trusting what would come flying out of her mouth if she opened it fully. "I didn't mean to lead you on. I'm a hugger." She babbled. "I only meant to offer you a hug of friendship."

He stilled and leaned away to peer down at her with a scrunched red face. "What?" Backing away, he let her feet drop to the ground. "Who in the name of the All-Father offers passionate embraces as a form of friendship?"

"Look, Bjorn," she lifted her chin, ready to no means no, his ass. "I'm sorry if you misread things, but you're married-,"

"Misread?!" His eyes nearly leapt from their sockets as he snorted his disbelief. "And what of all the lusty ways I notice you watching me when you think I don't see?"

She lied with a straight face. "You're mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken," he backed her into the same tree, "just last eve your eyes pleaded with me-,"

"And that's another thing," she said, cutting him off. "Don't take this wrong, because I'm grateful for you and Torvi's kindness, but when can we start on the restoration of Rollo's house?"

He stared at her a moment without saying anything. "We can begin soon after we finish daggmal on the morrow." Her head bobbed, and then she moved to step around him. He grabbed her arm to halt her movements. "Are you leaving my keep because I chose to lay with my wife?"

Her eyes bucked and she shook her head until she thought it would fly off her neck, "Of course not. I'm leaving because you both deserve privacy and not some stranger interrupting your lives."

"You're not a stranger, Mystical One," he rested his forehead on hers, "we're bonded by the oath we swore. You and I are a part of each other until one of us enters Valhalla."

[itoshit]

At the end I didn't write the dc stuff, will be for future posts, and I was eating that's why I took my time to come back!<3

I was tired, exhausted even.

The last three months have been hectic. We just recently discovered we had a mole in Bonten and that made me mad.

Fucking mad. Who the hell dared betray us?

After long sleepless nights searching and digging through all the possible files, cameras, and meetings to try to find who it was, I came to a conclusion.

My executives wouldn't work for someone else. But they had side chicks. A lot of them. And what was my surprise when I discovered the blonde girl from three months prior.

Her friend. What was the name of the girl I've fucked that night again?

Vee, yeah right.

Among the hundred footages I've spotted her with Sanzu in a bar, one where he used to go to get his dick wet.

Wasn't she with Koko?? But guess that bitches like her had their legs open wide for everyone and anyone.

'Koko, you know that girl right?'

Now all sat around thr huge wooden table, the Haitani brothers, Akashi, Hitto, Mochizuki, Sanzu and Koko and myself were discussing in emergency. Some of our personal data leaked and the fucker was still free in Japan.

'Yeah I do. Her name was Jackie if I remember correctly?'

Turning to Sanzu I showed him the same image.

'Jackie huh? She told me her name was Grace'

Manspreading I crossed my fingers on the table.

'Well visibly she lied to at least one of you. On these photos taken by our detectives it seemed like she was talking with one of the Yamaguchi-gumi's members. We all know who they are, I don't need to explain further. So the question is. Why the hell is she in contact with the strongest Yakuza family in Japan hm?? The one with which our relations aren't really good at that. Akashi, any idea?'

Silence settling between my men and I, I had my chin on my fingers.

'The most logical explanation would be that she took opportunity of both of our weaknesses. Koko, have you ever talked to her about Bonten?'

'Who do you think I am Akashi? I'm not dumb. She tried several times to get into my pants but I always pushed her away. I'm not a huge fan of escorts'

'That theory is at least confirmed right?'

'Yeah Ran. She has been spotted with political figures too. This bitch knows how to dive into business'

'Sanzu, did you have anything going on with her?'

Looking at my second in command I was waiting for his answer. This fucking mess was starting to get seriously on my nerves.

'Yeah we fucked multipe times'

'How could you explain yourself? You had sex with someone who fucked enemies and politicians??'

'Look Akashi, I didn't say anything to her. I just made her scream my name, I don't have anything to do with that shit'

Throwing a photo at him my patience was thinning.

'Seems like she gave you some drug though. Am I right?'

And that's when a look of realisation came upon his face. Gulping, Sanzu bit his lip. I knew what that I meant.

Guilt.

'Yeah-maybe. Yes she did. But it was nothing more that molly!'

'And how do you know that?? What d'you remember of that night??'

'... nothing'

I fucking tried to stay calm. I did my best really, but this bloody junkie was fucking with me.

'That night seemed to be your last with her, and she saw the Yakuzas not long after. You know what does that mean right? She drugged you and probably asked you questions about our fucking gang. But too high to realise it you gave in. That's your fault. You're the one responsible.'

'Sano, without disrespecting you, the girl you fucked three months ago. Wasn't she an acquaintance of her?'

At Rindou's question my legs stopped boucing and my breath stopped.

Could it be...?

'They were together in this... Fuck! I should have seen that coming'

Slamming my fist against the table I gritted my teeth together.

'Find these bitches and bring them back to me. I don't fucking care how you find them. You could tear their legs off their bodies for all I care but I want them alive. Understood??'

Sanzu sighted while the other nodded and stood up.

'Oh and also Sanzu. Take care of that Yakuzas shit. I don't want them to come at us.'

Leaving me all alone in the room, I slouched on the chair.

Eyes closed while remembering the night spent with her, I cursed at the feeling of my cock twitching in my pants.

'Are you fucking with me now...'

Standing up and leaning on the huge window, head resting on my arm I smirked.

'Guess I'll see you again pretty soon Vee'

-Mikey

MIKEY WAIT YOU GOT IT ALL WRONG IDK WHAT THESE BITCHES GOT GOIN ON—see how i always get dragged in stuff

We hadn’t seen Natalie in weeks. Every time we called her phone or invited her out via text, she always responded that She was tired. Busy. Not really feeling the club scene.

I knew they were all lies. Natalie was the partier of our group, the one who always knew the names of the latest clubs, which ones had the cheapest drinks. Or the strongest. Her strange absence took a toll on our group almost instantly.

Angel went hysterical. She was always closest to Nat, and Tati the one closest to the outside of the circle they navigated in as I was. So we both took it upon ourselves to go with Angel to Natalie’s house, confront her head on. We all met up their by our cars, pulling up to the condominium straight-faced, our worry masked deep within us. Tati and I, at least. The memo hadn’t reached Ang, who sobbed openly as she rapped on the door, screaming out for Nat so loud I wince. We all exhale when the door opens, but that relief quickly washes away at the sight of the small, wrinkled face woman before us— Aya, Bay’s housekeeper.

I’m sorry, Aya says when Angel nearly tackles her with questions about Nat’s whereabouts. She’s not home at the moment.

So she has been home then, I retort, watching Aya’s face drop. Like she wasn’t supposed to say that much.

I will tell her you stopped by, she answers, not really responding to what I’m asking. My eyebrows pitch up.

Ang tries to intercept her, barge straight into the house, but Aya is either deceptively strong or Angel’s awfully weak. Nat’s housekeeper wins the joust for the door easily, all professionalism gone from her face as she threatens to call the police if we don’t leave the property soon.

Tati hastily takes Angel to her car and I head to mine for the same reason: we don’t fuck with police. But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up, either. I send a call to Natalie’s phone, heel tapping as it rings once, twice, thrice and then… voicemail.

I’d usually hang up by then, but the sheer worry I feel for Natalie startles me into staying on the line. I guess we care about each other after all.

Natalie, I breathe after her automated message stops rambling about bullshit I could care less about. Where the fuck are you? Aya all but judo-flipped Angel for trying to come inside your place and look for you. Whatever’s going on, you can talk to us about it, but don’t shut us out. Especially Angel. You know she doesn’t deserve it.

I sigh when the beep comes in and hang up. The shrill ring of my cellphone echoes loudly. I scramble to lift it up to my eyes, heart dropping at the contact name.

Nat, thank God. Where are you?

I’m so sorry, Nat says into the phone shakily and just like that, worry worms its way through my gut again.

Huh? Natalie, what’s going on?

I should’ve never taken you guys to that club. I did everything to keep you three out of it, I promise. It’s just that he saw you, Vee and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I always wanted to keep you guys safe, you have to believe me, she sobs. The sound startles me. I hadn’t seen or heard Nat cry since she skimmed her knee in kindergarten.

What are you talking about? Listen, we were just outside your house. Aya’s taken over, isn’t letting anyone in.

You’re where? Her voice, wet with tears, booms with alarm. Venus, where are you?

I’m at your car outside your house. Nat, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.

Venus, get out of there. Get out of there now. Natalie sounds like she’s pulling her hair out on the other end. Goosebumps raise on my skin.

Natalie, what the fuck is going on?

They’ve been watching my house for weeks! Nobody was supposed to show up there! I told Aya to tell you guys that I went on a trip! Fuck, Vee, you need to get out of there!

Watching her house? I look around with the phone to my ear, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Everything looks like it always looks. I’m confused and afraid. What shit had Natalie gotten herself into?

I fiddle with my keys, not wanting to take the chance of waiting around and finding out. I can hear her frantic screams, they just make me panic more. I drop my keys, cursing as I bend to pick them up. When I raise them, a jeep slows a few yards away from my car. It’s big, black and the windows are tinted all the way through. Then the doors open, and three men all hop out, adorned in black and demeanors screaming menace.

I stay frozen in place. They’re staring at me.

They’re walking… toward me.

[just-my-fandom]

Telling the Paladins Your Pregnant Preference

Request; Can I be your first Voltron request? Reader being pregnant with the paladins baby and revealing to them?

They start getting shorter towards the end :/ sorry

___________________________________________

Pidge

"What're you gonna name him?"

Your eyes watch as Pidge pulls the small chip from the computer, grinning at her older brother and jogging up to him and the robot next to him,

"How about Chip?" She teases, holding up the chip between her fingers and handing it to Matt,

"You and your puns," Matt shakes his head, Pidge shrugging sheepishly and placing her glasses on the robots nose,

"Sorry, I just cant wait for someone else around the house," She hops on her toes, looking over at you when you stand from her desk,

"Maybe we wont have to," Chest tightening, you watch Pidge tilt her head in confusion, before she follows your hands placed at your stomach,

It takes her mind a full half minute to process your gesture, before she gasps, loudly, "Oh my God! It worked!?"

You nod, tearily, hand coming to your cheek as you sniffle,

"It worked!" Pidge turns to Matt sharply, grin hurting her face, "Oh my gosh, Im gonna be a momma!" She turns back to you, "You're going to be a momma!"

You laugh, Pidge running up to you, hands at your face, "This is amazing," She pecks your lips, "This small piece of tech could help millions of women wanting to be mothers," Pidge takes your hand, tugging you outside of the shed, "Mom! Dad! You're going to be grandparents!"

"It worked?" Samuel turns to the two teenagers, your eye's already red from tears of excitement,

"Oh that's great!" Colleen embraces you, your eyes pinching shut as your arms slide to her back, "Congratulations! If you need any help during the pregnancy dont be afraid to ask!"

Colleen leans back, hand wiping your leaked tears, "Now that means no more skipping meals and sleep to work all night, both of you, understood?"

She eyes Pidge,

"But Im not the one pregnant," Pidge reminds, Colleen rolling her eye's,

"Yes but Y/N is also going to become very moody and very touch starved. We dont need you out of her reach or snapping at her from being too tired," Colleen demands, your eyes looking at the ex paladin next to you,

Pidge crosses her arms, faking a pout, "Yes mother,"

Keith

Keith was easy to find. If he wasnt in his lion or with the team, he was either asleep, with you, or training,

He hasn't been in his room all day, and he hasnt seen you since lunch, so that only meant one place,

The training deck

Watching him clash bayards with the training bot, you lean against the thick wall behind you, twirling the small device in your hand behind your back,

You had woken up sick for the past week. Asking Coran and being placed in the healing pod for two minutes, Coran revealed you were in fact pregnant,

He had transfered the reveal to a smaller device, claiming it would be easier to show Keith that way, and calmly pressured you to talk to the Red Paladin

So here you were, face flushed with terror and stomach tightening as if threatening to puke again for the second time that day,

Keith watches as the bot vanishes in defeat, before his gaze finally catches you and his smile is back on his face,

"Hey," He pants, clasping his bayard on his belt and walking up to you, "Want to train?"

"I think I enjoy just watching you," You smile, placing your lips over his slowly, "I need to show you something,"

"Sure," He heaves, brushing black hair from his face and looking down at your extended hand, "Whats this?"

He lifts the small device, two pink lines visible,

"Coran gave it to me after I was put in the healing pod," You speak quietly, Keiths eyes snapping up to yours,

"Why were you in the healing pod?" His hand presses to your forehead, "You okay?"

"Im fine," You smile, "Keith, Im pregnant,"

"You're-" Keith inhales, looking back down to the lines, "You're pregnant? And its mine?"

"No its Zarkons," You shoot, rolling your eye's, "Yes its yours,"

"I'm going to be a dad?" Keith slides his hand into his hair, stepping back, "What if I become just like my father? Abandon you and the baby?"

"You won't," You grasp his shirt, pulling him back to you and placing his large hand at your stomach, "Because you aren't your father, you're Keith Kogane, the father to my baby,"

"This is the worse timing ever," Keith groans, head falling back, "You're not allowed to leave the ship, understood?"

"Yes sir," You grin, Keith dropping the device to cup your face and pull your lips back onto his,

Shiro

"I'm what?"

You step out of the healing pod, eyes wide on the red head in front of you,

"Pregnant!" Coran smiles, twirling his mustache in his finger, "And I hope its Shiros, no?"

"Of course its Shiros! Whose else would it be?" You grasp your hair, eyes watering,

"What's going on?" Shiro steps into the medic bay with Allura on his tail, catching you covering your face, "Is everything okay?"

"Wonderful, actually," Coran raises an eyebrow, "Congratulations,"

"On what?" Shiro furrows his eyebrows together, looking at you, "Y/N, are you okay?"

You slide your hands from your now stained cheeks, sniffling, "I-I dont know," You shake your head, Shiro looking at Coran before pulling you against him, "Coran, whats going on?"

"Well you see," Coran clears his throat, "Have You noticed Y/N getting sick lately?"

"Yes," Shiro nods, "But I thought it was just from the food goo. Maybe eating it too much,"

"Im pregnant," You pull back before Coran could reveal, looking up at the man, "Its yours,"

"Oh Y/N, thats great!" Allura smiles, Shiro blinking, his hands tightening at your waist,

"Pregnant? In the middle of war?" Shiro swallows, and you hug yourself, looking down,

"Y/N will be safe here in the castle with us, of course," Coran nods once, Shiro tilting your chin up so your eyes were forced to meet his,

"We'll work it out," His thumb drags over your cheek,

"You're not mad?" You whisper, Shiro smiling weakly and pulling you closer, lips bonding to yours,

"How could I be mad? Im going to be a dad,"

Lance

"No wonder the bed was cold,"

You glance up and over your shoulder at a voice, eyes landing on Lance standing in his plad blue pjs, "You're in here by yourself and not in bed with me,"

"Couldnt sleep," You force your lips together, turning back to the tea Coran had made you,

"Everything okay?" Lance pulls a stool next to you, sitting down and resting a hand at your upper back, "You look pale,"

"Im pregnant," You pinch your eyes shut, before turning to face Lance. His hand had retracted, eyes staring at your face for what seems like hours but its only a minute,

"Please say something," You squeak, eyes brinming with tears Lance instantly notices,

"No no no!" Lance quickly remembers it late at night, lowering his voice, "Dont cry," His hands slide to your face, laugh weak, "This is amazing,"

"It is?" You swallow, "But we're in the middle of battling Honvera, our reality could be destroyed,"

"All of that doesnt matter," Lance stands up, raising you to your feet and pulling you into his chest, "Because I know once we go back to earth, my family is going to be thrilled,"

"They're going to flip," You choke out a laugh, looking up at the boy, "I cant believe this is happening,"

Lance flashes you his famous grin, kneeling doen and placing his hands at your stomach, softly speaking a flurry of Spanish you dont understand,

Putting a hand in his hair, you sniff, Lance standing back up and pressing his lips against yours, eyes shutting,

"Too bad its night time and everyones asleep,"

"Whys that?"

"Because I really want to yell in Shiros face that theres a new Space Dad in town,"

Hunk

You hadnt meant to wake him up. He looked so peaceful in the three seconds you got to look at his face, before your body forced itself to the bathroom to kneel at the toilet,

You thought you were quiet, but the hair pulling itself from your face was an answer alone that Hunk had followed you to check up on you,

"Thats the third time this week youve thrown up," Hunk frowns, grabbing a hair band to pull your hair into a messy bun, "And its only Tuesday,"

"Guess I just have the jitters," You force a laugh, coughing into the toilet and groaning, Hunks hand running up your back, "Or the stomach bug,"

"I can make you some green tea," Hunk suggests, your watery eyes looking at him and catching his soft smile, "Itll help ease your stomach,"

You nod, wiping your mouth and flushing the toilet, taking Hunks hand to stand on your own two feet, "I'll go see if Coran can give me a check up," You put a hand on your stomach, Hunk wrapping his arm at your waist to help you out of your shared bedroom,

"You two alright?"

You look over, Pidge standing just outside her door and staring, "I heard someone running,"

"Sorry I woke you up Pidge," You say genuinely, Pidge waving you off,

"Can you make sure she gets to Coran okay? Im going to make her tea," Hunk steps back from you, Pidge taking his spot by grasping your arm,

"You know, I dont want to spook you," Pidge looks up at you, "But weird food cravings? Sudden tiredness? Sickness? I think you might be pregnant,"

"What?" You dont notice your knees buckle until Pidge has her arms at your torso, and Keith is running up to throw your arm around his shoulder and lead you to the medic bay,

"Oh quiznack!" Coran starts up a healing pod, waving you inside, "What happened?"

"Coran, I think Y/N's pregnant," Pidge admits her theory, the shatter of a cup making the three turn to face Hunk, his eyes wide and face pale,

"She's what?" Hunk squeaks, Coran looking over in time for the pod to ding,

"Yep," He leans back, your body stepping out, "Y/Ns pregnant. Three weeks exact,"

Your wide eyes look at Hunk, before you yelp when his arms wrap around you, lifting you up,

"Holy- this is amazing!" Hunk sets you down, grin wide, "I mean, Im not ready to be a dad yet but no dad ever is,"

"I'm pregnant?" You murmur, hand running through your hair, "Oh God, I need to sit down," You pinch your eyes shut, Hunk lifting you and placing you on the table nearest to the pods,

"Its always a shock at first to new mothers," Coran explains, Pidge bringing in a new cup of tea, "But you will both be great parents, I can reassure,"

"Im not ready to be a mom!" You cry out, "I'm only nineteen, I was wanting to go to college and get married first- you know if our reality doesnt get destroyed, which, how the hell am I supposed to fight Honvera if Im pregnant!?"

"Well of course you wont be fighting," Coran clicks his tongue,

"But we'll need Voltron, shes the white lion," Keith reminds,

"Can we focus on the bigger picture here?" Pidge snaps, "Theres a baby Y/N or Hunk in here," She grins, hand at your stomach, "Maybe she'll inherit Hunks cooking skills,"

"That would be amazing!" Hunk cheers, your tears visible in his eye's, "Y/N, you have nothing to be afraid of," Hunk places a hand at your cheek, wiping away a tear,

"But what if something happens? I lost my father to the military and my mom struggled to raise me alone," You grasp at his yellow shirt, sniffling into his chest,

"Hunk is going to be there for your baby," Pidge declares, "And thats a promise Im making myself,"

[stoopsbookstore]

The Fan (Chapter 2)

Warnings - Mentions of groping, accident at a performance

“Do you know what happened to your fansite, Y/N?”

Aya looked at her group member, scrolling through Instagram to see Milton's post, showing the phone screen to Y/N.

"Wow, he seems pissed," Y/N read the post, feeling uncertain about the post, "I mean, I guess it's sweet he cares enough to get mad over people trying to get upskirt shots."

"And he hasn't tried to grope her yet," Sanghee jumped over the sofa to sit next to Y/N, throwing her arm around her, "and if he does, I'm sure security will ban him like that guy who tried to go through our dressing room and sniff our underwear."

"Not funny," Y/N threw a pillow at the laughing Sanghee, hitting her face, "Yunhee was terrified, the poor thing wanted to escorted everywhere."

"She's our maknae, of cours-"

"To be fair, a 15 year old should be able to handle going to the bathroom without having a security guard stand outside the stall," Aya corrected Sanghee.

"Let's focus on something good. The previews of the photos are amazing! Look!" Chinsun hooked up her laptop to the TV, gleefully sorting through the photos, "Firethorn is amazing! Look at the angle on this one."

"Is he one of the guys from that ATEEZ studio Milton mentioned?" Chinsun opened a bag of chips, crunching them one after anothet, "isn't there a bunch of them?"

"However many there is, they take amazing photos," Y/N clicked the mouse, seeing all of the members throughout the year they've been together.

The group was broken out of their trance, their manager had entered the dorm's living room.

"We have to go, girls! 2 hours until showtime!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why am I being dragged along?"

Hongjoong was being pulled by Yunho and Wooyoung, the pair hurrying through the crowd.

"Because we need someone to hold our shit!" Yunho gave his camera bag to the older boy, looking through his camera, taking test shots of the arena, "I would've asked Seonghwa, but he's still upset about his camera."

"I would be too if some sleazeball pushed someone into me," Wooyoung snapped a picture of the crew setting up the stage.

"Well, I need to go take a piss, take your shit," Hongjoong handed Yunho back his luggage, handing to the bathroom before the performance started.

"He's going to miss the performance, he's not going to be able to get a good seat!" Yunho freaked out, waving his camera wildly and accidentally hitting a little fanboy who had been holding a sign for Yunhee, "oh shit, my bad, little dude. Here, you can have my lightstick."

The little boy stopped sobbing, snatching the Blossom Bong out of his hand, walking away from the tall boy, pouting for his father. The lights had changed to the group's signature colors, a dark green and a light mint, representing the stem of a flower. Erupting from the audience, the cheers drowned out the sound of whacks on metal.

Yunho's phone started buzzing, a text from Hongjoong appearing.

Dude, I can't get back in. They said once you're out, you're out.

Wtf thats bull shit! Its fine, the mall is just 2 blocks away, I'll go there, get some food, how long is the concert?

"Pick your petals! Hi, we are Bloom!"

Only about 90 minutes

ok, do you guys want anything?

Yeah, just get us some pizza. Ill text you when it's over. Sorry bro.

Its okay, Im not big on them anyway. And we'll have plently of more chances to see them.

Ok

After a few songs, the girls stood on stage to talk to the audience, a formality of their concerts.

"Petals, we are so proud of you," Chinsun had someone's camera, taking a selfie with Yunhee who was talking to the crowd, "because of you, we are able to stand on stage and dance, rap and sing, we're allowed to live our dream."

"Yunhee, you softie," Y/N was on the other end of the stage, holding a stuffed animal that someone had thrown on stage, "We may not have had a first win, we may not have a number one album, but we're with you guys and that's all that matters!"

"But I'm expecting a win for our comeba-"

Sanghee and Yunhee ran to Y/N, covering her mouth and dragging her to the floor.

"Just ignore her, she has a big mouth," Aya pointed her microphone at Y/N, the trio laughing on the stage floor, "she's always talking about crazy stuff. A comeback? Next month? That's insane!"

"But," the audience held their breath, Yunho and Wooyoung's camera clicking photos, a smug grin adorning Chinsun's face, "do you want a preview?"

The crowd roared into a thunderous applause, the girls gathering at center stage, waiting for Aya to come to them.

When Aya was about to step on the platform, it had collapsed, causing her to fall six feet onto her ankle.

"Fuck!" She had screamed in pain, the other members being held back by security as backstage crew helped Aya to her feet, her ankle throbbing in intense pain, "my leg! My fucking leg!"

"Holy shit!"

Wooyoung and Yunho saw the incident, Aya just a few feet front of them. She held her ankle when a security guard came, picking her up and bringing her offstage. The rest of the members were in a circle, talking to each other when their managers walked up, pulling them off stage. An announcement came up, the audience groaning and booing at what the voice had to say.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances, we have to cancel the rest of the concert. Check your email for any information about refunds, exchanges or other opportunities. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Yunho's phone vibrated, Wooyoung snapping a few photos of the downed platform.

"Dude," Yunho looked at Wooyoung with a disappointed look, the younger male lowering his camera in shame, "it's Hongjoong. Come on, let's go."

What happened?! Im in the lobby and heard a crash!

Aya got hurt! The stage fell

how did the stage fall?

I dont know. Theyre kicking everyone out and Bloom was pretty much ripped off stage. Its fucking bullshit, but I hope Aya's okay.

How is everyone else? Hows Yunhee hows Y/N?

Theyre fine from what we saw, a bit shaking. Where are you in the lobby?

Near the dipping dots

"Do you think that Milton guy will have something to say?"

"I don't think I even saw him there," Wooyoung mentioned the apparent absence of the fansite master, "I wonder if he had to do something with it."

Yunho scoffed at the theory, spotting Hongjoong in the disgruntled crowd, passing by the little boy, who was now full on pouring out tears.

"He may be crazy, but I don't think he would be that crazy."

"Who?" Hongjoong sipped his soda, Wooyoung taking his drink while the trio watched the people leave the arena, "that White Jasmine guy?"

"Yeah, he wasn't there," Yunho checked his phone, "no post either."

Hongjoong, Yunho and Wooyoung begun to hid out to the car, the cloud hanging out the parking lot dark and gloomy as the cries of little boys and girls could be heard for miles. Yunho started the car, Wooyoung getting in the back while Hongjoong turned on the radio, the car filling with one of Bloom's b-sides.

"Not now," Wooyoung reached between the front seats, switching it to classic music.

The rest of the ride spent in tense disappointment.

[the-weeping-fox]

you save yourself.

I'll save myself this time around.

i had a feeling id hear from you on my birthday.

i thought id get a call or text though. so not winning big on that bet.

it still shakes me pretty bad.

i wonder if you knew how obsessed I was with you.

i know you have an idea, but i don't think you'll ever really know.

nothing scary. just... an overabundance of love and affection. you were my air. i wanted to breathe you in.

thought I smelled you for a second the other day when I was cleaning out my room.

its hard. I miss my best friend. I miss the love of my life.

heard your sister got engaged. bout time.

i wonder... if things never went sideways with us.. would we be married now? im sure we would've come around.

but i think thats a silly thought.. i think we were always sideways. even in the beginning. fighting and begging you to date me. christ.

hard memories and harder feelings.

lots of things have been happening to me and for me. things I wish you could share in. places I see your shadow.

waiting to schedule therapy till after my move. been processing alone. its hard. even with people who care. im trying to let go of the anger.

im really angry you hurt me. no matter how you slice it, you put me through some really awful things.

I would tell you that I had a theory that as someone got older, they would learn how to feel another Feeling simultaneously. Like, if you were 30, you could potentially feel 30 Feelings at once. Maybe some overlapping, maybe some individual.

I say this, because I feel like this is how my feelings towards you are built. I have this structure of Love and Friendship that we originally built, through fun sex and taking care of each other. But then these other really horrible feelings of Betrayal and Angry due to.. everything that happened.

I just... i was your sweet boy and you lied and hurt me. Ill never understand. I feel like a kicked Kitten. I try and put logic to it, but it just hurts me more.. trying to make sense of it. trying to put your shoes on and see it from your eyes... hurts. i don't know if ill ever understand how you could it and live with yourself.

i had some part in all of it too. i don't want to spend my life as a victim. i put so much love and faith into you. and the one thing I needed... you couldn't do.

i remember you telling me.. that sometimes I needed to just sit down and say, "you'll be okay. I love you. we'll figure it out and be okay." and that's what I needed. i was so lost in my own sadness and anger that I couldn't tell you I needed it.. but that was it. i needed to see your heart again.

anyways. i don't really want to harp on old shit. i do it 24/7 in my own head as it is.

you deleted your tumblr. never ceases to make my heart ache. but you reached out on my birthday. its.. a strange and potentially painful move. you know your number isn't blocked. so there's still a distance you want to keep. I've come to my own conclusion that it was a Bait. I responded on my old Tumblr... but after spending days pouring over the hint of a response.. i realized how gross that was and is.

I hard-loved you. I loved you with a ferocity I have never shared for anyone else. you were my one and only. I wanted to drink you in. I've had a painful time quitting you. I watched our videos... a lot. I wish i had made 1,000 more. I think i gave up trusting you somewhere along the road.

but... dangling that message.. that "but..." was... awful. I dont know if it was an open invitation to contact you or.. what. but it was.. it sucked. I would have rather had a phonecall or text or something. i don't know. I guess tumblr was the only place we could actually communicate, so maybe this was the best avenue.

I miss you. A lot. All this time and silence gives a lot of perspective. I miss your voice. i miss your smell. I miss your body. I miss your snores.

But another point of perspective is that you gave up our life. You sold that house. You got a new place that you wouldn't reveal the address to. You got new friends. You were walking away from me and us for a long time.

I get why. You spent a lot of time as the quiet girlfriend, waiting for me to tell you what I needed. but read that last sentence aloud. I was hurt. I was damaged. I wasn't going to ever be able to tell you what I needed. I needed your heart to call out to me, and it was the one thing you wouldn't do.

I hope Mittens is doing well. I cry when I think about her not being in my life. I hope I get to see her again before.. well. before anything happens to anyone.

Anyways. after I left my response to your Tumblr message... i... stopped checking it. You might have even responded. I won't know though. I probably won't know until our anniversary. I'll be there, by the way. Ill be in the spot where we figured it all out the first time. Probably get lunch and spend the day in that parking lot. I know you're not the emotional type like that, haha. Id be shocked. floored probably. might even hear me actually gasp.

...

I wouldve been a really good quarantine boyfriend. I really wonder what you think of me. what you honestly think. I mean.. it has to mean something that you left a message for me. Maybe you can't get our memories out of your head either. Im sorry if you thought I might have been trying to use you for sex or something near the end there. I wonder if that's how I came off. It wasn't how I meant to. Sex was just.. a really straight forward expression of our love and.. always felt safe and good with you. Ive had a lot of trouble trying to make that connection with anyone else. They aren't you and... i need to figure that out.

Things with Kat never came to fruition. she didnt really liked that i was too fucked up over you, haha. that would probably make your evil little heart jump. You beat Katherine in my mind. Maybe that can put how I feel about you in perspective.

I also wonder about letting you know about this blog? Maybe. Maybe as an anniversary present. But I cant imagine you want anything to do with me anymore. I really tried to salt the Earth when you left. I could feel how addicted I was to you. I had to for my own good. I wasn't strong enough to quit you.

shit. i still don't think I am. I dont even know if ill be able to move on. I dont want to. I miss you. I want to try and use my angry to curve that feeling, but love is stronger than hate. it always wins out.

so I guess I'll just keep pretending that you had my kid in some alternate universe and cry to my new friends about how some blonde girl shattered my heart.

I hope... youre okay. I think i mean that. its hard in here.

[fangirlish33-blog]

Loving Blindly

Harry is intrigued by a blind! Y/N who is very passionate about life. 

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic ever. I'm so excited to share it with you and I hope it reaches out. Initially I didn't wanted to write it but I just started and it took me about a week to complete this first part. A massive thank you to @loveandyourstrulyh for the pushing me to write and beta reading this. You have my heart Yev! and secondly, I want to thank @waitingfortwilight who wrote this amazing masterpiece Subtitles  which gave me inspiration. Make sure to read Kates entire masterlist! Taging @isntshelovelyharry because I told her I'll write a fic exactly one month and four days ago and she told me to tag her. 

PART 1: Word Count (2k+)

Los Angeles is no doubt a celebrity’s favorite place apart from New York. Just like that, it was Harry’s favorite for two reasons, one; access to his favorite studios and two, coffee shops. Whenever he would come to L.A for holidays, he would always go to different coffee shops. But today he wanted to go to that one shop where he felt like home. He finished his morning work-out earlier than usual, so he took a shower and decided to jog to his go-to place, ‘Dorothy’s Garden’.

Not only did Harry loved the coffee and those delicious chocolate chip cookies but he also loved the whole setting of this coffee shop. The shop is situated a little out of the main city, blocking it from the usual buzz of people and bumper-to-bumper traffic. The entrance is lined with flowers of different kinds. The path leading to the front, glass door is hidden from the sky by green, giant vines of Virginia creepers.

Harry was introduced to this place by Mitch when they were writing songs. Mitch had spent time in the coffee shop before because the owner of the shop, Dorothy, was his cousin. Harry soon grew fond of this place. It provided him the right amount of focus and calmness to pen his feelings in the form of verses.

Harry pushed the glass door open, the attached bell dinging, announcing the entrance of a customer. Dorothy emerged from the kitchen which was hidden, to attend to her customer, “Ah… I was expect-”, her sentence is cut “Harry!”, she shrieked and hopped a little, like an excited fan, her excitement telling her that she wasn’t expecting him. She wasted no time in opening the small door separating the counter from the shop and pulled him in for a hug. He hugged her back. Her blonde hair is shorter than last time. One thing that is always different in the woman he has arms around. But some things that don’t change is her attire, love for him and the warmth of her hug.  

“Well, g'morning to you too Dotty,” she detached herself from him, looking up at him. “I wasn’t expecting you, like at all,” she waved her hand. “ Yes, I can see that from all the shrieking you did right there,” he mimicked her, “And the fact that you said you were expecting someone, while clearly, it was not me.”

“Oh, that’s Y/N. She’s my new customer. Usually, come around this time. I was preparing her order but, now I guess I had to make another one.”, she smiles at him.

“So, you’re earlier than usual in this visit.”, she says, as she stands with her back to the counter.

“Wow, so now you count how many times I visit, huh?”, he teased her, arms crossing on his chest. “I mean, yeah I do sometimes when I miss you. But, see here’s the thing, last time you visited me with a gap of a month was when you had a break-up with tha’ Kardashian chick.”, she air-quoted.

Harry laughed at her comment. She gestured towards the nearby table and he took a seat. She, on the other hand, took a wiping cloth and initiated mission 'cleaning the tables’, she did double clean always once in the morning after the opening and one after closing. She started from the one Harry was sitting on. There was no one in the shop except him and Dotty, he blamed that on the early time and due to the fact that it was Saturday otherwise, she was always snowed under a lot of work.

“First off, she’s a Jenner.”, he raised his index finger, “and secondly, her name is Kendall.”, he raised his middle finger along with index, “ and thirdly”, he sighed,  “ I don’t wanna say it.”, he spoke slowly, “but you’re right, I had a break-up.”, he pursed his lips together. Dorothy’s eyes widened. “Bad one.”, he added. It’s not like she didn’t try, she tried her damndest, but she gave up, laughing hard.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay stop. Like I’m so upset!”, he exclaimed, slapping his palm on the table lightly. She took deep breaths and at last stopped her high-pitched laugh. She moved across the tables and sat on the chair right beside him. He was pouting slightly. She smiled at him.

“Okay, I was seriously joking.”, she leaned against the back of the chair, “What’s the bird’s name?”, she asked him.

“Camille.”, he sighed heavily, “She was a blonde too.”, he says flatly

“Was she? Never heard of her. Seriously.”, she spotted dirt on her side of the table and wiped it quickly, “ Wait! by stating that she’s blonde you wanna tell me that my theory is correct?”, she asked enthusiastically.

“Well, yeah I guess.”, he says, “I mean, I’m still a good friend with Kendall.”

“And she wasn’t a blonde.”, you point out.

“Exactly. But, Taylor, Cara, and Camille are all blonde and well.”, he sighs, “they all ended up drastically.”

“Well I can’t tell you to stop dating blondes, But really Take. A. Break.. ”, she said, stressing each word. “It’ll be difficult to keep tha’ in your pants.”, Harry looks down at his crotch instinctively, “ I know it’ll be hard. But, you gotta do it.”, she teases him.

“Stop that!”

“You!”, she point at him, Stop whining. It'll be alright don't you worry, okay?, he nods his head. 

“Good! now let’s get to business. Should I bring you your espresso with thick forth and those creepy ingredients you love?”, she scrunches her nose.“ Hey!”, he tries to act offended.

Dotty opens the small door without waiting for an answer because one year of staying with a dork that Harry is, is enough to know a simple answer from him. She enters the kitchen while Harry pulls his phone out of the pocket to see some messages from producers who are working with him on his second album.

***

You are usually accompanied by your friend to Dotty’s but today she didn’t come so you decided to go on your own. Your mother tried to stop you but failed. You knew she cared about you that’s why she didn’t let you go alone. But it wasn’t helping matters. In fact, it was making you more sheepish, whiny and lazy. All the traits you hated.

When you were a child, you hated it. Hated the darkness always surrounding you. It was everywhere. By the time you turned a teenager, you realized it’s not about the light in eyes, it’s about the light inside hearts. All the bullying and teasing for sole reason of lacking a sense. The thing you have no control over, made you stronger. Stronger than other women of your age and now at the age of twenty-three, It doesn’t even matter. You just let the whisper blow in the wind.

You take a hold of the cool, metal handle and push the hard door open. The difference in the air is mesmerizing you. Harry’s attention is diverted when you enter the shop. He is watching you as you take a deep breath. The cane in your hand and the certain way your eyes move showing him that you’re blind.

Usually, Amanda, your friend would make the order and let you sit but today it was different. You come to a halt when your cane is blocked by a hard surface. Taking this as a cue, you call Dorothy in a slow voice. “Is anyone there? Dorothy?”, you ask. When you lack a sense, all the pressure comes to your other senses. You can’t see but, this makes your hearing strong. Stronger than an average person. It’s strange but it also makes you able to feel presence, if someone is staring at you.

“Um… hey, are you Y/N?”, a deep, male voice comes from just a few feet distance startling you a little. You whip your head in the voice’s direction getting the hint that he was probably the one staring at you.

“Yes, I am.”, You’re certain that you’ve never introduces yourself to that voice but, you’re also certain you’ve heard this voice before. The deep, husky voice seeming oddly familiar to you. Like… Like you’ve heard this voice a thousand times before in the form of a record. And it hits you.

“Are you… Harry Styles?”, You asked hesitantly.

Harry lets out a quiet laugh. He can’t believe you recognized him without seeing him, not even once. But, then maybe you can see and the cane was not for you to use.

“Um… yeah I thought you can’t see”, he stops himself and covers his mouth with his hands but the words already tumbled out. He looks at you with wide eyes and quickly tries to compose a response that is more appropriate.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”, he apologized.

“It’s okay. It happens. But I can hear you, right?”, you put on a smile to let him know that it was okay, that you didn’t mind it, not even the slightest.

He replied with a small, sad “yes”. “Just on time!”, you heard Dorothy’s voice echoing, “How are you?”, she asked before she pulled you in for a hug and then took you to the nearest table. You think it is the table where Harry is sat because you can feel his presence. “I’m fine Dorothy. What about you?”

"Never better. By the way, Where is Amanda? Not in the scene right now.", She asks.

"Oh, she was sleeping. So, I didn't woke her up."

Dorothy looks at Harry, smiling seeing him watch you speak.

She introduces you to Harry and asked if you’ve listened his ‘boring’ album to which he probably reacted in some ‘unnoticeable’ way because you can hear a grunt from him. “His album isn’t boring Dotty. It is one of the best from our type of generation who has no taste in music.”, you praised him and it’s not like you are trying to gain brownie points in front of him or that you’re his fan because you’re none. You’ve never even heard about him but, your friend was his fan. So, when she bought the album and played it, you can’t help but see how genuine his music really was.

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”, Harry speaks. He extends his hand, a normal habit, he guesses. He waits until Dorothy picks your hand and places it until it is in Harry’s hand. Realization hits him like a truck that you cant see him. He makes a mental note to keep it glued in his mind for future. Although he is pretty much sure there will be no future.

You take his hand shaking it slightly. It felt as if chills ran down your spine. The simple feeling of his soft hands upon yours felt different, so different from the other men you’ve ever touched. It felt right. A small gasp left your lips and despite it being small, Harry notices it and smiles to himself. Not only does he notice the gasp but, he also notices how your cheeks turned rosy pink after just a slight contact. He is shocked by your reaction to him, wondering if it is normal.

Although, his shocking is cut-short with your reply of, “Pleasure is all mine, Mr. Styles.” He suppressed a laugh.

“Oh no, please call me Harry.”, he insists. Harry is sure he has never seen a pair of more beautiful eyes. He loved the way your eyes moved, saddened to realize that they can’t see the world. Saddened that despite being there, they provided you no light.

“I’m sorry for being extra late today in bringing you coffee.”, Dorothy apologized, before handing you a steaming coffee cup.

“No, it’s alright.”, you say and Harry mutters a small thank you, most probably to Dorothy. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you do that feeling thing on Harry you did with me the other day?”, Dorothy shocks you before taking a sip from her cup.

“Um…no, I don’t think so. It’s not necessary, I… I can hear him”, you shift uncomfortably on your seat. You can’t do that on him because he already feels different. You felt different when you touched his hand, you can’t fathom the feeling of touching his face.

“Oh c’mon. It’s okay.”, Dorothy huffs, dragging the ‘okay’ a little longer.

“What ‘feeling thing’?”, Harry asks curiously, his interest is piqued.

“Oh… didn’t I told you before, she touches ones face to feel how they look.”, Dorothy wriggles her eyebrows at Harry. “Really?”, he is pretty much sure he already wants that, “Yeah isn’t it cool. I mean it’s helpful for her.”

You can practically feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. You don’t want to do it but, at the same time, you do. You hesitantly nod your head when she begs you to do it.

You raise your free hands in the air towards him. At first, they just roam in the air but then Harry takes a hold of your wrists and direct them to his own face. You let your fingertips graze his forehead. His skin is soft but clammy due to perspiration. You move your fingers further down his eyebrows, letting them fall on his eyelids as he closes his eyes upon touching, you graze down to his cheekbones but stop when they fall on his upper lip, he instinctively wets his dry lips. The tips of your fingers drag on his lips which are slightly wet. His lower lip, broader than the upper one and soft. So soft. His beath fan across your tips which you gently move down. Ending the journey at his chin, you lift your hands from his face.  

Harry's breathing is erratic and he is trying to control it by taking a deep breath. He is trying his best but, right now he desperately wants to shout or moan or just do something in order to relieve some of his pent-up frustration. He is pretty sure no one has ever touched him so smoothly yet, carefully and it was just that; an innocent touch yet, he felt its effect down to his bones. He can’t help but remember that your fingers had just stopped at his eyes and lips a tad bit longer. His heart is still beating way too fast and he is curious about yours. Curious, whether yours is beating like that too.

A voice of clearing throat pulls him out of his fantasy. He looks around and notices that Dorothy is standing behind the station and his co-worker has now arrived. They are preparing drinks for several people who are sitting on various tables. "Did you say something?", he asks you as there is no one else who will clear their throat to get his attention.

"Yes. What is your eye color Harry?", you were almost afraid to ask but, you did at last. You just wanted to complete the feeling as there was just no image. What is even an image?He didn’t respond when you asked for the first time so, you just cleared your throat.

"Green.", he replies. Green must be a beautiful colour that is why a man whose soft like him got it. You're sure you don't even need eyes to tell that he is in fact handsome. A kind of handsome that people call hot. You nod your head indicating him that you understand, but clearly didn’t. To you green, blue, white, orange all are same. They are all colors. The only difference is the name. But, only for you.

You take the last sip from your cup and place it down. "Are you a student?", he asks timidly.

"No, I'm an ASL teacher at a deaf school.", you tell him. You can call yourself lucky in that sense. When you tell other people who are blind, they are shocked because most of them remained jobless for a long time. Job opportunities are scarce for people like you.   

Harry is sure his eyes will pop out of there sockets. "What?", he is baffled by your response.

" ASL stands for-”

“I know what it stands for. I’m just… shocked.”

“Why is everyone response is surprised when I tell them I'm a sign-language teacher?", you laugh.

"I mean… it is a surprise.", he smooths his hair from his forehead, "Like… you can't see and you teach children who can't hear. It's just…", he sighs. He's clearly shocked to see a woman like you. So powerful and headstrong. He was even more astonished when he hears your response to what he said. How can one do so much for her community and be humble about it? Harry wondered. He took the time to admire your beauty and he only knew you for a short time though it seemed like hours had already passed.  To him, it's endearing and is encouraging him to know you more. More than already. He is pretty sure that he will stick more than one mental note for future reference.

"It's what Harry?", you ask him again.

"It's endearing Y/N. It's bloody amazing."

***

Share with me what you think about Loving Blindly, here!