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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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“Corn Syrup, Like in Carrie” | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey my lovelies this is my fic for @hellotvshowtrash ‘s March Prompt Challenge— I hope you all enjoy and especially you, Ash! I literally wrote this in a few hours so I hope it isn’t terrible; I wanted to make sure I actually submitted this month though because you put a lot of hard work into making fun things for us. I haven’t written for these boys in a while so this was nice :)

Description: Y/n drags Kol into a plan that is more dumb luck than actual planning— is it even a question that he would be willing to help?

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and death but in a casual, funny way (sadistic but funny), this might be the grungiest thing I’ve written to date

Word count: 1.99k (it’s literally 1999k, I pushed this as far as possible)

Tags: Fluff, a lil angst if you squint (squint is used loosely here)

Prompt: “This plan of yours is going to get us killed. Of course I’m in.”

Kudos if you get the picture easter egg!

“You want to do what now?”

She huffs but the wicked smile on her face carves through the annoyance— of course she isn’t actually exasperated with him.

“You heard me Kol— I want to scare him!”

The brown eyed vamp rolls his eyes but his own grin is just as cunning. She can see the spark in his eyes, that little glint that lets her know everything she needs to know— lets her know that he’s in.

All in.

“You know that’s impossible darling,” he toys, his smirk too coy for a man over a thousand years old. “Klaus doesn’t get scared.”

She laughs— that’s what he thinks.

Kol’s brows push together, the glint growing alongside his smile, his sharp teeth poking into his lip. “I know that look— that look is never good.”

She meets him where he leans against the countertop, hopping up beside him and wrapping her arms around his cool shoulders. “Oh it’s good alright, Kol-y. I think you’ll like it very much.”

He turns towards her, running his nose across her jaw, peppering a few kisses against her skin before tilting his face up. “Well out with it then, darling— what’s the plan?”

She giggles, pressing her lips against his quickly before pulling back, pecking the vampire’s nose when he scrunches it. She shakes her head at his puppy dog eyes— easily distracted, that one is.

She leans down, whispering her idea into his ear, her chest blossoming with warmth when he shivers against her lips. She can’t tell if it’s because of how close she is or because he likes her plan— both, most likely. When she finishes speaking she nips his ear, tugging gently before releasing him. He groans when his ear meets the cool kitchen air, twisting to push between her legs.

He leans down, pressing his lips against her again. She can taste the mischief on his lips, tangy and sharp— someone has been eating blackberries again.

“You’re a menace darling.”

“Hmm—” she hums her agreement against his berry lips— “I learned from the best.”

He chuckles and this time she shivers, his lips trailing down her neck. “Is that so?”

She pushes against his chest, trying to regain some of his attention. This is important. She slips her fingers into his soft hair, knitting them between the strands and tugging until his baby browns meet her gaze. He sighs, his smile less menacing and more longing than moments ago. He raises his brow, his eyes flitting to her neck before going back to her eyes— are you going to speak or can I go back to what I was doing?

She huffs.

“Are you in or not, Mikaelson?” She grinds out as he tugs against her hand, just barely nipping at her sensitive skin.

He groans when she pulls her throat away from his ministrations, finally standing straight again. His hands slide up the sides of her neck, smoothing against her jaw, fingers hooking behind her ears.

“This plan of yours is going to get us killed, darling.” His soft grin sharpens as he speaks, the glint resurfacing in his eyes. To her it makes him look beautiful. It makes him look dangerous. “Of course I’m in.”

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

“Alright,” Kol announces, his cheerful voice drifting from the entrance to the compound to where she lays in a heap next to the couch. “He’s coming down the street now— I can hear him on the phone. I think he’s talking to Elijah.”

She can’t see the vamp but she knows that the mirth in his voice is much too extensive considering what they are about to do. Oh well. She raises a hand— she can’t speak with the blonde who’s now on their street hearing— signalling for him to get into place—

—and for him to dump the bucket of corn syrup, red dye number five, and just enough of her blood to make it smell real all over her body.

It goes on warm and sticky, scarily similar to actual blood, drenching the t-shirt she has decided to sacrifice. It’s for a good cause, she has to remind herself. Her skin itches where the mixture clings to her and she has to keep from giggling, her shoulders shaking. This had better work.

Kol’s boot nudges against her butt, tsking as she swallows another giggle. “Get with it darling— he’s almost here.”

She nods, splaying her limbs out in a way she imagines a dead— or almost dead— body would look. She doesn’t have to imagine too hard.

“Good job,” Kol whispers. “Billy Loomis would be proud.”

She smiles quickly at the reference— part of her plan was making him watch Scream with her.

“He’s here— let’s do this—“

The end of his sentence is cut off by a yell— his yell. They have to cover the sound of her heartbeat somehow. She can only keep her heart so steady and she’s not trying to give herself away before the fun has really begun. Thank heaven Kol has a good pair of lungs— and that he doesn’t need to breathe.

“Yeah I just go ba— Kol?” Like with Kol, she can’t see Klaus but she can hear him and the way his voice falters in confusion.

“Brother—” the way Kol’s voice hitches at the end of the word makes her almost break character. Someone sign this man up for an Oscar immediately— “I don’t know what happened. I left to get some of that ice cream she’s always talking about and— and—”

Klaus doesn’t speak but over Kol’s scarily astute acting she can hear commotion on the other end of his cellphone. Elijah— jackpot.

A double prank.

“Elijah give me a minute— Kol, what happened?”

Klaus’ heavy boots thunk against the concrete, the vibrations radiating through her cheek where it presses against the ground. His steps are almost as thundering as his voice, both echoing through the open space.

Kol plays along with his brother’s anger, matching it with his own. “I just said I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know! Look at her and tell me what you see—” his words stop, the air punctuated by a loud crack, no doubt the sound of his Iphone shattering into a hundred pieces.

Oops.

Suddenly there are hands on her back, nudging her softly, pulling at the sticky fabric of her t-shirt. You’re going to have to do better than that to wake the dead, babe. His hands get steadily more frantic— and more slimy— dragging the blood concoction into her hair as he checks her scalp and neck for injury. She holds her breath as his hand wraps around her jaw, lifting her face gently.

“Fuck, Kol, why is she bleeding so much?”

Kol only screeches in answer— again, she almost loses it. Klaus must not like that answer very much because he curses under his breath. Well, under his breath is a relative term. She is sure the entirety of Bourbon street hears the F-bomb he drops. The word is accompanied by the sound of her shirt being ripped in two. Here we go.

She feels a whoosh of air against her now revealed skin, steeling against the shiver that creeps up her spine at the cold air. Soon there is another pair of hands on her, sliding down her slick arms. She can picture the dyed corn syrup staining Elijah's dress shirt and the glare in his dark eyes when he realizes she has teamed up with his brother to wreak mayhem.

“What’s going on? What happened?” His sultry voice is worse than the cold air— and much harder to stave off.

“I don’t know—” both Klaus and Kol speak in unison, Klaus taking over for the both of them— “but there isn’t time to find out right now.”

Before she has time to process his words her body is being flipped over, her back pressing into the icy, sticky concrete. It takes all of her strength not to squeal at the contact. She hears a noise much too juicy for her liking before a warm artery is pressed against the seam of her lips. Perfect!

“C’mon love, please—”

When her mouth fills with a thick, metallic substance she breaks, springing forward and coughing wildly, making sure to swallow a good amount before hacking the rest up. She runs an arm across her eyelids, trying to unstick them but only managing to coat her eyelashes even more.

When she finally manages to peel her eyes open, spitting the last of Klaus’ blood out of her mouth, she is met with the faces of two shocked vampires and one vampire who is laughing his ass off. Kol’s laughter is infectious— especially because she’s been holding back giggles since the start of their ruse— and soon she is joining him, laughing so hard she falls backwards again into the goo.

For a moment there is silence— only the sound of her and Kol’s laughter— before it gives way to Klaus’ deathly calm voice. “What the hell is going on here?”

She pushes herself up on an elbow, flashing him a scarlet drenched smile— she would give anything to see her crimson teeth right now. She runs her tongue over them to enhance the point.

“Did I scare you?”

His eyes flash with black. “Did you scare me—”

“Yes, you scared us!” Elijah’s red hands wrap around her forearms, hauling her into his chest without a care for his white shirt. “May I ask why?”

Elijah’s chest shudders, his arms curling around her waist. He wasn’t lying— he’s terrified. He smells like cooking oil and metal but she doesn’t care— he’s too warm for her to mind. His lips press against her forehead and she almost feels bad.

Almost.

A hand wraps around her hair from behind, yanking her back from his brother’s chest. “What Elijah means to say is can we demand why? Why you would try something like that?”

She dips her head further back, squinting up at the furious blonde. “Oh you already know why, love.”

He rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched but leaning down to brush his cheek against hers regardless. “Indulge me anyway.”

She tilts her head, skimming her tacky lips against his stubble. “To make a point.”

“Oh yeah? And what point might that be?”

“That I am fragile—” she pulls upright, turning in Elijah’s arms and dropping the cheshire grin— “that you can’t protect me all the time—” she pushes forward, crawling onto Klaus’ drenched lap— “that I need to be like you.”

He sighs, his forehead dropping against hers, his hands curling around her jaw. “This again?”

Her arms hook around his neck, fingers tangling in his blonde hair. “You know I’m right.”

Klaus’ shoulders slump, his golden eyebrows knitting together. “Does it have to be right now?”

“Your blood is already in my system.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

She smiles back at him, leaning in for what she hopes is one last human kiss. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

He only sighs, shaking his head as Kol laces his fingers with hers. She turns to the brown eyed vamp just in time to see him pass her a mischievous wink.

It is the last thing she sees before the world around her goes dark.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

She wakes feeling significantly less sticky than she had when she blacked out— and significantly more hungry. She can’t remember the last time her throat was dry like this. Is she catching a cold? She shifts slightly, her elbow piling into a pillow underneath her. The pillow grunts.

Not a pillow.

Kol rises beside her, pressing a hand to her chest until she falls back against the mattress and then rolling on top of her, sinking his face against her neck. The words he mumbles into her skin make her dead heart stop in the best way.

“I told you that plan would get you killed.”

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capt-spooki3 · 3 years

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Hey hi hello, how are you doing, i miss you and am .5 seconds away from spamming all your work with likes and reblogs 💕☺️

So I've been thinking (uh oh).... Being close with Tommy and tubbo and telling them ur terrified to meet techno cause mans is so scary to you, and they tell him you're scared cause they're little shits. A d cut to like a few days later where you have to talk to him for smthn and he's making fun of youand teasing you relentlessly cause he knows you were visibly nervous to meet him, but he's being really nice besides the teasing. Thoughts? Interpretations?

You don't even have to respond, just know that I love you and your stuff and hope you have the best day because you deserve nothing less◖⚆ᴥ⚆◗

( ˘ ³˘)♥

am i positive if you're asking me for a fic? No, not entirely.

Am i going to write you one anyway because you're so sweet? Yes absolutely and now presenting:

My Unexpected Tutor

Platonic college au!Technoblade and Y/n

(plus besties with the rest of the sbi ofc 😌)

(Hope this is okay, i just took my own interpretation of it and changed it just a little👌)

Warnings: cursing, teasing, nervousness(idk)

3.3k works

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With the final bell ringing and college classes ending for the day, you snatched up your bag and book you’ve read off and on that week before heading over to the courtyard that was near the on-campus dorms. Stopping by a vending machine first to grab a drink then seating yourself on a bench and getting comfortable while you wait for your company to arrive.

“Yeah! And that’s- HA! That’s when Wilbur just… oh!-” The nearing sound of Tommy’s voice cut off along with the softer laughing from Tubbo. You were very obviously engrossed in your book, but now you just feigned reading as you listen closely to the sound of slow footsteps nearing behind your bench. The two of them were horrible about being sneaky since you could easily hear hushed laughs as they desperately tried keeping each other quiet.

Right as you heard them stop moving, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself before turning around suddenly and lunging at them over the back of the bench with a half effort grab at Tommy’s extended hand, and yelling. Tommy screamed back, stumbling back a few paces and Tubbo just stumbled before backing up to the bench and busted out laughing.

“Ey what the hell!” He scoffed despite not being able to hold back his growing smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll remember that bitch, I’m gonna get you back.” he walked over to you and sat on the other side of the bench, giving you a hard glare when you laughed a little bit though it was mostly from Tubbo’s hysterical laughter. He took a deep breath and calmed himself so he could jump over the back of the bench and sit between you and Tommy.

The two boys were your underclassmen, being freshmen while you were a sophomore. The three of you met in your coding class. You were there mostly to get your English degree and major in said area, but you figured while you had the opportunity you would take classes on things you didn’t know much about. There, you met Wilbur, a senior and Tommy’s oldest brother, and he helped you quite a bit with understanding bits of coding that were a bit too confusing for you at first and were quickly becoming friends with him. That was until Tommy entered the picture. First, you just saw him as Wilbur’s chaotic younger brother who just happened to be in the coding class as well but after some insisting that you get to know him from Wilbur, you hung out one weekend in the library. One weekend turned to two then almost every weekend once he introduced you to Tubbo as well and you all had become a true trio.

You got to know Tommy’s family pretty well. His single father, Phil, who was just like a second parent to you now, and Wilbur who acted just like the older brother you never had. You knew them well despite having known them all for less than a year. The only hang-up is when it came to Tommy’s other brother. You knew he had an actual name, but only knew him by his nickname since that’s what everyone referred to him by. That would be Technoblade. The two of you had a couple of literature classes together and the fact that he was only one grade above you, you’d figure that you could befriend him with ease. Now, it’s not like he was big and scary, he was more tall and lanky but he was smart and he had some vibe around him that just petrified you. You couldn’t ever build up the courage to be around him which made it quite an issue since you were best friends with his brother, though this wasn’t an issue you had ever brought up to any of them.

“So how did classes go for you guys today?” You asked as you pulled one of your legs up onto the bench and closed your book which you held close to your chest.

“Fucking shitty! I got a fuck ton of extra work, like I know it’s college and the weekend but let me live.”

“We got one essay to write, it’s two pages long.” Tubbo reiterated with a smile while Tommy grumbled and leaned his head back so he was looking up at the sky. “What about you Y/n?”

“It wasn’t bad, I don’t have any extra work other than a bit of coding to do. Oh speaking of, Tommy?” You reached your foot over and kicked his leg to get his attention, only continuing when he was looking at you. “Is Will gonna be free at all? ‘Cause I need some help with this stuff.”

Tommy perked up a bit, sitting up to get his phone out. “Oh you're right, I actually need help with it too.” He mumbled while texting and staring at the screen as he waited for a reply. “Uhh okay so he says… I’m visiting some friends so I won’t have time… blah blah uh but ask Techno, I heard he’s pretty good at coding. Nice! That’s perfect, you can just come over to my house and-”

“Ah, you know what- I actually think I’m okay.” You quickly interrupted him, pulling your laptop out of your bag to aimlessly scroll through the assignment you were given. “It can’t even be that hard I’m sure… I can figure it out.” You said with as much confidence as you could muster despite knowing full well you’ll be completely lost as soon as you try to start on the work.

“Come on, we both know that’s a lie, you're so shit at this stuff.” He said light-heartedly and watched you ‘work’. “Seriously, just come over. I’m sure Techno is good at this stuff, if anything we can pay him to do the work.”

“It’s fine- really. I think I’ll just wait for Monday, I can ask Wilbur for help then.” You closed your laptop, keeping your gaze on it for a moment before looking over at Tubbo and Tommy who were giving you both a puzzled look. “What?”

“You don’t…” Tubbo started to speak but Tommy pushed him back with an arm on the chest so he could lean over to look at you closer.

“You don’t have a crush on Techno, do you?” He said and squinted at them as if disgusted by the thought.

“What!? No!” You sat up taller and looked at him, baffled that he resorted to that.

“Well, then what the hell is the problem! Just come over and he can teach us!”

“I just… he’s kinda…” You grew flustered and found a loss for good words as you realized you were going to admit this. “He’s scary.”

Tommy busted out laughing and wheezed hard, doubling over as he coughed and laughed some more, stumbling over words as he tried to talk but was laughing too hard. Even tubbo who was trying to hold back, joined Tommy which only made them bounce off each other in their hysterics.

“Wha- I’m serious! Do you two not think he’s intimidating!?” You looked at both of them desperately as you could feel the heat that had risen to your cheeks.

“He’s literally-” Tubbo’s laughter interrupted him. “He’s a nerd! How the hell is he scary?” He settled down a bit and nudged Tommy to get him to calm down too, luckily he got his fit of laughter out.

“Oh my god, no I’ve got to go home now.” He grabbed his backpack that had been discarded behind the bench and looked at you once more before laughing more. “Scared of Techno- oh my god. That's good, that’s a good one. Bye bitches!” He saluted both of you before running off.

“Tommy I swear to god if you tell anyone I will deck your shit!!” You stood up, holding your laptop in hand, to yell at him but just stood there defeated once he turned a corner around a building. Tubbo got up beside you, laughing as he put his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“I wish I could give him the benefit of the doubt… but he’s gonna tell Techno. And Wilbur. And Phil for sure.”

“Yeah... I’m sure he will. I’m going to my dorm, I’ve got to call my mom.”

“Aww-” You put your hand over his mouth, but took it away as soon as he shut up so he wouldn’t lick your palm.

“Shut- I don’t wanna hear shit from you too. Anyway, get home soon and don’t get kidnapped.” You turned away to put your laptop and book into your backpack and zipped it up before pulling it over one shoulder. You looked back at Tubbo and put your fist up to him.

“I’ll kick them in the balls, don’t worry.” He laughed a little and bumped his fist to yours and walked backward a few paces, waving at you. “Tell your mom I said hi!”

You waved back at him and stood to wait and watch him walk off along the stone path until he was fully out of sight to make your way to your dorm, which was right in the courtyard area.

Monday came around and with the school day partially over, you made your way to your coding class. You of course didn't end up doing the assigned homework even though you gave it a good try and just decided to rely on Wilbur's help.

You walked into class and took in a deep breath, it was always cool and smelt of coffee since the teacher brewed a cup before your class every day. Making your way over to your usual computer you looked over to see Tommy sitting in your spot beside Wilbur and chatting to him. You guessed he heard you coming or saw Wilbur look your way because he looked back and grinned wide which never meant good.

"Ey look at who it is! Wonderful seeing you again, how was your weekend?"

"Fine." You said, looking down at him and kicking his foot. "I don't like how you're acting, what the hell did you do?"

He just feigned innocence and looked offended that you could assume such a thing. "Me? Me!?" He leaned forward, hand gracefully on his chest. "I cannot believe you right now, I'm hurt Y/n! Truly hurt."

You scoffed with an eye roll and sat on the other side of Wilbur since the seat was free. As soon as you set your bag down and went to turn toward the two, Wilbur was already facing you and leaning on the desk area for the keyboard in a way that looked like he needed to say something in secret.

"You good?"

He just waved you down and you leaned forward to listen. "You're not… actually afraid of Technoblade are you?"

"Tommy you little shit!" You jumped up, nearly hitting Wilbur but he moved back in time. Tommy laughed and fled to the other side of the room where he normally sat so you just grumbled and took your seat.

"Well?"

"Is no one else? He's intimidating, I feel like he'd call me out on all my insecurities if I inconvenienced him. And THEN he would hold me at knifepoint till I left him alone."

Wilbur snorted and hung his head as he softly laughed, you reached over and hit his arm before leaning closer to whisper. “I’m serious Wilbur! He scares me!”

He looked back up at you with the most amused look. “Come on, you can’t be friends with this family without knowing techno. Honestly. Talk to him today. You two have the same literature class at the end of the day right?” He asked as he sat up and leaned back into his chair to turn his computer on and log into the coding website.

“I mean yeah but- what does that have to do with anything.” You asked, but Wilbur didn’t reply as he just stared at his screen so you leaned forward to get into his peripheral vision. “Will, what does that have to do with anything? I’m not talking to him, I hope you know that.”

You were wrong. Nearing the end of your literature class, you sat there listening to the teacher while completely lost on the assignment. Usually, it wouldn’t be too much of an issue because you would just give it the best attempt you could and see where you messed up at the end to better understand the work. It wasn’t the best tactic but you liked it better than having to ask for help. But now, this was a big and grade-determining assignment, not one you could afford to flunk.

The class was given five minutes to start on or look over the work at the end of the class. You leaned back in your chair, staring at your paper at a loss, and listened to the sound of people moving around the class near you. You didn’t try to look up since you assumed it was friends going to sit together and gossip. That was until you noticed someone took the seat beside you and shuffled a bit closer. Pulling the paper away from your face to look, you froze instantly upon locking eyes with Technoblade who was smiling lightly. You had never seen him this close, the most notable thing was his dyed light pink hair that had grown out brown roots and you could even see in his smile how his top and bottom canine teeth were a bit longer than normal and looked like he had small fangs and tusks.

He pushed his glasses up before crossing his arms and leaning forward on his desk. “Hey so I know you’re terrified of me, but it looks like you’re having a bit of an issue.” You opened your mouth to speak but were just met with a loss for words and just averted your eyes, continually glancing back at him for a moment as you were unsure what to do. He snorted lightly, bringing his hand up to stifle his laugh, and cleared his throat. “Yeah sorry for bein’ so big and scary but I can help ya. Come one, show me what you are confused with Y/n.”

“You- you know my name?” You looked right at him finally to which he raised an eyebrow at you quizzically.

“Well yeah. Did you really expect me not to? You’re besties with both of my brothers and my dad loves having you over. I was just waiting for you to say hi to me.” He leaned back, fidgeting with a ring with his hands. “Didn’t think you’d actually be scared of me, thank Tommy for snitching. He talked about it all weekend.”

You groaned, leaning forward to run your hands over your face and sigh, swearing that you’d smack him once school was out.

“Oh shi-” You looked at Techno and he was checking the time on his phone. “Hey, class is about to end. You’re not gonna be busy are you?”

“Uh… not, no I’m not.”

“Great.” He got up, moving the desk back to its original place and trotting over to grab his bag, and looking back to you. “Get your stuff and meet me at the south entrance, we can work on it back at my house.” And without giving you a chance to try to object, he called to the teacher saying that he was going to leave a minute early to get his stuff together since he rented a locker a bit away from the classroom and the teacher waved him off.

Reluctantly, you went back to your dorm which was close to where you had class. You dropped off unneeded books and grabbed a granola bar from a box you kept in your room then headed toward the entrance Techno told you to meet him at. And of course, walking up the sidewalk to the doors you saw him there sitting on a bench with his bag beside him. He saw you and jumped up, waving you over to him as he started walking immediately. While you were still behind him, you sent a picture to Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur of him walking in front of you and adding the caption ‘i did it :P’.

The two of you chatted while you walked through the neighborhood and despite light teasing on how scary he was, he was easy to talk to and you had a lot in common with him. It was a shame you hadn’t taken the initiative to talk to him before. In no time, you were walking through the door after him into the familiar home where Phil greeted you with a surprised but happy look and offered snacks which Techno graciously took before heading to his room.

To your surprise, Technoblade is the best tutor you have ever had. He is attentive and incredibly patient when trying to figure out where you are having struggles and he’s smart. Like he knows every single bit of what is supposed to be brand new information from the class. Not even two hours into him helping you, you understood the assignment completely and you both spent the next three hours sitting on his bed and working together. You joked with him and he held the same energy while keeping the focus on working and even swapped laptops with him to check it over for each other.

You broke your gaze from the endless lines of text on your laptop screen to look at the window and seeing the orange sky around trees and over top of houses that indicated the setting sun. “Oh my gosh!” You scrambled off the bed, carefully stuffing papers back into your bag. “I didn’t even realize what time it was- Technoblade thank you a million for helping me. I appreciate it so much, but I need to get back to my dorm! I promised my roommate I’d help her cook dinner tonight.” You grabbed your laptop off of the bed and put it into your bag, closing it all up quickly.

Slinging it over your shoulder and adjusting it, you turned to make your way out of the room but you were stopped by a tug and looked back to see Techno holding onto your bag and looking displeased. “Not yet.”

“Wha- I need to go though-”

“It’s a tradition in this house to hug anyone before they leave, you should know that from my dad.” He let go and opened his arms up to you.

You turned to him and tilted your head a little. “You’re joking…”

He just smiled smugly and waited. You glanced at the doorway but gave in and closed the bit of distance, hugging him to which he returned snugly and spoke softly to you. “You’re a good person. I’m glad to have gotten to know you and I hope you’ll come back. I promise I’m not all that bad.” With that, he slowly let go and patted your arm before gently shoving you toward the doorway and plopping down on his bed. “Have a good night!”

“Uh.. yeah, you too!” You said back, still surprised by the exchange. His words swam through your mind as you went to leave the house, hugging Phil on your way out and wishing him a good night as well. Finally checking your phone on the walk home, you found a supportive and proud text from Wilbur, a dirty joke from Tommy, and something in between from Tubbo.

You laughed to yourself, amused by the differences in the messages. It was times like these that you most found appreciation for the three. Mentally you had to correct yourself though. The whole family was good. This you can say for sure now.

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

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Are you into my hero academia? What about an AU or crossover with tua?

UHHHH I am technically, like, peripherally? I watched some seasons of the show like two or three years ago and since then have simply absorbed all content through osmosis, reading fanfiction that has canon events, and my sister telling me about the arcs of her fav characters lmao

so a crossover hmmm

First of all you'd have to like, establish whether bnha is an alternate universe or just The Future If No Apocalypse with quirks being traced back to the descendants of the kids born without mothers

So let's say it's that - the glowing baby was the "first quirk" but the truth is people had powers before that. But - well, the Umbrella Academy was obviously a marketing gimmick to those in the future! There were even comics based on them

In the future, you might find some of those comics in museum exhibits dedicated to depictions of powers in the pre-quirk era, but they're just fun depictions and much less popular than, oh, DC or MCU comics which are also in the exhibits!

End of s2 doesn't happen I guess in this au?? No sparrow academy at least lmao. So, the Umbrella Academy stop the apocalypse (again) and the Commission threat is? Neutralized? Whatever. They decide to jump back to the future

Five warns them that time travel is a crapshoot, that he has no fucking idea when they'll land beyond some nebulous "future" because Five can at least control the direction if not exactly how long

Also, Five is like. Super tired. Incredibly tired. Homeboy still has a healing gut wound, time traveled twice, has been jumping all over the place, gotten even more injured, experienced paradox psychosis, and managed to undo time all in the space of like, two weeks. There actually more than that but we don't have time to get into how fucking tired Five is from his ~Month of Hell

Like genuinely this is like putting someone almost delirious from lack of sleep in the driver's seat of a car and expecting to get to your destination in one piece

But hey, the siblings are like "do it uwu" and Five has sacrificed everything for them already so why not get behind the wheel again

So Five jumps them, and of course something goes wrong because Five has pushed his powers like a great big rubber band and honestly it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip and it snapped back to hit him

So here be the umbrella academy: spilled out into the future like a cup of bad coffee.

Five probably isn't in too good of shape tbh, like they're hundreds of years in the future (but hey at least confirmation of no apocalypse am I right) in a world full of superpowers and Five is like. bleeding from his ears and nose probably idk

Let's handwave a little bit - Reginald made them all polyglots so the squad all speak varying levels of Japanese. Allison is the best at it, Five is second best but tends to use more archaic words bc he had missions in Japan back when he was with the commission, and Klaus is third best.

(Ben is the worst bc he decided when he was 16-and-dead that he didn't have to do anything regarding lessons and maintenance and hasn't given a shit since - but also he's dead so)

So you have a bunch of weird adults with a bleeding child in like, an alley who have appeared from nowhere

so of course heroes get involved

Anyway, the squad get taken in and Five is conscious but like, barely? And he's not going to let himself get separated from his siblings again fuck-you-officer and there is a lot of confusion

anyway detective tsukauchi ends up getting involved and ends up having to hear this batshit story and be like "...truth." which sends all kinds of people scrambling because fucking time travel? Like yeah, it's been theorized to be a possible quirk but there's no recorded cases of any sort of time travel that is for more than 24 hours let alone hundreds of years

"I'm an adult." Five says sourly, "I just happened to be returned to my 13 year old body when I time traveled one time."

"True." Tsukauchi says, feeling his soul leave his body, but like. absently. the way he does when he's called in at 2am after getting off of work at midnight.

"I'm 58." Five says.

"Lie." Tsukauchi says, because this is a headcanon hill I will die on.

"I'm probably 58, but it was hard to keep track. I'm at least 50." Five corrects.

"True." Tsukauchi sighs like these six (seven? they keep referring to another sibling and Klaus said 'ghost' like that was fine and it registered as true and Tsukauchi is not nearly paid enough for this) are not giving him a migraine by just existing

on the bright side there's like, probably protocols in place for individuals who are Legally Chronologically Adults but thanks to quirks are Not Physically Or Not Mentally Adults with tests to determine if the individual needs a guardian or not

though i'm gonna be honest idk if Five would pass the test bc he literally cannot take care of himself at all, has never paid taxes or understands how to exist legally, and also his emotional maturity is stunted as all hell. also like. we don't actually know how much being in his thirteen-year-old body affects his mental state but yeAH Five is vibing

anyway Tsukauchi probably phones a friend on this bullshit because Time Travel Child alone is probably enough for the Hero Commission to be like "find a way to control and use it or nuke it from orbit" and that's not even touching whatever the fuck Klaus is doing (shit gets real once 'dead men tell no tales' stops being true) let ALONE Allison's whole deal

on the bright side like, at least Vanya isn't getting side-eyed that much bc Big Destructive Quirks aren't exactly unknown? if vanya wanted to i guess quirk suppressors exist for that until extensive training on how to control a super powerful quirk happens

Tsukauchi in the group chat: Aizawa please I am literally begging you to take this bullshit on

Aizawa: in this economy? with my class?

RatGod: lol we'll take them ;3c

Aizawa: no

Anyway they probably end up having to live at UA while Five insists on trying to get them home still and everyone else is like "oh hey we used to be child soldiers as well! (:" and Aizawa is like "i hate everything about this and everything about all of you but also like nedzu is making me interact with you so :/"

nedzu is out here vibing like "lol i just don't want the hero commission to get their little paws on these time traveling fuckers, i think you should make then teaching assistants or something"

honestly the siblings are probably like. figuring out how to function in the bnha universe and getting like, legally registered and stuff while Five ferally refuses bc that's like saying he's giving up on getting them home and he can do this

Recovery girl tries to heal him a little when he arrives and he passes out for two weeks like, immediately bc homeboy is running on fumes and spite at this point

also i think on principle it would be REALLY FUNNY if the squad got to tag along with the class bc like. Five is thirteen and the class are all 15. this does not sound like a large age gap. anyone who has interacted with teenagers know that the class would squint at Five and be like "who is this sassy lost middle schooler."

I feel like when I was a sophomore we were still like "freshman... babie" even though we were literally only one year older.

i think the difference between the umbrella academy and school kids would be pretty funny like. objectively the bnha kids are lowkey child soldiers?? like they're 15 and fighting villains but like, there's all this red tape and laws and stuff but,,, deku still be breaking his limbs in a child fighting ring against equally superpowered children for like. entertainment and sponsorships sooo

but also like Five would be like "oh cool when is the experimentation class"

"the what"

"you know, when your powers are pushed real hard by putting you in different terrible situations while your dad and sibling stand by with clipboards writing down the exact voltage it takes before you can't use your powers anymore when being electrocuted"

"hound dog's office is right there. therapy is available to you at any time. i need you to know this."

all might calls Luther "my boy" like one (1) time and Luther just breaks down crying probably because he is starved for positive attention

klaus and midnight get along like a literal house on fire, aizawa tried his best to keep them apart for as long as possible but god damn

(klaus: your name is shimura nana??

all might: immediately dies choking on blood)

i feel it absolutely necessary to point out that aizawa, present mic, and midnight are all like, 30? and the umbrella academy are all between 29-early 30s? they are PEERS but like. the umbrella academy are more chaotic due to childhood trauma

the umbrella academy probably get offered to like. also train to be heroes. i mean,, there HAS to be some sort of track for people who change careers right?? you don't have to cement your future as a hero when you're 15 i'm sure there must be something and the squad already have experience if they want to go be legal heroes

diego probably does at least?? diego just vibes honestly. diego gets momo to make knives during a team exercise and they just go feral on everyone else and it ends with diego highfiving momo and someone getting way to close to being stabbed for comfort

Five might just be. legally enrolled as an Actual Student? But also i think it's funny to picture the entire squad just. all in the back of the classroom with luther trying to fit into a high school desk as they take notes on the laws of The Future surrounding heroics

every word out of the umbrella academy's mouths just make everyone more concerned on principal but like, five and klaus are probably the worst offenders. Klaus just says whatever comes to mind with no filter and Five doesn't get what people would consider to be abnormal anymore like

Five: yeah our dad bought us when we were babies and experimented on us throughout our childhood in order to make an elite team of child soldiers superheroes, it happens

Todoroki: ...have you heard of quirk marriages?

izuku probably has an aneurism bc he's is the only person who might recognize them from the comics because you know ya boy extensively researched the idea of heroics in pre-quirk eras (batman was an inspiration alright???) and might dredge up a memory of a less popular comic series

Five: I can time travel but it is very hard, which is why we are hundreds of years in the future. And why I look like a child.

Kaminari: so are you a kid or not?

Five, serenely: whatever is most convenient for me at any given moment

Mina: hell yeah game the system

they have a brief lesson on astronomy and Luther raises his hand like "ooh! i was isolated on the moon for four years and did SO MUCH research" and then just gets up and starts infodumping like way too much information on the moon

Izuku sitting there like "damn if quirks hadn't popped up we could have achieved so much in terms of space travel. please tell me more giant man who lived in pre-quirk era."

Vanya finds out about the quirkless and is like "oh mood that genuinely sounds like my childhood, being ordinary in a house full of extraordinary people, and then i found out that i did have powers but only much later in life after i had already been emotionally scarred by the experience"

deku: vanya we have so much in common

iida and uraraka: concerned noises

aizawa: hound dog. therapy with hound dog for all of you.

there's probably some conflict with like, the hero commission wanting to get their hands on the time travelers?? but probably especially five and klaus as a) time travel and b) ghosts (the hc def has bodies they would like to stay buried)

five has a pavlovian reaction to anything with 'commission' in the name and hates them on site, probably plays into his age in order to become a ward of UA or something to protect him from the commission a little bit.

(this makes nedzu Five's legal guardian. aizawa has his resignation papers all prepped in a drawer marked 'in case of emergency' but let's be real, if nedzu wants to take over the world aizawa should probably be on the rat-bear's side of things :/)

five: ah, i do recall the inhumane experimentation that we were subjected to

nedzu, who was experimented on: haha same hat! want me to dig up the location of reginald hargreeves's remains so you can spit on them?

klaus: nah no worries we dumped them out in the courtyard unceremoniously like, a while back. how long ago varies for each of us because of time travel!

luther: you said hound dog's office was down the hall and to the right?

on the bright side, Luther probably feels like. way less self conscious about his body, partially bc of his fighting and all that in the 60s but also bc !! now he genuinely doesn't feel like a freak. no one even gives him a second glance. one of the teachers looks like a slab of cement with a face. gang orca looks Like That. there is literally a student with an entire bird head and goth aesthetic. Luther does not stick out at all

allison and shinso bond over having "villainous" voice-based quirks

allison and shinso having worn muzzles at some point in their youth as punishment 🤝

aizawa probably helps train vanya as well with the whole, being able to erase a world ending quirk safely thing he's got going on which makes for a very nice safety net

i don't think vanya would want to be a hero at the end of things though. maybe the assistant teacher in the music class or something?? all vanya wants is to be able to not end the world

i feel like as time goes by, five brings up trying to get home less and less. part of that is because like,,, genuinely what do they have to go back to?? Allison has Claire, but like. I'm 100% sure the first thing she did in the future was try track down Claire's records and found out Claire was like. fine. became an adult, had a family, probably became the ancestor of the first "quirked" kids who officially popped up after light baby. had a good life, died at an old age etc. etc.

they start settling into the bnha world with like, "we can always hop aboard the five express into where the fuck ever" as a plan Z if things go completely pear shaped (again)

i'mma be real, five himself doesn't give a fuck as long as there is a) no apocalypse and b) his family is alive. Like that's it. His bar is so incredibly low and yet his life keeps fucking trying to limbo under it

i just think it would be funny to have like, Five trying to get along with his "peers" and make friends while the siblings do the same but like, in the staff room

also think it would be funny for five to just walk into the staff room and get coffee occasionally.

a teacher: why is a student in here -

Five, sipping coffee: i'm an adult

nedzu like "what kind of guardian would i be if i didn't teach my new son all the tunnels around ua so he can pop out wherever"

five like "hey new dad can i put stashes of supplies all around ua of weapons, money, food, and other assorted things that might be useful if one needed to fight or make a run for it" and nedzu is like "haha just put your list of what supplies you want in your go bags on my desk and i'll critique it later!"

anyway a bnha/tua crossover would be incredibly chaotic but probably very funny

#long post #far tua long #tua bnha crossover #what kind of disaster is this #there are so many characters in bnha to even consider #there is no more apocalypse so five either chills the fuck out or his paranoia ramps up to an eleven #or both!#five teleporting into nedzu's office like: hey i wrote a 52 page potential contingency plan for if x happens #and nedzu is like 'wonderful!' and gives it back to five the next day with corrections and critiques in red ink #klaus ben and ghost!nana get along like a house on fire even if she keeps telling klaus that he's too skinny #ben: klaus is an absolute fucking idiot with zero braincells #nana nodding sagely while looking at all might: ah yes i know the exact type #diego and snipe become absolute bros like ride or die because why not #luther gets positive reinforcement and goes to therapy #also thirteen listens patiently to luther infodumping about space because i think that would be nice #five is either like 'i'm only thirteen uwu' or 'i'm fifty eight' and there is nothing in between - only what is most convenient #i feel like kaminari and mina vibe with five's brand of chaos #iida doesn't know whether to murder five for being a gremlin and disobeying so many rules or to be respectful bc five is technically old #aizawa is SO TIRED y'all #aizawa thinks vanya is going to be the good hargreeves but PSYCHE all the hargreeves are equally chaotic in different ways #five calls nedzu 'dad' for the sole reason that it makes every teacher and/or hero in earshot cringe in automatic fear #klaus also calls nedzu dad because he just thinks it's funny #five and nedzu have similar coping mechanisms so they vibe but nedzu also vibes with klaus's sense of chaotic humor #five gets talked into healthier coping mechanisms by way of 'keeping his cover' or 'preventing the hc from getting their hands on you'#aka five is not allowed to drink alcohol #five HAS gone to midnight and been like 'hey teach knock me the fuck out my brain is working overdrive and i need to not be awake anymore'

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beyscape · 4 years

Text

Secrets

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: “Ransom Drysdale is the father of a child but he doesn’t know it” requested by @evansrogersmarvelcomic

Word Count: 2010

Warnings: a swear word or two

A/N: No spoilers from the movie! The daughter’s name is Mary, just a lil’ reference to Gifted :’) Also, this has been one of my favourite prompts for a veeery long time, so thanks a lot for the request!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Ransom Drysdale was a selfish asshole. Everyone who had spent as little as five minutes around him could easily see this. His history with women, the way he felt a trail made of broken hearts and tears wherever he passed through and how he only cared about his own interests were all facts well known to you. Yet still, he wasn’t all bad, you had told your friends when they tried to stop you from a mistake. A mistake, they had called it, going out with Ransom never ended well. You assured them you would be fine, just having some fun with a hot, charismatic guy.

It was strange, how the conversation with your friends when you told them you were dating Ransom kept playing in your head as you sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. The handle of the cabinet dug into your back uncomfortably, but you barely noticed the pain.

Deep down, you had always known that it wouldn’t last. So, the year and a half you spent with Ransom was a surprise to you, as well as those around you. It was an endless repeat of a cycle, dating Ransom. It would start exhilarating, from the breathtaking dates and the way he made you feel, like the only woman on earth. Next phase would be you inevitably being mad him, the fights were passionate and tiring. He was unable to admit that he was wrong, that he was being a complete jerk and paired with your stubborn nature it would take days to end the screaming match. Then would come the angry make up sex, whatever you were fighting about melting away. This cycle repeated for a little less than a year and a half, until you couldn’t take it anymore and broke things up for good.

That was a month ago.

Even though it was your decision to end things and knew that it was the best thing to do for the long run, you couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken over the whole thing. Yes, you had known who Ransom was, but that didn’t change the fact that you still secretly hoped things would work out. That he would change. Just as a month passed and you started to feel better, to see clearly why you had to make that decision, it all came crashing down.

Positive.

You stared at the small stick between your shaking, cold hands. It was only supposed to soothe your worries as there was no way you were pregnant, just being paranoid, you had comforted yourself at the pharmacy. You were, however, very wrong, you realized with a startling halt as you turned over the three other sticks. All showed the result you dreaded.

Positive.

You dropped the stick next to the other ones on the floor, pulling your knees up to rest your head on them. You weren’t ready for this, a child was a huge responsibility, and the father wasn’t even in the picture- you cursed. Not only were you pregnant, you were pregnant with the baby of the one person who was absolutely not supposed to be more than some causal fun. After some hours of sitting in the same position, thinking through every possible outcome, you rose on your feet with determination.

Many seasons passed since then, and in a blur you were the proud mother of a baby girl who now sat in front of you, playing with blocks of Lego. You watched as the five-year-old grabbed piece after piece to build a rocket, her mop of blonde hair too familiar. One last cruel joke from the man you tried so hard to forget, his daughter looked like a carbon copy of his, so you had to see the little face every day that reminded you of him. Never allowing you to completely forget the time you had spent together all those years ago now.

You had moved out of the small apartment to a slightly bigger one, needing more space for all the things a baby brings into one’s life. You were still in the same area though, and a part of you was surprised at how well you kept your little secret. Some of your friends expressed their worries about your location, but after some thought you decided it would be too expensive to move over states. And after all, best hiding spots were always in plain sight anyways.

Those close to you knew who your daughter’s father was, but all of them made sure to never utter a word about it. Ransom Drysdale wasn’t really cut out for being a dad, it was just a simple fact. You knew too, and that was exactly why you had decided to keep him in the dark. Nonetheless, there was a part of you who wished one day, long into the future, he would get to meet his daughter.

You didn’t know how soon your wish would come true.

It was a warm Sunday morning when you noticed you were out of milk and a trip to the grocery store was much needed. Your daughter, Mary, was thrilled at the idea and spent extra time making sure her dress had just the right amount of sparkles on it.

Maybe you had gotten too comfortable over the years, but you no longer felt the fear of running into Ransom every single time you left your house. But, you didn’t exactly hang out in the same circles even before you started dating him and become a mom. And there was also the fact that he most likely would be too busy to visit your local grocery store, instead he would be sleeping in after a night of drinking and maybe even bringing someone back to the whatever hotel he favoured at the moment. You pressed your lips together at that last thought. You had heard of him dating casually, seen pictures of him with different girls at different clubs, it was hard not to hear of Ransom Drysdale even when you did your best to avoid him. You shushed the part of you that was bothered with how fast he had gotten over you.

“Don’t wander off.” You warned your excited daughter as you rolled the cart around. She gave you a smile, not straying from your side, watching you make progress with the list in your hands. As expected from a five-year-old though, she soon got bored.

“Mommy,” Mary whined, tugging your hand, “Can I go and get cookies?” you noted the empty isle and the general quietness of the store before giving her a nod. You watched for another second as your daughter moved to the aisle across from you, skipping with the thought of cookies. You returned back to the long list.

–

Ransom Drysdale took off his sunglasses as he entered the small store, wanting to grab something to snack on before he continued the drive for his grandfather’s house. He grimaced, not looking forward to seeing his family of hot messes, the hangover headache he was nursing not helping the matter at all. He sighed softly, making his way to find some cookies or something, to give him the energy he would need very much so in the coming hours.

There he noticed a small blonde girl, trying to climb on the lower shelves with one hand reaching up, her tongue was out as she concentrated on her prize. Ransom snorted slightly before grabbing two packages of the chocolate chip cookies the small girl was so focused on getting. She looked up at him, Ransom stopped for a second as two very familiar eyes stared at him. He shook his head, many people had blue eyes.

“You’re gonna fall if you climb shelves.” He stretched out one of the packages. The girl just looked up at him, clearly hesitant. “Take it.” Ransom nodded.

“My mommy says not to talk to strangers, or get candy from them.” She retorted, still eyeing the cookies.

“Your mommy sounds smart. So, should I put these back, or?” His lips curled a little at the corners as the girl grabbed them out of his hand. She muttered a thank you before running off. Ransom watched as she ran to the woman at the end of the other aisle, he had just turned around to leave when his head snapped back in recognition.

You were just about to cross of the last item when Mary came running with her favourite cookies clutched safely in her arms.

“Mommy, I couldn’t reach so the nice man helped me.” She said, pointing before placing her precious cookies carefully in the cart. You raised your stare from your daughter’s figure to the man to thank him, and your eyes met with the one person you had been avoiding for the last six years. The can you were just about to place in the cart fell out of your hand, rolling away, sending Mary to catch it.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out, your heart thumping in your chest loudly. Your eyes drifted to Mary who was so unaware of her mother’s panic, and then back to Ransom, standing only a few feet away. He eyed Mary too, the initial surprise in his eyes leaving its place for a stormy look.

“So how old is she?” He asked, finally looking at you with squinted eyes as he put two and two together.

“Ransom.” You breathed out and took a step towards him.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“She’ll be six in a couple of months.” You gripped the metal cart, steadying yourself as you didn’t trust your feet.

“Why the-” he exhaled sharply, his eyes drifting between you and Mary who know looked at him with big eyes that were too damn familiar, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Mommy?” Mary turned to you; her little face twisted with confusion.

“Ransom, please, not now. I,” you sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this one, “I promise I’ll tell you everything. But not now. Give me your phone, I’ll text you.” You babbled, words slipping out of your mouth as your hands shook ever so slightly, you held one out towards him.

“I have your number, if you didn’t change it.” He mumbled, crouching, his eyes never left Mary. You stared at him for a second, dumbfounded, you would think a man like Ransom would delete your number the second you slammed the door as you left, never to return again.

“What’s your name?” Mary’s eyes turned to you, searching your face. Upon seeing your small nod, she took a step towards the man.

“Mary.”

“Nice to meet you, Mary.”

You watched the whole thing unfold in front of you, your mouth slightly open. You had imagined this moment for so many times, over and over, yet the gentle expression on Ransom’s face was so… Foreign. Unexpected.

“Come on, honey.” You scooped Mary up in your arms, unable to watch any more. Your gaze turned to Ransom. “I’ll text you.” You turned, feeling all sorts of emotions dance in your chest as you pushed the cart away with Mary, who turned her head back to where the man was still standing.

Ransom stood there, watching the woman he had once loved, walk away with his daughter. His daughter. Family dinner would have to wait, as Ransom found it hard to walk away. He was still standing there, watching you place Mary into her car seat, when he felt something new in his heart. He gulped.

Ransom Drysdale was a selfish asshole, but in that moment, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his daughter.

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

My GOD I suck at titles. Might write a part 2 if anyone’s interested! Also, my inbox is open for requests!

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #knives out #ransom drysdale fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x readrer

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Note

Saddest billy hcs? I have one where he gets sexually abused by a lifeguard as a kid but never told anyone because he’s scared

I think you sent that to me, bc I for sure wrote one that was that. It’s here. (TW for mentioned sexual assault in the ficlet)

Okay, I’m gonna do this like I did the Steve one. Strap on in.

Warnings for mentions of child abuse and some allusions to substance abuse. There’s one labeled with a TW that deals with self-harm, some suicidal ideation, and substance abuse if you squint real hard

Billy’s a crier. He cries when he’s sad, angry, frustrated, happy, all the time. Neil knows this

They left California bc Neil found out Billy was dating/kissing/screwing another guy and you cannot change my mind

Billy genuinely thinks he’s never going to see 30. He doubts he’ll even see 25. Between Neil, and the fire inside of him that burns way too bright to be sustainable, he figures he’ll be a die young kinda guy

He was chubby as a kid. Neil often called him “Lard Ass”.

We see a lot of Billy using things his father has said against him, against other people, like in the flashback thing in season 3 when Neil calls him a pussy, and then he calls another kid a pussy, basically see above.

Sometimes he refuses to touch Steve for days on end because he is still so disgusted with himself for their fight and how much he hurt him and feels like he doesn’t deserve to touch Steve

Lucas was the first person he apologized to after That Night. Then to Max, then to Steve, then to Mrs. Byers

Hopper pulled him over once for speeding. Bily was shaking their entire interaction and Hopper decided to let him off with a warning when he noticed the red mark on his jaw

TRIGGER WARNING I go back and forth on this one. Sometimes I can picture modern Billy self-harming, but he tends to lash out more than put it on himself so I really don’t know. Sometimes it makes the most sense and sometimes I feel like he’d just be vaguely self-destructive, like party too much and do whatever drug he can get his hands on and drive drunk and just think like ‘if I die I die’

When he gets out of his dad’s house he goes down a big scary road of self-destruction bc he literally doesn’t know how to control himself outside of fearing for his safety from his own father.

Body issues? Body issues.

He has a very weird relationship with himself. He absolutely hates himself and who he is as a person, but he also thinks that he’s the best in all ways and swings wildly between both attitudes

The scar on his eyebrow is from his dad’s class ring. Billy buys an eyebrow pencil to fill it in because while he thinks he looks hot, he also really hates looking at it and knowing why it’s there

The first week they moved to Hawkins, Billy drove to Indianapolis and went on a bender for three days bc he just couldn’t deal with the fact that this shitty town has his life now.

His room has almost no furniture bc he was only allowed to bring what he could fit in the Camaro. He bought himself the couch and his bed frame second hand once they arrived in town

The first time Billy saw Steve was in between classes. Billy walked into a classroom on his first day at Hawkins High, and Steve was talking with the teacher and looked like he was about to burst into tears, and Billy noticed he was holding a failed test, and kept talking about how hard he studied, and his only thought was that he wanted to hold Steve and kiss the sad look off his face, and it was like a block of ice settled in his gut. He hates himself for liking guys, and that’s the whole reason they had to leave California, and he can’t do that here, Neil would kill him this time. He resolves to be nothing but fucking aggressive to Steve if they ever cross paths again because he needs Steve to hate him. He doesn’t have the capacity to stay away from him, he needs Steve to want nothing to do with him.

Steve of course ruins everything by forgiving him and falling in love with him and generally looking Like That so really Billy never stood a fucking chance

Billy has called his dad “Dad” less than five times in his life. It’s always “sir” or he calls him “Neil” when referring to him behind his back

Billy knows the exact date and time his mom left and that whole day is always really shitty for him. He usually spends it in the middle of a bender so he doesn’t have to think or feel about it

Billy felt absolutely disgusted by the group of moms by the pool, but figured if he didn’t play into it, they would start to ask questions, and rumors circulating about him fucking married women were probably better than the rumors about him fucking guys soooo, swings and roundabouts.

Teaching swim lessons is actually one of his favorite things he’s ever done. He can connect with the kids and he likes that kids just speak their minds and are kinda weird sometimes. It was nice to focus on them, too, and not their mothers ogling him from the sidelines

He came out to his mom a week and a half before she left and he often wonders if that’s why

His dad is ex-military and his plan is for Billy to join up after high school. Billy’s plan is to run away before then.

So, here they are. A lot of them kinda deal with the same stuff, but basically, yes.

#ask to tag #yikes headcanons #yikes writes #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #tw child abuse #neil hargrove

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riisinaakka-draws · 3 years

Text

part 2/6

2nd part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

This time the drawings are short comics that were abandoned for a reason or another, mostly because I lost the interest or felt like there was too much to redraw compared to the satisfaction of finishing something else more interesting. There’s also some talk about rigid mindset and how overthinking can lead to stagnation.

Contains early silverflint moments, specks of dust, rackham's glasses are found, jealous-Billy spying, desk-Flint gets caught, "squint-squint", a quiet moment and its bird dilemma etc.

And please do not steal and repost elsewhere. But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations!

Long-ish post under the cut!

“What are you thinking about?”

“Specks of dust.”

“Liar.”

The idea was to show how much they and their relationship had changed. This was around 2016 when the season 3 began and I was still re-learning to draw with a tablet. Another art from the same time period (and idea) is this art: The Dynamic Duet.

And for some reason I was really stuck up thinking that I’d have to first do the sketch, then the clean line art, then planes underneath, then shadows etc. and I have always struggled with that kind of approach! Mainly because I hate doing clean line work, lol. And I was a fool for trying to start with a white canvas! It’s so much harder to find values and plan things, or at least in my opinion..

“Rackham’s glasses are found”

To celebrate their new pirate alliance, they share the four lenses of Rackham’s sunglasses as they were also found at the time (because I wanted it to resurface and they could be made into jewellery you know...). This was right after the episode where Anne fights and hurts her hands (here wearing protecting mittens from Max even though she’s not trusted at the moment). Uh, this doesn’t spark joy interest me much and it’s quite stiff and would recuire a lot of redrawing faces, so - discarded!

I somewhat like the idea still (them having something to share, although it’s on Jack’s detriment). I tried to find a stylished comical easier doodlier? way to draw them and draw clean lines etc, but it just wasn’t for me. Also here too, the background is blank and too bright. Later I started to think things as scenes and draw everything at the same time instead of adding the bg later or trying to show everything (and everyone) at the same time.

Here’s also Billy in the same story:

He’s spying on them and since it’s so bright he’s wearing his diy “sunglasses” and being envious to the others. *cough* uhhh...Idk? Also people were shipping Ben Gunn (and cheese) with Billy, so that bled into this too... Charles’ spirit is riding the “big white bird” that was mentioned in Teach’ story and in this case it’s a pelican.

As you can see, I also wasn’t using the brushes that I use nowadays. A hard (or soft) round brushes with no change in opacity just aren’t for me. For example, in traditional art, I struggle with markers and copics, but really enjoy charcoals and watercolours. I prefer ragged edges, layering and thus blending things into each other (and leaving the viewer to fill in the gaps) instead of having stark or definite things. I also struggle with vector drawings, although I have decided to finally start learning to use them...somedayyyy.

Also, I wasn’t paying attention to anatomy, like, at all LMAO. I was just so happy to be able to put something on the canvas.

This is one of my first ink drawings, but I cannot find the original anymore. Again, I like the idea, but not how things look art-wise. And I was so adamant, that I have to get everything right in the traditional drawing and not fix anything later on on photoshop because then it would be cheating. And thus, I was never able to move on or finish this properly the way I liked it (idiot).

BUT! It was a good practise to just draw and test things on paper and gain confidense on drawing things in overall (as I was still getting back into art). To get over the fear of blank paper you know, and try to find my style whatever it would start to form into.

Oh, yeah, Desk Flint.

Desk Flint was a thing for a while (still is, lol). Another drawing from that time is this Slingshot Pirate (2016). And Desk Flint keeps repeating in many later works too. The point is mainly “Flint sitting behind his desk and people interrupt him and I don’t have to draw him fully”

Well, anyway... moving on.

Here’s a plan that has been stuck for years. It’s name is “Squint-squint.” Left is the sketch (with another sketch underneath because the expressions were clearer in the old one). On the right is the continued piece with colour scheme but I cropped the eyes panel and faces out (it was so ugly for some reason) but if I ever continue/finish this, it will be redrawn there in the middle.)

Left. “On that moment their eyes were literally open(ed).”

Right. “After squinting on the shore for days, they had actually forgotten how pretty the other idiot’s eyes were.”

I still like it, quite a lot, but my perfectionist ass only sees too much “boring” things to draw and get right, so it hasn’t been a priority for a long time and other works have kept me occupied and more interested in them.

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

“Quiet Moment.” 2018 (a wordless comic happening after the events of Charles Town)

I’m going to explain after these pictures, but see how big the difference is when you start to look at references and plan things together (the space, “camera” movement, background etc). I also started to colour with coarser brushes:

I drew this around early 2018. A lot of improvement! Still quite a lot of negative space (empty white backgrounds), but it fits this work. A few things tell where we are (the ship’s cabin and the balcony). Changing distances and how things are cropped/framed make things more moving and focused (and less to draw, lol). Colours and brush strokes are softer, more layered and so on.

But guess why it’s still a wip!

I couldn’t decide what bird is flying over there.

Yeap! At first it was an albatross (doesn’t go to Bahamas?). Then a seagull (but which seagull? there’s so many subspecies! Is the ship at sea or at the harbour? what birds are there on the open water/ close to the shore?? oh noo...) So, yeah, wayyyy too much over-thinking.

At some point I ended up with white-tailed-tropic-bird which was a plus! because it sounds like the bosun’s whistle, but at that point I was so tangled and frustrated and still had so much to finish with this that I left it be. Also Flint’s face looks different in every frame so I would’ve had to change some parts, lol. And then I forgot it for a couple of years! And then I had learned to draw a bit differently and again saw too much things to do, so it’s quite hard to take on this again, especially when there are so many other interesting wips waiting...

But I still really like the feeling of it! And the colour scheme. So I might just limit the things I’m allowed to fix and then post it as it own someday. I mean, it’s 90% finished, but the last reach just feels like miles.

And that’s what usually happens with my wips. They reach a certain point and it suddenly becomes really hard to finish or get back into.

But every time I learn things and then use the information in another work! :D

Final note for this post (altough this has been said hundreds of times): use references and look how things go and try to see the structure and form beneath things. And think where it is happening and how the light and surroundings affects the characters and/or spaces. And maybe think what you’re trying to convey with the art, what idea? what emotions? what purpose? or like, what are you trying to learn with the piece? and so on...

Thanks for checking this out, I hope you had fun <3

#black sails doodle #long post #but not as long as the future ones heh #tag for Block Spoils doodles #<- if you want to black list these

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nomtterwhere · 4 years

Text

silent treatment || marco peña x reader

request: @mansaaay requested “Jealous or mad marco which leads to silent treatment?”

summary: a friendly game on a rainy day gone bad

warnings: not much, gets a little spicy towards the end, but no smut

word count: 2203

you and marco are in his room, you sitting in the chair at his desk and him sitting up on his bed. you had planned on going to the river today to have a picnic, but when you woke up that morning it was downpouring. it was supposed to rain for a while, so the two of you had just been hanging out at marco’s house, trying to figure out ways to keep yourselves occupied until it stopped.

“time!” you call out as the timer on your phone went off.

you open your eyes and look at your picture, laughing out loud.

“marco, i am genuinely so sorry about this.” you manage through your laughter.

“oh god, not again.”

one of the games you had come up with was like pictionary, except harder. each of you picked a card with an object on it and you had to draw a picture of that object with your eyes closed in thirty seconds. then you showed it to each other and if the other person could guess what it was, they got a point.

the game had proven to be harder than you had originally thought, considering you have been playing for almost an hour and the score was only 3 to 5. (a lot of that time was spent guessing and then fighting over who got the point) you were winning, of course.

you hold yours up and marco’s eyes widen. “um...” he tilts his head, as if that’ll help. “a sailboat?”

you shake your head, turning the paper and looking at it yourself. “are you kidding me? that looks nothing like a sailboat.”

“it doesn’t look like much of anything!” he exclaims. “hang on, bring it here.”

you get up and walk over to his bed, sitting cross legged in front of him and hold out the picture to him.

he takes it from you, holding it closer and starts laughing. “y/n, what the actual hell.”

you feign offense even though you knew it was terrible. “i did my best! come on, you have two more guesses, make good use of them.”

“okay,” he squints. “is it a plane?”

you give him a look. “are you even trying?”

“i am! it’s not my fault you suck at drawing!” he ducks as you swing a pillow at his head and gives you a smile.

“okay, okay.” he lays the paper down in front of him and studies it, his hands folded underneath his chin.

you roll your eyes, knowing he was only doing so to mock you.

“a car!” he says, looking up at you.

you shake your head, holding up your card. “it’s a tractor!” you take your picture from him, holding it up. “see, these are the wheels and see how the front is bigger than the back? i really don’t see how you got sailboat from this.”

“why is that even an option?” marco complains. “car, tractor, is there really a difference? they both have wheels.”

you softly pat his cheek. “don’t be a sore loser. now come on, let’s see yours.”

he groans. “mine is too easy.” but he hands it over nonetheless.

you smile, looking at the obvious depiction on the piece of paper. “a dog!”

“absolutely unfair. how come you get to guess all the easy ones and i get ones like tractor and velociraptor?”

you laugh at him. “because the universe knows what it wants. and what it wants is for me to win.”

“or because you’re cheating.” he says, raising an eyebrow.

you let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over your heart. “how dare you accuse me of such a crime? i would never.”

“you know, now that i think about it. you were the one to pick the cards for each round.” marco speculates, collecting the sheets of paper spread out on his bed.

he walks over to the trash bin in his room, dumping the papers inside.

“i hope you’re going to put those in the recycling bin later.” you say as he comes back over to you.

“yes, of course. i just don’t feel like going downstairs right now.” he wraps his arms around your waist and wiggles his way into your embrace.

you lean back on the bed, adjusting so his body was on top of yours, your arms around his shoulders.

he buried his head in your stomach, placing soft kisses on the exposed skin from where your shirt had ridden up.

you ran your fingers along his bare back, tracing a random pattern as you went. every once in a while, you would lightly scratch his skin, then gently rub it with your thumb and listen as he sighed against your stomach.

“you wanna play another round?” you say after a while.

“are you gonna cheat this time?” marco’s response came muffled.

you run a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. “you can pick out the cards for us if it’ll make you feel better.”

he picks his head up with a grin. “then let’s do it.” he reaches up and you lean down, giving him a quick kiss.

he whines when you pull away and tightens his arms around your center.

“i’m gonna need a longer kiss than that if you want to get up.” he closes his eyes again.

you laugh, but cup his cheeks and bring him in for a longer kiss. he hums against your lips, clearly pleased as he slips his tongue in. your mouths moved together in a familiar rhythm, slowly, as if trying to memorize each other. and you get that feeling you always do when you kiss him, a constant reminder of how much you love him. that is, until:

“still a cheater.” he mumbles against your lips.

“oh, shut up.” you push at his shoulders until he releases you, falling into his back beside you as he laughs.

you get up and grab the box with the object cards on them, bringing it over to marco.

“alright, let’s do this.” you toss it onto the bed.

“this is how someone who doesn’t cheat do it, for future reference.” he says, making a big show of putting a hand over his eyes and reaching into the box with his other arm.

he pulls out two cards and hands one to you with a grin.

“this is the last one. whoever wins this round wins the whole game.”

you watch as he sits up, glancing at his own card. “you’re just saying that because you’re losing.”

he looks up at you with a shrug. “whatever my reasons are, the terms still stand.”

you go back to his desk, grabbing a pen and two sheets of paper, handing marco one of the sheets. you decide to stay on the floor, not wanting to walk back to his desk.

“can you set the timer?” you situate yourself on the ground, laying in your stomach.

“yup.” marco’s voice came from above you.

you take this opportunity to finally glance at your card and grin when you see ‘giraffe.’ no matter how great you did, there was no way that was going to be the word that would pop into his head.

“okay, i’m ready!”

“alright...go!” he says and you close your eyes and start drawing.

and contrary to what others may think, you really did try. you thought you got the outline of the giraffe down and maybe messed up a little on the spots. but when the thirty seconds were up and you looked at your drawing, you couldn’t even tell if it was an animal.

you laugh aloud and marco groans, knowing what that sound means.

“you are definitely doing this on purpose, no one is this bad at drawing.” he says when he sees your finished product.

“hey! i tried really hard!” you defend your terrible drawing.

but he was right, it did look like you were cheating considering how awful the majority of your drawings came out.

marco shakes his head and looks up at you. “i have no idea, just tell me.”

you smile up at him from the floor. “you don’t even want to guess?”

guessing by the look he gave you, you were going to go with no.

“it’s a giraffe!”

he stares at you and then looks at your drawing, then back at you. “you’re kidding.”

“alright well let’s see yours then, picasso.” you hold out your hand for his drawing.

you study it for a moment, whatever it is, it’s big. he has one big circle as an outline and you could tell he tried to draw details inside of it but you couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be.

but you saw some squiggles drawn on the sides and assumed it was meant to be water so:

“a whale?” you guess and marco grins.

“nope.”

he looked so smug even though you still had two guesses left. and you were determined wipe that look of of his face.

you turn your attention a back to the picture, looking at the shape once again. it had to be something under water, unless those lines he drew were just to throw you off. you look at the circles drawn and realize they’re meant to be windows.

“is it a submarine?” you look up with a smile.

marco’s jaw drops and he grabs the paper from your hand.

“how on earth did you guess that? in what world does anyone ever guess submarine?”

you take the paper back from him. “uh, when the drawing looks like a submarine.” you hold up the drawing. “i win!”

“you cheated.” marco laid back down on his bed, folding an arm over his eyes.

“i did not. you even picked the cards, there was no way i could have known yours.” he didn’t respond. “marco?” still no response.

you stand up from the floor, gathering the papers you used and tossing them out. you look over at marco who is still laying on his bed, completely silent.

“so now you’re not talking to me?” nothing.

“you are such a child, you know that?” he only shifts of his bed.

“this is how children act. they don’t get their way and they throw a little fit just like this.” you gesture towards him.

he lifts his arm to glance at you for a moment and the places it back on his face, ignoring you once again.

you knew he could hold out for a while when he got like this, but you were already bored and wanted to be bored together. and you couldn’t do that if he was ignoring you. so you decided to speed up the process.

“marco.” you test the waters and he still doesn’t respond. “mar-co.” you sing song, walking towards the bed.

you sit next to him, leaning forward to try and peek underneath his arm. “marco, my love.”

he didn’t move but you saw the smile forming on his face and knew you were breaking him. so you take it a step further.

you get on top of him, straddling his waist and placing your hands on his bare chest. you trail your fingers down his chest, purposefully tracing his abs painstakingly slow.

marco lets out a groan, his hands move to grip your thighs, holding on to you tightly.

he opens his eyes and grins at you, shaking his head. “you play dirty.”

you drop a kiss on his chest. “according to you, it’s the only way i know how to play.”

he shakes his head and moves so he’s sitting up against his headboard, holding you in his lap. he leans forward, ducking his head into the crook of your neck.

“that’s because you were cheating. there is no reasonable excuse for how you messed up so much.” he says, as he trails his lips up and down your neck.

“i was blindfolded!” you say, then gasp as he nips at your skin.

one hand goes to the back his neck as he continues to tease your skin, a tingling feeling spreading through your body.

“yeah, so was i. and yet you managed to guess 7 of mine.” he murmurs and then looks at you, smiles, and kisses your lips.

he pulls you closer by the backs of your thighs, then moves his hands to your lower back, fingers creeping underneath your shirt.

you sigh as you feel his hand flatten against your bare back, then curl around to grab your waist. he squeezes lightly and you laugh into his mouth, your next kiss swallowing the sound.

“i’m still mad at you, you know.” he mumbles in between kisses.

you grin, pulling back for a moment. you rub your hands across his broad shoulders, watching as his eyes shut in relaxation.

“i’m sorry, baby. what can i do to make it up to you?”

his eyes open, and you can see them sparkle with mischief. he flips the two fo you over so he’s hovering above you and brings his lips right by your ear.

“oh, i have a few ideas.” he whispers before capturing your lips in another kiss.

alright, so maybe the silent treatment wasn’t such a bad thing...

taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @shherlxck @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife

#marco pena x reader #marco pena imagine #marco pena x y/n #marco pena #the kissing booth 2 #kissing booth 2 #the kissing booth #marco peña imagine #marco peña x reader #marco peña x y/n #marco peña #taylor zakhar perez

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surferboypizzas · 3 years

Text

The Reconciliation

summary: an ahs; coven fix-it-fic in which zoe tricks kyle and madison into reconciling.

warning: this fic includes discussion of s*xual assault and death. also swearing.

what you need to know about this au before reading:

Zoe was friends with Kyle before he died, and when Zoe and Madison brought zombified Kyle back to the coven, he was taken in by the small school.

There never was (and is not currently) anything romantic or sexual going on between Zoe, Madison, and Kyle.

Kyle did attempt to kill madison, he did not succeed. Ironically, he was stopped by Zoe, who (newly resurrected by Cordelia) ran upstairs after hearing screaming.

Fiona did not "fix" (I hate using that word in relation to him, but still) Kyle the way she does in the show.

The school has not been opened up to other witches outside of the coven, but this is a while after the events of Coven.

Misty and Nan are alive.

Madison and Zoe aren't gross people. Think of a gross bad thing they've done? It's gone. I've erased it. Never happened. We all know Queenie is the only canonically good person who is also a witch student in Coven.

~~~

"Ok. Now, Kyle, you go first." Zoe speaks from her space in between Kyle and Madison, who are standing across her room from each other. Snow falls outside, and the school’s old heater creaks in the background. For the last two weeks, Zoe had been waiting for the perfect moment to trap these two in a room together and convince them to make amends. Kyle turns to look at Zoe with a face of pure disbelief.

“Sh-” He points to Madison with his eyes wide, “She ki-killed me!”

Zoe looked at him with her arms crossed. “And you tried to kill her! C’mon, Kyle. Please just- apologize?” Kyle squinted at her and then sighed, nodding his head and pressing his palms together nervously while he turned back to Madison.

“I’m so-rry. Sorry.” He apologized half-heartedly. He could never say no to his friends, especially Zoe.

Madison smiled and sarcastically placed her hand over her heart. “Well, that was moving. I think we really made a breakthrough here! Thanks, Kyle! See ya!" Madison starts to make her way out of the room before Zoe grabs her arm to keep her from leaving. Madison slows to a stop right in front of the door.

“Madison.” When Madison still didn’t turn to look at her, Zoe uses her nickname. “Mads, you made up with Misty, who you actually tried to kill, is it so hard to make up with Kyle?" Madison rolled her eyes at Zoe’s trademark ‘mom tone’ that she only used with her. She hated how Zoe had started to shift the way she spoke to be tailored to each person around her. At first, Madison thought it was just some weird baby voice she used on Kyle, until one day she realized Zoe had given her a baby voice too. That she had started treating Madison like she was going to throw a fit if not handled in a specific way. She finally turns back to face Zoe.

“Give me one reason why I should, and- don’t give me that ‘because I said so’ bullshit," Madison says. Zoe pauses for a second before pulling both Madison and herself back to their original spots.

“Listen up, you are both very important to me and the rest of our family,” Zoe started (Madison already wanted to Vincent van Gogh her ears off), “and it would mean a lot if you two were to make up. I love you both, and I just want the people I love to get along. Is that really so hard to understand and achieve?” Zoe ends her sentence looking at Madison with a slightly pleading look.

Madison glances at Kyle and sees how easily his grumpy face melted into a grin at the word ‘family’ and rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She spoke, then sees Kyle’s smile grow. “Not for you, dumbass. For Zoe.” Kyle blinks at her dumbfounded, but not quite offended. Zoe looks between the two, she is clearly thrilled that her plan is working, but is attempting to contain her delight.

"So... I'm like... sorry. I guess." Madison says, clearly uncomfortable. Zoe moves her hand signaling her to keep going, (this is also an attempt to teach Kyle non-punchy conflict resolution skills, after all). So Madison restarts. this time actually looking Kyle in the eye.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for killing you, and I'm sorry for bringing you back." Kyle’s face twists in confusion at those last words, why would she be sorry for bringing him to the coven? Was she being sarcastic? It didn't feel like she was. He thinks Madison is finished for a moment, but she continues. "I'm going to be soft as hell for a second, so Kyle, listen up because I will never repeat this. Ever. And if you bring this up ever again I will gaslight the shit out of you and deny it ever happened. Now, you," she pointed at Zoe, "Need to leave so that I can be honest."

“Wait- me?” Zoe points at herself in confusion.

“No bitch, the ghost behind you. Yes, you. Trust me.” Madison says, gesturing at her to leave the room. Kyle and Zoe look at each other (Kyle seeming a little nervous), then Zoe nods and exits the room, closing the door behind her. For a moment Zoe considers eavesdropping through the door, but then decides to take the moral high ground... and considers listening with a spell instead.

Madison walks around Kyle to drape herself over Zoe’s soft chair by the window, and Kyle sits on Zoe’s bed, having to carefully move her books to do so. There is a moment of awkward silence, and Kyle starts picking at the fuzzballs on his red sweater. He wants to give her time to think of what she wants to say. His eyes snap up to hers when she starts speaking again.

"I'm sorry for being more bitchy to you than I am to the average person. It's just that- It's just that you... ok, let me explain. So you know how Zoe and I put your twunk ass back together with different limbs and shit? The frat boys' limbs?" Kyle nods, even though he doesn’t know what a twunk is. "So- to me, you're this lumbering giant whose arms and legs are this constant reminder of... the shit that happened.” Kyle tilts his head at this. Not only because the last word he would use to describe himself is giant, Kyle felt small most of the time. But also because he doesn't really remember much of what happened before he was dead, and assumes she is referring to the other Kyle. The Kyle without scars that Zoe has a few pictures of. "Shit, you don't know what happened." Kyle shakes his head and goes to say something, but Madison speaks before he can. "All you need to know is that some people were doing bad things. To me. And they were your... friends. Or whatever."

Kyle could tell Madison was trying to stay casual, but he has a sinking feeling that what happened to her wasn't nothing. "B- bad thing- gs?" He asks.

Madison was stiffer and speaking softer than before. Kyle had only seen her act small once before, and it was when he was hurting her. His stomach filled with guilt, usually, he tries not to think about what he did too often. He didn't like that feeling. "Yeah, Kyle. Bad things." Madison says while looking out the window.

Something in Kyle recognizes her tone and posture. He can’t quite put a finger on what, though. "Hur- hurt you?" He asks. Kyle watches Madison shrink in her chair and decides to go back to picking at his sweater, and attempt not to pressure her to respond quickly. As he does, the familiarity of the situation continues to tug at him. She looks a bit like how he felt after what happened at the other Kyle’s house. Or how he felt when he thought about the lady there. Zoe says that lady is (or... was) his mother, but he doesn't believe her. He sees mothers on the TV every day, and that lady is not at all what a mother is. If anything, Ms. Cordelia was his mother. she was all grown up, and Kyle was only 19. Ms. Cordelia never yelled at him, always helped him when he got in big trouble, and gave him those gross leaves when his stomach hurt. Kyle thinks about who Madison's mother might be. He hopes that Madison can talk to her about the bad things that happened.

Looking back up at the unusually vulnerable girl across from him, who is hugging her knees and staring out the window, he feels about her the way he feels about who he used to be. He wants to hug her and protect her and tell her that it’s not her fault those people made her so sick, and that he is so sorry he hurt her, and that he knows she feels soft and stained- but that one day she will be allowed to be happy and messy and big at the same time.

"Yes." Her words snap him out of his own head and back into the situation at hand. Madison's neutral expression does not waver.

Kyle points at himself and decides to ask just one more question, the one ringing in the back of his mind. "My Frien- ds?"

Madison is quiet for a moment before responding. "They were your friends. But you- I really don’t think you knew they were bad, Kyle. The thing is that... when I see your tattoos... I start to think about what happened, and when you make sudden moves I jump a little. So it was, sometimes still is, hard for me to be around you. You're just- big. If that makes sense. Like they were. I'm sorry for giving you those parts of them... for making you carry their shit with you. At least some parts of their sorry asses were finally put to good use when they became a part of your whole labrador retriever thing you've got going on.” Kyle is clearly upset by the fact that he cared about such bad people, and that he couldn’t tell they were mean sooner. “Oh, stop giving me that guilty look like you had something to do with what happened to me. You tried to help me, shithead. Now calm down." Madison says.

"I help-p ed you?" A soft smile starts spreading across Kyle's face.

Madison raises her eyebrows at his reaction. "Calm down Kyle, stopping those guys was a bare minimum thing to do." Madison starts, (Kyle frowns), "But thank you. For 'protecting' me or whatever. Congratulations! I guess you were always meant to be our guard dog."

Despite her insults, Kyle once again feels a surge of affection rise inside of him towards her. This time, he stumbles over to Madison, leans down, and engulfs her in a hug. He was never good with boundaries. He couldn't use his words to express himself, so he leaned on using physical affection (or fighting people but that wasn't currently applicable) to show people how he felt. His eyes instantly widened and he quickly pulled away.

"Sor-ry!" He stepped away from her, hanging his head and mumbling like an embarrassed child. “S-udden Move-ment." Kyle brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes before looking back at her to see if she looked upset.

Something inside of Madison grew sappy and soft. This idiot toddler-man had somehow comprehended the convoluted shit she was saying, and is trying to change his behavior according to it. She stands up and speaks, "It's fine Kyle. Really. Just, warn me next time. Or walk slower if talking is too hard."

Kyle decides to take the latter approach. "O-Ok." He said, then began to approach her very slowly. Like- very, very, very slowly.

Madison wishes there was someone else in the room she could look at to confirm that Kyle was, in fact, being insane. "Ok, I don't have all day. I'm going to need something faster than a snail's pace." She says.

Kyle stops and wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Snails. yuck!"

Madison’s expression turns into one of pure (amused) shock. "So the two words you do fully have down are 'snails. yuck.'? How- how does that even happen? Don't answer that, I don’t care. Hurry it up. Hug me now or never, Day of the Dead."

Kyle walked up to Madison and bear hugs her, she is significantly shorter than him, so she almost disappears into his sweater. Madison doesn’t hug him back at first, she instead lets her arms fall to her sides.

"F-riends now." He pats her on the head gently and intentionally. "Sa-safe now." He says in the softest voice he can muster (generally Kyle finds that he is stuck speaking at one volume, and that volume is loud).

Madison freezes at his last two words, then returns his hug for a moment. She thinks this might be the first time she’s ever hugged a boy who didn’t want to kiss her. It was nice. After a few moments, she clears her throat and steps back from him. "Thank you, Kyle." She says genuinely.

"Mhm!" He says, then just smiles at her, happy to have made a new friend. It was one more person on his list of people to protect and be protected by, and in his mind, there was nothing better than that. "L-et's te-ll Zoe w-e're frien-ds now." Kyle says, gesturing at Madison to follow him.

"What the fuck did I just get myself into," Madison mumbles, before following Kyle to the living room.

#;asjdf;asfjadfs #so is this any good??#ahs #ahs coven #ahs fic #ahs gen fic #zoe benson #madison montgomery #kyle spencer #evan peters #himbo.writes #himbo.speaks #this tis my first fic here #fave #tw s*xual assault #tw swearing #fic recs

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orbitariums · 4 years

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟕)

note: omg YALLLLL this chapter took me so long to write and was lowkey frustrating i hope y’all love ittttt

there’s some teaaaa towards the end y’all!! and i’m soooo excited to see where their relationship goes

this is i think the longest chapter of girls on film? BEAR WITH ME!!

playlist

warnings: age gap, masturbation, sexually frustrated steve!, feelingsss <3, mentions of weed & alcohol

word count: 10.7k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 7: 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

"Okay, now twirl around for me a little."

Aaliyah threw her head back with laughter as she followed through with your request and spun around, her dress lifting up while she turned, a smile on her face all the while. The light hit her just right against the brick wall she was posing in front of, and you chuckled as you snapped a photo on your cheap - but functioning - camera. You paused to look through the pictures and grinned as you scrolled through the selection.

"I keep telling you my cousin takes pictures, she could've hooked us up with a photoshoot photoshoot, like a real one."

"I know," you grinned, speaking quietly as you were still focusing on the results of the pictures you'd just taken. "I wanna do everything myself though, you know?"

You squinted through your sunblocked eyes as you looked up at your beautiful best friend, continuing,

"Total creative control."

Aaliyah gazed down at you in admiration, and pushed up the sunglasses that you designed,

"That's YN for you. Independent in every way. How'd the pictures come out?"

Aaliyah bounded up next to you, unable to contain all her excitement to see herself in your clothes. Today was the long awaited photoshoot that you and Aaliyah had been organizing for the past week, a photoshoot wherein Aaliyah modeled for your brand. You organized it together, just the two of you, and put together a plan. You were always ready to organize something, which was why you performed so well at all your jobs - student, state rep office intern, and camgirl.

But this was more than just logic and planning, you truly put your heart and soul into this, because even though you did a lot already, you were centering your clothing brand as your main focus as the summer and graduation drew closer. After college, you'd have to figure your life out. Aaliyah would be trying her hand at med school, but with your Environmental Studies major, you didn't figure that you would be attending grad school. You could get an entry level job somewhere, a place that was similar to your job as an intern at the state rep office, because you could advocate for environmental policy there.

Or you could continue working where you worked, but you figured after graduation it would be best to shift. You already had your own place, and had moved out of college dorms at the end of your sophomore year, so you had no reason to move. But regardless of what you ended up doing as a career, you were excited for free time to continue your clothing brand.

You had already created the website, and you were going to be putting up listings following this photoshoot in which Aaliyah modeled all the clothing you had available. This was an exciting day for both of you, you felt like you were moving into the next step of your life and Aaliyah was so glad to be supporting you. You showed her the pictures while she squealed in awe, the both of you clamoring over which ones were the best. You felt grateful for this moment, and prayed there would be more like this to come. Right now was only the beginning.

"Issa look!" you chimed excitedly, pointing at one of the pictures of Aaliyah in a pair of distressed jeans and a tube top you had sewn.

"YN, I'm seriously so proud of you," Aaliyah said suddenly, and more serious than usual, making you look up from the camera.

You smiled bashfully,

"Thank you, babes."

"No, but really though. These past few months just watching you and being your friend has been amazing. Like you've grown so much, it's crazy. And now you're here finally starting your own brand. I know we're gonna be doing different shit once college is over but I'm so excited to see what more comes out of this, and who you become."

You nearly teared up at Aaliyah's words. She had really been by your side ever since you met, but especially over the past few months, and without even fully knowing what was going on. She might have known about your toxic ex, but you'd hardly spoken to her about Steve. Before you found out who he was, it was just a fun thing, and you only talked about it in joking spirits - but not too much, because you didn't want it to seem like it was serious. And now that you knew who he was, you didn't talk about him at all - she didn't even know that he'd ghosted you.

But the fact that she stayed by your side all that time, watching you crumble and watching you build yourself back up again, oblivious to the entire story, made you feel so grateful for her. You had done the same for her and she would always do the same for you. The reciprocation wasn't transactional, it was mutual and out of love.

Now you were slowly but surely moving on to the next chapters of your lives. While that wouldn't change how close you were, it would mean that you wouldn't be on the same campus day in and day out, and that could make things different. But you were glad to know you had a friend like her to hold you down.

Days like this where you were thriving, making progress, getting shit done, were days where you felt your best.

✺ ✺ ✺

It had been a little over a week since Steve started talking to you on Snapchat, figuring the ins and outs of the ten second videos you would send to him or post on your story, how to customize his Bitmoji to look like him (something you guided him through), and even how to send snapchats himself. You were much more advanced than him when it came to that, though, and you never failed to make fun of Steve for his lack of knowledge on how to take a proper selfie. But as much as Steve loved the fun of Snapchat and the new way to communicate with you as just you, he couldn't help but feel like there could still be more.

And again, he thought that maybe it was possible he was getting eager and hopeful to the point of illusion. Like maybe he was only feeling this way because this was all so new to him and the euphoria that came with this new, exclusive friendship was leading to delirium. But it was a small part of him that felt this way, and he had spent enough time thinking about it to have logical conversations with himself about it. He wasn't letting it drag him down, nor was he drowning in his thoughts.

No, that was what he would've done before. Like you, he had been through some sort of growth, even while he was in the slump that was induced after he stopped talking to you. He realized it was time to stop resisting out of fear and just communicate honestly with himself what he wanted, instead of just sinking into the same cycles he used to let himself go through when he was avoiding the truth.

And so that was why despite this small thought he had, that he was going overboard because he wasn't used to this kind of situation, he didn't brush it off completely. He knew that this tugging feeling at his heartstrings was there for a reason, that if he were to ignore it, he'd either give in dangerously, or miss a beautiful opportunity.

He was taking things slow though, which was why he wasn't just diving straight into the feelings of more intimate attraction that he knew could definitely be there if the both of you just pushed the blinds back a little. What he knew he wanted now though, was the opportunity to continue talking to you on a deeper level. Snapchat was nice, but it felt a bit artificial.

There was only so much that you could do to communicate on a real level over the internet, seeing as you lived on the other side of the country from each other. Steve might have been old fashioned for wanting more, when there was only so much he could get.

But he felt like there was an option for even more personal interaction, though having you on Snapchat felt incredibly intimate - seeing no one else on the cam site got to see your regular life like this. He started to think about the brief conversation he had with you in which you were trying to decide how to communicate safely and personally outside of the Girls on Film site. One of the methods that came up was texting. But for the sake of safety, Steve had denied that form of communication.

Now, though, he was having second thoughts, spurred on by a moment he caught between Natasha and Tony while he was in the meeting room going through paperwork.

They had been sitting in the meeting room too, Natasha just scrolling through one of her many phones with her feet up on the table before her, a red twizzler sitting in her mouth.

"Mind taking your feet off the table?" Tony asked shortly, glaring at Natasha and the way she was sitting.

"Why?" Natasha droned, eyes slowly moving to meet Tony's.

"Uh, how 'bout because it's incredibly expensive material and I just got it professionally cleaned."

"No one asks you to get the tables professionally cleaned you bourgeoise ass," Natasha snapped back, but she put her legs down anyways, continuing to tap away on her phone.

Steve was just regarding their snapping at each other as background music, and not really paying much attention. Natasha sighed suddenly,

"I don't understand why it's so hard for these buyers to understand that I can't give them my real number. Like, am I giving mixed signals?"

Tony chortled at Natasha's demise. Steve knew Natasha was referring to the fact that she sometimes used a blocked number for business or personal reasons, and that when she used it, no one could see the number it was coming from. It was basically an encrypted phone number which Tony helped set up. Natasha was in the habit of building up a knife collection as a hobby. Whether or not she would put those knives to use was unknown, but it was something she was doing for the time being.

Steve hadn't thought much about it, but now that he was hearing Natasha actually talk about texting these people, he was starting to perk up and listen to her. Inevitably, thoughts of you started to trickle into his mind. Like, if Natasha could use her phone for personal matters such as this, there was a likelihood that Steve could maybe, just maybe, do the same thing. He knew that Natasha's personal matters weren't quite the same as his own, but it was worth a try.

"There's something about a dominant woman that men can't resist," Tony commented, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"You'd think the fact that I'm buying knives from them would make them a little less comfortable," she grumbled, and Tony put a supportive hand on her shoulder, patting her arm.

"You could scare 'em off, don't worry."

Steve was leaning forward, listening closely to the conversation now. Natasha turned her head over to Steve with a devious smirk,

"What's up, Steve? Think you could give us some insight on this?"

She was teasing him mercilessly, alluding to that forsaken time that Steve's guilty pleasure had been broadcast on the projector during one of their meetings. That hadn't quite been forgotten yet, and still got brought up in a teasing manner, though no one could figure out why Steve became so withdrawn when it was brought up. Steve was only lucky they didn't know the full extent of his endeavors. Steve stilled slightly, but didn't retract, only replying with a stern glare at Natasha before he continued.

"You... text these buyers?"

"Yeah. I have like, a bunch of numbers on one phone, Tony hooked it up. And I have a bunch of other phones. It's kinda hard to keep track. The only people that really have my number are like, you two, and some other people here. But it's rare that we even text for, you know, personal, kinda recreational stuff. Unless Tony wants my opinion on what movie we should watch," Natasha shrugged.

"Huh," was all Steve said, but he leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin slightly in contemplation.

"By the way, why don't you ever text me? Thought we were friends, Steve," Natasha joked lightly, but Steve was already focused on furthering what was just the beginning of his idea.

"He doesn't need to text you, you routinely save each other's lives," Tony scoffed.

"Tony, mind if I talk to you about something? In private," Steve turned his head to Tony and locked eyes with him.

Tony just smiled and got up instantly,

"Steve, I never thought you'd be the one asking to step into my office."

Steve cringed, thinking back to the time when Tony had asked to step into his office and had passed on the knowledge of Girls on Film to Steve, reminiscing on Tony's immense sense of pride and his need to act as a therapist.

"We can just talk in the hallway," Steve suggested, but to no avail, Tony shaking his head and marching up to Steve, putting his arm around his shoulder.

"No, no, step into my office," Tony repeated, leading Steve to his office where he closed the door, and gestured for Steve to sit in front of the desk while Tony settled into his seat behind the desk. Once they got settled in, Tony just grinned at Steve. "So... you need something."

"It was really just a simple question, we could've even talked about it in the meeting room," Steve started to stammer, feeling a little less confident in his decision to try to talk to you on a personal level.

When he'd heard Natasha talking about how she was able to text personally through a blocked number, he started to think of you and the conversation you'd had about texting him. Snapchat had ended up being the compromise for the two of you, but Steve was beginning to think texting might be better. He loved seeing your life on Snapchat, but social media could only be so real. And Steve wanted to be able to call you and FaceTime you. He could do all those things on Girls on Film, but he was taking a break from that. Besides, it wouldn't really be a friendship if he had to pay you to talk to you.

"Well, you're here now. Let it loose," Tony shrugged, and Steve nodded.

"I was just wondering exactly how Nat's able to text people personally without them seeing her number. I know you're kinda the one in charge of all our technology, and hell if I know how to do it myself."

"Done. I can walk you through it."

"Oh, really. Just- just like that?" Steve sat up, starting to get a little excited thinking of the now possibilities.

Tony shrugged, as if it were quite simple,

"Pretty much. You seem excited." Tony started to sound like he was catching in, leaning back in his chair and resting his chin on his palm, raising an inquiring brow. "Wanna talk to someone special?"

"Special?" Steve nearly choked on his own words, shaking his head and lowering it, not wanting to make eye contact with Tony. "No, no... nothing like that."

He laughed nervously, both because he was a bit of a newbie when it came to lying, and because he was thinking of you, which already made him appear a little dopey. He tried to control it, but in reality, thinking of you actually made him smile. It was confusing - he hadn't felt that way before, and he definitely didn't expect it from himself. He was serious, deep into his work. And you weren't distracting him from his work, but you were making his days just a bit brighter.

And it was something that puzzled him, delightfully. It was why he knew he had to dig deeper, not recoil and be concerned. The confusion was actually pleasant to work through. It helped him sort through his feelings, because the confusion only uncoiled to show his true feelings of desire. He figured maybe the confusion just stemmed from the fact that he never allowed himself to give into these kinds of feelings. So he didn't understand them, not quite yet.

He just knew there had to be a reason that this situation felt so unique. If he didn't give into his feelings until now, there had to be something there. It told him that he should get to know you on that level. It gave him that push to finally test out the waters. Steve Rogers, actually catching romantic feelings - it didn't even sound right, yet it was exactly what was happening. Everyday, he seemed to go even deeper.

"Special lady?" Tony guessed, making Steve compose himself and look up, folding his arms, crossing his legs and looking dead ahead at Tony.

He shook his head and sniffled slightly, eyes breaking away from Tony as he started to lie again, this time as best as he could,

"No."

"You sure about that, Cap?" Tony began to pry, one raised eyebrow at a time. "I mean, there's gotta be a reason you've been all... cute lately."

"Cute?" Steve scoffed, furrowing his brows and looking at Tony.

Steve wasn't exactly nervous to be having this conversation, but it wasn't exactly something he wanted to entertain with Tony. Again, he was keeping you, your relationship, private. Not secret, but private. Nobody else needed to know what Steve had been getting down to, and he didn't want them knowing the specifics of it - not because he was afraid of the fact that you were a sex worker or that you were younger, but because it would be best if he didn't have to explain himself and just how he'd gotten to meet you.

It wasn't like he was forbidden from seeing anyone, in fact it was encouraged by almost everyone that Steve knew. He just figured there might be more hubbub if he had to explain that he hadn't actually met you in real life - he didn't want his team doubting the security of the relationship you two had, or passing along premature judgments. Besides, he wasn't even fully sure himself. He was really only just now looking into the idea. He didn't want everyone in on it before he even solidified anything.

Tony rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively,

"You know what I mean. You've been all, you know, nice again. What's goin' on champ, you can talk to me. Who's the girl?"

Steve shook his head. Surely people had noticed his shift in character yet again, and it was becoming more prominent everyday. Tony would be the first to meddle, try to figure out why. No one knew why he'd been so moody the past few months, or why his moods would suddenly change positively. And he wasn't wrong, it was a girl. But Steve wasn't ready yet. He shook his head, denying it one last time before getting up out of his chair,

"It's nothing like that. I do want that blocked number, though."

"Easy."

| | |

Tony tried to pry again later on when he showed Steve how to use his phone to block out his own number, but Steve didn't give in, he just took the phone back and closed the door to his room, logging on to Snapchat so he could talk to you.

You replied to him quickly, his name popping up on your screen. It was funny, you went through so many names for him on Snapchat (cap, captain, Mr. America, even Mr. Rogers), but you decided to keep it simple. Like Steve, you were also keeping this private - who would you tell besides Aaliyah anyways?

It would be wise for you to keep it private, and that's what you were doing. That's why his name on your Snapchat was just: "Steve ❤️ 💙" followed by a red and blue heart. Although, true to his nature, his username was: "SG.R0818", a username he practically randomized in order to stay incognito.

He was glad you responded fast, from that moment and onward. Even though the both of you talked to each other on the app, you each had busy schedules and different time zones. So sometimes responses were a bit laggy. Still, your conversations always felt right.

Steve ❤️ 💙 Hey, I've got something I wanted to talk to you about.

YN ♡ shoot!

Steve ❤️ 💙 I was thinking about what you said, about texting each other.

YN yeah... are you tryna say something stevie?

Steve's upper lip curved up at the nickname. You didn't know it, or maybe you pretended not to, but it spurred something inside of him when you used any kind of nickname on him. It was just in your naturally flirty demeanor to do so, and maybe this was how you showed Steve that you saw the romantic potential as well. You both obviously did like each other as more than friends, but neither of you had really acted on that yet, and that was fine with you. Just hinting at it, slightly, and being friends, was enough. You didn't think it was that serious.

Steve ❤️ 💙 I decided that I think it would be nice for us to try to text each other. I like Snapchat, but texting is a little easier. We could FaceTime and call each other if you want. I just think it might be a little more real - well, as real as it can get over the phone.

If that's something you're comfortable with. My number would be blocked out, but you'll know it's me.

It was a good thing that Steve couldn't hear you, because you kind of made a weird squealing noise, and threw your hand over your mouth, eyes widened. You were used to talking to him by now, but it was still quite exciting to know who you were talking to. And the idea of actually texting him, and maybe even calling him and getting to see his face outside of your cam website? It excited you.

And it made you happy to think that he really wanted this friendship to go somewhere. You didn't know the full extent of what he wanted to do just yet, but you were glad to see that he was trying, and that he actually enjoyed talking to you enough to want to text and call you regularly. So you steadied your fingers before you typed back, hoping to show your enthusiasm through a simple Snapchat.

YN i'd love to! i'm so glad it's something you've been thinking about. i agree, it feels better to text sometimes. and it'll feel even more normal, i guess. here, i'll give you my number so you can text me.

And from that moment on, Steve was in. He was almost giddy saving your number as a contact. For him, for the both of you, this was another step forward in your relationship. It felt like you were slowly trusting each other more and more. You had already knocked down a major wall just by talking to each other after the reveal to begin with, and by having the reveal in the first place.

So, he was glad that this was coming into fruition. He was satisfied with this. For now. For your name, he typed in your real first name, because that was how he knew you now. And your real name would stand out less if anyone got ahold of his phone messages somehow. He started out by sending a simple text, saying hello and making sure you knew it was him. And even though his number was blocked out, it was clear as day. You were both glad to have moved on to this, to have so many forms of communication between the two of you. It didn't seem like a big deal, but considering your situation, it kind of was. The littlest steps made the room shake.

✺ ✺ ✺

The days seemed to flow by at this point. Like, you felt like getting through life was a breeze. No unexpected storm to knock you off your smooth sailing course to greatness. You were truly moving up, on and out. You felt like now, after all the time you took for yourself to heal, all the time you spent in a sort of neutral state - not going out much, staying to yourself - you could really celebrate.

Even though you were growing all through that neutral state, you felt like now you could finally see through all the fog that had gathered. All the uncertainty that had followed you along your path was nonexistent. You were just glad that you were back on your feet again and feeling like you could take on more new things.

Now that you were nearing graduation, you were really just focusing on final projects and exams schoolwise. For yourself, you were starting work on your online clothing store and camming even more. And you were enjoying your life, being a normal college student, who had Steve Rogers' number. Maybe you didn't actually have his number, but that was how you were choosing to describe it. If you didn't have the discipline that you had, you would be telling everyone about this. But you weren't stupid, so you kept it all to yourself.

You and Steve often talked late into the night, or at random times during the day. Towards nighttime, your conversations often became a bit deeper, the kind of conversation that would've scared Steve off a while ago. But he was becoming more comfortable with you, and you could tell. You were moving slowly so as to be careful, but you didn't feel like you had to. You just figured it would be wise. But these deep conversations touched on the topics that you hadn't been able to get into that time when Steve left so abruptly.

When the stars were peering into your bedroom window late at night, that was when you opened up about your past love life. He listened to you talk about your ex, give all the details about it, and he listened to you talk about how much healing it took you to get out of the nasty habits that had developed all through your life, but especially when you were with your ex. How you learned to be more independent, how you learned not that you couldn't trust, but that you had to be mindful about your relationships. You had always been driven, but especially after that mess of a situation.

Your whole life you'd been surrounded by this sense of needing more in some way. Your parents were loving, but they didn't always show it - they supported you mostly, but there was no way you could really show them who you were, not entirely. There was always this air of dismissiveness that came from them, and you had never been close to either of them, not the way other kids were.

So you knew what it was like to be grasping for something, anything. You just wanted love in its unconditional form, you wanted a life that wasn't hindered by those around you.

Sometimes this made your life even harder, because you found yourself doing things for people who didn't deserve it, hoping that they might see how much you were willing to do for them and maybe even reciprocate. But these days, your want, your human need for love and emotional support just pushed you further, blocked out the people who you didn't really need, and attracted you to the lifestyle that you deserved. And you turned out alright, but it took a lot to keep going. You buried yourself in work which you genuinely enjoyed. You tried new things, you moved out on your own, you created your own sturdy relationships. You knew how to make a pathway out of a rocky road. You were just glad that you felt like you were gliding through your life nowadays, and that the ship was sailing smoothly.

Steve was one of the people who you felt like the universe had somehow brought to you for a positive reason. A strange and random decision, but positive, nonetheless. You thought of how odd the circumstance was and you figured, it must have been destined. You were glad to be having these kinds of conversations with him.

And you were also glad that you had the beach. California wasn't California without its lustrous, beautiful, palm tree filled beaches. You were on your way to one with a few friends right now, on a weekend with no classes, celebrating after an intense study week, preparing for finals. The radio was blaring, the windows turned down, the warm and salty sea breeze blowing in through the open windows.

Around you was sort of this happy blur. You absorbed it, being jostled around by your friends dancing beside you, Aaliyah right by your side. You were laughing and smiling, a bottle of Capriccio's Sangria to your lips, babbling along to the song on the radio.

"Y'all are way too hype right now," your friend Violet joked from the front passenger seat, sat next to her boyfriend Luke, who was the designated driver.

She was met with a chorus of voices singing along to the radio song, and just rolled her eyes playfully, laughing. It felt good to finally be celebrating, especially since you'd been very focused on school for the past week. The beach was one of your favorite places to be - you felt so much at home. You grew up surfing all through middle school and high school, and this area was quite popular for surfboarding, so you were giddy at the thought of that. The beach felt like home to you, a California native.

Sure, it wasn't all sunshine and ocean waves, but you were pretty much the epitome of a California girl, and proud. So for you, it was a lot of sunshine and ocean waves. You felt a strong connection to this place, but you were always willing to explore. It was why you were so attached to traveling and hiking.

"YN, you look literally so pretty today," your friend Cameron complimented you as you held up your phone, taking a very impromptu selfie.

Your closed, glossy lips were turned up in a smile, your cheeks full and eyes slightly glazed over from the combination of a shared joint and the liquor you'd been drinking on the way.

"Cam," you pouted, leaning over and kissing their cheek. "You're literally so pretty, everyday."

You cooed over each other while you pressed send on your selfie, sending it to Steve on Snapchat with no caption.

"Girl, who are you sending that to?" Aaliyah grinned devilishly, peeking over your shoulder as she caught your screen out of the corner of her eye.

Before she could see, you shut off the phone and narrowed your eyes at her playfully, poking your tongue out at her,

"Nobody!"

She smiled but didn't seem fully convinced, pointing at you,

"It better be me. I need a new lock screen."

"Oh, you flatter me," you teased, smiling and sitting back, laying your head on Aaliyah's shoulder and your legs across Cameron's lap, sitting in this blurry, noted happiness.

You weren't thinking, you were just living in the moment, enjoying the smell of the ocean waves as you drifted closer to the scorching shore, focusing on the light scratch of acrylic nails massaging your scalp, the touch of a friend's arm resting over your bare legs, clad in shorts with a bikini bottom underneath, and a discarded shirt tied around your waist as you lay in your bikini top. You didn't know how your mindless selfie would inspire a confession.

✺ ✺ ✺

"Finally, you dweebs chose a movie," Nat grunted as she sat down in between Steve and Sam, sprawling out and kicking her legs up on Sam's lap.

"Not sure when I became your body pillow," Sam made a face at Nat, but he made no effort to push her away, his comment only making Tony scoff,

"You're saying you wouldn't want that?"

"Don't be a perv, Tony," Wanda reprimanded him, and he made a face, feigning innocence,

"What? Is it so wrong to cuddle with a friend?"

"I'm not understanding," Vision commented.

"Can we just start the movie?" Bucky whined through his laughter.

Steve was entertained by the conversation, but he had other things on his mind. Well, really just you. Steve thought about you everyday. You came across his mind whether he meant for you to or not. Sometimes he saw something and thought of you, because he was learning something new about you everyday, ever since adding you on Snapchat. He learned these little things about you through your Snapchat stories, and you'd been texting each other every day since he got your number.

He also learned things about you that weren't so little, and whenever you shared those things about yourself, he made sure to pay attention. When you shared these things with Steve, he found himself being mindful of what he said and how he replied - mindful instead of careful or hesitant. He was learning to absorb your words and turn them over in his mind. He was making an effort to try and understand you in the things you said that exposed your little quirks, your core beliefs, your history.

He appreciated how open you were being with him, and he understood how he had a responsibility, being who he was, to keep you feeling secure enough to share these things, to constantly make it clear that he understood, or at the very least, that he was listening. He just wished he had more time to flesh it out, to talk these things out over the phone instead of over text, or even in person, something that he knew wouldn't be possible.

And even though he felt so much closer now that he had your number, he couldn't help the small tugging inside of him that told him he'd be wanting more- and he couldn't figure out what "more" would look like for the life of him. You were so beautiful, it was overwhelming, and you gave Steve constant reminders of your beauty in every text, every goodnight selfie, every story you shared. Everyday he was falling harder for your beauty, inside and out.

It was lighthearted still. It didn't feel serious because the idea didn't make him feel unsettled, it didn't make him recoil in fear. But it had the potential to be serious, without all the negative dread that usually came with realizations such as this. He was just flirting with the idea of forging this romantic connection with you, but this tugging in him was now asking him when? When would he tell you how he felt, when would it get to the point where he needed to tell you? For now, Steve was just living through it, letting himself be free and happy in the moment.

He was satisfied with what he had now, when it came to you. He'd already taken the next step by getting your number and finding out even more ways to communicate with you outside of the site. He didn't want to feel ungrateful for wanting even more, for even entertaining the idea of telling you how he was feeling, especially when it wasn't anything deadly serious yet.

He knew he liked you, the fact was clear as day. He knew the way he liked you had the potential to be romantic, otherwise he wouldn't be thinking about you this often, and he wouldn't be seeing you in such a beautiful light. He felt lighter on his feet any time you came into his mind, and in his mind, there was a golden aura around you, around everything you did.

The fact that he saw you in this way made him think hard. Would he feel even more than he was feeling? Would it become enough that he would have to tell you? And he wondered, if, and only if, he did announce it - when would that point come? He was in a daze, leaning back on the couch, his phone in his hand while he waited for the movie to start up.

"What are we watching, again?" Nat called out, cupping her hands over her mouth.

"Star Wars: A New Hope," Tony smirked, satisfied with the movie choice.

"Is that the one with the dog monster?" Rhodey made a face, shaking his head slowly. "Not a huge fan."

"Pretty sure his name is Chewbacca," Bucky corrected Rhodey, and Sam cackled, clapping in satisfaction.

"The senile knows more about one of the most iconic movie franchises than you," he teased. "How does that work?"

Steve just shook his head and smiled, turning his head to Bucky who was talking to him,

"You ever seen Star Wars?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure Sam recommended it," Steve smiled lazily.

He hadn't quite updated Bucky on his status with you, but they had talked about it briefly since the time Bucky had given Steve the advice that helped push him to talk to you again. Steve was purposefully very vague during the talk with his best friend, but he made it clear that things were patched up. Bucky probably could've figured it out before anyone else, could've made the connection between Steve and Moonrose first, because Steve had given him the most information about it.

"It's pretty good, I've seen the prequels - that guy Darth Vader, he was actually pretty hot before he turned. You'll see, we should watch all the movies together," Bucky explained simply and carefully, as if it were common knowledge to him.

Steve was laughing, shaking his head.

"Sure pal," he was beginning to say, before he diverted his attention to his phone as a notification lit up his screen. It read: Snapchat: YN. His eyes lit up, and he tried to hide his excited reaction as he opened the picture from you. And when he did, he wasn't ready for what he was seeing.

You sent Steve a lot of pictures, and he thought you were gorgeous in all of them, even the ones with the filters that made your face look all distorted. But something was different about this picture, the vibes it gave off. He felt the same way he felt when he would watch your shows - like he was there with you, because he could feel your happiness emanating through the screen.

He felt like if he looked at it long enough, he might be there with you. And everything about this picture was glowing, especially you - it screamed young, college girl having the time of her life, and that made him feel so happy for you.

And it also stirred a feeling in him, something that hadn't been awoken for a long time.

Upon viewing the image, he immediately cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably because of the growing tent in his pants, trying to hide his phone screen so no one would look.

The picture was so simple. You were in a car, sun shining through the windows, the light hitting you just right, and you were smiling. But Steve was hyperfocused on the way you had obviously been basking in the sun, the glow clear on your face. Your skin was dewy and fresh, and your lips were sheen in a pink gloss that only called more attention to them. Your hair seemed wild around your shoulders, but it only made you look more appealing, more free spirited.

And again, you'd sent him so many pictures like this, but for some reason, this photo in particular was somehow arousing everything in him. You were so beautiful it hurt- he felt a pang in his chest, and the sudden growth in his pants didn't assist with the pain.

Your eyes, though vibrant and youthful, were glazed over, and all Steve could think of was how they looked when you blinked away tears after an intense orgasm. He thought about your soft, luscious lips against him, but this time he was thinking about what it might be like to kiss your lips, tainted with red.

And to add insult to injury, you were wearing a tight bikini top, and the picture cut off just where your breasts started to show, peeking out through the white fabric, the thin white strings against your sun kissed shoulders holding them up - just barely. He felt so fucking stupid. Like he shouldn't be feeling so much because of a simple image. But whatever was happening, this picture was stirring up something inside of him that he couldn't ignore. This had to be taken care of.

He sat up immediately, trying to use his shirt to cover his boner, feeling juvenile and lightheaded, even a little giggly.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, glaring up at Steve in concern - he'd been talking, but Steve seemed distracted suddenly.

"Mhm," was all Steve could strain out from his throat.

"What the hell, Steve? I'm about to show you one of my very favorite films and this is the reception I receive?" Tony barked, offended.

"I've been telling you, that superserum is wearing off," Sam joked, something him and Tony loved to say when Steve acted out of character - like the times when Steve got caught smiling for no reason - or just whenever Steve annoyed Tony.

"I- just- I'll be right back," Steve stammered, flustered, then he carefully walked out of the theater room and out of sight.

It had been over a month since Steve had left and came back to you. In that period of time, he had been gloomy, neutral, then back to being light on his feet again, one after the other. And he hadn't viewed any of your content since then. A few times he tried to get himself off, but it was worth nothing. He could barely guide himself, and he didn't want anybody else to assist him the way you had, it was one of the things that made you so special.

So his attempts to satiate his pleasure came in the form of witless, rough jerks that didn't even get him anywhere near that point. And each time, he was back to thinking about you, but the thoughts could only get him so far.

But now that you were friends again, Steve didn't let himself think of you in that way. Or, he tried not to. But this picture, for some reason, just reversed everything he was trying to avoid. He tried to understand his reaction in the short amount of time that he quickly walked to his room, trying and failing to ignore the stone hard bulge hanging in his loose grey joggers.

Thinking, as straight as he could, he figured that his senses were overrun from thinking of how much he might like you and then having to see such a vivacious picture from you. It felt like a sign that it was time to finally fulfill the pleasure he'd been putting off. It was too much for him to handle- your beauty, the domesticity of the happy picture, in combination with his doting thoughts of you. And maybe he'd already been a little distracted to begin with, needing some form of release. It had been a very long time since he'd allowed that for himself.

"Calm down, Steve," he muttered to himself, forcing a smile at Pepper, who was walking past him.

He finally got to his room and closed the door behind him, falling back onto his bed immediately. As he fiddled with the drawstrings on his sweatpants, he brought his phone up to make sure the image of you was still there. When he saw it still there on his screen, he sighed in dismay, thinking of what he was doing.

He was almost embarrassed that you brought him to that point without even trying, arching his back off the bed to remove his sweats fully. He brushed it off and breathed out, eyes honing in on the image as he began to palm himself over his boxers. He groaned, feeling a sense of sweet relief already, just from his hands gently palming himself.

He briefly thought back to the times when he had tried to get off by himself, tugging to no avail. This wouldn't be like those times. This would be gentle, and he already knew, by the burning feeling in his stomach, that it would bring him pleasure. He dipped his hand inside of his boxers, carefully guiding himself out. His hard length fell hard against his stomach and he grunted from his throat, his jaw ticking as he took himself in his hand and began to stroke slowly, breathing heavily through his nose like a routine.

He was looking at the picture of you, but his mind began to wander to other things- flashbacks of you helping him get to that point through the screen, a sensation neither of you had experienced in quite a long time.

"Fuck," he practically whimpered, the words spilling out of his throat so uncontrollably as he choked them out.

He was missing those times dearly. As much as he was able to view you as a friend, nothing would compare to the way you made him feel. He didn't have you here to guide him at the moment, and for good reason - he didn't want you to, not now. You were trying to be friends for the time being, retain some sense of normalcy.

But, if you were there to guide him, he wouldn't complain. And even in this moment which was so unholy, he felt delicate, the light of the spring sunshine streaming through the window blinds and curtains, splayed across his room, painting the light blue walls with a sheen of pale yellow.

At some point, he really wasn't even looking at the photo anymore, just focusing on the sensations and the visions of you that his mind made up. His eyes were closed, head to the side, his arm against his forehead. In his ears he heard your voice gasping out his name while you came, in his mind he pictured your slick pooling out of you as you finally removed your fingers, breathing heavily from an orgasm. Sure, you had been performing for him, but that didn't mean it wasn't truth. The sounds and images he imagined made him stroke himself quicker, pumping harder and faster than the slow, delicate strokes he'd started with. He tried to calm himself down, but the pleasure was unbeatable. He switched from those fast tempo strokes to the gentle strokes that felt so tantalizing. Your voice was fresh in his mind - but it wasn't all devilish. It came in your laughter, the sound of your voice as you sang along to a song on the radio and posted it on your story. Then it came with deep bass, the sound of you urging him to come, pleading him to come with you.

The image of your eyes was prominent in his mind, coming in waves. Sometimes they came in strong, fierce tides as he pictured your eyes, staring into the computer screen while you wrapped your lips around a toy that you used to substitute for him, because he couldn't be there, but it felt so much like he was. Then sometimes they came in undulating, passionate waves as he pictured the crinkles that formed around your eyes when you smiled, the way you batted your lashes on screen.

It was strange to have such fluctuating thoughts of you, ranging from filthy to innocent. Usually the thoughts when he was getting off were just filthy. This was new, and it seemed to pleasure him even more just to think of your smile, your innocent eyes. What was going on? He couldn't quite figure it out, nor did he care to in the moment. The thought of you, Moonrose, YN, and he came undone.

He came groaning and panting heavily, weeks of unmet release painting his stomach and legs. His chest trembled as he took one last breath, took his hand off his eyes, and peeked out the window blinds at the dazzling, bright city just outside. He cleaned up silently, not thinking much because his mind was too excited to let him think.

And there were so many questions that lay unanswered: "why was he able to get himself to that point just by the thought of you?" "why had the thoughts been so strangely innocent and new?" And most of all, why did he even feel this way because of you?

Then once he was all cleaned up, changing boxers in the bathroom, he took a good look at himself in the mirror, and the clarity hit. Firstly, he realized of course, he had to tell you. It wasn't like Steve to behave this way so suddenly and he felt like it was something he had to tell you. He hoped he wasn't being disrespectful, hoped what he had done wasn't weird. But he didn't let himself worry about that too much.

But not only did he have to tell you what he'd done, he realized he had to tell you how he felt. He had been wondering if it would get to the point that he would feel strongly enough about you that he had to tell you, and this incident seemed to be proof enough.

All his sudden arousal, while valid and likely rooted in a need to get himself off, just meant one thing. He wasn't just frustrated sexually. His senses were running amok because he knew he liked you, and yet he wasn't expressing that fully. And maybe this release was what he needed to realize that. The feelings were only getting stronger and stronger with no real output. They made him happy, nearly giddy with excitement, but with nowhere to store it. He could have a crush and keep it that way, but Steve liked to find solutions. If he wasn't serious about you, maybe he'd keep it that way, with no outputs and no solutions.

He was keeping something to himself, and it wasn't fair to him, nor was it fair to you. He felt so unhinged now because he wasn't realizing that yes, there would be a point when he had to tell you how he he felt. All of that frustration was built up tension physically and emotionally, just boiling inside of him.

All of the excitement, confusion, and intrigue he felt towards the prospect of maybe liking you romantically, of taking that step to a real relationship, had boiled over. He wasn't realizing that he had to tell you sooner than later. This was more than just a release. It was more like an epiphany.

And while the realization may have been sudden, he had done his thinking long and hard, even before he started talking to you like this. He could wait and milk over it for a little while longer, or he could tell you, and soon. But even though he knew he had to tell you, he had to choose the right moment. At least now he knew he had to tell you at all, instead of spending too much time wondering whether he even should, wondering if what he was feeling was real.

Maybe it would be different if he got off to you and it was purely sexual. But this was more than that. He was genuinely overwhelmed by your beauty, inside and out. The thought of that was what brought him to orgasm. All those lighthearted, innocent thoughts of you made Steve feel so strongly, in both a physical and emotional sense.

It was why he'd had an emotional response to the picture first, then a physical response. He thought of all the times he'd looked at pictures you sent with a smile, and felt genuine happiness bubbling up inside of him. No one else did that to him.

If what had just happened said anything, it said that his feelings for you were real, they weren't just born out of naivety or because of the fact that Steve had never felt something like this before. It wasn't just about the sexual gratification or the physical, it was about why he felt so strongly towards you at all. If he could stir up these kinds of emotions, this kind of confusion, just by thinking about you, just by looking at you? He'd be surprised if it was all for naught.

✺ ✺ ✺

You were surprised when Steve asked to FaceTime you that weekend. You were clueless about the events and feelings that had spiraled for Steve since you sent that picture, and thus curious to see what he was going to talk to you about. It had been a little over two weeks since you'd started talking to Steve ever since he showed you who he was, and you were so comfortable with each other already.

Steve gave himself some time before he decided it was time to tell you. He knew he had to, but he was giving himself time to think it out, to decide whether or not this was really of the importance that he was holding it to, to decide, and really decide, if it would just be getting in the way of a good thing. But after much contemplation, he knew it wasn't a waste, especially because he didn't feel sick when he thought about it - aside from the butterflies.

You on the other hand, were clueless. But you were excited. He was so formal and so busy that he scheduled a call. He also kept your schedule in mind. You had just finished finals and you were about to close up with school, a fact which you kept forgetting and surprising yourself with when you remembered. So, mindful of that and mindful of his own schedule, Steve made sure the time would be good for the both of you.

And when the time came, you were excited. You hadn't heard Steve's voice conversationally in a long time, because texts and Snapchat weren't really built for that. And whatever it was he wanted to talk about, you were excited to hear, and you were glad that he was the one initiating these things all the time.

It made you feel like he really put effort into the friendship you were building, curating slowly like a sacred collection in a language only the two of you knew. You felt so close to him in such a short amount of time, but it made sense because you had known him for a long time - but you were only just now getting to know him.

You got all cute for the call, because why wouldn't you? You were attracted to Steve and you couldn't lie and say that you didn't feel all girly at the thought of getting even closer to him, being more than friends. Like a little crush was budding, but it was playful and innocent. You felt like he was such a good example of the perfect man, and you were so glad to call yourself your friend. In Steve's eyes, it wouldn't take much effort for you to look pretty anyway, but you got all dolled up because you wanted to.

You were wearing a simple white dress that you made, and you put on just a pinch of makeup. You were sitting on top of your kitchen counter by the window, sunlight and a nice breeze trickling through your apartment when the call came in. It felt surreal to see his name on the screen each time, no matter how used to him you became.

"Steve!" you exclaimed as soon as you picked up the call.

Finally you could see him face to face through the screen again. It reminded you of your times together on Girls on Film, but the circumstances were much, much different.

Steve, once again, was struck with your beauty, and he felt his knees go weak just at the sound of your voice. This was no mistake.

"Hey," he grinned, genuinely from ear to ear.

You both wanted to bask in the moment, talking to each other live, after quite some time. Steve wasn't showing it now, but he was nervous. Again that just told him he was making the right decision in telling you this. He was getting worked up over what to say to you, and you seemed so calm and control. Unbeknownst to him, you were also a little jittery, all for good reasons. It was just so exciting and nerve wracking to truly see him and hear his voice again, to truly talk to him.

"You look so beautiful," he complimented you, his voice going a bit deeper, his eyes glistening as he took you in. You were basking in the sun, the sun's rays seemed to want to be around you, you drew them towards you.

You blushed and smiled,

"Thank you! You look really nice too."

You giggled, becoming bashful as he smiled gently, and he continued,

��"How have you been? Finals over yet?"

"Yeah, I just finished. It's weird, there's really not much else to do. We have one more week of classes to kind of just wrap everything up, but it's pretty much done," saying it out loud made you think of it again, gave you that weird feeling that everything really was about to be over. You would graduate in a few weeks, and start your life.

It was crazy, four years had gone by so fast, but they had been so lovely. Your college experience was the most formative part of your life. You'd moved on from your life at home, gotten out of an abusive relationship, met your closest friends and gotten even closer to your best friend, started a brand, got your own apartment. started camming. You had really found your life. And you found Steve. It was crazy to think of, that in just a few weeks, that experience would be over with.

"You okay?" Steve chuckled, because he noticed the deep sigh that you let out as you thought about it all. You were of course glad to move on with your life, but it made you think.

You laughed too, shaking your head,

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't be. What's on your mind?" he asked, leaning into the camera, making you feel like he was there with you.

You grinned, glad that you could talk about this in such a way, without feeling the need to break down or be upset. You were simply moving on to the next stage in your life, and you couldn't be more excited.

"I guess I'm just thinking of how crazy it is that I'm finally going to be finished with college. Like, I'm not going to any more school after this. When you've been in school your whole life, it's..."

"I get it. It's like coming to something you're not used to, but it's just normalcy."

"Yeah," you shrugged. "You know that better than anyone else, I bet."

Steve laughed - it was true. He had to get used to things that everyone else found normal. He felt so out of place. These days he was getting used to it all, but certain things still surprised him or made him think he didn't completely fit in. It was part of the reason he hadn't given in to what he wanted with you, not completely, at least.

Because if he didn't fit in to the world around him, he figured he wasn't ready for a relationship. But maybe that was just what he needed to fit in better, to get along better. It wasn't fair to him to resist something he truly wanted because he felt like he didn't fit in. It was silly.

"It comes and goes. But hey, I'm glad we're talking."

"Yeah, me too," you smiled, and you bit down gently on your lip, furrowing your brows together out of curiosity. "Hey, you said you wanted to talk about something?"

You watched as Steve seemed to brace himself, but you couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of thoughts swarming his mind right now. He was nervous for good reason. He had never expressed romantic feelings for someone before, which was also a reason that he took so long to give in, took so long to realize it was time to express those feelings. He felt innocent and small, almost timid. He had spent so long formulating his thoughts and what he would tell you, exactly how he would announce these feelings for you.

"Yeah, I uh..." Steve folded his hands and just let himself try to focus and calm himself down. It worked, and he relaxed, enough to actually speak at least. "Listen, I've been thinking about this since we started talking. I think maybe I've always known it, but I'm only just realizing I should tell you about it."

"Yeah?" you prodded him, getting a little nervous yourself, only because the last time Steve got into a speech like this, you found out that he was Captain America. You wondered what else he could possibly have up his sleeve.

"Well, I should tell you that I've always resisted when it comes to you... to this. And I want you to know why. I think I just haven't felt this way for someone in a very long time, and it's never been like this. And I was afraid because we didn't know each other and being the person that I am, I just felt like I wasn't allowed to feel the way I was feeling. Like I shouldn't, like it might be dangerous or like I couldn't trust you fully. It's why I left. It's why I took so long to realize this."

Your cheeks were heating up the more he spoke, your mind buzzing with ideas. You wondered exactly what he was getting to, but for some reason the butterflies in your stomach grew stronger. You started to stammer, wanting him to get to the point,

"Steve, I-"

"I'm getting there, just..." he took in a deep breath. It was time to finally say it. He was trying to explain himself, but started stumbling on his words. "It's um... it's hard for me to say things like this. I-I guess I never really have. I just- I... I... sorry, I'm—"

Steve pinched his eyes with his fingers, shaking his head. It was endearing how it was hard for him to spit the words out- Captain America, stumbling over his words while he spoke to you.

"Take your time," you giggled a bit, and the calm of your voice brought Steve back down to earth.

"Gee, I guess I'm not that great with words. What I'm trying to say is — I like you. And I don't just like you, I mean, I have feelings for you. And I know we're trying to be friends and I'm happy with that, being your friend has been an honor to me. We've created a connection that is completely new to me— I've never known somebody the way I know you. But, I think... I think there's more there. I think that we both know that there could be more there. I don't know what that looks like, or if telling you will really change anything, considering our situation. But I see you as more than a friend. And it's about time I told you."

Steve looked up, catching your reaction just in time. And to his relief, he felt confident in his confession. He didn't regret it, there was no reason to hide away, to cloak himself in fear. Yeah. It was about time he told you.

#steve rogers #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers series #girls on film #orbitariums #smut #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel series #marvel #marvel smut #marvel imagine #captain america series

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crispy-ghee · 4 years

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Forgive my absolute novice question, but those environment studies are BEAUTIFUL! I've never done them but I want to try, since it's good practice. What's your process, do you have any advice?

Thank you! No reason to apologize either. I can give a glimpse into my process, but fair warning it’s quite messy (I did this one quickly after work as an example) and I might not have the besssst explanations for everything.

Everything under the cut!

I do these off of photos I find on google images, since i’m not using them for profit or anything like that. I kind of decide what i wanna try and study (tropical scenes, forests, mountains, whatever) and then just look for an image that strikes me.

Something to note when you’re going into this is to have some idea of what you want to try and focus on. If there’s a specific thing you want to work on or capture when you do this. For me, it was trying to get better at seeing and picking colors, plus maybe fiddling w/ how mountains and rocks work haha

Having a specific goal makes doing studies easier because you don’t feel like you have to focus on basically everything when you’re painting. When the end goal is just ‘get better,’ that’s a lot of stuff you have to try and get right or pay attention to! Doing things one at a time is good.

So anything like...Wanting to understand color, wanting to understand shadows, wanting to understand light, wanting to know how trees work, or even something like ‘i saw this photo and i like how the light hits this one particular spot and i wanna capture how that spot feels’--just give yourself something to focus on!

Anyhoo, I picked this one. wanted to try a desert scene. My focus, again, is trying to understand color a lil better (kinda gave myself a rule, which was ‘no colorpicking’)

I work on a really tiny canvas btw like... 3 inches by 2 inches, and with a kinda fat chalk brush with pressure opacity on. This makes sure i can’t get fiddly on it.

Usually start with a really basic composition sketch that is definitely gonna be inaccurate, but that’s okay since that’s not what i’m doing this for lol

a lil more ‘detail’ pulling out the forms of biggest interest. sometimes this includes the a shape of a large shadow, like at the bottom! just the big important sections of the composition that you see.

I start laying in the colors really messily, again going for BIG at first. Right now the focus is establishing those big spaces in the composition. Right now this also includes some of the stronger shadows, since those are important to the form of things. The colors I choose to lay down vary, but usually go for the sort of ‘mid tone’ that i can suss out, maybe a a bright hilight, and then a deep shadow.

lol okay this is definitely a jump forward. But you can see i focused on the mountains. I ended up painting over that tree because it wasn’t in the right place anyway.

Anyway, TIPS on how I approached this:

TRY NOT TO GIVE A SHIT OVER WHETHER SOMETHING IS SUPER ACCURATE. Just make sure that it reads!

Focused first on laying in the darkest shadows, bc those really inform a lot about the shape of the thing.

A lot of squinting and stepping back, and also making the reference picture zoomed out small. This really makes the small detail disappear and helps keep you from getting caught up and confused by it. Sometimes you can eliminate certain details, or combine them with nearby details.

I added some new colors here and there, but nothing too strong. I avoided introducing too many different colors though, and most of what i had was a result of mixing the colors I already. If you add a very different color, that creates an area of high contrast. Which can be great, if that’s the focus and you want to hilight the area, tho!

Tried not to draw outlines. In fact, I made sure most of my strokes were downwards or sideways to make sure that I had to focus on things as blocks of color.

How do you do manage the shape w/out outlines? One thing to remember! You perceive form through contrast! Basically, in an area, how does the shadow butt up against the light? Look for those edges/places where they meet, and then think about how different those areas look to each other. Are the colors really different from each other? Are they similar? Is the edge hard, or is it more gradual? Look for those places where things meet!

Keeping in mind that color is relative. When you’re trying to figure out what color something is, peer at the color itself and try to isolate it. For instance a color may seem grey to you, but maybe it’s blue, and it looks much more desaturated bc you have it up against a really warm, bright color. Maybe what you think is a green is actually a red or a brown. SOME TIPS:

If you’re not focused on color as your study, feel free to colorpick off the photo! You’ll see the difference between what you perceived and what the true color was, and you’ll learn from that!

I’ve gotten good enough to be able to peer at colors and separate them in my brain from the rest of the picture. If you can’t do that, then you can mask it out physically in photoshop so that it’s literally isolated! You’ll get way better at picking up on color differences this way, and then can work towards doing it without having to physically mask things.

Questions to ask yourself when trying to figure out a color: Does it feel warmer or cooler? What hue is it (does it look purple or purple or red to you)? How saturated does it look?

Shadows usually gradiate. Shadows are made bc they block out light. So they’re darker when it’s harder for light to get into a space. So the further away from an edge or a crease, the lighter the shadow becomes.

Be wary about your colors getting too muddy, bc that happens when you’re mixing colors. Step back now and again, and if they look like they’re getting too grey or brown, feel free to paint some saturated color back into it.

Anyway, I added the trees (spent less time on them bc they’re unimportant to me lol) and cleaned up a couple other things...

And the last step is just creating a clean border around the painting to make it look clean!

And there’s my study.

ALSO

Also

the most most most important step

is to close the fucking Reference you were working off of and not look at it after that, because you’re gonna like what you did way better as its own thing when you’re not comparing it to the real deal lol

Anyway...I think that’s all i have to say? Idk. If something’s not clear, feel free to ask, but that’s what I got. This painting was pretty rushed so it’s not the *best* representation of everything, but hopefully it got most of the point across.

#tutorial #study #digital painting #digital painting tutorial #landscape #art #sketch #ask #toart

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ordinaryschmuck · 4 years

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What I Thought About that ONE SCENE from “Covention

As promised after my "Young Blood, Old Souls" review, I am going to review the rest of The Owl House episodes that I missed. And now that they're all on Disney+ (WATCH ‘EM), I'm currently making an effort to rewatch every episode to gather my thoughts for each one. Unfortunately, they're going to be my general thoughts and won't include any in-depth analysis.

However, the episode "Covention" has such a great scene that I have to break down what makes it so incredible. I'm, of course talking, about the “Hallway scene,” which is a definitive moment in Luz and Amity's relationship. And here's how:

(By the way, you’re gonna want this scene on standby while you read this. Because I have no idea how to get pictures from the episode and add them to a Tumblr post. And I’m too lazy to figure out how.)

Luz runs off to find Amity: Keep in mind that Luz had no reason to do so. Amity treated our favorite weirdo like garbage, and Luz had every right to just let Amity sulk. And yet, she still goes off to check on her. Why? Because it's in Luz's DNA to help others when they're clearly in distress. That willingness to be a kind-hearted person is why Luz is one of my favorite characters. She has moments of drawing the line when someone takes it a step too far, but her heart is always in the right place when the time calls for it.

Where Luz finds Amity: It's odd how fans refer to this scene as "the Hallway Scene" because Amity isn't really in a hallway. It's more of a dark corner if anything else. However, the exact name of her location doesn't matter because it's how that location is shown that makes an impact, due to how it perfectly illustrates who Amity is and how vital Luz is to her. Here, we see Amity down and depressed while sitting alone in the dark, where Luz is watching while in the light. This very idea comes more poignant soon, but there are a few things I want to mention first.

Amity’s tone when Luz apologises: Let's give a round of applause to Mae Whitman, who did a great job at this moment. She perfectly captures someone who is trying hard to be angry but is too distraught that she can't completely hide her real emotions. You see it better when Amity snaps at Luz, and her expression briefly changes into something more sad than mad. It's a sign that she's capable of thinking against her "can't show weakness" mindset that her parents clearly drilled into. So kudos to everyone in charge of that.

“You made me look like a fool in front of the Emperor’s Coven. My future!”: Notice how she says, "My future." Not "My dream" nor "My desire," either of which would make it clear that it's something Amity wants. Instead, she says, "My future." Hinting that perhaps joining the coven isn't entirely what Amity wants. I'm sure that she's somewhat excited to do so (You don't make an adorable squee at the idea of joining something if you're not into it), but the way Amity says "My future" gives the impression that it's more of a requirement for her. That if she fails to do this one thing, then she will face a worse punishment than the tedious task of finding a new career path. And it’s the fear you see in her eyes that all but confirms this.

“I have been working my whole life to get to the top!”: This shows so much of Amity than fans could have ever realized. First off, it reveals that Amity is more than just some snooty rich girl who tries to be better than everyone else to boost her own ego, like many other characters (Looking at you Boscha). Instead, we see Amity's reason to be the best is so that she can work hard at getting "her future." It also hints that she ever takes a break to be a normal kid, given the "my whole life" aspect of this line. This pretty much gets confirmed in later episodes, and it really shows how genius the show's writing is in the way it can be subtle and blatant at the same time.

“Say it! Say you’re not a witch!”/”...I’m not a witch…”: This is Luz's arc for the episode, coming to a complete end. At the start, Luz fought back Amity's resentment with even more hostility. But after seeing how upset Amity is and exactly why she's upset, Luz decides to give in. You can tell it pains Luz to admit Amity's right, both from her tone and expression, but it's apparent that it is something that she needs to say. However, Luz doesn't call it a day after admitting what Amity demanded to hear…

Luz performs her light spell: Instead, Luz meets Amity halfway by explaining her own situation in a peaceful manner. And this is what I meant when I said that Luz is vital to Amity. It's no coincidence that Luz's first spell is a light spell. She brings light figuratively, and literally in this case, to everyone she cares about. Look at Amity's face when she stares at the light spell. She's clearly amazed, and for a brief moment, we see more than that bully that she acted as in the beginning.

“That’s nothing. A child could do a light spell.”: But the sad thing about brief moments is that they don't last forever, as it doesn't take long for her "show no weakness" mentality to come back. This is shown through the fact that Amity physically, literally, retreats back into the darkness and passes Luz's accomplishment off as nothing special.

“But...I’ve never seen it cast like that.”: And yet, Luz broke through anyway. Because now, not only is Amity curious, but she's interested enough to rebel against that toxic mentality for quite possibly the first time. It's here that we get a glimpse of the person Amity could be. The person she wants to be.

“It doesn't come naturally to me like it does for you, so I've had to improvise.”: And it's here where Luz once again sees a chance to get Amity to open up. A chance for Luz to find common ground and explain that while Amity thinks that Luz has it "so easy," the reality is that the opposite is true. That she also has to work hard, but she doesn't have a fear of failing when her efforts don't work out.

Amity unbinds the Everlasting Oath: I love this. Not only because Luz didn't have to ask Amity to do this, but also because Amity doesn't give a reason for doing so. Did she consider the duel a draw because they both cheated? Or did she finally see the person Luz really is and decided to do the right thing? There's no clear answer, and that's why I love it. Because even if it's the ladder, Amity can easily use the former as an excuse for why she showed weakness. And if it turns out that Amity did decide the duel is a draw, then it still works because it makes sense for her character at this point in the story.

“Humans have no magical ability. But I doubt that’ll stop you.”: Do me a favor: Read that quote. Don't just read it in Amity's voice, or read it as how it was said. Read this quote as exactly how you would say it if you haven't seen it before.

...

Did you do it? Because it looks like a compliment, doesn't it? Almost as if Amity is telling Luz that she does have the capability to become a witch. Despite her setbacks. Well, that's what this could be if not for Amity's tone. For it suggests that she's indifferent to Luz's success. But because Luz still broke through to the nice side of Amity that she wants to show to the world, Amity finds a way to try to be kind while giving the appearance that she's following her parent's mentality.

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So, yeah. This scene is f**king amazing. Through the span of a minute, here's what we get: So much development from Amity, why Luz is such a kind and supportive character, and the beginnings of their complicated relationship. This might just be the best, well-handled scene in the entire series, and it doesn't have elements of what makes recomend the show. There is no fantastic animation, there is no hilarious comedy, and there is no LGBTQ+ representation...Ok, there might be that, but you have to squint to see it. This scene is just two characters talking, and through their conversation, we learn and love so much more about them.

...

And yet, people STILL wonder why Lumity is the most popular ship of the fandom. It's because of s**t like this, people. It's because of s**t. Like. This.

(But seriously, though. This is a great scene from a great episode!)

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #what i thought about #the owl house analysis

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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part Twenty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Mention of past abuse. Angst. Smut if you squint. And some nice fluff at the end.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Harry woke up around nine the next morning. You were spooning him, and he didn’t want to move. If he could stay like this forever, he would. But he knew you had to get up soon. You had to get back to your place for your family to come visit. He heard you snoring. You never snored before, or maybe he just never noticed. Suddenly, you clung to him tighter, pulling him closer to your chest. He heard you make a groaning sound, and tried not to laugh.

“Mm, Harry.” You said in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?

You let go of him and flipped onto your back. He turned over to look at you. Your eyebrows were pinched together and your mouth was parted. You groaned again, causing him to smirk.

You were having a wonderful dream. Harry’s head was between your legs, and he was just going to town on you, making you come over and over, not giving you a second to catch your breath. Just as he was about to make you come again, you felt yourself waking up.

Your eyes burst open and you were breathing heavily. You got startled by Harry looking at you.

“Sorry.” He started laughing. “What, uh, what were ya dreamin’ about?” You hide your hands in your face.

“Ugh, you.”

“And what was I doin’?” He took your hands away so he could look at you.

“Your head was between my legs.” You felt your face heating up.

“Ah, I see.” He moved the blanket out of the way and sat between your legs. “And is that somethin’ you’d like right now?”

“First thing in the morning? Isn’t that gross?”

“S’fine with me.” He shrugs. “Answer my question.”

“Y, yes I would like that.”

That was all he needed, he parted your legs and began to lick you up and down. He started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You lean up on your elbows.

“Nothing, you’re just super wet already. It’s cute. You had a little sex dream about me.”

“Harry, I will leave this bed.”

“Okay, okay.”

He dips his head back down and gets to work. Two orgasms later, and your whole body feels like jello.

“Shower?” He asks, wiping his face.

“Mhm.”

You jerk him off in the shower, letting him come on your chest. You felt like you were back in your normal routine.

“So, how are you feelin’?” He asks, diving into a bowl of oatmeal.

“About what babe?”

“Last night.”

“Oh!” You blush. “Well, I’m a little sore to be honest, but it’s alright. I was expecting it.”

“Was I too rough?”

“No, not at all. It felt incredible. Just a lot of, um, stretching.”

“Right.”

“Something we can definitely do again.” You kiss him on the cheek. “Is there anything, I could be doing for you?” You squeak. He smiles at you.

“Hmmm.” He tries to think of a sarcastic remark but decides against it. “I’m pretty content, actually. Love how deep ya take me down your throat.”

“Okay.” You wash out your bowl. “Just wanted to make sure, because you do so much for me.”

“I told you early on, I get pleasure from giving pleasure.” Your cheeks heat up. “I nearly come just about every time I go down on ya.” He kisses the top of your head. “We better get to your place.”

“Right.” You were flustered now. Even though you had been intimate only a couple hours ago, you wanted him again.

Around noon your mom and Nannie show up at your apartment.

“The place looks great, honey!” Your Nannie says hugging you.

“Thanks, see I put your paintings up over there.” You point to the paintings hanging in the living area.

“Harry, come here, come say hi to Nannie.” She says. Your Nannie had a funny habit of referring to herself in the third person. Harry chuckled, and gave her a hug and kiss. He greeted your mom as well.

“Are you kids hungry?” Your mom asks.

“Well, actually, I made that cauliflower you like. I thought we could just eat here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Your mom says.

As you prepare lunch, your mom and Nannie sit with Harry in the living area.

“How much longer are you in town for?” He asks Nannie.

“Only a few more days. It’s too cold for me here.”

“I can imagine. How long have you been in Florida for?”

“Oh god.” She looks to your mom. “Fifteen, sixteen years?”

“Sounds about right mum.”

“We started out as snow birds, only going for about six months. Then we stayed all the time except for summer. We actually had a summer home up in New Hampshire, in the Seabrook area.”

“Oh, I loved going there.” You say walking in with the food. “We would go to the beach for hours, it was so much fun. It was like going to camp, but better.”

“(y/n) got to spend the most time with us there. What grade were you in then?”

“You had the place from when I was in sixth through eighth grade I think.”

“That’s right, and then we started staying in Florida through the summer. We’d come up here to visit a couple weeks here and there. Traveling just got more difficult.” Nannie looks to the collage of pictures you have on the wall, and gets up to look at them. Harry just realized now he had never looked at them himself. “These are nice honey.” You get up to look at them with her.

You had pictures of you and your friends, and some of you with family. There was a picture of your and your grandparents in the center. You were just a little girl, couldn’t have been more than four.

“There’s his baby.” Nannie tears up a little bit, and so do you. “I miss him every day.”

“Me too, Nannie.” You put an arm over her shoulder. Harry really sees how this still affects you.

“Alright, we didn’t come here to be sad.” Your mom says. “Mum, come eat, please. (y/n) made a delicious lunch for us.”

You both come back over to sit down. Harry pats your leg to comfort you when you sit next to him.

“Harry’s invited me to England for Christmas.” They both look at you. Harry starts to feel nervous. “We’re booking our flights tonight.

“Oh, that’s great honey. How long will you be gone for?” Your mom asks.

“I’m not sure.” You look to Harry.

“Um, well, we’ll wanna leave a couple days before Christmas. We’ll be back before New Year’s.”

“You’ll still be around for the Hanukkah party right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Harry, you’ll come to Hanukkah won’t you? We go to my uncle’s house, Nannie’s brother, every year, it’s so much fun.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.” She looks at Nannie. “So, England, that’s great.”

“My mum and sister are there.”

“That’s right.” The room felt awkward for some reason. The food was gone. “Honey, come to the kitchen with me, I’ll help clean up.”

You follow your mother into the kitchen. She turned the sink on, and spoke to you quietly.

“That’s kind of a big trip to take with someone you’ve only known for three months. It’s more serious than a weekend away up north.”

“I know. But he asked me, and I wanted to go. He really wants me to meet his family.” You look over your shoulder to see your Nannie talking with Harry. “We love each other mom.” Your mother sighs at you. “What?”

“It just feels a little fast.”

“I promise you, we’re taking this slow still.”

“Honey, I’m not stupid. You two are practically living together.”

“We are not.”

“Then why are five pairs of his boots in your hall closet?”

“Because he leaves things here. I leave things at his place too. Then we don’t have to pack as much when we stay at each other’s places.”

“How many nights a week is he here?”

“The time is split pretty evenly.” She gives you a look. “I don’t know, a few? And I stay at his place on the weekends. We’re not together every second of the day.”

“No, your jobs get in the way of that.” She says sarcastically.

“Why can’t you be happy for me? I met an amazing guy.”

“I know, and I am happy for you. I happen to like him a lot.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I just don’t want you getting caught up in some fairy tale, that’s all.” She sighs. “Look, you’re a big girl, and at the end of the day, it’s not my life, it’s yours. I learned long ago I can’t tell you what to do anymore. I’m just giving my opinion. I’m still your mother, I have the right to ask you what you’re doing.”

“I never said you didn’t, I would just like you to trust my judgement a little.”

“Sorta hard to do that.” She says without looking at you.

“Don’t even go there.” You say lowly.

“I’m sorry honey, it’s just hard to wrap my ahead around it. You really didn’t see any red flags after four dates?”

“Obviously not!” Harry and Nannie look over at the two of you.

“Keep your voice down.”

“I will not keep my voice down. Don’t talk to me like that. You’re acting like I wanted that to happen to me.”

“I’m not acting like anything. Obviously you didn’t want that to happen. I just can’t believe that you let yourself get into a situation like that, and I would hope you would be more cautious.”

“We’ve been together three months! If he was going to assault me it would’ve happened by now!”

“What the hell is going on in here?” Nannie asks walking into the kitchen with Harry. He’s by your side instantly. Your mom turns the sink off.

“Nothing mum, we were just having a discussion.”

“It’s not nothing, look at how upset you’ve made her.” Your face was red, and you were biting your inner cheek so you wouldn’t cry. Harry had a hand on the small of your back to try to calm you. “What did you say to her, answer me.” You and your mother look at each other. “You two have been keeping a secret from me for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

“I don’t think now is the best time for this.” Harry says. You look up at him. He has just entered the belly of the beast.

“Harry, it’s okay.” You sigh. “Nannie, something really bad happened to me over a year and half ago, mom and literally everyone else in my life feel the need to constantly remind me of it.”

“Because you act like nothing happened!”

“I do not! I’ve just learned to cope. I go to therapy. Would you prefer I walked around like a schlub all day? Depressed and angry?”

“Of course I wouldn’t prefer it, but-“

“What happened?” Nannie asks again. “I can take it.”

“I don’t want to tell you. Everyone looks at me differently after I tell them, I don’t want that for you too.” You start crying and rush out to your room, closing the door behind you. You felt like a child in your own home.

“Well that’s just great.” Your mom says.

“How did it even come up?” Harry asks her.

“As her mother, I have the right to be concerned about who she spends her time with. I like you Harry, I do, but you two seem to be spending a lot more time together than I thought. I need to make sure she’s staying safe.”

“She’s very safe with me, I can assure you of that.”

“I simply mentioned that she didn’t have the best judgement of character.”

“You were blaming her?”

Nannie walks down the hall to your room. The two watch her, Harry goes to follow, but your mom grabs him.

“Let her go, she’ll talk with her.”

Nannie taps lightly on your door before entering. You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, with your baby blanket pressed to your stomach. She sits next to you.

“You still have these things?”

“I keep them in a box for when I need them. Think they still smell like your old house.” You give her a half smile.

“Now honey, you have always been able to talk with your Nannie. What can’t you tell me?” She gives your hand a squeeze.

“A year and a half ago I was r…assaulted, at my old apartment.” She cupped a hand over her mouth. “I had been seeing this guy for a few weeks, and well…we were starting to get intimate. I didn’t want to sleep with him, but he had other plans. I didn’t feel safe enough to say no, so I just let him do what he did to me. It was awful.” Tears roll down your cheeks. “I was not in a good state after. My friend Niall basically saved my life. He helped me tell mom about it. He helped me get into therapy. I stopped going for a while but I started up again when Harry and I got together. I thought I had moved on from everything, but we bumped into him one night. I had a lot more to work on than I thought. But, I really do feel better now. I never should’ve stopped going to therapy. And Harry…” You smile and wipe your face. “Harry is so wonderful. He treats me so nicely. We’ve been taking things really slow, in that department.” You gesture to your bed. “But I know on the outside it looks like we’re moving fast. We made things official three weeks in, and we said I love you about a month after that. We stay over at each other’s places all the time too. Now I’m going on this big trip with him.” Nannie takes you in her arms for a long hug, she wipes her eyes after letting you go.

“I am so sorry that happened, and I am so sorry you didn’t think you could talk to me about it. Sometimes your mother is a blithering idiot. She’s my kid, and I love her, but she had no reason to bring this all up today.” She sighs. “And what do you care what other people think of your relationship? Did you know your Papa and I went on one date and we never separated? I know we were older than you and Harry, but still. He had me moved into his apartment only after a couple months, maybe less. We lasted for thirty amazing years, would’ve been longer if he hadn’t gotten ill.”

“You two had the best relationship.”

“It was a good one for sure. What I’m trying to say is, plenty of people told me not do it. They loved him, but he was eighteen years older than me. But, I loved him and he loved me. I didn’t care what anyone had to say because I knew what was best for myself. I can understand your mother wanting you to be cautious, but I don’t think Niall would have set you up with someone who would hurt you.”

“That’s what I said.”

“So? No problem then. You go on your little vacation with your boyfriend. He’s so sweet. We were having a nice conversation before all the ruckus started.” She sighs again. “My precious girl.” She puts a hand to your cheek. “I don’t see you any differently. If anything, I see a strong young woman sitting next to me.”

“I love you Nannie.”

“I love you too my doll.” You hug again. “We better get out there, I think Harry had some words for your mother.”

“Oh Jesus.” You laugh and get up, putting your blankets back in your box under the bed.

You two walk out to see Harry and your mom watching TV, some cooking show. Harry gets up when he sees you’ve calmed down.

“Did she tell you?” Your mom asks.

“Yes.” She swats an arm at your mom. “This was not the time or place for you to jump down her throat, especially not in front of her boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I feel terrible.”

“It’s fine, we’re done with it, okay?”

“She has a good head on her shoulders. She’s your smartest child you know? You should trust her more.” You Nannie winks at you. “You should’ve trusted her immediately bringing this handsome young man home.”

“You should visit more often Nannie.” You say with a giggle.

“The next trip you to take on a plane better be to come see me, understand?”

“Yes.” You and Harry say in unison.

“Good. Alright, well I’m exhausted now, I think we should go.” You bite the inside of your cheek again. This happens every time you say goodbye for a while. You give her hug and kiss. “I love you so much, precious.”

“I love you too, have a safe flight.”

She gives Harry a hug and kiss. You give your mom a hug too, and she gives Harry a hug. You walk them to the door. You stand there after it’s closed, and you lose it. You can’t stifle the sound of your tears, and Harry comes rushing to you. You press your head into his chest. He wraps his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry your mother upset you like that.” You sniffle.

“That’s not why I’m crying.” You say trying to catch your breath. “I just, I already miss her. I love her so much, and she’s always so far away. And I always have to share my time with her. She’s everything to me. I have these like weird attachment issues with them, her. Her.” Your voice cracks and you cry harder.

He stays there holding you, letting you get out what you need to. He rubs your back and rests his chin on your head.

“Sorry, this must be so weird for you.” You peel yourself from him. He wipes your eyes for you.

“S’not weird, love.” He says in a calming voice. He walks you to the couch so you both can sit. “I think it’s sweet that you have such a special bond with her. And you clearly had a special bond with your grandfather.”

“They just always found a way to make things better. The nights where my parents were having the really bad fights, or when my dad would just go off on us, I used to prey they would just come let us live with them. Or that they were my parents.” You feel like you want to scream. You look over at the picture of your papa. “And he’s gone now!” You look back to Harry. “Do you know how much it kills me that you’ll never get to meet him? He would have loved you! Because I love you!” The tears are pouring out of you again, and Harry takes you back into his arms.

“Grief is a real beast.” You scoff.

“That’s an understatement.” You look over at the clock and roll your eyes. “Jesus, where did the day go? I have so much laundry to do.”

“Let me take care of it for you.”

“Harry, you are not doing my laundry for me.”

“Why not? You do mine all the time. And I’ve seen you do your own, I can handle it. You just sit tight, I’ll throw a load in. Then, I’m gonna make ya a cup of tea, yeah?”

“Alright.”

“Just try to take slow breathes to calm down a bit. She’s in the area til Tuesday, if you want tomorrow after work we can go to your mum’s house so you can have some more time with her.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Maybe I can preoccupy your mum so the two of you can go get dinner together.”

“You would do that for me?” Harry tilts your chin up.

“There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, love.” He kisses the top of your head, and goes down the hall to start your laundry.

Your Nannie was right, your mother was a blithering idiot. You hit the jackpot with Harry.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles y/n fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #i love their soft moments so much it's just so cozy

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pengychan · 4 years

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[Good Omens] Winging It - Jeremiah 17:9

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: No vintage pornography was mistreated in the making of this chapter.

(A scene was partly based on and amazing comic by @hyunlou, because I loved it so much I could no longer picture the scene going any other way,and also @lunaescribe on my birthday with art - check the fic tag to see both!)

***

“... Is that what they asked you? If you had carnal desires? Were those their exact words?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, and shifted a little when Łukasz let out a groan, rubbing his temples.

“Why do they speak like they came out of some shitty BBC period drama?” Fabrizio asked, only for Łukasz to entirely ignore him and look back at Gabriel.

“And you said no.”

“I said I don’t think I do-- I am not sure-- and then they left before I could suggest we go out for the evening, and I have no idea why. But they did take the mugs, so--”

“Jesus Christ, mate, they were making a pass at you!”

Gabriel blinked. “... They were making a what?”

Fabrizio cleared his throat before speaking in the fakest, poshest British accent imaginable. “I think what my esteemed colleague is trying to say is that this… what’s their name again?”

“Beel-- Bill.”

“Right. This Bill was trying to politely gauge whether or not you may, perchance, be entertaining the thought of shagging.”

“Shagging?” Gabriel repeated. He was familiar with the term, of course - working in warehouse near the docks had taught him a vast array of terms all generally referring to the same things - but he had no idea why Beelzebub would be asking if he entertained the thought of--

“Shagging them, specifically.”

Gabriel stared. He opened his mouth, gaped a little more, then blinked. “They-- were?” he asked, sounding every inch as bewildered as he felt. The notion was so alien to him, it was hard to wrap his mind around it… and yet, now that it had been clearly spelled out for him, Gabriel felt a sudden desire to reach back into the space-time continuum and smack himself in the back of the head. Unable to do that due to his current limitations as a mortal, he just blinked again. “But... why?”

Forehead firmly pressed on the table, Łukasz snickered. “That’s an excellent question,” he said. “I’m starting to suspect your friend is a rabid moronsexual.”

“A what?”

That caused Fabrizio to burst laughing so suddenly and violently that Gabriel was left with little doubt that he was supposed to feel insulted by the remark. However, he was too baffled to.

“That was never-- it never came up,” he protested.

“Hah! Well, it did now. They brought it up. So, are you?”

Gabriel opened his mouth.

“... Before you go ‘am I what’, allow me to make myself clear. Are you interested in the offer?”

Ah. “I’m… not certain it was an offer, I ought not assume--”

“Let’s say it was. Are you?”

Gabriel hesitated, and this time they didn’t press him for an answer. Which was good, because he honestly did not have one yet; there had been something when he’d held the Prince of Hell in his arms, something that had made him wish he didn’t have to put them down… but the notion of carnal desires was so foreign to him, he had no idea what that would even feel like.

In the end, he sighed. “... I’ll need to do research,” he finally said.

If Łukasz and Fabrizio found it an odd response, which they probably did, they said nothing of it.

“All right. But, my friend, let me tell you something. Whether you want to shag them or not, you’re so smitten it’s not even funny,” Fabrizio said. Gabriel didn’t even try to argue he was not.

Lying is, after all, a sin.

***

Indulging in carnal pleasures was, quite obviously, not the immediate ticket to the lowest circles of Hell that many mortals seemed to believe it was.

It was in some cases, of course, whenever someone forced their own lust on somebody who was anything but a willing participant; those souls had a circle of their own, which was rather cramped as well as boasting a frankly astounding amount of Catholic priests.

A good number of them may have been tempted by demons, though Beelzebub suspected it was a minority, but even in those cases all the forces of Hell had really done was put some rather non-specific lust in their heart; how they let it grow and then acted upon it was entirely their choice.

It was not a circle of Hell Beelzebub had ever had much to do with, as lust did not precisely fall under their expertise, and therefore they did not know the minute details of what was the exact line between simple carnal pleasure and sinful lust. However, they felt reasonably certain in the assumption that carnal relations with a Prince of Hell would, at the very least, be a prominent enough sin to tilt the balance of the scale towards Hell.

And I may be more successful in doing that than I was trying to convince him to push an old lady under the bus.

Just maybe. There were demons who made seduction their weapon of choice when it came to gaining influence over mortals, but Beelzebub was not among them. Plus, when asked if he did have carnal desires, Gabriel had said he didn’t think he did.

But he hadn’t said no, either, which had been his immediate reply whenever they had tried to talk him into any kind of serious sin, and therefore Beelzebub concluded it would be foolish not to make at least an attempt. So they would - but first, they needed to do some research over what carnal relations precisely entailed other than just choosing one out of two models of genitalia and make them fit with the other’s.

They would come across as rather stupid, after all, if Gabriel accepted and they had to reveal they didn’t know the first thing about what they’d just proposed.

***

The dancers should stand facing each other, keep their feet loose and relaxed, standing so that they are facing each other with about an arm's length of space in between them...

By the time he got to the second paragraph, Gabriel had begun to suspect that guide - Learn How To Shag In One Minute - was not precisely what he was looking for. With a frown, he went back to the search results and looked around a bit further.

Ah, so apparently shag dancing was a thing. It looked rather awkward and had no relevance to his research, doubly so as angels did not dance and he certainly had not picked up the habit since becoming mortal, so in the end Gabriel sighed and just put his phone down.

All right, it seemed that the Internet was not a reliable source, regardless of the large amounts of porn that, he had been informed, could be found in it. He had absolutely no intention to come across as a fool if - when? - Beelzebub brought up the matter again, and therefore he needed better sources than dubious websites with excessive amounts of Xs in their name.

A book. Books are more reliable.

Of course Gabriel was not so gullible to think all books could be trusted - he had seen too many outlandish editions of the Bible not to know better - so he would need to be certain the book he got his hands on would be a reputable one.

And he just so happened to know an expert in the field.

***

“Lord Beelzeb--”

“Nothing!”

Dagon blinked, taken aback, when Lord Beelzebub let out a noise that was only slightly more dignified than a shriek and slammed their laptop shut. They had been sitting on their throne, staring at the screen with such keen interest they hadn’t heard her coming in - and now, for some reason, they were sitting on the laptop.

… All right. Dagon would assume that whatever they were looking at was a private matter and not ask, then. She cleared her throat and somehow managed to keep a straight face despite the utter surprise; she had never seen the Lord of the Flies caught so off-guard.

“What do you want!” Beelzebub barked, looking one step away from trying to turn her to ashes. Not that Hellfire could destroy a demon, of course, but it would hurt quite badly and Dagon liked it better when she was not hurt quite badly.

“I, uh, am here concerning the meeting to review the performance of our demons this month,” she said. “If it suits you, we can move the time--”

“You can chair that stupid meeting,” the Prince of Hell snapped. “Now leave. I’m busy.”

“Oh. Is it anything I can help wi--”

“You can help by chairing the meeting in my stead.”

“Ah. Does that mean I am authorized to choose who to punish and what bonuses to award--”

“You’re authorized to do whatever the Heaven you want, as long as you leave me now!”

The flies around Lord Beelzebub’s head buzzed furiously as though to underline the unspoken threat, and Dagon was clever enough not to argue further: a quick bow, and she was out of the throne room as fast as her legs could carry her while still maintaining some composure.

Once alone, Beelzebub let out a groan and rubbed their eyes. They stood, picked up the laptop from their throne, and opened it again. The screen was cracked, but then again the entire thing was so busted it was plainly not supposed to work in any capacity, and Beelzebub had yet to meet a piece of technology that would defy their order to work when they were supposed to.

It sure worked now, as Beelzebub turned it back on and to look at their most recent searches.

how to do courtship how to court human how to court idiot how to kiss human genitalia how penis work how vagina work how to have sex tutorial

The last one led to a rather educational video depicting a man and a woman on a large, round bed. If they squinted, the man even looked a little like Gabriel.

Beelzebub supposed it would do for now, in case they decided to acquire female genitalia for the occasion, but they were still on the fence about that and would probably need to seek more varied videos. Just to make sure they had grasped the main idea, of course.

“Unnecessarily complicated, is what all this is,” Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, declared loudly. Then they leaned back on their throne, reached for one of the mugs Gabriel had bought them, and hit play again.

For research.

***

“Gabriel! It’s good to see you.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Crowley muttered.

“Come, sit. I’ll make some tea.”

“Feel free to decline, we won’t mind.”

“Tea would be much appreciated, thank you,” Gabriel said, to Crowley’s annoyance, and sat, to his further annoyance, while entirely ignoring his remarks, to his utter annoyance. He looked around the cottage, and if he dared say anything about the decor Crowley would chew his head off, especially after seeing what kind of minimalistic nightmare Heaven was.

“This is… cozy,” Gabriel finally said after a slight hesitation, leaving Crowley just a little miffed that he didn’t, after all, get a good excuse to chew off his head. Yet.

“Oh, we’re still in the process of moving everything,” Aziraphale was saying, picking up the teapot he’d put on the stove only minutes before Gabriel had showed up at the bookstore. With the portal-door between the store and the cottage wide open, the sound of him knocking had carried over and Aziraphale had let him in before Crowley could stop it.

“We will keep the door open between here and my bookstore, it is such a convenient place to store all my books and I am not ready to give it up just yet. Crowley still needs to move some paintings out of his flat, that garish throne and the decoration he stole from a church--”

“I didn’t steal it, the church was bombed.”

“I remember. It was an eventful evening,” Aziraphale said lightly, putting the teapot on the table. “I almost got discorporated, but Crowley came to help me out. He saved us all upstairs so much paperwork.”

“Ah,” Gabriel said, clearly not sure what to say to that. “I mean-- thank you.”

Crowley gave him a long, unimpressed look, and he cleared his throat. “Anyway… where’s here, exactly?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know,” Crowley said, crossing his arms. They both had agreed that neither Heaven nor Hell would ever know where their cottage was, and while Gabriel was technically part of neither, he still counted as a stuck-up archangel as far as Crowley was concerned. Now that he knew about the cottage, something would have to be done about the door connecting it to the bookstore. Maybe a seal, the kind that would keep out anyone who was not the two of them…

“It’s good to know you’re doing well,” Aziraphale was saying, clearly speaking for himself only, and poured tea in all three cups on the table despite the fact Crowley had elected not to sit yet, instead glaring at Gabriel in hopes he would feel uncomfortable enough to leave. “Now, what was that you mentioned about needing research books?” he asked, and brought the cup to his mouth.

“I need pornography books,” Gabriel declared, and the excellent tea Aziraphale had just sipped was sprayed right back out on the table in a fine mist. From his corner, Crowley raised both eyebrows up to almost his hairline.

Well. That was not what he’d expected to hear.

Aziraphale looked down at the mess on the table and on his own clothes before he gave Gabriel a very, very weary look. “You know, don’t you, that there really is no need for codes now?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, no, it’s not a code. I do need some pornography books.”

Aziraphale stared.

“... For research. As I sa-- Aziraphale?”

No answer: Aziraphale stood, without a further word, and was out of the room within moments, hands up in the air. Whether to find someplace to scream in peace, stare at the wall for a few minutes while scrubbing the mental image out of his brain, or try to clean the tea off his clothes, Crowley was not sure.

He would check on him in a minute. First, he had questions.

“Research, huh?” he said, leaning on the table across a rather bewildered Gabriel, who had somehow expected a different reaction to him asking to borrow pornography books. He grinned, wide enough to almost make his cheeks hurt. There was some amazing mocking material there, he could feel it. “And who is this about? A new friend? A coworker?”

Still stunned by Aziraphale’s reaction, Gabriel answered without pausing a moment to ponder whether he should answer that question. “Beelzebub,” he said, like he was answering a question on what kind of tea he preferred.

Ah.

For a few moments Crowley could only stare, the grin frozen on his lips. He was startled out of it by a sound like breaking glass that, he realized rather belatedly, came from inside his own brain.

No. No no no no. Nope. Nope. Abort, abort.

“Angel!” he called out, his voice a little strangled, and went to search for Aziraphale to make him share with him whatever bleach he was now using on his brain. Behind him, Gabriel spoke up.

“Uh, so can I borrow a book--” he tried to ask, but a slamming door was the only reply he got for a good while.

***

“Oh, this is never going to come out…”

Aziraphale sighed, looking down at his waistcoat, whose front was currently drenched with tea. Of course he could miracle it away, with Gabriel no longer in the position of writing him strongly worded letters about frivolous miracles... but he could feel a headache build up just thinking about Gabriel and looking around for a clean napkin was a rather welcomed distraction.

Until Crowley stepped in, eyes wide.

“Beelzebub,” he blurted out, causing Aziraphale to nearly jump out of his skin and frantically look around. God knew, the last thing he needed to deal with was the Lord of the Flies in his bookstore.

“What-- where??”

“No, I mean--” Crowley let out a pained noise, rubbing his eyes like he hoped to get an awful image off his retinas. “It’s about Beelzebub. Gabriel’s research. On pornography.”

Ah.

“Ah,” Aziraphale said. He needed a few moments for what he’d just heard to entirely sink into his brain. When it did, he barely repressed a shudder. “That is… not… what I was expecting.”

“The Archangel Fucking Gabriel and Beelzebub. It’s in my brain now. Can you miracle it away?”

“I’m afraid that goes beyond my abilities,” Aziraphale said, reaching up to put a hand on his own head to calm the building headache. “If your head also hurts something awful, though, I can help with that. If you can get the tea out of my waistco-- oh. Thank you.” He smiled as Crowley took care of that with a snap of his fingers, the other hand still firmly on his eyes.

“You’re welcome. Now, can we throw him whatever book he wants and then throw him out?”

Aziraphale was very much opposed to throwing books, of course, but shoving a pornography book in Gabriel’s hands and firmly showing him the door seemed the best course of action.

***

“... I can explain.”

“No offence, but we’d really rather you do not.”

Gabriel shifted a little, a heavy leather-bound book in his arms. “Right. Well, er… thank you for the book. I’ll return it once I’ve--”

“Feel free to return it whenever. You’re very much welcome,” Aziraphale spoke quickly, and while he didn’t physically shove Gabriel through the door, he very much did get the message that he really wanted him to leave sooner rather than later. “Best of, er, luck. With your research,” he added quickly, and closed the door behind him.

Gabriel stood on the spot a few moments, blinking in slight confusion, but in the end he shrugged it off - maybe he had caught him in a busy moment - and opened the book to have a quick look.

… Huh. Could a mortal’s spine actually do that?

There was laughter, a couple of children running past him, and Gabriel immediately closed the book. Right, right - looking at pornography in public was frowned upon, so he ought to wait until he was back home. On the way back, he’d purchase a pen and notebook.

In case he needed to write something down.

***

Once their research was completed, Beelzebub was still not certain what it was about the act that so many humans found irresistible - but, they had to admit, their curiosity was piqued. Perhaps a carnal act with Gabriel would pave the way for his descent into Hell, perhaps it would not, but either way they would get to know what it precisely was about, so they would be getting something out of it.

The only thing for them to find out was whether Gabriel would be a willing participant, which was a rather important point because they may be the Prince of Hell but they also had standards. And, all things considered, they got the answer to that rather quickly: they couldn’t be many other reasons for Gabriel to be sitting at his desk with an open book full of pornographic images and a notebook half-filled with notes.

At least, they hoped they were not. Beelzebub found that the idea Gabriel might harbor carnal desire for someone else left them distinctly annoyed.

“I can explain,” Gabriel blurted out as soon as he recovered from the mini heart attack Beelzebub’s sudden appearance in flames and smoke had given in. Quick recovery, they had to give him that. “This is, uh-- this is-- research, for--”

“You’ve given my question some thought, I see.”

“Well--” he finally regained composure, and cleared his throat. “I have.”

“And…?”

“I’m not certain I do have those, uh, inclinations, but I’d be open to give it a try. If you’re so inclined,” he added quickly.

“I see,” Beelzebub said, their voice perfectly collected. Inwardly, however, they felt very much like a Jehovah's Witness who’d just been invited inside to talk after knocking: hadn’t really thought they would get that far and had already forgotten just about everything they had planned to do in the event. So they said nothing else, and stared.

Gabriel said nothing else. And stared.

Needless to say, that was not a promising start.

“... Which one?” Beelzebub finally asked.

“Huh?”

“Which set of genitalia.”

“Oh. I have--”

“I know what you have, I have seen you showering. I’m asking which one I should get now.”

“Ah.” Gabriel glanced at the book as though hoping to find an answer there. “Er… either? We can throw a coin,” he muttered, and dug a coin out of his pocket and handed it to them. “Head for penis and--”

Beelzebub threw the coin, caught it, and looked down at it. “Tails.”

“Right. Well--”

“Do not presume for even a moment I will allow you to be above me.”

“I’m not presuming, I just-- what are those?”

“Notes,” Beelzebub muttered, more than slightly irritated at having forgotten their own script. They shuffled through the clue cards they had pulled out of their back pockets, rather wishing their handwriting did not look like a dying fly had dragged itself across the paper after being dunked in ink.

“... Right. So we have come to the agreement we both consent. At this point, we’re supposed to--” they began, and trailed off when Gabriel did the unthinkable.

He laughed.

“What are you-- hey! Stop laughing!” Beelzebub buzzed furiously, their face suddenly really, really hot. They crumpled notes in their fist and glaring up at Gabriel. “Cease this instant!” they ordered, and were a moment away from kicking him in the shin - how dare he laugh at the Lord of the Flies? - when Gabriel spoke, his laugh dying down to a snicker.

“I-- heh. My apologies. I just--” he gestured to the papers crumpled in Beelzebub’s fist, and then at his own notebook on the desk. “One way or another, we end up with paperwork. I suspect humans are more spontaneous about it.”

Beelzebub huffed. “Well, I am not human,” they muttered, but the anger died down, and they crossed their arms. “If you don’t plan by the book, how do you know if you’re getting things right?”

“Well-- sometimes you don’t know. Humans take chances all the time.”

A scoff. “What a disgustingly human thing to say. Is that how your mind operates now?”

“... I do still find it somewhat frightening,” Gabriel said, quietly, and whatever mockery Beelzebub was about to utter next died in their throat. The look he was giving them was surprisingly open, and he looked painfully vulnerable.

In the end, when they spoke, their voice was just as quiet.

“You have no reason to be frightened,” they said, and burned the note in their fist, letting the ashes fall on the floor. “I usually do punish failure, but I’m willing to make you an exception, I suppose.”

A chuckle, and Gabriel lifted a hand, holding it up almost close enough to Beelzebub’s face to touch the skin. “May I?”

“... You may,” they replied. The touch was warm, foreign and familiar at the same time - did he touch their face like that a long time ago, when they were still Ba’al? - and leaning into it, finding out where it all led, was so very tempting. Ironic, considering that they were supposed to be the one doing the tempting and… and…

No.

“Wait.” Beelzebub reached up to brace a hand against Gabriel’s chest, keeping him at a distance. He immediately stopped, and looked down at them in confusion, their faces only inches apart. “There is a chance this may count as a serious sin.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shouldn’t have told him. He’ll call it off.

Gabriel blinked, and the confused expression turned into a smile. “I figured,” he said, and tilted up their chin. “I think I’ll take the chance.”

… Well, they had given him a fair warning, so their conscience was clear. Would have been clear, if they had one. “You’re a fool,” the Prince of Hell informed him.

“I figured that too,” the fool replied.

What followed was a bit messier and significantly more complicated than expected, but given enough time and attempts, they did figure that out as well.

***

A good while after they had both caught their breath and Gabriel’s heart no longer felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest, Beelzebub had yet to say a word.

But they were still there, even if silent, accepting Gabriel’s arms around them and his quiet breathing against the nape of their neck, and he supposed that was a sure sign they had no complaints. In the end, he dared break the peaceful silence.

“Can you stay for the night?” he asked, his voice low.

“I am Prince of Hell. I can do as I wish.”

“... Do you wish to stay for the night?”

“I can’t see why not,” they conceded, causing Gabriel’s lips to curl into a smile. He said nothing, kissing the back of Beelzebub’s shoulder instead. Of course, they could tell he was smiling right away. “What are you smirking about?”

“Well, it was-- pleasant, was it not?”

Gabriel felt their light snort more than he heard it. “Bragging already, are you?” they muttered, and turned in his arms to face him. Their skin was pleasantly warm. “Do I have to remind you who was leading?”

Of course, there was no need. It wasn’t often that Gabriel found himself in the position of having to look up at the Lord of the Flies, and he hadn’t minded the change. He hadn’t minded at all.

“Oh, I never tried to take credit.” Gabriel dropped a kiss on the bridge of Beelzebub’s nose, gaining himself a frown and a buzzing noise - but no attempt at all to shove him off them. He was dimly aware of the fact that there was a folder in Hell bearing his name which perhaps had just gained a sin in red ink, but he found he couldn’t even begin to feel concern.

“Next time,” Beelzebub was saying, “I’ll try the other set of genitalia.”

“Heh. So there will be a next time?”

The Lord of the Flies did shove him at that, flat onto his back, before they rolled on top of him. They propped themselves up on their elbows, which rested on his chest. It wasn’t the most comfortable predicament, but Gabriel’s muscles still felt like cooked asparagus and he wouldn’t have bothered to protest for anything short of being raked over hot coals.

“We both have researched a great deal more than what we have put in practice, and I don’t see why the time spent on it should go to waste,” they said, tilting their head. “Don’t you agree?”

A smile, and Gabriel dared tilt up his head to try and catch their lips again. He missed, and his mouth rested briefly on their throat instead before he pulled them down against his chest.

“I do,” he murmured. “Wholeheartedly.”

***

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” --Jeremiah 17:9

***

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

Text

To Have and To Hold

Summary: Y/N makes an oversight at work. The resulting extra hours with Arthur delight them both.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Words: 4,272

A/N: This story had been kicking around in my head for about two months, but I hadn’t been sure if I was going to write it. Then I read @sweet-nothings04‘s amazing Hand-in-Hand (which you all need to check out, if you haven’t), and knew I had to put it on paper. Thanks to her for the inspiration to finally develop this, and for the title, too!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Perhaps it was the sunshine that stirred her. Or the horns of traffic on congested streets. The hammering of a distant construction site. The chatter and occasional yelling of passersby. The hum of Gotham awakening.

Y/N blinked in confusion - how could it be so bright this early? - and squinted at the clock at Arthur's side of the bed. No numbers greeted her, just its blank, plastic display. Stretching, she reached to her left for her watch, in its spot by the beige rotary phone on the nightstand.

"Shit!"

Nearly knocking over her glass of water, she clambered off the mattress. Arthur had warned her the lights could go off in his apartment. Not often and not for long. But enough to annoy. Naturally, his building's shoddy electricity had to mess with the alarm today. When she'd stayed up too late. When he'd had to leave ahead of her to commute to the other end of the city for a rare winter gig. When her body had chosen to oversleep in the coziness of his blankets.

Her nylons had never been yanked on with such haste. Arthur had made coffee but she skipped it in favor of brushing her teeth. Pausing on her way out, she took a calcium supplement and grabbed a note from the counter. She read it while riding the wood-paneled, graffiti covered elevator: "Your presentashin will be great. You snored a lot. Good thing your cute. - Arthur." He always signed his name. As though she wouldn't recognize his scrawl. As if anyone else wrote her sweet, sassy missives. She grinned until she hopped on the for-once punctual subway.

The presentation he'd referred to was set for that afternoon. She was expected to discuss the evidence and court file for this week's contested hearing. Last night, she'd sat at Arthur's breakfast bar to compile the case's final details and finish prep sheets. Gently, she'd rebuffed his subtle advances. His attempts to draw her attention from work to him.

Excitement had been palpable as he'd hovered near her. She was fairly certain she knew the cause because it enthused her as well. In three and a half short weeks, he'd be moving in with her. They'd officially begin traversing whatever the future held for them together. Hesitation had been clear in his posture, his drawn shoulders when (after plenty of convincing on her part that yes, she really, really, wanted him) he'd finally accepted the key to her place. But since he'd added it to his own keyring, he'd brightened. Strode a little taller. Walked a little prouder. Touched a little bolder. As though the weight he carried had lessened, at least by a couple cinder blocks' worth.

At his slight pout, she'd decided to find a way to involve him. He'd perched on the stool next to her, rested his cigarette in the pink ashtray to the left, and taken the proffered exhibit stickers with a quirked brow. Y/N had handed him papers, which he'd added labels to for her to write on. Then she'd stacked them in four different piles according to type. It had taken longer than usual - she was faster alone. But the intimacy of sharing the professional elements of her life with Arthur (besides the office wear he liked, claiming it showed how "smart" and "pretty" she was) had tightened her chest. And the curved-up corner of his thin lips had reflected how pleased he was, too.

They hadn't been able to collaborate on everything, however. It was past midnight by the time she'd joined Arthur, who had retreated to the bedroom an hour or so earlier. He'd been sitting against the headboard, half under the cover. The harsh blue light emanating from the old black and white TV at the foot of the bed had sharpened his features. Deepened the set of his eyes. He'd stubbed out his smoke as she closed the door. "I taped The Honeymoon Game. We can watch it when you're here again." A beat. "If you're not busy."

"This is supposed to be my last big project for a month or so." Sighing, she'd gotten her nightgown from her overnight bag. "I didn't mean for it to take all evening." She climbed in next to him and threw her arm across his lap. "I'm sorry."

He'd been stiff. Unyielding. The telltale signs he was miffed or upset. But he'd twined her hair around his finger, let his touch fall to her brow bone. "It's okay," he'd said lowly, adjusting to lie alongside her. "I don't want to be... I'm not being fair."

"You don't have to pretend with me, Arthur. It's all right to be annoyed." Tiredness had pulled at her as she'd fought to watch the rest of Gotham Tomorrow Tonight. The contact of his socked toes to her bare ones had made her smile, though, and she'd nuzzled his bicep. "I missed you," she'd mumbled, then promptly passed out.

The squeal of wheels on metal tracks prompted her to sling her canvas tote onto her shoulder. Shaw & Associates was a short sprint from the nearest station. She was certain she looked ridiculous, running down the street in her high heels. But she managed to slip into the office with two minutes to spare. Once she poured herself a cup of joe and straightened her blazer, she settled in her cushioned chair to get started.

It was only when Matt told her he wanted to meet before lunch that she'd rummaged in her bag. And realized she'd neglected to bring the file. Recalled it was sitting on Arthur's kitchen counter.

Fuck.

Her nails tapped the wood surface of her desk. Excusing herself to the bathroom so she could go retrieve it wouldn't fly. Matt would send a search party. She could try to discuss everything from memory, tell him documents were still being gathered. But he wasn't that oblivious. She settled on owning her error. "It's at home." Her delivery was nonchalant.

He waited until she'd loaded her typewriter with paper, then responded wryly. "You're not supposed to take files home anymore. Remember what happened last time?"

She leaned back as he stepped in front of her. "There was the slew of family cases that came in. With Patricia on leave, I'm handling all our calls and mail. Not to mention paperwork on her filings. It wouldn't have gotten finished if I hadn't taken it." Snorting, she shook her head at herself. Heat bloomed in her neck. "Not that it matters when I don't have it."

Expression softening, Matt stuck his hands in his pockets and jutted his chin at her. "How long did you work on it?"

It was hard to discern if he actually cared about the hours she put in. Or if he merely wanted to gauge the possibility of her doing investigations off the books again, something he'd explicitly prohibited. "I don't know." She waved dismissively. "Three or four hours?"

He let out a huff. "You put in enough time already. Go home at noon. We'll get to it first thing tomorrow."

"I have a lot to do." Her eyes widened at the myriad piles of folders laying around. "And I can't imagine you playing operator."

"I've managed when you've both been in court or at appointments. Besides," he continued as he headed back to his office. "You never take days off."

Straightening, she wheeled her chair to watch him plop down on his leather seat. "I'm taking three days next month," she countered.

His glare contained an unequal mix of mirth and consternation. "Y/N?"

The phone started ringing. She succeeded in making one ear ignore it. "Yes?"

"I know you haven't forgiven me for that whole Renew Corp. thing." She flinched at the casual mention of the company she loathed. Of her failure. But she forced herself to listen. Matt picked up a pen and started writing. “Rather than being stubborn, try saying, 'You're right.'"

~~~~~

Y/N stood in front of the narrow, white stove, stirring the soup she'd thrown together using bouillon, carrots, onions, and pasta. Ingredients she'd found in Arthur's kitchen. Music poured, at a respectable volume, from the radio on the windowsill. Swaying out-of-time, she added a sprinkling of black pepper, one of the only three spices he had (along with powdered garlic and salt). Wearing a content smirk, she sampled the steaming broth.

When she'd left the office, she'd been frustrated at herself. Yes, she was human. Everyone made mistakes. But she wasn't the forgetful type. Particularly if someone was depending on her. However, as she'd stopped in Burnley for another change of clothes, hopped on the train to Otisburg, and pictured Arthur's reaction to finding her in his home instead of having to call to wish her sweet dreams, her disposition had improved. Not only would he have her for an extra night. He'd get a late lunch, too.

The click of the deadbolt and clank of his keys on the entrance table came the second she turned off the stove. She listened to his heavy exhale as his bag dropped to the floor and shut the door. In her peripheral vision he froze, then approached tentatively. She reveled in his delicate hold on the dip of her waist, the peck he planted on her cheek. The smell of greasepaint wafted to her nose. "I hoped I hadn't made this up," he sighed with what sounded like relief. "But your meeting."

She angled herself towards him, gaze roving over his red and blue plaid blazer. The painted-on smile. His irresistible brown curls, mostly flattened by the wig he'd worn. Fidgeting with the petals of the squirting flower on his lapel, she scrunched up her face. "This morning went to shit." She explained the power outage, the clock, her own stupidity at leaving the file in his apartment. "I've packed it. Don't worry."

His posture grew pensive. "Sorry. Maybe- Maybe we should have stayed at your place. Your building's better."

Him thinking her error was somehow his fault had to be nipped in the bud. "No," she said. "You asked to make more memories here before we move in together. I'm happy to do that."

He paused, long enough she could have sworn she'd heard the gears in his head grinding. "Are you in trouble?"

Not unexpectedly, he had put together her mistake and her early dismissal from work and assumed the worst. "If I wasn't fired for trying to stop the Waynes, it's going to take more than an oversight to get me thrown out on my ass." Her brow furrowed. She sneaked a hand under his jacket and placed her palm on his chest. "I just hate that I wasted last night for nothing."

Soft lips, slightly sticky with red paint, grazed her temple. "It's okay," he said. "You're here now. And I got to help you."

The balm of his kindness loosened her rigid stance. His zeal to assist her, to ask questions, to learn about every aspect of her branded her heart completely. She leaned into him, kissed the squishy fold of skin under his chin, and nudged his ribs. "Food's ready. Go change. I want to hear all about your day."

Arthur emerged from the bathroom within minutes, clad in his worn, blue house pants and toweling his hair. Dimples were on constant display while they ate. The glint in his eyes was the one he usually had if his act or a job had gone particularly well, if he was pleased with himself. Was the one starting to be an almost weekly occurrence. Was the one that made his green eyes sparkle and caused her stomach to flip. He inched closer to her with every sentence.

The kids at the new children’s medical center had liked Carnival, he said. They hadn’t minded that he’d "filled in" for Gary. The magic tricks had all gone without a hitch, and the clinic had provided the balloons, which was a savings. The nurses and doctors had been nice; they’d even asked for his card. He’d had to provide a slip of paper with his address and telephone number instead. But he was sure he’d be invited to perform again. And he asked Y/N for help writing Gary a thank you note for the referral, claiming, “You’re better at that than me.”

“You’re the one who journals every day.” Her bowl and spoon clattered in the sink. “And your letter to me was beautiful. Just let me proofread it.”

Soon they were reclined on the sofa, sharing the flat pillow he’d used when he’d had no choice but to sleep there. The tape he’d recorded yesterday was playing. The Honeymoon Game had been a casual watch before, he’d explained. Not a nightly ritual like Murray. Given that he had a girlfriend and was a boyfriend himself, it had become fun to view.

She was only half-focused on the TV’s talking heads. Her mind was drifting to moving day, which filled her with gladness. She examined the plaid walls, the white cream color ceiling, the knick-knacks strewn about in the glow of the setting sun. The lantern with an owl hanging in the corner; the green, plastic drawers by the television; the curio cabinet... They were all a part of 8J, but assuredly not a part of him. How much would he be bringing with him, she wondered. And what would he be leaving behind?

“With one sugar and a shot of milk.” Arthur’s lively voice broke through her contemplation. Ah. He was reacting to the questions posed to the contestants, and making the answers about her, as he was wont to do.

She nestled back into the pleasant warmth of his firm frame. “Three sugars,” she replied, confirming she knew how he took his coffee. They continued to play along, with him showing off everything he’d memorized about her, and her replying with what she’d gathered about him.

Eventually, he shifted behind her. Raised himself on his elbow. “How did you know you loved me?”

Her hum was soft. Short. Possible responses were multitude. She’d suspected she could fall for him early on. When he’d wanted to repay her for doing what anyone should have done on the subway. And the first time he’d had the courage to call her after they’d split a slice of pie, his slight stammer revealing his nervousness. Maybe she’d say it was how slowly he’d drunken his wine during dinner, initially squinting as he sipped, his inexperience with alcohol obvious.

But she chose to go with what she believed was truest. What she assumed he’d hear most keenly. “Before we slept together, I hadn’t been with anyone for four years. And even then, it was different.” His hand splayed on her abdomen, thumb dragging along the waistband of her green leggings. A delightful ache flared in her center. “When I woke up, I felt perfect.”

“You felt like you were perfect?”

“No, silly,” she laughed, batting his forearm. “I knew I hadn't made a mistake. I reached out to your side, first thing - I’d thought of it that way, even then.” At the sensation of his hardening shaft against her rear, she giggled. “You’d made me so happy. You always do. I wanted to you to bed me again.”

The round tip of his nose skimmed her cheek, and she shivered at the dip of his fingers into her panties. “I want to again,” he rasped, paraphrasing her. The grind of his length was making her light-headed, and she twisted her torso to look at him. “I’ve been thinking about it.” Cheekbones glowing, he averted his eyes. “Ever since I woke up.”

“My monthly started,” she said regretfully. His descent halted, and a groan of frustration left him as he lowered his forehead to her shoulder. She mused. While he was becoming more apt to say what he desired, it happened rarely. But she loved it and didn’t want to discourage him from letting himself be assertive. Would he be offended by her suggestion? “I freshened up before we laid down. I have a tampon in. There are other things we can do.” She pressed her lips together, hoping she didn’t sound presumptuous. “If you’re comforta-“

“I’m comfortable.” His mouth quickly claimed hers, opening on a sigh. The tip of his tongue laved at the seam of her lips, and his messy enthusiasm made her whimper. Leaving a scorching trail in its wake, his hand traversed to her upper leg, gliding over the crease where her thigh and vulva met.

Shallow breaths caressed the nape of her neck, stoking the heat threatening to consume her. But the studio audience blaring from the television’s mono-speaker kept wresting her out of her haze. She snatched the VCR remote from the coffee table and hit the pause button.

The tease of his fingertips at her dark curls caused the peaks of her breasts to stiffen. She gasped as the rough fabric of her sweater dragged along them. His fore- and ring fingers spread her outer lips and she shuddered. The leisureliness of his fondling didn’t detract from its intoxicating effect.

Though it was a tad rough. “You’re kinda dry. Hold on.” Swiftly, he brought his hand to his mouth and wet his fingertips. Y/N blinked at him. It was clear he thought nothing of it, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering he’d confided he liked going down on her. Still. Seeing this normally reserved man improvise so he could pleasure her made her center throb with need.

Y/N was doing her damnedest to get her leggings and underwear down. Arthur snorted at her spirited, failed attempt at kicking them away. “It’s okay,” he chuckled, pushing them off her ankles with his foot. Then his touch fluttered at her swollen folds. She arched into him, already feeling as though she would burst. Bent at the knee, her leg lifted until her foot was flat on the couch cushion, allowing him easier access. He took advantage, sweeping forward and back along the rigid line of her engorged clitoral hood. She rolled towards him subtly, her moans getting louder with each tap to her sensitive nub.

Still holding himself up, he cradled her head. "Your sounds make me crazy," he said lowly. Once his hips started following hers, faintly rutting against the flesh of her backside, she closed her eyes. Hurriedly, she reached behind her to yank at his pajamas. "What?" he asked.

"I want to feel you," she whispered. There was a huff and some fumbling. And moments later his cock was settled at the cleft of her bottom. She bit her lip, savoring the weight of him. God, he felt wonderful.

His fingertips whispered over her clit, daring to follow the edge of her inner labia. She heard him gulp. "How does it feel when we're together? When- When I'm in you?"

"Warm. Full. Like you belong there," she replied with a smile. That last part of her response must have been unexpected, given that his grazes ceased and he trembled. "Don't stop," she whined, placing her hand on his. "Please, Arthur. You know just how to touch me."

Groaning, he started anew, deftly swiping quicker and quicker. The undulations of her pelvis hastened unevenly, begging both for release and for their coupling to last forever. She ran her palm up her torso, kneading her breast and plucking at her nipple. He nuzzled at her ear, grunting low in the back of his throat. Winding her fingers into his loose waves, she tugged lightly. Her belly twitched. Her whole frame tingled.

His skillful touch. The love they had for one another. The noises he was making in the crook of her shoulder. They all combined to throw her over the edge, and a wave of pleasure crashed through her. She cried his name brokenly, feeling empty without him inside her. But he kept holding her, guiding her through the crests of her climax. She was gasping, struggling to suck in air. Surely, she thought, he could detect the thundering of her heart against her ribs.

Gradually, the quivering grip she had on his locks eased. The kisses he planted on her neck were open-mouthed, desperate. And he hadn't halted the ardent movements of his hips. Y/N turned onto her other side. Gazing at him, she raked his curls out of his face, caressed his cheekbone with her knuckles. His look was hungry, darkened with need. The creases between his brows deepened as her hand trailed through the sparse dusting of hair on his chest.

There was a youthful charm to this situation, she considered. To them craving each other but not completely joining. It reminded her of being a teenager. When she'd been curious and horny, but nervous and not quite ready to go "all the way" with her ex. Being with Arthur allowed her to do all that again. To relive those experiences, to explore and make discoveries with him. To fall further in love with him daily.

She tenderly pecked the freckles at the top of his sternum, nestled against the notch above his clavicle. "I'm lucky to have you."

He didn't miss a beat, even as she trailed past the ticklish spots on his flank. "I'm luckier."

"I disagree." She outlined the slender muscles of his stomach, the v-lines leading to his cock. Played with the springy, brown curls at the base of him. "Without you, I'd only have my work. Which was enough before. But not now." After a moment, she concluded she was being sappy. She had to change it up. "And I wouldn't be having the best sex of my life."

Clearly flustered, he muffled his laugh. "Really?" His blush was prominent, his grin ecstatic.

"Really." Groans short and sudden, he rocked into her touch when she encircled his ample girth. Her fingers danced along his shaft, marveling at the contrast of his velvety skin with how hard he was. Pumping up and down, she tugged at him, trying to match the speed of his thrusts. He nudged his nose to hers, gazing at her before his hooded eyes flitted to watch what she was doing. Then she looked, too.

The sight of him fucking into her hand made her dizzy with want, even though he'd just gotten her off. The crimson, swollen head glistened, slick beading generously at the tip. Y/N licked her lips and spread it around him with the pad of her thumb. Moaning sharply, he bucked harder. Her motions quickened, flicking repeatedly at the notch on the underside.

Demand was implicit in the grasp he had on her upper arm. And it strengthened as his hips' stuttered, becoming unpredictable. Ragged pants hit her face. "I'm- I'm gonna make a mess.”

"It's all right," she soothed. Keeping ahold of him, she lay on her back. He followed and settled on top of her. Whimpering her name, he rubbed himself against her labia. But she gently pushed him onto his knees and continued palming him, her fingers teasing the ridge on his erection. It wouldn't take long to make him come. She could see it in the clench of his jaw, the tightening cords in his neck, his abrupt, needy cries...

Plunging forward, he held himself in place, grunting, clutching her urgently. His release hit her abdomen, warm and wet, and she gasped, her body curving up towards him. The feel of him spilling onto her couldn't completely distract her, though. Not from the beauty of his parted lips. Not from the relief that gradually spread across his features. Not from the slackening of his muscles as tension ebbed.

Sweat had gathered on his forehead. A droplet ran from the end of a dark brow to his jawline. Then he kissed her, his mouth groping at hers. "I love you," he said. He gave her one last peck and sat up on his knees. Holding onto the arm of the sofa, he retrieved her underwear from the floor and wiped her belly off. "That was fun." He tucked his chin bashfully.

"I concur." She entwined their hands and sat, then stretched as she pushed herself to stand and walk to the bathroom. The washcloth he'd designated as hers hung on the hook by the towels. She cleaned herself, listening as Arthur started the show again.

A new round of questions was just beginning. "When you and your spouse first met," the host started, "what was your first impression?"

Arthur's answer was instant. "Nice."

Y/N said the first thing that came to mind. "Handsome."

She popped her head out of the room to find him leaning on the entrance of the short corridor, beaming at her with hitched giggles. He was probably waiting for his turn to clean up. Like he normally did. But she couldn't stop herself from staring at him. Loving eyes met hers and his brows lifted expectantly. "Yes?"

Smiling, she wrung out the washcloth and put it back in its place. She stepped to him with a smile and smoothed his hair back. The rush of happiness in her soul, one she wasn't even sure she had, enamored her. Not only at what they'd shared on his old, scratchy sofa. But at Arthur being Arthur. At knowing soon she'd get to sleep next to him every night. Build a life with him, one she hadn't dreamed of even six months ago. Nothing she could say seemed adequate. So she went with a kind gesture, one she knew he'd appreciate. "I'll make us some decaf. And I love you, too."

~~~~~

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