#also that is not even close to my zip code

[mothdogs]

Two incomprehensible, targeted ads that I got on Instagram today. Can’t believe I just spent my last $1,784.05 so I can’t afford both of these items rn :/

[orellazalonia]

Prank Wars

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes start as chaotic, bickering frenemies locked in a prank war filled with glitter bombs, insults, and grudging teamwork. What begins as rivalry evolves into a sharp-edged romance, complete with teasing, team gossip, and quiet moments that prove even the most combative hearts can find their match. (Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader)

Word Count: 3.5k+

A/N: Wanted to write something with a sort of friendly rivalry type vibe. I think it turned out to be a fun read. So, Happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist

You weren’t sure how it started. Maybe it was the time you’d called Bucky a “grumpy vintage action figure” during sparring, or maybe it was when he’d scoffed at your taste in music loud enough for the entire compound to hear. Either way, it was clear from day one: you and Bucky Barnes didn’t get along… but also couldn’t seem to stay away from each other.

You were a field agent with a smart mouth, a tendency to disobey orders, and a deep love for chaos. Bucky was a stickler for rules (at least the ones he liked), a human grimace with vibranium arms and trauma to spare, and somehow you kept ending up on the same teams. That first year at the Tower had been nothing but sarcastic quips, mutual eye rolls, and explosive chemistry that was definitely not romantic. At all. Probably.

Still, he never missed a mission with you. He’d grumble, complain, and occasionally fake gag when assigned to your squad, but he always showed up, and you always had each other’s backs. That didn’t mean peace. Oh, no. It meant war. Pranks, to be specific.

It began with the coffee incident. You’d woken up earlier than usual and decided to be kind for once. So, you brewed Bucky’s preferred dark roast before heading to the gym. But when you returned, your favorite mug (“World’s Okayest Agent”) was full of lukewarm decaf. A tiny sticky note on the handle read: Thanks for the bean water. I upgraded it. -B.

You were fuming. You didn’t say anything. You simply retaliated.

The next morning, Bucky found his boots filled with glitter. Not just glitter, iridescent, microfine, impossible-to-wash-out glitter that puffed into the air with each step like a magical dust trail from hell. You heard him curse halfway across the compound and smiled, eating your breakfast yogurt.

From there, it escalated. Your shampoo was swapped with syrup. His knife belt mysteriously vanished and reappeared glued to the ceiling. Your favorite hoodie went missing and was later found on Alpine who now refused to give it back. You switched his phone settings to speak and only read in French. He hacked your earpiece during a mission so it played 90s boyband music every time you tried to speak. Natasha bet twenty bucks on who would snap first. Clint started recording everything for “training purposes” (a.k.a. blackmail).

Still, you and Bucky kept a strict code: no permanent damage, nothing during missions, and no involving civilians. The rest was fair game.

There was an unspoken tension that came with it though. The kind of energy that lingered in the way you stood just a little too close during briefings, or the way Bucky always made sure you had your favorite protein bar stashed in the quinjet after tough missions. You could argue like enemies, scheme like tricksters, and still be the first ones to bandage each other’s wounds in silence.

And maybe that’s why, one night, when your newest plan involved rewiring his door sensors to trigger a confetti cannon… you hesitated.

You stood there, crouched in the hallway, wires in hand with your face lit by the soft glow of your tablet screen. Something was off. A quiet hum in the air. Your instincts itched. You weren’t alone.

“Don’t move,” came a voice behind you, calm, smug, and too close.

You sighed. “That’s what you said last time, and then I ended up zip-tied to a barstool with Steve giving me a lecture about boundaries.”

Bucky stepped into your peripheral vision, arms crossed. “Because you tried to saran-wrap my motorcycle.”

“It was a creative deterrent.”

He leaned down. “And this is… what? Revenge? Retaliation? Or are you just obsessed with me?”

You tilted your head, smirking. “What can I say? I love a fixer-upper.”

His eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement. He reached past you slowly and disconnected a wire before you could stop him. The door made a sad little beep as the trap disarmed. You stared at him, defeated.

“I was going to use that for the hallway next week,” You muttered.

He leaned in even closer, his voice lower. “Try harder.”

And just like that, he walked off. You were still crouched in the hallway, flushed, stunned, and already plotting.

The war wasn’t over. It was just getting good.

-

During your next mission, you weren’t sure what set off the alarm in your head. It wasn’t anything loud or dramatic, just a moment. A brief flicker of tension in the air during an otherwise routine mission.

You and Bucky were assigned to a low-level extraction. Some simple, easy to navigate warehouse but you were both grumbling the whole time, because being sent on “babysitting detail”, as you’d called it, meant no time for new pranks. He’d called you “bored and dangerous,” and you’d called him “paranoid and constipated,” because that’s what you two did. Banter was the language. Biting, sarcastic, familiar.

But then, something shifted.

You’d split up to secure the area. You were in the northwest wing, scanning crates for the target intel when your comm crackled, static. No voice, just dead silence.

“Barnes?” You tried, tapping your earpiece. “Buck, come in.”

No answer.

That was fine. Annoying, but fine. He’d probably gone off comm on purpose to mess with you even if that went against the “rules”. You rolled your eyes, muttered something unspeakable, and kept moving. But then, the overhead lights flickered, and a strange smell reached your nose, smoke. Not fire. Something burning.

You pulled your weapon and turned the corner just in time to see two unknowns in black body armor dragging a third figure toward the loading dock. Bucky. His arms limp. One eye half-open, dazed. Blood at his temple.

You didn’t think. You moved.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t graceful. It was fast, brutal, and angry. You’d never felt this kind of burn before. Like someone had tried to mess with your territory. You fired two rounds, took a pipe to the ribs, wrestled one attacker to the ground, and jabbed a shock baton straight into the other’s side.

By the time you got to Bucky, he was already regaining consciousness, his voice a ragged growl.

“’M fine,” He muttered, trying to sit up.

“You look like hell,” You snapped, crouching beside him. “What happened?”

He blinked at you, blood still dripping down his cheek. “Trap. One of them said your name.”

That made you freeze.

“What?”

“They weren’t after me,” He said, grimacing. “They were using me to draw you out.”

Your mouth went dry. The adrenaline started wearing off, and something unfamiliar twisted in your gut.

They weren’t random mercs. They were targeting you.

You didn’t know what you were more pissed about, the fact that they almost got away with it, or that Bucky had taken a hit meant for you.

Back at the Tower, you didn’t speak to him for a full hour. Not because you were mad at him but because you didn’t know what to do with the feeling that had sunk under your skin like lead.

You sat by his med bay cot with your arms folded, pretending to be annoyed when really, your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Bucky murmured, glancing at you from the bed.

You scowled. “You’re lucky I didn’t punch you. Running off like that without backup.”

“I had backup. You found me.”

“Not the point.”

He gave you a long look. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you reached into your jacket pocket and wordlessly handed him a folded sheet of paper.

He frowned and unfolded it. A crude drawing of a scoreboard. At the bottom, you’d scribbled:

Injured in the line of duty (for dumb reasons): You – 7 Me – 5 Bonus point for catching me off guard. Bastard.

For the first time that day, he actually smiled. Not his usual smirk, but something a little softer, quieter.

“Does this mean the prank war’s on hold?” He asked.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed again. “Not a chance.”

And then, after a beat:

“…But maybe we cool it with the glitter bombs for a week.”

And so it did. The prank war didn’t end after the warehouse incident. It just… slowed. Morphed into something quieter. The jokes were still there like dry comments and sarcastic smiles but the glitter bombs were replaced by things like Bucky bringing you an ice pack before you asked. You, in turn, dropped by the training room with his favorite protein shake the day after his stitches came out.

And of course, everyone noticed.

Natasha cornered you in the gym a week later, twirling a throwing knife with deliberate laziness as you wiped sweat from your brow.

“So,” She said, nonchalant. “You and Barnes done setting the Tower on fire yet?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

She arched an eyebrow. “I mean the tension. The bickering. The very specific brand of foreplay that involves booby-trapping his bedroom door.”

You tossed the towel over your shoulder and rolled your eyes. “It’s not foreplay. It’s war.”

Nat gave you a slow, knowing smirk. “Sure. That’s why you look like someone kicked your puppy every time he gets hurt now.”

You didn’t respond because she wasn’t wrong.

It wasn’t that you liked Bucky Barnes. He was infuriating, overly serious, deeply confusing, and didn’t know how to share snacks. But he was also reliable, frustratingly observant, and lately, the look he gave you when you smiled, like you were the only one in the room, made your brain short-circuit.

You thought about it again later that night when Steve roped the two of you into a debrief on a rooftop overlooking the city. The mission had been a success, barely. You’d both walked away with bruises, dust in your hair, and a couple of near-death moments. Typical.

Steve cleared his throat when neither of you said anything.

“So, I just wanted to say… the teamwork is improving. Kind of.”

Bucky grunted. You didn’t look up from your seat on the low concrete ledge.

“But,” Steve added, crossing his arms, “I’d also like to point out that the Tower can’t afford another prank incident involving electrical rewiring, sparklers, and… what was it last time? A taxidermy raccoon?”

You smiled faintly. “He started it.”

“She painted my arm pink,” Bucky said flatly, leaning beside you.

“It was fuchsia,” You corrected. “Tasteful fuchsia.”

Steve exhaled like a parent trying very hard not to ground both his kids.

“…Just- figure it out, okay?” He said, before leaving the rooftop with a muttered “I miss the days when people just punched each other.”

You sat in silence for a while, watching the city lights flicker in the distance.

“You okay?” Bucky asked after a beat.

You nodded, then tilted your head toward him. “You?”

He shrugged. “Tired. Still sore.”

You leaned back on your palms, glancing up at the stars. “Nat thinks we’re flirting.”

He scoffed. “Is that what this is?”

“God, I hope not. I’d hate to be attracted to someone who uses the phrase ‘back in my day.’”

He glanced sideways, something sharp flickering into something soft in his eyes. “You’d miss me.”

You looked at him. Really looked.

“…Yeah,” You admitted, barely above a whisper. “Maybe so.”

There was a pause. Just long enough to shift the air. Then, he bumped your shoulder with his.

“Don’t tell Clint. He’ll never shut up about it.”

You smirked, your voice quieter this time. “Don’t worry. This never happened.”

-

Things changed during your next mission together. It wasn’t supposed to be a high-stakes adventure. A simple recovery op in a half-abandoned research facility on the outskirts of Prague. The intel said light security and no hostiles. Which of course meant it immediately went sideways.

You were cornered behind a crumbling wall with Bucky beside you, bullets chewing up stone, and the mission blown to hell. Your heart thundered in your chest, breathing ragged, but your mind was laser-focused until you caught a glance at Bucky’s face.

Blood streamed down from his temple. Again. The same spot as last time. You hated how that made your stomach twist.

“I told you to watch your six,” You snapped, crouching low to reload.

“I did!” He snapped back.

You shoved a fresh mag into your weapon and glared at him. “You are a human disaster.”

“And you’re a walking magnet for trouble.”

“Funny, coming from the guy with five knives hidden in his boot and a death wish.”

Another round of gunfire rang out closer this time. You both ducked instinctively, his body shielding yours without a word as he pulled you into a room to hide. You froze, just for a second, with his shoulder brushing yours and the warm pressure of his hand steadying you behind your ribs.

Your eyes met. The world blurred around the edges.

Something cracked.

The space between you wasn’t wide, wasn’t safe. It had been pulled tighter and tighter through months of snark, bruises, bullet wounds, glitter bombs, and unspoken care. And now it felt like the only logical conclusion was combustion.

“This is insane,” You muttered, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

“Yeah,” He agreed, still close to you. “We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

You looked at him, seeing the blood at his temple, the sharp lines of frustration, the flicker of something else entirely under his words. You saw everything that had gone unspoken.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. Or the fear. Or maybe you were just done pretending. But whatever the reason, you surged forward.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was frantic and rough and tasted like dirt, smoke, and months of unresolved tension. You grabbed the front of his suit; he pulled you closer like he’d been waiting for this since your first argument over coffee. The world was still burning around you, but for a second, it didn’t matter.

When you pulled back, breathless and stunned, he stared at you like he’d been hit by something harder than any punch he’d ever taken.

“That was…” He started.

“Shut up,” You said. “Don’t ruin it.”

He blinked, then huffed a laugh, the real kind. Warm and sharp and barely hidden behind years of practiced scowling. “Took you long enough.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I kissed you.”

He smirked. “Right. That’s why my knees went weak.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks flushed despite the danger. “We still have to get out of here alive.”

Bucky’s smile softened just enough to make your chest ache. “Then let’s finish this. Fast. So I can do that again properly.”

You reloaded, nodded, and moved out together, side by side, like always.

Only now, everything had changed.

The Tower was quiet when you got back. Mission was technically successful with the intel secured, the bodies left behind, and the bruises already starting to bloom beneath your jacket. You showered, changed, limped a little too dramatically down the hall, and did the most responsible thing you could think of: you avoided Bucky Barnes.

You didn’t mean to. But after the kiss, your entire nervous system had gone haywire. You weren’t used to him being real with that warm, rough voice in your ear when he said he wanted to do it again. It’d been easier when he was just a rival, a nuisance, a sarcasm-laced headache wrapped in leather and trauma.

Now he was something else. Someone who kissed you like you were gravity itself.

So you hid.

He gave you a full twelve hours.

You were in the common room the next morning, pretending to read a mission report, but mostly just sipping lukewarm coffee and staring into the distance like a haunted Victorian widow. Until the door opened.

You didn’t need to look up. The energy shifted immediately. You felt him walk in, heard his boots heavy, and presence heavier. You took another slow sip of your coffee.

“You’re sulking,” He said from across the room.

“I’m not.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I avoid a lot of things,” You replied. “Dentists. Feelings. You’re not special.”

He stepped closer, the weight of him familiar now in a way that made your skin feel too tight. “So the kiss didn’t happen?”

You closed the file and set it aside, keeping your tone carefully casual. “Adrenaline makes people do weird things.”

“Right,” He said, voice dry. “So next time we’re in a life-or-death situation, I should expect you to confess your love to Steve or kiss a vending machine.”

You looked up sharply. “I don’t love anyone.”

He tilted his head. “Didn’t say you did.”

You hated him a little in that moment, not really, not at all but enough to scowl and mutter, “Why are you even here?”

“Because I don’t want that to be something we pretend didn’t happen.”

Your breath caught. He sat across from you, elbows on his knees, expression unusually open. Honest in a way that made your stomach twist.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” He began. “You drive me crazy. You’re reckless and loud and allergic to sitting still. But I’ve never met anyone who makes me laugh the way you do. Or who I’d trust to watch my back in a fight. Or who’d glue my knife belt to the ceiling and still patch me up afterward.”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He leaned forward, gentler now. “I meant it. When I said I wanted to kiss you again.”

You stared at him. Then down at your coffee, then back at him.

“…This doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop putting glitter in your boots,” You said finally.

He smirked. “Wouldn’t expect you to.”

You hesitated. Then sighed and leaned across the table, grabbing his shirt collar and tugging him into a kiss, softer this time. Slower. No adrenaline, no smoke. Just you and him, in the quiet.

When you pulled back, you grinned faintly. “You really are kind of obsessed with me.”

He exhaled a laugh. “Yeah. I really am.”

-

BONUS:

By the end of the week, everyone knew.

You thought you were being subtle. A few quiet looks, the occasional shoulder bump in the hallway, a shared smirk during mission briefings. But Avengers Tower was a den of spies, assassins, super-soldiers, and gossip. You had no chance.

The first to say something out loud was Clint.

You walked into the kitchen one morning, bleary-eyed and in desperate need of caffeine, only to find Clint already there, sipping from his mug. He glanced up, looked from you to Bucky trailing in behind you with his usual scowl and morning hair, and just grinned.

“Oh,” He said, like a man who had just confirmed a winning bet. “You two finally stopped fake-hating each other?”

You reached past him for a mug, unbothered. “We still hate each other. Just with tongue now.”

Clint snorted so hard he spilled his coffee. “Jesus.”

Bucky, behind you, didn’t say a word, just patted Clint on the back as he passed, expression entirely neutral. Clint looked personally betrayed.

Later that day, Natasha cornered you in the elevator.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned back against the mirrored wall, arms crossed, and gaze sharp. You kept your eyes on the floor numbers.

Finally, she said, “I had fifty bucks on you being the one to kiss him first.”

You blinked. “There were bets?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Please. There were charts. Steve ran the bracket.”

“…Steve?!”

Speaking of Steve, he found you both in the training room a few days later, sparring in what could only be described as borderline flirt-fighting. You’d just knocked Bucky on his ass (with some help from gravity and a well-timed insult), and were grinning down at him when Steve cleared his throat.

Bucky didn’t move. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Steve said, holding up his hands. “I’m just impressed. You made it a whole six months before punching each other turned into making out.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the one who made us partners.”

He looked at you both, sweaty, bruised, smiling like idiots, then sighed. “You’re each other’s problem now. Don’t drag me into it.”

Sam was the worst. Every time you walked into a room, he’d do the voice.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the Tower’s resident enemies-to-lovers plotline.”

One time, you and Bucky entered the kitchen holding hands. Sam immediately stood and slow-clapped.

Bucky just turned around and walked back out.

Tony? He didn’t even blink. Just tossed you a keycard to one of the private Tower suites and said, “Soundproofed. You’re welcome. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t ruin the common couch.”

And Bruce…

Bruce looked up from his tablet one afternoon and said casually, “So when’s the wedding?”

You choked on your water while Bucky left the room.

Eventually, you stopped pretending.

You still bickered like cats in a sack. You still pranked each other with glitter bombs, hair dye in shampoo bottles, or emotionally incriminating Spotify playlists over the Tower speakers. But now there were quiet moments too. An arm around your waist on late nights. Soft smiles when one of you thought the other wasn’t looking. Kisses stolen between missions, sometimes bloody, sometimes breathless.

The whole team may have seen it coming before either of you did. But in the end, no one could deny it:

You and Bucky were still frenemies.

Just… now with benefits, bruises, and a whole lot more trouble for anyone who got between you.

[rafesbowbunny]

𝜗𝜚 you and rafe had never gotten along, but one plane ride changed it all

c!w; mdni !! reader is sassy lol, mean dom!rafe, kinda dom!reader a bit, degradation, rough hate sex lol, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, lotta dirty talk, slight size kink as per usual.

notes; i mostly write a shyer reader or established relationship sooo this is kinda outta my comfort zone a little ! i hope you enjoy ! ALSO this is kinda longggggg

you loathed rafe cameron. he was the embodiment of everything you hated about entitled kook assholes that didn't deserve their privilege, there was unfortunately a plethora of them, he would be their king.

how did you have the displeasure of knowing rafe cameron? well your father and his worked very closely for years, building an empire upon which both your dad and ward sat atop on.

you could admit that you too were definitely privileged, absolutely spoiled even, but you would definitely argue that you were raised right in comparison to the people in which you shared a zip code with.

you and rafe had gotten acquainted not only through just being at the same high school prior to graduating, but also because your dad and ward enjoyed hosting a little too much. there were many a party where you had to take care of drunk rafe because you couldn't stand disappointing your father, even though rafe wasn't your responsibility.

it was only recently that ward and your father had been taking you to their big office tower, showing you and rafe the ropes. seeing as you were both the first born children, you were to inherit and become the heads of the empire your fathers had cultivated.

you always thought about how there's no way rafe would ever rise to such a responsibility.

it was a cold autumn day when you and rafe had been called to join your fathers for another day of learning, you two were technically already apart of the company having graduated from high school, but you were still learning.

unfortunately for you, ward had decided you two would join them at the office tower in atlanta, meaning you had to sit on a plane alone with rafe.

you were dreading the hour flight as the uber pulled up to the landing strip. the two of you had been silent the entire car ride, thankfully the feeling of hatred was neutral so you never had to worry about rafe bothering you, but his existence was enough anyway.

you hopped out of the uber, grabbed your overnight bag and headed up the steps of the private jet.

the two of you sat adjacent to each other, rafe with his signature smirk adorning his lips, he knew you were hating every minute of this. the plane hadn't even moved yet, something about the pilot being late.

"where the fuck is this pilot." rafe grumbled, you ground your teeth and glared at him before turning back to look outside.

rafe began tapping his foot impatiently before walking into the flight attendant quarters, emerging from behind the curtain with a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

your jaw ticked in annoyance, of course he wouldn't offer you a glass, typical. you couldn't hold back the words, they were falling off the tip of your tongue, "you could offer a glass at least." you growled, crossing your leg over the other.

rafe's gaze tore off of the over filled glass in front of him and onto your legs, you were wearing a form fitting pair of grey pinstripe pants as well as a tight long button up shirt, it was driving rafe crazy. he rolled his eyes and took a big gulp of the drink, it burning smoothly down his throat.

"asshole." you muttered, getting up to get yourself a gin and tonic instead, it was too early in the day for whiskey anyway. rafe watched your ass as you disappeared into behind the curtain, twitching his nose in annoyance about how hot he found you. you came back with a drink in hand, making sure to glare at him a little before sitting down.

the pilot finally arrived, walking up onto the plane and apologising as he walked past the two of you, rafe shook his head at the ground, "we've been fuckin' waiting, you think we have time t'wait like this?" he spat, the pilot simply apologised again and scurried off to the cockpit, rafe muttered something about talking to his father as he did.

you shook your head a little at rafe, brow slightly furrowed, of course he had to treat everyone around him like shit. the plane finally began moving, zooming down the airstrip before finally taking off into the air. you started fiddling with your pen as the two of you sat in silence before dropping it on the floor, it rolled down the passage way as the plane was still gaining height and you sighed heavily.

after the aircraft had finally levelled out, you got up and walked over to pick up your pen, bending your back all the way down. rafe's jaw ticked as he stared at you, he knew you had to be teasing him at this point.

"slut" he mumbled as you walked over to go sit back down, you paused and turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. "what was that?"

his eyes met yours and he took a long sip of whiskey before repeating himself, spelling the word out to you like you were a toddler. you scoffed at him and rolled your eyes, shaking your head, you'd been called a slut before for simply just looking the way you look.

"fuckin' walking around, bending over in those pants.. 'nd that tight top, seriously y/n?" he said, clearly and to your face now. you were stunned at the way he dared to talk to you, even more stunned when you noticed he was sporting a little something below the belt of his dress pants.

he rolled his sleeves up, a tick you noticed he had a long time ago, before taking another swig of whiskey. you tried not to stare but ultimately you couldn't deny that one of the other main reasons you hated rafe so much had to do with the fact that he was such an asshole, but such a fine asshole.

you never knew you had such a thing for veins until you started sneaking looks at rafe every time he was bothered enough to roll his sleeves up.

you stopped. "fuck off rafe, i can wear what i want. it's not like i'm wearing anything revealing, i mean, just because you got hard-"

he quickly stood up, his gaze piercing and heart stopping, you didn't even trail off from your sentence, just completely shut up. "think you can fuckin'-" he inched closer and closer, you backed up until you found yourself stopped against another chair, "think y'can talk to me like that? hmm?" the two of you were centimetres away from touching noses, you could feel his hot breath on your face as he glared down at you. jesus, you forgot how tall he was, even when you're wearing heels.

you gained the confidence to snap at him lowly, "you can't just be calling me a slut rafe." your chest was rapidly rising and falling, rafe noticed the way your tits were moving as you breathed. he scoffed, having no shame in looking right down your top, "hard to say something like that when you're standing here with your tits on display like this." he met your eyes again, his once angry expression replaced with a smirk.

he tugged at his sleeves again, readjusting one that had slipped down, you looked down at the veins trailing from his hands that disappeared into the white shirt.

"y/n." he said, calm dripping from his tone, you realised you had been staring too long, heat pooling in your tummy currently couldn't compare to the heat rushing into your cheeks. "i catch you every time y'know."

your lips parted, every time? "what're you talking about." you demanded with narrowing eyes, crossing your arms in what little room you had, only making your tits perk up more, he shamelessly shifted his gaze down again until you lifted a hand to grab his jaw, something that shocked him and he instantly grabbed your wrist and paused.

the two of you were stood there, lips centimetres away, touching felt like fire between you and the look in both of your eyes was all the confirmation the two of you needed.

rafe's grip slipped only to replant his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. your hands slipped up his chest desperately, much to your embarrassment, but you could feel his body shudder at your touch. you both wanted this. badly.

his other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you in tightly, you melted into him, weakening over how good his touch felt. he started then tugging your shirt, trying to undo the buttons, you helped him quickly before slipping it off and starting on his shirt.

rafe now had you under him, down to nothing but your panties, even your bra was somewhere on the floor, rafe in just some boxers. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed his growing boner against your sensitive clit.

he slipped a hand down your body, his fingers landing on your sopping panties as he began to rub circles where you were most sensitive. you twitched under his touch and you could feel the cocky smirk as he kissed you. in a second it had gone from his fingers inside you to his dick now rubbing through your folds, rafe didn't have his chest against you anymore, he was watching as your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for him.

he scoffed, "i knew you were a fuckin' slut." just as you rolled your eyes, he slipped his fat tip in, now having to bully the rest of his huge cock into your tight pussy. "jesus, shit, how're you this fuckin' tight" he groaned, finally sliding his length in to the hilt.

you gasped when he brushed that spongey spot in your cervix, "yeah? you like that shit bitch?" he grunted, now mercilessly driving his cock into you at an unforgivable speed. your eyes were rolling back, twitching as you hadn't even had a second to get used to his length.

"ugh fuck- move 'm getting on top" you demanded, he didn't argue, swapping spots with you so that you were now just above his dick, pulling your panties to the side again as you very slowly lowered onto his thick cock. he whined out, eyes going wide when he realised what he just let slip.

"who's the slut now?" you taunted, beginning to bounce on his dick, your tits bouncing with you. rafe reached up and pawed at one, rolling your nipple between his fingers harshly, you hissed but soon whined at the added stimulation. he grinned mischievously, releasing you nipple to lower his fingers to your clit.

he watched you proudly, rubbing in circles for a moment while your eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. he pinched your clit, you yelped at the feeling but the way your pussy started clenching around rafe's dick only made him do it more.

your movements grew tired, rafe noticed and planted his hands under your thighs, securing you before slamming his cock into you at a rapid pace. all you could do was go almost limp, feeling his huge dick pistoning deep inside you. "my dick's splittin' you open. you fuckin' like that shit?" his hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every movement.

you grabbed onto a veiny arm, the sight making you chew at your lower lip as rafe continued to jackhammer into your begging cunt. "ugh- you're such a fucking piece of shit, its a shame, your dick is soo big." you groaned, digging your nails into his forearm. he smirked at your admission, repositioning himself to now sit up so your faces were inches away again.

he moved his hands to your hips, gripping harshly, you slid your arms around to the back of his shoulders, beginning to bounce and grind again. he tipped his head back letting a little "oh baby" slip.

you grinned as you were nearing your release, your pussy beginning to clamp desperately around rafe's dick, his strokes getting sloppy and harsher. his hands dug harder into your hips as you raked your nails across his back, your orgasm ripping through you finally and rafe cumming inside you just as it was ending.

you buried your face in the crook of his neck as he continued to fuck his cum into you, an evil smirk swiping across his face. when the two of you had finally steadied, reality hit like a truck.

you paused, lifting your head slowly, the two of you locked eyes and you quickly slipped off of him, taking several steps back.

"you- shit. no one can fucking know." you seethed before snatching your clothes off the floor, cursing at the fact that you were going to have to sit in cum filled panties until you could get your bigger suitcase from under the plane.

rafe scoffed, "i'm not the only one who was fucking there. and for the record i agree, this is not happening again. fuck."

but of course he was lying.

[lenacosse]

hello! can you please write tangerine x reader where he and his wife are working on the same mission without knowing it. she has ladybug as her usual partner and they have to pretend to be husband and wife. at some point, ladybug and tangerine are fighting and since ladybug wants a break from it, he’s like « wait, my wife’s coming » and when tangerine turns around its actually HIS wife

What?

pairing: tangerine x reader

cw: violence, strong language

word count: 3,842

(laughing cause this turned into the whole movie, obviously not cannon accurate but i had so much fun writing this)

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"Alright that's me," you say as you zip your suitcase, you were going out to Japan to work on a mission with Ladybug. Tangerine did not know where you were actually going, when you first started dating you didn't tell him your job because it was too dangerous and you didn't want to scare him away and when things got serious between you both you were too scared to tell him because you didn't want to jeopardise things between you both so you fabricated a seamless lie about your occupation and he didn't suspect a thing.

"Same here," replies Tangerine. You walk towards him and put on hand on his bicep the other on the side of his neck, his hands go to your waist.

"Try not to miss me too much," you tease, a playful smirk forming at the corners of your mouth.

"Same can be said for you love." Tangerine winks, you roll your eyes and lean forwards. You press your lips to his and you share a passionate kiss, one that'll leave you longing for more later on when you lay awake thinking of him.

══════════════════

You arrive in Japan and instantly the whole new world amazes you, Japan was truly impressively innovative and futuristic. But you weren't here to enjoy the culture, you had a very simple mission to do, retrieve something from a train with Ladybug, what could possibly go wrong?

Ladybug answers the call from your operator for the mission, you're both given your code names. You got given Kitty- slightly humiliating you thought but you've had worse.

"Kitty?!" Ladybug complains, "I see you're playing favourites." He says to your operator.

"Oh I'd never," she responds. "Oh and also, you two are a newly wed adventurous couple who are on their honeymoon."

"Are they also complete losers?" You ask.

"indefinitely."

You both get to the train station which is bouncing with life, you walk alongside Ladybug who is talking with the operator about why exactly you two had been picked for the job, something about someone dropping out sick maybe? You weren't really listening.

"Shit." Ladybug says.

"Shit what?" You respond with a sigh, it was always something going wrong.

"I think I lost the key back there, some guy bumped into me."

"I'll get into it, what's the locker number."

"523." Replied the operator.

You get into the locker whilst Ladybug still talks about Carver, you do nothing but roll your eyes at how much he cares he wasn't a top priority for the mission. You gather the items in the locker, the pair of you put in your ear pieces and pack the little bag. You had no idea why half of the things were necessary but it really didn't matter, you were sure time would tell. There was a gun in there, which you wanted to take but your partner was on a no killing strike and wanted to become more peaceful, you thought that was ridiculous considering your jobs but his therapist had been filling his head with nonsense.

"Ladybug!" You grab his attention, ending his useless conversation. "The train.. it's about to leave."

"Oh. Let's go."

The two of you quickly shove your way onto the train, it was a very close call. Immediately you were impressed by your surrounding's, the train, even economy was borderline luxury.

"This place is nice," says Ladybug, nodding his head approvingly.

"Agreed." You respond, you both make your way down the train whilst your operator informs you both of the trains different compartments. Then she tells you what it is you're retrieving. A silver briefcase with a sticker on the handle.

"Briefcase owners are not simple to take from." Ladybug states.

"Can't say I've much experience stealing briefcases." You reply.

"The owners should be in economy class,"

"Owners? Plural. God I knew we should have taken the gun, fuck you and your therapist Ladybug." You tut.

"I was choosing spiritual enlightenment, besides there's two of us, two, hopefully, of them. We'll be fine."

You just sigh in response, the two of you continue walking where you're met with the ticket collector. You look to Ladybug who was the one in charge of the tickets, the prolonged pocket search told you everything you needed to know. You sigh once again pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Shit I think I dropped our tickets with the key,"

"Great! Fucking brilliant."

Another pocket search and Ladybug finds the receipt which the man reluctantly accepts.

"The takeaway from that is from now on I will hold onto important things, got it?"

"Fine by me." Ladybug concludes.

You both continue your walk through economy where you heard an all too familiar voice, the man who you just walked past sounded exactly like your husband. However you didn't see his face because Ladybug was blocking him, nevertheless there was no way it was him, he was on a business trip in London. Immediately that thought leaves your mind as you and Ladybug get to the luggage, you scan over the different bags.

"There's no fucking way were finding this," Ladybug scowls.

"Just did." You reply and grab the case careful of causing attention.

"Great work Kitty,"

"Hm, what's the catch?" You reply, things felt too easy.

"Just get off the train."

You both oblige and Ladybug attempts to conceal the case in his jacket, you would argue that it would only bring suspicion but your only focus was to exit. You both make your way through the different compartments again, your heart was thumping and you felt uneasy, but persevered until you stand at a door to exit.

"Ahh look, maybe my luck has increased," Ladybug says triumphally.

"God I hope so." You respond.

The train slows down and the door opens, on the other side is a very angry looking man with curly hair, a neck tattoo and a white suit. Who is looking at you with a look so intense it makes your skin crawl. Before you know it he is lunging at you and Ladybug with a knife in his hand, you gasp as he stabs Ladybug. The two of them fall back onto a glass door, shattering it and falling to the ground. But as he removes the knife it's revealed that he just got his phone, you sigh in relief and walk into the room they fell into as Ladybug stands up.

"You stabbed me?!" Cries Ladybug, it's a mere second until he lunges at him again. You watch as they fight, you look for a weapon.

You smash a champagne bottle over his head and at the same time Ladybug kicks him, making him stumble back. The comical fight between them continues, the man reveals his motive, something about you two being responsible for his wives death, which is ridiculous because it wasn't true. The man throws his knife at Ladybug who holds the briefcase up for protection, however the knife bounces back and hits the man right in the heart, killing him almost instantly.

"Well, so much for no killing." You say, as you take the knife from his chest and wipe it clean on his jacket. You put it in your pocket for later.

You help Ladybug clean up as you both attempt to figure out who he is with no luck you give up and you set him up on the seat eating a packet of nuts. Hopefully to distract from the fact he was dead, better than nothing you thought.

You and Ladybug split up, your job is to find a table and sit there for when he finds the owners of the briefcase. All the operator knew was that they were twins. Soon Ladybug comes to sit with you, telling you about how the twins aren't actually twins and how he just fought one in the quiet car.

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, we just have to get the case and leave."

"I can't just walk off they know what I look like."

"Well then, I'll get the case you try get off and I'll get past with the case, look at me no one will suspect me. You know this is a very sexist industry, but as of now it has its advantages."

You leave the other way of the train to make it back to retrieve the case whilst Lady bug works on finding a way to exit the train. You go to the place where you stashed the case, you however quickly learn it is no longer there.

"Fuck! For fuck sake. Stupid fucks must've got to it." You rant on as you practically tear apart the room looking for the case. And much to your dismay it is absolutely nowhere to be seen. You pace back and fourth trying to rack your brain on what to do- it was your only upper hand that the twins didn't know of your existence so you couldn't blow that by trying to retrieve the case of off them, you also didn't know what they looked like. Just as you're pacing you get a text message, it was from Ladybug.

'need ur help. i'm cornered.'

You sigh in dismay, but you knew you had to go and help Ladybug with this. So you work your way down the train, checking everywhere for your partner. You hear struggle in the distance so you knew you were getting closer, you brace yourself to walk in.

"Gotcha now, there's no way you're escaping you slithery bastard. Give me the case and you walk away untouched."

"For the last time we don't have the case."

"Yes you fucking do cause I ain't got it."

"Stop. My wife is coming, I don't want her to see this."

"Your wife? What sad sack is married to you."

"She's actually really hot I'll have you know." You walk in as Ladybug says that, you mentally gag.

You freeze on the spot as you see the back of the man fighting Ladybug. For some reason his hair was identical to your husband's hair, the height and build was also the same. But no... you were definitely wrong and simply overthinking. That is until he turned around and you swore you heart stopped momentarily.

"What the fuck?!!" Tangerine says.

You just stare at him as he stares at you, you had absolutely no idea what the fuck to do. How on earth has this happened? Ladybug looks between the two of you, the confusion plastered over his face.

"That's my wife. Not yours." Tangerine says, the expression on his face is unreadable, he didn't look angry.. but he wasn't happy to see you that's for sure.

Ladybug just starts laughing, clearly he doesn't believe it. But he soon stops once neither of you laugh with him. "Wait.. is this true?"

"Yes." You reply.

"You're married to this geezer?!" Tangerine says, he looked like he was going to kill someone, his fists were clenched and his breathing was quick. You couldn't help but let fear wash over you.

"No obviously not- we're on a mission." You sigh trying to find the words to explain yourself.

"I'm so fucking confused right now." Ladybug says, you glare at him and he quickly shuts up.

You lean against the counter and run your hands through your hair, Tangerine just stares at you and you get a proper look at him. He was roughed up, splattered with blood and messy hair. In any other context you'd be drooling over him.

"You're working with him to get the case?" Tangerine questions, crossing his arms.

"...yes," you awkwardly pick your nails, this whole situation was throwing you off, it felt weird between you and Tan now considering basically your whole marriage was a lie. Looking at him you wondered what else you didn't know.

"You lied to me." Tangerine walks closer to you.

"You lied to me." You narrow your eyes at him, standing up straight you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Well this is fucking weird," Ladybug says, you and Tan in sync tell him to shut up, and he does.

"We can talk about this later, I need that case." You say.

"No. You're not leaving my side, there's someone else running around here, I can't have anything happening to you."

A sense of relief washes over you as you learn he doesn't completely hate you anymore. Maybe your marriage wouldn't go to crap, but there was absolutely no way you'd be staying by his side like some helpless victim.

"No. I need the case, I can protect myself. And I will, I don't need you to hold my hand."

"(Y/N).." Tan starts.

"No." He just nods in response and passes you his gun, you take it and put it into your pocket, the air is filled with deadly silence. That is until Lemon walks in.

"There you are... oh (Y/N)." Lemon says, he stops dead in his tracks and does a take back. "(Y/N)?!" His face drops and he sends an alarming look to Tangerine who just shakes his head in response.

"What the fuck?!" You look between the two men, you truly couldn't be more taken aback.

Lemon nervously laughs. "Are you enjoying Japan? We had a change of plans, you know work is so unpredictable these days." He looks to Tangerine for help, he just runs his hand over his face whilst sighing.

"She knows everything and she's working with this dickhead." He points to Ladybug who just raises his hand.

"Right... well um great," Lemon falters you found it funny how confused he was, he never was great in awkward situations.

"Okay this was interesting but we've got places to be, come on Kitty."

You take one final glance at your husband who looks extremely stumped and Lemon who just looks puzzled, you weren't sure how the rest of this mission would go but you just knew you couldn't wait for it to be over.

You leave with Ladybug to go find the case again and leave the train, you knew Tangerine would be fine so you felt confident in your decision to leave him. Besides you had a mission to carry out and that you were going to do.

"How come I didn't know you were married?"

You sigh. "Because it is private information, I didn't want to put him in danger."

"He seems lovely.." Ladybug says, the sarcasm dripping off his words.

"He is lovely, you don't know him."

"Neither do you- he's an assassin and you had no idea."

"Shut up. We just need to get the case and get off this stupid fucking train."

You both make it to the first class longue and there the case is, back in its original spot. "That was not there when I looked." You furrowed your brows.

"You mustn't've looked properly."

"I fucking did, ripped the whole place apart."

Before you knew it you were in yet another fight, the Hornet lunged at you making you fall onto the table, you hit her over the head with the case allowing you to get up. It was a messy fight, arms and legs flying around. But here you are with a venomous needle inching towards you throat, you flip her onto her back and pry the needle out of her hand. You inject it into her neck and watch her face drop.

"Being killed by your own methods, that's dark." You watch as blood pours out of her eyes and her throat starts to close over, her struggled gasping and choking fills the area. You get up and watch as she dies, withering in pain.

"Fuck that was close." Ladybug sighs.

"Come on, we need to go."

The two of you make your way back through the train and down to economy. That's where you see Tangerine standing pointing a gun at a girl in pink with a bob. His expression is devasting yet full of a rage you've never seen in your life, it makes your stomach drop. Something has happened. You quicken your pace, Tangerine sees you and lowers the gun.

"What happened?" You ask, he looked borderline psychotic.

"Lemon, she." He points the gun at her, "killed Lemon."

You face drops and you look back to Ladybug.

"He's lying! Please help me, please." The girl pleads. You turn to her and punch her square in the face, knocking her back into the chairs. You punch her again in the throat, the move makes her blackout and you turn back to your husband.

"Fuck this job we need to get off this train."

Ladybug grabs the case and you three walk back the opposite way, ready to exist. Your mind is fuzzy and your head hurts, there's no way Lemon is dead, that reality devasts you. Lemon was like a brother to you, it broke your heart knowing things would never be the same. As you walk out of the train Ladybug doesn't follow you and Tangerine.

"Ladybug?" You look back to see him struggling against the girl in pink. "For fuck sake!"

"Just leave him, come on."

"No. I can't leave him. We need to help him." You walk back onto the train, Tangerine following you.

With much struggle you get the girl in pink on the ground, using zip ties you found in her bag you tie her hands together and force her into the seat. The four of you sit waiting for the next stop. No one uttering a word. A man comes to sit at the table next to you four, he immediately recognises the girl, she tells him his son is dead, his grandson next, yet he was one step ahead of her, so she sits useless and defeated, a look of triumph overcomes you, you wanted nothing more than to slit her throat but you knew she would have later value, so you leave her sitting there wallowing in her stupidity.

The man tells you all his story, you pick up on his wisdom, feeling nothing but trust towards him. So when he tells you all to follow him- bar the girl, you do. He takes you to the bathroom where his son, and Lemon lay. His son turns out is not dead and reaches for his father. Your eyes fixate on Lemon, unlike Tangerine who is leaning against the wall beside the bathroom. Your heart thumps as Lemon somehow yawns? His eyes open and he looks around, extremely confused.

"Am I in hell?" He questions.

"Oh my god!" You gasp, you turn to Tangerine who instantly stands behind you looking at Lemon.

He rips open his shirt, showing his bullet proof vest, where bullets sat, things were piecing together but you were extremely confused as to what exactly happened.

"Oh.. you drank the water." Concludes Ladybug.

"Water? What water?" Tangerine asks, looking to your partner.

"The water spiked with sleeping powder."

All of you go to sit, awaiting the next stop.

"I can't believe you're an assassin." Lemon says. As he sits opposite you.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," You shrug.

"We need to get off this bastarding train, no more being held back." Tangerine says, you could tell he wasn't half with it. None of you were but he was right.

"We need a plan," Ladybug says. You all agree, and the elder comes up with roles for each of you to properly execute the plan.

You go with Lemon to try and control the trains route, Tangerine goes with Ladybug to hand in the case and cause a distraction whilst the elder goes to take on the white death, something dramatic he said about getting his revenge.

"Fuck it's all in Japanese. There was no Thomas episodes in Japanese." Lemon scowls.

"It's fine, we'll figure it out." You respond trying to be optimistic.

"Okay, we just have to slow this down. Fucking stupid thing! Fucking slow down." Lemon curses.

"So far so good." Ladybug says as he approaches you both, "you can stop the train."

"We don't know how to fucking work this shit!" You groan trying to suppress your frustration.

Lemon and Ladybug go back and fourth, you head hurts from listening to them. Suddenly two men come through the door shooting their guns, you all duck down to shield yourselves from the bullets. You and Lemon lunge at the men, taking them down whilst leaving Ladybug to stop the train. One of the men had you up against the wall, hand over you throat choking you, you felt the life slowly draining your body and with every passing second you become more and more weak. You watch Lemon trying to take down two other men, he doesn't know you're being straggled. Just as you are about to accept your fate, Tangerine comes in, knocking the man to the ground and shooting him in the head. You gasp for air your fingers gently caressing your tender throat, Tangerine is instantly at you.

"Are you okay love?"

You nod and he strokes your cheek, a great sense of comfort overrides you, then he and goes to help Lemon take down the other two men. Whilst they do that Ladybug finally figures out how to stop the train. Or so you thought, the manual book flies out the window and the train collides with the one in front, you all grip onto something. Another two men make their way up to the driving cart, which you all in a group effort defeat. Ladybug starts pulling out all sorts of wires which make the slow down and ride right into a wall, sending you all flying forward through the train as it destructs its way through a village. You land laying on a patch of dirt, Tangerine beside you. You heard a gunshot and jump up, you see The White Dead dead with his brains blown.

You two make your way over to where Ladybug, the elder and his son are, not even two minutes later the girl in pink comes with a machine gun, talking about her fate and luck, which doesn't last long before she's hit with a moving vehicle.

"What the fuck..?" You sigh, you look to Tangerine who looks just as puzzled as you. Ladybug goes off with Maria your handler who came to get you both, you decided to stay with Tangerine and the two of you go to find Lemon.

"Can't believe I didn't realise you were an assassin. Seems so obvious now." Tangerine says, taking your hand.

"Yeah well I didn't notice either, besides. I think I'm done with it, today was too messy."

Tangerine nods in agreement, you both find Lemon who turns out was driving the truck that hit the girl. The three of you decide to go home, of course Lemon didn't rest until he found out the ins and outs of your work. You were relieved to know everything Tangerine had ever told you- besides obviously his job was true. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

[melminli]

my boy - by billie eilish

pairing: young coriolanus x fem. reader

summery - he ain't a man and sure as hell ain't honest

word count: 2.5k

contains: angst, slightly dark themes, possessiv but soft coryo, politician coryo, talk about pregnancy and marriage, alcohol consumption

a/n: i have many songs that i think r just so coryo coded, so i thought i would choose one and write something about it. this one is just so him like, every lyric fits him perfectly

You sometimes wondered if there really had been a time when you had truly loved Coriolanus Snow. You didn't want to doubt that you didn't anymore, but the fact that you had any doubts at all said more than you wanted to admit to yourself.

"Don't you want to get dressed?" The voice of the person you were thinking about asked you. As his Fiancée, you should definitely not think about such things. You turned your attention to him and saw him standing in front of the mirror, buttoning the buttons of his expensive waistcoat.

You noticed he was about to tie his black tie next as he reached for it, and you stood up to stop him so you could do it for him. It always looked a little messy when he tied it himself. "I thought maybe I'd stay home this time. I'm a bit tired." You said, concentrating on doing a neat job, even though you probably could do it with your eyes closed by now. Perhaps the reason was more that you were trying to avoid his gaze and also his silence.

He said something back to you as you were pulling the tie tighter around his neck. "I think you should get dressed." Was all he said and ended the discussion with a few words like he always did. It would look bad if I turned up without my fiancée. Though, at the same time - I really need something pretty to look at if I want to get through the evening.

You just sighed softly as Coriolanus walked past you to fix his hair. I think I'd better wear a matching dress then. You went to your closet to look for a black dress and it should be very easy for you to find something suitable since you had a dress for every occasion. Especially since you and Coriolanus had had started to be invited regularly to galas and events.

But you just weren't in the mood. Whatever, this should be fine. You finally decided on one and put it on. However, you had a little trouble zipping up the back, though luckily, your fiancé returned the favor and helped you out. After he finished, he watched your figure in front of the mirror and gave you a gentle kiss on the back of your neck while holding you in his arms. "There you go, my dear, you look beautiful. You should also wear the pearl jewelry I bought you, they would look good on you."

You leaned back into his arms. "Good on me, or good on the wealthy impression you want to give others." You said, already knowing the answer. Coriolanu's gaze sharpened slightly at your words. He didn't like it when you got sassy with him - no matter to what extent. It seemed to be one of your traits that were hard to get rid of, but he hoped that perhaps with time, you would learn to watch your tongue more. I don't think so, but a man can still hope. At least it's not as bad as it used to be.

"Pollux will be there." He announced and sat down on the armchair next to your dressing table while he watched you make yourself pretty for him. One of the reasons why it was there. "But I would argue that one doesn't exclude the other." He came back to your earlier statement.

So, that's what this is about. The name Pollux was not necessarily associated with positive things in your household. Ever since Coriolanus had started getting involved in politics around Panem, the two of them were considered arch enemies, one could say. Both very charming men with sweet words who also each hid a poisonous dagger behind their fake smiles so they could take the other out at the slightest mistake.

"I can't stand that fucking bastard." Coriolanus complained, grimacing as he thought about his face. "If I have to listen to him make one more pun with his name, I'll shoot myself and everyone in the room. Just because your name means crown doesn't mean you're going to get it stupid asshole. I really fucking hate that guy."

Your fiancé rarely swore, at least that's how it used to be. He thought it was bad manners and therefore never did it in public, but well, maybe you secretly just wished that he would show his best side in your presence too and not just to stupid important people.

It didn't suit him. Well, at least from your point of view, it always sounded a bit strange and kind off forced to hear him swear when he hadn't done it for so long. Like he was trying to imitate someone. "You're sounding more and more like your father." You said quietly to yourself, averting your gaze from his hate-filled eyes.

That seemed to cheer him up. "Well, thank you, my dear. Didn't realize you knew so much about him." He said and became curious. He couldn't remember telling you about him. He certainly mentioned him a couple times, but not that much that you could draw that comparison.

It wasn't a compliment. You opened the bottom drawer to pull out the box of pearl earrings and necklace after you finished doing your hair. "I don't know that much. Tigris has only told me a few things from time to time, and that's it."

He hummed as he just shook off his right sleeve a little to look at his watch. "Did she." he replied with his head somewhere else as he abruptly changed the subject to be able to talk about his own interests. "Don't take too long. The Avox should have the car ready by now, and I want to leave soon." He announced and stood up from his seat. He took the necklace from your hand and placed it on your free neck before gracefully pulling the clasp. "What did I tell you, hm? Like a pretty princess." He said in good humor and gently held you by the chin to place a kiss on your lips. My pretty princess. All that's missing is her lonely tower. "I'll go down and see if everything is all right. Just come down when you're ready."

You tried to stay in a good mood too. "Okay, Coriolanus. I'll be right there." you told him, leaving his casual mention of your staff unmentioned. You got tired of talking about how your heart got heavy when you saw the silent workers.

At least you can treat them well while they are working us. Trust me, others would not grant them such luxury. With us, they are better off than most. After all, there is a reason why they are in the position they are now. What kind of luxury? Treating them like ordinary people should not be treated as such, and yet he was right once again. They would be worse off somewhere else, so you should be able to suck it up and do your best to at least give them the dignity of looking them in the eye and enduring their silent nature. After all, they had to do the same.

That's probably what he likes the most about them. You thought to yourself and were pretty sure that your fiancé would approve if you said just as little - to just open your mouth to say what he liked to hear, like a bird that he only let sing when it was his favorite song. Wouldn't he like that? Of course he would. Well, if he wants a quiet good girl then he can fuck off.

"You know, I noticed how you don't really call me Coryo anymore." He briefly stated and left open how he interpreted this.

You continued with your make-up. "Hm? Well, I think it just suits you better now, dear. You're not the same boy you used to be."

He begs to differ. "Don't be like that. I haven't changed that much. I'm still the same Coryo you fell in love with all those years ago." He laughed as he said goodbye to you with one last kiss on your head before leaving the room.

You just sat there with a heavy heart in your lonely room while staring at your silhouette in the mirror. That's what I've been trying to convince myself lately, too.

Thank goodness there's alcohol at these events. As someone who was born and raised in the Capitol and also came from a wealthy family, you were no stranger to popular events.

However, you definitely liked them more when they were considered parties and not some lame adult gathering. You'd give anything to hear the booming music from big speakers now while a few crazy, very drunk people hit the dance floor. It was chaotic, but at least it was real - people weren't hiding behind their pretty dresses and fake smiles like they are now. Whatever, you can't stop getting older, I guess. Maybe it would take a few more years for the Capitol to figure out a way around that, too, but by the time they did, it would have already lost its value.

You started listening again when your name was mentioned. "Now that you're engaged, I suppose the wedding isn't far off, huh?" Mrs. Valentius laughed merrily. If you remembered correctly, she was the wife of the man who had won some important literary prize or something last year. "And we all know that when marriage is near, children are not far away."

You laughed with her, albeit very uncomfortably. I'm not going to elaborate on that. You took another sip of your drink and saw how you just had a little bit left, same goes with your patience, too. I need more of both.

Your eyes looked up again when Coriolanus put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his side. "Of course. The preparations are a little stressful even if they are going well, but who knows, maybe the first one will be there on our big day. What do you say, my dear?" He replied in your place with his disgustingly charming smile. I think I would like it if she was pregnant with my child on the day of the wedding. Would just have to make a few alterations to her dress, but that can easily be arranged.

Yes, you definitely needed a new drink. "Let's see, Coriolanus. Like you said, things are stressful enough right now, and I'm sure you don't want me to be any harder to handle than I already am, huh?" You joked around and laughed with the couple in front of you. I can't believe what kind of shit I'm saying about myself, but those are the only jokes these two douchebags are laughing at, and I really don't want to talk about this subject anymore. "I'm going to go and freshen up, if that's all right with you." You excuse yourself and make your way to the toilets, but not without grabbing a glass from a tray of a walking waiter.

You shut the door behind you and finally felt like you could breathe properly again since you were no longer surrounded by all these people. Could be worse. We didn't meet Pollux and his wife yet, but it's still pretty bad. "Oh, this is a nightmare." You said, leaning your arms on the sink. "Why don't you tell them when we're fucking so they know that the baby is in the making, huh? Ugh, since when did it become normal to get so personal?" You complained and swallowed the contents of your glass in one gulp, feeling it burn in your throat. It felt good.

You wanted to give yourself a few minutes alone to clear your head and come out re-energized, but the more time you spent in the room, the less you wanted to leave. You preferred to hear the voices muffled through the door, but this thought was interrupted when it opened, and you tried to act unruffled for a moment until you realized who was coming in. "Coriolanus? What are you doing here?" You asked nervously as you watched him enter. "This is a ladies' room, you can't be here!" You whispered aggressively as you stepped closer to him and saw him turn the lock behind his back. I should have fucking done that. My head is all fuzzy.

His eyebrows drew together in slight irritation. "Your breath reeks of alcohol. You've had too much to drink." He stated, making a mental note to pay more attention to your consumption next time so it wouldn't happen again. He ignored your earlier statement and continued. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick, or why have you been in here so long?" He asked you, slightly concerned, rubbing your arms as you seemed quite drunk

"No, I'm fine." You replied stubbornly, a little annoyed and couldn't quite find the right words, so you just said the first thing that came into your mind. "I just didn't like all this baby talk."

He hummed and continued to speak to you in a calm tone since you seemed upset. "Well, you know I want kids." He said, trying to be a little more understanding. "But I get why you would find it a bit intrusive. Don't let them get to you. That's just the way these people are." He finished, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Maybe, but that's not the way you have to be. You didn't expect him to apologize for his behavior, but it still didn't hurt any less. "I suppose you're right." You just whispered, trying not to get too emotional under the intoxication.

But you didn't manage to hide it from him. "Oh, my dear. Are you really that upset about it?" Your fiancé cooed as he saw you holding back from bursting into tears. He put his index finger to your chin and lifted your face so you couldn't hide from him. His lips moved to the spot where the first tear fell and left a soft kiss there. "You're too cute. It's really too bad that we still have to wait. A baby would certainly stop the questions, wouldn't it?" He asked you sweetly as he stroked your cheek thoughtfully and lied through his pearly white teeth. "A real shame it is. You should freshen up, I think we can leave a little early tonight since you're not feeling so well."

You just hated that he looked so pretty doing it.

[conceptofjoy]

Hi I don't understand what you mean with the jake code posting, can you explain what you mean? I am SO close to getting it but my brain refuses to understand

ok so forgive me for not being able to pull every source for what im gonna say, because theres like. a lot lol. so jake's role as The Supreme Father Abraxas, parallel to LE and scratch simultaneously is symbolically represented by both his green and white colors.

lets start with this earlier panel as a baseline. jade sleeps while her bed post transmits data for her awake dreambot to act out/execute tasks

this formula is switched up through out the comic a ton, but focusing on jake (and dirk), there is a lot of confusing ways this manifests.

you can see the same language is used in "the prince is awake. your shit is wrecked/the brobot is awake and active".

where dirk receives information from varies, but it all ultimately funnels in from AR's suggestion for the executable Dirk: Talk to alien. he then gets pointers from callie to listen to the outer gods which then leads to all that happening. brobot "zombie(s) the fuck out" when jake smashes his shades in the flash, so where is his input coming from?

fast forward to when jake gets knocked the fuck out. peep the way the glasses part of jake's computer is a dead 8 ball black and the bed posts aren't on. ok why the fuck did brobot zip off. sure it's a dream, but AR didn't exist then and- "No offense but I kind of get the same smartass vibe from you as i do from the responder." oh okay.

one more thing.

blue team derse, and red team prospit. while jade is green, her dreaming self is ALSO a representation of the bedpost. when her dream self dies, her dreambot explodes (same shit with aradia). jake's dream self is dead, but dirk's dream self is blue. brain ghost dirk is red and is also jake's proxy dream self. which is an insane thing to say. this also explains why hal and bgd have an overlap of knowledge they shouldn't be able to know about, and bgd's ability to become alpha dirk when dirk becomes unconscious. <i could elaborate on that some other time

WHY THE FUCK IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE. jake's green. he's an empty (page) punch card that can be filled with any lines of code to be made into something else.

in the void, everyone has white eyes, parallel to hussie's white eyes. the void is made up of dream bubbles that remix everyone's experiences and becomes stages for the dead to create what they want. JAKE on the other hand, can just do that shit within the story, overwriting everyone's fucking authority when he's doped up on hope. he can do literally anything as long as he manifests it by narrating it, and has the conviction to do so. but within homestuck, he takes preexisting code he's able to get transmitted to him (bgd), and runs it through his own terminal (himself)

[moonstarrr]

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Chapter 3- Fate

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Disclaimer: I DO NOT consent to my work being shared on any other website or platform. Likes,Re-blogs and comments are welcome <3. I also do not own any of the pictures used credits go to the rightful owners.

Pairings: OC! Black Women X Roman Reigns

Warnings: Just some cussing

Summary: Amina is trying to be strong in her choices concerning her fiancé, Roman. However, is she willing to stick to those choices or will her emotions take over.

The thoughts and feelings of complexity,regret, and wonder filled Amina’s mind.

“Why did I even suggest this?” She thought to herself. Amina felt like she had made the dumbest mistake in her life. Of course she didn’t forgive Roman although is crossed her mind quite frequently, she still didn’t have an answer for him nor did she feel obligated to give him an answer. As soon as she got the text ‘when and where’

She wanted to leave it up to him not being really in the mood to go look for somewhere to eat if she was already being the one to suggest her and Roman having a conversation.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do Amina, I mean it’s kind of soon” Bri asked her , while helping her zip up the back of her dress.

The reason for her dressing up wasn’t much of a suprise for her nor was it a favor for him. Of course, he chose a fancy restaurant with a very important dress code and she wasn’t willing to waste an opportunity to dress up.

“Girl I’m not even sure but I know one thing if he thinks this is a ticket for us to get back together he has a next things coming “ Amina said with boldness . She looks at herself in the mirror doing some last touches on her makeup and adding on some last pieces of jewelry.

Bri let out a laugh looking at Amina in awe and disbelief, “But Amina I know you’re saying that you dressing up not in his favor but let’s be serious you really think you’re gonna be able to hold off on him”. Amina turned her neck quickly looking at her friend, scoffing

“ Bri I’m doing this for me not for him, and his little bullshit games to try and make me fall again we haven’t spoken yet and I’m not up for his petty mind games. I know him and he knows me. End of story “ Amina said not stuttering once. Although she did wonder how long she would even be able to resist him.

Bri put her hands up and in defeat shaking her head being loss for words so much that she wasn’t even able to give a rebuttal. Amina turned back to look at herself in the mirror, took a deep breath and just stared at herself for a moment.

She was really doing this.

Amina turned off the bathroom light and grabbed her black heels and headed out the living room and ordered her uber . Roman offered to pick her up but she instantly refused. She didn’t want to see him or have any contact with him before the dinner.

After about 8 minutes, the notification of her uber ride arriving lit up her phone screen. She quickly grabbed her bag and walked out of the apartment calling out to Bri to let her know that she was leaving before fully closing the door. She got into the Black Escalade and gave the driver her name to make sure that she was getting into the right car. It was about a 25 minute drive to get to the restaurant. Looking out the window to try and get her thoughts in order , thinking about how she’s gonna act,what’s she’s gonna say, what he’s gonna say, and where will there fate lie.

Once she arrived she got out slowly walked inside. Not even having to turn her head she locked eyes with him. There he was in a well ironed black suit. Hair up in his classic bun and watch shining in the big overhead dim lights. She was taken a back as she admired him in all his glory not forgetting to admit to herself in her mind for only her to hear that he looked so damn handsome.

Not breaking a word with each other he started walking towards a table and she followed behind him. He pulled a chair out for him, it shocked her that he still had chivalry, considering everything that happened. She took a seat and placed her Chanel shoulder bag on her lap. She took a sip of the water not breaking a word . The tension was strong, almost too strong for Amina to handle.She looked down at the soft white table cloth covering the table and focusing on the noise around her. Just as she’s about to take another sip of water as she feels his eyes not loving off of her.

“Mina” he said calmly in his deep rough voice.

She slightly jumped hearing the nickname that he always called her again. She looked at him slowly.

“Where’s your ring?” He asked looking up from her left hand to her face. She took it off, she felt like it was pointless wearing it if he was obviously doing other things.

“I took it off , why would you think I would keep it on Roman” she asked, her voice filling with annoyance at the stupid question.

He let out a slight chuckle rubbing his hand up and down her face.

“Listen Mina, I wanted you to come here so we can talk I don’t want to argue with you” he said , Amina didn’t respond she just nodded her head.

“All I want and need you to do Roman is to explain why you would do this to me and why the hell do you expect me to keep on a ring that obviously meant nothing to you”she said sternly. She wanted to make it very clear to him that she wasn’t for all the small talk .

He sat back in his chair with this nonchalant look on his face. Amina raised her brow wondering how it was possible for him to sit so comfortably.

“Amina, you know damn well that I love you but”.. he said trailing off

“But what Roman, but what?” She asked quickly cutting him off”

“Let me speak Amina, I got caught up and with me getting caught up I didn’t consider you like I was supposed too, as my fiancé, my best friend” He said finally looking at her again. She scoffed loudly, slightly laughing to herself in pure disbelief .

“ First off that’s a cheap ass excuse me. Isn’t amazing that I was engaged too you, known you since we were juniors in high school, been with you through thick and fucking thin and I would have never ever cheated on you” She said leaning forward in her seat. Amina wanted to make sure her words hit him like a strike in his chest. After all the embarrassment and pain she took from him she wanted him to have his share as well.

“Amina wait..” he was quickly trying to spit out but she wasted no time in cutting him off.

“Also, I don’t know who told you that this engagement was still on because as far as I’m concerned it’s done . When your ass went out there and cheated on me in public you couldn’t have possibly expect that this would still be on” Amina said with confidence. Although, it took her a while to get back to that point she refused to have him break it down again.

Roman looked at her in pure confusion at her statement. In his mind this was still on.

“Hold up Amina, why would you want to just throw this away . We can work through this” He said annoyance slightly tracing his voice. She held up her hands trying to stop him

“Nope. I’m done you only get one chance with me and we are done here im going home. I wish you the best with whoever you’re gonna sleep with next” Amina grabbed her bag and placed it on her shoulder and got up out of her chair and started to walk towards the door. As soon as she got up Roman got up with her following close behind. He wasn’t willing to drop it just like that.

As she got outside and was about to turn she felt the strong pair of hands grab her forearm causing her to stop immediately. She turned around , stunned to see Roman,her ex- fiancé. She didn’t think he would come running after her.

“Let me g-“ Amina said, but Roman cut her off this time

“Amina please don’t do this . You and I both know that we don’t want to end this just yet” He said with a softened look in his eyes. She stared back at him unable to look away or even find the words to respond.

“Amina we still have so much to talk about and you know it. We’ve known each other for too long to just let go of what we have” He said with his hand now trailing to the side of her face to push he hair behind her ear.

She stared at him still unable to form words for a split second. As she was about to respond she felt his lips on hers and his hands moving up her back . Amina placed one hand on his chest and the next on the back of his head .She tried her best not to fall more into it but it was impossible because she still loved him.

[lutiaskokopelli]

I have an issue with constantly getting distracted, so I got distracted from working by making a 100% customizable Pomodoro App to keep my future self from getting distracted. Have a Google Drive download link.

The Pomodoro technique, if you don't know it, is a discipline method for keeping track of when you are working and when you are taking breaks, notably through the use of a timer.

There are tons of apps centered around this, and yet after looking at so many of them, I somehow could not find one that would do the most basic thing I'd like to have for a study companion: change the background of the app so that yes, I do have a timer telling me to work harder, but I also have an image of my choice to cheer me up along with it.

So what did I do? Did I take the rational, reasonable path, to just suck it up and stick to one of the already existing apps even though it would mean saying no to having my adorable Hearthian OC sleep in a corner of my screen?

Or did I go the hyperfocused insane route of utter procrastination and learn a whole new programmation language from scratch just in order to get my frikkin baby to comfort me while I work?

Yeah, who could have guessed.

So! The Google Drive link I shared will let you download everything you need in order to run your own version of this little app, including a tutorial on how to customize it to suit your needs.

The first thing you will see after unzipping the archive is this:

The "ast" folder (standing for "assets") contains every image used by the app -- which means that you can change them as you please! I even gave you transparent versions of the buttons in the "Asset Creation Help" subfolder, in case you like the shapes but want to change the backgrounds.

You think that's cool? Oh, but the image assets are far from being the only thing you can change for this app's behavior! You can change EVERYTHING that this app is doing (which isn't much because it's literally just three different types of timers, and even then there are some trickier details with more coding than others (but I still give tips on how to handle those), but shush. Everything this app can do, you can customize to your heart's content).

How do you do that? Well, this is what you get when you right-click on the "Pomodoro.ps1" file:

The Pomodoro.ps1 file is the "app" itself, written in PowerShell code that I made as legible as I could make it. There is a whole tutorial in there, made easier to read if you right-click on this file's icon and choose the "Edit" option. Have a preview!

Through editing this file, you can then run a Pomodoro app from which you can have the window's appearance customized, from its size, opacity (if you want to still half-see what's sitting behind it), and start position on your screen (the window can be dragged around, but if you have a preferred position you can tell the app to always load it in that preferred spot right from the get go), to stuff like the custom messages you get whenever the timer progresses:

So, yeah. I made a little app meant to help with productivity. One out of many already out there, sure, and it's probably not as cool as many others (but I'll just remind you that three days ago I knew absolutely nothing about PowerShell as a whole, so- I guess that would be still a little impressive that I was able to make a working app like that at all? xD), but as far as I've looked, it's the only one that will let you have your favorite images keep you company while you use it.

I don't know whether anyone other than me will like it enough to use it, but just in case, it's here! Hope it's as easy(-ish) to customize as I made it out to be, or at least close enough.

PS: The version I use for my own personal choices uses some slightly different assets compared to the version I share in the .zip file on my Google Drive. This is because the version I share online solely uses official Outer Wilds art (while the version I made for myself notably uses one piece of OW fanart that I did not make myself, and it didn't sit right with me to share that piece uncredited, even in an edited form. If you are curious, this is the artwork in question).

[maggplays]

Hello: Shadows and Starlight (Stardew Valley fanfic?)

My first attempt at writing out what I see in my head when creating dialogue for my mods, basically a short story. Maybe a fanfic? I have no idea, I've never written one of those. So for fun, here's Sebastian meeting Raven (my farmer OC) for the first time, written from each character's perspective. A quick read, about 1,200 words. If there's interest, I'll write more of these. Let the adorable awkwardness begin!

You can also read it on AO3 here: Hello: Perspectives

Sebastian/fem farmer (Raven OC), mild language

Raven

Relief washes over me, I’m so glad Robin understands what I’m talking about and seems genuinely excited to help. I had no idea what I’d be walking into when I inherited the farm, it’s been abandoned for decades, left to the wildlife and natural decay. The house structure stands intact, but is overgrown by vines and moss, calling it a shack would be generous. All the outbuildings were reduced to piles of moldy lumber and stone long ago, even the greenhouse in ruins. Robin was obviously embarrassed by the state of the place when she first met me at the farm gate, and is willing to do whatever I need to clean it up, but repairing a decrepit farm requires resources. A lot of resources. And money. 

Robin closes her catalogue with a smile and nod, it will take me some time to gather everything she needs to repair the house and build a chicken coop. I return her smile but feel a sinking sensation in my gut. Moving here was not the most well-planned of adventures, and an earlier run-in with a total jerk on his way to the saloon and a red-haired girl who seemed terrified of me did nothing to boost my confidence. -sigh- I suppose I’ll head back to my drafty excuse for a home, maybe stop by the saloon for a ginger ale on the way. Head down, I step around the corner directly into a pair of boots. Black leather with heavy soles, buckles across the instep… jeans, also black, the fabric thin at the knees, but clean… a dark hoodie, zipped, hands shoved firmly in the pockets… frayed hoodie strings leading up to chin-length hair, dark, well-kept… then… gray. Blue-gray, slate, the color of the sea before a storm or the sky at dusk just as the blue is fading away. 

Blink.

Air rushes into my lungs, I must have been holding my breath… oh god, I hope I wasn’t staring long, though it might have been forever. “Hi… you must be the new farmer…” a soft, low voice touches my ears, a sound that perfectly matches the velvety gray eyes. My lips twitch into a smile, I can’t help it even though I look like a fool. 

“Yeah, I’m Raven. I just moved here, but you obviously already know that. Robin was showing me her catalogue and all the buildings I’ll need for the farm, it’s sure going to be a lot of work. I had no idea how run-down the place was before I got here…” Stop, stop talking… please stop… My brain is pleading with my mouth to shut up, but once I’ve started, there’s not much to be done but wait until the words run out. Heat prickles my neck, rising to my cheeks, this is ridiculous. It’s not like I haven’t found a man attractive before.

“I’m Sebastian… sorry, I forgot you have no idea who I am. Robin’s my mom.” Sebastian glances away for a moment, then back, he looks like a shadow caught in the light, wanting to melt back into the dark but unsure how to escape. “I’ll let you go… n-nice to meet you,” his voice wavers with uncertainty, the low resonance gentle in my ears, then fading away. I realize I’m blocking his path and quickly step aside, watching as he moves, disappearing down the hall. I suck in a breath and turn back toward the door, catching a glimpse of Robin as I step over the threshold, her eyes wide with a look of pleasant surprise. As I close the door behind me, I smile to myself. I won’t be leaving this place any time soon.

Sebastian

Thank god this project is nearly done, debugging the code has been nothing but mind numbing tedium for the past three days. And I’m starved, must have forgotten breakfast. Again. I reach over my head and back, stretching the cramped and complaining muscles in my shoulders. I really need to remember to stretch more. Maybe I’ll walk out to the lake, might as well grab my boots just in case. Watching my feet, I open the door and start trudging up the stairs from my basement bedroom… honestly, I prefer living in the basement, I get a bigger room that way and it stays cooler in the summer heat. Quieter too, and I can stay out of sight for the most part. Two… three… four… I unconsciously track the number of stairs, an old habit with no real purpose. 

As the toe of my boot scrapes the next step, I freeze… did I hear voices? Wait… that’s not Abby, is it? I really don’t want to deal with her drama right now. Six… seven… eight… It’s a female voice, definitely not Sam… doesn’t sound familiar. Must be someone from out of town with a project for Mom. That’s good, she was just saying she wanted more work. Ten… eleven… twelve… The voices have stopped, the woman must have left. Fourteen… fifteen… shoes. Work boots, sturdy with heavy stitching… what… why? I look up and meet a pair of eyes, bright emerald with flecks of gold framed by wind-blown waves of deep reddish-brown hair. Green eyes blink and she gasps slightly, did I step on her toe? No, but I am standing very close. Wait, she was here first. I think. I should say something… Uh, crap… “Hi… you must be the new farmer…” the words are out before I can think. Shit. Obviously she’s the new farmer. I forgot she would be coming over to talk to Mom about the buildings. Idiot. 

I force myself to look back, she’s smiling… god, she has a great smile. Aren’t farmers supposed to be weathered and tired? This girl… her skin is bright with freckles sprinkled over her cheekbones, the breeze from the open front door lifts her hair a bit and light glints off the gold flecks in her eyes like stars in a field of green. The cool air prickles against my hot skin. “Yeah, I’m Raven. I just moved here, but you obviously already know that. Robin was showing me her catalogue and all the buildings I’ll need for the farm…” Her voice is bright but not sharp, fresh and shimmering like a brook on a warm spring day. I just listen to her talk, torn, wanting to escape but captivated by the vision in front of me. She stops talking and tilts her head, her eyes spark, cheeks slightly pink. Oh hell, I forgot to tell her my name. 

“I’m Sebastian… sorry, I forgot you have no idea who I am. Robin’s my mom.” That was awkward. Story of my life I guess. She steps aside, I attempt a smile before I flee toward the kitchen. If Sam ever finds out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. But… I hope I see her again. Maybe next time I can speak a coherent sentence. Something to make her smile, even laugh. Raven. 

“Oh, Sebby! Can I talk to you for a minute?” Mom’s voice snaps me back to the present… crap… wonder if I can make it back to the stairs before she corners me… 

[hevexns-realm]

Boys Fashion headcanons in my ✨AU with no name✨

Sonic: Y2K inspired style, may not be exactly how it is back in the day, but it’s pretty damn close! Tank tops, baggy jeans, Air Forces, and sometimes brings a boom box with him. For the more feminine style, arm and leg warmers, multiple belts and jelly bracelets, and yes, a fur hat. However, it’s synthetic and the only one he owns. It’s actually a gift from amy!

Shadow: he’s usually going to be wearing some kind of biker-esque style. Leather boots, slightly baggy Jeans, fluffy leather coat, etc. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wear other styles outside of missions. Particularly more gothic attire, and even a few good drag queen looks too! (Headcannon I saw on here and I’m running with it-)

Silver: hm.. I honestly say the soft boy aesthetic from 2020-2021 would suit him when he’s not on missions! Soft sweatshirts, a good pair of white slacks, and maybe some white sneakers too! Add a cute satchel and we’re good to go! ^^

Knuckles: same as sonic, but just the masculine parts. Baggy jeans, tank top or short sleeved shirts, and some of his tribe’s jewelry and other accessories to match with the outfit!

Tails: I’d say the steampunk look would suit him best, after all, he’s a mechanic and an engineer! It makes sense why he’d prefer something like steampunk! (Simplified or not is up to you!)

Mephiles: My personal favorite of these headcanons so far. Anything Princey and gothic? He will give it a try! However, goth academia and goth ouji seem to be his favorites! Lots of intricate and beautiful lace, black slacks, masculine corsets, and a cute black and purple parasol to match! (I’ve had this headcanon for a hot minute!)

Scourge: We all know that he has this punk-like style with the leather jacket and sunglasses, but I wanna add onto it! Baggy jeans with sewn on decals from his adventures, a few tattoos, and usually no shirt, to show off his scar. However, if the place does require a shirt, he just either zips up his jacket or wears a white T-shirt.. he probably won’t be happy about it though! ^^||

Nazo: hm.. this is actually a tough one, as I didn’t really think about his general wardrobe. However, I feel like he’d have something for just about every occasion. Something simple and year-round like button up shirts and slacks or dark jeans. Because you can do a lot of styling with those alone, like add on a waistcoat and a suit jacket over the shoulders, and some simple, yet classy gold jewelry!

Seelkadoom: Now, you think that it’d be easy to give seelkadoom a hybrid style between shadow and sonic! Well, you’re half right. While that’s his base style of leather jackets and boots mixed with some jeans, the man fluctuates his style like his customers do with alcohol at the casino he works at! Not to mention work dress codes as well!

King (my OC): he’s kind of the same as nazo, but instead of more quiet luxury, he’s wearing more brand names. Like gucci T-shirts, Louis Vuitton jackets with their LV logo on it, Nike sweatpants, etc. He also sometimes wear those cheap looking $200+ cosplays you see on the internet. He mainly does this to get girls’ attention, but yeah. He’s basically all about being on trends and finding things to turn into trends, whether the others like it or not.

Girls will be next, sound off your headcanoned styles in the comments/reblogs! 🖤

[julieverne]

Infinity goes both ways (and so do we)

Angela was exhausted and filthy when they got back to the cabin. Kirk was gone, but they'd saved Dani, somehow. Angela was all instinct and somehow she'd been right. Brennan couldn't explain it, couldn't account for it.

Booth said goodnight and went back to the hotel. Neither of them noticed, worn down by the long days of anxiety.

Angela hadn't cried. She sat on a chair, a boot still on one foot, as though she'd given up partway through removing them. Brennan removed hers and knelt by Angela, undoing the buckles and zips and laces. Her khaki pants were red with dirt, her white tank sweaty and dusty too.

She was gorgeous.

Brennan knew this intellectually but she'd never noticed it so viscerally before. Exhausted, grieving, filthy, her hand resting on Brennan's skull and digging in under her hair to rub her scalp, then the back of her head, her neck, where she held her tension.

Brennan closed her eyes and rested her head against Angela's knee for a moment, felling small and safe and loved. She knew that if she'd gone missing in the desert Angela would have fallen rather than leave the red dirt alone.

"What do you need?" Brennan asked finally, Angela's fingers gently stroking through her hair.

"A shower," Angela groaned. "No, a bubble bath, but I'll settle for a shower."

"You did good work today," Brennan told her. "You saved a life all on your own."

"I wasn't on my own," Angela said mysteriously, then discarded her filthy tank top. She stood and shucked off her pants; the cabin was close quarters, but even so.

Brennan looked away and stood.

"How much water is there?" Brennan asked practically.

"I'll be quick," Angela said, but it wasn't the answer Brennan had been looking for.

---

Angela was quick, and she dressed in the same kind of clothes when she came out - a white tank (clean) and soft exercise type pants, the stretchy kind that clung to her hips.

Brennan licked her lips and looked away.

---

Angela was curled on the folded out bed when Brendan came out. She watched Brennan dress with a blank face, and it scared her. Angela was always so expressive. Brennan sat next to her and reached out tentatively, resting her hand on Angela's back.

"What do you need?" Brennan asked softly. Angela rolled over to face her, and Brennan's hand ended up, somehow, on Angela's breast.

It was soft, beneath the thin cotton. Angela hadn't noticed so Brennan moved her hand down to Angela's ribs.

"What are you offering?" Angela asked, her voice low and serious.

"What do you need?" Brennan asked again, and Angela sat up slowly, considering Brennan like a piece of art. She traced the line of Brennan's jaw with her finger, then the curve of Brennan's lips, meeting Brennan's eyes.

There was desolation there, grief and regret. But there was also respect and love and something else, something intense.

"What are you offering?" Angela asked again, and this time Brennan understood.

She understood what Angela needed.

She closed the distance between them quickly, kissing Angela, who had soft lips and tasted nice.

"I want to forget," Angela mumbled against Brennan's throat. "I want to feel safe and loved."

"I don't know if I can manage that," Brennan said dubiously, but Angela chuckled.

"You already do," Angela told her, her eyes soft and gentle laughing at her. Not in mockery, but out of affection.

"Oh."

It was slow, slower than Brennan would have expected if she'd expected this. Angela was so impulsive and passionate, but she took her time with Brennan. Brennan wasn't used to so much attention; men typically sought one thing from her but Angela wanted everything, gave everything. Without cotton in the way, her breasts were even softer, even nicer.

Brennan had never considered herself as gay or even bisexual. She had trouble relating to or forming connections with women. With men, once she could prove she was mentally superior, she'd won. But with women there was an underlying unspoken code, something Brennan couldn't read or fit into.

Angela had never tried to make her fit. She'd taken Brennan at face value, but she'd always seen so far beneath too.

Brennan had liked other women's bodies, but not enough to engage in social niceties with them for long enough to get access to them.

Angela kissed her again, her teeth finding Brennan's lip and tugging it gently before her mouth dropped to Brennan's throat, making her moan, caressing Angela's breast.

"You don't..." Angela pulled back, flushed and breathless. Her temperature was slightly raised, and her nipples were hard, her breasts plump with bytracked blood. "You don't have to. I'll be okay. If you don't want to, I know you don't like women."

"I don't like women," Brennan admitted. "But I also like men. I like you."

"I like you too," Angela said shyly, half-baked in lamplight, her dark skin almost glowing. Brennan kissed her first this time, reached for Angela's pants, laughing as Angela struggled out of them. Angela huffed and reached for Brennan's track pants, pulling them off in one practiced move.

From there it was easy. Brennan found she had instincts of her own, and enough time to analyse Angela's body to find multiple ways to satisfy her. Skin against skin, and Angela's skin was so soft and luxurious, her hips and torso deliciously padded, nothing hard or harsh about her. Just soft kisses, soft bodies, soft touching. Angela ran her fingers through Brennan's hair as she lowered her mouth to the warmest part of her, and Angela made eye contact right as Brennan made contact too, the look in her eyes almost overwhelming with affection.

"You're crying," Angela accused her later. Brennan wanted to deny it but when she touched her cheeks they were wet.

"So are you," Brennan pointed out, and she kissed a tear away from Angela's cheek.

"I always cry when something beautiful happens," Angela said lowly, but she let herself be held against Brennan, let herself sob against Brennan's bare chest while she coddled her the way she wished she'd been held and loved as a child, always too afraid to ask. Angela had done the same for her, without asking what Brennan had needed, and Brennan wouldn't have expected to need this.

It had been welcome, and it had been beautiful, and she loved Angela with everything she had within that could love.

But she wasn't in love with her. She had no romantic feelings for her; she loved her exactly as she was, as a friend, as a lover she'd taken once.

"You're lovely. Thank you." Angela nuzzled into Brennan, her body warm and comforting where it lay over Brennan. Brennan never stayed the night, but this was different. It wasn't just sex, and it felt like there were no expectations for a relationship. It was just them, comforting each other after a very hard day.

Brennan dated infrequently and didn't get attached. She was attached to Angela in a different way. Angela was the same but opposite; she dated frequently but remained unattached. She let her fingers trail over Angela's skin - so soft and smooth, so dark against her own, so gorgeous in the lamplight. It was like they were at an impasse, at a crossroads. Brennan couldn't lose Angela. She needed her too much. She loved her too much.

But that was a problem for the morning.

---

When Brennan woke, Angela was propped on one elbow, looking down at her.

Angela stroked her cheek and leaned down to kiss her, none of the passion of last night, just a gentle tenderness and affection that made Brennan ache in ways she hadn't the night before. In her chest.

"Amazing as that was - and it was amazing -"

"I know," Brennan said shortly, because she knew all the reasons why they wouldn't work, and she'd only just realised some part of her wanted this to work. "We're friends."

"Sweetie..."

"I know. I agree."

"Okay," Angela said, but she kissed Brennan again, all soft and slow like she meant it, like she loved Brennan without reservation. "I don't think I've ever felt so safe as I did last night. I trust you completely."

Brennan brooded for a moment.

"I feel safe with you too," she said, not meeting Angela's eyes but still catching the heartbreaking compassion that lived there behind them. "I have to get back to DC, and it's not that I mind anyone knowing about this, or that I'd be against doing it again under less tragic circumstances, but Booth will be insufferable if he even suspects..."

"He's already insufferable," Angela laughed, but she retrieved their strewn clothes and tugged on her own. "Thank you," Angela said finally. "You were just what I needed."

[cwritesfiction]

get to know only extremely unimportant things about me tag

@sleepyowlwrites created this magnificent set of questions (I want to see your answers, too. Also @byjillianmaria you should do this. I want to know your cough drop situation.)

what does your bed comforter look like?

My bed comforter is dark gray. The other side of the bed? A second dark gray comforter, and also a weighted blanket, and also a fuzzy blanket, and also a sheet, and also

do you have cough drops in your house?

I have so, so many cough drops in my house. Fun fact: The first time I answered this, I accidentally wrote "in my mouth," so I feel like I should say I have 0 cough drops in my mouth right now

on a scale of 1-18, how likely are you to accidentally park father away from the grocery store than you meant to?

Solid 9. Most of the time I will try to take a close spot, but about 50% of the time, the spirit moves me, and by "moves me" I mean moves my car into an illogical parking space for no reason

when it comes to outerwear, is practicality or style more important?

In my heart, I want to be the most fuckable person at the grocery store. In my reality, practicality wins every time, because my black weatherproof jacket (with detachable inner layer and inner zipped up pocket for Stuff) is where it's at

do you collect medicine in your room when you're sick and then just, like, never put it away?

No, I collect medicine on the kitchen counter when I'm sick and then just, like, never put it away

have you ever seen some berries of some sort out in the wild and decided that you needed to photo them so they looked like blood?

No, but my yard did look like an off-colored bloodbath when the berries fell off the trees and into the snow

did you check the same book out of the library/read the same book over and over despite your dad or somebody being like "other books exist you know"?

Graciously, no one ever noticed how often I re-read books as a kid

is there an environment in which everyone there has a different nickname for you?

writeblr?

what animal did you fear would spontaneously manifest in your bedroom and eat you? actual belief in said fear not required.

You know, this question raises a different question: are ghosts animals? They were once human, right? And humans are animals? When do you lose animal status, anyway, my answer is ghosts

was there a thing that you were unfortunately really good at as a kid that set you up to go into hard "gifted kid" burnout while still being a kid?

Not exactly, but a similar flavor: I was a strong reader as a kid, which made people assume I'd be strong at All School Things, so when I struggled in math I didn't even consider that I could ask for help, so instead I developed wild coping mechanisms to hide the fact that I didn't know what was going on

I couldn't do mental math until I started playing D&D in my 20s

you know you have to eat some fruit some time, so what do you buy the next time you drag yourself to walmart or wherever?

I ate an orange today! I also like apples and will sometimes slice them up and have a lil' apple 'n peanut butter snack. Berries: also good. Pineapple and mango if they're fresh. Oh!! Grapes!!!

are you maybe a teensy bit obsessed with code names?

I am not!

what's your favorite word to refer to a personage who is capable of using magic?

First reaction was "mage" but i'm not sure why that is

gloves or mittens or glittens?

I rock a pair of knitted fingerless gloves

are you a sibling or are you an only child who happens to have siblings or are you an only child who has liminal space siblings?

I am a sibling!

does your edgelord have a name or are you not on speaking terms?

When my anxiety acts up, I will say "Calm down, edgelord" to myself and that usually helps

do you actually wear your favorite piece of clothing?

I don't know if I have one favorite but I will occasionally buy a shirt and think, "Oh yeah, I'm wearing this to death." (My favorite sneakers get worn on a regular rotation)

bookends. a cool accessory or something that is preventing more books from fitting on your shelves?

yes

please rate this tag as if it were a super duper indie flick on imdb.

An unpredictable journey from end to end, get to know only extremely unimportant things about me tag brings a fresh take to tag games to the Tumblr ecosphere.

[auxiliarydetective]

↬ OC Verse Trading Cards

Here it is! The reason (well, one of the reasons) for why I've been so inactive lately. I saw this super cool trading card template by @squea and @buttertrait and thought it was super fun, so I wanted to make something similar for my mutuals and myself. And, as you can see, I rediscovered my love for art deco on the way, so it's very art deco lol

You can find the template to make your own cards here - and I explicitly encourage you to make your own, because I was kinda hoping I would get to see cards of you guys' OCs and we could collect them all in a binder like this one. It would be really fun! (The number next to the name is the power level btw - I wanted to imitate a set of Star Wars trading cards I used to collect as a kid) Make sure to @ me when you do and tag your post with #ocversetradingcards!

I tried to make the template as accessible as possible so that even beginners should be able to use it without any issues. So, I color-coded the layers!

The red layers are ones you shouldn't touch. They make up the main frame of the card. The orange layers are ones where you can play around with the colors, but that's for advanced photoshop/photopea users. The green ones are the ones where you put in text! Edit those freely. Blue ones are ones you have to select and move as a batch - if you don't know how to do that, check below the cut ^^

You'll need to download these fonts:

Park Lane (name & power level)

Market Deco (main text font)

Artisual Deco Black Italic (blog url)

Below the cut, you'll find a tutorial for the template and a list of the image resources I used - Quick info for everyone, including the more experienced Photopea users: Save your image at 50% quality. The template is a big file and the exported image will also be pretty big if you don’t save it at a lower quality. 50% is what you can see above and I think it's a nice size-quality ratio.

Tutorial Time

Opening the File

Step one: Get either Photoshop or Photopea. Photoshop costs money, Photopea is free and runs in your browser. Take three guesses which one I use. Yeah, it's Photopea. As such, this tutorial will be Photopea-centric, and I also have no clue what the Photoshop interface looks like, so I can't really help you if you work on Photoshop. But I'm told they're essentially the same, so...

Step two: Download the fonts listed above from the links in this post.

Step three: Click on the link above to go download the template. It's a bit of a big file, so I put it into a zip file for you. Don't worry, you don't need a special program to open it. Photopea will do that for you.

Step four: Open Photopea. Click on "File" -> "Open..." and select the "TradingCardTemplate" zip file.

Step five: Click "File" -> "Open..." again and select the zip files for the fonts. This will import them to Photopea. There are also preview images included in at least one of the zip files for the fonts, so just close the windows for those projects when they pop up by clicking on the little "x" next to their file name. You only need the "TradingCardTemplate.psd" tab to be open in your Photopea window.

Great! Now you're all set to edit!

Editing the name, power level and blog url

I decided to group these together because they function essentially the same way

Step one: Select the typing tool. It's the little "T" symbol in the toolbar on the left side of your screen.

Step two: Select the layer of the text you want to edit. The blog url one is in plain view. For the name and power ones, you need to open the corresponding folders first. They're the green layers in the folders!

Step three: Click on the text you want to edit. It's easiest to aim for the middle, that way you have the least chances of missing. The typing tool is a bit finicky with that sometimes, especially if the text is small.

Great! Now you can use your keyboard to delete the placeholder text and replace it with your own! The power level will only fit two digits and picking "00" will look bad. Your OC should have at least some power. They need it to breathe.

Changing the size of the name text

As you might be able to tell, the basic text size only works for fairly short names. So, you might have to make it smaller for your OC's name to fit

Step one: Enter your OC's name as described above.

Step two: Select the text as you would anywhere else in your browser.

Step three: Above the little tag where it says "TradingCardTemplate.psd", there's an options bar. You'll find a box there labelled "Size" with a box that says "150px" and a down arrow next to it. Click on the down arrow and a slider will pop up. Play around with that slider until your text has a good size. Then click on the checkmark.

Step four: Switch to the transformation tool. It's the cursor with the directional cross next to it, at the top of your left-hand tool bar. Move your text so that it aligns well with the left side of the frame but make sure it's below the middle.

Step five: You now have to select two layers at once. The text layer and the frame for the name tag. Do do that, either press and hold your control key on your keyboard while selecting the other layer or toggle the control key using the on-screen keyboard at the bottom left of the toolbar. If you use the toggle, don't forget to untoggle it after.

Step six: On your horizontal toolbar above your project window, click on the icon that's a horizontal line with two boxes centered on it.

Congrats, your text should now be centered!

Adding in your OC picture

Step one: Open the "Picture" folder and select the layer beneath "Add picture here". This will make sure your picture will be in the right spot. Also make sure to click on the eye next to the "Pattern" layer tag to make it go invisible.

Step two: Select "File" -> "Open & Place..." and pick a nice image.

Step three: Once the image has been imported, make sure you change the zoom percentage to 100%, that way the image doesn't look pixely or weird. Click on the checkmark.

Step four: Resize your image so your OC fits nicely into the frame. The image should fill the entire space inside the frame and can stick out as much as you want.

Step five: Right-click (or press and hold, if you're on mobile) your image' layer and select "Clipping Mask".

Perfect! Now your image should no longer stick out of the frame. Feel free to adjust your image's coloration, brightness etc. by selecting "Image" -> "Adjustments" and your preferred action.

Changing your stats bars

This works the same for each bar and I tried to make it as simple as possible.

Step one: Open the corresponding folder.

Step two: Select the set of three blue layers together. You can do this by selecting one layer normally, then selecting the other two while holding your control key or while having it toggled using the built-in on-screen mini keyboard at the bottom left of your screen. If you use the toggle, don't forget to untoggle it after.

Step three: Switch to the transformation tool (the one at the top of your left-hand toolbar, it's a cursor with a directional cross) and move your layers. By moving them to the right, you'll reveal more of the gold underneath the overlay. More gold = higher level of the corresponding stat.

Great job! Now adjust the bars to your liking.

Saving your project + card image

To save the project: Click on "File" -> "Save as PSD". This will download the current project under the same name as the file that you downloaded it as. So, it will be called "TradingCardTemplate (1)" or something similar. Make sure you change the name in your files so you know which is which. Alternatively, you can also change the name of the project by double-clicking the little square that currently says "TradingCardTemplate" and type in your new name. If you save again now, it will show the new project name! Make sure to save your project if you want to be able to recover it and/or work on it later!

To save the card image: Click on "File" -> "Export as >" and pick your preferred image file type. I suggest JPG for best results. Make sure to turn the quality slider to 50%, then hit the save button. This will download an image file of your chosen type, under the same name as the project name. To change that name, refer to the bullet point above or go to your files :)

Advanced: Changing the BG color of the pattern

Step one: Select the pattern background of either the name tag, power score or picture and turn it to 100% opacity.

Step two: Color-pick the current background color of the pattern.

Step three: Click "Image" -> "Adjustments" -> "Replace Color..." and click on the colored rectangle in the new pop-up. Replace the default color with your color-picked color. Now use the Hue, Saturation and Lightness sliders to get a new color that you like. Note down your slider values for later so you have them for the other elements.

Step four: Color-pick your new color and select the corresponding solid background layer. For those layers, click "Edit" -> "Fill..." and make sure you have "Foreground" and "Normal" selected, your Opacity is 100% and you have "Preserve Transparency" checked.

Step five: Don't forget to turn the opacity of your pattern layers back down to 60%.

Congrats! You have your colors changed! Repeat this process for the other two patterned elements.

Extra advanced: Changing the card's background color

NOTE: I DON'T recommend this. You can do it, but it's a lot of work.

Step one: Select the background layer and change its color to the new color you want. You can do it with the "Hue/Saturation..." adjustment, with the "Fill" edit as described above, or whichever way you want. Color-pick your new color.

Step two: Open the smart object PSDs for the frames for the frames for the picture, the name tag, and the power counter by double-clicking on the preview image of the layer.

Step three: Select the lowest colored layer of each and change its color to the same as your new card background color. Click on "File" -> "Save (Smart Object)". Close the project windows.

Step four: Open the folders for the various stat bars and select the "Color Overlay" layers. Change their colors the same way you did for the other layers. Warm colors and high-saturation colors will most likely not look good here and you might need to find a different way of making the stat bars look good. Playing around with the "Brightness/Contrast" adjustment layers above might help, but I can't promise anything. This is the main reason why I don't recommend changing the card background color. The stats bars are adjusted to the background color.

There we are! Either your card looks very pretty now or you understand why I don't recommend this. Either way: Good job!

Resources from Freepik:

Corners by tartila Power counter frame Picture frame by pch.vector Stats bar by tartila Pattern

Taglist (we're bringing out all fandoms today): @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @bravelittleflower @box-of-bats @fluffle-system @wheresmybloodynauglamir @nanukanal @supermarine-silvally @cody-helix02

[rotationalsymmetry]

Commenting without reblogging, this time because reblogs were closed on the other post (about calling your representatives):

1. Do not swear at the person answering the phone, they're an intern with no authority, it's not nice. If you need to swear, do it BEFORE the call.

2. Again, you don't only not have to have an entire speech memorized, you don't have to give even a single sentence reason for being against (or for but ...probably not relevant right now) the thing. Just say who you are, what the thing is, and that you are against (or for) it. "The thing" as in a specific cabinet member getting confirmed, or a specific bill (letter-letter-number format or whatever it's called in words, or both of you want to be safe. This is less important for highly controversial Things where many other people are calling.)

3. Even if you give a reason, it's unlikely to get passed on to the actual senator/representative. Members of Congress get a SHIT TON of calls even during quiet times, and this isn't a quiet time. They're not going to hear the reasons. They're going to hear that x number of people called in opposition to the thing. That's what you are doing by calling. You are being part of a number. (It's still very much a good thing to do, making a phone call shows you care enough about the issue to take some time out of your day, politicians care about these numbers a lot. Because politicians who don't care about them get voted out of office, and they know this. Also, it's a thing they can point to when talking to other politicians, to justify taking the position you want them to take. Since representing the people is literally their job. So "my constituents want me to do this" is always going to hold weight as a reason to do a thing.)

I mean, it doesn't hurt to give a reason, if you want to go for it, a lot of people feel like they should, and expressing the reason can maybe make the call feel more worth doing or something? But if you're feeling stuck on it, be aware it's strictly optional.

4. Letters are all right but slow -- at least for Congress members at the federal level, they have to have their mail checked for anthrax and stuff, it's not as good for very time sensitive issues. (Hand written letters when time is not that important can be given extra weight because they represent time and therefor degree to which the constituent cares about the issue.) Emails and petition signatures (like via resistbot) are OK but carry less weight than calls because they typically take less effort from the individual sending out the email or signing the petition. More effort = more indication this is genuinely important to you.

TLDR contact reps good. Phone calls very good. Don't swear when calling your reps. Exact wording is otherwise not very important. It is 100% fine to use someone else's script, or to only say who you are (and probably your zip code), what you're calling about, and whether you are for or against it. That's it!

[loveletterworm]

i think your old art is very charming. but your new art is also lovely! i would be interested to see what kinds of things you're interested in drawing. Also i think big bobbleheads are cute. Thankyou

Honestly I don't think the bobbleheads are really that criminal except for the fact that I've found they make it difficult to draw character interactions...Even when it doesn't seem like their heads should logically be that close together they end up colliding when I don't want them to because each person's skull has its own zip code

so i've been struggling for months to figure out how to tone the bobblehead factor down to a manageable level without also making all my existing character designs look strange because they were born bobbleheaded. And then I don't really do that and just continue to only draw characters standing there alone, so that they don't get concussions

[mommymortuary]

Fight This - Steve Harrington (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2 of the Fight This fic.

October 19th, 1984. The next day comes, and you join Steve at his house for the first of your study sessions. You come to find that before you can even begin to study, you need to clean up the about mess that is Steve's school supplies. You also realize how easily distracted and bored he gets.

word count: 5,519

This part contains; smoking, slight cursing, no nsfw.

Special thanks to my friends, editor, @sody-pops , and my secondary proofreader @briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiwrites !

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

The next school day had come and gone with relative ease; the hallways were getting decorated by the student council for Halloween, which was a week and a half away. Paper cut-outs of ghosts and bats swayed in the air conditioning. Halloween was always one of your favorite times of the year, even if you were “too old” now to trick-or-treat, you wouldn’t be caught dead without a costume.

You had seen Steve pass by in the hallway a few times, though neither of you stopped to speak to the other one. You were focused on making it to class on time, and he seemed to be a little more focused on his girlfriend Nancy. No wonder he was in desperate need of your academic assistance.

____________

When the final bell of the day rang, you walked to your locker. You put your code in and popped the door open, pulling out a few binders full of class notes and past homework assignments. You popped them into your backpack and zipped it shut. Making your way to the front door, you squinted as you left the building, the bright sun blinding you slightly.

You put a hand over your eyes to shield them from some of the direct sunlight, and after giving yourself some time to adjust, you swiveled your head to try and find where Steve was. You caught a glimpse of his familiar burgundy car, and he was sitting on the closed trunk, clearly waiting for you. Once you had made eye contact, he waved you over to him and hopped off of his car.

“Hey!” Steve grinned and you walked up to him. He walked around to his car and opened the passenger side door for you. “Please enter, my study buddy.”

“I’m a big girl, I know how to open a car door, Steven.” You jabbed at him playfully, shuffling into the passenger seat, placing your backpack on the ground between your feet.

“Ouch, Steven? I thought we were friendly now, why you busting out the full name?” Steve chuckled, closing the door behind you. He walked to the driver’s side and climbed in. After buckling himself in, he put the keys in the ignition and started the car up. The radio was tuned to a popular radio station in Hawkins, a generic Top 40 hits sort of deal. Footloose by Kenny Loggins was playing through the speakers, and Steve grinned. “Oh hell yeah, I love this song,”

He began to lazily sing along to the song as he put the car into drive, and left the school parking lot. A few songs cycled through the radio before you made it to the Harrington residence, but you hadn’t paid much attention to what they were. You had been staring out the window and nervously fidgeting with the tips of your fingers.

You weren’t sure why you were so suddenly nervous about the situation. You had never been to Steve’s house before, even with all the grade wide parties he had thrown. Sure, you were there to help Steve study, and his parents were never home, but there was always that awful gnawing feeling of going to a new house for the first time. Everyone’s houses had different rules. Would he ask you to take your shoes off? Tell you to keep them on? Were you allowed to have water outside of the kitchen?

Your anxious overthinking had taken over for the whole car ride, and suddenly you were at his house.

“Hey, we’re here!” Steve grinned, parking the car and turning it off. “Come on, let’s get inside and put your stuff down.”

You nodded and opened your car door, stepping out with your backpack clutched to your chest. Closing the door behind you carefully, you followed Steve to the front door of his house, which he unlocked with a small key. He pushed the door open and held it for you. “After you.” He gestured a hand towards the doorway, and you went in.

Your eyes went wide. It was a gorgeous house, and sure, it looked big on the outside, but it felt even bigger on the inside. Artwork hung on the wall, and a few family photos as well.

A young Steve stood in a button-up top between two older people, probably his parents, though you’ve never seen them, it was a safe assumption to make. You walked over to it as Steve closed the door behind him, and you pointed at it.

“Look at you! Dressed up all nice!” You laughed, turning to Steve. “You were so small in this picture, and you didn’t even develop your signature hair yet!”

Steve’s face turned a bright red as he rushed over to you and placed his hand over the photo. “Alright, alright. We’re here to study, not look at baby Steve and his horribly mismanaged haircut.”

“Fine, you baby.” You rolled your eyes and stifled back more laughter. “Where are we setting up, then?”

“Follow me.” Steve extended a hand and you hesitantly took it. He led you up the stairs and opened the door to a room. His room. “You can put your stuff on the bed. I’m going to go back downstairs and get us something to drink. Do you want anything?”

“Uhh..” You wondered aloud, walking slowly to the large bed and putting your bag on top of the wrinkled blankets. “If you have a Coke, I’ll take one of those I guess?”

“Sure thing. Be right back, okay? Make yourself at home.” Steve stuck a thumb up and then made his way down the stairs. Leaving you utterly alone in his room.

His bedroom.

You were alone in Steve Harrington’s bedroom.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when it came to Steve’s bedroom. But it certainly wasn’t this. It was much tidier than you would’ve ever assumed, only one or two stray shirts lay in a crumpled pile in the corners. You sat down on the very edge of his bed, hands running across the soft bedding.

The whole room smelled of Steve. Well, of course it did. But it felt like it was wrapping around you, entering your nose and filling your lungs. Surprisingly, it wasn’t overwhelming. It was just the right level of fresh laundry and his signature Derringer cologne.

Your head perked up when you heard the creaking of the stairs, and you saw Steve’s smiling face come back through his door. He had a can of coke in each hand, and a family-sized bag of potato chips. He closed the door behind him with his foot, and made his way over to you.

“Here,” Steve extended his hand out and gestured for you to take the can in his hand. “I brought up some chips to snack on, but if you get hungry for something more.. real, we could always order on the phone.”

“Thanks.” You took the can from Steve and cracked the top open, taking a small sip from it. You looked around for a place to set it down, unsure of where you should set it down. 

“Just put it on top of the dresser.” Steve pointed, and you nodded, setting the can down.

“Okay, let’s get started.” You smiled, opening your backpack and pulling the binders out, splaying them across the bed. They were all a different color, labeled neatly on the covers and spines, dedicated to individual classes. “What classes would you say you’re struggling in the most right now?”

“Wow,” Steve sighed out at the sight of all of your well-organized binders. “A..all of them really, but I have a chemistry exam coming up at the beginning of November and I’m totally lost. We could start there, maybe?”

“Sounds good.” You replied, picking up the navy blue chemistry binder and opening it. “What chapter is your class on right now?”

“Uhm…” Steve stared blankly for a moment, racking his brain, trying to summon the thought, but the attempt brought up nothing. “I actually have no idea.”

You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head. “So far, you are absolutely no help, Harrington. Show me your science folder, I can compare the recent notes to what I have and see where your class is at.”

Steve sucked in his cheek as he opened his backpack and pulled out the most disheveled folder you had ever seen. Papers stuck out at every angle, some crinkled from being jammed into it aimlessly. He handed it over to you, sparsely making eye contact with you.

“Jesus christ, Steve. No wonder you’re this lost. We’re is a month and a half into school, and this thing looks like you ran it over with your car.” You groaned, opening the folder. A few scraps of paper fell out and onto the bed. “So, I think we’re going to have to teach you how to take notes and keep your things orderly, first and foremost. Because this, Harrington? I cannot work with this.”

His face turned red as you said that, looking everywhere in the room except at you. “Yeah, I know.. I’m a natural disaster.”

“Well, don’t say that. This.. this is all fixable. But these flimsy paper folders you got are gonna have to go, Harrington. I know that this is supposed to be a study session and all, but I think we’re gonna need to run to the store to get you some better supplies, okay?” You closed the folder and set it down on the bed. “I’ll show you the good stuff.”

“Oh god, we have to go shopping.” Steve ran his hands over his face with a groan. “Maybe I’m starting to regret this whole thing already.”

“Knock it off, Harrington.” You swatted at his forearm playfully. “Let’s go.”

You both stood and made your way down his staircase again, leaving your backpacks and study materials up on his bed. Steve grabbed his keys, and once again held his front door open for you.

The ride to the store was relatively quick, Hawkins wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolitan center. You exited the car and approached the store, the automatic doors gliding open as the two of you went in. To your right, there was a stack of red hand-held shopping baskets, and you grabbed one. You held it in the crook of your elbow, and used your other hand to drag Steve to the school supply section of the store.

“Alright, Steve. These–” You picked up a folder similar to the ones Steve was currently using. “Are no good for long term use. They fall apart really easily, and don’t have a lot of space for later on in the year.”

Setting the folder back in the cardboard display box, you took a few steps down the aisle, and stood in front of some 3 ring binders. “This is what we want, hardcover, won’t totally disintegrate, a slot in the front and back, and a section in the center that we could even divide into sections.”

Steve picked one up and looked at it. “Are these the same ones you use?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna get you a different color for every class, to keep you better organized.” You said, pulling binders off the shelf and setting them in your shopping basket. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. “You can decide what color you want each class to be, that’s totally up to you.”

Steve nodded. “What else are we gonna get here? Or did you just make me drive all this way for binders?”

“Shut up, I’m getting to it.” You rolled your eyes and walked to another part of the aisle, which had clear plastic dividers with labeling stickers, meant specifically for 3 ring binders. “These are gonna go inside the binders, and help divide up the bulk of the papers in the rings, alright? We’ll have a homework section, classroom notes, and graded stuff you want to hang on to for studying from.”

“Is staying organized always this much effort?” Steve whined slightly.

“Don’t complain Steve. If you put even a quarter of the time you spend every morning on that hair of yours into keeping your stuff neat, we wouldn’t have to do a complete overhaul like this.” You retorted, wagging a finger in front of his face.

“I get it, I get it. You don’t have to mother me.” Steve scoffed.

“Ew, don’t say that. I’m being a good friend to you Harrington, but I’m definitely not being like your mom.” Him saying that you were acting like a mother to him made you cringe slightly.

“Oh, well you’re definitely nothing like my mother. If she was present for anything in my academic life to this degree, do you think I’d exactly be in this situation?” Steve stated and rolled his eyes. His arms crossed in front of his chest, his striped polo bulging at the sleeves ever so slightly.

You let your eyes linger a little longer than intended before looking back into Steve’s eyes and responding. “Sorry.. That really does suck Steve.”

Comparatively, you had a better home life. Your family certainly wasn’t nearly as wealthy as Steve’s, your home was smaller and your parents were barely able to keep up with payments between their two cars. Steve had his own car, paid for by his parents, and they even had untouched cars that were used only on the rare occasions where they were actually in town. But, your parents were both home every day. You fall asleep under the same roof together every night, and you all sit together for meals. Dad asked about your grades, and Mom asked about extracurriculars and boys (which was a topic that always died quickly.)

They were loving and kind, and you honestly felt bad about lying to them about smoking and the non existent clubs you attended. But hey, weren’t teens supposed to rebel a little?

“I’m used to it at this point.” Steve shrugged, and his voice pulled you back into reality and away from the thoughts that poked at your brain. “Let’s finish up here and get back to the house. Your Coke is going to go flat before we get home if we spend all day rainbow labeling the ways my parents have fucked me up.”

You chuckled at his comment, though you felt a little bad for doing so. The self-deprecating jab he made was probably supposed to be funny, but it was probably masking more true feelings of hurt than anything else. Maybe you were thinking too hard about it.

“Alright, King Steve. 2 more minutes, and we’ll go to the register.” You stuck a tongue out and turned away from him, walking a few steps further down the aisle, not seeing the pout on Steve’s lips at the nickname he hated so much.

The nickname he hated hearing from you.

The nickname that showed how you thought of him.

___________

After a successful shopping trip, you were back in Steve’s bedroom together, all of his new supplies spread out across the bedding. You were slowly working through his decrepit folders and putting his papers into the 3 ring binders. Each was labeled and filled with the plastic dividers you had grabbed.

Steve had turned on a radio in his room and it was on the same station that was playing in the car earlier. He danced around the open space of his room somewhat lazily, eating from the bag of chips as he rocked between his two feet.

“Glad to be doing all the work for you Harrington.” You commented, standing up from where you had been bent over the side of his bed.

“Oh come on, we’ve been at this for like an hour. It’s time for a fun break, before I lose my mind and pull all my hair out.”

You feigned a gasp, clasping your hands to your cheeks. “Your beautiful, perfect hair?! Do you really think you could handle being bald Steve?”

“Haha,” Steve retorted. “You’re so funny.”

“Fine, fine. If you need a break so badly, we can pop out back for a smoke. Then, straight back to work! You got it?” You pointed a finger at him accusingly.

Steve grinned and threw the chip bag on his bedside table, clapping once. “God yes PLEASE.” He grabbed your hand suddenly and pulled you down his staircase and out of his back door, leading you to a gorgeous patio beside an inground pool.

“Holy shit, you really do have a nice place here, Harrington.” You mused, pulling the cigarette and lighter out of your backpack, which you had just  barely managed to grab in Steve’s feverishly fast movement.

Steve motioned for you to sit in some white lounge chairs, and you gladly took a seat. He took up the one next to you, watching as you lit the cigarette between your fingers. You took a deep breath, the nicotine hitting your system and sending a calm throughout your blood. That, or maybe, it was how close Steve was sitting beside you, his knee brushing up against you as he waited his turn.

No, that is stupid. It’s definitely the cigarette.

“Here.” You smiled softly, passing the smoke to Steve.

“Thanks,” He had punctuated the sentence with your name, and it slipped off his tongue so smoothly. Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, but that is something you would refuse to admit, even to yourself.

“So how’s uh.. Nancy?” You asked him nonchalantly, leaning back in the chair and staring up at the sky. The sun was slowly beginning to set, and pinkish hues were starting to intermingle with the blue atmosphere.

“Good. We recently been uh.. Having weekly dinner over at the Hollands’ place.” Steve said, blowing a cloud out.

“Oh, that’s Barb’s mom and dad right?” You turned your head slightly to him, squinting as some low sun rays hit your eyes. “The girl who went missing last year, right? She was Nancy’s friend?”

Steve nodded, not saying anything for a moment. He looked lost in thought, an unreadable emotion passing his face. Taking one more drag before passing the cigarette back to you, he sighed. “Yeah, they were really close. It's honestly a lot of pressure going there every week, but Barb wa-IS their only kid. I think Nancy and I showing up is one of the only things keeping them together.”

“That’s really sweet of you two. I can’t imagine how they feel about it, not knowing what happened to her..” You smoked a bit more before continuing. “Do you ever, you know, wonder what happened to her?”

Steve looked away from you, obstructing his face from view with his dark waves of hair. In a low mumble, he said, “Yeah.” The waver in his tone was odd, but you thought nothing of it. His girlfriend’s best friend was missing, probably dead, and you were prying.

“Sorry, sorry. Let’s move on.” You shook your head, handing him the cigarette. “You can finish this, okay?”

He takes it thankfully and finishes the last few puffs worth, flicking it to the ground and stomping it out. “Welp-” He clapped his hands once more as he stood up from his lounge chair. “Back to it then, hm?”

“You know it.” You stood beside him, and the two of you slowly made your way back upstairs, your backpack slung over one shoulder.

As you entered the bedroom, you noticed that Steve had left the radio on. Tell Her About It by Billy Joel had started moments ago, and by the look on his face, you could tell what he was about to say next.

“Oh I love this song!” Steve mused as he started pulling off his shoes.

You shook your head slightly. “You love every song on this station, don’t you Harrington?”

“Somebody doesn’t know how to relax, does she?” He rolled his eyes at you. “You know what, come here.”

What happened next caught you by surprise. Steve walked straight up to you, and pulled your backpack off, setting it against the edge of his bed. He grabbed your hand next and tugged you into the center of his room, and started swaying around. You were in shock, standing utterly still other than the hand Steve was holding onto, which was bouncing to his movement. He frowned at your lack of enthusiasm.

“You really need to learn to let loose, seriously.” Steve eyed you, and it felt like his brown eyes were reaping straight into your soul. His intent eye contact kept you locked in, distracting you from the devilish smirk on his lips.

Suddenly, your arm was lifted above your head and you were spun around. Once, twice, three times, before you stood still again. Your hair was a mess now, falling over the side of your face and covering an eye. You felt a large, calloused hand brush it away and tuck it behind your ear. Looking up at Steve’s goofy grin as your vision steadied itself, a boisterous laugh rang throughout the room. “See, that’s better. You’ve gotta learn to feel the music. That’s not something you can study in your anal retentive little binders and flashcards.”

“Whatever, Harrington.” You jeered, wiggling your hand out of his tight grasp. “I’m not the one at risk of repeating their senior year, Music Man.”

“Ouch,” Steve put a hand on his chest. “I really thought we were becoming friendly. I see that I was mistaken.” The sarcasm in his tone dripped like a viscous honey, and you almost couldn’t help yourself when a laugh slipped from you.

“Oh, no not at all. In fact I really hate you Steve.” You quipped. “I’ve got a secret plot to get close to you and help you graduate so that you get into a college far far away and I never see you again. That’s why I’m putting in all this effort to help you out. Because I don’t like you.”

“I knew it!” He cried out dramatically, falling to his knees. “It was all a lie, I knew we couldn’t possibly need that many plastic dividers, it was a secret method of torture.”

“Alright Steve, alright. We seriously should get back to work now oka-” Your words ceased and your ears perked up as the song on the radio changed to one that you absolutely adored. Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen.

“You love this song, don’t you?” Steve poked your shoulder as he stood back up. He shook his shoulders a little, and swayed his hips, attempting to coax you into a dance. This time, you oblige, and you slowly begin to rock your body to the beat of the song.

You had danced to this song countless times in the safety - and more importantly privacy - of your own home, but you were never one to dance in front of others. So the slow movements weren’t from the pacing of the song, but your nervousness to be seen dancing.

“Loosen up, it’s like watching a scarecrow try to move with the stick still up their ass.” Steve laughed.

“Hey, be nice or I won’t help you actually study ever, Steve.” You warned him. “I don’t usually dance around other people. It's weird for me.”

“Not for me. What, do you think I’m going to go to school on Monday and tell everyone that you’re a horrible dancer? Not exactly my plan.”

“Whatever.” You flicked your hand at him, before taking a deep breath. You allowed yourself to move a little smoother now, shuffling your feet as you let your arms flow at your sides more freely. Steve beamed at you with his pearly whites, copying your little dance moves.

“Okay, maybe you’re not terrible.” He chuckled, before spinning himself around and jumping in place. “You just don’t know how to have fun.”

“I do too! I just don’t consider… more traditional things to be fun.”

“You know what? You’re going to teach me to study and be responsible, but I’m going to teach you to have a little more joy in your life.” Steve stopped moving now, walking over to his table and taking a sip of his drink. He turned the volume of the radio down a bit, before walking to his bed and sitting on the edge. “Let’s get this done so I can put it all away. It’s getting late and I don’t want you to miss dinner at your house or anything like that.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said today that’s convinced me that you have a brain somewhere under all that hair, Harrington.” You responded, sitting beside him.

About 15 minutes passed, and with Steve actually putting in some effort to assist you, the task actually got finished. The two of you sat proudly besides a neatly stacked pile of binders, colorful and well-labeled.

“That took so longggg.” Steve huffed, throwing himself backwards into his bed.

“It wasn’t THAT bad Steve. It’s like, just 5 o’clock now.”

“Wrong. It’s actually closer to 6.” He said, pointing at the clock on his wall. Your eyes followed his finger and you read the time. 5:47. You groaned, smacking your forehead. 

“My mom asked me to be back home at 5:30 for dinner. She’s going to be worrying about me!”

“Pack your stuff up, I’ll drive you home. Just tell her it was my fault, okay?” Steve said, standing up and pulling his shoes back on.

“I mean, it was a little bit. You just had to have an unplanned dance party.” You retorted, getting your belongings into your backpack and checking that your shoes were tied. “But that I won’t mention.”

“Whatever you say.” He grabbed his car keys and swung them around his finger a few times, causing the metal to jingle as it hit into itself.

And with that, down the stairs you went, following closely behind Steve. He held his front door open for you as you walked out, before locking it behind him. He stood beside you on the passenger side of the car, before asking, “Want me to open the door for you like a gentleman, or can you do it yourself, big girl?”

“Again, I am a big girl, but just do it if you’re so damn insistent.” You teased back, allowing him to open the door for you. You climbed in, and he shut the door as you fastened your seat belt and positioned your backpack comfortably in your lap.

Steve entered his side of the car, going through the same motions before turning the key in the ignition and letting his car roar to life. He backed down his driveway carefully, head turned around and hand planted firmly on the back of your headrest. You could practically smell the cologne on his wrist, before he moved his hand back to the wheel and began driving down the road.

It wasn’t a long drive before you reached your house. You made sure to point out all the right turns to Steve, and he somehow managed to almost miss one, even with how small the town was. But you managed to make it home alive and unscathed, no thanks to Steve’s driving.

“This is the one.” You pointed Steve to the right house, and he pulled into the rocky driveway. The faded yellow paint of the house had a slight glow in the low light of the setting sun, and you could see the porch light was on. “My mom is waiting for me, I’ve gotta go.”

You fumbled with the buckle of your seat belt, releasing it after a slight struggle. You went to open your door, and your backpack managed to slip from your lap and hit the ground as you pushed the metal away from yourself. “Shit.” You groaned, looking down at your feet. Somehow, you had left your backpack partially open, enough for some of your things to spill out in the pebbles.

“You okay?” Steve asked, craning his neck to see what had happened. He twisted his keys and pulled them out of the ignition, before walking around the car. He leaned down beside you and helped you gather your things.

His hand brushed yours as you had reached for the same pencil case, and you pulled it away quickly. Steve picked it up, holding it close to his face as he blew some dirt off the bottom, before handing it to you. “You’re clumsy, hm?”

“I’m not.” You huffed, snatching the case from him and shoving it into your bag. “Thank you. Thank you for the ride, Steve.”

“Honey? Is that you?” A familiar voice called. It was your mother, who had walked out onto the porch when she noticed the unfamiliar car in the driveway. The sudden noise causes you to pop up from your squat rather quickly, and for Steve, it had the same effect. The two of you moved so fast, your heads smacked into each other.

“Ouch-” You hissed, holding a hand to your forehead as you squinted your eyes. A dull pain radiated from where your skulls had unfortunately collided, and your lip began to swell where your teeth had bit down on the flesh.

“Ah, Jesus, sorry.” Steve whispered, leaning in close to check for blood. “Nothing seems to be bleeding, if that helps?”

“Really, fantastic.” You jeered. “Super helpful, Harrington.”

“Hey, it was an accident, clumsy.” He chuckled, a new nickname slipping off his tongue with such ease. One that you didn’t like much at all.

“Darling?” Your mom called out again.

“Ye-yeah Mom! It’s me! I’m sorry I’m late.” You responded, closing the car door behind you and trudging up the driveway; keeping your hand pressed to your forehead, sucking your teeth in hopes to distract from the painful feeling. The sound of rustling rocks behind you made you realize Steve had followed behind you, all the way up to the front porch.

“Hello, ma’am.” Steve smiled at your mother, extending a hand to her for a polite handshake. “I’m Steve Harrington, the person your daughter is helping study. I’m sorry for her being late, we had lost track of time because of me. And I promise, the head injury only happened a moment ago.”

His voice was sickeningly sweet, much like honey, as he spoke to your mother. His charming smile had won your mother over rather quickly, and she had sighed with relief.

“I was worried about her when she wasn’t home on time, but I’m glad you just got caught up in your lessons.” She gleaned at Steve. “And I saw you guys slam your heads into each other over there, I do hope you’re alright.. Do you need to come in and have me take a look at that?”

“Oh, not at all ma’am. I’m alright, really. But thank you.” Steve shook his head. “Again, I’m so sorry for getting her home late, I didn’t know she had a curfew to be at home. We were going to work some more on Monday, and if it’s alright with you, I’d like to bring her back a little closer to 7. I’d make sure to feed her while she was over, I am just really desperate for her help. She’s a smart cookie, you know?”

You glared at him, and luckily your sour expression remained unseen by your mother, thanks to your hand blocking her direct view of your face. But he remained smiling, looking straight at your mom.

“Why, I think that would be quite alright, as long as you make sure she eats. She really is a bright girl. I’m glad she’s using her talents to help someone out.” Your mother mused.

“Mooom-” You whined, but she interrupted you before you could continue.

“Would you like to come in for dinner, Steve?”

“Oh, I can’t today, I’m sorry. Perhaps another time, I’ll take you up on your offer.” He stood there, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Well, that’s too bad.” Your mother frowned, before turning to you. “I’ll see you inside honey. I’ll get your plate set for you.”

“Thanks mom, I’ll be right there.”

And with that, your mother went back inside, the screen door creaking as it shut.

“So I’m staying at your house until 7 on Monday??” You turned to Steve and swatted his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. I don’t plan on keeping you that late, but I’d rather your mom be pleasantly surprised when you show up early instead of worrying about you when you’re late.” Steve threw his hands up, nonchalantly.

“Whatever, Harrington. Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you on Monday, then.” You huffed.

“See you on Monday!” He said. “Have a good weekend, clumsy.”

“I’m not clumsy!” You called after Steve as he sauntered back to his car. He didn’t turn back to look at you, giving you a simple over-the-shoulder wave.

“Damn you, Steve.” You muttered under your breath as you opened your front door and walked into your house. “Damn you.”

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

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