#excuse me if my rambling makes no sense or is difficult to follow / understand

[slowlydecomposingcorpse]

8 is the best number and my reasoning is that it is an even number which creates another even number when it is divided by 2, 4, and 4 creates yet another even number when it is divided by 2, 2. And since 2 creates 1 when it is divided by 2, which in itself is a superb number because it is the first number (when one ignores the infinite amount of numbers below it) and makes counting possible in the first place. Also, it becomes the symbol for infinity when turned sideways. I’m presently too tired to explain why I am so normal about infinity, so expect me to do so later, at an unspecified time in the near future.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

you suck at crushes

College!Yangyang x College!Reader x College!Renjun 

summary: Renjun wants to help you get with Yangyang who wants to help you couple up with Renjun but they’re both annoying, maybe one less than the other

word count: 4.2k

(warnings: swearing, mentions of food) ((lmk if I missed anything))

Taglist! @lanadreamie

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy!! I swear reader ends up with only one guy I just don’t want to give away the ending and I know the summary is ass

-

God it was like the beams of sunshine just followed him around. Providing him with a natural spotlight that only worked to draw your attention to him even more than usual. The voices around you faded into background noise, and everything else besides him became so fuzzy you could only focus on the one and only- Liu Yangyang.

“Hello?” “Y/N!” “Are you listening to us?” Someone gripped your shoulder and shook you until you were out of your Yangyang-induced-haze. “Huh? Oh yeah… totally.” You answered with absolutely no idea about the conversation happening at the very table you sat at. 

Your friends snorted, teasing and making fun of you. A kissing noise, a high pitched teasing exclamation of the man of the hour’s name, and some playful elbows being jabbed into your side. When they finally stopped with the teasing and they actually filled you in you were able to answer some questions about the times at the library. 

You slipped into your seat in your geology class, a poor choice on your behalf and quite frankly the school for describing it as something that would be ‘fun and exciting.’ What a total load of BS that was. The professor was an old man that went on and on about his days in the field 40 years ago and rambled on and on about subjects that were 70% of the time not on the tests. However, the one and only bright side was that you had your favorite distraction in this class, Yangyang.

How could one person asking a question about the tectonic plates or the striations on a stupid rock be so attractive? He made it possible. 

“Staring yet again?” An annoying voice asked quietly, just inches from your ear.

“Who are you?” You asked annoyed.

“Y/N, that isn’t funny anymore. Not the first time you did it and not the hundreds of times after that. We lived on the same street for years before you decided to follow me here.” He answered with a huff. 

“Renjun, will you just go away? You know I’m no good at this so go bother someone else.” You replied. You took your eyes off Yangyang, gave Renjun a quick glare, and focused back on the lab work in front of you. Something stupid about hills or some moutain. Wasn’t this class supposed to be about rocks? 

“I don’t need help, I came to help you. We’re friends- shhhh.” Renjun started, quickly shutting you up before you could interrupt. “I can help you with this lab and help you win over your beloved Yangyang.”

You sent him a quizzical look. In all the years you had known Renjun he had never been this... generous- always wanting something in return. “He and I are friends, he’s been super annoying lately and complaining about some final project we decided to do together, but we have months to do it. If I help you guys get together in order to distract him, then he can stop bothering me about that final project. It’s a win-win-win situation.” He explained.

Well, that made a lot of sense. “What do you even have in mind? Yangyang and I don’t talk like we used to, how could we go from strangers to dating in just a couple months.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself. You were the person to show him around school when he was the new kid all those years ago when we were kids, you’re in better standing than you think. We all went to the same school, we already know each other, we all have this class, and I’m not going to let this fail because I do not fail. If I have to hear about the final project one more time I will rip all the hair off his head, three strands at a time.” Renjun pouted. 

“You sound completely crazy-”

“If you two need some help all you have to do is ask, I don’t need you two to argue and disrupt the class. Mr. Liu, since you seem to have a good understanding of the assignment, would you mind helping them out?” The professor called out. 

You and Renjun sent each other incredulous looks, were you really talking that loudly? “It’s earlier than expected, but don’t worry I got this,” Renjun whispered.

“You know if you guys had just spoken quietly, I could have left early but here I am. You can’t do anything without me can you?” Yangyang teased Renjun. 

“Oh, it wasn’t me. Y/N here is just so stupid, I was trying to explain the lab and it’s like all my words go in one ear and out the other. Maybe you can explain better than I can.” Renjun gestured toward you wildly. 

You immediately went to defend yourself but stopped when instead, Yangyang came to your defense. “Y/N isn’t stupid like you Injun, if you wanted some attention you didn’t have to bother someone innocent.”

Your face felt so hot, god this attention was too much to handle so suddenly. It was as if Renjun had thrown you into the deep end of a pool when you had just learned about the entire concept of swimming itself. If this was his attempt at getting you and Yangyang together you were now questioning the entire idea. It was just too much to handle so suddenly.

Yangyang quickly went on to explain the idea of the lab, giving you some tips to make the work easier and how it connected to past lessons. “Do you understand it a little more now?” He asked you.

You hissed when someone stomped on your foot beneath the table. Your eyes met Renjun’s while he discreetly shook his head, seemingly trying to send you some kind of message. But it seemed whatever he was sending was received because you quickly caught on, answering, “Oh uh, this whole class has actually been a bit more difficult than I anticipated, and you seem to have a way better understanding than I do. Would you be willing to maybe meet up sometime and just help a little more?”

“I’m free on Wednesday afternoons, let’s exchange numbers so maybe we can find out what you struggle the most with and what time works for you. Renjun are you coming too, you seemed to get the lab when I explained it,” Yangyang replied.

Renjun answered with a simple nod, sending Yangyang on his way for the remainder of the class. He was quiet the rest of the time, still sitting beside you. When the class was over he looked over at you, “This is going to be so much easier than I thought.”

-

Some point in the week after class you had all decided on the meeting place and time. Some little cafe just off campus after Yangyang was done with his last class of the day. He said the coffee was good and it wasn’t even expensive, to which Renjun was quick to add that they had friends working there so they got discounts. 

Renjun insisted on meeting you a little earlier to go over the details of the plan he had finally come up with. The plan mainly consisted of you just catching up with Yangyang, which would then progress to just the two of you hanging out, then bam! Dating! Much easier said than done you were quick to point out. His plan was just an idea with no details. Like what do you talk about? How do you make him like you? What kinds of things does he like? Could he even like you romantically?

“He actually mentioned to me that he was happy to talk to you again, so I have very high hopes. That was one conversation with him that was not about the final. Just have some hope.” Renjun shrugged. 

“You make this sound so simple, but you are not the one risking being embarrassed by telling the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were 10 about your feelings and having even less of a relationship than you’ve had for the past like 6 years.” You huffed.

“Since you were 10? That’s a little embarrassing.” Renjun let out.

Ever since you were kids it was like Renjun knew the exact words and actions to push your every button. Always getting on your nerves and getting under your skin. It was foolish of you to believe that he had matured enough to not tease you, even in your 20s and even in college. Huang Renjun sucked.

You brought your hands up to his neck, fully ready to wrap your hands around his neck and just squeeze- just enough pressure for him to get the idea to just shut up. But of course, that would be unacceptable in public and even less appropriate seeing as Yangyang had come right up to the table before you could do so. You improvised, changing your intended action of a throat squeeze to a nice hug, arms wrapped tightly around Renjun’s shoulders. You smiled brightly, tilting your head away from Yangyang so your lips were right beside Renjun’s ear, “I can go another 10 years buddy, learn to shut your damn mouth. I for one know how to follow through with my threats and will actually pull your hairs from your head- Yangyang, so good to see you!”

Yangyang looked between the both of you curiously, side by side, one with a bright, beaming smile and the other flushed, scared look on their face. He shook it off and pulled out his study materials while making small talk. 

By the end of the study session you felt more confident in your geology skills and your chances with Yangyang. He had gotten exponentially cooler as he got older than the kid you met all those years ago. Sure, he was still chaotic and sarcastic, even still a little dramatic, but it nonetheless made your heart skip a beat, just like the first time you laid eyes on him. 

-

Over the next few weeks Renjun slowly stopped coming to the study sessions. He always had some excuse or another, that neither you or Yangyang ever really questioned. In those few weeks you and Yangyang had grown closer as friends, texting each other about more than just class, checking in on each other, sending stupid memes and tiktoks, even a few inside jokes.

But of course, Renjun had to have his time too. Instead of just texting you, he would make conversation anytime he saw you on campus, even going as far as asking you to hang out when he wanted to know what was going on. Every night without fail, he would FaceTime you for at least an hour and a half to ask for very detailed updates which at some point became you two just talking about your days in general. He liked to judge your every decision, giving his own input on even minor things like the seat you sat in for a class he didn’t even have. He said his life lacked drama so he needed to live vicariously through his friends.

“I know we usually meet at the cafe, but even with that discount I really shouldn’t be spending all that money there every week. Do you mind if we meet at mine this week? I promise my roommate buys enough snacks to feed the whole complex and he makes me clean the place every week.” Yangyang suggested about a month and a half into your studying arrangement. 

You of course agreed, you’d be crazy to not want to go to your crush’s home, just the two of you- alone, and talking about… rocks. 

So when the next week came and Wednesday afternoon rolled around, you found yourself standing right outside your crush’s door, fist raised to knock. You were so nervous, just being alone with him in his home! This wasn’t the cafe where you had other people around, where you knew where things were, close to your home. No, this was his house, and that made you beyond nervous. 

He pulled the door open, a wide smile on his face as he welcomed you in. He set your things at his kitchen table and gave you a short tour of the home. “My roommate will be back later tonight, but he made us some food if we get hungry later,” He told you while he brought out his own supplies, once again ready to conquer your weekly study session.

And even though you did at one point struggle very much with the subject, this particular topic seemed easier to understand. So after even correcting Yangyang a few times, the study session became more of a hang out session. So casual that you even answered Renjun’s texts, chuckling at him freaking out in all caps because you were in Yangyang’s home.

“No, but Renjun did that last time we hung out too! We were in public, like full on glass of water spilled across the table and he got so red,” you laughed recalling the memory from just a few weeks ago after watching Yangyang do the same.

Then just a few minutes later when you were both watching TV you mumbled, “I think Renjun would like this show. This is on Netflix right?”

Yangyang being the smart kid that he is, had pieces coming together in his mind, ideas that he wasn’t even sure if you knew yet. He was going to make this happen.

-

Renjun sat in front of Yangyang, a month before the end of the semester, finally working on the final project. Which, thanks to you, had not been mentioned even once since you and Yangyang started hanging out until a week ago.

After finishing his part for the day Yangyang leaned back in his chair, sighed and smiled. “I think I’m going to ask Sua from our history class out.”

Renjun choked on his drink, did Yangyang really have to pick the exact moment he took a sip of his drink to tell him this? He cleared his throat, “Since when do you like her?”

Yangyang shrugged nonchalantly, explaining that Sua worked at the cafe he was always at and at some point they just kind of hit it off.

Renjun nodded, a little excessively. In his head he was trying to figure out what the hell to do. He knew you liked Yangyang and how hurt you would be if Yangyang suddenly had a girlfriend. At this moment, you were the only thing on Renjun’s mind. “Really? I actually thought you and Y/N might be a really good match, and you guys obviously get along well.” He replied.

Yangyang hid his smirk by taking a sip of his drink, “I don’t know, Y/N is really just much more of a friend than anything. Like don’t get me wrong Y/N is cool, but I see Sua more romantically.”

Before Renjun even had time to process his words and think of the consequences, he suddenly blurted out, “Well, Y/N likes you- and has liked you since we were kids. You have to think about more feelings than just your own Yangyang. Think of Y/N.”

“Like you think about Y/N?” Yangyang replied. Renjun tilted his head in confusion, trying to understand what Yangyang was talking about. 

“I know you never grew out of that crush you had in middle school- it’s that cute childhood neighbors to lovers thing. I know that whole plan you made so I could finally pay attention to Y/N, and while I admit it worked, because Y/N is a cool friend, this plan didn’t work the way you wanted it to. I see the way you look at Y/N and every time we hang out that’s all you can talk about. I’m smarter than you Injun, I know.” 

Renjun flushed, these were emotions that he had buried deep down years ago. In just two months Yangyang had uncovered and brought his emotions to light. Emotions that had at one point been disguised as that annoying 13 year old kid that would bother you to your wit’s end and now evolved to Renjun putting your emotions before his own. Days that were once filled with him tugging on your hair or tapping on your shoulder and looking away as if it weren’t him, had now become days of texting or facetiming you regularly just to catch up like he had wanted. 

“I think you should tell Y/N how you feel, don’t underestimate your chances.” Yangyang told Renjun as they made their way out of the cafe. 

-

When Yangyang told you that he knew you liked him, that he wasn’t interested, that he was actually going to date Sua from his history class, you thought you would be more upset. Embarrassed that he knew you liked him all this time, angry that he didn’t tell you earlier, or heartbroken that your crush of almost 10 years didn’t like you like you liked him. But you weren’t. You weren’t embarrassed, or angry, or heartbroken. You felt fine, it felt like he was just telling you what he ate for lunch. “Okay, so how do you tell the difference between these crystals again?” You replied with a nod. 

“And I know you like Renjun.” He added quietly. 

You looked up suddenly, eyes wide with shock, “What?”

“Come on Y/N, I think this whole ‘Renjun annoys me to no end’ is just a ploy. Whenever we hang out he’s all you talk about, you guys FaceTime like every night, right? You smile every time he texts you, and even though you play it off as ironic shit-posting- those stories you always post with all the hearts and cheesy ass captions stopped being a joke at some point. You may not have realized it but even with Renjun as just a friend to you now, he means more to you than I do.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, “You know you’re smarter than you look, but I really don’t like you psychoanalyzing me.” 

He laughed loudly, “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t exactly have a good record with crushes, obviously. I don’t know what to do now,” you quietly answered, “Anyway this seems like a good ending point, we’ll meet one more time before the final right? Just text me if you need anything alright?” 

Before Yangyang could even stop you or try to reassure you, you were hastily packing up your things and out the door. How was he going to get the two of you together now?

-

It seemed that mother nature seemed to understand the tornado of emotions that were happening for you and Renjun, though you both had no idea about one another, what had started off as a gorgeous spring day had become a dark and rainy spring night. Even Yangyang laid in his bed, unable to sleep as he remembered that he had failed to mention or even plan out- that neither of you knew you liked each other. That would have been nice to know, but it was a little too late for that now seeing as it was like two in the morning. 

If you liked Renjun, which it sounded like you did, according to Yangyang and the more you thought about it, it really felt like you did. Not some surface level ‘I like to admire you from afar for 10 years’ crush but rather a ‘I like you and want to spend time with you and I’d hate to see you smile at anyone else like you smile at me and possibly fall in love.’ You sat straight up in bed, flashes of the lightning outside lit your room up, did you just think about falling in love with Renjun? Before you could process anymore thoughts you pulled on a coat and some shoes, grabbing the umbrella you kept by the door. You had to tell Renjun how you felt.

Stepping out of your apartment complex, you thanked the love gods for allowing Renjun to live just a few blocks away from each other and not across town. There was no doubt in your mind that by the time you reached him, you would be soaked to the bone, but you had to do this. There was no point in keeping this crush to yourself just for nothing, you had to take the risk and just hope for the best. Best case scenario, you get a boyfriend, and worst case, well then you don’t talk to him for another few years and every time you see him your heart feels like it's being stomped on. You know, something that could become a regular feeling. 

You hurried through the storm, dodging large puddles while trying your best to stay beneath the awnings of the buildings. You stopped at a light, looking out into the rain to see just how much further you had until you got to Renjun’s place. But instead you focused on the sight of someone rushing through the rain to get to the opposite end of the crosswalk. You squinted through the downpour, realizing that the person at the other end of the crosswalk was “Renjun?”

You rushed toward him, lucky that there were no cars at this hour of the night to dodge. He ran forward, meeting you in the middle, pulling your hand forward so that the umbrella covered you both. “What are you doing out here?” He asked you loudly so you could hear him over the rain. 

“I was coming to see you,” you started, meeting his eyes that told you he was waiting to hear more, “Renjun I like you. I really like you. I don’t smile, or laugh, or feel happy or even feel annoyed with anyone else like I feel when I’m with you. I want to be happy and date you, use your stupid plans to plan dates for us. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. I’ve had a crush on you since middle school, you don’t know how happy this makes me.” He beamed, using his free hand to cup your cheek.

His hands were wet, and his fingers were cold as they cupped your warm cheek. “Are you gonna kiss me or what?” You asked.

He surged forward, lips meeting your own in a passionate kiss as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips moved against his own, wrapping your free arm around his neck to pull him closer. He let his other arm fall to bring you closer by the waist, deepening the kiss. With one arm holding up the umbrella you decided to just fuck it, dropping the umbrella you placed your hand at the back of his neck.

A sudden honk made the two of you jump apart, rushing back to the end of the crosswalk to avoid getting hit by an angry driver. 

“You crazy kids! Living your movie moment! I did it!” You heard a voice yell over the pounding rain. 

“Yangyang?” Both you and Renjun called out upon catching sight of Yangyang leaning out his car window.

He smiled, gesturing for the two of you to get in the car. You both shuffled into the backseat, hands held close and sitting side by side to warm each other up after being out in the horrible weather for so long. You were both shivering, teeth chattering, and lips nearly blue from the cold. 

“Aren’t you guys glad I meddled? I mean look at you guys, all cute and cuddled up after your adorable kiss in the rain.” Yangyang giddily smiled as he shook some of the water out of hair. 

“Can you just take us back to mine, I’d like to get dry so we don’t get sick. If that’s ok with you,” Renjun asked, whispering the last bit to you. 

You nodded, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Yangyang nodded, putting the car in drive, chatting your ears off about how happy he was that the plan worked even when he didn’t plan well considering he forgot to mention that you liked each other. He told you both that he was on his way to Renjun’s to tell him that you liked him and force him to FaceTime you and confess.

He pulled up in front of the apartment complex, turning to give you a cocky smirk before you could even get out of the car or thank him for the ride, “So is Injun a good kisser?”

“This whole car ride made me realize how much you suck, seriously. I clearly made the right choice, so I hope and pray for your sake Sua has a mountain of patience, like you never shut up- ever. Thank you for the ride.” You ranted angrily before you made your way out of the car.

Yangyang’s jaw fell in fake offense, “You sure know how to pick ‘em Renjun.”

But he wasn’t met with the shocked face he thought he would see, he was instead met with a dazed, lovesick look. “Yeah I do, I might be in love.”

[intheticklecloset]

Some Kind of Way (My Hero Academia)

ShinDeku AU

Summary: Shinsou begins to realize he may have feelings for Deku, and it makes him act so out of the ordinary that his crush decides the best way to help him relax is the very thing that kickstarted his feelings in the first place.

A/N: I am so unbelievably excited to finally share this with you! This one has been waiting in the wings for quite a while! Welcome to the first fic in my official ShinDeku AU! This story takes place after the events of "Say Mercy" and creates an entirely new storyline. While these two remain good friends in the Primary Universe, in this AU, things go a little differently.

I will admit this is pretty self-indulgent, but I know I'll want to keep writing for these boys, and what better excuse than to create an alternate reality in which they get together? Cute boyfriends and lots of tickling - what more could you want? I hope you enjoy! <3 <3

Word Count: 2,275

~~~

Midoriya: Video games at my place! Kaminari and Todoroki are coming – do you wanna join??

Shinsou stared at his phone screen for so long it went dark on him three times. He’d nearly forgotten that at some point he and Deku had exchanged numbers. Their spring break had just started; today was Monday, which meant that Deku’s mom was probably at work right now, as it was just after ten in the morning.

It really shouldn’t have been this hard to reply to a text. Yet here he sat, struggling to do just that.

It’s video games, Shinsou berated himself. You’ve played video games with him before. That’s what you were doing the last time you hung out. Just answer his text!

Shinsou: Yes. I don’t know where you live, though.

Midoriya: I’ll send you the details! Can’t wait!! :D

Shinsou set his phone aside, heart racing. This is ridiculous. What’s happening to me? He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his mind flashing back to the last time he’d hung out with Deku. They’d gotten into a tickle fight, which he’d ultimately won, but there had been a…a moment. When he’d pinned Deku for the last time and ordered him to beg for mercy. The way Deku had screamed the word over and over through hysterical fits of laughter…

He swallowed. It had been so satisfying, but more than that, it had been…cute. No, adorable. Completely, utterly adorable. Deku was adorable. And for the first time, Shinsou was noticing.

He tried not to think about it as he gathered up his things and walked out the door, heading to the destination the green-haired boy had provided him with.

*

Seeing him in person was so much worse.

Deku opened up the door with a bright smile and an invitation to come inside. It was the first time Shinsou had seen him without his school uniform or hero costume on. He wore a bright yellow All Might t-shirt and blue shorts, and he was barefoot. Shinsou awkwardly took his own shoes off in the entryway and followed him into the small living room, where Todoroki was already seated on the floor.

The icy-hot hero raised a hand in greeting. Shinsou nodded at him, then took a seat as well.

“Kaminari should be here any minute,” Deku said, pulling out his phone to check for a text from the blonde. “It’s so cool to finally have friends over at my place! Make yourselves at home. We’ve got juice and soda in the fridge if you want some, and later we can have lunch together, too.” Deku smiled so brightly it lit up the whole block. “Plus I’ll get to introduce you to a racing game that’s not Mario Kart for once!”

Shinsou couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He found himself noticing things more and more. The particular shade of green that his eyes were. The spattering of freckles across his face and arms. How scarred his right arm was. How muscular he was despite his smaller stature. Shinsou noticed all of it, and it made his heart beat faster and faster. Crap, crap, crap, he thought frantically. I…I’ve got a—

Someone knocked on the door, Deku hurried to answer it, and the spell was broken. Shinsou blinked several times. Seriously, what was happening to him?

“Heyyy, it’s my man Shinsou!” Kaminari greeted enthusiastically, slapping him on the back. “And Todoroki, of course. Ready to lose some video games?”

Shinsou let out a sigh of relief, then smirked up at him. “The joke’s on you, Kaminari. Midoriya says we’re not playing Mario Kart.”

“Dude, what?” Kaminari whipped around to face Deku. It was so much easier to look at him with Kaminari in the room as well. “You can’t take my crown away like that!”

Deku grinned. “I’m introducing you to a different racing game. Kacchan and I play it sometimes – Team Sonic Racing!”

“Sonic has a racing game?” Kaminari asked, then hummed. “Well, he is a speedy little guy. I guess it makes sense.”

“Team racing?” Todoroki asked. “What does that mean?”

Deku lit up at the question, then launched into a long, rambling explanation of all the ways it differed from Mario Kart, and why it was superior, as well. After a little while they finally got to the actual playing part of it, and before they knew it, the morning hours were long gone.

*

Getting lost in the world of Team Sonic Racing did wonders for Shinsou’s mind. He was able to focus on something that wasn’t Deku, for once – even if Deku’s character of choice did cause him a lot of trouble during the races. It gave him a chance to calm down, clear his head, and get back to his normal self. At least, until a couple of hours later when it was lunchtime.

Kaminari had announced early on that he had lunch plans with some others from their class, so it was expected that he’d leave after a couple of hours. But it was a surprise to both Shinsou and Deku when Todoroki announced he was also leaving.

“My apologies,” he said, “but I got a text from my sister that asked me to meet her downtown for lunch with her and my brother. I’m…trying to get back in touch with them, as it were. I can’t really do that while I’m at the dorms.”

“That’s okay,” Deku said, sounding sincere. “I understand. Go have fun with your family.” Then he turned to Shinsou. “Do you want to stay, or do you have somewhere to be?”

Shinsou’s heart was racing again. He was about to be alone with Midoriya again.

“I…I can stay,” he said, nodding. “If that’s all right with you.”

“Of course!”

After bidding farewell to their other friends, Deku led Shinsou back into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, pulling out various things they could use to make sandwiches. Shinsou got the bread out of the pantry (after struggling for a few moments to even find the pantry), and soon they were both at work making lunch for themselves.

“How’s your spring break so far?” Deku asked.

“It’s…fine,” Shinsou murmured. He didn’t really have anything exciting to report on. “You?”

“Great! I kind of took it easy this weekend because All Might insisted I actually rest, but we trained together this morning before I invited you over for video games. We’ll train again tomorrow, too.”

Shinsou glanced at him. “It’s spring break.”

“I know, but I don’t want to stop training. I’ve got to work as hard as I can to get even stronger.”

“Rest is important, too, you know.”

Deku smiled. “You sound just like everyone else.”

“Because we’re right.”

“I’m resting more than I’m training this week. Don’t worry, Shinsou. I won’t burn myself out.”

Shinsou nodded. “Good.”

“So,” Deku continued, expertly changing the topic as he finished up his sandwich, “want to play some more after lunch? Or we could watch a movie or something instead. What do you want to do?”

“Um…” Shinsou hesitated. Again that image of Deku laughing and begging entered his mind. He shoved it away. “I…I don’t know. Midoriya,” he added quickly, before he lost his nerve, “why do you want to hang out with me so much?”

Deku went silent for a moment. “Because you’re my friend? And you’re really cool! I think it’s so awesome that you want to join the hero course, and your quirk is so useful, especially with that voice changer thing you have now, and—”

“Useful?” Shinsou turned to look at him, surprised. “No one’s ever called my quirk useful before.”

“Then no one’s really known you before,” Deku replied confidently, taking his first bite of his lunch. “Mmm, this is good! What’d you make?”

Shinsou glanced down at his half-finished sandwich and reached for some lunch meat. “To be determined.”

*

When they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Shinsou and Deku went back into the living room, where Team Sonic Racing sat waiting for them on the screen, should they continue to play it.

“Are you okay, Shinsou?” Deku asked, his voice gentler now. “You seem bothered about something.”

Dear god, was he really so easy to read? Shinsou cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I’m just…” He searched for the words. How could he explain to Deku that he was pretty sure he had a crush…on Deku? “I’m just…I don’t know. Fine.”

“You know, if you’re not up for video games anymore, we could play a different game,” Deku said. Shinsou glanced up at him, hearing the teasing tone in his voice, and his eyes widened when he saw the green-haired boy wiggling his fingers and smiling wide.

Instant. Blush.

“Uh, I-I mean…I mean, i-if you…want to, then…” Shinsou stammered, hating every word he tripped over. It had never been difficult for him to speak to Midoriya before. Why was it suddenly the hardest thing he’d ever done?

“Actually, maybe we shouldn’t have a tickle fight,” Deku announced even as he lunged for Shinsou and tackled him to the floor. “Maybe I should just tickle you! You really need to relax, Shinsou. You act like I’m about to bite you or something.”

“I d-dohohohohon’t – I cahahahahan’t help it!” he giggled, the light pinches along his sides and ribs enough to help him loosen up a little, but not enough to really make him panic just yet. He fell onto his back on the floor, letting Deku tickle all over his torso, drawing giggle after much-needed giggle out of him.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me,” Deku continued, oblivious to Shinsou’s struggle. “We’re friends! If you want to talk about something, I’m happy to listen.”

Crap, crap, crap! Shinsou brought his hands up to cover his face, growing really, truly flustered now. “I’m sohohohohohohorry, I cahahahahan’t – I cahahahaHAHAHAHAN’T!! NAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The violet-haired boy shot his arms down to try and shove Deku away when he reached his hips, squeezing with a wicked smirk on his face. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO!! MIDORYA!!”

“Relax, Shinsou~” Deku teased, swinging a leg over to straddle his friend and pin him more firmly in place, still squeezing his hips. “Sometimes it’s best to just laugh it all out, right?”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GOD, MIHIHIHIHIDORIYA!! NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!” Shinsou cackled, twisting and writhing on the ground. “YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW IT’S BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD THEHEHEHERE!!”

“Why do you think I’m tickling you there?” Deku laughed, too, finding his hip bones and pressing in deeply. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

“DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!” Shinsou cried, flustered and embarrassed but also having a lot of fun despite himself. He let out a loud shriek and kicked his legs when Deku focused on that one spot that drove him absolutely crazy. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIDORIYAHAHAHAHA!!”

Deku chuckled. “Feeling better? Feeling relaxed yet, Shinsou?”

Shinsou squealed, prying his eyes open just enough to see Deku’s huge smile, his bright eyes, his looming form over him, and the boy from 1-C simply could not take it anymore. “PLEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! MIDORIYA, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! MERCY!! MERCY MERCY MERCYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

Deku stopped, but didn’t climb off of him. Shinsou gasped for breath and looked up at him, still giggling, surprised to see a tiny blush on the boy’s freckled cheeks. He blinked a few times. “M-Midoriya?”

“I…I’m s-sorry, I, uh…” Deku stammered, blinking as well. His cheeks got even pinker. “Oh! I’ll let you go—”

Shinsou reached up faster than either of them could think and grabbed onto Deku’s arms, stopping him from climbing off just yet. He forced himself to make eye contact with the smaller boy, and when he did, what he saw there gave him the encouragement he needed to finally get this off of his chest.

“Midoriya,” he said quietly, “I think I need to tell you something.”

Deku swallowed. He suddenly seemed nervous, too. “Y-Yeah?”

Shinsou’s heart was pounding against his ribcage. “I…I kind of…like you. Like…you know. That way.”

Deku let out a little gasp in response, but he never broke eye contact. His cheeks went from pink to red. “I…I t-think I like you, too, Shinsou…”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Shinsou finally moved to sit up, wrapping an arm around Deku’s back to keep him from falling over as he did so, and when he was upright again the two of them were face-to-face. Shinsou’s eyes flicked all over Deku’s blushing features, from his shining eyes down to his lips and back up again. Then he brought his free hand up to scribble against the smaller boy’s side.

Deku immediately smiled wide, giggling slightly, and Shinsou’s suspicions were confirmed. “Ugh, you’re adorable,” he muttered, pulling him into a bear hug and burying his face in his shoulder. “You know that? Adorable, Midoriya.”

“I-I think you’re cute, too,” Deku stammered, sounding incredibly flustered.

“Only cute?” Shinsou teased, digging his fingertips into the boy’s ribs, feeling him jolt in his arms but holding him tightly all the same. “Wow, and after I just poured my heart out to you.”

“Ahahahahaha nohohohohohoho! I’m sohohohohohorry!” Deku squealed, giggling and squirming but unable to go anywhere or protect himself. He tossed his head back and laughed freely. “You’re adohohohohohorable, too! Plehehehehehease, Shinsou!”

“Too late, Midoriya,” Shinsou replied, grinning into his shoulder, feeling more confident now. He slid one tickling hand down to Deku’s hip and laughed with him when he spasmed so hard they both fell to the floor. “You said I was just cute. Now you’ll have to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Nohohohohohohohoho!” Deku cried, giggling hysterically, but it was obvious to both of them that he didn’t really want any of this to stop, and neither did Shinsou.

So it didn’t.

[mrsgiovanna]

Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

This story has been steeping in my head ever since @abbabycchio created this prompt, I hope I did this justice 😅.

No warnings, just fluff 😍💭🐞💜

Word count: 1508

The ambience in the grand ballroom was delightfully festive- soft light dancing about the glittering crystal chandeliers, the happy chattering of the partygoers mingling with the clinking of glasses and the music in the background, and the delicious scent of Giorno’s expensive cologne overtook your senses as he gracefully spun you around on the dance floor.

“Wow, you’ve gotten really good at this, everyone is practically staring at you,”

“Well practice makes perfect, we’ve been to enough of these events as it is. Come, let’s give them a show,”

Before you knew it, Giorno spun you around and caught you in a low dip, his face mere millimeters away from your own. Feeling every pair of eyes on you both, he smirked and brought you back to your original position just as the song had ended, earning many impressed murmurs from the other attendees.

“After all these years you still get flustered? I told you, I’d never drop you or let you fall,” said Giorno, through the laughs he was trying to suppress. You knew the real reason for your skittishness, but you wouldn’t dare let him know.

You had known Giorno ever since you were assigned to his elite guard when he had taken over Passione a few years ago. Your stand ability was very useful… you were able to disarm an attacker in under 10 seconds, and if the situation became really dire, you could dismember them in a minute, without so much as a hair left behind. In short your ability was terrifying. But Giorno seemed fascinated by it, you were a walking contradiction, so soft and bubbly on the outside, but something dark and menacing had to be lurking in your soul for such a stand to manifest. So he had reassigned you himself and slowly started to understand the nuances of your ability.

You excused yourself for a moment to go to the ladies room to freshen up your makeup, you were utterly exhausted, but when Giorno asked you go with him, you couldn’t refuse. Despite knowing that Giorno’s ability made him virtually untouchable and the fact that both Mista and Fugo were there as well, you still felt more at ease knowing that you were there to personally protect him.

When you rejoined the party you found Giorno nursing a drink on his own, so you took the seat next to him.

“What’s the matter? Why are you sitting here brooding on your own?” you ask, playfully mimicking the expression on his face.

“Is that really how I look? I’m fine though,” explained Giorno. He was just about to continue the conversation when you had let a small yawn escape your lips.

“Gosh, I’m sorry Giorno, what were you going to say?” you say, trying to coax the comment out of him.

“You’re exhausted, we should leave, come on, the car should be waiting for us,” said Giorno with a snap of his fingers, signaling the concierge to ready things for your exit.

“No, no, don’t worry about me, I’m fine, nothing a little caffeine can’t take care of. Besides, we still have to wait for Fugo and Mista, they haven’t emerged from that office yet,” you argued. All protests proved useless though, as Giorno sighed dramatically before picking you up and heading to the exit.

“You know I hate having to repeat myself, you’re clearly tired, we can wait for those two at the villa, at least you’ll be a bit more comfortable there.” There was a bite in Giorno’s voice that told you not to argue with him. As he gently set you down on your feet, the car drove up to you both. The drive back to the villa was a quiet one, the young Don focusing his attention outside, while you looked at him, noting how he had matured in the few years since taking over Passione, the soft innocence in his face being replaced with a mature handsomeness. He’d also gotten a lot taller and broader, experiencing a growth spurt that took everyone, including himself, by surprise.

“Thanks for looking out for me, it’s sweet, I appreciate it,”

“You’d do the same for me, it’s only natural,” he replied, his attention still focused on the moving scenery outside the car.

“I know… still… Are you angry? You’ve been like this since earlier on, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you, I just didn’t want you to stop yourself from having fun on my account,” you apologized. Little did you know that Giorno was actually troubled by his own behaviour, and found it difficult to face you without his own face turning a rosy shade of pink.

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong, I guess my lack of sleep is getting the better of me as well. I’m sorry,”

You finally arrived at the villa, and followed Giorno to one of the lounges. You threw yourself onto the comfortable couch and started to take off your heels, while he pulled off his bow tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt, sighing in relief.

“I’ll brew us some coffee, it seems like we both need it,” offered Giorno, which you accepted with a polite smile, while checking your phone for any communication from Mista or Fugo. You were concerned but also knew how powerful they both were so you decided to put your head down and relax for just a few moments.

Giorno walked in to find you huddled in one corner of the plush couch, the chill you felt evident in the goosebumps visible on your exposed skin. Getting a soft blanket and his laptop, he covered you so that you wouldn’t be cold any longer, and settled down next to you to work quietly while you slept, not wanting to disturb you, but also not wanting to leave you alone.

Every now and again, you would wriggle around and murmur something unintelligible, until you had somehow found yourself snuggled up to Giorno’s arm. Gazing at you affectionately, he decided to give in to his own exhaustion, put away his work and comfortably wrapped his arms around you. A content hum escaped his lips before he quickly fell asleep as well.

A few hours pass like that, with you blissfully unaware of what, or rather, who you were using as a comfortable pillow, until the room was bathed in ambient morning light. You wake up to a hand gently drawing circles on your arm, enjoying the gentle touch in your half woken state, until, a pang of panic set in when realized exactly where you were, you sprang upright, fully awake and aware of your situation.

“Buongiorno tesoro mio, did you sleep well?” asked Giorno, the slight smile he wore being evident in the lightness of his voice.

“Giorno, I’m so sorry, I feel mortified… I… oh my God, you’re my boss… just fire me please… better still, I quit, so this will be my…” you rambled on, until Giorno cut you off as he also sat upright next to you.

“Tesoro… would you just calm down? While having you quit would work in my favor for what I’m about to ask you, I reject that… resignation? If you could call it one… either way, I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now… so here goes-Would you like to have dinner with me? Maybe tonight? No mafia business or anything, just you and I, out on a date,”

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, and you felt as if you’d forgotten how to breathe as hopeful green eyes searched your face for a positive answer. Building up the courage to look at him, your heart calmed down when you saw how earnestly he looked at you. The man in front of you wasn’t Don Giovanna, he was just a kind, handsome gentleman asking for your company… he was just Giorno.

“I’d really like that Giorno, thank you for asking me,” you said with a softer voice than usual, trying to contain the bubbly feeling in your chest.

“Great, then that’s settled, I’ll pick you up at six,”

Just as you were about to speak, you hear a commotion coming from the direction of the front door, realizing it was Mista and Fugo returning.

“Wow, took you guys long enough, what happened? Are you guys okay?” you asked, relieved that they both returned safely.

“Yeah, we’re fine, just exhausted… what are you even doing here?” replied Mista, speaking through a yawn.

You and Giorno exchanged a glance, smiling knowingly but chose rather to stay quiet. You were both saved from having to entertain any more questions from the complaints of Mista’s sex pistols.

“Alright, alright, you guys need some sleep and sustenance, I’ll make you guys some breakfast while you rest…”

“I’ll help you,” offered Giorno, wanting to spend more time with you.

And with that you both left the room, quietly enjoying each other’s company in that sweet domestic scenario, all the while thinking about what could transpire later on.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Five)

Chapter Five: Royal Blue Napkins

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: i have totally reinvented the timeline of the show, just go with me. also...this chapter will take you on a RIDE.

Going home that night and getting into bed with her fiance was difficult for Y/N. Of course she knew it was technically wrong to have kissed Spencer back, but the problem is that she enjoyed it so much. Too much, probably. And that was alarming. Was it just because she was bored of kissing the same person for the past...what..11 years and just needed a (really) good kiss before she spent the rest of her life kissing the same man? Or was it because she knew that every neuron in her brain was usually firing at top speed at the near mention of Spencer Reid let alone finally know how her brain acted (nearly exploded) while kissing him?

The wedding was less than a month away now and Hotch was gracious enough to allow Y/N extra time out of the office, when things were calm, to meet with her wedding planner to finalize some decisions about the cake, venue, napkins, all that good stuff. In the middle of it, she caught herself wondering whether or not Spencer would like the color of napkin she chose, instead of her actual fiance. That was enough, the thought of Spencer now invaded officially every aspect of her life. She didn’t know what to do so she cornered JJ one day in her office and hurriedly shut the door behind her.

“JJ, I am freaking out about all this wedding stuff. I-I don’t know if I picked the right color for the napkins, oh God, I don’t even like royal blue! I just picked it because Grant likes it but what if it sucks because I don’t actually like it and it doesn’t match with the centerpieces and I-” she rambled but JJ promptly cut her off.

“Hey! Y/N, relax, take a seat. Take a deep breath.” Y/N followed her suggestions that felt more like orders and JJ watched her carefully, she wasn’t a profiler but she spent enough time around them to have picked up on subtle clues. She knew the woman sitting in front of her was an anxious mess and it was not about the napkins, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know if I like the napkins, JJ.” Y/N’s brows came together and she suddenly felt like crying, she couldn’t explain it, but she felt it.

“Y/N, you and I both know that napkins don’t make or break weddings.” JJ sent her a pointed look and Y/N began to feel small. She picked at her nails.

“Yeah? Well what does?” Y/N asked vaguely.

“What breaks weddings is an absence of love, Y/N.” She said simply and Y/N couldn’t help the frown that crept up on her face, but the blonde said nothing more.

The walk back to her desk was spent trying with extreme difficulty to not split her lip open from biting it too hard. The energy in the entire office was off, although Spencer has a new specific energy to him. He seems lighter somehow, he feels lighter too. Morgan doesn’t know exactly what happened between them but he could sense the shift in Reid’s behavior.

They’ve interacted, though briefly. Spencer pretended there was nothing wrong between them, while Y/N mulled over every interaction. Spencer literally had nothing left to lose, she’d made her choice and he’d accepted that, made peace with it even. He’d even gone as far as putting himself out there on the market. It was time to move on. There was just one aspect of the upcoming month that would make it extremely difficult to do so, so he made a decision.

“Hey, Y/N. Could I talk to you for a second?” Spencer said, leaning with his elbows over her desk as it neared their lunchtime.

“Yeah, of course, just one second... just saving this document. What’s up?” She smiled as she stared up at him, she was sure her heart was about to light on fire in her chest with the mere eye contact.

“Um, so you know how I’ve been meaning to visit my mom back in Vegas for a while now but I haven’t got the chance?” He began, idly playing with one of the candies in the candy bowl that was placed for guests.

“Yeah, of course! Are you planning on going?” She smiled wider, knowing just how much love this man had in his heart for his wonderful mother. Y/N had met Diana when she came into the office a few years back, actually she was the only one who Diana allowed to spend time with while the rest were in the field. Apparently, Spencer had told her more than enough information about Y/N before in his daily letters. Diana liked her years before she even met her.

“Yeah, I’m taking a week off, actually. I’m gonna spend it with her, I’ve missed her a lot.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly as he thought of the week off.

“That’s so awesome Spencer! Will you tell her how much I’ve missed her, oh, I know! I’ll just write her a letter and you can take it with you. When are you going by the way? Do I have time to write it?” She worried slightly, grabbing a pen in preparation and making Spencer laugh lightly at her excitement.

“Yes, yes you’ll have time. I’m leaving on the 16th of August, already booked the ticket.” His voice faltered slightly as he said the date.

“Wait, the 16th? But that means…” He won’t attend the wedding.

“I know, I’m sorry I can’t make it.” He genuinely frowned, knowing just how upset this would make her. Despite their feelings for one another, they were the closest of friends.

“Th-that’s okay! Um, we’ll just send you all the, uh, pictures and stuff.” Her bright smile faltered and Spencer swore he heard a tremble in her voice, the one she made when she was trying to hide how upset she really was.

“Yeah, send me all the pictures, I’m really sorry again, Y/N.” He sent her a look of sympathy, but she understood, he didn’t want to be there.

“No, no it’s okay. I get it, there’s only so many other weeks in the year you could take off, I guess.” she laughed bitterly, very obviously hurt, “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go now. I have something um, for Hotch--Hotch asked for something.” She picked up a random file from her desk and quickly made her way across the bullpen and Spencer’s eyes stopped following her when she entered Hotch’s office. He released a heavy sigh and turned on his heels to leave the building for a lunch that was anywhere but there.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?” Hotch asked, barely looking up from his file at first but then her silence intrigued him to look up, spotting her watching from the window as Spencer left, “Everything alright?” His voice startled her and he immediately took in her glassy eyes and the nervous trembling of her fingers.

“Huh? Oh, um, yes, everything’s fine. Did you...ask for these?” She took a look at what she’d actually picked up and realized they were a bunch of useless forms that the unit chief certainly did not need to waste his time on. It was hard to hide his smirk, having figured out what had happened.

“Do you need to take a seat, Y/N?” He saw right through her, of course he did. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and shook her head.

“Did you know?” She asked in a small voice.

“He ran it by me, yes. I have to approve his time off. If it’s any consolation, I tried to-” He begad, but she interrupted.

“No, please. I’ve heard enough. Thanks Hotch.” She frowned as she made her way out of his office, praying that her tears would--just for once--stay within her waterline.

After that, Y/N barely spoke with Spencer. She found it hard to find the line between being upset with him and understanding why he’s doing what he’s doing. On one hand, she selfishly wanted her best friend to be at her wedding, but on the other, she understood that that was a huge thing to ask from the other man who loved her. He loved her. He loves her. That’s mind boggling to Y/N. Spencer loves her? Even almost 3 weeks after his confession, it’s all she can think about. He’s in love with her.

It was almost time for him to leave for Vegas. Despite her anger with Spencer, she still wrote Diana a letter. Upon finishing and sealing it, she realized she hadn’t even mentioned the wedding once. The (supposedly) single most important event that she would ever attend in her lifetime hadn’t even crossed her mind. She didn’t even give him the letter, she just left it on his desk for him to take. Despite that, Spencer still smiled at the fact that she’d written his mother a letter. His curiosity was killing him, but he’d just ask his mom what she’d written. At the end of the day before he left, he paused at Y/N’s desk, but she refused to look up.

“Bye, Y/N. Um, congratulations in advance.” Spencer spoke, clutching his messenger bag tightly, hoping she’d just look at him once. Hoping he’d get to see her eyes one last time before her soul was tied to another man’s for the rest of eternity.

“Bye, Spencer...have a safe flight.” She replied quietly, busying herself with whatever she was working on on her computer. A beat passed between them as Spencer waited to meet her eyes, but the moment never came. Pre-love confession Spencer would have gone on and on about how he technically had no control over whether or not it would be a safe flight, but now...now he knew his voice was the last thing she’d want to hear. His shoulders involuntarily slumped as he began to walk away from the love of his life. He knew he couldn’t be at that wedding, he just knew it. Hasn’t he been through enough already? Was life that adamant about making him hurt so badly?

But alas, fate was never on their side. Moments before boarding the plane to Vegas and barely three days before her wedding, the team was called in for an emergency case. She had taken a few days off before the wedding to get everything sorted and thankfully, the case was local so she didn’t have to book any hotel rooms or coordinate with the pilots of the jet. 

She had invited Garcia out with her to get a bridal manicure and pedicure on her lunch break, since she was the only one available.

“Pen, are you sure they don’t need you right now? I don’t want to interrupt the case.” Y/N signed into the phone.

“Trust me, Y/N/N, they don’t need me right now, besides this is the least I could do. All your plans for the week-of have been kinda ruined by this case. I wanna help you out the best I can! So I’m picking you up in 10 and we’re getting our nails done.” Y/N knew better than to argue with Garcia so she relented.

Near the end of their appointment, Garcia got a call from Hotch, “He’s what?! Oh no! Is he okay?! He’ll be okay, right?” Garcia half-panicked, sending Y/N right into a panic with her. Garcia paused and Hotch spoke over the phone, “Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up and took a deep breath.

“Garcia, what happened! Is everyone okay?” Y/N asked hurriedly.

“Uh, no...actually Reid got shot in the field. The unsub shot him in the knee while trying to aim for the victim.” Garcia spoke slowly so as to not alarm her, but it was too late, Y/N was already pulling her hands away from the nail tech, who was almost done.

“WHAT?! Garcia! We have to go now! Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital? What hospital is he at? I’ll drive.” Y/N panicked, her breathing getting more and more shallow by the second.

“Y/N/N, calm down! Calm down! He’s fine, okay? He’s in surgery and you should absolutely not be driving right now. Take a few deep breaths please.” Her emotions were already all over the place because of the damn wedding, and now she had to worry about Spencer getting shot? Oh Lord, it was too much for her to handle.

“Garcia, I think I’m gonna pass out.” Y/N fanned her face and the waterworks began. Garcia quickly asked the nail tech if she could get Y/N some water.

“Oh! Oh, Y/N, baby don’t cry, please. He’ll be okay, he’ll probably be on crutches for a while but he’ll be fine.” Garcia tried to console her but the tears just kept coming. Y/N should have felt embarrassed whilst sobbing in the middle of the nail salon, but she was too overwhelmed to care at the moment. 

“I’m so sorry Garcia, it’s just all too much. I don’t want royal blue napkins, Garcia! I don’t even think I want a damn wedding! And I-I can’t believe Spence just got shot! This all just feels so wrong! You know what, this is all just one big warning sign from the universe, isn’t it?! And--and I don’t even want to marry Grant!” She blurted randomly in her fit of tears and she stopped crying out of realization of what she’d just confessed. Garcia gasped and her friend met her eyes, they stared at each other for a moment before Y/N broke out into tears again at the confession.

It was true.

She didn’t want to marry him.

Garcia apologized profusely to the nail techs and paid quickly before leading an almost hysterical Y/N out of the salon. 

Y/N clung to Penelope and sobbed into her shoulder on the sidewalk, “I don’t want to marry him, Garcia.”

“Y/N, the wedding is tomorrow.” Garcia’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of her friend being so broken. Y/N shook her head and sniffled loudly, “Are you sure you’re not just super upset about Spencer getting shot?” Garcia continued, wanting Y/N to be absolutely sure of what she’s deciding.

Y/N pulled away from the embrace and stared at her friend, “M-maybe? I don’t know, I-I don’t know, Pen. Oh God, the wedding is tomorrow.” Y/N covered her face with her hands and tried to rub away all the stress and tears.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go see Spencer and make sure he’s alright, then you can take all the time you need to decide whether you want to call the wedding off or not, alright? How does that sound?” Garcia reasoned with her, slowly trying to remove her hands from her face.

Y/N nodded and took a few deep breaths, wiping away the last of her tears, “Let’s go see Spencer.”

When they’d arrived at the hospital, Spencer wasn’t out of surgery yet. The team was waiting around in the hospital chairs. The hospital felt cold, so unbelievably cold. Maybe it was Y/N literally getting cold feet. The team decided not to ask about the unmistakable redness around her eyes and nose. They just chalked it up to being scared for Spencer, but it was so much more than that. 

She hadn’t even looked at him before he left. She hadn’t seen his eyes or his face so full of its color in so long. When the Dr. announced he was out of surgery and that he should be waking up any minute, the team had decided to let Y/N in first. The sight of him sleeping in the hospital bed made her stomach lurch. She found it hard to contain her tears. It was almost as if her hand had a mind of its own as it reached out to smooth down his wild hair and caress his cheek. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head and watched as his eyelids fluttered slightly, but stayed closed. She swallowed heavily and wiped her eyes before walking back out to the team.

“He’s not awake yet, but I, uh...have to go. There’s something I need to take care of. Pen, update me when he wakes, please.” Y/N tried as hard as she could to even out her voice, but it trembled with every other word. Garcia nodded and before anyone could even say a word, she was out of the building. She checked the time and saw that Grant’s shift wasn’t over yet, and she had the house to herself for a bit.

As soon as she made it in, she picked the two biggest suitcases she owned and began to fill them with her things. She’d spent over 7 years in this apartment with Anderson, so many memories and so many laughs were spent here. 

But she couldn’t do it anymore. 

She didn’t want to have to go through a divorce, she couldn’t go through that. She’d rather not marry him at all. Within two hours, she had packed 7 years worth of her life into two huge suitcases. It was sad and she shed more than a few tears mulling over memories. But she saw her future and it wasn’t with Anderson. She placed the suitcases near the doorway and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. Surely enough, Grant came through the door at exactly 5:53 pm, just like he did every day.

“Babe? You home? Hey, whose bags are these?” He said, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” He asked, spotting her in the kitchen with a glass of red wine and tears gathering in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Anderson frowned.

“Um, so...I’ve been thinking. A lot, actually. And I kept asking myself why we waited so long to finally get married. We got engaged in college, Grant. That was ages ago. Most people get married like, right after graduation, but we didn’t do that. We moved here together, I shifted my entire life to fit with yours and yeah I have a great job, but I’m not happy.” She paused to sniffle, “And I think I’m not happy because this isn’t the life I want for me. I think we waited so long because we secretly didn’t really want it to happen, if I’m being honest. But now that it’s happening, I don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry. I just don’t see my future with you.” She frowned as tears clouded her vision. She temporarily let go of her wine glass to slip off her engagement ring and place it in front of him.

“I’m calling off the wedding.” She stated with finality. He looked devastated.

“Y/N, is this a joke?” He frowned, anger settling in.

“No, it’s not a joke, Grant. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to get back whatever I can from all the money we’ve spent on everything, but I’m leaving. Thank you for giving me so many irreplaceable memories. They mean more than you know.” She wiped her tears and got up from her seat.

“Wait, so does this mean you’re quitting the job?” He asked, still in awe of the situation.

“No, I’m staying at the BAU, I love it there, Hotch is a great boss.”

“So that’s it? You’re leaving me?” For the first time that night, his eyes welled up with tears.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m staying with Penelope until I can find a place to rent.” They hugged one last time and she took her things and left. 

Just like that. 

And she’d never felt lighter. She’d never felt more free.

***

Anderson had requested a transfer to a different unit and so they barely saw each other at work. Everything was going really well actually. Over the past two weeks, she allowed herself only one day of wallowing but her priorities were finding a new apartment to live in. They’d already spent so much money on the wedding, so it was difficult to be spending at the moment, but thankfully Garcia’s freezer was full of individually packed meals from the catering company. She lived off those so far and it’d probably stay that way for the next few months or at least until she found her own freezer to fill with individually packed meals.

She hadn’t seen Spencer since that day in the hospital because apartment hunting in DC turned out to be a nightmare. But it’s fine, she’s been getting all her information from Garcia since she’d been performing daily checkups on him since he’d started his medical leave. Apparently, the ever-so-stubborn Spencer decided to continue giving his guest lectures even on his crutches. Ever since Rossi joined the team, he’d been taking Spencer to different universities and they’d often give lectures together. Y/N should’ve been glad that he’d been leaving the house, but it was so hard not to worry about him. He should be coming in today, his two weeks of medical leave are technically over, but he can’t go out into the field yet.

Also, the team was about to get a new member. Y/N was super excited, she was the one who got to show new members around the office and introduce them to everyone. She was also super excited to finally see Spencer. The ding of the elevator sounded and Y/N leapt from her seat upon seeing Spencer waddle in on his crutches through the glass doors, which were being opened for him by a young-looking blonde woman.

“Spencer!” Y/N exclaimed, bounding over to him and making sure to hug him gently as to not topple him over or hurt him.

“Hey!” He smiled, attempting to return the hug without his arms.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally back! The place was starting to get a little depressing!” She smiled, a new happiness filling her. She only noticed the woman standing so close to Spencer when she pulled away.

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” He smiled at her fondly, resting on his crutches. “Oh, Y/N, this is Agent Ashley Seaver. She’s the newest member of the BAU and actually my girlfriend.”

previous chapter/next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!

taglist: @hopefulfangirl24 @spoiledtunaprincess @ellvswriting @drreidshands @pumpkin-reads @ssa-pretty-boy @thebadassbitchqueen @youareperrrfectls @literaila  @greeny-kitten @reidcm @holytrashvoidpersona @hopebaker @word-scribbless @fellintotartarus @criminalmindzjunkie @jpegjade @randomfandomshitposts @differentkettleoffishalltogether @imjusthereformggcontent @ confused-and-really-hungry  @theseuscmander @purifycrowley @l0ve-0f-my-life @mrs-dr-reid @reidseidetic  @onceuponathreetwoone @mosleylanes @eevee0722 @fear-less-write-more @andiebeaword @shameleswhorehourstm @missyredbean @moonshinerbynight @mggpleasedontlookhere 

COMMENT ON THE CHAPTERS/SEND ASKS TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST

[daesungindistress]

The five hands pic was posted alongside a pic of his screen, noting the time on New Year’s. Maybe he was trying to mark a new beginning since it is a new year. But then, he's always been difficult to read.

Mark a new beginning by bringing back something old? You might be onto something ;) I’ll explain below.

Alright y’all, I’m back, and with a new take on his post. One that, though I had a half-formed idea about it the day he posted, New Year’s Eve my timezone, I didn’t have the peace of mind or mental clarity to make sense of it at the time, there in the thick of so much unexpected emotion, yours and mine.

While I’m undecided about how much stock I want to place in this, preferring to take a guarded approach to Jiyong and his characteristically cryptic Instagram posts from now on, I think it's worth considering. The few fans I’ve shared it with privately have agreed that it “sounds a lot like Ji.” Disclaimer: this is not an excuse for the disturbance he caused or the pain he inflicted, whether he meant to or not, whether he’s out of touch with fans or just doesn’t care. Think of this more as a genuine, good faith effort to understand what could be going through his head. Because, no, putting aside my initial impression heavily colored by the years (literally years!) of negative experiences here, I can’t agree with the shit stains of this fandom and their misplaced gloating. Jiyong did not “say BIGBANG is 5.” But he did say something. And I think his message without words deserves a closer look.

So here we go:

Quite a few VIPs are taking his post as a comeback teaser for a GD solo followed by BIGBANG. And while that may be the case, I wouldn’t be surprised if it... are you ready for it... had little to with G-Dragon or BIGBANG at all. Those two images side-by-side may have been a generic call for unity and cooperation for the world at large as we leave behind a year defined by distance and division.

First of all, it was his first post of 2021. The time stamp on his screen read 1:11 1/1/2021... really driving home the number 1. Unity, obviously.

In the background the painting Millionaire Nurse by Richard Prince is projected over him. He is wearing what appears to be a surgical mask, an instantly recognizable symbol of the sickness that dominated the year 2020, and a piece of protective equipment we carry with us into 2021 because, with cases still surging and restrictions tightening, the fight isn’t over. What’s more, of all the pics in this photoshoot, I noticed he chose one in which the word NURSE is highly visible in bright lettering across the front of his mask. A much-needed message of hope and healing for a world driven into quarantine by COVID-19. He hopes 2021 will be the year we’ll finally conquer this contagion that keeps us apart.

Still with me? Here’s where things get interesting:

In a recent interview promoting his Nike Paranoise 2.0 shoes Jiyong was asked about his one wish for 2021. “What is the 2021 'YOUTOPIA' you are hoping for?”

“I hope the world becomes healthier,” Jiyong answered. “I think that’s what everyone wants right now.”

Health and healing for the world. No mention of music, solo or otherwise. His mind is on the state of the world, not the state of BIGBANG. And he assumes everyone is on the same page.

But wait! There’s more:

That photo of interconnected hands was first posted to his IG back in 2016 but resurfaced recently in October 2020 when someone (presumably one of his or TOP's art friends, I’m not sure who this guy is) reposted it as a visual accompaniment to a rambling criticism of a country more fractured than ever before by politics and policy as its people grapple with this novel coronavirus. Jiyong came across it with his personal account and slapped a heart on it, liking it very much.

Thinking about it, trying to get a sense of where his mind may have been back then, this was roughly around the time his Paranoise shoes were being prepped for release, about which he explained, “Our footsteps are the result of our decisions. I believe you can completely change the meaning behind these sneakers depending on how you wear them.”

“Change the meaning,” he says. That isn’t limited to footwear, you know; depending on how it’s presented, it is also possible to change the meaning behind a photo. And that may be what Jiyong has just done. It's not about BIGBANG anymore, it's about something bigger than BIGBANG.

That IG post by Matt Carey Williams may well have been the first time Jiyong viewed that iconic photo from his past in a new light, through someone else's eyes, being applied broadly to something outside of BIGBANG. Perhaps he saved it and has been holding onto it in the months since, waiting for the right time to use it to make a similar statement of his own about the godawful year we’ve just left in the rearview mirror. One that will be remembered by (to name just a few) rigorous hand washing, religious mask wearing, and to the detriment of mental health worldwide (in an effort to preserve physical health)... widespread social distancing.

Like everyone, Jiyong is tired of the distance, done with the divide, fed-up with closed borders and stay-at-home orders. Fatigued by this seemingly endless cycle of self- and state-imposed separation. Family, friends, and fans advised (and in some cases required) to steer clear of each other? So this picture, this bold reminder in black and white of skin-to-skin contact, hands joined with other hands, connecting person to person... that is the return to normalcy Jiyong would like to see in the near future.

In another ask, anon observed, “It's entirely possible [Jiyong] just doesn't think Seungri has a right to infringe on his own memories or sense of ownership of BIGBANG.”

I thought that was insightful. And important to keep in mind going forward. Because unless they plan to ignore everything from their past and run from it forever (an impossible feat), sooner or later Jiyong, Youngbae, Seunghyun, and Daesung will have to take steps to take back BIGBANG. Take back their brand, their music, their art. Their memories together and their past work shouldn’t stay trapped with and tainted by their former member for the rest of their days.

This doesn’t have to be Jiyong signaling a return to the past, or even asking that we remember it; instead, I see it as him reclaiming it. Owning it in ways that are, well, his own, even if that means going about it with ambiguity. Infusing old things with new meaning in a new year ripe with the potential for new beginnings.

[narcissasdaffodil]

what are the things you like and dislike about Marisol and what makes her your favourite?

I love any excuse to ramble about Marisol, so this one will likely get long. In addition, I do ramble a lot naturally, I work my way through all of my thoughts first, so some stuff I write about might appear unrelated, but I promise I’m going somewhere here! As a second note, this has already started turning into a self analysis thing, but I feel that’s the easiest way to do this. Parts of what I’m writing are very personal here.

- Marisol’s a character who’s really close to my heart. When I first played the game I fell for both her and Lottie at first sight. Her route is my favourite route, I struggle with simple and easy routes and am a sucker for a good slow burn. When I first played Season 2, I was starting to recover with my own mental health issues and building myself as a person while learning to not treat myself badly for my own mental health. I’ve experienced further self growth in that time, but the game itself helped me go further with my self journey. Having a distraction that absorbed me so fully and got me interested in the journeys of the characters was appreciated during that time.

- It took me a while to fully come out myself as a lesbian and to sort out who I believed I truly was from the mess in my head. Part of that was due to having a heavily homophobic ex bestfriend so for my own safety I came out as bisexual and let myself believe I was bi, so I could avoid extra questions. Once I was free from her, I came out fully as a lesbian, as I realised how much of my beliefs about myself with my sexuality were a lie and that it was okay to not be attracted to men at all. The reason I’m mentioning this is mainly that I understand her fear about coupling up and why it took so long for her to face her fear there. I saw so much of my younger self in her, and I do relate to her heavily in addition. Actually coming out fully can be difficult, especially if you’re uncertain at the start, or have doubts whether the people around you will be accepting.

- I do understand her commitment issues, especially if she’s been burned in the past. I’ve never been in a relationship at all myself, and am in no rush to do that. I want to do it in the future, but on my terms and when I’m comfortable enough with myself. Being single and never having had a relationship isn’t something I’m ashamed of either, real life isn’t how they portray in the media and wanting to wait and being single in general shouldn’t be stigmatised. People have judged me for waiting before, but I just block that out. Marisol pretending she doesn’t want commitment is likely a defence mechanism to prevent herself getting hurt again. When she finally couples up with MC, she lets go from her previous reservations and becomes very loving and fiercely loyal, which proves she does want commitment but is scared of it.

- I relate to her with the analysing people too. I do that myself as a defence mechanism as I’ve been hurt in the past multiple times by ex friends and other people. So I have to gain an accurate reading on people before I can trust them fully. That still does cause issues for me as I mess up still, but most of my readings on people have been accurate, especially recently. I base whether I like someone on their interactions with others as well as myself, mainly as people can and do be two faced. I’ve had people suck up to me, and be rude to my friends and I’ve also had the reverse.

- I love her growth during her route and it helps give me hope myself that I can eventually get better at trusting people and allowing myself to be more vulnerable with people. I was so happy when she finally coupled up with MC, I found myself doing a happy squeal and was relieved to have the house to myself! It takes a lot for me to have a connection to a character, but once I do I care with all of my heart.

- To follow on from the analysing people point, something else I remembered. Analysis can definitely come from being isolated, which I can confirm there. From Year 1 until Year 4 of primary school, I was entirely alone as my only friend had left me, which had a serious impact on me. It landed me with a fear of rejection so I preferred to be alone. I’m still working through that and helping myself grow. Having connections with people does scare me, a lot, so I do find myself scaring people off by accident or not trying at all. Connections usually appear from people seeking me out, I’ve gained actual people recently through that. People abandoning me will always be a worry for me, which is why I do find myself apologising far too much and doing everything I can to maintain connections with people until there’s a valid reason to let them go.

- I also struggle with being open and vulnerable with my feelings so I can relate heavily to her there. I have to have a strong connection with someone or trust them enough to properly be honest with them. Meaningful connections do take a while to develop for me. She also feels so real and true to life, that’s something I’d likely say about most of the characters of this game.

- She’s also very observant and picks up the subtleties of people in general. I do that too, but I don’t base my entire reading off my observations and what I hear from others. A weakness for her is likely her tendency to rely heavily on reading people over getting to know them herself, and basing her perceptions of people on her observations.

- She can come across as quite cold on first impression which I relate to. I’m like an onion or a pineapple, my spiky exterior/ multiple layers put people off getting to know me, but once they get past my walls and spiky exterior I’m a very warm and loving person. That observation there is based off what people have told me. I do scare people off without meaning to. Marisol as a character does divide opinions herself, which makes sense. I tend to lean towards characters who are more underrated and divide opinions, the more popular characters don’t tend to draw my attention. There’s been exceptions to that rule, and it’s not deliberate either, it’s just the type I automatically default to. Once Marisol trusts people and lets down her walls she’s so loving and so warm. That’s definitely something I’m drawn to in a LI, someone who you have to work through their layers to find who they truly are.

-She’s also very ambitious, which is something we do share there. I do have life goals and have been called intelligent by a lot of people. She’s pretty stubborn and set in her opinions too, which I also relate to. I have experienced personal growth opinions wise, but it has to be me making the decision and coming to that realisation myself. Marisol’s like that too, I feel.

- Right, this is getting so super long! If you’re still with me, wow. Anyway, something I dislike about her is definitely the game playing. Having her use Graham to try and make MC jealous is pretty cold, especially when Graham actually liked her. Playing through Casa did hurt for that reason. I was slightly hesitant about taking her from him, as they seemed to be really compatible during Casa, but I worked through that pretty quickly due to her being the only one I was compatible with.

I think that’s finally it, in terms of analysis points. This has been sitting about for a while, so I’ll finally publish it!

[yuulina-vre]

Gifting you a new life

Trouble

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Reader insert

Warnings: Mild angst

word count: 2388 words

Part: Five

Summery: Y/N get’s a letter that is upsetting and bringing up some part of her life she rather forget. Steve get’s to know Bucky.

Masterlist

* * *

Y/N stands in the kitchen, envelops and newspaper in hand, sorting them. Steve’s looking through the shelves, probably hunting for some snack before Bucky will arrive in two hours or so. It’s quiet, content. A truly normal, but peaceful Saturday evening. It takes her a minute until she has sorted the envelopes for bills, Steve’s, and her own letters. Then she dins it. The envelope in her hand is yellow, not the ordinary white. The address is scribbled per hand with crooked and smeared lines. Handwritten. She can’t shake the feeling of knowing this handwriting but there’s no picture to it. She just knows that it’s familiar. And it's not the first this week. She rips it open and reads it over, stopping shortly and frowning before reading it again and again. Suddenly she feels confused, unsure, and maybe a little bit angry. It only makes her angrier the longer she reads the words, sees the handwriting and the name on the end. She makes a noise between a sigh and a grunt which makes Steve turn away from the cereals and faces her. “What are you looking at?” She startles, looks up at him, and folds the paper to shove it back in the envelope. “Just a letter from my Mom. Nothing important.” It’s a lie. The letters not from her mom or dad, not from any of her friends. But if she tells Steve who’s letter it is then he will get worried. She doesn’t want him to worry, not today. Never if possible. Especially not when he’s going to finally get to know a potential love interest, maybe even getting himself a ate and something from his dad back. Steve frowns at her and comes closer. “And that makes you sigh like you want to punch the wall and cry at the same time.” Y/N cringes a bit and quickly searches for a new excuse. “Wasn’t a really good letter.”

“Is your dad okay? He was sick, right?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Out of hospital and refusing to rest like always.” She smiles at him and stuffs the envelope in her bag. “What are you doing here anyway? We're supposed to eat dinner in two hours.” Steve raises his eyebrows and looks at the clock on the wall. “It’s half-past four. I’m starving now and Bucky won’t be here before six.” Bucky and Steve had texted on and off yesterday after the grocery store. Steve finally able to talk to him after having met him properly. Bucky had told him when he’s going to come over and that he will bring beer for the game. Also asking a lot of questions relating to dinner, bringing something else and all that. Y/N found it endearing but slightly annoying the Steve didn’t even listen to her rambling about Tony’s plans for the next school year. “Right.” Steve shrugs at her but studies her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” She curses herself lightly. The answer was way too rushed, maybe even a bit too fast. “I mean… I – I didn’t decide on what to make for dessert, yet. And I have to call Tony because of next year’s schedule and my classes. We didn’t get everything finished yesterday.”

“Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“I- I rather have it sorted out today. I’ll be quick, I promise.” It’s not all true but true enough. He had met Tony yesterday between classes, talked to him about peter and some of her classes for the next year, and listened to his ideas. She had some lingering questions but nothing that can’t wait until Monday. She somehow feels pressured to lie to Steve, when in reality there’s no real reason to do so. “Okay.” Steve stretches the last letter, not quite believing her, his eyes falling on the letter in her hand again. It’s clear to see that Steve wants to say something else but holds himself back, probably sensing that she won’t answer him anyway. Y/N sighs and puts the letter down, looking at Steve. “I’m alright. I promise. How about, instead of filling your stomach with things that won’t do anything for your hunger, you go upstairs and find something to wear?”

“Why?”

“Are you really going to meet Bucky in your paint speckled shirt and dirty sweatpants?” She scoffs a little, looking him up and down with a frown. Steve looks down on himself. “Right, Not really… nice.”

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going to shower and redress. Call me if you need help.”

“With what? I can’t really have the kitchen burning because you tried to boil water.”

“That was one time and the kitchen didn’t burn!”

“It almost did!” She laughs at Steve’s red face and watches him grumbling leave the kitchen. She looks after Steve for a moment longer before her gaze switches back to the letter on the table. “When will you finally leave me alone?” She walks into the living room and to her smartphone on the coffee table, picking it up and looking through her contact until she finds the Stark-Potts contact and pressing on the calling button. It rings a few times, time enough for Y/N to get a little lost on her thoughts. Her nerves are almost frayed with fear. She doesn’t want to think back at her relationship with Rumlow. It was one of her worst mistakes she ever made and apparently, he has not forgotten about her. He keeps popping up in her life, mostly when she believes she finally left him behind her. In her old life. As if he wants to remind her that he’s still there and still waiting for her to realize that she belongs to him and forever will.

“Stark-Potts. Here is Pepper.” Pepper's words rip her out of her memories of an old life, almost making her flinch. “Oh Pepper, here’s Y/N. Is Tony there? And right now?” Who knows which business the rich man tends to in his free time. “He has a video conference in ten minutes, when you make it wick then I can fetch him for you.”

“Please.” She nods despite Pepper not being able to see it and sits down on the couch, fussing with her free hand on one of the pillows Steve brought in a thrift shop. She hates the thing and still suspects that Steve brought it to annoy her. But he seems to genuinely like it so she allowed the ugly piece of brown fabric to stay. “Are you okay? You sound upset.” She can hear Pepper walking through their house. “He’s back, Pepper.” Her voice is dry, hoarse. Empty. “Who?”

“Brock.”

“Oh my god. Alright. I make sure you two have time talking.” Y/N nods and turns around to make sure Steve’s still upstairs and won’t catch a word of what she’s going to discuss with Tony. She doesn’t have to wait long. She hears some muffled voices, some rustling, and then there’s Tony’s voice, playful and quirky as always. “Y/N! My favorite person in the whole world, after Pepper, of course. You’re saving me from one of the most boring calls I have to witness this week.” She can practically see the grin plastered on his face and if she wouldn’t feel so bad it would infect her just right now and she would laugh or snort, send a remark back and make a joke or something. But right now, it just makes her feel sick. “Tony.” Her throat feels dry. She has the feeling that a lump has embedded itself in her windpipe, catching the air she needs and forcing it back out. The letter, still lying on the dining table seems to bore itself in her head. Would it be a person, its eyes would send glares at her, boring her with deep red and evil eyes, a devilish grin on its lips, and a mocking look all over its face. “What’s wrong? Fighting with Steve?” Y/N takes a deep breath. Her eyes gliding back to the offending piece of paper on the table in the kitchen. She can see the writing in her inner eye, doesn’t even need to look at it. It’s as if it burned the words in her brain. “Y/N? Pepper’s looking worried so I assume she knows what’s up. Do we need to come over?” 

“No! No. I…” She sighs, frustrated with herself for letting a letter, or several over the past week, get herself lose control “I got a letter.”

“Okay.”

“From… him.” There’s silence for a second before she hears a sound that could be a groan, a scoff, or something entirely different. “Brock Rumlow again. I didn’t expect him to come back so soon.” Knowing that several expressions run over his face right now she sighs and falls back on the couch. Anger is probably the most dominant emotion for tony right now and she knows, if Steve knew, he would be furious right now. Not at her for hiding it but for Brock to even trying to get back in contact with her. “What do I do now?” Y/N’s voice is filled with fear and she knows it trembles. “What if he comes?” 

“Does he know where you work?”

“I-I don’t know. But Tony! He knows where I live. I move d four times and he still found me. How difficult can it be to find out where I work?” Y/N shakes her head. “He never went to this house with me. If he didn’t follow me then he shouldn’t know about it and now that he does…. I don’t feel safe, Tony.”

“Does Steve know?”

“No! Dear god, Tony. I can’t tell him. He’s finally getting on his feet, even found someone to flirt with. I-I can’t bring him up. Not now.”

“Okay.” Y/N can hear Tony pace around his office. He’s mumbling some things she can understand. Then she hears him talking silently to someone. “Happy. Take Jarvis and Pietro on Monday and secure the gate. No strangers are allowed to enter coming next week. No, that’s not a joke. Students have to show their Student ID, otherwise, they won’t enter… Who? When?” Y/N starts nibbling on her lower lip and startle a little as she hears the stairs behind her creak. She turns around to see Steve enter the living room with a smile, turning to show off his beige khakis and his light blue button-up. He raises an eyebrow as if to ask if he looks better and Y/N just nods. The Steve mouths ‘Still Tony?’ And she nods again while Steve rolls his eyes and walks into the kitchen. “Y/N? You still there?” She twitches a little and stumbles over her own words. “Y-yeah. I-I’m here.”

“Do you know a brunette man with long hair and silver hand?”

“I-I don’t think so. Why?”

“There was someone in school on Thursday, asking for Steve.” A silent ‘o’ forms on her mouth, thinking of the only person that might have been asking for the blonde. Wait, he has a metal arm? “That- That could have been James Barnes. Pepper might remember him. He’s from the military. He has something from Steve’s dad.” She hears Tony asking pepper and her answering, though, she can’t really make out any words. “He was okay, Happy. Though, don’t let anyone in without informing me. I send you a picture of a man who’s not even allowed to be near the school. Make sure we don’t even catch a glimpse of him.” Steve comes back in, toast in his mouth and crackers in hand, flopping down beside her and holding the crackers up. Y/N shakes her head at the offer, watching him shrug. There’s an itch in her body to lean over, lie her head on his shoulder and cry for the rest of the day, bathing in her misery. “Okay, Y/N, Happy’s taking care of the school. Do you need something else?”

“No, I-I guess not.” There’s silence in the line for a moment before she hears Tony sigh. “Y/N. You know I would never let him near you. Not at school anyway. I will do everything I can. I can’t protect you at home but you know you can call me if somethings up, no matter how late. And you have Steve there, too. Think about telling him. It might be good to have him know. Rumlow is an asshole and Steve hates him more than I do. You should tell him because we both know he would want to know.” Y/N shakes her head with a deep breath. “Alright.” The air leaves her body and she finally leans over to Steve, resting her head on his shoulder with closed eyes. She can feel the man shift a little, draping his arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss to her temple before going back to his toast and crackers. “Pep’s getting pepper spray for you. Though, I could give her to you. She’s better than any spray available.” Y/N snorts a small smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think I’m good for the moment. Thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, but remember to tell me if somethings up. And better don’t go home alone. Let Steve drive you or something.”

“I will.” She smiles again and then says goodbye, putting the phone down in her lap and listening to Steve’s munching. She’s not sure if she will be alright, though. She really doesn’t want to see Brock again and certainly not at her workplace. She doesn’t really pay attention to what’s going on and just as Steve moves does she look over to him. He has turned a little to face her. His face is filled with concern, maybe shock, too, and his hands are hovering over her, crackers abandoned on the coffee table. “Everything good? You’re crying.” Startled she lifts her hand to her cheek, making a surprised noise. Is brock already making her that out of her mind that she doesn’t even notice when she’s crying?

“Y-yeah, don’t know why.” She laughs a little, feeling like crying even more now. “Let’s get this dinner ready, yeah?” She whips her eyes once more and lifts herself from the couch, matching into the kitchen, successfully ending the conversation and escaping any questions that would come for the moment.

Previous Part / Next Part

[etoileholland]

La vie en rose

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: while at a museum in Paris, you meet Tom, a boy so beautiful that the masterpieces pale in comparison to him.

A/N: This was originally a series that I made for @scarletxwidow��� back in 2017 (long before I ever had this blog), but I recently found it and decided to give it a new life. I have another part to this story written out, would anyone care to read the rest? Let me know! And as always, please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

(The photo is not mine; all credit goes to its respective owners)

Wow, it’s even more beautiful up close. You thought, admiring the Monet painting that encompassed the entire wall. Her eyes traced the swift veridian brushstrokes, appreciating the tranquility of the water surfaces encapsulated onto the expansive canvas.

After university you had booked a plane to Paris to experience the art and the culture firsthand. One of your first stops was to the Musée de L’Orangerie, to see Monet’s “waterlillies” painting. You had worked different odd jobs and saved money to afford a plane ticket, but it seemed well worth it.

It was a particularly rainy Tuesday night and the museum was practically empty. There were a few people around, but the rain was so bad that it seemed like everyone had stayed home. The museum had a dreamlike feel to it, with the beautiful paintings adorning the walls, and the room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop; it was surreal to say the least.

Your ears perked up when you heard a tour guide explaining a painting to a couple at the other end of the room. Looking over at the elderly couple, you noticed that they walked hand in hand; something that had warmed your heart instantly. It was rare to see love that has stood the test of time, but then again, it made sense in a city that’s known for love. The tour guide quickly finished reciting the history of the painting, motioning to the couple to follow him to another section of the museum, leaving the hall silent again.

Sitting down at the bench that was in front of the waterlilies painting, you set your bag down next to you and pulled out a well loved book that you had purchased at a used bookstore back home. The book, titled ‘guide de visite’, was slightly outdated, but went into great depth of the paintings here at the museum. You had immediately fallen in with the book, having read it many a time, each time vowing to yourself that you would see these paintings in person. Flipping through the delicate pages of the book, you stopped when you found the descriptions for the waterlillies painting, becoming entranced with the printed text.

Face buried in the book, you hadn’t noticed the figure standing behind you until he had moved into your peripheral vision. Shifting your gaze slightly upwards, you saw that the person was looking over at you. You observed him curiously, noticing his curly brown hair that was lightly tousled, and his long black and white tweed overcoat. He seemed around your age, and had a certain allure about him. He smiled when your eyes met, but instead of smiling back you averted your gaze back to the painting.

“Excuse me love,” his soft voice lightly echoing through the empty room, “would you mind if I sat next to you?” He asked, standing there as he awaited your answer.

Nodding your head yes, you carefully picked up your bag and set it gently on your lap. He was close enough for you to smell his cologne, his sneaky side glances not going unnoticed by you. You could feel yourself blushing as you tried to keep your focus on the painting instead of the handsome boy sat right next to you, which proved to be quite difficult.

Nervously touching the watch on his wrist, he cleared his throat, before saying, “I was admiring the Monet, but it was taking away from your beauty.” His cheeks were pink as he smiled, as he was scanning your features to make sure that he didn’t weird you out with that comment.

Flustered, you brought the book up to your face so that he wouldn’t see you blush, and you uttered out a small “Oh, um thank you.”

“I’m Tom, by the way.” He said, smiling as he waited for you to say your name, which you did.

“Enchanté.” He said as he continued to admire your features. You didn’t know why this very good looking guy was paying attention to you, let alone admiring you, and the thought of that alone left you feeling flustered.

The two of you sat there for a while, taking in the painting, but him sitting so close to you made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You cleared your throat as you stuffed your book in your bag and stood up.

“Wait, hold on a second.” He pleaded, “I just need to know one thing.” He asked while you nodded, sitting back down next to him.“You’ve been looking at the painting for a while, is it your favorite?”

“Definitely. It’s just do beautiful, you know? The colours blending together beautifully, and the brushstrokes are just pleasing to the eyes.” You let out a small laugh, and all Tom did was smile.

“Do you know a lot about the other paintings here?” He asked, his voice soft, along with his gaze.

“Yes, actually. Years ago I purchased this,” you motioned to the book on your lap, “and it tells of a lot of the paintings here. Although, some of the pieces aren’t here anymore but it’s nice to have a little piece of history, I guess.” You smiled nervously, mentally telling yourself to not sound so nerdy. Tom smiled softly at you, enjoying how passionate you were about art.

“So you’ve probably memorised the whole book then if you read that on a long flight.” He responded in an effort to keep the conversation up.

“Yeah, maybe so.”

He smiled again, and his smile was so adorable that in turn, made you smile too. Maybe he was the real masterpiece here, you thought. The masterpieces in this room don’t compare to his beauty.

“Well then,” he paused, nervously looking down at hands, “maybe do you mind being my tour guide? My brother Sam brought me here but then ditched me to get coffee with some American girl, can you believe it? It was his idea to drag me here but then left me the first chance he got. Typical.” He let out a small laugh, and you mentally thanked whoever Sam was, because if he didn’t leave Tom, then you probably wouldn’t be talking to him right now.

“So I’ve been wandering around, admiring the art, but it would be nice to be with someone who really understands art.” He hinted, his eyes twinkling under the museum lighting. You didn’t realise that he was closer to you than before, but you didn’t mind.

“Well you could have gone with the tour guide, I’m sure they know more than I do.”

“True, but the guide isn’t nearly as beautiful as you, darling.” He responded, the ‘darling’ rolling off his tongue like caramel. Thank god you were sitting, because if you were standing you would have melted into the floor.

“Well, alright then, follow me.” You said, gathering your belongings, while Tom held out his hand for you to grab so you could get up. His hands were soft yet firm, and as you stood up you let go of his hand immediately. He frowned when you let go of his hand too quickly for his liking, so he stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed right behind you, as you began your tour.

You two made your way around the museum, admiring the Picasso’s and the Matisse’s. You had your book open as you showed him the pages, reading the description from the book to him as you two admired the paintings. You often caught him staring at you instead of the art, and you playfully pushed him. “Oi mate, pay more attention to the artwork.” You exclaimed as you mimicked his accent.

He laughed, throwing his hands up like he was surrendering. “I can’t help but stare at how beautiful you are, and how adorable your accent is. The artists would understand that I’m basking in the beauty of the real artwork here.” You two blushed as you uttered out a small “thank you,” and continued the tour.

At that moment, one of the museum workers came up to you and Tom and spoke. “Excuse-moi mademoiselle et monsieur, le musée ferme ses portes dans quinze minutes. Merci beaucoup.” He left as swiftly as he came, leaving you both as Tom stood there puzzled.

“What did he say?” Tom asked as he looked over at you, and you replied, “The museum is closing its doors in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Tom said as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down so that you wouldn’t see his visible frown.

“Mmhmm.” You added, clearing your throat.

You were sad in knowing that your nice afternoon with Tom was coming to an end. You were enjoying his company, and it seemed that he was enjoying yours as well. The workers were ushering you two closer to the entrance, turning off the lights in the back part of the museum to signify that it was closing.

“Darling, thank you so much for the lovely day, and for being such a good tour guide. I should probably call Sam to make sure he’s alright, and to see if he needs saving or not.” He laughed, although there was a hint of sadness laced in his voice.

“Thank you as well, I had a really nice day. And thank you for letting me ramble on about the art pieces.” You laughed, and Tom just looked at you and smiled.

“Of course, I could listen to you talk about art all day.” He said, and you felt that you were blushing again. You played with your hands nervously as you two walked towards the front entrance of the museum.

You made your way outside, noticing that it was still pouring, so you and Tom stood underneath the awning so that you wouldn’t get drenched. You were about to speak when someone interrupted you.

“Do you need a taxi ride home, mademoiselle?” The doorman asked you.

“Yes please.” You responded. He nodded and went to the curb to hail you a taxi.

You were hoping that he would have a hard time hailing a taxi so that you and Tom could speak some more.

“Do you need a ride back home?” You asked Tom as he nodded his head no.

“Not yet, Sam said he was going to a café right next to the museum, and I think it may be that one right there.” He pointed at a quaint café right down the street. “I should call him and make sure.” He said glumly, realistically knowing that this may be your last encounter together.

Tom contemplated asking for your number, and as he worked up the courage to do so, the doorman ran back with an umbrella in hand. He opened it and motioned for you to get underneath it.

“The taxi is here for you, mademoiselle. Have a safe travel.”

“Okay, one second please.” You turned to Tom and placed a small kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for everything, hopefully we’ll see each other soon.” You said, as you handed him your museum book. “You can have this to remember me by.” You waved to him, being led away by the doorman, towards the taxi.

Tom admired the book, knowing that it was one of your favourite things. He looked at you one last time as you turned around and waved goodbye. He waved too and stood there, holding the book close to his chest. He sighed as he watched the taxi drive away, knowing that he would probably never see you again.

——

The next day was bright and sunny, and you decided to go shopping at the Champs-Élysées. It was a famous street lined with expensive stores, and although you couldn’t afford much, you wanted to walk around and at least pretend you could. You also needed a distraction from Tom, knowing that you may never see him again. Paris is a large city, and for all you know, he could’ve flown back home. And even if he was still here, the chances of running into him again are quite slim.

You took a taxi from your hotel and made your way to the eighth arrondissement, staring out the window to take the whole city in. To say it was breathtaking was an understatement; words couldn’t describe the beauty of Paris.

After a short taxi ride, you first went to Ladurée to try some of their famous macarons, as well as to have a cup of coffee. You walked into the small café and was immediately hit with the aromatic smells of macarons and desserts. You found a small table to sit at, and ordered an espresso and an assorted plate of macarons.

You pulled out the Great Gastby from your bag, and made yourself comfortable. You imagined how F. Scott Fitzgerald must have felt back in the 1920s in France, and wondered if he had sat where you are now, writing little pieces of stories on a napkin and enjoying the ambiance. From outside, you could hear that a street performer was playing “la vie en rose” on a violin, and in this exact moment, everything was perfect.

You basked in the sunshine and listened to the conversations around you. There was more English spoken here than at the museum, which made sense, since this was a tourist hotspot. One thing you didn’t notice, however, was a familiar voice of someone a few tables away.

“You know, I never thought I would say this, but I’m glad you ditched me at the museum.” Tom said, grinning.

“Hey I’m glad I ditched you too, the American girl was cute. Her company’s much better than yours anyway.” Sam laughed as Tom tossed a piece of macaron at him.

“I mean it though, it was seriously perfect yesterday. Well, almost, at least until the doorman whisked her away into a taxi. I didn’t even get to ask for her number.” He said, flipping through the pages of your book. He carried it around with him, in hopes that he would run into you again.

“I know, you gushed about her all day yesterday. I get it, she’s like your soulmate or whatever.” He scoffed as Tom flicked another piece of macaron at him.

“I’m serious though, she was perfect. The masterpieces paled to her beauty in comparison. I think even the Mona Lisa would be jealous of her.” He sighed, sinking dramatically down into his chair.

“God I wish I had asked for her number sooner, like right when I first met her.”

After hearing that, Sam shook his head. “No because then she would have thought you were a creep or something, and you know, she wouldn’t be entirely wrong.” He laughed as Tom shot him a glare. He slumped backwards into his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he placed his arms over his face.

“God you’re dramatic.” Sam stated, staring at Tom, who let out a small groan. People sitting around them were staring, and Sam poked Tom in the stomach, causing him to shoot back up in his chair.

“I hate you, you know that?” Tom retorted.

“No you don’t, you love me.” Sam grinned as Tom rolled his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll try to be more help to you. What did she look like?” Sam asked, looking over at Tom who now had a smile on his face.

Tom described in great detail your height, hair color and what you were wearing. He described how your hair was up in a ponytail, with little strands of hair framing your face, and how there were light flecks in your eyes. He gushed about the freckles on the bridge of your nose and how when you laughed, your eyes crinkled. He mentioned how you loved to read and that you loved art, and that you weren’t from France.

He rambled on as Sam looked around the café to see if anyone met his description. He saw you sitting in the corner, reading your book and eating your macarons, and Sam had a feeling that may be you. You matched the description, but he also noticed that your bookmark was the admittance ticket from the museum they went to yesterday.

“So basically the girl sitting over there?” Sam smirked, and Tom quickly turned his head to see who he was referring to. He snapped his head around so quickly that he practically gave himself whiplash.

“Yes exactly!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, and the the older ladies sitting by them glanced at him disapprovingly. He jumped up, nearly running into the server as he made his way to your table. You didn’t even notice Tom standing in front of you, until he slightly cleared his throat.

“Oh, hello.” You said shyly while grinning at him. You motioned for him to sit down across from you, and he didn’t hesitate to do so.

“Hey.” He answered as he tried to keep his composure. “Must be fate, huh darling?” He added, popping one of your macarons into his mouth.

——

Mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow​ @sunflowerhollands​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @musicalkeys​ @lmaotshollandd​ @taciturnspidey​ @graceluvsyouu​

[diverse-hearts-moved]

Excuse my Rambling that is about to occur. For those who’d rather ignore my thoughts etc I’ll place it all under a read more - I’ll make a later announcement about threads going forwards etc.

Excuse my rambling that is about to occur. For those who’d rather ignore my thoughts etc I’ll place it all under a read more - I’ll make a later announcement about threads going forwards etc.

I’ll start this off by admitting that I am aware that I am part of the problem that’s been growing over the last few months. I’m not saying for one second that anyone should be policing who writes with who or who should be more accepting of ocs etc - but basic respect towards other muns is something that seems to be on the decline.

I’ve watched as headcanons have been stolen, as muses are taken up for no other reason than they happen to be popular, as newcomers have found it difficult to get their foot in the door and how old members of the community have felt as though they’ve been drowned out. I’m mainly relating this to my experience with Bungou Stray Dogs and Fruit Baskets fandom - and again I am aware I haven’t been helping, which is why I wish to do a soft reset of my blogs.

There are so many of you out there who’ve felt like giving up on your blogs either because you can’t get your foot in the door, you’ve felt as though you’ve been pushed aside for someone else who writes the same muse - or you’ve had a headcanon stolen and simply are too afraid to put anything out there anymore. Muses are dear to our hearts - at least I feel that they should be.

Again, you can have many muses, write with only a few select people, run your blog as you wish to run it but - don’t make interaction posts if you have no intention of following through with them, don’t make other people feel as though your take on a muse is the one true take and everyone around you just doesn’t know their muses as well as you do and for the love of god - DON’T STEAL OTHER PEOPLES HEADCANONS

Writing the same muse as others is of course going to make some headcanons seem rather similar but it’s painfully obvious when someones put so much work into their muse and then some of that work is simply carried off by someone else as though it is all their original idea. This is a basic rule that we all should bloody be following and I honestly don’t understand as to why it’s needing to be pointed out??

To be a community, to have fun on this broken mess of a site, it’s important to feel comfortable around those who you’re following/writing with and yet there've been so many stories where this is far from the truth of the matter. Yes, no one can possibly write with everyone but my god you can still offer support from the sidelines, you know? Stop comparing muses - it can make the mun rather uncomfortable even if you see their portrayal as the ‘best’ one.

We’re all human - we’re all going to have our favourites. There will be times where one muse/thread just takes over and that’s perfectly fine. We need to be comfortable in knowing that late replies doesn’t mean that you aren't wanting to write with them, just that you may not have an idea on how to reply. We’re all writers here, we’re aware of how fickle the muse can be at times - but guilt tripping people should never be a thing. There’s a difference between - hey did tumblr fk up and you didn’t get this and - I’ve seen you’re writing with X but not me? I guess you hate me now? - put into very simple terms but this mentality is just adding to the issues... least that’s how I see it.

I could be wrong - I could just be too old for this place now and simply be longing for a time where communities were just that - creative little hubs for you to gush with others over your muses and the alternate universes and storylines that can be explored. These include darker topics and just because a Mun writes about torture, sexual assault, child abuse etc DOES NOT mean that they frigging support that action!

As long as these topics are handled with the care that they should be and not romantized in any way then no one should be made to feel bad for exploring darker issues. Fiction allows us to explore the darker side of humanity but it should be handled with caution, in a serious nature that does not pull away from the seriousness of such an event on anyones life...

Darker topics can be sensitive in nature and that’s what the tagging system is for. Ask people to tag things you may not wish to see - tag topics that you know will be sensitive but please stop comparing the Muse to the Mun. Darker topics/angst are great for character development, but they aren’t everyone's cup of tea - in which case avoid them. If a blog is too much for you, don’t follow them. Block them. Do what you have to in order to feel safe but please don’t send in anon hate or a vague call out post etc. All it does is feed into people’s anxieties, and then we’re all back to square one.

The last thing I want to mention is character discourse. We write who we write because either they mean a lot to us, we wish to explore their character or they simply demand to be written. You can like or loathe a character, that’s perfectly fine of course, but going off on tangents about how horrid X character is and why everyone should hate them and if you don’t then you don’t understand their character - that bullshit needs to stop. I used to get death threats in the Mystic Messenger Fandom for writing Rika... thankfully that’s a thing of the past but I still get so fking nervous when people write huge essays on why she’s the most horrid person ever to have been written into existence.

Fiction is great because it allows us to explore all sides of humanity, the good, the bad and the ugly - and this freedom should be encouraged. People should be encouraged to explore their muses, not shut down by someone saying how ‘wrong’ they are and how they don’t know jack shit about their character or how they are making the character too likeable. Villains are humans too. Villians will have their soft moments... I’m slightly running on empty now but I really do hope that this made sense.

Short Version - We should all feel safe and welcomed on the dash so please stop doing bullshit to ruin that spirit of creativity.

[innenofutari]

On Goro Akechi’s morals and forgiveness (character analysis, but also just a very rambly post)

Akechi is… a very interesting character, I have no doubt about this. Also my favorite of course, if you hadn’t figured that out yet by this giant text you’re about to read (sorry). I have a lot I want to talk about in regards to him since he is so intriguing and we actually don’t have that much info about how his thought process works so it leaves a lot of room for speculation.

In any case, in this meta in specific I’m going to be talking about Akechi’s...morality(?), forgiveness and his relationship with regret. I’m not sure if that’s the best word to define this but I’ll roll with it for now. I’ll try to be fair and talk about things as I personally see them, it’s totally fine if you don’t share my views! Now, onto the actual meta.

Starting off, as people are obviously aware, Akechi is a morally gray character, a darker shade of, but he’s a sympathetic and tragic character nonetheless. That much is undeniable, he was written to be sympathetic, even if I’d argue Atlus did a pretty poor job of it in Vanilla (he was still my favorite ever since then though lol) but he’s reached his true potential in Royal, which makes me immensely happy to see. I get so unbelievably happy whenever I see people saying Royal changed their perception of him and started to like him more! But even then, there are a lot of people who just can’t forgive him for what he did, and that’s only natural. I personally think that, if you don’t try to sympathize with Akechi and truly, truly try to understand his mind and history, you’re doing him a huge disservice. But, forgiveness is something that everyone is free to think and decide if he deserves it or not. In Akechi’s case, I feel like forgiveness is something much more personal to the player, and this shows between the Phantom Thieves too.

There is a visual novel I hold very close to my heart called Umineko no Naku Koro Ni (which I’ll be quoting relentlessly throughout this entire post) that illustrates what I think better than I could put into words, so I’ll be quoting that scene with a few tweaks for better context:

“You said you understood the culprit’s motive.”

“...Yes.”

“Is that motive… a satisfying explanation for why they’d [commit murder]?!”

“Who knows. That’s for you to decide. Even if I say it’s satisfying, that doesn’t mean it will satisfy you. …You have to decide that for yourself.”

I really like this. It reminds me a lot of Akechi’s situation. I firmly believe that this has no “objective”, “most correct” answer to, just your personal feelings, which are the most important. I, as a player, do forgive Akechi, I want him to have a happy ending, another chance at life, manage to live happily with Akira and have some fun for once. That’s what “forgiveness” means to me in this situation, but while some people may empathize with Akechi, they still can’t forgive him. They think he should stay forever in jail or die since he cannot be redeemed in any way in their eyes. Where do I wanna go with this endless blabbering you ask, and I respond, I just want to try and see Akechi’s actions through two different lenses.

Well, I personally don’t like downplaying the crimes he committed and dumbing it down to “he was being manipulated” because, even if this is not false, it is not entirely correct either. Akechi is so fun to speculate about because he’s a character who is always clashing against himself in various ways as if he was in a constant state of internal turmoil, and this is not very different.

Akechi himself made the choice to go to Shido. It is extremely unlikely that he didn’t know he was going to be using his new powers for murder. He may have been very young, but despite the fact that he was a child forced to mature prematurely, he knew exactly which type of person Shido was. When he walked into that deal he was aware of the consequences and had fully made peace with the fact that he’d be taking another person’s life. Now, I’m not saying that Shido never manipulated him because he did, but not with that particular choice. 

This alone tells plenty about Akechi’s morals. I believe that Akechi indeed has some level of empathy for other people, but I sincerely doubt he feels especially bad about the Okumura-like people he had to kill. He might feel bad for the family of the victims or just feel nauseated with himself, however, he doesn’t regret a thing. As if he had grown numb to it. ...Until a certain point, that is, but I’ll talk about that later.

I would also like to elaborate further on Akechi’s continuous conflict with himself, and this particular piece of Maruki’s confidant immediately reminded me of this:

He’s talking about Akira here, but isn’t it interesting to note that Akechi’s internalized and externalized realities are, in contrast to Akira’s, the farthest they could possibly be from each other? His sense of justice, childlike desire to be loved and seen as a hero, in contrast to the cold-blooded murderer he had become? It’s like there are two people fighting it out inside of Akechi’s brain (lol) which must cause him a lot of distress. I don’t believe that Robin Hood is a ruse or that his Detective Prince façade is entirely fake. The way I see it, they are his ideal, which he strayed so far away from he lost grasp of who he himself is.

In my opinion, Akechi has never cared about fame the slightest bit, he used all of that as an opportunity to act out the person he wished he was, just and virtuous, while still being the feral murderer and bloodstained person he is today. These are two integral parts of him that he has never known how to reconcile. It’s interesting to note that in the third semester he was the one who since the beginning advocated firmly to return to the harsh reality but he had spent the entire game living in the comforting “detective prince” dream he made for himself until the engine room scene happened. 

With the third semester context, the engine room becomes so interesting because that scene is akin to Sumire finding out she’s not Kasumi. It’s a cold bucket of water thrown straight to Akechi’s face and telling him to wake up from this lie he made to comfort himself and face reality: he is no hero. Despite the fact that he is, too, a victim, he is simultaneously a murderer who perpetuated with the cycle of his father’s aggressions and he cannot escape that fact. Worse, he was being manipulated all along and his revenge plan and arguably his only reason to live AND justification for his actions was completely crushed.

Once again, this Umineko scene illustrates what I think Akechi’s situation up until that point was like:

Akechi rationalized every awful, inexcusable thing he did as, “It’s for my revenge’s sake” and ran with it. He was incredibly blinded by his hate and ignored the weight of the consequences of his actions up until that point where everything came crashing down right in front of his eyes. There is no excuse and no justification for that.

However, Akechi was also abused himself. There is no excuse for what he did, but is getting back at the person who took everything from him so reprehensible a thought? Is wanting justice against someone who essentially ruined your life not understandable? Many people like to say “cool motive still murder” or things of the like, but I’m asking you again to put yourself in his shoes.

Yet AGAIN with a Umineko screencap:

I played this the other day and one of the first things I thought of was Akechi. A lot of people draw parallels between Akechi and Adachi, but that’s just so damn wrong and make me lose my hair so much and become completely bald because that couldn’t be farther from the truth and I’m gently asking you to reconsider. In the pic above, Adachi would fit the “homicidal maniac” mentioned to a T, and while Akechi is by absolutely no means free of guilt and much less a stellar person, his crimes were moved completely by his heart. 

For the people who use his choice to become Shido’s hitman to say Akechi does not deserve any kind of forgiveness and that he’s a murderous maniac, I ask you to at least think of what state of mind he was at that moment. Think very hard about it, imagine how completely bleak life must have looked like then, to the point that he risked everything on murder.

This is nothing more than my speculation, but I believe Akechi’s thought process at that moment was something along the lines of, “I have nothing to lose since my (current) life is completely meaningless". It was as if he had reached such a numb state he chose to forgo all his morals and humanity in pursuit of at least one thing that would give his life meaning, that being his hate for Shido, which I also think was the only emotion he ever truly understood well ever since his mom passed.

Since Akechi is all about conflicting emotions though, I would also like to remind you how vulnerable Akechi really is to any kind of affection. His “childlikeness” that Robin Hood represents was, by all accounts, still there. Akechi has a desperate need to be loved while simultaneously putting up walls and wearing masks, making it extremely difficult to have any kind of meaningful relationship. This is something that Shido thoroughly takes advantage of, too.

That’s also why one of his lines to Akira hit so much harder for me, following this reasoning. “If only we had met a few years earlier,” expresses many emotions at once. If Akechi had known something other than misery and hatred during that period of his life he would not have latched so thoroughly to that revenge plan. Akechi simply had nothing to lose, since he had nothing at all.

I mentioned earlier that Akechi doesn’t regret a thing, which I still think it’s true. Before he had met Akira, he truly did not regret a thing, but meeting Akira caused him a lot of strife because not only Akira is a person whose whole existence flaunts everything Akechi could have had if he hadn’t fallen into fate’s trap, but Akechi also experiences happiness through his connection with Akira. Hanging out and talking to him truly makes him happy, and it’s something more genuine than he’s ever known. Yet, it’s too late, because his choices were already set in stone and he had already pulled the trigger with no way to take any of the bullets back.

That’s why Akechi is so confusing, so controversial and sometimes uncomfortable to think about. There is no clear line between good or bad, he just is something in the middle. Akechi is both a person who ruined a lot of people’s lives with no regard whatsoever to the consequences but also a victim rebelling and retaliating against the person who took everything from him and made his life a living hell. That’s why it’s so hard for not only some players to form opinions about him but also downright uncomfortable for the Phantom Thieves to think about. There is no objectively best answer for what he deserves. It just doesn’t exist. Should he spend the rest of his life in jail, or dead, because his crimes were inexcusable? Or should he be given another chance at life to learn to be happy? It’s entirely subjective, and that’s why he’s so great to think or discuss about. 

Aaand that’s it, I’m grateful you read so far, hope I didn’t piss anyone off, also not gonna pretend this wasn’t very self indulgent because of the amount of times I quoted Umineko in it. Anyways, thank you!

SIDE NOTE: I didn’t write this recently, it had been sitting on my drafts for some months now and I found it again today and decided to just release it into the wild because why not? I think this was meant to be much longer than it is and to elaborate more eloquently on a lot of points I brought up (like the PT with Akechi) but alas, I lost the train of thought and so it Perished.

[moonlit-grove]

mmmmmmmm allright... 💕 and 💖 for Heilaen please.. ? maybe 💋 if you're inspired

OKAY SO I GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY, THIS IS F I V E PA G ES ON DOCS

HEART SCENE TWO

The mystery sylvari was staying with Firstborn Kahedins. You saw her, from across the Grove. You couldn’t help yourself, watching as she spoke with the Dusk Luminary. You couldn’t help yourself, staring and taking in her details. Something about her… She seemed familiar, though you couldn’t place it.

You couldn’t help watching. Staring. Kahedins noticed you, smiling and waving. She followed his gaze. You lit up like a bonfire. Quickly averting your gaze, you shuffled off to make yourself appear busy. Find something to do! Find something, anything! You noticed someone trying to carry some crates. You moved to help them. Keep busy.

When you looked back, she wasn’t there. Disappointment panged within. Instead, you decided to ascend to the bower. The sun tingles your leaves, a gentle breeze tousles your ferns. You sense something, from the Omphalos Chamber. From the Mother? She herself was feeling something, though it was hard to place.

Something positive. Something good. You tried to focus, to find… Warm. The feeling was warm. You couldn’t describe it, but it drew a smile over your lips. You wanted to hug someone.

You saw the elevator come down. Firstborn Caithe stepped out, striding towards you. Probably meaning to go past you, but you cleared your through to catch her attention.

“Firstborn,” you bowed your head in respect,

“May I ask what’s happening in the Omphalos Chamber?”

“How is Mother? I don’t recognize how she feels.”

>A

“The Chamber…?” she glanced back, you sensed something bordering on uneasiness from her. You couldn’t ask anything further. She left. She said something about needing to help Malomedies and quickly walked away. Huh...

The elevator lowered again. Firstborn Trahearne stepped off, smiling. He was speaking with someone… The mystery sylvari!

Actually, now that you saw them beside each other, they looked alike-! Your eyes widen. Your feet are moving before you’re thinking, carrying you closer. How does this sylvari look so much like Trahearne? Is that even possible?

“Firstborn-!” Your voice squeaks toward the end, both of them looking towards you. Trahearne’s eyes are widened. The female’s expression is level. There’s no trace of emotion.

“Yes, young one?” He tilts his head.

“I- How… I-I mean…”

Only now do you see her smile. She says nothing, putting a finger to her lips.

[ROUTE END]

>B

“Mother?” She smiles, “Mother is doing well. She’s… How do I explain it… An old friend that you haven’t seen in years has returned.”

You perk up. You know that feeling! You debate asking for more details, but she excuses herself. More eager now, your eyes looked towards the Chamber. You tried to crane your neck to see, but the positioning made it hard to catch anything but the flittering leaves and lovely murals. Perhaps later.

You try to remain near. You want to see. Was it the mystery sylvari?

Oh. It was.

You, standing in the shelter of the Wardens, saw her stepping off the elevator, speaking with Firstborn Trahearne. She seemed to be smiling. So was he. They must be close. Actually… Narrowing your eyes, you notice how similar they look. Huh…

Slowly, you approached them. You catch a few words,

“... Really must return more often. Mother and I miss you.”

“Not many ships travel from Orr, you know I’d love nothing more than to be at your side.”

“You still can’t ignore your Hunt… And neither can I, or I’d go with you.”

“Yours is much more important.”

They notice you. Trahearne seems to stumble over his words, she gently pats his shoulder.

“Hello, [Name]. How have you been?

HEART SCENE THREE

You’re not sure how long you spend talking with the firstborn. Trahearne seemed to enjoy it, especially when you asked him about Orr. He’d rambled for so long, it was almost endearing. But your eyes kept drawing to the other… To the one smiling, affection pulsing off her. But…

But it wasn’t romantic affection. You tried to place it… The affection a twin has for their sibling. Was she…?

“Um-” They both looked to you. “Are- are you two… twins?”

You felt dread from both of them. Overwelming dread. Trahearne quickly got up, moved to make sure no one heard you, while she grabbed your hand and covered your mouth. They fled with you, taking you to a quiet corner of the Grove.

No one would hear you here, yet they still spoke in hushed whispers.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Trahearne’s voice was sharper than you’d ever imagined him capable of. “No one can know. Heilaen has to be a secret.”

So that’s her name. Heilaen…

“Why?”

Nod. Just trust them.

>A

She glares. She gently pushes Trahearne back… And suddenly, you’re on your back. Her knee is on your chest, pressing down. The back of her axeblade is pressing to your neck. Holy...-!

“Because.” She hisses, so close you can feel the air from her mouth, “No one can know who I am. No one can ever know, and if you can’t keep that secret…”

"Heilaen!" Trahearne's voice cuts through your senses. Her blade stops, though she doesn't turn to him. "[Name], can you keep the promise? We need you to just promise."

"I- I" Her eyes narrow. Cold terror claws at you. Maybe you'll tell Mother. Maybe you'll tell your Luminary, a warden-! That she attacked you! She hisses something, you can't pick up what it was. But Trahearne sighs.

She presses her axe down. Your eyes widen. You try to stammer out that you can. You flick your eyes to Trahearne. He’s covered his ears and turned away.

You look back at her. The last thing you feel is pain before you're unconscious.

“Did you have to…?”

“They wouldn’t keep the secret.”

“*sigh* Alright… Let’s get them to a mender”

You wake with a note on your chest. It's Trahearne's writing. "I'm sorry. She doesn't trust easily. Please keep this secret."

>B

You nod. You can’t understand any of this, but you nod. They’re firstborn. They have their reasons. Maybe something to do with what you’d heard them discussing before. About her Wyld Hunt. It had to be… that had to be it.

You whispered, “Can… Can I at least ask why?”

They both shake their head.

“It is in the best interest of all sylvari,” she said without inflection, “If you know as little about me as possible.”

You frown. That won’t do. You want to know more. You want to know so much more! Her expression softens.

“Maybe one day, young one. So long as you promise to keep this secret.”

You nod again. You will.

GOOD END

It’s been years. Honestly, you almost forgot about Trahearne’s twin. You hummed, running a finger over spines of books. You pulled a few on Orr, carrying them up to the firstborn. He smiled and whispered a thanks, flicking through the pages. You sat beside him.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

“Death rites,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Well, more… Trying to learn what their rituals around death were. Or if they had anything that would allow me to tap into the past. I need… I believe if can help.”

You nodded, lifting one of the books to flip through it. You could help. There wasn’t much else you needed to do. One, two, three books…

You felt his gaze on you.

“Yes?”

“You’ve kept my sister a secret.” he whispered. “You… You’ve never even spoken about her. Even with me.”

“Is it okay if I do?”

“She…” he sighs, closing the book. He takes hold of your hands, “Heilaen has as daunting a wyld hunt as I. I must restore Orr, she must safeguard the Dream. She…She is trying. Walking the border of Nightmare has had its effects.”

You nod slowly. Such a destiny… Was that one that could even be fulfilled? Even if his was difficult, you were sure one day… But hers?

“I sense something form you,” he interrupts your thoughts. “You… You feel warm, thinking of her… Do you…” he smiles, wide, “You like my twin, don’t you?”

“I… yes. When I first saw her, I was curious, but… I didn’t know enough. I doubt we could have anything.”

“Ah… That is true… Sadly.”

“Maybe… I could try?”

[SECRET ROUTE UNLOCKED]

[mattzerella-sticks]

A Healing Touch/New Experiences

15x17 coda, Post-Finale, Dean/Cas, Adam, Serafina, Sam, Jack, 2/2 chapters, 4.7k

Chapter 1: A Healing Touch (ao3 link)

Maybe if Cas hadn't abandoned him, he wouldn't have agreed to Adam's offer. But with free will finally theirs, Cas made his choice, and Dean his. Now he has to live with the consequences - even if they are awkward. He won't die from it, certainly.

It's only a massage.

But what Dean doesn't know, is that it's more than a massage. It's healing.

           Dean’s grip tensed on the towel, pulling its fabric closer against his waist. Terrycloth rubbing his crotch like sandpaper, making him even more aware of his current state of undress than he already was.

           Damn Adam, for talking him into this. The placid cadence of the First Man wreaked havoc with Dean’s judgement. Lulled him into a false sense of security. Now that his armor’s been cast off, Dean realizes how terrible an idea this really is. Briefly, Dean considers turning tail and jumping back into his outfit. Pretend this never happened. Play dumb. But then Adam emerges, parting the beaded curtains and motioning him towards a table set up in the middle of the room. Dean trudges along, window of opportunity slammed on his fingers.

           “Relax Dean,” Adam croons, lighting one of the many candles that surrounds the room. Interspersed with crystals, totems, and an incense stick that suspiciously smells like a VW van at a concert. “This is going to be a transcendent experience.”

           “If you say so…” He sits, kicking his feet. Hunched over, spine protesting from the angle. Ignores twinging pain with practiced ease.

           Doesn’t matter how well he masks it in the other man’s presence; Adam arches a brow at Dean and orders him to lay down. “You’ll feel better that way.”

           He stills, clutching at the towel with both hands. Frozen with an unnamed emotion Dean swears isn’t fear. Staring with wide eyes at Adam while the other man waits. Finally, he breaks the silence, “Can’t you just… do my shoulders?”

           “I will,” Adam promises, drifting closer, “Along with your sides… your back… anywhere I believe you might need.” He brushes featherlight fingers across his chin, a scant distance from actually touching it. Lips stretched in a lazy smile. “If it’ll make you more comfortable, though, I’ll look away while you get settled.”

           Dean clears his throat, gaze darting away. “You will?”

           “While I don’t agree with your shame,” he says, pulling back, “I understand it. How it works. So, when you’re ready to start, let me know.” Adam spins on his heel, grabbing for tinctures and potions on a nearby counter. Mixes them. Feigns busyness while Dean readies himself.

           He slides off the table, glancing from Adam to the exit. Wonders if he can sprint fast enough, snatch his clothes, and jump into his Baby. Put Santa Fe in his rearview, even if it meant leaving Cas. Finding a new path home would serve him right, abandoning Dean immediately for Serafina. Former and current angel leaving for lunch, catching up after millennia apart. Dean stuck with Adam. Biding time, making awkward small talk; listening as he rambled on about differing memories patchworked together while he played hopscotch through his timeline. So bored and confused he didn’t realize what Adam offered until he locked the bathroom door behind Dean, instructions rattling around in his head. Towel in his arms instead of around his waist.

           “Dean,” Adam chimes in, laughing, “I’m almost done.”

           Thinking, not acting, wasted too much time. No other options left Dean unfastened his towel. Held it while he climbed onto the table, carefully lying down. Adjusting his junk so his weight wouldn’t crush it. Then, face pressed into the appropriate hole, Dean fixed the towel. End hanging off the edges, censored his freckled ass from view. “Okay,” he says, croaking the next few words out. “I’m all set.”

           “Perfect.”

           Dean nearly asks when Adam will start. As soon as the question forms in his throat, he swallows it. Adam’s wet, warm touch sliding over his back. Spreads a slick substance that makes his skin goosepimple when the air meets it. Elicits a sudden, breathy response from Dean. “Sorry,” Adam apologizes, continuing his ministrations, “probably should’ve warned you?”

           “Would’ve been nice…”

           “Well, we can’t go back, now can we?” He kneads Dean’s shoulders, loosening a tight muscle with his thumb. “Let me do all the work…” Adam speaks aloud, calling on a nearby smart device. Tells it to play a certain playlist, whining strums pouring from his speakers. Dean rolls his eyes. The added hippie music only pours salt in the wound. “You’ve got a lot of knots, Dean.”

           “I’m not surprised,” Dean says, “the stuff I do? My body’s been through the wringer.”

           “You should take better care of your body, Dean. We only get the one.”

           “Yeah, we do…” Dean sighs, shifting. Too aware of Adam’s touch. Counting the differences between his expectations and the reality. They’re softer than what he expected a man’s hands should feel like. And gentler. These motions were more tender than Dean was used to, especially from a stranger. Part of him wants this over with, while a stronger, quieter part begs for more. He shifts, squirming. “Hey, what’s this you’re rubbing me with?”

           “Oh, the oil?” Adam laughs, pinching his sides, “I had it specially delivered from some small town I last visited years ago, in Morocco. When it was all the rage, kids fleeing for the East in search of enlightenment. This herbalist was teaching in the streets…”

           Dean tunes Adam out like he did the music, drowning his voice in the waves of his mind. Lets it sink deep below while Dean splashes around shallower waters. Like how this trip was planned.

           After Chuck, after the Empty – after their last cosmic showdown, the Winchesters faced a new challenge. An ordinary day. It’s been years since Dean could wake without worrying he forgot something. Walk and not look over his shoulder, at where he imagined someone with vengeance in their eyes and death in his future. Greet his family and not doubt that he will see them later.

           It’s everything Dean wanted. Except he couldn’t handle it.

           Sitting at the breakfast table, his family discussing pointless, trivial affairs, Dean broke. Maybe because of Sam’s bright smile while talking about a road trip he planned with Eileen, or Jack’s list of shows he wanted to watch. Maybe it was when he caught Cas’s gaze, his foot nudging at Dean’s, with a well of emotions Dean hadn’t deserved. Similar to that horrid night, although less sadness darkening his expression. Less blood staining his hands. Dean flashed between those two images and stood, hitting his knee on the table. Left with a meager and suspicious excuse.

           Somehow, an endless cycle of near-death experiences made things simpler. Being trapped in a never-ending story meant exactly that. They would live forever. Exist in the unknown, remain unchanged.

           Now that freedom is truly his, what will he do? How will he end? Will he become someone he doesn’t like? Will people he thought would stay forever slip out of his grasp? Does he go first and leave so many people behind?

           He couldn’t sleep those next few nights. Cas caught on after his third bout with insomnia, bags heavy under his eyes. Looked across the canyon from his side of the bed, arms curled tight around himself. Chained there. “What’s wrong, Dean?” His fingers twitched in aborted need. Another easy piece that proved more difficult to fit into place. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

           Dean stared at Cas. Saw the streaks of grey that tickled his hairline, and little crusts around his eyes from sleep. Reminders of how fast things can change, and what little they have left in the tank. If Cas were an angel, he thought, they’d have more time. Can stay alive through his grace, healing even the littlest signs of age. Like Serafina did with Adam.

           It slipped out like a leak, and then poured free. Inch given; mile taken. Frantically repeating how he met the First Man who loved an angel, and they lived normal lives in Santa Fe, and they seemed weird but in love, and –

           “Okay,” Cas said, “we’ll go visit them.”

           “Dean,” Adam whispers. Dean creaks an eye open from below the surface. “Where were you just now?”

           His heart lurches. “Can’t really go anywhere, now can I?”

           “Only in the physical sense,” he tells Dean, “your body can be here, but you can also be a million miles away.” Adam kneads harder on his back, forcing a grunt through Dean’s clenched teeth as he poked a sore muscle. “What’s more important that you’ve allowed your mind to wander far from the present?” He stops massaging, bending. Meets Dean’s squinted gaze. “Would you rather not be here?”

           “What did I ever do to give that impression?”

           Adam doesn’t flinch from Dean’s bite, smirking at him. Followed by an airy laugh that sounds nicer than it should. “Y’know, my hands can only do so much,” he continues, standing. Clawing at Dean with blunt nails, repetitively raking patterns like he were a rock garden. “Massages are a give and take. I can only leech away what you’re willing to part with. And there’s a mountain of stress buried here you’re still holding onto.”

           “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean growls. Closing his eyes hard enough white, hot stars burst from behind his lids. “Maybe you’re a shitty masseuse?”

           “Nah, I’ve been doing this since Alexander the Great was in toga diapers. Can’t be that.”

           “Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you’re any good.”

           “That’s true.” Adam pinches Dean’s lower back, at the dip right where his ass curves from beneath the towel. Electricity jolts along his nerves, up his spine, and makes Dean bite his lip. “Then let’s say my intuition is sounding the alarm you’re blocked.”

           Dean snorts, “Then give me some Pepto and we’ll call it a day.” Another pinch. This time his knee jerks, foot jumping into the air. “Can you quit it?”

           “When you start taking this seriously.”

           “Sorry,” he says, each syllable drenched in sarcasm. “I didn’t think your types took anything seriously.”

           Adam places his hand on Dean’s neck. Touch shocks him enough he lifts his head, finding the other’s stern expression. “If not for me,” he says, “then Castiel.”

           He still feels Adam on his neck, and the second hand hangs at his side, shiny. Yet there must be a third. Because how else can Dean explain the pain in his side as anything other than a stab wound. Knife stuck there, cruelly twisted, cutting his insides further. Dean subtly nods, going slack. Adam guides his head back to its resting spot. Resumes petting him with much more severity. Each stroke like a match scraping against a striking surface, sparking but never lighting.

           “Do you feel my hands, Dean?”

           “Am I supposed to feel anything else?” Dean grouses, “Because if this is you coming onto me…”

           Adam squeezes Dean’s ass over the towel, Dean yelping. “Why I’ll admit you’re a beauty, my heart is spoken for. As is yours.”

           Dean waits as the coiled heat in his stomach unravels, breathing raggedly all the while. “Yeah,” he says, “I can feel your hands.”

           “Good,” Adam says, “and how do my hands on your body feel?”

           “Um… good? I guess? Like any other massage.”

           “You’ve gotten other massages before?”

           “When I could, I guess.”

           “And your masseuses,” Adam asks, coating more of the oil along his shoulders, “were any of them men.”

           No. “Why does that matter?”

           “I’m just asking,” Adam says, “guessing, actually, if your hesitation during this process has something to do with my gender expression.” He rubs at his biceps, fondling them. “So I’ll ask again – have you ever been massaged by a man.”

           He’s fought with countless men. Punches and kicks and elbows at throats acceptable foreplay. Love bites that stung far too long, bled too much. Shook hands with many hunters while crossing America during his early years where he was figuring himself out. Their intimidating grip thrilling Dean more than they should while near his father. John’s idea of what makes a man still living in his mind, a shadow that won’t disappear no matter how many curtains he draws or lights he turns on. Persistent.

           Sometimes Cas’s hand lingered, back when their relationship was new. Finding its footing despite Chuck’s story. He blamed it on his angel’s inexperience with humanity. But the more he stayed on Earth, the longer they lasted. More significant. A game of chicken, each daring the other to drop first.

           That’s the most intimate he’s ever been with another man.

           It’s been too long since he and Cas touched like that. Circling, never committing. Losing before the game starts.

           “I…” Adam’s touch feels different, headier. Matchhead catching, flame bursting atop it. He sighs, “I’ve never been massaged by a man.”

           Adam hums, “You’ve never had the opportunity?”

           “I’m pretty sure I’ve had lots of opportunities,” Dean tells him, “I just… never took them.” He shrugs as best he can. Sighing when Adam brushes one of his love handles, scratching it. Warm delight making Dean’s toes curl. “It wasn’t something a guy like me was supposed to do.”

           “Supposed to,” Adam parrots, “someone else was making these decisions for you?”

           Bristling, Dean shifts as if to raise his head again. Adam shoves at Dean, keeping him there. Adds an ounce of pressure that should stoke his anger. However, Dean responds with no retaliation. Stills, and when Adam removes his hand, continues talking. “I made these decisions,” Dean tells Adam, “I… there were a lot of expectations, being me. People I couldn’t disappoint. If they knew I went to get… massages, by men… things might not have been the same.”

           “Even if it hurt denying this part of yourself?” he asks, “Suffocating it because other people had opinions on how you should live your life?”

           Dean scowls despite how dedicated Adam works at kneading the skin above his tailbone. “You wouldn’t understand, okay. Being the first person gives you leeway, make your own rules. I was born into a certain role – there was an image I had to fit. If I wanted to survive and I… and it got easy, over time. I wasn’t hurting anyone –“

           “You were hurting yourself.”

           “I’m used to it.”

           Adam reacts violently, nicking Dean’s hip hard enough he expects blood. But his thumb soothes the spot, caresses it far more lovingly than Dean thinks is appropriate. He doesn’t voice his concerns. Busy thinking about the sudden callouses he feels on Adam’s thumb.

           “That’s a dangerous point of view to have, Dean,” Adam warns, drawing him from the off-ramp. “How can you speak so carelessly about yourself like that?”

           “I… I – uh…” Dean had a response. A common one he trotted out whenever a question like this appeared. Now, he finds the stable empty. He has nothing. “I…”

           “You’ve been given a wonderful gift, Dean. The gift called life. Gone are the oppressive forces steering your judgement. Controlling how you grow.” Adam’s voice rises, passion seeping into his skin. Mixing with the oils, providing a euphoric numbness. “Now is when you should slash through those bindings and grow into the person you were always meant to be!”

           “What if I…”

           “Hmm?” Adam stops massaging him. The music ended at some point, leaving only silence. “What if you what?”

           Dean slowly rises from the face hole, Adam not fighting him this time. Leans on his elbows, staring at the floor. At the small droplet that splattered there. “What if I don’t like that person?” he mutters, “What if I look in the mirror one morning and I don’t… don’t recognize that it’s my reflection. What if I become someone so wholly different now that I… now that I can grow, and change, that I lose parts of myself. Lose my family, because they don’t like who I’ve become?”

           Adam’s hand rests on his shoulder, fingers curling over a spot that doesn’t belong to him. When other people touched it, his skin crawled. Itched like fire ants crawled and bit. It’s the opposite feeling, with Adam’s hand. As if Dean’s soul breached through the shadows and filled him with so much light, he could overpower the sun. But only one other person has ever made him feel like that…

           “If your family truly loves you, Dean,” Adam says, stepping into view. Guides Dean’s gaze from his feet towards his face using both hands. Smiling, “Then they love your most core, basic parts of yourself. And those, I know, will stick with you as you journey into a new era of self-exploration. Just as they will. You shouldn’t be afraid of change. It is the most powerful force in existence. Change cannot be stopped, cannot be controlled… how we choose to respond to it, however, is where humanity finds its freedom.” He lets go, drifting backwards into Serafina’s waiting arms.

           There’s still a hand on his shoulder.

           Dean turns. Instead of a thin, linen shirt, there’s a starched white button-down. Blue tie where he expected a scarf and chunky necklace. Dark hair with touches of gray, and blue eyes rimmed red with tears. “Cas…”

           “Dean…” he says, squeezing his shoulder, “I love you. I… I won’t ever leave you.”

           “How can you promise that, Cas?” he asks, “How do you know that? We’ve… what if Chuck was the only thing keeping us together? What do we do now that he’s gone?”

           “We live Dean… day by day.” Cas kneels, pressing a thumb against his chin. “You’re right, I can’t be certain about the future. None of us can, not anymore. But, before Chuck, all I saw was bleakness. Now that he’s gone… after every hardship we’ve been through, the clouds have parted. It finally looks bright. And we could have a thousand more days or one more day, but in this moment Dean I want to experience everything with you.” He kisses him, breathing that promise into his body. Words mingling with his heart and soul. “My first, and most important act of rebellion was loving you. In these few years we’ve known each other I’ve lived more than I ever have. I’ve grown, not because of Chuck or despite of Chuck… but on my own terms. And you’re still here, with me.”

           “Cas I…” Dean knocks their foreheads together, “You’re someone I never expected entering my life… and if you left, I don’t know if I can go back to living without you. Every time you were taken from me I… part of me died. A part that never came back, even though you did. When the Empty took you, I thought that was it. If I lost you one more time… I fought so hard for this – to live by my terms that I… I don’t want to lose it. Lose you.”

           “Then don’t act like you already have,” Cas tells him. “Let me in. Let Sam and Jack… we’re all figuring this out together. Shoulder your burdens with us and we will do the same to you. That way we can enjoy our time together. And when one of us goes, the other will always have the memories of what we’ve won to remind us how the fight – how life was worth it.”

           Dean nods, dropping another kiss against Cas’s lips. Rises with Cas, uncaring that the towel fell. He already felt more exposed from this simple massage. Modesty seemed a… a moot point. Cas slips between Dean’s legs, wrapping him in a hug. Dean returns it.

           Then he looks at their voyeurs, watching from the sidelines. “Was this what you had planned all along?”

           “Before you came here,” Adam says, “I had a vision.”

           “…Right.”

           “And in that vision,” Serafina adds, swaying with Adam. Fingers threaded through his curls, petting him, while his oil-covered hands stained her patchwork skirt. “He saw you two sticking around for a few more days.”

           Dean arches a brow, huffing, “We do?”

           “Oh yes,” she says, “you’ve only just begun to heal, the both of you. It’s a process – like growth – that never really ends.” Serafina’s gaze darts from him to Cas, and back again. “Plus, if you stay, we can introduce you to some new things. Offer some wisdom from our many lifetimes on Earth that may prove… beneficial.”

           Dean and Cas share a silent conversation. He grins from that, knowing he can tilt his head or flutter his lashes and be understood completely. “Okay,” Dean answers, “it’s not like there’s anything else we need to be doing.”

           “Perfect!” She claps, “Oh I’ll – I’ll go put some tea on, and Adam can show you to our meditation room. We can spend the rest of the evening just sharing, maybe even fall asleep under the stars. In all of America, Adam and I’ve found they don’t shine quite like they do here.”

           Dean leans his head on Cas’s shoulder, listening as Serafina rambles about possible plans. Adam interjecting with his own ideas every now and then. Watching them, a strange feeling flutters inside his chest.

           He isn’t sure what to expect from hanging out at their commune or drinking their Kool-Aid. But, for the first time since they’ve closed the book on Chuck’s story… he’s excited.

(chapter 2)

[sierraraeck]

Why Dads Suck

Spencer x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

(This is my gif so please give credit if used)

Summary: Partially inspired by 4x7 Memoriam. When Aundreya goes with Spencer to talk to his father, she snaps. Story six.

Category: Some angst, some fluff.

Warnings: Cussing. Talk of past abuse.

Word Count: 6.2k

“Listen to me, you worthless piece of shit.”

That was a sentence that I weighted very seriously. I cussed casually in conversation and way too much in my internal dialogue, sometimes I said it just to get people’s attention or stress the situation, but I rarely said it in a meaningful, hurtful, way. But in that situation, I was aiming to be way more than just hurtful.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Over the past 14 months, I allowed myself to care. I don’t know what got into me, but it happened. I actually started to care for the people that I worked with. I always faked that to their faces because I wasn’t a complete cold-hearted bitch, and I’m not saying that I never cared about them, I’m just saying that now I care-cared about them. Like, it was no longer ‘hey I’m glad you’re not dead’, but instead was like ‘hey I’m genuinely concerned for your mental and emotional well-being’.

And it terrified me.

When I first hit the streets, I was determined to keep a hold on my humanity. Soon that proved too difficult and my new mission was to look at everyone like a chess piece; some more useful than others but all disposable in the end if they could benefit the long-term survival of the king. That mission continued in prison and became my new everyday mindset, one that followed me into the FBI. So when I realized that that mindset, the entire foundation of my existence and survival for the past 11 years, was dissolving, and there was nothing I could do about it (I’d tried but it was a futile effort and I knew it), I was terrified. And I felt like I was falling apart.

In BAU profiler terms, that would be considered my stressor. What followed would be considered my trigger.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Spencer was going to visit his dad.

He and I had grown very close over the course of those 14 months, and I would’ve considered him the closest person to me (with the exception of my mom and sister) ever. He even overpowered Deen and Sydney in my mind. But I guess those two were more of a ‘loyalty-to-the-end-as-a-means-of-survival’ type thing, instead of just simply ‘friends’.

I told him the most out of anyone on the team, and overall just felt like he wouldn’t judge me, which was a complete 180 considering how we started. I just felt like he understood me in a way that I hadn’t experienced, like he understood the roots of who I was, not just who I was in relation to what I’d done.

We even had a couple agreements.

The first was that I was going to make him more ‘culturally-adequate’ while he was going to make me more ‘educationally-adequate’. That took form in a book swap. I would provide him with all of my favorite and popular books (seriously, who doesn’t know the Cullens), and he would provide me with all of the profiling, math, history, engineering, psychology, sociology, chemistry, and philosophy books he’d read, along with any other fascinating topics he’d found in paperback form. We would either swap on the jet, or he’d come over to my apartment to read. We’d tried doing it at his apartment once, but I didn’t bring enough books, so it was just easier for him to be near my library. It also occasionally took form in a tv/movie swap. I would force him to watch some of my favorite shows or movies from my childhood like ‘Supernatural’ and ‘The Hunger Games’ among others, and he forced me to watch ‘Doctor Who’ and ‘Star Trek’. This we always did at his place, as to not get bored of my place. It also worked out well because I wasn’t really allowed to go out much, and he just didn’t want to go out much.

The second was ‘jet talk’. Whenever Reid got going on one of his rants, and the information wasn’t dire to the situation or necessary for understanding, I would just interrupt him and say ‘jet talk’. It was my way of letting him know that he was rambling and needed to get to the point, but that he could tell me all of that extra information on the jet. I’d become his new info outlet that he got to share all of those mind-boggling stats with, without being judged or feeling like he was on a time crunch. I had to smile the other day when he started going down that path and he stopped himself saying, “... it was an ancient ritual started by the Mayans in 500 AD, I’ll skip over all the jet talk, but the main purpose was …” It left me feeling gooey for the rest of the day.

So yeah, we’d grown pretty close, and I would say that I was becoming very protective of him, especially when it came to personal threats he’d already overcome and shouldn’t have to deal with again.

Like his father.

Which was why I was completely against the idea when Spencer suggested it.

“I have to talk to him, I have to know what happened,” he pleaded.

“I understand that, but why does it have to be like this? Why does it have to be you?” I countered. I’d suggested that he stay with either myself, Rossi, or Morgan, while the other two went to talk to that asshat for him.

“I know this case better than any of you. I have to be there.” I looked over to Morgan and Rossi for help, but they were staying completely indifferent, not willing to challenge or support either side. Spencer’s eyes were begging me to agree with him.

I sighed. I hadn’t realized our volume had risen until I brought my voice back down, trying to return to a calming tone. “I know. I just really don’t like the idea of you having to be around him. That’s all.”

He nodded. “I know. I don’t like it either, but it’s the best shot we have.”

I looked back over at Morgan and Rossi, and they both gave me a knowing look. I nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go,” I said.

“Wait, all of us?” Derek paused, his attention on Reid. He hesitated.

“If you don’t want all of us there, we understand that,” Rossi offered.

“No, I want you there,” Spencer said, still a bit hesitant.

“Are you sure? Because if you don’t want any of us there,” he looked over at me, “or you don’t think it’d be a good idea to have one or more of us there, that’s fine.”

What the hell was he looking at me for? I was offended, “Rossi, is there something you’re not telling me that I should know about?”

“It’s just that you being there could be …” he trailed off. I wasn’t sure how to fill in that blank, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. What was I doing wrong this time?

“No,” Reid said more confidently. “I want you all there.”

“Okay, kid. Lead the way,” Derek said. My mouth was still open, reeling from the shock followed by the suspense.

Rossi and I shared the back seat of the car on our way over to William Reid’s office, leaving an awkward silence looming over the vehicle.

“Look, I’m sorry. I only meant that-”

“It’s okay, Rossi, seriously. I don’t think I want to know anyway,” I said, which was a lie. I did want to know, I just didn’t want to have that conversation in the back of a car on our way to meet Spencer’s dad, stressing him, and selfishly myself, out even more.

Reid had been confident about his decision to talk to his father all the way up until we entered the building. His whole demeanor changed and he seemed frozen in time.

“Can I help you?” the lady sitting behind the front desk offered.

“Yeah …” Reid said. We all looked at him expectantly, but it was like the words were caught in his throat, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen to continue.

“We’d like to speak with William Reid,” Rossi helped.

“Is he expecting you?”

“I don’t think so.” Rossi held out his badge.

“He’s in a meeting right now, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll tell him you’re here,” she said, turning back to her desk.

“You okay?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah,” Reid answered, his breathing labored. “No, um, yeah. I’m, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He took off, speed walking away from us.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Derek commented. Neither had I. He’d told me bits and pieces about his family life, but that was a topic we both decided to veer away from. In all other stressful or emotionally taxing situations, he was able to keep his composure. Do the job, be objective. He even kept it together when his mom had to get involved with a case of ours. The only time I’d seen him get even a little rattled was when a case had quite a bit in common with his childhood surrounding schizophrenia right after he got some troubling news about his mother’s health, but all the other ones having to do with absent fathers creating killers didn’t get to him. Granted, those were a dime a dozen.

This, however, was a whole new beast.

“... more of a personal matter,” Rossi was saying to a man near the front desk. I must have zoned out.

“It concerns your son,” Morgan said.

“M-my son? Did something happen,” the man said. So that ugly bastard is his father?

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Reid said, entering the lobby again. His stood more straight, trying to make himself look as tall as possible, and I could tell it was taking all of his effort to appear professional. I saw his back muscles start twitching.

They stared at each other for a few moments, sizing each other up, before Spencer said, “Hello, dad.”

William cleared his throat, “Follow me.” He led us back to his office, Rossi and Morgan sandwiching Reid between them, while I straggled behind, shutting his office door.

“You don’t look like me anymore. You used to, everybody said so,” William started. It was a lame excuse for a connecting point.

“They say some people look like their dogs, too,” Spencer quipped with an eyebrow raise. “It’s attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples also, they unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they’ve been around their whole life, so it kinda … kinda makes sense that I wouldn’t really look like you, I haven’t seen you in 20 years.” Whenever he got anxious, all of his sentences ran together in one long stream of consciousness.

“Are you here on business?” William changed the subject.

“Just wrapping up a case,” Rossi dryly answered.

“A five year old boy was abducted and murdered,” Morgan chimed in.

“Oh, yeah I read about that, Ethan Hayes, right? That’s terrible,” William responded.

“That case got me thinking about Riley Jenkins,” Reid said, and William turned away. “You remember Riley Jenkins?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve been having dreams about him for a really long time, but when we came back here for this case it jogged something and the dream changed. I saw his killer. It was you.”

“Interesting dream.”

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” Morgan questioned.

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago,” William responded.

“There are certain criteria we consider when looking at this type of suspect. You fit parts of that profile,” Rossi said. He was looking at William like he wanted to choke him out right there. I could empathize.

“Me?”

“We just want your cooperation,” Rossi continued.

“My coop-” William started. He looked around at our faces and realized that we were all dead serious. “You’re not actually saying you think I killed Riley Jenkins.”

Reid gave a slight shake of his head. “We didn’t say that.”

“Good, ‘cause that’s absurd,” William stated. That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t just stand there, staring at his face knowing what he did to Spencer and not say anything.

“Is it?” I asked. William looked over at me like he was acknowledging my presence for the first time. “You were able to do something as absurd as abandon your own son, who knows what else you’re capable of.”

Rossi gave me a warning look, but Spencer didn’t even falter, his burning gaze set on William.

“Excuse me?” William asked.

“You heard me,” I simply stated.

“You know, I don’t think I caught your name when I first let you all into my office,” he said, a slight threat resting on his undertone.

“Chambers.”

“And how do you know my son, Chambers,” William asked.

“Your son? You’re getting quite possessive considering you’ve only just now met him for the first time as an adult,” I said. I kept my voice a low growl, trying to keep my head on my shoulders.

“What can I say? I’m concerned about his selection of company.” I scoffed. I was starting to realize why Rossi didn’t think it was a good idea having me around. I quickly scanned myself and remembered that I wasn’t exactly dressed like ‘FBI’ today. I’d already worn all of my official-looking outfits and was left with a more casual one, which I figured was fine because we weren’t ‘officially’ on the job. I was wearing a simple, low cut, white t-shirt under a leather jacket, with black pants and combat boots. My hair was in a ponytail, so from where he was sitting, he could probably spot my four visible tattoos.

“You don’t have a say in my selection of company. You gave that up a long time ago,” Spencer jumped in.

“Well, whatever your friend Chambers is implying-”

“Agent. She’s Agent Chambers,” Reid said. I refrained from smirking.

“Regardless of what Agent Chambers is implying I did, I did not kill Riley Jenkins.”

“We’d just like permission to look through your computer, access your records,” Morgan said, trying to regain control and focus over the situation.

“Yeah and, what would you be looking for exactly?” William challenged. He turned and looked pointedly at Spencer. “You want access to my files? Get a warrant.”

Spencer stared him down, but turned to leave. We headed toward his office door when he decided to add one last thing. “I’m proud of you, you know that? You’ve done a lot of good, choosing to help people. I mean, other people with your talents might have sought out different opportunities, a private sector. My god, you could have made a fortune.” He sighed and the message seemed forced. He sounded condescending, disappointed even, that his son wasn’t making millions.

That’s when I snapped.

“No. You know what, actually, no,” I mumbled to myself, shaking my head and turning around to walk back towards William. I couldn’t even stop myself before I punched him square in the jaw. It caught him so much by surprise that he toppled out of his chair and onto the ground. I placed a foot on his throat, careful not to put too much pressure on it, and squatted down so that I could see the fear in his eyes. “You listen to me, you worthless piece of shit.” I knew that one of the three behind me was calling my name, probably to stop, but I was too hyped up on adrenaline to pay attention. I was committed now. I removed my foot and grabbed a wad of cloth at the base of his neck and yanked him up to standing.

“You’re proud of him? You don’t get to be proud of him. You did nothing to help him get to where he is now. The only thing you did was provide him with the feeling of abandonment and anger, which luckily he was strong enough to use as fuel to become the amazing man standing in front of you, instead of letting it rip him apart. He’s way more than your small mind could ever comprehend, and he is worth way more than the bullshit fortune you wish he was making.”

“He’s also worth more than spending time with a slut like you,” he spat at me. I switched my grip to wrap around his throat, and swiftly shoved him up against the wall.

“You’re right. I have been a shitty person for pretty much my entire life. The only redeeming quality I have, is that I know Doctor Spencer Reid, and for whatever reason, he has allowed me to continually be a part of his life. To be there for him. Which is more than I can say for you. A child, especially a son, needs a good male role model, otherwise they grow up with the feeling that they can’t trust anyone, especially men. They have problems keeping healthy relationships because they can’t trust their partner, or worse, they can’t trust themselves not to end up just like their mom or dad. You were mentally healthy enough to raise him, a luxury that some people don’t have, but instead you were too weak. You left him with a mentally handicapped parent that couldn’t take care of herself, let alone a child. You didn’t even bother checking in on them. What if she’d died? What if their house burnt down? What if something happened and he was left all alone? He would have ended up in foster care or on the streets, and could have easily turned out like one of the monster’s he now hunts.” My face was hot, and I quickly swiped at the dampness on my cheeks. Get it together. My voice lowered to a murmur as the next words rolled off my tongue. It felt like it was the first time I had fully comprehended them myself, “He could have easily turned out like me.”

I swallowed, coming up for air, but I wasn’t done yet. “Is that what you would have wanted? Would you have wanted him coming in here, not to respectfully ask you for your side of the story, not even to just arrest you like he definitely could have, but to come in here looking to kill you? Is that what you wanted! Did you even think about that?”

“No,” was all he could manage to get out. He was choking on his words, so I loosened my grip. But only a little.

“No to what? No you didn’t want that or no you didn’t think about that?”

“Both! I wouldn’t have wanted that for him. And I didn’t think about it that way,” he struggled.

“Exactly. But that’s what you should have been thinking about. You should have been thinking about your child, not yourself.” I released his neck with force, shoving him away from me and further into the wall. I stepped back, giving him room to slouch in on himself. “The least you could do is answer a few simple questions for him. You owe him at least that much.”

With that, I turned around, my brain not even fully capable of processing my co-worker’s reactions, and walked out the door. I kept walking at a feverish pace until I reached the bathroom. The moment I closed the door behind me, I broke down into a sobbing mess.

What is wrong with you? You need to get your shit together! This isn’t even about you, but as always, you had to go and make it about yourself. You are supposed to be there for Spencer, not the other way around. He’s the one having to face his absent father and relive his traumatic childhood, not you. Pull yourself together!

I forced myself to deep breathe.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In, out. In, out.

I walked over to the sink, careful to avoid the mirror, and splashed my face with water. Once I felt I was sufficiently washed clean of my meltdown, I looked up into my own eyes.

What is happening to you?

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts and refocus on the situation at hand. I grabbed a paper towel and blotted at my face. I took one more quick glance at the mirror, making sure I didn’t look like a complete wreck, and exited the bathroom.

This is about Spencer. Get over yourself. Be there for Spencer.

I walked back out into the main lobby to see that Derek and Rossi were waiting for me.

“Where’s Spencer?” I asked, trying to ignore their worried faces and the urge to just curl up and evaporate into thin air.

“He’s still in there talking to William. They asked us to wait out here,” Morgan answered.

I nodded. “Talking about Riley Jenkins?”

“I’d assume so. You were pretty … convincing,” Rossi commented. I nodded again, not knowing what to say. I stood there with my arms crossed in a self hug, digging into my sides harder than usual trying to control myself and my breathing. I looked down at my feet.

Please don’t ask, please don’t ask, please don’t … wait no. It doesn't matter if they ask because this isn’t about you. This is about Spencer and you all need to be clear headed and focused on him and what he needs.

About 20 minutes later, Spencer emerged looking as pissed as he was before, but now he also looked confused.

“What did he say?” I was quick to ask before the focus could be shifted. Not like I was expecting it to be.

“Not much, just that the three of us should talk about it together,” he answered, voice strained.

“The three of you? Who’s number three?” Morgan asked.

“My mother.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

So I was in an awkward spot. I just blew up the meeting between Spencer and his dad, but I also kind of helped get him talking? I couldn’t tell what he was thinking about it. He seemed irritated and up-tight but those were also feelings he had because of his father and the whole situation, so I didn’t know what to do regarding him going to talk to his mother.

Do I come with, to continue to support him? Do I hang back because I don’t want to cause any more problems? If I hang back and he actually does want me there, then I’m being unsupportive. If I go and he doesn’t want me there, then I’m being pushy.

I tried so hard to look for a hint as to what I should do and it never came. I was forced to breach the topic and ask, “Spencer, what would you like me to do?”

He stopped next to the car and faced me. “What do you mean?”

“I just don’t know … I don’t know if you want me to come with or ..?” I trailed off.

“Oh. Um,” he seemed caught off guard by my question. “My mother is a very difficult person to talk to, and this is a sensitive subject so …”

“You’d rather have me stay here?” I completed. There was no malice in my voice, just concern for him. He wasn’t responding, so I assured him, “Don’t worry if that’s the case. I understand.”

He nodded.

“Why don’t I stay here with Aundreya, which will help lessen the stress on your mother, and you can take Morgan with you to go talk to her?” Rossi offered. Oh no. I knew what that meant. Derek and Spencer nodded at his words, and got into the car together. Rossi gestured for me to join him as he started walking back toward the hotel that was only a few blocks from the office.

I quickly caught up to him and he put his arm out, side-eyeing me and giving me that signature Rossi smirk. For real? I sarcastically let out a sigh and rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help returning the small, closed-lip smile. I looped my arm in his, and we continued to walk. In an alternate universe, he was walking me down the aisle.

We walked in silence for a block before he finally came out with it. “So, would you care to inform me what that little episode was about?”

“I don’t like disrespectful people.”

“Neither do I. That doesn’t mean I’m going to hit every one of them in the face.”

“Well, you tend to have more manners then I do.”

“True. But I also didn’t feel personally connected to that situation.”

“What are you talking about, we are both protective of Reid.”

“We are, but we both know that’s not what I’m referencing,” he said. He stopped walking and turned to face me, taking my hands in his. “Talk to me, Aundreya.”

His eyes were soft but piercing, and his wise-guy aura was getting to my head.

I nodded, squeezed his hands, then dropped them so I could loop my arm back in his. We continued walking as I spoke. “Do you remember what I told you about my family situation about a year ago?”

“You mean when we went to dinner? Yes. You told me that your parents got divorced when you were six, you started living with your mother full time when you were nine, and haven’t had contact with your father since you were ten.” I was surprised that he cared enough to remember all of that.

“Yeah. During those three years that I was splitting time between my parents, my sister and I had to deal with my abusive father. It was mostly verbal abuse and mental and emotional manipulation. Honestly, I’ve dumped most of the memories from that time period,” I said. He glanced over at me, silently inviting me to continue, so I did. “Just the feeling I got every time he showed up to a game of mine when I didn’t want him there, or I ran into him for any other purpose, was the worst mix of feelings I’ve ever experienced. It was terror and discomfort and panic and hatred. I felt physically sick every time and it was like my brain stopped working. Even though I don’t really remember everything that happened to me, that he did to me, I just have this overwhelming feeling of disgust. I guess that Spencer’s dad demeaning him like that, and his situation being kind of similar to mine, just set me off.”

Rossi nodded and his features told me he was deep in thought. He was probably still trying to process everything I’d told him. “You felt the need to fight back.”

“Yes.”

“Can I make an assumption here?” He looked concerned. I just shrugged and nodded. “I think that while you were going through that, your big sister protected you, and you were her support system to fall back on, to keep her grounded. You’ve since become quite the fighter, and somewhere in there,” he gestured to my head, “you regret not fighting back harder when you had the chance. You regret not helping your sister out, and you now feel the need to help Spencer out and fight back like you think you should have with your own father.”

It was stunning to me that he could dissect my thoughts better than I could. Everything he said struck a nerve and made complete sense. I’d been trying to figure myself out for over ten years, and he’d figured me out in under ten seconds. It’s astonishing how that works.

“Damn Rossi. You’re so good at this stuff,” I said, and he offered a gentle laugh. “Seriously. You just described a thought process that I’ve had for ages that I didn’t even know I’ve had for ages until you just now told me about it.”

“Hey, it’s much much easier examining what’s going on with someone else than it is to have to self diagnose. There’s a reason they say that doctors are the worst patients,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Am I your patient now?” I asked, returning the eyebrow raise.

“Would you like to be?”

“If you’re going to enlighten me like that all the time, hell yeah.”

He smiled. “Alright then. That’ll cost you $17.99 up front and an additional $5.99 each month after.”

“Oh, well in that case, just kidding. It isn’t that important to me,” I laughed.

“Well, if you can convince Reid to drink half as much coffee, it’ll be included in the budget.” I laughed again. It felt good after a weird and taxing day.

“Well then I’m definitely screwed!” Oh right. Speaking of, “How do you think it’s going?”

“I’m not sure. I hope for the kid’s sake that it’s going well.”

“Me too.” We entered the hotel, and decided we’d wait in the lobby playing cards until they came back.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

They didn’t get back until 11 that night, during which time they’d talked to Diana, arrested William, released him, found out that Gary Michaels was dead but was the killer, arrested Lou Jenkins for the murder of Gary Michaels, and finally got the whole story out of Diana and William.

“And you didn’t call us?” I accused, grogginess in my voice. Rossi and I had since fallen asleep in the lobby chairs, but only for less than an hour. That was a lot to go through for just the two of them in the back half of the day.

“We had it covered,” Derek answered. I couldn’t help feeling guilty, like it was my fault they didn’t call because they thought I was too unstable.

“So what now?” I asked, trying to brush the feeling off.

“Nothing. We let the local police handle it and we head back tomorrow,” Derek replied. Rossi and I nodded.

“We should all get some sleep,” Rossi commented, surveying our faces.

He had a point, so we headed up to our respective rooms and I just about crashed the moment I entered mine. My stomach growled and I remembered that I’d skipped lunch and Rossi and I forgot to get dinner. Our nerves must have been too amplified to be overpowered by hunger. It didn’t matter now because Reid got his answers, triggering relief to course through my veins and I was much too tired to care about food. I was on the brink of sleep when I heard a gentle knock on the door.

I grudgingly got up and looked out the peep-hole. It was Spencer.

“Hey,” I said with a bit more energy, opening the door.

“Hey,” he said. He stood there in silence giving me an expectant look.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Come in.” The lack of sleep and sustenance was starting to show. I moved to the side so that he could slip by me. He sauntered toward the bed in the middle of the room and sat down. I followed suit. I waited patiently for him to speak, because I knew whatever caused him to come to my room at 11:30 after a stressful day was important, and he had to say it in his own time.

“Thank you.” His voice was a small whisper and I felt like I hadn’t heard him right. What does he possibly have to thank me for?

“For what?” I murmured.

“For staying with me through this. For trying to protect me and standing up for me. For respecting my space. And for letting me come into your room late at night to tell you this.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you,” I said. It had come out so casually that I almost missed it. Spencer looked up at me with utter shock, which zapped me right back into reality. Oh shit. Had that really just tumbled out of my mouth?

I panicked and tried to quickly cover it up. “Like I’m happy to be here for you and you are welcome to come bug me at any time, day or night. I’m probably not doing anything interesting and I’m probably not getting much sleep either.” Although I could really use some right now if it would help me shut the hell up and stop spouting stupid shit.

Spencer’s mouth was still hanging slightly ajar from the shock of my initial comment. When he realized that I was just going to sit there staring at him until he did something, he shut his mouth and looked away from me again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“You weren’t just talking to my dad in that office, were you?”

I sighed and met his warm brown eyes. I swear those things change color on the daily. Sometimes they’re a perfect hazel, sometimes they’re a light caramel brown, sometimes they’re a dark chocolatey brown, and sometimes, when the light hits right, they look as gold as the soul behind them.

“No,” I admitted, “I was talking to both of them.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Do you wanna hear about it?” I countered. He nodded shyly. “You know how I told you that my parents got divorced and I lived with both of my parents equally for three years and then my mom got full custody?”

“Yes.”

“Well, those three year were hell. I can’t remember everything that happened to me because I must’ve dumped most of it. I told Rossi that I didn’t remember anything at all, but that was a lie. The really big incidents, I remember. Like I remember him shoving me up against a brick wall giving me whiplash for the next two weeks. I remember him cussing out my mother in the rec center, him screaming at us in the car, especially after going to see the therapist, and leaving my sister on the side of the road because she pushed too many of his buttons. I remember him pushing me down on the bed and forcing my legs open so he could look at the rash between them, even though I begged him to just let my sister help me with it,” I choked. I hadn’t told anyone this. I hadn’t really talked about it with my mom and sister much when they were alive. “I remember having panic attacks and being constantly terrified that he was going to kill my mom or sister. And I just remember this intense feeling of complete hopelessness and dread whenever I was around him or his family. They were suffocating.”

He looked at me, eyes glistening, and he let a heavy teardrop fall. I slowly brought my hand to his face, asking silent permission, and when I got no resistance, placed it softly on his cheek. My fingers barely brushed his jaw as my thumb lightly wiped away the tear. I breathed, “Don’t cry. Don’t cry for me. It was a long time ago, and I am who I am today because of it.”

He put his own hand atop mine, engulfing it, subconsciously applying a bit more pressure which I was happy to comply with.

“It’s just … It’s just that no one should have to go through that. Even if it was a long time ago.” He closed his eyes, leaning into my hand.

“I know. Neither one of us deserved what we got, but we survived and came out the other side. That’s what matters now.” I placed my other hand on his cheek, and tilted his head slightly up towards mine. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No. I just want you to know that without you, I couldn’t have solved this or gotten the answers I needed. I appreciate your strength to face my father like that.”

“And I admire yours to do the same.” He leaned out of my touch, leaving me feeling cold and got up to leave. I didn’t even know what I was saying before I blurted, “Wait.”

He turned.

“Do you want to stay?” I was too tired to fight the words, too tired to even be surprised by them.

“I’d like that,” he responded. I smiled and he returned it. I didn’t want him to be alone with his thoughts and nightmares, and I selfishly didn’t want to be alone with mine either. He slipped off his shoes and I kicked off mine and he came to lay down next to me. Neither of us cared about the clothes we were still wearing and definitely wrinkling from the long day. I took big spoon, knowing he needed me more than I needed him at the moment, even if he wasn't ready to talk about what he’d just experienced over the last 24 hours yet.

I was just about to pass out, arms hooked on my own elbows around him when he whispered, “I never explained this to you, but I think deep down the reason I was so resistant to you at the beginning was because I knew you and I were only a choice or two away from living the other person’s life.”

“Spencer,” I murmured, “you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I want you to have one, though.”

“Thanks. I’m just glad that the one or two choices after that led to our paths crossing.”

“Yeah. Me too.” That was all he could get out before both of us slipped under, able to finally relax in each other’s arms, finding reprieve from the relentless struggles of the waking world.

[astroellipse]

rambling time :)

Hmmm I realize now why Urianger is actually leaving the party at this point. It’s to force Thancred to actually do something concerning Minfilia. He’s served primarily as her emotional support up until now, with Thancred... idk he gave her a headpat a couple of times. His optional dialogue there was “I will talk to her. When the times is right.” You dumbass the time has been right for an eternity.

Oh and now we get death baited again. I was genuinely afraid the first time that they really killed Thancred. He seemingly had enough death flags for it, unlike with Y’shtola whose apparent death came from nowhere. God... and the hiding his very soul stuff... I wonder if that’ll make a return later. Certainly is convenient, not to mention dramatic. But man this really was bait, he just like, turns up fine later. Kinda dumb ngl.

Wtf I’m tearing up about Minfilia prime again... god...

Oh... OHHHH I understand what’s going on in this vision now! G’raha is reading Count Edmont’s book, and this roegadyn man is Bigg’s descendant... Huh, that’s funny. Two of the stories from Heavensward got muddled. A hero rides in astride a white dragon to save a little girl... The WoL riding into Ishgard on Midgardsormr, and Vidofnir saving the little girl. Fun detail.

?? Did Emet-Selch just SMILE at the WoL? His eyes crinkled. Do his eyes crinkle anywhere else??? Nobody else even saw that I think it might’ve been genuine, even if it’s just to see that the WoL hasn’t fallen apart yet. Like, he smiles in other places. There’s the mocking smiles, and the one last genuine but sad one near the end, but I can’t recall seeing one like that.

Ah. I think this is it. He’s explaining the Sundering.

I love this line and the delivery...

His logic makes sense. It IS relative, in this case. It of course doesn’t excuse the killing of millions and whatnot... it’s simply that the Ascians can’t accept things as they are now. A world without Zodiark is wrong. I wonder if they’d ever accept things as they are now if they weren’t tempered.

It’s silly that the game first explains the true nature of Ascians nowadays in some optional dialogue... the unsundered Ancients can raise fragments to become Ascians themselves, presumably anyone... though only fragments of the Convocation of Fourteen can rise to their respective office, through use of those... memory stones, or whatever they were. I’ll get back to that eventually.

Oh. You can also ask about Emet-Selch’s true name here, and there’s foreshadowing that you may one day learn... mannnnnnnnnn why do they have to kill him though??? The Hades fight is cool, though heart breaking. They bring back every other character, even Asahi to an extent for godsakes... The trailer, iirc, had a voice over from him so... maybe... maybe if we get more into the WoL being Azem... I dunno. I want to hope.

Ohhghhg I regret eating right before this bit with Vauthry downing... meol... ugghyhhh the noises this is awful I can feel my stomach turning :( That whole business... it’s not surprising the story moves past it quickly. Still funny though that they never outright acknowledge that all that was literally cannibalism.

Ah. AH!!!! There’s the line!!!!

So... he recognizes Azem even now. Huh. And what follows... he thinks the WoL would have liked it, Amaurot or however you spell it. He’s being... nice. Oh. That is... a sly proposition. He’s suggesting that the WoL just let things happen, that if they survive they’ll become whole. Of course Emet-Selch would want that, to have his friend back...

And now we come to the silliest plot point in the expansion. Really? Just make a giant Talos? Just like that? Even with an entire nation’s people working on it organizing everything and putting together the materials and all should take an eternity.

Duuuude I hate Mt. Gulg. Also this stupid audio effect they have on Vauthry, the echo is too much it hurts to try and understand what he’s saying, even with the text.

Ohhhhhhh myyyyyyyyy gooooooooooood G’raha’s deception is so bad but... it still hurts....... and Urianger... this is the most intense he sounds in the entire game... that “Do not interfere!”. G’raha!!!! You idiot!!!!! Gggghg. OH MY GOD THAT’S HIS RING HAND! HE’S REACHING TOWARDS HIM WITH THE HAND THAT BEARS HAURCHEFANT’S RING.... UNINTENTIONAL BUT GOOD!!!!!!! And finally his hood..... god.... I’m gonna cry again I can nbarely type./.... his inspiratyion...... and HIM EMET-SELCH!!!!!!!! GGGGGGGGGHGFHGH NO. THIS SUCKS SO BAD@!!!!

Ohhhhhh this story is evil. That it should be able to make you feel bad for disappointing Emet-Selch....... I mean it’s true. You weren’t strong enough, and others pay the price.

Seeing all of this... I wonder if Endwalker will attempt to top this level of relevance the WoL has. Suddenly... they are the existential threat. I mean again I suppose they could if they let the WoL take on Hydaelyn’s power as Zenos suggests. I do still hope that happens.

Ah... and again his ring hand to touch Ardbert..... cute... Hey wait why isn’t the WoL allowed to have any real heart to hearts with any of the Scions. Let them be friends :(

... ... wh. Why have they said the same thing? Emet-Selch says to the WoL before they depart, mocking how the world would react to the WoL’s affliction, “There is no hope. We are finished. Mankind is finished.” And. G’raha says this to Urianger once he arrives originally, to convey people’s reaction to the final calamity that befell the Source. I... suppose... Emet-Selch was watching? But that doesn’t make sense, they discuss other information here he doesn’t know. It’s just to draw a parallel, then? Oh. I see. G’raha then expounds on it and makes it something hopeful.

Oh also. It would have made infinitely more sense for it to have been one of Cid’s descendants to assist G’raha in traveling back in time. I can only assume that SE knows their fans well enough to know there would have been a crowd upset at what that implies with Cid, with how much they play around with the rivalry between him and Nero. Very funny thing to notice.

I can’t get out of my head what must have been the WoL’s original plan to reach Emet-Selch... take an Amaro over open water, then just dive in and swim around until the find him.

Ohhggh... I love Urianger his apology is so cute... he’ll stay by the WoL’s side for as along as he is able, if they’re willing to forgive or at least set aside their displeasure... even if they’re a danger to those around them...

Ohh and Alisaie!!!! This is why ShB is so good they actually CARE about the WoL it’s so nice... Oh right, and Urianger actually acknowledges their poorly thought out plan and thinks it’s silly. I don’t remember this from the first time, that swimming that far would probably make them die from exhaustion anyhow.

I saved this as a draft when my internet was being stupid hoping closing firefox would help. It did not. Anyways i came back to close this up and also note. I have been playing GNB terribly wrong for a while now. You’re granted a bonus damage ogcd after every move of your cartridge combo, not just the last one. I’m so stupid I thought it was like, an option of which one to use, but no. GNB is confusing, the combos are like... barely combos you can interrupt them to do whatever and return to them later. I’m looking at the optimal opener and i can feel my brain melting how the hell do I remember this??? I mean I don’t have to yet, I’m not at 80, but jfc. Idk if I’m ever gonna be able to raid like, properly lining up skills during battles sounds too difficult for me. I have a pea brain when actually fighting things case in point that one raid where it makes you do simple addition and division. It made me think 6+4 was 12. It’s hard enough for me as is to not let too many ogcds drift, at least not too bad...

Anyways. going to keep playing but I can wrap this up.

[necromaniackat]

Dare

It started with a dare. That’s all it was. That’s all it was supposed to be. A dare. Not even a good one at that. Although, it wasn’t a bad one either.

It started one uneventful Saturday night, after dinner someone -Tony- convinced the team that playing games was how they’d spend their night off. His drug of choice was Monopoly, but everyone protested against that idea, saying he was too good at that game and by the end of it he’d have all the properties and money, leaving everyone broke and pissed with him. Plus, that game could go on for hours and nobody had the patience for that. Eliese, the mind master 2.0, suggested Mario Kart and that won by popular vote. Steve and Bucky sat the first few rounds out, learning how to use the controllers and understand how the game worked. Eliese made a snide comment about how their ages were showing, this earned a playful headlock from Steve and a spirited tap on the wrist from Bucky. Mario Kart turned into Jack Box after about two hours of watching Steve and Bucky drive off the edges of Rainbow Road a billion times. Then regular Jack Box turned into drunken Jack Box very rapidly. Steve left the room very quickly when a game of Tee K.O became overly sexual after Eliese’s shirt was presented reading ‘More anal, more power’ with the abstract drawing of something nobody could quite make out. The conversation then went ass over handlebars down the rabbit hole of sexual experiences. 

“I think ‘Liese has us all beat when it comes to the amount of experiences,” Tony announced from one end of the sectional sofa, tipping his drink back against his lips. Eliese cocked an eyebrow at his comment. A pale pink covered her already rosy cheeks as she was soon thrown into the deep end of the conversation after spending the majority of the time silently listening to the others ramble on about their good and terrible experiences.

“Why do you say that?” She piped up curiously from her spot on the ottoman beside the sectional sofa. Natasha scoffed, almost choking on her drink.

“Because we live here too. And we see the people trying to sneak out without being noticed the morning after,” She laughed into the opening of her beer bottle.

“People?” Bucky emphasised on the word with an arched eyebrow. This caused Natasha to giggle into her beer while the rest of the team looked at the hundred-year-old super soldier as though he was way behind the learning curve, and it was the most amusing thing to behold. Eliese’s face darkened in redness and she groaned to herself, knowing where this was headed.

“Boys. Girls. People who we can’t quite figure out their genders,” Tony listed the genders of the people who’ve left the newest Avenger’s bedroom for a fun time. The pale red colour on Eliese’s rosy cheeks deepened into an almost maroon colour. She bowed her head down between her shoulders, letting her thick dark hair hide her away from being seen. This earned an awe and a pat on the knee from the red-haired assassin. Bucky turned his attention to Eliese with a puzzled expression.

“So, you’re gay, doll?” He quizzed, almost sounding disappointed. Eliese snapped her head up at his inquiry and shook her head with a goofy smile. Never in her life did she think she’d ever hear the words gay and doll put together in a sentence. It was rather amusing in her mildly drunk mind.

“No,” She drew the word out slightly. “–Gay is liking the same gender as you.” Eliese corrected the super soldier, still holding her goofy grin as she did so. This did not clear things up for him in the slightest. He held the puzzled expression, if anything the creases between his furrowed brows deepened. Eliese figured out quickly she was going to have to spell this out for him. She turned her body to face him, he sat on the other side of Natasha at the end of the sectional while she sat on the ottoman on the opposite side of the feisty red head and clasped her hands together in her lap with a heavy sigh.

“Bucky,” She uttered his name in a monotonous way. “–I’m pansexual. This means I like having sexual interactions with people of all genders. Basically, if you’re game, I’m game. I don’t care what you identify as.” The redness of Eliese’s cheeks died into a pale pink colour once again. She’s usually okay with educating people about the different sexual orientations and gender identities, but for some reason having to explain it to Bucky made her feel exposed and vulnerable. It was easier to explain this stuff to Steve than it was to explain this to Bucky. Why was this so difficult to explain to him? She’s gotten the same responses from the whole team; she knew they were accepting and understanding. But for some reason, spilling the beans about her sexual escapades to Bucky, even in the least amount of detail, made her feel extremely exposed. Like she was just caught being naked in public.

“So, you date all sorts of genders, doll?” Another uncomfortable question from the ex Winter Soldier. Eliese was all for explaining these things to people who wanted to know, as long as it didn’t include her orientations. She was always afraid of judgement, coming from a very religious State where she was a Pastor’s daughter and attended church every Sunday as well as Sunday school. This was before she high tailed it out of there when she was eighteen and headed to New York to pursue a career after university of course. New York was a far better suit for her, all things considering.

“‘Liese doesn’t date!” Tony exclaimed in a bout of hysterical laughter. This earned an even more confused look from Bucky.

“But you…”

“–Hook up sites.” ‘Liese cut the question from Bucky short. “–I don’t usually date people. It’s not my thing.” Her face was now beet red, even her neck and ears were glowing like the embers of a campfire on a hot summer night.

“Hook up sites?” Bucky drew the words out with an arched eyebrow and a grim line drawing his lips.

“Websites or apps where you can meet people for meaningless sex, Buck.” Bruce answered hastily, sensing ‘Liese really didn’t like all these questions being asked about her and what goes on in her private life. She could only nod along with Bruce’s very clear explanation about what a hook up was.

“Oh,” Bucky breathed as though he hadn’t taken a breath of air in a long time.

There was a small bout of silence as the blue-eyed man processed the information he’d been given. He had a lot of questions, but he didn’t want this to turn into an educational night seeing as Tony would probably kill him for being a buzz kill. And boy, was Eliese glad he didn’t have anymore questions. She could feel her heart beginning to beat a bit faster than usual making her body heat up exponentially. Her head fell back down between her shoulders and she pulled the draw strings of her black hoodie to castle her reddened face behind the scrunched-up fabric. The sudden rush of heat radiating off of the young woman sitting next to her caused Natasha to sit upright and glance over at a red faced Eliese.

“‘Liese!” Natasha exclaimed with a mock Louisianan accent. ‘Liese jolted her head up in sudden excitement, throwing the hood of her sweater back.

“Truth or dare,” She added completely out of left field. This made everyone sitting in the living room swift with an antsy feeling. Eliese drew her eyebrows together at Natasha confusedly. She wasn’t sure if she heard the assassin correctly.

“Excuse me?”

“Truth or dare,” Nat repeated herself, knowing full well which one ‘Liese was going to pick. Eliese was a feisty master mind, and mind master, from bible thumping Louisiana who couldn’t pass up a good dare, even in her junior years. Unbeknownst to Eliese, this was a trap and the smirk that curled half of her face evilly said dare me.

“Dare,” She replied, leaning towards the assassin cockily. Natasha shared an equally evil smirk as she matched Eliese’s body language, leaning towards the twenty-four-year-old. Nat wiggled her finger to pull Eliese closer so she could whisper the dare. ‘Liese followed the untold instructions and leaned in real close.

“I dare you to show Terminator over there what your sexuality really is,” Nat whispered to Eliese in broken Cajun French. Eliese cocked an eyebrow curiously.

‘How so?’ Eliese planted the question in Nat’s mind, intrigued and giddy to see how and where this will go.

‘Show him everything you’ve ever done or wanted to do with someone.’ The words were cooed into Eliese’s mind in response. Eliese’s onyx coloured eyes found the super soldier, he was curious as to what was being said even though he could hear it, he had no idea what was being said. His icy gaze was trained on Eliese’s face with a look of trepidation.

‘Like plant the thoughts in his head or?’ Eliese questioned mentally. She pulled away from Natasha who was nodding with an evil smile writing devious all over her face. This made ‘Liese smirk at her knowingly.

‘And the purpose of this is?’ She asked curiously, wanting to know why this was such a big deal. Eliese was sure he’d just ask her to help him Google all of this, or even ask Steve for some education.

‘Super soldier hasn’t gotten laid in an exceptionally long time. This is just to get under his skin a bit. Y’know, show old school the new school ways.’ Natasha was evil, she really and truly was. ‘Liese guessed she’s been wanting to do this for a while now. Now she has a weapon slash accomplice, a motive, and a plan. Truly evil.  

“Now?” She asked out loud, realizing they hadn’t said anything out loud in a few moments. Natasha laughed and shook her head, waving a hand at the young woman.

“Take your time. Whenever you want to do it, do it.” Natasha just made things very interesting. Very interesting indeed.

After an extremely exposing game of truth or dare that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, everyone packed up shop and went to bed. But not before ‘Liese imbedded a tiny innocent thought in Bucky’s head before they parted ways in the hallway. It was nothing over the top, nothing that would make him think she was the one who put it there. Just the image of her holding hands with another girl which slowly switched to the image of her holding hands with a boy. Bucky had looked back over his shoulder at her, she saw his reflection in the doorknob. She felt his eyes scanning her up and down, taking in her appearance from behind before he scurried into his dark room. Eliese didn’t go to bed right away. She sat cross legged on her bed for an hour or so, scheming away cunningly.

The next morning Eliese was one of the first ones awake. She went down to the kitchen and made herself a bowl of multi grain Cheerios with a cup of coffee. The racket she made woke most of the team up and they came trickling in, in search for coffee and food to help cure their hangovers. Steve, on the other hand, was just fine, even though he had his fill of beers last night. Hell, he even went for a run that morning. He and Eliese made pleasant conversation about several things including the next week’s training schedule. Somehow, his schedule was changed when he wasn’t looking –Gee I wonder who could’ve done that– and put ‘Liese and Bucky in the gym to train together, alone.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear! Sauntering in was a freshly showered Bucky. His wet dark hair was slicked back from his face and he seemed to glow a very clean glow. Like polished silverware in sunlight. The Sargent sported mildly baggy grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater underneath a black hoodie that was halfway zipped up.

Eliese was mid way to her mouth with a spoonful of cereal when he came in. Her dark amber eyes watched him like a hawk, almost forgetting the clever plan she had put together when she went to bed last night. But the moment his brilliant blue eyes fixated on her; she threw the image into his head of her lustfully kissing an androgynous looking boy, or girl. Eliese couldn’t remember that person’s actual gender. His eyes immediately fell from her to the countertop between them. ‘Liese so badly wanted to smirk at his reaction, but that’d give her away to him.

The rest of the day was filled with doing an ungodly amount of paperwork. Eliese had a fair amount of paperwork to do, mainly sorting through bills and budgeting for the next few weeks. ‘Liese hated relying on the government for her funds to live. So, she did freelance podcasting for some extra cash in between saving the world and training. For most of the day, Bucky loomed by Eliese with his nose a few hundred pages in a protocol handbook. Whenever ‘Liese felt his gaze on her for longer than a few seconds, she’d imbed innocent images and thoughts of her and various gendered lovers in his head. His eyes would evade her quickly soon after.

Monday was your typical Monday. Everyone was up at an unreasonable hour of the morning, weaving in and out of the kitchen and living areas. Bucky actually avoided being in the same room as ‘Liese most of the morning. He wanted to avoid having the thoughts he’s been having and the only salvation he’d get was when he wasn’t around her. Although, he couldn’t avoid her when she came into the empty gym early that afternoon to do some training with him. Luckily, his laser focus kept him from thinking about her in such ways. But that didn’t save him from the thoughts and images that invaded his mind during dinner and the hours after dinner before bed.

Tuesday Natasha pulled Eliese aside and asked if she could amp up the antics a bit more. Eliese took that as the green light to unleash the wrath of her desires and her past experiences. So, after breakfast Eliese scouted Bucky out. She found him swimming laps in the pool outside. ‘Liese went to the poolside and began doing some yoga on her plush mat, wearing a pair of loose black short shorts that flared out around her thighs and a matching loose black racer back tank top overtop of a purple sports bra. Bucky nearly drowned when she implanted a very NSFW scene in his head. He, in a very fast sequence, escorted himself from the pool, muttering curses under his breath as he tied a towel around his waist and stomped his way back into the tower. Natasha was so pleased to have been there to witness this. She hysterically laughed into a decorative pillow on one of the lounge chairs. The rest of the day was uneventful. Eliese did not want to over do it and blow her cover.

Wednesday Eliese left Bucky well enough alone, even during training and especially when the topic of sex came back from the grave, the same way Church the cat did in Pet Semetary. With revenge and pure inhumane evil. This time, Eliese excused herself from the group to avoid having the topic becoming directed towards her again. But it didn’t stop her from thinking about past experiences and hopeful future experiences. This time, Bucky was the one to get into her head. It only made her more vengeful to get under his skin.

Thursday started with Eliese waking up much earlier than everyone else. She quickly got dressed and then tiptoed her way across the hall to the super soldier’s door. She silently hovered outside as she fed the unconscious man a very sexual dream. Not too long after she began feeding him this scene, she could hear the faint muffled groans and moans through the door. Soon after, Natasha woke up and came out of her room, eyeing Eliese outside the man’s room, holding in her giggles. She smiled to herself and pat ‘Liese on the back as she wandered past on her way to the kitchen. When Eliese heard Bucky jolt awake, cursing to himself, she scattered away and went back to her room as quickly and quietly as she could.

Unbeknownst to Eliese, Bucky was cursing to himself because he woke up when he spoiled his newly cleaned bed sheets. But she got the hint that he did in fact enjoy the dream when the two of them opened their bedroom doors in unison, coming face to face with each other. Eliese’s face became a pale shade of red, the same shade as Bucky’s. He was holding his balled-up bedding in his arms. The two of them walked side by side to the kitchen, Bucky dumping his dirty bedding into the laundry shoot on the way. Eliese couldn’t help herself. She had to replay snippets of the scene she had fed him in his head as they walked and chatted about that day’s plans. Eliese had to admit it though, he could keep his composure very well. But she was unrelenting and amped up the images and scenes, adding her wildest desires which included him binding her hands and feet together with her own clothes and spanking her until her ass was red and bruising before he face fucks her and makes her gag on his engorged manhood and finally for the big bang of a finishing act, edging each other into a tailspin of pure jubilation.

Bucky cracked under the pressure, avoiding her for the entire day after breakfast. He didn’t even show up to their training session. Which frustrated and aggravated Steve since Eliese needed a training partner and according to the schedule Bucky was supposed to train with her. So, he was upset and rather confused when he saw her in the gym all alone, beating a dummy to a pulp. When Steve found Bucky later that afternoon, he chewed him out about it. Bucky could only say he got caught up with something else, which wasn’t a complete lie. Bucky did get caught up in something else, after he went to the gym and saw Eliese doing pre warmup warmups in tight black shorts that rode up in places he hasn’t been able to keep out of his head the last few days, a loose fitting black graphic tee shirt that also rode up her stomach and back as she stretched into extremely flexible yoga poses. He had to leave after seeing that. The images and sounds that have taunted him since Saturday caused him to flee to the privacy of his room. Eliese didn’t even know he showed up, so she didn’t get the chance to plant more thoughts in his head. And she didn’t see him all afternoon.

He only showed his face at dinner, silently praying he could keep his mind elsewhere. But his efforts were fruitless. The moment he saw her sitting at the table his breathing hitched, and unfortunately for him, the last spot was right next to her. This time, when Eliese implanted images in his head, they weren’t as heavy handed as this morning. They were sweet and sensual. Bucky didn’t stick around after dinner; he had his third cold shower of the day and then went to bed early.

Friday, Bucky was up earlier than everyone else, including Eliese. He had his breakfast quickly then went into hiding, staying as far away from Eliese as he could possibly get. The team was beginning to think they had some sort of falling out about something. Natasha and Eliese knew better. Their plan was coming together rather nicely. To be honest, ‘Liese thought it’d take much longer than a few days to even begin to get under his skin. He mustn’t have gotten laid in a long time if it’s this easy to get his blood rushing. But her heart would break a little whenever she’d find him in one spot, he’d immediately get up and leave to go somewhere else. Avoiding her because he was flustered was one thing, but this wasn’t that thing. He was avoiding her out of anger now. He was angry, and it made her feel incredibly guilty for playing with him like this.

Eliese let out a heavy sigh as she entered the gym, setting the heavy bag down on the floor by the wall and giving the empty gym a once over. She couldn’t see or hear anybody else in there. Bucky wasn’t there. She doubted he’d even show up.

‘He probably has Steve or someone else coming to train with me.’ She thought sadly. When she got the training schedule, she was happy that finally she was having some alone time with Bucky. Dare or no dare. She just wanted to feel him close to her. Not just in a sexual way either. That revelation scared ‘Liese half to death. She isn’t one for romance. Lust is her game, and romance is her biggest fear. But with him, she wanted him to woo her and she wanted to woo him too. She’s begged Steve to let her train with Bucky for months but Steve didn’t think it was a good idea considering their size differences. He was scared Bucky might get a little too into it, like he usually does, and seriously hurt Eliese by accident. And then on Sunday when the schedules were given out, ‘Liese knew Nat had tampered with it so she and Bucky were in the gym together alone. But that didn’t stop Eliese from being elated with the idea of being that close to him. Dare or no dare.

Eliese squatted down and pulled her phone out from the pocket of the gym bag. She opened the text messages she shared with Natasha and frowned.

Okay. I think I’ve gotten under his skin enough. Do I win the dare yet?

Immediately her phone pinged, signalling a new text.

Not yet. Just a little longer and we should be good. 😉

‘Liese let out exasperated sigh as she examined the empty gym. She didn’t like this. Yes, this was fun in the beginning but now it’s not. Bucky’s her friend and teammate. She didn’t want to lose him at the expense of a damn dare.

“It wasn’t even a good dare,” Eliese whispered to herself harshly, throwing her phone onto the bag in frustration.

“What wasn’t a good dare, doll?” A raspy male voice asked from behind her. ‘Liese jumped to her feet, spinning around to see who was there. To her dismay, it was Bucky. He was standing a few feet away tying the draw strings to his loose-fitting grey sweatpants. Eliese looked from Bucky to her phone then back to Bucky in a quick succession with her mouth hung open, flabbergasted.

“Ugh.” ‘Liese was at a loss for words. “–Nothing,” She added then rethought that answer. Clearly it was something and he’d pick up on that. Eliese closed her eyes for a moment, trying to come up with something to say.

“A friend. Back in Louisiana was dared to do something extremely stupid and now she and somebody else are suffering.” She opened her eyes to see a bemused Bucky standing in front of her.

“What was she dared to do?” He asked curiously, crossing his arms over his puffed-out chest. As if his shoulders and chest could get any bigger!

“Lead somebody on.” The words fled Eliese’s mouth in shame. She pursed her lips and looked down at the floor in disgrace. ‘Really? That’s what you came up with? Why not just tell him that Natasha dared you to implant those thoughts in his head and play with him like a goddamn toy? How mad can he be? You know, not having control over his own mind for seventy years and all. Oh god, he’s gonna be pissed. I’m gonna die. He’s gonna kill me.’ ‘Liese thought to herself cruelly.

“Yeah, that isn’t a good dare. Playing with some else’s emotions is a very dangerous game,” Bucky mumbled, nodding in agreement. ‘Liese nodded as well. She jumped when Bucky clapped his hands. Her ochre coloured eyes found his again, a playful smile was spread across his face as he rubbed his large hands together.

“Let’s train, shall we?” Bucky was eager to get this over with. ‘Liese nodded again.

The two of them began with stretching and warmups. A few laps around the gym, Bucky taking the lead in front of a much smaller Eliese. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander his form from behind as he jogged, taking in the way his hips moved with each step. Then came a harsh round of push ups and jumping jacks. Again, her eyes couldn’t seem to pry themselves away from the way his dark grey tee shirt rode up his torso with every jump which had his arms hanging above his head for a brief second. Or how his shoulder muscles flexed and relaxed with every push up.

Eliese was done with this dare. She wasn’t going to put anything else in his head, if anything she wanted to undo everything she’s done. She was completely and utterly finished with getting to his head. But now, he was getting to hers. Especially now that they’ve begun stretching and most of the stretches required physical contact from the partner of some kind.

‘I deserve this.’ She thought gruellingly as she raised her hands above her head and leaned back as far as she could. She nearly toppled over when she looked over at Bucky, his shirt had ridden far up his upper body. His sweatpants hung extremely low on his hips, showing even more skin. A small trail of dark hairs led up his abdomen and under his shirt from the band of his sweats. Eliese had to look away and tightly close her eyes, scrunching her nose.

‘I deserve this! I deserve this! I deserve this!’ Eliese repeated this like a mantra to herself. She hated this but she also knew this was karma coming back to bite her in the ass.

‘I deserve this.’ She kept repeating to herself over and over again. Deeply and desperately believing this was true. She deserved the cruel merciless punishment karma was serving icy cold on a silver platter.

If Eliese thought warmups and stretches were torture, when they finally got on the mat to begin hand on hand combat; she was really in for it. Bucky was in no way gentle with her which caused ‘Liese to think that maybe the others were going easy on her and she really wasn’t that good of a fighter. This only egged on her need to prove herself as a rightful part of this team. But Bucky was not going to make that an easy task to do. He continuously threw her to the floor and he even chuckled about it.

Eliese scrambled to her feet after being thrown to the ground for the hundredth time. She was huffing and puffing but it wasn’t from the intense workout, it was out of pure frustration. She was sweat soaked, making the thin material of her tank top almost see through and her dark hair to cling to her skin. Her already rosy cheeks were a very deep shade of red now.

“Give up yet, doll?” Bucky asked in a mocking tone. He could only stand there looking down at Eliese with his signature smirk tugging half his face. He had barely broken a sweat. ‘Liese snickered at him and shook her head.

“I don’t give up that easily,” She replied, throwing her right leg forcefully up at him, aiming for his waist and lower ribs. There was no way she was going to aim for the shoulders, she’d break her leg against those things! To Eliese’s dismay, Bucky didn’t even blink even when he grabbed her ankle. His entire hand was able to wrap around it. ‘Liese braced herself for the inevitable fall to the floor. But it didn’t come. Instead, Bucky strode closer to ‘Liese with her ankle still in hand. His blue eyes only left her amber coloured ones when he stood a few inches away from her, holding her ankle perpendicular with the floor. He gave the view in front of him a once over. His eyes greedily eating her alive as he licked his lips. His eyes found hers again, sharing a glimmer of artfulness with another half smirk.

“Oh, I know.” He drily said. “–You’re a merciless little dame.” A shiver was sent screaming down Eliese’s spine as his came out as a raspy half whisper.

“And you need to be put in your place.” Bucky gave a swift kick to her other ankle, taking it out from under her as he let go of the one he’d been holding. Eliese landed on her back on the floor with a loud grunt. A cunning plan hatched in her head the moment her body hit the mat. She coiled her body into a ball on the ground, hands holding onto her hip as she cried out in pain. A weight crashed into Bucky’s chest as he gazed down at her rolling onto her side in anguish. His nerves became shattered as he dropped to his knees in a panic, quickly examining her for any obvious broken bones. He didn’t mean to hurt her. He didn’t think that would hurt her.

“Oh shit, ‘Liese. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean,” His apologies were cut short when Eliese twisted around, propelling her legs upwards until they wrapped around his shoulders and she thrusted her weight to the side. Bucky didn’t know what happened, one second she was crying in pain and the next she was straddling his upper chest with his arms trapped at his sides between her legs.

‘Liese shot him a cocky smile and settled her weight down on him, pinning his much larger body under hers. Although, her cocky smile was wiped away when a low growl erupted from Bucky’s chest, sending reverberations rampaging through Eliese’s lower body. This caught her off guard. Unwillingly, her eyes tightly squeezed closed, she hummed in enjoyment at the sensations and fell forward, her hands caught herself before she ended up smothering Bucky with her chest. When Eliese shifted her weight so the majority of it was off his chest, Bucky hooked his arms around her legs and pulled himself into an upright position.

‘Liese didn’t even notice this, not until her back was gently laid down on the cool mat. Her hips had slid down his torso until their hips were pressed together. Eliese opened her eyes slowly, widening in mortification when her gaze landed on the obvious wet spot on his shirt where she was once settled. The look on her face caused the super soldier’s brows to fall together confusedly. He followed her gaze down to the very obvious wet spot on his dark grey shirt. The air got caught in the back of his throat when he realized what had happened, or rather, why that happened.

He let out a nervous chuckle and looked at the red-faced girl laying on the ground between his outstretched legs. Eliese snapped out of her horrified state and met his gaze. Her heart was racing inside her chest and the words she wanted to say slipped away before she could say them.

“Buck...–I’m sorry. That wasn’t,”

“–Ah, that’s okay, doll. Nothing to be ashamed of,” He confidently supposed with a chuckle. Before she even could do or say anything, he tucked his legs underneath him and leaned forward. His arms still wrapped around her now shaky legs, bringing her hips up until they were snuggly pressed into his as he loomed over her. He lowered his face down, stopping beside Eliese’s ruby red face.

“I’m not ashamed of what I’m doing to you,” He huskily alleged in her ear. The feeling of his body heavily pressing into hers and then the way he whispered to her, this caused Eliese sharply inhaled as goosebumps rose up on her skin.

“Are you ashamed of what you’ve been doing to me?” His voice had dropped an octave or two as she spoke into her ear. His hot breath tickling her skin as he spoke. Eliese was only able to manage a shameful nod. Bucky chuckled again, sending vibrations searing through Eliese’s tiny body underneath his. It was like being set on fire from the inside, a slow torturous burn that could go on forever and ever, and ever.  

“Don’t be,” He said lowly, his voice was almost a guttural growl. This was getting too much for the smaller to handle. She knew she wanted him in ways she’s never wanted anybody else, but that was just a fantasy. This was getting too real. She couldn’t handle the excited and immoral feeling bubbling in her stomach and the wildfire roaring through her veins.  

With all her might, Eliese tried to wiggle her way from underneath him. But her efforts were futile when the super soldier tightened his arms around her legs and dragged her back towards him, pulling her hips flush against his. Eliese had to bite back the staggered and, to some extent, excited squeal when she felt something big and hard press against her butt firmly. And it wasn’t his leg. Although, for the sake of comedic relief, one could say it is a third leg. A very big, hard leg. And now it was firmly nestled against the apex of Eliese’s thighs. To both of their reliefs.  

“Oh no, no, no. Where do you think you’re going, doll?” He darkly chortled, holding her firmly against him. He pressed some weight down onto her to keep her from being able to wiggle away again. She could only lay there staring up at him wide eyed, her flushed face was glowing a hell fire red and her body was throwing off the same heat.

“Bu…  –Bucky, please,” ‘Liese pleaded in shallow pants. She pleaded with her entire being to him. Her dark eyebrows were pulled together, and her dark amber coloured eyes begged him to let her go. Her mind was begging him to let her go, but her shaking body deserted her with her desires, begging him to make a move already, otherwise she was going to explode with tension.

“Please, what?” He goaded. His iron gaze never left her trembling body or her pleading face. He licked his lips as his stare stayed on her.  

“You don’t like it when people play games with your emotions?” He questioned, his voice dipping lower than before. His usually bright blue eyes were darkened with lust as they bore down into Eliese’s soul. As if he was watching every secret desire she has, like a movie on the silver screen. This made the smaller female feel exposed and vulnerable, but she’d be lying if it didn’t entice her to keep going, see how far this could go before either of them broke.

“With your desires?” He asked, again dropping his voice lower and lower. Eliese could feel tears beginning to form behind her eyes. The look of fear made itself known across her flushed face. This made Bucky unwrap his arms from her legs, giving her the option to get up and leave. But she didn’t move an inch. ‘Liese stayed half laying over his lap and half on the polyester mat that was sticky from sweat and the heat from their bodies. Bucky took this as a sign she wanted to stay, even though she was scared senseless.

“FRIDAY lock the gym doors,” He demanded in a raspy voice. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the fear transform into need and want; a primal selfishness that darkened her already dusky eyes. Without thinking, Bucky dipped his head down until his lips crashed against hers in a burst of needy passion. He grinned into the kiss when her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her as the lust fuelled kiss became needier and needier. Her hand found the nape of his neck, tangling in the long strands that were dampened by the light sheen of sweat seeping from his hairline. Eliese could swear hell wouldn’t be nearly a hot as her skin felt in that moment. Especially when his hand found her hip tightly. This made ‘Liese gasp unwillingly in excitement and surprise. Bucky took this opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips as the hungry kiss became more heated.  

His large hand easily engulfed her narrow hip, his fingers curved over the round of her butt while his thumb sat in the crease of her thigh. His fingers dug into the fabric flesh of her butt headily. Eliese so desperately wished for his thumb to extend so it’ll follow the natural valley to where she wanted him the most, to where she needed him the most. To utter her dismay his hand did the exact opposite and disappeared, as did his lips crushing hers.

Oxygen flooded her brain as she opened her eyes to see where he had gone, and why he had gone. But the newly found air inflating her lungs leaped from her chest when she saw his once vibrant blue eyes were now a midnight blue and nearly overwhelmed by his dilated pupils. His dark hair had fallen from the bun, shadowing his face and his dark eyes burrowing into her soul. His broad chest heaved deep breathes, his lips parted slightly. He was now sitting upright between her quivering legs. The way he looked down at her, it was as though he was looking at her like she was his prey and there was no getting away. It both terrified and thrilled the smaller.

He carefully wrapped his hands around her hips and slid her off his lap until she laid on the mat at his side. Eliese was finding it impossible to do anything beyond laying still, staring wide eyed at him as she forced her lungs to take in any amount of air. Her body shivered noticeably when his hands moved from her hips up to the waistband of her black yoga pants, hiking up the black tank top to reveal the thick band of her pants. His darkened eyes moved from hers to the fabric wrapped around the pale flesh of her waist then back to hers. He fingered the thick band as though asking if this was okay. Eliese had lost any ability to speak so in response to his unasked consent, she jerked her hips up from the floor.

Prudently and excruciatingly slowly, he began pulling them down inch by inch. A gasp of air got caught in the back of her throat when his knuckles grazed over her thighs. A jolt of nervousness and exhilaration screamed up her spine at the feeling of his skin brushing one thigh while the cool metal of his other hand touched the other. Bucky stopped immediately and watched her face, looking for any signs that she wanted him to stop what he was doing. But there were none. So, he continued, pulling the black leggings down her jittery legs. An amused grin fell across his face when he saw the white fabric of her panties, tie-dyed with greys, purples and oranges. Obviously one of the many Halloween themed panties in her collection.

“I never took you for a tie-dye person,” He said, admiring Eliese’s charming choice of panties. “–Eat me, hey?” He cocked an eyebrow at the shimmery purple lettering on the front of the panties. Eliese couldn’t help but hysterically and nervously giggle at this moment. When she chose her underwear this morning, she wasn’t thinking they’d be seen by anyone but her, nevertheless by the super soldier she’s been playing a game of cat and mouse with for a week. But it didn’t break either of them from continuing the moment. Bucky resumed back to pulling the black leggings down until they were bunched up around Eliese’s ankles. His eyes took in the dark red and purple-blue splotches that littered the smaller’s legs. ‘Liese stifled a laugh, knowing he was wondering where, why and how the many bruises came to be.

“I bruise like a peach.” She tried to sit up on her elbows, but she fell back down with force when Bucky’s hands pressed on her shoulders, pushing her back down into some sort of submission. ‘Liese let out a squeal when her bound legs were yanked on until she lay diagonally from her previous position, and her legs were hoisted up on Bucky’s shoulder. He leered at the small woman as he leaned forward until his hands were on either side of her head and his hips loomed over hers teasingly. He tauntingly tilted his head as he looked down at her, a devious smirk curving half his face.

“You like them, don’t you?” He asked dryly. He rocked his body forward slowly, making sure not to let his hips touch hers. He wanted to tease her until she’s begging him. He loves it when she begs him. Whenever he’d tease her in a joking way; holding something she wants above her head, just out of her reach and she’d beg him to give it back; that is the first time he wondered what she’d sound like if she was begging him to make her orgasm after a long string of teasing. She didn’t need him to put those thoughts in his head, they were already there. Those thoughts are what made Bucky go to Steve and determinedly request not to put him and ‘Liese in the gym to train together.

Eliese let out a penurious whimper as he steadily rocked his body over hers, avoiding any contact between their hips. Her brows rutted as she tried to wiggle her hips for any sort of friction. Bucky darkly chuckled and shook his head.

“If you don’t answer me, I’ll keep you like this. And you know I can keep this up all day,” He began. “–I’ll ask again, do you like it when your lovers mark you, leave bruises and love bites?” He asked as he ghostly rolled his hips over hers, just enough to let her know he was there but not enough to give her any satisfaction. Frustrated and lust fuelled tears spilled from Eliese’s dark eyes as she tried to find her voice which had once again abandoned her. She could only whimper beneath him. She so desperately wanted to answer him, but she couldn’t. She could see him growing impatient above her which only scared her voice away further.

In the blink of an eye Bucky had sat up and flipped Eliese over onto her stomach. He rested his chest over her back lightly, brushing her dark hair behind her ear. He leaned his face down until his hot breath smothered the side of her face. Eliese could only let out shaky pants of air as her cheek was pressed against the blue wrestling mat. From the corner of her eye she saw Bucky’s form over hers.

“Because judging by what you showed me yesterday, you love it.” With that Bucky brought back a hand, raising it above his head before it swiftly moved through the air until it met the pale flesh of Eliese’s ass. Eliese let out a gaudy lude yelp as the cold metal met her soft flesh harshly. A vibrant red handprint was left in its wake. He waited a moment for her to answer him, and when she didn’t, he repeated his actions with a tad bit more power. Each time his hand contacted her she’d let out an equally loud and lude cry, which caused a noticeable twitch from Bucky’s untouched erection each time. Tears made puddles on the plush wrestling mat around Eliese’s face, out of pure frustration, nervousness, and needy want.

“Eliese, if you don’t tell me, I’ll leave you here. Untouched. Exposed. A mess. Horny to the point where only I will be able to satisfy you,” He said to her lowly, after bringing his body and hands away from her. Eliese let out a barely audible needy cry that was mixed with hindrance. She turned her head away from him, burying her face into the mat under her to hide whatever emotion was most prominent on her flushed face. She shook violently, begging her voice to come back so his promise went undone and she could get some form of release. Bucky hummed at the sights and sounds in front of him.  

“Yes,” She whispered shakily. She took a deep, uneven breath. “–Yes, I do.” This earned an approving hum from the super soldier before he planted gentle kisses across her shoulder blades. She could only let out shaky whimpers when his assault on her backside subsided and was replaced with the soothing feeling of his cool hand gentling rubbing the scorching abused skin. Eliese closed her eyes at the feeling, turning her face so her cheek was back to being pressed against the mat.

“Do you want me to mark you up?” He asked, gently but firmly tapping the dark red bruising skin. A wave of pain ridden but satisfactory shakes screamed through her body. Eliese’s face scrunched as she took a steadying breath.

“Mhm,” She could only hum in response. Bucky chuckled as he ran his fingertips over the dark red spots where his abuse of her ass was more evident.

“I need words, doll,” He said, giving another light tap to the purpling place amongst the redness. Eliese inhaled sharply, her body tensing at the feeling. She had to stabilize herself with quick shallow gasps.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Bucky demanded forebodingly; his hand gently followed the curve of her backside to between her shuddering thighs. His touch ghosted over the wet, hell fire like heat between her legs. Unwillingly, Eliese’s hips jerked back to follow his trace but his other hand firmly grasped the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Bucky,” She squirmed under his grasp.

“Yes, what?” His voice dripped with dominance and the will to drive the smaller into submission. As lightly as he could he ran his fingers the length between her throbbing clit and her desperate and soaking wet entrance. Eliese shuddered at the feeling.

“Please,” ‘Liese innocently begged as all morality began to vanish from her mind.

“Yes, what?” This time his voice came out as a sinister command. Eliese’s face scrunched at the feeling of his fingers ghosting over the drenched part of her panties. The tips of his fingers taunted her entrance lightly. And with that, Eliese snapped into submission.

“Yes! I want you mark me. Please!” She cried as loudly as her trembling voice allowed. A grim chuckle left Bucky as he rested his hand on the small of her back and removed the one from the back of her neck.

“Now,” He whirred against her ear as he rested over her trembling body. “–Was that so hard?” ‘Liese peeled her eyes open and took in the shadowy figure that loomed over her. She let out a soft sigh when his lips pressed against the shell of her ear. Without thinking she reached back to touch whatever part of him she could get her hands on. Her fingertips ghosted over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble that shadowed his jaw. He turned his face into her touch momentarily to kiss her palm before going back to pressing his lips to her ear.

He pulled away from her, causing ‘Liese to wince at the lack of contact. But she gasped when his large hands had found themselves wrapped around her waist and flipped her over onto her back again. Bucky took in her appearance, noting how the fearful expression was entirely gone now and was replaced with a heavenly semblance. Her face was still flushed and wet from tears. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, catching quick breathes between her parted lips to supply her brain with the oxygen she’s struggling to obtain. Her half-closed dark eyes seemed to be entirely black due to her blown out pupils.

He smiled at the sight of her completely consumed by the state he catapulted her into. He leaned down, placing his lips on hers gently. Eliese sighed against his lips as her hands found their way into his soft hair.

“Such a good girl,” Bucky purred against her lips. His mouth formed his classic smirk when she softly moaned against his lips in response to his praise. His smirk broadened when she stifled a whimper when his hand gently trailed down her exposed stomach to the bright orange lacy band of her underwear. His hand stayed there, curling, and uncurling his fingers gently over her skin. Unknowingly to Bucky, Eliese untangled one of her hands from his hair, letting it fall onto her torso before it sneakily travelled from her body to his. His nerves became fiery when he felt her hand linger over his flexed thigh, delicately brushing the back of her hand up it. This time it was his turn to gasp in surprise when her fingertips danced over his needy erection.

The super soldier had to pull away from ‘Liese, bowing his head down against her breastbone as his breathing hitched and his once sturdy arms shook. The steady, rushing rivers of pleasure coursed through his entire body and his mind was merely river rafting down it, with only the blind hope he’d make it out on the other side in one piece. He hadn’t realized exactly how badly he wanted to be touched until her fingers lightly skated up and down his length.

“‘Liese,” He breathed against her chest, lifting his head to look at her equally pleasured expression. “–You need to stop that.” Eliese watched his jaw clench when she curled her fingers over the obvious figure pressing against the grey sweatpants. Her dark eyebrows furrowed in playful curiosity, lighting grabbing hold of him.

“Why?” She innocently asked, flexing and unflexing her fingers around him in a rhythmical way. His entire body violently shivered at the feeling.

“Because,” He panted heavily. “–I’m close.” ‘Liese shared a quizzical expression as she continued her actions. He’d twitch in her hand with each delicate and calculated movement.

“Close? Close to what?” She questioned in an equally innocent demeanor, but it was laced with playful mischief. Eliese continued to gently touch Bucky’s erection, loving the reaction she was pulling out of him. She yelped when Bucky swiftly grabbed her wrists with one hand, pinning them down against the plush mat. Eliese twisted her hips around so her ass was facing his hips, getting ready for the inevitable. With his other hand he pulled at the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down around his knees. Bucky pushed Eliese’s panties aside and in one swift motion he entered her.

Both of their minds reeled at the feeling. ‘Liese loving how his large cock stretched her, pressing against her walls firmly. She couldn’t help but twitch and squirm underneath him. Bucky held himself inside of her, loving the feeling of her walls pulsing around him. He was amazed by how hot and wet she was as she squeezed him. He stayed there, letting them both get used to the physical feeling of their bodies being connected.

“Are you okay?” Bucky breathlessly asked, peering down at Eliese. Her dark eyes were practically rolling at the feeling of being filled like this. A dopey smile fell across her face, she nodded blissfully.

“You can do something now,” She said softly. Bucky nodded in acknowledgment. He slowly, pulled his hips back until the head of his erection was barely inside her before roughly thrusting back into her. This earned a low moan from the smaller. He continued his movements, still pinning her wrists down.

His thrusts began to get faster and harder. Bucky was beginning to lose himself in the moment, completely enjoying the experience and sensations overrunning his mind and body.

“Is this what you wanted, little girl?” He growled, wrapping his free hand around her throat firmly. “­–You wanted me to fuck you like this?” Bucky began to squeeze his right hand that was wrapped around her throat. Eliese’s mind was entirely vacant of any coherent thought. Feeling his cock stroking every inch of her walls with each thrust, on top of his hand firmly squeezing her throat, had sent her mind and body into a state of euphoria. Her head was lost in the clouds and her body felt like it was floating.

“You wanted me to fuck you like a slut?” He remarked through gritted teeth. Eliese let out a high pitched moan, loving the wet sounds coming from their lower regions mixed with Bucky’s growling degradation.

“Is that why you showed me how badly you wanted me? Wanted me to make you my slut?” He snarled lowly. He released her wrists momentarily to rip open the gym shirt and sports bra, exposing her chest to the cool air of the gym. Her nipples immediately hardened from the contact the air condition room. He gripped her throat a little tighter, making sure not to choke her out but enough to send her into a dizzy haze. His leaned down and bit her left breast hard enough to break the skin. Small pools of blood immediately showed up and a dark blue-purple mark accented the bite mark. This earned a loud cry of pleasure from Eliese. Bucky continued to thrust into the smaller at a fast and rough pace while biting down on Eliese’s chest, leaving more bite marks and bruises.

Eliese could feel it, the inevitable rollercoaster approaching the highest point feeling. The air in her body lifted as her skin cooled down. Tingles ran from her toes to her knees. Her eyes tightly closed to shield herself from the drop that was coming next.

“Mmmmmm,” She hummed as the approach was getting closer. “–Bucky…almost…there,” She murmured between heavy breathes.

“Not yet, you’re not.” Bucky smirked to himself, stopping all movement. He released her throat and wrists, sitting up with his cock still inside her. Eliese groaned in disapproval, trying to wriggle her hips in such a way in hopes Bucky’s stilled erection would hit that one special spot to send her flying into euphoria but she couldn’t find it.

The super soldier pulled out of her, earning another disapproving groan from the elfin woman. He grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her knees. He hoisted her ass up while keeping her face against the mat. Bucky, grabbed onto the hem of her panties and pulled them down her thighs, stopping at her bent knees.

Eliese had no idea what he was up to. She started to twist around to get a better view of him but that was interrupted by the feeling of a hot and wet tongue dipping into her core. Eliese squealed in delight. She fell down, face planting into the wrestling mat as her legs shook.

Bucky grinned to himself as he lapped his tongue from her clit to her entrance, probing the wet entrance confidently. With his left hand he reached between her legs and found her clit. He gently pinched it between his forefinger and thumb. Every time Eliese would moan Bucky would hum in response, probing his tongue deeper. He chuckled in amusement when ‘Liese screamed in pleasure when the metal touching her clit began vibrating. Her legs shook as she rocked her hips back against his face. Bucky removed his mouth from her entrance and watched as she kept rocking her hips back towards him.

“Mmm, you taste fucking delicious,” He told her, slapping her bruising ass with his right hand. Eliese shrieked loudly, clenching her thighs around Bucky’s hand. Bucky chuckled again, running his right hand from her welting and bruising rear to the soaking wet entrance. He gently traced her opening with his fingertips while he kept his other fingers wrapped around her clit. Sending a new wave of tingles rushing through Eliese’s legs and toes.

Finally, Bucky pushed two fingers into her core. He began slowly stroking her walls. Eliese’s moans became broken as her eyes rolled. A loud cry erupted from her when she felt Bucky’s fingers curl against her A spot.

“Please, please, please,” Eliese mindlessly begged. “–Please let me cum!” Her cry came out wobbly and desperate. Bucky thrusted his fingers into her deeper and faster, curling his fingers against her walls.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Can you say that again?” Bucky mocked in a low voice. Eliese gave him a throaty moan, throwing her hips back into his hand. She so badly wanted more. Her greedy cunt wanted more.

“Bucky, please!” She cried out loud. “–Please let me cum.” Eliese’s begs and pleads caused Bucky to darkly titter at her. Eliese swore her legs were going to give out before Bucky was done with her.

“You’re a greedy little slut aren’t you?” Bucky asked, pushing his fingers knuckles deep into her core and curling them against her walls. He grinned widely when he felt her walls begin to pulse around him, signaling her orgasm was near.

“Yes, I am,” She huffed. “–I’m a greedy little slut,” Eliese practically screamed. Her sore throat was somewhere in the back of her hazy mind, but she was too busy floating around in the euphoric feeling Bucky was supplying her.

“And you want me to let you cum?” He quizzed with an arched eyebrow. From his point of view, Eliese was looking like a slice of heaven on the floor. Her body trembled, a light sheen of sweat glistened over her flushed skin. Eliese’s eyes were clamped shut, brows furrowed, and lips parted slightly.

“Yes, please. Please let me cum!” She replied with a hoarse voice. Eliese let out a whine when Bucky’s fingers left her. But she was soon filled to the brim once again. Bucky thrusted his cock into Eliese without warning. His hands were tightly holding onto Eliese’s narrow hips, sure to leave dark bruises in their wake.

Eliese was completely blissed out at this point. Bucky could throw her at a wall, and she wouldn’t care. She was lost in all the sensations overruling her body. It felt as though she was floating along a lazy river. Her head was swimming. And these sensations translated to her core squeezing and pulsing around Bucky’s member.

This made him thrust into her faster and harder. He grabbed onto her ponytail and pulled it, bringing her back to meet his chest. His other hand wrapped around her throat. Bucky could feel Eliese’s heart beating quickly in the artery in her neck.

“Okay doll,” Bucky murmured in her ear. “–Cum for me,” He gravelly growled against her ear. That was all Eliese needed to hear. She didn’t even realize she was consciously holding back her orgasm until she could just let go. Warm tingles erupted up her legs into her spine. Her mind being catapulted over the highest point of the rollercoaster. Eliese’s body violently shook against his as he continued to thrust into her, riding out her orgasm and chasing after his high.

After a few more thrusts Bucky’s hips stiffened, burying his cock deep inside of Eliese. He was overcome with the feeling of warm water rushing through his groin. His entire body exploded with tingles as his mind was sling shot into the same euphoria Eliese was currently lost in. All while his cock was filling Eliese’s core with his cum, letting it drip out and down her thighs.

The pair of them collapsed onto the plush wrestling mat. Bucky, being careful not to land on top of the smaller. They both panted heavily as they came back to their senses.

“That was…”

“Ugh-huh,” Bucky agreed, knowing what Eliese was about to say.

“You were… wow,” Eliese was at a loss for words. Bucky laughed and nodded in flattery.

“You were wow too,” He told her. Eliese immediately beginning to giggle from all the emotions and sensations her body just went through. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle along with her. Their giggles were silenced by Eliese’s phone pinging from across the room.

“Looks like you won the dare,” Bucky said. Eliese closed her eyes and nodded in agreement.

“I totally won the dare.”