#life that people were speaking metaphorically when they talked about their minds eye and shit?

[running-in-the-dark]

okay I need to know this now. can't stop thinking about it (haha....) since I read that post.

so. you're supposed to just be able to stop thinking about things?? whenever you want? like. anything? even the really bad things? just. decide to not think about it anymore/at that moment/whatever??

[thelavendercatalogue]

@dagmartoons here ya go :D _ _ _

The leg has always been their worry. . .the broken hip, busted knee, possible broken femur from his leg getting crushed in the car. Femurs are hard things to break. Their also the most at risk when they break due to potential issues that can occur with to all the major blood vessels and muscle networks and nerves and such. The leg had always been their worry, always been the main goal to save cause god forbid Lupin loose it and really have his life screwed up. . .Jigen can deal with rehabilitation, but he cannot deal with the outcome that may occur if Lupin looses the leg

Doctors are worried when infection sets in, but so much shit is wrong with the guy that it’s not surprising. . .what IS surprising is when the infection gets worse and suddenly Jigen is in a room surrounded by a bunch of people in white suits all discussing the idea of the most dreaded word Jigen has ever heard in his life and as they try to convince him that maybe it would be more beneficial for the leg to go

Infection isn't something to mess around with. For his leg to be so badly mutilated to the point of his blood essentially poisoning him, a discussion of possibly amputating the limb must be had. Jigen probably would fight as much as possible against the idea, imploring and even begging them to try every other possible route because he knows just how much Lupin needs both of his legs

like lupin is good at robotics

he could make a new leg

could deck it out and make it work as good as he can

but it's still the idea

not to mention the phantom pain would be nearly unbearable at times

Bit of a gut punch given the choice to attempt to continue treatment for his leg or to simply amputate it altogether, But Lupin asked for Jigen to help him make the decision.

But once again, Jigen finds himself freezing.

He has no idea what to say,

So he tells Lupin that he has to think about it for a little while. Which he has time to do, but he's still on the metaphorical clock, so to speak

But he doesn't "think"

At least not right away

Instead he just dips to cope and put it at the back of his mind for a while by hopefully spending some "time" with fujiko

Of fucking course he quickly learns that that isn’t going to work and he just has to say it to her

Him randomly just walking into Fujiko’s hotel room after dealing with this whole debacle for a few hours and originally he came here for a little “stress relief” but obviously Fujiko notices something is up by how he’s sitting on the end of the bed with his fingers steepled against his mouth and how cold and stone like he looks in his eyes.

Looks that she’d know by now mean that he was internally debating with himself and not liking the outcome of the argument

She asks him what’s up and oh imagine how bluntly he says the next words to her

“They wanna take his leg”

fujiko's heart dropping when she hears it, part of her hopes she misheard him but she knows what he said all she can think to respond with is a soft and fearful "what?"

Jigen chuckling as if in disbelief

“haha. . .yeah not the best news I’ve gotten all week”

Fujiko stopping everything and being like "ok we need to get everyone together and talk about this" bc it's literally pt 2 of that whole 'what would we do if Lupin couldn't thieve anymore' discussion

Jigen just taking a deep breath and nodding when Fuji says they need to talk about this. That all of them need to talk

No amount of "stress relief" would be able to fix this It's too somber, too severe

So they get dressed or whatever they have to do to get themselves situated and start making some calls

Fuji calling up Goe, jigen calling Zeni

Time passes and they all convene in Fuji's hotel room

Zeni probably shows up last, but they tell Goe and Zeni the news at the same time

They feel horrible having this sort of discussion without Lupin here with them-- but at the same time, it's one that they couldn't have if he were here, either.

so HERE are the Oppositions

Jigen and Zenigata: Amputation

Jigen's undecided ofc, that's kinda the whole point

And it doesn't matter if it's majority, they'd all decide pretty early on that the decision needs to be unanimous

Zeni would say amputate. Not because it'd mean Lupin can't be a thief anymore (or that it'd be a while until he figures out how to thieve again), that's the last thing he wants, but because it's the safest option. The best guarantee of recovery and the greatest avoidance of the unthinkable.

Considering how jigen might be frantic to fix it and for things to finally calm back down, he'd probably be leaning towards amputation for the same sort of reasons as Zeni. But the idea of Lupin losing a leg is absolutely terrifying to him, not to mention Lupin counting on him to decide whether to make the call or not.

Fujiko: No Amputation

Fujiko could reason that Lupin doesn’t do well with change and would be on the side of Non-Amputation. Not in the regular sense of people not doing well with change but in the sense that he has so very few constants in his life and he leans on those so heavily even if it’s not noticeable to outsiders. He has those few constants and without those tethers he loses himself. And right now things are already changing so much she doesn’t want him to have to lose anything else.

Fujiko won’t admit it, but Jigen knows how much she cares for Lupin, he’s come to accept the notion, especially in the weeks that have followed since this shit started.

Much like him, she has not handled the stress very well. The reason why Fujiko tends to stay is suave hotels attached to casinos

lots of big headed blue-bloods making it big, lots to swoon over her and lots of idiots she can steal from.

Because Lupin was everything to them. Without him they're drowning in how much they miss him and coping in ways they know

But Jigen is smart because also knows deep down that anyone riding the wave will eventually have to get off or fall

Fujiko just seems to end up falling more often now. Much like Lupin and Jigen, her tethers are snapping and if it makes her feel miserable

god what is it gonna do to Lupin

Goemon: No Amputation

Goemon's a bit tricky, but I'd say he'd be the most against it. He's very into self-improvement (shit way to put it but idk how else to) and would wholeheartedly believe that Lupin would be able to power through whatever sort of recovery might be necessary, no matter how much time it might take and no matter the risk to his health (bc lets be honest, Goemon tends to do the same thing to himself).

Honestly I just really like the idea of Goemon getting the chance to go off for once ;;;

Like, he can't fking believe that zeni and jigen are even considering amputation, it's completely unfathomable to him and he just digs into them for it

They've all been injured severely at some point and this has never been offered up as an option before, he doesn't understand how this scenario would be different from any of those other time

but imagine Jigen digs into the fact that Goemon hasn’t even been up to see Lupin since this happened and questioning him as to why everyone else has been up to see him besides Goemon

………goemon snapping back that jigen never gave him the chance to

which leads to

Jigen and Goemon Argument

Jigen actually ends up getting into a shouting match with Goemon on how dare he judge their decisions when he hasn’t even had the stones to go UP and see Lupin. And how he refuses to allow Goemon to use the fact he’s been guarding his sister as a excuse cause even MADDIE has pushed him to visit but Goemon refused

Jigen saying that Goemon never needed his permission to visit lupin,

but Goemon saying that he had no way of knowing that when he's been avoiding him ever since that fight he had with lupin in pt 5

Jigen railing into him over what he did. Because tbh this fight has been a long time coming and Jigen didn’t want to say anything about it but tensions are high and Jigen is on a trigger

He won’t say things he regrets though he’s close to it, but he will mention that Goemon has a lot of nerve considering what he did

And if Goemon tries to use the excuse that he has never been the only one to try and kill each other of the group, and that they’ve done it all the time and what makes the difference now

Only for Jigen to point out how no one has EVER actually tried to kill each other and that’s what Goemon doesn’t seem to get, they have always pretended but no one except Goemon has actively tried to KILL someone from this group and not only that nearly succeeded in doing so

However before he can continue, too Jigen’s surprise, however, Zeni steps into the ring in Goemon's defense for one simple reason

Zeni would probably say that jigen hasn't seen the full extent of Goemon's regret, and the fact that Goemon gave up everything when he believed he had 'defeated' lupin is proof enough that Goemon isn't making some kind of 'excuse' for what he did.

At the end, I'm sure they're all aware that Jigen is just snapping under stress. He's upset, he wants Lupin better, he doesn't want to have the conversation about his leg, he doesn't want to make these choices, he just wants to wake up beside him in bed and this is all just a bad dream

but thats not gonna happen any time soon. . .

[parvamundi]

The Han Solo metaphor falls apart disastrously when Mr. Armstrong starts bringing Sammy around for visits. Sure, it could just make him Kylo Ren, but what did that make Ollie? Besides, Auntie Lou might have been Leia but that made mom Luke and Luke didn't have any kids for her to be. Yeah. The whole thing's just been shot to shit, but that's okay. Weird as it is to be introduced to someone who goes by the same thing her father calls her, Sammy is okay people. Which makes sense.. he's an Armstrong after all. She likes watching him kick a soccer ball around in the yard, showing off his little tricks and looking pleased and bashful all at once when it makes him an easy favorite with the Mexican side of the family. Mom claims she's gonna buy him off Mr. Armstrong and sell him to the highest South American bidder and Sam, even knowing she's joking, can't help but wonder what it might be like if Sammy lived with them in her house— just down a hall instead of a whole country away on opposite coasts. She can't help but think then they might actually do what they keep dancing around doing but never do. At least she sure as hell never leans in first, even when the moment seems right, because she can never shake the thought that they only have so many days until he's on a flight back home and what would be the point in tasting something she can't actually have?

"If your dad says you're not for sale one more time, I think mom might just kidnap you." Small towel held out, she feels like some kind of a cliche, bringing the athletic boy his water bottle and something to dry off with but it hadn't started that way— it wasn't intentional. She was just... and he was over there sweaty and thirsty looking.. and it's HER house.. so it's only polite to... feel like an idiot in her own backyard, the heavy gaze of beloved aunts and uncles anything but discreet on her back. God, they're probably making bets about them. Sam flips the bird back behind herself and never takes her eyes off Sammy, as if it'll keep him from noticing. "It's not so bad here. My aunts and their Stus and Bullets actually go home sometimes. And Tara's in her shut herself up in her room phase. We could have most of the place to ourselves."

And the privacy to match. The kind she sneaks him into after dinner, when everyone's lounging about, drinking, smoking, talking... wrapped up in their own adult world; finally leaving her the room to tug him by the hand under her treehouse and set herself up with closed eyes and lightly puckered lips for a kiss.

( @echoestm )

Leaving California had become increasingly more difficult as of late. Leaving her had become nearly unbearable. Sure, there were girls on the east coast, cute ones, fun ones, but no one like her.

She was so distinct in his mind that he'd even shared his thoughts about her to his mother, which was a huge first. Suzy teared up, sniffled, and apologized for their life apart from his father and the little life Sammy had begun a whole country away. He understood, he did, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't still suck.

But he had the summer. They did. The whole summer to hang out and play and watch the grown-ups act weird around them or listen to them tease. It had been great so far, the greatest of his life maybe. Things are so different there, more laid back, fun, so much less hectic. He spends time with friends who feel like family rather than just actual family, like back home, in New York, where it's school, home, the tavern, or Aunt Anna's or Grandpa Sam's for weekend dinners. The Scotts were numerous and wonderful, but they weren't... like this.

Every time Ms. Christina talks about selling him off to the soccer (football) teams, he grins proudly and laughs at his father's reaction. When Sam mentions getting kidnapped, Sammy doesn't mind the thought, until he thinks of his mom and how much she'd miss him. He simply smiles, gives her a couple nods, but says nothing. He doesn't want to dwell on the what ifs.

And speaking of... There'd been quite a few that summer, but the particular one that consistently crossed his mind was what if they kissed. He found he couldn't stop thinking about it most of the time and only did when Mr. Loomis glared his way. In the moments he wasn't under that man's watchful eye, he considered asking Sam if he could kiss her or just leaning in and doing it and waiting for her to slug him. The time never seemed right though and he was still so unsure if that was even something she wanted.

Until she had him by the hand, drawing him to seclusion.

His brain doesn't process it at first, confused, staring down at her like an idiot for a moment when he realizes her lids are closed, lips puckered, chin tilted up. She's waiting, patiently maybe, for him to stop being a moron and make the move. Sam always seemed the type to wait for nothing, take charge, take what she wanted, and she's standing there waiting on him. He's so foolish and stupid for not moving sooner, but he's present and shifting, moving closer. A gentle hand lands on her upper arm before his presses his lips to hers, soft at first, timid, giving her space to stop this at any moment if she wants. When she doesn't pull away, Sammy applies a little more pressure, urging her to continue despite the fact that his heart feels as if it'll pound right through his sternum into hers.

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Find the Word Game XV

(Double Feature)

tagged by: @oh-no-another-idea & @zmwrites!! my words: candle, wax, sunlight, dandelion, butter, play, step, miss, scramble tagging: @drippingmoon, @druidx, @drabbleitout, @sleepy-night-child, @ashen-crest, and lady luck though she and I are not on speaking terms at the moment your words: morning, evening, night, day, dark, moon

candle (Aurora)—

Thrive pressed his fingers against his water and the surface began to frost over, ice crystals spider-webbing out from the points where his skin met the glass. He then took a fork and began to break the thin layer of ice at the top. "I am quite cognizant to your love of space…as it's one of your many idiosyncrasies with which I am utterly enraptured."

"As evidenced by this," Warren added, gesturing toward the nebula. "You really didn't have to go through so much trouble for me, though."

"Why not? It's our anniversary."

There was a pause. "What?" Warren blinked. "Really? You've kept track of the exact day we got married ———?"

Shaking his head, Thrive lifted his water to his lips. "The day we met."

Warren inhaled sharply, veins filling with heat and veneration. Thrive's brilliant eyes sparkled verdant under the light of the candle, and Warren wanted little else but to be inside his mind at that moment. "October fifteenth."

"Correct." Thrive took another sip of water and glanced at the patrons inside the restaurant, on the other side of the tinted glass wall. "The night I landed in Ruria Lake."

wax (Warpath)—

"When was the last time you went to Leviathan?"

Warren sighed, taking the mug of coffee from Thoeala as she joined him at the edge of the cliff the next morning. "It doesn't feel like that long ago. Let me tell you…I hate going there alone. It's like a fucking prison fortress."

She regarded him, hands at her hips, obsidian ponytail waving in the breeze. "You've been doing a good job taking over for Daddy, though."

Warren swallowed a sip of the caffeinated beverage and gazed out at the ocean again. "Yeah…I'm suffocating, actually. I don't know how he does it. And of course he's gone gallivanting across the galaxy right as another crisis hits. I've handled them before, but this one feels different." He looked at Thoeala. "...[Sinkship] didn't deserve this."

She waxed sympathetic. "No, she didn't. She started a lot of conflict that made life a living hell for all of us, but she didn't deserve this."

sunlight (Rebirth)—

Warren sighed. "Well, Mr. Sympa—"

"Eugh, nope. Guetry. Mr. Sympa's a lanky French man currently on business somewhere around Mars, probably cursing me out under his breath because I haven't called him in a couple weeks and it's almost his birthday."

"Right…I wanted to talk to you about helping to bring this all to a permanent end."

Guetry did not resume his seat but instead leaned his hands on the table, imparting Warren with a long look of abject offense that displaced the default mischief. "Okay, look…people were born, lived their lives, and died of old age during these wars. Whole planets ravaged with battlefields, mass graves floating for eternity in the dead of space, soldiers of all species getting killed every damn day to these wars. Families torn apart, hope completely dashed along every waking hour…what kinda ignorant, stone-cold arrogance do you have to possess to think you alone can be the metaphorical sunlight breaking through this raincloud shit-show, brother?"

"Not alone, no. I have an obhelian."

A look of recognition crossed Guetry's face and he narrowed his eyes again. "The obhelian?"

"Yep."

dandelion flower (Meridian)—

Atoa and the guards, dwindling down in number, led them to the kitchens, the gym, the training room, and finally to the simulated courtyard where a surprisingly luscious garden grew under artificial weather lamps. Vegetables, fruits, flowers of all kinds beautified the space and Thrive looked enchanted, which surprised Warren.

"I smell at least four flowers from Tournaltis," Thrive said, walking past a bench to survey the vegetable area. "And...three from C'o."

"What happened to a good rose, huh?" Warren asked, leaning into a marble pillar.

Thrive came to a sudden halt, reaching over to pull a single orange rose into view past a bush. He looked at Warren.

"Damn," Warren said, smiling. "That was kinda hot, I won't lie."

"You never do," Thrive said, letting the rose move back into place. "Not about that, anyway."

butter (Aurora)—

My Bear—

Warren already had to pause to give himself time to recover. He'd forgotten that his mother used to call him that, particularly closer to the time she passed, and he could almost hear her beckoning him to the couch to watch her weave baskets for their neighbors. Her scent, honey and whipped butter from her daily breakfast, wafting in front of his nose from olfactory recall alone. He'd play with her hair, braided down to her waist, unbraiding and teaching himself to re-braid it by following the natural waves. Her expressive brown eyes, eyes he wished he'd inherited growing up. He envied the way the light would turn them gold.

Taking a deep breath and sitting down on his bed, Warren continued reading his mother's shaky handwriting through blurred vision.

My Bear,

I trust you have finally decided it's time to read this. That means you need strength more than you ever have before, and I am about to provide it to you.

play (Meridian)—

"I'm surprised y'all don't have bodyguards or something stationed here," Mercury said at one point as they congregated in the sitting room Thrive had installed to entertain diplomatic guests.

Thrive stiffened at that. "It's a matter of time. Once our palace has been built, they'll likely assign a permanent security detail to us."

Sig, Guetry, and Mercury went quiet.

"Palace?" Guetry said. "You guys are getting a palace? Where?"

Warren and Thrive exchanged a glance. "We can't tell you," Warren said. "We can't tell anyone. It's supposed to be the most well-hidden location in the two galaxies. I don't even think we're allowed to know once we move in."

"Hey, we found ——— eventually," Guetry said from one of the sofas. "Not to spook you guys but anything can be found with enough time."

Thrive nodded, resting his elbows on his knees and watching Thoeala play with Mercury on the other side of the room. "That is true...however, the tactics we used to find the Blue Palace will be taken into account when constructing Leviathan. It will be impossible to track." He lifted his gaze to Warren. "For our safety."

step (Eternal)—

Minutes later the doors to the gate opened and a couple of heavily-armed guards marched through, escorting a mechanized wheelchair in which sat Guetry, chained at the wrists and completely zoned out. He still looked impeccably groomed but not in the usual Guetry way, wearing a normal overpowering t-shirt and skinny jeans. His face was a bit puffy as he'd gained a bit of weight, and dark circles encompassed his makeup-less, somewhat dulled eyes. Even though in its normal state the giant tattoo crawling up his right arm to his throat was dormant, now it seemed even more as if something had washed part of it away.

"Guetry," Warren said abruptly.

His head swiveled up and around to him as they all stopped for the guards to talk with DeCosta. He narrowed his eyes at him and Thrive, almost placing them, but not quite. "Too fancy for paparazzi and t-too foreign for my family…"

Thrive stepped forward and swiped a gentle hand over Guetry's hair, resting it on his forehead, holding out the other hand to placate the guards who moved to jump into action. "Settle…" he murmured to both parties.

miss (Meridian)—

The image shifted again, this time portraying Thrive hidden in shadow, a green glow taking up much of the shot and highlighting the lines of his face.

"Not too long after I'd awakened," Scot said. "At NodeSource headquarters."

Once more the image changed, and Warren's breath left him in a rush.

Efthim, during the rescue of the qrihk. Warren's face in profile, in the middle of speaking to someone, and Thrive standing at his shoulder, watching him. It had been a blink-and-miss-it moment of levity among their evacuation team. While he remembered the instant of cracking a joke to make the others laugh as their assignment had weighed down on everyone, he had no idea Thrive was watching him with such...softness.

He was smiling. Subtle, but definite. His eyes were focused not on his surroundings, not on potential escape or incoming harm, but on Warren. And there didn't appear to be anything strong enough to break that focus in that long-gone yet immortalized snap of time.

"Send me that one," he whispered.

Scot patted his knee under the table. "Already done."

scramble (Aurora)—

Dazia burst onto the bridge and immediately swore. "Thank fucking god. Okay, let's get the hell out of here."

Warren scrambled to the viewscreen as everyone else began to pour into the room, relieved at him and Guetry being in one piece. "What happened?!"

"We don't know!" Emnophene exclaimed. "You were there one minute, then a huge sinkhole opened up and we thought you and Guetry had died!"

Mercury surged forward and gathered Guetry in a desperate, tight embrace, planting a solid, lengthy kiss to his mouth that surprised even Warren, who'd accidentally turned at that exact moment. Guetry's wide eyes spoke volumes.

"I was leavin' you behind," Mercury breathed through clenched teeth, voice quaking as he gripped Guetry's stunned face in his hands and pressed several more kisses to him. "I had to leave you behind, you stupid man…"

Sig's voice came in through the comm. "Are we still detonating or not?"

Warren snapped out of his thoughts. "Yes. Yes! ——— can handle it—we need to get out of here, 'cause we sure as shit can't!"

[meglyfer]

I just saw some very upsetting shit and I gotta talk about it

(Vent) (Kinda long because I'm complaining about like three different things at once)

You guys don't get to talk about history of my country if you have absolutely no idea about it The dictatorship of 1976 was something led by POLITICAL IDIOLOGY, NOT RACE. BOTH THE SOLDIERS doing atrocities AND THE VICTIMS of said atrocities were white, black, morenos, any colour in between I'm forgetting, and it takes LESS THAN TEN MINUTES of Google search to know this. Not only you can check what were the reasons behind the coup, but also, if you look up for pictures of the victims, you'll see how a lot of them were WHITE (This is because the most affected province was Buenos Aires, province which also recieved the most amount of Europeans immigrants) Don't you ever again dare talk about Argentinian history without doing even the most minimal research about it. I don't want you to speak the name of my country when you have clearly NO IDEA what you're talking about

Also, while I'm at it, would you guys quit it with the "Argentina is a n4zi paradise" crap? We are literally the third country with the biggest Jewish population "bUt, BuT, wHaT aBoUt PeRóN fOrGiVinG n4zI sOlDiErS" PERÓN WAS JUST ONE MAN WHO DIED 50 YEARS AGO HE DOES NOT SPEAK FOR ALL OF US, AND EVEN IF HE DID, IT'S BEEN 52 YEARS SINCE HE'S BEEN PRESIDENT, I AM PRETTY SURE THE POPULATION WOULD HAVE CHANGED ITS MIND IN ALL THAT TIME "bUt PeOpLe vOtEd fOr HiM" AND SAID PEOPLE REALISED HE WAS A N4ZI AFTER HE BECAME PRESIDENT, DUMBASS

IF YOU GUYS WANNA HATE ON ARGENTINIANS SO BADLY, THEN EITHER FIND A GOOD REASON FOR IT, OR JUST DO IT, BUT DON'T MAKE UP SHITTY EXCUSES TO JUSTIFY YOUR HATE WHEN YOUR STUPID ARGUMENTS CAN BE DEBUNKED IN LESS THAN A MINUTE, AND THE ONLY THING YOU'RE DOING IS HURTING THE IMAGE OF US TO EVERYONE ELSE'S EYES I SURE AS HELL DON'T LIKE BEING CALLED A N4ZI FOR WHAT A MAN, THAT I DON'T EVEN AGREE WITH, AND DIED EVEN BEFORE MY MOM WAS BORN, DID SAID OR THINK IN HIS TIME ALIVE AND I DO NOT LIKE BEING CALLED RACIST FOR FALSE INFORMATION ABOUT ONE OF MOST PAINFUL CHAPTERS OF MY COUNTRY'S HISTORY EITHER

OH, OH, AND ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT IT NO, YOU STUPID FUCK, JUST BECUASE WE ARE WHITE DOESN'T MEAN WE ARE GRINGOS, OR EUROPEAN, OR ANY SHIT LIKE THAT. WE ARE STILL LATINOS DESPITE OUR SKIN TONE, BECAUSE, GUESS WHAT, YOUR SKIN TONE DOESN'T DEFINE WHETHER IF YOU ARE LATINO OR NOT I KNOW, SOMETHING COMPLETELY MINDBLOWING FOR YOUR INSIGNIFICANT BRAIN AMERICANS APPARENTLY HAVE I was born, raised and lived my whole life in Argentina, a lationamerican country. My parents, grandparents and grandgrandparents were too. We face the same struggles as other latinoamerican countries, like poverty, corruption, insecurity, and a million other things. We share part of out history and culture with them, while also having our own. Not to mention that we meet the most important requirement to be part of LATAM, which is the geografical location of the country I am so fucking tired of brain dead people saying that we Argentinians are not latinos because we are white. I am so sorry for not having the exact same skin tone that you expect from your stereotypical Mexican character in Hollywood movies who is there to make fun of Mexican people, but just because I don't match your biased expectations it doesn't mean that I am less latino than someone from Perú, for example (Mando amor a toda la banda peruana, los quiero 😘) I thought we had made it clear that LATAM is a place with very diverse culture and people. We have people of all shapes and colours, metaphorically and literally speaking, why are you surprised some of us are white??? Not to mention that the vision of "All Argentinians are white" comes from just viewing BUENOS AIRES. CLEARLY YOU HAVEN'T MET A SINGLE PERSON THAT ISN'T FROM CAPITAL FEDERAL, THERE ARE WAY MORE PEOPLE OF COLOUR ONCE YOU LEAVE THAT PLACE

Summary: I fucking hate people who talk shit about my country and people when they barely even know how our flag looks like 😋

VIVA ARGENTINA CARAJO 💥💥💥 LPM, NO PUEDO PONER EL EMOJI DE LA BANDERA ARGENTINA EN LA COMPU YA FUE, LE MANDO UNA IMAGEN ENTERA

[deppressed-unicorn]

And So It Begins ... Again

This was the final fight. The fire singed Vecna’s flesh but he remained indifferent. out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Nancy raise her shotgun… and drop it. Steve whipped around to face her, he prayed to every God he could think of. Nancy's eyes were stark white Steve could do nothing to help as her body raised off the floor why God couldn't he do anything? her bones began to snap he couldn't take it he screamed as loud as he could until his lungs burned and his legs Shook and threatened to collapse.

He screamed until the air around him turned into something else. Steve shot up in bed his bed in his room, something was wrong his eyes flitted around the room his posters his decorations were different. He dashed down the stairs across the house into the kitchen. the calendar, the date on the calendar is wrong November 3rd 1983, 3 days before Will Byers went missing. Ideas and thoughts raced across his mind, he could fix everything.

Hours passed in a flash Steve forgot to eat or even breathe, eventually, he formed a plan. Will, unfortunately, would have to go missing that was what sparked everything but this time he wouldn't stay for so long. Right now he had work to do.

"hey guys "Steve slid into a seat at the lunch table where Tommy and Carol sat "I've been doing some thinking" "That's not good" Tommy laughed "You're a bad friend" "What?" Tommy was gobsmacked "Excuse me?"Carol yelled Steve leaned back in his seat "You two are bad friends and I don't want to be friends anymore" "So that's it then?" she asked "Yeah that's it"

He got all the way into his car before he fully realized what he had done Tommy and Carol were bad friends, yes, but they were his friends, they had been friends since middle school and there was a kind of sentimentality that came with being friends for so long. It would be worth it once he had befriended Robin, and Nancy. Oh… Nancy she had died hadn’t she or rather she was going to die before all this happened. How did this happen by the way? Before he could think about it too hard everything came crashing down. Barb's death, Hopper's death, it was all his fault. Barb never would have died if he hadn't thrown that party. Hopper never would have died if he hadn't been stupid enough to think he could solve a mystery with someone who knew nothing about the upside down! Shit, Robin, he put her In Harm's Way it was his fault they got tortured by the Russians. He killed Barb, he killed Hopper, he hurt Robin and the most damaging thing of all he was responsible for Nancy's death. With that Steve shattered. Steve sobbed into his knees grief, anger, and guilt gnawing at his heart

Someone knocked on his car window. Steve did his best to stop crying, sniffed, and hurriedly dried his eyes with his shirt. He tried not to cry more when he looked up. It was Barb standing there her face twisted in concern, of course it was Barb, Nancy's best friend the first mistake He made that cost someone their life. Steve rolled down his window "Do you need something?" "Don't feel bad for ditching them!" "Who?" "Tommy and Carol there mean so you shouldn't feel bad for ditching them " "How did you know –" he began " Oops, my bad I heard you talking at lunch. Me and Nancy sit at the next table" she interrupted "Oh right Nancy" "They've been telling people that you're a terrible person for letting them again arrested for drunk driving." she smiled "here's the thing go, they didn't have to drive drunk it's not your fault for them getting in trouble for something you didn’t know would happen" he nodded "thanks, that means a lot to me " "Right so um if you ever need a place to sit you know during lunch me and Nancy always have a spot open for you!"

Steve plopped into his seat seconds before the bell rang and absentmindedly twirled his pen. The teacher began to speak "Hello everyone, I am assigning a new project today. You will be split into groups of 2 each group will choose a classic book to read and analyze the theme, metaphors any personification or simile and make a presentation explaining it. Groups will be Steve Harrington and Edward Munson – " oh that's right, he got out of this last time by going with Tommy instead, but now Tommy was not an option. Steve didn't spend much time with Eddie but Dustin liked him and Steve accepted Dustin's very odd friend. He looked over at the metal head and offered a friendly smile and a wave, he got in return a scowl and I will. ‘that's fair’ he thought ‘I shouldn't have expected him to like me immediately or even tolerate me I was always a dick before… I guess I still am a dick’

After class, he caught up with Eddie in the Halls "hey, Eddie about the project –" "let me guess you're ditching me for Lord Tommy isn't that right" "what? No, I –" "Listen man no hard feelings. I get it you don't want to be seen with the freak Munson you'd rather work with your best friend than me right" "Munson – "he tried again "no no it's all right you don't need to explain yourself to me –" Steve cut him off "Tommy and I aren't friends anymore" he blurted "not any more so like it or not we're working together" Eddie looks stunned eyes wide mouth a gape "what," Steve demanded "Nothing, I just never thought I'd see the Day" "what do you mean?" "Well, your best friends you're almost always together. I thought you'd always be friends you know?" They paused and the silence grew between them like a chasm "yeah well not anymore" he snapped "Hey man I'm sorry" Eddie reached out to touch his shoulder but Steve Shrugged him off "Don't be sorry I didn't want to be friends anymore" he looked up into Eddie's eyes they were dark deep brown almost black and Steve could feel them pulling him in "I'm sorry for snapping at you that wasn't cool " "It's alright man. What were you saying about the project?"

The next day Steve kept an eye out for Robin and he spotted her in fourth. He made an effort to notice what she was doing unsurprisingly the only thing she did was draw in her notebook sneaking glances at Tammy Thompson when she thought no one was looking but holy hell could she draw he noticed it before, of course, she doodled on everything but this was different she was drawing Tammy and it was incredibly fascinating to watch a face form from just a Circle and some limes he approached her at her locker "hey I saw you drawing during class it looks really good" "What?" "you were drawing Tammy Thompson, right? She looks really pretty" quotation marks I don't think Tammy looks pretty W-what why would you say that? "she stammered Shit. Shit he made her uncomfortable how is he going to fix this Shit think "I didn't mean it like that I meant you're drawing of her was really pretty" "0-0h right of course thank you" "I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with me?" "What?" "don't worry I'll pay" "Are you asking me out on a date?" Shit. fuck how is he going to fix this one? "oh no no no no no. God no don't worry" ”Oh thank God" she let out a relieved sigh "so how bout it?" "Sure, but only if you keep complimenting my art skills" "will do" Steve attempted to back away and immediately bumped into someone she gave Robin a shy smile and a thumbs-up as he walked away

When he woke up the next morning and brushed his teeth all he could think was "you can still save him" it was all he could think of as he got dressed, packed a lunch and drove to school. He sat next to Robin paid for her lunch and invited her to sit with him Nancy and Barb, after lunch he talked with Eddie about the project and for one brutal minute saw Jonathan Byers in the hall he quickly looked away guilt rising in his throat. He felt that way for the rest of the day time passing in a blur. As he pulled into his driveway a small nagging voice in his skull told him “it's not too late you can save him if you don't it'll be your fault” Steve stamped the voice down till it was barely a murmur and set about making preparations. Step one he'd gotten his original nail bat from Nancy but he couldn't wait for her to make it he would have to make his own secondly he couldn't let someone's kid go missing and not help the family. He would have to cook something and thanks to his grandma's cookbooks (written in original French) Steve was an excellent cook. Thirdly he needed to help the kids find El or at least find out about her she liked Eggo waffles right? Maybe he could buy some for her? Steve got to work making the nail bat which took about an hour making some mushroom and pork stew to about one-and-a-half and when he was done he put it in some Tupperware to keep. When Steve opened his fridge he noticed it was about empty so he went to the store and got groceries and a lot of desserts and snacky things (for El). The rest of the night passed agonisingly slow guilt turned his stomach and he couldn't sleep finally he gave in downed some NyQuil settled back down and turn on some music.

Steve woke up early and all he could think about was Will, Jonathan, and Joyce how Will was stuck in the upside-down and Jonathan and Mrs. buyers were out of their minds worried. How he caused this it was his fault. Eventually, he dragged himself out of bed and went to school. Steve walked the halls in a trance listening to people's conversations surprisingly most of the focus was on Tommy and Carol’s fall from grace people speaking in hushed tones were talking about them “did you hear” they said "Steve Harrington and "Tommy Hagan" one would hiss to another "Tommy? what happened" they'd respond voices dripping with grim delight " They aren't friends anymore, so sad" and they would find joy in such an 'exciting' piece of gossip. Snakes the lot of them telling other peoples business to anyone that would listen. In class the teacher droned on his words blurring into a meaningless hum that Steve frankly couldn't care less about, his thoughts slowed to a crawl the world around him speeding up and turning muffled like it was underwater. The bell jolted him out of his thoughts the other students crowded around the door as Steve started to gather his things "hey Steve" he jumped "Jesus Buckley you scared the shit out of me" "sorry listen are you okay?" "yeah I'm fine why?" you seems really out of it your eyes glazed over and everything " he carelessly shoved his books in his backpack "I'm fine Robin you don't have to worry. Lunch?" "hey I've been meaning to ask how did you make friends with Nancy?" "same way I made friends with you I guess" they walked out the door and down to the cafeteria "complimenting their art skills?" "making an effort" "that's dumb" "a really how do you make phone? Huh?" Robin went quiet for a moment "I don't really have any friends except for you guys" "Geez Robin I'm sorry I didn't mean to you no be mean" "it's alright" Robin seems to have pulled Steve out of his stupor, she sat down and started cracking jokes with his friends that's what they were right? His friends? They were very nice friend he like them much more than Tommy and Carol.

[anika-ann]

Walk Me Home Tonight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, songfic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 4700

Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to be in a celebratory mood when all you can think of is that life sucks and that being left on your own to drown your sorrows is for the best.

Sometimes people who care about you know better than yourself and come crashing your party of one.

Sometimes, despite the popular belief, you do realize how lucky you are having been introduced to Steve Rogers.

Warnings: mention of blood and violence and death, mention of alcohol, angst, fluff and language

A/N: P!nk’s Walk Me Home just does something to me, alright? Music video included - it’s soooo beautiful.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

You stared at the amber liquid, lazily making it roll in the glass with idle motions of your wrist. It reflected the rather soft lights of the bar, an exquisite game of colour you found fascinating enough to dull your mind and muffle the noise of the party.

It wasn’t that you were a party pooper, not usually anyway; just… the timing wasn’t ideal.

Of course, Sharon could hardly move her birthday to make it more convenient for you, less so a party her colleagues had decided to throw for her. You knew Agent Carter for quite some time now; she had joined SHIELD about the same time as you, going through the same tough training. Except unlike you – and initially without your knowledge – she had an image to live up to.

You might even call her a friend, your chest bursting in pride for her when her hard work had finally borne some fruit and she had been promoted to an assistant director of the intelligence agency. Among other things, it earned her a lot of new potential friends.

You were hardly acting like one tonight, much to your own annoyance. But for some reason, you found it difficult to leave your momentary emotional baggage at the doorstep, slipping it off as easily as your coat. You had wished her all the best, conversed for a tiny bit and then happily made space for others, for the forming line of guests waiting to celebrate with her as well.

Then you retreated to your spot at the bar, possibly annoying the bartender, who would have been more delighted seeing some heavier drinker occupying your seat, tipping generously, instead of having you nursing each glass of alcohol for about two hours.

You weren’t even sure why you were still here; you had given up on the attempt on small talk with anyone, apparently unwittingly chasing away any potential company. And here you thought misery did love company – perhaps you were wrong, at least when it came to birthday parties of gorgeous women loved by everyone. You might as well pack up your bottom and sulk at home.

You were stubbornly shushing the voice in the back of your skull, whispering about knowing precisely why you remained in your seat; about feeling less alone here, despite being a literal loner in a crowd.

You downed the rest of the bitter scotch, basking in the burn which it left on its way down your throat, your eyelids slipping shut in content, the noise in your brain falling silent completely for few blissful moments.

“Party of one?” a male voice gently asked, the tinniest note of teasing in it and while your heart skipped a startled beat at being addressed, you felt the burn in your throat slip lower, warming your chest and causing the corners of your mouth turn up just a fraction.

 There's something in the way you roll your eyes Takes me back to a better time When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

 “Felt like crashing it?” you hummed in response, side-eyeing the intruder and found a pair of cerulean eyes staring back. He blindly waved off the eager bartender who was about to offer him a drink.

Ah, poor guy. No tips for him tonight.

“Well, I didn’t get an invitation. Looks like crashing was my only option.”

You sighed tiredly despite Steve’s kind teasing. Tonight was just… so exhausting. Tonight. Today. This week. Gah, this whole month. This fucking year--- okay, maybe you were exaggerating, because you were simply crossing the line, moving from relaxed buzzed drunk to a miserable one.

Battling with yourself, arguing whether you should send him to hell – nicely, because Steve was nothing but kind, he was always so kind, goddammit, gentle humour spiced with the ability to become an utter troll, still benign though, that was why you usually enjoyed his company so much after all-… – or call it a night.

Or should you order another drink? Was there a point? You might cross the line to a clingy drunk eventually and you weren’t certain that was a good idea.

It was probably about as good of an idea as coming to a party despite feeling like shit on an emotional roller-coaster, dangerously inclining towards a very bad mood to put it mildly.

You tilted your head to side as you looked at Steve properly, tight blue shirt flattering his supersoldier frame, black pants with desperately needed leather belt considering his thin waist, his blonde hair a mess, gaze fixed on you, observing. Always observing to read people, to anticipate behaviour, evaluate the threat; sometimes simply to be considerate, to… to be compassionate.

Dammit, Steve.

“Must have got lost in the mail then,” you said eventually, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he shrugged it off, the curve of his lips more distinct than yours. As if he was offering to cheer you up. Sweet, but possibly vain effort tonight. Sometimes, things simply piled up and there was no escape. Such was the fate of a government agent. And human, for that matter. “Doesn’t look like much fun and I think it’s about to end anyway.”

“I guess…”

 Tryna stand up on my own two feet This conversation ain't comin' easily And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

 This time, Steve actually made an eye contact with the bartender, who eagerly rushed to him at instant. His excited expression fell when he noticed you were pulling out your wallet to close your tab. You didn’t have the strength to shoot him an apologetic smile.

Steve’s eyes were on you the whole time, you could feel them, and you wondered why. Until he spoke again, as soon as the other man left.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,�� he offered gentlemanly, coaxing you into saying yes, possibly unaware of the effect which such tone had on people.

Or perhaps he knew, using exactly that when he was trying to talk someone down, to calm them, gain their trust. The joke was on him, because it was a vain effort; you trusted him fully already. Surely, he knew that.

Right?

Trust was the solid base the team of Avengers needed and since you somehow found yourself with them, it involved you too. The team stood and fell on trust and mutual respect. But it meant so much more – they were friends. They cared about each other, about their well-being.

Right now, Steve was being a good friend and a good teammate.

And you were being exactly that too when you turned his kind proposition down.

“No, it’s fine. There are still some people who are actually able to speak coherently with you. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out, as if admonishing you for not noticing. Your eyebrow rose deliberately.

“…and?”

“And I’d feel better if you weren’t walking the streets alone,” he replied easily, ignoring the hint of snark in your comeback as you made your way to the coat-stand.

Still walking on the line of miserable and pleasantly buzzed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean to him for such patronizing approach. He had been raised this way and despite his open mind and admirable respect to women, he slipped sometimes.

“Steve, I’m a SHIELD agent basically turned Avenger. I can take care of my-“

“But you don’t have to. And-” He gestured subtly back towards the bar and a metaphorical lightbulb flickered above your head.

Not patronizing then, god forbid chauvinist; Peggy Carter would rise from the death to beat him with his own shield, with Natasha’s enthusiastic help, if he was showing any sign of aforementioned qualities and he was well-aware of that.

Just mother-henning then, the way Steve excelled at.

It brought the first honest smile of the night to your lips. You made sure to face him so he could see how wholesome his company was for you.

“I’m not too drunk, Steve. I had like two glasses of scotch,” you assured him, gently brushing his forearm before reaching for your coat and scarf. “And two beers.”

“I know,” he stated, stealing your coat only to hold it out for you to slip into it.

God, the woman who would once win his heart was about to be one lucky bitch.

Jim has never done this for me, flashed through your mind and you instantly shushed the whining voice in your head. Instead, you went over what he just said, blinking in surprise.

Huh? He… knew?

“I… might have kept an eye on you,” he admitted tentatively, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating and letting you to cocoon in the fabric.

“Why?”

Why would he keep an eye on you? Sure, teammates and friends and all that, but for some reason, you doubted he kept an eye on Tony, the only other Avenger (beside Steve, not Steve and you, you don’t count, a voice hissed in your mind and you winced) who attended the party, not being on any mission at the moment.

Why did Steve feel like you needed a chaperone?

No, that was too harsh of a word for him, you were certain his intentions were everything but malicious, but… why?

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

 The genuine wonder must have been audible in your voice, much like your shock must have been clear in your expression, because Steve seemed sheepish all of sudden, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I mean, I know that you probably wouldn’t-“ he started, only to grimace. “It’s not that I think you’re an alcoholic! It’s just that... you--- and it’s only been-…“

-four days since you got dumped, you finished the unspoken sentence and tried your best to ignore the cold seeping into your bones at the reminder.

One of the reasons why you had been in a sour mood and deciding to drink alone. Your amazing asshole of a boyfriend had dumped you, metaphorically kicking you while you had already been down. Lovely.

“-I was worried. But you didn’t look like you were interested in having company, I didn’t want to be a bother and-“

You pulled Steve out of his misery by placing a hand over his forearm, which stopped the words spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

He was actually being very sweet and thoughtful. It kinda made you feel bad, because… you weren’t looking for dragging someone down with you. As it was, he had his own reasons to not be happy about partying tonight, but feeling like he had to keep an eye on you probably didn’t help to lift his spirits.

“-and you had to spend some time with the woman of the hour,” you finished instead of him slowly, hoping you sounded at least half as thoughtful as he did and that you didn’t appear to be the greatest bitch, stealing attention from Sharon. “That’s understandable, Steve. It is her birthday party and I’m the one being antisocial.”

You bit down your lip, lowering your gaze, because the infamous worried wrinkle appeared on Steve’s forehead and you just knew he was about to protest and you… honestly felt bad about your behaviour and the welcoming colour of his eyes was not helping to make you feel any better, because of course he probably thought it was perfectly normal to look out for you instead of allowing himself to enjoy the night and- ugh.

“You… you shouldn’t have to look out for me. Your attention could have been fully on the birthday girl.”

Naturally, Steve Rogers basically shrugged it off. Covering your hand on him with his large palm, he slouched to look into your eyes once more. Insistent bastard, no doubt aware of your inability to say no to his amiable face.

“That’s what friends are for. Now, can I walk you home?”

You shook your head with a sad smile, rising your gaze towards the ceiling, hoping it came out as an exasperation at his stubbornness and not as it truly was – you in fact attempting to keep your tears at bay, because, miserable drunk, dumped four days ago apart from other things and there he was, asshole perfect, Steve fucking Rogers, gentleman and friend extraordinaire, caring for your well-being more than Jim ever had.

A twinkle appeared in his eye when he recognized he won and you chuckled, sealing his victory out loud.

“Yes, Steve. You can walk me home. It’s conveniently located on the way to yours.”

He smirked when he shrugged on his own coat. “Happy coincidences…”

 There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

 Once you left the bar, silence fell on you, feeling heavy as did the cold November air.

Heavy and awkward. While you could tell with certainty you were barely affected by the alcohol you had drunk, your steps were wobbly, knees shaky as if you were a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time.

Steve walked by your side, majestic in his thigh-length coat, hands snugged in its pockets only halfway as if he was waiting for you needing his support. It irritated you as much as it warmed your heart.

On top of everything, you would swear every lone person you met stared at you, staring you up and down until they seemed to register Steve’s imposing frame and quickly went back to their business. It annoyed you to no end; it was just proving Steve’s point that you shouldn’t walk the streets alone at such hour, government agent or not.

“I would have been fine, you know,” you hummed, cautiously breaking the relative quiet.

It was never truly quiet in New York City, only rush hours alternating with calmer ones. You didn’t mind it; you enjoyed the city. Sometimes quiet meant that thoughts won the opportunity to become too loud; tonight, for some reason, despite the silence, Steve prevented that ever since he joined you.

It dawned to you then, how ungrateful you sounded and you quickly added “But thanks.” –  a whisper full of honesty.

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the silence weighted so much because your mood wasn’t the only cause of it.

Steve was showing you that he worried; surely, you could as well? Because you did, worry about him that was.

“…are you? Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked distractedly, but you could hear the frown on his face, the image of his nose scrunched in confusion painted in front of your eyes even without looking at him.

“Just… today-” you nudged him once more and vaguely eyed your watch only to be reminded that ‘today’ was a confusing term. “Or, more like, yesterday…”

A sharp inhale was drawn at your side and you could sense as he started closing off, putting up his walls so no one would catch a scent of his weakness. You hated when he tried to do that. You would have thought you were past that. You liked to consider you two friends at least.

Tonight was simply not your night. Of either of you, apparently.

“What about it-?“

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Were you truly such a crappy company, an insensitive friend or was there something sorrowful and cranky in the air, preventing your communication channels from tuning to the same frequency?

You were aware what the day meant for him – another painful reminder of what he had lost with crashing the plane in the forties only to wake up in a new millennium.

Though this particular loss – of his mother – haunted him even back in what some people called his days. It was an utter non-sense. Steve belonged there as much as he belonged here. He was brave enough to try and stubborn enough to succeed in fitting in.

“Nothing, I guess,” you sighed once more, this time rolling your eyes. “…Mr. Nothing Can Touch Me.”

The wry nickname hung in the air for a while, the faint noise of the night city washing over your pair. When Steve broke it again, there was a barely audible crack in his voice.

“I… I’m okay. I think. I… should be. It’s been so long. Decades,” he mused, turning his gaze to the sky. His eyes glistened and if you didn’t know him, hadn’t witnessed his walls lowering before, you would have thought it was just the streetlights reflecting.

You knew better. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his, not remembering when his hands had left his pockets. You were grateful for it now, especially when he didn’t retrieve from your touch instantly.

“Not for you,” you pointed out quietly, rewarded by the softest squeeze of his warm hand.

The heaviness and tension you had felt before resolved with the gesture. Something finally fell into place and you were almost you again and he was almost him.

Two figures, carrying their griefcases, but functioning and… harmonizing once more.

“How did you know?”

“That’s what friends are for, Steve,” you echoed his earlier words, sending a tiny smile his way, meeting his glassy gaze. “They remember important dates, good or bad.”

“No one else did. Not that I can actually hold it against Buck, of course... but no one… you…” his voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought – or perhaps he had never truly directed it to the station in the first place.

Your shoulders moved a fraction, a hint of a shrug-off. His hand wrapped around yours tighter in silent appreciation, not showing any sign of intending to let go.

And you were alright with that. More than alright.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

His presence was always immense, overwhelming even; yet so comfortable you didn’t have the slightest problem with opening your heart to him, offering it to him even when it was bleeding. And now, finally tuned together, it was no different.

You bared your heart to him, even if it hurt.

“She didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice pained in the dead of the night and he didn’t react, letting you to gather strength to elaborate. You cleared your throat as the lump grew in it.  “Kayla, one of the kids… from last week’s mission. I found out yesterday… she-she didn’t make it, she had too many injuries. Word is that perhaps it was even a blessing. A relief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve repented, his grip growing stronger just a fraction, enough to make your chest and eyes burn.

“Yeah, so am I.”

Whatever he heard in your voice, it caused his fingers twitch in your hand, his footsteps slowing down. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Wasn’t it? If I was faster, if I-“

Steve stopped in his tracks completely, pulling at your hand to make you do the same and face him.

You closed your eyes when his blue ones met them, unable to stand the urgency in them. His free hand curled around your shoulder, caressing in attempt at comfort.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Hypocrite, you threw back at him in your mind, stubbornly keeping your eyelids shut, simply knowing that if you saw the sincerity in his gaze in addition to the fervour he spoke with, you might actually believe him. “You did your best. I know that, Nat and Buck know, everyone does. A monster you helped to put behind bars hurt the kids. Not you. You saved so many lives.”

You shook your head with a sigh, staring straight ahead as you turned on your heels and continued your path. Steve, never letting go of your hand, followed reluctantly.

“Sometimes I think he might have been right, you know?”

Peripherally, you saw him frown again and you cursed yourself for drinking – it untangled your tongue and his stupid face made your spill your guts to him, vomit emotion. You weren’t too secretive about your feelings most of the time, but damn, you hated how alcohol pushed your boundaries of sharing them.

“… Jim. He said that maybe I should give it up. That I’m just running alongside you, heroes, pretending to be one of you, but in the end, I’m not even close to being as good-“

Steve’s feet took roots in the ground, his steely grip forcing you to stop – as long as you wanted to keep your hand attached, which yeah, you kinda did.

“I feel like taking a detour now,” he muttered darkly and for a short moment, confusion was everything you felt, blissfully overtaking the anger, the sorrow, the helplessness and the feeling of utter uselessness.

“Huh?”

“Where does Jim live?” Steve spitted out the name venomously and you couldn’t help the wave of affection washing over you. Affection towards this treasure of a man who apparently wanted to punch another human being because it offended his friend. “He has no business saying something like that. Especially if his bullshit actually affects you-”

“Steve, he wasn’t wrong, I’m just-“ you sputtered, caught off guard when you registered the fire in his glare.

“We all make mistakes. But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t even make any that day. I read the report, and I know you, you put everything you got and more into the rescue mission. How can he-“ he hissed, literally taking a calming breath as both of his hands balled into fist.

Well, one of them only nearly, since it was still holding yours. It actually stung a bit, the bones in your hand close to grinding against each other.

“-I haven’t met him many times, but if he said that instead of comforting you after an incredibly draining mission, then I’m glad that that asshole is gone from your life. … though I would still appreciate his address.”

Blinking away the few stray tears that welled up, you forced a smile as Steve’s strict glare found yours. It felt good, seeing his indignation; having someone else exasperated on how Jim had reacted. He should have given you a hug and hold you tight; that was what you would wish for. Instead, he told you to stop complaining and when you accused him of not supporting you, he called you a whiny bitch who should make up her damn mind and broke things off.

You deeply appreciated Steve’s display of chivalry, hell, you half-considered giving away the address just so Jim would hear someone else agreeing with you, but you were honestly just tired. And you had a feeling Steve wouldn’t stay only at words and seeing any more blood, any more aggression would have been too much for you tonight.

Tonight, you… you needed serenity and comfort.

“…thank you. That… that means a lot. But… maybe just walk me home? Please? Could you walk me home, Steve?” you pleaded softly, barely audible, not caring it sounded like weeping of a needy child.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the last thing you resembled in Steve’s eyes. Your imploring gaze, vulnerable and open, it moved something inside him, his anger silenced for the moment, leaving him defenceless, unable to say no. Not that he had an intention to do so. He always had trouble saying no to you.

So he forced his fists to relax, running his thumb over the back of your hand and whispered the only word that made sense.

“Always.”

You settled back to the comfortable silence after that.

 Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

 You reached the Tower hand in hand.

Neither of you released the other. Not during the elevator ride, not when you walked the halls lined with doors leading to each’s private quarters.

You were still holding onto each other when you came to a stop in front of your door; rest assured, Steve Rogers would lead you right to your door even if his was only at the end of the very same corridor.

Standing nearly chest to chest, his eyes bored into yours with seriousness that surprised you.

“For the record, you do a great deal of good,” he reassured you, saying it as if he truly meant it. It tugged at your heart, sweet and bitter. “You’re amazing and you’re the most authentic of all of us. I admire you.”

That claim caused you to chuckle. Now he was laying it on a bit thick, downright exaggerating.

“You admire me? Steve, that’s really nice of you to say, but don’t be ridi-“

Your words died in your throat when his large palm splayed over your cheek, cradling it gently. When the paddle of his thumb swiped over your other cheek, soft smile playing on his lips, his irises bright with a promise, time seemingly stopped along with your heart.

“And you’re a great friend to the whole team, a wonderful person. Do me a favour and finally learn to accept a compliment,” he asked of you in hushed voice, the electric blue and green of his eyes locking you in. “If he didn’t praise you enough for you to get used to it, he was doing something wrong.”

You gulped, a silly association with the word ‘praise’ allowing you to break from the cage of his gaze that had previously had your mind gone blank.

“I’m not a dog to be praised, Steve…”

One corner of his lips – and when did they got so close anyway? – twitched. And then a tender kiss landed on your forehead, just the softest brush of lips against your skin. The gesture, utterly incomprehensible for you, had your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m very much aware. Believe me, doll, I know. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

You only nodded at the ridiculous statement – why was he thanking you? – too perplexed at the fact his lips had made contact with your skin. When did you cross the line towards the delusional drunk?

His fingertips caressed your face as he let go, wishing you to have a good night. Too baffled, you were unable to respond until he had already made his way to his door and you suddenly missed the warmth of his presence.

Breaking free from your haze, you acted on impulse, apparently startling him when you called his name out of blue so urgently.

“Steve!”

Whipping his head around to look at you, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Uh… are you ready to go to bed or… or maybe… would you like to watch a movie or something?” With me?

I don’t think I’m ready to be alone. Ready to be without you.

Even from the distance, you would swear you saw his lips spread in a slow honey-sweet smile.

“I think I’d like that,” he called out lowly. “Ten minutes? I’ll get the blankets. You pick the movie.”

“See you in ten then.”

You pretended that your heart didn’t flutter, sending a wave of familiar tingle through your chest and to your fingers, as you slipped inside your room with your mouth curled up in a content smile.

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

*✧･ Bonus *✧･

If Tony found them two and half hour later, closing credits rolling, the pair curled up and cuddling on the couch, you fast asleep in Steve’s arms, and he noticed that the supersoldier was in fact only faking to avoid an interrogation from the Ironman himself, he didn’t mention it. He just whispered to FRIDAY to turn off the TV and turn off the dimmed lights completely.

He hoped Rogers would treat you the way you deserved, unlike the man who now had farts announcing a received e-mail or texts, unable to change it, and a laptop turning on randomly, dead-pale children staring at him from the screen with hollow eyes and in clothes dripping water. Tony would hate to have to hack more tech again just to avenge your broken heart without your knowledge any time soon.

He’d rather suffer watching the two of his friends being disgustingly sweet on each other.

Probably.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

S.R. masterlist

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

Silent thanks to the person who came up with the word ‘griefcase’ as an alternative to emotional baggage.

Also, I’m pretty sure songfics aren’t supposed to be so long... oops?

Thank you for reading!

[maculatas]

CHAPTER 3: blight ; \ ˈblīt / : a thing that spoils or damages something.

Frank doesn’t remember much else that happened that night. It was that fleeting rage and then the immediate action to do something that held no rational thought. An impulsive move led to someone dying. He remembers how it felt when the blade connected to the man’s back, a high pitch ringing in his ear. Maybe it was Julie’s screaming or the man’s. Frank shut his eyes and all he can see is black. 

The red spilling from his hands, his hooded face, the single eye from the shadows exposing his widened, thrilled look. This awoke a feeling in him. It was this feeling of an odd, indescribable sense of calm that washes over him. It was all of his years of rage, displacement, and emotional instability blooming in this moment. 

His group’s faces were all in distress. Joey had yelled at him. “Frank! Dude–! What did you do?” Frank felt entirely lost. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. His friend’s faces had blurred together. Susie was crying. Julie had her mouth covered in horror. He had to act fast. 

He had to. 

Frank led himself down a rabbit hole. He made them feel guilty that if they don’t all finish him, this man will suffer a fate worse than just a single stab. 

The groans coming from this man were nauseating. Frank felt his mind buzzing like tv static. It was all a mess. It was all a big, bloody fucking mess. 

Frank had to do everything. He had to bark out the orders. Frank had to force their hands. It was Frank, who was the king, leading his pawns on the defensive. All the while, this man who was like them was dying. Frank had never felt so terrified and divine all at once. Here he was, holding this man’s metaphorical heart in his bare hands. The decision was ultimately to kill him, to hide his body and then to never speak about it again. 

So the realization that Frank would have to return to Mount Ormond made it all the wilder. 

That stimulation of the kill, of feeling like the boss in a mafia, never once faded for Frank. 

He spent the entire time thinking about the sensations. The way everything felt so overstimulating, but it all fell into the correct place. For him, it was a rebirth; it was an awakening into feeling godly. 

Here was this young adult carrying life and death with equal measure into both palms. He was the judge, jury, and executioner. It was retribution for all the shit he had to face. 

He found his calling. 

When he arrives at the old ski resort, he inhales the sharp air of winter. The wind chill wrapped itself around his body. It was like home. 

He could make out the familiar shapes of his old friends inside, their shadows sort of stilling around, and the smoke drifting through the cracks of the wooden building. He really didn’t want to see them. But at some point, they were all going to ‌talk. 

They never came back to fix this place up like they were supposed to. That was an old promise they had made. 

Finally, he makes his way into the rickety building. The desolate areas of the resort seemed to hold a certain aura of mystery. It looked the same as he had left it. 

The last time they were there, they were slightly tipsy and emotions had slipped over. He thinks of the man still buried out there in the snow. No one had found him. There were no missing fliers, nothing made for the body for people to look for him. 

The man was a stranger with no family. Nothing. 

Just like Frank. 

If he were to die, would anyone else possibly care? Clive wouldn’t even notice. He never did. The only thing he did right was give Frank somewhere to stay. 

He thinks of his friends. Each one would probably feel free once he’s dead. He’s probably ruined every bit of freedom they had. Every sense of safety they had left was damned to hell because of his poor choices and them being with him by association. 

No wonder they held a resentment towards him after the situation. 

They all wanted to do things with their lives; except for Frank. Frank wanted to brood. Frank wanted to remain stagnant. 

All the faces that took care of him came flickering through like an old movie camera in his brain. These people didn’t love him. They didn’t care. They wanted the government cut on doing the one good thing people should do with lost teens. 

And instead, they spend it all on their own fucking selfish reasons. 

Then your face comes up in the final film reel. It’s you he sees. You, who have waited for him, who have held an interest in him and have stuck by him for months. He’s a fucking dick to you, and you stay. 

His chest feels warm, and in his stomach there’s a pit. 

What is there to it? You make it too easy. 

You’re just the easiest sort of woman he could have found. His favorite. His— what? It’s not like he’s in love with you, but he holds you close for many reasons. 

Soon enough, though, you’ll know. 

“What the hell are you doing back here, Frank?” Julie asks. Her blue eyes seem to blaze at the sight of him. Susie seems to hide in the back, and Joey’s crossed his arms in front of him as if tense. They all look on the defensive. 

“I’m here to talk is all,” Frank tells them, his arms up to show he’s not a threat. Never to them. He actually does like his friends most of the time. 

When they’re not treating him like he’s the only bad guy here. 

Julie frowns, looking behind him. “Where’s your pet?” 

Susie’s eyes flicker up. “The girl?” 

Frank spits off to the side. “You won’t be seeing her.” 

Julie snarls. “If she’s going to be another body count for your sick as hell games, we will not be a part of this.” 

“She won’t be,” Frank swears. 

Joey snorts in the back. “You’re full of shit man, you’ve got something planned.” 

Frank laughs dryly. “Well, whatever you all think, it’s none of your business, regardless.” 

“It is,” Julie steps in. “You’re a sick bastard. The way you treated us! You manipulated us. We fucking killed for you!” Her voice rises sharply. Julie, still beautiful, still sharp with all her edges. Frank misses her sometimes. He misses them. 

“We’re still friends, Julie.” 

“We’re not. We never were.” 

Frank feels a brief pang. He looks at all three of them. The way they look at him like he’s a stranger. When his friends didn’t even come in and check on him after everything. They had drifted apart. He didn’t want to acknowledge that. 

“So, whatever you have planned for that girl–you will not involve us, Frank,” Julie spits. She throws a bottle at his face, and it cracks against his cheek, but he doesn’t even flinch. She’s a little tipsy. Usually, when she is, she becomes a belligerent mess. 

Susie comes up to her, trying to soothe her, but Julie looks like she’s on a mission and stalks up to size Frank up. 

“You involve us or your little girlfriend in your fucking games. I’ll kill you myself.” 

His laugh is hoarse. “I’d like to see you try, Julie. You couldn’t.” 

Julie’s gaze is intense, her eyes carrying a promise in the depths. “If I don’t get to you first, that girl of yours will do it herself.” 

A warning, a future promise. It was everything Frank didn’t want to hear. He stomps out into the night, away from the resort, and into the cold. 

He feels his fingers flex. He wants to break something. 

His fingers ache against the chill, and beg to pick apart flesh. 

Frank returns to your house. This time, he comes through the side window with a warning. He texts you a simple: Hey. U up? Can I come in?

The thrill of letting him in combined with the anxious energy about it is enough to dissipate the nerves when you see his current state. 

He looks freezing, his cheeks red, his clothes sopping wet, and there’s a few cuts on his face. Where did he even go? 

You decide not to grill him, and just let him be for ‌when he browses around your room. He looks like a raven during spring time. Your room is all colors, vibrant and bright. Frank might as well be the antithesis. 

The events that led him here and him being able to find you as a safe space. You love to think that you're his anchor. You ground him, you hope; and that’s enough to make you giddy. So, to distract him from whatever is on his mind, you ask him about something else. It’s always been on your mind, this question. 

“Did it hurt?” You inquire. You walk up to him and trace the tattoo that’s across Frank’s neck. A skull with flames as its backdrop. You inspect it, wondering when and how he got it. He doesn’t move away from you, but you can feel his tension forming. He’s undecided of what to say, but he shifts. 

Frank exhales raggedly and you catch onto that. You peer up at him worriedly, but only smile. 

He swallows and shuts his eyes; as you continue to trace his tattoo. Your fingers glide against his skin smoothly. You want to press your lips there so tenderly and move them up to his chin. He’s electrifying, and he smells heady. 

“Not so much,” he responds finally, startling you out of your fantasy. His eyes still closed. He seems to want to sleep and you think to yourself that he's like a cat leaning into the warmth of the sun. 

“When did you get it?” You’re so fond of him. You think that love couldn’t be any better than this? Despite Frank’s oddball nature and how confusing he may seem, there are moments like these that make everything seem worth it somehow. Just being with him is enough. 

Frank cracks open a single eye, peering at you for an exceedingly long time before answering. “I was about sixteen. I was in a shithole down south of here before finally ending up at Ormond.” 

You tilt your head. “Shithole? What was wrong with it?” 

Frank suddenly moves away from you to stand over by your desk. Sometimes, he thinks, you ask the dumbest fucking questions. “It was fucking everything. It was all the people, even. The place; everything sucked ass.” Frank sucks in his teeth, pulling out a cigarette from one of his pockets. 

You don’t know when he was so short with you. His patience is fleeting at random times. You regret even asking anything at this point. Frank’s chaotic emotions have been bringing you through the wringer. Everything with him had been so incredibly complicated. He goes from the most loving, patient partner to a Mr. Hyde incarnate in the flesh. 

He casts a glance over at the look on your face. It’s your familiar frown, your pensive eyebrows. Frank adores seeing that on you. It’s hard because the way it happens is deplorable. Frank’s the cause of it. The reason your expression looks so beaten down and confused. How did it come to this? He thinks you must ask yourself. Where did I go wrong? He wants to laugh. 

It’s your fault. 

The way Frank sees it. He wants you to feel you're spiraling. That everything you could do right is wrong. The image reel pops into his head again. Who will care about you when you’re dead, Frank? 

You look at him then. His eyes seemed to have sharpened into knives. 

He makes a move to grab your face, his thumb and middle finger pushing your cheeks. “Listen, I’m not mad at you. Don’t make that face.” He’s back to the reassuring boyfriend. It’s always a new one with him. 

You move away from him, the stubborn prickling of your eyes. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You haven’t at all yet. But you don’t know how else to feel. It’s like nothing you can do is right. 

Is it insanity to be with someone who makes you go through the five stages of grief?

“You’re so fucking unpredictable, Frank,” you murmur, wiping your eyes. He looks at you with a glint in his eye. His interest in seeing you angry; it was new and wonderful. He wants to kiss your face, the powerful urge to keep you close always. 

He wants to be your last; your forever and always. You would care, wouldn’t you? He says to himself. 

Frank has never felt so alive when he’s breaking you down, getting to see every bit of your character you offer him. The ones that were new and old, exhilarating. 

He leans forward to press his lips close to your temples. You gasp. “You’re beautiful, you know that,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“You just want to be forgiven easily,” you grumble, stubbornly refusing to look at him. 

Frank lets out a laugh, a puff of hair tickling the hair behind your neck. “If it’s you, I would do every sinful act just to hear you say my name.” 

He nuzzles close to you, cigarette long forgotten as he twines his arms around you. They’re like serpents slithering to hold you down. “I want you to be my forgiveness,” he says. 

You try to resist, but with him it was so hard to. He did everything with a calculation. You knew with him it was easy to fall right back into that cycle. There would be a minute of kindness, fondness and then suddenly a switch of anger and resentment towards you. It was all so hard. Although when he holds you like this, his lips grazing against your skin, it makes everything fade to the back. 

The brutality of Frank's was his tumultuous emotions. 

Frank stays over at your house, which you don’t mind at all. You’d rather him be here than his house since he mentioned to you that his heater had broken down. He said he had moved into a shitty old apartment down on the outskirts of Alberta. He had sent you a picture of what it looks like and it looked to be like something out of a horror movie. 

Still though, one of these days you wish he would just invite you over. You let him borrow sweatpants and a t-shirt from your father's drawers. 

Frank makes a face when you hand him the clothes to wear. 

“What is it?” You laugh, questioning why his face is looking so peculiar at the garments. 

“It’s not really my style,” he mentions. The worrying wrinkles on his face seem so comically out of place in his usual moody boy appearance. 

He takes them without another word and shuts himself in the bathroom. You knock on the door, reminding him he can take a shower if he needs to. He’s already a step ahead of you when you hear your shower head already turning on. 

You relax a bit, happy that someone is there with you at the house. You’re glad it’s Frank. The last time he had come to your house, you thought he was an intruder ready to steal from you, but at that point in time, he had left out of courtesy. Even though his explanation of how he got into your home raised a bit of suspicion for you. 

You decided not to think about it anymore. 

As you fluttered about your room, getting it cleaned and picking up clothes to be folded away. You wanted to be a little risky, and wear something a lot more loose fitting. A silk camisole and short pajama set you had gotten from a cute boutique back during the summer. 

Suddenly, your ears focus on the sound of the shower stopping. The excitement builds up in you as you finish putting away the last bit of your laundry. 

He comes out of the bathroom, rubbing his head. The way his hair has grown back, thick at the top, you’ve never seen it so natural. Typically, Frank styles it away from him, or usually it’s a mess. This way, though, he looks so at ease. 

His tattoos show through the leanness of his muscles. He’s still unbelievably handsome. 

When Frank spots you, he smiles. You just have that emotion welling up inside you of feeling absolutely complete. 

“Hey,” you say quietly. Frank moves towards you. He smells fresh. 

His hands come up to your arms, and his fingers trail up your back. He hums, pleased with how much skin he can feel. You’re so impossibly warm. 

You jolt slightly at the ticklish sensation. It’s unreal, honestly. In your mind, though, you want to believe that this is forever. That Frank and your relationship is a true, honest thing. If he asked more from you, you would give it to him. All of it. 

Frank kisses you gently on the lips. When he pulls apart he sees that you’re leaning in close. Your nipples harden through the silk of that camisole, and your eyes flutter. 

He licks his lips. It’s too easy. There’s no way you can be this open with him, after everything he does.  

You make the move, though, much to his delight. Your arms wrap around him as if you’re molding against him and you kiss his neck. “I’ve been thinking about doing that since you came here,” you admit. 

His heart rate skyrockets. Shit. 

“Oh, yeah?” He rasps. Frank’s hands lift up the camisole, his fingers going to the dip of your waist, tickling their way up to the wings of your back. You moan quietly. 

“Please,” you beg him. Your thighs are quivering. You want more than this. “I want you,” you whisper softly into his chest. 

He frees his hands out of your shirt to rest them on your hips. “You sure about that, baby?” You look at him, his eyes are darker than you ever have seen them before. You feel a familiar wetness. The same one you get when you think of Frank late at night in your bed, and you toy with your clit. Your fingers tracing through your labia, making the motions of his hands and how you imagine them. 

You want this to be real. You’ve wanted him since you’ve met him. It’s final then, you press your forehead against his, exchanging a few breadths. “Please,” you whisper. “Please.” 

It’s all you can really say. You can’t think of any other magical word to get him to show you all of him. The feeling of danger when he groped you roughly, you try to imitate exactly his movements whenever it’s you, your fingers and your imagination. 

But it’s never enough. 

He’s real. 

Frank swallows dryly. A part of him is unsure of what to say. 

You huff quietly, pulling away slightly. The resolve in you, the hunger, this desire shows exactly who the hunter should be. 

You catch him off guard by kissing him voraciously; all lips and teeth, your fingernails scraping against the back of his head. You try not to let him catch his breath. 

The sensations you wanted to be lost in. Frank himself seems completely caught in a snare. You make him entirely lose himself in the feeling of you straddling his lap, kissing him, and making those tiny noises that drive him mad. 

This was too much. His senses were in overdrive. He wanted to be lost entirely in the feeling of you. 

Your mouth molds into his and he gently slips his tongue around yours, tasting you like you’re the sweetest wine. It dips deeply, trying to morph together, and you feel yourself become lightheaded. How is Frank so? So what? No adjectives. Nothing comes to mind except the delicious numbness he pulls from you and the power of his lips. 

He finally breaks apart, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re dangerous,” he mumbles, pressing his face against the crook of your neck. 

You laugh breathlessly. “Not as much as you are.”

His hands drift to brush against the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitches. 

You feel daring, impossibly bold, so your hand goes to touch the bulge in his sweats. His hand suddenly startles you, gently gripping your wrist. 

“Watch yourself,” he warns, a humorous glint in his eyes. “Don’t want to start something you can’t finish.” 

You bite your lip, trying to make him see you’re more than ready. You want to be with him. In every single way. The rawness of what transpired between the two of you and being in the quiet of your home. You craved the closeness, especially with him. 

“Maybe another time,” he finally says. He even doesn’t believe what just came out of his mouth. 

You nod, a little disappointed. You have read before that being with someone, men, would be more than willing. But maybe Frank just feels things too intensely. Maybe he wants to make you happy first before going onto the next step. 

You really wish he would’ve just done it. Frank leans over and kisses your temple. “Let’s get some rest.” 

How could you possibly rest after the most stimulating experience with your boyfriend, but you let it go? You stay close to his arms and he kisses your neck. His fingers trailing against your skin like embers from a flame. 

He had told you nothing really about what the next day was going to be like. So really, you were in the complete dark about where you both were even going. He gave vague hints and kept backtracking. 

Really, why is it your boyfriend is the biggest walking red flag? Good thing he’s handsome. 

He kept waffling on the information, and even when you persisted, he would not relent. 

“I could take you to my place, princess. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to go there, though.” 

Driving around places together was a usual favorite pastime. Frank, though, had damned this evening to hell. 

You cross your shoulders with a baleful glance at Frank, who doesn’t seem to notice your displeasure, or could just be ignoring it. 

“I’m just saying,” he continues. “You won’t like where I take you.” 

You shift in your seat, puffing out a breath. “How many times do I have to tell you? I want to be wherever you are, Frank.” The silence that came along with you saying such a thing was deafening. 

Frank seems to study you in a ‘amoeba inside a petri dish,’ type of way. “You say that now, but you’re going to regret it all.” 

“I won’t regret being with you ever,” you say. He smirks then. Today he seems more ravenous. He has something planned and you’re unsure of where he’s taking you. You think positively, despite all the red flags. You’re very excited. It was going to be the best weekend away with each other. 

He wanted to take you to his special, secret place for the time being. 

Frank had described it as somewhere in the mountains at some resort. You tried to look it up the other night, but nothing really had come up in your search. But Frank had quelled your questions with something he had built and created. 

So you were very curious what exactly he made as a surprise for the both of you. Only he really knows the location of where you’ll end up.

“So this place, have you stayed before with anyone?” 

“I have,” he answers honestly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. But then he smiles, wide and broad. “But it’s going to be different with you.” 

“With me?” 

His eyes glint mysteriously and he leans in. “Yeah. I can’t wait to show you something big.” 

You laugh, albeit a bit nervously. He’s acting a little weird, but nothing you haven’t seen from him before. Maybe the both of you will share something intimate and nice being alone together. 

Hopefully this time, you’ll be able to be together with no interruption of emotion. 

Maybe this time, he’ll let you in. He’ll be able to open himself up for you to crawl yourself inside the smallest corner of his heart.

[drabbles-mc]

Date Night

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I wrote this fic when my boyfriend and I were on a big Warzone kick so be warned that a majority of this story uses that as the base of it haha. This one-shot got away from me pretty quickly, and I’ve been super hesitant to post it (it’s literally been sitting in my ‘finished’ folder for months without me posting it because ~anxiety~) But I figured it’s not doing any good sitting unpublished. I know I haven’t really been creating a whole lot of Mayans content lately, but hoping to get back into the swing of it soon! xo

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You were sat on the couch in your apartment, headset on as you started another round of Warzone with Angel, EZ, and Coco. The four of you tried to band together at least twice a week when their lives would allow for it, all playing from your respective apartments. Coco heard you mention something off-hand about Call of Duty one night and he didn’t let it go, and somehow that evolved into the four of you running quads together in your free time. Coco and Angel were always getting intermittently suspended from the game for the things that they said when they were winning, and you and EZ found it endlessly entertaining.

“Thought you weren’t going to be on tonight, Y/N,” Angel commented as the two of you waited for EZ and Coco to get back to their headsets, each of them having gotten up to grab drinks.

You tried not to sigh, “Didn’t think I was. Plans got cancelled so I got some unexpected free time.”

“Glad we’re your second choice,” EZ’s voice founds its way over the stream with a chuckle.

“Second place ain’t that bad, EZ,” you laughed, “Don’t bitch about it.”

“Homeboy bailed again, didn’t he?” Angel asked, already fairly certain of the answer.

“Yuup,” you stretched the word out, letting your annoyance shine through, “Fuck it. Doesn’t matter,” you paused, “How long does it take for Coco to grab a fuckin’ beer?”

“Ay, I’m here,” he spoke up, finally, “Let’s run it.”

Considering the fact that the four of you were constantly talking amongst yourselves about things that had nothing to do with the game, you did pretty well as a team. You’d get a few wins together every week, and of course one of them was always trying to take all the credit. It didn’t matter enough for you to get involved, so you let them argue it out amongst themselves.

“Fuck!” Coco groaned, “Team on me. I’m down.”

You laughed, “Damn, hope you’re a better sniper in real life or Angel and EZ are screwed.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he shot back at you with a laugh.

“EZ how do you always end up in a completely different part of the map?” you chuckled, “We can’t revive you if we don’t know where the fuck you are.”

“When have I ever needed you guys to revive me?”

“This motherfucker,” Angel mumbled under his breath, trying not to sound as amused as he was.

“It doesn’t bother your man that you’re spending your night with three dudes who are, objectively, way better than he is?” Angel asked with a laugh as he trailed you in the game.

You shook your head, glad that he couldn’t see the smile on your face, “Your humility never ceases to amaze me, Angel.”

“Didn’t answer the question, Y/N,” EZ piped up.

“You guys trying to hold an intervention right now or something? Fuck,” you laughed.

“You think you need one, querida?” Angel’s tone was baiting, and you were trying not to feed into it.

Luckily, before he could keep pressing you about it, the two of you started getting lit up by another team in the game. Normally it would’ve been frustrating but you were glad to have the distraction. It was bad enough that Angel was always looking for any excuse to give you grief about your boyfriend, but you had to admit that your boyfriend gave Angel decent amounts of metaphorical ammo to use against him. You hated conceding to that, though, so the onslaught of players coming after you was a welcome distraction.

You managed to get out of it unscathed, but Angel wasn’t so lucky. You chuckled, “Have fun in the gulag, sucker.”

“We’re on the same team, you know,” he laughed.

“Not when you’re talking all that shit, we aren’t.”

“You’d still buy me back though, right?”

You scoffed, “Nah if I’m gonna drop four grand it’ll be on Coco.”

“Damn straight,” Coco’s laugh rang through the chat.

“Seriously where the fuck is EZ?” you shook your head as you sprinted across the map.

“Safe and sound unlike you fools,” he chuckled.

“Can you stop camping and come drop me some ammo?” you couldn’t hold your laughter in, completely undoing any work you had been putting in to sound annoyed.

Despite all the shit the four of you talked, you managed to clutch a win at the end of it with EZ and Coco. Angel was pouting over not being bought back, but you were a woman of your word and when you were able to Coco was the first player you brought back into the game. The four of you stayed on for a little bit in the lobby, just talking amongst yourselves before EZ and Coco got ready to sign off.

“Tell your man we said wassup,” Coco snickered.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Goodbye, Coco.”

“You two gonna play nice if I leave?” the smugness in EZ’s voice was palpable.

“No promises,” you laugh.

“Beat it, Boy Scout,” you could hear the smile in Angel’s voice, “Go clean your one set of silverware or something.”

“I have at least three sets now, but fine,” with one last laugh he left the lobby, leaving just you and Angel behind.

“Wanna run another one?” you chuckled, “Promise I’ll buy you back this time.”

“Fuckin’ liar,” he laughed, “But fine.”

It was silent between the two of you for a few minutes and it was almost eerie, solely because Angel was notorious for never keeping his mouth shut. A couple times you wanted to point it out, but something in the game would always distract you and you never quite got around to it.

“Boy Wonder still not home?” Angel asked.

“Something tells me that I’m flying solo tonight,” you paused, letting a half-hearted laugh fall from your lips, “Besides you, of course.”

“Of course,” he chuckled but you could tell that there was something more behind it.

“Whatchu thinking, Angelito? Hm?” you tried to coax it out of him.

“What kind of fuckin’ idiot,” he paused as he reloaded his gun, the brief pause making your stomach knot slightly, “doesn’t use dead silence? I hear your heavy feet from miles away, querida.”

You huff, knowing that he was deflecting, “That’s what’s weighing on you, Angel? Really?” your fingers nervously drummed against the back of your controller.

“Speaking of idiots,” he continued, and you wished that you could see his face, “what the fuck is your man doing ditching you again?”

There it is.

You let out a sigh that shifts into a hollow laugh, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Never thought to ask?”

You scoff, “You know, it actually never crossed my mind. Blowing my whole world wide open tonight.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “Clearly a touchy topic.”

“I don’t even know if I want the fucking answer, at this point,” you shake your head as the two of you slowly but surely make your way towards the safe zone of the map, “I don’t want another bullshit excuse.”

“Why do you even bother sticking around, then?”

“I dunno,” you chuckle quietly, “Why do you still pick up the AK when you could grab the M13? Sometimes people just do dumb shit.”

“I’m nasty with the AK and you know it,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence as the two of you battled it out in the game, covering each other before Angel continued, “I’m just sayin’, you should not be spending your date night playing fuckin’ Warzone with me.”

“My company that bad, Angel?”

“You know that ain’t what this is about.”

You sighed, “I know. It’s just—fuck!” you laughed and let your controller drop into your lap, “I’m down. Fuck.”

“C’mon, gotta keep your head in the game,” he laughed.

“You don’t get to grill me on my relationship and then give me shit for being distracted.”

“Wanna back out?”

You nodded before you remembered that he couldn’t see you, “Uh, yea sure. I’m tapped out for the night, I think.”

Both of you backed out of the match but you stayed on the line with each other. The silence that filled the space between you almost felt heavy. Part of you felt like you should be saying something but you didn’t quite know what.

“Wanna come over?” you didn’t know what possessed you to say that, especially given how late it was, but it was out there now and you couldn’t take it back.

“Now?” he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t surprised.

“I mean…yea?”

There was a pause before he laughed, “Fuck it, why not? I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Real fifteen, or Angel fifteen?”

You could easily picture him shaking his head at you, “Real fifteen.”

True to his word, fifteen minutes later you heard a knock at your door. You let him in and for some reason, things felt just a little bit different. It wasn’t anything that either of you said or did, but there was definitely a shift. You grabbed a couple beers for each of you before plopping down on the couch next to him.

The two of you got wrapped up in conversation, bantering back and forth about one thing then another. It was the hardest that you’d laughed in a long time and you had to admit that you needed it. Not that you didn’t love shooting back and forth with him and the guys, but there was definitely something different about sitting on the couch together and joking around as opposed to doing it over a headset from your separate living rooms.

At one point he bet you that you couldn’t win a round without your headset on. You were fairly certain that he was right, but once he made a bet out of it you needed to prove him wrong. Loading the game and taking a long drink from your next beer bottle, you got ready to hopefully make yourself twenty bucks richer.

It was about as futile as you’d assumed it would be, but the commentary from Angel made the repeated defeats worth it. The two of you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch, Angel doing everything except reaching over and snatching the controller from you in an attempt to throw you off. You playfully nudged him to try and put some distance between you as you played. Both of you were erupting with laughter when you heard a key turn in the lock of your door.

Both of you paused and looked over as your boyfriend walked in. Despite the fact that neither you nor Angel were doing anything wrong, you still felt like you were supposed to be explaining yourself. He only looked at you for a moment before his eyes locked onto Angel’s. The two of them had only met briefly on a few occasions—he never really hung out with the guys from the MC.

“Sorry. Didn’t know you had company,” he was still looking at Angel rather than you.

“Uh, yea,” you closed out of the game and leaned back on the couch, “Kind of a last-minute thing.”

“If you’re busy, I can leave,” his eyes darted back and forth between you and Angel.

“She shoulda been busy a few fuckin’ hours ago, bro,” Angel spoke up before he could stop himself.

“What?” his tone had more bite to it than you were used to.

“Angel, don’t,” you kept your voice quiet.

“No, let him say what he’s gotta say,” you could tell by the way your boyfriend shifted his weight that he was going to turn this into more than it needed to be.

“I’m just saying,” Angel shook his head slightly, “Me and my boys have spent more time with your girl on your date nights than you have lately,” he sucked his teeth, “No reason that she should be stuck playing fuckin’ Warzone with us jokers when you’re supposed to be taking her to dinner and a movie or some shit.”

“Fuck,” you whispered as you ran your hands down your face.

He stepped forward towards the couch, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Angel stood up off the sofa, effectively dwarfing your boyfriend without even having to try, “Who the fuck are you?”

Your boyfriend looked over to you, “Y/N, why do you le—”

“Nah, nah,” Angel shook his head, “This is between us now,” he motioned back and forth between them, “Say what you gotta say.”

“What gives you the right to come in here and tell me what to do with my relationship? Don’t you got biker shit you should be doing?”

“What do you think I’m doin’ right now?” there was a cocky smirk on Angel’s face as he spoke and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as amusing as you did.

You must’ve been worse at hiding your amusement than you thought, because when your boyfriend looked over at you, anger instantly took over his features, “This shit funny to you, Y/N?”

All of the care in you disappeared, “I mean,” you sighed and shrugged, “honestly? A little bit.”

He scoffed, “You know what? I don’t fucking need this,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna stay here and just be disrespected. I’m fucking, I’m done. I’m out.”

You knew that you should’ve felt something, but you just didn’t. You didn’t even bother to get up off the couch, “Leave your key on the way out, then.”

Both he and Angel looked at you with surprised expressions on their faces. Your boyfriend shook his head slightly in disbelief, “Wh-what?”

“If you’re done,” you leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, “then leave your key to my place. I don’t want my ex to be able to get into my place whenever he wants.”

He sputtered a few fractions of words before tossing the key onto the table and turning to head out. He slammed the door behind him and Angel looked back to you, shock written all over his face. A smile crept across his lips and he shook his head at you.

“That was fuckin’ cold.”

You chuckled, shrugging, “Was a long time coming though, right?”

“I mean, yea, but still,” he paused, really looking at you, “You good?”

You nodded, “Right now? Yea. Maybe it’ll hit me tomorrow or something. Or maybe it won’t,” you had to laugh.

“Sorry I kinda brought this on,” you could tell by the look in his eyes that the apology was genuine.

You shrugged, “You and your big fuckin’ mouth certainly didn’t help,” you chuckled, “But none of that was on you.”

“You wanna talk abou—"

“No,” you cut him off with a shake of your head, “C’mon,” you motioned for him to sit down next to you again, “Time for you to lose without a headset on.”

He laughed as he sat next to you, “I ain’t gonna lose.”

You smiled, shaking your head as he took the controller in his hands. Without thinking much of it, you found yourself settling against his side. He froze up for a moment before reaching around you, lightly wrapping you up as he held the controller in his hands. Neither of you said anything about it for a few minutes while he got himself set up.

You chuckled as you watched him loot for weapons, “Still gonna use the goddamn AK?”

“The gun isn’t what’s gonna make me lose, querida,” he chuckled as he chanced a glance down at you cozied up against his side.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you smiled up at him knowingly.

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Nothin’, nothin’.”

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[chewiedon]

SWIM IN GOLD | DOUMA

request: Reader is known to be the most beautiful woman in the village. Douma got intrigued by the word 'beautiful' from rumors that he tried to find the reader to see how beautiful she is and probably eat her soon. But when he saw how beautiful she really is. He hold off his hunger and kidnapped her. After that, Douma locked her in one of a special room for Queens (idk). The reader was upset and wanted to escape. As soon as she got the chance to, she run endlessly through the deep forest. A demon jumped out and attacked her, but before it could. Douma was there to kill it himself. The reader was threatened to be punished after that. But she doesn't care anymore. She knows she is safe with him from now on.

You woke up on the rough surface of the tatami mat with a thin comforter over your figure. Waking up with confusion plaguing your mind, you quickly raised your body and turned your head left and right trying to find something familiar in your strange surroundings. Immediately you tried to remember what you did the night previous, did you get drunk and accidentally sleep with someone? Did you end up being kidnapped?

The last thing you remember was laying down comfortably in your futon and going to sleep, not being able to recall the ingestion of any intoxication. The thought crossed your mind that someone might have drugged you asleep, that way you wouldn't have woken up. You weren't that heavy of a sleeper.

Morning rays of sun seeped through the cracks of the shoji doors, a body sized mirror in the corner or the small room reflected the little light it could catch. Standing up on your feet you got a better look at the room you were in, your gaze stopped at the sliding door which you immediately grabbed.

Sliding it open you were welcomed with long halls containing wooden floors, a man in a light colored kimono flinched when he saw you as he rushed to you.

"Madam, please wait in that room! The Lord is currently speaking to worshippers, I-" You cut the distressed man before he could continue.

"Where am I? I've never been here before," You were confused at the formality, sure men were usually formal to you but never like this.

"You're within the Lords' Chambers, if you're refusing to stay in there I'll have to lock you in there, madam!" You disliked his tone of voice with you, you were looking why and where you were and he was trying to lock you inside a room?

The rules of being a good guest flew out the window, you were in this strange house against your will and you don't want anything to do with it. You raised your voice, anger and frustration beginning to surface.

"I don't give a rat's ass about your "Lord" or whatever! Why am I here, I wish to leave!" You could feel the heat surface to your face as aggression rushed through your body, your foot stomping on the floor in frustration as if you were some child.

"Ma'am please!" The man pleaded.

"I had a feeling I heard a commotion~!" A masculine voice sang, a man dressed in colorful layers of kimonos with shining blonde hair.

He looked like he didn't long for this world, he was so colorful. A top his head he wore a crown as if he were some kind of God, in this case you could even say he was that. It explains his majestic appearance.

"Pardon the trouble, but please get back into the room, I'll be with you soon~!" You could hear the facade behind his tone, it was disgustingly obvious and he was disgustingly good at it.

The colorful man reached out to touch you, likely for some kind of comfort. You swatted his hand away, and took a step away. Your emotions were going haywire, who do these people think they are? Kidnapping you? Before you could even blink, a large hand had grabbed your jawline and pulled it forward.

"Keep this shit up and I'll punish you. I'll be with you soon," His tone turned cold, his smile wiped off his face- he looked like a different thing entirely.

Your stomach sank as fear had set in, this man standing in front of you was much bigger than you and clearly had power over people. There wasn't much hope for you, was there? You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded with a small whimper, you could feel your forehead dampen with sweat.

He removed his hand slowly and put a friendly pat on top of your head, his cheery disposition had returned. He walked down the hallway, the same way he came from originally.

"I'm so happy my wife is so understanding~!" He sang, "Takeshi-san please take good care of her in my place!" He sang before disappearing around the corner, leaving you in shock.

The servant, now dubbed as Takeshi shouted back, "Y-yes Douma-sama right away!" Before nudging you back into the room.

Douma was a name that rang in your ear, your mother often talked about him with the other housewives in the village about his cult. Despite the warm demeanor that followed the Eternal Paradise religion, you'd stayed far away from it. Something felt always off.

And now that you were stuck inside this small room with no reason why you were in the first place. A rock had settled in your stomach, a very large and immovable rock. You sat on the rough tatami mats on the verge of tears, choking back sobs.

Minutes turned into hours, hours of a sore throat and quiet crying. You were stuck, and nobody would think to look for you in here.

"Crying? What's wrong?"

The voice you had dreaded resonated throughout the room, your gaze was fixated on your crossed knees. His hakama pants made way into your view as he stood right above you.

"My... You didn't even use any of the gifts I got for you. I was sure you would like them."

"Why am I here?" Your voice was cold, trying your best to keep yourself from shaking.

Something was wrong, so very wrong. A sinister edge came off of Douma, he almost reeked of impurity. Simply from the way he presented himself to you, his facade made the rock in your stomach only grow. Your evident helplessness only made your anxiety spike.

His hand was cold, he cupped your cheek. Douma's multicolored eyes seemed to leave you in a trance, they were beautiful. Before you could even process what was happening his lips were on yours.

You've never felt more disgusted by something than right now.

Douma didn't have any body heat, his skin held a chill to it.

Shivers danced up and down your spine, you didn't dare to break the connection. He broke off and kissed your forehead while you stood frozen.

His breath smelled like blood.

"Was that your first kiss? Well don't worry, when we get married I'll make sure to kiss you plenty~!" He sang out, a bright smile on his face and his cheeks red.

"Married?" you had started, "I can't get married, my mother says I must wait until I'm 18 until I choose a suitor!"

"Your mother, oh the nice older lady with (h/c), right? No worries, I ate her just last night when I took her!"

Ate? What the fuck?

Was he the leader of some sick cannibalistic cult? Worshippers of the devil? Your voice was caught in your throat, unable to properly process the words that had spilled from Douma's lips. Was it a metaphor for something?

Douma sat down, your gazes at a similar height as you sat up straight. His back was slouched to look you straight in the eye.

"I'm unable to stay long, I'll make sure to keep you lots of company tomorrow though! It's simply just bad timing, my master has requested a very impromptu meeting. I'll be back, darling~!" he skipped around the room and flung the shoji door open, revealing the engawa.

Taking a deep breath, allowing the night air to fill his lungs.

"The night is beautiful," Douma commented, "But you're even more beautiful."

In less than a blink of an eye he disappeared. As if he was never there in the first place.

Douma didn't lie to you, he did have to leave to see his higher ups. But it was a trap, a test. He had known you were jittery, and he could feel the rushing adrenaline from the moment the two of yours' lips had met. He knew you would try to run away, and as such he could provide protection. Humans' minds were simple and delicate, and he knew how exactly to get you on his side. You were such a delicacy, he's never felt drawn towards someone like he had with you.

It may have been the way other men had talked about you. Or the way you had presented yourself to others. Those meager humans didn't deserve you in his opinion. You presented yourself as some kind of goddess, an inhuman being and giving your attention to mere maggots.

Back inside the estate, you didn't even look to see if Douma had actually left. Some fucked up shit was happening here and you didn't want any part of it. Not even looking for your shoes you had dashed out of the house. Ignoring the stinging of pine needles and small rocks against the bottom of your feet, you forced your legs to carry you through the forest.

Even though you didn't get a good look at your surroundings, nothing looked familiar in the slightest. You didn't care if you were running to the middle of the forest, you just needed to get away from him. The loose kimono restricted your movement, you twisted the obi off and lazily knotted the string around your waist.

Eventually, your adrenaline and stamina had given out. Your burning muscles only got weaker until they eventually gave out and knocked you on your knees, your lungs on fire from running. You had no idea how far away you were from the house, you could still see the dim light over the array of bushes and trees.

The song of the crickets was loud in your ears, as well as the snapping twigs and the rustling of the life around you. You had tried your best to muffle your heavy breathing, not wanting to cause any abnormal disturbances that might hint to your disappearance. Putting one hand over your wheezing mouth and another over your chest in hope to help calm yourself down. You could feel the blood pulsating all over your body.

"Ohoh? A human?"

Your heart sank, everything in your body completely refused to move. Ruled by the exhaustion and terror. It wasn't Douma's voice, but the choking stench of death made your throat close up.

"A woman too, luck really is on my side tonight!"

The demon stood above you from the withered log you had been hiding against, he twisted his body downward inhumanly. Grabbing your shoulder and digging his claws into your flesh, the stinging pain invading all your senses as you tried to wiggle yourself out. You tugged desperately at the hand, screeching and crying until your vocals were sore.

"How troublesome."

Before you could even begin to process the bloody image in front of you, your body had slammed into the rough ground below you, almost knocking the wind out of you. Scurrying backwards, seeing the attacker now in bite sized pieces. Decorating the grass below him with his insides.

"You disobeyed me."

Douma stood on the log above you, moonlight highlighting his figure. Godlike. Just what was he?

"I'll have to punish you."

The shaking in your body ceased, as soon as he had stepped on the ground before you your arms were latched around him.

You didn't care how he'd punish or hold you captive, you knew you were safe.

[helloprettybb]

captain idiot

i found this in my drafts mostly complete so i finished the end and changed a little of the beginning. so if it seems a little rough, that’s because it is.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

description: steve is bad with feelings...

warnings: general angst but happy ending, cursing i think

word count: 2.4k

It’s the day you’ve dreamed about since you joined the Avengers and you’ve never wanted it to end quicker. It was actually a good day and when Steve told you he wanted to talk alone, you thought it would be even better.

You were worried you were reading into the quick touches or lingering gazes too much. But this basically confirmed he felt the same. Oh, how ignorant you were.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” you ask, trying to contain your excitement. You bite the inside of your lip to prevent the giddy smile from forming. Sitting beside him in the common room, you force your leg still as you wait for him to speak.

You’ve had a massive crush on Steve ever since you joined the team. Actually, you liked him even before that, when you saw him on TV for the first time. You were only sixteen at the time, but seeing people like you saving New York inspired you. All of your life, you’ve been ostracized and cast out for your abilities. While your parents tried to be supportive, they still held some fear. You don’t blame them, especially after you accidentally split the house in half with a tree.

You were only seventeen when you first met Fury. He offered a position on the team. You wanted to attend college, so you declined, but you kept in touch. After graduating from university three years later, you decided to join the team. Tensions between the team were high as Steve, Natasha and Sam just rejoined the team and the Accords were dropped. But gradually, strain eased and the team seemed back to normal. Tony started talking to Steve and Bucky even joined the group. Everyone lived in harmony, until today.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just be blunt.” Steve states his intense eye contact piercing into your soul. “I like you. More than just a friend.”

You try to remain calm, but you can feel the childish joy rise in your chest. Steadying your tone, you reply, “I like you, too.” For some reason, Steve doesn’t smile but looks more serious.

He sighs and asserts, “I was afraid you’d say that.” Your small smile immediately drops.

“What?” you ask, filled with confusion. He just confessed that he liked you, yet he doesn’t want you to like him back.

Steve sighs and explains, “Look, I really like you, but we can’t be together.”

Knitting your eyebrows together, you ask, “Why not?” Anger’s rising in your voice and you’re grateful it isn’t sadness. You don’t want Steve to know how much he hurt you.

“_______, I’m over a hundred years old.” Steve reasons. His serious demeanor drops and you’d feel sympathetic if you weren’t so angry. Behind Steve’s shoulder, you see vines emerge from the corner plant’s soil. Fuck.

“I’m twenty-four!” you exclaim.

“It’s not just that,” he says and you stand up, attempting to leave before destroying the compound.

Steve stands up and follows you out of the common room. You can’t outwalk Steve, so he’s barely behind you. You look down and see vines slowly sprouting through the floorboards. Steve doesn’t seem to notice as he continues, “If we broke up, it would affect working together.”

You try to tune out Steve’s voice in an attempt to calm yourself down, but the more he talks, the angrier you get. You finally reached the residential area, but unfortunately, your room is one of the farthest down the hall. “Steve, just leave me alone!” you exclaim, not even turning to face him.

Steve continues walking and pleads, “I’m sorry, _______. I just need you to understand why we can’t be together.”

You’re halfway down the hall and you bitterly reply, “Oh, I understand perfectly.” You keep walking, but you don’t hear Steve’s footsteps. At first, you think that he finally listened and decided to leave you alone, but looking down you see thick, green vines on the floor. Turning toward Steve for the first time, you see that his body is bound and the vines are constricting his body. A feeling of deja vu rushes over you. You’ve been here before and it didn’t end well. With a wave of your hand, you cause the vines to fall and release him. Before he could follow you anymore, you open your bedroom door and slam it shut.

-

“Steve, you need to talk to her.” Natasha picks up a drooping flower. “All the plants are dead.”

It’s been four days since the incident. You’ve barricaded yourself in your room, isolating yourself from everyone. Steve didn’t tell anyone, but when the plants started dying rapidly, people had some questions.

“What happened to the geraniums?” Bucky brings up the afternoon after the fight. The formerly bright pink geraniums look yellow and shriveled. Steve grips his fork tightly as his jaw clenches involuntarily. He could’ve sworn he saw Natasha give him the side-eye.

“Yeah and the weeping fig is looking a little sad, too.” Wanda points out. The once tall, healthy plant leans toward the ground and resembles its name. “Hey, has anyone seen _______?” Wanda adds. Everyone recounts their day and realizes they haven’t seen you at all. Steve keeps his head down to avoid any interrogation, but in a room full of enhanced beings and super-soldiers, it’s impossible.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Steve.” Natasha states, implying that she knows more than she lets on.

“I haven’t seen her.” Steve says in his best captain for to cover his shiftiness. He stands from the table and subtly escapes the situation. As he leaves the kitchen, Steve could feel Natasha’s eyes burning into his back.

He reaches the residential area and he knows he should walk over to your room. In fact, he gets within five steps before ditching the idea altogether. Before he walks away, Steve takes one last glance at the door which is covered in dark, twisted vines, similar to the ones that nearly strangled him. Turning around, he walks back to his room and closes the door.

-

Everyone tries to talk to Steve, seeing as you aren’t leaving your room, but it proves futile when he starts to withdraw from the group, too.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Bucky says, pounding his coffee mug on the table during one breakfast that neither had you or Steve. Wanda jumps a little, startled by Bucky’s abrupt tone and hard hit on the table.

“I know, but what can we do about it?” Wanda questions.

“What can we do about it?” Bucky repeats, too much contempt in his voice for it being so early, “We can talk to him about it.”

“We already tried that,” Natasha speaks for the first time, her voice cool and collected, a sharp contrast to Bucky’s.

“Well, we can do it again! I’m sick of this. He’s been pining for her since she joined the team. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him,” Bucky complains angrily.

“If it’s any consolation, _______ feels the same way.” Wanda chimes in. Bucky raises an eyebrow, wondering how she knows. Wanda explains, “Her thoughts are not very subtle during meetings.”

“So basically, they both like each other but aren’t together,” Natasha concludes, and Wanda and Bucky nod. “Then, let’s get them together.”

“You say that like it’s easy. But Steve is a stubborn son of a bitch.”

“Yeah and _______’s barricaded herself in her room.” Wanda chimes in.

“Fine, then we’ll talk to Steve.” Natasha states. When no one says anything, she starts, “So...” Taking a slow sip from her mug, she finishes, “Who’s going to talk to captain idiot?”

-

Steve hears a knock on his door. Head popping up from his paperwork, which he’s metaphorically and literally buried himself in for the past six days, he tells F.R.I.D.A.Y to tell whoever it is that he’s busy.

After F.R.I.D.A.Y relays the message, Steve hears “Bullshit.” He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Bucky?” he asks. Steve gets up and opens the door himself. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you serious, Steve?” Bucky asks. Steve stares dumbly back at him. Bucky glides past him and Steve steps aside. “Your room looks like shit,”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Did you come here just to insult my room?”

“No, I’m here to talk about _______.” Bucky says. Steve’s heart drops. He’s been tearing himself apart about the whole situation and the only times you don’t dominate his mind is when he’s working.

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Steve says plainly, although he knows it won’t stop Bucky.

“Don’t care. You need to grow the fuck up and see her.” Bucky says bluntly.

“Why?”

“Are you serious, Steve? She’s fucking heartbroken. Trapped in her room and you did this to her-”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve argues back. Bucky stays silent, allowing Steve to continue. “I never wanted her to fall for me. I thought that if I confessed, she would reject me and let me move on. But when she reciprocated I didn’t know what to do.”

Bucky shakes his head, disappointed at his idiotic friend. “Well…” he sighs, “You gotta do something, man. She’s locked herself in the room and hasn’t come out in a week. We’re all concerned about her.”

Bucky waits for Steve to say something, but when he doesn’t, he simply shakes his head and leaves, muttering quietly.

Steve feels bad. Well, he feels more than bad. He feels fucking terrible. He never meant for it to be this… damaging. Steve thought that confessing would help himself but he never took into account your feelings. It seems he has to take Bucky’s advice and grow the fuck up.

-

There’s a light knock on your door for the first time in a week. You lift your head from your bed, which is now covered in crushed, dead leaves. “What do you want?” you call out.

“I want to talk,” It’s Steve.

“I don’t want to,” you reply.

“I know, so you don’t have to. Please, ______. Just listen to what I gotta say and you can ignore me for the rest of your life.” he pleads. You sigh, casually motioning toward the door and signaling a branch to open the door.

Steve walks in and sees you curled up in your bed with your back to him. He closes the door behind him and starts to speak, “I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough and definitely too late, but if you ignore everything I say, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything so Steve takes it as a good sign. He continues, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I care about you so much, but I was scared about what a relationship could mean. Not just because of the age difference or the power dynamic, but what it could mean for us. I don’t want to lose you.” He tried to be clear, but his scattered brain turned his articulate speech into a jumble of excuses.

“______?” he moves toward you and when no branches try to stop him, he continues. He reaches your bed and becomes concerned that you’re not speaking.. “Doll, talk to me please.”

You turn toward him and his heart breaks at the sight. Your eyes are red and your cheeks are stained with tears. He instinctively pulls you into a hug and you just about fall into him. You sob into his chest and he doesn’t say anything. Steve smoothes his hand up and down your back, trying to calm you down. It helps and your breathing starts to even out. When you feel like you’re able to speak, you move away to face him.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset, I just-” you try to speak but feel another wave of sadness his you. Steve brings you back to his chest and you cry some more.

“It’s okay, take your time.” Steve assures you. Fuck, you should be mad at him. But all your anger washes away as you let everything out.

Once you finish crying, you pull away to talk again. “There was this one guy in high school. I really liked him and I thought he liked me back.” You start and a warm feeling forms in your chest when you see that Steve is intently listening. “I told him how I felt and he said he felt the same. But then,” You start to get choked up again and Steve rubs your arm soothingly.

“But he said that he can’t be with me because I’m too dangerous. I guess he was right because, well I was furious. Steve,” You look at him with pleading eyes, “You gotta understand, I was barely 16 when this happened. I was just a kid.”

You start to ramble and Steve tells you, “_______, no matter what happened, I’ll still care about you. Promise, nothing can change how I feel about you,”

You let out a shaky breath, “When he got up to leave, some of my vines caught his leg. I could barely control this,” You gesture to your room of overgrown foliage. “Back then. Sowhen I tried to release him, more vines started to trap him. I’ll never forget him yelling. Begging me to stop, but I couldn’t, Steve. I couldn’t control my emotions and I couldn’t control my powers.”

Tears start streaming down your face again, “He was right, Steve. I was too dangerous. I’ll always be.”

He hugs you again before you could finish that thought. “No, no, no.” Steve whispers in your ear. “Honey, you’re not dangerous. He was wrong, _______.” He looks you in the eye. “You’ll never have to feel like that ever again.”

“Promise?” you ask weakly.

“I promise.” he says, “Nothing can make me stop loving you.”

[100hearteyes]

Part 2 of Clarke And Lexa Make a Porno, because why the fuck not.

Part 1.

"No. Absolutely not."

Anya's wolfish grin is no good omen. Lexa feels a sense of dread wash over her and tries in vain to assuage her nerves by holding her friend's gaze. Anya wouldn't look this sure if she didn't have some card up her sleeve.

Lexa throws a furtive glance around, checks that her co-workers are still focused on the German porn telenovela. It's only when she's sure that the action on-screen will keep them rooted for a while that she turns back to Anya, trying but failing to meet her eyes.

She overcompensates with another glance around the room and a low hiss. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but am I not too," she licks her lips, gathering the courage, "'vanilla' to do it?"

Anya shrugs like it's a no-brainer; crosses her arms and props her booted feet on Lexa's desk. "That's exactly the point. You're a lesbian Disney princess. Pretty sure if you started singing the whole fucking fauna of Capitola would follow you around."

Lexa levels Anya with a glare and tries to push her feet off the desk, to no avail.

(Seriously, what's it worth being editor if she can't even have her subjects' respect? She wishes this job was less about the headaches and more about the self-indulgent moments of microscopic tyranny.)

The feet might not budge, but Anya will. Lexa is sure of it. She draws herself taller and tucks on her most authoritative scowl. "I won't do it."

Anya plucks an imaginary cigarette from her mouth and throws it away without a care in the world. She reaches behind her and drags forth a heavy wooden box, filled to the brim with—

"My vinyls."

Lexa is in a daze.

She thought she'd lost all her vinyls to time and moving. She mourned each one of them for at least a year, cried many a night away clutching her record player to dear life, lamenting their shared loss.

They had a real connection.

But it turns out her vinyls weren't lost after all, and her tears were for naught. They were safe all along, albeit in different hands, and she'd known nothing of it, like a mother who lets her children wander about without aim nor authority.

How can she ever have kids if she can't even take care of her prized vinyls?

Lexa feels a prick of self-righteous indignation at the betrayal and puffs out her chest. "Why do you have all my vinyls?"

"I think you mean all my vinyls," Anya corrects with a lazy flurry of one hand towards the box.

"You don't even own a record player."

"How the fuck would you know?"

Lexa raises an eyebrow at her friend. "I come over all the time?"

"I could hide it while you're there."

"And then you'd never find it again, because that's what happens every time you try to hide something from me."

Anya shrugs and watches as Lexa picks one of the vinyls and turns it over in her hands, reading the track list on the back with the reverence one would a millennium-old parchment. Then she looks up at Anya with a stern glare.

"Over half of these were stolen from my house."

Anya shrugs again with infuriating nonchalance and Lexa wishes she had a pencil nearby just so she could snap it in two with one hand. Or stab one of Anya's eyes with it.

"Maybe I just rescued them from the actual malefactor," drawls Anya.

"We both know the real culprit sits across from me and has been wearing the same socks for the past three weeks."

Nailed it.

When she looks at her friend, however, all she sees is that same old resting bitch face that never seems to go away.

"Wow, Lexa," Anya deadpans. "Now you've really hurt my feelings."

Sometimes, Lexa wonders if Anya really has a rock where her heart should be. A supernatural, blood-pumping rock, of course, but a rock nonetheless. Or, maybe, Anya is a psychopath. Maybe the blood money theory wasn't so far-fetched after all. That would explain the brazen lack of empathy for everyone else's feelings, most of all Lexa's. What does it say about Lexa that her one true friend is someone who sneezes literally every time Lexa says 'I love you'?

Not that Lexa says it a lot. Only once or twice every few years.

Just enough to have noticed the pattern.

"Are you really trying to blackmail me with vinyls?"

Anya fakes an affronted gasp, laying a hand on her heart. "Would I ever. Think of it as... an incentive."

Lexa really does love Anya, despite her friend's... unique demeanor. Anya helps her come out of her shell — by taking up all the space and forcing her out of her own metaphorical home — and every once in a while she likes to make sure Anya is aware of her gratitude. Sometimes, though, things get really fucking weird.

Lexa would still do anything for her best friend.

"Let's imagine, hypothetically - very hypothetically," she stresses, although Anya's burgeoning smirk tells Lexa she isn't so easily fooled, "that I agreed. What would happen next?"

Anya takes her feet off Lexa's desk and sits up straighter, perhaps aware of the importance of this moment. This, Lexa decides, will determine her answer.

"Well first, I'd have to get you a costar. Then we'd sign some legally binding shit, find a crew, and make the damn movie. Simple as that."

Anya leans forward, looking into her eyes. In Anya's, she sees honesty and a pressing need to reassure. It takes some of the pressure off her shoulders right away.

"Look, Lexa, you can say no. But your name won't be on anything related to the movie and I promise no one in this shitty town will ever find out you did this."

This is why Anya is Lexa's best friend. And it's why Lexa would do anything for her.

Even star in a porno.

"Okay."

Anya's inner smile must be really, really big, because Lexa knows how hard she tries to tamper its outward expression — and still her lips manage to lift into a grotesque grimace. Coming from Anya, it's the equivalent of a blissful grin.

"Okay?"

Lexa nods and closes her eyes, bracing herself for a bone-crushing hug. It never comes. When she opens her eyes, Anya's resting bitch face is back on.

"What, did you want a fucking hug?"

It's a blessing to have her rude friend back, Lexa guesses, because seeing Anya almost smile is fifty shades of unsettling. So she rolls her eyes and rolls with it.

Her next question demands her full focus, lest she makes an even bigger fool of herself than usual.

Lexa breathes in, makes sure all her co-workers are still otherwise entertained, breathes out. Smooths out a non-existent wrinkle in her pants, wets her lips for courage.

"Anyway," she treads with caution, "do you have someone in mind for the other main role?"

It's fitting that Harper McIntyre's hit song One More Betyreyal (one of her less inspired titles, if Lexa may say so) starts playing in that moment, for the look in Anya's eyes speaks of nothing but danger. Lexa wonders how much planning went into this conversation, so Anya could plan all her gut punches in advance.

"Clarke Griffin."

No. No. Anyone but her.

Clarke Griffin is the new recruit, although Lexa hardly understands how there can be someone new considering the station is broke and they’re already overstaffed — and none of them make nearly enough money for how much they laze around all day.

Clarke came from out of town with a fancy degree and was directly hired as an editor. She voices the early afternoon newscasts and Lexa curses the one-hour period during which she's forced to cohabitate with Clarke every day.

Apparently, Clarke had taken a liking to unnerving her, be it by smirking at her every time she catches Lexa staring or by making all sorts of inappropriate comments — to her ear. Lexa hates how much it affects her, but how can she possibly focus on reporting about Lionel "Real Sight" Foster swallowing his own wooden eye or how Jasper Jordan rescued his own private parts from the jaws of two slats of an unassuming park bench if someone keeps doing everything in their power to distract her?

Lexa has a theory (an iron-clad theory, if she may say so herself), and it's that Clarke is trying to get her fired so she can take her shift. It's the best shift of the day. There is no other possible explanation.

"You know what, I take it back. Now you need to convince two people to star in your porno."

"Oh, there's no need." Anya waves her argument away with staggering nonchalance. "Clarke's already said yes."

Wait, what? "But you told me we'd need to get me a costar."

Anya shrugs and Lexa is now seriously considering revisiting her psychopath theory. "I lied."

"You conniving, lying b—"

"Careful," Anya cuts in with a raised eyebrow. "I am under protection of the Capitola Astrologers Union."

"Of which you are president, treasurer, and the only legal member," Lexa reminds her. "And I think any upstanding judge would love to know how exactly every other name on the list has joined said union posthumously."

"I am an astrologer, Lexa. I can communicate with the dead. It's in my job description."

"It scares me that you're not even aware you're describing an entirely different profession."

Lexa sits back, staring at the ceiling (and the chewing gum Murphy glued there a year ago — he could've been an Olympic jumper if he committed to work the way he does to being an asshole), trying to come to terms with a single, harrowing probability: she's going to star in a porno with Clarke Griffin.

"l don't understand why it has to be Clarke."

Anya leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees, expression serious and ready to talk shop. The last time Lexa saw her like this was— actually, Lexa doesn't think she's ever seen Anya like this.

"Look, I've done some market analysis and most girl on girl pairings are a blonde and a brunette." Anya raises both her hands and starts counting off fingers, "Brittana, Petramos, Holstein, Wayhaught, Supercorp, Joanarty, Choni, the inaptly named Shoni, Deanoru, Dana and Alice, Bette and Tina, Catradora, Villaneve, Clexa—"

"What's Clexa?"

"I don't know, some chicks from this fucking terrible CW show."

"Do you like it?"

"Do I like what?"

"Clexa."

"Dude, I don't even know their fucking names!" Anya exclaims, exasperated. As if she's the victim here. "The only Clexa I ship is you and Blondie. Naked. On my porno. Clarke and Lexa. Clexa. Havin' very hot sexa."

"Smart," Lexa deadpans.

"I know."

"Why can't it be Niylah? She's blonde, too."

Anya's smirk is five hundred shades of gross. "I know you'd love to get up close and personal with Niylah's knick-knacks, but no."

Lexa decides to let the comment fly for the sake of her own sanity.

"Why Clarke, though?"

"Because you two have chemistry, you fucking dimwit."

Lexa snorts. Chemistry. Lexa has never heard of something so absurd. She and Clarke have as much chemistry as Harper McIntyre and any semblance of originality.

Which is to say, none at all.

"She makes very inappropriate comments," she argues instead, knowing full well that pressing on the topic of chemistry will only open way for some trademark crass joke from Anya.

"Yeah," her friend agrees, like it's obvious. "Because she knows you love them."

She most certainly does not.

"I most certainly do not."

"You do. Your freakishly tiny ears go red whenever she flirts with you. Your step falters when she makes one of those comments, for fuck's sake," Anya observes, pointing in Lexa's general direction, before leaving forward and laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you, my friend, are a walking lesbian cliché."

Lexa takes Anya's hand off her shoulder. "Can you please stop insulting my tragically conspicuous homosexuality?"

"Oh please," Anya scoffs. "I'm bisexual, I can say whatever I want."

"If my step actually faltered - which they don't - it would be because her comments are annoying, off-putting, unprofessional, inopportune, and... and inappropriate", she finishes lamely.

"And you fucking love them."

"I don't."

Anya leans back on her chair with an evil smirk, propping her feet on the table and crossing them at the ankles. Lexa tries to push them off to no avail.

"Legalities aside, it's very simple. Clarke has already said yes. I just recorded you saying yes."

Lexa sputters, "You what--"

"You're both legally bound now." Anya shrugs. "Look at it this way: it will be very educational. You'll finally learn how to make a girl come, and get paid for it. Sort of."

A beat of silence.

"Anya, are you aware that you say something at least vaguely criminal every five sentences? Something that could actually put you in prison?"

Anya clicks her tongue, sinking farther into her chair, and lowers her sunglasses to her eyes.

"I've got friends everywhere, Lex. Let's just say I've dipped more than my fingers in my fair share of pies, if you catch my drift." A second later, she lowers her sunglasses just enough to reveal her eyes. "That means my tongue. My tongue's been in a lot of pies, too."

Lexa doesn't doubt that for a second.

"What I need to know is," Anya adds, taking off her sunglasses and throwing them across the room, "will you dip your fingers in the porn pie?"

Like this conversation hasn't caused enough trauma for thirty lifetimes.

"If I say no, will you still give me back my vinyls?"

"Absolutely fucking not."

Lexa swallows, clenches her jaw, and thinks of all those lonely nights spent in the couch clutching her record player and sharing cookie dough ice cream with it, longing for long-gone times when she'd dance to the mellow voices of the likes Billy Ocean and Ella Fitzgerald.

"My answer is yes."

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Family Dynamics.”

Thought you guys might enjoy this today.

A lot of you have been asking for more Conn in the stories, so I hope you enjoy :)

“Wow, would you look at that.”

“No.”

“Wow.” “No. Hopping on the nope train and taking a ride to nopeville….. Nope absolutely not.”

“Come on, Krill, isn’t it just….. Just awesome!.”

“That, that right there is an absolute  raging death trap.” “Oh come on>” Adam said, hands on his hips as he stared up at the rocket.. THe Saturn V replica down to the last bolt. He grinned and danced around on his toes in a circle, “This is gonna be so cool!”

Krill turned to look at Adam, “No, no this is not cool, Adam. I am serious this time, not joking. I really don’t want you going in that thing. And with the assassination attempts and…. All that is going on with the GA leaders….” He looked at Adam Very pointedly here, “I don’t think you should do this.”

“Are you serious, a once in a lifetime opportunity and you want me to just say no because there is a possibility someone Might try to kill me?”

“Um…. YES.”

Adam crossed his arms, “Krill, I refuse to let myself live in fear when there is life to be lived.”

Krill turned to look hopefully over at Eris who was standing quietly by his side. She shook her head at him.

“He isn’t going to change his mind.”

“Can you at least try?”

She sighed, “Ok.”

Gently Eris took one of his hands forcing him to look at her, “Da…..Adam think about it please, there are a lot of powerful people after you, powerful and with resources. If they want to kill you, then this will be the perfect time to do it. They could put it off as some horrible accident, and no one would be the wiser.” She paused as he looked back at her, “I can see that this isn’t going to change your mind either.”

He smiled, “This is what I have my people for.” HE took the two of them by the shoulders and led them to where they could overlook the command station in the distance, “In there, right now, there are elements of the criminal underworld that owe me a favor, looking for any clues to indicate an attempt on my life.” He grinned, “Also, I have two secret weapons.”

He put his arm around Eris and then turned his head to look up at the sky.

Eris and Krill followed his lead.

Krill groaned, and Eris went wide eyed.

As a starborn descended from the sky ribbons flapping hands outstretched dropping from heaven like an ethereal angel. Sunlight bounced off his skin as he moved slowly downward hands held out to the side fingers outstretched. She stepped forward and- was immediately hit with a wall of his thoughts.

She no longer saw him as ethereal.

He was an asshole.

Conn drifted towards the ground but didn’t touch ribbons swirling around him seaweed undulating in a dark sea: Yes her thoughts about him had changed that much, he had gone from angel to seaweed rather quickly in her head.

He turned his eyes to her.

‘Who invited you’

Eris frowned, “I-

Adam glowered at Conn, “Be nice to her.”

Conn turned his head to look at Eris and drifted closer looking her over, ‘Oh daddy issues I see, well who doesn't.” He turned to look up at Adam, ‘Gotta love people borrowing your DNA for craft projects especially when they give you kids a little too early.”

Adam was not able to hide the thought that came marching to the forefront of his mind.

You know that’s interesting considering your starborn DNA was the most easily accessible before Eris was born.

He didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t need to.

Eris made a face, and Conn drew back.

“HIM!”

Shit, Adam thought

“I never said that.”

“But you were thinking it.” She retorted turning on him with her eyes narrowed before turning to look back at Conn, who floated in shock behind her.

Adam held up his hands, “Woah now, I can’t be for sure, it just makes sense.”

Eris turned back to where Conn was floating and made another face, “But, but HIM. I don’t want…. I, I can’t be related to HIM.”

Adam sighed, “Being able to read his thoughts must be a bitch eh?”

Of course at the moment Conn wasn’t really having any thoughts. It was mostly just TV static with an undercurrent of the thoughts of people around him amplifying them even more in Eris’s head. Which is why she could hear Dr Krill quietly inching away as he wondered if he should tell them or nah?

He hd suspected as much the moment they had seen Eris, and learned that the DNA being used was Adam’s.

It had been easy enough to get Adam’s DNA strands from the original hybrids….. The adaptids….. But they would have needed other aliens to pair him with. And there was only one known starborn available to steal DNA from.

Conn’s static continued.

Eris groaned and put her hands to her head.

Adam rubbed his forehead, “Well, on the bright side, you turned out more like your human side of the family.” That’s when the static in Conn’s head fizzled out and he turned to look at Adam. With a sudden Evil grin, which he must have been practicing, for it seemed far to human for him, He floated over and grabbed both of them around the shoulders, “Isn’t this sweet, now we can all be one big happy family.’

“Get off me Conn.” Adam grumbled 

He just squeezed tighter, though as a starborn the strength was somewhat lacking. ‘Don’t talk like that, you and I have a beautiful daughter together. Just look at her. She’s got your internal organs and my skin. Isn’t that lovely.”

“Conn I swear if you keep touching me I will punch you and probably break something.”

Conn made like he was sighing as he pulled away, “You know, as her parents we should really be trying to set an example for a healthy loving relationship. A family that plays together-”

He floated away quickly before Adam could swipe at him missing the strike by mere inches.

“Domestic assault in this household!”

Eris hid her face in her hands, “Oh no.”

She was definitely not sure how she was supposed to feel about this. One the one hand, she was at least glad that he wasn’t repulsed by the idea of her existing. However, on the other hand, it was likely that her paternal starborn side was Conn! The thought made her nauseous . Reading his thoughts made her feel the same way. Clearly this creature, whatever he was had never grown out of petty pranks, and intense sarcasm.

More annoyingly, he seemed to have the ability to hide things from her just by NOT thinking about them. She learned nothing about his past, or really his more internal thoughts. He only let her see what she wanted to see, and what he wanted her to see made her more annoyed the more she thought about it.

“I’m so excited, aren't you. Finally reunited at last!”

Adam sighed, “This is now how I planned this. Conn you stupid bastard, I called you down here to do a job for me.”

“You wouldn’t call your hubby stupid would you?”

Adam looked like he was about to turn green, “Never in a million years would I ever even consider that. In fact, I think I would rather shoot myself out the airlock an have all the nitrogen bubble out of my blood thank you very much.:”

“One night stands happen.”

“Conn I swear if you keep going down this metaphor. I am going to commit murder. Never in a million years would I touch you with a nine and a half foot pole, end of story.”

“Excuse me for being skeptical as you have been known to date aliens in the past.”

“That was Sunny, who is arguably, not even arguably, but she IS smart, talented, funny, a total badass, and a fucking gem, while you are a creepy little space gremlin.”

“Yet I have a kid with you and she doesn’t sooooooo, forgive me if I say I win.”

“We can’t be for sure that she’s yours.”

“I demand a paternity test.”

“Conn, if you don’t let this go right now I am going to rip your spine out through your back and let Waffles chew on it.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a spine.”

Adam took a eep long-suffering breath, “I am done with this conversation, now I called you down here for a reason, and that reason is that I need you two watching out for something going wrong. Eris, as a member of my family you will be allowed inside mission control to watch what is going on. Your job is to make sure that no one is planning my death from the inside.” he turned his head in Conn’s direction and flipped him the bird as he continued to speak, “You on the other hand are in charge of the engineers. I know you don’t give a shit about boundaries, so your job is to hang around the engineers and the rocket hangers to see if any of them had a hand in sabotaging the mission. If you can get near the chairwoman, or the UN President, than do what you can. I need to know how deep all of this goes.” He turned his head to Eris, “You are probably going to be able to get closer to everyone than Conn can. People know he is a starborn and they know what he can do. No one will assume  anything about you if you keep your head low.”

She smiled, “Already done.” A little part of her leaped inside, and she felt giddy. Adam needed her to help protect him! She was being useful for once! Not to mention that this meant he trusted her and….. She turned a side eye on conn, Then again, that probably meant that Adam trusted him too.

The starborn grinned at her again, showing rows and rows of of sharp circular teeth.

She winced and looked away.

Gross 

“I have to get going, but you two should get to work. This is going to be a long week.”

He whistles once, and Waffles jumped up from where she had been resting at his side, and gently trotted after him as he walked away back towards the command station. Eris started after him and Conn floated up next to her.

“What an unexpectedly delightful day, don’t you think.”

“Can you be less creepy please.”

“It runs in the family Eris, you have the creepy inside you too. Embrace it!”

She shoved him away with one hand and ran to catch up with Adam.

She could hear conn laughing behind her as he floated away towards the hangers.

She glanced over his shoulder as she grabbed onto Adam’s arm, “Why is he so weird!”

Adam shrugged, “I think something happened to him when he was first born. I would say that he was dropped on his head, but that’s probably not accurate. Think i heard something about him having been isolated from his clan for the first few thousand years with his dead mother, but I don’t know if that’s true or if it’s just something he made up. Either way I think whatever happened to him kind of made him psycho.”

She glanced over her shoulder to the figure floating off into the distance, “Than why do you keep him around?”

He sighed, “Unfortunately, his abilities are invaluable. The ability to bring him alone when it comes to negotiations, or to talk with new alien species speeds up both diplomatic missions and learning new languages.” He sighed, “Also, as far as I can tell he is pretty loyal. He always does everything I ask him to do as long as it is important enough. Sure if I asked him to pick up after himself he’d probably flip me the bird and go floating in the other direction. But every time something big and important has happened, he has always been relatively reliable. A part of me wonders if he just doesn’t know how to interact with people, and somewhere deep down there is a desire to be wanted, but that’s not something I can prove.” He glanced pointedly at her.

She shook her head, “Sorry, he’s pretty good at hiding what’ he’s thinking.”

Adam grunted, “A real pity. Now-” He turned to look at her, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye, “Stay low. If you hear anything, don’t try to do anything about it yourself. Call my ship, either Sunny or Ramirez and they will deal with everything. If you see someone wearing a red pin with a white rocket on it, then those are our undercover guys, and they should be able to help you too. But it’s likely you will know who they are anyway.”

He looked her in the eyes, “Whatever happens, your safety comes first, not mine. You got that/”

She nodded eagerly even though she knew that last instruction was a lie.

He was more important than her.

And she was going to make sure that he stayed safe.

[lettrespromises]

> LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

> Letter object : the heart’s warmth and the body’s flames.

> Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

@bruised-cherry​ sent a letter : ❝Hiya, Nikki! Can I request a one-shot(if you're down) where Todoroki and Bakugou's(poly relationship) s/o got into a little argument with each other and now their s/o is rejecting them and ignoring them. Since it's summer, TodoBaku turned off the air conditioning, AC, etc, knowing their s/o would need them soon. And just, kinky, dirty ass s m U t :) (and lana spelled backwards if you're down with that, if not that's cool). Sorry I'm a kinky hoe 👉😅👈❞

Author’s letter :

❝ dear bruised-cherry,

first and foremost, i would like to apologize for taking so long to write your promised letter! nonetheless, i had a lot of fun writing it, hopefully it will reach your expectations!! it’s 4:05am as i am writing this and my brain is unable to write proper words i’m sorry—

sealed with a kiss,

nikki.❞

Genre : Pure smut, angst if you squint.

Warnings : Cursing, sex, vaginal sex, blow-job, cunnilingus, anal sex, daddy kink. (Please consider that the characters are aged up.)

Word count : 5.8K.

This day seemed to counterbalance the already established rules of time and space, you were secretly convinced that minutes were hours and each time you would lay your eyes upon any item with the sole purpose of indicating the current hour, you felt as if time had stopped. It was a long, long day. Truthfully, you wished you could have had the opportunity to meet someone whose quirk was time control to ask them to skip the remaining hours of the day.

The root of the problem was deeply imbedded with the increasing attacks committed by the villains in town, you were on a mission with both Bakugou and Todoroki- a clear lack of communication and coordination signed a burning defeat for the three of you. A mission built and perfected during several months had just blown into pieces, your efforts, tears, blood and energy were the combustibles to the pain fueled by this defeat. Each one of you attempted to exude this loss in your own way while making your way back home. Todoroki, sat on the passenger seat, found the cure to his own inner built-up anger by digging his pearly whites into the flesh of his thumb while observing the passing scenery before his eyes. Bakugou, unexpectedly, made a martyr of the steering wheel by squeezing the non-existent life out of it, causing his fingers to turn white in the process. You, on the other one hand, kept on reminiscing the earlier events of today, your mind roaming over and over again to find what went wrong, you weren’t exactly angry : disappointed in yourself was a more precise way to describe the matter.

The silence was deafening, almost agonizing. Truthfully, silence was even more intimidating than noise- a noisy ride would have included the repertoire of Bakugou’s insults flowing freely from his mouth, it was expected. But silence, on Bakugou’s end, echoed to a level of anger rarely ever reached, metaphorically speaking, Katsuki was a living and breathing ticking bomb at this very moment.

The sound of the car door smashing broke the silence as you arrived home, Bakugou was already inside, his hands shoved in his pockets as expected. You freed a sigh you ignored you were holding from your lips, an early sign that you knew there was little to no seconds left on the ticking bomb. Todoroki sent an apologetic glance in your way, you knew he didn’t mean no harm, if anything, it was a silent sign to encourage you before facing the aftermath caused by the explosion of the bomb.

Flower vases left shattered on the floor, a door handle scarred by the scorching hot imprints of Bakugou’s unforgiving hold and a continuous flow of insults as background noise- those were the said aftermath of the explosion. Bakugou’s body language radiated off pure anger, like you or Todoroki had barely seen before, his rage was exuding from the pores of his palms through a dangerous marriage of small explosions and smoke. He was roaming back and forth in the living room, his stare was focused on the explosions emanating from his hands as a way to convince himself that the more explosions would be set free, the less he would feel angry.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck… Goddamnit, fuck! What the fuck went wrong, hah?! We planned this shit entirely, from start to fucking finish. What the fuck went wrong?! You tell me instead of staring at me, do fucking something for once! » The words echoed and morphed into a roar sent directly your way, anger lacing his every word.

« Bakugou, don’t say things you don’t mean. » Todoroki stated, the pseudo comfort embedded in his voice radically clashed with the heat of Bakugou’s words.

« Don’t say shit I don’t mean? Who the fuck are you to tell others what to do when you couldn’t even do shit when we were facing those bastards?! You didn’t do shit, you fucking left us on our own and arrived at the very last second. So tell me, give me one good fucking reason as to why I should take shit from you! Fucking say it to my face, because I’m dying to know what’s your excuse. » The sounds of Bakugou’s explosions slowly adopted the structure of a crescendo, but Todoroki remained unfazed, his facial expression didn’t betray his pseudo serenity. « I was evacuating the civilians, you knew that, I don’t understand why you act so confused. We prepared this plan together, the three of us, you knew what my role was. »

You were stuck in the middle of a battlefield, torn between two sides but the tragic twist of this scene was that you couldn’t find the strength to defend one of them. You needed to remain objective and impartial, something obviously easier said than done. Your eyes darted from one figure to another each time you heard the sound of either Todoroki or Bakugou’s words, truthfully, you felt paralyzed under the lack of options in this crucial situation- on one hand, Katsuki was nothing short of acerbic when anger consumed him, on the other one hand, Shouto’s calm attitude hid a dangerous amount of anger building inside of him ready to explode if Bakugou’s venom stung too hard to Todoroki’s liking.

« Oh yeah, yeah. You were on you own, hah? Evacuating civilians and shit, am I supposed to feel fucking sorry for you when Y/N were busting our fucking asses out there to take down those bastards? You’re trying to play it solo like your old man? You know what, the more I think about it, the more you start to act like him-… »

« Katsuki! That’s enough, shut up! »

It was your turn to let anger lace your words in such a way that they developed their own toxins, purposefully made to sting Bakugou hard enough to cut his rambling. Endeavor was a touchy topic to Shouto, and as soon as Katsuki pronounced the words ‘old man’, a hint of flames appeared on Todoroki’s collarbone- it was only a matter of second before an inferno invaded the living room.

« You never know when to stop, do you? Do you have any idea of how ridiculous this is? You, Bakugou, you should know out of all people that his father his a sensitive topic, and yet you let your anger get the best of you every damn time. Todoroki, were you really ready to blast your flames at him? Aren’t the both of your grown men, or am I mistaken? How disappointing, how fucking disappointing. » You dropped every last ounce of energy in your tirade, every last bit of emotion in the process too. You felt so numb, deprived from your own vigor.

Both Todoroki and Bakugou’s eyes fell on you as soon as your roaring words broke their mutual verbal assaults, their mouths were set agape- they did have words on the tip of their tongue, but they couldn’t find the strength to give life to them. There it was again, the deafening and agonizing silence.

You couldn’t bare standing in the same vicinity as them, disappointment clouded your vision and the more you looked at them, the more your vision became foggy- but it still remained unclear as to whether it was due to the disappointment or the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Without wasting yet another second, you went upstairs and locked yourself in your room, giving yourself some privacy to wipe away your tears.

Downstairs, the silence was still suffocating both Bakugou and Todoroki, their stare were still laying upon the spot where you used to be just a few seconds earlier, they just hadn’t processed your sudden disappearance. They blinked once, then twice, and a third time to make sure they weren’t dreaming and once they were convinced it was very much real, they looked at each other and sighed as if they were, too, deprived of their own energy.

« Bak-… Katsuki, it was my mistake to threaten you with my flames, I apologize. » Todoroki’s tone was soft in comparison to his last statement, a sense of compassion replaced the anger laced in his words.

« I shouldn’t have talked about your shitty dad. » A sentence, which, in Bakugou’s vocabulary echoed to an apology, but with the cruel exception of the forbidden word which begins with an ’s’ and ends with ‘-orry’.

« I assume Y/N is not going to talk to us for a while, and, don’t take it personally but her presence is very much needed. » Bakugou frowned as Todoroki’s words connected to his eardrums, needless to say, he knew he was right but didn’t care enough to admit it and grant him this silent victory.

« I might have an idea, half-and-half, use your shitty quirk to lower the temperature of the house, you know how much she fucking hates cold temperatures. That’s gonna make her move her ass out of the bedroom. » Todoroki only quirked his eyebrows in response while Bakugou was adorning his most victorious grin, he knew this plan meant an automatic win- both of them could handle cold temperatures thanks to their quirks, you on the other one hand, were more fond of warmer temperatures.

Todoroki sighed, perhaps already regretting his choice to follow Bakugou’s antics, but if it meant that he had to play dirty to get you, he was ready to deem himself as the dirtier player in the game. Soon enough, a frigid fog invaded mercilessly the first floor, and your bedroom was the first victim of the unforgiving coldness. Little did you know, this was the beginning of a series of crushing defeats on your end : seeking warmth underneath your blankets? Didn’t work. Blow air on your hands? A total fail. Looking through your boyfriends’ closets to find one of their thick hoodies and wear it? Not the solution you needed to cure the problem.

You were running out of solutions, and that’s when your unconsciousness crept in and murmured suave temptations to your ear : the welcoming warmth of Bakugou and Todoroki’s bodies, their arms wrapped around you like a human cocoon to protect you from the cold temperature. It sounded like a dream, and you had the means to make it real- but at what cost? You roamed around the room, not only to create body warmth by moving, but also to accelerate the train of your thoughts. What was more important? Freezing yourself to death with your pride as an inexistent shield from the cold, or embrace the agonizingly tempting warmth radiating from both of your boyfriends?

The answer to your rhetorical question manifested itself rather quickly- in the blink of an eye, you had already wrapped your hand around the doorknob and raced downstairs towards the personifications of your very own personal heaters under Shouto’s puzzled expression and, in contrast, Katsuki’s triumphing grin.

« Hah? Have you finally decided to show up, princess? » Anyone could have noticed the more-than-obvious obnoxious tone dripping from Bakugou’s words, he glanced over at Todoroki who grinned at him in response, silently thanking him.

« Just keep me warm. » You found a perfect spot right between Katsuki and Shouto on the couch, your knees were brought to your chest, your arms were encompassing your legs- if anything, you were pretty close to looking like a sphere, but you were ready to contort yourself in any position to gather some precious warmth. Eventually, you let out a silent sigh as soon as you felt their respective warmth hit the surface of your skin as a sign of satisfaction.

« I think you forgot the magic word, love. » Shouto teased, his warm index gracing the cold flesh on your shoulder, such a tease.

« Ugh, fine! Keep me warm, please. » You emphasized the pleading word, just enough to make them grin even wider in victory.

« ‘Wasn’t so hard, was it, princess? » You couldn’t exactly tell if you hated or were absolutely enamored with the teasing tone of his voice, but once thing was certain- the grin plastered upon his face was a thing of beauty.

Bakugou, as expected of him, took the lead, or rather, sent a silent challenge in Todoroki’s way which dared him to take the upper hand of the situation. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a lion-like manner, ready to protect what’s his, with the help of his strength you were now sitting on his lap. The grip around your frame didn’t move one bit, not only did he want to provide you as much warmth as his quirk allowed, but he also wanted to maintain control. Your head was laying upon the surface of his shoulder, your face was facing Todoroki who admired you as if he had witnessed the renaissance of Venus under your traits.

« I will help you feel a bit more warm, alright, love? » You hummed in response to Todoroki’s one-sided interrogation.

Another source of warmth was more than welcome. Thus, Shouto wasted no time and placed his hand upon the surface of your cheek, daring to cross Bakugou’s self-claimed territory in the process without any ounce of shame. The amount of space between the two of you had dangerously reduced until totally disappearing which cleared Todoroki’s path on his way to show you just how much he could warm you up. His lids fluttered shut in anticipation, and there it was, the oh so fabulous source of warmth- he planted his lips on yours in perfect harmony. After all, a promise was a promise, correct? Regardless of how it’s executed, correct? That was exactly Shouto’s mindset as his tongue grazed your bottom lip to beg for access to the inside of your mouth, a wish quickly granted which allowed him to spread the warmth of his tongue inside your mouth as his pink muscle met yours which only announced the beginning of the dance of pleasure. Your actions corresponded to his, and his initiatives echoed to yours— soon enough, your tongues were melting in each other’s touch. As much as he wanted to keep this going forever, the way you grabbed his wrist was an indicator that you were starting to lack oxygen. Of course he ended the kiss, but not before he dug his teeth into your lower lip to which you responded with a semi silent whimper.

Bakugou observed the scene from the side with the same smirk gracing his facial features, he would be the worst liar on Earth if he were to say that seeing your mouths collide in harmony wasn’t the epitome of poetry in motion. But who was he to let Shouto get the best of you? Who was he to let Shouto make you whimper first? He craved, no, he needed to make you melt under his touch.

« Want us to make you feel hot, princess? Be careful what you wish for. » This sentence was his final warning before flipping you over on your back, offering him the best position to physically tale the upper hand under Shouto’s amused stare. You looked so pure and yet so sinful at once, a paradox which drove of them crazy as they imagined the most unholy deeds they were going to do to you. Katsuki’s index hooked the fabric of your hoodie (more like his, but it’s just a slight detail which turnt him on even more) before to pull it over your head.

Oh, and what a gorgeous sight to behold— your naked upper body, in all its glory, a body worthy of the most descriptive pages of a novel. He couldn’t help but snicker at the ethereal scenery before his eyes, he knew he was going to devour you and make you his, no matter what.

« Don’t give me those eyes, woman, I fucking told you I was gonna make you feel real hot. You won’t need this shitty hoodie to keep you warm. »

The assault was given once his pearly whites dug into the soft flesh of your neck, reflex kicked, you titled your head to the side to give him more room to play with. It was a succession of biting, licking, biting again until your skin adopted a purplish tone which echoed to a mark of both domination and belonging. Of course, you belonged to him… And Todoroki. Once he was satisfied with his artwork, he licked the abused flesh one last time before smirking to himself as a sign of victory.

You couldn’t expect Todoroki to be left out of the party, after all, you did belong to him too. He pushed Bakugou to the side just enough to bask in the glory of your half-naked form. The gleam in his eyes reflected nothing but pure adoration, he was torn between the will to worship each inch of your body and the tempting option to make your legs weak until you can’t form proper words anymore. Oh, well, both were bound to happen.

« Oi! If you wanna touch her, don’t fucking push me! » Bakugou’s rambling was cut short as soon as Todoroki’s lips crashed on his, the blonde eye’s widened in surprise but he eventually allowed himself to crave to the passion.

« I don’t need your permission to touch what’s mine. » Todoroki whispered against the flesh of your breasts, emphasizing the very last word strategically.

The sight of your hardened nipples caused him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation, just a way to warm up his lips before devouring your flesh. Todoroki wasted no time and took this opportunity to let his tongue grace your left bud, the motions were repetitive and hypnotizing— from circular motions right around your nipple, from vertical licks to sucking motions, each deed was designed for your own pleasure while your whimpers falling free from your lips and the hand stuck at the root of his hair encouraged his actions. Your whimpers were cut short once Bakugou’s lips found yours and dragged you in a tongue-led kiss, and to no one’s surprise, you followed his already established rhythm, but goodness, it was deliciously intoxicating, letting you crave for more. And somehow, the sound of your hushed whimpers created an even more attractive melody.

Now, it was Todoroki’s turn to take advantage of the vacant place left by Bakugou who was now bent on your side which meant that your whole body to discover for the umpteenth time. A trail of kisses left from the valley of your breasts to your lower belly indicated which dangerous way Shouto was bound to take. He took a glance at the liplock share with Katsuki who offered you no rest no matter if you craved for oxygen or not, the same amused grin still plastered upon his facial features, and augmented the temperature just a bit more.

His finger drew an invisible line along the edge of your underwear, a pre-meditated deed which only announced in advance what he was bound to do, he was just one step closer to make your legs crumble under his touch. In a swift motion, fueled by his own personal hunger to satisfy his fantasies, Todoroki got rid of your pants and he could already discern the wet patch adorning the cotton surface of your underwear, what a sight to see. A new trail of kiss was left upon your skin by Shouto, this time, he focused on the inside of your thighs and followed a vertical pattern until reaching the climax of his journey : your already dripping heat.

« Are you already this wet for us, love? How kind of you. » The amused tone which embedded his voice hid a hidden sinful tone, such a contrast, but only Bakugou and you could catch the double-tone.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, mimicked Todoroki’s earlier antics (only to outdo him, his own ego was his sole motivation) and made a victim of your breasts. One lovebite on your neck wasn’t enough, he craved to make you his even more, on every inch of your body. This thought was the reason behind his will to bite the generous flesh of your left breast, which clearly isn’t abused enough to his liking. And so it began once more— biting, licking, biting once more just hard enough to make you whimper in response, suck on your flesh until it becomes purple and has his name written all over it. From the love bite, Katsuki kissed his way until your nipple, the motions of his mouth were strategically chosen to make pure sounds of pleasure fall free from mouth mouth, while his thumb and index were twisting your nipple while following the circular motions of his tongue. The harsh grasp you held onto his blonde hair was only one of the first hints that you were on your way to reach a state of pure bliss, the moans echoing in his head were his favorite hint though.

The sensation of a sharp lick across the fabric of your underwear awakened a new whimper on your end, this time, it was higher which only echoed to a higher level of pleasure. Todoroki’s lips curved into a grin at the sound of it, what a marvel to hear. The fabric which separated your core from Shouto’s lips was seen as a taunt to the latter, but fret not, said taunt was quickly taken care of as soon as he got rid of your underwear, throwing them who-knows-where in the room.

And so the temperature augmented yet again— an experimental lick caused you to bite your lower lip to refrain any moan to escape from your mouth as you closed your eyes in anticipation for pure bliss. Your reaction was the best indicator to Shouto who had found yet another motivation to make you come undone— getting to hear your agonizingly breathtaking whimpers and moans fall in cascade from your lips. Your core was wet, much to Todoroki’s delight, and he could almost hear you calling his name, begging him to eat you as if you were his last dinner on Earth.

His mouth married the shape of your core, his tongue danced beautifully against your folds as if your core had been specifically created to welcome the wonders of his mouth. The licks left by his pink muscle were executed differently in several ways— vertical licks, circular shapes, he based his actions on the sound of your shameless moans and whimpers to predict his next move.

« Shouto, S-Shouto! » Your first begging, which didn’t go unnoticed to both of the protagonists of your very own pleasure.

« So eager, aren’t you, love? » He kissed these words into your skin, words embedded with adoration and love in the process.

Well, there was someone whose name hadn’t been begged, and truth be told, it was getting on his nerves. How dare Shouto have the honor of being begged and not him? Oh, well, he was about to change that right away.

« Open wide, princess, I’ll give you something to fucking beg about. » The same usual smirk accompanied his words, he already knew what was bound to happen, and the knew what effect it would leave on you.

By the time you were busy with Shouto, Bakugou had already taken care of his own clothing by… taking everything off. Isn’t it easier that way? His genetically given large hand stroked tentatively his length, just enough to cause a layer of pre-cum to cover his tip, once he was satisfied with the result, he wasted no time to shove his entire member in your mouth in a swift motion. The warmth of your lips was the most delicate welcome he could’ve asked for, regardless if you were to choke or not, he’d find a way to make you beg his name until it becomes the only thing you’re able to say. Your throat grazed the sensitive tip of his grit, earning you a hushed grunt as a reaction which was a rarity coming from Bakugou. Both of his hands held a harsh grip on your hair, and he used said grip as a level of pressure to thrust himself into your mouth under the mesmerizing sounds of your choked whimpers. It was a scenery of beauty, he was the sole holder of all your attention— you were looking at him through your lashes with pleading eyes, silently begging him to keep going until you were to choke on his member. A silent sign he didn’t miss, he knew you like the back of his hand, after all.

Eventually, Shouto complied to your begs, you wanted more? Oh, you were bound to get more, more precisely, you were bound to have exactly what you deserved. Todoroki and tease were very close to being synonymous, hence why he purposefully used the pad of his thumb to create circulate motions on your sweet bundle of nerves which was the key to make you come undone, and, of course, two of his fingers which had already found a shelter inside your folds while pumping in and out, over and over again, until bringing you to the brim of ecstasy.

Under this new pressure, the need to express your pleasure through moans was almost impossible given the fact that each sound coming out of your mouth was rendered hushed by Bakugou’s length. Your wrapped your hand around his phallus to not only catch some cruelly needed oxygen but also set free all the sounds of pleasure trapped inside you, as soon as your mouth was set free, a pure sound of bliss fell free from your lips. A sound so sinful and addicting at once that both Bakugou and Todoroki couldn’t help but repeat said sound in their head over and over again.

« Oi, princess, I didn’t fucking tell you to stop so keep sucking until I say otherwise, did you fucking get that? » It was a one-sided question, your answer wouldn’t matter anyway.

And there he went again, shoving his member inside your mouth as Bakugou began chasing his own pleasure— if he was careful enough, he could picture the shape of heaven when his lids fluttered shut. This time, his thrusts were harsher, clearly designed to attain his climax. But he wasn’t the only one who was close to reach the seventh sky— the addition of Shouto’s fingers pumping in and out, the oh so right pressure on your sweet of nerves and the precise licks left on your wet folds was nothing short of divine, that divine that it was going to make you reach your orgasm sooner than you thought.

Reflex kicked, your grip on Shouto’s hair became gradually tighter as you felt the knot in your stomach grow more and more until it became out of your control, you rolled your eyes back in ecstasy and the pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes were now rolling down the surface of your cheeks. Through choked sounds, you encouraged Shouto to keep going and going until you could touch heaven by the tip of your fingers. And then heaven came to you, the liberating sensation of floating on a cloud overwhelmed you as you reached your orgasm, manifesting the pure sounds of bliss through the hushed sounds caused by Bakugou’s intrusive length.

« You’re such a good girl, love, you came undone for us. Such a good girl… » The end of his sentence was whispered in marvel against your core, it was a sight he could never get bored of.

His tongue found once more its way to your folds, licking each and every drop of your juices to satisfy his own pleasure. Your taste was his favorite, it was addicting as hell, so addicting that before to swallow said juices, he would always make a mental note of how your cum feels on his tastebuds.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, god-fucking-damnit! » Bakugou’s grunts followed the structure of a crescendo, he threw his head back in pure pleasure— he was so close, so fucking close, he wanted to reach the seventh sky as well.

Todoroki grabbed him by the nape of his neck, his fingers digging right in Katsuki’s flesh, and planted his lips still coated with your juices right upon his. Bakugou could taste your sweet nectar on Shouto’s lips, and perhaps it was the last thing necessary for him to come undone— your taste always had the ability to bring him over the edge, and once more, this time was no exception. Bakugou groaned against Shouto’s lips before breaking the contact between them to share a pure sound of ecstasy of his own and eventually, come undone right in your mouth. A string of the blonde’s cum dripped down from the corner of your mouth, and observing you use your tongue to collect the remaining cum on your chin made Bakugou if he wasn’t going to come undone twice in a row at the sight of this.

« Come on, love, we’re not done yet. » This was the final chapter of all of Shouto’s fantasies, a chapter which was finally bound to take form.

Todoroki snaked his arms around your form to place you right on his lap, once the position was comfortable for the both of you, he placed his length right against your twitching core which was already begging for him to fill you.

« Please, j-just fuck me already… Please… » Another auditive wonder— the sound of you begging was worthy of the most beautiful symphony.

« You asked so nicely, love, who am I to refuse? » A rhetorical question, as expected of Shouto when he led the teasing game.

Shouto filled you instantly, shoving his entire length inside you which caused the unexpected appearance of a moan which you could hardly suppress even by biting your lower lip. An initiative quickly ended by Bakugou’s intervention who tilted your head just enough so he could plant a rough kiss upon your lips in order to prevent you from hushing those sounds of pleasure any longer.

« Don’t be fucking shy, let us hear what you gotta’ say, baby girl. » You looked at Katsuki with pleading eyes, you knew that you were not going to be able to suppress or refrain any of your moans or whimpers, you knew you were bound to become a vocal mess.

Shouto’s hands held a strong grip on your waist, so strong that the tip of his fingers turnt white under the pressure. His rhythm was frantic from the beginning, using the combination of his hips bucking upwards and his arms wrapped around your middle to clash against his testicles. You had the best spot to hear up close and personal the ravishing sounds of bliss coming out of Shouto’s mouth like a broken record. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as a desperate cry for support as his hips were pounding deep inside you until reaching your cervix.

Behind you, Bakugou had already made sure to wet his fingers to prep you. Prep you for what exactly? Oh, well, we all know Bakugou doesn’t handle well being left alone, especially when Todoroki has the advantage of him. The tip of his fingers brushed against your rectum until two of them entered your second hole, he expected this reaction but your moans were ethereal, especially when he was the cause of them. His fingers pumped into your rectum just enough for you to get used to the stretch and to the knew (and double) sensation.

« Be a good fucking girl for daddy and let him fuck you from behind, yeah? » He studied your facial expression and the irregular pattern of your breaths to know whether or not you were fond of his new antics, to which you confirmed his doubts by whispering an almost inaudible « Y-Yes, daddy… »

Nonetheless, the elongated moan you let out in his favor once his fingers reached a bit deeper in your rectum was enough for him to get the clue and replace the feeling of his index and middle finger with the width of his length. A pure sound of pleasure with his name written all over it, if you were to ask Bakugou, he would tell you right away that this is what heaven felt like.

« I-I’m going to cum, I can’t-… » Shouto’s hot breath crashed against your equally as hot skin, it became impossible for him to suppress his grunts any longer.

Bakugou mirrored his pace which had suddenly quickened under the pressure erupting in his lower belly, he could already touch the clouds of the seventh sky, and you were the key to unlocking the divine skies of heaven.

« Fuck… Fuck, I’m close too. » Their grunts matched in unison under the melody of your repetitive moans caused by the double pressure.

With one last thrust from both protagonist, you felt two rushes of hot liquids invade your insides as a moan signed their orgasm. That was it, they came undone and touched heaven as they came inside of you, all the pent up pressure in their abdomen had been set free for your greatest pleasure. You rolled your head back on Katsuki’s shoulder, oxygen had become a rarity under the frantic thrusts of the two newfound victims of passion. Once your lungs felt full again, you released an elongated sigh which drained all of your strength in the process.

Bakugou pulled out first, causing you to whimper at the sudden sensation of vacuity replacing the ever so addictive sensation of being filled by the man who held the keys to your heart. As he pulled out, his arms snaked around your middle and he dragged you with him, hot breaths crashing against your blazing skin. Katsuki put your head over his chest while you mustered up the last bits of vigor you could invoke to find shelter in his comforting embrace.

As soon as Shouto evened his breathing pattern, he felt the urge to join you and Katsuki— laying by your side, his arms draped over your waist, he felt at peace with the two most important people in his life, the true definition of perfection to him. Silence came back again, but this time it was comforting, a silence which held all the fierceness of your feelings for one another. A few kisses were planted here and there on your skin as a silent way to show gratitude, but all three of you were absolutely drained because of passion.

« If you’re still feeling cold, I know a fucking way or two to fix this shitty problem, princess. »

[akihiko-sanada]

BRO, WHY’D YOU LIKE YUKICHIE SO MUCH??

Ok first of all, bro,,, B R O, bro ilysm being able to infodump like this means so much to me for real. And second of all, this is gonna be very bullet point-e since I can't string a coherent sentence together to save my life. LET'S BEGIN:

Tropes and dichotomies

Yukichie has a bunch of romantic tropes, including but not limited to:

-Beautiful and popular genius falls for airhead jock outcast.

-Childhood best friends to lovers.

-Two girls fall in love but one girl's close minded parents (yukikos) disapprove and kick her out so she suddenly moves in with chie (this definitely happened i'm sure of it).

Now the dichotomies:

Fire and ice: I feel like I don't even have to explain why this is romantic so I'm just gonna jump straight into the evidence: Yukiko is the teammate with Agi and Chie is the one with Bufu, one of Yukiko’s themes is called “Snowflakes” and there's also the twin dragons special move.

Sun and moon: Might be a stretch but I really do think that Yukiko is the moon, silent, beautiful and graceful while Chie is the sun, energetic, bright and hot to the touch.

Shadows

Shadow Chie reveals that Chie developed an inferiority complex from constantly comparing herself to Yukiko (not surprising but aw :(), and part of this is her not feeling worthy of Yukiko and her company, bUT MEANWHILE YUKIKO HAS THE OPPOSITE PROBLEM WHERE SHE RELIES TOO MUCH ON CHIE,,, like shadow Yukiko literally says says to Chie “Chies my prince, she's a strong prince, or at least she was”, she hoped and relied on Chie to save her from having to take over the inn and having to stay in Inaba,,,,. ALSO WHEN SHADOW YUKIKO'S HEALTH IS LOW SHE SUMMONS A PRINCE SHADOW WTF, WTF WTF WTF, SHE STRAIGHT UP SUMMONS HER PRINCE, CHIE, WHEN SHE’S MOST VULNERABLE????? HELP???

And speaking of shadows, Chie is pretty calm when it comes to rescuing people from the TV world except for Yukiko, she goes absolutely APESHIT, says "You don't know SHIT about how I feel! Yukiko might DIE from this, for crying out loud! I'm going, and that's that!" before running HEADFIRST INTO A MONSTER INFESTED PALACE WITHOUT A PERSONA OF HER OWN,, TRUE LOVE RIGHT THERE BABY. She also almost single handedly beats up a whole ass police station for even suggesting that Yukiko was involved in the murders.

Color theory

I'm a huge rwby fan so colors is definitely gonna have its own section IFSFNS. Anyways, in color theory, colors that are on opposite sides of the color wheel are considered complementary colors, and guess what the most used example for this? Green and red! Green and red always pop out when they're next to each other, and color is very important in p4 (for various reasons but a big example is how all the students at school wear dull colors except for the investigation team, they're just full on power rangers), so id like to think that making Yukiko’s and Chie’s colors the prime example of complementary colors was something intentional made to remind you of how well they work together.

Also: Chie “wow yukiko red looks really good on you” yukiko, twirling her hair “haha thanks do you mind if i wear it for the rest of my life-”. Also side note I’m 100% sure that Rio’s favourite color is red because it reminds her of Hamuko <3.

Comphet and obliviousness

It's very obvious that like, everyone’s in the investigation team suffers from comphet, especially considering their reaction to Kanji coming out (which is, something), but I'm only gonna talk about yukichies; first of all this whole scene screams of comphet, no one just gushes about their friend THAT much:

Also, Chie disapproves of all of Yukiko's suitors cause she's subconsciously jealous, Chie is 100% a baby lesbian cause shes literally like: “haha im not a lesbian, I just cut my hair short and mostly hang out with guys because then I’ll be more masculine and men like girls so-aw shit”.

Also, Inaba is a breeding ground for comphet because it's a rural town in the middle of nowhere in a town where most of the popuñation is old so,,,yeah,,,.Yukiko feels like her only option in life is to take over the Amagi inn and follow in her family's footsteps, which would in turn be like rotting away in Inaba, so I like to think that the Amagi inn is some sort of metaphor for how being yourself is key even though it can disappoint your parents by making you stray from the path they paved for you, but that’s still an important step to take to become a better person and being true to yourself. Now that isn't very different from coming out now is it?

Official art and others

-Yukiko’s and Chie’s designs inspired Tomoe Tachibana and Maria Torres from Trauma Team and they’re hella gay

-Yukiko and Chie are next to each other or side eyeing each other when the other isn't looking in 99% of the official art they're in, I wonder why that is-. Also if  you look through Chie’s gallery 90% of her photos include Yukiko and vice versa.

-Everyone in Inaba knows that Chie and Yukiko are practically dating cause some bullies literally threaten Chie with hurting Yukiko saying stuff like “that precious Yukiko-san of yours” and “So don't you care about what happens to your loved ones” LIKE HELLO???

-Chies social link? oh you mean the yukichie social link right? No but seriously like Chies social link revolves around Yukiko NANFFGGW

-Yukiko’s theme in p4u is “princess Amagi” and shadow Yukiko calls Chie her prince, coincidence? ABSOLUTELY NOT. 

Fun headcanons and random stuff

-Chie definitely short circuited for a full ten seconds when she saw Yukiko in a yukata for the first time

-I'm sure that when the investigation team meets up like 20 years after p4 they'll be like “wait Yukiko you've been living with Chie for years?? did you get married?” Yukiko and Chie who haven't even started dating officially “no?? what are you talking about- WAIT.”

-Yukiko and Chie: *adopt three cats and a dog and call them their children*, also yukichie “we’re just really good friends :)))”

-Yukiko and Chie definitely made out with each other a couple of times using the excuse of “were practising for when we have boyfriends”

In conclusion, yukiko and chie have the type of love where they've known each other for so long and care for each other so deeply and passionately that they don't need to search for a significant other because deep down they've always known they were each others. They've always pictured the other in their life from beginning to end but have yet to put together that they want to be in each others life romantically because of comphet and just, never really seeing each other as an option because they've just always been friends, nothing more nothing less. Thank you for coming to my ted talk I hope I gave you yukichie brainrot <3