#one day i will be able to reply to an ask normally without going blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

[almostyours]

absolutely LOVE hiraeth and everything about them! their lore has me so invested and i love how you have and talk about it! quick question if you don’t mind, but how did you come up with hiraeth’s lore? i’m currently working on a group and their lore so i would love some advice/tips from the loremaster themselves! have a good day/night!

aaaaaaa!  u have no idea how happy this ask makes me because not only is their lore is my pride and joy,  but it just makes me soooo happy to know that someone is enjoying my group!  :D  also,  loremaster?  that made me giggle and kick my feet,  not gonna lie...  and of course i wouldn’t mind,  it actually flatters me that ur asking me.  :)  i’ll put all the yapping under a read more so i don’t disturb the dash,  but if you have more questions or an @ to drop  (because i need to know what u are cooking),  just let me know,  either in dms or here.

before i start,  i just want to mention  (and sorry if i sound like a broken record to those who skim through my yapping posts)  that i created hiraeth because a friend and i thought it’d be fun to throw our ship into an idol au.  you could say that hiraeth and their lore grew from that ship,  as we thought it would be fun if there was a kind of “call and response” theory between the two groups.  while this didn't really need to be said,  some of hiraeth’s essence definitely comes from the little world we built together.

finding a group name that fit was essential,  i think.  when my friend and i started brainstorming,  i only had a rough idea of what i wanted,  which was a mix of red velvet,  loona,  dreamcatcher,  exo,  and aespa.  i wanted angels!  garden of eden!  magical girls!  a group that was deemed as a cult!  some horror!  the concept of the two sides of the same coin!   more than what meets the eye!  but funny enough,  i didn’t really see the whole picture until i finally settled on the name hiraeth.  the word means a homesickness for a feeling you can’t return to,  a feeling that maybe never was.  that’s when i realized i wanted hiraeth to capture not exactly my initial ideas,  but i wanted the meaning to actually make sense,  so my idea started to expand until i finally settled into what i have now.  and i’m sure my ideas will keep expanding as time goes on!

i was also inspired by my two ults,  red velvet and loona,  especially loona’s unit yyxy.  and,  yes,  i 100% admit i was deep in those loonaverse reddits trying to get a feel for what i wanted because i wanted something like that.  my lore started out very similar to theirs,  just with some changes because who was going to check me!  only my friend and i knew about the group so i could totally get away with it!  but,  as some may know,  i got really attached to the idea of them and the potential of their lore,  and as time went on and i got a clearer idea of what i wanted  (thanks to pinterest,  video games,  photography/photoshoots,  books,  tiktok edits,  music,  my ship,  and even the bible and no i'm not joking),  their lore slowly started to evolve into whatever i have going on.  don’t be harsh on urself if ur “base” idea isn’t as developed as u'd like or if it’s similar to something ur taking inspiration from,  u just need to let the creative juices do their thing,  even if it takes time. 

another tip:  always write down ur ideas,  and if something makes u think,  “oh! this would fit into their lore!”  immediately jot it down,  so u can look back at it and find a way to work it in.  for example,   hiraeth is a little bit of everything i’ve enjoyed or found interesting in literally everywhere,  even if it has nothing to do with the idol scene or the girls themselves—  let it be a quote or a video game arc or even just a single picture.  everything is an inspiration if u look close enough.

now,  poppy,  kaia,  and yvan are characters i’m really attached to  (especially poppy)  since they’ve been with me for a very long time.  so,  i thought it’d be really fun if their lore actually mirrored their actual personalities and struggles,  like a subtle reflection of their thoughts,  actions,  pasts,  secrets,  and their current life that is being showcased to everyone in the eyes of an overly-exaggerated visage of themselves.  obviously,  the lore is really extra and not literal but their actual essence is there,  you know?  almost as if they are building up their own fantasy book with themselves as main characters!  their fans can’t pick up on any of this because they don’t know the girls deeply,  but…  little spoiler,  i guess?  i don’t know if this makes sense so i will show some little examples below:

summer realizes that she,  spring,  and winter can almost become god-like once they begin to "sin,"  leading them down a path she believes is "better" for them.  but she doesn’t fully see that some paths might not be the best,  as their sins  (especially hers)  cast a shadow over them,  keeping her from thinking it all through and sometimes getting them in trouble—on the other hand,  kaia sees that she and her members could achieve so much more once nari is out of the picture.  as their leader,  she earns their trust by guiding them to see beyond the empty promises of an abusive management that didn’t care for them the way she did.  yet,  they’re still being held back as a sense of guilt looms over them and their careers,  making every move feel risky.  this burden falls the heaviest on kaia,  who made a drastic choice for the sake of herself and her members.

spring feels stuck,  with no real desire to “bloom” after things went wrong the first time she “sinned.”  she feels the urge to make a change and stir the ship,  but hesitates to the point of doing nothing—versus poppy,  who feels trapped as an idol facing high expectations,  especially as a chronically ill woman carrying deep trauma.  though she doesn’t particularly like being in the spotlight,  she remains in the “safe” zone because it feels like the only secure option,  and it is because she does a really good job at her job because if she’s going to be forced to do something,  then she’s going to be the best at it. 

winter treats everything as a joke,  believing that everything will always go their way because they’ve been convinced that they’re the "center of the universe."  that is,  until spring’s warmth reaches them,  revealing that not everything is perfect and that there’s more to life outside their own bubble—versus yvan,  whose high popularity and top-tier status changed how they see the world.  however,  yvan has been learning that things won’t always go their way,  and that support won’t always be there.  poppy herself is a reminder that someone “better” will always be around,  even if many hold yvan higher than her.  random but i loooooooove their relationship because it’s a whole  always an angel,  never a god  situation.

the  ‘aengel cult’  started when the angels left behind their old doctrines,  preaching  individuality,  self-love,  and self-expression instead of sharing words that didn’t resonate within themselves—versus hiraeth’s fans,  who are deemed a cult because of their intense loyalty towards them,  but also because of how fucking defensive they are towards the aes because the music,  the concept,  their vibes,  and the girls themselves are TWE GOOD not to defend!  they are not as insane as *rmys / bl*nks / st*ys though…  they are pretty funny and just don’t take anything seriously but when someone calls The Never Has Flopped Group a Flop…

and yes,  i know.  that is really fucking extra and literally this is something u literally didn't ask,  but that’s what makes creating lore fun!  be extra!!!!!!!  do ur own little twist if that’s what u want!!!!!  don’t limit yourself and overthink it,  friend!  it’s your group and your lore,  so have some fun and do whatever you want  <3 

ALSO A LITTLE REMINDER!  it literally took me a year to feel content with their lore,  so don’t rush it.  the creative juices will come to u eventually.  :)

WHEN U DROP UR GROUP LET ME KNOW PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!  i really hope all this yapping made sense and that it helped u.  :)  if not i’m really sorry……………..  🙏

[m1d-45]

Asking The Important Questions and Answering:

-you still alive everybuddy?

~Yes, yours truly is alive, a year older for some time now already and suffering BECAUSE I'M MOVING WITHIN 2024!

-freshest news?

~i became an uncle/aunt for the 8th time, his name is (blank) and i'm VIBRATING! He's so tiny! And blonde and has these BIG eyes i wanna squish them! We're giving the parents a bit of themselves time but gosh i wanna gush over the wittle baby in person and not over pictures!

Anyways, do the people of teyvat celebrate babies?

We're celebrating in a few weeks!

-🥘Stew

waves!!!

minor spoilers for sumeru + natlan AQ, i use natlano instead of “” natlanese “”

1) i am still alive!!! somehow!!! however comma,

i am in college now!!! holy shit!!! and it has been HELL on my schedule be so fucking fr- i’m taking online classes and with the adhd you can imagine how that’s going (hint : bad). i’ve also just had a bunch of trouble that has killed my motivation (lotta personal stuff blah blah) and i’ve been falling back to less taxing blurbs rather than anything actually post-able. also as such i just have Not had the energy to answer asks,, i read them all and i love you everyone who sends them but i don’t wanna reply with the equivalent of “i ain’t reading that but good for you. or sorry that happened.” yk?

2) congrats on the new relative!!!! baby kids are WILD and i wish them good health.

for me… well, i’m finally getting a hold on things, and i can feel that i have more energy again, which i’m really excited about!! i’ve had some ideas SLOW COOKING for MONTHS that im very excited to serve!!! not really news though, just a Development,,,

(​yes it took me like 2.5 months to get a grip on things. it’s the autism. shhhhh)

for actual news.. uh, i learned that there’s a 10$ fee for getting locked out of your dorm! uhhh i have the object permanence of a d6, how obvious is it

3) i think like.. remembering that teyvat still uses oil lamps, of course they’re happy about children!!! different nations show it in different ways, though.

mondstadt is a very “it takes a village” city, so celebrations focus on allowing the parent to recover and preparing for their new life. lotta time off work and pages of advice, you know?

if mond is the present, liyue is the future. lotta focus on practices for good health — that vary between families, ranging from calming teas for the parent to necklaces with herbs tucked in the pendant for the child.

inazuma is… inazuma. post-decree lifting, though, things somewhat go back to normal adjacent. like liyue, it’s about a prosperous future, but in non physical forms. intangible blessing and faith over physical jade beads, you know?

the forests of sumeru are run by the akedemiya. wisdom does not take breaks, and neither should you. one brief event close after the birth is enough — the closest to modern baby showers. gifts given, the clock strikes, and that’s about it.

the deserts, however, follow mondstadt’s lead, especially in places such as aaru village. children are very communal, and even those without biological children are often parental figures. health for the parent while the child is raised with the others, the best childcare this side of the chasm.

fontaine is extravagant. for some of the richer families, lady furina herself would come down and personally wish the child well. lotta impractical, flashy gifts given over a too many days. it’s a social event, for those around the new family just as much as it is the child themself.

natlan is also very aggressively communal. nobody fights alone, after all, no matter the shape of their battle. celebrations consist of the tribe giving practical gifts, anything from clothes and food to a promise to be there when needed. specific preferences switch between the tribes — the people of the springs someone give seashell necklaces for good luck, the scions of the canopy a set of soft gloves, suitable for new skin while also sturdy enough to climb ropes with. natlano treat the parent the best, i think.

snezhnaya is small, private. close family and friends only, whispered prayers and tight, worried hugs. the everwinter is not kind, so it is made up for with the embers of what was once a tight knit community. they cannot give what they once could, cannot sing and knit and give blankets with blessings woven into the fabric, but they do what they can. they huddle around the fire, hoping against hope.

[persephone-plasmids]

Trying

A Danse and Nora fic

[Part 1]

[Read on AO3]

Danse woke up before the sun, his chest heavy with the memories of the night before. Nora had kissed him. But she’d also been drunk, so it hadn’t counted.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from reliving the moment in his mind over and over again. He’d hardly slept as he wondered what was worse: Nora remembering the kiss and regretting it, or forgetting about it and the two of them never addressing it again. He wasn’t sure what he could even hope for if she did remember. She’d never reciprocate his feelings. And he couldn’t fault her for that. He was a Synth. An abomination.

Danse scowled up at the ceiling before rolling out of bed, pulling his boots on, and leaving the partially destroyed house in Sanctuary where he now stayed. The settlement had turned into a place for all of Nora’s strays to reside; himself included.

Fog hung heavily in the early morning air as Danse began his normal jog around the perimeter of the settlement. He’d run up the rocky hills to make sure no Raiders had taken up residence overnight then splash through the river a few times to cool himself down before making the jog up the hill to the entrance of Vault 111.

Today, the sight of the large metal vault entrance only made his stomach turn. It reminded him of his interaction with Nora the day before. She’d been grieving the loss of her husband. She’d gotten drunk. And she’d kissed him.

Had he taken advantage of her compromised state? He tried to assure himself that he hadn’t. He’d pushed her away. He’d been the one to stop things before they went further. But he also couldn’t deny that he’d kissed her back. That he’d enjoyed kissing her back. And he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t spent the entire rest of the evening replaying the kiss in extreme detail, imagining what it could have been like if it had gone further.

Danse shook his head, ashamed at his own thoughts as he jogged back down the hill to Sanctuary.

The sun was beginning to melt away the heavy fog and by the time Danse had showered and donned his Brotherhood jumpsuit for the day, the haze was nothing but a distant memory.

There’s no avoiding it forever. I’ve got to go check on Nora, Danse thought to himself as he exited his home and stepped out into the streets of Sanctuary. Settlers were just starting to make their way to their assigned tasks for the day. Some held rifles to guard the perimeter while others grabbed gardening tools. Danse rolled his eyes as Hancock stumbled through the streets with a dazed smile on his face.

“Just getting in, Hancock?” Danse asked, the disapproval heavy in his voice.

“It’s my duty as mayor of Goodneighbor to check on my citizens every now and then,” Hancock replied, the lazy smile still on his scarred features.

“Funny how it’s only the patrons in The Third Rail you seem to check on,” Danse answered.

He hadn’t intended on harassing the Ghoul today. In all honesty, he was trying to be better. Mostly for Nora’s sake, but also because of his own revelation that he wasn’t as purely human as he’d always thought. Danse hated being a hypocrite. But purging his deeply ingrained prejudices from his mind was proving much more difficult than he wanted to admit.

“It’s not my fault I know how to have a good time, Danse,” Hancock said. “If you ever want to loosen the leash Maxson put on you, you’re welcome to join us.”

Danse shook his head at the Ghoul but didn’t respond. He knew he wouldn’t have anything kind to say. Instead, he made his way to Nora’s house, ignoring the stinging reminder from Hancock that he was no longer a member of the Brotherhood.

Standing in front of the door to Nora’s home, Danse squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and knocked. His body told him he needed to leave immediately, because whether or not she remembered the kiss, this interaction would be painful. Seeing her would remind him just how incredible it felt to kiss her… and that he couldn’t do it again. But he didn’t run. He stayed right where he was.

His heart hammered in his chest as the door knob turned, but it wasn’t Nora who greeted him. Instead, Deacon stood in the doorway wearing Nora’s old flowery apron over his usual T-shirt and jeans, raising his ginger eyebrows behind his sunglasses.

“Morning sunshine,” the spy said with a grin.

“Deacon?” Danse asked, his confusion slowly turning to anger as it always seemed to. He needed to work on that. “What are you doing in Nora’s house this early?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, soldier?” Deacon asked. “But a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Danse set his jaw firmly as he stared at the man in front of him. He was already calculating how much physical damage it would do if he punched Deacon right then and there. The spy would live. But Nora would never forgive Danse. So he refrained.

“Oh man, I can see all those little Brotherhood cogs turning in your brain. It would be adorable if it wasn’t so sad,” Deacon said with a laugh. “At ease, soldier. I was totally kidding. Just wanted to get a rise out of you. I didn’t realize it would be quite so effective.”

Danse could hear the laughter in Deacon’s voice, but it was muted by the sound of his own blood rushing through his body.

He definitely needed to work on his anger management skills.

“Where is Nora?” Danse asked simply, refusing to acknowledge just how close he’d been to getting into a physical altercation with Deacon.

Danse was usually close to getting into a fight with Deacon, but the idea that the spy had slept with Nora was definitely the thing that would have pushed him over the edge… had it been true.

“I feel like out of the two of us, you’re the one who should know she headed over to the Prydwyn before dawn,” Deacon answered, turning around and heading back into Nora’s kitchen without another look in Danse’s direction.

The Paladin followed the spy and perched on one of the barstools at the counter.

Deacon, still wearing the flowery apron, was stirring mirelurk eggs in a frying pan.

“Nora went to the Prydwyn?” Danse asked, his mind trying to play catch up. “Why?”

“Personally, I don’t think she needs to keep things friendly with the Brotherhood of Bigots anymore now that The Institute is destroyed, but she said something about an open line of communication between the factions and blah, blah, blah.” Deacon shook his head. “Maxson said he wanted to meet with her about something or other. Probably wants to start a fun petition forbidding Ghouls from speaking or something.”

“Maxson asked for her?” Danse repeated. This gave him pause.

There was a time when Danse had worshipped Maxson. He’d thought the man could do no wrong. That was, of course, until Maxson had wanted him killed for being a Synth. Danse could understand the difficult position Maxson had been placed in, but after their years of friendship, he still had a hard time with just how quickly the Elder had turned on him.

He also saw the way Maxson looked at Nora when Danse had still been allowed aboard the Prydwyn. The Elder was young and Nora was beautiful. It only made sense that he’d look at her the way he did. But Danse didn’t like it, even though he was fairly certain the only reason he was still alive was because Nora had been the one to convince Maxson to spare him. Danse wasn’t sure anyone else could have swayed the Elder the way she did.

“Do I sense a love triangle? Because you know I love some juicy gossip,” Deacon said, grinning over at the Paladin and plopping some eggs onto a plate for him.

“That’s inappropriate, civilian,” Danse said, staring at the eggs in front of him and wondering why on earth Deacon would ever make him food. They hated each other.

“Hate to break it to you, tin can, but you’re a civilian now too,” Deacon said, taking a seat beside Danse with his own plate of eggs.

“You and I are not the same,” Danse emphasized, taking a bite out of the eggs. They were surprisingly good.

“You’re completely right,” Deacon agreed, though Danse could tell from his tone that he wasn’t going to like what came next. “I’ve been able to let go of my bigoted ways, while you still look at Hancock and Valentine like they’re Mirelurk scat on your boot.”

“That’s…” Danse began, but he didn’t know what to really say. Deacon wasn’t wrong. Danse wasn’t doing a great job of changing his deeply ingrained beliefs.

“Admitting you have a problem is the first step, champ,” Deacon said, with a soft pat on Danse’s shoulder.

It would have been a kind gesture, if the spy hadn’t immediately snorted from trying to hold back his laughter.

“I’m… trying,” Danse managed to say, even if it felt like injecting a Stimpack directly into his temple to utter the words.

Deacon glanced over at Danse for a moment, but it was hard for the Paladin to read his expression behind the sunglasses. He had to remind himself that this was probably the reason the spy always wore them.

“A good first step would be to actually spend some time with the people you hate,” Deacon offered, being surprisingly helpful. “You might find that you actually have some fun with Hancock. Plus, you and Valentine are a bit more alike than you might think. He’s a giant stick in the mud too.”

Danse huffed under his breath and simply said, “Noted,” before taking another bite of eggs.

The two men chewed in silence for a moment before the front door opened and Nora strode in wearing the all-black Brotherhood of Steel jumpsuit reserved for high-ranking officials.

Danse’s eyes involuntarily roamed over just how perfectly the jumpsuit fit her curves, though he immediately hated himself for the very visceral reaction the image gave him.

“Deacon Marie Jones! What are you doing in my apron?” Nora asked dramatically, walking up behind the spy and wrapping her arms around him in a familiar embrace.

This did nothing to lessen Danse’s animosity towards the spy.

“Your middle name is Marie?” Danse asked.

“I just make up names for him,” Nora replied. “Since he won’t tell anyone his real name.”

Deacon leaned backward into Nora’s embrace as she held him tightly before finally releasing him. Danse hated how casual their physical contact was. She wasn’t like that with the Paladin.

“I thought we agreed the apron looks better on me,” Deacon said.

“Everything looks better on you, Deacon,” Nora agreed with a laugh, walking over to the frying pan and scooping a few eggs for herself. “I bet even this ridiculous black jumpsuit would look better on you.”

Danse refrained from pointing out how false that statement was.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone look so good in a jumpsuit before.

“Give yourself some credit, Charmer,” Deacon said, his voice as smooth as ever. “There are only so many people who can pull off a dog collar.”

“It’s not a dog collar,” Danse mumbled, finding himself irrationally annoyed by the comment.

Nora’s lips quirked up into a grin as she set her plate down and walked over to Danse. The Paladin swiveled in his barstool to face her but he didn’t anticipate just how close she’d get to him. Nora walked right up to Danse, positioning herself between his knees as she grinned down at him.

Danse swallowed hard as his dark eyes met hers. She took one finger and hooked it under the metal ring at the neck of Danse’s Brotherhood uniform and gave it a soft tug. She didn’t manage to pull him closer from his sitting position, but it did cause her to take another step closer to him, now standing squarely between his thighs.

“What exactly would you call it then, Paladin?” Nora asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

Danse felt like his heart might actually beat out of his chest as he stared up at her. She still had a firm grasp on the clasp at his neck and he worried she’d be able to visibly see the nervous way he swallowed.

“It’s… It’s an attachment for the Power Armor,” he managed to choke out.

He hated that Deacon was here to witness just how easily Nora could set him off balance.

“I guess your big brown puppy dog eyes just make the term ‘dog collar’ feel more fitting,” Nora answered with a smirk.

He could feel the heat of her hips against his thighs but tried with every fiber of his being to ignore it. Their close proximity was only making it more difficult for him to focus.

Thankfully, Nora released her grasp on the metal ring and stepped back around the counter to retrieve her eggs. “Thanks for the breakfast, Deeks,” Nora said casually, as if she hadn’t just upended Danse’s entire world.

“Just paying off my debt to society,” Deacon said, finishing his own plate off and rinsing it in the sink. “I should have never suggested that game of strip poker.”

Danse’s eyes widened at this comment but Nora just shook her head with a laugh.

“He bet me that I couldn’t convince a Diamond City guard to give me their uniform.”

“I didn’t take into account that she wouldn’t use stealth to get what she wanted,” Deacon said with a scowl. “I still think it’s cheating if you use your feminine wiles.”

“You’re just mad that you have to make me breakfast every Tuesday for a month,” Nora said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Deacon shook his head and grinned. “Well I’m off to go start some rumors around Diamond City that Piper is actually a Ghoul. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll need it,” Nora replied before the spy disappeared, leaving her and Danse alone.

Danse took a deep breath, wondering if he wanted to come right out and ask Nora if she remembered what had happened the night before, or if it would be better to just ignore it.

He decided on the coward’s way out.

“What did Maxson want?” Danse asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Ugh, that man,” Nora began, exasperation heavy in her voice. “He wanted to try to convince me to pledge my exclusive loyalty to the Brotherhood again. But I told him, for the millionth time, I’m not going to abandon The Railroad or The Minutemen. There’s no reason we can’t all play nice.”

“I’m sure he loved that,” Danse answered, a genuine smile now playing on his lips.

“He threw a bit of a tantrum,” Nora agreed. “Luckily no one was around to see it. He had me meet him in his private quarters this time.”

Danse raised an eyebrow, still trying to pretend like he wasn’t incredibly interested in this particular point. “Oh?”

“I think he thought it might intimidate me if we were alone,” Nora laughed. “He poured me a drink, stood in front of his Brotherhood of Steel flag, and tried to look super intimidating.”

“And?”

“And it didn’t work,” Nora said, giving Danse one of the smiles that made her eyes crinkle in the corners while his heart melted into a puddle inside of him. “My affection isn’t that easily swayed.”

“Of course,” Danse responded simply.

He could feel Nora’s eyes on him as he looked back down at his now empty plate. He was running out of reasons to be in her kitchen but he wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

“How are you feeling?” Danse began cautiously. “Do you have a headache from that bourbon last night?”

That was casual, right? That was something a totally normal friend would say whether or not they’d kissed the night before… wasn’t it?

“I had a bit of a headache this morning,” Nora began. She was pushing the eggs around on her plate with her fork but not taking a bite. Her eyes were no longer on Danse; now she seemed laser focused on the food in front of her. “I told you I wasn’t that drunk.”

Danse’s cheeks instantly flushed at her words.

She remembered.

She remembered and she really was lucid enough to know that she was kissing him.

What did that mean? Did he ask her about it? Did he ask if she regretted it or did he even dare to hope that she actually somehow felt something for him other than friendship or fondness?

“You can hold your liquor well,” was all the Paladin said, also staring intently at his own plate.

If anyone had walked by the scene in the kitchen, they’d think the two were Synths whose recall codes had been read to them.

The silence between them pressed on for a few moments before Nora softly cleared her throat.

“Listen, Danse… I’m sorry about what happened. You were totally right that I wasn’t thinking straight and… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Danse felt his entire chest tighten at her words.

She regretted it. She wished it hadn’t happened. He’d made her uncomfortable.

And now that he knew she remembered everything, he felt even worse for kissing her back. What could she possibly think of him now? That he was just like the rest of the Wastelanders; ready to take advantage of an inebriated woman at the drop of a hat?

What did he say to make this better?

“I’m… I shouldn’t have… engaged,” he said quietly. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Danse had never been good with things like emotions. Synth or not, talking about his feelings wasn’t something he ever thought he’d be comfortable with.

Danse dared a glance up at Nora who was still looking down at her plate. She was frowning with something like disappointment in her eyes.

“I should probably get changed out of this jumpsuit,” she said after another moment of awkward silence. “Preston has a place nearby that he wants me to check out to set up a possible settlement.”

“Of course,” Danse responded, a bit too quickly. “I’ve got some work to do on my power armor.”

Nora nodded as Danse stood up and made his way towards the door.

Before he touched the handle, he heard Nora’s voice, soft and hesitant.

“Would you… want to come with me?”

[ginazmemeoir]

Bhaiyyaaaa story plej

here you go. it's about how sibling rivalry leads to slavery, gambling/betting can indeed destroy your life, and following what people say by the word is indeed a good thing cause words be sneaky.

yes this is the story of Garuda, the Emperor of Birds, King of Eagles, Destroyer of snakes and poison, Vahana of Vishnu.

So we start with Kadru and Vinata. Both sisters, and both married to Rishi Kashyap along with their 21 other sisters. And both of these, were involved in a bitter rivalry. The kind of rivalry where you ruin your sister's date cause she used your lipstick without asking you, and then the other sister shreds your PhD thesis. This is the shit I'm talking about.

And then one day they got into a typical desi aunty squabble : who's children are better? THEY WEREN'T EVEN PREGNANT THEN. So Kadru asks Kashyap for 100 children, sparkling like molten gold, draconic in features blah blah blah basically she asked for snakes, or nagas as children. All nagas in the world are her children. Vinata on the other hand asked for 2 children, both mightier than Kadru's children. Kadru laid 100 eggs, and Vinata laid 2. (WHY DID THEY LAY EGGS. WHY?)

Anywho Kadru's eggs hatched pretty soon, and her thousand children sprang forth. These included Ananta or Sheshanag, the thousand headed snake which controls the flow of time, on whose hoods the earth stands and on whose coils Vishnu rests; Takshaka, the Second Naga King, who poisoned Arjuna's grandson Parikshit; and Vasuki, the Third Naga King, who is coiled around Shiva's neck and whose daughters Uloopi and Sulochana were married to Arjuna and Meghanad respectively. So you can guess Kadru's children were pretty legendary. Meanwhile Vinata's egg were just... there. They didn't hatch. They didn't glow. You couldn't make an omelet out of them because they were the size of a car or something like that. So Vinata grew restless and cracked an egg open one day, and out came Aruna, the gender fluid god of dawn (you might also know them as Usha, the goddess of dawn). And they were EXTREMELY strong and angry and had no body from the waist down, because they were born before their time. So they cursed Vinata, saying she would be enslaved someday (sheesh. cold).

And the fated day came during a holiday. Kadru and Vinata were taking a walk down the beach when they saw Ucchaishravas, the King of Horses. He also breathes fire, can fly, is as white as moonlight, has ten heads, and can eat meat. Vinata looked at him and said, "Just look at him, I bet he's shinier than all the pearls and moons" and Kadru, in her normal behaviour and contradicted her by saying, "Nah bitch, look over there, he has a black strand in his tail." Vinata obviously said no to which Kadru said, "Wanna bet? Loser and her children would be slaves to the other for eternity." And so in such high risk situations - you say yes even though you know your sister's a dirty cheater. Kadru knew she had lied, and also knew she couldn't lose, so she ordered her children to coil themselves around Ucchaishravas' tail to make it look black, to which many replied "Nah mama ya big liar" to which Kadru replied "Nah you ungrateful brats I curse you to be burnt alive in the future with your entire subspecies". The rest of them got in line pretty easily then.

Both of them came the second day, and obviously. Ucchraivas' tail hair was black since the snakes were coiled around it. And poor poor Vinata was reduced to Kadru and her children's slave. And her son, Garuda, a half man-half eagle, was born into slavery.

Garuda hated the way the snakes treated him and his momma. One incident includes a teenage Garuda (big as a mountain now) carrying all the snakes on his back and flying across the ocean, while Kadru sat on his momma's back as she swam. In a fit of rage, he flew too close to the sun in an attempt to kill all snakes by burning them. Kadru immediately prayed to Indra, King of Gods and god of rain and thunder, who has always been a friend of the nagas, to protect them, and so he covered the sky with dense clouds.

Now came a time when Garuda became fed up. Enough is enough, slavery is evil, and plus the snakes made SUCH a huge mess. So he asked them what he could do to free him and his momma, to which the snakes replied, "Bring ussss Amrit, the nectar of immortality." Great. So all you have to do is steal the nectar of immortality, stashed in the most secure location in heaven, wrestle gods, and give it to some evil noodles. Garuda obviuosly said yes.

On his way to heaven, he ate a huge ass elephant and turtle, who were locked in an eternal battle. Not relevant but seemed like a neat thing to add.

Garuda arrives on the gates of Swarga. He breaks 'em open, and flies in, defeats all the gods, no sweat, steals the Amrit and flies away. On his way, he is intercepted by Lord Vishnu, who says "Dem noodles are too powerful. You can't make them immortal." to which Garuda replies "Don't be afraid mysterious alien. I have no intention of letting the bastards have it." because you see dear reader, the nagas told Garuda to bring them the Amrit. They never told him to let them drink it. See, following everything by the word is so fun.

Garuda reaches down, and places the Amrit-kalash in front of the snakes. The Nagas immediately freed him and his mother from slavery, and when they slithered closer to the amrit, Garuda advised them to go and have a bath. "You must be so tired from waiting," and the greedy bastards slithered away to bathe. When they returned, the amrit was gone. So was Garuda. In desperation, they started licking the ground where the amrit pot was kept. Since the ground has graced the amrit, it acquired some of it's regenerative properties, hence snakes are able to shed skin. But even that was too strong for them so the grass blades slit their tongues into forks.

Garuda went back to Swarga to return the amrit, when Vishnu again intercepted him and said, "You have the amrit this entire time and yet you didn't want to drink it?" to which Garuda replied, "No. I wanted to free momma and myself. Also this smells a bit weird." "I require your services young man, as wingman and transport and minion." asked Vishnu, to which Garuda replied "Mmkay, but I ain't gonna be beneath you. I also gotta be above you" for which Vishnu invented his flag and emblem - the Garudadhwaj - a flag with Garuda's picture on it. Yes it is a scrappy dumb solution, but Garuda decided to go along with it, cause you're now protected by a really powerful god.

phew that was TOO long. Garuda also got his revenge since now he and all his progeny were allowed to feast on snakes and were immune to any and all types of poison.

Garuda is also the national emblem of Thailand and the state of Karnataka in India.

[stepfamilyabuseingodsname]

My whipping today

I should start with some background; I was staying over at my uncle's house with my cousin Bella (no real reason, just because). At the time things between my uncle and my cousin were a little tense, Bella has been known to be a troublemaker but especially around the time this happened she was getting into more trouble than usual. And I didn’t have a problem with it, Bella is my best friend but he’s her dad and I understand he’s in charge of keeping her in line at all. The thing was that it made him a little short with me and that annoyed me a little bit so I was a little short with him.

When I got up and had some breakfast my uncle was a little annoyed with my attitude and even gave me a swat over my pajama bottoms warning me not to act up anymore. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but my point is I was kinda on thin ice with my uncle. I guess thinner than I realized. Anyway I didn’t have to work until noon so I decided to go to the gym first.

When I got back I took a shower but I took a little too long. Before long my uncle barged in, turned the water off, and gave my butt a slap. I of course was a little shocked and tried to turn around and cover up. I had shampoo in my hair and was not ready to come out and go to work yet so after a quick lecture he made me turn around and gave me another spank. He told me to finish up ASAP and meet him in his room after I was done. I was pretty sure that meant he was going to spank me but I wasn’t sure until I got out and realized he took all my clothes.

At least I was able to dry off (wet butt spankings are the worst!) before putting on my hand bra/panties and making that awful long walk to my uncle's bed room. (I thought about wearing the towel down to his room but it was pretty obvious it was going to come off anyway.)

“Young lady that was the last straw” he said as I walked in his door

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you”

“Please uncle I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing and I have to go to work can we please skip the spanking. I’ll behave better I promise!”

His response was predictable.

SMACK

He grabbed me by the hips and turned me sideways to slap my butt.

“Okay, let’s try to make this quick without letting you go too easy. Over my knee” he said as he sat down on his bed and pointed to his lap.

I laid over his lap and he started spanking me. Even with just his hand, my uncle gives notoriously hard spankings and this was no exception, considering all I really did wrong was take too long in the shower.

He spanked me really hard and totally steady, slapping the exact say part of my sitspot. One cheek and then the next. By the time the spanking was done I basically had two hand prints on my butt (I kid you not, I could literally see the thumb mark separate from the rest of the hand print). Usually I would get a periodic break where my spanker stops to rub and lecture or ask if I’m learning or whatever, but not this time. Obviously, it wasn't long before I had problems holding still. Pretty soon I was wiggling, then I was kicking, then I tried covering up my backside.

Eventually I found myself held down and that’s about when my uncle stopped to look at his watch and said:

“Okay, I know you need to go to work so 5 more good spanks and I’ll let you go”

SMACK!!

SMACK!!

SMACK!!

SMACK!!

SMACK!!

SMACK!!

(I’m certain he gave me 6 and I’m still salty about it)

“Okay young lady, up you get”

And with that I got off his lap and immediately went into a very embarrassing, butt naked, “spanky dance”.

My uncle gave a very quick lecture about behaving and following instructions and blah blah blah he doesn’t like to do this blah blah blah...then gave me one more slap and told me to get ready for work.

It wasn’t the worst spanking but this wasn’t exactly how I wanted to start my day before work. I only had like 15 minutes to get dressed and eat something before I had to be out the door. Which didn’t leave much time to collect myself or nurse my butt or anything. So I scrambled to get out the door on time, which I was able to do but not without forgetting my mask so I had to circle back which made me late.

When I showed up, I was maybe 10 min. Late, and my boss was giving me crap but all I could focus on was that my butt still hurt lol

Anyway, I never had a chance to get some lotion on my butt so I took my lunch break early and headed over to a CVS near my job to get some lotion. When I got back I applied some to my backside in the bathroom and it did not work as intended! OMG I don’t know what was wrong with it, it was just normal lotion but it felt like I rubbed poison ivy all over my already spanked butt.

It was probably the first time in my life I did a full spanky dance without immediately receiving a spanking.prior. So yeah...one of those days.

But the day didn’t end there…

Once I got out of work, it was about 8:30 and I had to go back to my cousin’s house. When I showed up I wasn’t expecting my uncle to be there and only Bella’s car was in the driveway so I thought it was safe to assume my uncle wasn’t home, right?

So I walk in the door, only expecting Bella to be there and don’t forget I was having a bad day. I just want to remind you of that before you read the next part.

I walk up to the stairs and yell:

“Bella, do you have any lotion? You’re asshole dad spanked the shit out of me this morning”

...no reply.

I walk up stairs to find Bella’s room very much empty. I was a little confused until I turned around to see my uncle standing in the hallway with his arms crossed with a very stern look on his face. My heart just sank and my confusion turned to fear.

“Uncle Jack? I didn’t expect you to be home”

SMACK

Again, his response was predictable, a smack on my butt.

“I can only hope you didn’t”

For what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple of seconds I just looked at him and he looked back at me. I think he was deciding how he wanted to handle it..

“Young lady, I’m not going to stand here and give you a long lecture. You already know what you did wrong. What’s going to happen is I’m going to take you downstairs, you’re going to take off your pants, you’re going to lay over my lap, and then you’re going to get a very hard spanking. Hopefully when it's all over you will have learned your lesson.”

SMACK

He immediately followed up with a smack on my butt before grabbing me by the elbow and pulling me downstairs.

“Yes sir” I reluctantly agreed and followed him downstairs into the living room.

“Okay young lady. Pants down. Get in my lap. I’m not going to allow you to behave this way.”

I took down my pants, but thinking I might get lucky I didn’t pull down my panties. Much to my surprise, my uncle left them on as I went over his knee.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

My butt was still a little sore and the spanks hurt so bad, I just wasn’t able to hold still and started kicking and wiggling almost immediately.

“Hold still” my uncle demanded as he embarrassingly grabbed me by the butt to pull me back in position and pushed my shoulders down before continuing the spanking. But now he started pulling my panties up my butt leaving my cheeks exposed.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

“Up you get young lady” My uncle finally said.

I got up and he swiftly pulled my panties down. But foolishly, I pulled them back up.

“Please no, not on the bare. It’s so embarrassing please it hurts so much already”

He didn’t hear a word of it. He just pulled them back down, then put me back over his knee, and pulled my pants and panties clean off my legs.

:”You’re going to regret that” he said calmly

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

It wasn’t long after that before my uncle let me off his lap for a second time. Only this time I was instructed to get the spoon.

I walked as slowly as possible into the kitchen rubbing my butt and crying all the way there.

Once I got back my uncle made me “ask” him to please give me a spanking with the spoon (as if it weren’t embarrassing enough already).

“Uncle jack, will you please spank me with the spoon”

“Yes I will, now get back over my lap” he said as he put his hand on my butt and pushed me over his leg while grabbing the spoon with the other.

This time he must have known I was not going to be able to cooperate very well over the knee so he bent me over one of his legs and preemptively used the other to hold me down.

Now that I was pretty much totally restrained he started smacking me with the spoon.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

Finally, my uncle set the spoon on my lower back and rested his hand over my butt.

“I hope you’re learning your lesson young lady”

“Yes sir I am”

“Good, I sure hope so but he aren’t done yet”

SMACK

“Up you get, go fetch the paddle”

“No please, not the paddle! I learned my lesson! I promise!” I begged but didn’t get off of his lap

SMACK SMACK SMACK

Of course it was useless. If my uncle told me to get the paddle, I was going to get a paddling.

As with the spoon, I waddled as slowly as I could to get the paddle, rubbing my butt all the way to my uncle's room where he kept the paddle and back.

Even though neither the spoon spanking or the hand spanking took too long, I’m sure you can understand how it was getting real old, and real embarrassing, going back and forth over my uncle's knee and fetching implements.

“Alright young lady, I’ll take that. You stand right there and bend over with your hands locked behind your knees”

“Please don’t spank me too hard” I said as I handed him the paddle and bent over like he told me to.

“Count them” he said, tapping my butt with the paddle.

SMACK

“OUCH! One sir” I said as I immediately jumped up and rubbed my backside. He wasn’t spanking as hard as he usually did with the paddle but given how much my butt had been smacked that day, it was hard to hold still.

“Back in position” my uncle said as he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back down until I was bent over.

SMACK

“OUCH! Two sir”

SMACK

“OUCH! Three sir”

...

SMACK

“OUCH!”

And I finally couldn’t take it anymore so I broke position and started rubbing my butt. My uncle responded by again grabbing my shoulders but this time pulling me back to the chair and back over his knee.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

“Young lady, you are going to do as you are told!” he said before letting me back up.

“If you’re not going to stay in position, I want you to keep your hand on your knees, your knee slightly bent, and keep that butt out” he said tapping my butt with the paddle before I was even in position.

Now that I knew he was totally serious I stayed in position for the rest of the swats. Like I said, they weren’t full strength swings, but it was more than enough to keep me in tears.

With my back arched and butt sticking out, it was a pretty embarrassing position and I had to stay like that for the rest of the spanking. Periodically my uncle would slow down and use his hand to spank me, asking if I was learning my lesson or give me some kind of banal lecture.

He didn’t make me count them after that but there was a lot and it felt like forever! Finally he told me to stand up straight and put my hands on my head.

“We’re almost done here young lady” he said

‘You used some pretty gross language earlier, that and your attitude lately is why you’re here getting such a hard spanking isn’t that right?”

“Yes sir”

“And what happens when you use language you’re not supposed to?

“I get my mouth soaped”

“That’s right, now let's get your mouth and that butt in that bathroom to finish up your punishment” he said as he gave me a sorta light smack on my behind.

“Keep moving young lady”

SMACK

I tried walking nice and slowly to the bathroom but was sped up by the occasional hard smack on my butt.

“Okay young lady, you can use your hands to cover up your front if you’d like. But keep your hands away from your bottom. You’ve still got some spanks coming.” He said once we reached the bathroom.

“Yes Sir”

Once we made it to the bathroom I got the usual uninteresting treatment. I had to stand in front of the mirror while my uncle wetted up the soap, stuck it in and out of my mouth, smacked my still naked butt, and lectured me. Finally he told me he thought I learned my lesson and gave me permission to wash my mouth out. Then he gave me a big hug.

“You know I don’t like spanking you like this” he said

“I know you don’t, I’m sorry” was my reply.

Then came the awkward part (because nothing up to this point was the least bit awkward). My uncle said something to the effect of

“That bottom is awfully red and sore. Now that your punishment is over so I can be a little nicer, how about I put some lotion on them” he said, putting his arm on my shoulder and guiding me outside the bathroom and back into the living room.

Now my uncle has seen and spanked my bare bottom more times than I count, not to mention I had just finished up my second bare bottom spanking of the day with him, so I guess I could only be so embarrassed by him rubbing some lotion over my bottom. That being said, I found it pretty humiliating.

It’s not like he hasn’t done it before, or even that I would say no if he asked if I wanted him to. It was just that every other time I’ve had someone rub my butt with lotion after a spanking, I’ve either asked them to do it or at least they asked me if I wanted them to first. I honestly don’t think he was trying to make it awkward or anything, I think he was trying to be nice actually, just felt pretty awkward.

Anyway he grabbed some lotion from the bathroom and we walked back down into the living room. He sat down in the same chair that he was spanking me in earlier. Not going to lie, even though I knew he wasn’t going to spank me, it was a little scary going back over his lap in the same exact position.

“Wow that is one very hot bottom” he said as he cupped his hand around my butt.

“I’d have to spank bella awfully hard before her butt got got this hot” I didn’t really know what to say, I felt a mix of mildly annoyed and embarrassed over the comments on the temperature of my bottom.

“Yeah, you spanked me really hard. It hurts a ton.” I wasn't trying to make him feel bad but I just didn’t know how to respond.

“Sorry, I hope this isn’t too embarrassing for you. I know you’re a grown woman now.” Felt a little stange for him to say that with my literally half naked over his lap, with my butt in his hand.

“No, it's okay” I said, totally lying through my teeth.

It was about then that he started rubbing the lotion. And I’m not going to lie, it was very reliving. Not like I was feeling great or anything, butt my backside was hurting pretty bad and the lotion did make it fell a lot better

We had some light, sorta awkward, conversation while I was over his knee and I was starting to feel very relaxed. Finally he asked if I felt better now and I said yes. Then he gave me a spank that I was not at all expecting and told me I could get up. It wasn’t a super hard spank but it shocked me and almost ruined the whole point of putting lotion on my butt.

Anyway, that’s pretty much what happened, Not my best day, but at least I learned something so hopefully I don’t get too many more spankings like that

[marvelousstevetony]

Hello! Could you do something with Steve just being really cuddly when he’s sick?🥰 Thank you!

Hi, anon! I love sick, cuddly Steve so much, so of course! I was going to keep this short and sweet, but apparently I’m incapable of keeping things short, so... Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fic of Steve getting sick right after Christmas and Tony being super soft with his sick bf <3 

(3.8k words, stevetony, established relationship)

It starts the night of the 25th. The team had been gathered in the Tower’s penthouse, the floor where Tony and Steve reside, for all of Christmas Day. It had been fun. A lot of fun, actually.

They started off by eating breakfast together, an objectively over-the-top brunch buffet with everything one could desire during the holidays.

Then they moved on to exchanging and opening presents, which unsurprisingly took a very long time, seeing as there were an abundance of presents to get through and everyone likes to take the time to see the others open their presents one by one.

When every present had been opened, the games begun. They started with the board games, and, as usual, it got… competitive. Tony won at Scrabble, much to the annoyance of Bruce, who has been in a deeply committed relationship the the crossword section of the newspaper ever since he moved into the Tower.

Clint and Natasha destroyed everyone at charades, which wasn’t a surprise. The two of them have an uncanny spiritual connection that probably should be a bit worrying, but no one ever dares questioning.

Monopoly ended by the board being thrown and fake bank notes drizzling down over them like the snowflakes coloring New York white outside the windows. Steve almost looked apologetic when Clint had landed on his property with a hotel for the second time in a row and sent the board flying.

Steve won Cards Against Humanity because, contrary to popular belief, Steve Rogers had a very dirty mind. He always blushes, though, when he has to admit which answer he submitted, and Tony’s a weak man who, with one hundred percent’s certainty, has to call him out on his filthy thoughts and make his cheeks go an even deeper shade of scarlet.

They teamed up to play Trivial Pursuit, which Tony and Bruce won by a long shot. It had been unfair, really. Steve and Nat did pretty good, but they were no way near the the level of two literal geniuses with several Ph.D.s. Thor and Clint were shit, to be frank. Clint knew the answer to some of the questions, mostly in the Entertainment category, but Thor, god bless him, was a complete goner for the entire game.

Thor excelled, however, when they moved from board games to drinking games. Even as everyone else, except Steve, got progressively more intoxicated, Thor could just keep going like a bottomless pit. Perk of being a Norse God. The only game Thor didn’t win was beer pong, which did not please him very well. He tried to excuse his loss by saying that Clint had an unfair advantage, to which the rest of the Avengers nodded in agreement. Clint, the ever so smug asshole, just smirked.

As Christmas dinner was served, they started sobering up. It was a feast like never before and it left every Avenger with a full stomach and undoubtedly a heart bursting with sheer joy and happiness.

The day ended with them watching some Christmas movie on the couch, and when all eyelids slowly began slipping shut, they agreed it was time to call it a day. Wishing each other a merry Christmas, everyone took off to their respective floor, leaving Steve and Tony to themselves.

Steve feels the overwhelmed exhaustion wash over him as he steps out of the steaming shower. He didn’t notice it earlier, but now that he finally lets himself relax fully, he has to sigh at how his body aches slightly and how tired his eyes are.

Tony’s already in bed when Steve emerges from the ensuite wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, abs and chest fully on display. He’s about to make some salacious comment that’ll unquestionably make Steve go all shy, and then he’ll call him out for being a prude even though Tony knows for a fact (thank you, Cards Against Humanity) that Steve’s mind is just as dirty as his own. But when Tony looks at Steve’s face, he detects something fatigued about Steve’s expression as he’s putting on his pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

“Hey,” Tony calls out, but his voice is soft. “You’re looking a little peaky there. You alright?”

“What? Oh. Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Steve assures with a small smile. “Just tired,” he adds as he settles onto the bed next to Tony.

Tony hums in reply and pulls Steve closer until Steve’s head is positioned on Tony’s chest, and Tony’s face is nuzzling into the freshly washed, golden hair. Steve snakes his arms around Tony’s waist and cuddles him in close. When Tony’s fingers start trailing up and down Steve’s back, the soldier closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh into the fabric of Tony’s t-shirt.

“You’re really cuddly today, aren’t you, sleepyhead?” Tony chuckles as Steve buries himself deeper under the comforter and rubs his face into Tony’s bosom.

Steve mumbles something unintelligible but it sounds like a confirmation to Tony’s question.

“Did you have a nice Christmas Day?” Tony tries, hoping for an actual answer this time.

“Mhmm,” Steve murmurs. “The best. Thank you, Tony… love you.”

Tony can’t help but smile at how low and affectionate Steve’s voice is, or at how peaceful and young he looks when he’s tugged up next to Tony like this. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” Tony kisses the top of Steve’s head and turns off the bedside lamp. “Merry Christmas.”

***

They wake up the same way they fell asleep, with Steve wrapped around Tony’s body like a koala bear and Tony’s face mushed into Steve’s hair. They let themselves sleep in for once, praying that the call to assemble would wait at least a few more days, and it felt so good to actually wake up together. Normally, Steve would go out for a run or hit the gym, or Tony would have an early meeting, so it’s always a treat when both of them are still in bed when they wake.

“G’mornin’,” Steve croaks, his voice husky from sleeping.

“Morning, babe,” Tony replies. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, good, thanks. You?” Tony nods. “Good.”

They’re quiet for a bit, taking time to fully wake up from what had been a pretty sweet slumber. Steve’s the first to move, pulling himself out of Tony’s embrace to sit up against the headboard, and almost on cue, his nose twitches and he yanks the collar of his t-shirt over the nose and mouth.

“h’tschoo!”

“Bless you,” Tony says without even thinking about it. Steve always sneezes first thing in the morning, so Tony learned when they started sleeping together. It’s become so routinely it would be more unusual if he didn’t sneeze once after shifting himself into a sitting position.

No, the thing that surprises Tony is that Steve keeps his face covered after he’s sneezed.

“h’uhhh… UhhTsschoo! TChoo!”

Tony frowns. “Bless you?” It sounds more like a question, but Tony’s so confused because Steve never sneezes more than once in the morning.

Steve nods his thanks, but his eyes are still shut, and his facial expression is adorably and endearingly vulnerable when his brows are raised in an expectant frown like that.

“he’USHhh! Oh.”

Steve sighs breathlessly as he loosens his grip on the t-shirt.

“You’ve sneezed four times,” Tony states and glares concernedly at his boyfriend. “That’s not like you.”

Steve sniffles and shrugs. “It’s nothing, babe,” he says as he gets to his feet. “Probably just a tickle.” Steve leans down to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Tony looks at Steve again, worry clear on his face.

Steve smiles reassuringly. “I’ll get breakfast started,” he says and leaves the bedroom with a soft glance over his shoulder.

***

Breakfast is nice, as expected. Steve could potentially make the best pancakes in all of New York according to Tony. They’re decadent and sweet, covered in various toppings from fruits and berries to chocolate chips. It doesn’t hurt that Steve looks sinfully good while flipping the pancakes in the air, or that the entire scene seems like it could be straight out of Tony’s imagination, of his dreams of living a domestic and normal life with Steve.

When Tony has eaten what’s definitely too many pancakes, he notices that Steve has barely touched his.

“Everything okay?” Tony asks, frowning at the stack of uneaten pancakes on Steve’s plate. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”

Steve looks at the pancakes and smiles sheepishly, then looks up at Tony through his eyelashes. “Hmm… not very hungry, I guess,” he shrugs and begins picking at the food with his fork.

That’s not like Steve at all. It’s usually quite the task satisfying the super-soldier’s hunger. Tony doesn’t push it, though. Instead, he just observes the way Steve’s head is slightly ducked and how his cheeks are flushed a pale shade of pink.

***

They spend most of the day cuddling up on the sofa and watching whatever bad Christmas movie is on the tv.

“Why are we watching these?” Tony asks half way through the third movie about two strangers pretending to be lovers for Christmas so their family won’t taunt them for being single, only for them to actually fall in love and kiss in the snow and blah, blah, blah. “The acting is terrible,” Tony grumbles, “and they’re so cheesy!”

“It’s Christmas, Tony. We’re watching them because they’re cheesy,” Steve chuckles, but then it turns into coughing, and Steve leans away from Tony to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“Woah,” Tony says, gently rubbing Steve between his shoulder blades as he continues coughing, sounding rough and throaty. “That sounds awful, babe.”

When Steve is finally able to catch his breath he shakes his head and settles back into the cushions. “Sorry,” he croaks. “I think I swallowed the wrong way.”

Tony narrows his eyes warily and opens his mouth to comment on how his eyes look at little bleary and how his nose is the same color as his pinkish cheeks, but before he can speak, Steve has switched back to talking about the movie.

***

Steve starts sniffling around dinner time. Or, well, to be completely honest, Steve had been sniffling throughout most of the day, but as they sit down to eat some of the leftover turkey, stuffing and mash from the day before, they become more frequent and insistent. He even has to excuse himself from the table to go blow his nose in the bathroom, and when he comes back, Tony’s looking at him with concern sparkling in his eyes.

“Hey,” Tony says softly and takes Steve’s hand in his as Steve sits back down.

“Hey,” Steve echoes and return the squeeze Tony gives his hand. His voice is raspy, and he has to sniffle again before he brings his other hand to scrub at his nose.

“You look wiped. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I… yeah, I’m just— snff! oh, um, juuhhst… h-hold on. h’uhhH! USShhh’iiew! EIshh’ooh!”

“Bless you… Steve,” Tony adds with a pointed look when Steve looks away.

“Sorry,” Steve apologizes, bashfully. “snff! Might be catching a cold,” he admits and pushes his index finger under his septum.

“Hmm, I think so,” Tony says thoughtfully. “Though, I think you’re past catching it,” he amends when Steve has to turn away to sneeze into the sleeve of his jumper again. “Bless you,” Tony says and smiles sympathetically, getting to his feet to grab some tissues from the bathroom.

“Thank you,” Steve sighs when Tony returns with a box of Kleenex and gratefully accepts the handful of tissues Tony offers him. He blows his nose, attempting to be polite and quiet, but the nose blowing just makes him cough into the tissues instead. The choked sounds synchronize with the way Steve’s body rattles with each cough.

Tony fills Steve’s glass with water and hands it to him when the coughing dies down.

“Thanks,” Steve mumbles with a defeated look on his face, and Tony makes a concerned noise at how rough and exhausted his voice sounds.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling bad?” Tony asks. He brushes a few stray strands of golden hair away from Steve’s forehead and cups his cheek with his hand afterwards.

Steve can’t help but lean into the touch a little, to the warmth of Tony’s palm against his skin. “I swear, I’ve been okay until… until just now, I think. It’s come on pretty quickly.”

“Hmm… you were really tired last night, though,” Tony recalls. “Thought it might’ve been because it was a long day, but maybe not…”

Steve frowns a little. “I don’t even remember that…”

“You weren’t hungry at breakfast either,” Tony adds. He should’ve noticed the signs, really, Tony thinks to himself. The fatigue and exhaustion, the unusual number of morning sneezes, the missing appetite. It all seems pretty symptomatic. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner, I should’ve put two and two together—“

“Hey. If I can’t even tell when I’m getting sick, then there’s no way you’d able be to,” Steve says softly.  

“But still,” Tony argues weakly. He doesn’t push it further, though. “Anyways… I think we’re allowed an early night, then. It’s still Christmas and we have absolutely no work to do.” Steve smiles at that, Tony too, because that might just be the best Christmas present they could’ve hoped for.

They finish eating and start loading the dishwasher. As they make their way around the kitchen, wiping the counters with a tea towel and rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, Tony notices how Steve moves slower, his posture more sluggish than usual. He’s rubbing at his eyes a lot, too, and pinches the bridge of his nose when the sharp kitchen lights hit his eyes several times. Tony doesn’t call attention to it, but he observes quietly, heart squeezing tightly.

Steve sighs deeply when he starts the dishwasher and leans over the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the surface. Tony comes up behind him, pressing his chest against Steve’s back and snakes his arms around Steve’s waist, resting his forehead against the muscles between Steve’s shoulder blades.

“Bed,” Tony murmurs and plants a kiss at the nape of the soldier’s neck, right where the soft, blonde hair starts.

“I think I need a shower first,” Steve says, unenthusiastically. He sounds like he’d rather let himself fall face-first into the mattress and not move for the next 36 hours.

Then he shivers violently, and Tony can see the goosebumps on his neck. “Mmm… A nice, warm shower. I can bring the heated blanket up if you’re cold?”

“That— okay, yeah, that might be… that’d be really nice,” Steve admits. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony chuckles lightly. “You don’t have keep thanking for all these small things, Steve,” he tells him. “I like taking care of you.”

Tony knows Steve is blushing even though he can’t see his face. He can feel the way Steve shuffles uncomfortably, the way he bows his head slightly and bites his lip to stop the creeping smile.

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, a little hesitant. He usually doesn’t like asking for reassurance, but sometimes it’s nice being affirmed that yes, I actually care about you, Steve.

“Definitely,” Tony responds without a moment of uncertainty. “Now. Get going, Rogers. The sooner I get you into bed the more time we have without having to move.”

***

Steve emerges form the bathroom with a towel hanging low around his hips, his hair damp and face all flustered. He still looks tired, though, like standing under the hot spray drained him from what remaining energy he had left. Which has now reached zero percent.

Tony is already in bed, scrolling through his phone with a silly smile playing on his lips.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” Steve grins as he pulls his pajama pants on.

Tony turns the screen to Steve, who also starts smiling. Tony sighs and looks at his phone once more with loving eyes, almost as if he was looking at a puppy or a baby.

“I remember this like it was yesterday,” he said reminiscently.

“That’s because it was.”

“Oh, yeah… well, I love this picture. I think it might be my new favorite photo of us.”

“Says the man who refused to wear the ugly Christmas sweater,” Steve says and quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh, hush. I like it better when you wear one too,” says Tony truthfully and taps at his phone a few times to make the picture of him and Steve sitting in an armchair in front of the fireplace while wearing matching Christmas sweaters his background screen.

Steve had insisted that they’d wear one for Christmas Day. Tony had said no. He was not going to spend an entire day in a Captain America sweater with decorated with snowflakes all over it. However, when Steve had shown up with the Iron Man helmet with a Santa hat, Tony had drastically changed his mind.  

Obviously they had gotten teased for it. Clint made gagging noises for the majority of the day, pointing out how corny and cliché it was, and if all of Tony’s attention hadn’t been on how good Steve looked in red and gold, Tony might’ve ended up agreeing with Clint.

Natasha hadn’t said anything, not really, but the mischievous glint in her eyes was purposely obvious, and she too had spent a great amount of time snickering at them. Even Bruce couldn’t hide an eye roll every once in a while, but it was mostly followed by him shaking his head with a fond smile.

Thor seemed to have liked them though, and he insisted that next year they all should get matching Avengers sweaters. Sadly for Thor, no one but him seemed to be in favor of that idea.

“I’d wear that sweater every day if you wanted me to, but I think Clint might just kill me if I did,” Steve chuckles as he joins Tony on the bed.

“Probably,” Tony agrees. “But you did look really good in that,” he smirks and places the phone on the nightstand. Scooting closer to Steve, he lifts an arm for Steve to slip under, which seems like a very welcome invitation, because Steve is instantly lying with his head resting on Tony’s chest, one arm slung loosely over Tony’s stomach.

Steve lets out an involuntary sigh when Tony starts running a soothing hand up and down Steve’s arm while lacing their fingers together with the other.  

“Now I know,” Tony starts, waiting for Steve to looks up at him, and when does, he continues, “that you like sleeping like this the you’re sick. You did the exact same last night; draping your entire body over me like a koala.”

After taking a second to catch on, Steve goes bashful and begins to slowly draw back from Tony’s hold. Tony just hugs him tighter, though, and kisses the top of his head.

“I never said I minded… I like it too,” Tony assures. “Even when you’re all sniffly.”

With that, Steve melts back against Tony, relaxing again.

They lie in comfortable silence for a bit, only interrupted by the soft sniffles that seem to turn more insistent with each passing second. They become more frequent, too, and Steve has to let go of Tony’s hand to rub his nose against his wrist when he feels his nose beginning to prickle.

When that doesn’t work, he tries nuzzling his face into Tony’s shoulder, and lets out quiet groan when the itch is still there.

“You alright?”

“I thigk I h-have… huh? snffSNF! Ugh. I have to sndeeze.” His voice is starting to sound more congested, and his eyes are watering when his breaths come shorter and he scrunches up his nose. Wiggling it back a forth a couple of times seems to coax the tickle forward, and he tries to turn in Tony’s grip when the buzzing becomes too demanding, but Tony’s just pulls him back in, fasting his grasp.

“Tooh- Tony, I…” Steve warns, but the brunette doesn’t let go and Steve ends up stifling back two strong sneezes into Tony’s t-shirt. “uhNGxxt! N’GKt!” Holding back the sneezes makes him cough, and trying to hold those back makes him cough even worse.

He pulls fully away from Tony now, even though Tony is telling him to lay back down, that he doesn’t mind at all. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed so he’s sitting with his back hunched forward, he lets himself cough more freely.

Tony props up on his elbow, resting a warm hand on Steve’s back when the alternating coughs and sniffles turn into heavy, desperate gasps.

“HESHishh! ehhYISHhee!” The sneezes burst out with such force that his body jerks forward, aiming them down towards the floor. “uhhISHh’iew! ih! ihh… ISH! huhhHISH’oo!” He coughs a little again, then gives himself a shake to clear the lingering tickle.

“God bless,” Tony says sympathetically and pulls at Steve’s sleeve. “C’mon, honey, lay back down.”

Steve casts a glance over his shoulder to look at Tony, but shakes his head. “I doad thi’gg I’mb fidnished,” he says, voice thick and low.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony replies and tugs at him again, this time successfully managing to get him back into their previous position.

However, after only a few seconds, Steve has to lift his head from Tony’s chest to let out a few smaller, softer tsshoo! tsh! sneezes down at the blankets.

“Bless you,” Tony mumbles into the blonde hair when Steve has settled down again.

“Snff! Thank you,” Steve sighs. “I’m so sorry, Tony, you’re gonna catch this…”

“Probably,” Tony agrees, then shrugs. “If it means I get to cuddle up with you for a couple of days then I won’t complain. Plus, if either of us is sick on New Year’s we’ll have an excuse for missing that crappy party.”

Steve chuckles and smiles fondly up at Tony. “Pepper’s going to have your head if you cancel, you know.”

“I know… but this — you. This is worth all the angry voicemails I’ll receive and all the flowers I’ll have to buy her afterwards.” Tony glances down, locking his eyes on Steve’s blue ones, red-rimmed and watery, but just as beautiful as they always are. He goes quiet for a bit, taking a second to appreciate the moment. A few years ago, Tony would have never seen himself end up this… this happy. But then came Steve, and suddenly every expectation Tony had for himself went out the window. It’s incredible, Tony thinks, how one person can change everything.

“Steve?” Tony breathes.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[mc-lukanette]

Grade for Each Other (Part 4)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Juleka looked up at Luka as he crossed the gangplank to step onto the ship. She'd made a confused comment about his big grin and the skip in his step, but he was casual about it and told her that he was simply having a good day.

It wasn't a lie. He'd just thought it best to avoid the subject of what exactly had transpired, given what Marinette had told him. He trusted his sister, but he knew where her weaknesses were; she had a lot of anxiety and easily folded under pressure. It thrilled him that Juleka had friends of her own, but some tended to be pushy (he was too polite to voice names but he definitely thought names), and he wasn't burdening Juleka with any sort of knowledge when Marinette was perfectly happy as things currently were. The last thing either needed was something stirred up.

Thus, he passed by Juleka with a calm shrug over her question on how he was meant to be out with his friends by this point. Walking across the deck, he passed by the cabin, where Anarka was leaning on the helm of the boat.

"What's got your sails out, son?"

He glanced up at her, knowing that she wouldn't as easily let it slide. Grinning, he replied, "New member in the crew."

Her brows raised, either in interest or suspicion. "...A co-captain?"

Luka held back an "I wish" and instead shook his head. Regardless of how much of a crescendo he was riding, he wasn't dating Marinette or anything.

He walked on, heading downstairs to go below the deck. There was a song in his heart, urging him to move faster, but he tried to contain it. He let the notes build and develop as he slipped into his room, his fingers finally touching the neck of his guitar.

And then his phone went off.

Luka's mouth turned to a thin line, Claudine's ringtone almost seeming to taunt him. Silently, he wished he'd just played the guitar that he'd grabbed at the music store when he was with Marinette.

Pulling out his phone, he accepted the call and held it to his ear, taking a seat on his bed to get comfortable. "Hi, Cee."

"Hey—" She paused. "...I almost didn't get that."

He could hear a shuffling noise, followed by the sound of a high C note on a flute.

"So, how was your walk home, Couffaine?"

He snorted. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"You know I didn't." He could imagine her innocent shrug. "Does that mean you had fun with your melody?"

"Not my melody," he reminded her.

"Sounds like she's definitely some melody though, considering that you haven't played her out yet."

He blinked, wondering how she could've known. "What?"

The smirk was evident in her voice. "You've been tapping a tune on the back of your phone."

Luka stiffened, realizing the position of his fingers on his phone. He pulled the phone away, then switched the hand it was in so he could tap at his leg instead. It was a much quieter sound at least.

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question," she pointed out. "How was the walk?"

He frowned, not because she was prodding for details, but because said walk involved Marinette becoming upset. It wasn't entirely bad, but there was little he could tell her.

"It was... a lot," he replied simply.

She hummed. "A lot? So the usual for you then, at least whenever you're around her?"

He didn't respond even though she was right. Debating with himself for a moment, he then spoke with a hint of caution to his voice. "Look, Claudine, about you guys leaving me and Marinette alone—"

"Spare me." she interrupted with a snort. "You've played that tune way too many times. You don't want to pressure her, she likes someone else, you're an angel sent from heaven above who's too nice to pursue her in anyway, blah blah blah."

He hunched forward, brows furrowed as he tried to sound more stern. "Claudine—"

"Luka." There was a sound in the background to imply that she'd sat down on a thick chair of some kind. "Look. You're a sweet guy and I think that's great, but the girl you love skipped two grades and ended up in your class by pure coincidence. You're just going to pass that up?"

He sighed. "A good song'll never come together if I force it."

"And a good song will never come together if you don't try," she argued, sounding exasperated.

Luka opened his mouth to disagree, but found himself at a loss for words, instead biting his lower lip.

A few seconds passed, probably as Claudine gave him a moment to respond if he had anything to say. When he didn't, she let out a calm breath and continued, "There's nothing wrong with walking someone home. It doesn't have to be romantic, right?"

"If it makes her uncomfortable—"

"Did it?"

He was immediately reminded of Marinette hugging him from behind, causing him to blush. "...No."

"Then what's the problem? And hey, if she's in love with some other guy, what if you're better for her?"

"I'm not the one who makes her happy."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure the fond eyes she gives you are just for show," Claudine joked. "I'm just saying, what if this guy's gonna end up making her miserable?"

He briefly cringed at the memory of going to the ice rink with Marinette, Adrien, and Kagami.

"I'm not telling you to get down on one knee and propose - even though I'm sure you're there emotionally anyway - but how about you just let yourself be happy for once without worrying about all the conditions you've gotta add onto that? You're not pursuing her, but you're just letting her know that... what's the phrase? That there's many fish at the sushi bar?"

"You've been hanging around Mito too much."

"My point is, you're not doing anything wrong by letting her know how you feel. You're not getting into her space and you're not forcing anything on her. You're just hanging out like friends do, and so what if you happen to be alone?"

He managed a smile. "Happen to be? You three left us alone. I'm starting to think that you're just doing it to see my reactions."

"It's a bonus," she shamelessly admitted. "Anyway, consider it. I'll let you get back to your Mari Melody now."

He let her have that one. "Thanks."

The phone clicked, Luka pulling it away to stare at the screen momentarily. He exhaled, then set it aside and went for his guitar again, plugging it into his amp before settling down on his bed.

He'd just gotten his guitar into his lap when his phone went off yet again. Luka was starting to believe that fate was thoroughly against him at this point, but then he noticed that it was at least Marinette this time, and only a text message. Happy, though slightly concerned that she was slipping back into her solemn mood during their walk, he picked his phone back up and navigated to their messages.

Oh my gosh! I just realized that I have NO idea what I'm going to do about studying! New school, new lessons, and I'm not prepared at all!

Do you study???

Not that I'm implying you don't or that you don't care about it, but some people don't need to or are comfortable where their grades are, you know?

He smiled, able to read how much her mind was moving faster than her fingers just by how quickly the messages had come in. He leaned back against the wall, his forearm resting on the body of his guitar as he watched more messages pour in.

I'm just asking because maybe we could study together? Like a study date?

NOT LIKE, A DATE DATE.

Especially if you bring your friends which would be totally okay! I don't know them well yet, but they're really nice so far!

Or maybe THEY don't study so it would just be you and me then?

BUT NOT A STUDY DATE.

IT'S JUST A DATE

ON THE CALENDAR

WHERE WE'D STUDY.

SO NOT A STUDY DATE DATE.

YEAH?

He chuckled. The sacrifice of not being able to play yet was well worth it to see that she was back to normal again.

He went to respond, but stopped as he saw that she was still typing. The typing bubble seemed to be going through a pattern of appearing, disappearing, and then reappearing. He waited until, finally, the last message popped up.

I mean, unless you want it to be...?

His mouth dropped open. The only thing saving his phone from falling onto the bed, given the sudden slack in his fingers, was the angle of his palm. He reread the message a few times, just to make sure he wasn't reading it wrong, then averted his gaze to the amp that he had plugged his guitar into earlier.

It suddenly looked incredibly small and pathetic.

After what may've been a full minute of just sitting there, Luka set the phone aside and got up. Securing his guitar to his back, he unplugged it from the amp and turned to walk out of his room. He went up the stairs and back to the cabin, where Anarka was still idling.

"Mom, can I borrow your amp?"

"Atta boy!"

[Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[itsscrystal]

Just Wanna Say “I Love You”— a Sakusa x fem!reader short series

level 5 - in love? who?

[masterlist]

Okay, this is weird. Why is she smiling so much to herself while staring at her phone? When she didn’t receive any message? For the past two hours, five minutes and twenty-three seconds— but hey, who’s counting?

Suna shivered a little and mentally judged [y/n] as he glanced at the girl again. What happened to her? He knew she was “normal” until she reached home after meeting with her friends. While smiling makes her look pretty, Suna is starting to get creeped out.

“Uh, [y/n]? Did you meet the love of your life in the afternoon or something? You can’t seem to stop smiling. And you need to stop, because seeing you smile for an unknown reason is creeping me out.” [y/n] blinked in surprise and asked, “I was smiling?” “Yep”

She blinked again and finally replied, “Yeah, I think I feel in love again or something.”

Eh?

“W-What?” Suna stared at her, confused. “You’re actually in love? For real?”

[y/n] smiled again. “I always am. It’s just… I haven’t seen him for years. Seeing him again just reminded me how much my heart goes da-dum! whenever I see him. Can’t be helped though, he’s always so pretty.” How can a guy be pretty? Suna wanted to scoff and wipe that smile off her. The fire in his stomach burnt wildly as the ashy, bitter taste of jealousy continued to burn within him. How can one be in love with another without interacting for years?

“I remember you telling me that you’re seeking for a roommate that will not fall in love with you,” words rolled off Suna’s tongue with huge effort, “that was last year, when I called you after seeing the flyer. So it was all for “him”, huh? The guy you’ve always been waiting for.”

If [y/n] had paid more attention to him, she would have caught onto what he’s feeling. If she had known what Suna truly wants, she might have made Suna leave. Should he be happy that her attention has been strayed to the mysterious man who had her heart all along?

“Yeah. I can still remember telling you “I’m not looking for love, if you are interested in me, please get outta the door”. Wow, now to think of it, it feels like that was so long ago…”

Suna’s heart squeezed a little in pain. Should he give up? On her?

Hell no.

Operation Confession: to start now.

____________________

[y/n], meanwhile, was blissfully unaware of what’s going on with Suna. All she focused on was the groupchat Komori had created after they met up recently. The groupchat was surprisingly active as they texted each other daily. Of course there are times where no messages come in, afterall they are also busy with their volleyball training and practices. [y/n] told herself that she, like her other two friends, should work hard too. Hence, the sudden influx of writings on her laptop.

ping!

Komori: [y/n]-chan! I heard both you are crashing Kiyoomi’s house tomorrow for movie night?

[y/n]: Yeah, Yoomi told me that he kinda wants a chance with me again. So we’re starting things slowly.

Komori: I was going to complain why I was not invited, but seeing that this is a date, I better not crash it! Hope y’all have fun :D

Sakusa: Why would like want to watch movies at the first place? You like horror movies and I don’t watch them.

Komori: We need some bonding time! Bonding! Time!

[y/n]: That’s cute. You can come over if you like, Motoya-kun. We can just hang out that night.

Sakusa: …

Sakusa: Ok.

Komori: *GASP* Kiyoomi would never agree. [y/n]-chan, tell me how you’ve manage to do that!!

[y/n]: uh…

Sakusa: You better not push it.

Komori: Okay, okay. I’ll just sit in a corner and not bother you guys. I’ll just not come tomorrow >:-(

____________________

Suna had this planned out. It is fool-proof. At least, it was fool-proofed. He just didn’t expect her to have plans tomorrow.

“So… you’re out tomorrow? The entire day?” Suna repeated, frowning. “Yeah… I’m going to be busy tomorrow, hence we might not be able to hang out…”

Suna groaned internally. Is this a bad omen or what? He just wants to confess! Now he has to tell Osamu to cancel all the plans they’ve made. Just who is this man?

“Oh, by the way, I’m giving the guy a chance. Hence, you can consider me as someone who’s… taken? Wow. When have I regarded myself as someone in a relationship? This label sounds nice.” [y/n] blabbered on about the fuzzy feeling in her chest whenever she sees the guy… blah blah blah.

<Suna does not care. He knows he does not care about this. At all. Sheesh.>

Plan one— postponed. To a later date, maybe?

a/n: wow what have I done to Sakusa and Suna. things are finally starting to move and I can’t wait to share the following chapters with yall!

a/n: however, i’m kind of feeling burnt out from constantly writing this story to rushing my assignments and studying for the tests at this moment. hence, I’ll be taking a short break till the end of march! hope to see yall soon!

a/n: I might be dropping level 5.5 sometime during the hiatus, so do look forward to that I guess! as usual, likes and reblogs are appreciated! hope yall have a great day ahead :D

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 29 Malcolm* AKA the microwave

As promised to my best friend, no dating was allowed until I got my second COVID-19 vaccine. However, I asked her for permission to download Tinder, not in order to seriously find someone, but in order to play a fun game that my friends and I titled “Tinder Roulette.” My request was granted. Of course, the deal was that I would have to delete Tinder right after the game ended.

The rules were set up so that you yourself are not punished for “being hot” or attracting people, rather you are punished for the other players’ attractiveness, and if you attract the wrong kind of people. The exact rules were as follows:

Only swipe right on guys you would want to go on a date with.

If you get a match, everyone else drinks.

Super liked on someone you swipe right on? Everyone else has to chug for 5 seconds

See someone you know, YOU drink

You get a message, other people have to drink.

If you get a DTF (down to fuck?) message (or similar hok up culture energy) you have to finish your drink.

With the rules in hand, my two girl friends and I met on Discord and added video chat as well so that we could easily share images/show who we were looking at. It was a great time, showing each other hot men as well as just straight weirdos. I came across a profile of a decent-looking guy, who had a tagline in his bio comparing himself to microwave in a depreciating joking way. I matched with him and got permission from the group to message him first. “What wattage of microwave are you?” He answered 1000 which was agreed upon that that would be the “right answer.” Upon chatting with him more, we all decided to invite this guy into our discord and see if he was weird or not.

He joins in and also had his video camera on, so we could see what he was up to. His computer was in his bedroom, where he had LED lights all around and an American Flag on the wall. He proves to definitely be an extroverted individual, and placed himself center spotlight, engaging with everyone in the discord call, while also of course trying to get to know me. I did tell him about the tinder roulette, and also told him that I was not technically available right now due to the deal with my best friend and that I would be able to date 10 days from then when I was getting my last vaccine. He was amenable to this and was happy to wait for me. He messages me personally via discord and on Tinder for asides, telling me I look pretty or asking me this and that.

Despite this, many things are notable about the group discord conversation, as by this point there are a few men hanging out in the same channel along with my two girlfriends. Malcolm* chooses to share quite a few things about himself. For example, he says that he also recently matched with a woman who was 42. Not only was she older but that she had an Only Fans account. Later he would say that she sent him a video of her having sex with someone; when he did not respond in a “timely manner,” the woman blocked him on Instagram. He also brought up that he had sex with a woman that was 55. He did not specify how long ago this was, just that it happened.

I was very confused about why this man would think these things were appropriate and a normal thing to talk about with people you just met. Once Tinder roulette was called to an end, he still stuck around. He and one of the guys starting talking about guns and I spaced out as this isn’t the kind of conversation that appeals to me. He catches on to this, as he can see me probably detaching from my body via my expressive face. He asks for my number via Tinder. I remind him about my inability to date at the moment but allow him to text me. Already, I am not super enthralled by this gentleman; he seems just bizarre and kind of a whore.

He is the kind of guy that just randomly sends selfies. Just strange. I realize as well that he isn’t truly attractive, at least to me. He is constantly asking me questions to get to know me, which is sweet and endearing if I was interested, but becomes annoying as time goes on. He makes many comments casually/intermittently in his replies, talking about public hair and too much information. Through this, I learn he gets his pubic hair waxed monthly. I didn’t even know this was even an option. I learn that it is dangerous to wax your testicles. The more you know, but I also could have completely done without knowing this information.

That day I get a different vaccination, and it makes me very tired, so I relax the rest of that day.

There’s a time he Facetimes me, I decline. I honestly am not in the mood to talk to this guy that is just… overwhelming. I simply just text him “I’m too tired to talk.” That is enough to get me out of that. He makes a comment that at this point, “if it was 9 days you would get a massage.” Blah. I don’t respond to this. I don’t talk to him the rest of that day.

Nine or so hours later, he messages me, almost desperately, wishing me good sleep and hoping I feel better, and says “sorry for texting you a lot.” This kind of energy from men is a huge turn-off; I call it the “woe is me” behavior.

I text him in the morning saying I had already fallen asleep when he last text me and said I hoped he had a good day. We have small talk but more or less don’t talk.

The next day, now Tuesday, he checks on me. My arm that the vaccine was injected into is in excruciating, burning pain down the entire arm and my hands. Work is almost unbearable. I share this with him and say I’ll likely be going to urgent care after work. He goes full “simp” mode and says that he will do anything for me and order me food if I need it. I decline but thank him. I don’t respond to more of his attempts to cheer me up. He sends me a puppy gif, A “hang in there” text, another selfie. I do not respond to any of this.

At urgent care, I’m more or less told nothing is wrong and to give it more time. My searing pain continues and so I have no patience for this overzealous individual.

Now Wednesday, five days or so after matching with him, he wishes me a good day, making this his fifth text in a row. I do not respond until the end of the day, 10 hours later. This is both because of my blatant disinterest, and I had a busy day. By this time as well, I have redownloaded Hinge, and have started chatting with my next two chapters, which are more entertaining and positive conversations.

That was that. When I didn’t talk to him again, I received a text from him two days later, and that’s when things got more uncomfortable.

After that, I blocked his number. Months later he liked me on hinge and his message was “Well I’m covid free but I know you hate me.” I did not accept his like. Gag me with a spoon please, these “woe is me” boys are emotionally exhausting.

[deweysdenouement]

House of Cards

a/n: this has lived in my mind rent free for longer than i care to admit but i only actually wrote it all tonight. somethin’ a little different. somethin’ likely not that good.

or: years after beatrice and bertrand leave vfd, beatrice and frank get trapped under a desk together during a bank robbery. mostly just them, cameos from bertrand, violet, and ernest + much discussion of kit and dewey

TW for guns and blood (nothing graphic, no death)

“Well,” Beatrice says brightly as a bullet flies over their heads and dislodges some beige coloured plaster in the wall. “This is no good.”

“I thought we were just amicable strangers in a queue,” Frank replies flatly, folded up like the origami swans on the tables at his hotel, trying to keep his body hidden under the desk. 

“Amicable strangers surviving a bank robbery together,” she says. “It brings people closer.”

“That’s never been my experience of the world,” Frank says, and it’s punctuated by another two shots, an effect she imagines he rather enjoys. “In my experience, when people get scared, they just leave.”

‘Well,” Beatrice says, as her heart breaks behind her ribs, “I am actually stuck here right now.”

“You haven’t changed,” he replies, and a hint of softness creeps into his voice. “I thought being a mother would force you to learn to actually listen to people.”

It’s a dig, and an accurate one at that, but they might be dead in a few minutes, so she leaves her arsenal of words she could throw back at him alone. Partly because she’s listening for the footsteps of the man keeping them all in here, partly because Frank looks more pitiful than annoyed.

“I have two children now,” she says softly. “So I should be doubly good at it.”

“I saw. Dewey kept the clipping from the birth announcement in the paper.”

“How is he?”

“You know Dewey,” Frank says, tone carefully even. “If there’s a silver lining, he’ll find it.”

Someone on the other side of the room starts to cry. A few scattered voices hush them.

“He’s not great,” Frank finishes. “So we should try to avoid dying here.”

“We’ll be fine,” Beatrice says easily. “They just want the money. We’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Bad timing,” he murmurs.

“Because you’re stuck in a hostage situation, or because you’re stuck in a hostage situation with me?”

Frank smiles crookedly for the first time since they had noticed each other in the queue.

“Oh, the latter,” he says. “If I was stuck here with Bertrand? No complaints.”

“Bertrand could have talked that guy down by now,” she says glumly. “You could run off back to the hotel and avoid any awkward conversation at all.” 

“Don’t you always claim to be some genius with people?” Frank shifts slightly, and she hears the crack of his bones. They’re both getting older.

“I can’t even get toddlers to go to bed,” she says ruefully, and it feels more honest than she means it to. “You think I can stop a hostage situation with the power of love?”

“Well, it would be nice. I have a meeting in an hour.”

“I cannot believe you are worrying about work,” she hisses. “Are you gonna try telling him that?”

“I’ve never seen the emotional card work in the movies,” he says, and she thinks he might be joking with her again. “Who can know what’ll work?”

“I do feel very inclined to tell him I have a husband and two children,” Beatrice huffs, and slides down the smooth wood so she’s half resting on the small of her back. “If anything happens to me-”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he says sharply. His face is closed off again. “Nothing is happening to you.”

“Never knew you cared.” She grins at him, knocks her shoe against his. “Anyone else would have let me have my moment.”

“Kit would tell you to shut up,” he says. “Then threaten to run you over with her taxi.”

“That was definitely her thing.”

“It still is her thing,” Frank says. “We didn’t all stop existing when you left.”

“I know,” she says, a little ashamed. “How is she?”

“How much have you forgotten about us that you think Kit and I are talking about feelings?”

“Good point,” she says, and laughs a bit. “But you can tell, can’t you?”

“I guess,” he hums. “She’s pretty mad at you.”

“That’s fair.”

Footsteps move right past their desk, separated only by a thin slice of wood, and they both hold their breaths for a moment.

“She does miss you both though,” he carries on, and she thinks maybe he’s using Kit as a shield, that they’re not really talking about her anymore. “Probably more than she’s mad at you.”

“I guess you can’t know,” she says.

“I guess not.”

“I really am sorry,” Beatrice whispers. “And you can tell her that, if you want. I think a lot of people would have made our choice if they’d been able to.”

Being friends with Frank, she remembers, is a lot like building a house of cards. There’s a lot of fragile and strategic placing, and a wrong step usually means starting over. It’s a shame this isn’t really a good time to be hesitant.

“I would have,” he says eventually, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “But then VFD made the hotel too critical to their operations, even though we just wanted it to be a hotel. And then there’s my brothers. Obviously.”

“I didn’t know you wanted it to be normal,” she frowns.

“Told you you didn’t know everything,” he says, smiling weakly. “What better way to keep us where we were than monopolising our only source of income?”

“Not very noble,” she mutters, then, “Why do you always talk about it like you’re not a part of it?”

“Don’t start reading into things,” he huffs. “I look at most things from the outside.”

“Well, that’s because you have problems,” Beatrice quips teasingly, and she’s about to make an excellent joke when there’s another round of shots so close to her ear that for a second her head is full of ringing, and then Frank is groaning next to her.

When the ringing subsides and she hears the feet move away and sees the light shining through the holes in her desk, she scrambles over to Frank.

“Oh shit,” she says, when she sees blood on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, feeling great,” Frank snaps, shifting so she can see the wound in his leg. It’s not deep, and he doesn’t look in any danger of dying, but it still makes her a little dizzy after a few years of mainly cleaning up baby food. “Not the first time.”

“When was the first time?” Beatrice asks, stripping off her cardigan to press it against his leg and trying to sound normal. “And why haven’t I heard this story?”

“Oh, it was meant for Ernest,” he says, and hisses when she applies pressure. “I kept up the ruse. Long story.”

“We have time,” she says.

“Not much,” he replies. “I heard police outside.”

As much as she would like to not be hiding from a man with a gun, Beatrice knows that when this is over, so is this conversation. They’re only trapped here together by freak coincidence and her pulling him down next to her when the first shots went off. He’ll be gone with the wind as soon as the doors open.

“Hey, Beatrice,” he says, snapping her out of her reverie. “Listen to me for a moment and don’t say anything.”

“Fine,” she says. “Don’t confess your feelings for me though.”

“Hah,” he snorts. “Well, if I do, it’s the blood loss.” 

“Making you reveal what you’ve felt all along,” she says brightly. “Come on now, before you pass out.”

“I’m not passing out,” he says stubbornly, and she believes this because she’s seen him go three days without sleeping before. “I just needed to tell you that if I die and you live-”

“Obviously not happening.”

“I said don’t say anything,” he grumbles. “If I don’t make it out of here and you do, I need you to tell my brothers-”

“That you love them? We know, Frank, maybe you should just show some affection sometimes.”

“Will you shut up?” Frank narrows his eyes at her. He’s a little pale and sweaty, but still as sharp as ever. “I need you to tell them one of them can take my place. If they want to. It’s probably easier than whatever they’ve got going on.”

“Well,” Beatrice says. “That’s insane.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion on it, I just asked you to do it,” Frank snaps. “Beatrice, for god’s sake, let a man bleed in peace.”

“You’re hilarious,” she says. “I don’t think you have it that easy though.”

“Your opinion isn’t really part of my life anymore,” he says bluntly, and closes his eyes. “I’d pass on a message for you.”

“Eh,” she says. “I think I’m kinda obvious now. I love my family, I want them to move on, I was very noble, blah blah.”

“Duly noted,” he replies. “You have fun with that.”

Then the doors break open, and there’s a cacophony of yelling, and when Beatrice peers over the top of the desk, she sees that the man who took them all hostage is in handcuffs.

“Told you we’d be fine,” she says. “I know you thought we were both done for, but you gotta learn to listen to me.”

Frank flips her off, and she helps him to his feet, slinging one skinny arm over her shoulder.

Outside, there are crowds of people all with their gloved hands over their mouths and some cheer as the little group of hostages trails out.

“Hi!” A little voice calls, and Beatrice looks down to see Violet toddling towards her at top speed, Bertrand hurrying behind her with Klaus in his arms.

“Oh,��� he says slowly when he approaches, and sees Frank with her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Frank says, making some vague attempt to look dignified despite barely being on his feet. “I hope you’re well.”

“Are you?” Bertrand asks, nonplussed. 

“What do you think?” Frank says flatly, and Beatrice nods subtly to the blood seeping down his leg so Bertrand will understand the sudden absence of a filter.

Before Bertrand can come up with any reasonable response to that (and she’s sure he could and she would admire him greatly for it), Ernest is swooping in, and it’s another punch to the gut of a familiar face even if it’s the exact same face.

“There you are,” Ernest says, pulling Frank off Beatrice to lean on him without a word to her. He looks dreadful, but she can’t tell if it’s the present stress or a new normal. “Dewey’s worried sick. Kit drove me here, that’s how dire things got.”

“Hi, Ernest,” Beatrice says. Bertrand stays wisely silent.

Ernest gives her the once-over.

“Thanks for helping,” he says shortly. “You probably shouldn’t come to the taxi.”

“Good call,” she says weakly. “Bye.”

It feels just as hard the second time.

“Bye,” Ernest says, and Frank raises a hand. “Okay, come on, you’re off work for at least a week.”

“It’s a graze,” Frank sighs, and then they’re both gone into the crowd, and Beatrice stands among the bustle of people with Bertrand’s hand on her shoulder and fresh blood drying on her dress.

[raendown]

Pairing: YamatoNaruto Word count: 2487 Soulmate au: The one where you can hear what they're thinking whenever you consciously try to listen

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 220

Tenzo knew his soulmate within moments of meeting them. He really hadn’t expected that. After the life he’d led and a continuing lack of proper social understanding he’d expected it to take a very long time for him to figure it out if and when they finally met. There had been times he’d bemoaned the fact that their mental connection didn’t extend towards an ability to have actual conversations, limited only to allowing them an ear in to each other’s thoughts at will, but after so many years of worry it seemed there had been nothing to fear on that front. Unfortunately in all the time he’d spent wondering what they would look like or how their voice would sound out loud Tenzo had forgotten to wonder about one thing. Only one detail, yet such an important one. He’d forgotten to wonder at their age. 

Looking at the still growing bundle of energy in the clearing ahead of him, Tenzo did his best to identify each of the emotions coalescing in the hot tangled ball around his heart. Shock, clearly, was the foremost emotion, that fate had chosen to bond him with someone so much his junior without even allowing them the mercy of meeting after Naruto had fully grown. Confusion was also a large part of it, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was confused about or if he was simply feeling generally off-kilter. Years of rigorous training had the back of his mind reminding him that such emotions would make for poor concentration on the mission awaiting them. But there were still so many other feelings woven throughout the stranglehold suffocating his heart that he just knew he would never be able to untangle them all for a proper look. 

Was he disappointed? Tenzo couldn’t say. He could admit in the privacy of his mind that Naruto’s features were already handsome but at the same time he felt almost dirty for even noticing. The boy was only seventeen. 

The best thing he could think to do at the time was to hold his silence. Whatever his feelings about this situation, it would surely be for the best if he figured them out for himself before admitting to this child that they were matched. Before that first day was over it was obvious that Naruto was not the sort to take big news quietly or keep it to himself either. Tenzou felt certain the boy would understand if he simply put off such an awkward conversation until he was sure they could both be ready for it. 

Unfortunately the longer he held his tongue the less sure he became, a year or two quickly turning in to half a decade almost before he realized, and Tenzou suddenly found himself adrift in a post-war utopia with everyone around them finding the places they were always meant to be, leaving him far behind. He wondered sometimes if Naruto even really noticed that he’d never found his bond. In the wake of the Fourth Shinobi War the boy - more of a man now than a boy - found himself awash in suitors of all genders, handing out dates left and right like he had a well of infinite love for anyone who wanted a taste. And Tenzou, well. He wanted a taste. It may have taken just over five years for him to finally admit it to himself but the rare glimpses he allowed himself in to Naruto’s thoughts showed him to be as genuine as the face he showed to the rest of the world. It would have been very difficult indeed to find a heart as true as Naruto’s.

Some days it was harder than others to understand why or how he had worked himself in to this stupid corner, unable to speak and yet unwilling to hold his tongue. On those days when the loneliness he’d built for himself became too much he found himself often drifting to the roof of the administration tower. It was always peaceful up here. Most people in the common forces assumed that the Hokage’s ANBU would be camped out here on lookout at all hours of the day and yet such assumptions only meant it would be too easy a spot to be ambushed. Generally they avoided it, letting the rumors fly free to encourage any possible attacks away from their true hiding places, and that left the roof free for a despondent ex-ANBU to sit with his back to one of the massive pillars while he looked for answers in the stars above. 

The last thing he expected was for anyone to join him there. Or rather, the last thing he expected was for Naruto to be the one who finally interrupted his mournful solitude. 

“You don’t mind?” Naruto pointed at the spot beside him but didn’t bother to wait for a reply before flopping down to the ground so close their shoulders brushed together. Tenzou peeked at the younger man from the corner or one eye.

“I thought you had a date tonight?” he murmured. 

“Eh, he was boring. Kept going on and on about how I saved the village and he’s so grateful I would even give him the time of day and blah blah blah.” 

Tenzou smiled against his will. “After all those years you put in to making the village recognize you, you don’t like it when they do?”

“Oh for sure!” Naruto puffed up his chest. “I like being someone that others can look up to! It’s just kind of annoying when they treat me like I’m better than them somehow, you know? Just ‘cause I got real strong doesn’t mean I don’t want to have normal conversations and stuff. I’m still just me.” 

More than anyone else Tenzou knew that, it was one of the reasons he had slowly fallen in love, and so he nodded without trusting himself to speak. His silence must have been noteworthy somehow because when he didn’t get a verbal response Naruto turned to lock their eyes together with an unreadable expression. Tenzou knew he could have simply dipped in to the other’s thoughts. He could know everything he wanted to know in just a few moments. Instead, like the coward he was, he merely blinked and waited for Naruto to speak first. 

He didn’t have long to wait. 

“You know...sometimes we build things up in our heads and it gets bigger and bigger until one day you realize it’s just never gonna be the same in reality as it is in your head.” 

“I’m sure if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would have backed off a little,” Tenzou said. Naruto gave him another look he didn’t understand. 

“No, I wasn’t talking about that guy.”

“Oh.” At a loss, he turned his face away and looked back up at the stars. “What were you talking about then?” 

For a long minute Naruto said nothing and the feeling of expectancy that hung in the air between them was honestly baffling. It was hard to imagine what the other might be waiting for without reaching across the connection between them to listen firsthand. Forcing himself to have patience, to his shame, required falling back on some of the old repression techniques he had learned under Danzo’s rule.

“I was talking about you.” 

Only five words, a simple message delivered in quiet tones, but they stole the breath from Tenzou’s chest as he whipped his head back down again to stare at the man beside him. 

“W-what do you mean?” he asked breathlessly. Naruto was grinning openly in amusement. 

“You know that this connection thing works both ways, right? I know I’m kind of a knucklehead but I’m not really stupid, dattebayo!”

“I...I never…”

Waving a hand to cut him off, Naruto chuckled a bit. “You didn’t know I knew. I know. We can both hear each other’s thoughts and stuff so, I mean, it wasn’t all that hard to figure it out. You were really uncomfortable with it for a long time so I figured you’d be even more uncomfortable if I made you talk about it. Just being friends is still great!” 

“You...but...I…” Now more than ever before it seemed that words were beyond him. 

Because Naruto was right, this connection between them was a two way street. Just as it was for every other pair of soulmates in the world. How that detail could have escaped him for so many years was a mystery - although Tenzou distantly suspected it probably had something to do with willful ignorance. He was grateful for the uncharacteristic patience as he struggled his way through the revelation that he had apparently worried himself in to knots over nothing. For multiple years. Evidently Naruto had figured it out quite early on. Still, once his brain could finally process anything beyond the wild siren noises of panic he couldn’t help but get stuck on something quite specific. 

“Just...being friends?” he managed to get out. To his utter bafflement Naruto flushed, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Should have known you’d catch that, dattebayo. You’re a really great guy! And you’re my soulmate! It’s okay if I like you, right?” The nervous chuckle he made sounded so out of place from someone usually so brash and confident. “But, uh, hey! It’s okay if you’re still not comfortable. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we have to do anything with that if you don’t want or if it still bothers you that I’m younger or something. Just, maybe you could think about it?” 

Tenzou swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat to croak out, “You think of me like that?” A moment later he breathily added, “You know I think of you like that?” 

His answer was a helpless laugh as Naruto shrugged. Either he’d run out of words or he was listening through their link and realized that all these massive bombs he was dropping were just a little too much for an aging and poorly socialized ex-ANBU to handle. Ask him to assassinate the head of another village and Tenzou would approach his given task with a cool head. Ask him to face his own emotions and the only thing he was likely to accomplish was a few weeks of serious but confusing thoughts, no actions. 

Several minutes passed before it was obvious that neither one of them knew what to say next. Naruto had laid all of his cards on the table, he was clearly waiting for some kind of sign for where to go from here, and it took a while before Tenzou realized he would have to provide that sign. Leaving it up to him to drive whatever was happening here was clearly a bad decision.

As he proved when the only thing he could think to do was to lean over and crash his mouth against the younger man’s with all the pent up emotion of someone who had been keeping a secret for more years than he wanted to count. Despite the fact that Naruto had only just confessed to sharing his feelings it was somehow still a jolt to feel him respond in kind with a low groan. With no clue what he was doing Tenzou did something for the very first time in his life; he threw logic out the window and let his emotions rule him. It was something he had always admired about his soulmate, something he’d always wished he could bring himself to do, and later it would occur to him how fitting it was that it was this leap of faith that brought them together at last. 

When the kiss ended Tenzou discovered he was panting with the exertion of his own heartbeat, not embarrassed only because his partner was breathing just as heavily. 

“Yeah?” Naruto mumbled. 

“Yeah,” Tenzou whispered back. Neither of them needed to elaborate. The connection between them had never been so open. All of Naruto’s thoughts streamed in to his mind almost as though the man were projecting them as hard as he could and the sheer happiness they both felt in this moment was enough to quell every fear that might have arisen. 

“For real? We can-?”

Since he really didn’t have any better of a handle on his words yet Tenzou chose actions instead. This time when he moved Naruto met him halfway and both of them had to chuckle at their own awkwardness as their teeth clacked together. It was, somehow, a perfect moment. Just the right way to remind them both that they were human and messy and that it was okay to be those things. Tenzou closed his eyes for a moment just to breath. When he’d come to sit up here on the roof tonight he’d expected nothing more than to spend another few hours pitying himself for the seemingly impossible situation that he’d put them both in. Now…

“All those dates with all those different people,” he ventured slowly. “They weren’t real dates, were they?” 

“Kind of. Lots of people want my attention and it doesn’t really hurt anyone to give them the time of day - so long as I don’t let things go too far. Mostly they just want to say they went out with the hero of the village, not many of them were really interested in me as a person. As long as you were still worried about being together I figured...why not just make all those people happy without actually having to break any hearts?” Naruto looked a little nervous like he wasn’t sure that was alright but Tenzou found himself slumping with relief. 

It really was just like Naruto to give so much of himself like that. And as much as Tenzou had always been fine with Naruto finding companionship in others when he himself had refused to step forward, it was still an odd sort of relief to know the other had actually been waiting for him all along. 

“Don’t break my heart, okay?” he said. 

Naruto didn’t say anything, only pulled him in for a kiss that didn’t miss this time, but he didn’t have to use words. Everything he was feeling was right there in his thoughts. Tenzou reached out to cup the back of his soulmate’s head even as he let his mind sink in to Naruto’s where everything he had ever wanted was right there waiting for him. It was amazing how avoiding these little glimpses as much as possible had denied him what he most desired for so long but what was done was done. There was no point crying over past mistakes. 

Feeling more carefree than he ever had before, Tenzou let the world drift away and filled his mind with the one man he now looked forward to filling his future with. 

[anthropwashere]

Phic Phight: these lofty thoughts are killing me

Prompt from @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter: Undergrowth Sam AU. Sam’s time as mother of Undergrowth’s garden left it’s scars - and scars can go deep. Sam’s always known she shared a close connection with plants, but now she hears them. She knows what they think and what they feel and can control them. On one hand it’s terrifying, but on the other… The ghosts should be a lot more terrified of her now.

@currentlylurking @phicphight

Word count: 4,604

=

Sam tries not to think about then.

Maybe it's better to say she tries not to think about the gaping hole in her memory where then ought to be.

She's hardly the only one in that particular boat. The whole of Amity Park suffers from a ghost-induced amnesia spanning over a week. It's all anyone talks about for ages; where they were when the plants attacked, where they were when they finally woke up again. Trying to make sense of senselessness. And even now, months after the fact, there are still traces of that city-wide attack not yet repaired. Cracked concrete, homes and business too ravaged to salvage, miles of withered vines with thorns like carving knives, enormous mummified plants with mammalian fangs in human mouths, swathes of green-limned ice that refuses to melt even now. 

(Every time one of the three of them finds another frozen chunk of Amity Park Danny moves ASAP to take care of it, since not even anything his parents have cooked up can do much damage to it. The guilt twisting Danny up is horrible to watch unfold across his weary face; made worse still because for all that he and Tucker insist otherwise, it really was her fault.)

There's no hiding it: Amity Park was shaken to its foundations by Undergrowth. Even more so, perhaps, than by Pariah Dark. The Ghost King had transported the entire city directly into the Ghost Zone and did his utmost to run it to ruin with his army of skeleton ghosts. It had been a terrifying and impossible experience, and everyone can agree they only got out of that one thanks to Phantom. But the thing is, everyone in Amity Park can remember Pariah Dark's attack.

But Undergrowth? Flashes and flickers of almosts and maybes at best for everyone involved, and that is somehow so much more terrifying. What did they do? What were they made to do? How many missing and confirmed dead weren't taken by the towering ghost and all its myriad minions, but by one of them? Are they ever going to remember what happened? Is it better if they don't? 

And on, and on, and Sam's right alongside everyone else except in every way she isn't. Yes, she doesn't remember anything. But she knows she's at fault, because Danny told her just so.

Not in so many words, of course. He's too good for that. Too good a person, too good a ghost, too good a hero. He would never lay the blame for anything terrible that happened at anyone's feet but his own. He wasn't good enough, strong enough, fast enough—and on, and on. Never mind that he went and scrounged up and mastered an entirely new subset of powers just to counter Undergrowth—

(and her)

—and never mind the countless lives he did save. People were hurt, and worse, because he thinks he wasn't the hero Amity Park thinks he is. That's just the way he is.

Undergrowth was wrong. Sam knew that. She knew that. He was too extreme, too insane, too insistent on terraforming the entire planet to suit his self-aggrandizing whim to consider the consequences for whatever else lives here. Not just self-centered jerks with their gas-guzzling cars and plastic, one time use lives. There are so many people out there who understand what Sam's trying to do here in Amity, who do so much more to fight the ceaseless grinding up of Earth's finite resources than what one fourteen year old can do on her own. There are good people in the world fighting the evil and corrupt and greedy. There’s good in this world. You can't just—wipe the slate clean and start fresh.

You can't.

=

Sam remembers—the first attack. 

Sam remembers—waking up after it was all over. 

She remembers feeling sick and sluggish. Boneless. Dizzy and swooping like she'd downed too much cold medicine. Limbs slow to react, her thoughts even slower. She remembers her surroundings like a badly dubbed old kung fu movie; everyone moving at exaggerated angles, their voices not matching their mouths. She remembers Danny blinking too quickly, like he was trying not to cry he was so glad to see she was okay.

She remembers thinking with a cold and sullen fury, How dare he? 

What the fuck? had followed right on the heels of that, thankfully, because she’d had no idea why she'd ever in a million years be so angry with her best friend.

She remembers—knowing time had passed. Too much time. A dangerous and scary amount of time. And she remembers looking around and seeing the city halfway destroyed. And she remembers—

—guilt.

Guilt that made no sense until Danny, hours and hours later, faltered through an obviously edited summary of the week Amity Park forgot. She and Tucker had both blinked at him, and at each other, horrified and dismayed to find that Danny had had to do so much all on his own, that they'd been so vulnerable, so useless—

—but there'd been no guilt in Tucker's expression. No sign of the guilt that tangled up her guts in a cat's cradle until she was certain she'd throw up—

—and then she did have to throw up, staggering off to the bathroom in her basement, barely able to slam the door and fall to her knees before the toilet in time. She hates throwing up, hates the sweating and the shaking, hates the smell and the sound, hates how no matter what something always gets stuck in her nose. She'd screwed her face up tight so she didn't have to watch, rode out the worst of it, then sat there breathing wetly and hating life for a minute.

One of the boys had knocked gently on the bathroom door. "You okay?"

"Guh," she replied, throat hurting terribly at the effort. 

Sam remembers—opening her eyes, and the fear, and the confusion, and the certainty that she couldn't tell anyone, ever.

The toilet bowl had been full of flowers. 

=

That hasn't happened since, and—as far as she can tell—there haven't been any health issues that could have sprung up from having an indeterminate amount of flora taking root in her digestive system. 

She hasn't gone out much since then. School, patrol, the ghost attacks that invariably spring up outside of when she's penciled in time for a little extra chaos. She's made up excuses whenever Danny and Tucker invite her to hang out. She hasn't gone shopping or to a movie or any other perfectly normal after-school activity.

She's not hiding.

She's not.

It's just... easier, to not be around people any more than the barest necessity. At least until she feels... settled again. Normal again. For her, and for whatever 'normal' is worth in a town regularly terrorized by bigger and toothier and crueler ghosts with every passing month. It's fine. Danny's got Tucker and Jazz for the attacks that she's slow to arrive for, and Danny is—

Danny can handle himself. He's strong. He's amazing. He took Undergrowth—

(and her)

—down all on his own, no power suit or ghostly backup needed. It's fine.

Her parents seem to have miraculously caught on for once that she really does need some space; after the initial handsy-hugsy panicked relief the first couple days after Undergrowth, they gave her space (and anything else she asked for too, for that matter), only prodding her gently to come inside to eat now and then. Which she's grateful for, really, because she's pretty sure she wouldn't remember to eat at all without some prodding.

Something about eating rubs her wrong, now. The resistance of a carrot clenched between her teeth, the juicy flesh of an orange slice bursting under pressure, rice grains squirming like maggots on her tongue. She made a salad two days ago and couldn't stop thinking of the glamorized crime scenes from all those police procedural shows on TV; oversaturated, garish, someone's life torn open in a tasteless arrangement of stiff limbs. 

A cabbage is not a person. Cucumbers are not people. Almonds are a good source of protein.

Damn it.

Most of the time she hides—relaxes—in her greenhouse. Tucker had cracked a joke about that, though it had gone in one ear and out the other. Something something, bad taste. Blah blah, she's gone native. Didn't I tell you plants are the enemy?

Danny had laughed. Sam had to fight to keep her hands loose at her sides, to let it roll off like it didn't hurt while she tried to remind herself that it shouldn't hurt. That had earned her another tally in the ‘needing time away from people’ column. Not like, total isolation. School. Patrol. Dinner with her parents and grandma. She still does things with people. But every minute she's not in her greenhouse she feels this—this hand around her heart. This tightness that squeezes just enough that she's never not aware of it, and it's become so, so much easier for her to startle, to flinch from loud noises, to find herself overstimulated by her friends laughing as she is people screaming in the wake of ghosts. The hand squeezes until she can hardly breathe, and she thinks of the flowers she'd thrown up and thinks of roots, and thorns, and the fragility of her lungs, and it gets so hard to breathe—

Nobody's caught her breaking down yet. She hopes she can keep it that way. She hopes she can get over this—this anxiety, or fear, or whatever this is. 

But for all that she spends so much time in her greenhouse, the only place she doesn't feel that hand around her heart, she can't really say she's all that relaxed there either.

=

Another day put between then and now. Life around Amity Park is just about back to normal. If she's feeling generous with her definition of normal, anyway. She's made it through school without any issues and now she's free to hide—relax!—for a few hours in her greenhouse before one of her parents will come tapping at the door.

"Hey guys," she says, lackluster.

The whole greenhouse shivers at the sound of her voice.

Yep. That's totally normal. Nothing weird about that at all!

Ugh.

She goes through her after-school checklist by rote memory, biting her tongue to keep herself from the usual silly commentary she used to say along with it. She's learned better.  Undergrowth did—something to her. Something she's lied through her teeth about to Danny and Tucker, assuring them that she's fine, she's normal, there aren't any lingering effects from—whatever it was. Is. She's different now. Not outwardly, not in any of the ways Danny risks being discovered as inhuman every single day. She's not like Danny. She's still human.

She is.

But she can still do inhuman things. Or—not do. Nothing as active as ghost rays or flight or anything fun. But she can—influence. She still has an inhuman influence, and it's all she can do to keep her garden still.

Even with her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw aches and a headache blooms—nngh—at her temples, the slightest graze of her fingers across a leaf makes whatever plant she's touched quiver. When she picks up her pruning shears to clean up the tomato plants she can see them flush bigger and brighter before her very eyes. There's the tiniest, softest—niggling in the back of her mind, an itch on her teeth and goosebumps down her skin.

(mother)

She drops the shears. Before she can move to grab them a tendril of healthy green leaves curls off of the trellis to pluck them up out of the dirt and deposit them neatly in her numb hands again.

"...Thanks," she grits out.

All of the tomatoes swell to the size of tennis balls, their leaves straining to catch up. Two of the nearest ones split their blood red skins open to beam beatifically at her. There are teeth in their dripping grins, or something shaped enough like teeth to curdle her stomach.

"Stop."

The grins shrink, though the seams remain. She resolves to never eat those two. The thought of throwing them out however, is almost as revolting. She leaves without finishing the after-school checklist, opting to hide in the basement bowling alley with her grandma until dinner. It's not half as relaxing as it used to be.

=

She can't avoid her greenhouse. Not even for a day. Her garden needs daily attention. It needed it—before. 

It did.

Now the thought of ignoring it, even for an afternoon, makes her physically ill. So she doesn't know if it's guilt for not finishing her after-school checklist earlier or something—else, something left in her from then—

—she tries, she tries, she tries to remember anything from then, but there's only—

—hunger, and anger, and pride for her—

—her—

—her children. 

Nothing concrete. Nothing real. Nothing she can make use of. All she knows is that she's different, and it's most obvious here in her chil—

—garden. Her garden.

They won't hurt her. No matter what she says or does, this she knows for certain. Her garden will never hurt her.

Somehow, that isn't as comforting as it should be. All she can think of are teeth sinking into meat, and the sound of a scream, and splattering—

And she has no idea if Undergrowth made her order the—the—the children to kill someone, or if he goaded her into doing it personally. And she doesn't know which is worse. 

It's night now. Late. After patrol. Her cell phone is an intrusive blue glow in her greenhouse, the only light she dare use in case one of her parents is still awake. For all that they've been weirdly accommodating since then, she doesn't want to push her luck. It's a school night, after all. It's hardly any light at all to go by, really. She's tempted to pull up the flashlight app at least, but—

(hello hello)

(mother's back)

(we missed you mother)

—it's maybe safer to do this in the dark. For all that her throat closes up when she hears a loud rustling sweep through her greenhouse. For all that her feet feel like dead weights as she drags them across the dirt floor until she's stood in the center. In the heart of her domain.

She breathes. 

"I hear you," she whispers.

The rustling grows louder, and louder still. Tables creak under growing and shifting weights. Shadows move closer into the faint light of her cell phone. A hundred or more whispers settle in some weird space between her sinus cavity and her brain, heard like something from the cusp of a dream. Mother, they all say. We love you, we love you, we're here for you.

Her legs give out, but something cool and dry catches her before she can fall. She clings to it, swallowing a shriek. They won't hurt her.

They won't.

Now she just has to make sure they won't hurt anyone else either.

"That's right. I'm your—ha." She buries her face in her hands, feeling somewhere between playing pretend and outright deranged. "Ha ha! Can—this is—can you call me something else? Please? I'm way too young to be anybody's mom, let alone my own personal—shit, I dunno. All of you. Just—call me Sam."

That earns her a whole bass-boosted chorus of Sam! Sam! Sam! until she lets go of the vine-branch-thing to clap her hands over her ears. "Easy! Jeez! Take it down a notch, okay? I really can't—do this—with all of you shouting at me."

Sam! Sam! Sam! gets a lot quieter. Not manageable, not really, since a bunch of plants are chanting her name like she's a rock star, but at least it feels less like she's laid out in a dentist's chair getting worked on without local anesthetic. 

"Okay. Okay. I—" she giggles. This is so stupid. This is so dangerous. "Are you—Undergrowth?"

Shadows chirp no, no, no at her like hulking baby birds. 

"Are you still his, though? If he came back, would you listen to him instead of me?"

No, no, no, they chirp. Something coils up one of her legs, catching on her bootlaces and tickling the back of her knee. 

"No, you're not his?"

Not his, something whispers right in her fucking ear. She recoils, trips over whatever's feeling up her thigh, and gets caught again by the vine-branch-thing. She's pretty sure it's a branch of her orange tree. It smells citrus-y, at least. Splayed ungainly, she tries to get her heart under control. She feels like she's in the middle of a horror movie. It's way too easy to imagine some know-it-all dipshit yelling at her through a mouthful of popcorn. Get out, you dumb bitch! 

Yeah, yeah. She knows. She knows. Messing around with things she doesn't understand is what got Danny zapped in the first place. It's a long chain of events between the accident and tonight, but every step of it's her fault.

"Okay," she says shakily. "Okay. And if he came back...?"

We're yours, her garden croons, humming all at once and all through her in a way that makes it feel like her muscles are coming loose from her bones. We belong to you, our Sam.

She shivers. "L-lucky me."

=

So this is a thing she's got going on now, apparently, and no obvious way to make it stop. At least, not any way that wouldn't require her to tear her greenhouse apart down to the last garlic bulb, which would be extraordinarily expensive, extraordinarily alarming to anyone who knows her, and extraordinarily too much like a whole lot of murder. Plants aren't people, but these plants sure do like to tell her how much they love her.

So. It's a thing. Talking to plants. Plants that are definitely souped up on whatever ambient juice is leftover from Undergrowth terraforming the whole city. Plants that keep growing mouths full of fangs and strangling vines with thorns longer than her thumb despite her practically begging them to just be carrots, please. It's feeling a little too Little Shop of Horrors for comfort. She keeps emphasizing the strict no meat diet she's got them on, glad that her family's never had any interest in coming in here. You know. Just in case. Thing is though, her concern—so far, anyway—seems pretty unwarranted. Her garden seems happy enough on the perfectly healthy diet of perfectly normal plants. Sunshine, air, water, a good layer of compost. 

They just keep thanking her so feverishly for so little. It's—unsettling. A little bit awful. Maybe more than a little bit. Maybe this psychic connection thing goes two ways, and her garden is influencing her into—what? Feeling guilty? For what? They all seem so happy for the slightest bit of her attention. It doesn't seem like it'll occur to them all that they could ever ask her for more.

Maybe it's not healthy that she's thinking of her plants as thinking creatures instead of some kind of echo chamber for whatever Undergrowth did to her. The longer she lets this go on, the more the voices of her garden feel-sound like her own thoughts. And it's been going on for a while. Long enough that Danny and Tucker have noticed the uptick in her behavior, both commenting in their own ways that they're happy she's acting more like her old self again.

Yeah. Right. Nothing supernaturally weird going on with her at all, no sir-ee!

Still, for all that she can't stop her garden from going the plantae equivalent of full werewolf, she has managed to keep them organized. Well. Bit of seesaw on that. The overcrowding got sorted out by some aggressive behavior. Some very aggressive behavior. She's definitely had one nightmare already, reliving the gruesomely wet memory of having to bodily haul the thing that used to be her prized Venus flytrap off of the thing that used to be her kiwi vine. 

Point is, she has half the number of plants in her garden than she did two weeks ago, which—fine. It's not like she was planning on eating any of them anymore. She's not really—eating much, lately. She's been able to pass it off as no big deal around Danny and Tucker (never in a million years did she ever think she'd be grateful for the Box Ghost interrupting lunch so often, but here she is!), and she keeps reassuring her family that she's gotten into the habit of taking more of her meals in her greenhouse. The truth is she's been eating a lot of cereal and tripling her vitamin intake. Cereal hasn't betrayed her yet, but in a town like Amity Park that's no guarantee.

She knows it's a stopgap measure. Someone's going to find her out, or her garden's going to get ghostly enough for Danny to sense it, or someone will be stupid enough to walk in here and she might actually end up with some real life Audrey II bullshit.

"If any of you start singing, I won't be held accountable for my actions," she threatens one evening, brandishing a trowel. The garden makes a bunch of querying noises at her, tangling around her ankles like an alien's limited grasp of the concept of a pet cat. She's given up wearing leggings entirely, having thrown the last ruined pair away after her parents had gone to bed. She'd bought three pairs of jeans—black, of course—last Saturday when she braved the mall with Danny and Tucker. At least artfully torn jeans are fashionable enough that nobody but her mom is going to think anything odd about it.

"Never mind," she sighs, and gives in to the urge to scratch one of her plants along its spiny sepals. It purrs happily, and soon a whole group of waist-high plants that look like something right out of Poison Ivy's own evil lair are crooning at her for scritches. 

=

She ends up sneaking off on her own to PetSmart an hour before it closes, bailing on patrol for the sixth time since Undergrowth. There's definitely some line between crazy plant lady and weird dog mom she's pole vaulting over, but—whatever.

She buys a lot of dog toys. Her garden especially loves the tug-of-war ropes, but the bright green squeaky bone turned out to be an A+ impulse buy too.

=

It takes a while, and a lot of adjusting, and she still hasn't figured out an alternative long-term diet, but overall things settle. She finds a new balance. She basically sleeps well enough, and her grades are fine, and the ghost attacks don't get too left-field. Danny shoulders most of that anyway these days, more comfortable with his powers and the popularity boost saving the city gave Phantom with everybody. Used to be her and Tucker put in the same hours and effort as Danny—if you don't count the superpowers—but lately? They're better for cover stories and clean-up, which is fine with Sam while she sorts all this post-Undergrowth ghost-plant stuff out. Tucker's just happy he finishes out the semester with the same PDA he started it with.

Of course, all good things are temporary. She really ought to have this figured out by now.

It's a ghost attack that unravels it all, naturally. This one's a new face; some kind of unsettling, skitter-y combination hydra-centipede about the length of a limousine. Its six necks accordion though, and it spits acid. Both are nasty surprises Danny wasn't expecting, and he ends up getting tossed through the front pane of a mom-and-pop hardware store. He'll be fine, though she and Tucker both have to tamp down on their standard panicked 'oh shit our best friend would have absolutely just died if he were normal' reaction to go distract the ghost from going after a minivan. 

They circle around it, shouting nonsensical insults that it probably doesn't understand to get its attention, helped by a few firm blasts of some small ecto-guns they'd pilfered a while back. Only one shot actually gets a hit on something that isn't its purple exoskeleton; Tucker whoops loudly when it screeches in pain. Sam uses the precious seconds to circle around to the other side of the minivan to yank open the sliding door and start manhandling a group of elementary-aged kids in blue soccer uniforms out and into whatever shop is closest. The mom squawks affront until Sam hisses at her to hurry her ass up if she doesn't want to go the same way as the hatchback—thankfully empty—that had ended up wrapped around a telephone pole. That gets soccer mom moving, and they're both just clear of the van before she hears Tucker scream her name. 

She moves on an instinct honed by two years of fighting for her life; she shoves soccer mom hard and whirls around in time to see the roof of the minivan as it comes flipping right at her. "No—!" is all she has time for, throwing up her hands as bolts of neon green strike up in her periphery. The minivan crumples with a horrible shriek of metal and hangs, creakingly, not a foot above her head. She blinks in the sudden shadow, heart hammering in her throat. She expects to hear Danny's voice, either a dry quip or an earnest rush of concern, depending on how hard the hydrapede rattled him.

A nonplussed, "What the fuck," from Tucker is what she gets instead. 

She looks around. There's the familiar ghost-green glow, but it's not Danny's burning hands or headlight-bright eyes. Two thorny vines, thick as tree trunks, have punched through the concrete to catch the minivan before it could crush her.

(mother) she hears them yap at her happily.

Well, shit.

=

The fight wraps up without any other cars or business fronts getting destroyed. Danny makes good use of those ice powers, and in a matter of minutes Tucker's got the thing slurped up in one of the three Thermoses they've gotten in the habit of having on hand, just in case.

Then Danny and Tucker make matched crazy eyes at her and the modern art she accidentally made out of soccer mom's claim to fame.

"Not here," she tells them firmly. If soccer mom figures out there's a chance she could pin her totaled minivan on her—and her incredibly wealthy parents—they'll get stuck here all day. Tucker gets it before Danny does and makes a show of shoulder-checking him pointedly as he jogs off. Danny shuts his mouth and winks out of sight, leaving Sam to jog after Tucker. Which she will, just after she tries something first.

She glares at the two vines—standard curb weeds once upon ten minutes, more than likely—and thinks at them very hard. Thank you, much appreciated, stop calling me mother, go away.

She gets some kind of bizarre-o feedback that feels like chewing on gum with the wrapper still on, and also like skinned knees, but in her brain? Ugh. With a reluctance that shouldn't be so obvious from a couple of plants, the two vines sort of... shrink? Melt? Reverse-grow back into two perfectly normal bits of scruffy green in a totally wrecked stretch of sidewalk.

Good enough! Better than she expected, really! 

Soccer mom starts babbling something very loud about her car, which is Sam's cue to run for the hills. She does so, dreading the conversation she's about to have with her best friends, but also... kind of excited for the next ghost attack?

If she has to deal with having creepy psychic monster plant-making powers, she may as well get some mileage out of them. Right?

[nekoannie-chan]

Venefica

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Witch! Reader

Word count: 1742 words.

Summary: You're one of Earth's protectors, you mistakenly end up meeting Steve and other heroes, what's going to happen between you and Steve?

Warnings: Magic, mentions of nudity.

A/N: This is my entry to the @nastybuckybarnes ‘s Lex’s 7K Follower Challenge with the theme:

“Witch! AU”.

Venefica means witch in Latin.

The reader is a witch, so in the reader’s universe, the Avengers don’t exist.

Loa, Shadows, Dark Dimension is the same.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog. 

Tags: @navybrat817 @saiyanprincessswanie​

Somewhere 

 Once upon a time, there was a princess, so the wicked witch hated her so much that she kidnapped her, a charming prince was willing to save her....blah, blah, blah...

You closed abruptly the book and exhaled frustrated, keeping the secret tired and overwhelming, especially with all the "lies" there were about witches thanks to popular culture.  

No matter what happened, the result was always the same, the last time ended in trials against the witches since then you had agreed that you would not say anything about your existence again, you would simply remain in the shadows protecting the world from any danger. 

You settled in the chair, looked up into the forest, after some incidents you decided to live in a remote place, of course, you knew about the stories that were going on, you didn't care, when you saw some curious one you offered them some of the fruits you harvested, pretending that you were nothing more than a woman who lived in a quiet place.

Then you looked up at the little campfire you lit in the yard to cook one of your potions, the flames glowed strangely, you snort, you knew that meant.  

"There will be problems, the Shadows are very restless, nothing good, I think I should start preparing some things just in case," you told your cat.  

The cat lazily raised his head, wagged his tail and stretched to show his support.

 New York

 "Cap, where are you? Clint questioned.  

"In position, has anyone seen Cloak?” Steve replied as he peeked out to try to spot Tyrone.  

"In the shadows, watching as usual," Tandy replied.  

"We can't miss any chance, if they take the experiment, we'll be in serious trouble," Natasha reminded them. 

Tandy approached carefully and silently, would take advantage to "feed" on the hopes of the opponents and thus leave the way clear to their companions, reached the first, felt powerful as every time he did that. On the other hand, Ty was attentive to the movements of his partner, for no reason would he allow someone to damage her.

Once the road was clear, Dagger informed others that they could already enter, Tyrone took care of taking them to where his partner was.  

Natasha went in with Tandy, the place seemed empty, and they began to suspect that something was not right. The rest waited outside, hiding, in case they had to do some kind of intervention. 

"Guys, this is weird, there's nobody," Natasha reported by the communicator.  

"Don't let your guard down, it can be a trap," Steve ordered.  

They did not count on their enemies having thought of all the possibilities there would be, however, the superhero team never suspected the secret weapon with which they would attack them.  

The girls' screams were heard, without hesitation, the rest of the team came in to help them, they were found unconscious.  

“Ty... I think we should run away, it looks like it's a trap...”

A gas was beginning to appear in the room, they had no idea if it was poisonous or what it might cause them so as Tyrone could wrap covering the team with his cape to take them to safety.  

 Somewhere 

 The team showed up in the woods, Natasha and Tandy woke up, everyone looked confused. 

"Ty, where are we?” Tandy questioned.

"I just thought about going to a place that kept us safe, but there was an alteration in the Loa...” 

“Who are you and what do you want?” You questioned when you saw them.  

They immediately set their sights on the broom in your left hand.  

"Well... we are the Avengers," Tony replied as if it were obvious.  

"The Avengers?" you repeat. 

"Come on, how can you not know us? How can you not meet the famous Tony Stark?” Tony said incredulously.  

On the other hand, Steve didn't take his eyes off you, there was something about you that caught his eye.

"I don't know anyone by that name.” 

"I think we travelled through the Loa," Cloak interjected.  

"Loa? You mean the Shadows?”  

Tandy and Ty looked at each other, probably that's how you knew the Loa, and the others knew it as the Dark Dimension. 

"Yes, maybe there was a glitch and we finished... here," Tandy said.  

"And what do you want? Are you coming to attack or something?”  

"No, no, we were on a mission... we're the good guys, we're superheroes,” Steve replied. 

"Superheroes? Like in the cartoons?”   

"Don't they exist here? So, what are you? Who defends the Earth?” Natasha asked.  

"I'm a witch and that's our job," you answered.

"A witch? Of course, like in fairy tales," Tony mocked.  

"Yes, I'm a witch...” 

"Come on, you're an adult, stop joking," Tony said an annoying.  

"Last week I met with my witch friends and did broom races, which usually have different speeds and even automatics," you made fun of him.   

Steve tried not to laugh, Tony rolled his eyes when he detected the sarcasm of your voice.  

"Sure, sometimes I turn children into mice and so many others I eat them alive and never see their families again and you know, my cat speaks too," you continued and pointed out to your cat who had just come to sit next to you.

This time your tone was serious, making everyone doubt, they still couldn't discern whether you were a friend or an enemy.  

"Are you serious?” Steve a little discouraged.  

"No, I don't do any of that, my cat is a normal cat, well it's very perceptive, but sometimes those stupid clichés are very tired, you know, the typical ones that the evil witch and the princess in distress, that's why I live here... okay, it seems that you are from another dimension, do those stories exist in your world?”  

"Yes, they're very famous, people tell to the little girls," Tandy replied.  

"By the way, I'm Natasha, this is Tandy, the guy in the cape is Tyrone, you know Tony, the one with the shield is Steve, and the one with the arrows is Clint.”  

"Y/N, I suppose now I must find a way to return you to your universe.”  

"Maybe it's not necessary, we can come back the same way we got here," Clint replied.  

"I don't think that's necessary, Ty can bring us back, just as we got here, can you?” Natasha said, looking at him.

"Yes, of course, no problem," Cloak replied for sure.  

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience we caused you," Steve said with a little sadness.  

Everyone came together so Tyrone could cover them with the cape and be able to return to their dimension and finish the mission, they stayed for a few minutes like this until they realized nothing happened.  

"I think... you have trouble getting back from where you came from,” you said.

"No... I don't understand what's going on,” Ty replied confusedly. 

"The Shadows are back to normal, I don't think it's possible for you to return," with your head pointing out the flames of the campfire.  

"What do we do now? Steve questioned.

Without saying anything you entered your house, you needed your divination tools, you could predict those alterations, although that didn't mean they happened exactly like that.  

"Where is she going?” Tandy asked in a murmur.  

"Maybe she's bored of us," Tony replied.  

You came back with the bag in your hand, they looked at you curiously, and you waved the bag and dropped the contents of it on the table.  

“What... is she supposed to be doing? Clint asked the others curiously.  

He didn't notice you heard him, maybe in his dimension, the witches didn't exist.  

"Divination, so we can know more or less when it will be the next alteration in the shadows," you explained by putting your hands on top of the small stones without touching them.

“More or less? So it's not accurate? "Tony wasn't convinced at all.  

"Are you suggesting anything else?” You asked grumpily.  

"Excuse him, he's a little nervous because we were halfway through a mission," Steve excused him.  

"The next alteration will be in two months," you informed them.  

As the days went by, you and Steve started to get closer, he told you his whole story and vice versa.  

The others don't seem too happy to be there, especially because of the mission, although it was confusing, your dimension was too much like theirs, but no one knew them there. Thousands of times Tony tried to create something to come back, nothing worked.  

One full moon night you came out, Steve noticed and went after you.

"Y/N, where are you going? He asked.  

"To pick up some water from the lake," you replied.  

"At this hour? It's something... Suspect.”  

"Why? The water has already absorbed all the magical properties of the moon, it is the exact moment," you explained.  

"Well... in that case... can I come with you?” Steve volunteered.  

You agreed with a smile, it was a little hard to be completely alone with Steve. You walked up the river, once you got there, you started taking your clothes off in front of a Steve dumbfounded by your actions.

"W-what are…are y-you do-doing?” He asked nervously.  

"We're going to swim in the river, come on, take off your clothes," you answered naturally.   

You went into the river, Steve was intimidated, his hands trembled as he took off his clothes, then he walked to the lake. At first timidly, then you began to play with the water until you finally kissed.  

Steve and you had fallen in love, even though there was a huge problem, he wasn't from your world, what would you do when the time came when he had to go back to where he belonged?   

You couldn't ask him to stay with you, you couldn't go with him, both of you had very important missions and you couldn't leave them.  

“What am I supposed to do?” You asked your cat.

The little cat saw you lazily and meowled, you sighed.  

The two months had passed, finally the day there were alterations in the Shadows came, you didn't know how to say goodbye to Steve.  

"Steve...”

"Y/N, I promise I'll find a way back, soon we'll be together again," he told you by holding your hand. 

The rest of your team was waiting for you to leave, you two shortened the space and kissed.  

"I'll be waiting for you.” 

[writing-radionoises]

attraction

ship: shin soukoku / akuatsu, kunikidazai 

genre: slow burn romance

prompt: akutagawa is pining and has no idea what to do about it

notes: ada akutagawa, sequel to satisfaction 

It’s been at least a month since the announcement of Dazai and Kunikida’s wedding, a month since Ryunosuke left that dreaded anonymous love letter on Atsushi’s desk.

And yet, Atsushi has not figured out who wrote the love letter. Or maybe he did, and Akutagawa just didn’t know, or maybe Atsushi is even avoiding him…

God knows, all Akutagawa knows is that he’s locked in the bathroom on his former mentor’s wedding day while Atsushi bangs on the door.

“Ryunosuke, you are coming to the wedding, you fucking lawnmower!” He yells from outside.

Akutagawa puts his head into his hands. He’s ready, he changed up his normal top to a short sleeve white blouse without ruffles, it revealed all his scars and bruises, but it was a cute top that Atsushi picked out. Atsushi even tied his tie, fixed his hair, and everything, but here he was, insecure once again.

“He probably doesn’t even want me there…” Akutagawa responded from the bathroom.

“Then why would Dazai-san invite you?” Kyouka said from outside the bathroom, her tone much softer than Atsushi’s.

Ryunosuke had actually forgotten she was there…

Atsushi sighed, “Even if he didn’t want you at his wedding, which he does, I would want you there. Ryuu-san, pleeease!”

… The truth is, Akutagawa could never say no to Atsushi, especially when Atsushi uses his personal nickname for Akutagawa.

The sound of it alone brings color to Akutagawa’s sickly pale face.

“... Okay,” Akutagawa hesitantly agrees, fixing the little cat hair clip in his hair before unlocking the door to the bathroom and opening it.

Atsushi is in a similar outfit to his agency wear, a short sleeve white button up with the addition of a bowtie instead of a typical tie, as well as tan suspenders instead of black.

Kyouka, on the other hand, is wearing something a little more fancy than Akutagawa and Nakajima, simply because she’s the flower girl. Her dress is a tank top, knee length white dress with a dark blue lace collar, a dark blue ribbon around her waist as well. Atsushi has placed a flower crown of blue hydrangeas on her head, as well.

… She’s quite adorable.

“Are we ready to go?” Kyouka asks.

The trio leave the apartment, and make their way towards Fukuzawa’s house.

--

It’s awkward. It’s horribly awkward for Akutagawa. It’s such a small wedding, it’s really only the agency there, with the addition of some guild members, Gin, Higuchi, and a small appearance from Chuuya before he quickly leaves.

Akutagawa had never felt so much relief seeing Chuuya leave.

He ends up sitting next to his sister and Higuchi, Gin wearing a dress Akutagawa had bought her for her sixteenth birthday a few months ago, and Higuchi wearing a simple suit as they watch Kunikida and Dazai.

Fukuzawa got ordained specifically for this wedding, and probably only this wedding. So, up at the altar are Fukuzawa, Dazai, Kunikida, Atsushi, and Ranpo.

There wasn’t a need for a whole set of groom’s men, so the two best men were picked out and left at that.

… Akutagawa found it hard to look at anything but Atsushi. Looking at anybody else made him feel awkward and out of place.

… But Atsushi was a safe ground, the reason Akutagawa went to this event in the first place.

If it was hard to not look at Atsushi, it was even more difficult to not imagine being up at the altar with him. Declaring vows, holding hands, kissing… It made Ryunosuke giddy, feeling his face heat up.

Kyouka poked fun at him earlier about it, saying that him and Atsushi were probably going to be married next.

It’d be so nice… Akutagawa thought, But I don’t think he thinks of me in that way.

Pining is awful, so Akutagawa has discovered. It’s fucking painful.

When the reception starts, Akutagawa makes a run to the bathroom and locks himself in a stall for at least 30 minutes.

He washes his hands and hand at least ten times, as if trying to wash away the thoughts of Atsushi.

They don’t leave.

--

Akutagawa is sitting at a table at the reception awkwardly, watching Kyouka and Atsushi dance from a distance with some others when Dazai approaches, taking a seat beside Akutagawa.

“You don’t look like you’re having a lot of fun, huh?” Dazai starts.

“... I’m having a hard time with feelings, but congratulations on your marriage. Please don’t let my feelings concern you,” Ryunosuke replied, looking back over at Dazai, “It’s supposed to be a happy day for you.”

Dazai smiles a bit, shaking his head. His attire isn’t much different outside of the flowers in his hair, and a new brooch on his chest. His coat has been forsaken somewhere, probably Kunikida’s car.

“Thank you, but your feelings won’t upset me. I know they don’t have a whole ton to do with me,” answered the brunette, “Your feelings have to do with the kitty cat over there, huh?”

Ryunosuke blushed, looking away from Dazai, “Don’t tell him.”

Dazai lets out a fake gasp, putting a hand to his chest, “Ah, I would never! For this is a Romeo And Juliet tale, a beautiful romance written by Shakespear himself! And yet, I am just a supporting character for sir Romeo.”

“If it wasn’t your wedding day, I would kick your ass.”

Dazai chuckles, “You should, anyway. But anyways, I hope things go well for you, blah, blah, blah, all the other shit you’ve probably already heard. You need anything?”

Akutagawa fell silent, shrugging as he looked back at Atsushi, smiling and laughing with Junichiro.

“I think I know what you need,” Dazai responds, standing up from his seat as he holds his arms out to Akutagawa, “A good, old fashion Dazai hug!” Akutagawa smiles a bit as he stands up, taking the hug from Dazai as he rests his head on his former mentor’s shoulder.

… Dazai’s hugs aren’t nearly as nice as Atsushi’s, but it feels nice to finally get attention from Dazai after all these years.

--

Fuck it, tiger lilies, Akutagawa thought, quickly pointing to them on the menu for the cashier to place the order. He paid for the flowers, and was given a date to pick up the flowers as Akutagawa left the flower shop, pulling out his phone and beginning to dial a familiar number.

“Kunikida Doppo speaking, what can I do for you?”

“How did you tell Dazai-san you liked him?

Kunikida sighed from the other end of the phone while Akutagawa starts his walk down to the train station, “Not even a hello?”

“Hello, Kunikida, how did you tell Dazai-san you liked him?” Ryunosuke quickly rephrased.

“Well, it’s difficult to say because I truly didn’t end up telling him.”

“So he was the one who confessed?” “In a way, yes. We are talking about Osamu here, he already figured out that I loved him through his connections to just about everyone in Yokohama. So what happened was Osamu invited me to dinner, told me he knew about my feelings, and that he returned them. We started dating shortly afterwards,” Kunikida explained.

“Ah, you had it easy... “ Akutagawa replied, nervously tapping his fingers on his knee, “... I can’t seem to get my love interest to pick up on my feelings. They’re oblivious.”

“Hmm, you’re in a tough spot, then.”

“I don’t know who to go to anymore… I’ve spoken to Dazai-san, Higuchi, my sister, now you…” Akutagawa sighed, “It seems like no matter what, they can’t seem to figure it out, and I don’t want to be super blunt about it either… That’s just embarrassing.”

Kunikida fell silent, “I have an idea. To understand someone who is oblivious, you should talk to someone who was oblivious. You should talk to Poe, Ranpo’s boyfriend, they were in a similar situation. Poe might be able to give you some advice.”

Akutagawa smiles a bit as his train arrives to get back to the agency, “Thank you, Kunikida, I’ll get to it. I have to go, have a good afternoon.”

--

“Jinko, please think about this for more than five seconds. Please,” Ryunosuke says sadly, watching Atsushi pause from walking into their shared kitchen with the tiger lillies Akutagawa had just bought for him.

Atsushi turns back to him, “Think about what?”

Ryunosuke feels himself freeze up, trying to quickly come up with a response before eventually stuttering something out, “N, nevermind. Don’t think about it.”

Atsushi gives him a strange look, and then shrugs as he goes to put the flowers in the vase, and Ryunosuke goes to make some tea. His heart aches as Akutagawa pulls down a tea bag, then coughing into his hand.

“You look upset,” Atsushi comments, standing besides Akutagawa. Akutagawa hadn’t even noticed that his face was scrunched up into something of hurt. It’s understandable, but now was not a good time for that.

“... Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to tell you this? You just keep brushing me off, if you don’t like me, please just say it,” he replied, the words fell out of his mouth without a thought. The moment he said it, Ryunosuke felt a wave of regret wash over him as he quickly tried to distract himself, continuing to make his tea.

There’s a moment of silence. Akutagawa can’t bear to even look at Atsushi, so scared of his response, scared to burst into tears just by looking at the other.

“... Ryunosuke. I like you a lot, you are my very best friend. I don’t know what you’re trying to say, though, and I can tell it’s hurting you,” Atsushi replied, his voice is calm and full of worry, “What are you trying to say?”

“Think about it. Just… Think about it, please, Atsushi. I’ve been so obvious, practically the whole agency knows,” Akutagawa pauses to rub his eyes on his sleeve.

Atsushi reaches out and places a hand on Akutagawa’s shoulder, spinning his friend around to look at him. Akutagawa’s eyes are watering as he holds his entire cup in his hand, then setting the cup down on the counter.

“Do you just… Not get it? What else do I have to do? Jinko, this is fucking ridiculous, we’ve been doing this for months now. Are you really this dense?” Ryunosuke said, to which Atsushi fell silent, not responding.

Akutagawa didn’t know what to say, just staring intently at Atsushi with his heart pounding when Atsushi reached out for Akutagawa, cupping his face in his hands and bringing their lips towards in a swift motion.

Ryunosuke is left in shock for a moment, he had never really kissed someone before. Higuchi kissed his cheek once, though that might be the most he’s ever gotten.

… Regardless, it’s nice. Akutagawa quickly relaxes against Atsushi, moving his hand over the one Atsushi has on his face.

And when Atsushi pulls away, Akutagawa has to resist from pulling him back into the kiss. Atsushi smiles at Akutagawa, he is still holding the other’s hand as he speaks.

“Was I right?”

Ryunosuke nodded, “Yes, you were.”

“I didn’t think you actually liked me back,” replied Atsushi.

“... Please say you’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

Akutagawa chuckles, hiding his smile behind his hand, “Jinko, you are dense.”

Atsushi smiles once again as he pulls the other into a hug, “Yup!”

… They are not going to hear the end of this from Dazai.

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Epilogue (1)

.Q.000000073.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2153. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um, hi. It’s me. This is attempt seventy-three at getting this stupid thing to work, blah blah blah, etcetera. I, uh… miss you, wish you were here, all the usual stuff. Love you.”

“Maybe you should, perhaps, at least consider giving up? This is, as you said, the seventy-third attempt at a successful communication, and since it is taking up a considerable portion of your time-”

“No. No way. I’m not gonna give up now. I mean, you helped me build it! You’re seriously gonna let all that hard work go to waste?”

“That was not what I was implying. You could, instead, view the problem from a different angle.”

“Which angle, Enoch?! You think I haven’t done that already?! This stupid machine already has too many damn angles!”

“If you are counting the inner components then there are approximately-”

“Yeah, didn’t mean that literally buddy. But I guess you’re right. Like normal. Ugh... I kinda wish I’d properly thought about this before I- wait, did you hear that?”

“Hear what exactly?”

“D- there! That beeping noise. You heard that, right? I’m not just going insane?”

“I have noticed that you display multiple symptoms of psy-”

“Hold on, it’s still online!”

“Oh. It is.”

“It- It’s transmitting fine, recording smoothly, sound quality’s decent so remind me to fix that but… it’s working. It’s actually working!”

“Well done. But I do have to warn you that this technology should not exist on Earth in this time period.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Right, Enoch, I’m gonna need you to get out of here. This beautiful thing is finally working and I kinda wanna use it before it blows up or something.”

“Of course.”

“Uh… in private? Alone?”

“Oh, I understand. You wish to record your message alone. Without me. In that case, I will take your leave, Director Shaw.”

“See you, buddy. Right. Now I just gotta press thi-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000074.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Um… I… *ahem* This is a message for Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. It’s a for-their-ears-only sort of thing, so if you’re not either of them then… uh… stop listening? No! Actually, if you’re not Leopold Fitz or Jemma Simmons, make sure this message gets to them. Please.”

“...I’m guessing this is Fitz or Simmons listening now. Hopefully both. Well, uh… it’s me! It’s Deke! I can’t believe I finally got this thing to work, haha. Uh… yeah.”

“So… you’re probably wondering what’s going on over here. SHIELD got blown up and- oh yeah, you guys were here for that. Or Nana was I think. It’s been a few years, I can’t remember exactly. Gotta adapt, y’know?”

“Speaking of! The second you guys left I might’ve accidentally become director of SHIELD. Which wasn’t my fault! I was nominated! Besides, I don’t know what was supposed to happen so…”

“Right, how am I sending this message. Funny story, actually. A few months after you guys left, Enoch turned up at my mansion and casually asked if he could murder me. Not our Enoch, by the way, this timeline’s Enoch. And he only wanted to kill me because he said I was this huge anomaly in the fabric of the universe and I could potentially doom humanity by just being here. Which sounds kind of dramatic, but nothing’s happened so far so I’m guessing we’re in the clear.”

“Basically, I managed to convince him that I was a good guy. I told him everything that happened and showed him my scars and everything to get him to believe me. And he did… eventually. He even helped me to build this quantum processor. Since this side is working now, I’m guessing it’ll work on the other end too. I’ve set it up to be like a mailbox that picks up anything that’s sent from the other end, so you won’t have to do the DNA-gene-splitting thing that I had to do to make sure it found you. You’re welcome.”

“It’s only audio for now. The 80s are great, but the technology sucks. And if we wanted to record video then I wouldn’t be able to buy supplies without getting asked about it. Equipment is expensive. Who knew. I’ll try and figure out at least how to send an image because I bet you’re missing my beautiful face.”

“That was the other thing: I miss you guys. It’s strange… I’ve spent most of my life on the Lighthouse and I knew a whole bunch of people there. Then when I came with you guys, sure it felt weird with them not being there, but I never really missed them. Probably because they came from that place.”

“But I miss you every day. Literally, every single day. And I love you. People look up to me here, but I don’t exactly have any family. I’ve got the Deke Squad, I guess, but they’re a different type of family. Not like you two.”

“So um, please send something back whenever you get this. I’ve set it so whenever you send something back, it’ll arrive here straight after I send the message you last listened to. I feel like I’m a time travel master now.”

“So I guess I’ll just… wait here. For your reply. Or just any sort of confirmation that you got this message. I’ll try and send you both a message at least once a week but it’d be great to get something back. I’m looking forward to hearing your voices.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000079.FS.M. D_02.15.1985_1623. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Nana and Bobo, it’s me again. Here’s the thing- it’s been a month. It’s been a whole month which is making me think that it’s something on my end. I’ll try and find the problem and fix it since I’d hate for your messages to get lost in that weird void between me and you.”

“But, if I’m gonna be honest, I realised that I don’t actually have any way of knowing if you guys made it back or not. Heck, I don’t even know if you managed to stop the chronicoms. And since I thought of that, I really can’t stop thinking about it, and it would really help if you could just let me know. Doesn’t have to be a whole message, just a yes or a no would do. You could even shout at me and I’d celebrate.”

“Seriously, if you’re all dead then… then I’m the only one alive. Again. I know I’m like 40 years behind you anyway, but it feels like the Lighthouse all over again! I got brought back from that and I felt like I’d cheated the system. Like- Like I didn’t belong, and I got out fine while everyone else stayed there and still had to suffer whatever’s going on up there. And this time I cheated because I’m the one who offered to stay behind and so I’m alive again while you’re all dead. I should’ve let Sousa do it, at least then I could’ve died with you.”

“No, no. You might be alive. You’re probably alive. I’m the one who’s… just send me something back. Please.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000127.FS.M. D_04.13.1985_1829. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Nana, you won’t believe who invited me to a party! Pegs did! She was like, hey, I need you to be a distraction, you’re coming with me. Which is awesome because it’s like the first time she didn’t insult me in a sentence! Yeah… out loud that sounds kinda sad. But it means a lot to me, and I’m pretty sure you were a fan of Pegs or something? Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Anyway, so, we went to this party and she said that since SHIELD is safe enough to be publicly known again I’d need to meet some guy that would help with finances. So we’re at this party, and Pegs takes me up to meet the guy. I promise, all I did was introduce myself (I was actually trying really hard to be serious and polite) and I asked his name and Peggy lost it. She literally almost fell onto the floor, she was laughing that hard. Yup, you heard me right. Peggy Carter. Laughing.”

“The guy, Harry I think his name was? No, Howard. Yeah, Howard was his name. So this Howard guy looks super offended and asked me if I knew who he was, and I said no because I honestly didn’t, and then Pegs offered to buy me a drink. I know! And she didn’t even yell at me for calling her Pegs!”

“So yeah, that happened. Since then she’s been smiling at me? I don’t know what I did, so I thought I’d throw it to you two to see if you had any ideas. You can boast to your friends that your grandson charmed over the great Peggy Carter.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001032.FS.M. D_07.12.1988_2306. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Bobo, hey Nana. I’m kinda tired so I’ll keep it short today. The Deke Squad got an award today. It’s funny, I was so busy with SHIELD that I’d forgotten that we had that many fans.”

“Having a double life sounds fun, but trust me it’s hard. Ha.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001051.FS.M. D_10.22.1988_0642. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I finally finished my first original song! Are you proud of me?”

“Since we won that award, every night I’ve been having visions of Bobo shouting my head off that all I do is steal stuff. So since I’ve been messing with music for so many years, I figured, how hard can it be?”

“...It’s very hard. But! It’s completed, and it feels good that I can at least announce that to someone. Even if those someones can’t answer me back. But that’s fine.”

“The song’s called Alya, and it’s all about family. That was my Mom’s name, by the way. Alya. I can’t remember if I ever told you that.”

“If you want songs about you, then you’ll have to let me know, okay? Cool.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001132.FS.M. D_11.25.1989_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… Hydra attacked. Big time. We beat them in the end, but we lost a whole bunch of agents. Joe was only nineteen and he told me I was his hero. They shot him in the head, I had to identify his body, and I... And that’s… that’s on me.”

“If only I’d taken that shot when Daisy told me to. I could’ve killed Freddy and none of this would’ve happened. I practically killed all those agents and I… Sorry. You don’t wanna hear this kinda stuff.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001193.FS.M. D_03.09.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m guessing that you aren’t getting these messages so it doesn’t feel as weird to me anymore. And if you are… then I’m sorry you have to hear this. But you’re the only people who I’d want to hear it anyway.”

“Ever since they made me director of SHIELD, I feel like I’ve been faking my way through it. I faked my way through the Lighthouse, I faked my way into money and fame, I faked music for a fake band and I faked knowing how to be a director. I’m just… God, I’m just not cut out for it. People are dying and I can’t stop it. SHIELD needs an actual leader, not a fraud like me.”

“Peggy does a lot, but she’s got her own responsibilities to manage so I get the brunt of it. There’s a few super clever agents that can easily take my place.”

“See, I don’t wanna be director anymore. But if I’m not… I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I don’t have anyone here, I don’t belong here, and I- I’m just nothing when you strip away my lies. And I wish that was an exaggeration.”

“And you know the worst part of it all?! I don’t know whether you guys are even alive! I send you these messages every week and I put my heart and soul into them and they could be just disappearing into nothingness! Then there really is nothing!”

“So… just in case you are listening, I love you. You did so much for me, you gave me a chance when nobody else would. It’s odd saying goodbye to thin air, but hey ho. And if you’re dead, then I guess I’ll see you soo- WOAH!”

“DEKE SHAW YOU LOOK AT ME THIS INSTANT!”

“Hey- Hey, Pegs! What are you doing here?! G-Get out, this is private, this is my house what are you-”

“Shut your idiotic mouth and hand me that gun.”

“Peggy, I-”

“Hand it over, Deke. Now.”

“Fine, here. But listen-”

“No buts, Shaw. Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking?!”

“Director Shaw.”

“Enoch, not you too!”

“Oh. It appears we were just in time.”

“You’re bloody right we were. Thank you, Enoch. You made the right decision coming to find me. Now Deke, you need to talk to me, alright? Whatever’s on your mind. You trust me, don’t y- wait... what is that?”

“This? U-Uh, noth-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001196.FS.M. D_03.14.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Pegs and Jarvis took me on a picnic the other day. Honestly, the number of times people thought I was their son was hilarious. It was like ten different people. You should have seen the look on Peggy’s face when this girl asked what it was like being a mom to the sensation that is Deke Shaw. I can’t wait for cellphones.”

“They remind me of you two, y’know. Pegs and Jarvis. You’re all super sweet and smart and determined and kind and they just really remind me of you. Well, if you were both super old.”

“...Don’t tell Peggy I said that.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001872.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_1108. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“They just invented Zima! I can finally stop pretending to drink! You guys should both drink it in celebration. It’s a big day for me.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001627.FS.M. D_12.17.1991_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Howard Stark and his wife got killed last night. Peggy and Jarvis are broken. I didn’t know them that well since he kind of hated me, but I feel really bad for his son.”

“I think I might go pay him a visit. See if I can cheer him up. Trust me, getting orphaned suddenly like that sucks.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001873.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_2351. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… kinda embarrassing story time. I ordered like 20 crates of Zima, but I couldn’t wait so I went and bought one from the store. And, uh… I couldn’t stomach it. It’s been so long since I actually drank that my body’s given up on me just like everyone else. Which is fine by me, but…”

“Now I don’t know what to do with 20 crates of Zima.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000002309.FS.M. D_09.12.1995_1342. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So some alien woman crashed into Earth this week. It was a pain to sort out, but I sent Coulson and some guy called Fury on the case. Fury has a cool name, but he’s a bit mean sometimes. I guess it’s fitting.”

“Oh yeah, I recruited Coulson. I decided to steer Mack towards more traditional engineering since I’m guessing he’d get sick of SHIELD. I got May though. It’s weird being older than them all and not being able to say anything.”

“Anyway, apparently the alien woman might be Kree? I hope not. I really, really hope not. ‘Cause if she is… well, something about this whole situation already rubs me off in the wrong way. Just… I didn’t wanna hear the word ‘Kree’ ever again.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003295.FS.M. D_05.21.1998_2126. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“We broke up the band today. We had a good run. I wish you could’ve seen us perform at least once. Miss you.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003995.FS.M. D_01.01.2000_0034. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy new year! We’re in the third millennium now so I’m catching up to you! Yeah, I know that’s not how it works, but a boy can dream, right?”

“I tried drinking again but it didn’t work out. Oh well.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000005617.FS.M. D_11.04.2008_1738. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Little Tony turned into a superhero. Iron Man, they’re calling him. I feel like storming into his house and yelling about how much danger he’s putting himself in. He could get himself killed, and then what’ll I do?!”

“...Is this how you guys feel all the time? I don’t like being the responsible one.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010007.FS.M. D_05.30.2012_1519. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Coulson is dead. I- I killed Coulson. There were all these aliens that turned up and we had to try and get the heroes to work together and I asked Coulson and Fury to help a-and that bastard trickster killed h-him. I want to kill him with my bare hands.”

“The heroes teamed up and stopped the invasion. I d-don’t really know why. When I heard about Coulson I just locked myself in. Tony said they fought for me, but that makes no sense.”

“I just… I can’t believe I screwed up so badly. Coulson was supposed to have a good few years ahead of him! H-He was supposed to bring the team together! I’m too old for that now, and I’ve messed up. I’m s-so sorry, but I… Coulson’s dead.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010015.FS.M. D_06.22.2012_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’ve decided to retire from SHIELD. I really, really can’t do this anymore. Besides, I can barely sit up straight. Fury can take over. I just need time to think.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000132907.FS.M. D_01.16.2059_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Getting old is such a pain, right? Dr Dunphy said my time’s starting to close in on me now, and that just sounds so weird to me. All my life I’ve been hopping through time and death just felt so distant. Like I was immortal or something.”

“Guess we know that’s not true.”

“Now’s as good a time as any to surprise you, then. Back when I first met Enoch, we built an LMD version of me. Surprise!”

“Ha, bet you’re not that surprised, are you. Especially you, Bobo. This quantum bridge is just about strong enough to let one person through. Only problem is that once that happens, there’s no chance of communication from either way. And plus I was running SHIELD back then, so I didn’t get the chance to get back.”

“So when I do kick the bucket, Enoch will switch it on and help me get to you. I know it’s a bad thing to say but… I’m really excited to die.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138056.FS.M. D_04.01.2061_0932. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy birthday to me… h-happy birthday to me… happy birthday dear De-eke, happy birthday to… to you.”

“I hope… I hope he has a better life than I had. Give Mom and Dad a hug from me. Do you think… my Mom and Dad will be there once I go? Does the afterlife have timelines? Ha…”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138058.FS.M. D_04.05.2061_1002. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Enoch asked me whether… whether I wanted my life memories or just my… 1985 memories. I don’t want that version o-of me to have all these memories. I don’t want h-him to know he k-killed Coulson…”

“Calm down, Mr Shaw. Try and make sense for your memoir, okay?”

“B-But then I wouldn’t be able to tell you the stories. There’s so many stories I want to tell you, so… he’ll use these memories. There were good times too.”

“I c-can’t wait to see you, Nana, Bobo. See you soon.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138059.FS.M. D_04.10.2061_1425. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hello, Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. My name is Enoch. I am a sentient chronicom from a planet that revolves around a star in the constellation you know as Cygnus. I regret to inform you that your grandson, aged 107, passed away this morning.

“As per his final request, I have sent an LMD version of Deke Shaw to what I believe is your timeline somewhere within a 10-mile radius of your location.”

“Goodbye.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

STATUS:[Offline]

[hot-tea-gardenparty]

Title: Moving On 

Author: coffeeforcastiel

Rating: Mature

Length: 1,564 words

Pairings: Dean x Castiel, Destiel, Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen

Warnings: Mild sexual content

Summary: Dean and Castiel decide to move out of the bunker, but it is harder for Dean to go through with than he had first assumed it would be.

Note: I am trying to hold out hope that Season 15 will treat Castiel right and give him the ending he deserves...but that’s never been SPN’s strong point has it? To deal with the emotions I’ve been having, I decided to write down a silly little future fic that lays out a bit more of a positive path for our beloved Dean and Castiel to tread down. It’s just how I envision my dream Destiel scenario that I wrote in around 2 hours...I hope you all enjoy it.

Dean walked down the hallway of the bunker, his hands carrying the last of the large dusty boxes full of occult books from storage to eventually be plunked into the waiting U-haul in the garage.  It was weird to know that him and Cas were leaving, moving to be closer to Sam and Eileen and newborn nephew…that they bought a house…that they’ll be ‘normal’. Well…normal enough. They would still be hunters, albeit on call and semi-retired, and their ‘new’ house was actually an old, run-down, reportedly haunted 1890’s fixer-upper at the end of an old gravel road and on over an acre of untended land an hour away from Sam’s home in the suburbs of Topeka.

So they were getting closer to normal but not fully there. And that sat just fine with Dean. Who needed normal? Normal is boring. Normal is giving up. And dammit he wasn’t giving up. He was just moving on….or at least, that’s what Cas keeps telling him.

“We still own the bunker and no one else besides Jodi will have access to it.” Sam said on the phone that morning, “You’ll only be a couple hours drive from it.” Dean had stayed silent at that, so Sam kept going, “You’ll be able to wake up to sunlight, have a yard….we can’t be hunters forever Dean.”

Dean had wanted to retort but couldn’t think of the right words to say to make any kind of reasonable or respectable point. Deep down he knew Sam was right…but admitting it was hard and made his heart ache.  

Setting the box down gently on the map table, Dean took a deep breath and let his eyes rove around the bunker for what he knew would be the last time in a long time.

So many memories. So much emotion. So much history locked in these underground walls.

After Chuck had been trapped away years ago, Dean and Castiel had finally admitted their true feelings for each other and shared their first kiss between the stacks of books in the library. Dean smiled as he thought back to how nervous he had been to kiss Castiel, how much he shook as he ran his fingers through Cas’ hair and pulled him close. Castiel had, immediately following the fight between them and Chuck, chose to become human by giving up his grace to Jack.  The next few weeks, Dean aided in Castiel’s transition to his new human emotional spectrum, taught him how to cook a slamming grilled cheese in the kitchen and forced him to binge watch his DVD’s of Doctor Sexy in the Dean Cave.

Sam and Eileen got married outside in the forest clearing above the back end of the bunker’s roof. Cas had officiated and, to Dean’s selfish delight, looked incredibly handsome in his new dark grey suit and ice blue tie. It was that evening, after shooing away the drunk reception party, Dean pushed Cas down onto their bed with hungry kisses, and they made love for the first time. Once that door had opened, there was no way to close it. No way to take the years of pent up emotion, tension and strife and swallow it all back down.

Dean could feel his cheeks start to color as he realized that he and Cas had kissed, touched and…well…bumped the nasty, all over the bunker. On the map table, in the library, up against the hallway walls, in the shower (so many times), against the stairwell railing, covered in flour in the kitchen, in the chairs in the library, on the mats in the gym, in the backseat of the Impala and embarrassingly, once down in the dungeon during a rather steamy roleplay scenario.

A hand suddenly came down on Dean’s shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts, “What are you thinking about?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean shook his head, smiling awkwardly and moving his palm to sit on top of Castiel’s on his shoulder, “Uhm nothing all that important…just, uh, I’m gonna miss this place.”

Castiel nodded as Dean kissed the top of his hand, “We all will.” They pulled apart and Castiel walked over to the box forgotten on the map table and glanced inside at the pile of books. “Are you going to give these to Sam?”

“That was the idea.” Dean replied as he turned towards the winding iron stairs that lead out to the garage, only to pause and turn back to mention, “We need to flip the breaker. Can’t have the lights on when no one’s home.”

Castiel quickly palmed over the books and looked at Dean quizzically, “These books are on occult witchcraft…are you sure it’s safe for him to have these books with the kids around?”

Dean was already halfway up the front stairs, “You know he probably has a locked bookshelf hidden away from the kids, Cas. It’ll be fine.”  

“Right.” Castiel grunted as he hefted the box into his arms and followed Dean up the stairs and into the entry hallway, the large steel door of the bunker slamming shut behind him and echoing down the tube-shaped cylinder cutting through the dirt to the surface above. The half-moon, ribbed steel and tin walls of the entry corridor reverberated Dean’s footfalls as he and Cas neared the breaker panel near the far end.

With a deep breath, Dean slowly tapped the switches off, one by one, room by room. Each click deafening in the looming damp until they stood in only the clean, white light from Dean’s cell phone flashlight.

Muscle memory led Dean and Cas back through the tunnel to the heavy, dark metal door and out to the open garage, sunlight beaming in and glittering over the multiple old cars lined up in rows, dusty from years of little use. Castiel quickly placed the final box of books into the rented U-Haul and slammed the doors shut, leaning up against the trailer back to look towards Dean, his face knowing and soft.

Dean smiled sadly, “Is it that obvious?”

Castiel shoved his hands into the pockets of his belted black jeans, his tight black t-shirt pulled across his shoulders as he shrugged, “It’s understandable to want to hold off the inevitable.” His voice echoed slightly in the wide-open space, “The emotions you are feeling are valid, Dean.”

“I guess I didn’t think it’d be this hard.” Dean chuckled and shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the fog of loss. “I should be able to just get into that truck and drive away without a shit to give.”

“Maybe.” Castiel acknowledged with a tip of his head, dark brown hair catching the tips of sunlight as he walked up to Dean’s front, “But we aren’t in any hurry.” He tipped his face, blue eyes catching onto emerald green, “And you know this isn’t really the end.”

“Yeah yeah…” Dean stated with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand, “It’s a see you later, not a goodbye, we’ll still be hunters…blah blah yadda yadda.” He sighed and rubbed his face with his palms, “I know all that but it still seems like…” Dean looked down at Castiel, at his partner’s few days old stubble that was greying at the temples and the lines of age softly cutting through the skin near his eyes and mouth, “It’s just hard to accept that this part of my life is over.” Dean trailed his fingers down the sharp line of Castiel’s jaw, his thumb resting and pressing against his bottom lip. “That this part of our life is over.”

Castiel blinked slowly as he continued to look into Dean’s face, his eyes glimmering and clear and holding just as much of the restrained power and intelligence behind them as Dean remembered seeing the first time they met in the broken-down barn all those years ago. Dean felt Castiel’s hands settle on his waist, their warmth radiating through his old flannel button up, “Every human life goes through phases…chapters….” Castiel’s close-lipped smile pushed Dean’s thumb, still on his lower lip, up towards his cheek bones, “It’s time to start a new chapter. The next phase. Just like we have many times before.” He cleared his throat, “But it doesn’t mean we will completely forget everything that happened prior. How could we?”

Dean nodded and breathed in the cool, early morning air, “When did we get so sappy?”

They shared a quiet chuckle and Dean brought his lips down to meet Castiel’s for a chaste kiss. “Not sappy.” Castiel mused, “But totally pathetic….yes.”

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed the trailer’s keys out of his back pocket. Leaving a palm on the small of Cas’ back, he took one last long look at the bunker garage. It was time. “Dammit, let’s get out of here before I change my mind.” He sighed, turning quickly and jumping into the driver’s side of the trailer cabin, the jolt of the engine echoing through the cavernous garage.

Through the rearview mirror, Dean watched as Castiel closed both sides of the garage and bolted them shut with warded padlocks, heavy chains and double checked the incantations scrawled in the rocks surrounding the bunker’s entryway.

“Everything okay?” Dean asked as Castiel climbed into the passenger’s seat.

Castiel nodded, “Seems so.”

Dean took a deep breath, “Then how about we get out of here?”