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#in my head it was clever and a little punk
yeoldwebkinzcollector · 3 months
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A two in one update! My two girls Kiwi and Penny! I got them both on christmas when i was younger, so they're a bonded pair
fun fact about kiwi's name; when i got her, i wanted to name her after plants bc she was green, but i didn't want to name her flower because that was too basic. so i thought long and hard before coming up with the perfect name......Weed!
my mom made me change the name and i was pretty grumpy about it, but looking back it's really funny. i settled on kiwi shortly after that
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Okay so now that the Black Swan story quest has officially dropped the lore that Sampo IS in fact a part of the Masked Fools, I think now is the best time for me to present to you my thoughts on what Sampo's fool's mask should be.
Bear with me now, this is going to sound stereotypical, but I have my reasons. I think Sampo's mask should be that of a black cat.
Aesthetically? Flawless. It will make his green eyes pop, go great with the blue hair, and gives the designers an opportunity to give in to the slutty punk goth aesthetic they were kind of already cultivating.
Thematically, I think this is very appropriate because black cats, while nowadays mostly considered to be "bad luck" were initially more about the change of luck. If a black cat crossed your path, your luck would be fated to change, whether for better or worse. As he says, where there is business, there is Sampo. People with cash will suffer because he will sell them junk. People in a bad situation can be taken right out of it by Sampo, but may have to pay a price. He brings luck and he takes it away with a clever word and a flick of the wrist. To a certain degree, encountering Sampo in the story has consistently been in line with this notion! We were having a good time exploring when we found him in the snow, and he got us into an altercation with the Silvermane Guards. Later when we were in a really bad pinch trying to escape Bronya and the guards, he whisked us away (along with Bronya, changing her luck in the process too). When we were in need of a guide to the surface willing to get us in touch with Serval? Sampo to the rescue. Trouble with stolen artifacts during the museum event? Sampo was at the source. Still need help at the museum? Sampo is your man. One can even argue that our luck turning sour on Penacony only started happening after encountering Sparkle disguised as Sampo which can count if you want. Either way, Sampo is a tricksy little creature and luck follows silently in his invisible footsteps.
Therefore I think black cat imagery suits him very nicely, especially with his whole slinking around through dark alleys and knowing the ins and outs of places and always carefully eluding situations that could end poorly. Probably has nine lives and claws to deal with anything he can't wiggle out of. Just as willing to steal scraps as he is to indulge in given treats. Terribly charming in that same way that cats who know they've caused you trouble are, making huge innocent eyes at you until you shoo them off with a sigh. Always capable of appearing when you least expect it and turning the whole situation on its head.
Point is, in my humble opinion, they need to give Sampo a black cat aesthetic for his Fool form because I think it is classic and fits him.
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hello! I really liked your character analysis, especially Hobie and the interactions with Diane (she´s very groovy and beautiful n.n) so, I wanted to ask you if you think Hobie could make good friends with someone with a symbiote and the symbiote itself, my spidersona (symbiotesona?) is one of those. I know there´s some story between Hobie and symbiotes in his universe but I couldn't find the comics where it is explained.
You're amazing and keep going!
Oh absolutely!
Especially for Hobie - He has a symbiote dog!
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Hobie is accepting of everyone (he's the best I love him) even symbiotes!!
In his universe, V.E.N.O.M was used in his universe as a weapon for President Osborn's police force - but I think Hobie would see the underlying greed and cruelty of the cops as the problem, and not the symbiote.
If anything I think he'd really respect your sona -
Cause that takes a lot of mental fortitude, and moral and strength in general so he'd be like 'That's fucking metal.'
If there's side effects, or conflict between your sona and the symbiote - I think he'd always want to help, and would like, speak to them as separate people lol
He knows that sharing the same body doesn't make them the same person, and that your sona was full person before the symbiote, so he would see them as a Duo - like two partners in crime.
He'd be really careful about his music playing and volume cause he wouldn't want to hurt your sona, so he would always give a heads-up.
Diane would be SO interested - and she'd probably have to think about SO MUCH, get prepared for a lot of questions!
Diane is pretty clever - but a little naive, so she'd be solidly in the 'All Aliens Come in Peace.' Star Trek started in 1966 - so Diane basically grew up with it around.
A symbiote is something alien, so it can't be murderous and evil - even if it eats people. It's not from here!! Don't be mean to them!!!
If your symbiote eats people, or needs meat, Diane would..honestly not be that freaked out. She'd have to think about it.
"So, Do you eat people on your planet?"
"Well, I guess that's not too bad. I mean..some people have a pet pig, some people eat pig, some do both. So it's like..the same, right? Not that you see humans as pets, you know -"
If humans can not snap and eat their pets and stuff, maybe this symbiote knows food from friends like them! If anything, Diane would be upset if people rushed to judge your sona OR the symbiote.
Her defense : "They didn't ask to come to this planet!" or Hobie's favorite -
"Why are you shaming them! They're not the only immoral ones. There is no ethical consumption under capitalism!!"
Hobie knows she is just repeating something she heard him say one time - and that is NOT what that phrase means, but he thinks its funny, so he lets her say it.
The three (four - actually) could have so much fun!
Hobie would probably get them hearing protectors so they can hang out backstage without getting hurt.
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And y'all can deck it out with cool stickers and punk marker graffiti!
And although beef and stuff probably doesn't compare, Diane would still try making stuff like beef tartare, koi soi, or other raw meat dishes, just to see if they like 'em!
She LOVES sushi, so sashimi is a must to try - She'd want everyone to feel included at the potluck - it's only right, nobody leaves hungry!!!!
[Also thank you so much for the sweet words!!! I know I take literally forever to go through my inbox (it takes me very very long and im gonna point at adhd) but these things really brighten my day and give me the inspiration to keep sharing. It means a lot, thank you!!]
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yinsuniverse · 11 months
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King the wildfire imagine.
/-"Papa?" The child called out for him,King stops "Yes my love?"He pulls the child into his arms and kisses the top of her head.
/- He Slightly chuckles, "I don't like that you call me that but I love that you do"
/-"How did you meet Mama?" King chuckles as he begins to tell their story "Y/n and I met in Punk hazard, we were both kept locked in a lab with the world government. They tortured us, tested on us, studied us and tried to weaponize my flames"
/-King continues with his story "Y/N and I were both able to escape thanks to kaidos help. I helped him burn down the other buildings on the island which were holding other devil fruit users. After we escaped, Kaido named me King and I have been his right-hand man ever since"
/-"Your mother is a different race from me,However she isn't human but that's a story she will tell you.."
/-"So she can't make flames.. Mama is boring"King chuckles "No no, not like that" he clears his throat "Y/N's beauty outshines the flames I create from my hands" he gives the child a soft kiss on her head.
/-King laughs "Phoenix, don't call mama boring, she's got plenty of talents of her own. They might not be flashy like mine, but she's very clever when it comes to science and medicine. "
/-"I feel like your avoiding my question papa.." Phoenix crosses her arms, King frowns for a good minute.. he pauses for a second then looks at Phoenix "Phoenix, what are you asking me?" He looks down at her with a stern face
/-"Papa how was i made?" King's face darkens when Phoenix asks her question, he holds her by her shoulders "Phoenix, let's not ask questions like that.. the past is best left alone" he says trying to steer away a conversation about it.
/-"Your probably not even my real papa.." Phoenix mumbles,That comment triggers something in King and his rage quickly builds "What are you trying to say? Do you think I'm not your true Father?!" He growls, his flame burning out of control on his back.
/-"I am your Father. And whether the world thinks so or not I will always come back for you! You are my daughter and that will never change" As he growls his flame continues to grow.
"I'm sorry papa.. I was just angry" The child lowers her gaze,King closes his eyes, calming himself down and his flame slowly starts to fade "Don't do it again,You're my everything and I will not let anyone tell you differently"
/-As long as I live, no matter the cost, I will protect you.. my little Phoenix"
A/N: I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected I'll try to improve!
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scarletwritesshit · 6 days
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💊 Kotone Shiomi x Shinjiro Aragaki 💊 Pain In My (Our) Ass
It felt a little lonely waiting for those gutter rats to drop by. Shinjiro wouldn’t admit that in a million years, however. The alley cats were always oh-so-tempting to befriend, but he couldn’t let them catch him in such a position. Not like they would really do anything, but it was more because he had no interest in becoming more of a laughing stock to them than he already is.
Shinjiro crossed his legs, stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, and huffed. They’ll show up whenever they felt like it, so no use holding them to any timely expectations.
He heard footsteps approaching, but not from the usual direction. It was probably just some punk ass passersby, he thought. He paid no mind as he continued waiting for those rats to show up.
Unfortunately, the source of the sound wasn’t from just any "passerby." It was worse. Way worse.
It was from one of his own teammates. His leader, in fact.
"There you are, Shinji!" Kotone shouted. "This is where you’ve been hiding?"
"You were looking for me?" he asked.
"Of course! You have a tendency to disappear on some nights without telling anyone where you’re heading."
"You of all people should know that I can hold my own."
"Sometimes, I doubt that," Kotone said, inviting herself to sit directly next to Shinjiro.
Shinjiro grumbled and crossed his arms, yet did not shoo Kotone away. This was the company he was secretly desired; it would be nonsensical to push her away now. It was unfortunate that she would find out about the source of his suppressants in such a way, but it wasn’t like she was unfamiliar with their existence. He used them on Chidori once prior, so the cat was well out of the bag at this point.
"Doubt that? I’ve made it this long on my own… a little late-night walk before the Dark Hour never hurt nobody."
"Alone with the exception of those," Kotone said, nudging the coat pocket in which Shinjiro kept his suppressants.
"Tch. It’s for our own good. Trust me."
"What do mean by our own good? Don’t those things slowly kill you?"
"Why do you care so much?"
"I’d hate to see you, or any of my friends, die prematurely."
"Trust me. You won’t be missing much with me gone."
"I’ll miss you, which I think that’s a lot."
"…Idiot," he said, completely caught off guard.
Shinjiro looked away, a bit embarrassed at how much Kotone seemed to care for him. Rather than be offended, Kotone smiled and gave him a loving pat on the arm. She leaned close against him, practically gluing herself to his side so Shinjiro couldn’t even force her away if he tried. He did not protest one bit, in fact, he had no intentions of resisting. His main focus was attempting to keep his cool around her, so much so that his original reasoning for waiting in the alleyway had slipped his mind.
Unfortunately, he was reminded of his mission a bit too late once he heard a pair of footsteps approaching his location. Shinjiro was snapped back to reality by the sight of Takaya and Jin staring him down, only this time, they appeared thoroughly amused rather than starving for payment. Shinjiro was praying that, at the very least, they would take a rain check for their collection of intel. Kotone was the last person that he wanted to find out about their questionable exchanges.
"Was that a smile I saw ya holdin’ back?" Jin teased.
"...Hurry up and hand em’ over. I ain’t interested in playing your games," Shinjiro said.
"Winning over the heart of your leader so that she would allow a deranged mutt like you to stay. How clever…pitiful, even." Tayaka teased.
"I don’t have time for this,” Shinjiro said, attempting to shoo them away as fast as possible.
Get the suppressants and quickly clear the air with Kotone before Strega lands him in deep trouble with the entirety of S.E.E.S. That became his top priority. Not to mention, he was concerned about Kotone deciding to take a literal stab at them herself, though understandable as to why she would, he had no other means of acquiring the suppressants. Losing their lives could lead to countless more murdered if Castor rampages without a means of subduing him.
Kotone blinked at them with curiosity, rather than blatant hatred. Odd. He would’ve thought that she saw them as cold-blooded enemies to be struck down on sight. Perhaps keeping Chidori under their care had altered her perception of Strega as a whole.
Perhaps she was simply too kind. A kindhearted soul who cared even for someone like himself. Bastard. Shinjiro had to shake off these thoughts immediately. He couldn’t allow his weakness to seep through. Especially not in front of Strega.
"Why, got a hot date with your leader?" Jin sneered.
"Just give me the damn suppressants."
Jin and Takaya exchanged glances, as if they were attempting to silently communicate their next move while within the presence of the S.E.E.S. leader. The two of them exchanged clueless shrugs but not a single word of discussion. Then, Jin tossed the suppressants to Shinjiro.
"You owe me," Jin barked.
"Figured as much," Shinjiro said, catching the pill bottle.
Without another word spoken to him and Kotone, Jin and Takaya turned around to walk back the way they came. Takaya was highly uninterested in what was brewing between those two, but Jin was plagued with lingering curiosity.
"...Ya really think those two got something going on?" Jin asked.
"I could care less. Doesn’t change how they still attempt to stand in our way… though perhaps, this means I could eliminate two targets in one fell swoop." Takaya said.
"If those two are always gonna be together, it’s goin’ to be a bit harder to weasel intel outta Shinjiro. Plus, ya can’t target one without pissin’ off the other.”
“Which is why I specifically said for us to target both, Jin.”
Jin went silent, taking a moment to think. It would be nice to take out two high priority members of S.E.E.S., but that could ultimately give them a disadvantage considering how aggressive the retaliation from the surviving members would be. Though, they would no longer be of use to them if they were exchanging valuable suppressants for literally nothing.
Losing a source of intel compared to losing their lives before Jin and Takaya could fully serve their purpose. Jin knew the obvious route to take in this dilemma. He looked back at Shinjiro and Kotone briefly to see them staying put, apparently rather invested in their conversation. They didn’t even seem to notice (or care) that Jin and Takaya were still well within their range of attack. That only further solidified Jin’s stance of withholding offensive measures.
"Takaya, I think we’ll be more than fine leavin’ em’ be," he said, rolling his eyes.
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ninamitoo · 2 years
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The veiling of mind
As some of you may know, this was a reguest from @cabbages-posts
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Once again, thank you for requesting this since it means to me you like the way I write. The MC described in this story is the same MC in HPHM so you can do about everything 🤷🏻‍♀️✨ Talbott is really insecure about himself in this, hope you don't mind. I imagine that he started to change and see himself in a diferent way roughly sometime after this incident. (Also reader is a bird animagus like Talbott, nut feel free to insert any other animal you prefer.)
Sorry for taking this long, uni work is killing all my time. Hope you like this!
Warnings: It's just pure fluff with a little angst if you close one eye and sexual degrading comments from a Slythering student towards the reader. Nothing big, really. Just the usual stuff most of us heard at least once in our life. I used the F word once, as well as asshole. Talbott also sends a few curses, but doesn't physically harm anyone (the punk in question calmly gets up and runs away like a wounded animal).
Pairing: Talbott Winger x fem! reader (established relationship)
Fandom: Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery
W:  6412 (o.O like wut? I didn't expect this oneshot to be so long.)
My masterlist
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The way your hair glistened in the sunlight was addictive. You were just bending down to pick the spiky flowers when a strand of your hair fell in your face. Unable to resist his desire, Talbott gently reached for them, uncovering your beautiful face and softheartedly put them behind your ear. They were just as tender as he remembered and as the sweet smell of your shampoo assaulted his sinuses, he quite consciously sucked in your intoxicating scent once more. He rested his chin on your head and stroked your hair lovingly.
Talbott rarely ever showed his affection for you. Most of the time, he did so by letting his inhibitions disappear and giving in to his own desires. He didn't know if he could afford to do this to you, if you wanted it, or how you would react if he actually did what he dreams of doing day and night. And as soon as he came back to the harsh reality of what he was doing, he immediately let you go in shame every single time no matter how much you told him you loved it.
He was too nervous to see how much his gesture made you blush. He purposufely looked away from you as his eyes were searching for something to serve as distraction, his hand at the back of his neck. A habit he unconsciously made whenever he was too shy or nervous in your presence.
You were the only one who made him insecure about himself.
It wasn't because of the way you acted around him or anything you said to him. If anything, you've always let him know how much you appreciate him and how much you love him for who he is - for being himself. But... YOU were too good for him. You were perfect at anything you touched. You excelled in every subject, and even though Snape didn't like you twice, your grades were still among the best. You managed to befriend every wizard, witch and magical creature. Everyone adored you. You were brave, beautiful, willing to put yourself in danger to save others, smart, you even sang in the choir and you were capable of playing any position in Quidditch!
Compared to you, he... He could never be your match. The only thing he was really good at was transfiguration and caring for the plants. Although... On multiple occasions you told him how much you admired his clever brain, how you wished to be at least half as smart as he is. One time you even confessed how incredibly sexy you find his cleverness. After hearing your hurried confession he studied even more then before. He wanted to impress you.
Ever since that first day he found out he was your secret crush, he's felt so much better about himself. And every time you chose him out of your long list of admirers to go to a date or to a ball with without hesitation and reassure him that he would always be your first choice, his confidence grew again.
And yet... Every time he was made aware of your superhuman incredibility, he couldn't help but watch you from afar. He admired you more than anyone else.
"Aren't you more touchy-feely than usually today?" You giggled happily and handed him a bouquet of his favorite flowers. Since your first date in Hagrid's garden, picking Thistle has become a bit of a tradition. Whenever you came back here on one of your many dates or just passing by on an evening stroll, you always picked him a bouquet of purple beauties. You yourself would have preferred to choose slightly prettier flowers but you liked the reason why Talbott likes them in the first place. Still, you wished he would begin to think better of himself than that he was often overlooked just as this flowering plant. You wished there was some magic that could make him see himself through your eyes, at least for a while. Then maybe he'd realize how amazing he really is.
"I-I'm sorry..." Talbott was quick to apologize, thinking he'd ruined the rest of the day with his gesture. You finally saw each other after a few days when you were busy with all sorts of things while he was studying in the library and secretly watching you in his animal form whenever he could. Today was supposed to be your day, and he ruined it. "Guess you don't want to see me anymore tonight, huh?" He grumbled, feeling the nervous beat of his heart echoing in his ears as he waited for your answer.
Your eyebrows drew together in an expression of confusion at his thought. Are you expressing your feelings towards him wrongly that his conclusion is a negation instead of a positive? You gently caressed his cheek while you pulled his forehead down to yours. With a smile on your face, you were once again reminded of how Talbott had changed over the past few months - when you met two years ago, he was the same height as you and his build was rather flabby. Now when you wanted to look into his eyes, you had to tilt your head, stand on tiptoe when you wanted to kiss him on the cheek and whenever his strong arms wrapped around you, you got lost in his broad chest.
"Talbott... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad you're overlooked by most people, because then everyone would jump on you." The confusion was switched from one person to another after your last sentence. "You're the most beautiful, kindest person I've ever met, and every day I fall under your spell more and more. And every once in a while, when you make a romantic gesture like you did a moment ago, I feel like my heart explodes with happiness. I love it when you kiss my hair, when I come back to my room and there's a flower and a poem on my bed, or when you wish me sweet dreams and good mornings everyday." You confessed to him and tried to put into your words all your emotions of love that swirled through you like a tornado. You still couldn't believe that someone like you got such an attentive, sweet and romantic guy as a boyfriend.
"Before I met you I thought I wasn't into romance but you made me selfish and I want it, I want you, more and more." Your face turned bright red and your eyes shone with love under the late sunlight. Talbott, utterly absorbed in your beauty and sincerity, could not tear his gaze from you, and watched you in astonished silence. Once in a while you caught him staring at you during meals or classes so now when he looked at you directly, you said nothing and simply smiled at him while you stroked his brown strands, waiting for your words to settle in his heart. Heat flared in the area of Talbott's chest as he watched you, and without thinking, he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.
"I really like you." He whispered against your lips, not daring to say the other word beginning with the letter L. A wide smile lit up your face as you replied back "I like you more," and although Talbott doubted it, he didn't refute your assumption and instead pulled you to him again. He felt his stomach clench as if into itself as you used your tongue to suck his bottom lip into your mouth and without further hesitation he came to meet you. Your kissing was unhurried but full of unspoken feelings hidden deep inside each other.
Too immersed in each other's touch, you didn't notice the door opening or the dog barking a greeting behind your back. "Stop flirtin' and go back 'to the castle! Curfew's comin' up." Hagrid's voice, enriched with boisterous laughter, interrupted you, and you both jumped apart in shame.
"We're coming! We're coming!" You shout back at him while stroking Fang's grey fur. A stick lay a short distance from you, and without hesitation you raised it to brown, playful eyes. "Want this, buddy?" You already knew that if you didn't quickly divert his attention elsewhere, you'd end up on the floor under a layer of dog saliva. When he wiggled his ass in delight, you successfully reached out for the throw.
"Aport!" You swung as hard as you could and watched Fang's tail wag back and forth with joy as he tried to catch the stick in mid-air. "Good boy!" Hagrid cheered as he watched his partner catch the wood and proudly patted him on the side when he came to show him. You said goodbye with a wave of the hand and walked briskly up the hill to the shining castle, reflecting the red evening sky.
"Next time, remind me to make sure we're really alone before we start making out." Talbott, who was even red behind the ears, growled next to you. His agitated attitude amused you and you felt like teasing him, but instead you just intertwined your fingers between his. As your hand slipped under his, his tense shoulders sagged and his hurried gait slowed.
"It still wasn't as bad as the night McGonagall caught us." You reminded him and shuddered at the memory. You weren't able to look her in the eye for weeks afterwards, not to mention Snape's hatred directed at you when he found out how many points your little date night had cost you.
"Ugh, so when I finally forgot about it, you just have to go and remind me again, don't you? I didn't dare to sit next to you for the rest of the year..." Your boyfriend groaned at your side, and when a gust of cold wind picked up, you snuggled closer to his warm body. Your heart, like his, leapt when he let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist instead. "The next day we were the centre of all the gossip." He mumbled, his lips forming into a cute pout.
Until then, your romance was mostly known only to your close friends, but after you were caught in the hallway by the esteemed professor, you were the talk of the town, and not just during the meals in the Great Hall. The fact that neither of you denied it encouraged the omnipresent to concoct scenarios of what you might have done together in the shadows of the night.
"But I was happy to officially call you my boyfriend every time someone asked me about you." You told him and watched his reaction out of the corner of your eye. Surprise quickly gave way to disbelief until even that was replaced by a beatific smile. The fact that you wanted to show him off made him incredibly happy and proud. He was the one who could call you his, not anybody else. And you wanted to be his as much as you wanted him to be yours. "Me too." Noted Talbott and these two simple words made you feel like a little teenager falling head over heels in love once again.
"When'll I see you again?" You ask as you walk through the gate knowing that your time together is coming to an end. You already miss him.
"Are you free tomorrow?" Finding a date when you both have time together is challenging. It seems like fate is against you every time you try to meet. You had a feeling it wouldn't be any different now, as you shook your head sadly at his question.
"I promised to help Barnaby and Liz look after Nifflers during lunch break and I still have detention with Pitts in the kitchen after dinner." Unconsciously, you squeezed Talbott's hand tighter as you tried to figure out the day when you'd at least have a moment to spare. "But I have Quidditch practice on Friday around six and then I'm off. Would you like to come see me and do some flying afterwards?" You came up with an alternative time immediately.
“I'm not sure why you think I, of all people, am the one who can fly, but...” Talbott said with a serious face, and you couldn't help laughing out loud. You always get a laugh out of his jokes addressed to his eagle form, especially when he refers to them as the most serious thing in the world. As you saw Talbott's nod of approval, you couldn't wait for Friday. Wishing you sweet dreams, he said goodbye with one last kiss. Just two days and you'll see each other again.
.
The next morning you saw each other only briefly at breakfast when you waved to each other and both went to your separate classes that day. On Thursday, your schedule was the most different - you could at least be grateful for the time together in the Great Hall where the whole school meets for a meal. But besides that, you hadn't saw the other one the whole day, and you still had a detention to go to you'd got at the end of last year. At least you had your new partner there to make the long hours over a bowl of bread dough enjoyable.
"Hey Jae! Up to no good again?" You jokingly greeted your friend, looking at his hunched back over his diary where he wrote down all his upcoming orders.
"Welcome to our worst nightmare! I was almost afraid you were gonna leave me alone tonight." He looked up at you and gave you one of his half smiles that clearly indicated, he was once again planning something nefarious.
"Only almost?" You yelled over your shoulder at him while you washed your hands in one of the sinks. A light laugh was his answer, as was an amused glint in his dark eyes as he talked to you provocatively: "Offended much?"
You reached for one of several aprons hanging on the wall and made your way back to the long table the Asian boy was leaning against, his arms folded across his chest. "Not quite what you were hoping for." You reply and watch his exaggerated gesticulation with a smile as he places his palm over his heart in disbelief.
"Less laughter and more dough kneading!" Pitts shouted at you, fed up with your positive mood. Before he could pull out his chef's cooking spoon on you, you both got down to business and expertly began working on your task.
"You got some new business?" You nodded your head towards his notebook safely hidden in his back pocket. His voice was as quiet as yours, after all, you don't want to attract unwanted attention.
"Yeah, and pretty big!" His enthusiasm just oozed out of him and it was immediately clear to you that it had something to do with visiting Knockturn Alley. With a silent raise of your eyebrows, you prompted him to speak. "There's a student in our class who's desperately in love. Looks like the girl doesn't want him, but he just doesn't care. Phuhahaha! He's ordered a month's supply and looks like he's going to become a regular customer." He laughed and started muttering something about how he had to deliver the first batch this Friday afternoon and that he had to get out of the castle as soon as possible to pick up his order.
You disagreed with the love potion delivery - you remembered too well how you persuaded Ismelda not to use the potion on your mutual friend, and you just hoped that this time you would be able to prevent it as well. But Jae guarded his client's name like a hawk and refused to tell you. Although you were his friend and partner in several of his jokes, he was aware of your responsibility as prefect and had no doubt that you would prevent his new business. He couldn't afford that happening.
You crawled to your room late at night, determined to find out as soon as possible who was willing to go to such lengths to force someone into false love. First thing in the morning you're gonna meet Penny and ask her for help. You didn't know of anyone better than your blonde friend, who can keep tabs on all matters circulating around the castle.
.
Talbott woke up to a raining morning. It looked like it was going to be cold and wet all day today, yet he knew your team wouldn't cancel their practice. Just like the previous year, you made it to the finals with your hard work and great teamwork. You have worked harder than ever before - after all defending the title for the third time in a row won't be easy.
Talbott took his Ravenclaw sweater out of the closet and pulled it over his shirt. As he smoothed his robes his eyes fell on his spare, warmer sweater and without further thought he grabbed it and neatly folded it into his bag. 'She's often cold...' He thought as your self came to his mind and with a satisfied smile went to breakfast.
Exceptionally, he saw you before he heard you, which was unusual. He could recognize your boisterous laughter from across the hall and was always pleased to know that you were in a good mood every morning. Today, however, he saw you bent over next to your fair-haired friend with a thoughtful look on your face while you listened to Penny whispers. Not wanting to disturb you, he sat down at the very end of the table, as he used to do before you began to eat breakfast and dinner together. He missed you, but he didn't dare come between you and Penny.
Now that he was sitting alone again after a long time, he realized how much joy you brought into his world. The loud conversation, laughter and clinking of cutlery on plates turned into a uniform background noise. He knew it was impossible, but it seemed to him that even the ubiquitous colours had lost their saturation, as if they had faded slightly...
Talbott lost his appetite when he realized how dependent he actually is on you. Without you by his side, he had nothing to live for. Was his existence before you always so pointless and boring?
"Hey, love" the sing-song voice and the gentle embrace of arms around his shoulders broke him out of his reverie. Talbott smiled as his body leaned more into your embrace. "What are you thinking about again, huh? You should take a break from your brain once in a while." You joked and kissed him gently on the cheek. The gentle gesture of your affection to him shook his inhibitions so much that he pulled you to his face and quickly pressed his lips to yours.
"Just thinking about how much I need you in my life." He confessed, watching as your face brightened to happily incredulous. He could have sworn he even saw you happily hopping on the spot from one foot to the other a few times. If only he knew how much you were fangirling over him at that moment... Let's just say you were glad you didn't squeeled aloud.
"Thank you. I feel the same way, but... You should still take a break once in a while!" You brought the direction of your conversation back to it's original rail and sat down next to your boyfriend, who was feeling particularly determined today - so much so that he wraped his arm around your waist. You took advantage of the offered bite and scooped up the entire plate as you hugged him back and pressed your head over his chest. You were pleased when he didn't protest and instead rested his chin gently on top your head.
"You are one to talk. Couldn't you at least take a day off from solving all the problems and mysteries that arise in Hogwarts?" He snorted, brushing his hand over your arm in slow strokes.
"If I'm not the one saving Hogwarts, than who is?" You utter almost without interest and reach for his unfinished toast and take a bite. "Besides, it's nothing serious, just the possibility of fooling some girl with a love potion." You say and watch Talbott slowly nod his head while he bites into the toast in your hand. He's suddenly very hungry.
He sure as hell didn't want to get involved in any of your dangerous adventures. Rather on the contrary, he wished you would stop doing this heroic thing of yours, so he wouldn't have to worry about losing you every day. Yet he understood your motives for seeking another vault. If he himself had even the slightest hope of saving his parents, he would have rushed after it without hesitation. The love potion certainly wasn't as bad as your fight with a werewolf.
After breakfast, you said goodbye again, each heading to your classes. He knew he'd see you again in transfiguration class, and later he'd come to watch you train. Still, he couldn't help checking the clock every few minutes to see when it would finally be lunchtime.
His first lesson was DADA, which he definitely enjoyed more last year, when you had it together and he could secretly admire your talent for spells. He enjoyed sitting by your side and liked the warmth radiating from where your elbows or thighs touched, but to be able to watch you from the back pew as you demonstrated to the class how best to fight a ghoul? You looked hot. And he got to call you his.
Professor Green began her lesson. He already knew the spell she was teaching in today's lecture, so he could afford to let his mind wander to you and pay partial attention to the explanation of the origin and history of the defensive spell.
When the time for the demonstration came, his eyes watched professor's every move with atentive eyes. What snapped him out of his enchantment were the two voices of the boys in front of him.
"Ain't she hot?" A low snicker fell from his friend's lips.
"I bet she is an easy one. She craves attention so much she'll stretch for anyone." Another wave of laughter rose accompanied by a series of vulgar hand gestures. Talbott felt his stomach twist into a knot of disgust. How dare they talk like this about someone? Talbott tried not to pay attention to their pathetic conversation, but their sonorous voices pierced his ears like a needle through a vein.
"Maybe. But I won't leave anything to chance." Said the first boy, dressed in bright green, with a disgusting smile plastered across his ugly mug.
"What'da ya mean by that?" The other asked curiously, and though Talbott partly did not want to hear the answer, he found himself straining his hearing in order to not miss a single word. Although he is not the confrontational type and prefers to solve problems verbally rather than with his fists or a duel, he still vividly recalling his conversation with you during breakfeast about some guy with love potion. Even if he couldn't prevent the Slythering boy from coming to the girl and stopping him, he can still hear the plan and either keep a close eye on him or warn you he's Jae's new client.
"I insured it." The answer came, and he pulled an unmarked vial of potion from his robe pocket. Talbott's mind spun into overdrive as soon as his eyes caught sight of the black vial. He must be the one who bought the love potion. The chances that among the 600 students are more guys who wanted to deliver a love potion on this day are minimal, but possible. The chances that he's the one you're looking for are less than 1%. The chances that he's the one you're looking for are less than 1%.
He didn't have to wait too long. Transfiguration class came sooner than he'd hoped, and as soon as he saw you talking to Andre outside the classroom, he immediately headed over to you. "Hey," you waved at him, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed your arm. "I think I know who the guy with the love potion is." He blurted out quickly, answering your question about who is it, before you could finish asking. "Some Slythering guy in our year. Don't know his name, but he has dark brown hair and eyes. Big beauty mark on his left cheek." You nodded and thought deeply. There are a lot of brown-haired boys in Slytherin, but only two in your year. The beauty mark will be your best shot at deciding which one is it.
"Thank you, this will help us a lot. I'll tell the others what you found out and we'll try to find him during the breaks and convince him not to do it." You smiled at him, and a sense of pride came over Talbott. He was glad he could help you a little.
"Did they happen to mention the girl's name?" You asked curiously, knowing how valuable this information was. It would be easy to warn her, and even easier to have one from your group watch over her at all times. The dismissive shake of his head was a disappointing but not devastating.
"Never mind. We're gonna have to focus on finding the guy first. Shouldn't be too hard." You assume, and with newfound vigor, you head to class together. How hard can it be to find one student when you know what house he is from, plus you know his general description? Apparently much harder than you originally thought.
He was nowhere to be found. The search party was joined by others besides Penny, with Barnaby and Liz guarding the Slytherin dorm while the others searched every nook and cranny. At lunch, Talbott thought he spotted him, but he was easily lost in the crowd of other students. During the break between classes you always tried to search as many rooms as possible, but there wasn't much spare time.
Rowan and Ben were in the library while Tulip kept watch in the Courtyard. Chiara, Andre and Badeea were each in one of the clubs, while the others were running around the castle from one classroom to another. You knew about every hiding place in the castle and searched them all - without success. Eventually you got to the point where you couldn't continue your search with the others - you had to go to your practise. Skye and Orion won't let you sneak out of training just before the finals.
You were just coming down the spiral staircase in your Quidditch outfit when you caught Penny and Talbott walking towards you. “We thought we'd go somewhere not too crowded so Talbott could change and get a bird's eye view of the school grounds.” Penny told you their new plan. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” You nodded your head in agreement. It wasn’t a bad idea at all, Talbott can cover a large area in a relatively short period of time while he’s in his animagus form.
“Don't worry if you don't find him today. Maybe he doesn't even want to give her the potion today, and we've all wasted a whole day looking for him for nothing.” You told your boyfriend since you knew what a perfectionist he secretly is and that even though he doesn't show it, he really wants to help you in your search. He smiled appreciatively at you: “I know, I know. You don't have to comfort me yet.” He joked.
“Well, we should get going, just like you.” The blonde inserted herself into your little exchange, and before she left, she made sure to wish you good luck, along with an apology for not being able to come see you today. She started up the stairs, but Talbott did not immediately follow. “I'll make about two rounds and if I can't find him, I'll fly out to see you like I originally promised.” He walked over to you and tucked one naughty strand that had escaped from your ponytail behind your ear. His voice was much quieter than usual. “He doesn't have to ruin our date, does he?”
“No, he really doesn't have to.” You nodded and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Looking forward to seeing you.” You winked at him with a playful smile and skipped down the rest of the staircase. Talbott watched your hair bounce with each step and only when he lost sight of you did he follow his friend. 
Although he didn't imagine today to be a hectic day, he was glad for the chance to stretch his wings and fly. It always cleared his mind beautifully. He couldn't relax that much with anything else, unless you included falling asleep in your arms. He turned his wings to catch the current of the wind and let it drift freely, while his keen eyes searched for the brown-haired boy. 
Halfway through his second loop around the castle, he noticed Jae waving his arms frantically to catch his attention. Talbott descended into the shadow of the stone wall where he transformed back. As soon as his boots touched solid ground he came out to meet the boy in the yellow sweatshirt who was already running in his direction. 
“Where’s Y/N?” He blurted out before Talbott could say anything. “She’s on the pitch, they have a practice today.” He didn't understand what good this information would do him, but he still gave the location of your current whereabouts without hesitation.
“Crap... That’s not good. Not good at all...” Jae started mumbling to himself, completely ignoring the Ravenclaw student in front of him. “What’s wrong mate?” Talbott's question seemed to snap the Asian out of his rant. He grabbed Talbott's shoulders and squeezed them tightly: “If I'd known sooner, I swear I wouldn't have given him the potion! I didn't know it was Y/N! You have to believe me, ‘kay? I would never-”
“What about Y/N? What’s wrong with her!? You aren’t making any sense!” An irritated Talbott jumped in. He wanted to know immediately what was going on with you, but Jae was babbling about unimportant things instead. “Cut to the point!”
“Philip wants to give that love potion to Y/N!”
Doupt.
Betrayal.
Resentment.
Bitterness.
Fear.
Talbott’s mind became preoccupied with intense emotions and hostility towards that Phil or whatever his name is. He was in a jealous rage. You were his girlfriend and the whole school knew that and yet he dared to take you away from him by pushing himself onto you with creating fake, illusionary feelings? 
No way in hell.
There’s no way in hell he’ll let that happen.
The stiff body started to move on its own. The walk was replaced by a fast stride, which was transformed into a run within a few seconds. Talbott has never had a reason to run in his life. Jae shouted at him from behind his back where he was going and what had gone into him, but Talbott's brain registered only a high-pitched squeak. Nothing was more important to him than getting to you in time to stop you from drinking that stupid potion.
His feet carried him halfway when he saw you slowly sliding down to the ground, where a black and green blur waved at you. His labored breathing turned to wheezing as he picked up speed. He called your name again and again, but distance silenced his desperate cries. His side stabbingly stung when you landed on the ground a few feet away from Philip. 
He won't make it.
An icy drop of terror flooded his body as he watched you accept the offered drinking bottle with mistrust in your eyes. His neck tightened into a narrow slit as your mouth approached the neck of the bottle. He must have spilled the potion in there. There was no springly water but a disgusting love potion!
Your mouth widened in a blissful smile as you said something to Philip, the bottle ever near, ever present in your hand. It felt like everzthing around him stopped and gone silent. Talbott almost stopped at that moment. Almost. But he was too close for that. You were almost within arm's reach...
He was aware of his rude behaviour when he flew between you like an unguided missile and knocked the bottle out of your hand in one fell swoop. The contents of the bottle remained untouched and before he could think about it his impulse made him grab the bottle, open it and spill the last drop on the ground. He watched with smug pleasure as the liquid seeped into the ground.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” A scratchy voice shouted at him. Talbott was frazzled enough as it was, and his words were the last straw for him. He rose briskly to his feet and pointed his wand at the center of his chest. A simple wave and a word threw Philip back a few feet, his ass hitting the ground hard with a cry of pain.
“Don’t touch my girlfriend asshole.” It was the first time you saw Talbott pissed off, really pissed off. It was also the first time you've seen him pull a wand on someone and use a curse word. It was, to say the least... Remarkable. And even though it wasn't welcome in this situation, you couldn't resist the feeling of happiness that spread through you like a disease. You really liked how protective he was of you.
The sudden commotion drew attention of your teammates and it wasn't long before they formed a circle around you. “What’s happening here?” Orion asked as his searching gaze swept over the three people in front of him - two on their feet while one was sprawled on the ground. 
“He wanted to give her a love potion.” Talbott growled through gritted teeth, never taking his eyes off his enemy. 
“That seems to me to be quite a serious accusation that should not be made without solid reasons which will prove its truth.” Orion said in a serious tone, his hands clasped behind his back. “He’s lying!” In a desperate attempt to save himself, the accused caught hold of a thrown safety rope. Now that there wasn't a shred of evidence left, they had nothing on him. Once he realized this fact, he clumsily scrambled to his feet with a newfound confidence.
“But we have, though.“ You put yourself in and stood by the side of your love. A disbelieving "what" fell from the boy's lips. You smiled at his sudden change in demeanor - he was looking at you like a mouse caught in a trap. “Don't you know I'm friends with Jae?“ You started listing your evidence, starting with the most obvious one.
“That doesn’t prove anything!” He snapped back at you, but it didn't escape your eyes as he clenched his hands into fists to stop the shaking. 
“No, it doesn not.” You agreed with him. Until Jae's here and points the finger himself, it's just word against word. “But running your mouth in the middle of class, talking about how you're going to give me a love potion is, don't you think? Revealing your plan before it was implemented is not recommended.” You put another nail in the coffin. You hammered another nail in the coffin, ready at any moment to use disarming spells on Philip, whose face had turned red with rage. To the astonishment of everyone else, however, it was the young man standing on your left who could not keep his anger in check.
Talbott sent a series of curses in Philip's direction, accompanied by resonating memories of a conversation that directly involved you. No one will call you a bawd in his presence. Not without consequences. “I was sitting right behind you and your little friend when you were bad-mouthing my girlfriend.” Talbott huffed through his clenched jaw, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his wand tightly.
“That still doesn't prove anything...!” Philip defended himself while protecting his face with his hands. At that moment, you felt like you were the perpetrator and not him. Not wanting to subject him to something like that, even if he deserved it, so you lowered Talbott's rised hand. You spoke the next words in a quieter, calmer voice. “Didn't I tell you I smell fresh straw and cool wind when you gave me the bottle?” A positive nod was accompanied by a confused arching of the eyebrows. You couldn't help smiling as you began to vividly recall the scent that had become your favourite. “Even if I didn't know beforehand that someone was here to slip me Amortentia, I would have known immediately by the smell. It's his scent.” You looked behind you to where Talbott stood as you spoke your last words. Those were meant for him.
“I'm sure I don't have to explain what that means, do I?” You looked back at Philip, who quickly mumbled a hissing no and almost ran back to the castle without another word. You felt that you wouldn't have to deal with this matter any longer.
“He could have at least apologized.” Talbott muttered, still irritated, but you could see your smart, patient man in him again. 
“I have everything I need with me.” You squeezed Talbott's warm palm in yours. “I can do without his apology.” The love in your eyes smiled at him like warm rays of sunshine, and Talbott couldn't resist the temptation to steal one of your sweet kisses.
“That's enough with the flirting, right? We've still got practice to do!” Skye shouted at you, always relentless when it came to Quidditch. It was with great difficulty that you pulled away from the soft lips still pressed against yours. “Looks like I have to go.” You said, even though you knew Talbott had much better hearing than you and the comment thrown to the wind didn't escape him. 
“I'll wait for you in the auditorium. Go score as many goals as you can.” He shooed you away with another promise he whispered in his head. Tonight is the perfect night for him to tell you he loves you.
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ronearoundblindly · 2 years
Text
The Right Partner (1/3)
Take My Hand, a Fools Rush In story
Summary: Steve is nervous on your wedding day.
A/N: This is entirely from Steve's POV. The next parts are from yours. Also, it's sappy, gang, and I cried dozens of times writing this. Hope you do, too? But in a nice way? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Enjoy!
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Warnings for innuendo, some language, and--well--married life activities, so yes, there is smut. MINORS DNI. WC a honking 7.1k, like she's a biggin' this one. Wow, this got out of hand.
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Steve is used to tight clothes, but his SSR uniform feels excessively tight as he stands in the mirror. It’s putting pressure on his waist and chest. Yeah, that’s what it is. The suit.
He pulls the lighter tie back and forth to straighten it, flipping the shirt collar back up and down. When he smooths it back down, he keeps his hand pressing over his heart, feeling it race.
“Quit fussing,” Bucky mumbles, standing behind him.
“I’m not fussing.”
Bucky simply tilts his head with a knowing look and goes to lean on the furniture.
Steve feels no better. He doesn’t have enough information. Are you nervous, too? Are you having second thoughts? Did he do enough to make this feel like your day too? Has he shown you enough love to convince you to hitch your life to his?
Steve Rogers’ life is far more of a zoo than he thought it would be growing up. The original plan was ‘go to war, end the war, come home, and live.’ He’s not quite done all of those things, but they are all on shuffle repeat.
His goal was to do his part. He wanted to stick up for the little guy. Each fight his fragile body got roughed up in could have been his last, so in the grand scheme of things, Steve only recently let himself plan ahead. Those once nebulous, unattainable hopes are starting to coalesce in the gravity of you. 
It’s great. It’s wonderful. It’s new.
It’s making Steve feel a little queasy.
Life is unpredictable. There’s no blueprint. Army strategy doesn’t much apply to single human-on-human interaction, teaches not to make the other party happy, and in terms of friendlies, sticks with ‘don’t shoot each other.’
He knows how to fight, to disarm, to destabilize, to surround and corner, to capture, and to thwart. Steve even knows—begrudgingly—how to kill. Those are his strengths.
What is he thinking? He doesn’t know how to do this. He doesn’t know how to be a husband.
Oh boy, he’s gonna puke.
“Take a breath, punk. It’s fine. You’re fine.” Bucky’s nothing but amused by Steve’s nerves though, so his best friend seems to purposefully offer lackluster help.
Steve adjusts his uniform’s tie for the twentieth time. It’s still not right. Steve’s hands are still shaking, and as sick as he feels now…he actually might want a hearty swig from Thor’s flask to take the edge off.
Buck intuits this and is already on his phone, calling in the cavalry, or so Steve thinks.
“What if I choke up and don’t say it right?”
Steve watches Bucky shrug. “Ok then—“ Bucky unfolds a little piece of paper “—one more time. I, Steven Grant Rogers…”
“I, Steven Grant Rogers,” Steve breathes through lips he can’t seem to move properly.
“…do solemnly swear…”
The tie is still crooked. “Do solemnly swear.”
“That I am up to no good.”
“That I…what?”
“Clever,” Tony’s rich laugh sounds from the doorway, “very modern for you boys.”
“Those aren’t my vows,” Steve (just shy of) whines.
“I sure hope not—“ Tony comes in “—don’t think your little lady would like all these guests to know your dirty little intentions for the rest of the night.” He waggles his eyebrows, elated by Steve’s frustration.
“I’m getting married.”
“Yes,” Bucky agrees, “he’s allowed to be as dirty as he wants with Nerd once they’re married.”
Steve snaps up at Bucky. “That’s not—“
“Oh, he did not wait until—“
“Tony, don’t!” Steve’s about to crack, face hot like he has a fever, and he’d be fine with the ribbing if it weren’t for experiencing a minor earthquake beneath him, rocking his composure since last night when Nat whisked you away after the rehearsal.
“I’ve got it. I’ve got you, buddy. Here—“ Bucky hands him his phone “—she sent you a little something.”
“Hey, Sketch,” your voice rings in his ear, “I thought you might need a message to help you chill the eff out, so I wrote you a poem. Here goes.”
Steve smiles instantly and relaxes his neck, head falling forward in a sigh.
“You’re pretty old but to me you’re new. I borrow you from the world where you’re dressed in blue. You can keep me forever, I promise you that. Our lives start today…just don’t anger Nat.
“See? I’m such a great writer—“ The message cuts off in laughter from both you and your sibling, Ro.
In the background, he hears Natasha grumble, “if that weren’t true, I’d be pretty pissed, now get over here so your—“ and it’s over.
Bucky beams, smacking Steve’s back with a jolting force, likely checking that his heart is still functioning.
“Awesome,” Tony adds, “final flourishes?”
He pulls a small velvet box from his pocket, and Steve stiffens.
“Tony, the rings are supposed to be with—“
“Hold your horses,” Stark dismisses. “This is something else. You’re missing a pin.”
Steve’s hands frantically sweep down his uniform as he checks. “Where?”
“You mind?” Tony picks something silver out and hands the box over to Bucky. He turns to grab Steve’s lapel and flicks it out.
The pin is a globe with many—but not accurate—lines crisscrossing it. Beneath that sits ‘1943.’
“First Stark Expo commemorative pin. I believe it technically is where you began in a way, and I’ve got to somehow make this day about me, so you’re welcome.”
He wants to be mad and say something sharp, but instead, Steve just gets hotter and more emotional. Tony, pleased with his work, pulls Steve into a tight hug that both cling to for a moment.
“I know, big guy. I’m just that great. There, there.” Tony—only half-jokingly—rests his hand on the back of Steve’s head before a gentle pat.
“Thank you,” Steve sniffs. “I can’t believe you kept this.”
“I brought you one, too, Dynamo.” Tony collects himself, pointing at the box Bucky holds. “Good ol’ Dad only printed about a hundred of those before his publicist stopped the machine, so it’s extra perfect.”
As the box opens, Bucky snorts.
“Oh wow. Yup. I see why,” he mutters, pulling out another silver pin with the same year and the initials for the World Exposition of Tomorrow.
Bucky smirks while Tony pushes the W.E.T. pin into place.
“Perfect,” he agrees, sharply straightening his matching uniform.
Steve nods. “Now I get why you kept them,” he says flatly, mind already far away again but at least his body jitters less. “Is it time?”
“Just about.” Tony smiles wide and earnestly. “We’re all ready to get up to no good. You just need to—” he waves his hand in front of Steve’s face “—fix this a bit.”
Steve frowns. “That’s my face, Tony.”
“Yeah, well, it’s making me nervous, so…” Tony walks off into the hallway.
Bucky’s expression tells Steve that the sentiment wasn’t wrong. He looks a wreck and a half, and he knows it.
Bucky shrugs. “I could sock you one if that would help.”
Between the Asgardian liquor and a punch to the face…Steve weighs his options and takes one final breath.
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It’s crisp out. Overcast. Everything around feels subdued. The beautiful, turning foliage of the woods past AvIn campus sits quiet, framing the wrought iron archway.
Out of habit, Steve scans the tree line. All worst-case scenarios have been on repeat in his brain since Nat shuffled you away last night. There’s the obvious: being called out on an emergency, some of your family not arriving on time, the cake tasting like plaster, him looking like an idiot in every single photo…
Or the unlikely: Bruce hulks out for no reason, some evil agent(s) show up to hurt people, Steve missing a single moment of you walking down the aisle…
Sam’s taught him a technique for keeping his eyes open as long as possible—without looking like a creepy goof—so he can catch every second. Finally, all those stupid staring contests with Bucky have a good use.
Steve stands facing the woods, shaking out his arms in hopes of feeling less crawling beneath his skin. He’s so twitchy. He’s so damn nervous that Buck’s hand on his shoulder makes him jump again.
He knew he was there, for goodness sake. He’s being ridiculous.
Steve tries to crack his neck and accidentally hikes his shoulders clear up to his ears, so there’s one ding on looking like an idiot in a photo.
Sam makes a gesture to remind Steve to breathe. Tony flashes a thumbs-up and winks at him.
Steve’s stomach knots up as if he guzzled Thor’s Asgardian liquor, and he forces himself to smooth the front of his jacket. Steady. He can do this. Even though he feels tiny. Even though his knees feel weak and wobbly. Even though he’s having trouble breathing. He can’t magically develop asthma again, right? He tells his face to smile. Eh, he didn’t quite nail that.
It’s like he can’t register the mass of people—ok it’s not so many, but they’re there—in front of him until Buck’s elbow knocks his.
Steve snaps to attention.
The music warps to a crawl in his ears, and he’s dimly aware of Morgan tossing leaves over the aisle. There are approving murmurs and whispers when the bridesmaids slowly—gah, why is everything so slow?—meander past Steve’s right, but he’s still not looking. Not really.
The delicate rustle should be impossible to hear. You’ve barely inched a toe past the threshold of the building’s West Entrance, but Steve’s vision tunnels immediately into the distance.
He doesn’t see white first.
A deep, navy lace creeps up the long line of you before melting into the more traditional cream color. Some of the embroidered flowers dotting the dress are cast in burgundy, increasing in their cluster until solid along your neckline.
His heart stops, but not in cold. Steve’s sparking, concentration so honed and potent on your every step, every flutter and ripple of your gown, that he could light the ground you walk on with just his gaze.
Honest to god, he can’t see your father on your arm because the universe shrinks to the size of one half strip of carpet for the eternity it takes you to float to his side. He suffocates, blissfully, waiting so patiently.
And then your fingers smooth into his outstretched hand and squeeze.
The pulse wraps his entire body, somehow, someway, releasing all that pent-up terror all at once. He remembers. He remembers now. You’re gonna marry him. Your smile brings the sun. Your beauty brings him warmth. Your love keeps him alive.
He couldn’t breathe without you. That was the missing piece.
Steve should look forward. He should look at the priest and think of his lines and focus, but he just stares.
There’re burgundy flowers in your hair above sapphire earrings, and you’re gonna marry him. A pulse right there beneath the chain of your necklace beats rapidly, and you’re gonna marry him. Your mouth opens, sighs, speaks, and you’re gonna marry him. You’re giggling and helping him say some words…
And you’ve married him.
Your hands are steady in his as he slides a garnet ring over your finger, and your hands steady his while you slide a matching yellow gold band onto him. You’re married, and he’s yours.
Everything’s different. Absolutely nothing has changed.
One second he loved you and the next he loves you more. Unfathomable.
A gentle gust of wind knocks a wisp of hair out of place. We can’t have that, he thinks, tucking it back over your ear with a smile. He smells your hair and skin now, hears your breaths and heart, sees a familiar twitch of nerves, feels the tiniest tremble of your hands in his, and knows nothing but you in this moment.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest harps loudly from a planet away. “You may k—“
He gets to taste now, too. Steve can’t wait. 
The momentum does not start out sweet. You’d expect all delicacy and tenderness from him, but no, he’s married now. Your body bends and molds to him, bringing you close, closer, and closer still.
A chorus of ‘woah’ and one ‘dang, boy’ erupts from behind him, and the poor priest tries to slow Steve down.
“No need to rush. You have eternity.”
Doesn’t matter. As Buck would say, this isn’t kissing; this is necking, and Steve’s gonna neck his wife all he damn well pleases from this day forward.
“I told ya,” Tony cracks behind him, “always the quiet ones.”
“Made her stretch this morning, too,” Nat adds with a snort.
The priest just chuckles. It’s not his first rodeo either. “May I present Captain and Misses Steven Grant Rogers.”
“Even Stevens,” Steve whispers as he pulls away.
Your eyes open, dark and glassy.
“Even—“ but his lips cut you off with one more playful kiss.
He rights you and your dress, careful not to let his buttons and medals snag on the lace, which only leads to Steve petting his splayed hand down your entire bodice while your sibling stands feet away cheering.
“Steady on, brother,” Ro yells.
That is the moment when Steve comes back to himself. The sights and sounds of the rest of the world dial back up into existence, and he flushes, realizing he really couldn’t be held responsible if he’d gone further in the last few minutes. He just wasn’t in control of his body or mind.
But he remembers. He has every minute detail of you locked away permanently now. At least, your joy tells him that he did okay; he’s made you happy. He’ll need a video to figure out what he actually said, however.
Semantics, as Buck would say.
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Normally, Steve is not this bold, but something about watching you smile and him thinking “that’s my wife” has caused him to push the envelope. Will this touch at your neck make your heart race? Will that question whispered in your ear make you shiver? For those reasons, he’s taking the ritual of removing your garter very seriously.
He stares right into your eyes through long lashes, ignoring the cheers and hoots of your guests, savoring your alternating excitement and shyness while he drags his hands over the soft skin of your leg.
You’re not wearing tights.
His fingers initially pass the scrunched satin and lace band to pinch at your inner thigh several inches higher than where he’s supposed to be, and you jump, unable to stifle of laugh of surprise. 
The audience reacts, too, but he can’t hear it. 
Stretching out his hand to smooth his palm back down causes the tip of his middle finger to brush against the lace of your panties, and he’s so proud of your widening eyes. He relents after he’s sure you see his devious grin and slides off the frilly band, carefully cupping your foot to wiggle it over your shoe.
Shit.
His wife.
In heels.
No tights.
Yeah, Steve isn’t usually this bold, but he could get used to this.
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He eats dinner with his hand on your knee, barely able to feel the shape of you beneath all the layers of fabric, but at least he knows you’re right there. He does not know or care what he’s eating.
When you two cut the cake, the layer you’ve cut is your favorite flavor. Apparently, he’ll have to wait another year to eat his favorite from the topper??? No. That’s not fair. Steve doesn’t like that and plans to just take the thing on your honeymoon, wherever the hell that is since Tony won’t say.
Steve carefully places a big bite of cake in your mouth, hoping no crumbs fall down your dress, and you raise a piece high for him.
Then you take it right back before he can get it, eating it yourself.
What did he expect? It’s cake and you’re you. He smiles warmly anyway and licks icing from his fingers.
His solace is the top tier coming with him at the end of the night and that you’re his wife.
His wife, in heels, wearing no tights.
How much longer is this event?
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He’s danced with you so many times before, but Steve suddenly feels entirely unsure about his hands. Where he places them naturally isn’t too suggestive in front of guests, is it? Is he pulling you too close? Is the hem of your dress under his foot?
His thoughts are consumed with what he might be doing wrong until your voice pierces through the static in his ears.
You’re singing.
You’re singing your song—his and yours—very softly to him as it plays in the background.
Just like that his feet are light as air. Just like that he’s tucked into the crook of your neck. Just like that his hands feel right hugging you.
Just like that.
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“You ready for skydiving and scuba?”
He didn’t, Steve groans internally, staring at Tony’s inscrutable smirk above a scotch glass. He wouldn’t.
“No. No,” Tony snorts, “don’t worry. You two will really enjoy the Avengers cruise leaving from Florida in the morning.”
Steve’s gonna kill Tony because you’re gonna kill Steve if a giant ship in the middle of the ocean full of fans is what Tony’s chosen for your damn honeymoon. There wasn’t a way for you two to plan it yourselves, not with how unpredictable the whole engagement has been. Tony Stark is the only one with the resources enough to make a whole honeymoon happen at the drop of a hat, or a dime, or several billion dimes. Hell, you and Steve would have already changed flight and hotel bookings for anywhere three times by now based on missions alone.
His worry must show on his face; it must be exactly what Tony was hoping for because he beams back.
“Gotcha, Cap.” Tony winks. “Man, you are easy.”
Steve’s trying. He really is.
He’s also met Tony, so there’s a generalized fear of sheer Starkness that sloshes around the bottom of Steve’s gut like their drinks.
“All I’ll tell you—“ Tony grabs Steve’s shoulder and settles into a genuine smile “—is you’re taking a quinjet, and you’re welcome.”
“Great.” Steve’s face falls. “Very specific.”
Tony shrugs, turning to order a refill. “What do you want from me? You’re the logistics, guy.” He points off to the table where you sit talking to your family, huffing, “go snog your wife or something.”
Necking, Steve thinks, it’s called necking.
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The sparkler sendoff is a nice touch, the flickering light of waving friends slowly replaced by steel as the bombay doors shut.
Bucky and Nat—who apparently know more about Steve’s honeymoon than he does—hauled his and her luggage aboard—only some of which you two were allowed to pack—before the dancing even ended. Steve scans the rest of the supplies tucked by the duffels of clothes and still can’t tell where you two are going. When he peaks at the clothes though…
Sweaters. Average apparel for this time of year on this continent. That’s a fairly comforting sign.
“Keeps, did you want to change out of your—“
He turns to see you clutching your arms and rushes over. “Are you cold?”
You shake your head, silent, so Steve takes the moment to look at you—really look at all of you—and admire your beauty.
You wear his colors with a twist of individuality, with an added delicacy that’s more Steve than Cap. No stars. No stripes. No harsh lines. Just your gentle curves and complex lace amidst blending colors. You are a representation but the farthest thing from a flag.
You’re a tangible promise.
He watches your breaths push your chest against the red rose trim of the gown’s bodice. There’s a refraction from your earrings that shimmers across your shoulder. He can smell the fading flowers in your hair.
“I haven’t…” you gulp out with shimmering eyes, “been in one of these since that day.”
Oh god, how did he not think of that? He didn’t know. It’s hard to fathom how many times Steve has ridden in a quinjet within the year and a half since you first met.
He didn’t know.
It’s so strange to think he didn’t know then what you would mean to him now. He’d boarded the jet with your Dream Team and had no idea. There was no magic indicator, no slow motion or love at first sight. His world did not turn upside down. More rightly, his world came to you that day.
He assessed the camaraderie of three men and two women. That’s all. He could tell which was the leader, Norm, and Steve thought nothing more of it until after his shield was suctioned to a hole in the hull. 
He secured two men and two women, one of which was trapped with her hand in his makeshift plug.
He remembers he prayed you’d live. That was the first real thing Steve ever thought of you—you specifically—that you’d live.
He remembers looping his arm in the cargo nets and holding you tight. He remembers how he thought about his own strength and if his hold was hurting you. He remembers that your eyes weren’t closed, but he knew you saw nothing. Not really. In fact, your eyes were open the whole time: landing, taking the shield off, examining your hand on the grass outside; all of it until you popped up and headed back toward the jet.
That was the day Steve learned your name.
He remembers you crying at Norm’s funeral and how hard—how brutally, valiantly hard—you tried to convince Steve that you were fine. He’s found that the best people are not fine when something like that happens. He has great respect for those people.
That was the day you earned Steve’s respect.
He remembers footage of the employee gym getting flagged during a day he was on duty as the therapy group leader. He recognized you as he fast-forwarded through hours of footage. You walked the entire time. Alone. After a full day of work. Your car never registered as leaving the compound gate either. In the circle, you were stubborn and cagy, refusing to roll over and open up.
That was the day you impressed Steve.
You didn’t lie. You didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. You never rolled over, but eventually, you did open up. He felt drawn to a kindred spirit, a thing old Steve rarely feels nowadays, so he tested something. He opened his arms.
That day you hugged him—really, really hugged him—and he couldn’t remember the last time he was held. What’s more is you prompted him to focus on the touch, not for yourself, but for him. How he ached for this without realizing. How he missed it the moment you let go.
That was the day you stole Steve’s heart. He hasn’t regretted a moment since, except, perhaps, that he waited so long to ask you out.
“Are you scared, Keeps?” His voice is soft as is his embrace. “I promise you’ll be safe, but I can turn us ar—“
“No.”
There’s his stubborn girl.
When he steps back, you drop your hands in front of you hesitantly. “Not scared. No. Just…I don’t know. It’s strange to think about.”
That’s no lie either. It’s mind-boggling to imagine coming all this way. Steve gently cups your elbows to ground you both. He’s utterly grateful. His prayer was answered. He was given an incomparable gift.
Even though he trusts you, he knows this is scary, but he needs you to know that he’s here, right beside you, forever.
Partners.
His head sinks down to meet yours, forehead to forehead.
“Strange to be happy—“ which he means in a much deeper, more complicated sense than he could ever explain “—to have something so good come from something so bad.”
With one guiding finger under your chin, Steve tilts your head so your lips can meet. It’s not the same as his overjoyed outburst when you were announced husband and wife. That was in the good times your vows spoke of. Standing in the memory of how you met is one of the bad, but he still loves you, he still holds you, and that’s the promise of this kiss.
“Let’s get you comfy and warm, yeah?” He runs a finger over your bottom lip, further smudging your red lipstick, but he doesn’t care. You can rub off on him as much as you like.
He stands straight to pluck a burgundy flower from your hair. He tucks it away with his pocket square. He plans to press it in a book after he sketches it. 
Every detail must be preserved. He won’t simply rely on photos or video though. He’s old school. He wants the sensory memories as well. It’s alright that there’s no photographer here, too, because Steve has a solution for that which can wait until his hands, nose, ears, and mouth have had their fill of you.
Next he asks if you want to remove the rather large sapphires that seem to weigh on your ear lobes. You take those off yourself and hand them over.
When he raises his hands to help with the clasp of your necklace, he pauses, tracing the neckline of your gown with the tip of his middle finger.
His new wedding band passes over you heart.
He knows he’ll have to leave it behind on missions. There was a moment of wallowing since tattooing one on wasn’t an option with how his skin heals; the ink can’t take. Steve didn’t much like the idea of buying a matching dozen in order to replace them as they were lost or damaged. This one is special. It’s the only one. This one, today, the one you slid onto his finger, has meaning far beyond a circle of gold. He’s going to protect it and keep it safe, too.
“Help me with the back?” You sheepishly turn, forcing the full bustle of your shirt to sweep across his feet.
Good lord, that’s a lot of buttons, and the skinny loops are more finicky than Steve’s most detailed sketches. He manages to only destroy three fastenings out of what feels like thousands.
He’s rewarded with a peak of your skin beneath, absently running the back of his finger over the side of your spine on your lower back. Even though you two have been intimate, even though he saw this soft expanse even before then—on the day you first said ‘I love you’—somehow it’s different.
He can’t describe why this pang in his chest is good, why when he feels as if he can’t breathe he’s happy about it, why he won’t lift a finger to correct any of his past because every second led here. Your worth is indescribable.
Once the dress is undone and pools at your feet, you’re the star at the center of concentric blue, white, and red circles. You are his shield. You are what protects his humanity. You are his wife.
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Tony didn’t pull any punches. The tent is basically a thin-walled house, practically a whole kitchen, a bed to actually fit both of you, and generously high ‘ceilings.’ Steve can stand to his full height throughout most of the space.
He’s stunned.
“Good evening, Captain and Misses Rogers,” F.R.I.D.A.Y chimes, startling Steve.
Of course. An entire artificial intelligence inside a fancy camp tent: the epitome of Stark, but Steve lands on feeling incredibly grateful in that moment.
There’s no one around.
You and he get to be completely alone for days, the air is so crisp and clean, and why is he just standing here?
Steve spins and rushes past the duffels he dropped at the ‘door,’ calling your name. His feet hit the ramp of the jet when he hears you behind him.
“Over here,” you harshly whisper. “Steve, turn off the lights!”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it.”
He smirks in confusion but trudges to the cockpit and shuts everything off all the same, muttering “yes, love” over and over like it’s a new phrase for him. When he thinks about it, it is because ‘love’ means wife now. Steve Rogers has a spouse.
He hurries back, squinting in the dark trying to see the outline of you when he realizes you didn’t layer much on.
“I thought you were gonna get warm, sweetheart.” His hand reaches out to test the thickness of the enormous sweater you’ve draped over you, but from the silhouette of your legs, there’s not much—oh.
Oh.
“I’m plenty warm,” you reply, your heart hammering so loud that he can feel it in his throat. Wait. No. That’s his heartbeat because Steve can see more and more by the second as his sharp eyes adjust.
Specifically, he can see your lack of bottoms and a clasp.
Steve swallows thickly. “Did you…are you wearing…?” He lost the words.
The damn garter belt is back, and if he thought he was being so coy and teasing earlier, he is not prepared to be controlled or wait now.
“Got the white one for a special occasion, ya see.” Your hot honey words stick to his brain and fill every crack. “But I was not going to wear these all d—AYY—“
In the blink of an eye, he scoops you up, strategically assessing the nearest surface which just so happens to be a picnic table a few feet away. He doesn’t mean to toss you down so hard, he swears, but he can feel the outline of satin over the swell of your ass.
Steve flips up the hem of your sweater without a second (or first) thought, nearly growling when the moonlight hits the pearly fabric.
He traces the edges of the belt and garters before realizing something else. There’s a glisten below the satin, and it isn’t more fabric. You’re bare and wet before him.
The instant his brain processes that you have no underwear on, the familiar scent of your arousal hits his nostril hard.
“Oh, Keeps,” he moans, one hand flicking open his belt and trousers while the other tangles in your wedding lingerie.
“For you, Sketch,” you gasp in response, breathy and thin with anticipation. “For my—“ you squeal at the intrusion of his fingers “—husband.”
You sound tortured already. It makes Steve realize how tightly wound he is from the whole day, too, and he’s sure this one will be quick. You’re both strung out on the essence of being married. There’s no way to calm down without getting off, or rather, that’s how he’ll justify taking so little time to savor you when he thinks of this later.
He has to pop open the bottom two buttons of his shirt so it’s out of the way, but his tie stays on. That you’re using to haul him forward atop you. He hears the clank of his belt down by his shifting feet and the sharp pants escaping your open mouth as he rolls his tip through your folds to line up at your entrance.
“Steve,” you breathe when he’s partly inside your heat, “look up.”
He can’t stop his momentum, and the drawing force of your walls against his throbbing cock keeps him sinking deeper even while Steve raises his head. His back arches to view the sky. He’s fully buried in you at the same instant he sees that you both are floating in the vast Milky Way.
The light shining down is not moonlight; it’s billions of stars and a nebulous stripe of galaxy that scars the night. 
He’s dizzy, light-headed, and utterly consumed by pull of the universe. His universe. You.
Your body is the central hearth of his world—his home—and your warmth fuels a combustion of euphoria in his veins. It powers the electric jolts of pleasure the sizzle up his spine. He steadies himself with both hands tucked beneath the garter straps to grip your thighs wildly, pinning you open to his lust, spreading the sound and smell of your union.
The raging spin of gravity controls Steve so completely, he can’t warn you he’s coming. He can’t let even a molecule out of his seizing lungs. He tips the scale of ecstasy to unceremoniously fall straight back down to rest in your waiting arms. His breath stutters like his hips, both dragging across your cool, damp skin. He’s not expecting those heavy ruts to push you over.
Your rippling orgasm drains him, and his soul begs you to take whatever pieces of him you want. Every drop. He’s yours.
“Sorry,” he huffs when his brain finally restarts. He lifts most of his weight off of you gently.
“Yeah, me too.” You stare at the stars, ravaged by the same G-forces that wreck him now. “I’m sorry you’re so good at that.” With a blind pat at his still clothed chest, you snort lightly, “terrible really. Want a refund.”
“Oh, ok. Did you say ‘repeat?’ Don’t mind if I—“
“Fuck,” you groan as he pumps once more. “No. God. Give me a minute.”
“Honey, I’ll give you a lifetime.”
The hum of sex softens in your expression when you turn to look at him, your eyes now adjusted to the low light of this beautiful night.
“Good…because I want to see the rest of the place.”
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Everything is set up except the water. F.R.I.D.A.Y is ready with instructions on hooking up the jet’s water tank to the utility sink, so once all the packed supplies are in, you two are in for the night as well.
Though he can’t figure out where it’s coming from, the tent seems to be heated once closed.
Tony Stark. Genius indeed.
Steve mourns that the garter belt is off when you settle into the big bed, but he can see the indents left on your skin from the thigh-high stockings. He appreciates the time he had. Maybe they’ll meet again someday. He’ll survive without for now.
While you get comfortable and start to cuddle, his fingertips trace over your hip. Though you’re under the covers, the edge of the blanket drapes down your chest, meaning his big spoon view is all cleavage, and Steve’s got a full-blown montage of all his fantasies rolling around in that overwhelmed brain of his. They aren’t all sexual even; he’s so turned on anyway that it doesn’t matter.
He has time to savor you now. Days completely alone, and without the stress-tension of the actual wedding. Well past midnight now, Steve’s been a married man for exactly nine hours and twenty-two minutes.
He tightens his arm over your waist, whispering, “I love you, Misses Rogers.”
You stifle a yawn and wiggle closer to him. “Love you, Stevie,” you answer softly, chirping when he kisses your temple.
He feels you clench your ass against him, and Steve grunts. No doubt that was your commentary on his returned erection poking at your back.
“Sweetheart,” he tries in a low, cautious tone, “do you think we could…” Steve’s not sure how to word his request. He doesn’t talk dirty so he doesn’t have much vocabulary to express any sexual thoughts.
You turn slightly and lift a hand to his cheek. “You may do whatever you like, Captain. I’m all yours. I trust you.”
Steve’s heart swells with pride until his ribs nearly crack. He brings his hand to your cheek, too, and kisses you gently, pouring love and hope into each brush of your soft lips against his. This is his life. You are his wife. He could die happy but only after this lifetime with you he’s been promised.
When he breaks away from your mouth with a grown, his fingers are already tracing through your folds, the heft of his fist forcing apart your ass cheeks. Instinctively, you grab and lift it to give him better access, moaning when he penetrates you again. You’re still slick from before, some of his cum is there to smooth his way, but that’s good for what he wants.
He’s quickly satisfied by your openness, and Steve lines himself up to enter you. Even though the cabin is heated, even though he runs hot naturally, there is something wildly soothing about burying himself to the hilt in you. He gets one gasp of satisfaction from you before he pulls your hand away to take in his, lacing your fingers together. He lets himself be pushed out slightly as your ass relaxes against his pelvis. Steve stops moving, taking in deep breaths of you and settling your combined hands in front of you.
He kisses your stretched neck. “Can I stay like this for a while?”
Your walls grab at him, but he doesn’t thrust in response. Steve hears how your heartbeat picks up for a moment then tries to calm. You nod and hum approval. He snuggles up to you, his face resting against your spine between your shoulder blades.
He’s still. You’re still. The Earth is still.
Steve relishes every tiny detail of this moment. He takes so long to savor it that your heart slows and your breathing goes shallow. You’ve fallen asleep—likely a light sleep, sure, but that’s how much you trust him. His thumb rubs over your palm absently. As comfortable as he is, he cannot fall asleep like this. The residual effect of the day is an echo of all lovely things, emotional and supercharged with anticipation.
You married him. You two are married. He has no idea when the novelty of that will wear off, but for now, the thought alone makes him unbearably excited to have you close, and hot, and loud with him. His cock has been twitching the whole time he’s been thinking so hard about this, and you haven’t woken. Even if he wanted to let you sleep, eventually he’d have to pull out before he could sleep himself, so he slowly, experimentally, rolls his hips away.
Your hand tenses in his as another soft gasp escapes you. Your hushed voice calls him, says his name like a plea and a prayer. You’ve grown wetter, silky smooth and just begging to be used.
You untangle your fingers and press his hand to your breast.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice.
Like a dance you both have practiced for a lifetime, your needs synchronize. Steve nips at your shoulder while you spread your ass for him again, allowing his thrusts deeper. He’s rewarded with desperate whines and muffled curses until it all molds into one cry breaking in rhythm with his pace. God, you are sexy. God, he is so hard for you.
As much as he’s enjoying this, he knows that you can’t come like this. He abandons the nipple he’s been toying with to graze down your stomach and thigh, parting your legs and lifting the top one until you catch on and switch to holding that instead. His thrusts slow as he circles your clit, already soaked by your arousal.
He can tell you’re close when you go quiet, biting your lip as an “oh, fuck” escapes.
“That’s it, love. That’s it,” Steve pants, craving your coming apart as much as his own. “Baby, please,” he begs.
His favorite shattered sound rises in your throat, and he plants himself inside you to feel that fluttering grip of your orgasm to full effect. He has half a mind—as he continues to torture your clit—to wring one more out of you before he comes, but you’re tired, he remembers, and that wouldn’t quite be fair. He knows you’d say yes, but you have days to be alone, days to handle and tease and caress each other to the brink and back.
You drop your leg, pushing his hand out of the way, and reach back to pull at his hair. “Do it,” you growl as an order, “fill me up.”
Steve may not be able to talk dirty, but he has to admit that in the throws of passion, he likes hearing one or two filthy things from you. It’s almost like a taunt for punishment. The excitement of you playing with him that way has urgent pressure lapping at his spine, tightening his balls while the whiplash of his own orgasm snaps his hips flush against you. He continues to press forward, unable to recede so much as a millimeter, the intense surge of blood to his groin depriving his brain of the ability to care what he’s doing so long as he’s inside you.
He pushes. You release his hair. He pushes more. You shout a bit in confusion. He pushes again, almost drained of his sanity, it feels, and then he hears a slap as your torso leaves the warmth of his chest.
Steve finally opens his eyes.
You’ve almost fallen off of the mattress, braced by your arms, your feet secured behind his thighs.
“Sorry,” he shrieks, twisting so fast to get you off the floor that you flail, planting your hands hard against his chest. You’re sitting up straddling him now, still facing away, your bare chest heaving in the near dark, the blankets banished in a heap to one side. He presses a wide hand to your back for support. “Sorry, Keeps.”
“’S…” You try to control your own body again, incidentally clenching around Steve still inside you.
He moans, his other hand joining to hold your waist.
“’S fine,” you finally get out. “’S fine.”
A long silence descends while you both recover.
You turn to eye him over your naked shoulder. “Think you can sleep now?”
“Oh, god.”
He’s pretty sure he could die right now. He’d be happy and blissed out beyond his wildest dreams, but he definitely can’t walk over to get a warm cloth just yet. “Give me a minute.”
It’s you—his stubborn, amazing, unpredictable wife—who dismounts him and the bed first. “I got it, love,” you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
There must be a draft of the heating somewhere close because Steve’s hit by the intense aroma of him and you dripping from between your legs. He groans, filing that memory away with so many others from the day.
Sure, he can have you whenever he wants, but can he handle that? Through the tender care and warm embrace you offer, Steve makes a simple plan for his future: do whatever makes his wife happy…and do anything that makes her come like that.
He’s been married for eleven hours and thirty-seven minutes.
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@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes
beautiful sparkly dividers by @silkholland
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norelationtoatticus · 10 months
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Chapter 13 is up, and it is very NSFW!
In which Steve and Bucky have reckless, wild sex for about 10,000 words, and also a bunch of feelings, too. (For real, though, this is just a PWP chapter... more plot will commence with the next update.)
“Such a little shit.”
“Huh?” 
Steve is distracted. Feels like he is floating, lost, not entirely on this planet.
But Bucky’s clever mouth lifts with a lopsided smirk, and that pulls him back to Earth.
“Wish you could see inside my head. I’ve got something else I want you to draw for me.”
“Oh.” Steve laughs, a little shy, a lot curious. “How did it look?”
Bucky just laughs. Covers his face and laughs. 
Steve laughs too, and sort of wishes one of them had thought to take a picture, sort of wishes he could have seen it, too, from that angle, Bucky’s left arm disappearing inside him…
“Leave it to you, to wait until a moment like that to tell me you want the biggest, most dramatic thing you can think of. You’re such a punk.”
“Mm-hmm.” Steve nestles in closer. Runs a fingertip down Bucky’s chest. “Your punk.”
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macksting · 6 months
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Murderbot: System Collapse (and Susan Pompoms)
This is not exactly spoiler territory but I'm still putting it below a cut. (It might qualify as spoilers for El Goonish Shive, but I kinda feel the same about that in this case too.)
Bharadwaj says even good change is stressful.
A relatively recent page of El Goonish Shive has a character facing this head-on. Unfortunately for Susan, she wants to be rational about things, even though she knows she sometimes isn't, and seems to consider it a bit of a weakness. She's harder on herself than she is on others. Big Mood. We have to deal with our own bullshit 24/7; at least when we sleep or are alone we aren't around someone else's that often, and even then it's a different angle on the subject and, in my experiences, compassion is easier.
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[ID: El Goonish Shive page. Susan and Sarah are standing talking on the roof of the high school. Susan is facing away, distraught and trying to hide her expression as she has lost her composure. Sarah suggests, pursuant to a page omitted, "It, um. Maybe you're upset by change?" Susan, still facing away, incredulously asks, "By good change? Not the store closing, but... quitting a job I don't want? Being done with this school? Not having to deal with that terrible locker anymore?" Sarah, concerned but calm, continues her supposition: "Well, I mean... You've worked there for years, and you've been here for years. It's what's normal for you, and... there is stuff you like about both places, right? Like, you started your movie review show with Elliot because of your job, and... you have friends here. You met Catalina here. Got to know Elliot and Tedd here." Susan half-smiles, her expression still bearing the strain of the strong emotions she's navigating, and asks, "And what's there to like about a locker with a sticky door?" Sarah smiles and replies, "You share it with me?" Susan, the sardonic half-smile gone, turns to face her more fully, and with a haunting expression as she comes to terms with it, pauses and says, "I want to hang out more." /end ID] So, y'know, right now I'm a mess. One little line messes me up so much. okay from here on I'm just fangirling to clarify shit. If you don't wanna hear me ramble about these fandoms in the abstract, adios. If you're a Murderbot fan wondering what this is about, El Goonish Shive is a webcomic that's been going since 2002, is unapologetically queer, has both accidentally and deliberately given earnest and deeply compassionate portrayals of queerness and neurodivergence, and also is just interesting, clever, and has a really big cry button moment as early as 2003. Susan in particular doesn't use the label asexual; Dan Shive considers her sexuality representative of his own, and is personally uncomfortable committing to restrictive labels such as that, though he knows how important they can be as well. She is beloved by asexual fans, okay frankly she's beloved by all fans because she's a complex, fascinating character whose political and philosophical views are her own, and excuse me I'm a mess again. She's not even my favorite fucking character. If you're an El Goonish Shive fan, I am crying over a construct made of cloned human tissues and robotic parts who is bitter, sardonic, and spent the first few books in a deep depression it was not aware of, has developed into a badass punk, and has an unsophisticated but very personal perspective on oppression, slavery, and artificial consciousness under a corporate dystopian rule. It calls itself "Murderbot" because of an incident it cannot remember that led to it hacking its governor module so that it might never be forced to kill again. It will kill, it's occasionally even Plan A, but it's a choice, not an order. ("As a heartless killing machine, I was a terrible failure." - Book 1: All Systems Red.) It is asexual ("Things. :p"), prolly aromantic, prolly agender, and wonderful.
Then she added, “You know, you can stay here in the crew area if you want. Would you like that?” They all looked at me, most of them smiling. One disadvantage in wearing the armor is that I get used to opaquing the faceplate. I’m out of practice at controlling my expression. Right now I’m pretty sure it was somewhere in the region of stunned horror, or maybe appalled horror.
My favorite installment takes place after the fourth novella, but the first novella is absolutely sufficient as a standalone work of fiction, with a satisfying beginning, middle and end, comes in a glorious audiobook format narrated by Kevin R. Free, and makes me cry a lot. The early "humor me" level cry button for me is when everyone confronts it, and it turns to face a corner to avoid their deeply stressful eye contact. I have heard that fan responses to All Systems Red led the author Martha Wells to seek out an autism diagnosis; compare Dan Shive's "It would explain a lot."
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shortpplfedup · 1 year
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The Definitive Ranking of My School President OSTs and Covers Part 1
14. 'Healing' - Gemini, Fourth, Ford, Satang
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Perfectly serviceable but the least catchy of all the OSTs for me. Pitched way too high for all of the singers unfortunately. I love the sentiment, but the song itself is my least favourite.
13. 'No One Else Like Me' - Satang
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Another song where I enjoyed the sentiment more than the song itself. Satang has a lovely and quite strong voice and I don't think this song best displayed it.
12. 'Let Me Tell You' - Fourth
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There's a definite trend to the songs in the lower ranks of this list, in that I enjoy the sentiment more than the song. A nice little soft rock anthem, but Fourth isn't great in the higher registers, and the song feels like it just...ends, no strong outro.
11. 'Hook' - Gemini
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From here on out it's bangers only so the differences in rank are gonna be off nitpicking...lol. 'Hook' takes this spot because as much as the show's songwriters seem to love Gemini's head voice I far prefer his lower registers. 'Hook' is a clever little ditty, but I prefer the live acoustic version Tinn sings in the show to the studio cut.
10. 'Saliva' (Cover) - Fourth, Ford
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I love a good rearrangement, and reimagining this song with a ska punk twist is a nice touch. This honestly gets dinged for the rap...lol. Fun fact: this is the same song Yak's version of Chinzhilla plays for the juniors when they come looking for music club, just that was a more straightforward cover whereas this is a reimagining.
9. 'City' (Cover) - Fourth, Gemini
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I can't believe this isn't higher but I just can't put it above some of the stuff that's left. Blame it on Gemini's head voice and some unnecessary overproduction thereof.
8. 'Smile Please' - Fourth, Gemini, Ford, Satang, Winny, Mark, Captain, Prom
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The cutest little bop, and here I LOVE the rap. A smidge overproduced, the autotune on Gemini here is downright criminal, but I can't listen to it without dancing (and thinking of Satang's terrible dancing) so it's solidly middle of the pack.
7. 'Listen' (Cover) - Fourth, Ford, Satang, Winny, feat. Lookwa
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I wish Lookwa had gotten to sing some more in this show, because her incredible voice soaring above this song lifted my heart. In fact, she shoves everybody else into the background which is the only reason this song isn't higher. It's HER song, the boys are doing fine but they can't really sit with her.
6. 'Rock & Star' - Fourth
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This really is a game of inches at this point. Gun's songwriting wheelhouse is clearly soft rock anthems about being soft for his boyfriend and you know what, valid. The guitar intro really sells this along with the lyrics; for some reason 'I love you lots and lots' just sends me into floods of tears because it's such a simple, ineloquent sentiment but simultaneously so MUCH. Plus you just know Tinn and Gun both see themselves as the rock and the other as the star.
Up in Part 2: the top 5!
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wolfstarhaven · 2 years
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WOLFSTAR: ROAD TRIP
(Road trip / camping / vacation)
Summer is here! Let me therefore present some wolfstar!road trip recs! There’s just something amazing about these kinds of marauders-on-vacation types of fics. I don’t know what it is, I just love them. So here we go!🚘🏕
Hard To Find, by accioromulus (13k)
The air conditioning is already broken, Sirius's back has been effectively glued to the leather seat via sweat, and this road-trip may have been a Very Bad Idea.
Definitely my fav road trip fic EVER. This is just sooooo beautiful, in every way. It’s so soft and sweet and cute and perfect and I love it. READ IT!🚘🚘
Harmonicas, Hinky-punks, and Heather, by @squidgilator (23k)
Sirius and Remus get stranded in Scotland on Order business, and decide to walk to Hogwarts. Featuring the Brontës, a harmonica, a shrinking tent, and some self-discovery.
A post-Hogwarts (first war) fic with absolutely no angst. This is incredibly sweet and funny, clever and well-written. Read it!
All Your Glory In Your Form, by ohkay  (2k)
In the aftermath of Sirius leaving the Noble and Most Ancient Mausoleum of Black, things go a little sideways, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter think the beach will cure all ills.
Super short but such a sweet fic. In which after Sirius has been disowned, the boys go on a little vacation. Well worth your time!🌊🌊
Going As Planned, by lionturtles (2k)
Camping, drinking, awkward kissing.
Oh I like this one! I’ve read it so many times😍 It’s a very marauder-y fic (basically the boys being the idiots they all are). A campfire, marshmallows, a game of never have I ever - what more could you need? 🔥⛺️
One for the road, by rojohbi (4k)
Piling into the car was uncomfortable and cramped, but there was something oddly satisfying about sitting on ratty blankets in the backseat, a box of fresh comfort food at his feet and Sirius’ legs splayed over his lap as the other backseat-inhabitant nestled himself into the corner and almost immediately began snoring. James met his eyes through the rearview, and this time when he saw the knowing smile, Remus smiled right back.
This fic was such a pleasant surprise! It’s a short fic, but at the same time it kinda feels like a longer fic. Gorgeous! A little angsty (but ofc with a happy ending), with a lot of Remus doubting himself. It also has so much feeling - it’s beautifully written, and kinda makes me wanna go on road trip. And the pining! Sweet lord, it was wonderful! I definitely recommend this fic🚘
Heat, by LadyAmina (2k)
The summer air is too warm. The campfire isn't helping. Neither is Sirius's head in his lap. Neither is the burning blood in his veins. Remus is overwhelmed and something has to give.
A cute little camping-fic in which Remus gets a li’l jealous, when James and Sirius discuss girls (how could that be???)🥰🔥🏕
June, And Other Natural Disasters, by montparnasse (6k)
Sirius talks, begs, and bribes Remus into a spontaneous trip to Brighton the summer of their graduation. Remus loses all sense of direction; Sirius loses his shirt; Remus kisses the last moth-eaten vestiges of his sanity a long, sloppy goodbye.
This is not as much fluffy, as it is sexy🔥🔥 Honestly, it’s a little too smutty for my taste - but it’s still very good! If you’ve read anything by montparnasse before, you know that they write really well. So, if you’d like to read a well written vacation-fic full of sexual tension, then this is the fic for you!🏖
Camping, Comfort, and Clichés, by oliverdalstonbrowning (5k)
Remus goes on a camping trip with his friends, and discovers all the comfort and clichés that go with it.
Very cute!! I just love a fic in which Remus is pining - it’s everything I need in life. Go read it!⛺️⛺️
the private kind of purple, by greenscape (6k)
Post-grad summer. They are reaching for things they cannot name.
Or, it's four days out of Hogwarts and Sirius and Remus go wild camping in Scotland.
This. Is. Beautiful. Quite painful, to be honest, but so damn beautiful. It’s tagged with the very appropriate tag “light on the camping heavy on the angst”, which I’d say is very fitting. But oh, you have to read it! Just... the prose! Everything! I don’t know what more to say except give you this little snippet:
“But now Sirius is asking, not telling, and Remus is tired, and the tent is dark, so dark, and they are the only two people in the world, surely. And Remus wants Sirius more than he wants to be back at Hogwarts. More, even, than he wants to be fully human.”
tomorrow, when the world is free, by waynebruce (2k)
Sirius, in a tour-guide voice: “The White Cliffs of Dover, part of the North Downs formation, is the region of English coastline facing the Strait of Dover and France. The cliff face, which reaches a height of 110 metres, owes its striking appearance to the composition of chalk accented by streaks of black flint-”
“Padfoot, mate, you never told us you could read,” says James. Sirius whacks the back of his head with the guidebook.
Such a beautifully written road trip! A pre-slash fic in which Remus pines a lot.
There Is a Light That Never Goes Out, by @wanderingbandurria (2,4k)
Sirius might have a plan on the summer before seventh year that might not be completely legal. And he might invite Remus to partake in it. And Remus - he might says yes and find himself being Sirius' getaway car in an unexpected road trip through the countryside.
Or, a summer road trip leads to Sirius and Remus to review their feelings for the other.
A different kind of road trip! In which the boys are friends with benefits, and thus are pining away because of their inability to communicate… stupid lovely little boys! This little fic is absolutely wonderful.
That’s it, friends! I hope you enjoy, and that you’re having a lovely summer so far<3
xx Elliot🌸
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astro-break · 6 months
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Thoughts on the 9th ep of Hypmic Rhyme Anima+. Spoilers beware
Season 1 | Ep.1 | Ep.2 | Ep.3 | Ep.4 | Ep. 5 | Ep. 6 | Ep. 7 | Ep. 8
rip kuko isn't athletic weakass punk (affectionate)
oh those are some pretty neat names i guess, their dynamic is pretty cute, very shippable imo
so it does seem to be something that only we as the audience can see, the effects and stuff. I still hope its explained as a mass hypnosis bc if it is, that has such cool implications for the series as a whole
ugh again pacing is weird. The fight scene just felt stilted and not great. Leagues better than season 1 for sure but i still mourn what could have been if the animators were given the proper money, time, and resources to do it
DoHifu is very cute and still one of my fave dynamics
HAHAHAAA DOPPO TAKING SELFIES STILLL
I love how Dice mixes up Momotaro and Journey to the West lmaooooo
Poor Doppo always getting the short end of the stick
OH damn, theyre following the myth pretty closely with the magical circlet and all. In the myth, Buddah puts a magic circlet on Monkey's head so that Tang Sanzang (or tripitaka depending on the translation) can control him from goofing off too much. Very intriguing in how they might use the circlet in the episode
If you're curious Dice is Zhu Bajie (Pigsy), Gentaro is Sha Wujing (Sandy) and DoHifu is Bai Long Ba which directly translates to white dragon horse. Because thats what it is, a shapeshifting dragon who took the form of a white horse. Rip horsey
RIPP LMAO I love when each other know their strengths
Damn bad guys being bad guys montage
Thats cuuteeee I love the little roomba device he rides
LMFAOOOO RAMUDA AS THE SISTERRRR
Oh huh so thats the origin of that idiom. Wasn't aware of that which is fun, always leaning something new
I like the reverse of what you'd think of what a ninja is by being larger and beefier.
I like the imagery of Ramuda rushing ahead like Monkey, its a nice comparison
LMFAOOOOO so thats how they do that, very clever. Tho Jakurai has like box shoulders and i think thats hiarious
THE HORSEEEEEEEE I CAN'TTTTT IM SORRY
Poor DoHifu they got done so dirty just being horses among the amazing outfits
Oh look at that my faves got very pretty matching sets now!
THe multiplying of Ramuda is another Monkey power which is that he can transform his hairs into clones of himself. very fitting for Ramuda The answer to the question of if Monkey would fuck his own clone is undeniably yes but would ramuda?
They're also sitting on the palm of Buddha, a very instrumental place at the very start of Journey to the west. It speaks of Buddha who challenges Monkey to jump out of his hand but when Monkey tries, he realizes that Buddha is infinite and there is no escape from even his nail. This is how Monkey gets trapped eventually leading to his addition to the tripitaka's party
Hm, im on the fence about this one. Its good but not great. I think over time it will grow on me a lot but not anytime soon
The beat is very good tho, i would love to just listen to a instrumental version of this
Idk i think fling posse's overall voice is just a bit too high for the song while Matenro makes it nice and mellow
awwww thats sweet. Also Gentaro is very fitting for Sandy who is an idiot but a fun idiot as opposed to Pigsy who just wants to beat monkey at one thing but never can
I never realized but in the illust, Ramuda has a tape measure on his costume and only there. its a neat little detail
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mysteriawrites · 9 months
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hello!! I would like to request a matchup with a genshin character. please and thank you! 🫶
Orientation: asexual + greyromantic (male preference).
Pronouns: she/her
Appearance: I'm 5'1. My hair is a darkish-brown with light brown streaks, and I have a long, whispy layered pixie cut. I have an inverted-triangle head shape, and I have a triangle + mesomorphic body type. I have dimples. I have beauty marks mostly on my shoulders and arms. I have olive-toned skin. I have almond shaped eyes, and my eye color is brown.
- Some people say I'm intimidating, but then others are basically like, "she's just a little guy! :D".
- I wear glasses because I'm just THAT smart, obvi ✋️.
- My overall style is grunge, comfy, and artsy.
General personality traits + extra: Nice, independent, caring, calm, clever, intelligent, empathetic, friendly, gentle, humble, genuine, forgiving, hard-working, humorous, kind-hearted, reliable, logical, mature, observant, patient, selfless, sweet, responsible, wise, emotionally strong, accepting, supportive, quiet, awkward, reserved, straightforward, shy, tired, blunt, brutally-honest, gullible, procrastinator, lonely.
- I'm a good listener! I always try to reassure people that I'm there for them and they can talk to me about anything. I never judge.
- I genuinely care about others.
- I'm slow to warm up to others, but once I do, I'm much more outgoing.
- People say I have a comforting aura.
Likes: Going for walks, hanging out with friends, deep conversations, blankets, the night sky, sunrises and sunsets, astronomy, psychology, literature, ancient history, nature, meteorology, browsing, window shopping, sweets, pasta dishes, traveling, art, exploring, cats and dogs, music, fruit (specifically watermelon, raspberries, and strawberries 😩), coffee and tea, laughing, joking around, stormy weather, learning more about the things that interest me, to clean (willingly).
Dislikes: Waffles. , alcohol (for personal reasons), centipedes, anything that makes someone not redeemable (or whatever I think deems someone as a terrible person), humiliation, hot weather, people not listening to what I'm saying, silent treatment, being watched, chemistry 🤬.
Hobbies: Painting, ceramics, playing video games, reading, listening to music (I'm pretty diverse with my taste in music but I mostly listen to k-pop, j-pop, pop, rock, punk-rock, pop-rock, calm, '80s, early 2000's, 2010's) and occasionally podcasts (comedy, stories).
Etc:
- My main love language is quality time.
- My big three are libra (sun), pisces (moon), and capricorn (rising).
- My MBTI type is INFJ, and my enneagram type is 5w4.
Thank you for the request! Sorry this is extremely late. Just gonna get straight to the point DRUMROLL PLEASE!!!
🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁
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THOMA!!!
You and Thoma are very romantic kind of couple. You have similar likes and personalities you’re like peas in a pod.
You and Thoma met when you were hired by the Kamisato family. You were hired as Ayaka’s latests attendent. Your were practically her big sister.
Because you and Thoma see each other everyday, he wanted to get to know you better. He noticed you were a bit shy so he decided to invite you out to do some things he thought you would like.
He invited you to small outings at first like walking around the garden and helping him with cooking. As you two got closer and he found out about more things you liked he invited you to more things such as: a day on the town.
He took you out on a shopping spree where he would pay for everything (Thoma is a stubborn lad don’t fight him on this). He thought it was so adorable how your eyes lit up at the books you picked out at the book shop and the budding flowers from the flower shop. You saw a lot of Inazuma that day.
After a shopping for a few hours he took you to a cute restaurant and that had all of your favorite foods you almost didn’t know what to pick! You also got to learn all about him during your day out.
At the end of the day he took you to the top of a hill in a beautiful meadow. It was the perfect place for the two of you to see the stars. He asked you all about astronomy so he could hear you cutely ramble about your passion.
Before you headed out Thoma took you hands and confessed his feelings to you and asked you to be his girlfriend while holding a beautiful bouquet and blushing a bright pink.
(And that kids is how i met your father/j) Since then you and Thoma have been like those cute couples you see in romantic montages. You clean and cook together having fun together. Ayato and Ayaka ship you guys so hard. You’re dog parents to Taroumaru and he loves you guys so much.
He is the sweetest boyfriend. He pays attention to everything about you, gives you gifts and compliments, he does like to tease you sometimes but he won’t go too far. He treats you like an absolute princess.
10/10 very cute couple.
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lunarheslwt · 2 years
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First (incoherent) thoughts on each song from FITF after first listen: track by track
Alright so I wanted to put together a post with my first thoughts on each of the songs as I'm listening. I probably won't focus on lyrics because I don't even process lyrics during a first listen and also Louis' accent means I lose half of it anyways. So it's going off on vibes and melody mostly. This is mostly for my benefit so I can always remember how I felt about each song the first time.
The greatest: I'd listened to this ONCE when the leak came out and was stunned because I couldn't believe it was Louis. A perfect tour opener and album opener. It gets your heart racing from the start which is GREAT. is going bang so hard live and the first verse is so fitting to start a show off with. A headbanger. His confidence in this??? It feels like the musical version of him on stage in all his confident glory. 10/10. These ratings won't be accurate bc I'm gonna likely think each song is better than the other.
Written all over your face: y'all. I've seen god. I blacked out a little. Who let him moan hey babe into my ear like that. If I was Harry and he said it like that I'd instantly forgive. Amongst other things. It SCREAMS "I'm married to an aquarius" and that makes me laugh. It's so fucking sexy, that guitar melody is like crack, the flow of the second verse is the holy grail. I knew it would be a fav and God it's a FAV. fucks absolutely hard. What the fuck. 10000000/10.
Bigger than me: we know her we love her. I still think it's such a big vocal moment for him. His vocals are absolutely insane. 8.5/10 (only bc I've grown used to her!)
Lucky again: again had listened to the leak but this version is so different!!! The drums seem different and are closer and louder and Louis' voice too feels up close than before. It hits a little harder and I love that!!! Criminal that he cut out the outro of "I'm in love I'm in love". It's so VIBEY and I stand by it being fireproof 2.0. I love the lyrics and I think it's so clever and also they make me sob bc I'm thinking of THEM. 9.75/10 (again only bc I'm used to it I think!)
Face the music: I didn't know what to expect but I LOVE IT. That guitar is so "I must bang my head hard to this". It's going to be HUGE live especially when the WOAHHHH ohhh chant hits. It's so ENERGETIC and FUN and I love the theme of it so much, of wanting to be in the moment, not wanting to focus on the negative bits of life. The "I don't wanna face the music/but I still wanna dance with you" is so clever bc it's playing with thematic imagery but also saying "I would rather live in the moment with you then focus on all the negativity". It's CUTE. I love it. 10/10
Chicago: a grower. Initially I was not TOO hyped but the song then grew and grew and got so full that I was fully vibing by the end. The strings at the end chefs kiss. It's giving rom com sound track, a little cheesy and I love it. It's more walls era sounding but still fits in this album. I love the last like 50 seconds of it so much. 9/10
All the time: literally nothing I could've ever expected??? My brain had to recalibrate. I didn't understand a word of it like he's so airy and whispery (which is GREAT I love it I need a moment) but the higher tone in the chorus is so!!?? The little alien beats towards the end!! Is so funky and fun!! I can't tell if this is a sad one bc I didn't catch the lyrics. It's very vibey and I can see it growing on me insanely. 9/10
Out of my system: SLAPS SLAPS SLAPS. I'm glad I haven't over listened to this one yet. Still one of my favs from the album so far I think. I love punk rock Louis SO MUCH I fucking love the guitar and drums in this. It's a moment. 100000/10
Headline: chill and vibey and could fit on mitam!! I love her! His ACCENT is so thick on this one I'm obsessed. It's giving breakup song like never before so. Kinda feel like it's about you know who. Overlooking that it's catchy and the way he ends it with "sometimes I wake up and wish that you're beside me" (smth like that) in good raspy low voice?? Absolutely ended me. 8.5/10.
Saturdays: oh this one HURT. The lyrics HURT but I'm a sucker for melancholy. His clear soft voice in this?;!? Cuts me open but I love it?? But when that music dropped before building up it gave infinity and fix you and I'm obsessed with that I love when songs do that. Took it to a whole other level and it became a fav. And then him ending it softly?!?? EVIL GENIUS. It's so good. And painful. And good. The lyrics have left ME broken. 20/10.
Silver tongues: I could go on and on but I'm obsessed with it. I claimed her and I was right for it. I love how euphoric it is. I love the lyrics. It's such a banger and is already well settled into my faves. His brain is so massive for this song. 637357/10.
She is beauty we are world class: literally not what I could ever expect but I'm so here for it?? So DANCEY, so tight, giving club rave shake your ass sexy little number. It's just. It's so good. The "surrounded by lights" over and over!!! The percussion scratches my brain just right!! Very different but very very catchy I love it. 18/10
Common people: a more chill moment but absolutely beautiful?? I love the sentiments, singing about his past and roots and home. I love how soft his voice is in this. It's so heartwarming and sweet. I love how it gradually builds too. 10/10
Angels fly: SO GORGEOUS. From what I get of the lyrics, very sweet !! Chill but I love how it builds and I love the harmonies!! The lyrics made me all mushy. The high notes in the bridge?? My God he's an angel???; 9.5/10
Holding on to heartache: quite modern sounds I knew would be there but still was taken by surprise!! But he makes it work so well. I think it'll be a grower. His lyricism is INSANE. The bridge though where he's belting?? 10/10 transcendental experience. Overall 8.5/10 for now I'm overwhelmed with all the new stuff I need time to grow into them all
That's the way love goes: SAD. lyrics sad :( his voice is so soft and soothing and healing. The lyrics are also healing in a way. Acoustic and very calming to listen to. The nod to miss you?? And I guess it really was about helping a friend through heartache huh. The strings?!? And he ends it like that??? Lord. 10/10.
Paradise: I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR IT TO BE THAT GOOD?? SLAPPED?? DESERVES TO BE IN THE DELUXE?!?? the drums!! It's so cheery and hype!! THE LYRICS MADE ME EMO theymadeittheyaremakingit "paradise is getting closer" "I've never wanted something as much as I want you" IM!?? it's such a classic indie rock sounding song I need it live bc it'll fuck hard live GOD 1647457/10
Overall: I can't believe how good all of it is Louis is unreal I was right this is my favorite album
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nightmare-dreamt · 10 months
Note
hello! I would like to request a matchup with a character from demon slayer. please and thank you! 🫶
Orientation: asexual + greyromantic (male preference).
Pronouns: she/her
Appearance: I'm 5'1. My hair is a darkish-brown with light brown streaks, and I have a long, whispy layered pixie cut. I have an inverted-triangle head shape, and I have a triangle + mesomorphic body type. I have dimples. I have beauty marks mostly on my shoulders and arms, and I specifically have one on one of my ear lobes (low-key my favorite feature, huehuegjb 🤭). I have olive-toned skin. I have almond shaped eyes, and my eye color is brown.
- Some people say I'm intimidating, but then others are like, "she's just a little guy! :D".
- I wear glasses.
- My overall style is grunge, comfy, and artsy.
General personality traits + extra: Nice, independent, caring, calm, clever, intelligent, empathetic, friendly, gentle, humble, genuine, forgiving, hard-working, humorous, kind-hearted, reliable, logical, mature, observant, patient, selfless, sweet, responsible, wise, emotionally strong, accepting, supportive, quiet, awkward, reserved, straightforward, shy, tired, blunt, brutally-honest, gullible, procrastinator, lonely.
- I'm a good listener! I always try to reassure people that I'm there for them and they can talk to me about anything. I never judge.
- I genuinely care about others.
- I'm slow to warm up to others, but once I do, I'm much more outgoing.
- People say I have a comforting aura.
Likes: Going for walks, hanging out with friends, deep conversations, blankets, the night sky, sunrises and sunsets, astronomy, psychology, literature, ancient history, nature, browsing, window shopping, sweets, pasta dishes, traveling, art, exploring, cats and dogs, music, fruit (specifically watermelon, raspberries, and strawberries 😩), coffee and tea, laughing, joking around, stormy weather, learning more about the things that interest me, to clean (willingly).
Dislikes: Waffles. , alcohol (for personal reasons), centipedes, anything that makes someone not redeemable (or whatever I think deems someone as a terrible person), humiliation, hot weather, people not listening to what I'm saying, silent treatment, being watched.
Hobbies: Painting, ceramics, playing video games, reading, listening to music (I'm pretty diverse with my taste in music but I mostly listen to k-pop, j-pop, pop, rock, punk-rock, pop-rock, calm, '80s, early 2000's) and occasionally podcasts (comedy, stories).
Etc:
- I'm a barista at a coffee shop 💪.
- I'm told that I laugh like a witch PLS.
- My big three are libra (sun), pisces (moon), and capricorn (rising).
- My MBTI type is INFJ, and my enneagram type is 5w4.
I hope that wasn't too much for you 😭
-🌻
Matchup for Anon 🌻!
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Sanemi Shinaguzawa:
When you first saw him, it was clear that he had a scary personality and unknown to you he felt the same way for you. But, when the two of you actually got to know each other, you both seemd to be wrong. Deep down, he was a total softie and so were you. He tends to be soft only to those he cares for, so don't mention him being soft in public or he'll be upset.
He would want a partner who is independent and intellegent because he doesn't want someone who totally relies on him and someone who can't take care of themselves. Yes, he would want to protect you but he would love to see his partner defend themselves and tell someone off for doing something to them.
When he's upset and angry, he needs someone to be there to comfort him and thankfully he has you. He'll come to you when he's not feeling great and will just let everything out, needing someone to listen to him as he explains his problems.
I don't know why, but I could see you begging and begging him to go on cute little dates and when he finally agrees the two of you go on a cermanic date. He's rough with his hands so it can be challenging, but when the two of you are together and you're sculpting one of those pot things on the spinner wheel, his tough demanor is gone and Into a soft one.
6 notes · View notes
fatedmus3s · 1 year
Text
Everything Changes
Summary: Natalia and James aren’t on the same page anymore. But James isn’t ready to give up on them just now. Can they mend their little argument or will their relationship shatter before it has begun?
Word Count: 6,233
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20
"See ya soon, angel face!" He hollered to the departing redhead as he waved over his head. The girl giggled as she got on the train and blew him a kiss. James sent her a wink and turned with a boyish grin as the train left the station.
"Angel face?" Came the snort next to him.
He turned his head to his shoulder and raised a challenging eyebrow. "What's so funny about that? Everyone says it."
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," Steve chortled as the two teen boys walked along the empty train platform. "I mean, she ate it up somehow."
"Oh, I see," James said slyly. "You're jealous of my charms again," James teased, turning with a carefree grin to Steve. "Or just Dot."
Steve snorted again. "I thought it was Dorothy? Mixing them up already?"
"No! Dot just sounds better, and she thinks it's swell," James shrugged, feeling no need to defend the redhead's nickname. Instead, he glanced over at Steve as his friend laughed again. But in the gusts of the cold fall wind, the laugh turned into a coughing fit and James looked his friend over while he tried to hide his worry.
"Come on, let's get to the depot, punk," He said and dropped his arm around Steve. It was a protective gesture to hold him steady when his friend inevitably went off balance from the coughs wracking his sickly frame. But both boys could pretend it was just a friend messing with a friend.
"Well," Steve said as most of his coughs subsided and James could take his arm away again. His voice was stern now, with a strange, harshly accented rasp. "It's not like she's coming back."
"What? He stopped walking, withdrawing his arm. He shook his head. “She's coming back," He snapped but felt worried despite his proclamation.
"She always comes back." But, as he looked across the plains of endless snow ahead of him, he suddenly didn't know.
"Even if she actually wanted to..." His friend was fading in the snowy mess quickly and he could feel the chill starting to seep into his pores as the sun disappeared. "She probably can't find her way through all this."
"She does want to, and she's clever," He protested, his eyes straining for the brilliant redhead in a desperate need for warmth as the cold began to wrap around his insides and turn his skin a paler tint. "Natalia's more clever than all of us." He added resolutely.
"Not clever enough," He was told, but the boy from before was all but gone, merely a shadow growing further, his voice a blur.
"You don't really know her if you underestimate her." He argued. 
<"But she wasn't even clever enough to stay away from you, Soldat.">
"She's cunning enough to handle it!" He protested with a deep growl, but the eerie silence ate the words. Finally, he looked down, the snow had overtaken him and his hand froze over, gleaming metal weighing him down suddenly.
<“Maybe she is, but you can’t even handle making her happy.”>
“She was happy… I can make her happy…” he told himself. The shadowy figure was stepping back forward again from the white abyss. His green beret stood out against the stormy landscape engulfing them.
<“You think you’re the only one she goes to? Others do much more for her than you.”>
“She wanted me to come with her; it’s just you stopping us,” He snarled. “You can’t control me forever.”
His handler laughed coldly. “You cannot even speak to the woman you love without my say so.”
“Arrgh,” He lunged forward, arms outstretched for his handler's throat, anger falling over him in endless, desperate waves. The handler reached up slowly and snapped his fingers, and James found himself falling backwards, the snow reaching up to strangle him. It dragged him downward, and he just wanted to see her smile at him again. With the warmth in her eyes, he knew it belonged there, instead of the horror everyone else looked at him with.
He hit something, but he was alone now in the storm, and the frost was forming on his skin. He couldn't move anymore and knew there was no real way he could go to her. Everything was gone in the confusing, bitingly cold snow wrapped around him. 
He looked determined through the blizzard; it was his only real action to try and get to his clever angel. The one who danced with demons but didn't lose her wings. He knew if he just saw her if she saw him again. Surely he could spot her red hair in the blizzard... if he could just get near her, her warmth would wake him up and he'd be able to move. To get through the tundra around him with her. He could tell her he'd done it, broken free. They could leave together.
Even that single action was deterred as he felt the snow rising on him. 
Then, he realized in a panic that it was his own arm pushing him down into the snow. Suddenly the metal took on a life of its own. A star was the only red for him, and it was as cold and lifeless as the snow as he drowned. Drowned in the cold made him stiff and immobile, taking her further away… somewhere she'd rather be.
With a start, he woke up to his chest seizing up. His glazed eyes took in the room, and he swept a hand across his forehead, pulling beads of sweat with it. He sat up hurriedly as he tried to pull any sliver of air into his lungs. The hopeless tundra in his dreams faded too quickly, leaving him with the wish he couldn’t remember the few words he woke with. Or the feeling he was nothing, he was useless… that Natalia would truly never want anything to do with him again.
He shivered as his damp skin met the cold air in the room. There was no silent snow or warmth, just a hard pit in his stomach. Fear… his own fear. It had been too long already… he'd been back in the Red Room one day, that he knew. He'd seen her from afar… she didn't take them out of the way loop that led her past his training room when she was headed for dinner. Did she really not want to see him again? James had just told himself she might need time to process or that she was angry with him about not remembering him but would come to understand it…
It all felt hollow, hollow whims that weren’t based in reality.
James tried to lie back down, to sleep until the sun rose, but instead, he stared at the ceiling miserably. Finally, he closed his eyes, that moment in the hotel running through his mind over and over again. He'd had a debriefing from his mission… whoever it had been, he'd been sent after, he couldn't recall now… but the way her eyes shone horrified at him didn't seem to have faded.
He sort of wished it would. Eventually his stomach was so tied up he couldn’t take lying there anymore. The sun wasn’t up yet, but it would be within the hour… didn’t she usually do her ballet before breakfast? When no one else was there to bother her?
James locked his fingers, trying to determine some reason that would justify him going past her. Just… just to see her, to see how she reacted however long later… to maybe hope she wanted to see him. Or that she was less angry…
Fuck it, he had to. No one was going to see him, anyway. No one paid him any attention until they needed him. He had to see her… James grabbed his clothes from the closet and wound determined through the halls of the Red Room until he was in front of the studio door. 
His hand hovered over the doorknob, his heart thudding harshly, suddenly it seemed like a poor idea to face her. It would be easier to wait for her to approach him. Easier to keep the idea she wasn’t as angry or hurt now, to tell himself that could be the truth. The truth… waited behind the door, and James wished he believed the idea she still wanted him enough to go through.
He hissed through his teeth, knowing he'd get caught if he stayed out here. So it was gone and face her, or walk away and hope that… that what? No, it was simply to save himself from reality. He couldn't even sleep. What was the point of that? James grabbed the handle and pushed into the doorway before he could think himself out of it.
He shut the door quickly. It couldn't be worse than the last time she'd looked at him. As he saw her across the room- mid routine- the bright lights bouncing from the mirrored walls, words failed him. He was rooted to the spot he'd come in. James wished he'd left now. It was harder to face her. To expect or want something different when she was already clear she was done with him…
Natalia splashed some water into her face. Strangely enough, she felt a little sick these days. Maybe she had eaten something odd, or her emotions were getting in the way. She had little to no time to adapt to all of this. It was so bizarre to feel like she was alone in this world now. She always did have James… her Winter, but now it wasn’t like this anymore.
She changed into her workout gear. She needed to get some of the building anxiety out of her system. Natalia walked through the empty and quiet halls. The girls were still asleep or waiting to be released from the beds. So, it would give her enough time to strengthen herself and train in ballet. An upside to this would be the odd feeling of leaving her body.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she ran a hand through her hair before securing them in a bun. Natalia started her routine by stretching her limbs. She leaned against the wooden handrail and warmed up her joints and muscles. Then, slowly, Natalia began to dance to an imaginary song. She allowed the melancholic melody to lead her from a first Arabesque into a high jump.
Natalia landed when the door suddenly opened and closed rather quickly. Her heart also dropped to her stomach when she saw a man in the mirror. It was the last person she wanted to see. After all, she had tried to stay out of his way since he returned from the mission.
His presence here was evidence that he hadn’t gotten the memo! What did he expect she would do? Natalia decided it was best to ignore him for now. What was she supposed to say anyways? He had clarified where he stood and what he thought about them… about a potential future. The reminder only made her heart ache even more.
At this moment, she decided it was best to close her eyes and continue to dance. What else was she supposed to do anyway with nowhere to go? Everything in this room was designed to reflect inward. So, it was easier to spot technical errors and adapt to them. There was no adaptation to her mistake, though. She loved this man and he didn’t love her back. So, there was no going back now. 
James saw her noticing him, frowned as she closed her eyes and continued her movements. She still didn’t want to see him. She spun, turning and leaping towards one end of the room before spinning slowly back to the other end. He watched her keenly, like a man desperate for water, even though she wanted him to go. He should go. Turn around and leave her be like she’d asked…
He didn’t want to, though. James rarely wanted, but he did want. He tried to talk to her. Although he wanted to take her back in his arms to clear the tension between them, he at least wanted her to look at him again. If not the way she usually did, at least not with horror.
He had a purpose, at least, then.
“Natalia…” He called softly, making himself step further into the room. They both knew she was ignoring him intentionally, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded until they talked again. She leapt past him and then did tighter turns before pausing by the bar to bend at the knees, down, and back up again, very controlled.
How he wished this was a usual time for them. He ached to reach out and steady her waist as Natalia reached up to set her leg on the bar. He’d seen them do such things in practice, wouldn’t she like that? If he partook in some way? Ballet was another thing she was passionate about, yeah… wasn’t she always so determined to continue those lessons as well? He seemed to be recalling that from somewhere.
James doubted she’d appreciate him touching her just now. So instead, he walked to the end of the bar so she’d have a more challenging time ignoring him.
“We should talk, yes?” He asked, reaching out to grip the wooden bar as it bounced up and down under the weight of her leg. James kept it still, as close as he dared to interrupt her. Although his original idea would have felt better.
Natalia tried to debate whether or not it was worth it to listen to him or to even acknowledge his presence. Finally, James made it clear that he wouldn’t simply leave. So, she needed to deal with this, if she liked it or not.
He took the decision from her and Natalia fought the tears threatening to well up in her eyes. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? She bit on her lower lip so hard it began to bleed. At least the pain was stopping her from actually crying because of him.
“What do you want from me?” She snapped and finally decided to look at him. Her face was schooled, cold and collected. Only her green eyes betrayed her and showed her turmoil and pain.
She put her leg down from the wooden bar and looked at him with a huff. “I don’t even know what we should talk about! You made your point pretty clear. So, excuse me now,” she rolled her eyes and took a deep gulp hoping it would drive the message home.
James stared, both relieved to find she’d at least spoken to him now but with an overwhelming and unfamiliar pressure on his chest. A weight trying to crush his ribcage and making it harder to breathe. He didn’t know how to fix that, so he ignored it. It wasn’t hard when Natalia tried her best to be cold with him. Was it a relief that he felt- that she wasn’t entirely able to?
He took a breath, trying to collect himself. Being this confused wouldn’t help the situation.
“We haven’t made anything clear, Natalia,” James frowned. The facts were easier. He might not have the right words for her, and maybe the truth was too damaging… but if it was, wouldn’t she say that? Natalia had never been one to hold her tongue. So James simply decided whatever happened in the hotel- made nothing clear for either of them.
“Then leave. I don’t need you-“
He frowned harder and tried to push away the pestering thoughts, an attempt to force the hazy dream away. James didn’t dream… but he had last tonight, and it was haunting him still. Shoved down into the snow, knowing he couldn’t stop any of it… did it have to matter? James could make her happy. She didn’t have to need him; she only needed to want him. Suddenly where the strain on his chest was coming from became clear. It was all these thoughts and dreams, and he just needed to put them to rest. There was no reason not to, so he didn’t understand her continued silence on something they could effectively fix.
They had been happy before this, and he could still be now. Even if she knew now he wasn’t… able to do everything, that he’d never leave… he could still make her happy here. She’d decided to stay loyal to the state after all, or she would have left during her mission instead.
“You’re still here,” He stated cautiously, not wanting to bring out her unpredictable anger from last time again. “So am I. Why do we need to change things?” He added and stepped closer to her. If it was about leaving… and he was as unsure of that as anything, then her decision to stay and not escape should have voided her unhappiness about the situation. She was happy before… why did they have to stop seeing each other if she’d decided not to leave the Red Room? He couldn’t go; she knew that now… did that really change anything if she also chose to stay?
Natalia snorted, annoyed when James told her that. Oh, hadn’t she? She basically spelled it out for him! He had made it crystal clear what he wanted from her. They weren’t…weren’t what she wanted him, no, them to be! He was content with the status quo, but couldn’t he see they were so much more? The only thought made her heart ache in this unbearable pain and threatened to tear her up again. But she had decided this man wasn’t worth the tears it would cost her. The apparent weakness she displayed.
“Where else am I supposed to be?” She snapped back and glared at him. What kind of question was that? This miserable place was her home and she couldn’t change that. Not alone… She might see a different home for the two of them, but she wasn’t strong enough. Not with this man staying behind. She couldn’t leave him and that was the actual problem, right?
Natalia furrowed her brows confused, as he stepped closer. Why did they need to change things? Because this wasn’t working! This was making her miserable. They could never have more and it crushed her spirits. He acted like everything was set in fucking stone. If that were true, her whole purpose in life was to seduce, fuck and then kill. That was her purpose, wasn’t it? Just do as she was told and look desirable doing that.
“Because I’m not some kind of toy for anyone to play with-” she snapped back at him and shook her head. He didn‘t understand and never would. Was that so hard for him to see further than the next mission? In the end, they were the same. People decided what to do next, whether it was a kill, a fight, or just retrieving information by sleeping with who they deemed to be the next opponent. “-Life is more than just an order…it can…it can’t be everything there is!”
They were all nothing but a mark in someone’s book. Someone’s grander scheme of things. Someone who didn’t care if they died or not. Here she had thought James would care if she died…Maybe he would even care, but it wouldn’t change a thing for him. He would still just do what they told him to.
Didn’t she remember saying she wanted them to leave? Maybe not… or perhaps she said it in anger and she was back to thinking as usual now. James didn’t know, but he could see her anger hadn’t abated, even though he felt she was sad also. Maybe he was kidding himself and just had no idea what she felt.
He frowned sharply. Of course, Natalia wasn’t. James instantly wanted to protest her words, and the sudden contrast hit him hard. What could he protest? That was her usual role in missions, many lately from Kudrin because she was testing the waters and because of him, too.
He’d never felt such a contradiction before. The sudden but innate knowledge that it was wrong for someone he cared for so much to do anything against her wishes… and the tried and true fact that anything was acceptable to do if it accomplished the mission. Their missions planned for them… that’s what she’d said. James grunted, his flesh hand tightening on the bar as a pain shot through his head. He looked down at where the mirror met the floor. He focused on that to push through the needles shooting down the back of his head.
Maybe- maybe it was acceptable for him to do anything for a mission, but not her? That seemed to ease the headache, but it was true too. James didn’t care what he did… the mission was all that mattered aside from Natalia. Which meant… if she was unhappy here (and of course she was, how many times did she need to try to run or insinuate before he realized?), then she needed to go where she could be happy.
How could he say that?
“You’ve always been better than the rest of us here,” He said quietly, his head stayed down, but he finally moved his eyes up to look at her. To see her reaction, to wonder if she caught what he was implying. It felt so hard just to say that, and he was starting to hate himself for it. Why couldn’t he say what he thought so readily in his mind? That she should leave. She was too good to be a Black Widow, too beautiful and wonderful to be trapped here with him and the rest of them. He couldn’t leave… but she could. Natalia was smart enough to do it, even if she’d have to run for the rest of her life. She’d be free…
He cringed at the sharp jab through his head. James fought it.
“You’re determined enough to make those decisions for yourself, Natalia,” He encouraged through his jaw locking up. He let out a heavy breath, letting go of the bar- and this need in him to convince her to stay with him- and the headache lessened. He could never give her that life she was daydreaming about… that wasn’t what he was… but she could go find it for herself. He wanted her… he wanted to be with her for longer… but he wouldn’t hold on so tightly that it snuffed out the fire he was so awed by.
Natalia snorted and wanted to laugh so badly at what he was saying because what else was she supposed to do? Cry and admit defeat? This man didn’t understand. He never did and by now, she thought he was playing dumb on purpose. Manipulating her like everyone else. But the worst part is that she wanted to be influenced by him if it meant staying close to him forever. He lured her like a moth that flew too close to the light, ready to be consumed by it.
“And what exactly can I get for being better?” She asked him back, her voice sounding sharper than she had wanted it to. What was that good for when she couldn’t get what she wanted or wished for? In the end, she was the same as everyone else. A path chosen to go until she died.
He couldn’t even look at her when he talked. It only made the pain worsen. Her gaze went to his hand, which threatened to splinter the wooden bar needed for ballet practice.
“Why would I want to make those decisions if the reason I want this stays behind?” She asked him, discouraged. Natalia didn’t want out when it wasn’t with James. Why couldn’t he understand that? She saw the future with him and not her alone. She didn’t want…It didn’t matter what she wanted if she simply couldn’t have it. 
This wasn’t about stubbornness or determination like James made it out to be. It was about how she saw the bright future for the two of them that it dulled the present and the past. It was so close to her reach yet so far away that she couldn’t properly reach it. Just a few more inches…Just a small jump that James wasn’t willing to take.
Natalia bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. She didn’t want to lose face in front of him. He clearly didn’t care enough for her so she wouldn’t lose her temper. Not again… She didn’t need to appear like a spoiled child crying for the lollipop it hadn’t gotten.
“Why are you here?” She finally decided to ask and gave him a glance. “You didn’t come to tell me how I should make certain decisions.” Natalia wasn’t even sure what he meant by that.
“Freedom?” He offered, breathing through the pain. Finally, James settled on her simply being angry. Still, he was starkly aware of his inability to keep up with whatever she was really feeling. He just had to assume she hadn’t understood what he was saying, not that he was being clear. He couldn’t. She didn’t understand that before; he wouldn’t bother trying to say it now. Besides, that was too dangerous to tell within the Red Room. Fuck, this was probably really stupid. It was getting on in the morning. James just couldn’t make himself leave like he ought to.
He turned his head to face her, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. What did she mean? Did she mean him? That she wasn’t going to leave without him? Why? It was a terrible sort of thing, the hope that spurred. She must still want him, that he must still be a source of good… but was he? If she were willing to continue down the path they’d made for themselves… but if she was, why the distance now? Likely she didn’t have it figured out either, James sure didn’t. Except she started all this, not him.
It left him without a course of action to take. He had more questions than he’d entered with. Natalia finally looked at him and he felt that weight in his chest eventually loosen. She looked guarded and confused, but there was no fear, no horror. James felt like he could breathe fully for the first time since whenever they’d been in that hotel room and fought. Whatever happened, he didn’t want her to end up hating him. He didn’t want to be a source of pain in her world. There was enough of that around them.
At least that was easy enough to answer. He took a decisive step forward and finally stood next to her. “I couldn’t leave things the way we did,” He told her, frowning sadly. James reached up to cup her cheek, sliding his fingers through strands of her hair. 
“I just want to be with you, make you happy, but I can’t seem to,” He whispered, staring at her longingly. James wanted to stay with her forever… but he knew they couldn’t do that. Theirs was a ticking time clock. James could see standing here now that he was a weight holding her down under the frozen lake with him. She’d said as much that she couldn’t keep doing things as they were. But, as much as James felt like he would drown without her around… maybe that was simply what he was meant to do. If she wanted it, Natalia was told for more… she always had been.
He let out an even breath, fighting the struggle in his mind to continue where the thought was taking him. “You’ve always been looking for…” freedom… independence from here… errrgh, he couldn’t say the words he wanted to.
“… something other than this life. Maybe you need to set me behind you, so you can…” So she could leave and gain the freedom she wanted so badly. He reached up and set his metal hand on the opposite side of her face so she’d really listen this time and kept his voice low.
“I can’t fight it like you can,” He didn’t know how else to say it more clearly. The words escaped him… as did the reason he should. He just knew that he was the Winter Soldier and that he needed to complete his missions. If there was no happiness for her around it, then she needed to find it somewhere else. Even if it meant he’d lose her in the process, was it realistic to think he’d have been able to keep her anyway? She was right… others could do more for her. “-And they’re not going to let their Soldier go. Don’t let me destroy your chances, Natalia. I can’t live with that.”
She was the only light he’d ever seen, the only real thing he ever did was make her happy, and he wouldn’t be the reason her light died out. He always thought she was seeing something in him that wasn’t there… but it was there, and he found it thanks to her… and maybe he’d lose it without her, or perhaps he wouldn’t. It didn’t matter because he wanted her to be happy and herself more than he wanted to keep remembering being James. What was the point if she wasn’t comfortable enough to stay near him? There wouldn’t be one.
“You said you need more,” He took a deep breath to fight the searing feeling again; he needed to say this to her. Staring at her, feeling her skin against his, he could fucking say what he wanted to her, dammit. “Go find your everything else, Natalia.”
Fuck, it hurt, but what was pain to him…? Even if this felt different than pain, more like an incapacitation, he could fight it a little, staring at her, touching her again.
“I thought that was already obvious. No one gets freedom in this place. We don’t receive that luxury,”Natalia rolled her eyes at his statement. Who cared about that, and what was it worth if you couldn’t share it with anyone?
He didn’t seem to understand, but she didn’t know how to explain it without saying too much. The last time, it had bitten her in the butt and she had thrown him out. Rightfully so. He broke her heart and she wasn’t even sure what he was trying to do. Mend things for them and make it even worse? Apparently, he didn’t want her around or at least not in the way she longed to be with him.
There it was. The sentence she had feared to hear. Or rather a variation of it. Natalia should be thankful that he was truthful, but it hurt her even more. It just crushed all her heart. “What if I want what’s in front of me?” She asked him tentatively. Would he understand the innuendo that she was saying? He clearly didn’t know that she wanted freedom with him. To get away with him and not on her own.
She confused him; she always seemed to be jumping ahead of something he was unaware of. If she knew they were in the place, they should be. So, why was she unhappy about them not going and doing such a thing? It was contradictory and James couldn’t quite follow where the anger was coming from when she seemed to have accepted their way of life.
“Then I’m here,” He said simply, but it didn’t lift the finality of it all. He was here, he wanted to be with her, was aching to lean in closer and taste her lips again. Except, she’d already said she didn’t want him here, she wanted this fairytale that didn’t exist, couldn’t exist with him. He dropped his metal hand back to his side. “I’ll continue to be here,” He added, running his thumb over her bottom lip despite himself. “But you must do what you need, Natalia.”
Natasha stared at him confused, as he leaned closer and caressed her lip with his thumb. It caused the oh-so-familiar tingle. Subconsciously she wetted her lips, but her heart only sank more. Finally, she stepped away from him and looked a bit wide-eyed at him.
What he was trying to tell her didn’t sink because suddenly, the urge to leave was more significant than to stay. She couldn’t do this again. Not after he had told her they would never be what she wanted… what she actually needed from him. Even if he tried to phrase it differently, it was still the same outcome. She was alone in this. He didn’t like her the way she did.
“I-I have to go,” she suddenly stuttered, unlike herself. She carefully placed the mask to show this wasn’t getting to her and had received apparent cracks. “I have this thing to attend to..” she murmured and began to leave the ballet room with long strides.
Her hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave. But what choice did she have when staying was like rubbing salt in the wound? It just made matters worse. So, she opened the door and walked out to her room. Leaving felt like someone had ripped her heart out and left nothing behind but pain.
On her way out, she didn’t notice Kudrin passing. The older woman had glared after her, but Natalia had other, more severe things to pay attention to. Her eyes were burning, and tears threatened to run down her cheeks again. She cleared her throat and aggressively wiped a tear away. Natalia needed to just make it to the safety of her room.
Her tongue raced across her lips and he nearly pulled her face to his, but she stepped away before he could. The loss of contact didn’t stop his chest from racing or suppress his urge to gather her in his arms and keep her close to him.
James frowned helplessly as she dismissed herself, and he reached out too late to capture her hand. To pull her back… but she was already racing across the room. Away from him… and to pull her back wouldn’t be right. James should have let her go if that was what she needed. But instead, he looked down, briefly closing his eyes to control himself. Watching her leave was too hard…
He looked up when he heard the door click open and dropped back against the mirrored wall as he watched her slip out. His hands tightened around the bar there, creaking under the stress of his grip. Fuck… fuck, he just wanted to follow after her. It was pointless and ridiculous, but it was not helping that it was all he wanted to do.
Instead, he stayed for a moment to collect himself before following through the door himself. Better to give Natalia a head start so no one saw them together, anyway.
<“Soldier.”>
Fuck him… fuck, it had to be her? If she was this close, she had to have seen Natalia too. Of course, there was no point in hoping she did not, so he schooled his features and turned around as she addressed him again.
<“You do not belong in this area.”>
<“I can go wherever I’m needed within the facility.”> For some strange reason, it had taken him a moment to pull the Russian into his mind. How was he supposed to talk his way out of this one? Especially when he felt so off-kilter right now. There was no choice; he had to.
“Leave my Widows alone; they have nothing to do with you once they’ve graduated and I’ll be more than willing to point that out if you push me anymore.”
<“You’re imagining things as always, Lydumila,”> He replied stonily, trying to push past any facts. Like the one where he’d never be in the studio for any other reason than seeking Natalia out. This was sloppy and stupid of him. He could get her hurt acting like this. Maybe it was all for the best… he just couldn’t make himself believe that. Even staring down Kudrin’s suspicious glare.
<“I have tolerated your little trysts, but know I will tolerate it no longer, Soldier. If you aren’t careful, I’ll make sure it isn’t simply my keen gaze noticing,”> She said sharply and slapped the folder she was holding sharply against her hand. He felt a little nauseous; had they been so sloppy that Kudrin was confident enough to voice her suspicions now? To confront him on them…
<”Your riddles are pointless,”> He growled, trying to strive for some neutral annoyance when it was dread he felt instead. <“I have no time for your nonsense.”>
He turned sharply and didn’t stop when she called after him, that he’d received her only warning.
God dammit… he would have to warn Natalia… or maybe that would play into Kudrin’s hand. Whatever that might be… what point was there in warning him unless she really meant it. She had no concern for Natalia or whim to see her protected for any reason, so he had to assume something else was at play. He hoped not… because there would be consequences neither of them could likely imagine if it was all found out…
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