#I’ve been trying to figure out How I wanna draw them and might just clown with this

[cookietastic]

Been trying to figure out how I wanna draw these clowns

#eugene fitzherbert #varian the alchemist #tangled the series #my art #I’ve been trying to figure out How I wanna draw them and might just clown with this

[izukuwus]

This is Home (NSFW)

A/N: Title references the song This is Home by Cavetown, which you can’t tell me isn’t an entire trans mood. Give it a listen, y’all. It’s one of my faves <3

This fic is part of @birds-have-teeth​‘s Izumonth collab to celebrate Izuku’s birth month. For the lineup, head over here!

(izuku with binder edit and overall banner both made by me)

Summary: When your boyfriend starts distancing himself not long into your relationship, you decide to confront him and remind him just how loved he is. (trans!Izuku x reader)

Notes: Izuku is a pre-op, pre-T trans man for this fic. Reader is implied to be a cis girl. I am trans. In this fic, I am writing Izuku experiencing something I have and do struggle with and I swear to god if anyone clowns in my inbox because I wrote this I will literally fling them out the window, killing them instantly. Not on this one, assholes.

Warnings: smut, oral (reader giving), gender dysphoria, smut smut smut, I cried but you might not

Word count: 5555 (sexy)

Izuku has been avoiding you.

It's not obvious, not at first. Your honestly wonderful boyfriend is more than happy to text you good morning and good night as always, even on the nights where he goes to sleep at 4AM, and it's not as though the amount of cute emoji following the texts has changed. He still eats breakfast with you after his (very early) morning run, still eats lunch with you and your combined friend group, still eats dinner with you whenever he doesn't forget to eat. (You're working on getting him to remember to eat at all the right times.) 

But one-on-one study sessions get cancelled. He now trains seemingly whenever you can't, even though you used to train together all the time. It's all the small things, like how he used to kiss you suddenly all the time whenever it was just the two of you, but now, you're hardly ever alone together often enough even if he still did. And maybe you're imagining it, but the usual sleep and wake texts are less enthusiastic than before. 

You want to believe that maybe the two of you are just progressing from the honeymoon stage of your relationship, but this doesn't feel like progress. 

This feels like distance. 

This feels like he’s afraid to be alone with you.

You don't want to pry, but something's up with him, and you've got an inkling of exactly what. One thing's for certain, though—you're not letting him go another day thinking he can't talk to you about it. Knowing him, no matter what the issue is, he's convinced himself it would bother you for him to ask for reassurance or something to that effect.

And so, perhaps a bit shamelessly, you corner him.

Well, not physically. You're not that mean.

But when you knock on his door when you know he's there alone and he answers, you don't give him a chance to brush you off. You shove your way right into his room and take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Talk," you demand, crossing your arms as he flusters and shuts the door behind him.

"[n-name], is something wrong—"

"Talk," you repeat, leveling a glare at him. "You've been acting weird around me lately. If it's something you're not comfortable talking about, that's okay, but if I've done something to make you avoid me, I want to talk about it and figure out how to fix it."

Izuku flinches, taking an awkward seat on his bed. (The other end of his bed. You try not to let show just how much that stings.)

"Y-you haven't done anything wrong," he forces out evenly, not looking at you. "I swear."

You shift closer to him, placing a hand over his own. "Izuku, look at me."

Green eyes meet yours. There's guilt there, and an underlying fear with a source you can only guess at.

"I love you, babe. I want to help you. You don't have to let me, but I really—fuck—" You sniff, pulling back to wipe at your eyes before you let any tears fall. "—shit, sorry. I just... I'm worried about you, and I don't want to lose you, y'know?"

He panics, crossing the distance between you within moments to pull you into a tight hug. His hand winds into your hair, the other settling in the small of your back and rubbing soothingly as he shushes you. "No, oh my god, angel, I-I never meant to make you think you did anything wrong. Really, it's not you, it's me!"

Your blood turns to ice in an instant at his words. "T-that's the kind of shit people say when they're explaining why they're breaking up with you, Izuku."

"N-no! That's not—That's not what this is. I love you too, I love you so much, I just... I'm scared, okay?" he admits, face pressed into your neck.

"Scared?"

He nods, hugging you just a smidge tighter. "Yeah. Scared."

"Of what, handsome?" You finally relax into his hold, snuggling into his shoulder with a sigh as you try to rein in the tears.

"It's probably stupid, and it doesn't really matter that much."

"Izuku babe."

"Yes?"

"Did it make you feel something?"

He hesitates before nodding slowly.

"Then it's not stupid, and it matters to me."

Izuku shudders in your arms, mumbling something you don't quite catch.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

He shifts, repeating himself just loud enough to be heard. "I wanna go further with you but I hate my body and don't want to take my clothes off to do it," he says, speaking so quickly you almost miss it a second time.

You freeze, a light blush on your cheeks. It's true that you've not gone that far with Izuku—he always seemed content just to kiss and cuddle and exchange sweet words behind closed doors, and god, you were happy just to have him in any capacity. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—there's bigger problems at hand than "your cute boyfriend wants to fuck you". 

"Oh, Izu," you breathe. "You know you don't have to push yourself, baby. It's okay if you're uncomfortable with—"

"B-but I shouldn't be!" he insists, wriggling away to look into your eyes with a pained look. "I don't wanna be uncomfortable. Not with you. I just... don't know how to... how to not be, and I didn't want things to escalate if I got alone with you because then I'd probably panic and push you away and then you'd probably feel hurt a-and it'd be my fault so I was avoiding you so I couldn’t hurt you before I was ready and then–"

"Izuku," you say firmly. "Don't push yourself for my sake. I'd feel awful knowing you did something like that for me. It's okay if we just kiss. It's okay if we never kiss. What's not okay is you forcing yourself into a dysphoric breakdown because you wanted to please me. If we fuck, I want it to be something we both enjoy, and I can't enjoy it if it's upsetting you or making you uncomfortable."

He tears up, yanking you back into a hug. "I'm s-sorry, [name]."

You laugh, tangling your hands in his curls and gently working knots out with your fingers. "You don't need to apologize, baby. I love you. And you know..."

"Mm?"

You smirk, looping a curl around one finger. Perhaps deliberately, your voice drops into a seductive, teasing voice. "If your biggest problem is either of us seeing your body, there's a few solutions. No one said you had to take your clothes off when we fuck, handsome."

He squeaks, and you swear you can feel his face heating up in your shoulder when he whines. He doesn't protest, so you continue, a grin spreading across your face.

"If you don't want me seeing you, you can always blindfold me," you offer, "or we could turn the lights off, or if you don't want to have to see yourself, I could blindfold you..."

"[N-name]!" Izuku yelps, burying his face into your chest to hide. "Stoooop, oh my god–"

Laughter bubbles from your throat. "Sorry, sorry. But those were honest suggestions. If you really wanna mess around with me a bit, I'm happy to let you set the pace. We kiss as much as you want, however heavy you want... Hell, I might even be into it if you order me around a little. Who knows?"

"O-order you?" You don't have to see him to know how red his face is—you can almost feel it through your top, the rush of embarrassment displayed on his freckled cheeks.

"Mhmm. I won't do anything you aren’t explicitly okay with. And the moment you want to stop, you tell me as much, and we can stop. But you know, I'm in love with you no matter what, and that includes your wonderfully strong body and your cute, handsome face. You light up any room you enter and make me want to work hard for my future. It’s not about your body. The fact that you're hot is a bonus, not the selling point."

He sniffles gently. You carefully go back to working through his hair. "But again, no matter how you want this to go, I'm okay with it. Your comfort first, baby."

He pulls out of the hug, worrying his lip between his teeth as he watches you. "If you're really okay with it, then... i-is it okay if I just kiss you, and we feel it out from there?"

You smile softly. "Go ahead, handsome."

Despite all the kisses you've shared before, every new kiss between you is charged with affection. Izuku can't help it if he melts into every kiss you share—your lips are so soft and you smell so nice and he loves you so much! Before he knows it, he's smoothing a palm against the back of your neck and deepening the kiss, moving his lips hesitantly against your own. He parts just enough to murmur against your lips: "I love you" and "tell me if you want me to stop" and "you can touch my arms if you want". (He knows you do. You only confirm it when your fingertips immediately drag along his upper arms, appreciating the muscles there.)

Before he knows it, he's swiping his tongue against your bottom lip tentatively and pulling you into his lap. You've been more than charitable—your hands remain carefully on his arms, your tongue in your own mouth even as he explores yours. You really won't go a step further than he asks for, and his heart swells at the confirmation. When he breaks the kiss, both of you are breathing heavy, a fact which draws extra attention to the fact that he's still wearing his chest binder.

"I-I want to kiss your neck. I-it's okay if you touch me, j-just please not my chest o-or my... Um, you know."

You mock-salute, a comically serious look on your face that clashes with your flushed cheeks. "Yes, sir! No chest, no ass, no between-thighs!"

The smile that pulls at his lips is utterly love-drunk as he leans back in, first pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips and trailing tiny pecks along your jawline. When he reaches your neck, he hesitates, and you wait to slide your arms over his shoulders. "Hun?" you say gently. "Still good?"

Green eyes flick up to yours, intense but wavering. "Y-yeah. I can do this."

Without any other warning, he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss directly onto your pulse, drawing a gasp from you when his teeth graze you just enough for you to feel it. Your hands slide down his back to find purchase as he continues, switching between peppering light kisses to your neck and honestly, doing pretty much anything that won't leave a mark.

Meantime, it's all you can do to gasp and whimper as he finds all your soft spots and goes on the full attack, and his hands roam your sides, climbing up until you're sure he's going to grope you–

And then he flinches and pulls back, just slightly. There's a quiet hiss through his teeth at the movement.

You'd love to whine at the loss, and normally, you probably would. But this is Izuku, and if you're going to let him set the pace, you're damn well going to let him set the pace.

You remove your hands from him completely, watching him with concerned eyes. "Everything alright?"

His heart twists at how gentle and concerned you are. One moment, you're huffing and looking at him with nothing but lust as he kisses your neck, the next, your brow's furrowed as you search him for any signs of fear or panic. 

He really doesn't deserve you.

"Do you want to stop?" you ask, voice soft in the way he's seen you use to talk to frightened animals.

He shakes his head, flattening a palm against his chest. "Sorry, sorry. M-my chest is just hurting a little."

"How long have you been binding today?" you ask without missing a beat.

A hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. "I, uh, I took it off during Hero Basic earlier..."

"And had it on all day before?" you ask, hands on your hips. "And all day since then?"

He nods sheepishly, refusing to meet your eyes. 

"Izuku..." You sigh. "I said I wanted you to be comfortable, but I also want you to be safe. Please take your binder off? I can look away while you do, I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I..." Izuku sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously. "A-actually, could you, um..."

"I can leave the room if it'd make you feel better," you offer.

"N-no! That's not what I meant." He wraps his arms around your waist, refusing to let you leave. "I-I, um, wanted to try..." His face is beet red, and in a panic, he buries his face in your chest to hide his embarrassment. "C-can you help me out of it?" he finally squeaks out.

"Oh, Izu. Of course I can help you." You gently maneuver his face away from your chest, carefully reaching up to work at his tie. "Let me know the second you want me to stop, okay?"

He nods, squeezing his eyes shut. "Okay."

"Would it help if I kissed you while I get your top off?"

After a long moment, he nods, hiding his blushing face in his hands. His hands stay there until you gently pull them away with a soft giggle. "I can't kiss you if you're hiding your perfect face, handsome."

He gives you a wobbly smile, and you pull him towards you with a gentle tug at his tie. You're careful not to push too far as you kiss him—soft, open-mouthed kisses that have him whining as you try furiously to get this damn knot untied. How'd he even manage to get it like this? 

Nevertheless, eventually you do manage to get the knot undone and start working carefully on the buttons of his school shirt. Once you're halfway down, you pull back to murmur a soft "are we still okay?" against his lips.

He responds by crashing his lips back onto yours, a hand roaming up your side until this time, he does actually begin to palm one of your breasts over your shirt. Soon, the other hand joins him in just feeling you, and you can't help but sigh against Izuku's lips.

When you reach the lower buttons, you're careful to not let your hands get too far down as you carefully un-tuck his shirt from his pants. You have to force him to stop massaging your breasts long enough to slide his shirt off his shoulders, stopping to roll your eyes in amusement when you find him wearing an undershirt above the binder. You carefully slide the tank top off, leaving him in just his pants and the colorful All Might-themed chest binder you'd sewn for him shortly after he came out to you. Fingers reach for the zipper tab on the front, but don't close around it just yet. Not when Izuku's breathing quickens the way it does, not when his eyes widen in panic.

"Do you want me to step out while you get out of this and put something else on?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head in silence. "Please just... Wait a minute." You nod, hand slowly retreating as Izuku calms himself. 

"C-can we, um, l-level the playing field a little?" he asks when his breathing is a bit steadier.

You blink in surprise. "In what way, 'Zuku?"

He drapes both arms over his face as he answers in a truthfully adorable squeak. "L-like, um, s-so I'm not the only one t-topless..."

Your smile is fond as you pat his cheek and lean in. "Can I give you a show?" you whisper.

He shivers, nodding almost too excitedly, and you pull away with a little giggle. "Stay right here." You scamper to the door, making doubly sure it's locked, and turn back with a sparkle in your eye. With his full attention on you, you cross back to him and tease at the edge of your shirt. You're slow in your movements, teasing, and his eyes are glued to you, jaw slack as you give him a mini strip-tease. 

Man, it's hard to have low self-esteem with a boyfriend like yours. He drinks in the sight of you like it's the first sight of water he's had in months, adoration and awe and lust and all things positive written plain as day in his expression. When your shirt's properly discarded, you give Izuku a little wink and press a gentle, sweet kiss to his lips. "How are we feeling?"

"Good! G-great! T-this is—yeah. Yeah." His face is flushed, pupils blown. His eyes keep darting between meeting yours and somewhere lower

You quirk a smirk at him, trying not to laugh. "So am I good to unzip you, baby?"

His hands come up to cover his face, green peeking out from between his fingers as he nods. "I-I-I think I'm good."

"You sure? I don't want you to push yourself if you're not comf—"

His hand snatches your wrist, forcing the palm of your hand flat against the center of his chest. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips. "I-if it's you, I can do this. Please."

"Stop me if it gets to be too much, okay?" you hum, carefully pinching the zipper tab and pulling it down slowly. His hand doesn't leave your wrist, but he lets you, exhaling softly when you unzip his binder all the way and free his chest from its confines after a long day.

Izuku panics. Not in the way he feared—he doesn't shove you away, doesn't run, doesn't freeze. But he panics all the same, dragging you into a hot, open-mouthed kiss before you can look at him, before he can see your disgust, before you can make fun of him or change your mind or or or or—

Gentle hands slide the binder off his shoulders with an appreciative hum. You're gentle as you straddle his waist, hands tangling in his hair, and when you go to pull back, he chases your lips. You giggle, trying to pull away to speak, but Izuku's too scared to let you—he almost whines as he continues pressing his lips against yours. 

"Everything good, sweetheart?" you ask as best you can amidst his onslaught.

"No—" slips out from his lips. "—I need you to keep kissing me."

"Hm, I can do that. But tell me if something's wrong, okay?" You punctuate your question with a kiss to his nose. He responds by meeting your lips once more.

He pauses, tugging you into a hug moments after breaking the kiss. "I'm a little scared right now," he admits. "You wouldn't... Hate me for how I look, right?" Tears brim in his eyes and wet his voice as he whispers.

"Never in a million years, Izuku. You're always going to be my handsome, strong boyfriend, until you decide you don't want me around anymore. I love you for who you are, not who you want to be, and I'll tell you as many times as it takes."

His arms shake around you. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too," you whisper, slowly pulling back as he releases you. "Is it okay if I kiss you, baby?"

"We were already kissing," he says, trying not to laugh.

You press a slow, sensual kiss to his neck. "I know," you breathe out in open, hot breaths, delighting in the way he shivers. "I meant... escalating."

"O-oh." His face is red, as if it could ever stop being red, and you break into a grin when he nods sheepishly. "I-if you want..."

"I very much want." You nod quickly, dragging your nails along his upper arms and around to his shoulders. Goosebumps follow in your wake. "If you'll let me, I'd like to show you all the parts I love about you. But first?"

"M-mm?"

"Say 'yellow' if you need me to pause or 'red' if you want us to stop entirely, alright? The moment you want me to stop. If you aren't sure, 'yellow'. Please? I don't want to cross any boundaries with you."

"Safewords. Okay, I-I think I can do that. Yellow to pause or slow down, red to stop." He nods slowly, a determined pout on his face. You grin and shoot him an adoring gaze before returning to his neck, one hand finding his to intertwine your fingers. His hand trembles in your grasp, but when you squeeze his hand to reassure him, he's quick to squeeze back. "Green to keep going?"

You nod.

"Okay. I'm okay."

You're slow and careful as you begin to kiss down his body, trailing along his jaw and each shoulder. The pads of your fingers massage along the lines where the seams of his binder had been digging into his skin, eliciting shivers beneath your fingertips. Intermittently, he squeezes the hand you've kept intertwined with his, letting out shaky gasps when you drag your tongue back up to his neck.

"You're doing so well," you purr. It's hard to keep your free hand in one place–you drag it back up to indulge in the fluffy curls atop his head only a moment before lightly dragging your nails down his spine.

Next, you trail your lips back down to his chest, pausing to toy briefly with his chest as he lets out a cascade of moans. "[N-name]..."

"Mm?" Your eyes meet his innocently as you lathe your tongue over his nipple, your heart skipping at the lusty, adoring look on his face. You release him from your mouth with a small pop!, tilting your head. "Still good?"

"No, come back," he whines, tugging at your hand.

A giggle escapes you. "Well, since you asked so nicely..."

He shudders as you dive back in, switching to take his other nipple into your mouth. With your closest hand still occupied in holding his, you aren't able to play with the side you'd previously been kissing at, but Izuku doesn't seem to mind as he practically pushes his chest into your face with another gasp.

Soon, all too soon, you continue in your journey to kiss every inch of Izuku's body, palming at his chest and placing one soft kiss against a freckle situated just above his heart. You giggle when you feel his pulse jump beneath your lips before moving on, pressing kisses in a line down the center of his chest until you've found soft skin.

Your free hand finds his belt, toying with the buckle as you get off his lap and rest on the floor in front of him. "Color?"

He eyes you warily, running his thumb across your hand in a way that feels more like he's soothing himself than you. He doesn't answer.

"Izuku, I need to know if this is okay. If you don't answer, I'll stop."

"Y-yellow," he admits meekly. "I-I think it's easier if I don't think about it, but I just... I want this to happen but every second I'm reminded of all the ways this could end in you leaving me, a-and..."

You immediately move your hand away at his admission. "Thank you for telling me. You’re overthinking it, hun. I’m not gonna leave you. Can I help you at all?"

"Distract me?" He pouts at you, leaning down for a kiss. He's even so bold as to slip his tongue into your mouth as you fumble with his belt buckle one-handed, his hand smoothing over your shoulder and down your bare back until you finally manage to get his belt unbuckled and his pants unbuttoned. Once he's unzipped, you smooth your hand over the small of his back, sitting up on your knees to press into the kiss.

Getting him out of his pants with one hand is a challenge, but you make it work, leaving him to toe off his socks and sit there in a loose pair of boxers, looking nervous and innocent and adorable but mostly just scared.

Now that you've got him mostly undressed, you can finally move back to your mission of making him feel utterly loved and working away that fear of his, littering his stomach and sides with tiny pecks and nibbles that have him giggling as he tries (and fails) to squirm away from your onslaught.

"Great job so far," you mumble, nuzzling your nose into his side playfully. "You're really brave, 'Zuku."

He gasps for air between his laughter, scarcely gaining enough time to breathe before you finally relent enough to let him catch his breath. "I love you," he pants out when he finally gets a chance to look down at you. "Thank you."

"I love you more~" you practically sing, punctuating your sentence by blowing a puff of air at his stomach. He squirms, trying not to laugh any more than he already has. You reach up, gently caressing his cheek, and he presses into your touch. "Color?"

Izuku gnaws at his lip. His face is flushed, cheeks flaming red as he pants. After a long moment that you can only imagine is filled with thoughts too fast for anyone else to understand if only they could hear, he speaks. "Green."

A single soft kiss as your hand slips beneath his boxers, giving his ass a teasing squeeze before sliding them off his legs. His tongue slips in your mouth and roams freely as your hand caresses his inner thigh, until all that's left for you to do other than tease him relentlessly is go for broke. You break free from the kiss, watching his face with a smile as you drag a single finger up his slit, finding his clit with ease once you dip between the folds.

No anxiety rears its head now. His jaw goes slack, eyes squeezed tight with pleasure as you slowly rub his slit, a red flush crawling from his cheeks and down his neck as he tries not to moan too loudly. "[n-name]~"

"Hm?" you purr, pausing your finger as it circles his dripping heat teasingly. "Do you need to stop, green bean?"

"N-no!" His eyes snap open, shooting you a pleading, desperate look. "P-please, green, I need more—"

You drop to sit on your knees in front of him, gently spreading his legs to sit between them. "If you're sure, baby. Thank you for asking nicely."

The only sound that escapes him when you finally, finally lean forward and dart your tongue between his folds is a drawn-out moan. Instantly, his free hand finds your head, tangling through your hair and pulling you close. You welcome the momentum, slipping your tongue inside him and using your thumb to rub small circles against his clit. He moans and writhes against your mouth, hips bucking so uncontrollably you're half-tempted to wrap your free arm around his waist and hold him down as you work him up. (If he didn't still have his fingers entwined with yours, you probably would.)

When it gets too much and you're running out of air, you pull back, panting and gazing down at him in appreciation as he whines. "[naaaaame], I was so—"

"Shh," you coo, replacing your tongue with two deft fingers. "I just need a sec to breathe. You're doing so well, Izuku."

His walls pulse around your fingers at your words, green eyes shining with tears that almost make you stop completely if not for the fact that he's still trying to fuck himself on your fingers. You curl them experimentally, brushing against a spongy spot inside him that has him keening and thrashing against you. You re-position clumsily, dragging him into a kiss to muffle his noises as you continue to assault his g-spot. It’d be bad if someone heard the two of you, after all.

It's not long after that that you manage to push him over the edge, his pleasured moans spilling into your mouth as his walls flutter around you. A scarred hand squeezes around yours tightly as he manages to babble your name. You pump your fingers into his dripping cunt just a little bit longer, giving him something to ride out his orgasm on until his moaning turns into whimpers and his hips still. You smile softly when, upon trying to pull away to sit in a less awkward position, he pulls you back to kiss you again

You slowly remove your fingers from him, taking the small window he gives you to sit beside him on the bed and kiss the scar on his hand. His shoulders shudder as you pull him into your lap and a tight hug. "You did so well, Izuku," you coo into his ear.

He sniffles and would have launched himself at you if not for the fact that he was already as close as he could get—his arms lock you into place, snuggling into you tightly as he sobs.

"Is everything okay, Izu? What’s got you upset, green bean?" You carefully wipe your fingers on the sheets before beginning to card your fingers through his hair.

"I-I don't—I don't know! I'm sorry, I—"

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay, Izu. You did so well." You begin to pepper his temples in light kisses. 

"I-I always thought that—that I'd never get any of this. That if I ever—ever found someone like you and loved them and they actually loved me, that they'd never... 'cus I'm... f-for a lot of reasons, they wouldn't ever want to do anything like this with me," he babbles, finding every word more difficult to force out than the last. "They'd... they'd get to this point and then they'd realize that this isn't... that I'm not what they want. What they ever wanted. But... this is real. It is, isn't it?"

"It's real, Izuku."

He breaks at that. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I love you."

You patiently run your fingers through his hair, working through any knots you find and trying not to let yourself cry with him. "It's okay, baby. I love you too."

"I'm sorry," he repeats. Hot tears begin to drop onto your shoulder as he tries to bring himself even closer. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, honey," you insist. "Really."

"I-I never thought I'd be..." He trails off, lets out another sob.

Your heart wrenches, and you smooth your hand over his back. "Loved?"

His silence speaks volumes.

"Oh gosh, Izu." You want to hold him close, to kiss him until he forgets every self-deprecating thought he's ever had. But you're already holding him, already as close as you can get, and genuinely, if you see his face right now, it won't be long before you're also bursting into tears. So you stay there, rubbing circles into his back as you search for the words—any words—to help him understand just how you feel. "You know I love you, right? I said it earlier, and I'll say it as many times as you need me to."

"I love you too," he mumbles, his tears finally beginning to subside. You wriggle your way from him, just enough to press soft kisses to his face.

"I mean it. More than anything, I love you. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for being honest with me, and thank you for confiding in me." With every "thank you" and "I love you", you pause to press another kiss to his face. The wrenching in your chest finally subsides when, after the fourth tiny kiss, he lets out a giggle. "Thank you for existing, baby. I'm so fucking glad I met you, and even if we'd never done this, even if we'd never gotten together, I'd still be glad I met you. You're loved, Izuku, and I'll remind you every day, every hour, if you need me to. As often as it takes for you to never question it again."

"Thank you. Sorry."

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Stop apologizing. We here at [name], Inc. are of the official opinion that Mister Izuku Midoriya has never done anything wrong, ever, and will not be accepting constructive criticism at this time."

Finally, a proper laugh bubbles from his throat, and he finds it in himself to smile at you—complete, adoring, loving. He even lets himself believe it as the two of you lay down cuddled up to each other. 

As long as he's by your side, he thinks he can continue to believe it. 

He's complete. Adored. Loved.

#midoriya izuku x reader smut #izuku midoriya x reader smut #deku x reader smut #trans izuku midoriya #bnha x reader smut #not sfw #my fics

[sango-blep]

I want to add a little something to the art tutorials I've been posting, not that anyone asked for this but it's something I see more and more and it really bothers me.

CHEATING IN ART DOES NOT EXIST

period.

I keep seeing the word cheating often in combination with something like tracing or reference and other things, and I know that some people are trying to counter this by saying it's okay to "cheat". But I'm honestly mad that this word made it into the art community in the first place.

The only thing you shouldn't do is steal/trace someone's content and sell it as your own or use it without permission. That's it.

Using reference is normal and a MUST if you genuinely want to learn and get better.

Art is also not a contest and you're allowed to do art however the fuck you want. Start out with tracing because it helps you learn? Go ahead. Draw comics but use photos or photo edits as backgrounds because you can't be bothered to draw them? Don't let anyone stop you! Copy/paste parts of your own art to reuse them somewhere else? Common practice. That shit is time consuming baby! Once again the only thing you need to watch out for is to not steal/use anyones pictures or content without permission.

(Of course this would be a different story in a educational/professional environment where you often need to do things a certain way)

If you, for example, get an assignment in art class to invent your own figures, meaning to draw them without reference, and you use reference or trace anyway, and then fail your assignment, then that's on you. It has nothing to do with tracing being inherently bad, you just didn't follow your instructions and did it wrong.

Doing art like that doesn't make you a "lesser" or "worse" artist. You are also not obligated to put a disclaimer on your art that says " Attention, these parts are traced and those are the references I used". You are allowed to enjoy art the way you want and then post it online.

I know there are a lot of bullshit voices out there, often from non artist, who are acting very entitled over art. They expect the FREE content they see online to be cut to their needs and want it to be "original" and "real'. Often meaning they'll shit on people who trace/maybe use parts from photos/ or even use reference. Which just makes it clearer how little most people know about what it takes to create art.

Every now and then some soggy walnut feels the need to point out how disney reuses and steals animation clips from previous movies. It's from their own movies...you can't steal from yourself you whole ass clown car.

So, so often I see the argument of" Digital is easier, you can't do this with pen and paper" or " You don't learn from doing this and that".( Once again often on FREE content on the internet...)

I can't count anymore how often I've seen stuff like that in the past month on art videos and other content that are FREE on the internet. It just makes me sad.

The prejudice of artists only ever wanting to "show off" and being "snotty" can be very exhausting. Someone builds their own furniture,or their own house even and people would be impressed by their hard work. But hang up a lot of your own pictures as an artist and you're suddenly just full of yourself.

And if you ever gave artists or content creators a hard time for any of those things, then ask yourself why and how ridiculous you would sound in other real life situations.

Imagine you're meeting up with friends and one of them brings a cake, would you tell them that "they're only here to show off their baking skills and are clearly just full of themselves, clearly everyone can bake like that and they could've done a better job with the frosting and decoration anyway"

No, you would just be happy that there's fucking cake and thank them. ( unless you're some fucked up psycho person)

The topic of references and tracing and similar things comes up every now and again on my blog, and if you're scared to do any of the above , because people might give you a hard time, don't be. I'm angry at the way society and a lot of people treat artists and their art,and how that garbage "purity culture" is starting to seep into everything. I just wanna say you're allowed to be happy and proud of your art, no matter how you created it!

Not everyone who posts art online needs to have the ambition to become the best artist in the world, you're allowed to just do whatever the hell is fun to you.❤️

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#tutorial #art rant #long post #might regret later

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 3 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1 2

A/N: hi! I hope you like this new chapter as it goes deeper on the feels™️ I really wanted to give the characters more background (and a little bit of angst whoops) and finally, there are new names dropping yay! Again, there’s a time skip of two years this time. Enjoy & thanks for reading <3

-3-

When Priyanka turned fifteen, she discovered new things she loved. She loved dying the tips of her hair with bright colors every two weeks and a half, she loved skateboarding, she loved being the center of attention and a little bit of a class-clown at school, she loved hanging out with her group of friends, she loved the phone calls with Lemon to catch up and talk shit about everyone…

“Okay, can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s better.”

Priyanka peeped through the hallway hoping no one would decide to interrupt them. She nervously removed the shiny red nail polish with her teeth as they tried to re-connect, if her mother saw her she would’ve scolded her on the spot. The landline phone was solid red plastic with buttons and wires, it was age-worn but at least it wasn’t like her grandparent’s phone with the rotary dial system or it would take hours to get all those area code numbers correct and get Lemon on the other side.

“Thank God. I’m literally inside the closet just like in The Parent Trap. I told my mom I was calling my grandma because last time our phone bill had several zeroes.”

Priyanka chortled and entangled the curly wire with his fingertips. “Sorry about that… so, you were saying… about the audition?”

“Oh, right! I’m trying to get into this dance academy that’s supposed to be the best of the best and the audition waiting list is a nightmare… but they called me the other day and said I’ll have shot in two weeks.”

“Oh. My. God. Lemon that’s awesome!”

“I know! I feel it, Pri. I know I can do it but… I don’t want to assume anything until I get there. I’m confident in my skills but what if they perceive that confidence as cockiness or something like that. I was talking to Jan the other day and she said-”

“Wait, who’s Jan?” Priyanka frowned before the unfamiliar name.

“Jan. Jan! My friend Jan? We have Biology and Math together, remember?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard her name before.”

“I’m sure I have mentioned her… anyway. Jan is madly talented –like, she can sing- and she auditioned for music school like a year ago and told me that…”

Jan. She hadn’t mentioned a Jan before… it was weird for Priyanka that knew all Lemon’s New Yorker friends’ names and she was pretty sure Lemon remembered all her friends’ names as well.

“… anyway, I’ll keep my head high and hope for the best. I’m training extra hard these days to make it. My muscles are sore and I can’t feel my legs right now but hey, no pain no gain.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thank you.” She paused as if she wanted to say something else, Priyanka could hear her breathing, but then she continued chattering. “Also, my mom got promoted again and now she bought a computer I can e-mail you the day of the audition. But tell me, how are things over there? Did the girls work their differences yet?”

“You know Scarlett, she won’t shut up and-”

“Priyanka, it’s dinner time.” Her mother announced from the kitchen.

She sighed. “Shit. I have to go or my mom is going to cut the phone wires. She says this time is for real.”

“Oh, okay… I’ll call you soon then.”

“Yes, please call me right after the audition or before if you wanna talk… you know. Break a leg or whatever… make sure is figuratively speaking, please.”

She heard Lemon’s giggle on the other line and something inside her went softer.

“I will… and I will be there for Christmas this year, I made my mom promise it.”

“Fingers crossed.” She said before hanging up.

When she looked at herself in the mirror she had a silly grin on her face that couldn’t be erased.

Lemon hadn’t been back in a long year and a half. After spending the first holidays after her parents’ divorce with her dad in Canada, she had to spend the next one with her mom in the Big Apple. Plus, her father got to travel to New York quite often those days and got to see her a lot. She sometimes sent things for Priyanka with him, a nice hoodie, a makeup bag, one of those stupid tourist t-shirts with the Statue of Liberty printed on it, sometimes a pair of dangling earrings or a simple letter and a picture of her. She treasured each of those little trinkets.

Priyanka was saving money from her allowance and was hoping to get a job soon so she could buy a car someday and visit her friend in the big city, they might even go on a road trip over the summer, it was a nice thought to hold onto until they could hang out again.

On the day of Lemon’s audition, Priyanka was restless. She got kicked out of one of her classes because she kept fidgeting, twitching, moving around, and chewing gum. It drove her teachers insane. Scarlett and Kiara mocked her from the window of the classroom and then got a warning as well.

Later that day she cleaned all her room to avoid thinking. She found several pictures of her and Lemon over the years –including that one time they tried Lemon’s mom makeup for the first time, Lemon was missing her two front teeth-, there were some photos from their first days of school and even Lemon at Priyanka’s plays. She was so pissed when she got that old lady role instead of the main character but she had managed to steal the scene anyway.

As the sun was setting, she didn’t know what else to do. She did the dishes without offering resistance and then got into an argument with her little sister who wanted to watch Hannah Montana while Priyanka just wanted to watch the new episode of America’s Next Top Model. She had to admit it though, the intro of Hannah Montana was kind of catchy (something she would never admit to her sister).

It was almost quarter to nine and she still didn’t have any news. There was a two-hour time difference with New York but still… it was gnawing her from the inside.

Right when Tyra was about to reveal which model got to stay for another week, the phone rang in the hallway and she couldn’t jump out of the couch fast enough.

«You have a phone call from-» Press one to accept, yeah, yeah, she knew that.

“Lemon?” She didn’t even wait for a «hello».

“Pri? Is it you?”

The sound of her voice brought her back to life, she could hear the sound of her heart beating again.

“Yes, it’s me! How did it go?”

“Oh my God, Pri… I’m calling you from a payphone in the middle of Times Square, this is insane. The girls lend me some cash to call you.” Priyanka could hear the sound of the traffic and even some giggles coming from outside of the phone.

“And? You’re killing me here, Lemz.” She had her fingers crossed even when she couldn’t see that gesture through the call and was holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder.

“It was so difficult I thought I was never going to learn the steps I’m literally so exhausted right now but…”

But.

“I got it, I got the spot!”

Priyanka started screaming.

“Priyanka!” Her mother shouted.

“Sorry…sorry!” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Lemon was cackling.

“Lemz, I might get in so much trouble for this but… Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.” She sounded truly happy, Priyanka wished she could see her right at that moment. “Jan, can you give me another quarter? Thanks, doll.”

That girl Jan again.

“So what are you girls are up to?”

“We’re going to get some pizza to celebrate. Jan is here as you heard, so are Goona, Rosé, Jackie… They say hi.”

“Tell them I said hi too.”

“She says hi… No, I’m not telling that, shut up…”

“What is it?”

“They are being assholes as usual… Listen, I have to go, I’m running out of coins and I still have to call my mom.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon… I’m so happy for you… Love you.”

“Love you too! See you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait.”

“Bye, Pri.”

She hung up but stood next to the phone for a moment, staring at it.

Just a few more weeks.

Priyanka kept begging her older brother to teach her how to drive. It took a few weeks of insistence until he gave up and the lessons started. They only stopped when the snow got too thick and the roads too slippery to practice. Still, by that time Priyanka was almost an expert. She needed to perfect her parking skills before turning sixteen and that would be it.

She also needed a car but that was the least important part.

“So when’s your girlfriend coming to town?” Scarlett asked.

Priyanka choked on her hot chocolate and coughed a couple of times. “Lemon’s not my girlfriend.”

Kiara rolled her eyes.

“Ah, yes, I can’t wait to finally meet her!” Juice –the latest addition to their group- said.

They were at the coffee shop, outside was freezing cold and the smell of fresh-baked pastries had dragged them inside the warm environment. Scarlett was having a black coffee while Priyanka and Kiara had their respective hot chocolate with marshmallows and Juice ordered a cappuccino with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.

“So?” Scarlett arched a brow.

“Her flight is booked for next week if the snowstorms allow them to fly.”

“I remember you two from primary school; they were joined by the hip, even before you shared diapers or something.” Kiara mocked.

“Oh, that’s right. You were in her classroom in kindergarten back when Ilona prevented everyone from playing with her.”

“That’s because Lemon spilled some paint over Ilona’s drawing… it was kids’ things. We all forgot when some random kid wet his pants or whatever.”

“And when did the crush began?”

Priyanka shot daggers at Scarlett with her eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on her. She’s literally my best friend, you guys are delusional.”

“Sure…” Kiara stirred her chocolate. “But it’s been what? Almost two years since she graced us with her presence?”

“Yeah, her parents didn’t want her to travel alone last time so her father flew to New York.”

“All jokes aside,” Scarlett changed her irksome ‘let’s pick on Priyanka’ tone for a minute. “Are you going to tell her about…?”

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka discovered she didn’t like kissing boys.

It had been at a lame party in a basement, her classmates had invited her and one of them suggested they should play seven minutes in heaven. Priyanka was about to skip it and refill her paper cup with cheap vodka and orange juice when she got dragged by the wrist and pushed into the closet with a guy from the hockey team. She suspected he had a crush on her for the longest time and this was instigated by his friends but the moment the door was locked, she panicked.

Her friends tried to get her out of there but there were a few underdeveloped brains and much muscle blocking the door. So she guessed she was doing it. The guy wasn’t that bad –she liked to believe- he told her they didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to and he was what most girls of the classroom referred to as «handsome». Priyanka shouted she was okay to calm down her friends and figured the best she could do was getting over it once and for all.

It was her first kiss.

The guy had rough lips and a slippery tongue and it was in the middle of all that smooching when his hand went under her lower back that she knew, she wasn’t enjoying it at all. She pushed the guy aside and used the back of her hand to clean her lips, she’d need some mouthwash as well. He asked if everything was okay but she was too condescending and told him that she was feeling dizzy.

The door was unlocked when he asked his friends to do it. Priyanka walked back –ashamed-to her group of friends as Kiara told them they were all disgusting and how stupid the game was. Priyanka called her brother from a phone upstairs and left soon after. For the first time, she was quiet on the way back home.

Later that night when she was laying on her bed in the darkness, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking about how she was supposed to feel kissing that guy -any guy- or thinking about the fact that she wasn’t even remotely attracted to boys but mostly, thinking how she so wished that guy was someone else, how she wished that guy was a girl.

The following week at school the not-so-nice-guy had told everyone that Priyanka was basically a slut and if it wasn’t because she was so wasted, they could’ve gone to third base in that closet that very night. Priyanka wasn’t ashamed anymore, she was angry. Very angry. During lunch, she walked directly towards him and exposed him in front of everyone, not only denying the absurdity of those rumors but also stating that she would never even consider touching his small dick.

After that, Priyanka was done with guys, boys, and men in general.

She had a heart-to-heart conversation with her friends afterward but –to no one’s surprise- she ended up with the least heterosexual and most supportive group of friends in the world.

Still… she hadn’t been able to tell Lemon yet. She had tried but there was something about phone calls that didn’t help at all, she wanted to tell her in person, she wanted to see her face and know that everything was okay. And she planned to do it during her visit.

“I’ll try.” Priyanka stated, hoping the universe cooperated with her.

“Good. So you can make out under the mistletoe next.” There she was again.

“Okay, you two,” She pointed at Scarlett and Kiara. “you have to stop it or I’m going to do you guys dirty and you know I can.”

They started laughing, clearly taking Priyanka’s threaten lightly.

“That’s it! You,” She directed toward Kiara. “I have seen you drooling over Kyne the entire semester.”

Kiara went pale.

“And you two…” She turned back to Scarlett and Juice that were cackling sitting on the couch. “Yes, I’m talking to you, do you really believe I haven’t seen the way you look at each other, those stolen glances, the subtle touches? Please, is this a Jane Austen novel or what? You ain’t that smooth.”

“Hey! I didn’t say anything!” Juice protested.

Scarlett’s mouth turned into a thin line and her ears were suddenly pink colored. She murmured something Priyanka couldn’t catch but rhymed with «witch».

“Sorry girl, I warned you heads would roll and I’m not leaving any survivors if that’s what it takes.”

Scarlett put her hands up as a sign of surrender. “I respect it, you’re a bitch but I respect it.”

So that was the word she used.

Lemon would arrive at any minute now.

Her father was picking her up from the airport, they would have lunch at some fancy restaurant in the city center and then he’d drop Lemon at Priyanka’s house until sunset –that was when she had to leave again to have dinner with her relatives.

Priyanka kept moving her right leg, restless while sitting on the couch, eyes nailed on the window.

“Priyanka, take the trash out, it’s your turn.” Her mother told her casually as she directed upstairs.

“Mom!” She complained. “I’m doing important things.”

“You’re sitting on the couch.”

“My point exactly.”

Her mom gave her the glare. “Trash. Out. Now.”

She grumbled but did as asked.

Priyanka put on an extra thick coat over her jeans and knitted orange sweater, adjusted her wool socks and boots, and adventured to the exterior world of the Canadian winter wonderland. She only had to walk a few steps but she could feel her body freezing with the icy breeze. The snow was blinding white and she could hear the whistle of the wind blowing and the sound of her own teeth chattering.

She didn’t even hear the sound of the car stopping right at the entrance of her house nor the door closing or the steps.

She barely had time to turn around when an identified running person hit her like an asteroid. Lemon was small but she still got the strength to tackle Priyanka down with a hug. She didn’t even notice whether the snow was cold or not.

“Hey!” She was still down on the ground and needed to turn around once Lemon moved. “You’re here…”

The vision was dazzling. Lemon’s face, her eyes, her smile from ear to ear with full teeth showing, her blonde hair falling like a cascade over her rosy cheeks. It was as if she had been taken from an Andersen fairytale or a Tchaikovsky composition, ice queens and fairies fluttered around Priyanka’s head.

“I’m here! Can you believe it?”

She was still pretty much straddled on Priyanka, making the brunette blush and hoping she could blame it on the weather. Finally, Lemon got to stand up and helped her friend to get on her feet again.

Lemon was irretrievably tiny but there was something different about her since the last time they had seen each other. She looked less like the little girl Priyanka remembered and more like a teen pop star of the magazines they used to read with her slightly curled lighter hair, pink glossy lips, longer lashes… She was wearing a yellow sweater and a white puffy jacket with matching fake fur around the neck, corduroy pants, and cream boots. Even her glasses were stylish now.

“Wait, are you taller?” She observed.

“No, you just shrunk in the washing machine.”

Lemon elbowed her and then turned to wave at her dad that was still in the car.

“He told me he saw you in the supermarket the other day and asked what does your mom feed you with so I could get some too.”

Priyanka laughed at loud. “He got you there.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“But enough with my height, let’s go inside, I think I got snow on my socks and I don’t want to catch a cold or wait until another short person attacks me.”

“Hey, you said enough with the height.”

“No, no. I clearly said mine, not yours.”

Lemon rolled her eyes and there it was the old Lemon she knew so well, the exact dose just a little less sugary and a bit sour.

They went to Priyanka’s room, she shared it with her middle sister but she was currently busy practicing at music school with her cello for her end of the year concert, there were a few trophies, certificates, and distinctions on her side of the room meanwhile Priyanka’s was a collage of pictures with the girls, an album cover Avril Lavigne, one large poster she got from the local cinema when Spice World was brought back for a special feature and she forced her friends to watch it for the millionth time, some random doodles she did in class and of course, photos and postcards Lemon had sent to her.

The blonde smiled when she spotted a picture of them from their first day of primary school, their backpacks were bigger than them.

They removed the heavy coats, Priyanka changed her wet socks for new ones and a pair of slippers. Lemon was prying into the mess that was her desk, her fingers roaming through her school books, comic books, magazines, and scattered papers as if she tried to figure out if she still knew the owner of that space in the way she used to.

They sat on Priyanka’s bed on the nothing-like-Priyanka flowery blanket one of her aunts got her for a birthday. Priyanka’s mom dropped by to say hi and left a tray with two smoky cups of tea.

“I love your mom, she read my mind.” Lemon said, wrapping her hands around the warm porcelain.

“She’s being nice only because you’re around.” Priyanka took a sip of her tea. “I wonder if it’s a good time to tell her that I broke one of her flowerpots when I was practicing with the skateboard.”

“You’re the worst.” Lemon giggled.

“Certified. Three years in a row.”

The blonde shook her head. “Does she still make that incredible curry with potatoes?”

“Yeah, once in a while.”

“Oh my God… I tell you I’ve dreamt about it. You know I love Christina to dead but she can’t cook at all.”

Lemon, at some point after the divorce, had stopped addressing her mother as “mom” and now she called her by her first name.

“Do you remember she always made dinner with dry spaghetti and can sauce?”

“You laugh all you want but that’s my comfort food till this day.” Priyanka defended her.

“She doesn’t even cook it anymore, now we buy it all pre-cooked or already cooked. She might even forget how to boil water. Anyway, we’ve tried a thousand restaurants but I swear to you, Pri, no one can cook like your mom.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve missed one of us.”

Lemon threw a pillow at her face.

“Of course I’ve missed you, dumbass.”

They did each other’s nails, Priyanka ended up with a light blue shade Lemon had brought for her and it was allegedly the same color as Tiffany’s, and the blonde insisted she had to draw a white ribbon to make it look like the jewel’s teeny tiny boxes.

From there, Priyanka could see everything. Lemon frowning, concentrated on her task, the way she batted her lashes, her pretty eyes, the little freckles she had over her nose, the shape of her cupid bow turned into an unintentional pout… her lips.

Priyanka gulped and then Lemon caught her staring.

“What is it?” She looked for some hint in Priyanka’s face. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No… I’m just making sure you don’t fuck up the design.”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I’m almost done.”

While Priyanka’s nails got dried, they talked about school, classes they liked and disliked, teachers that they loathed or loved, then about their plans after turning sixteen, Priyanka told her about the driving lessons and Lemon told her she wanted to dress up as Cher Horowitz –of course- for her birthday and by the time Priyanka started with Lemon’s nails, she was reviving her dance audition.

“I tell you, Pri, there was a moment I doubt I’d got in. It was a flash but I felt it in my stomach I thought I was going to puke and mess everything up.”

“Hey, but you didn’t. I’m sure you nailed it.”

The blonde sighed. “Still, New York is like… everything’s so fast and everyone’s competitive to the point where you can’t get distracted or someone else will go after what you have. It’s nice to be here for a change, this is the only place I can really relax. It sucks that I can only stay for a week and five of those seven days I have to visit my dad’s relatives out of town.” She met Priyanka’s eyes. “I wish I could get to spend more time with you, you know?”

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat. At that moment what she suspected but didn’t dare to say at loud became a reality, all those corny songs from the 90’s suddenly made sense, all the movies Hollywood had sold labeled as «romance» acquired a new meaning and she finally understood what «to have butterflies in one’s stomach» really felt like.

She liked Lemon. She liked her best friend…. And she liked her a lot.

That was the reason she hadn’t been able to tell her about what happened earlier that year at the party because it wasn’t just that she wanted to kiss a girl instead of a guy, she wanted to kiss one particular girl and she was right in front of her at that very moment.

They never warned her about it, they never told her that she would live normally until the day she’d realize she could harbor such feeling inside, that one day she’d just… know.

She almost dropped the nail polish bottle over the blanket.

“Oh, careful.” Lemon grabbed it just in time. She looked at her friend with concern in her eyes. “Pri, are you okay? You look… pale.”

“What? Ah, yeah… it’s nothing. I’m recovering from a cold I caught, that’s it…” She shook her head and took a breath of air. “I’m sorry, you were saying…”

“About the dance academy,” Lemon resumed her story. “the girls think I can make it through the next three years, and then I can major in dancing, I might even get a scholarship if I do outstandingly well.”

There was something, a little detail there that wasn’t… right.

“I hope you can visit me soon, you gotta meet the girls; you’re going to love them. Rosé and Jan are also Geminis, I guess that’s why I get along with them so well. Luckily, Jan would be my roommate if she gets her scholarship as well and…”

“Roommate?” Priyanka asked.

“Yeah… for college? We’re thinking about moving in together because rents are expensive even for the smallest studio apartment advertised. It’s a nightmare.”

“But wait… what happened with the plan? Our plan?”

Lemon opened her mouth to reply and then shut it.

“You forgot about it…”

“No! You know I didn’t… but… my options are wider now, I have to think forward and… did you seriously think-?”

“Yes. I did.” Priyanka didn’t even let her finish speaking.

Her soul had been just crushed.

“Pri, that’s not what I mean. We made that promise when we were ten, things have… changed since then.”

“Maybe they have changed for you but I’m still stuck here, I’m still counting on our plans… our promises. I’m still counting on you. The only thing that has changed is you and your pompous New Yorker glamorous lifestyle.”

“Oh, so it was so easy for me, right? It’s not like I had to attend a school where I didn’t know anyone, being the new girl and sitting alone during lunchtime for months while going through my parents’ divorce… I hated it the first months, Priyanka, I really did and I swear that talking to you on the phone and dancing were the only things that kept me alive…” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t until I met my friends that I felt like I could do it… that it wasn’t completely waste of time and that I wasn’t a totally useless person.”

“Lemon… you never said-”

There was a single sparkly tear falling down her cheek.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now. There you have it, my life isn’t a glamorous as you thought, is it?”

“It’s because that’s what you’ve told me! Maybe if you didn’t sugarcoat things I could’ve helped you…”

“And do what? And then what? You’d get tired of me with all those problems and we’d eventually drift apart. I’d become a burden for you.”

“What? Where did you get that from? Let me be your friend, that’s what friends do… they help each other during the rough times too, they tell each other things.”

“Oh, and you surely have told me everything that’s being going on here.”

Priyanka remained silent.

“I still talk with some people from school here and there… why didn’t you tell me about what happened at that party?”

“Lemon, that’s completely different…”

“Is it? Because from my perspective, it looks like we’re hiding things from each other now.”

“And breaking promises as well for what it seems.”

Lemon looked at her, she seemed hurt and it broke Priyanka’s heart to see her like that.

She wanted to reach her and hold her hand, hug her and tell her that everything was alright but at the same time, she was angry. She couldn’t have it both ways. It wasn’t fair.

Priyanka’s mother called them from downstairs; Lemon’s father was there to pick her up.

“I better go.” She grabbed her coat. “I’ll be back in five days if you want… whatever.”

She was gone before Priyanka could say something and frankly, she felt that if she opened her mouth it was going to get worse. It wasn’t until the girl left the house and she heard the car getting lost in the distance that she collapsed on her bed and started crying on the closest pillow she had.

Five days after, it was a New Year already but little had changed since they last met.

Lemon visited Priyanka’s house only to discover she wasn’t there.

“Could you please tell her I came to say goodbye?” She bit her inner cheek to contain a sob.

She had a flight to take back to New York.

Priyanka had taken the family’s car without permission and she had driven for a few hours, making sure there was no chance of their paths crossing. It was petty; she knew she was being childish avoiding her rather than talk things through and she was going to regret it and hate herself later, damn, she was going to get grounded for months but who cared? At that moment, the only thing that was on her mind was that she couldn’t see Lemon.

Not like that.

She did her wrong but she was partly right. Priyanka wasn’t being honest with her and she couldn’t tell her all the truth to restore their friendship.

She couldn’t tell her that she was gay and that she was in love with her because it would change it all.

It would destroy their friendship entirely.

Lemon would never reciprocate those stupid feelings of her.

Maybe if she put enough distance between them, those feelings would simply fade, go away, and right now, New York sounded distant enough.

If it was on her to do the hardest part for the sake of all the years they’ve been together, then she was going to do whatever it’d take.

Tears scorched her eyes.

At the age of fifteen, Priyanka loved her best friend Lemon but she also hated her.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #priyanka #lemon #lemon x priyanka #childhood friends #friends to lovers #lesbian au #timeskips #angst #long-distance friendship #come home to my heart #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

[bittervitter]

ang0mang0′s “copycat” claims

I didn’t want to have to make another post about this, but since people on sonicfan799 / thatAnge / @ang0mang0′s Tumblr profile are getting riled up about this ridiculous drama that should have died ages ago, I figured I’d defend myself. Some people who are trying to support me have been saying incorrect things too, so I also wanted to clear that up. This crap has been going on for months, everyone is sick of it by now. Instead of being brief like I did for other social medias, I’ll be as detailed as possible this time.

[1] “she’s copying/imitating/heavily referencing from my art style!!!”

Like people have said a million times, no I’m not. And nor is anyone else. Just because someone draws the Sonic characters in a similar style to you does not automatically mean they took, copied or “stole” those ideas from you. You don’t own the concept of buff, fluffy bodies or chubby muzzles. COINCIDENCE, as much as you hopelessly deny it, is very much a possible thing- even in crazy situations such as this. There are several other artists who have similar art styles by mere coincidence. IT IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE. As examples, these Instagram artists have similar styles: @ azulytoons and @ indigonite0 / @ magenta_mel and @ zer0finix / @ himemikal and @ natirix. NONE of these artists are “stealing” or referencing from each other- they just have similar art styles, and that is perfectly okay! They draw completely different things with completely different mindsets. The world does not revolve around you, ang0. Not everyone knows who you are, so some people who use the same traits that we do don’t even know we exist.

Also, to anyone unaware, an art STYLE is not merely how one chooses to portray a character. An art STYLE is also what brushes you use, how you sketch, how you line, how you colour, how you shade, how you choose to portray certain objects or ideas- basically your entire fucking understanding of how something’s supposed to look and how you LIKE it to look. It’s not just “chubby faces, poofy curly hair, buff bodies”. It’s everything in a piece AND that.

[2] “she’s tracing my art/ redrawing my ideas!”

Literally no. People have constantly asked you to provide evidence and you refused to. All you did was scream “but it’s so obvious, just look at it!” or “are you dumb? use your eyes!” and several other insults. If you want to prove a point or make someone see something, GIVE. EVIDENCE. The only person who actually provided “proof” was pin_kpeach, your ever so loyal whiteknight, but her “proof” only backfired and proved that the both of you are extremely delusional. In the drawings of ours that she layered over each other, next to NONE of the lines lined up. It looked like a clustered mess of scrap, and the reason for that is because IT WASN’T TRACED. In the one or two drawings where ONE. SINGLE. PIECE. actually lined up was entirely zoomed in to make it seem as though the whole thing was traced. No, honey, that’s not how you provide proof. That’s how you pull a muscle by reaching so desperately to lie about me. The rest of the drawings in those pictures didn’t line up at all, and one- or I believe both- needed to be titled to line them up in the first place. You could say that some people trace things and resize or rotate them, but if I were as dumb as you persist to say, then I wouldn’t have done something like that. Either way, one aspect of a drawing lining up is a common thing for people who have similar styles because- well, I just said it. THEY HAVE SIMILAR STYLES. If they draw something the same way, well fucking duh, it’ll match someone else’s drawing almost exactly sometimes.

[3] “she’s too petty and too much of a liar to credit me! saying the art isn’t hers will hurt her oversized ego!”

Ahaha no. The only one here with an inflated ego is you, ang0. You call me the egotistical one yet you act as though your life is falling apart just because someone else draws like you on the internet. Stop acting like a special snowflake, you are not the only one on this planet with an art style of that nature. I don’t credit you because crediting you makes no damn sense. Why should I credit someone who’s had absolutely no impact on my work whatsoever? What in the hell did you do for my drawings that makes you deserve so much credit? Did you sketch it? No. Did you line it? Nope. Did you colour or shade it? Not a chance. Just because I came up with a design for the characters that happens to look like yours does not mean I owe you jack shit. You cannot. own. a style. Get over it.

[4] “she worsened my depression and is the reason I can’t draw anymore! I have no motivation when there’s some idiot copycat stealing all my art!”

I don’t want to sound like that kind of person, but you worsened your own depression. You painted this false picture in your head and continue to hang onto that belief like your life depends on it. I haven’t done ANYthing to you. You came to ME with these stupid claims back when my art looked LESS like yours, before I even knew who you were. You’re making yourself feel horrible because you, for some paranormal reason, refuse to believe that you’re not the only one with that kind of style. This is why people call you childish, you’re like a whiny baby that can’t accept another child having a toy similar to yours. I can’t even decide whether I should say “grow up” because you’re older than me- not to mention you’re an ADULT.

[5]”she constantly sends her whiteknights to attack me, harass me and send me threatening messages!”

I’ve said several times to my followers NOT to harass you or your followers or anyone against me in this mess at all. I do not send anyone after you. People say things to you out of their own free will and with their own words. I can’t magically know when this happens, why they decide to and I especially can’t control anyone. I’m sorry that my friend Koro sent you all those DMs and horrible messages wishing a lot of very bad things onto you and your family- I asked her several times before and after not to do that, but I didn’t have a clue she did it until after the fact. Either way, don’t go around assuming that I put people up to this or I intentionally ask people to do these things to you. Why in the hell would I do that? What good does that do? All I wanted to do was talk things out but at this point, you don’t even take me seriously, so I can’t even try anymore. The few times we did talk you refuse to see my point of view and just see me as a liar. What the hell am I supposed to do then?

[6]”all vio does is lie, she’s so fake all the time, lying for her petty ego”

I’m not even sure how to respond to this but I thought I might as well bring it up. No matter what I do or say, ang0 sees me as nothing but some retarded liar that can’t help but lie their way around everything, even though I’ve been nothing but genuine all this time. It’s why I can’t even communicate with her anymore, because “shut up, stop lying you copycat” is all I get in response basically.

[7] her insane hypocrisy

Ange and pin_kpeach have said numerous times that I’m rude or insult her, and there have been times where I’ve been mean out of anger, but I know for a fact I apologized for it in DMs. Ange apologized too. I don’t remember ever insulting her after that, but ang0 doesn’t ever stop ridiculing and insulting me with almost every comment she makes on the drama. If she really was sorry, she wouldn’t have done it again, but I guess she said “fuck it” and just continued anyway. Pin_kpeach likes to say I’M the hypocrite for saying Ange is harassing me yet being rude to her a couple times, yet they do they exact same thing, but even worse?? I try my best to be as civil as possible, but ang0 and pink don’t waste a second calling me and my supporters all sorts of colourful names just because they don’t agree with her claims. In fact, here’s a list of every single thing ang0’s ever called me:

retarded, retard, stupid, idiot, dumb, low IQ, mentally ill, crazy, talentless, skill-less, copycat, art thief, (dumb) cow, fuckhole, asshole, bitch, wanna-be artist, unreasonable, clown, fake, liar, hypocrite, delusional, dick, stalker, bittershitter, dumbass, immature

There’s probably more than that, but that’s as much as I can remember. Not hard to forget when she repeats them almost all the time.

[8] gatekeeping ideas

Ange and pink act as if two people drawing a character in the same outfit automatically equals “du bist kopying mein style!!”. I can’t even begin to imagine the mental gymnastics you need to do in order to believe a thought process like that is logical. She thinks that anyone who draws Amy in a dress with a white under-skirt or white ruffles underneath is nothing but a copied idea from her. She thinks that me drawing Amy in a green tank top, blue backwards cap and blue sports shorts is copying her drawing of Amy in a green unidentifiable top (you could only see her back, she didn’t seem to have straps) and blue sports shorts with a slightly different design is automatically copied from her. The poses, shading, angle and idea behind the drawing were COMPLETELY different- but nonono, “this is stolen because the outfit is the same!” They also use the excuse of the whole chubby faces, curly hair, blah blah blah- see point [1] as to why that’s BS.

[9] her perception of my followers/supporters

Aside from Koro, I don’t know if anyone has seriously threatened or harassed her. Her followers comment on my posts, my followers only comment when she brings up the drama or whines about it. She insults my supporters when they don’t agree with her and act like they’re a bunch of immature brats who are wrong while she’s the high and mighty mature one seeing through non-existent lies. I’m used to her making fun of me, but I’m sick and tired of her insulting people who have nothing to do with the drama just because they don’t agree with her. Like, seriously? You call everyone immature and stupid yet you’re the one insulting people non-stop just because they realize how ridiculous and childish you’re acting. That’s why “childish” has become a popular adjective for you, ang0. BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING CHILDISH. CONSTANTLY. You get pissy, insult others and put people down but whine and cry the next minute because you constantly like to play the victim. Speaking of which...

[10] the victim card

I have absolutely no idea what ang0 goes through in real life, but there is no excuse for how she’s behaved during this drama AT ALL. Ange constantly defames her own artwork, calling it shit, calling it every bad name in the book, but doesn’t hesitate for a minute to gatekeep her style as if it was the best thing in the world. She says it’s because she “worked her ass off” and doesn’t want people just stealing her hard work. Okay, but you do realize that other people put just as much work into their own art, no matter if it looks like yours or not, right? She demands that people change their style to stop looking like hers, acting as if that can be done in a matter of minutes, because people having similar styles makes her uncomfortable. Well, surprise motherfucker- welcome to the internet. No one is original and everyone is original at the same time. People are bound to come up with similar ideas and you’re just going to have to deal with it. But despite the similarities, people are still original in their own right. If you believe that people can change a style so easily, why not just change your OWN style? Because you worked your ass off? Well, THEY WORKED THEIR ASS OFF TOO. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s put effort into their craft. Art is hard, and that applies to EVERYONE- even professionals.

You blame me and other “copycats” for all your problems, blaming us for worsening your depression, ruining your passion for art- when you’re the only one who does this to yourself. Yes, there have been genuine art thieves in your life, and people who have stolen your art- but what I’m talking about are the people like me who DON’T steal your art or are merely inspired by you. People who say “you should be happy they’re inspired!” aren’t saying “you should be happy they’re copying!”. They’re saying that you should be glad that your work is so inspiring that people create their own unique ideas based off your own. Inspiration doesn’t require credit unless they’re purposefully taking a massive part of the original. But being inspired by a hair style or even a pose isn’t stealing. It’s inspiration, that’s it. I’m not inspired by you at all, but I can at least appreciate your art- even if you think I’m just being fake.

[11] ang0mang0′s history and why this shit doesn’t even make sense

Ange has said publicly and to me in detail about how she’s been accused of the same “art style theft” in the past. From what I’ve gathered or heard, people used to accuse her of copying a popular artist called myly14 who’s Sonic art is pretty much everywhere. Whether it be in edits, MVs or whatever else.  Looking at her old art when she went under the name sonicfan799, her art does look similar to myly’s, but ang0 insisted that she didn’t copy myly and didn’t even know who she was. She legit said “it’s not my fault my art looks like someone else’s”, so basically- it was coincidence. She said she changed her art style because she “isn’t an asshole and didn’t want to make the other artist uncomfortable”, even though art style theft isn’t a thing and no one needs to be forced out of a style just because someone else already draws that way. I have no idea what myly’s stance on that situation was, but the fact that it happened just proves how stupid her current claims are.

Ange says that her style is “too complex” to be coincidentally similar to someone else’s, even though the fact that it’s happened 30 times (according to her) just proves that no, ang0, no it fucking isn’t. Your style isn’t complicated at all. Detailed sure, but no style is too complicated to be similar to another’s. Being complex doesn’t make something any less likely to be identical to another complex style.If you didn’t copy myly14 in the past, what right do you have to accuse me of the same damn thing? If I really am copying you, then you have to admit to copying myly, because you can’t just lie about your past and then shit on me for doing the same thing. So it’s either you stop this nonsense or you drag this drama down with you to your grave and admit you copied myly14.

Another thing, myly14 didn’t even have a “simple” style. The fact that her art was almost instantly recognizable and popular meant that she had a signature style that stood out. Yes, she used a lot of the original Sonic style’s anatomy, but her stylization of said anatomy, her shading and the way she composed her pieces gave her a signature style. The most stylized thing I could see was how she drew muzzles, and guess who drew muzzles in a similar way as well? You did. People saw how your way of drawing faces and some parts of the body and thought it looked liked myly’s. The similarities in your anatomy, and not your shading or colouring, was what made people think you copied her. That exact same thing is happening between me and you. My shading, colouring and composition is entirely different from yours, but some parts of the anatomy are similar.

If you really didn’t copy myly14, you have absolutely no. fucking. excuse. to accuse me of the EXACT. SAME. SHIT. that happened to you.

You never needed or deserved to be pressured out of your old style just because people thought it looked similar to someone else’s, and that’s why I refuse to change my style now. Because it isn’t. fucking. fair. To ANYONE.

[12] how I feel (this is copied over from my DeviantART)

At this point I've grown used to what she has to say, but it still hurts. She thinks that I'm some kind of cartoon villain maniacally laughing behind a computer screen every time I post something because she's so deep into her belief that I really copy everything she draws and that nothing I've never posted has any true effort put into it. She genuinely believes she owns all my art and that I devote my entire gallery into recreating her image or some crazy shit like that. It sounds really dumb, but from what I've read from her poorly constructed comments and rants, that's basically what she believes.

She thinks I don't care at all about how all this affects her or anyone at all, but I do. It doesn't just hurt me in the sense that she makes me feel awful with all her insults, but I just feel so bad for her. I feel guilty in the sense that I couldn't do anything at all to help her, not that "shes prolly feeling guilty and made that april fools joke to let out some guilt!!". (If you don’t know, on April Fools Day, I changed my Instagram bio to say “clown” and call myself “the ultimate copycat�� as a joke.) That was a really stupid reaction from her by the way... who the hell comes up with that? Now that she's going away for a month, I feel even worse because all I wanted to do was try to make her come to her senses and end this mess. I thought I could talk some sense into her- that didn't work. Her delusions are so strong, she's like a brick wall. I thought I could ignore the drama- that didn't work. She "clowns" and talks about it so annoyingly often. Not to mention people do things on their own to stir shit up. I thought I could support her regardless and maybe try making her feel better about her art- that didn't work. She thinks I'm fake and that everything I say is a lie. Because of me, she probably doesn't believe other people too- and that makes me feel even more terrible.

No matter what I do, I'm automatically the villain and she's the tortured, helpless artist that everyone is against because "everyone is dumb, supporting a copycat" and she's just "used to it, because she's dealt with so much shit already!". It's so ridiculous. If she would just try to actually better herself or the situation, she wouldn't feel so horrible all the time. Like... for god's sake, she relied on a video game to make her happy- that's not healthy, and just like I suspected, it didn't fucking work.

more of how I feel

Because of ang0, I just feel like garbage. My self esteem and confidence in my art was already low. Thanks to her, I don’t feel original (or as original) anymore- and I’m afraid to show many of my new or old ideas because she or her whiteknight pin_kpeach may spring out and say “copycat! stolen! you’re not original!” and a plethora of other insults. I can barely sketch or draw Sonic content without panicking and feeling worthless because all I have is her words and her opinions stuck in my head. She blames me for her demotivation and shit like that when she’s done the same thing to me. She thinks I don’t care about her or her art, when I do, but when I say that, she calls me fake. In reality, ang0 couldn’t give a damn about me and I’m pretty sure she’d be happy if I were dead. She has said before that she doesn’t care if I killed myself soo... there’s that. Anyway lemme not drag my feelings out too long, I just thought I’d say it to anyone willing to listen since her immediate response would’ve been “fake, liar” etc, etc. I really don’t want anyone to feel bad for me or anything like that, I just want people to listen and understand. That’s all.

a final note

I’m really thankful- like, REALLY thankful- for everyone who’s been on my side throughout this. I don’t like picking sides, and I’d hate to make people do so, but there doesn’t seem to be any in between to this at all. It’s either you believe I’m copying her or you don’t.  Most people don’t- thank goodness for that- but some do. And there’s nothing I can do about it. At this point, whatever man.

Please please PLEASE do not harass ang0. Don’t threaten her, don’t insult her, don’t do anything rash or fucking illegal. It’s all fair game if you want to POLITELY SPEAK to her, or try to start a discussion, but please don’t do anything stupid. And especially don’t do things in my name. If you want to debate with me or her, do research first- don’t just jump to conclusions or make assumptions.If you want nothing to do with this drama, then simply don’t say anything- just be aware of what’s going on, that’s all I ask. So nobody gets the wrong idea on either side.

Sorry for this being so long, I think I’m done for now.

Thank you if you read the whole thing.

[9.4.2020]

[devourer--of--books]

Callis was Gavaldon’s first witch gynecologist and here’s why

Okay so, in this post we’ll be discussing topics such as sex, contraception, and some religion in the context of it being used as a mean to control people sexually. 

If you’re younger than 13, honestly, this post isn’t for you. 

If you’re unlucky, like me, and your school didn't give you proper sex ed, I beg you to ask someone about it. Your older sibling, your mom, someone, okay? Ask google. It’s important stuff you need to know.

First of all, for composure’s sake, let’s all pretend I didn’t start thinking of this due to me writing a smut fic. At 4am, on my tablet notes. On my defense, tho, there’s an astonishing lack of E-rated fics on this fandom and someone ought do it, okay? Moving on.

So, where shall we start?

Let’s get context out of the way, welcome to my analyses, the actual headcanons are here, I promise, let me just bore you to death first:

The SGE book series overall is set in fantasy fairytale land (The Endless Woods), with the exception of Gavaldon, aka, the reader village. Due to this, there’s not really a time period liking the SGE world to ours, neither can it be presumed by the world building, as Soman mixes traditional medieval elements  with modern elements, which I know bothers some of you too, it ain’t just me, but nevermind that right now.

The point is, the arguments I’m making on this post are based on aspects mentioned in the books, but I’m also going to draw some information from the real world.

A big chunk of the first two books rely on the world the existence of a patriarchal structure in that world, as do some plot points during the rest of the series, but if I were to dive into that we’d be here all night. Talking about the Endless Woods social structure is very complicated, specially with the ‘no labels in the woods’ stuff combined with the misogyny. It’s messy. 

Thankfully for this post, we’ll only go into Gavaldon, because I feel things there are more… explicit (pun intended).

So here’s what we know of Gavaldon’s social structure pre-book 1:

It’s a decent sized village with no official government. There’s no political figure of power, such as prince or a mayor, as they eventually get in QFG. There also doesn’t seem to be an actual economic class distinction between the people of Gavaldon, other than mentions of beggars (pretty sure it’s just one tho, but I might be wrong). Everyone works and trades amongst themselves, with people having more or less the same things (except for Callis and Agatha, due to them being social outcasts). 

Who has power in Gavaldon?

The Elders Council. They make the laws, they are respected, they have influence, and therefore they have power. These dudes stopped people from selling food to Stefan’s family during book 2, and threatened his new family in front of everybody during book 3. And everyone in Gavaldon loved that man. Why are they powerful tho?

Power is born out of inequality. If you have what we have not, we follow where you lead. Gavaldon has no nobles and no bourgeoisie. Geez, I wonder which powerful class we’re missing.

The clergy.

Personally, I hold no love for the church. I’m an atheist, but, as this post is about SGE and not religion, I’ll try to be as neutral as possible, as the point is not to offend or disrespect anyone. When I mention ‘religion’ or ‘clergy’ from this point on, I’m talking about religion as an Institution. As in the Medieval Catholic Church (which if you don’t agree was at least kind of very evil, I don’t know if I want you reading my posts anyway, so feel free to leave).

Most likely, the members of Elders Council of Galvadon were linked to its Church, whatever religion they may have. I can’t see any reason why they would have so much influence otherwise. Who appoints new men to the positions once one of them dies? I’m gonna guess the remaining members of the Council. 

And no one said anything? For centuries. Okay. Corruption? Never heard of her.

Also, burning unmarried women as a way to solve problems claiming they were witches? Wonder where I’ve seen this before.

The fact they’re men, should get mentioned too, just in case you forgot. I bet there are women just as old and wise, if not wiser than the members of the council. Hm, wow why they’re not part of the council.

This hypothesis ties in with the fact that the education given to the kids is limited to the local school, which, given the lack of government and simplicity of work relations, is probably funded by the clergy. We don’t see any proof of this, but again, if we’re comparing Galvadon to a medieval village, it would make sense.

What is even taught at this school? Math and whatever language they speak there, sure, but like they have little to no history that we know of, geography would be pointless, there are no foreign languages, science who, and with these clowns running the village I’ll bet there is no philosophy or social studies and... Doesn’t matter, let’s not do this right now.

Callis briefly mentioned that all girls in Galvadon must marry before the end of their school education, or they are deemed witches. The Elders Council even chooses the matches, in case those aren’t naturally formed or if they disagree with pre-existing ones. These kids are what,15,16, maybe younger?

(this makes me so mad, you have no idea-)

ANYWAY. They form these child marriages, for... look I’m gonna presume is because of population reposition. They need an average of 2 kids per couple or they’ll have more people dying than people being born. Let’s just presume it’s because of this because if it’s because of some tradition stuff I’ll scream, okay?

Maybe they have a low life expectancy in Gavaldon (which is another evidence for the case that the elders are part of the clergy, they probably don’t work, so they live longer). 

So have them teenage girls poping them babies, I guess.

Also, a miracle they have survived this long, because the genetic pool for Gavaldon must be the worst ever, everyone is related to everyone, ew. At least, in theory, there would be no STIs.

In theory.

Ahem… During the middle ages, all forms of birth control tended to be frowned upon, at least here on the west, including coitus interruptus (aka, pull out method), (tho it depends of who was the pope at the time, some of them were cool with this one if you already had too many kids and was like super poor), because sex was supposed to be about procreating, so a marriage with no kids was ‘pointless’. 

(hear me raging in the background, this context is stressing me out, i just wanna get to the headcanons-)

We can assume this view is probably compatible with the Elders Council mindset, as they are marrying CHILDREN. 

If there were any available contraceptive methods, you can bet they weren’t teaching this stuff at school. They probably have no sex ed, and if they do, it’s going to be just about periods and vague stuff. Gotta love them church schools (I never went to one, officially, but honestly, I live in Brazil, what even is Secular State).

(“Don’t have sex before marriage, you’re gonna get pregnant and die”, - one of the teachers at the Galvadon school at some point, I bet)

Let me also mention that there is an specific Gavaldon law that states that if a girl is pregnant she is going to marry the boy who knocked her up. Which, specially in Vanessa’s case, makes no f-ing sense. Could she prove it was Stefan’s? Did she sent it to a DNA lab? If Stefan was the Elders favorite why would they not take his word?

I digress, let’s say Stefan didn’t deny sleeping with her and only said he was under a spell, which, hm, how dumb do you have to be to do that, it’s lying 101, Stefan c’mon, but okay, you do you.

So they are probably super “moral” in Galvadon. You know, the kind of moral who just swipes stuff under the rug. Like, yeah, Stefan you’re now doomed to marrying Vanessa, but ain’t nobody gonna say a thing if you cheat on her as long as you don’t do it during plain daylight.

(The amount of closeted gays in Gavaldon is probably astronomical, can you imagine?)

And then you have Callis. Whom I think is probably responsible for the introduction of birth control in Gavaldon. We have arrived at the headcanons. Hear me out:

After Stefan saved Callis, she was deemed a witch. She’s a ‘witch’ doctor for the town. Only the most desperate of people seek her out. 

That means she normally wouldn’t get a lot of patients. Like, Idk about you, but Gavaldon doesn’t seem big enough for her to have people looking for her everyday. And she probably had to feed Agatha somehow.

But, while her being a doctor for normal diseases wasn’t really working all that well, everyone knew she had a hand in Vanessa’s miracle child. So ‘infertile’ women and women who had been getting sickly during pregnancies start looking for her, asking for her to help them. 

Callis obviously doesn’t use her magic, but as she can’t say she used magic for Vanessa, she gives them generally good advice about herbs and stuff they can add to their food to make it ‘more likely’, aka stuff that reduces stress, telling them how to eat better, stuff they should avoid, etc. She’s no big expert, but at least in the Endless Woods they had sex ed and she was witch, she just knows stuff.

So she becomes this sort of witch gynecologist for Gavaldon’s desperate women.

It works for a while, but then people eventually share these tips amongst themselves to avoid going to see her. Then, it’s back to slightly starving herself so baby Agatha could eat.

One day, a teenage girl arrives at her doorstep in the middle of the night, trading food for her help. If she could ‘make people more fertile’, she could surely make them miscarriage. Maybe this girl got pregnant by sleeping with someone the elders didn’t aprove for her to marry, maybe it was something else a bit darker, but we won’t talk about how that could be common, given you could literally force someone to marry you if they had your child.

Callis panics, because she wasn't ‘making anyone more fertile’ really, she was making them healthier and therefore more likely to have a healthy kid. If she were to tell her to do the reverse of what she told the others, not only it wouldn’t work, but it would actually harm the girl’s health.

At first she’s like, “I can’t help you…”, but then she hears baby Agatha crying, poor thing, so hungry all the time. So Callis decides, “you know what, might as well”.

There’s probably many potions made with magic one could take to not have a baby in the Woods. Even ones that cause abortions with no side effects or danger to the woman. But there also more natural ways, ones that maybe aren’t 100% effective, but would work, tho it had some side effects.

So Callis, makes her a potion to take. For real life comparisons, let’s say she used Queen Anne’s Lace, which works a bit like Plan B. The girl is thankful, and goes on her way.

Soon enough, everybody knows Callis can do these potions. You have girls sneaking to Graves Hill in the middle of the night to get help in exchange for food and while the elders know something is fishy, they can’t do much anything about it. They ask Callis what is up with that and she’s like ‘nope, just ya know, helping them have babies, plan b who’.

She tries to introduce a variation of the potion, one that acts as birth control, because it would stop people from being irresponsable all the time, but the Plan B one is the one every girl wants, because well, it’s easier. You can be unsafe and then take a potion and it’s fine. Soon, it’s not just girls. There’s full grown women there too, who should really know better.

She is pissed, so she says she won’t make them any more potions unless people stop being so careless.

Someone tries to make a knock-off potion, but it ends tragically, because people don’t really know what Callis puts in it. And well… you know what looks a bit like Queen Anne’s Lace?

F-ing Water Hemlock, that’s what.

After that incident, people listen to Callis when it came to ingesting stuff. And thus, birth control culture is born in Gavaldon. Other people started trying out other things to avoid dealing with Callis, like animal-based condoms, pull-out method and inserting acacia gum into your vagina before you had sex,but she had a good clientele overall.

The Elders? Pissed. But since they couldn’t just prove this was her fault, they just kept on hating on her from a distance.

After Agatha has her first period, Callis sits her down and pretty much gives her the talk. Agatha doesn’t really see a point to it, boys are gross, but she listens nonetheless. 

Callis gives Agatha the best sex ed homeclass ever, you can bet she will teach her correct anatomy, debunk myths the school told her about both periods and her own body and even promised her to teach her how to make the birth control potion once she got older.

Again Agatha doesn’t see a point, but okay.

When Agatha comes home with Tedros, years later tho. Callis is... worried.

She tries to ask Agatha if she’s being safe but her daughter just... stops functioning. Blushing like crazy. 

 (“We just kissed, like, once, mom.”)

That being said… Callis doesn’t live long enough to teach her how to make the potion.

So when Tedros and Agatha’s relationship starts to progress (hm… if you wanna read something about it, maybe wait a couple of days, I might or my might not have a sin fic in the works, it wouldn’t be one of my posts if it had no self-promotion, I’m my own sponsor after all) she’s unsure of who to ask about this.

And it makes her extra sad about her mother’s death, so that’s great.

I honestly don’t know who she would ask. If you have any ideas, please tell me. Because I’m kind of inclined to think that maybe Merlin might have predicted this and handed a recipe to her as a semi-joke, but idk. Maybe Uma?

But yes, Callis was totally Gavaldon’s first witch gynecologist. And after they made Stefan mayor, I want people to remember her for the absolute legend she was, okay?

#school for good and evil series #school for good and evil #sge #Callis of Netherwood #Agatha of Woods Beyond #gavaldon

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 033 [That’s Quick Match]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,040

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“Don’t even hesitate a little, tell me. Don’t be alone and come to me. Don’t move a single inch when you’re alone. From now on, come with me.” C-Clown, “Justice”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Toshi’s brow furrowed with worry. “What are you talking about, young Jen?”

“During my last match, I heard this voice in my head, but it wasn’t the first time. I heard the same voice when I lost control during the USJ incident.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” He demanded, his fists clenching at his sides.

I shrugged, picking at a loose thread on my PE pants. “I thought it was a stress-induced hallucination or some shit. Besides, you’ve been stressed about One for All and Zuku, and Aizawa is still recovering. I didn’t wanna bother either of you.”

“You’re never a burden,” he spoke softly, resting both of his hands on my shoulders. “What did this voice say?”

“At the USJ, he said I’m not strong enough, that he can’t show himself to me yet. ‘Only you have the power to stop Onodero’s return,’ he said.” I scoffed. “Like I’m some goddamn chosen one or some stupid shit. No fucking thank you, this ain’t a Shounen anime, my guy.”

“Onodero?” Toshi hummed, closing his eyes and holding his chin. “That name sounds familiar, but I’m drawing a blank here. Did he say anything else?”

“Said he knows everything about me and that he’s always with me.”

“Creepy,” his body shook, eyes wide.

“You’re fuckin’ telling me.”

He sighed, running his hand over his face. “For now, try not to worry about it too much. Stay focused on the festival and we’ll figure it out after, okay?”

I stood up, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Sure~” I stepped out of the room. I guess it’s a good thing that he didn’t recognize the name, that means whoever this fucker is, he ain’t an immediate threat. Maybe I should go grab my phone and see what Goggle has for me. I turned around, walking in the opposite direction.

“- disgracefully, Shoto.”

I stopped in my tracks before turning the corner. Shoto? Ain’t that Todoroki’s first name? I peered around the corner, seeing the large man with the flaming face.

“If you would simply use the power in your left side, you would have had an overwhelming victory in both of the first rounds. It’s time to stop this childish rebellion of yours. You have a duty to surpass that imbecile, All Might. Do you understand what I’m saying? You’re different from your siblings. You’re my greatest masterpiece.”

“Hah?!” I did my best impression of Bakugo’s bitch face as I rounded the corner, two pairs of eyes snapping to look at me. “First off, flame fuck, All Might ain’t an imbecile. You’re just pissy cause you can’t beat ’em.”

“What did you say?” He growled, standing up straight, the flames around his body flaring.

I smirked. “Did I hurt a nerve, big guy? By the way, I agree with you.” I pointed to Todoroki, who’s eyes widened in surprise. “That kid is a fucking masterpiece, but he ain’t yours by a long shot. That beautiful fucking painting right there belongs to class 1-A, you shouldn’t be so selfish, trying to keep him to yourself. Tsk tsk. That’s not very heroic of you, flame fuck.”

“You insolent, little -” his fists clenched, jaw set in anger.

Todoroki stepped forward, his voice full of anger. “I’ll win this and advance using only mom’s quirk. I won’t give you the pleasure of seeing me use yours.” He grabbed my wrist and tugged me along down the hall.

“Even if that works for you in this tournament, you’ll soon find the limits of that power.” He called after us, his voice condescending.

Before we turned the corner, I flicked him off over my shoulder. “Choke on a dick, flame fuck.”

When we were a safe distance away from the angry man, Todoroki released my wrist, glancing at me with an unreadable expression. “You shouldn’t have done that. Making him your enemy isn’t a smart move, Winchester.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” I threw my arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer as I ruffled his hair. “We in class A look out for our own, bro. I’ll make the whole world my enemy if that’s what it takes to protect you brats.”

He smiled softly, the first genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him. “Thank you.”

I smiled back. “You should get to your match, bro. Don’t let flame fuck get under your skin.”

He nodded, hesitating for a moment before walking away. I could feel the anger still surrounding his body, though, and he was obviously replaying the man’s words in his head. I sighed, rubbing the back of my head.

Damn edgelords, ya’ll gonna be the death of me, man.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I stifled a yawn as I shuffled toward the seating area for class A. Ochaco noticed me approaching and jumped up from her seat beside Izuku, smiling brightly at me. “Jen! You were awesome in your matches!”

I scratched my cheek, plopping down between Bakugo and Kirishima, who were sitting in the row behind her. “Thanks, what I miss?”

She sat back down, angling her body so she didn’t have to turn her head to see me. “Well, after your first match ended, Honenuki took on Awase from class B!”

“It was a pretty one-sided match,” Sparky added with a cocky tone.

“I can hear you, you jerk!” Cried a male voice from the other side of the wall that separated classes A and B. I assumed that was Awase.

“You have no room to talk, Kaminari,” Kyoka commented, her lips twitching up as she crossed her arms. “Your match was over in seconds. That girl from class B took your strongest attack like it was nothing and then pushed you out of bounds while you walked around brain dead.”

His aura quickly darkened as he slid down in his seat, muttering under his breath.

“After that, Iida went up against Hatsume from the support course,” Zuku said. “He won, but…”

“She did him real dirty,” Kiri commented, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced at the navy-haired male, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “She used him to show off her inventions and then gave up.”

“Damn that’s fucking brutal. I like it.” I grinned, making Kiri sweatdrop. “I need to meet this girl. I have a feeling we’d get along great.”

“You know, you can be really sadistic sometimes.”

“I take that as a compliment, Kirishima.”

“After your second match, Iida went against Shiozaki from class B,” Ochaco explained.

“The one that beat Kaminari in seconds,” Kyoka added with a snicker, making the blonde male whine in protest.

Ochaco continued, “He won by pushing her out of bounds, it was over pretty quickly!”

“Hmm, lots of quick matches, huh?”

“Then it was my turn,” Izuku smiled sheepishly, holding up his bandaged hands. “I faced off against Shinso from general studies and, well, you already know how that went.”

“The next battle was a complete massacre!” Kiri leaned forward. “Todoroki froze Sero in a huge chunk of ice! It ended just a few minutes before you arrived.”

Flex Tape sunk down in his seat. “The crowd was chanting for me, telling me not to worry, but it just made me feel worse…”

I hummed again, glancing at the screen that showed the rankings.

Alien is currently squaring off against Aoyama. She was easily dodging his laser, using her acid to skate around the arena before rushing in, covering his belt in acid. His pants fell down, exposing his tighty-whities. Mineta whined something about seeing the wrong kind of underwear before Alien finished off the match with a right hook under his jaw, knocking him unconscious.

Damn girl, you took the match and his dignity.

Midnight raised her arm. “Aoyama is unable to continue! Ashido advances to the next round!”

The next match was between Fumi and Momo. Nothing against her, but I really hope Fumi and Shadow advance, not that I’m biased or anything. My eyes flickered to the screen again. “My next match is against Iida, huh.”

Kiri leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Do you think you can beat him, Winchester?”

Bakugo scoffed. “Of fucking course she can. He’s not as strong as we are!”

He laughed. “I’m up after Tokoyami, so I’m gonna go to the waiting room.”

“Don’t fucking let that extra win,” Bakugo muttered.

“Go kick some ass, Kiri.” I grinned, giving him a thumbs up. I think Toshi is starting to rub off on me. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

He smiled happily, his cheeks dusting as he rubbed the back of his head. “Thanks, guys!”

When Fumi’s match began, he wasted no time in attacking Momo. She made a shield to block the attacks, which Shadow focused on. Every time she tried to make a weapon, Shadow would attack and break her focus before she could. It wasn’t long before she was pushed out of bounds. Momo looked completely crushed by the result, poor thing.

Fumi returned to the seating area, sitting down in front of me. I threw my arms around his neck, his soft feathers brushing my cheek. “You were awesome, Fumi.”

He smiled, patting my arm. “Thank you, Jen-san. You did beautifully, as well.”

“Hey, I did most of the work!” Shadow appeared, his arms crossed and a pout on his face. “Praise me, too, Jen!”

I chuckled, pulling away from Fumi so I could pat Shadow on the head. “You were awesome out there, I’m really proud of you, Shadow.”

His cheeks lit up as he headbutted my hand with his head before throwing his arms around me, nuzzling his beak against my chest. “So warm~”

Fumi sighed deeply, resting his hand over his beak. “Please control yourself, Dark Shadow…”

“You’re just jealous!” Shadow huffed, tightening his grip around me.

Ochaco giggled, her hand over her mouth as her cheeks turned pink. “That is too cute!!”

Shadow smiled at her, moving closer so she could pat him on the head. I chuckled. What a little attention whore.

The battle between Kirishima and Tetsutetsu was… uh… interesting, I guess? While Kiri can harden his skin to stone, Tetsu can harden his to steel. Naturally, the battle ended in a complete draw, leaving both boys unconscious. Midnight said that they’d decide the winner via an arm-wrestling match once both of them recovered. And then finally, it was time for Bakugo to face off against Ochaco.

I followed the blonde down the dark hallway, my hands stuffed into my pockets. “Hey, Bakuhoe.”

“Stop calling me that, dumbass.” He grunted, his own hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re gonna give it everything you got, huh?” I asked, glancing at his back.

“Of fucking course I am! It would be pointless if I didn’t!”

I sighed deeply, throwing my arm around his neck and pulling him to my side. “Just… don’t kill her okay? If you do, you’re gonna have a lynch mob coming after your ass, and I’m gonna be leading those fuckers. Got me?”

He grunted again.

“The twelfth and final battle of the second round of matches – he was kind of a hotshot in middle school –”

Bakugo paused in the doorway. “Oi, dumbass.”

“Yes, Bakuhoe?”

He was silent for a moment, his shoulders tense. I was beginning to wonder if he was gonna say anything when he finally spoke up, his voice so low I almost didn’t hear him. “…call me Katsuki.”

I raised a brow at his back as he stepped out into the light of the arena. Well, that was fucking unexpected. Did hell just freeze over?

“– and just look at that determined face! From the hero course, Katsuki Bakugo! Versus! The one I’m personally rooting for –”

I sweatdropped. Oi, ain’t that cockatiel supposed to be impartial and not take sides? I mean, I get it, it’s Ochaco we’re talking about, but still.

“Also from class 1-A, Ochaco Uraraka! Let the twelfth match… BEGIN!!”

I clapped my hands together, holding them up in front of me and closing my eyes. Oh great and powerful god, Wade Wilson, please don’t let this precious cinnamon roll get hurt too badly! Grant this plea to this unworthy soul and I vow to spread your message of chimichangas and sass to the world!

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

▸ Forward

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

#rise above it #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #anime #writing #creative writing #writeblr #scenario #scenarios #anime scenarios #anime scenario #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #anime fanfic #anime fanfics #first person #series

[detectivejigsawpines]

ORN-Finale (Mend the bond torn by pride)

Repent, sinners!  The end is upon us!

It had been tempting to just come up with a creative lie; but somehow, as they gathered themselves into the truck, they found themselves telling Dan (whose driving had minimally improved when his body was no longer being controlled by a dream demon) more or less what happened.  Surprisingly, he didn’t respond by thinking they were crazy and driving towards the nearest mental hospital. Instead, he frowned thoughtfully and muttered, “I thought that dream ended a little funny,” and pushed his foot further down on the gas pedal. A few minutes later, he added, “Matilda is never gonna believe this.”

Stan assumed that Matilda was the name of the girlfriend Bill had mentioned.  Ford must have thought so too, because he leaned forward, wincing when the action jostled his shoulder.  “Actually, Dan, it would most likely be beneficial for all of us if you refrained from telling her-or anyone else-about this at all.”

Dan’s meaty fingers tightened on the wheel.  “But you said this demon guy possessed me when I was sleeping by persuading me ta make a deal with him or whatever.  Wouldn’t it be better ta tell everyone else so they know not ta do that?”

Ford blinked like a startled owl.  Stan suspected that he hadn’t realized the lumberjack was capable of drawing logical conclusions like that.  “I-well-he did say that he was going to leave for other dimensions.  And we’re planning to destroy the painting detailing how to summon him as soon as our injuries have been seen to, so I doubt he’s going to return here.  Besides, as you stated, the likelihood of anyone believing our story without the firsthand experience you’ve had is…” he struggled for a better word, before ending lamely (probably too tired and weak from blood loss to come up with anything better), “...unlikely.”

After a bit Dan shrugged.  “Whatever ya say, Pines.”

****

Fortunately for all of them, none of their injuries required overnight treatment-just more than a few stitches, some bandages, and some rabies shots, since Stan fabricated an elaborate story about their being attacked by coyotes (which they were forced to fend off with knives, and in the ensuing scuffle Ford had accidentally been stabbed), and the hospital staff were dumb enough to believe it.  After they were cleaned up, Dan produced some spare flannel shirts, suspenders and jeans from his truck (since the contents of their packs had been more or less ripped to shreds by the Kill Billies; only a few things, like Ford’s journal and the truth teeth, had been salvaged), and browbeat both of them into accepting them until they could get different clothes. They were exceptionally large, making them look like some weird clown act from a traveling lumberjack circus, but they were warm and definitely more comfortable than some of the things Stan had been forced to wear in the past, so he wasn’t complaining.

Also fortunately, Ford still had his wallet on him (because of course the dork had brought his wallet on a camping trip), allowing him to pay their hospital bill instead of sneaking out while the nurse’s back was turned like Stan had been prepared to.

With that out of the way, Dan drove them back to Ford’s house to retrieve the acid from the fridge.

“...Do you mind dropping us off at the trail?” Ford asked as they returned to the truck, bearing a few more supplies he thought would be useful (Stan was still trying to get used to the idea of having spare supplies lying around if you lost the things you had), including flashlights this time.  “We can probably make our own way back in the morning, but-”

“No.”

That drew the brothers up short.  As did the way Dan was suddenly glaring at them out the window.

“...I suppose we have taken up a lot of your time,” Ford said at last, sounding a little hurt.  “I’m sorry, I should have realized. It’s all right, we can find our own way-”

“If you think I’m gonna let ya travel back up there, where a pack o’ bloodthirsty hill folk is still roaming around, and get rid of the monster that got inta my dreams and used me as a puppet, all by yourselves, you are totally outta your minds.  I’m comin’ with you.” Dan shoved the back door of the truck open using only one finger.  “Now get in.”

“Dan-”

“It’s not optional, Pines.”

Stan and Ford looked at each other.  Then, with a shrug, Stan approached the door and climbed in.

“Looks like we got no choice.”

Dan grinned through his beard.

“Nope.”

To Stan’s relief, Ford looked less disgruntled about having to work with someone else than he might have expected; he just climbed into the back with Stan.

****

Corduroy’s truck was surprisingly good at off-road terrain, taking them nearly all the way back to the cave before they had to get out and walk the rest of the way.  In case the Kill Billies attacked again, Dan produced three hatchets from his seemingly-bottomless truck bed, giving one to each of them. Stan thought, with a small relieved shiver, that it was a good thing Bill hadn’t found those when he was threatening them; otherwise they would have had more to worry about than Ford getting a stitched-up shoulder.

They made it to the cave safely, however, and under Ford’s instruction they began dissolving the painting and inscription.

“In your FACE!” Dan roared, punching the picture of Bill before it could disappear; his fist combined with the acid created a substantial hole in the cave wall.

Stan and Ford both laughed gleefully, and chanted, “Death to the triangle!  Death to the triangle!” with fists pumped like they were back in high school, until the last traces were gone.

By the time Dan drove them home the sun was starting to peek over the horizon.

“You need ta come in and catch some sleep?” Stan asked as they left the truck.  Then he remembered, guiltily, that this was not his house and he had no right to be inviting guests over.

“Nah, I can make it home okay,” Dan promised.  “I’m a real MAN; I could stay awake for five days straight if I had to!”

“You’re starting to sound like this knucklehead-he tried that once when we were fifteen.  He ended up crashing on the third morning and getting an earful from our ma on taking care of himself.”

Ford elbowed him in the gut-and immediately winced as the action jostled his stitches.

Dan guffawed, which turned into a wide yawn.  “See ya later, dorks.”

Soon enough his taillights were winking out of sight as he rounded a bend.

For a moment the boys just stood there, swaying dazedly in place.  At last, Stan flopped gracelessly onto the couch on the porch, creating his own yawn.

“You aren’t seriously planning on sleeping there, are you?” Ford asked, giving him a disapproving look.

“Watch me.”  Stan stretched his legs out in front of him, burrowing a little into the folds of his giant shirt and turning up the collar.  His eyelids were already starting to get heavy.

Then, to his surprise, Ford collapsed onto the couch next to him.

“Move over.”

Stan gave him a nonplussed look...but scooted enough for him to be comfortable.  A few seconds later Ford’s head had dropped onto his shoulder, and his farthest hand had stretched over, burying itself in the folds of Stan’s sleeve.

The casual act of affection made something swell in Stan’s throat; all he did in return, though, was allow his head to droop onto Ford’s.

Seconds later he was out like a light.

****

When they finally woke up, it was well into the late afternoon, and they both had some interesting sunburns on their faces and part of their necks from where the sun had hit them during its passage.  However, they both felt more than a little refreshed, and when they went inside Ford got started putting together a salve for their burns.

While he did that, Stan opened some of the canned supplies in the cupboard-specifically some corn, green beans and chili-and then on an impulse threw together more pancakes (which ended up with bits of hair in them again-he wondered if that was going to be a recurring thing).  After they finished eating, Ford washed the dishes. It was all quite comfortable-you could almost call it domestic. And Stan wasn’t prepared for it to last much longer.

Sure enough, Ford cleared his throat once the dishes were set out to dry and he’d sat back down with the salve, as they were putting it on each other.  “Stanley, there’s some things we should figure out.”

Even though he hadn’t finished his sentence yet, had barely even started it, Stan’s heart lurched in his chest.  He really, really wasn’t ready to have a serious discussion with his brother, not after they’d already cleared a lot of the air between them and finally returned to some semblance of peace.

“I get it,” he said quickly.

Ford blinked.  “Get what?”

“I-It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting-I won’t stay for too long, I promise.  But if you’d at least let me hang around till your shoulder’s better, that’d probably be better for you-”

“STANLEY!”

Ford had grabbed him by the shoulders and was shaking him again, like when he’d said he deserved to be punished for what he’d screwed up for him.

Stan was very confused.

“I’m not trying to ask you to leave, you knucklehead!  How could you think that, after you literally just saved my life?!”

“...But you said-back there, you said you’d wanted ta have your own life and identity an’ stuff-”

“Oh for g_d’s sake, Stan, that was back then!  I didn’t mean for the rest of our lives!”  He let go of Stan’s shoulders and opted to dig his hands into his hair instead.  Stan hoped he wasn’t about to start tearing it out. “I-I’ve missed you, all right?  I’ve missed having you around, I’ve missed having my best friend in my life, so unless you have a really compelling reason to leave, then will you please stay?!”

“But Dad-”

“Dad can suck a lemon for all I care. I don’t wanna lose you again.”

Stan’s breath hitched, and he was disappointed that he hadn’t been drinking something, because a sentence like that was definitely spit-worthy.

Ford started babbling something about maybe him looking for jobs around town, or going back to school to get his diploma if he wanted, but he wasn’t quite listening.  His hand strayed into his pocket-where it closed around something.

Confused, Stan pulled it out-and his eyes widened.

It was a card.

A two of hearts, to be specific.  One that was completely whole, except for a faint row of stitches that you could see down the middle if you looked closely.

How the heck-

Among other things that were weird about this, he was pretty sure he’d left the pieces of the card in the pocket of his other jeans when he put them in the washing machine; he’d never put them in the ones he’d borrowed from Dan.  And even if he had, how would this have even happened?

On the other hand...this was a town that thrived on weirdness and defying expectations.

And he was so, so tired of being alone and unhappy.

Stan looked up at his brother.

“Okay.  I’ll stick around if you want.  But only cuz you’re beggin’ me. And if you’re left alone you might get in trouble with some other weirdo from another dimension or something.”

Ford let out a relieved-sounding sigh, and rubbed his knuckles against his head affectionately.

“You’re such a martyr to your own generosity, Stanley.”

“Yeah, I know.”

****

Somewhere far away, an old woman gave a satisfied smile.

For now, at least, all was well.

********

...Soooo, how’d I do?

Anyone interested in reading the rest of this AU?  Because it is on AO3, but I could post it here if you begged me.

#flipside AU #Gravity Falls #stan pines #ford pines #dan corduroy #finale #reconciliation #knuckleheads reconnecting

[windless-hurricane]

Pennywise and the Dancing Girl

Chapter 8: Anything and Everything

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

SUMMARY: Emma has been controlled and haunted by the clown of many names for as long as she remembered. However, that begins to change once she meets Henry Bowers, the local asshole.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I’d like to apologize once again for the long time hiatus. I’ve been quite busy lately and I haven’t had time to write. However, I’m trying to finish this series as soon as possible, so I can start writing the sequel series! Also, this chapter was meant to be a lot longer, but it ended up being too long, so I decided to split it into two parts!

WARNINGS: Explicit language and mentions of death.

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

PENNYWISE AND THE DANCING GIRL MASTERLIST

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“Let’s get outta here.”

Within those few moments, everything I felt about him changed. I didn’t know why; but all of a sudden, I felt this urge to run away with him. To do anything and everything with him.

Maybe it was because deep down, I felt like we were running out of time. Even though I had no reason to.

It was barely the beginning of July and we had plenty of time left before school started again. However, it still didn’t stop that feeling. This feeling that something was drawing closer and closer to us and when it finally came, we wouldn’t be able to stop it. Maybe it was my paranoia, my bad luck; but no matter what reason I told myself, I always knew that the true reason was because of Gray.

With him around, I could never be happy. I was even lucky to get this far, but now I knew. He was angry and he wouldn’t let me remain this way for much longer. He was ready to end it all. So, the only thing I could do now was take this opportunity with Henry and not let it waste away. I had to. I had to take his hand.

So, I did and I left him with little time to react as I pulled him out the library.

“Emma,” he called out. “Where are we going?” And I stopped. That was a good question. Where were we going? There were not many places to go to in Derry. It was a small town and we could literally scope out the entirety of it in a day. There was the arcade, the park, the theater, one of the dozen restaurants that we had, and the quarry. We had gone to all of them before, but this would be different. Now, it would just be me and him - sharing and experiencing it together. I did say that I wanted to experience anything and everything with him…didn’t I?

So, I simply turned to him and blatantly said, “Everywhere.” I searched his face for any sign of confirmation, but his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. They just focused on his shoes and I didn’t realize why until I felt the clamminess of his hand.

He was nervous, shy, and the closer I looked, I saw that his cheeks were flushed with color. It was then that I realized that I did this to him. I made him feel this way and it wasn’t until his eyes finally met mine that I also realized, he did the same to me.

We had touched plenty of times before, but never like this. At least not often as this. We had only done this two other times. The first time being the day he came to find me at the park after Patrick’s death. We had been standing close to one another, to the point where I felt his breath hitting my cheek and his nose barely grazing my forehead. He had been holding my hand in his as he gently traced the outline of my rug burn. I remember how my cheeks burned and my heart raced as he did so. And the second being just a bit ago in the library, when he ran his fingers down the scars of my neck. My breath had halted and I actually missed his touch when he pulled away. So, the real question was… Why did I feel this way? Why?

There was only one possible answer; but for some reason, it scared me too much to admit it. It would be too hard to. So, I just pulled my hand away from his and pushed the thought into the back of my mind, choosing to ignore it for now.

“How does that sound,” I asked calmly, and I waited until I got it what I was looking for - a small smirk playing at his lips.

“Where do you wanna go first?”And I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my own lips.

__________________________________________

We both decided to head to the arcade first, already making our way there. We were awfully quiet and I figured it was because we still hadn’t completely made up yet. I know he did admitted to wanting to become a better person, but he also didn’t apologize for being a dick the night of the party… Then again, I also didn’t apologize for punching him in the face. It was now or never, I thought to myself.

I glanced over at him and he looked surprisingly calm. It was very different in comparison to the usual bitch face he wore, and I quickly found myself liking this look a lot more than the other.

“Like what you see,” he questioned bluntly and I immediately turned away, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“No,” I answered. “Why would I?” And he didn’t seem convinced. Hell, I wasn’t even convinced. I knew that was a flat-out lie. Henry was always pretty to look at.

“Oh, cause you weren’t checking me out just right,” he mentioned, raising a brow.

“It’s not that. I just… I just wanted to say sorry for…well, punching you in the face I guess.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Say you’re sorry. I deserved it.”

I looked at him in disbelief as he said that. Did he really just say that he deserved it? The Henry I knew would have never allowed anyone to do that to him, even if he knew he was being a dick. He never liked getting hit, even if it was done jokingly. That’s why it surprised me so much.

“Well, I might have overreacted,” I added.

“Emma.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve never felt bad about anything you’ve done before, so don’t now, okay? I deserved it and you knew I did, that’s why you did it. It’s nothing you should be saying sorry for. Got it?”

I gazed at him for a few moments before nodding, “Yeah.” There was a short pause of silence before he spoke up again.

“That was a pretty hard punch though,” he noted with a slight smirk. “Were you trying to knock me out?”

“No,” I giggled.

“You knocked me straight on my ass.”

“Well, I can do it again. So, don’t test me.”

“You wanna bet?” And at that, the both of us stopped in our tracks and gazed into each other’s eyes.

I thought he was just joking at first, but then I saw the cockiness of his smirk and knew that he was being dead serious. It amused me to say the least.

“And what exactly are we gonna bet,” I asked and he seemed to ponder for a bit before answering.

“Well, you said you wanted to do everything, right? That includes going to the movies then. Loser has to get all the snacks for when we go.”

I hummed softy, “Okay. So, all I have to do is knock you on your ass again to win?”

“Yeah…but in street fighter.” And my face immediately broke into a smile.

“Ohhh, I see what you’re doing,” I cooed. “It’s because you know that I suck at street fighter.”

“It’s not the only thing you suck at,” he teased. “But yeah, it is. So, is it a bet or not?” I bit my lip softly before nodding.

“Alright, Bowers. You’re on.”

__________________________________________

“Okay, you should be Ken,” I told him, gesturing to the screen, but he only gave me a look of disbelief.

“Why,” he questioned and I shrugged.

“Well, you kinda look like him. You both have blonde hair and blue eyes. You both wear red all the time and…you both have muscles. Yours aren’t as big, of course, but they’re still pretty nice.”

“You think my muscles are nice,” he smirked and I immediately froze. Did I really say that? Why the fuck would I say that? That’s not something he should know. The cocky bastard would never let me live that down. I had to think of an excuse quick.

“What? No,” I scoffed. “I just meant that other people might think they’re nice. Not me.”

“Uh huh,” he breathed, leaning in closer to me. “You know if I didn’t know any better, Emma, I’d say that you liked me.” His voice was low and smooth, and he was so impossibly close that could I feel his breath. It was enough to send a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t let it get to me. So, I simply pushed him away and scoffed,

“Don’t flatter yourself. I much rather like Mr. Keene than you.“ He chuckled softly.

“Sure you would,” he remarked, now leaning over the dash of the machine and putting his token in. “I’ll be Ken.” I stared at him for a few moments, before leaning down beside him and pushing my own token into its slot. He glanced over at me and I could tell from the corner of my eye that he was started to stare. So, curiously, I looked back at him. To be honest, I half expected him to look away, but he didn’t. He just held my gaze, before dropping his eyes over the rest of my face and I let him. It wasn’t much longer till his eyes met mine again and he spoke up,

“Two out of three, okay?”

“Okay,” I smirked and his lips mirrored mine in seconds.

“Ready to lose?”

“Are you?” And we both turned back to the screen once we heard the game announcer yell ”Round One!”

I quickly placed my fingers over the buttons of the machine and wrapped my other hand around the joystick, waiting for the announcer to yell again. I have to win, I told myself. I know I suck, but I can’t suck now. Not against Henry. I said I would knock him on his ass, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not going to disappoint him now. Wait, what?

“Fight!” My eyes shot open and I rapidly began to press the buttons, hearing Henry do the same. My Ryu was able to punch his Ken a few times before he overwhelmed me, blocking every one of my punches and punching me whenever I left an opening. He continued to do this until my health bar was nearly empty and I was only able to get one more punch in until he completely destroyed me.

“Shit,” I groaned. What was I thinking? I’ve never won against him before, so what made me think I could do it now? It was only one loss, but it was enough to remind me that I was terrible at Street Fighter. I should just give him my wallet right now.

I sighed softly and glanced over at him. It looked like he was having the time of his fucking life. All cocky with that damn smirk. What I wouldn’t give to wipe it off his damn face? And then, it hit me. I once beat Richie Tozier and he was practically the king of this game and almost everyone knew it. Yet, I beat him. I did have Eddie to cheer me on; but this time, I had to do it for myself. This time my motivation was to wipe that damned smirk off Henry’s face and beat him at his own game.

“There’s still two rounds left, Bowers. Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet,” I warned, but he only laughed it off.

“There’s only two more rounds left, if you can beat me in the next one,” he informed and while he wasn’t wrong, I didn’t plan on losing again.

“I’ll beat you.”

“You’ll beat me, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.” And he laughed again, getting back in position beside me. He was closer than before, his arm and hip pressing against mine, but this time I didn’t care. All I cared about was winning these next two rounds and this damn bet.

“Round two!” I took a deep breath and stared intently at the screen. Focus, Emma. Focus.

“Fight!” This time, instead of rapidly bashing my buttons, I waited for him to attack first. I decided that my best bet was to use the same strategy that I used to beat Richie, so that’s exactly what I did. I kept blocking his punches until I saw an opening and once I did, I punched him as many times as he would allow. Then when he finally went to block, I jumped over him and punched him in the back numerous times. I kept alternating between these three techniques until I finally won.

Feeling a sense of achievement overwhelm me, I cheered a bit too loudly as he simply groaned out in frustration. I thought he would have stopped me to be honest, but he didn’t. He actually waited before asking-

“You done?” He sounded solemn and serious, but it didn’t quite reach his face. It was like he was pretending to be annoyed, but his eyes and lips just wouldn’t cooperate.

It almost seemed like he wanted to smile, but didn’t. He just was holding it back. Then, his eyes were filled with something I’ve never seen before. I couldn’t tell what it was at first, but the deeper I looked, the more I thought I saw…adoration?

I gulped softly at the thought before answering him,

“Nope. Cause I know I’m going to win the next round too.” And I did. It was shocking as hell, but I was damn proud. So much so that I cheered again. Even if it was annoying to the other kids there. At least Henry didn’t find it annoying. __________________________________________

“Why are you grabbing so much shit,” he complained.

“You lost the bet, remember? How many times do I have to remind you,” I remarked smugly before placing another candy bar in his arms.

“Yeah, I remember, but I also remember you sucking too.”

“Yeah, I know. Good thing it wasn’t the same as you remembered,” I chuckled as I spotted a basket beside us, picking it up.

“Don’t go feeling all smug now just because you won one game of Street Fighter.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” I smirked, showing him the basket. “After all, I consider beating you quite the accomplishment. Especially since I get a bunch of free snacks with it.”

He scoffed softly as he placed the snacks into the basket, a small smile plastered on his lips.

“It doesn’t take a lot to impress you, huh?”

“No, I guess not,” I shrugged and he took the basket from me.

“That’s alright,” he confessed. “That’s one of the reasons why I like you anyway.” I gazed up at him with wide eyes, but he simply shot me a smirk before walking away completely. However, that didn’t stop my eyes from following him.

Did he actually mean that or…was he just joking? Either way, I couldn’t help the rate that my heart was beating at or the warmth that was currently flooding my chest.  

This felt…unreal. Everything about this felt unreal. How could I be here? How could I be with Henry? How could I be happy? How could I live? Could I stay like this? Forever? I sure hope I could. I wish I could. Please. I want to stay. I want to stay with Vic and Reggie. I want to stay with Eddie. I want… I want to stay with Henry. Always.

I can’t imagine going on in a world without him. Without his temper. Without his cockiness. Without his sweetness and stubbornness. Without his pain. Without that stupid mullet. Without his beautiful cloudy blue eyes. Without his beautiful…everything. I just can’t. I need him and I always will.

A smile unknowingly made its way onto my face as I watched him put a few more candy bars in the basket. He had no idea that had been watching him and still didn’t know until he looked back in my direction. His smile matched mine as he tilted his head slightly.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” he questioned.

“It’s nothing,” I lied. “You can keep looking.”

With that, I turned away and continued searching through the store. I already picked out my snacks, so I might as well look around as Henry picked out his.

I somehow drifted into the clothes section of the store, the bright colors of shirts and pants catching my eyes. While they were appealing, they’ve never been my style. I always wore denim, denim, and more denim over simple shirts and tainted converse. That was my style, but I stopped once I spotted a dress.

It was different compared to most of the dresses I saw girls at school wear. It wasn’t skanky and didn’t leave little to the imagination. It was quite pretty and modest and while it was off the shoulder, it still had thin straps to hold it up. I could actually imagine myself wearing it. I was starting to like it that much.

“I never pegged you to be the dress type,” a voice interrupted behind me, and I immediately recognized it as Henry.

“I’m not,” I agreed.

“Well, it sure looks like you want it.”

“I don’t,” I lied, still staring at it.

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“Huh,” I asked in surprise.

“You should try it on,” he repeated.

“No, I shouldn’t,” I shook my head. “I’ll just look goofy.”

“You can never look goofy,” he uttered, and it wasn’t until I felt my cheeks burned that I saw his light up as well. “At least to me anyway,” he finished shyly, and his comment was enough to reassure me that with him, I was always safe and would never be judged.

So taking his word for it, I turned around to grab the dress, looking it over once more before surveying the store for a fitting room. Already knowing what I was thinking, Henry decided to give me the answer himself. “There’s one in the back,” he stated and I nodded slightly, before gesturing him to follow me as I started to walk over.

There was only one room with a chair by the wall. It was pretty isolated, but I preferred that. I didn’t really want anyone other than Henry seeing me.

So once we got to the fitting room, I knocked on the door twice just to make sure no one was in there and luckily, there wasn’t.

I glanced back at Henry and he was already sitting on the chair with the basket beside him. He must’ve known I was staring because his eyes met mine almost immediately.

“Don’t make fun of me,” I told him and he breathed out a laugh. I knew he wouldn’t. I just felt like saying it.

“Don’t worry,” he uttered, “I won’t.”

“Alright,” I smirked. “I’m trusting you.” And with that, I stepped foot into the room and locked the door behind me.

There was only a mirror in the room along with my own reflection. Most of the scars that I had acquired over this past month had faded, except for the one of course. My hair was a bit longer and my eyes didn’t look sunken for once. I actually looked…alive and happier. And just the thought of that made me smile a bit more.

Within seconds, I had stripped of my clothes and put them off to the side. And with a few more, I had already stepped into the dress and pulled the straps over my shoulders. Now, I could see more qualities that I didn’t before.

The dress actually stopped mid-calf and hugged my waist quite a bit. However, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. I was also never a fan of plain white, but this along with the red, yellow, and pink flowers was quite nice. I actually wouldn’t mind wearing this out anywhere.

“Are you almost done,” Henry asked from the outside and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. He didn’t sound irritated, but he did have the habit of being impatient.

“Yes, I’m coming out now,” I called out, before grabbing the handle of the door. I took a deep breath and tried my best to ignore the nervousness that was washing over me. There’s no reason to feel nervous, I told myself. It’s just Henry, but then again. It’s the fact that it is Henry that makes me nervous.

I sighed quietly before turning the handle of the door and stepping out.

HENRY’S POINT OF VIEW

I tore the wrapper of the chocolate bar open and snapped a piece off before sticking it in my mouth. I chewed on it silently as I waited for her to come out… but should it really take that long to put on a dress?

“Are you almost done,” I asked and she responded fairly quickly.

“Yes, I’m coming out now,” she called out and she sounded a bit irritated. Did she not like the dress or was she just getting annoyed by me? Knowing her, it was probably the latter.

I smirked to myself as I snapped another piece off. I was this close to putting it into my mouth until I heard the door click. Now, all my attention shifted to the door.

She came out slowly, then all at once. Even if she did decide to come out all fast or all slow, I wouldn’t have been prepared either way. Because I had no idea that I’d be sitting in the presence of someone so perfect.

When did I deserve something like this? What did I do to deserve something like this? What did I do to deserve someone like her coming into my life?

The simple answer was that I didn’t…and that I probably never would. But I wanted to deserve it. I needed to deserve it. I would make sure that I deserved it. That I deserved her. Cause if I couldn’t have her, then what would be the point of anything? To me, a world without her in it wasn’t a world at all. It just wasn’t. Wherever she is, wherever she goes, that’s where I want to be. Always and forever. Because it’s her that I need and always will need.

BACK TO EMMA’S POINT OF VIEW

I stepped out and his eyes immediately widened. I didn’t expect them to, but they did. I also didn’t expect him to completely ignore the piece of chocolate that he had been holding in his hand and drop it to the floor carelessly.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, just staring in silence. I felt compelled to break him out of it, but before I could, he had already decided to speak up,

“Wow.” It was short and simple, but it made me impossibly happy and sent my heart fluttering. “You look…you look beautiful.”

“Do I,” I asked softly, almost not believing him.

“Yeah,” his cheeks started to redden. “I mean-I mean you look good.” And at that, I crossed my arms in displeasure and decided to get him back for changing his answer so quickly.

“Are you blushing, Bowers?”

“What? No,” he denied, rather unconvincingly.

“You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked me.”

“You wish,” he scoffed and that stung. I knew it shouldn’t have. I was equally as petty when he told me the same thing earlier, but then again. Did he really like me as much as I…as much as I liked him? I sure hope he did.

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

END OF CHAPTER 8

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[evangelene]

Short fic game--since y’all said you wanted this

I grabbed this list from @ateellaz who got this from someone else so....give them some support too ^.^

Rules:

Please pick one and a member (have a backup one listed in your ask so that way I can do something else if that number has already been requested--as I would only like to do one fic for each prompt)

Feel free to utilize a number and request a little blurb about an already existing fic of mine--I’d love to revisit some of my most beloved characters!

I really just wanna have some fun with this, so come have fun with me!

1. “You said that I’d get to have you all weekend. Why can’t you just tell them you can’t go?” - “Because it’s my job, and it’s important.” - “And I’m not?”

2. “You should sleep.” - “I’m not human, therefore, I do not require sleep.”

3. “I will protect you with my life.”

4. “Please don’t let me fall.” - “Never.”

5. “You’ll catch me, right?” - “Always.”

6. “You broke me and now you expect me to follow you out onto the battlefield? No. The answer is no.”

7. “I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

8. “You take me instead, do you hear me? Give her back and take me instead.”

9. “Wait, something doesn’t feel right.”

10. “Did you hear that?”

11. “I almost just died and now you’re telling me that I’m a prophet of God? Are you sure you have the right person?”

12. “Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

13. “Look, I know you’re a hardass, but can you play with my hair? It would really help.”

14. “I don’t deserve you.”

15. “Don’t tell me you’re fine, I can see the blood!”

16. “I’m sorry, but…I don’t remember you.”

17. “I wish I’d never met you.” - “No…you don’t mean that.”

18. “You know I hear you talking, but I still don’t have my coffee.”

19. “Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s…it’s the love. It’s too strong, and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried…but I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.”

20. “You would risk the lives of millions for one person? Why?” - “Because it’s not just one life…it’s yours.”

21. “This might sound selfish, but I don’t care about the world - I only care about you!”

22. “Was I just an easy scapegoat to you? Is that it?”

23. “No! Stay away from me! Stay back!”

24. “You must be mistaken - I don’t know who you are.”

25. “I need to know that you can trust me. Please.”

26. “I have these…powers raging around inside me, and I have no clue how to control them.”

27. “I need your help.”

28. “Take one more step and I snap her pretty little neck.”

29. “This is real. You’re real, I’m real. I need you to come back to reality.”

30. “You’re really starting to scare me.”

31. “I’m here for your protection.” - “I don’t need protecting.”

32. “Can someone please explain to me, in small words, why I’m being assigned to this mission?”

33. “Keep your hands over your ears, do you hear me? Even when the noises stop. Don’t listen.”

34. “Close your eyes and keep them closed.”

35. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

36. “I don’t want you here.”

37. “Follow me. It’s okay, just hold my hand.”

38. “Whatever you do, don’t make a sound.”

39. “Stop freaking out, I’ll be right back.”

40. “That’s for me to know and for you to…well, you know how the saying goes.”

41. “I know the signs…you can’t hide from me, (Name).”

42. “It’s okay to break.” - “I’m not going to break.”

43. “Do you believe in soulmates?” - “No.” - “Oh, well that’s a shame because I’m it. I’m your soulmate.”

44. “If you’re watching this then that means I’ve been taken.”

45. “You can hold my hand if you want.”

46. “As long as I get to hold your hand.”

47. “I will always choose you.”

48. “I can braid your hair for you…if you’d like.”

49. “Maybe if you actually stop staring at her and talk to her, you might have a chance.”

50. “Are you drunk?” - “Not nearly enough.”

51. “Are you trying to seduce me?” - “Depends. Are you seducible?”

52. “I thought I almost lost you.”

53. “I’ve been calling you. I left voicemails - where were you?”

54. “You and me against the world, remember?”

55. “I’ll come back for you.”

56. “Do you remember this? It’s the music box you got me when we were twelve.”

57. “Never trust a man that can dance.”

58. “We’re not alone.”

59. “There’s someone in the house.”

60. “Pay attention to me.”

61. “Were you drawing me?”

62. “It’s basic human instinct.”

63. “I’d rather be spitting blood.”

64. “You can sleep now. I’ll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.”

65. “I didn’t tell you that I love you because I wanted to hear it back. I told you because I needed you to know.”

66. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

67. “You can’t have her and it’s killing you inside.”

68. “Let’s carve our initials into the tree.”

69. “When you touch me I feel a little less broken.”

70. “You look so much like her…”

71. “Let me help you.”

72. “Come on. Let’s get you into the bath.”

73. “How many did you take? Open your mouth, I need to see.”

74. “You need medicine.”

75. “I need you to keep pressure on the wound, okay?”

76. “You have to promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.”

77. “You smell nice.”

78. “I could hear you screaming. Are you okay?”

79. “Shh. I heard something.”

80. “Stop staring at me like that.”

81. “I can never forget that taste.”

82. “I was made to destroy. Not to fix, but to break.”

83. “If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.”

84. “I see the spark in you. It’s amazing. Whatever you choose to do with it, you’ll be great.”

85. “If you need an emergency extraction just text SOS and I’ll send armed backup.”

86. “Just a few…more…lines…” - “You’ve been at it all night. Take a break.”

87. “Imitation is the greatest form of flattery.”

88. “I know how this goes. First you buy me a drink, then you tell me how pretty I look, and then, at the end of the night, you ask for my number.”

89. “It’s been a while. You’re not coming back, are you?”

90. “He is very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are.”

91. “I only ever thought there were two kinds of love: The kind you would kill for, and the kind you would die for…but you, my darling, you were the kind of love I would live for.”

92. “Breathe with me, yeah? Come on. Breathe. You got it - there you go.”

93. “Losing you was the most unbearable pain I’ve ever felt.”

94. “I want you. All of you, and not just half-heartedly, wholly. And maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t care.”

95. “Loving you has never been so easy.”

96. “There are shooting stars in your eyes, and every time I look at you, I make a wish to be able to kiss you one last time.”

97. “I’m drunk and I hate everything. Everything except you.”

98. “Can you just…hold me? Just for tonight.”

99. “You have yourself wrapped in thorns, and then you hate everyone who tries to touch you.”

100. “Put the knife down…I’m not going to hurt you.”

101. “(Name), please…you’re scaring me.”

102. “You don’t have to do this.”

103. “At this point, if a clown invited me into the woods, I would just go.”

104. “You loved her…that’s not a weakness, that’s a virtue.”

105. “Love is never kind; love is confusion and pain and abandonment. It’s every single nightmare your mind has been plagued by. And, yes, it can unmake you in ways you never thought were possible, but love - it will remind you what it’s like to be human.”

106. “I’m right here. I’ve been here all along, but you still can’t see me.”

107. “The way he watches you…like he’s ready to take a bullet for you.” - “Is that a bad thing?”

108. “And I love, I love, I love you.”

109. “I don’t think I ever want to be parted from you. I don’t think my heart could take it.”

110. “You’re such a needy baby.”

111. “You have bewitched me; body and soul.”

112. “I worship you.”

113. “I am begging on my knees. Please, don’t do this.”

114. “I don’t think you know how to love.”

115. “It’s torture, being human. Sometimes I wish I could just turn it off. Turn it all off.”

116. “You don’t have to carry the weight of the world all by yourself, you know?”

117. “I’m all yours.” - “Really?”

118. “I know I can be pretty dense, but you’re giving me some…pretty big signals here, and I don’t know if I’m reading them right but…I hope I’m somewhere along the right track.”

119. “Just one moment…” - “What are you doing?” - “Well, I suppose I’m going to kiss you. I hope that’s alright.”

120. “You’re a woman, that alone makes you magic.”

121. “What if we’re the only ones left?”

122. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said.”

123. “You have my word. You have all my words.”

124. “Be nice.” - “Always.”

125. “(Name)?” - “Yeah?” - “I’m gonna kiss you now.” - “Okay.”

126. “Just stay. We can figure everything else out later. Right now, just stay.”

127. “My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep.”

128. “We’re a mess, you and I.”

129. “Stop looking at me with pity in your eyes. Stop it. Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

130. “It won’t be easy, you know…trying to love me.”

131. “You took advantage of me when all I did was help you.”

132. “What good will come from killing them? Revenge and vengeance are very different things, you need to understand that.”

133. “Take my gun, I don’t want to hurt you.” - “You won’t hurt me.” - “Please. Just take it.”

134. “Bah-Humbug.”

135. “You want to run away? On the night of our wedding?”

136. “You’re upset.” - “I’m not.” - “I know that face. That’s your I’m-upset-with-you face. And your eyebrows - they get really expressive when you’re mad.”

137. “Truth is, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

138. “Do you love me? If you do, then you need to do this for me.”

139. “Stop staring.” - “I’m not.” - “Oh, sure you aren’t.”

140. “I have a hole…in my side.” - “I’m sorry, what?” - “I was shot.”

141. “I didn’t want you to panic and now you’re panicking which is making me panic and-”

142. “You should talk to her.” - “And have her hear me? No thank you.”

143. “You really don’t know how to talk to women, do you?”

144. “You already know how this one will end.”

145. “I trust you completely.”

146. “I prefer the view from up there.”

147. “I’m not sure how many coffees it takes to be happy, but so far, it’s not twelve.”

148. “I’m so proud of you.”

149. “Away you three inch fool.”

150. “You will be the end of me.”

151. “I will give you the sun.”

152. “You are safe. I won’t let them hurt you.”

153. “I want you to go upstairs and lock the door, okay? Don’t come out until I tell you to.”

154. “I’m a fallen angel.”

155. “I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived.”

156. “He stares at you every time you look away.”

157. “Shut the hell your mouth.”

158. “Well butter my buns and call me betty crocker.”

159. “Meeting you was the best coincidence life ever gave me.”

160. “You make my heart happy.”

161. “Tell me a lie.” - “I love you.”

162. “They told me you died. And I screamed. I screamed until my lungs hurt too much to continue.”

163. “I’m not sure what peace is supposed to feel like, but I think it may feel a lot like you.”

164. “To keep you safe, I would do anything.”

165. “I deserved a better goodbye.”

166. “I’ll take care of you.” - “It’s rotten work.” - “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

167. “You’ve suffered through enough.”

168. “Don’t get too close to that one, she’ll singe your fingertips and have you on your knees.”

169. “He was my almost.”

170. “Go ahead. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.”

171. “Did you have another blackout?”

172. “I think we’d make this a fair fight if we each had a gun. Don’t you agree, boys?”

173. “You think you gave me some sort of gift? You took a messed up girl and turned her into a broken woman.”

174. “I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

175. “Star gazing. That’s your thing? Seriously?”

176. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?”

177. “You’re a coward, (Name)! You hide away this entirely different part to yourself all because you’re afraid that someone might get close to you! You’re afraid that someone might just care about you more than you think you deserve. That - that isn’t fair.”

178. “Don’t do it. If you attack now, then I won’t be able to keep you safe.”

179. “I can’t believe you’re alive!”

180. “Heaven just couldn’t wait for you…”

181. “Higher, further, faster, baby.”

182. “It’s my fault.”

183. “You got a minute to live, fill it with words.”

184. “We’ll lose.” - “Then we’ll do that together too.”

185. “I don’t want to hurt you.” - “I’d like to see you try.”

186. “I’m eating because I’m very uncomfortable.”

187. “I know I kissed you before, but I didn’t do it right. Can I try again?”

188. “I would die before I let anything happen to you.”

189. “You have my heart. I don’t think I could get it back even if I wanted to.”

190. “I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought.”

191. “You are love in its best form.”

192. “I don’t regret every second with you, I treasure them”

193. “My universe is you.”

194. “Here, let me hold that for you.”

195. “I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack so…when I kissed you…you held your breath.”

196. “Let. Her. Go.”

197. “Did you just call me your boyfriend/girlfriend?”

198. “We were meant for each other.”

199. “Why not be angry? Anger is better than tears, better than grief, better than the guilt.”

200. “He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.”

#short fic #bts request #Evangelene #game

[ladyknightskye]

Colors

Happy Birthday @idontgettechnology! Apologies for this not coming out sooner - by the time my muse decided to cooperate, it was already the beginning of school for me. I hope you still like this!

Title: Colors

Prompt: Birthday Party

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Darcy Lewis, Shieldshock, Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, background relationships

Continuity: Canon-Divergence, Soulmate-AU

Warnings: None

Steven Grant Rogers was born without a Mark, Sigil, Initials, or Pattern. His mother searched over his tiny body, but the smooth pink skin was unmarred by black, blue, or any color in between. She didn’t worry much. He could have a String, a Watch, Empathy, or Writing. Sarah Rogers didn’t worry until her baby boy was ten. He didn’t see a String, his wrist didn’t have numbers counting down, and he scribbled on his arms all the time with no reply. He never felt emotions other than his own, or saw things that weren’t there. In fact, he turned out to be completely color blind. She discovered it when he was four, and couldn’t name colors.

           Instead, he learned colors through his friend Bucky. The young Barnes boy taught him that grass was green, and the gray of grass would be the same gray of almost anything that was green. Blood was red, and the gray of blood was the gray of hearts and roses and sometimes the dresses dames wore out on dates with Bucky. The sky was blue, even if all he ever saw was gray. Steve didn’t let his inability to see colors keep him from becoming an artist. After his mother passed, he was able to help support himself and Bucky by drawing cartoons and advertisements.

           After the serum, the colorblindness didn’t go away, which if Erskine had lived might have stumped him. All of Steve’s other disabilities and health problems had disappeared the moment he stepped out of the pod. He also didn’t magically develop any sort of Soul Bond that he could decipher. He’d thought before that the Powers that Be were trying to tell him something, that he wouldn’t live long enough to have a Soulmate, that one of his illnesses would finally kill him. Now, he had no idea why he didn’t have a Bond.

           When he was flying over the Arctic, he realized it was because he wasn’t going to survive the war.

           When Darcy Elizabeth Lewis was born, she didn’t have a physical Soul Bond. Her mother and father didn’t seem to mind, as their Soul Bond had been a Watch. They would wait and see. So they did. They watched as their sweet baby girl grew into a vibrant child. However, she never mentioned seeing Strings, or numbers on her wrist, or mysterious writing. When they visited Darcy’s pediatrician at her yearly check up, her doctor had frowned. “She’s hitting all her developmental benchmarks,” Dr. Simmons said. “How is she doing at Kindergarten?”

           “Fine,” Mrs. Lewis had replied, “Except, she refuses to learn her colors. The teacher says that she ignores her when she asks for Darcy to name her colors.”

           The doctor nodded before turning to Darcy. He was a kindly old man, his wrinkled face  almost always wreathed in a smile. “Darcy Girl,” he said in his jovial voice, “Why aren’t you naming your colors?”

           The little girl was all of five, and she looked embarrassed. “Don’t wanna.”

           The doctor nodded, and told the little family to give him a moment. He returned to the room holding some flash cards. “Darcy Girl, can you see the numbers?”

           The girl squinted at the cards, but shook her head. He showed her three more, but she couldn’t see any of the numbers. “As I thought,” Dr. Simmons said, “she’s colorblind.”

           Her mother bit her lip. “I was afraid of that. But . . . I was more worried about her not showing a Soul Bond. I know most kids don’t have one until they’re approaching their teens, but . . .”

           Dr. Simmons grinned. “I know, but her not having a Soul Bond yet isn’t uncommon.” Then, he got a gleam in his eye. “And actually . . . She could already have a Soul Bond. It’s incredibly, incredibly rare, and easily mistaken with actual genetic colorblindness, but she may have Soul Colors.”

           Mrs. Lewis frowned. “I’ve never heard of Soul Colors.”            Dr. Simmons chuckled. “As I said they are very rare. Maybe one in a million.”

           “But what is it? How do Soul Colors work?” Mr. Lewis asked.

           “Soul Colors work a bit differently from other Bonds, yes,” Dr. Simmons began, “While Timers and Strings give a psychic guide, and Sigils, Writing, and the others give clues, Soul Colors do nothing to guide Soul Mates together. Your daughter won’t have any prior warning. No communication, no emotions, no guides. Scientists theorize that the reason that it’s so rare is the only clue you get. There’s a very limited pool of candidates.”

           “But how will she know?” Mrs. Lewis pressed.

           “Soulmates with Soul Colors can only perceive color after they meet their Soulmate. Then, based on what research has been done on them, they will be able to see color for the rest of their lives. They have to consummate the Soul Bond, but luckily, they don’t need to actually touch like the others, they only need to lock eyes. In almost all cases they also experience love at first sight. I did a thesis on Soul Colors in college, and ever single case I looked at mentioned the instant emotional bond. Only Empaths show the same proclivity.”

           “So,” Mr. Lewis asked, “how do we know if that’s her Bond, or if she’s truly colorblind?”

           Dr. Simmons sighed. “Well, there’s no real way to be sure. Colorblind people will have another Soul Guide. If she doesn’t develop another Soul Bond, then she has Soul Colors.”

           As the years passed, Darcy never did develop another Bond, so her mother registered her with the Soul Colors Association of America. They found out that there were only about twenty-three people with Soul Colors in the entire country. The Association told the Lewises that they would help Darcy find her Soulmate when she turned eighteen. Sure enough, her first outing with the Association was a week after her eighteenth birthday. However, it was a wash out – while six of the other ten hopefuls found their other halves, she didn’t. She didn’t despair at first because she was one of four who didn’t.

           However, her hope faded as the years went by, and the world continued to be gray.

           When they thawed him out, the last thing on Steve’s mind was Soulmates. In fact, he never gave much thought to them. First it was aliens, then HYDRA, then Bucky, then Ultron . . . He never felt like he had the time to worry, especially since any Soulmate he had was either knocking on death’s door or already there. He watched his friends find theirs though. Natasha and Bucky were bound by a red String only they could see. Tony and Pepper had each other’s Initials emblazoned over their hearts (though their relationship predated Tony being his friend). Wanda and Scott zeroed out their Timers when they met during the nearly disasterous “Civil War” incident, and Hope had found herself and Rhodey with the same Sigil on their left hand. At the moment, he, Sam, and Vision were the only ones without Soulmates.

           And Tony felt like throwing a party.

           It was his birthday, and the birthday boy wanted a huge costume party to celebrate. Reluctantly, Steve dusted off his old dress uniform and styled his hair. He figured that Tony would have to be happy with a 40s soldier as Steve’s costume. He arrived just in time to walk in with Bucky and Natasha, both dressed as werewolves. They had on wolf ears and had painted their faces to make them look furry. Natasha also wore a dark gown, and Bucky was in a tux. “Nice costume,” he said, giving Steve a ‘really?’ look.

           Steve shrugged. “I couldn’t think of anything else to be,” he admitted.

           “Well,” Natasha said, smoothing down one of his sleeves, “you look nice. Maybe we can find you a nice girl to hang out with.”

           “Yeah,” Bucky replied, “didn’t that girl with Thor show up dressed like a 40s dame? Maybe we could make a matched set!”

           Steve sighed, thoroughly fed up with Nat’s matchmaking. He followed them in, and was met with a sea of costumes. There were witches, clowns, and all manner of fictional characters. Tony had dressed up as Sherlock and was presiding over his party from a dais near the DJ. Pepper sat with him, dressed as a Victorian lady. Wanda and Scott waved to the trio from one of the many refreshment tables, dressed as Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Without warning, a large, cartoonish eagle with a stern face stepped in front of them. “Hi guys!”

           Natasha burst into laughter, and Steve and Bucky just stared. The eagle had spoken with Sam’s voice. “Really?” Nat finally sputtered. “Sam the Eagle? You came as a walking pun?”

           The eagle shrugged, and looked over at Steve and Bucky. “Really, you guys haven’t gotten to the Muppets yet? We’ll have to fix that at our next Guys Night.”

           Steve shrugged, looking around. He was thinking of finding a drink and then loitering off to the side of the party for awhile. Music started up, something with an upbeat tempo and Latin rhythms that had Nat dragging Bucky onto the dance floor. Sam waved to Steve as he quickly went to pursue a young woman to dance with. The super soldier wandered a bit, before he saw Thor and his girl standing off to the side, chatting with a senator that looked vaguely familiar. This couple were dressed in matching outfits as well, both of them wearing dark suits and sunglasses. The room was brightly lit, but not enough to need sunglasses. With them was a woman dressed in a style that he was intimately familiar with. Her hair was also caught up into an updo that he remembered. He had no idea what it was called, but he’d seen it on many a woman back in the 40s. She must have been the one Nat and Bucky mentioned earlier. He thought for a moment about going to talk to her, when she turned.

           Their eyes met.

           The world exploded, and Steve nearly stumbled as he took several deep breaths. It felt almost like when he’d first stepped out of Erskine’s pod and had been able to breath properly for the first time in his life. Something clicked in his soul, and he knew. He knew who this woman was.

           Darcy had been listening to Jane natter on for what seemed like hours. She was glad that her friend had managed to find someone to talk to at this party, but Senator Hogan seemed way too interested in Einstein-Rosen Bridges, or maybe he was too interested in Jane. She couldn’t tell what Thor was thinking through the big blond’s sunglasses. She had to admit though, their costumes were a stroke of genius. Being Agent J and Agent T for this shindig showed some balls since half of the newly formed SHIELD had been invited. She turned her back on the Men in Black, and looked about the room.

           That’s when she saw him. She looked at his chest first, impressed as her eyes roamed up to met his. Then, the world exploded, and she felt like she’d just had a strong orgasm, except it shivered out from her heart instead of her lady bits. The man had been handsome in shades of gray, but in color – oh God he was in COLOR! – he was a thing of beauty. She didn’t have the knowledge to name the colors to herself, but she could tell that his eyes were as light as his hair, and his skin must be “white” since hers was the same.

           They stood there like that, staring across at least thirty feet of rented ballroom before she took a tentative step forward. This was her Soulmate, the person who had been destined to give her back her Colors. He’d held them bundled up in his eyes for God knew how long, and now here he was, giving them back to her. She took another step, and he finally moved.

           It was like watching a panther. His big body moved with deadly grace, each movement economical, but effective, and she couldn’t stop the little bit of wondering. What would this man be like in bed? Would he be laser-focused and intense, or playful and lighthearted? Would he vacillate between both? Wait a minute, he was coming over here, what the hell was she going to say to him?!

           “What color are your eyes?” he said to her, solving her dilemma before she could get her brain to wrap around it. In the mere seconds it had taken him to approach, he’d not broken their held gaze.  His voice was low, a honeyed baritone that only served to make Darcy’s lady parts sing in response.

           She swallowed, licking her lips. “My mom told me I have blue eyes.”

           “Blue,” he whispered. “My mother told me my eyes were blue, too.”

           Blue. Darcy knew blue was the color of the ocean and sky, and she suddenly couldn’t wait to find out if his eyes were closer to one or the other. That’s when she remembered her book. She reached out without thinking, grabbing his arm and dragging him along back towards the coat check. He went with her willingly, and neither seemed to be perturbed by the attention they were getting. Darcy spoke to the guy running the check, and he brought her purse. It was a huge messenger style bag, and she rummaged around it to pull out a small cardboard book. She returned her purse to the man at the check in, and then dragged her Soulmate back to an alcove set off from the main ballroom.

           He was looking at her quizzically, until he caught sight of the cover of the book. Then he grinned. She smiled back. “I carry it just in case,” she said with a laugh, “So we won’t be stumbling around in the dark.”

           His laugh was rich and clear, and Darcy realized that she could listen to it for hours on end. She opened up the book titled Colors and pointed to the first page. “Red.”

           Her Soulmate looked up, and pointed to a woman on the dance floor. “Natasha’s hair is red.” He looked back at her. “So is your dress.”

           Darcy beamed at him. “Her hair is beautiful.” She turned the page. “That’s blue. Well, it’s darker than your eyes –“

           “It’s a shade of blue,” he agreed. “Your eyes are closer to it.”

           She turned the page again. “Green.”

           “Grass is green,” he said solemnly, causing Darcy to laugh. “Sorry, it’s what Bucky told me when we were kids. He tried to teach me how to tell apart colors.”

           “He sounds like a stand up friend,” she murmured. “Jane just helps me by telling me what colors clothes are when we go shopping.”

           “Yeah, but we had an easier time of it back in the day. Clothes came in four colors – and all of them matched one another,” her Soulmate snorted.

           “Back in the day? What day? The 90s?” Darcy laughed.

           He just blinked at her. “ . . . Soulmate, do you know who I am?”

           She snorted, and shook her head as she turned to page. “No. Should I?”

           When silence greeted her, Darcy looked back up into the incredulous eyes of both her Soulmate, and Tony Stark who had just waltzed into their little alcove. “Seriously, Lewis, you don’t know who he is?!” Stark barked.

           “Tony, does Pepper know you’ve slipped your leash?” she shot back, and out of the corner of her eye, saw three people approach – one of them the previously mentioned Natasha.

           “You sass Tony?” her Soulmate breathed. “God, I love you.”

           “Movin’ fast aren’t ya, Cap?” Stark asked with a grin.

           “Steve,” the dark haired man that had just walked up asked, “Who’s the dame?”

           “Dame? What am I, a French matron?” Darcy snarked.

           Her Soulmate – Steve – chuckled. “Oh God,” the man said with a look of utter terror, “There are two of them.”

           “It’s ok, Buck, she’s my Soulmate.”

           The four people standing froze, but Darcy focused on the more important part of that last statement. “Buck? As in Bucky? Your friend that tried to teach you colors?”

           “Yeah,” Steve replied, “Bucky here is my oldest friend.”

           “Emphasis on oldest,” Stark said absently.

           That’s when it hit her. Her Soulmate knew Tony Stark. Her Soulmate knew a guy called Bucky, and woman called Natasha. Her Soulmate’s name was Steve. Holy shit.

           Steve saw it, the moment she realized who he was. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a little “o” of surprise. However, her next statement completely took him off guard. “So, who’s the Muppet?”

           “Sam Wilson, nice to meet you.” The eagle held out a wing.

           “. . . Sam the Falcon came as Sam the Eagle?” his Soulmate breathed. “Really?”

           “I know!” Natasha agreed. She held out a fist, and his Soulmate met her halfway.

           “Jesus, there are two of them,” Sam muttered.

           “No, there are two Steves.”

           “Or,” his Soulmate said, her dander firmly up, “There could just be a Steve and a Darcy.”

           “Yeah,” Steve agreed, giving his friends a gimlet stare. He’d even used his Captain voice. “A Steve and Darcy Rogers,” he said, then leaned over to her, “Unless you want to keep your maiden name. I know that’s a thing now.”

           She looked amused, while the rest of their little group looked appalled. Darcy just put her hands to her heart. “Dude, you were my one historical figure crush in high school. Of course I’m taking your name.”

           “I don’t have a ring,” he murmured, enjoying the looks of complete horror on his friends’ faces.

           “It’s okay,” she laughed, “Their faces are red.”

           “I know,” he replied, leaning in closer to her. “It’s fun isn’t it?”

           Darcy threw back her head with laughter. She leaned into him, and he took her book. “So, guys, could you please leave me and my fiancée alone?”

           Tony and Sam were sputtering, Nat had her mouth hanging open, and Bucky was bug-eyed. “You’re serious,” he said incredulously.

           “Yeah, I am,” he said, staring into Darcy’s blue eyes.

           “Can I help pick out the ring?” she asked.

           “Of course.”

           She leaned over, and touched her lips to his. They were soft and warm, but before he could get more than a peck she pulled away. With a growl he glared at his friends who were still standing over them with an array of disbelieving looks – well except for Sam whose eagle mask hid his face.

           “Darcy?” a light feminine voice asked from behind the wall of Avenger.

           They turned, allowing the woman through. She was dressed in a dark suit, and wore sunglasses. “Hey Jane!” Darcy chirped. “This is my Soulmate! I got an Avenger too!”

           The woman’s mouth fell open. “Really?! He gave you colors?! Darcy!” she squealed.

           “Can you also explain to these guys why it’s totes okay that he’s proposing marriage please? Preferably somewhere else so that I can make out with him?” Darcy said with a waved hand at the other four.

           Jane laughed. “Seriously, it’s okay Mr. Stark, Ms. Romanoff, scary guy and eagle guy. Soulmates with Soul Colors are a bit different from other Bonds. They’re like Empaths – they almost always experience love at first sight.”

           “So,” Natasha drawled, “Spontaneous declarations of love and marriage are not uncommon?”

           “Nope,” Jane answered before she began shooing them off. “Now get! Darcy’s been waiting twenty-eight years for this. Scram!”

           Now visibly less nervous, the others left, Sam with a jaunty wave and Bucky with a saucy wink. Jane hugged Darcy before she skipped back to Thor’s side. “Now, soldier boy, we were about to learn about the color orange.”

           “No,” he said, drawing her chin up, “We were about to make out.”

           Her eyes turned a darker shade of blue before her lips crashed onto his.

           Steve didn’t find out until he was trying to hunt her down one day nearly a week after they first met that her last name was Lewis. When he mentioned it, she replied that it didn’t matter because soon her last name was going to be Rogers. He agreed.

           “Hey, if you’re Captain America, can everyone call me Mrs. America?”

           “Darcy.”

           “What? It’s a valid question. Can they call me Mrs. America? You know, like when you’re announced, ‘Captain and Mrs. America.’ It would be so cool.”

           “. . .”

           “I mean, at like, Avengers functions. Otherwise, of course I’m Mrs. Rogers.”

           “I like it better as ‘Captain and Mrs. Rogers.’”

           “Aw.”

           “ . . . But I bet Tony’d get a kick at next year’s birthday party to announce us as Captain and Mrs. America.”

           “I love you!”

           Darcy picked out a solitaire sapphire for her engagement ring set into a silver band. Her dress was red, he wore his dress blues. They were married in a small ceremony only three months after they met, but it would have been sooner if not for her special order wedding dress. Everyone was ordered to wear colorful clothing to the ceremony – Captain and Mrs. (America) Rogers had lived long enough in black and white.

#shieldshock #steve rogers #darcy lewis #soulmate au #gift