#(guys can we get a wellness check i know i’ve had my fair share of spooky bullshit)

[the-magnusinstitute]

YOU DO NOT WANT THE ANSWERS TO YOUR QUESTIONS

And yet, you asked. Maybe the real question was the friends we made along the way. Welcome to the Institute anon.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

pinch me

the wistful wyvern, chapter eight

a/n: i can’t believe this is the last chapter… this whole series is the thing that i’ve let myself go the most crazy with and not held back, so it’s kinda bittersweet when it comes to a close. it’s hard to say goodbye and let go of something you put so much work into, but it’s incredible to finally share the ending with you all so you can enjoy the story in its entirety.

summary: the wrestling was playful as you slowly shuffled further into the sparse cluster of trees. Giggling and shrieking, your back eventually collided with the trunk of a tree and Bucky pinned your hands above your head. 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, forced proximity, violence, injuries, kissing, oral, dirty talk, impact play, size kink, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, protected sex (a fantasy birth control tea commonly used by men), creampie, time jump

word count: 2562

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“You know, it’s still not too late for you to apologise, we can both just go on our separate way,” you shrugged as you dodged the blow thrown by one of the bandits still on his feet before you. 

“Fuck you, you cunt!” he simply spat back. 

Blinking a moment, your head tilted slightly as you breathed out, “alright then,” and then clocked him in the face, making him stumble back, clutching his battered nose. 

One of the outlaws in the grass then lifted himself back up onto his feet behind where you stood and charged at you, raising the dull axe in his grasp up to attack. 

He only managed to nick your arm, and though a small cry did tumble out of your lungs, only a second passed before your fingers wrapped around the hilt of the weapon and you bashed the blunt side back against the bloke, knocking him back onto the ground. 

“You good?” Bucky’s voice found your ears and you glanced over to see him wrestling with his own half of the dubious group.

“Oh yeah,” you smiled and tossed the rusty axe further down into the field that unfolded on the side of the road, “I’m great,” before whacking your elbow over the dirty-mouthed man who stumbled back towards you, blood dribbling from his nose. 

Barely looking at his own opponents, the corners of your partner’s lips curled up as he purred, “that’s my girl.”

You had started by giving the highway robbers a generous out, stating that a fight between you two wardens and the eight of them just wouldn’t be fair. If they’d let one of you sit that one out and only fought either you or Bucky, then perhaps it would have evened the playing field just a bit more.

Yet, they didn’t heed your warnings and ended up losing in the blink of an eye. 

“You guys should really consider a career change,” you said as they all laid dazed and bruised on the ground, “or at the very least get better at this one.” 

As the pair of you went through and kicked their weapons far enough out of their reach, Bucky cast a glance at the boulder of a man curled up on the ground and clutching his arm. 

“Hey buddy,” your fellow warden called, “try and keep that elevated till you see a healer.” 

“Fuck you,” he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“You were the one that fell on it,” his arms raised up before he looked to the other bandits, “guys, can you please make sure he gets that checked out?” and after they grumbled in agreement to help their stubborn friend, Bucky exhaled, “great,” and turned to grasp Echo’s reins, the black stallion only a few paces away from the aftermath, “well, have a nice life!”

“See,” you uttered as the pair of you began to walk off, tugging the horse along, “I told you we shouldn’t have taken this road. I was a criminal, I know what roads are hot for highway robbers.”

“Yeah, well, you were always smarter than me,” he chuckled, then smirked in your direction, “isn’t that what you used to say whenever I’d let you win during training? That I might be stronger, but you’re smarter?”

“You did not let me win,” you gasped, immediately defending your recollection, “I always won fair and square!”

“Hm,” he hummed as he let his gaze dance over the patchy cluster of trees that began to bloom on the right-hand side of the dirt road, “you sure about that?” 

“Oh really?” your head cocked as you smiled back at him, “you wanna fucking go, Barnes?” 

“Why not?” he reached out to tickle your waist, “just had a little warm-up, didn’t we?” 

As Bucky let go of the reins, Echo simply dipped his head down to graze on the long grass below. 

The wrestling was playful as you slowly shuffled further into the sparse cluster of trees. Giggling and shrieking, your back eventually collided with the trunk of a tree and Bucky pinned your hands above your head. 

As you gazed back into his blue stare, the laughter began to fade from you both as another instinct entirely took over. 

Tilting his head, Bucky captured your lips and kissed you fiercely. His fingers, enclosed around your wrists, flexed as your lips parted in a giddy groan and made way for his tongue to slip past and catch a taste of your own. 

When his grip eventually loosened around you, his fingers floated down to weave within your hair and tilt your face to deepen the hungry kiss. 

Then, as your hands had started scraping down the cool iron of the partial chainmail on his torso, the tiny loops grazing your skin gently, he pulled back just enough for you both to catch your breath.

“Drop your drawers, snow,” he commanded playfully, nuzzling his nose softly against your own. 

His head tilted slightly so that his forehead rested against your own, and he shared your breath, as your fingers desperately soared to fulfil his demand. Undoing your pants, you swiftly shimmied them down till they were kicked off into the wild grass. 

After stealing another kiss from you, a smile then spread across your face as you watched Bucky sink down to his knees before you. Planting pecks across your thighs, his gaze flickered up to capture yours as his lips danced up to your right hipbone. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you chuckled and ran a hand through his brown locks. 

“But you sound so pretty when you do,” he smirked. The closer his peppering pecks got to your centre, the sloppier they grew, “just as pretty as when I do this,” he then closed the distance and flicked his tongue teasingly through your folds, dragging a whimper out of your throat. 

Thankfully, he only kept his cruelly light licks to a minimum before he lapped at you properly, swapping your squirming jolts out with a trembling rocking as he savoured your slickness swiftly soaking his short beard. 

Throwing your head back against the tree trunk, your fingers tangled in his hair as he enclosed around your clit. As your gaze fluttered down for his stare to capture yours, a warm rumble vibrated against your pearl as his eyes crinkled up and he smiled against your pussy. 

“O-oh, just like that,” you uttered breathily as your fingers combed through his locks before finding purchase in them, “feels so fucking good.”

His broad palms curled around to your bottom and groped the curve a moment before one of his hands slid down your thigh and plucked it off of the ground, hooking it over his wide shoulder and thereby drawing you that much closer to his greedy tongue. 

Tilting your hips slightly, his sloppy efforts only managed to wander down to your other hole for one kiss before everything unravelled inside of you and you came all over his face. 

Standing back up to his full height, Bucky ducked down to steal a brief kiss from your breathless lips, letting you taste yourself still freshly lingering on his tongue, before fervently spinning you around. 

Bracing against the tree, you peeked over your shoulder as his fingers hastily undid his trousers, his heavy lids staying glued to your backside. 

Silky moans seeped out of the both of you in unison when he slowly buried himself in you. Melting down against your spine a moment, you felt the reassuring weight of his head against your shoulder, panting against your tunic, as his girth settled inside of you, your cunt dripping around him, begging for his movements to pick up.

“Fuck, I love you,” he hissed as he dragged his cock back out, just till the memory of him remained before slamming back inside, harshly enough for you to lose your breath. 

His presence dissipated from your spine as he straightened up. One of his hands trailed down your back, bending you over more, before it settled parallel to the other around your hips. 

Scratching against the dark bark, you whimpered every time his thrusts concluded with a teasing tap against your puffy pearl from his heavy sack. 

“Shit,” he groaned loudly, “your little pussy’s gripping onto me so tight,” in awe, he glanced down at how snugly your cunt was clinging onto his cock, “does it feel good, baby? Does your pussy like being stretched out by me?” he landed a few electric slaps to your ass, “because it sure fucking feels like it… gods, she’s creaming all over me, turning my dick all fucking milky…” 

“I–, I–,” your fluttering moans found their way out your throat as your fingers left the tree and reached back to blindly grab for him.

“What?” he swiftly captured your searching hand in his and slowed his efforts just enough for you to think, “what is it, snow?”

Your brain was all jumbled, so all you managed to mumble was, “…kiss…” 

Curling his burly arms around your form, your brows crinkled up as he then slipped out before guiding you back around to face him. 

Planting his lips to yours in a soft and slow peck, your molten arms slid up to wrap around his neck. 

“Is this better?” his nose ghosted against your own, “huh?”

“Mhm,” you nodded lightly, your features nuzzling against his as you did. 

“You good?” his gentle exhale seeped into your bones. 

A soft smile then tipped up your lips as you uttered, “I’m phenomenal…” 

Mirroring your own grin, he captured your lips once more before he plucked your left leg up off the ground. Sweeping his tip through your glinting folds, he nudged at your clit long enough to make you wiggle in his grasp before he dipped down to your drooling entrance and slowly slid back in. 

“Ah,” you gasped and your head tilted away from his a moment as he split you back open for him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you,” his grip dented your flesh as he settled back into a silky pace, pumping in and out of your creamy cunt, “o-oh, fuck!”

Picking your other leg up, he lifted you into his strong arms and your ankles swiftly hooked around his frame. 

Sloppy symphonies of your skin clapping against each other resonated every time he lifted you off his cock, dragging you over every detail of his fat girth before slamming you back down on it. The sounds echoed throughout the surroundings, dominating your attention rather than the wistful birdsongs that your lustful ears filtered out. 

It didn’t take very long of him carrying you close and fucking you nearly through the tree that scrapped at your spine, before your body went as tight as a bowstring taking aim, and shaky profanities leaked out past your panting breaths as you tumbled over the edge.

Bucky’s mouth was hot on the side of your neck as you clambered around him, your pussy completely choking his throbbing length, and a gravelly groan rumbled against your skin as he swiftly emptied himself in your haven. 

With his load dripping down onto the tall grass as he continued to cradle you in his arms, his softening girth stayed buried in you as you caught your breaths. 

“See?” his heavy exhale fanned across your cheek as the side of his head rested against yours, “told you I used to let you win.”

“Oh,” you playfully chuckled, tilting your chin enough to find his hazy gaze, “you think you won just now?” 

“Yeah, I clearly did.” 

“Did you though,” you cocked your head, “or did I just let you?” 

His eyes then narrowed to a squint as he sucked in a breath, “…rematch,” he declared, “as soon as we get home.”

“Really? You wanna wait–, what, a whole hour?” you guessed the time reminding till you arrived back to Borün. 

“Yes, I wanna wait a whole hour,” a sly smirk crept up on his face as he slowly inched in closer, “one hour and then I finally get to throw you around in my own bed…” 

FIVE YEARS LATER, ON THE THIRTIETH DAY OF SUMMER 863 PR

“Pinch me,” you murmured through your grin as Bucky’s kisses nipped down the column of your neck.     

“What,” he smirked against your skin, clearly assuming you wanted to heat up your impromptu make-out session, “right here?”

Your glance flickered to the rest of the topiary garden, that sprouted in the centre of the great castle that was Fort Borün, and hoped that the pair of you were tucked away well enough in the semi-secluded corner for the other guests, who were up at the palace to round off the annual summer solstice festival, not to notice your intimate activities. 

Not taking his lewd thought to heart, you went on and uttered, “it must be a dream, being here with you and in this beautiful place,” the smile on your lips grew wider as you reflected on the way your life looked now. Growing up you’d never dare to let yourself imagine anything like this, being so safe and at peace, living in a comfortable little cabin by the sea with the love of your life, “you my husband and I your wife…”

Tilting his head back up to be at your level, he caught your glinting eye and reassured you, “you’re not dreaming, snow,” one of his thumbs then swiped a few times at the hold he had on your waist. Leaning back in, his lips then tilted back up into a devilish smirk as he asked, “but can I still pinch you?” 

As his fingers tightened around you and he leaned back down to seize your lips again, a giggle bubbled out of you and your palms swept up to his chest to keep him at bay, “not here!”

And just then, as your husband’s kisses began to bloom across your skin once more, burning so hot you nearly gave in, a pair of tiny footsteps echoed throughout the courtyard. 

“Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!” 

Turning around, both of your glances fell upon the little princess that appeared around the central fountain.

“Cora, isn’t it well past your bedtime?” Bucky cocked his head gently. 

“Papa promised I could dance one last time and you never gave me all of yours!” Cordelia demanded with a raised finger, “you still owe me one.”

Sucking in a breath, he nodded lightly, “I did promise you five, didn’t I?” and his gaze flickered up to spot the king as he caught up to his daughter.

Catching the tail end, Steve’s brows shot up, “she made you agree to five?” 

“Well, I don’t know how to say no to that face,” the fellow warden beside you shrugged and gestured down to the little girl, “I mean look at her!” 

Letting out a soft sigh, the king then tilted his head as a light plea flowed out past his gentle smile, “Bucky, please just dance with my daughter or she won’t let me tuck her into bed.”

Taking a step further away from you, Bucky then smiled down at the princess, “your highness,” and offered her his hand, “shall we?”

Snatching it up, a bright giggle then billowed out of the little girl as she dragged him back inside. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[messedupfan]

Chapter 18

Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.

A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!

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Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen. 

“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life. 

You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest. 

“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out. 

“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room. 

“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.” 

You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.” 

“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much. 

“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus. 

You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile. 

Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?” 

You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”

She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”

You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.” 

Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.” 

Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”

Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!” 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.

Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with. 

When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much. 

She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself. 

As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs. 

She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch? 

She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips. 

You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”

“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says. 

“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?” 

“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that. 

“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles. 

“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?

“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies. 

“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.” 

“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.” 

“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.

Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says. 

“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.” 

“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that. 

“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.” 

Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.” 

Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”

Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.” 

As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early. 

“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.” 

You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off. 

“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa. 

Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.” 

You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.” 

You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?”  You ask softly as her shoulders shake. 

She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says. 

You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication. 

“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time. 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect. 

Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —” 

“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—” 

“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye. 

“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest. 

Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently. 

“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully. 

You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her. 

You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall.  You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–” 

“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes. 

Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it. 

“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away. 

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her. 

“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight. 

“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open. 

You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking. 

You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to. 

Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.

When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp. 

You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep. 

The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart. 

“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile. 

“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing. 

“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.” 

You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling. 

“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.” 

Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.” 

Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!” 

You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.” 

Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.” 

You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh. 

“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork. 

When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name. 

“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car. 

“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her. 

“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet. 

“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.” 

“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.” 

“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist. 

“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?” 

You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”

Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.” 

You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?” 

Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.” 

“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you. 

“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today. 

Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation. 

You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds. 

You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel. 

Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her. 

Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been? 

“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock. 

“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head. 

“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck. 

“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her. 

“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease. 

“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen. 

“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her. 

Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.” 

“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?” 

“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive. 

“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”

“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light. 

When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head. 

“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day. 

Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper. 

Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt —  no, feel. 

Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into  Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down. 

“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see. 

After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands. 

You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words,  “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and,  “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends. 

After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.

Chapter 19

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[gothamite-rambler]

"You like me?" Harley asked happy.

As Harley Quinn and Artemis strolled through the bustling streets, chatting carrying food in bags—their current mission: bringing back lunch for the team.

Artemis: Quick question, Harley—did you get that pale face and wide grin from being pushed into toxic sludge, or is that just your natural look?

Harley: Oh, it’s a lil bit of both! I had fair skin before, turned all porcelain from the toxins, but the smile? Totally natural! Back in school, the kids used to call me “Cheshire,” like the cat. That stopped once I knocked out the main bully. I think the smile suits me now.

Artemis (genuinely): It really does. You remind me of a cute little jester. And I must say, it’s impressive how you can keep that smile for minutes without blinking!

Harley: Aw, thanks!

Artemis: No problem. And your new outfit is working wonders for you too—red jeans and that cute red-and-blue crop top—very nice choice.

Harley glanced down at her outfit, trying jeans for a change instead of her usual shorts. While the fit felt a bit uncomfortable due to chafing, she hadn’t received many compliments yet.

Harley (flustered): Oh, wow, I wasn’t expectin' a compliment. Not sure how to take that.

Artemis (shrugging with a smile): We’re friends, remember? I’m gonna be nice to you.

Harley (surprised): We’re friends?

Artemis (reassuringly): Of course! You’re on the team now. You’re funny, helpful, and a skilled fighter. Jason might have his reservations about you—understandable and Roy gets mad whenever you mention his past drug issues— keep bringing those up! I love when his face turns as red as his hair. But honestly? I really like you. You’ve built a good character with me. Bizarro and I are on your side.

Harley (beaming): The big guy likes me too?

Artemis: Yep. When he says he hates your shoes, he actually loves them. He talks in opposite speak.

Harley bounced on in her sneakers, beaming with joy.

Harley: Awesome! I got 'em at Marshalls!

Artemis: They’re stylish! Perfect for long walks. But don’t stress about Jason. He takes time to warm up to people. Just keep being yourself.

Harley: I’m tryin'! I actually got him a book. Tim sent me his Amazon wish list, and I snagged this one.

With a flourish, Harley pulled out a Jane Austen book titled Northanger Abbey from her pocket.

Harley: It was sold out on Amazon, so I had to check eBay. This thing was pricey! Turns out this Austen lady is quite popular.

Artemis (chuckling): Oh, she definitely is. Let’s take it to him so we can tease him a bit.

Harley: You guys do that too? I love that dynamic!

Artemis: And I really enjoy your energy and how resilient you are when it comes to not giving up on people. Just don’t analyze me too much, alright? I know I’ve got my own issues.

Harley nodded, laughing lightly.

Harley: It’s hard to turn it off sometimes, but I’ll save the analysis for later. Thanks for the compliment, Artemis! Usually, I’m called stubborn and told I can't take no for an answer. Resilience? That’s a new one for me.

Artemis: Well, it was either that or "tenacious." Speaking of which, I’m curious about something else I heard—does Ivy use her powers to—

Harley: Oh, absolutely!

Artemis laughed softly, wrapping an arm around Harley's shoulders as they headed back to the team, their camaraderie growing stronger with each shared moment.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Happy Sunday~ Here are today’s replies.

anxiously-sidequesting asked:

HIIII I haven't said anything in a while but I wanted to say I LOVE YOUR TWST ART (well all of your art actually)!!!!! It's very chef's kiss 🤌🏾 and I hope you have a good day ❤️

Ahh thank you so much!!! <3 This is so sweet of you, I’m very happy to hear that!

Anonymous asked:

🤖👑

Hey! It’s the OruVil shipper! Don’t worry this ask doesn’t need to be answered but I just thought I’d let you know after all these years (I last had a major active blog in around 2011-13 WOW) I’ve actually started one and it’s thanks to you!

I’m over on WrithingDepth shooting out my twst HC’s and little one shots, I’ve yet to drop any OruVil and the blog is pretty new but I’m an older tumblr user with a full time job and nice anon lifestyle so if you guys ever just wanna hmu for a chat me and partner spend a lot of time discussing HCs and world building as well!

I’ll most likely link up the OruVil fic eventually there too.

Have a great day!

After some thinking I decided to actually post this ask for anyone who could be interested to read your work. Anything Ortho-related is so underappreciated, and after the discussion we had via asks a couple of weeks ago, I think it’s only fair to share in this specific case.

I am very excited to hear it whenever people get inspired to create unapologetically self-indulgent content. I honestly think this is one of the most important things one could do creativity-wise, and having people to share this self-indulgence with is truly amazing. Thank you so much for sharing with us <3

furubatsu asked:

I feel like you may have answered this before, but if so I can't find it. Also I'm a sloppy whore for the childhood friends to lovers pipeline SO!

Thoughts on Jack/Vil? While I agree Vil probably lost his virginity to Rook I can see these two being eachothers first Kisses (for "practice" reasons, of course) and maybe even awakenings? I love your analysises so I'm really curious about your take on these two.

HONESTLY? A GOOD PIPELINE!

We do have one post about Jack/Vil, and it’s a hc post, but it’s 8 months old oops. But I still stand by everything I’ve said there lol so you can check it out of you haven’t already.

Jack and Vil could easily be each other’s first crushes, and honestly a handsome polite boy who doesn’t even watch TV is probably the best candidate for a young star that is Vil to have a first attempt at kissing with. It would also be a nice contrast to their other first time, because even though they were on the same page when they were younger, now Vil is the more experienced one of the two, and he’s probably going to enjoy guiding Jack as they do it. Well, if Jack gets overwhelmed, horned up and feral, there won’t be much guidance going on, but in theory lol I feel like Vil is the “oneesan” type partner in this ship.

Anonymous asked:

My only reason to genderbend twst is that it's literally an excuse for Riddle always end up into someone's plsuh chest (same could be said for Idia and all the tiny chest gorlies)

Honestly no other reasons are needed lol this one is good enough. It’s like big boobs just keep following Riddle everywhere, they torment her, they abuse her, they suffocate her… or maybe it’s all in her head? What if she is just way too obsessed with it? And yes, being literally suffocated by Floyd’s chest has absolutely nothing to do with it lol

And Idia constantly gets to feel like a vn protagonist, but the vn itself is very cursed. Where are all the nice ladies, why is everyone so dangerous and scary?? Delete the game and get a refund ASAP-

(Meanwhile Lilia’s out there just… hunting…)

[orionbelt1]

O and L : Drunken Apologies never feel quite as sincere

This is an excerpt from something I’m working on, Enjoy! ( Reblogs are okay , just give credit and I do check tags!)

L has just come back from a date with U, a guy from her French lit class and they have pulled up in front of her house and he cuts the engine

L: I had a lot of fun tonight but mini golf is definitely not one of my strengths .

U: Yeah , no that much was apparent after seeing your work on the eighteenth hole.

L: Hey, that was not my fault!

U: Not your fault, L , your ball ricocheted off of the windmill and almost hit a five year old.

L: well in my defense, the arcade shouldn’t have put that windmill there and that lady shouldn’t have put her kid there so…

U: (laughs) you are unbelievable and I mean that in the best way possible.

L and U share a smile and a small moment of silence before they begin to lean in for a kiss. Before their lips make contact U stops as he sees something in the distance.

U : is there someone sitting on your porch?

L turns around to look in the same direction as U and sighs frustratedly

L: I’m sorry , I gotta go.

U: Who is that?

L: My neighbor , it’s a long story which I will share with you the next time we do this because I had a great time tonight.

U : wait so, Im getting a second date?

L: yes, and a third and a fourth and so on and so forth, if you play your cards right.

L quickly gathers her things, leans over to give U a kiss on the cheek and hurries to leave the car. U pulls off shortly after.

L walks up to O who’s sitting on the porch. He takes a swig of the drink in his hand that appears to be whiskey.

L: O, it’s midnight; what are you doing here?

O: You look nice, where are you coming from? A date?

L: that’s none of your business. Why are you here, I told you to stay away from me , my family and my house. Was I not clear?

O: Who’s the guy?

L: That’s also none of your business.

O: Look, you could either tell me who he is or I can find out on my own…your choice.

L: (sighs) His name is U and he’s in my summer Lit class. He’s been asking me out for a while now and I’ve been putting it off because I was occupied with other … people . Now that I’m not, I finally said yes.

O: Do you like him?

L: And if I do, what does it matter to you?

O: it’s a simple yes or no question, L.

L: Yes, I do and I like him so much that we almost kissed tonight and we’re going on another date soon.

O: Almost, what do you mean almost?

L: I mean I would’ve but I had to come find out why a drunken dumbass was sitting on my porch.

O: Oh yeah (laughs)

O takes another sip of his drink

O: (slurring) It’s not fair , that should be me.

L: And it could’ve been you but you had to go and lie to me like…

O: I didn’t lie to you because I wanted to L! I did because I had to. I couldn’t tell you the whole truth because if I did ; you would want nothing to do with me.

L: And it never crossed your mind that maybe I liked you enough to overlook whatever it was that you thought you couldn’t tell me.

O: I doubt that anything involving me having a secret girlfriend would be something that you would be willing to overlook . No ones that understanding L, not even you.

L: Whatever O , you’re drunk and you’re making excuses for being an ass. Get up , I’m taking you home.

O : you know what , fine L . You think you want to know the truth so bad, well here it goes

O gets up from the porch swing and walks over to L. He grabs her by the arm and begins to drag her to his house.

L: No , O , what are you doing?!

O: Giving you what you want, the truth.

L: No , O, stop…

O continues to drag L to his house and she keeps trying to break free of his grasps. To no avail, she fails because even in his sloppy drunken state he still over powers her.

XOXO

Love ,

Orion’s Belt and Orion Writes ❤️💛❤️💛

[monzamash]

just don’t understand why u keep saying you’ve gone off daniel because of ‘what he said/did earlier in the season’ yet ur perfectly happy to write for lando who also made questionable comments idk just feels hypocritical. what made landos comments ok but daniels so horrid lol it makes no sense 👍 if u want to be a daniel hater just come out and say it instead of being all coy about it and pretending like ur not being weird about it cause u say u won’t write for him and then u update ur layout and put up a picture of it lmao so which is it

i don’t know if this is the same anon that’s been sending me shit every second day for months about this - i’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say it’s not because of the way you’ve typed this out but the message is still the same and this is the last straw.

i don’t hate daniel. if you look at my last post i said that he’s a big part of why i fell in love with f1. he was also the reason i started this blog so just because i’m not writing for him now, doesn’t mean i hate him. it’s not as black and white for me as it seems to be for you.

writing doesn’t define my blog - its something i do when i feel like it and most of the time i’m either chatting with you guys on here or supporting other writers. it was a fun escape but lately it’s been the opposite of that.

people may not like this but in my opinion daniels comments were significantly more damaging than landos vague response to a question that nobody could factually corroborate. i don’t think i’m alone in thinking that. daniel straight up said the one thing i personally hate the most when someone’s defending an abuser which is, “well [insert name] has always been good to me so…” that’s what upset me the most and now i have no desire to write for him. that is simply how i feel and if you don’t agree/understand, it’s all good. try and find other blogs who do share your views. makes life a lot easier.

anyway, did daniels comments make me want to erase every trace of him from my blog? no but i made it clear that i wouldn’t be writing for him for the foreseeable future and if anything changed, i would give people the heads up. what i absolutely won’t be doing is caving in to bullies who hide behind a shadow on the fucking internet who say i that i should delete my blog and myself while i’m at it.

so the context of why i made a header with daniel in it was that i thought including him would allow people the chance to bounce if they don’t want to read any daniel fics or interact with a blog that had a lot of daniel content in the past - people hate him and have made sure to tell me how fucked i am to still have his fics in my masterlist. thats the sort of hate that really gets to me because i’m so proud of some of those fics and spent a lot of time on them. that’s one reason why I won’t ever delete them but it’s also because there are daniel fans out there who hopefully feel like they can still interact with me even if we don’t share the exact same opinion. i don’t want that to change.

another thing to note is that this header was up for like two seconds and the fact you saw it must mean you’re just stalking my page? are you checking in to call me out the second i do something wrong? and you think i’m weird? alright lol

lastly, saying i’m being coy and weird isn’t fair - i’ve been honest about where i stand and even when i’ve been unsure, i was still being upfront and owning the fact that i didn’t know what direction this blog would take after all that. so if what i’ve said in this post or in the past isn’t enough for you, then just leave please. literally leave me alone because i don’t want to do this anymore.

[xxhanachanxx]

🥂🎊💋can we stay up all night~

Fuck a jetlag~

So, um… there’s so much that I have to say regarding what I’ve been through throughout this entire year - as I’ve said before, and making fun art aside, 2022 was a shitshow for me. What was it that made me back out with fulfilling my expectations and projects that never happened this year? I’ve had my fair share of speaking about focusing on my college classes and personal life, and trying to do better before, and I know you guys have been appreciative of me in putting that first before art, but where I had to step away from everything and being myself for a bit was taking and retaking intermediate calculus to the point I’ve never felt the same ever since the first attempt in taking it and failed. (Instead of having the post filled with a lot of text and overwhelm everybody, I encourage you to click on the “Keep reading” tab - tl;dr: there’s a happy ending, I’m my happy and normal self again (...at least for now-), and I did this drawing for the sake of my self-indulgence~)

Let the tangent begin - at that point during the pandemic and with taking online classes before going back on campus in late 2021, I was an absolute perfectionist in making sure that I can be able to pass my classes - taking a calculus I class back in spring 2021 was my first math class after taking precalculus/trigonometry back in spring 2020, and there was stress building up on me whether I would fail or succeed at it. I got a B in that class, and I would take calc II over the summer for 8 weeks afterwards; that class was even stressful with me doing classwork nonstop and no free time for me whatsoever, and as I thought that I did pretty badly with the performance I had in that class, I passed with a C! And then calc III came around that fall, and my first attempt was bad; some stuff in my personal life was eating me up and I’ve been too focused on getting things done for other classes. And when I had my second attempt in that class back in spring of this year, I made sure that I wouldn’t fail again but oh was I wrong - stress and focusing on other classes were eating me up again, and I failed again. Leading to my third and final attempt, I took everything steadily for this year’s fall semester and I truly made it clear that I will pass calc III; there were a few bumpy roads, but in the end… once my final exam for the class got graded, and went to go on Canvas to see that my overall grade for the class was a D, I was iffy for a few seconds and then I check my grades in my student services for the college I go to just to see that my final grade for calc III for that semester was a C! I’m happy that I finally passed, and I’m beyond fortunate to at least get a happy ending after a shitty year! So yeah, if you’re wondering why I haven’t been my happy and usual self, I kept retaking calc III to the point it drained me and made me question how to move forward with me majoring in mathematics (I really don't know how much I would talk about this kind of stuff, but I do need to take it easy and limit myself)! And for the time being, I’m going to celebrate passing the class with some R&R after carrying the bs on my back and self-indulgence! 😌💅🏼

Alrighty moving on from all of that, onto the drawing! Well, self-indulgence aside, I may or may not have been contemplating drawing this for a while now, and I just want to try capturing the happiness and celebration of what I’ve been feeling lately - and given the fact that last year’s New Years drawing was done on FireAlpaca and you guys enjoyed it, I figured that I should do it again, and it’s for the best anyway as I need to get end-of-the-year projects done instead of getting this (…and another drawing 👀) finalized! One thing’s for sure, I’ve at least fulfilled my promise in getting out of my comfort zone by sharing drawings done in FireAlpaca instead of doing full rendering on SAI this year - thank you for that! 💖

And most importantly, and maybe I should try getting out of my comfort zone to say ‘thank you’ more, despite everything I’ve been through, with love and gratitude I’m forever grateful for the support and appreciation you’ve given me and my content; thank you for taking your time and day in acknowledging and appreciating with what I can do - to my followers, friends, and mutuals, this one’s for you!

And that’s all I have to say - so so long 2022, you nasty fuck! Hoping that 2023 will come with and give us all greater things and happiness! Here’s to 2023, thank you so much for everything~ ♡♡♡

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Moe Violence: or How I Struck the Jidaigeki Goldmine

I lost a close friend recently. A really close one and it was the kind of sudden bolt from the blue that’s really just fate waking up and deciding to kick you in the teeth. He liked old Western movies and was enough of a film buff to know how much back-and-forth there was with samurai cinema. So we had a lot of fun talking about movies. Made me want to finally get through a stack of films I’ve dug up on archive.org. Liking what I like, I think this binge has helped get a lot of clarity on where we started with looking at Lady Snowblood & Red Swallow Oyuki. (Oh...by the way. I plum forgot Snowblood’s auntie/confidant type figure was named Okiku. Always has a basket of yellow mums outside her door)

Started with checking out a trio of films the absolutely wonderful Junko Miyazono did after Red Swallow. Series is called Tales of the Poison Seductress; Hannya Ohyaku, Quick-Draw Okatsu, & Okatsu the Fugitive. They’re all standalone, caution though they’re very violent. SA is a factor too but from what I’ve seen most of the scenes may drag but try to keep it not too graphic. I say that as someone pretty turned off but “losing her virtue” is a threat hanging around frequently in these and there’s a torture element. This is 60s/70s Japanese Grindhouse cinema, the type of thing that inspired gory directors like Quentin Tarantino. It ain’t for everyone and that’s why I wanna gush about it here. What I’m getting more and more though is that pinning our beloved Okiku to one jidaigeki reference is a fool’s errand. My dears, she’s an ode to an entire subgenre!

Let’s not split hairs over the specific category of Toei films and slightly different ones with a female lead. The term I see used is “Pinky Violence.” Pinky coming from having female leads and being very sexually charged affairs. Toei needed to do something to compete with more Western movies making it over, so they opted for shock value and the way they went for it ended up giving us a pretty feminist genre. Not to say these were all jidaigeki which means “period drama.” There were a lot of modern ones I have yet to dive into heavily. Before Lady Snowblood Meiko Kaji gave us a really fun looking 6-part series called Stray Cat Rock for a great example. Machine guns, motorcycles, and LSD. They look awesome and check this aesthetic! I’m in love.

That knowledge does make me think of Nami and the early design with a missing arm. Jojo’s Stone Ocean as well while we’re at it. There’s also a fair number of Yakuza movies that fall sorta in between like the Red Peony Gambler (Hibotan Bakuto) series. It’s all a little nebulous if you want to get into the weeds. There’s a few different styles from a few different studios but make no mistake. These were popular movies in Japan. Big studios like Toei were churning them out as B movies to maintain relevance. Compete with television and Hollywood’s resources.  

Know what isn’t nebulous? Yeah...the hallmarks of the genre are big things we see out of Okiku’s role in Wano. The otherwise perfect lady with some little hook that means she isn’t “marriage material.” The whole arc of showing she can kick as much ass as any man but always reminding you of the lady playing the part. A big, big shared element is this core theme of taking down corrupt officials who abuse their power. Urashima the Yokozuna is exactly the type of guy who’d end up a villain in these. Sticking up for humble villagers, looking out for other women and children. Being the collateral damage of “great” men’s ambitions is what we tend to see over traditional fare like say, reinstalling a dynasty. I love the running theme of these being so much more local in scope. And Kiku gets that modern twist of her being trans for the “excuse.” I adore that in contrast to anime trends of needing to make an excuse for the deviance. My dead sister was the favorite, I went silly due to trauma, etc. This trope and trend of subversion is a big reason I love the mistaken bride idea. 

The more of these I see, and I’m friggin hooked these days, the more I see little bits and bobs that feel like they may have shaped our beautiful flower of Wano. And others! She’s a little more than a simple homage though. We do see the violence part pretty well for One Piece. Kiku gets the shit beaten out of her on Onigashima and it is gory by this manga’s standards. That’s where the modernization seems to be though. We tone down the sexuality for cute. Which isn’t that off base, the archetype in historical settings typically does have that innocent and sweet side. One Piece just isn’t the type of series you’re going to actually see things like making good on Tama’s intro of fleeing from being sold to the red light district. Even if it didn’t make it in the proper story, Kiku & Izo’s origin does flirt with that kind of content more than the series usually would. Hell, we do get Holdem torturing Tama and the series just fades to black on a similar spot for Tsuru. 

Wano made this genre feel familiar already. Snowblood loves it some anachronic storytelling, Red Peony sets up and ends films with a non-diagetic theatrical framing. Ohyaku uses a big simpleton to bust out of a prison camp. Speaking of, can I please get someone whipping a hair stick like a dart? That’s my favorite little signature from the Red Peony. Oryu in those is a fun protagonist played by Junko Fuji. That’s one of the more accessible series, less graphic than One Piece so far, and she plays with gender as a theme more. Proclaims to be a man but we always see deep down she’s still a lady that wishes she could have married the honest merchant’s son. Oh...and almost all of these ladies are total daddy’s girls like Kiku acts towards Kin. That whole series gets its own because there’s eight of them and they’re soooo good. 

Eiichiro Oda is a great writer and worldbuilder...but he’s actually pretty derivative. One Piece doesn’t break ground as much as refine the dominant genre when it started, even Rurouni Kenshin was more subversive for shonen. The more I see of these though, the more I see Oda just being this big kid who thought these old movies were so cool and couldn’t wait to rip into his samurai gang. Of course one of em if gonna be a little Junko Miyazono/Meiko Kaji being a fierce strong-willed lady of war. These movies are classic cool!

[prismatranslates-cue]

Yuuki [Three Sentinel Fortification, Fall Thanksgiving Fair] Part 3

Previously: Part 2

Yuuki: Mission…complete!!

Airi: We did it!

Yuuki: I can’t thank you guys enough, honestly.

Yuzuha: So I guess now we’re free to do whatever, right? Is it time, Chisa?

Chisa: Yes, yes. Here we go.

Yuuki: Hm…? What’s this? That’s a big chunky box you’ve got there.

Chisa: Go ahead, open it.

Yuuki: Haha, what is this? Hang on, is this a prank or something? Is something gonna pop out like, “Bam!”?

Airi: You won’t know until you open it.

Yuuki: Hm..?

Yuuki: I honestly don’t know what’s happening, but oh well! Here I go! Open…sesame!

Yuuki: …Huh?

Airi: We weren’t lying when we said we wanted to help, but this was our real reason for coming today.

Yuuki: It’s…a pumpkin cake!

Yuuki: And it says “Happy Birthday”!

Yuzuha: Honestly, Yuuki. We were planning on throwing a party for you and then you just had to go and run home.

Chisa: We really wanted to celebrate with you on the actual day, so we decided we’d come all the way out here.

Yuuki: You guys…

Chisa: And Manager sends their regards! They bought this cake, actually.

Chisa: We told them that we wanted to come wish you happy birthday, and they said, “Then I guess you’ll need a nice big cake!”

Yuzuha: That’s our Manager, always knowing what we need from them.

Airi: A big round cake is easier to share, after all!

Chisa: A Halloween party would be fun and all, but more than anything we wanted to celebrate your birthday, Yuuki.

Chisa: We brought you some birthday presents too, of course. Here’s mine.

Yuuki: Ooh, it’s…tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplants…why vegetables?

Chisa: Those are from my own garden, you know. Raised with love and care. Er, but I guess it’s not exactly the most exciting gift…

Yuuki: I love it, Chisa! They look super tasty! Honestly, they almost look too good to eat!

Airi: Here’s mine…

Yuuki: Gasp! This is…a 1/100 scale MG Daibarion modelling kit! And you even got the additional kit for submarine mode parts!

Yuuki: I checked so many stores trying to find these! I’d honestly given up. You’re really giving this to me?

Airi: Mhm! I got it because I knew you were looking for it, after all. Can I see it after you’ve built it?

Yuuki: You betcha! Oh man, I feel like I’m going to start bouncing off the walls just from holding the box in my hands…

Chisa: That exciting, huh…

Yuzuha: Here’s mine. It’s a Peranakan porcelain tableware set. [1]

Yuuki: Ooh. I’ve never seen anything like this fun little squid design!

Yuzuha: It’s a big set, so you could even use it here in the restaurant if you want.

Airi: I feel like it sort of conflicts with the atmosphere here though…

Yuuki: Not a problem! We’ll use every last one! We'll take good care of them. Thanks, Yuzuha!

Chisa: She’s not kidding…

Yuuki: To be honest, I’ve never really celebrated my birthday before.

Yuzuha: Oh no, really?

Yuuki: It’s on Halloween when we’re always so busy, so I’ve never been able to do anything besides help out here at the restaurant. Before I know it, the day’s already over.

Yuuki: So I’ve never really had time to celebrate it. And I’ve never really done anything for Halloween either.

Yuuki: But this year was different! And I even get to spend it with you guys!

Yuuki: Wanna eat the cake now? Let’s eat some cake! Come on, I know you want to!

Chisa: We can if you really want, but I think it’ll taste better cold.

Yuuki: Good point! We’ll stick it in the fridge and have at it later then!

Airi: I was hoping we could go look around the shopping district. I saw some amazing decorations earlier.

Yuuki: Now that you mention it, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a chance to really experience the shopping district at this time of year either, since I’m always holed up in here…

Yuzuha: This is perfect, then. Let’s all explore together!

Yuuki: Yeah!

---

Airi: Oh wow, it’s so pretty…All the lights turned on, glowing in the night…

Yuuki: Ooh…it’s amazing!

Yuzuha: It’s your birthday, Yuuki, so get whatever you like! The rest of us will cover the costs.

Yuuki: You mean it?! You mean that you mean it?!

Chisa: It’s your special day, after all.

Yuuki: Waaah! You guys are too much.

Yuuki: Let’s see…Ooh, that ice cream over there looks yummy.

Yuuki: Oh, but I wanna try that cotton candy too…

Airi: In the end, it’s all food…

Chisa: Isn’t it too cold for ice cream now?

Yuuki: Don’t you know, Chisa? That’s when you can truly savour the ice cream experience!

Chisa: Are you sure…?

Yuzuha: Oh, look! There’s a pumpkin mascot character!

Yuuki: What?! Where?!

Yuzuha: Look, over there.

Yuuki: Ooh, there it is! Wow, that costume is huge. Must suck for whoever’s inside.

Chisa: Come on, you’re not supposed to talk about them out loud…

Yuuki: Ooh, I wanna touch it! Oh, I wonder where their eyes are.

Yuuki: You guys come too! Let’s go!

Airi: She looks like she’s having so much fun. I’m glad.

Chisa: You’d think she’s a kid, the way she’s running around.

Yuzuha: Really? Isn’t this how she usually is, though?

Yuuki: Come on, hurry it up guys!

Chisa: Yeah, yeah. Coming~

Fin.

---

Notes

[1]: Peranakan porcelain wares are vibrantly colourful and expensive, associated with wealthy Chinese immigrants (and their descendants) to Singapore and other regions of Southeast Asia.

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 3

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: After a thorough interrogation from Abby, you and Sebastian get to know each other better.

Author’s Note: n/a

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

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The four of us grab some drinks and a pizza to share, and proceed to the back room, where there’s a few games to play. Abby and I plop down on a couch each in the back corner while Sam and Sebastian play pool. Seb is kicking Sam’s ass. I wonder how I’d hold up against them?

“If I could give the cue ball a bit of a top spin, maybe I could… ” the poor guy mutters to himself. At least he’s trying his best.

“So, are you up for a game of 20 questions while those weirdos do their thing?”

“The word guessing one, or the truth-or-dare-but-without-the-dare one?”

“Uhh, the second.”

“What is this, Tinder?”

She snorts, “Are you in or not?”

I shrug, chug a few swigs of my beer, and get cozy.

“You first, then.”

She thinks for a moment.

I go for another sip while I wait, when suddenly she blurts out, “What’s your type?” 

I nearly choke, holding back a laugh. “God, this really does feel like Tinder, I dunno. I haven’t been with that many people.” 

“Welllll, what do you look for in a person then?” 

“Nothing in particular.”

“Not even a little bit of a preference?”

“Nope.”

“What do the people you’ve been with look like then?”

She’s very intense. It’s a little uncomfortable — no, very uncomfortable. But now that my lightweight ass has had the whole 2 drops of alcohol that it takes for me to feel bolder, I might as well have fun with it.

Giving her a diabolical grin, I ask, “Are you hitting on me, Abigail?” 

This brings Seb and Sam’s attention to us. They continue playing, but I can feel their eyes boring into us. Abby’s cheeks turn beet red and she laughs, shoving down some more beer. She doesn’t answer, so I’m unsure if she’s actually been called out, or if she’s just embarrassed by my question. 

Based on our subpar interaction involving Sebastian earlier, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to figure out if I’d be into him. It’s more fun to assume differently, though.

I think briefly, trying to remember something that everyone I’ve dated – or, you know, canoodled with – had in common.

“They were all taller than me.” Not like that’s hard to do. “Does that work?”

All three of them nod. Abby shrugs and mutters a grumpy “I suppose” with a mouthful of pizza, while the guys resume concentration on their own game.

“Alright, you’re up,” she urges, popping some emphasis onto the “p” sound.

I nod towards her hair. 

“Why purple?”

“What’s wrong with purple?” A fair response.

“Nothing, it looks pretty! I’m just curious.”

Abby explains something about amethysts, hair dye, and ~magic~. I don’t entirely understand, but I do my best to follow along. 

Basically, she dyed it purple in high school, because amethysts are her favorite mineral. She described them as delicious, and I genuinely cannot tell if she’s just the type that uses that word casually, or if she just… eats rocks. 

After dying it in what Abby thought was a simple act of self-care combined with teenage rebellion, her hair remained purple. Like, the roots literally just never grew back in with the natural light brown she was apparently born with. 

It sounds like a load of bullshit, but for some reason, I believe her. Something does seem magical about this place.

“You know,” I say following her story, “The first thing that came to mind when I first saw you outside was that your hair reminds me of amethysts.”

“Oh!” She’s completely gleaming. “That’s really cool actually. Thanks!” We had a rough start, had me sweatin’ for sure, so hopefully that got me some brownie points. I just want friends, man. “I have more questions for you, lady.” 

__________________

Once a few more beers are in all of us and Sam has had enough losses for the night, Abby finally eases up on the interrogation (who in the western world asks a stranger for their blood type?!) and summons Sam to dance with her by the jukebox across the bar. 

By “summon,” I mean she pulls Sam up from his seat on the cushion next to me, and starts preemptively dancing in an attempt to convince him. It doesn’t take much effort — Sam said a second ago that he just wants to chill, but the smile and light shimmying of his shoulders says otherwise.

Abby seems to know better than to try and make Sebastian dance, and after I profusely decline, she leaves me alone too. She calls me boring, but I shrug and accept the defeat, as she takes Sam’s hand and leads him to the source of the music.

I look around, people-watching a bit. There’s a gorgeous redheaded girl at the opposite corner of the place, eyeballing me while talking to a man with the absolute most luscious strawberry-blonde hair I’ve ever seen. I smile, and so does she — then her friend turns and grins too, and I return it with a wave. He seems gentlemanly, and the girl’s the outdoorsy type if I had to guess. I love it. I gotta meet them properly, but definitely not tonight. I’d make a fool out of myself.

I look over at Sebastian. He seems to be doing the same thing as me — just sorta people-watching — so I won’t bug him. I do want to get to know him, being that I’m practically obsessed with him for some fucking reason lord help me, but I’d rather save that stuff for when he’s ready. If he ever is. There’s always the possibility that we simply never hang out again after this.

As if he read my mind, Sebastian gets up and strolls over to the couch that I’m thoroughly draped across, investigating me with curious eyes the whole way over. Can’t help but get a little flustered under his gaze like that…

I scoot over a bit to make room, but in my drunken state, I accidentally let my whole upper body flop onto his arm. He doesn’t move away. Right when I’m wondering if I should give him some space, he almost seems to lean into the contact. Fine by me, handsome.

“Out of all the places y’could live,” he slurs a bit, “you chose Pelican Town?”

I look at his face ready to answer, but as I realize our proximity I can feel my cheeks burning. His own cheeks are pretty rosy from the alcohol, and it’s a cute look on him. 

I have the urge to cup his face with my hand and kiss his stupid pink cheeks, but I resist. 

Sober me will thank me for that. 

I move over a bit. Now that there’s adequate room between us, I can answer him without getting my panties in a twist.

“I had no direction in life, a miserable desk job, and no friends to keep me grounded,” I say in one long exhale.

He looks confused. Before I can inquire why, he asks, “Didn’t you come from the city?” I nod. “There’s tons of jobs and people there. Why waste that here?”

“I’m too anxious to have just changed my shit around while I was there,” I can feel my voice lowering, as I pour my heart out to a practical stranger. This is terrible — I’m sober enough to know what’s going on, but drunk enough that I can’t hold back. Gotta ease up next time I’m here. “And people are frickin’ scary. I’ve just gotten kinda good at pretending I don’t think so when I’m around them, I guess… I could only pretend for so long, you know?” 

Seb’s eyes linger on me, and he nods slowly, probably knowing how I feel if Robin’s spiel on him was any indication. I inhale the last of my beer. I chase it with some water, offering him some from my glass, which he accepts.

“I was only coming here in the first place with the intent to,” I pause and wave a hand in the direction of Lewis, who’s sitting at a table with Marnie on the other side of the saloon — “Fulfill the duty Mayor Lewis bestowed upon me. Usually I can’t stand crowded places like this.” 

“Oh yeah? What happened to that?”

“You guys did,” I laugh.

He chuckles with a lazy, smug grin plastered on his face. 

I reposition myself to face him. I prop up my crossed arms onto my left side, where the back cushion of the sofa starts to sink down, and I lean my chin on my forearms. My knees are tucked to my chest, but I have bike shorts on under my skirt, so I'm not exactly in a scandalous position. 

From here, I do a little more inspecting. I found it surprising that Sebastian willingly talked to me, given his introvertedness and generally cold demeanor, but even more so when he came and sat next to me. What’s up with this guy?

I stare a little too long again, and he notices. Oh no, my sappy drunk is kicking in! Before I can yield, I word-vomit, “Y’know, you’re really cool.” 

For fuck’s sake, lady!

A dark blush dusts my face and my eyes widen as I look down at the couch – why the fuck would I say that after he caught me trying to scope him out again? I look back up, in an attempt to assess the situation.

His neatly groomed eyebrows are furrowed, and his mouth’s barely ajar, but curving into a smirk nonetheless. I feel the blush spreading to my ears, rather than dissipating, because of course! So I shove my face into my arms.

“What makes you say that?” Sebastian asks after a moment. I can hear a smile lingering in his voice.

I just shrug and answer with a muffled “Fuck, I dunno,” hoping he’ll hear. I know I’ll say something stupid about how nice, and hot, and whatever I think he is if I look up or open my big mouth again. 

“Well,” he continues, which I assume means he saw the shrug, “you’re pretty neat too, I guess. For a farmer.”

I giggle, with another muffled “Fuck.” He can’t see it, but I’m smiling like an absolute madlad right now.

I peer up after a bit, still refusing to look at the gorgeous man sitting next to me, and see Sam and Abby watching us as they dance. Sam looks intrigued, but happy, as he often seems to.

Abby seems… annoyed? Angry? I can’t put my finger on it. I wonder why she’s grilling the shit out of me, until I realize how close Seb and I have drifted to each other — ah, that’s why.  I look up at him, and he’s watching Abby menacingly stare at me. He looks tense .

I’m about to ask if he’s alright, but he stands up. Seb offers me a hand – I’m assuming he either knows I’m worried, or he knows there’s a possibility of me struggling to get up on my own right now if I tried. Or maybe he’s just sweet and feelin’ handsy.

“Let’s ditch ‘em for a bit. I need air.”

As we stumble out, I lock eyes with Robin, who’s dancing with, I’m assuming, Demetrius. She gives me a wave as she’s spun around, I toss up a peace sign in return. Her eyes widen when she sees that I’m leaving with her son, and she waggles her eyebrows at me. I try to ignore her in the most polite possible way, by ducking my head as I exit. 

The moment we step outside, Sebastian leans on the wall, lets out a huge, sexy mmmmm, breathy groan he seemed to be holding in, and promptly begins to smoke. 

“You alright?” I quietly inquire, stopping mid-sentence to swallow a hiccup.

“I’d rather not get into it.”

“You got it, sir,” I salute him and lean against (or, more likely, fall into) the wall as well.

It’s still drizzling, but not pouring like earlier, and it’s just a tad windy. This is nice. I love the rain, when I don’t have to be moving around so much underneath it. I slide down the wall to sit on the wet ground, and to my surprise, Seb joins me.

I ask him for a smoke. He asks if I smoke. I say no. He lightly scolds me for even thinking to do that to myself. I scold him for doing it too, although I make sure to boldly emphasize how edgy and cool he looks doing it. He rolls his eyes and lets me take a puff of his cigarette, which I promptly give back, having taken too big of a hit for my poor virgin lungs.

Once my coughing fit dies down, we have a few minutes of comfortable silence. In the midst of it, I’m overcome with sleepiness. Our silly, brief conversations are revved up again, saving me from dozing off. Lotta friendly banter, while also getting to know each other:

Seb’s naturally a ginger, like Robin, who I just learned was in her late teen years when she had him. Similarly to Abigail, his hair stopped coming in his natural color at some point. 

He got homeschooled until Sam moved here. They became friends on the playground one day, and that same day they both managed to convince Robin to let Seb go to Sam’s public school out of town.

He was bullied by most people there — called homophobic slurs because he wore eyeliner and nail polish, shoved around in the hallway, had his clean clothes stolen after gym class once, all that fun stuff. God, teenagers suck.

I share some of my story too. Nothing special, pretty similar to his in some ways. Got bullied a lot, not because I “looked gay,” but because I just looked like a stereotypical nerd.

I moved around a bit, had a hard time fitting in partially because of that and partially due to a constant ongoing identity crisis that only started to dwindle down, like, when I was free from corporate Ferngill. So, this week.

I had dyed my hair a few times here and there, but unlike my new neighbors, it grew back naturally. We unanimously declare that it’s gotta be something in the water here, fucking with people’s biological makeup.

Once I feel sober enough to walk, I begin my farewell of sorts. “I gotta get going, I’m wiped.”

Sebastian nods in response. I’m about to leave, but I stop myself, turning back to him.

“This was a lot of fun. Tell Sam I said thanks for roping me into it. And,” I shoot him some corny ass finger guns, “thank you for dealin’ with me.”

He shoots me a genuine, sleepy-eyed smile, “You got it, (y/n).”

Hearing Seb say my name for the first time gives me chills. He sure is having an affect on me, but I can’t pinpoint why. Maybe it’s just because he looks really good, and I’m still very tipsy, and it’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid.

It’s gotta be that. Like, totally is.

“Get home safe,” he adds, stomping out his cigarette and heading back inside.

“You too, emo boy.”

[hxney-lemcn]

No One Like You — Hunter x gn! reader

Summery: Reader comes to admit their feelings to themself. Then Hunter goes to reader's house for comfort after finding out some damned truths.

tw: Spoilers for season 2 episode 16. Breakdowns.

wc: 1.3k

Chapter Eleven

Master List | Chapter One

I was able to keep in contact with Hunter better now that he had a Penstagram. His typing…was still slow…and he made a lot of mistakes, but I didn’t mind. He even sent me pictures of him with his palismen. Well less of him, and more just his palismen but whatever. 

Communication with him still wasn’t perfect. He could go for a few days before responding, but I knew he was busy, being a coven guard and all. 

I sat in the living room of my house, on a crow call with Iris. Momma was off at work, and mom was baking a krying cake. 

“So,” Iris trailed off. “What ever happened to that Hunter guy?”

You see, I’ve been so busy with Hunter and Luz and that group of friends, I haven’t hung out with Iris or Damek much since…well since Luz joined Hexside. Which I felt bad about, but my life has been so hectic with everything I didn’t have much time. I talked with them yesterday and they mentioned that they didn’t mind, and that we all need to hang out again soon and go over things that happened to us. But Iris wanted some details now apparently. 

“Oh,” I replied, not expecting that question. “Hahaha, about that…we got pretty close. Also turns out he’s the Golden Guard and he’s caused some problems, but against the odds we’re still friends.”

“Oooo!” Iris exclaimed. “Frienemies to lovers who?”

“H-hold on!” I exclaimed back, feeling myself fluster. “Where did the lovers part come in?”

“Don’t think I didn’t see Willow’s Penstagram post,” She huffed. “You two were awfully close…physically and apparently emotionally too.”

“I-wha!” I stuttered, trying to come up with an explanation. “We were all close in that photo!”

“With the matching face paint?” Iris said, her voice deadpan. “Aaaaaand Damek told me he saw you kiss Hunter's cheek at the club fair…”

“Oh Titan,” I groaned, sprawling on the couch. “I-it was a friendly gesture! F…friends do that…totally.” 

“Then why haven’t you kissed me on the cheek?” Iris asked, and I could just picture the smug smile on her face. 

“Your…I…I don’t know,” I deflated.

“You are down horrendous and you don’t even know,” She said with a slight laugh. 

“Shut up, I am not,” I defended. But…thinking back on how much I care for Hunter, and how happy he made me feel. And how I actually haven’t felt this way towards anyone else before…Iris is right. I felt so comfortable with Hunter and…all the intimate moments we shared. “Okay maybe I am.”

Iris laughed, “That’s so sweet!!”

“He, uh, he made a Penstagram account,” I started. “So now we can check up on each other when we can’t meet in person. One time we didn’t see each other for a month straight…”

“And it gets cuter!” Iris squealed. “You need to confess already!” 

“Why me?” I asked. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“Well I don’t know Hunter that well,” Iris started. “But he doesn’t seem the type to have the confidence for that.”

“And I seem like the type?” I questioned incredulously. 

“Well I didn’t think you’d be bold enough to kiss someone either sooo,” Iris replied simply.

“It was only on the cheek!” I exclaimed. “And…I don’t know, it just felt right at that moment.”

Suddenly I heard a rapid knock at the front door. I looked out the window and I noticed it was really dark out.

“I don’t mean to cut this short,” I pipped up as Mama went to answer the door. “But it's getting late, let's talk again soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Iris agreed. “Have a nice night.”

“You too,” I replied before hanging up.

Sitting up on the couch, I went to stand up, only to see Momma leading a disheveled Hunter into the room. I perked up as she sat him on the couch and rushed into the kitchen. Hunter was hyperventilating, his eyes puffy from crying. I felt my heart sink as I knew something was very wrong.

“He knows,” Hunter wailed, putting his head in his hands. “He knows, and I know, and he knows that I know.” 

Having no context to the situation, I didn’t know what to say. I scooted closer to him and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around him. Momma quickly rushed back in with a cup of tea, I took it from her with a shaky smile and set it on the koffee table. Momma looked at me with concern and I shrugged. She nodded before walking away hesitantly.

“Hunter,” I softly spoke, hoping to not alarm him. He only grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Grabbing his hands, I tried to get him to clutch to me instead, to get his attention in some way. “Hunter, look at me.”

Slowly, his tear soaked gaze met my concerned one, “I want you to take deep breaths with me, okay sweetheart?” He clutched my hands a little stronger and I took that as a sign of him agreeing. I took in a deep breath, keeping my eyes glued to Hunter’s, “In, two, three, four.” Breathing out I continued, “Out, two, three, four.” I continued this until Hunter’s breathing finally calmed down. I brushed my thumb against his fingers, waiting to see if he would say something first. And surprisingly he did.

“B-belos…” Hunter stuttered, looking to the side in fear. “He…I…Luz and I were transported into Belos’ mind. I-I was just trying to stop this group from performing the spell, but Luz got in the way and poof!” Hunter laughed slightly hysterically. “And-and there was this monster, and we had to hide, but we had to go through his memories. I felt awful, but then we found out about how he was planning something. And…” Hunter brought our intertwined hands to his face. “(Y/n) I’m…I’m a Grimwalker, I’m…I don’t know. I’m not the first, I’m just a clone.”

My eyes widened at the revelation. It didn’t change my thoughts of Hunter, I don’t know why it would, but it seemed to devastate Hunter. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to find out you were a clone, grimwalker as he said. An artificial witch.

“Hey,” I said, gaining his attention. “You’re still you. You’re Hunter, my friend. And a player of the Emerald Entrails. A dork who likes history books and is slow with technology.”

Looking to the side, he whispered, “It’s not just that. The day of Unity…it’s…he’s planning on wiping out witch kind.”

I felt dread overtake me at that. Fear started to creep up through my veins but I tried to stay strong. 

“And he saw us,” Hunter continued. “He saw me, he…I can’t go back. He’s going to come after me.”

Releasing his hands, I rested my hands on his cheeks instead, pulling his face close to mine, “You can stay here. He’ll get you over my dead body.” Hunter shook his head vehemently, closing his eyes tight causing tears to trickle down, “No! I won’t put you in danger because of me.”

Wiping the tears with my thumbs, I cooed out, “Hunter he won’t find you here. He doesn’t know you’re friends with me. And besides, you really think I’m going to let you walk away now?”

Hunter held me in a bone crushing hug, nuzzling his face into the side of my neck. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him closer if that was even possible. I rubbed his back, my nails slightly scratching against the fabric of his clothes. 

The sound of the front door opening alerted us and Hunter visibly tense. Mom came into the living room, the sounds of bags rustling as she set them down by us. 

“Hey sweetie,” Mom said softly. “Momma called and told me the situation, so I stopped at the night market on my way home and bought some clothes.” 

Love overwhelmed me at how caring my moms were and I smiled, “Thanks mom, it means a lot.”

“Of course,” She nodded. “But you kids should head to bed soon, it’s really late.”

“Okay,” I nodded. Mom patted my head before walking off. “C’mon Hunter, you should change and let's head to bed.”

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[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 24 - Post Break Up [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Break ups are never easy.

Series Masterlist

A real spy, a good spy didn’t get scared.

That was one of the most important things they had taught you back at the academy. Being scared got you killed, so you always had to look for weapons or something you could use to save yourself.

Save yourself, take the target down if you can, and if you can’t; get out of there as soon as possible.

For some reason, none of those options felt like they would work against the most feared assassin in the world. Bucky tilted his head, his gaze bored into yours and you stole a look at the counter from the corner of your eye to see what you could use against him.

“Oh come on, do we really have to do that?”

You grabbed the knife on the counter, flipping it in your hand.

“What kind of an assassin would I be if I didn’t fight back?”

He pulled his brows together.

“Fight back?” he asked but before he could say anything else, you had already lunged at him. He dodged the knife way too easily and grabbed to twist your arm, but you went under his arm and jumped to wrap your legs around his neck, using the momentum to make him lose his balance before you both fell to the ground.

“Brings back the memories,” you grunted and he got out of your tight grip quite easily to grab at you, but you had already jumped on your feet. You darted at him and he sent you back, your back hitting the wall hard. You fell on your knees and snatched the knife off the floor but as soon as you got on your feet again, he let out a breath.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

A hysterical laughter escaped from your lips, “You do realize that it’s not my first day, right?”

“Do you seriously think I’d hurt you?”

“I think if somebody crossed me the way I crossed you, I wouldn’t let them live.”

“Yeah well, good thing I’m not you.”

You frowned slightly, trying to catch your breath as you held the knife tighter.

“Then what the fuck is this?” you asked, “Closure?”

“Oh no I think we’ve had closure,” he said, anger dripping off his voice, “This is a transaction.”

You stared at him and he reached into his pocket to pull out a thumb drive.

Well.

Okay. It was clear that you had misread this situation.

You put the knife on the table and crossed your arms, leaning back, “What is that?”

“This is the information of everyone I hurt on my Winter Soldier days,” he said, “Dates, names, occupations…. Your father’s name isn’t on it.”

Your stomach did a painful flip, “I know,” you rasped out, “I… um- I found out after I left that night.”

“HYDRA doesn’t have anything on your father, as far as I’ve seen.”

You nodded slowly, “And you’re helping me why?”

“I’m not helping you,” he stated, “I just know how it feels to be manipulated into doing something. Everyone deserves answers, no matter how terrible people they are.”

Well, you deserved that and much more.

“I see,” you said, “Well, for what it’s worth, thank you.”

He eyed you up and down silently.

“Why did you try to get me out of the country?” he asked after a beat, “That night? Why did you try to help?”

You bit inside your cheek, commanding yourself to stay strong.

“Does it matter after this point?” you asked back and he let out a breath, shaking his head.

“I guess not,” he mumbled and walked to the window, making you take a step towards him.

“Can I—“ you spoke before he could jump out, making him turn around to look at you, “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Why would you not want revenge?” you asked, “It’s assassin 101. Why not come after me for all these months?”

Why didn’t you try to find me?

That was what you wanted to ask. As twisted as it was, you would’ve taken him coming after you over him forgetting about you.

Well, as it turned out, no one could say assassins were reasonable people when it came to romance.

“I’m not that person anymore,” he said, “And honestly? You’re not worth it.”

Ah. That.

You could swear your heart was cracking but you pursed your lips together, forcing yourself to look unaffected.

“Fair enough,” you rasped out and took a deep breath. “Goodbye Bucky.”

He swallowed thickly, his gaze fixed on you.

“Goodbye Shrike,” he murmured and jumped out of the window, leaving you all alone, standing there in the middle of your apartment. You blinked back the tears, then ran a hand over your face.

“Get your shit together,” you murmured to yourself, then grabbed the wine glass to down it.

                                             *

The next day you were so busy with the HYDRA files Bucky had given you that you barely noticed Keith pulling a seat to plop down beside you.

“Hi there.”

“Hey,” you said without pulling your gaze off the screen as Keith put a cup of coffee on the table. “Thanks man.”

“No problem. What’re you working on?”

“Oh just some old files.”

“Old files? Where did you get them?”

“Bucky gave them to me last night.”

Keith sputtered out his coffee, causing you to make a face and grab the napkins to wipe the screen.

“Is this your first time they let you out into the real world or something?” you asked him, “Like, what is this? Were you raised in a barn? I don’t want your fucking germs—“

“Screw you. You met Barnes last night?” he lowered his voice, looking around and you shrugged.

“Met is the wrong word.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?”

“It’s not like I texted him to meet!” you whispered, “He just showed up!”

“Okay, we need to give you some protection—“

“No, and you’re not telling anyone.”

“You’re not safe!” he whispered and you shook her head.

“He’s not gonna hurt me.”

“Y/N-“

“He’s not,” you cut him off, “If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. I talk big talk, but trust me if he came after me, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I actually saw that last night.”

“Why was he there?”

“To give me this thumb drive,” you said, “I’m just going through this HYDRA stuff to see whether they had something on my father, whether— I don’t know, whether I missed something on our files.”

“We checked everything we had on HYDRA.”

“I’m just making sure.”

“What did he say?”

“Hm?”

“What did you talk about last night, when he showed up?”

“You know, typical break up stuff,” you murmured before peeling your eyes off the screen. “He broke into my apartment, gave me a thumb drive with top secret information and oh—before I forget, he said I wasn’t worth going after.”

He blinked a couple of times, staring at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“So much for civil exes huh?”

“More like evil exes,” he commented, “You know he’s being a jerk to you because you tore his heart out, right?”

“I can’t really blame him,” you muttered, “He’s right to be upset.”

“But are you okay?”

You scoffed a laugh, “I betrayed the one person who I could see a future with,” you admitted, “And six months apparently wasn’t enough to get over him. So no, Keith, I’m really not okay.”

He pressed his lips together.

“What if we got you out there? You know, maybe you can’t get over someone without getting under someone.”

“I’ve had sex in the last six months, that’s not working.”

“Barnes hasn’t.”

That was enough to make you turn your head, your whole attention on him.

“What?”

“We’ve um… we’ve kept an eye on Barnes and Wilson, you know, what they have been doing. Barnes isn’t even meeting people.”

“Maybe he is and you don’t know.”

“Nope,” he said, “He and Captain America have been going on their own missions, but since Accords 2.0 didn’t pass, we can’t touch them.”

You tilted your head, “Hold on, what missions?”

A big grin pulled at Keith’s lips.

“Y/N, are you asking me to share classified information with you?”

You arched a brow and eyed you up and down, then steered your office chair a little to the left.

“I’m glad you came back,” he said, dragging his fingers on the touchpad to find the files, “Things were getting a little boring here.”

                                                    *

As a spy, finding targets wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. In fact, since coming back here you were beginning to feel less like a professional spy and more like a rookie in training. You were growing restless every minute you weren’t working, and maybe that was why you were dying to keep yourself busy with something.

Even if that something was completely forbidden by your agency and you would probably be sent to another country again if they ever found that out.

So searching for where Bucky and Sam were using the agency’s resources was probably a bad idea, yet there you were.

You took a deep breath, then approached their table and plopped down to the seat next to Bucky’s.

“You’re going after HYDRA’s leader?”

Bucky’s head whipped up and Sam gawked at you for a second before pulling his brows together.

“What the…”

“Who’s your source?”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked through his teeth and you crossed your arms.

“Paying back the favor.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want you here.”

“How did you even know-“

“I’m a spy, Sam,” you stated, “And the agency has been watching you, do you guys seriously think we've left you alone?”

“I was actually hoping you’d leave me alone, yeah.” Bucky growled through his teeth and your heart dropped to your stomach, but you managed to shake your head.

“I don’t—“

“Your agency has been keeping tracks on us?”

You nibbled on your lip, “Just because Accords 2.0 was a failure…” you trailed off and Bucky scoffed, drumming his metal fingers on the table.

“Why are you here?”

“Listen I get it, you hate me,” you said, “Fine. Not a big deal, I can live with that. But I just- I can help.”

Bucky stared at you as if he was waiting for you to say you were joking, but when you didn’t, he let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re not serious, right?”

“Bucky,” Sam said warningly and he threw his hands up.

“You can’t possibly be entertaining this.”

“I’m just asking what the agency knows, that’s all.”

You heaved a deep sigh, trying your hardest not to show your disappointment on your face. It wasn’t like you expected Bucky to welcome you, but you were at least hoping—

Well.

It didn’t matter what you were hoping, it was very obvious that Bucky would never forgive you.

“They’ve just been keeping tracks on you,” you said, “I don’t think any of them put the clues together, and they can’t touch you even if they did, you’d have to do something first. Especially after the last fail—“

“Oh you mean when they took me in after you lied to me about everything and leashed them on me?” Bucky asked you, “That fail?”

You clicked your tongue, “Yeah. That one.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Bucky.”

“But I’ve been going after different HYDRA officials for the last couple of years, and I’ve spent the last 6 months going over everything we had on them, I know some of their locations. So going after HYDRA leader then? Or his super secret location? Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Forgive me if I’m not in a sharing mood after learning about what a liar you are. As far as you’re concerned, we’re not doing anything.”

“But I’m trying to make amends—“

“Not interested.” Bucky cut you off and you swallowed thickly.

“You’ve seen me fight,” you insisted, “You’ve— you’ve seen how good I am at my job, okay? I just— I swear I won’t say anything to the agency, just let me help.”

Sam looked between you two and turned to Bucky.

“That’s not such a—“

“Don’t say it.”

“Even you have to admit, that’s not a terrible idea.”

“You’d have to be crazy to think you can trust her,” Bucky argued back, “I get that you always want to see the best in people, but you can’t, not with her.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you reminded him and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I know, feel free to leave.”

“Don’t,” Sam told you and Bucky frowned.

“You’re joking.”

“Bucky, she could help.”

“And then turn us in.”

“The agency lied to me about my father, I’m not going to turn you in or do anything to have me manipulated by them again. Whatever the mission is, they won’t know about it, you have my word.”

“Because your word holds any value for me?” Bucky asked you, his voice way too calm and you clenched your jaw.

“The mission doesn’t require a honey trap,” he said when you didn’t answer his rhetorical question, “Thanks for the offer though, Y/N. Go to hell.”

With that, he walked out of the café and you just sat there completely frozen. You could swear your heart weighed a ton in your chest, and your eyes were burning but you quickly blinked the tears back, then shrugged your shoulders.

“That went well.”

“Do you really want to help?” Sam asked after a couple of seconds of silence and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You scoffed a bitter laugh, “Other than apparently signing my own death warrant?” you asked, “I owe him. He doesn’t want to go after me for using him, fine. He still deserves justice. HYDRA destroyed his life, the least I can do is help him get back at them, make them pay.”

Sam raised his brows, “You feel that guilty huh?”

You didn’t have any answer to that, and he took a deep breath.

“Can I trust you?”

“You can,” you murmured, “I want you to, but… I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. Let me rephrase the question, will you betray his trust again?”

There was no hesitation in your voice when you spoke, “I’d rather die.”

Sam held your gaze as if trying to see whether you were sincere or not, then cleared his throat.

“Let me think about it,” he said, “I’m not saying no, okay? Let me think about it and talk with him.”

You nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

He shot you a small smile, then walked out of the café, leaving you alone there. You shut your eyes, leaning your head back and letting out a breath.

“Great,” you muttered, “This should be fun.”

Chapter 25

[hmslusitania]

Paint it Black

@evanbucxley @arrenemris you guys wanted petty, jealous Eddie stuck in an elevator with Taylor during the blackout, right?

Eddie Diaz has been involved in his share of awkward dinners.

This one takes the cake though. It starts with him showing up at Buck’s loft by himself, and Buck opening the door with that stupid puppy-dog confused tilt to his head that makes Eddie want to do something drastic.

“Where’s Ana?” he asks.

“We broke up,” Eddie says. “Figured it would be weird to invite her to dinner after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Buck says, which yeah, Eddie knows because Eddie hadn’t told him yet. “I’m sorry, man.”

Which makes…one of them.

The night gets worse when Taylor shows up with her latest story of her investigation into – Eddie misses the details, but he’s discovered that Taylor’s voice somehow is at the exact right pitch that he can’t quite hear it most of the time. Weird how that works.

Buck, bless his fucking heart, feels none of the tension in the loft. Or if he does, he doesn’t react to it. He stays chipper and upbeat and positive and doesn’t comment when Eddie and Taylor trip over each other to help him with making dinner or pouring drinks or to sit beside him on the couch while the food cooks.

But, like, the spot on the couch beside Buck is Eddie’s spot, and if it’s not Eddie’s it’s Christopher’s.

And Eddie…loses the fight.

Taylor’s tiny, and for just half a second, he entertains the utterly absurd idea of just picking her up and moving her, but it flits out of his head almost as soon as it arrives. It’s quickly followed by an unfortunate realisation that it must be easy as anything for Buck to just pick her up and move her when – which is then immediately erased by the second-hand memory he acquired from Captain Mehta that Buck had been able to just pick Eddie up and toss him into the engine like he was a sack of potatoes – which –

He’s saved when dinner is ready, but he feels Taylor’s eyes on him the whole way through the meal.

Annoyingly, they end up leaving at the same time. Buck and Eddie have a shift in the morning, and Taylor has a story to cut before some deadline or other. Eddie would rather not walk out with her, would rather not share the elevator with her – he briefly considers legging it for the stairs but they’re at the other end of Buck’s floor and the elevator is right there and it would be absolutely blatant what he was doing – but if the alternative is knowing she’s staying the night at Buck’s, he’ll deal with the elevator.

They’re both quiet while the doors slide open, the soft whisper of the brushed stainless-steel brushing against the dust guards the only sound besides the simmering mutual animosity between them. They step into the elevator, which smells vaguely of Pinesol, and Taylor presses the button for the ground floor with a shiny lacquered red nail.

The doors close again and the shimmering, irritable silence fills the space. No elevator music in Buck’s building, which is probably for the best.

“So,” Taylor says as the world’s slowest elevator descends. “Is it personal or are you just jealous?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie says. The elevator has faux wood panelling, not mirrors, so he can’t tell if she’s looking at him or if she’s staring straight ahead like he is.

“You either hate me on a personal level, because I’m me or something,” she says. “Or you hate me because you’re in love with Buck.”

Eddie gets as far as a spluttered, indignant, “I am not in love with—”

And then the elevator lurches. Stops. The lights flicker and then die. The emergency lights do not kick on.

“Well that’s comforting,” Taylor says, dry.

Eddie pulls out his phone. Usually, it’s still connected to Buck’s wifi by the elevator, and the connection’s gone. So it isn’t just the elevator.

“There’s a button in here that calls the fire department, right?” Taylor asks, pulling out her own phone and shining it at the elevator panel. She presses the button that should connect them directly to the department, and nothing happens.

“Depending on how wide the power outage is, it might have knocked out dispatch,” Eddie says.

“Great,” Taylor says. “You’re a firefighter, you can get the doors open, right?”

“With a Halligan and a fully functional shoulder?” Eddie asks. “Sure.”

She huffs. “Do you think it’s just this building or wider?”

“How would I know?” Eddie asks.

“So helpful, thank you.”

“What do you want me to do, Taylor? Use my magical powers of divination to figure out if we’re in a building-wide, block-wide, city-wide, county-wide blackout?” Eddie snaps.

He can’t see her face in the shitty half-light of their respective phone screens, but he hears her roll her eyes.

“It’s because you’re in love with him, right?” she asks.

“For fuck’s sake, Taylor, I’m not in love with—”

“Because he’s in love with you,” she interrupts as though he hasn’t spoken. Eddie’s heart stops. “It’s weird, I’ve never really had to vie for someone’s affections before. I can’t say I’m a fan, but, see, he thinks you aren’t an option.”

“He told you this?” Eddie asks and hopes to God his voice sounds normal because it does not feel like it.

Taylor snorts. “He didn’t have to. Do you guys have any idea what you’re like when you’re around each other? It’s obvious to anyone who even meets you in passing, and I know both of you and have a journalism degree. It’s not difficult math.”

“Then why are you dating him?” Eddie asks, swallowing back the lump that’s just jumped into his throat that feels suspiciously like his heart.

“Because I like him,” Taylor says. “And because I like a challenge.”

Before Eddie can say anything rude about Buck being worth more than a challenge to someone, she sighs.

“I’d say you’re going to have to fight me for him, but it’s not going to be much of a competition,” she says.

“You really think my chances are that bad?” Eddie asks and he hates how sad he sounds, even to his own ears.

Taylor doesn’t get a chance to answer before Eddie’s phone lights up with a picture of Buck and Chris together and Buck’s name in bright letters. In the sudden illumination, he sees the annoyed, resigned expression on her face.

“That answer your question?” she replies, and Eddie answers the phone.

“Hey, did you make it out or are you stuck in the elevator?” Buck asks.

“We’re stuck in the elevator,” Eddie says. “No idea what floor. Maybe three?”

“Cool, don’t go anywhere,” Buck replies and hangs up before Eddie can ask where, exactly, they might go.

An awkward silence hangs in the elevator in the wake of the phone call.

Until, finally, Taylor says, “For what it’s worth, if I had to lose to someone, at least you’re as pretty as I am.”

Eddie is still searching for some kind of response to that – coming up absolutely blank – when the elevator doors slide open. Buck, illuminated by a headlamp, waves at them and pockets his keys.

“You have an elevator key?” Taylor asks while Buck pulls her out.

“Fire marshals and captains get ’em,” Buck says. “They’re standard across production lines.”

“Fire marshals have to give them back,” Eddie points out.

“Eh, when I was a probie, we got an elevator rescue and Bobby told me to go open the doors, and so I stood there trying to pry them open for like five minutes before he walked up to the elevator panel and unlocked them with his key,” Buck says. “Chim and Hen laughed at me for about a month every time we got near an elevator. So when I did my turn as fire marshal, I may have made a copy.”

“Of course you did,” Eddie says. He rolls his eyes and is grateful for the darkness so Buck can’t see exactly how fond he must look.

Taylor catches him, though, and for a tense second, Eddie thinks she’s going to say something about it. But Taylor Kelly is a lot of things, but “quitter” isn’t one of them. It might not be a fair fight, and the outcome might be rigged in Eddie’s favour, but he understands then that she’s going to make him fight for it. Fight for Buck.

No worthier fight, really.

“We should check in, see if they want us on shift early,” Buck says, already pulling his phone out to text or call Bobby.

“And I should go investigate,” Taylor says. “I’m sure my station is missing me.”

“Okay,” Buck says. “Do you want my headlamp for the stairs?”

“I’ve got it, but, thank you,” Taylor says. She stretches on her toes to kiss him goodbye – much more thoroughly than she had when they left Buck’s apartment. She arches an eyebrow at Eddie once she’s let go of Buck and Eddie narrows his eyes right back. “See you boys later.”

She flips on the flashlight on her phone and waltzes off to the stairs.

“We should tell all my neighbours to stay inside,” Buck says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie says, shooting a text to his abuela and Chris to ask them to do the same. He doesn’t know yet if the blackout’s reached their neighbourhood, but it’s a better policy.

“So what did you and Taylor talk about while you were in the elevator together?” Buck asks in between knocking on his neighbours’ doors to announce LAFD please remain inside your homes.

“We, uh, came to an understanding,” Eddie says.

“Oh! Good,” Buck says. He pauses. “What about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie recommends. He nudges Buck with his shoulder and gets a grin in response. “Let’s check in with Bobby and see if they need us or if they recommend we just stay inside and stay safe, too.”

“No one I’d rather weather a lockdown with,” Buck replies, as if the second she stepped into the stairwell, Taylor also disappeared from his head. “Well, except maybe Christopher.”

Eddie laughs, and thinks in Taylor’s direction, may the best person win.

[darling-i-read-it]

Golden Retriever

Leon Kennedy x fem!reader, Ada Wong x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: guns, violence

Author’s Note: literally if I tweaked this it would just be an just a straight up ada wong x reader so I had to add the tag lmao. I hope you enjoy, this was funny to write

Requested: by anon, heyy! can you write someting about re4 leon x reader in which they both are trying to save ashley and ada flirts with reader instead of leon and he gets kinda jealous? through about this and i think i'd be so funny to see his face at ada like "🤨"

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“You are not the first agent I’ve seen here,” Ada mused, walking beside you. You raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“I thought I was the only one that was sent.”

“Looks like they sent in some backup. Like you couldn’t handle it.” You reloaded your gun, checking all your weapons on your body. You even made sure your knife was where it was supposed to be.

“Maybe they sent in someone else to deal with you.” She scoffed, giving you a sly smile. Ada was always aloof and this was no different. She would be here one second and gone the next before you even noticed she was gone. You and Ada had been loose coworkers for years. When you ran into each other, you helped each other. It was a give and take relationship. “Do you know who it is?”

“I do.” She looked like she was reliving a fond memory. “Leon S. Kennedy.”

“Oh yeah, Agent Kennedy, I know of him. Do you guys have a history?” “He’s a puppy dog, endlessly getting in trouble that I have to get him out of,” she mused. “It’s kind of sweet.”

“Oh Ada, you aren’t playing with this poor boy's heart are you?”

“Hey, I told him to let me do my thing, he was the one who insisted on tagging along. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

“Is that because I help you back?”

“Yes it is my love.” She raised her arm, grappling hook raised, and she let herself be taken away by it to the next floor. You rolled your eyes. She would be back when you needed her most. You would have to keep an eye out for this Leon Kennedy though.

===

You ran into him about an hour later as you arrived in the castle's hedge maze. You looked down at it from the floor above, noticing a man running around, shooting down the dogs that were down there. You were impressed. This was the guy Ada had to save?

You made your way down and shot down the last of the dogs. He looked up at you, clearly expecting to see another face, probably wearing a red dress.

“Are you the other agent?” he asked. You nodded, straightening your back.

“Yeah. Why did they send you?”

“They thought you died.” He walked up to you, extending his hand. You shook it. He was handsome. You could see the puppy dog underneath though, Ada was right. “I’m Leon Kennedy. I had Ashley earlier but lost her to this damn castle.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. I know the feeling, I’ve run into my fair share of problems here. Have you met the small annoying man?” He chuckled.

“I have.”

“We have the same goal here, working for the same people.”

“If you’re saying we should work together, I agree,” he said. “The more people I can get to keep an eye on Ashley, the better.” You chuckled and nodded. The two of you took the key Leon had gotten and opened up the next door.

You could hear Ada in the corner of the room. You noticed the sound of her shoes. You didn’t bother raising your gun as she tried to disarm Leon. He got her gun on the floor and he had a knife to her.

“Bit of advice. Try using knives next time, works better for close encounters,” he said smoothly. You scoffed. She stepped away.

“I see you ran into the resident golden retriever,” Ada said, turning to you. You shrugged.

“He’s more capable with his hands than you said.”

“Oh well that was quick,” she said slyly. You rolled your eyes, smiling a bit.

“You two know each other?” Leon asked. “Are you working for Wesker too Y/N?” You shook your head.

“I think Ada and I have a similar relationship to the one you had her have,” you said. Ada shrugged.

“You were first,” she said, pointing to you. “You’ve got more grit in you and you’re better with a gun,” she complimented. You gave her a small dramatic bow. Leon looked between the two of you, confused.

“That’s flattering.”

“I have things to do,” she said, dropping her glasses on the ground. “I’ll see you two around.” There was a small contained explosion and then she slipped away again. You weren’t surprised. When you turned to Leon, it looked like he was. He blinked twice, eyebrows furrowed.

“What was that?”

“Ada. I thought you knew her.”

“I do just usually…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Nevermind.” You nodded and started to walk forward into the castle.

“Alright. You got my back Kennedy?” “Yeah.”

===

You sat on the back of the jetski Ada had given you and Leon the keys too. He was driving steadily in front of you, Ashley just behind you. You had been going for about 10 minutes away from the island that Ada had just blown up.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist. You had gotten rather close in your shared near death experiences.

“You know,” Ashley mused. “I cannot for the life of me figure out if Leon is dating that lady, if you are, or if you’re dating each other.” Leon chuckled. You shook your head, giggling gently.

“Who said we weren’t a throuple?” you asked, laughing. Her head flew back, giggling.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” Leon said. “I thought we had a good thing going but it seems like Ada may have taken my opportunity.”

“Don’t you worry Kennedy,” you said, putting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m a sucker for the golden retriever vibe.”

Resident Evil Tag List: @ceruleanrainblues,@chloe-online, @alexxavicry