#But (Clearly) Neither of Them Like to Talk About it

[buckysouvenir]

bucky’s new uniform got you feeling all types of way. warning: 18+ content! ps.: (thunderbolts* spoilers… kind of. idk marvel spoiled everything already)

The low hum of the coffee machine and the scent of strong roast filled the apartment, but neither of those things held your attention.

Bucky Barnes—your boyfriend, your weakness, your absolute problem—was standing in the hallway, zipping up the sleek new suit that hugged every inch of him like a secret weapon.

You’d seen him in a lot of things: bloodied fatigues, loose cotton shirts, towels (God bless towels). But this?

This New Avengers suit?

It was practically rude.

“You’re doing it again,” Bucky called over his shoulder without looking. “That thing where you stare like I’m the last slice of cake.”

You didn’t even try to deny it this time.

“Cake doesn’t make my thighs clench,” you muttered, not quite quietly enough.

That got his attention.

Bucky turned, his vibranium arm glinting faintly in the morning light, and smirked. “Clench, huh?”

You sipped your coffee, legs curled under you on the couch. You were in one of his shirts—big, soft, still smelling like him—and not much else.

“You look good,” you said, voice calm even though your heart was picking up pace. “Like… absurdly good. That suit should come with a warning label.”

He chuckled, walking toward you with lazy confidence. “You think the New Avengers want a guy who’s late on his first day?”

You leaned back slightly, resting your coffee on the table as he stopped in front of you.

“I think,” you said, tugging on the front of his suit, “they’d understand if you had to deal with… an emergency at home.”

“Oh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his voice had dropped a note lower. “What kind of emergency are we talking about, doll?”

You grinned, fingers sliding down his chest, tracing the grooves of his suit. “The kind that involves a very, very turned-on girlfriend… who woke up extra needy today and really wants to make out with her super-soldier boyfriend before he goes off to play hero.”

His breath hitched, subtle but noticeable. “Make out, huh?”

You were already pulling him down by the collar before he could tease you further.

The kiss started deep—hot, urgent, greedy. The kind that made your toes curl and your mind go blank. He tasted like peppermint and coffee and the kind of safety that still managed to get your heart racing.

His gloved hands found your waist, gripping tight even through the thick fabric of his suit, and you arched into him with a soft moan.

“I just finished getting dressed,” he murmured against your lips.

“You can get dressed again,” you whispered, already fumbling with the belt at his waist.

“Babe…” he warned, half-hearted at best.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” you smirked, slipping a hand between his armor and the waistband of his pants. “Use them wisely.”

His lips crashed back into yours.

In a blur, he had you laid out on the couch, his armored body hovering over yours like he was afraid to crush you—but desperate to be close. You could feel the heat of him through his suit, the tension in every controlled movement. It was sexy. Too sexy.

He kissed down your jaw, across your throat, mouthing at the sensitive skin just beneath your ear as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You really like the suit that much?” he murmured against your skin, voice gravelly with want.

“I like you in anything,” you gasped. “But this? This is some next-level roleplay fantasy come to life.”

He laughed softly, his lips brushing your collarbone. “Remind me to wear it next time we’re actually alone for more than five minutes.”

You arched your back, pressing your body against his. “You’ve got five left.”

He groaned, rocking against you, clearly debating whether to keep his pants on or risk it.

You didn’t give him a chance to decide.

Your hand slid down, confidently, tugging at the waistband of his suit pants with enough urgency that it left no room for doubt.

“Y/N…” he rasped, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch beside your head, his body taut with restraint. “You really want to do this right now?”

You looked up at him, pupils blown wide, heat blooming low in your stomach.

“I need you,” you said simply. “Like this. In the suit. Right now.”

That was all it took.

With a muffled curse, he pulled back just enough to shove his pants down, his cock already hard and leaking at the tip. You reached for him, wrapping your fingers around him in a slow, practiced stroke that made him curse again, louder this time.

“Shit—doll, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’ll make it quick,” you teased, pulling him back down for a kiss, deep and hot, while you hooked your legs around his waist and guided him right where you wanted.

“Wait—” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye, breath ragged. “Are you—?”

You nodded, voice thick with need. “I’m good. I want you. Please, Bucky.”

He groaned again, and then he was pressing forward, sliding into you in one smooth, perfect thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs.

“Oh my God—” you gasped, arching under him.

He filled you so completely it was dizzying, and for a moment, neither of you moved—just breathing, tangled, shaking with restraint.

Then he started to move.

Slow at first, deep and steady, each thrust sending sparks shooting through your veins. The cool metal of his vibranium hand gripped your thigh tightly while his flesh hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could mouth at your throat.

You raked your nails down the back of his suit, helpless to stay quiet as your hips rocked up to meet his.

“Faster,” you whispered, breath hot against his ear. “Don’t hold back, Buck. I can take it.”

Something in him snapped at that.

He growled low in his throat and obeyed—his pace increasing, his thrusts rougher now, deeper, desperate. The couch creaked under the rhythm of your bodies, and the sound of skin against skin, broken only by breathy gasps and whispered curses, filled the room.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, sweat beading at his temple. “So warm. So perfect.”

You tightened around him at the praise, a high whimper escaping your lips as your body started to tremble.

“Bucky— I’m close—”

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, angling his hips just right, hitting that spot that made you cry out.

Your orgasm crashed over you with a blinding intensity, your back arching, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure tore through you in waves. You clenched around him so tightly he nearly lost control right then.

“Fuck—gonna come—” he choked out, slamming into you once, twice more before he buried himself deep and spilled inside you with a groan that sounded like your name.

He collapsed against you, panting, both of you sweaty and shaking and completely wrecked.

For a long moment, you just lay there—tangled, trembling, hearts racing.

Eventually, he shifted enough to look down at you, brushing your damp hair back with the softest touch.

“Well,” he murmured with a grin, “guess I’m really gonna be late now.”

You laughed breathlessly, cupping his face. “Totally worth it.”

He kissed you again, slow this time, tender.

Then he glanced at the clock and winced. “They are never gonna let me live this down.”

“Tell them your girlfriend has needs,” you said with a smirk.

He stood reluctantly, tugging his pants back up, adjusting his suit—and shooting you a look that was part exasperated, part adoring, and entirely his.

“You’re insatiable,” he muttered.

You winked. “Only for you, Sergeant.

[vespidclan]

Um hi I’m gonna talk about 404 and the works 🚶‍♀️ this ended up longer than I expected oops

What is she?

If we’re going to talk about how 404 can do the things she can do, we need to first talk about WHAT she is. 404 is… not just a moth? She clearly is, but she is also the ‘player’! When she got corrupted by the game, she was also given every ounce of power from the game. This left the game pretty much ‘dead’ and her in control, which is why Clangen.exe and the Vespidclan file is still running despite being broken. Basically, her having 100% of power meant that her and the system have ‘merged into one’, but since the system was corrupting and breaking apart as Moththorn went against her programing… That same corruption took over her. Then came the metamorphosis ‘rebirth’ symbolism yada yada yada aaaaaand that’s how 404 was born! 🎉🎉

And being the player, she can do ANYTHING in the game! Aside from creating, but ANYTHING! This means she can skip moons and go back to previous moons (time travel… inevitably caused Heartflicker’s injury), give cats injuries and conditions (basically giving Snakevalley recurring shock and whatever goes on in OOB), playing around with death settings (“dead”: false while letting their “dead_moons” go on and on, keeping the them dead but with conscious still intact so they can feel paralyzing agony *cough* what she does to cats like Spark), and let me tell you this is just scratching the surface.

Why does 404 appear different sometimes?

Shapeshifting? Form-changing? Neither of those! What it really is that she’s splitting her conscious around into different vessels/copies of herself that she can manipulate at will. It sounds complex, but trust me it won’t be after I explain it like this—She’s pretty much just multiplying herself so she can easily communicate with the cats in-game. Think of it like copying and pasting but without it being an exact replica.

To do that she needs some kind of source in the game that lacks much organism code-wise but still able to move around, so there’s room to fit a bit of her code in it. Whether it’s some kind of animal or a manifestation she made herself. Vinepaw probably explains it better than me.

So these guys that have shown up in the comics are her, or maybe 80% of her. She can control them and they have her same thoughts, so it’s basically her with a different identity. One big difference is that her shadow copies can only appear as a ‘hallucination’ and directly in the mind, but mini moth 4 is a real physical vessel that any cat can see, it’s just her text box that’s hidden from a few cats. She grabbed a poor little moth, stuffed her code into it, and now it’s a free new body to possess. The only reason she’s doing this is because Vinepaw’s mind is a little tricky than others, which we’ll discuss later on.

“Can’t 404 just appear normally like herself?” In-game? Nah, she exists in the Out Of Bounds area of the game, which is restricted zone no cat in-game can enter unless they go far enough to bypass it. 404 can barely get out of it herself.

But there’s times where she, her actual self, HAS appeared to cats like Stonepaw or Snakevalley, but only as a hallucination-that-feels-super-realistic-and-real. This would be whenever I draw her in her red and black colors or it’s just straight up her in all of her massive towering glory.

“Why can’t she just do this all the time instead of making copies?” A lady like her is too busy managing OOB and terrorizing the cats there! She’d only show herself if it was a top priority to her, like pressuring Snakie or finding Vinny.

How can she lurk into the mind?

She can’t go to the cats in-game. We all know that. The solution? Enter the mind! The best way I can explain it is she’s ‘hacking’ into the mindscape with all the knowledge she has so that they can see/envision her presence. Sometimes they aren’t too severe like just seeing vague glitches or her text boxes, or they’re very severe where she’s literally in front of you. Sounds easy for an evil moth goddess right?

Well rummaging in the mind isn’t… It’s most easiest when the cat is asleep, has already seen visions of ‘the fourth wall’ prior, or when the cat is most vulnerable. Other times, she needs to really intensely seep into the cat’s mind with, breaking through the barriers intense. Every psyche is different!

Some really good examples come from Stone and Vine! Stone saw 404 while she was just a small lil kit. After that, she’d constantly have nightmares and scary visions of 404. 404 quickly caught on and decided to keep Stone ‘in line’ via stalking so she can have ‘use’ to her plans later, but we all know that that didn’t work out. Vine meanwhile is able to ‘block’ 404 from his dreams, because all he thinks about 24/7 is cupcakes and rainbows. 404 actually managed to get to him later on, but she needed to actually be there than to use a silly copy, because it wouldn’t be very effective.

If she can’t interact with the cats in-game, how is she dragging deceased cats into OOB?

That’s because she isn’t… physically anyways. What she IS doing is coding them out of Starclan and into Out Of Bounds the very moment they die. It isn’t that scary, unless you see it happening yourself. Another trick of the mind that can unfortunately happen if you stand by her radius… but that’s very rare! ;)

How does coding work?

It’s like this

Okay but really… Coding is just what you and I could do on the computer—changing up stuff! Editing, fixing, modding, she can do it all! (apart from… yk…) It’s actually super self explanatory so there won’t be much to go over.

She uses her dexterous claws on these! These are the files, the source of every cats life and blood… The cats in OOB call them ‘The Towers’, cuz these things are taaaaaaallll. They do have their own special area in OOB, which is farther away from the actual place and are set in a ‘black void’, but she can spawn them in when she needs to make a quick ‘fix’.

404 can also take apart the files and rearrange them however she wants. And she can ‘spawn’ pieces of the files to her hand so she can edit them portably without having to climb or bring the whole tower with her.

Usually when she gets her hands on a file it will slowly (or quickly depending on the damage done) start chipping away. It isn’t all that bad, but once it’s taken full effect and broke so much of it, then the cat is also now ‘broken’. Take Heartie for example—She changed her trait from bloodthirsty to loyal, except 404 hadn’t changed it quite perfectly, so now she has a trait that ‘doesn’t exist’ within the code.

Plus like, you can take a look at the Moththorn file and see it’s completely demolished. Wonder why.

That’s pretty much it all for now. Hope you learned something new about how 404 works and I definitely hope this clears some stuff up 🩶

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Asking them if they'd let you get them pregnant...part 5?

CW: pregnancy talk, a little suggestive, a little angst(?), drug mention(mushrooms)

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

A/N: I thought about doing some for the ladies where you ask them to get you pregnant since I've started these crack posts but the only ladies I actually like are Beidou and Rosaria soooo I'd probably only do it if requested :o

-------

Aventurine's expression doesn't waver as you ask him if he'd let you get him pregnant using the little dark pink vile in your hands. But despite how calm he looks you're more than aware he's putting up a mask one he uses when he's been caught off guard.

"Now hold on there, my dear lover. Who said anything about me carrying our future child? Why don't you carry them while I take care of you instead?" But you don't budge even commenting on how lovely he would be pregnant with your child explaining how the vile works.

He sighs leaning into the opulent red couch across from you eyeing the vile. It's the only indication that he's a little nervous about this. But as he processes how it would work he recovers a glint in his eye that says he's thought of something good. He takes a single poker chip off the coffee table between you and begins to flip it in the air a clear sign he's come up with a full proof strategy.

"Alright then, my dear lover. Since we're both interested in having children but neither if us can agree on who will carry..." He tugs the dip of his shirt just to see your eyes linger there. This'll be too easy. "How about we make this more interesting?"

Aventurine flips the poker chip between his fingers and hums a smirk on his lips.

"If you win seven different games against me in a row, I'll drink that little vile and bear your children. But..." His hypnotizing eyes trailing your form from top to bottom landing on your lowest part of your belly lingering there then flickering up to meet your eyes.

"If I win. You will be the one drinking that vile and you will be the one getting pregnant." He stretches out his hand for you to shake exuding absolute confidence. "Sounds like a deal?" You shake his hand firmly and the little smirk on his face gets just that much wider.

There's no way he's going to lose.

...He loses every game spectacularly, the odds that should have been in his favor failed him no matter which game you played his composure faltering bit by bit with every loss.

It isn't until the final game, one he rigged a long time ago specifically so he wouldn't lose in thw event he was in a pinch that he silently accepts his fate seeing your winning hand. There's just no beating you and clearly the universe thinks so too.

"Well then..." He lifts the vile in cheers. "Bottoms up." Oh there was a bottom up that night alright.

Kazuha blinks rapidly shaking his head and sitting up from your resting spot on a grass hill overlooking the sea in Inazuma.

"D-Did I hear you right? I know we've talked about children but..." You nod confidently asking him again that if you could would he let you get him pregnant. He sighs. You must be having one of your moments where you ask him something odd in hopes of messing with his composure. He smiles fondly catching a falling leaf.

"If there were a way for us to have a child in the way you are suggesting I would not mind. Though you and I both know that is not possible-" He places his lips on the leaf ready to blow "-Yes it is." "Eh?"

His wide red eyes search your face for answers and when he finds complete seriousness and a strange sakura pink vile in your hand the leaf slips from his hands in shock. He feels his face flush as you explain how the vile works.

"You-" He snorts the entire situation ridiculous."You always know how to make me lose my composure. Though..." He sets the vile onto the grass and takes your hands in his.

"Why don't we wait just a bit more before having children? This isn't something to take lightly after all. And when we're finally prepared..." He leans in to whisper into your ear. "I'll be in your care."

Xiao's expression doesn't change too much after hearing your question except the light pinch of his brow. He sighs shaking his head.

"Ridiculous...you should know that the only known adeptus to have changed their form so readily is Rex Lapis. I cannot alter my form so easily though I do know of some adeptal arts that could do so..." You ask him again if he would be willing and he shakes his head again firmly.

"No. It would be far too dangerous. Not to me but to our child." His looks down opening and closing his hands into fists. "Even if it could be altered and capbable of life this body that has dealt countless slaughter is...unsuitable."

You take his hands in yours and nod in understanding and ask if it'd be any different if you carried instead. He pauses a little hesitant but he nods slowly. "It would be safer for them but..." He stares at your linked hands, hands that have held him so gently all this time never faltering.

"Let me think about this and if you are certain I shall prepare."

Tighnari and Cyno look up at you from the floor where they were playing TCG to pass the time waiting out the thunder storm processing your question.

"Have you raided my mushroom stash again? I told you not to consume any hallucinogenic mushrooms without any guidance unless you want a repeat of five months ago!" He stands up checking your eyes, ears, pulse, and posture while Cyno takes in your form.

"I don't think they've consumed anything and if they did they are remarkably sober." He comments standing up as Tighnari runs a hand down his face realizing your fine.

"Yeah, they're fine, unfortunately they're just crazy, dumb, or both." "Oi!" Tighnari pats your head shaking his head in disappointment. "I'm sure we're all more than aware that our bodies aren't exactly compatible to make children in the way you're determined to."

"We all want children but aren't you thinking about this at all?" You nod your head confidently lifting a rather old tome out of your bag. " I have thought about it that's how I found a way to make this possible."

Tighnari crosses his arms and Cyno joins his side mirroring his posture as they stare at you equally curious and doubtful to the tomes dubious contents. They follow you Tighnari's desk and huddle around it with you as you turn to the section where you found this supposed method.

As they read the pages their skepticism fades into disbelief as you pull out records of this technique actually working and the healthy children that were produced. Tighnari and Cyno look between each other and at you then back to each other. Cyno breaks the silence lifting up a TCG card.

"Best two out of three? Whoever loses carries." "Forget your card games that just means I'm going to be the one carrying them regardless!"

"Ah, so it is a-parent that you'll lose?"

"...Get me my damn deck."

Tighnari does lose but he did pretty well considering they were evenly matched until the final round. He groans as Cyno attempts to make another joke as he rereads the passage making a list of all the ingredients you will all need to gather in order to create life within him.

Now just how will he tell Collei?

[honeydippedfiction]

Angel x Joe shy prompt “So deeply in love that it almost makes their friends uncomfortable to witness.” Mixed with “Inside jokes that literally no one understands.” Mixed with “Feathery forehead kisses.”

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So deeply in love that it almost makes their friends uncomfortable to witness, Inside jokes that literally no one understands, & Feathery forehead kisses.

Joe Burrow x Angel

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Joe Burrow and Angel had always existed in their own world. It wasn’t something they planned; it simply happened. From the moment their paths first crossed on the LSU campus, something electric sparked between them. Angel had caught Joe’s eye with her effortless smile, her quiet confidence that somehow commanded attention without trying, and a presence that felt like home the moment he looked at her. He’d never believed in love at first sight, but with Angel, it had felt like an undeniable certainty.

Back then, Joe had been laser-focused on football—his final year at LSU, the looming NFL draft, everything feeling like a set of weights pressing down on him. Angel had been the calm in the storm, her laughter and light a source of peace amidst the chaos. But as the seasons passed, and their relationship deepened, something extraordinary happened. Their connection blossomed into something rare, something neither of them had ever known before.

Their love had grown, subtle and unspoken, like the slow unfurling of petals on a flower. It was organic—rooted in late-night talks about the future, impromptu adventures to random places, and the quiet moments of just being present with one another. Joe had always known he wanted to be great, to leave his mark on the world, but with Angel by his side, it felt like he had already found his greatest victory.

They’d been together since Joe’s final year at LSU, before the bright lights of the NFL had even begun to flicker in the distance. Back then, it had been simpler—just two people navigating life together, learning what it meant to be with someone who truly understood. But now? Now, everything had changed. Their love wasn’t just about being together; it was about knowing each other in ways that felt both intimate and infinite. It was the kind of love that made everything else fade to the background. And sometimes, their friends and loved ones felt like they were intruding on something too beautiful to touch.

It was a Saturday evening, and the usual crew had gathered at Joe and Angel’s house. The backyard was alive with the crackle of a firepit, the soft glow of the flames illuminating the familiar faces of their closest friends. The air was warm, tinged with the promise of summer. The sound of laughter filled the space, mixing with the soft clink of glasses and the rustle of conversation.

But in the midst of the crowd, Joe and Angel seemed to exist in their own little bubble. Every so often, their eyes would meet across the circle, an unspoken exchange passing between them—something soft, something electric. Their shared language, an understanding forged over years of being together, always found its way to the surface. They didn’t need words, just the quiet looks, the tiny gestures, the inside jokes that no one else could possibly understand.

Ja'Marr Chase, sitting across the fire from them, leaned back in his chair with a grin, clearly amused but also slightly uncomfortable. “Okay, okay, we get it, you two are in love,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But can you please stop speaking that weird language that only you guys get for like, five minutes?”

Joe’s lips curled into a smile, that easy, effortless smile that Angel had fallen for all those years ago. His eyes caught hers, and a warmth spread through his chest. There was something in that look—a quiet secret, a language only they spoke. Angel, ever the mischief-maker, raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching as she reached for Joe’s hand.

“Oh, it’s not weird,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful confidence. “It’s an ancient dialect. Passed down through the generations.”

Joe nodded solemnly, playing along. “Exactly. We’ve spent years perfecting it... passed down from the wise elders of... the couch.”

The rest of the group exchanged confused glances. It wasn’t the first time Joe and Angel had thrown out a cryptic comment that no one else understood, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But to them, it wasn’t strange—it was just another layer of their connection, a language created over countless inside jokes and shared moments.

Ja'Marr squinted at them, clearly baffled. “Wait. Are you seriously telling me you have an actual language?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Joe replied with a straight face. “It’s incredibly complex. Takes years of training to master.”

Angel leaned in closer to him, her voice softening into a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “It’s called the ‘Couchian Code,’” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke the absurdity of it all. “Once you’re initiated, you get a lifetime pass to... absurdity.”

Joe’s face lit up with an impish grin. “And once you’re in, you get the most sacred of rewards,” he said, his voice turning serious, before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The kiss was tender, as light as a feather brushing her skin.

Angel closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the simplicity of it. It wasn’t much, just a quiet gesture that spoke volumes to them both. It was their thing. And she had always teased Joe about it, how no one else could ever understand how something so small could carry so much meaning.

“Forehead kisses,” she murmured, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she pulled back to look up at him, her eyes glimmering with affection and mischief.

Joe chuckled, giving her a knowing look. “Only for you, baby.”

Angel grinned, then tilted her head, giving him a mischievous wink. “Just like I only give you the perfect amount of sass.”

Across the fire, Tee Higgins let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head. “I’m lost, man. Like, I get that you’re in love and all, but these moments? They’re getting weird.”

Angel threw her head back and laughed, her voice light and melodic. “Oh, it’s not weird,” she said, reaching out and giving Joe’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You just haven’t been initiated.”

Joe’s grin widened, his fingers still laced with hers. “Once you’re part of the club, you get the full experience.”

Tee raised his hands in mock defeat. “Alright, alright. My brain’s hurting just trying to keep up with you two.”

The inside joke lingered in the air, like a riddle no one could solve, but Joe and Angel didn’t care if anyone else understood. They didn’t need anyone else to get it; all that mattered was that they understood each other. The rest of the world could fade into the background.

As the evening wore on, Joe and Angel found themselves drifting back into their own world, the noise of the crowd around them becoming distant. Angel turned to him, a playful glint in her eyes. “Remember the time we tried to make ‘Pineapple’ a thing?”

Joe froze for a moment, his expression turning mock-horrified. “Oh God, don’t remind me. That was a disaster.”

Angel’s grin spread wider as she leaned in closer. “But it wasn’t terrible. It was perfectly ridiculous. Pineapple. The way it sounds. The random way we just decided it needed to mean something.”

Joe shook his head, his lips curling into a smirk. “You and your absurd ideas,” he whispered, leaning in to speak against her ear. “Pineapple... means, ‘I’m going to make you laugh so hard, you’ll forget what you were even talking about.’”

Angel burst into laughter, the sound rich and pure, and Joe’s heart swelled with affection. It was moments like this, these silly, meaningless exchanges, that made their love feel so effortlessly beautiful. It wasn’t just about the big gestures or declarations—it was the little things, the private moments that no one else could ever replicate.

“Pineapple,” she said again, as if the word were magic itself, unlocking more laughter, more ridiculousness.

Joe repeated it with a grin, “Pineapple.” He leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead—this one lingering just a little longer, slow and deliberate, like it carried everything they had built together: the quiet understanding, the shared memories, the deep, unspoken connection that had been growing between them for years.

Angel closed her eyes as she melted into the kiss, her heart beating in rhythm with his. “I think pineapples are officially our thing,” she whispered against his lips, a teasing smile pulling at her mouth as she pulled back to look at him.

Joe smiled softly, his hand cupping her cheek. “Only we could make pineapples an inside joke,” he said, his voice a quiet promise.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought or said. It wasn’t about grand gestures or big speeches—it was the small, perfect moments: the ridiculous inside jokes, the feathery kisses, the language they had built that no one else could understand. They had everything they needed, right there, in those simple, intimate exchanges.

“Pineapple,” Angel whispered, her forehead resting gently against his once more.

“Pineapple,” Joe echoed, his lips brushing her head in a soft, feather-light kiss. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Their world was theirs alone.

[sageandred]

I've seen 1 too many posts calling Eddie toxic.

In my opinion, ONE of the disparities between these 2-person fights that always cause people to jump the gun and "poor baby-ing" Buck, is non-shippers putting Eddie in a position to be viewed as a current romantic partner vs a friend (as he is now). Because why do either Eddie or Buck have to be in the wrong for a very normal fight when emotions are heightened after a traumatic loss? Buck IS being selfless, but he's always been a bit in his own head, not thinking how what he does and says affects others (ex: the Tommy morning after argument). And Eddie is RIGHTFULLY hurt in the culmination of all of his grief, but he is bad at expressing his feelings and communicating so it comes out in a blowout due to bottling his emotions up; he is not the villian for this. Neither of them are (this is the duality of their personalities and complex emotions). Eddie is not his boyfriend and he doesn't have to coddle him in how he calls him out on stuff. Why does this fandom always have to jump to toxic vs healthy behavioral patterns and labeling relationships abus!ve when none of them are awful people as if raising your voice in heightened stress or kissing someone when they're flirting is a red flag like it's a PSA for "how to maintain boundaries"? And.....

Because I want to talk about the Buddie fight

-> like, am I going crazy here?? because I think Eddie's reaction to Buck actually showed he cares about him. 1) He noticed Buck dealing with things and bottling things up since the funeral. 2) He's accused of "tiptoeing" around Buck's feelings, but he's actually taking note of the last time he told Buck he was going to Texas and being considerate of his feelings....at an emotional time. And he's not wrong (and even Oliver has said this about Buck) - "You make it all about you." .... This is part of the duality of Buck's traits: He IS selfless, but he is also self-focussed because a) we've seen it in 8x09 "Sob Stories" when he makes a scene at Eddie moving in front of the 118 to how he ends up subletting Eddie's house and b) he is so caught up in people not talking to him that he doesn't have the self-awareness to realize he hasn't talked to people, himself. If Bobby was here, he would've told him and guided him to make better decisions to protect his peace and think rationally about this.

It's not a coincidence that Buck is thinking, Eddie doesn't talk to me; nobody's talking to me, and Eddie drops a line that says "nobody knows how to talk to YOU about it." Because he's dealing with his emotions too by bottling them up, yet placing the responsibility and blame on other people for holding in their emotions. Buck's gonna break at some point, he just hasn't let himself yet because he's purposefully distracting with other people's grief.

3) Buck finally admits he's sad Bobby's dead, but he rationalizes it on being an understandable response when his conversations with Eddie and the priest highlight irritation in other people staying closed-off. Buck is doing the same thing he's upset with other people for doing: He's not talking... But then he's justifying it with a simple jab, "sorry I'm sad Bobby's dead." Is that not what Eddie is doing - not talking and keeping his sadness inside? Is this not exactly what Eddie is talking about in saying "the trials and tribulations of Evan Buckley" ? This explains the reasoning of Eddie's anger in "you're not the only one that lost him;" they are ALL dealing with losing someone, frustrations, and the bottling up of emotions. I watched it live and that kitchen interaction was in no way leading to physical violence; trust me. Eddie is not violent. He is so frustrated because Buck is clearly "not talking about it" (and he knows Buck means well), but he(Buck) can't see the hardship and difficulty of expressing their own grief on the rest of the 118....the same way Buck experiences hardship and difficulty in his personal grief and lonliness.

Buck has a way of caring so much for other people's problems but in that there's also externalizing and making himself the center of these problems; it doesn't make him a bad person and it doesn't take away from his intentioned selflessness (it's just a part of his character that requires emotional growth).

[livingdreams97]

Wednesday Addams -- "The wolf in my bed" (Part 4)

Wednesday Addams x Male reader/oc

Summary: The new girl at Nevermore Academy is forced to live with a person who is the complete opposite of herself. But what will happen when the brother of said roommate has a personality similar to Wednesday's?

Words: 6.767

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POV You

I walk through the school hallways, listening to everyone talking about the dance and what they're going to wear. I can't help but feel a little envious, since everyone has a partner in some way or another, and I'm completely alone.

Which makes me rethink my presence at the dance, since I don't want to go alone and have to watch all the couples having a good time.

My biggest reason for not wanting to go to the dance is the presence of the goth girl and her partner together. As much as Xabier was my first friend, I have to admit that we haven't seen eye to eye on many things lately.

Eugene: Y/n! - I hear them calling me, so I stop walking and turn around, seeing the boss of the bees running towards me .

When he reaches me, he rests his hands on his knees and begins to breathe unevenly. I frown a little worriedly, seeing that a couple of minutes have passed and he's still just as choked up.

Y/n: Are you okay?- I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder. -Do you need me to take you to the infirmary or something?- I asked, receiving a negative response.

Eugene: Just .. one more minute .- he asks me showing me his index finger.

Y/n: All the time you need.- I assure him, amused by his attitude.

Little by little he regains his breath, standing up straight and looking at me with a rather strange smile.

Eugene: I wanted to ask you if by any chance, you know if anyone has invited Enid to the dance or not? - he asks me with obvious interest.

Y/n: I don't know if anyone invited her or not.- I shake my head, somewhat amused at seeing her eyes wide open. -But I can assure you that she most likely already has a date for the dance.- I admit with a small grimace at the disappointment on his face.

Eugene: Oh, too bad.- he says, clearly upset. -I just wanted to be sure, but at least I have Wednesday to keep me company and take us on an adventure into the woods.- he tells me excitedly and I look at him in confusion.

Y/n: Wednesday?- I ask to make sure I didn't hear him wrong.

Eugene: Yeah. - He nods with a smile. - Since neither of us had a partner, we talked and agreed to use the distraction of the dance to escape to the woods. - He tells me in a whisper so no one else could hear.

Y/n: Eugene, I don't know how to tell you this... - I try to find a delicate way to tell him the truth, but I can't find the way. - But Wednesday has a date with Xabier and she'll go to the dance with him.-- I inform him, somewhat hurt by the words coming out of my mouth.

Eugene: But that's not possible.- he immediately shakes his head. -We talked about it this morning, and she herself proposed the plan.- he says with a voice filled with sadness.

Y/n: I spoke with her yesterday afternoon about the dance. She told me she was going to the Raven and as far as I know, her plan is still on. - I confirm in more detail. - Maybe you misunderstood her and she meant another day?- I try to be logical, but I also find myself somewhat confused.

Just yesterday I spoke to Wednesday, and she told me she was going to the dance. That same night, Enid texted me saying she felt sorry for me and that she'd found out Xabier would be her date for the dance, not me.

So if Wednesday didn't end up going to the dance, I'm sure my sister would have found out by now and told me right away. But that wasn't the case, so I understand that her plan to go to the dance with my friend is still on and that Eugene may have misunderstood her.

Eugene: But, but .. - he tries to say something but is unable to finish the sentence.

Y/n: Sorry, Eugene.- I apologize with a grimace, feeling guilty and a little sad for being the one who tells him that I won't go to the forest with his clubmate.

Eugene: Then I'll go alone.- he tells me firmly and I open my eyes worried for him.

Y/n: Are you crazy?- I asked, shaking my head. -You can't go into the woods alone at night, much less when a monster is on the loose.- I assured him, worried that something would happen.

Eugene: I'm going to the monster's cave with or without Wednesday.- he assures me with a somewhat worrying conviction.

Y/n: You're not going to go into the forest alone to look for something related to the monster.- I deny, looking at the curly-haired boy as if he had two heads.

Eugene: I'm going to go, no matter what you say.- he says to end our conversation and taking three steps away from me .

Y/n: Wait!- I shout, mentally scolding myself for the stupidity that's about to come out of my mouth.  -I'll go with you.- I say quickly, not wanting him to go into the forest alone.

Eugene: Really?- he asks me with an excited gesture.

Y/n: Yeah.- I nod with a sigh. - Anyway, I don't have a date for the Raven and I was considering not going.- I explain with a grimace on my lips.

Eugene: That's great. - He jumps up and down in excitement and I glare at him. - I mean, not that you don't have a partner, you know, that ... that 's not... - he tries to explain nervously.

Y/n: Calm down.- I ask him in a serious tone and he immediately shuts up. -What time are we going to the forest? - I ask him tiredly, wanting to go to my room and lie down in bed until next year.

Eugene: 7 at the entrance?- he asks thoughtfully. -It's the perfect time, since almost everyone will already be at the Raven and the few missing ones will be arriving. That will give us the perfect opportunity to escape unseen.- he explains with conviction.

Y/n: It's awesome for me.- I nod and start taking a few steps back. -See you later then.- I say, ending our conversation and turning around, heading towards my bedroom.

Eugene: Come here dressed in black!- he exclaims when I'm already a little far away and give him a thumbs-up over my shoulder.

I walk toward my bedroom, my mind racing, thinking about what I'm going to do tonight and what the Raven entails. But mostly, the fact that Wednesday is going to the dance with Xabier.

I mean, I didn't even know she tolerated him enough to consider him a friend, let alone ask him to go to the dance.

The only time Wednesday ever spoke about Xabier was when she showed me the drawings he'd made and about the possibility that he knew something about the monster. I've also only seen them together once, and that was when they completely ignored my existence after discovering the monster was human.

So I'm not able to understand why out of all the students at Nevermore , she chose Xavier as her date for the dance.

And I can understand even less the moment when she was the one who asked him to go to the dance, not the other way around.

But my biggest doubt in this whole situation is the thought that someone like Wednesday, who sees any kind of social event as unnecessary, irrelevant, absurd, pointless, and a waste of time, decides that the Raven is worth it and decides to invite someone to be her date?

Besides, it's not just me saying this or believing that 's how she sees it. It's just that from the moment she learned of the Raven 's existence, she's been very vocal about the absurdity of social events and her opposition to them.

So I don't fully understand what could have changed in just a few days, so that her vision and opinion on something as simple as a dance could change.

And why do I care so much? Why am I giving so much thought and importance to something that's not in my hands? Why?

Wednesday POV

Since Xabier has discovered that I suspect him and that the only reason I asked him to go to the dance with me was so he wouldn't catch me, I don't need to go to the dance anymore.

Which is perfect, since I won't have to endure the other students, the blinding lights, the horrible conventional noise they call music, and pretending to be interested in my dance partner when said interest is practically nonexistent.

Or at least, there's no romantic or friendly interest. The only interest I have in him is my mind's interest in knowing his relationship with the monster and the fact that his shed is full of drawings of it.

Although I've redirected the focus of my investigation, given the events and the fact that I won't be attending the dance with Xabier anymore. My absence from said event allows me to do something more productive, and that will be returning to the monster's cave in search of more clues with Eugene.

So I prepare for the night, putting on my normal clothing for nighttime expeditions and efficiently tying the laces of my black boots.

I sling my black bag over my shoulder, starting to pack everything I'll need for tonight. From my knives, my flashlight, evidence bags, a stun gun, a small camera to record the evidence, and so on.

I hear a knock on the door, so I finish putting the last items in the bag and closing my desk drawer.

Wednesday: I'm coming, Eugene!- I shout so he can hear me from the other side of the door, walking toward it. -Hey! Did you happen to bring extra batteries for the flah...?- I leave the question hanging as I open the door and see someone I wasn't expecting on the other side. -Tyler.- I greet, hiding my confusion at his presence.

Tyler: I got .. your ... invitation.- he says, holding a piece of paper. -I found it in the tip jar.- he explains, and I try to think of something quickly.

Wednesday: You got me.- I say keeping a straight face.

Tyler: After our last conversation, I wondered if I would ever talk to you again, but your note was so heartfelt .. and pretty.- he says with a crooked smile. -I was completely caught off guard.- he admits with some glee.

Wednesday: Me too - I admit with complete sincerity, since I haven't written anything to him.

Tyler: Now that I'm here, I'm glad I came. - He smiles even wider, and I can't think of anything else to say. - Do you need a few minutes or... ?- he asks, looking at me, but I don't let him finish and I close the door in his face.

I immediately look to my left, seeing Thing on the railing at the foot of my bed and walking towards him with quick steps.

Wednesday: Heartfelt and pretty?- I hiss at the hand. -How could you do this to me?- I ask, looking inside my closet for my dress.

A few clicks catch my attention and I look over at Thing, who is pointing at the black dress I saw at Uriah's. Heap. I quickly approach the bed and grab the dress with my hands.

Wednesday: How did you pay for it?- I ask Thing, receiving an obvious answer from him. -The five finger discount, right?- I ask, looking at the dress. -Thing, don't look.- I say seriously.

I walk into my closet, quickly changing out of my clothes to investigate the dress. Once I'm wearing it, I choose shoes appropriate for the occasion and put my braids up.

Once ready for the dance, I leave my room and walk with determined steps to the entrance of the dance, where my surprise and unexpected date is waiting for me.

Tyler: Wow ! You're ... - he exclaims in surprise, with something else in his tone of voice that I can't make out.

Wednesday: Unrecognizable? Ridiculous? A classic example of the objectification of women for the male gaze?- I ask with complete sincerity and without a hint of humor.

Tyler: Amazing.- he assures me without taking the smile off his face. -Seriously, Wednesday, you look beautiful.- he admits, staring me straight in the eyes.

I remain silent before looking down and finding him holding a plastic-looking box in his hands. But before he can say anything, a presence interrupts us.

Wednesday: Eugene? - I ask as I see him approaching us.

Eugene: Wednesday, what 's going on?- he asks, looking from the boy next to me to me . -What's up with watching the cave?- he asks in confusion, receiving no answer from my part. -Okay, I get it. Y/n was right, and I'm going with him to the forest.- he comments, and I look at him somewhat alert.

Wednesday: You can't go alone.- I immediately deny, sternly nodding, turning my attention to my roommate's brother, who is standing a few feet away. -It's very dangerous. Don't go.- I order them both, but my gaze remains fixed on the werewolf.

I see his eyes flash with annoyance as they dart between my companion and my formal attire. I can hear the annoyed snort he lets out at my command.

Wednesday: We'll go tomorrow night, understood?- I order them both, turning my gaze to the younger of the two and he nods in response.

I glance briefly at the light-eyed blonde, watching as he shakes his head and starts walking away. Clenching my jaw, I turn around and walk toward the dance entrance without looking back.

Tyler: Watching a cave? - he asks, standing next to me curiously.

I don't answer him, seeing that my research is already known by enough people and I don't need anyone else to know anything.

Mrs.Thornhill: Wednesday Addams!- she exclaims in surprise as she approaches us. -What a pleasant surprise!- she says with a big smile on her face.

Wednesday: Miss Thornhill.- I nod. -This is Tyler...- I begin to introduce my companion, but she quickly interrupts me.

Mrs.Thornhill: Galpin.- Finishes it for me .

Tyler: Oh, yeah. One double, no foam, and two shots of sugar free vanilla.- he recites with a strange expression on his face and I silently observe the interaction.

Mrs.Thornhill: It's a small town.- she says looking at me . -It's hard to keep secrets.- she says with a certain amount of humor, but I don't find it funny.

Wednesday: I'm going to get something to drink.- I said to my companion, moving away from him without giving him a chance to answer.

I walk toward the drinks table with the same confidence as always, feeling the eyes on me with every step I take. As soon as I reach the drinks table, my roommate appears at my side.

Enid: Oh my goodness!- she exclaims with overwhelming emotion. -I love your dress!- she compliments me, vibrating with excitement. -Although your choice of date is interesting. I'm sure you'd look much better with my brother, but oh well.- she comments with a grimace, looking at my companion.

Wednesday: I could say the same thing.- I assure her seriously, looking at the guy she brought as her partner and with whom I've had two run-ins.

Enid: It's not what it seems. - she denies immediately.

Wednesday: Good, because that pilgrim already has two strikes in my book.- I remind her, turning my gaze towards her.

Enid: Lucas is trying to make his ex jealous, and I Ajax. We both win.- she assures me with a smile.

Lucas: Wednesday, I come in peace. - he comments amusedly with his hands in the air and approaching us.

Wednesday: Too bad. I have a medieval-style mace in my pocket.- I commented, watching the smile disappear from his face and his arms lower with some uncertainty.

The conversation ends with my comment, causing both my friend and her companion to go elsewhere.

I take a deep breath, pouring myself a glass of punch and mentally preparing myself for the long night ahead.

POV Your

Both Eugene and I ignore what Wednesday says and decide to continue with the original plan we had. Especially Eugene, who at the moment he confirmed that what I told him was true and that Wednesday was going to the dance, his conviction to continue with the plan has been even stronger.

Eugene: You were right.- he sighs with some sadness and disappointment, while walking to my left through the forest.

Y/n: Yeah, well, I thought she was going with Xabier. Not that weirdo, Galpin. - I comment with a tense jaw, trying to erase from my mind the image of Wednesday and Tyler when we interrupted them.

And he may be right, and Wednesday looks incredible in that dress, because that's something even a blind man can't deny. But anything coming from him can't be good.

Although what I can't understand is at what point she went from going to the dance with one of my friends, to going with the weird and unreliable Tyler Galpin.

But what I do understand is that anyone is better to go to the dance with; than me and that's something Wednesday has made very clear.

Because yes, maybe I've somehow realized that I kind of like Wednesday, and that my sister is right about the looks. I'm going to deny the flirting thing at all times, because I've never flirted with her, or at least I haven't wanted to.

The other part is that while I do like her, it's clear that she doesn't like me at all, and tonight that's more than proven right.

Eugene: At least we're on this adventure together.- he says with a smile, and I raise an eyebrow at him. -You know, the hive must stick together.- he reminds me, and that makes me laugh.

Y/n: I stopped being in the bee club a long time ago, you remember that right? - I ask amused turning my gaze forward.

Eugene: Of course I remember, silly.- He punches me lightly on the arm, amused. -But once a bee, always a bee and part of the hive.- he assures me with a huge grin.

Y/n: Never change, Ottinger.- I deny letting out a small laugh.

The rest of the journey passed in a calm and comfortable silence, taking into account the situation and the place we were in.

Every now and then we hear or see an insect along the path, causing the boy next to me to start telling me interesting facts about the bug and break the silence from time to time.

Eugene: It's here.- he whispers, turning off the flashlight and standing behind a tree.

Y/n: And what do we have to do?- I ask in a whisper, squatting down next to him and looking at the cave entrance in front of us.

Eugene: Observe and document anything we see around the cave.- he answers, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a voice recorder.

Y/n: What do you need that for? - I asked curiously about the object in his hand.

Eugene: For documentation, silence now.- he asks, clearing his throat. -Eugene Ottinger, it's 9:00 p.m. No movement in the cave or surrounding area. No sign of the target.- he begins into the recorder. -Although... I just heard a rather peculiar cicada.- he says, and I give him a dirty look for his last comment.

Y/n: Are you serious, Ottinger?- I ask him, referring to the unnecessary information. -Forget about the cicada and focus on the monster, that's why we came here.- I reprimand him, hitting him on the back of the head.

Eugene: Ouch!- he complains, rubbing the back of his neck. -You can't blame a bug geek for his interests.- he says with a slight pout.

Y/n: Yes I can, if said interest distracts you from our objective.- I assure him without removing the serious expression from my face.

Eugene: I can do two things at once!- he exclaims, sounding somewhat offended, as he sets the recorder aside and pulls a clear container out of his backpack.

Y/n: Now what the hell are you going to do with that? - I ask him, tired of this whole situation.

Eugene: Catch the cicada, what do you think? - he asks me as if I were stupid, getting up and heading towards where the noise of the damn bug is coming from.

I just let out a long sigh, letting myself fall back and sitting on the ground with my back against the tree trunk.

I watch as the insect "expert" tries to catch the bug that has caught his attention, while the rest of the forest remains completely silent.

I close my eyes to relax a little and sharpen my hearing more, so I can be more attentive to any noise in the forest around us.

I don't know how much time has passed since we arrived at the cave, but I'm hungry and sleepy. Besides, the fact that Eugene managed to catch the damn thing and has been talking about its characteristics for over twenty minutes doesn't help the time pass any faster.

But a noise in the distance alerts me, so I sit up a little and look around. I begin to make out the sound of a car engine and can see how, little by little, the other side of the cave begins to light up.

Y/n: Hide.- I quickly say to the curly-haired one, placing myself in the tree next to him and hiding behind it.

We are immediately blinded by the headlights of a car for a few seconds, as the car has stopped to the right of the cave and the light from its headlights hits us directly.

Eugene: Eugene Ottinger, it's 10:42 p.m. A suspect just drove up to the location.- he whispers into the recorder.

We see someone get out of the car and, somewhat clumsily, climb up the side of the cave until they stand at its opening. I hear the sound of a lighter and suddenly, the suspect sets fire to something and throws it into the cave.

Eugene: Oh my god!- he exclaims loudly, causing the suspect to point his flashlight at us and notice our presence before running away.

Y/n: Run, Eugene run! - I shout urgently, grabbing his arm and pulling him just as the cave explodes.

We both started running, trying to get away from the cave as quickly as possible. I somehow tried to pull him along to make him go faster so I could put more distance between us and the cave.

Eugene: Wait, wait.- he begs me, his breath coming in short bursts. -I need to breathe.- he says between gasps of air.

I look back, seeing that no one is chasing us, and decide to give him a couple of minutes to catch his breath. As soon as we stop running, he approaches a tree and leans his backpack against it to stay upright.

Y/n: Leave the backpack.- I tell her, observing the large bulge between his back and the tree.

Eugene: What? No.- He immediately denies it, breathing rapidly.

Y/n: It's the best option. It's obviously too heavy for you, and that 's holding us up. - I explain, pointing to the yellow backpack on his back. - Leave it here, and tomorrow, when daylight comes, we 'll come get it. - I assure sincerely.

Eugene: I'm not leaving the cicada here, it's a rare specimen ... - he begins but I quickly silence him with my hand.

Y/n: Shhh. - I whisper, holding my hand over his mouth.

I close my eyes so I can hear better and try to distinguish the noise I heard a second ago.

I hear heavy, slightly accelerated breathing, as well as footsteps. Although it sounds more like a four-legged animal trotting. But there's something unfamiliar about the breathing; it's not animal-like... it's somewhat muffled and contains deep grunts, as if coming from a mouth more human than animal.

Y/n: Fuck!- I exclaim silently when I realize what it is as a distinctive scent hits me. -Run.- I say, grabbing Eugene by the arm and pulling him away from the tree.

Eugene: What? What's going on?- he asks scared and with his eyes wide open.

Y/n: Run, don't look back at any time.- I tell her looking towards where the distant noise is coming from. -Run until you get to the school and look for Principal Weems.- I order, giving him a push in the opposite direction from which the monster is coming.

Eugene: But what about you... - he starts but I interrupt him with another push.

Y/n: Run!- I shout and I head to the other side.

I don't look back to make sure he's running away, because I can hear his quickened footsteps moving away and at the same time the monster's footsteps getting closer.

As I run toward the monster, I stop for a few seconds and quickly take off my sweatshirt, T-shirt, sneakers, and pants. I don't want to ruin all my clothes and then have to run back to school naked.

I can feel the monster very close, so I quickly focus on the transformation and how my bones change to take on my wolf form.

I barely have two seconds to position myself before the monster appears before my eyes and slams me hard with its body.

I feel a sharp pain in my side as my back hits a tree trunk and I'm barely able to avoid the next swipe of his claws against my body.

As quickly as possible, I get on my hind legs and throw myself at him with all the strength I have, managing to knock him down.

While it's on the ground, I launch myself at one of its legs and bite it savagely, pulling it toward me and shaking my head. The monster shrieks in pain as it tries to push me away with its claws, but I dodge its claws by changing the angle of my bite.

Wednesday: Eugene! Y/n! - I heard in the distance, causing my attention to divert from the claws for a few seconds.

A howl of pain escapes from the back of my throat as a sharp pain spreads across my back and spine. I return my attention to the grayish monster, but I'm barely able to see its next blow as I find myself flying through the air, and then everything goes black.

Wednesday POV

I run through the trees of the forest, trying to find Eugene and Y/n to prevent what I just saw in my vision from becoming reality.

In my vision, both Eugene and a Y/n transformed into a wolf are covered in blood and killed by the monster in the forest.

So, for that very reason, I find myself in this situation. Running through the woods covered in red paint, shouting the two boys names and trying to find them at all costs, feeling a strange tightness in my black heart.

Wednesday: Eugene!- I shout, jumping over a log. -Y/n!- I shout again, even louder, still running. -Eugene! Y/n!- I shout urgently.

I stop dead in my tracks when I hear a pained howl in the distance, and my breath catches in the back of my throat. I swallow heavily, trying to figure out where that howl came from so I can run in that direction.

But I don't hear any other howls, so I start walking again and scream at the top of my lungs.

Wednesday: Eugene! Y/n!- I shout and this time I get a response.

Eugene: Wednesday?- I hear his shout from not far away. -Wednesday! I'm here!- I hear it again and start running in the direction I think he's at.

As I run, looking around, I hear a familiar scream, and it makes my heart race with adrenaline.

Wednesday: Eugene? - I call with some hesitation, stopping my run and looking around.

That's when I see a lump on the ground a few feet away. I trot over to the lump, seeing that it's Eugene, covered in blood, and I look at him with some concern for his unconscious state.

I look around for the werewolf, but I don't see him anywhere and that scares me, even though I'll never admit it out loud.

Wednesday: Eugene? Eugene, where is Y/n?- I ask, shaking his shoulder a little, but I don't get any response and I still feel the strange tightness inside me.

Mrs.Thornhill: Oh, my God!- she exclaims, coming up behind me and causing me to look at her. -Is he alive?- she asks, her tone of voice hinting with fear and concern.

Wednesday: He has a pulse.- I assure her after placing two fingers on his carotid artery and feeling the faint beat of the heart. -You stay here until help arrives.- I order my teacher, getting up from the ground and taking two steps toward the woods.

Mrs.Thornhill: Where are you going? - she asks me in a certain tone that I can't decipher.

Wednesday: Eugene came to the forest with Y/n.- I answer simply, before turning around and looking at the ground for clues.

Mrs.Thornhill: You can't go alone, what if the monster comes back? - she asks with some panic.

Wednesday: If the monster comes back, they'll be making the biggest mistake of their life. - I answer simply, finding the monster's footprints and starting to quickly follow them, ignoring my teacher's calls.

I walk lightly, trying not to make any noise and moving quickly. I follow the monster's distinctive footsteps toward Eugene, hoping to find Y/n along the way and still alive.

In the distance, I see a small bundle on the ground, so I run toward it. When I get close, I see it's clothing. I grab one of the items from the pile, which turns out to be a dark grey hoodie, and when I hold it up to my face, a peculiar smell reaches my nose.

The distinctive scent of pine, pear, and something citrusy immediately invades my nostrils. I look around, knowing that if Y/n's clothes are here, it means he's transformed and can't be far away from them.

I leave the sweatshirt next to the rest of the clothes, moving quickly and nimbly around the area in search of the black wolf with light eyes.

A couple of minutes after finding the clothes, I spot Y/n's naked, bloody body lying on the ground at the foot of a tree.

I quickly run towards him, dropping to my knees and turning him over onto his back on the ground.

I place my fingers on his neck, trying to find a pulse, even if it's faint, and let out a breath of relieve when I feel his vein throb strongly beneath my fingers. As soon as I feel his pulse, my heart begins to beat as slow as ever, and my lungs allow me to breathe in more oxygen with each breath, for some strange reason.

Wednesday: Y/n, wake up Y/n!- I say hitting his cheek with some force, but without overdoing it. - Come on Y/n, wake up.- I growl annoyed hitting his cheek harder and receiving a small grunt in response. -That's it, come on wake up you idiot.- I order in an authoritative voice, hitting his cheek again with a little more force.

Y/n: That hurt.- he complains in a thick voice, moving his face away from my hands and trying to sit up.

Wednesday: You deserve it for being such an idiot.- I growled, placing my hands under his armpits and helping him sit on the ground. -Who the hell comes to the forest without me?- I scolded, helping him so his back is resting against the tree.

Y/n: You can lecture me later.- he growls, placing one of her hands on his side. -I'm hungry, sleepy, and need a shower.- she complains, throwing his head back.

Wednesday: And clothes.- I remind him, keeping my gaze on his face and torso the whole time.

Y/n: Stop staring at my member, you pervert!- he exclaims with a weak laugh and I clench my jaw, looking at him with my eyes half closed.

Wednesday: I'm not looking at you at all!- I exclaim, annoyed, feeling an unusual and unfamiliar heat in my cheeks. -The only interesting thing about your body right now is your blood.- I assure him through gritted teeth, standing up and walking over to where his clothes are.

Y/n: You don't even believe that yourself, Addams! - he exclaims loudly so I can hear him.

Wednesday: Idiot.- I mutter under my breath, bending down to pick up his clothes and go back to where he is.

Once at his side, I give him the clothes and turn around so he can get dressed. I can hear some grunts of pain and the rustling of clothes while he dresses.

Once he's dressed, I help him with his shoes and with some effort, we get him to stand. I put one of his arms around my shoulders, while I place one of my arms around his waist, and we start walking toward where I left Eugene with Professor Thornhill.

As we walk, thanks to the proximity between our bodies, I can feel the warmth of his body against mine. I can feel his heat invade my cold body and envelop me completely with each step we take.

Y/n: Have you found Eugene? - he asks me through gritted teeth, letting out a grunt of pain when he trips over a rock.

Wednesday: He's alive, but he's not well.- I admit with some concern for the bee fanatic.

Y/n: I've tried, you know? - he asks me with some difficulty, I suppose because of the pain in his body. - I tried to stall the monster as long as possible so that he could escape. But I heard you and by the time I realized, everything was black. - he admits with some guilt in his voice and my heart starts beating faster again for the used words.

Wednesday: You're both alive, and that's what matters.- I assure him in a whisper, feeling the unfamiliar warmth flood my cheeks again.

When we get to where I left the teacher and the curly-haired guy, we see that there are more people and among them are some paramedics.

As soon as we become visible, Principal Weems immediately spots us and approaches us with quick steps.

Weems : What the hell were you thinking, coming to the forest in the middle of the night when it's strictly forbidden? - she complains to the werewolf next to me.

Y/n: Nothing.- he answers with a slight grimace.

Weems: Are you hurt?- she asks, looking him up and down, and receiving a nod in response. -Okay, you'll go in the ambulance to get checked out and then straight to your room, grounded, and you won't be allowed to leave until I call you in my office.- she orders seriously, but with a hint of concern.

The rest of the night passes quickly and in a blur. I'm not aware of when I returned to my room, showered, and put on my nightclothes.

I stare at the keys of my typewriter, unable to type a single letter and continue with my novel.

Now that the adrenaline has left my bloodstream, I can't help but think about everything that happened tonight, and something inside me stirs restlessly. As if my body were split into two, one sitting motionless at my desk while the other yearns to be somewhere else.

I close my eyes for a few moments, feeling the pressure behind my eyes increase with every second I sit.

On its own, my body rises from my desk chair and begins walking toward some part of the school. I don't know where my feet are taking me, but what I do know is that with each step my headache diminishes and my heartbeat speeds up.

I stop walking when I find myself in front of a dark brown door and all I can hear is the erratic beat of my heart.

For some reason unknown to me, my body remains calm despite the rapid pace of my heart and the uncertainty of what might be behind that door.

Taking a deep breath, my hand reaches for the handle and I gently open the door with complete confidence. When I step through the door, I immediately realize it's someone's room, and from the scent that fills my nostrils, I know exactly who it belongs to.

My heart begins to beat calmly and precisely again as I walk completely into the room and close the door behind me.

Y/n: Wednesday? - he asks from his bed, turning to where I am upon hearing the sound of the door closing. -What are you doing here? - asks with furrowed brows in confusion.

I remain silent, not knowing what to say or how to answer. Because, to be honest, I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here or how I got here, when I've never been to this part of the dorms before.

In my silence, I realize he's wearing only dark green pajama shorts, and I can see the bandages covering the wounds on his side and back.

Y/n: Look, if you're here to give me a hard time and all that, you can save it. - he sighs tiredly. -Weems has already let me know how reckless, risky, unfortunate, idiotic and everything else it was to be out in the woods at night at the hospital. So I don't need you to do it too. - he tells me with a certain pleading tone in his voice.

Wednesday: I didn't come for that. - I subtly shake my head.

Y/n: So what have you come for? - he asks, just as confused as I am.

Wednesday: I guess I just needed to check on you.- I say, maintaining my composure and taking a few steps toward him without even realizing it. -I don't know why or how I ended up here.- I explain, keeping my gaze on his face.

Y/n: I don't know what you want me to tell you, Wednesday. - says with obvious confusion.

Wednesday: What if neither of us says anything?- I ordered with a softer voice than usual, stopping a few inches from his body.

We both remained in complete silence, staring into each other's eyes and breathing the same air.

I don't know why I'm not able to control my body when he's so close to me, I don't know why my heart races like this every time I'm near, and I don't understand why my cold body enjoys the warmth that Y/n's body emanates.

So many unknowns questions with no apparent answer, that only occur when he and only he is near me.

In the silence of the room and the closeness of our bodies, my body involuntarily reacts without me being able to stop or control it.

My hands move quickly, placing themselves on the back of his neck and pulling him toward me so that our lips meet. The kiss is passionate and quick, full of need and desperation.

His hands wrap around my waist and press my body against his bare chest, where the warmth of his skin penetrates the material of my sweatshirt and reaches my cold skin.

I stand on my tiptoes, running my hands through his silky blond hair and pulling him toward me so he doesn't break away from the kiss. Even when breathing becomes necessary, we both ignore the importance of breathing and continue kissing. Until I start to feel a certain lightness and I break away from the kiss to take a deep breath.

I swallow heavily, connecting my eyes with Y/n's now dark green eyes and feeling my chest rise and fall rapidly.

We stare at each other in silence again, before he leans toward me again and brings our lips together again. But this time the kiss is different.

This time, the kiss is calmer and gentler than the last. I can feel everything in this kiss, and it's in this moment that all the answers to all my questions become clear.

All this time thinking about all the unknown questions about my body's reaction and the solution was so obvious, I haven't been able to see it.

I feel completely stupid for not being able to decipher my body's behavior around Y/n until now. With my parents, who can't go two minutes without touching each other, and Enid talking about Ajax, how could I have missed all the signs?

That explains why, from the very first moment, my body accepted his presence at my side so easily and without any resistance. That's why, on that night of the full moon when I couldn't sleep, as soon as the wolf climbed onto my bed and placed his head on my stomach, I fell asleep immediately.

Because my body knew from the beginning that I was destined to be with him, only my mind hadn't realized the truth yet and now that it has, I don't intend to let him escape in any way.

The wolf that slept in my bed that night will be the same one that sleeps by my side for the rest of our lives, even in death.

THE END

[fratboykate]

Wait papi what about the first time Yelena finally caved and fucked Kate? And was it their first kiss as well?

And then how long was it from that to like them actually figuring out they had feelings for each other

You already got the first time they kissed/fucked before. Here...BUT what about three times they ALMOST kissed right before her birthday? Here's 4.4k of pure sexual tension.

---

11:52PM. On a Tuesday.

That particular shade of Tuesday night that only exists for people who don’t live normal lives. The air smells like city steam and late-night decisions. The streets are quiet but the tension’s loud. The kind of hour when sidewalks empty and everything sharpens. Streetlights smear gold across the pavement. A black Escalade hugs the curb.

Yelena paces beside it, hands deep in her coat pockets, boots beating the concrete, eyes scanning the area. Her breath fogs in the air. She’s been standing here too long, waiting. Not that she minds. She’s used to waiting. It’s part of the job.

Her phone buzzes.

DING. A text. From Kate.

“We’re coming out.”

Yelena exhales slowly, controlled. Slips behind the wheel, loops the SUV around the block. The headlights hit the restaurant’s main entrance just as the door swings open. Flawless timing.

Kate and Eleanor step out into the glow of the streetlamps. Both clearly overserved with their flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, wine-loose shoulders. Laughter edged with wine and weightlessness, like they don’t remember who’s watching. The paps haven’t left. Their lenses gleam like the eyes of predators.

Yelena clocks them all in half a second. Same group as when they arrived. Same angles. Same lenses. Lurking.

Shit.

She moves. With urgency. She’s up the stairs in three silent strides. Slides into Kate’s space breaking into their conversation by leaning in to murmur into her ear. Low. Her lips almost grazing Kate’s lobe.

“Cameras. At four o’clock.”

Kate nods. Tries to straighten. Fails and sways instead. She covers it by leaning into Yelena’s side. Casual. Yelena catches her. One hand on the small of her back, the other guiding. Yelena always guides. To anyone watching, it looks professional. Practiced. It’s neither.

The flashes explode as they hit the sidewalk. Yelena’s body shifts instinctively, always between Kate and chaos. Eleanor lingers, oblivious or indifferent. Kate turns to hug her.

“I’ll let you know what weekend I’m off when the schedule’s clearer. I got a two-bedroom this time.”

Eleanor cups her cheek. “Have fun. I love you.”

They hug again. Cameras snap. Blinding.

Eleanor climbs into the car the valet hands over. Yelena opens the passenger door. Helps Kate in. The door closes with a click.

Yelena rounds the front, slides in behind the wheel, starts the car. Drives. The paps follow.

Silence fills the car.

Kate leans her head back. Watches the rearview flashes die out as they gain distance.

“You know what’s wild?” Kate asks. Quieter. Rough-edged. Like she’s thinking out loud but too aware of the listener. “I can sell out Madison Square Garden, headline a billion-dollar franchise, and get mobbed in every continent…but I still can’t get my mother to admit she hated my last album.”

Yelena arches her brow, doesn’t answer right away.

“She said that?”

Kate scoffs.

“No. She just made that face. The one that says ‘I’m so proud of you, but also, I raised you better than to rhyme ecstasy with me.’”

Yelena almost smiles. But doesn’t. Not really. Her eyes stay on the road.

She doesn’t comment on Kate’s tone. Or overwhelming sadness emanating from Kate. Or the quiet hollow behind her eyes. Yelena knows what this is. Knows Kate’s deflection tactics better than anyone by now. Knows her brain is spinning because she’s been off-kilter since the late-night talk show interview earlier. Knows the weight of what the smug host said. She saw the way Kate’s face froze when he ran a montage reel of her exes and followed it up with the world’s most unoriginal question:

“So…who’s keeping your bed warm now?”

Kate had smiled on cue. Said something clever. Forgettable. Something that wouldn’t make headlines. She hadn’t looked at Yelena once since then. Now, here they are.

Now Kate does. A side glance. Long. Measured. Weighted with something she doesn’t yet dare say.

“You’re ignoring me.”

“I’m working.” Yelena’s voice is clean. Flatline steady.

“Well I say you’re off the clock then.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still mine to worry about.”

Kate huffs and looks away. Back to the window. Much too histrionic. That hangs between them. Lingering. Unbearably loud even in the stillness. Something catches in her chest. Her expression shifts.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Yelena doesn’t argue with that statement. That would mean she cares. That would mean it’s real. The silence sprawls. Heavy. Brittle. Kate fills the silence again. She always does. This time, she cuts through it with a quiet spark of rebellion. “You ever think about how weird this is?”

“Define ‘this’.”

“All of it.” A vague wave of her hand. “This world. The way you ended up here. The way I…fuck it, I don’t know. I’m spiraling.”

“You’re tired.”

“I’m always tired.”

“That’s because you work yourself like a rented mule.”

Kate barks a laugh. Quick and involuntary.

“My mom used to say that.”

“Your mother is a smart woman.”

“She likes you. Thinks you’re good at this. Says I ‘listen’ to you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do. A little.”

“You argue with me. All the time. About everything.”

Kate grins. But it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I like the way you argue.”

Yelena doesn’t take the bait. Kate studies her like she’s trying to memorize the things she’s not allowed to touch. She looks at Yelena the way you look at something you’re afraid of loving.

“You’re tense.”

“I’m Russian.”

Kate smiles. It’s real this time. At least for half a second.

“You were jealous.” It’s not a question.

“Of what?” Yelena’s fingers tighten on the wheel.

“The ex montage.”

Yelena takes her eyes off the road to look at her. Eyes unreadable.

“Why would I be?”

Kate tilts her head.

“Because I looked hot in all those clips.”

“You’re always fishing, Kate Bishop.”

“Because you never bite.”

There it is. The shift. The snap. The drop in oxygen. Something hangs suspended between them, electric and raw.

They stare at each other, something taut. A live wire dangling between them. Humming with every second that passes. Invisible but impossible to ignore. Ignored but continuously sparking. It’s always been there between them. Since the first day Yelena was assigned to her. Since later that afternoon, when Kate stepped onto a red carpet in that now-iconic silver gown and turned to find the woman in black standing just behind her, scanning the crowd like she already knew which face would be the threat. It had unnerved Kate. The steadiness. The way Yelena didn’t blink.

Kate cracked a joke, like she always does when feelings overwhelm.

“It’s not a real threat unless they have a podcast.”

Yelena had remained absolutely deadpan when she replied with: “You talk a lot.”

It should’ve been a dismissal. Instead, it was the beginning. Kate had smiled. And she hadn’t stopped since.

Now, months later…in this car, that same gravity pulls at them. Charged silence, hot and magnetic. Kate shifts. Her hand moves to the back of Yelena’s headrest. Fingers digging in. Close enough to graze.

“You’re doing it again,” Yelena says, eyes still on the road.

“Doing what?”

“Pushing.”

Kate leans back against her headrest, gaze locked on Yelena. Her smile curves slow. Dangerous.

“And you’re pulling. That’s the game, isn’t it? I push. You pull. We keep circling until one of us snaps.”

Yelena white-knuckles the wheel. Barely perceptible, but Kate notices. She always notices.

Neither one says what they both know: the snapping point is close. It always is when they’re alone. A near unbearable amount of emotional gasoline waiting to combust. The car keeps moving, but they’re not going anywhere. Not really. Not yet.

They turn into the driveway of Kate’s Los Angeles home. Yelena rolls down the window, nods at the guard. The gate swings open. Kate turns to look at her.

“You think you could handle me?”

No response. The car stops. Yelena gets out. Walks around. Opens Kate’s door like protocol dictates. Tonight, not a single damn thing happening inside Yelena is following protocol. Kate rolls her eyes and steps out, but doesn’t walk away.

They’re inches apart now. Closer than usual. Closer than allowed.

“I’m not scared of you.” Kate declares.

“You should be.” Yelena’s eyes darken.

“You’re not dangerous.”

“Yes. I am.” Yelena retorts.

Kate doesn’t back down. Steps forward instead.

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I need you to go inside so I can go home.”

Kate lifts her hand. Not touching. Hovering beside Yelena’s cheek. Fingers twitch.

“You keep saying no with your mouth…but your eyes are begging to shut me up.”

Yelena’s jaw clenches. Breath hitches. Kate leans in. A hair from her lips. Just their breath now. Just the static hum of something inevitable.

“Tell me to stop.” Yelena doesn’t move. Kate doesn’t kiss her. Just brushes her nose against Yelena’s. A ghost of contact. A test of boundaries. “Tell me to stop.” Again. Softer. Meaner.

A heartbeat passes. Yelena’s lips part. The breath between them sharpens.

“Good night, Miss Bishop.”

Kate steps back. Smirks like she’s won anyway. Walks to the door. Doesn’t look back.

Not once.

//

Days Later.

They’re in Vancouver now. It’s the kind of grey day that seeps into your bones. Rain taps at the windows, a constant drumming, blurring the streetlights into a watercolor smear. Kate’s been filming nights…long, cold, brutal…so days dissolve into blackout curtains, crumpled scripts, and the occasional IV drip when she forgets to eat again. Her body is running on caffeine, protein bars, and whatever residual fury’s keeping her upright.

It’s another night shoot. Yelena yawns in a beat-up camping chair she dragged next to the trailer’s door. Her hoodie’s zipped halfway up, sleeves shoved past her elbows, a slim paperback in Russian balanced across her thigh. She hasn’t turned a page in ten minutes.

The trailer behind her is absurdly upscale. Leather seating, a gas fireplace Kate’s assistant decided to light for "vibe," granite counters no one touches, a stocked fridge no one opens. It smells like lavender cleaner. It’s unnervingly clean. And uncomfortably quiet.

The door creaks open. Kate pops out in leggings and a hoodie with the franchise’s logo plastered over her chest. Her hair’s scraped up. Her face bare. She looks real in a way she never does on set. She’s holding a script. Still warm from the printer.

“I need you.”

Yelena doesn’t even glance up from her book. “For?”

“Just…come in here.”

There’s something in Kate’s tone. Raw at the edge, quiet underneath. Yelena huffs, folds the corner of her page with military precision, and rises. She moves like she’s bracing for something. She always does when it’s Kate.

She steps inside the trailer. Closes the door behind her.

Kate’s pacing. Not performatively. Just kinetic. Restless in her own skin. A bomb in motion.

“I think the rewrites made it worse,” she mutters, half to herself, like she’s trying not to ask for validation out loud.

“I’m sure they did.” Yelena retorts, leaning against the door.

Kate stops mid-stride. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve seen what you’ve shot…”

“That’s very supportive.”

“I’m not here to be supportive. I’m here to keep people from kidnapping you.”

“Romantic.”

“You want romance, call that weird grip. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.”

Kate snorts. Heads to the fridge. Opens it. Stares. Closes it again. Too quick. She doesn’t actually want anything.

“Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“This.” She gestures, vague but loaded. “You’re always just… unbothered. Like none of it matters.”

“It doesn’t.”

Kate crosses her arms, leans against the counter. Eyes narrowing.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Correct.”

They fall quiet again. The air electrifies. Static in the space between them.

Kate watches her. Really watches her. The way her hair is slicked back, not a strand out of place. The clean arches of her cheekbones. The way her hands are tucked just behind her, fingers flexing against the door handle. The gleam of raindrops on the fabric of her pants. And her…Yelena…impossibly still. Unmoved. Or pretending to be.

“I’m trying to decide if I like you,” Kate declares, deceptively playful. Dangerous, in the way someone leans too far off a ledge just to see if gravity will take them.

“Don’t strain yourself.”

It should end there. Another round of sparring. Just that thing they do. The usual edge-of-something banter they’re too proud to name. Just enough bite to keep the space charged, never enough to name it. But something’s changed. But Kate’s tired. Not tired like needs a nap. Tired like something raw’s been rubbed open too long.

Kate crosses the room. Swiftly. Stops in front of Yelena. Close. Closer than comfort allows. Yelena doesn't move an inch.

“You’re in my bubble,” Yelena utters, low.

“I don’t think I like not knowing what you think of me.”

“You already know.”

“No. I don’t. I think you maybe tolerate me. I think you want to push me away but can’t. I think you think this is a job.”

“It IS a job, Kate.”

Kate holds her gaze. Searching. Digging. The kind of look you don’t give someone you’re pretending not to want.

Yelena’s fingers flick the handle behind her, flips it open. Never taking her eyes off Kate. Kate leans forward. Pulls the door shut again. Yelena glares.

“You’ve never asked the real question,” Kate adds.

“What’s the real question?” Yelena’s voice drops a register. Gravel and hesitation.

“What do you want me to be?”

Yelena’s chest tightens. She straightens. Reflex. Posture as defense. An intimidation tactic. Unfortunately for her, even with her bare feet, Kate is still looking down at her. Still unyielding.

Hardly any space between them. The air shifts. Kate can smell her. Faint musk, clean linen, something sharp and green beneath it. Familiar. Unsafe. They’re chest to chest now. Neither backs away.

“You want me to say it? You want me to say I think about it?” Kate whispers. Yelena doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Her lungs stall. “Because I do. Every day. Every fucking day since the first time I heard you laugh.”

“I’m not one of your toys, Kate.”

“I don’t want you to be. I’ve never asked for that.”

“You’re reckless.”

Kate nods once. Firm.

“Maybe. But I’m not lying. Not now.”

“You’re shaking,” Yelena adds, nonchalant.

“So are you.”

They stare. Raw. Stripped. Both wild-eyed. Breath ragged.

“I need you to step back, Kate,” Yelena demands, but her voice betrays her. It wavers.

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I don’t play games. Whenever I do things, they mean something.”

“I want it to.”

A beat. Yelena opens the door again.

“I’m going back to my book.”

Kate’s heart stutters. Her lips part.

“Don’t run.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re leaving.”

“I’m going back to my book,” Yelena repeats, more firmly this time.

She turns. Moves down the steps without looking back.

Kate sees her sit back down on her little chair and open her book as the door swings closed. Exactly where she was before. In the chair. Face blank.

Through the little door window, Kate watches the page Yelena had folded is still dog-eared. But she’s not reading. Not really. Neither of them is doing what they’re supposed to.

They're both still there. Still stuck on the same sentence.

//

Five days later.

Yelena smokes. A rare indulgence. A reminder that she’s still human beneath the layers of discipline and duty. The other bodyguard beside her is ex-military. She guesses Air Force from the posture. They’re deep into some conversation only people who’ve fired the same rifle for over a decade can have. The kind that involves ballistics data and acronyms no civilian would recognize.

Yelena listens with half her attention, nodding occasionally, pretending not to scan the exit.

Then she hears it. The sharp, unmistakable click of expensive heels on marble. That particular rhythm…cocky, intoxicated, stubborn. She could recognize that exact gate even in a riot. It cuts through the drone of city noise like a metronome.

Yelena doesn’t turn. Doesn’t need to. Her body already knows.

She drops the cigarette. Grinds it out with the heel of her boot. Taps the other bodyguard once on the shoulder. A silent goodbye. Moves. No words. No warning. Just pivots on instinct and starts walking just as Kate emerges.

Yelena meets Kate at the top of the venue steps.

There’s a rustle. A half-trip. A muffled thud. Then Kate’s voice, pitched high and petulant. Whiny. Velveted with exhaustion.

“I’m firing Sam. Just so we’re clear.”

Yelena’s mouth twitches.

“Again?”

“Why the fuck would she say yes to this when she knows I had a fitting, then a full day on set? Who hates feet that much?” Kate grumbles as she leans against Yelena’s shoulder, one leg bent like a flamingo as she kicks off one shoe. Then the other. The sound of stilettos hitting concrete is weirdly intimate.

Without hesitation, Yelena bends down to pick the shoes. Then her free hand flies to Kate’s back, steadying her.

“You say that like it wasn’t your idea.”

“It’s her job to say no to my dumb ideas.”

“Yeah… that’s impossible.”

Yelena opens the car door with one hand, her other still at Kate’s waist. She gets her into the SUV with practiced ease.

Kate groans as she drops into the seat, melting into the leather like it might absorb the exhaustion out of her bones. She smells like champagne, sweat, smoke. Her lipstick’s smudged near her jaw. There’s glitter on her collarbone like a constellation.

Yelena gets in. Starts the car. Drives.

This has played out like so many other nights before. It’s muscle memory by now. This part is routine too. The post-event unravel. Kate Bishop, media-trained to a knife’s edge, peeling herself down to something real. The quiet shedding of performance. Yelena knows the rhythm of this Kate. Not the brand or the persona anymore. Just a human. Squishier around the edges, sharp when provoked, perilous only if you think you’re immune to her.

They don’t speak for the first few blocks. Kate’s halfway asleep, slouched, legs splayed, head tilted like she might tip over.

Yelena should be focusing on the road. She isn’t. Her eyes flick to Kate in the rearview. Then away. Again. Then away.

The tension’s been there for months. Brewing slow. Slipping through cracks and codes. It lives in the stolen glances that linger too long. In the silences that stretch just one beat past appropriate. In the places Kate touches Yelena. Wrist, waist, shoulder. Like she’s trying to figure out which part she’s not allowed to hold.

Tonight? Something’s different.

Maybe it’s the irresponsible amount of drinks Kate didn’t pace. Maybe it’s the way exhaustion is forcing Yelena’s own restraint to fray to the point it’s near impossible to pretend she doesn’t feel whatever the fuck this is too. Maybe it’s the way Yelena caught Kate brazenly staring down at her from one of the mansion’s balconies earlier. Kate was up there…in red silk, perched above the party, laughing at nothing, some guy at her elbow. Too close. Too eager.

Yelena had watched from the street. Fingers fisted as she fought the urge to rush up and throw the dude over the railing when he touched Kate’s waist. Kate didn’t smile. He kept moving in. She kept pushing him away. Not entirely playfully. Yelena had wanted to hurt him. Not because she’s Kate’s bodyguard. It was…something else. Something more primal.

But Yelena didn’t rush in. Because that’s not her place. Kate is inside, up there. Where she should be. And Yelena is outside. Where she belongs. Two very different lives. Two completely different realities.

Kate is in and out of sleep as they drive. Yelena pulls into the garage of the three-story mansion Kate’s rented for the duration of production.

Kate startles awake when Yelena’s door slams shut. Seconds later, her door swings open. Kate looks at Yelena, half-lidded, hazy eyes and a lazy drunk grin painted on her face.

“I’m hungry…I could eat an entire cow.” Kate announces.

Yelena helps Kate and her wobbly limbs out of the car and into the house. Doesn’t acknowledge the comment. Yelena gets her as far as the two steps past the door. The second Kate is through the threshold, Yelena turns around. Kate hears Yelena’s steps getting further. Turns to look at her. Confused.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s three in the morning, Kate. I’m going to my hotel to sleep.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Order something.”

“It’s three in the morning. Nothing’s open.”

“Call Sam. Make her figure it out.” Yelena keeps walking.

“Sam’s asleep.”

“Kate, what do you want from me?” Yelena stops and spins, aggravated.

Silence.

Then, small. “I’m hungry.” A beat. “…I want pasta.”

No movement. No sound. Just the two of them staring at each other, the echo of something unsaid hanging in the air.

“Fine. I’ll make it myself.” Kate walks away from the garage door. Leaves it wide open.

Yelena watches her go. Watches her sway down the hallway. Pathetic. Drunk. Barely standing. Her dress rides just enough with each step to flash skin. Her hair’s falling out of its pin. She looks like trouble. And it woul dbe irresponsible to let her go anywhere near an open flame.

“I need a fucking raise.” Yelena mutters. Then louder: “Do NOT go anywhere near that stove, Kate.”

She climbs the stairs two at a time. Finds Kate sprawled on the couch, silly drunk smile on her face.

“You’re making me pasta,” Kate slurs.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Kate rolls over. Now facing the ceiling. Her dress is wrecked. Her skin flushed. Hair messy. Dress wrinkled. The neckline has shifted just enough to reveal the edge of something see-through underneath. Lace, maybe. Very deliberately worn. Yelena doesn’t let her eyes linger.

“You always stand like that.”

“Like what?” Yelena asks, visibly annoyed while she collects things from cupboards and cabinets.

“Back straight. Feet flat. Like you’re waiting for an ambush.”

“I’m trained for one.”

“There’s no threat here.”

“That’s what everyone says before something goes wrong.”

Kate sits up. The alcohol haze is thinning. What’s left is heavier. Calmer. Hungrier. She studies Yelena. A beat. Then another. Her voice is quiet when she speaks again.

“You always this careful?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to with me.”

Yelena doesn’t answer. Kate stands. Bare feet on tile. There’s a flush rising to her cheeks, but it’s not from wine. She closes the distance slowly. Her presence fills the room like heat.

“You know you’re the only person in my life who doesn’t ask for anything?”

“I’m literally paid to be here.”

“You’re not paid to care.”

“And I don’t.”

“Liar.” Kate’s smile is utterly disarming.

Yelena opens the fridge. not because she needs anything from it right this second, but because it’s something to do with her hands. Just to put something between them. She grabs a Tupperware. Cheese. Grated.

Behind her: silence. Then more footsteps. Then the air thickens. Kate’s warmth, close. Her breath, closer.

“I watched you tonight. From the balcony.”

“I know.”

“You never look away anymore.” Yelena keeps working in silence. “I wore this dress for you.”

Yelena doesn’t turn around.

“It’s a dress.”

“It’s backless.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you?”

Kate moves even closer. Yelena can feel her. Yelena spins on her heels. Kate is closer than she realized. She is…right there. One step and their eyelashes would touch. More bare skin than not. Pink lips, gap between them. The curve of her neck exposed like a dare. Kate smirks, too casual to be actually casual.

“Kate…”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You act like I am. Like I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. Why?”

A silence sharp enough to cut.

“Because it’s not my job to touch you.”

“But you want to.”

It’s not a question. Yelena loathes when Kate does that. Assume. Like she knows her. It’s even more irritating because she’s never wrong.

Yelena breathes in. Exhales. Centers herself.

“Kate, don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like my job. I need my job. Some of us actually have to look at our bank accounts. I’m not blowing it for some rich girl whim.”

Kate laughs. It’s short, tired, but not cruel.

“You think I’m reckless. Spoiled. Impulsive. Used to getting my way.”

“You said it, not me.”

Kate closes the last inch. Her fingers skim Yelena’s jacket.

“What if I told you I’ve thought about this longer than you have? What if I told you I’ve been waiting for you to catch up?” Kate whispers against Yelena’s lips.

Green eyes meet blue.

“You’re drunk.”

“I was. I’m not now.”

Yelena’s heart thunders in her chest. Loud enough she’s afraid Kate might be able to hear it.

“We can’t…”

Kate’s hands slip under the hem of Yelena’s jacket. Her palms rest against Yelena’s ribs. No pressure. Just heat. Intention.

“You’re so goddamn stubborn. Stop pretending you don’t want this.”

“It’s not about wanting.”

“Then what is it?”

“This is my job.”

“You think I don’t know that? But I also feel your eyes on me. All the time. On the carpet. On set. In the studio. You look at me when you think I’m asleep. I never am. You watch me and pretend you’re not memorizing every inch. You also say my name different than anyone else’s. Sometimes I call you just to see that look on your face when you walk into a room and find me. Tough guy goes all soft.”

Beat.

“You’re not the center of the universe, Kate.”

“No. But I am yours.”

“I’m not one of your little fans.”

“I don’t want you tobe. I just want you to stop pretending this isn’t killing us.”

There’s a pause. A silence that stretches. Then Yelena leans in. It almost feels like it’s going to happen. Kate braces for it.

Kate’s hands move. One slides up, brushing Yelena’s collarbone. Thumb at the base of her neck. She’s shaking. Just slightly. But Yelena feels it. All of it.

Then…Yelena whispers.

“Make your own pasta, Miss Bishop.”

And then she backs away, heads for the door without another word. Kate doesn’t move. The door closes. And for a long time, Kate just stands there. Heart pounding. Alone in a house full of heat. And no pasta.

[coazysdaydream]

The posts I'm seeing where it's like "eddie is abusive", " buck flinched " and "buck is selfish" is honestly making me laugh. like really.

I saw someone make a post saying that these people would NOT have been able to handle Gallavich and boy is it true (edit: the post was made by @buck-diass). Gallavich would give y'all an aneurysm. This fight is no where near the ones gallavich had and yet people are screaming, crying and throwing up.

It's grief. They're grieving. They are expressing their grief in a suffocating situation, what did you think was going to happen? One has really bad abandonment issues and the other is the poster boy for repression. My own parents have had worse fights than what buck and eddie had in that kitchen.

The only people who can get Buck and Eddie to open up is Buck and Eddie. And neither of them could do for each other what they normally do, Buck couldn't poke and prod Eddie into talking about his feelings and Eddie couldn't be there for Buck in the way he normally is. I could see this fight coming the second Eddie showed back up in LA. This needed to happen.

I for one refuse to say that Buck or Eddie were wrong, like sure there were some out of pocket things said, but I don't think playing the blame game with two grieving characters is adding anything to the conversation. Eddie is not an abusive person and Buck isn't the battered spouse.

And look, at the end of the day, they made up. Like they always do. Eddie brought back their son as a peace offering and an apology (A+ move on his part) which clearly worked and which I loved, but I'm gonna need Mr. Represso to start talking more and repressing less, no matter how difficult it is. And Buck needs to let himself feel his grief instead of making sure everyone else is okay.

Also, Buck and Eddie's relationship has one of the strongest foundations of any relationship I've seen on TV. This was never going to tear them apart. They have quite literally been there for each other for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. They're going to stick together till death do them part. And I love it.

[nilnether]

I think that we'll see two things impacting their relationship:

One is, of course, Spider. It's not just Kiri saves his life and Neytiri wants to end it. It's also the fact that the actors, when they were shooting both A2 and A3 all those years ago were impacted by the extended version of Parents of Hell scene. It was clearly the intended version almost to the end - that whole thing is fully rendered (unlike Neytiri and Ronal scenes) so they cut it at the very last moment. That means this is the lens Kiri sees her mother through now. Between that and all that happened to him during kidnapping and later Kiri would probably be very protective of Spider (she literally creates a miracle to save him). And the more protective she is of Spider the more it will probably bother Neytiri.

All the interviews about Neytiri seem to imply she would be rejecting all human things even more and hating humans even more. I don't think it would make her hate, or even be ashamed of, her own family but I suspect it will make her want them to reject that part of their heritage. And Spider saving Quaritch will prove to her he should be rejected too.

So it's likely that this will make them pull apart - neither able to see the other point of view.

Second one is secrecy. Parts of the leaked scripts show that Kiri only tells Mo'at that it was her, not Eywa, who gave Spider ability to breathe and then Mo'at tells her to tell no one. This means Kiri will be hiding this from her parents and that would make any disconnect grow even stronger. Neytiri seems to be the only one in the family who won't be there when the miracle happens. She won't be the one her daughter feels comfortable talking about it. They may grow apart.

But I'm sure in the end the whole family will have to come together to save the day. I said before I'm pretty sure Jake and Spider will be captured by RDA and I think Neytiri will come to save Jake and by extension Spider and that would mend a lot of bridges. Especially, since the whole battle at the end will for sure need Kiri's help to be won so mother and daughter would have to work together to achieve this. Rebuilding of trust is such a recurring theme in those movies.

What do you think will happen to Neytiri and Kiri's relationship in Avatar 3?

Zoe Saldana has repeatedly alluded to Neytiri and Jake having some kind of conflict in Avatar 3, and the stuff we heard about in the cinemacon teaser gave us further details. Attendees described a scene of Jake telling Neytiri "we can't live like this, we can't live in hate." From the dialogue and Saldana's hints, it sounds like their conflict will center on Neytiri becoming more and more consumed by anger and vengeance due to her grief over Neteyam while Jake tries to talk her down.

I also believe Spider is going to be a huge point of contention between Neytiri and Jake. In Avatar 2 Neytiri threatened to kill Spider to avenge Neteyam (it wasn't just to save Kiri, it was also partially motivated by revenge, remember she said "a son for a son" not "your son for my daughter") but later Jake embraced Spider while his internal monologue also said "a son for a son," implying that he wants to "take Spider under his wing" as the late Jon landau described their relationship. Clearly, Jake and Neytiri have very incompatible views on how to handle Spider that will only get worse whenever they learn about him saving Quaritch. Plus, there is also a scene from the leaked script where Neytiri and Jake are arguing and Neytiri says "if it's so dangerous, we should just kill him" and Jake freaks out. It's unclear because only a fragment of the script was visible, but it seems very likely they were talking about Spider since the previous page had the infamous leak about Spider, and I can't think of any other characters who would make Neytiri and Jake react so differently.

With all this in mind, how do you think this is going to effect Neytiri's relationship with Kiri? Out of all her kids, Kiri is the most humanoid. If what the old script said was true about Neytiri harboring some "secret shame" about having mixed kids, Kiri would probably be heavily effected by that. Plus, Kiri is the closest with Spider. If Neytiri continues to take out her anger and grief on Spider, Kiri isn't going to be very happy about it.

Me personally, I think Jake and Neytiri are going to try to keep their disagreements, especially ones about Spider, private from the kids to avoid upsetting them, but eventually, Neytiri is going to lash out at Spider for something and it's going to damage her relationship with Kiri. Just like what I predict with Neytiri and Jake, Neytiri and Kiri will go through a rough patch, but ultimately I think James Cameron will give them a happy ending and they'll make up, and since Jake and Kiri seem adamant on keeping Spider around, making up is going to involve Neytiri and Spider reaching some kind of peace with each other.

But that's just my guess, I want to hear what other fans think 🤔

[highlysusceptibletodisaster]

something something Dick wanting to help his brother and show that he's still so important and that he trusts him but he needs help vs Tim craving for someone to believe in him, to trust his feelings and to aceppt him but they both show it in a way that the other cant comprehend and they end up hurting each other again and again

[lollytea]

I need to watch Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure to reach my final conclusion on if she's even attracted to men

[mcytegg]

OKAY WAIT i am watching hannah's vod and she was the one who broke up w leo omg. she was the first to say that after he died and came back, theyre not teammates anymore. she also aired their relationship issues out by scolding leo and expressing how upset he made her in getting himself banned in front of multiple people who kinda just walked away ToT

[stupidvillainousposts]

YES! YES! YES! I Have Been Waiting for This Question!

So, Fidds brings up later, about two days after the fishing trip. He's reminded about the comment after hearing a character on TV talk about the way another character died. (Big Ol' Trigger Warning for Attempted S**cide/Self-Harm Mention)

Fidds: Stanley, could we talk about somethin', honey?

Stan: Yeah, sure. What's up?

Fidds: Ah, actually, I was hopin' we could have this conversation in private.

Stan: *Nervously Looks at the Pups and Ford* Uh... why?

Fidds: Stanley, please.

Stan: Okay! Okay! *Moves to Follow Fidds Upstairs* So... what important thing did I chew this time?

Fidds, holding back tears: *Whimpers and Covers His Mouth*

Stan, instantly concerned: Whoa! Hey! What's wrong, baby? What happened? Are you hurt?

Fidds, shakily: N-no! No, I'm not... oh, lord, I was hopin' this would be easier while we were alone! *Accidentally Lets Out a Sob*

Stan: *Pulls Fidds Into a Protective Hug* Hey, c'mon Honey Bunches, talk to me. What's wrong?

Fidds: *Through Shaky Breaths* Stanley, I... I have to... fuck, why is this so hard?!

Stan: Why is what so hard?

Fidds: ASKIN' YA WHY!

Stan, now incredibly confused: Why what?

Fidds: Why did ya try t'- Why ya tried... gosh, I don't even know how t' ask! How many times, how many ways, what even pushed ya so far as t'... *Shudders at the Thought*

Stan, suddenly catching on: Oh... Fidds...

Fidds: Please, I need t' know. Who hurt ya, made ya feel like all ya had left was...?

Stan: It... wasn't just one person. Not even one thing, honestly. I had lotsa stuff going on back then, b-but I promise that I haven't tried recently!

Fidds, nuzzling into Stan's chest: When was the last time?

Stan, after a brief hesitation: When the portal first failed. I downed half a bottle of off-brand Xanax I'd stashed for... personal reasons. But I forced it up seconds after, made myself think of how much it would hurt you, how disappointed Ford would be if I... y'know.

Fidds: *Hugs Stan Tighter* Was I doing somethin' wrong? Is that why ya didn't consider talkin'?

Stan: Oh, no, no; baby, I wanted to tell you so badly, but you were already under so much stress, had gone through so much with the transformation and... I didn't want to add on to that.

Fidds: Stanley, no matter what I'm goin' through, I could be pissed off beyond belief, but if ya feel like yer strugglin', I'd drop everythin' t' help.

Stan, slightly uncomfortable: *Chuckles Stiffly* Y'know, I think this is the most I've ever heard you curse. Outside of the bedroom, anyway.

Fidds, sternly: Stanley, I'm serious. Ya don't gotta worry about me judgin' ya or pityin' ya, or anythin' along those lines. I'm here with ya, always. Through thick and thin, t' the moon and back.

Stan: *Trying to Keep a Tough Face* Yeah, I know. And I'll work on it, if it happens again. Not saying that it's gonna! I'm doing better now, with you and the pups and Ford.

Fidds: Stanley, the town forces ya t' wear a muzzle and shock collar anytime ya want t' go into town.

Stan: Okay, so not better, better. But it could be worse. Someone could hire a hitman, right?

Fidds: *Sighs and Kisses Stan's Chest* I think I'm ready t' end this conversation now.

Stan: Yeah, ditto.

Fidds: Just... one last thing?

Stan: Yeah, of course.

Fidds: Try t' talk t' me when it gets bad in any way. Yeah?

Stan: Alright. Alright, yeah.

Neither of them brought up the topic again, even after Fidds caught Stan sitting on their bed with a gun in his hands

[astro-b-o-y-d]

How pissed do you think Shermie was when he found out about what really happened with Stan and Ford???

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

My mom just sent a message to the family group chat suggesting that my siblings download the 'For the Strength of Youth' magazine on their Gospel Library app and talked about how much the youth magazines helped her testimony growing up and like, cool. Fine. Don't know why the 'sending random spiritual thoughts in the gc' thing started out of nowhere when it hadn't been a thing for a decade but this is just another one of those, and you're ofc allowed to talk about things that are significant in your life.

I don't think sending the 'What I Did When Someone Close to Me Challenged My Faith' article right afterwards was strictly necessary though 🙃

[viir-tanadhal]

i was going to post about this but then forgot but anyway i feel like it really is the case that the reason neil and chris have been still going for over 40 years and haven't had a major falling out or break is because of the nature of how much they respect each other both on a personal level and also a working partnership level