#Which helps kick my ass into gear but dude

[havethetouch]

Deadline Junkie activated

Bwahahahaha fml. I sent a mail out to our landlord regarding viewing appointments that would buy us more time bc my sworn sis has enough stress on her side with the brother situation and I am going through the motions and the insomnia has me in a grip for months now so excuse me being an erratic lil shit about stuff have only slept somewhere about 3 hours last night (or rather early morning today).

So anyway I fumbled the payment for my family domain (which belonged to my father and I took over bc all my mails run over this one) and therefore sending mails is apparently not working currently which mens the landlord never got my mail which lead to him calling my stressed out bestie to inform her he has an interested tennant lined up and he will pop by on Saturday.

The flat is a glorious mess so imma trainhop either today with the last train of the night or hightail it back to Vienna early morning before my shift (or if the insomnia chokes me again the first train of the day) to fix up the flat and decontruct the netting I had rigged up to seperate the kitties from my poisonous plants, cover up all them drillholes and get ahold of the artfully crafted chaos that is my room.

This fucking flat hadn't had a deepclean in ages I have my work cut out for me imma be fighting for me life over here and sure, 4 days and a half up until Saturday 12p.m. seems doable and it most likely will work out but I also know myself and I am hella aware that when it comes to shit like this I might loose the plot a couple of times in between until the stress kicks of the adrenalin and you might find me doing finishing touches at fucking 4 a.m. in the morning or something.

Bahhhhh fuck this guy and fuck my forgetfulness. (Like seriously havent seen my phone in 3 weeks now idk were I put it)

Anyway wish me luck on my mad race to do the one shitty adult task i hate the most: deep cleaning everything. Hhhnnghgh

[vastderp]

I Had A Baby Brother

My brother was found dead last tuesday in his apartment.

He died anywhere from Sunday to Monday, and his landlord got worried and checked up on him and found him on the floor with one hand over his face. There was an open jug of methanol nearby. My sister thinks he drank it, I pray he didn't. It was an ugly, fucked up death.

He was in declining health this past decade because he was a paraplegic and uncontrolled diabetic. There are systems in place to help with low income people in his condition, but they were barred from him as he was a convicted felon.

He went from learning to walk again in the physical therapy pool to drinking a gallon of vodka per day, growing more hostile and bitter as the pain got worse, until his body just gave out. He drove away his friends, he drove away his family, and then he hit the floor and never got up.

I was meant to view the body with my sister and her grown kids, but the funeral home couldn't tell us where his body had been sent, and stopped answering the phone on friday before memorial day weekend, and then we had to wait for someone to follow up on my sister's dozens of phone messages, which they finally did, to try and make their little profit.

My sister, who has been handling all of this along with my niece, selected a different funeral home for the cremation because the first one was disgraceful with my mother's death in 2007, and they're disgraceful all over again with my brother's now.

At one point today they finally established contact, and asked how my sister wanted to handle the arrangements for her "father". O how casual the not giving a fuck goes! Dude pressed to make a sale even after she told him how unhappy we were with their work.

All this to say that I have a car full of inherited possessions, unused medical gear, and the shitty fucked up remnants of my brother's shrine to Mom.

Good old Mom may have died almost 20 years ago, but her gentle, loving mission to smother her only son to death (and probably into eternity) is finally successful. Of all of us, I've often wondered who got it worst: The golden child, the scapegoat, or the parentalized invisible middle kid. Now that one of us has effectively committed suicide, I guess it's for the scapegoat and me to hash out who gets second place. My mother crippled him long before his car accident, in one long and winding but uninterrupted line of consequences from his birth to death. I consider it a murder-suicide. Which was which? They were both the killer, and both the victim. Enmeshment is a motherfucker.

I'm super bitter, really fucking sad, and incredibly proud of what's left of my family for how they're coming together now. (Except my dad, who is in another state, petting his dogs, because I don't think he can really deal with this shit).

So what's left? To go put some cologne on his corpse when they finally let us go view what's left of him. He always liked to smell nice and he probably doesn't right now.

They'll cremate him, and give us a ridiculously heavy cardboard box of ashes that we'll have to carry out, knowing it's all that's left of a lifetime of struggling and pain. Probably we're gonna mix his ashes with Mom's, and make that lifetime of enmeshment official.

I hope if they go to the same afterlife, he kicks her in the cooter. I hope she kicks him back. I hope they can see each other with eyes unclouded by trauma, and forgive each other for the choices they both made. I hope they forgive me for still being mad at them both for not being stronger. I hope I will forgive myself for a lifetime of resentment and blame. I sure got enough time for that.

Jason was funny, weird, secretly really smart but never made a point of it. He was stylish. He was a broken man who could have made better choices and didn't, who was happily fed poison until he couldn't live without it, who was basically his own whole ass Pink Floyd song. His violence sent me running into a better life. His death sent me trudging back into a damaged family with gaping holes like torn out teeth, into the arms of my sister, and we reconciled. There's just us two left now, and it's our job to make something beautiful come out of this jerry springer childhood we shared. We're doing our best.

Dozens of catheters still in the package. Leakproof bed padding in a plaid pattern. Gallons of creams, antacids, fiber supplements by the jar, pressure sore ointments, fungus treatment creams, lidocaine pads, antibiotics, antipsychotics, a hash pipe or two.

An entire apartment hoarded with moist towelettes, pressure garments, and cleaning supplies. An entire life choked with mental damages and crying relatives. I put on CeeLoo Green's "Robin Williams" and sobbed until my face felt burned. It helped.

All the usable/safe to give away medical equipment is being distributed to the other impoverished disabled people in his apartment complex, who will hopefully put it to good use. I got his old manual wheelchair because sometimes I can't walk. I'm terrified of becoming more like him, so back to phsycial therapy I go.

The rest?

The memories, the pity, the jug of methanol that I pray he never actually drank, the stain he left on his floor after a lifetime of compulsive tidiness, the shrine to the woman he killed who also killed him? All these things I will keep with me forever. I will honor him. He could have been so much more, for so much longer. He had a whole story I'll never know. He contained incredible kindness and generosity, and also a rage so deep it was fatal. He was only 41.

If you can spare a couple bucks for the gofundme my niece set up, it'd really help make the financial side of this horseshit a little more bearable while we do all the shit that comes with a death. Thank you for taking the time to read this post, for your sympathies, and for reading my fucked up family trauma dump. Rest assured there will be more.

Dear god, will there ever be more.

Send help. Send pizza. Send sad hip hop. Hail Atlantis. Hail Jai.

[moonlight0934]

Wake Up

Bellamy paces in front of the infirmary, waiting on Clarke’s shift to be done so they can get some dinner. It takes another twenty minutes for Clarke to come out. She looks surprised to see Bellamy.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I thought we were eating together.”

“I mean, we were going to, but I thought you would have gone ahead already, or that you would have come in to check what was taking so long. I had to finish up a few vaccines.”

“Ok, that’s fine. I had no problem waiting. Are you ready to go now?”

“Yeah, but don’t you have the night shift tonight?”

“Yeah, but that just means that we’ll have to cut dinner short. It doesn’t start for another half hour, so by the time we get food, we should have ten to fifteen minutes to eat.”

“That doesn’t leave long to talk,” Clarke comments, sounding a little sad.

“Don’t worry, Princess. You can tell me about your day while I’m eating, and you can eat while I’m at work.”

Clarke nods, seemingly placated, though still not particularly happy. They grab food and sit down at one of the empty tables. Clarke starts talking about her day while Bellamy eats his food, and watches her. Almost twenty minutes later, Bellamy gets to his feet.

“I have to get to work, but I’ll see you later.”

She nods, seeming disappointed. Bellamy shakes that thought out of his head, not willing to let himself think like that. He walks to work, signing in before grabbing his gear. It’s quiet for a little while before Murphy walks over.

“Hey, boss. They want you to do the first outside perimeter walk,” he says, leaning against the non-electric part of the fence.

“Ok, and you��re here to watch my post while I do that?”

“Yep, you got it.”

“Ok, I’ll be back in twenty minutes tops.”

Murphy nods, and Bellamy starts his walk around camp. He stops by each guard post to make sure that everything is good, and there’s nothing to report. Murphy is leaning back with his eyes closed when Bellamy gets back.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be watching. Something could get past you.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to get past me,” Murphy replies, opening his eyes, and straightening up.

“Yeah, whatever. Scram, and let me finish my shift.”

Murphy rolls his eyes as he walks away.

“I should kick his ass,” Bellamy mutters, settling back down.

The rest of the night is quiet, though he does end up doing all of the rounds himself, which he doesn’t question, but does find odd. Eventually Miller comes to let him off shift.

“Hey, you can head off now. I already signed in, and have all my gear.”

“Thanks,” Bellamy says, stretching.

He checks his gun back in before heading to breakfast. Clarke waves him over, but before he can join her, Kane walks over to him.

“Hey, I need to talk to you alone for a minute.”

Bellamy nods, following him away from everyone.

“What’s going on?”

“Did you see anything odd last night?”

“No, why?”

“Well, someone reported a shadowy figure in camp while everyone else had already gone to bed, and I was told that it was your section. Did you walk away at any point? Leave your post? It’s ok if you did. I’m just trying to figure out if this has any possibility of being a real issue.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not a child, Kane. You should punish me if I did leave my post, but I didn’t.”

“Ok, and on your rounds, did you have coverage between one a.m. and four a.m.?”

“Yeah, I had someone there the entire time. I think it was Sergeant Miller who was covering at that point. He was on call for most of the morning.”

“Ok, I’ll speak with him, but it might have no basis in the first place.”

Bellamy nods, then heads back to the eating area. Bellamy continues his day, almost forgetting about the encounter all together. He ends up helping Monty with a project for a few hours, meaning he doesn’t get to sleep until almost three that afternoon.

It’s dark by the time he gets back up. Clarke is in bed, dinner is already over, and night shift is about to start. Bellamy chats with Miller for a few minutes before Miller heads to bed. It’s only a few minutes because Miller’s been on shift for almost twelve hours straight. Bellamy starts walking around camp to wear himself out so he can get some more sleep before his shift in the morning. He makes a few laps around camp before he sees a shadowy figure near the corner of the Ark.

Bellamy cocks his head, wondering who could be out that late. Then he remembers the conversation he had with Kane that morning, and takes a step towards the figure. Before he can do anything, another figure that he didn’t see flies at him, slamming his entire body weight into Bellamy. He feels his head hit a rock before everything goes dark.

Clarke wakes up early, a weird feeling swirling in her gut. She climbs out of bed, getting ready, then heading to the infirmary. She doesn’t even make it there since one of the guards, a man that she doesn’t recognize, is actively trying to wrestle someone else to the ground. The man is screaming while the guard looks startled.

There’s blood nearby, a lot of it. However, neither of them seems to be injured, and they’re definitely not bleeding enough to cause a puddle like that. Also, once she looks closer, she can tell that the blood on the ground looks older. The guard manages to knock the man out as Clarke runs over.

“What happened?” she demands.

“I’m not sure, ma’am. I was going to sign in, and this guy jumped me. I’m going to get some rope, and ask the guard if they saw anything.”

Clarke nods numbly, wondering whose blood is on the ground. The guard comes back with rope soon.

“Ma’am, can you get Kane? The guard on shift near here was asleep, and apparently has been all night. He has no idea who the blood belongs to, and claimed that something like that would have woken him up.”

“Yeah, of course I can go get Kane.”

Clarke runs off. She brings Kane back to the spot while explaining what happened and what they know already. Kane looks angry, and a little worried by the time they get there. He heads straight to the guard station while Clarke stays back. She looks around the area, finding a few other spots of blood, and one running trail that’s a few feet away from the large spot.

“Hey, I have a blood trail!”

The guard jogs over to her.

“I’m going to follow it.”

The guard nods, slipping his gun back into his hand. He walks slightly in front as they follow the trail of blood to a currently empty section of the Ark. It’s one of the parts that gets worked in, and it’s too early for almost anyone to be awake. The blood trail stops directly in front of a door. Clarke reaches over, and presses the button to open up the door while the guard stays ready.

Someone lunches at them as soon as the door opens, and the guard fires two shots, dropping him before he can reach them. Clarke pokes her head in the room, then runs in.

“Clarke, I have to secure the room,” the guard says, following her.

She kneels down beside Bellamy, who is on the ground, still bleeding from a massive head wound. His eyes are closed, and his skin is practically white despite his normal complexion.

“Go get my mom,” Clarke says, her eyes wide.

The guard nods, running out of the room. Clarke taps Bellamy’s face.

“Bellamy, wake up. Come on, can you open your eyes for me?” she whispers, her voice and tone soft.

Bellamy doesn’t move, doesn’t respond at all.

“Come on, Bellamy.”

She looks over his head, sucking in a soft breath when she sees bone.

“Shit.”

She puts a hand under his nose and over his mouth. It takes a few seconds, but she can feel the shaky exhale against her fingers.

“Oh thank God,” she whispers, putting her head lightly against his shoulder. “You need to wake up, Bellamy.”

She still hasn’t gotten anything from Bellamy by the time her mom shows up. Clarke is holding back tears, shaking as she holds onto Bellamy’s arm.

“Get her out of here, and send Marcus back this way,” Abby says calmly.

They end up heading to Mount Weather with Bellamy, but it’s still a few hours after they get there that Clarke is able to see him. Kane and Abby are talking when she gets in there.

“Is he ok?” she whispers, not able to look at her mom.

“He’s stable.”

“Did you figure out what happened?”

“Well, somewhat. Apparently those people were people that were missing in action after the assault on Mount Weather. They were half mad off of some kind of toxin made from plants nearby. We’re still unsure of what happened between now and the last time we saw them, or how they got into camp, but we’re working on it,” Kane says, frowning deeply.

“What’s his condition?” Clarke asks, turning to Abby.

“Well, I got him patched up. We don’t know exactly what his mental state will be. We can’t even be sure that he’s going to wake up.”

Clarke sniffles, and Abby wraps her arms around her.

“We’re doing everything we can for him.”

“I know, but he was supposed to be safe in the walls.”

[captorcorp]

🎥🎶💕🏳‍🌈

🎥 do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation?

ough it's a lot of magolor light novel scenes tbh bc i love getting the extra storytelling through the text...

everything we've seen of the merry magoland light novel so far tbh (spoilers for light novel ch1-4) - him waving excitedly when the lor starcutter shows up like 'lor!! lor!!! look at me i made an amusement park!!!' or going undercover to find out what the dream team really thinks about him and getting hit emotionally by kirby agreeing to be his friend and meta knight calling him lonely...

also him getting annoyed that the lor won't talk to him in the rtdl novel bc his vibes are atrocious... poor guy is so interested in ancient technology and the technology he finds doesn't even like him

in the dreamy gear light novel, i think it was meta knight and daroach? but when they broke into that guy's place to steal the documents about the machine they needed the gears from, that was p fun

in terms of canon scenes:

anything from rtdl or magolor epilogue

the climax of planet robobot where star dream starts to gain control

meta knight's 'grab this!' scene from super star ultra

i love all of the parts in squeak squad so far where you grab the big chest and then have to run for your life/fight off all the mice trying to steal it from you it's v intense hjkdfs

🎶 if your hyperfixation has songs/an ost, what is your favorite song from it?

i really like the VS Star Dream - Kirby Planet Robobot!!! but honestly kirby songs are all so good (i loaded up my vgm playlist with like 15 of them) so here's a handful of my other faves:

Pumpkin Grand - Kirby Super Star Ultra

Dyna Blade Battle - Kirby Super Star Ultra (I remember this from wham bam rock more than dyna blade tbh hjkdfs)

Peanut Plains - Kirby Super Star Ultra

Sky-High and Smitten - Kirby Planet Robobot

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

you thought i was going to talk about magolor huh, WELL actually this is a kracko fanblog now. look at this funky little cloud guy he fights kirby in practically every game bc he will never let go of a grudge and also he summons waddle doos hkjdfs

jk i still want to talk about magolor >:3c (rtdl and magolor epilogue spoilers incoming)

ok so magolor is the antagonist in rtdl/rtdldx, you start off seeing him crash land his ship and kirby offers to help him collect the ship parts, then he lies to kirby about his crown getting stolen by this dragon so kirby steals it for him + he attempts to use it to gain power and take over the world. master crown corrupts him, kirby kicks his and the crown's ass, he falls through a portal to hell and loses his powers. magolor epilogue happens, he kinda redeems himself by defeating the crown, then jumps into the universe of a previously non-canon kirby game and does microtransactions for a while until he has enough funds to make an amusement park for kirby as an apology

he's my favorite for many reasons!!! first of all bc i was talking about character design and personality in the last ask i'll start with that, wizards and wizard-y designs are great, also he's got little kitty cat ears and his hood looks very comfy... then ofc he's a very silly little guy, he has a fun way of talking (in jp he uses mixes in a lot of katakana which the devs refer to as 'magolorese', this was localized to having him use some slang like calling kirby a 'cool dude' and being like 'high five, low five, all that' etc chill phrases), his animations are really fun (like giggling after blasting enemies with a giant energy beam or spinning in the magolor races), etc - and i like characters that are mischievous or twist villains too ^^

i have so many thoughts about him. first of all i love that his two main goals are like a) build an amusement park and b) world domination. i kinda interpret it as him just wanting to have some sort of power and control, whether it's in a positive or negative way, he's just got a big ego i think hjkdfs. and then even in his amusement park it's filled with bombs and shurikens and etc dangerous things ^^;; anyway more series should have their villains redeemed and start amusement parks i think

also love how his master plan is working perfectly and then. oh fuck it's controlling him now, local wizard fucks around and finds out immediately (and the pause screens even reflect this like throughout all the phases/variations of his final boss they go from 'stop magolor he's an evil liar' to 'the master crown is amplifying the darkness in his heart... save the world and save a new friend, too' - like look at these two from true arena 🥺), lots of angst potential too for true arena where 1) that's the one where the bgm has him crying for help and 2) when you defeat him the crown stays on his head when he gets sucked into a portal so it's implied he's stuck corrupted by the crown in another dimension forever ;-;

he's also very silly in the light novels, people don't really like them bc they paint him in a very negative light but sneaky con artist magolor is also very fun (i mean i'm a redd animal crossing stan this should come as no surprise hkjdfs)

also i haven't read any of the mangas yet but from what i've seen they also have some fun portrayals of him

in conclusion: sneaky egg wizard good

🏳‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you?

tbh i don't really headcanon characters stuff very often!! unless i'm hardcore projecting on them hkjdfs but i mean. at least half of kirby characters are neurodivergent probably

[zachsgamejournal]

PLAYING: Mega Man Legends 2

Mega Man Legends (1 & 2) might just be the blueprint of my perfect game. I'm having a lot of fun!!

I love the Mega Man Legends games. I remember when I rented the original back in the late 90s, earl 00s, I loved it. There's voice acted story, exploration, you can equip things (love the weapon-boost combinations)--it was everything I wanted in a game. I have no idea why I never bought the game, or why i skipped on the sequel, but I hate myself for it.

Mega Man Legends blew me away when I played it recently. Much of it felt like Zelda Ocarina of time. "Oh, you're just stealing that..." But then I saw that both games were developed around the same time. It was unlikely that MML took much from Ocarina, instead just burrowing common adventure game ideas and interpreting them into their own for a 3D format. This game, for 1998, was really fucking impressive!!

So now we're playing the sequel...and, well it's mostly a homerun.

First problem: The opening cinematic plays when the disc is booted up, not when you start a new game. This is unfortunate as I skipped the cinematic thinking it would play again after the start. Not so.

Second problem: The cinematics are too damn long. MML 1 starts off pretty quickly. There's a brief intro before you get to start exploring a dungeon as mega man, and then there's a few cinematics cut in here and there. While there's some stop and go, it's a good blend of introducing narrative and introducing gameplay. MML2 has a really long opening, and there's a lot of fluff. The story they were trying to create just didn't lend itself to gameplay--especially since MM isn't even there when it's happening. But it's a lot of fluff. Once the real game gets started, the cut scenes aren't too bad--but every now and then it gets real self indulgent. Not quite Metal Gear Solid, but I think more than MML1.

And that's it. those are the only problems.

Oh wait, no. So there's this other things. There's a button you can hold to auto-target. This is satisfactory for 99% of battles. But I ran into an issue recently where when I'm hit/damaged, I lose my lock. And when I regain lock, it's a separate target, despite me never releasing the lock-on button. It was really frustrating while being surrounded by powerful enemies that did not relent with their attacks.

Back to the fun. The game starts not with combat, but with putting out fires. Maybe it's a training level, but really it just makes the game more interesting than being a shooter. You get to play a story moment that's still filled with drama!

We land in a snowy land I'm meant to find parts to help land in a hurricane place. Oh, also Roll--the young woman that's always supporting MM with good ideas and her advanced technical knowledge--has recognized her mom as an antagonist.

Well to clarify: Gramps (who is a good guy) is helping some rich, important dude look for the mother lode. We're diggers, you know, explore ruins for wealth. The mother lode is the most sought after and I think we were looking for it last time when we accidentally activated a murder bot. They believe it's on this island protected by a tempest and Roll's mother sabotage's their descent. But why? we don't know.

So we need a dropshit and land on a snowy place. Remembering playing some of this a few years ago, i work on collecting cash so I can buy upgrades. We meet a guy that has plans for a drop ship that matches Roll's fathers. Connection? We don't know because the man lost his memory. He thinks we can help him get his memories back which might help us find Roll's dad.

I do my first dungeon and the money these monsters drop are blowing away what I was collecting on the surfaced. Wasted grinding. Oh well. We're able to build the dropship and head off for the forbidden island. I buy some better equipment and booster parts which makes a boss that kicked my ass before super easy time.

I'm gonna stop talking about every event.

What's cool, this game feels a lot like the first--but there's a little more freedom of movement. It's also cool that it recognizes dual shock controls which allows me to set the control scheme for a much more modern shooter mode. I'm impressed this game actually had the left-stick move, right stick aims setup. The game isn't really build for it, as running back makes MM stop shooting. He can only shoot while running forward or to the side. Still pretty cool to include the dual stick shooting controls.

There's a world map now and I can fly Roll's ship to different locations. This is really cool and makes the game feel bigger than the single island of MML1. The areas aren't as big though--still, it feels bigger. In a way, I missed how you got to know the town of MML1, but I appreciate that you're getting to see more towns and meet more cultures.

A while back, I tried playing Jak and Daxter: The Lost Frontier. There's a weird similarity between that game and this one. I need to really play through it (I gave up when my game kept freezing). It definitely had a MML vibe, and I've said this is my blueprint for the perfect game.

At one point you liberate a school. You can pass quizes for prizes, so I tried. DAMN, these quizzes were intense. There's questions about world history, like when did WWII start, and when was the French Revolution. There's questions about music, such as what album was Like a Virgin released on, and how many albums did the Sex Pistols release. And then there's biological trivia, like which of the following animals is no hermaphroditic. What even am I playing right now???

I spent like an hour passing most the quizzes. You can get a final prize for answering 100 questions without making a mistake, or you can pay 2 million Zenny. I might save my money so I'm not guessing questions for another 6 hours.

There's a dungeon that is a little overgrown with plants. It feels very Zelda to me, but it's still very stiff in it's layouts. MML1 dungeons were basically just grids and a few large rooms. This is mostly the same, but they've done some work to make the dungeons more interesting and organic.

I've run into issues where the auto aim just makes things more complicated than necessary. I can use free aim while running around--but it's a little awkward. Plus, if you move toward the screen, MM stops shooting. That's problematic. But this does feel like the precursor for Ratchet and Clank (maybe I should replay those...).

I'm having a good time and I look forward to digging more into this great game!!

[d34dg1rl5]

Devil May Cry 5 - Injured Reader Headcanons!

Dante:

🔥 While on a walk through the city you and Dante stumble across some demons. "Stay behind baby, I got this!" He dashes forwards and starts slaying the hell creatures one by one.

🔥 Sometimes this dude actually forgets that you're a demon hunter yourself!? You can also fight the demons, there is no need for you to stay behind or hide somewhere!

🔥 You dash forward aswell and start slicing the demons up, just like Dante does. "Woah, my baby looks hot kickin' those demon asses!" He laughs loudly. "Just be careful you don't get hurt, Dante!", you say.

🔥 Just as those words escape your mouth you feel something slashing at your arm. "Argh.. Oh fuck!!", you yell as you see the big cut at your arm. It's bleeding alot but more demons are coming and Dante is busy keeping them at bay.

🔥 You quickly run to a building hiding in there while trying to stop the bleeding. After some time the gunshots stop and you hear footsteps coming closer. "Geez, what did you do?" Dante looks at your wound and sighs. "That thing needs to be stitched.. Let's get you back home." He carries you back home quickly.

🔥 Trish tends your wound and after stitching it, she puts a bandage around your arm. "Be careful next time." She looks at you with a stern look and leaves as Dante enters while carrying two boxes of pizza. He smiles and plops down next to you on the sofa.

🔥 "Look at that, your arm is like brandnew again! Just.. Don't scare me like that next time." He opens the pizza boxes and inhales the delicious smell. "So.. Pizza?"

Nero:

🌀 Nero stood in front of a phone cell. He knew that a big demon was waiting for him just around the corner, so why not buy some gear from Nico?

🌀 "Hey, uh.. Nico, I need you real qui-" "Say no more, I'm almost there!" And it wasn't a lie. The truck fell down from a high building and drove to Nero. Nico tried to stop the truck and caused it to rollover multiple times.

🌀 It landed on its wheels but Nero heard a painful yelp from inside the truck. He went to the door and opened it as he saw you sitting there. Your forehead was bloody and your nose was also bleeding.

🌀 "Oh damn, are you okay??" Nero helped you out of the truck and inspected your face. "Damn.. Nico, you REALLY gotta be more careful with how you're driving!! Get the medkit please!"

🌀 As he got the medkit he started to clean the blood and bandaged your forehead. "There.. You're lucky it's nothing but a scratch." He chuckled and gave you a kiss on your forehead. "I gotta kick that demons ass now.. See you babe!"

V:

📖 V takes such good care of you, it rarely ever happens that you're injured. Except that one time..

📖 When V fought against Nidhogg, he told you to stay out of the fight. You did, since you couldn't fight on your own, so you just cheered for him the whole time (which made the Nidhogg really fucking annoyed).

📖 Nidhogg shoved you down from the platform you were standing on and you flew a few meters back. You landed on your bum bum with a loud thud.

📖 V saw you flying back and quickly defeated Nidhogg and gave him the rest. "Love! Love, are you okay?!" He kneeled down beside you and cradled you up in his arms. "V.. I am fine! I just hurt my butt a little, that's nothing a nice warm bath with you can't fix!

📖 Relieve washes over V and he sighed. "Alright then.. If you say everything is fine I have to trust you now, don't I?" He takes your hand and walks back home enjoying a warm bath with you. "Just.. Don't cheer for me next time.. The demons don't appreciate it.." He laughed softly while kissing down your neck. "I would be destroyed if I ever lost you.."

I have been gone. But I am back! To present you that I am also in the Devil May Cry Fandom now! Surprise! ❤️

[lostwithoutyouherewriter]

Sunrise: A Final Fight Ficlet

Inspired by “Guy and Cody,” artwork by Tei Lee, from the 2019 Street Fighter Pin-Up Special

Cody Travers lounged under the palm tree, shirtless and annoyed. “Alright, Guy, you mind telling me why you dragged my ass out here at the crack of dawn?”

As they watched the sun rise over paradise, the bushin-ryu master gave his longtime friend and sparring partner a look. It was a grim look, one that indicated he would abide no misconduct from the reckless mayor today. Unfortunately for Guy, such a look rarely dissuaded Cody from acting out.

“We must meditate before we train,” proclaimed Guy. “A mind at peace shall prepare you for any fight.”

Cody scoffed, flicking at the sand that clung to his striped swimsuit. “Sure, and I’ll bet that strawberry double dip cone is the favorite workout snack of master ninjas everywhere. Come on, man. Why’d you really bring me out here?”

Guy had half a mind to counter that remark, even as he took another slow lick of his ice cream. After all, it was his friend who suggested the summer treat as they made their way down to the beach. He never could resist the whims of Mr. Travers. It had been that way for so many years, ever since the day Cody had recruited the ninja to save his then-girlfriend from the clutches of Mad Gear. While he prided himself on his stoic approach to life, Guy could not help recalling the disappointment of that adventure. 

After fighting alongside his friend through the dark alleys and industrial wasteland of Metro City, they had finally reached the end of their journey, rescuing Jessica Haggar from the notorious crimelord Belger. As the two partners walked side by side, their victory made even brighter by the neon sun rising over the skyline, Jessica called out to her beloved and stopped them in their tracks. It was then that Guy realized they must part ways, and as much as it pained him to do so, he kicked Cody Travers out of his life and into the arms of his sweetheart.

It was the hardest decision he had ever made, and he regretted it ever since. 

Now, after years of turmoil and heartbreak, after watching his dearest friend fall into depression and incarceration, he finally had Cody back at his side... or rather, he stood beside Mr. Travers, mayor of Metro City, as the man's personal bodyguard. Every moment, every outing felt like they were making up for lost time, so Guy made a point of sticking to their routine. Sparring, meals, even paperwork—he didn’t want to miss a thing. 

Of course, stuffing his face full of sweets wasn’t the kind of morning Guy had envisioned, which was why he was still chipping away while Cody had already scarfed down his Rocky Road Delight. He always envisioned something far more meaningful and, ultimately, impossible.

Still, it was a morning spent together, and perhaps that was all Guy could ask for.

“Total ghost town out here,” mused Cody, brushing a hand through his thick, blonde hair. “I get it. You wanted me all to yourself, didn’t ya?”

Guy shot his friend another look, far more surprised than usual. “What do you mean?”

Cody laughed. “Dude, it’s so obvious. You’re totally into me.”

“What? No. I... I don’t want...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t want a scandal, now that I’m a big shot mayor, but who gives a shit, man? Let’s just go with it. Be ourselves for once.”

Guy sat there, dumbfounded. It wasn’t often that Cody Travers could pull a fast one on him. It was almost too much to take in, and he suddenly felt the urge to meditate long and hard on the matter.

A finger swiped at his cone, stealing a dollop of strawberry and shaking him from his thoughts. “Might as well,” said Cody, arrogantly licking the pilfered ice cream from his fingers. “It’s gonna go to waste if you keep staring like that.”

He couldn’t believe it. Sure, Cody had always been a wild card, but this was ridiculous. He had always been a skirt chaser, going after all the blonde and buxom beauties. There was no way he was into men, especially not a serious martial artist like himself. No, it was just another prank. He was messing with Guy, like he always did.

“Do not play games with me,” he said, glaring at the ocean.

Cody lifted himself up, staring intently at Guy. “You think I’m joking? Why do you think I hired you as my bodyguard, man?”

“We fought well together. It was never anything more than that.”

“Oh yeah? Is that what you think?” asked Cody, bumping his fist hard against the ninja’s shoulder. “You never could stand up to me in a fair fight. Why else would I hire a good-looking amateur like you?”

“Your words are empty. I am the thirty-ninth master of bushin-ryu, and my skills on the field of battle will far surpass your undisciplined techniques any day.”

“Prove it.”

In a sudden flurry of sand and muscle, Cody Travers lunged at the ninja, catching his friend in a serious grapple. As they rolled down the dunes, locked in a tight embrace, it was a testament to Guy’s skill and focus that the strawberry cone remained mostly intact. When Cody managed to slip in a jab at his arm, however, even the summer treat could no longer maintain its composure. With the mayor pinned under his torso, Guy paused as his cold, milky ice cream dribbled down the man’s chest.

Cody gasped, startled by the touch of frozen dessert on his bare skin. The pink liquid trailed down his pecs, filling the spaces between all of those perfectly chiseled muscles. He looked up at Guy, more serious than the ninja master had ever seen him. “Go on. Don’t let it go to waste.”

Guy held down his partner’s arms, the anger flaring up again. “I told you. Don’t play games.”

“And I’m telling you this ain’t no game. Do it. Lick me clean, Guy.”

The ninja glanced from side to side. The beach was deserted, for now. “You have an image to uphold.”

“To hell with my image! I want you. Besides, you’re the only reason I became mayor in the first place.”

“What?”

“Look, Haggar might have influenced the top brass and sponsored my campaign, but I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near that office without you. You always believed in me, reminded me that there was still good in my actions even though I was too damn stubborn to see it.”

Cody reached out to him, stroking the side of his face. Guy relaxed into this tender show of affection, and when he lowered himself on top of Cody, there was no mistaking it. He could feel the mayor growing hard beneath him, and soon, they were both rising to greet one another.

“I’m not playing, Guy,” said his partner, rubbing his sleek shorts against him in such a meaningful way. “So, are we gonna do this, or what?”

In one of those rare, undisciplined moments, the bushin-ryu master gave in to his desires. He leaned over, running his lips over this man’s fine chest, licking the strawberry flavor mixed with such delicious sweat. Cody heaved upward, no doubt appreciating the touch of Guy’s tongue as it circled his nipple.

The mayor gasped. “Keep doing that and I’m not gonna last much longer."

“Good, because I intend to finish this fight.”

The sun was climbing higher over the horizon now, and Guy knew their time together was short. It was always cut short by the forces of this world, but at least this morning belonged to them. Perhaps one day, they would no longer hide in the shadows, making love on a deserted beach. Perhaps they would reveal their love, walking side by side, defiant against the world. And then they would kiss under the neon glow of a rising sun without care or hesitation.

Wouldn’t that be paradise?

You can continue reading "Summer of the Warrior" ficlets on AO3 throughout July!

[xtrrdnrypotato]

Bakugo x chubby reader

Katsuki Bakugo x chubby! female reader

TW: fluff, language, reader is insecure of her figure,

Note: This is my first piece so please go easy on me if I didn’t portray everything exactly. This is also a part of @heart-shaped-cheerios collab event, so go check her out. Also, I hope this fic makes you less insecure with yourself because whatever shape, form or size you are, you are perfect and you're the only one who can do you. Also, if some of the lines sound familiar to you, that's probably because I took some inspiration from Yagami Yato hehe anyways I hope you enjoy

WC: 2.7 k

You stared longingly at Bakugo again for the umpteenth time, your food untouched.

"Y/n!" your friend, Mina, called again, and your attention snapped to her.

"Oh, sorry, what was it?" you asked her, and you swore she looked so close to facepalming herself.

"I said, you still haven't touched your food. Quit daydreaming about Bakugo and start eating!" she said, almost yelled, and you shushed her quickly.

"Shh! Mina, don't talk too loud or he might hear you," you said, glancing quickly at the said boy to make sure his attention wasn't on you guys. Mina sighed exasperatedly.

"Y/n, how many times have I told you, just tell him your feelings. This is our last year in UA. If you don't tell him now how you feel, you may never get the chance to do so," she said, softer this time and you sighed.

"I know, but, you know how I feel about myself," you answered, looking down at your body. "And besides, he's probably not even in the slightest bit interested in me," you added as you took a bite off of your food.

"Hey, you never know! Who knows, maybe secretly, he's also daydreaming about you when you're not looking." You could clearly hear the mischief in her tone and you shook your head.

"Yeah right, as if," you mumbled as you kept eating, unaware of the vermilion eyes staring at you with a somewhat doting look.

It was your dreaded time of the day again. Training. You hated it when it's time for training, hated it when you don your hero costume, hated how you're fully aware you probably look round as hell in it, and hated the fact that Bakugo has to see you in it. But seeing Bakugo in his hero costume somehow made your hatred for training a little more bearable. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost missed it when Aizawa-sensei announced that you would have to go against Bakugo. Almost.

"Wait, what?!" you gasped as soon as you realized what your teacher said.

"Is there any problem?" Aizawa asked sternly and you gulped, shaking your head.

"N-none, sir."

"Good. Now, everyone, get ready," he said.

"Mina, Mina, Mina! I'm going up against Bakugo," you said to your best friend, clinging to her arm frantically. She immediately looked at you.

"Wait, really?"

"Yes! Oh, what do I do, what do I do?" you panicked as you thought of ways on how to avoid making yourself look like a complete and utter fool.

"Relax. Everything's going to be fine. Just, try not to look like a fool and do your best. Don't think of him as Bakugo, your crush. For now, think of him as Bakugo, someone you have to go against," Mina said as she rubbed your shoulders to help you calm down and that seemed to do the trick. With a deep breath, you nodded and smiled.

"You're right! Thanks, Mina," you said.

"Welcome, now go and get ready. You're up for one heck of a training," she grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully, thanking her once again before leaving to get ready.

Meanwhile, Bakugo watched as you started getting ready.

"Oi, Bakugo, quit staring at Y/n and get yourself ready," Denki teased, flustering the spiky haired blonde.

"Shut up! I'm not staring at her!" he denied as he geared himself up. Denki and Kirishima glanced at each other with a knowing look, before bursting into laughter. Bakugo looked at them with furrowed brows.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?!" he demanded. His eyes suddenly widened as Kirishima put an arm around him.

"Come on, Bakugo, no need to deny! We all do that, you're not alone," Kirishima said, to which Denki agreed.

"Yeah, dude! I always do that to Jiro," he said with a shit-eating grin. Bakugo looked at them incredulously before shaking off Kirishima's arm around him.

"Shut up, both of you!" He was about to deny more when Sero suddenly entered.

"Yeah, if you look closely, Bakugo's a bit softer with Y/n," he casually stated as he put on his helmet. Bakugo's eyes widened once more before he let out an exasperated groan and pushed his friends out of the way.

No, can't be. I'm not softer with her. Tsk, damn Soy Sauce Face.

"Next up, Katsuki Bakugo and Y/n L/n!" you heard Aizawa announce and you stood up nervously, sparing one last glance at Mina, who nodded firmly. With a sigh, you headed to the center of the gym.

"Good luck, Bakugo," you smiled at him and he responded with a simple tsk, before getting in position. As soon as you heard the signal to start, you immediately backed away from Bakugo, activating your quirk just in time for one of his explosions. You quickly attempted to kick his leg to knock him off balance, but he easily avoided your attack and landed an explosion on your back, sending you to the ground. Wiping the dirt off of your face, you stood up and decided to lunge at him. He easily avoided your attacks, until you managed to find an opening. As you were about to punch him, he suddenly grabbed one of your hands and flung you to the ground, face first. You could feel your stomach growling from lack of food this morning, but you still willed yourself to stand up and brace for one more attack. However, just as you were to get up, you felt your knees weakening and before you knew it, you fell to the ground, stomach hurting too much for you to make a move.

Bakugo was determined to prove to his friends that he wasn't soft for anyone, especially not with you, but as soon as he saw your knees starting to buckle, his determined look suddenly softened until he saw you on the ground, seemingly crumpling in pain. He stood there at first, shocked and unable to comprehend what happened, before he walked to you and started lifting you up.

You were curled up on the ground in pain, hands clutching your growling tummy, when you suddenly felt someone starting to carry you. You were just about to open your mouth to protest when you saw the face of the one carrying you.

"B-Bakugo?!" You gasped. He simply ignored you and started walking towards the door and you started freaking out internally. Oh shit, I'm heavy, I'm heavy!!

"Bakugo, put me down! This is embarrassing!" You hissed at him but he still looked completely unmoved.

"Bakugo, put me the hell down! I'm too heavy!" You complained again as you started thinking of ways on how to free yourself from him when he suddenly glared at you.

"Shut up, damn brat. Are you underestimating me?" he asked and you shook your head. Never did it once cross your mind to underestimate him.

"Good. Then shut up and let me do this," he said and you said no more, remaining silent until you reached the infirmary.

You couldn't help but wince as Recovery Girl kissed your cheek. Bakugo brought you to the infirmary, then left as soon as the old healing lady attended to you.

"You children, obsessed with being skinny and all. Look at what you're doing to yourselves," the woman reprimanded you as you remained silent. The silence was soon broken though when your best friend Mina entered the room.

"Y/n!! I was so worried about you. What happened? Are you okay?" she asked consecutively as she ran by your side. You waved her off with a laugh.

“Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry,” she answered with a smile. Mina seemed relieved with your answer, but her frown remained.

“Now, woman, you have some explaining to do to me. Why are you starving yourself?” she asked sternly and your smile slowly dissipated.

“How’d you know?” you murmured, avoiding your friend’s eyes. You heard her audibly gasp.

“So you are starving yourself. God, why Y/n?” she asked, sounding both exasperated and concerned. You remained silent, ashamed of yourself.

“Y/n, come on, answer me!”

“Because I want to be like you guys! You all have the ideal bodies, slim and curvy, while here’s my chubby ass. So I thought, maybe I could try starving myself so I could be more like you guys,” you retorted as you tried to hold back the tears threatening to leave your eyes.

Bakugo was about to enter your room when he heard another voice from inside. Tsk, Raccoon-eyes. Still, instead of leaving, he decided to stay outside the door, eavesdropping on the conversation. Tsk, I shouldn’t be here, he thought to himself despite what he’s currently doing. What he heard next though was something he never thought you’d say.

Mina gaped at you, aghast before she suddenly hugged you.

"What are you talking about, silly? You don't have to be like us, Y/n. Yes, you may be chubby, but that’s part of your charm,” she said in an attempt to comfort her.

“No, I..of course it’s easy for you to say that. Look at you,” you pouted, motioning to her slim pink body.

“I’m pink. Yes, I’m slim, but I’m pink. Despite how my body shape looks, I’m still pink, unlike you and Uraraka and others. But you guys still befriended me, right?” she asked and you nodded.

“Of course! I mean, you may be pink but you’re fun to talk to, and you’re nice,” you added, which made her smile sheepishly.

“You really think so?” she asked teasingly before bursting into giggles. Staring at her, you couldn’t help but snicker as well.

“But kidding aside, now you get my point?” Mina asked as she stopped laughing. Wiping the corner of your eye, you nodded.

“I guess?” you answered with a slight grin. Mina looked at you with an “are you serious” look and you giggled.

“Well, I think that’s the best I can get from you for now. But once you’re out of here, I’m going to whip you into shape! And I don’t mean physically! Got it?” she asked in a bossy tone, her hands on her hips. Your slight grin turned into a full fledged smile and you nodded. Mina’s serious yet playful look softened and she hugged you once again, before finally leaving you alone in the clinic.

Mina shook her head as she closed the clinic door behind her.

“She’s always so stubborn,” she muttered to herself. When she looked up, she was surprised to see Bakugo.

“Oh, Bakugo, are you visiting Y/n?” she asked. He didn’t answer, which made her grin.

“She’s up, don’t worry. Get in there, I know she’s also looking for you,” she added and the blonde looked at her with an inquisitive brow raised as Mina held her hands up in surrender and moved out of the way. With a tsk, Bakugo was about to enter when Mina talked again.

“You should probably tell her how you feel already. It’s starting to get out of hand, you know,” she teased. She can obviously see him tense up, before letting out a low growl and opening the door, quickly closing the door behind him, making Mina chuckle.

Your eyes were closed as you pondered your best friend’s words when you heard the door open.

“Mina, I thought-” you were cut short when you saw Bakugo enter. You quickly straightened and cleared your throat.

“H-hey, Bakugo,” you said with an awkward laugh.

“Wh-what are..you doing here?” you asked, seeing as he didn’t respond to your first statement. He remained silent and you were starting to get annoyed by his behavior.

“Seriously, why are you-”

“How are you?” he cut you short and you closed your mouth before responding again.

“I-I’m good. Recovery Girl told me I can go out by today, I just need to take a small rest,” you answered and he nodded thoughtfully. You tried to look for more things to say, but couldn’t find any and so you decided to shut up.

“I..” Bakugo said before pausing quickly, as if hesitating what to say next. He cleared his throat before talking again.

“I..overheard what you and Mina were talking about earlier,” he stated and you looked at him, eyes wide before shaking yourself off.

“You did?” you asked and he simply nodded. Great, now you’re probably thinking of how pathetic I am, you couldn’t help but think.

“Why?” he asked, breaking your train of thoughts.

“Wh-what do you mean..why?”

“Why would you try to change yourself? Why would you do such a thing to the point that it almost got you in trouble?” he asked, and you were pretty sure you could hear concern in his voice. You remained quiet though, embarrassed as you looked down to your hands.

“Why?” he repeated himself, firmer this time and you looked up at him.

“So you’d take a second glance at me!” you shot back and he furrowed his brows, as if he didn’t understand what you meant.

“I did that..so you know, you would notice me,” you paused, considering your words before resuming. “I’ve liked you for some time now, Bakugo, but I thought..you wouldn’t notice me or take a second glance at me, because of how I look. Because, let’s be honest, I pale in comparison with the other girls in our class. So I tried being like them, so maybe you’d like me back,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. He remained speechless for a long time, and you sighed. You’ve only made a fool of yourself.

“Look, I know it sounds pathetic, so could you please just leave me-”

“Idiot,” he mumbled and you looked at him, aghast.

“Excuse me?” you asked, incredulous. After that confession, he’d just call you an idiot?!

“You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot for thinking that you need to be like them in order for me to like you. You’re an idiot for thinking that I wouldn’t take a second glance at you because of how you look. You’re an idiot for even thinking that I didn’t like you in the first place,” he added and you looked at him, confused.

“Wha-? What are you talking about?” you asked him, visibly confused.

“You really are a dumbass, huh?”

“One more insult and I’ll kick you out.”

“How could you not notice? All my friends have been telling me that I’ve been so obvious, but I guess I wasn’t obvious enough,” he answered and you only gaped at him, even more lost.

“What do you mean “obvious”? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, starting to get annoyed.

“I like you, dumbass!” he finally yelled and your eyes widened, taken aback. He saw your shocked expression and decided to continue.

“I like you because you’re cheerful, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re helpful. I like you because you still manage to smile even after all the insults you get from others. I like you because you’re you. So when I heard that you were starving yourself because you wanted to look like the others, I knew I had to do something. You don’t need to be like them for me to notice you, because it’s you who I like. I wouldn’t like you if you were like them. And I don’t care if you think you’re too fat or too chubby or whatever because to me, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And you just need to see that,” he said, the words flowing out of him so effortlessly. When he looked at you, he could see tears in your eyes again.

“Tsk, making me say stuff like that,” he said and before you knew it, he pulled you in a hug.

“So don’t go trying to change yourself, okay? If you really want to, I’d respect that. But do it for yourself. Not because you want to be like someone else, but because you want to be you. Got it?” he said as he hugged you tightly and you couldn’t help but tear up more.

“Are you saying this because it’s what you really mean, or because you just pity me?” you asked with a slight laugh.

“Shut up, dumbass. You know I don’t do things half-assed, and I wouldn’t say all this stuff if it’s just out of pity, so you better appreciate it,” he mumbled and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I do appreciate it,” you answered and you swear you could feel him smile.

“Good. Now shut up..and let me hug you,” he said, holding you tighter and at that moment, you knew you couldn’t be any happier.

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter One)

Post-blip (five or six months later)

A/N: This is my first time writing on this website or anything public really, I usually just write for me, please just bear with me if it looks or sounds janky. Also, thanks for taking the time to read. I deeply & wholeheartedly appreciate you. Enjoy!

Summary: I suck at them but, I'll give it a shot. You- the reader, are surprised by 'old' friends when they show up out of the blue, asking for your help on a mission. (This is just the sum for chap. 1)

Word count: 2,760

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, ex-boyfriend jealousy...

The day was coming to an end, a small heatwave conjuring up a sweat as you wiped down your last table for the night. You blew out a breath, brushing back a sheen of perspiration with your forearm, watching the last customer walk out of the restaurant as the bell chimed above their head.

You never understood why people chose to sit inside when there were tables out on the sidewalk. It was hotter in here than out there, especially since the air conditioner had gone out just a few days prior and the fans above the tables were only circling the air inside. It was an actual oven, but they contended.

Your hightops heaved across the tile, dragging yourself with the sufficiency of a person who was only working because they had to. You kicked up the doorstop, pulling the door towards you with a small amount of goodwill and vigor to finish locking up, flipping the paper sign over from open to closed. It wasn't as if you hated your job. You thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere of it all. It was the only person working the night shift job you hated with every fiber of your being. You weren't completely alone in the restaurant, having a few cooks and the owner to keep you company, especially on busy nights like the one you just had.

"I'm clocking out, Mrs. Turner!" You call out, reaching behind your back to untie the knot of your apron, pulling it up and off your neck once the ties came undone. Trudging back to the table, you picked up the disinfectant wipe and toss it in the bin, making your way to your boss's office before hanging up your apron on the hook. "Mrs. Turner...?" You murmur softly, poking your head in through the doorway, only to see her counting the profits for the day. "I'm heading home," You chime, pointing behind your shoulder with your thumb as she glances up at you.

"Alright, Honey," She beams, a bright smile pulling at her lips as her eyes meet yours. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Working for the Turners wasn't supposed to be a permanent job, in fact, it wasn't even your original plan, as opposed to the small favors you would complete now and then for the people that were willing to pay a pretty penny for your...services.

But you figured having a stable job was smarter and safer than the alternative. And the help wanted sign was very persuasive, due to the pretty colors and splashes of glitter. It looked like it was made by a child, which you later found out, was decorated by Mrs. Turner's seven-year-old. "Always." You accede, tapping the doorframe as your goodbye before parading into the breakroom to gather your things from the lockers.

You take your backpack off the hook and swing the strap over your shoulder before time punching your card and going straight through the back door. The sounds of the city hit your ears as the heavy door slammed behind you. Traffic honks and tires treading against the grain while you walk further into the busy streets of San Francisco.

As you were about to turn the corner, you were met with the sight of your friend's van, followed by a trumpet rendition of La Cucaracha. You grinned widely, gripping your strap tighter as you jog up the 1972 Ford Ecoline, aka Big Bertha. At least that's what you called it. "Luis!" You rejoice, resting your palms on the ledge. "What are you doing here?"

"Scotty sent me out for a few things," Luis answers, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head turned to you. "I was just about to go when I saw you. Thought you might need a ride." He shrugs, a cute smile playing on his lips.

You nod, reciprocating the smile at his answer. "Yeah, if it's not too much trouble..." You drag, your voice hesitant, as if he didn't offer at all.

"Nah, get in." He gestures, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. "Your place is on the way," Luis loosens his seatbelt, reaching over to the passenger side to pull up the lock, opening the door for you.

You climb in, plopping down on the tufted leather seats as you pulled the door towards you, closing it shut. "Thanks, Lu," You breathe, dropping your backpack below your feet, then you fasten your seatbelt. "How is Scott, anyway?" You ask as Luis changes gears and presses the gas, the van rolls onto the street.

"Ehh...he's...he's alright, know what I'm sayin'?" He answers, glancing at you before focusing back on the road. "I mean, he missed like five years of his daughter's life. He's just trying to spend as much time with her to make up for years they both lost."

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, nodding softly in agreement as the city lights passed you by. There wasn't much you could say to that, having lost so many people yourself. People you considered family just...gone.

"Yo!" Luis pipes up, snapping you out of your train of thought. "Didja see the news today?!" He shakes his head, whistling at the thought. "I can't believe they would just give some random dude the shield like that, ya know?"

You drew in your bottom lip in contempt, nodding once again at Luis. You had seen the news, and they couldn't have picked a better time to broadcast. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Turner asking you in, you would've hunted Sam Wilson down and kicked his ass yourself.

The van rolled to a stop, brakes squealing as Luis pulled up beside your apartment. You sighed heavily, glancing at the small apartment you shared with your Ex-boyfriend. By the looks of the living room light illuminating behind the curtains, he was home, and you absolutely dreaded when he was. It wasn't as if you wanted to live with him, but you had no other alternative. Ever since dropping your side job, money was tighter, and he was kind enough to let you stay, just until you found a place. "Thanks again for the ride, Lu." You mumble, unclicking your seatbelt as you took hold of your backpack. "You didn't have to."

"Don't even mention it, Y/N," Luis reassures, watching you as you pull at the door handle, opening it to get out. "I know how hard it is to get back into the norm."

You shut the passenger door, shooting him a sympathetic smile. "I'll see you around?"

With a smile, Luis waves goodbye and drives off into the night, the exhaust pipe blowing smoke as he rode off. You shook your head, cracking a smile at the honk of his horn. You turned towards the front entrance of the apartment, your stomach twisting as your smile dropped completely. You swallowed thickly, rolling the tension from your shoulders to prepare yourself before jogging up the small flight of stairs.

You fished your keys from the front pocket of your backpack, taking a breath before shoving the key into the lock, twisting as you pushed the door open with your shoulder. "Joshua?!" You voiced, calling out your ex's name to make sure it was him. You dropped your belongings beside the door, pushing your sneakers off before kicking the door shut with your foot.

"Yeah, in here!" He responds quickly, a slight tremor to his tone.

You frown softly, tossing your keys into the bowl on the console table before sauntering to where his voice was emanating from. "Josh, are you...?" Your voice came to a halt, your footsteps stopping altogether as you walked into the living room.

"Hey!" Joshua exclaims once your figure comes into view. "You wanna explain who they are?" He presses, his face crossed with fear as he gestures to the two men sitting calmly on your living room couch.

You remained quiet, your body tense, eyes wide as your focus shifted between the men on the couch and your ex.

"Well...?" Joshua demands, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting in his stance at the unsettling glare one of the men was sending his way. "I was in the middle of hosting game night-as you can see, when they showed up," Josh drops his arms, hands splaying out to gesture to the coffee table consisting of five different dips, two bulk-sized bags of tortilla chips, and a twenty-four pack of Blue Moon beer. "The guys were just about to come over."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to refrain from any and all insults towards your ex. That explained why he was home. "Um..." You utter, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Fucking hell," You curse under your breath, eyes fluttering open to look at Joshua. "Josh," You begin, clearing your throat as you start with the man on the left. "They are Sam Wilson and..." You hesitate, eyes settling on the man to the right, his sight alone bringing back the memories that you swore you didn't want to remember. "James Barnes," You finish, ripping your eyes away from his baby blues to look at your ex. "Aka-"

"The Falcon and The Winter Soldier..." Joshua finishes for you, his eyes flashing with amazement, head whipping towards the guys. "Shit!" He curses, smiling widely like a kid in a candy store. "Can I get you guys anything? A plate? Beer?"

"Actually," You grunt, interrupting before Sam or Bucky could answer. "Can you give us a minute, Joshua?" Insisting while your foot tapped impatiently against the hardwood floor.

"Should I be worried?" He inquires, eyes filled with confusion as he looked between the three of you, trying to piece together the situation at hand. The main reason you and Joshua couldn't work it out was that you kept a lot of secrets, mostly from him. He didn't like the fact that you wouldn't let him in. Sure, you lied to him, the biggest lie being that you were an Avenger, but that was just to keep him safe. There were other reasons why you decided to split up as well. Joshua knew...he knew deep down you were just with him to pass the time. He could see it when he looked into your eyes. There was someone else in the reflection and it wasn't him. If he was honest with himself, he could admit that it did hurt him. That he wanted a chance to make it work with you, but with the way you were staring at James, he finally recognized that reflection.

He should've noticed it early on-like that day he had somehow convinced you to take a trip to D.C for a tour of the Captain America museum. You were hell-bent on not going, trying to make up some elaborate excuse or an alibi of sorts, but alas, you still went. And for some odd reason, you couldn't stop coming back to the Bucky Barnes portion.

"No," You reply, keeping it short to dismiss him.

Joshua's mouth set in a hard line, a foreign feeling forming in the pit of his stomach-jealousy. He never had to worry about it before, especially when his friends used to come over, back when you were still together. Except for that one time, but how could he blame them? You were the kind of person that listened, laughed at the jokes being made, could lend a hand when needed, and your looks were just a bonus in his book. "Uhm, yeah," He coughed, frowning softly while nodding his head at you. "I have to go pick up the pizza, anyway," Josh brushes past you, fetching his keys from the bowl while slipping on his Vans that sat up against the wall ledge that separated the front door from the living room. "Are you going to be okay?" He mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

You shoot Josh a smile, nodding reassuringly, his footsteps approaching closer before stopping in front of you, the palm of his hand landing gently on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Let me know if you need anything, m'kay?" Josh's voice is soft, the concern in his eyes making you feel guilty. You knew he cared about you, and there wasn't a time where you'd catch him staring at you for far too long, but you were well past that. "I'm just a text away," He notes, waving his cell in his hand.

"Josh, I'll be fine," You sigh, stepping away from his touch, the sound of his hand hitting his jeans as it dropped from your shoulder. "I always am."

"Right," Josh nods, looking over at the men on the couch before gazing back at you. "I'll see you in a bit, bug." And with that, he turns, opens the front door, and steps out, shutting the wooden door behind him.

You close your eyes, the pet name Josh had coined for you making you sigh. He agreed to stop calling you that all together and it only made you feel that more guilty for ending things. "So..." You pipe up, opening your eyes as you turned to look at the guys. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Bug?"

Bucky is the first to speak, his jaw clenched at the mere sound of the word. Indignant at the way Josh had touched you, even if it was just your shoulder. "I didn't know he knew you like that," Bucky flashes you a taut smile, nodding softly as he shared a look with Sam, but the falcon only shook his head. "How long have you been..." Bucky couldn't even finish the question, his glove-clad hands tightening at the thought of you being with somebody else...someone that wasn't him. Though, it was his own fault. If he hadn't done what he'd done-you'd have never found another.

"Wow," You scoff, padding closer to where they sat. "You don't miss a beat, do you? Just..." You sink into the sofa adjacent to the one they occupied. "-Right into the big stuff."

"I didn't bring you here to question her about her love life," Sam voices, his scolding eyes on the man beside him. "And she sure as hell isn't obligated to answer you, Bucky."

You smile gratefully at Sam before glancing down at your leg that had begun to bounce in anticipation. "What are you guys doing here? And how'd you find me?" You ask, tilting your head in curiosity as you look up at the guys. "When I resigned from the Avengers initiative, they ensured me that I wasn't able to be traced, not by your or any other remaining member. I was supposed to be scot-free," You declare, hitting your thigh with your fist.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Sam chuckles, shaking his head at the naivety. "We both know that's a bunch of bullshit. The government is always going to have its eyes on us. Especially free agents like you and us."

You draw in your bottom lip, biting down, eyes flickering between Sam and Bucky. You knew it was too good to be true, and part of you sensed the bullshit when the government explained it to you. You just didn't want to believe it.

"You were an ex-assassin. How could they not keep tabs on your whereabouts?" Sam recounts, emphasizing that it was in the past. At least, that's what they thought. "And I had some help from Redwing as well." He shrugs nonchalantly.

You choke out a laugh, shaking your head at the smug demeanor emitting from Sam. "Redwing," You whisper, smiling thinly. "Of course, nothing could ever be hidden from your personal P.I, huh?"

"I hate that thing," Bucky grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. in annoyance. "Invasion of privacy, I'm telling you."

"You love redwing," Sam jokes, playfully jabbing Bucky's arm with his elbow, "It's okay Bucky, you can admit it."

"Can we get back to the issue here?" You interject, "Not one of you has explained the reason you're here. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great to see you...one more than the other," You whisper that last part but, completely aware that Bucky could hear it. "But, you both showing up out of the blue...? That's almost a bad omen."

"I didn't ask him here, by the way," Sam acknowledges, raising his hands in defense, "I just want to get that out of the way. Bucky came because he wanted to. I'm here," Sam gestures to himself, "-For one reason and one reason only..."

"And what's that?" You ask, leaning forward in your seated position.

"I need your help, Y/N."

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Ch. 14)

Chapter Summary: Hearts are broken.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: angst, “The Mandalorian” reference.

A/N: One more chapter after this and we’re done. Thank you, incredible Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer for having my back. Love you. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

There’s that annoying little chilling feeling running down his spine while Bucky parks his bike on the nearest parking lot to your building and steps towards your place. Not the dreadful feeling he gets on missions when his life or others’ are in danger. No, not that one. Is that feeling he gets when he knows something’s up, something’s out of order, not necessarily bad, but something that he needs to put his focus on…

He’s been trying to hold himself from going to your place, he knows that it may sound like he’s imposing himself in your personal space, in your life, but he’s been trying to call you in the last few hours, sent a few messages but you haven’t answered  and then that annoying little feeling came to say hello.

And in his long ass life, he’s learned better than to ignore that feeling. He knows you’re not at work because it’s a Sunday and maybe you just went out somewhere without your phone and he’s just being paranoid or something… But he’ll just check if you’re ok, see those pretty eyes of yours and leave. That’s it.  He may seem like a fucking stalker, but if that is going to assure him you’re ok, then so be it.

And God knows how much he would appreciate a glimpse of you right now.

The little hairs on his neck stand in attention at the sight he catches from the corner of your street and brings him to a full stop. That short little asshole of your ex, dragging a big suitcase with one hand and holding a couple of boxes with the other.

Bucky’s heart races and he frowns, watching when that Eddie guy lets go of the suitcase and balances himself to not let the boxes fall while he types the code to open the front door, getting into your building right after, dragging the suitcase with him.

The air catches in Bucky’s throat before it comes out in short little breaths. His mind runs with all the possible scenarios that would explain that scene… he desperately searches for ones that don’t have to mean what his jumping heart is telling him it means.

He’s not thinking clearly through the mess that his mind has become, but he decides he needs to see it for himself, as dreadful as he is of what he’s going to see.

In a few long and quick steps he’s at the building’s door, typing the numbers he’s just registered the douchebag typing and in a second he’s in the elevator up to your floor.

Once he’s at your door, ready to knock on the wood, his hand stops midair, before it drops to his side while he sighs. Deeply. This is madness… he shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t need to see anything, he can wait and talk to you some other time, when he’s less… anguished… anxious… He knows what he’s thinking, but it doesn’t mean that’s the case. You and the guy had lived together for years… maybe he’s just returning some of your stuff… maybe… damn… he brushes his hand over his face, harshly. He should leave.

And he’s about to do exactly that when the door opens.

Bucky has been calling the guy a short little asshole all this time and, while he still may be an absolute jackass and Bucky surely and easily beats him in height, somehow he feels like the smallest person on earth standing in front of the man right now.

“Can I help you?” Eddie asks, hardening his face after an immeasurable moment of stunned silence between the two men.

“Ahm,” Bucky clears his throat and keeps his voice firm, “Can I talk to Y/N?”  

Eddie lets out a small puff and God knows how much Bucky needs to hold himself back from punching that stupid little face, “She’s not home, she had a call for something at work,” Eddie answers plainly.

Bucky feels when his jaw tightens painfully and his chest puffs, “Then what the hell are you doing here?”  His voice comes out dangerously low as his chin tips up.

A little and annoying smirk twists Eddie’s lips and… fuck, Bucky has a terrible feeling about that. “Not that I need to give you any explanation but I’m moving back. This is my home again.” He regards Bucky for a second after adding, “Our home.”

The words punch the air out of Bucky’s lungs and, looking behind Eddie’s shoulder he sees the numerous boxes… your place… where he had you in his arms so many times now filled with that guy’s stuff next to your things… His stomach churns violently.

“Are you… are you and Y/N...” he can’t even finish the question, the words getting stuck in his throat, choking him like a deadly poison.

“Listen, dude…” Eddie bursts out, “What Y/N and I have isn’t some kind of fling or deal or whatever one small time apart can destroy, we belong together.” He huffs and bites his cheek before continuing impatiently, while all Bucky can do is stare at him, frozen in place, ”I have no time for this. If you have questions you can ask her whenever you want, if she has anything to explain to you, she will. Now if you excuse me.” He gestures towards the elevator.

Bucky would rather die a thousand times before he would allow himself to continue showing a single more minute of vulnerability in front of that guy… so he sucks it all down his throat and, holding himself in the excruciating pain rushing up his chest like it’s an anchor, he puts on a hard face and just nods, stepping away while he meets, for the first time, the ache he knows is the feeling of his heart breaking.

~~~

 At the sight before her, Natasha sighs and remembers the time when she would find much different scenarios when she would burst into Bucky’s place. Where she would usually find different underwear tossed around the floor and small parties in his room, now she sees a metal armed dude sprawled on the sofa, face deep into not one, but two huge pints of Stark Raving Hazelnuts from Ben & Jerry’s, while Home Alone plays on the TV, and an Alpine lays comfortably on his lap.

Her little head perks up once Nat’s steps into the room. At least one of them acknowledges her presence.  

“Jesus, Bucky...”

He then moves his gaze to her direction, showing off his puffed eyes while shoving a huge spoon of ice-cream in his mouth, “What?” He speaks with a mouthful, “Breakfast?” He makes an offering gesture with the pint.

“I see you at least put on your uniform,” Nat ignores the offer, stepping towards him, kicking aside the many remains and open packages of junk food on her way. She slaps his leg off the sofa so she can sit beside him. As he grumpily adjusts his position to give her room, an equally grumpy Alpine jumps off his lap and aims a gaze of sheer contempt at Nat, before sauntering towards her plate of food in the kitchen.  

“Well… Show must go on, right?” Bucky answers while his saddened gaze fixes on the tv again.

Nat just stares at him for a moment, her heart twisting in sorrow at his miserable demeanor, “Listen…” she says, with a softer tone, “I checked, she really is on a mission.” At that, she spots the twitch on his jaw, but he doesn’t look back at her, “Apparently it was some last-minute thing about Thor and earthly technology.” Nat frowns and shrugs, “That’s probably the reason why she’s not picking up your calls or mine for the last couple of days. She’s just busy. You can talk to her when she comes back.”

“Why?” He puts the pints of ice cream aside as his face snaps at her.

Despite the initial harshness on his tone, there’s no trace of anger there on his expression. Just… sadness… and, honestly, Nat would deal better with the anger. She’s never seen Bucky like this… not after he came back from Wakanda.

Bucky breathes in a shuddering breath, like it’s painful for him to even do that before he continues speaking, “The guy is back to her place, Nat… all his fucking boxes and clothes and shit next to hers. They’re back together. That’s it. I honestly don’t wanna listen to her telling me how much that guy matters to her…” His voice cracks, but he goes on talking, “That she and I was fun, I was a good fuck and all but not good enough compared to ten years with that…” He huffs, “That douchebag. I don’t wanna hear her saying he’s the real deal and not me.” He bites on his cheek, looking at Nat with eyes becoming glossy, “I just don’t think I can.”

“Bucky…”

“Ugh, no, seriously Nat, fuck,” he growls while he narrows his eyes and his jaw tightens, “Seriously, that guy… if he only… shit… he doesn’t deserve her.” Indignance pours out of his voice, which comes out through his teeth while his hands clench into fists, “He doesn’t appreciate what he has… ugh…” He groans, and lets himself fall back into the sofa, “But…” He sighs, and nods, licking his lips, “If that’s what she wants… I’m not gonna try and take it away from her. I won’t.”  He shrugs.

Like she’s sensing the distress in her human, Alpine materializes on the sofa, between Nat and Bucky, and lets out a meow before curling herself against his thigh. Bucky absentmindedly starts petting her neck, staring up to the ceiling.

Nat could hear the pain of his heart shattering through his words. As for her… regret creeps up inside her. Regret for starting this between Bucky and you. She had a feeling that things could go south, but in all the scenarios she pictured for that, Bucky being the one heartbroken definitely wasn’t one of them. And yet, there he is. Devastated. Completely fucked. In a way she never thought she would see him for… love.

Damn… 

“Are you guys ready?”

The three of them turn towards the voice, spotting Steve there, in his full gear and his signature worried and yet soft look that belongs to Bucky.

“Yup,” Bucky taps on his thighs and grabs Alpine in one hand, who meows loudly, and two suitcases, one bigger and one smaller with the other one.

“Are you seriously taking her with us?” Nat checks, following him towards the door.

“Wherever I go, she goes,” he answers, his voice as down as his face.

“Buck,” Steve puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder, stopping him at the door, “Are you sure you’re ok to go on the mission, I can-“

“I’m fine, punk,” Bucky cuts him off, “I’m a grown ass man, I can handle my feelings.” 

As Bucky walks past his friend and moves to the elevator, Nat exchanges looks with Steve. She’s heard Bucky saying that exact sentence numerous times lately, after he acknowledged the way he feels for you.

The difference is that the usual confidence is just not there anymore.

~~~

You’re frowning while looking down at him. His words making their way into your senses. 

You free one hand of his secured hold to reach over and cup his smiling face.

He leans into your touch.

You make a decision.

 Your heart and mind are finally set together in what you now know you want. Hell… you think you know this for a while, but now… with Eddie bringing all those memories and telling you all of that, it did help you get through the split in your heart and mend it back into one. A whole new heart.

One that is all his.

His.

“Eddie,” your voice is soft, while he smiles up at you, “I remember all of that.” You smile, too, referring to the box of memories next you, “Every single memory… everything we shared… those ten years… they helped me mold me into what I am. There’s no me, there’s no what I am today without them,” you state, while, with your thumb, you caress his cheek.

Eddie nods, “There’s no me without you, either, that’s why I’m here.”

“But, Eddie…” you sigh and lick you lips, “Remember how you’ve told me a couple of times I seem different?”

The smile on Eddie's face slowly drops.

“That’s because I am… I’m not just… I’m not just that anymore.” You nod towards the box, “I found out there’s more in me, and honestly, I think there’s more in you, too, that just doesn’t fit to what we used to be anymore.”

He blinks repeated times, staring up at you, and you lean even closer and cup both sides of his face. 

“I’m sorry. This is all part of who I am. You’re part of who I am. But I can’t go back.” You shake your head, “I can’t.”  

He keeps his stare on you and, after a moment, like he’s been processing what you said to him, he lets out a huff, “Are you serious?” he harshly pulls your hands away from his face and gets up, “Are you fucking serious? Is this because you’re fucking that guy?” He raises his voice, gesturing away.

“Eddie…” You tilt your head as a warning sign.

“No, seriously, you’re trading me, you’re trading us for what?” He spits and points to his chest while his face contorts into something ugly you’ve never seen on him before, “A player who will throw you in the trash for the next nicer piece of ass he sees? For what? A good fuck? An eight pack? A few more inches of dick? Come on…”

“Hey,” you snap, rushing up from your seat to level him, “What the fuck, Eddie?” You curse, as he stares back at you defiantly, “First of all you don’t get to talk to me like that, you lower you goddamn tone.” You point a finger at him, “And, honestly? Bucky is not just “that guy” to me. He’s not a player. You don’t know him, and you don’t know who I am with him, you could never know.”

Through the anger bringing red blurs to your vision, you see when his Adam bone bobs, but he keeps an insolent chin lifted up and he has struck something in you by talking about Bucky and your feelings for him in such a belittling way.  

“I didn’t want things to end like that,” you continue, shaking your head, “I really didn’t, but if you’re talking shit you don’t know the first thing about… ugh… fuck that,” you let out a harsh breath, “In one month or so Bucky respected and appreciated me more than you did in ten years. With him I don’t have to pretend I like or don’t like things just not to upset him or whatever, I learned I can be fun and honest… and…  and he fucking eats my pussy, for God’s sake,” you burst out in a rush of spite.

Eddie takes a step back, completely stunned by your words and outburst, while a dead silence settles in the room.

“Wow,” he mumbles nodding his head and looking away from you.

You shut your eyes and breathe in deeply, letting your head drop for a moment, while reason starts to come back to your senses, “Shit… shit…” You curse under your breath, looking up at him again, “This is not about that, Eddie…” you say, being honest with him and yourself, “I loved you, I really did, you are so important… I appreciate our time together so much… but now…” You press your lips in a taut line and shrugs, “It’s over…And, yeah… Bucky may be in my life now, but-“

He snorts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. There’s pure scorn in his gaze for you, but you decide to ignore that. Eddie really matters a lot to you and you don’t want to end it in such a bad note. You want closure for the two of you, so both of you can accept what you had is over and move on with your lives. 

“But this is not about him. Not completely, at least,” you continue, “It’s us Eddie.” You plead, taking a step closer to him, “Our relationship meant the world, but… but I think we outgrew it-”

“You speak for yourself,” he spits.

You sigh at the anger that is still there, spilling through his voice, but you nod, and speaks softly, “Ok, then… I outgrew our relationship, but even if you think you haven’t, that doesn’t mean it would be good for you to insist on something you realized at some point it wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You can’t deny that.”  

You gasp and try to keep your balance when he drops on his knees and latches himself at you, hugging your waist tightly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I caused all this, but please don’t leave me, don’t give up on us,” he begs, his voice breaking, pressing his cheek on you, “Please… please.”

“Eddie… Eddie…” You try catching his attention, as he keeps his chant of remorseful and begging words,  “Stop... stop, Eddie, come here.”

You reach down for his forearms, adding some force to pull him up, to which he lets you. 

When his weeping face levels yours, you gently wipe the tears falling down with your fingers, “You ended this because you weren’t happy, either, and it’s ok. It’s ok to let go,” you say, gently, before cupping his face and fixing your gaze on his, “Let go, Eddie. Let go.”

He exhales, his eyes shutting. While you keep gentle hands on his face, he brings his forehead to yours.

“We’re gonna be ok,” you whisper, wishing that he would understand that moving on is the best thing for the two of you.

At that, he harshly parts himself from you. Hurt and rejection plastered all over his face while he averts his gaze from you.

“Eddie… I don’t know what else to say,” you heave a sigh.   

Before he gives you the comeback he’s about to give you, which you know it wasn’t gonna be a nice one, your phone rings. Nick Fury’s ringtone.

“Shit,” you curse, “I’m sorry, I need to pick that.” You rush and reach out for your phone on the center table, “Yes, Sir… of course… absolutely. I’ll gather my team and will be there in one hour, tops. Alright.”

“It’s work…” you tell Eddie, looking down as you turn off your phone.

“On a fucking Saturday night?” Eddie scoffs, not looking at you.

“Thor is on a solo mission and needs assistance from my team. Fury asked me to lead it. I…” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back at you, “I need to go change,” you say, defeated by his refusal to engage with you or with what you’ve been trying to tell him so far.

Once you come back from your bedroom in a hurry and ready to leave, Eddie is there in the living room, now sitting on the sofa.

“Are you sure?” He asks once you walked over the sofa and met his dull gaze.

“Yes.”

He nods slowly, biting his cheek.

“I’m gonna need to go now, Eddie,” you tentatively say. You step closer to him, but he turns his face to the other side and you take the hint. Stopping on your track.

“What of this place?” He gestures around.

You look around the place you two got together and as from that moment, you don’t see yourself in it anymore. Satisfied with your decision, you walk towards the key hook on the wall and he watches as you come closer to him again and take his hand from his lap, putting the keys in his palm.

“This place is not mine anymore,” you give him a tight smile.

You hold his hand a little longer while his gaze lingers at where you’re touching him.

“Goodbye, Eddie,” you say.

When he doesn’t give you an answer or even spares a look your way, you sigh, deeply. If that’s how he wants it to go, so be it. Letting go of his hand you walk to the door.

As soon as you step aside from your now former home, you realize you’re also walking towards a new phase of your life and you take in a big and refreshing breath before a loose smile forms in your lips. There’s only one thing in your mind, now. Or better, one person.

Bucky.  

~~~

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

This Is Still Marvel, Right?

Summary- 2.5k Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Wade Wilson x You. Deadpool the character from the comics is sitting across from the table from you, real right in front of your eyes. Not only is time travel a thing, but dimension travel is as well, and he is here for a very serious reason. Warnings- swears. Written for @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ CATFA 10th Anniversary Challenge. Prompts are highlighted. 

Masterlist

“You came from where?” Sam questioned with a tilt of his head, arms folded across his chest as he raised a quizzical brow at the man in all red. 

“And why the clown suit?” Bucky right next to him asked, trying to make sense of what was going on. 

“I’m from the X-Men verse, you know… bald dude in the wheelchair, Wolvie with butter knife hands, we have our own pigeon boy. Not as sweet as your wings though.” Wade said with a sigh. “And we had a Peter, but the winds… god the winds were too strong. I will never forget you Sugar Bear.” He sobbed in his hand a moment, sniffling a moment. 

You were thoroughly in shock, your jaw was dropped to the floor as Wade mother fucking Wilson sat in the interrogation chair, one leg crossed over the other, his ankle jiggling as he leaned forward on his elbows, planting his chin in his palms as he made an cooing sound at the two men. “Aww, they are so cute when they are confused, aren't they cute? The cutest little puppies.” He went to boop Bucky's nose, but Bucky reared his head back away from his hand and a whir of his hand closed around Wade's wrist, which caused the masked mercenary to gasp out excitedly. 

“THE WINTER SOLDIER ARM, VIBRANIUM UPGRADE. I keep telling Cable he needs this hook up, his isn't nearly as cool as yours. Mister Bucky Barnes Sir, can you sign my suit? I’m a super fan.” the white eyes of his mask widened and you finally managed to close your mouth watching all this.

Whatever this was, you were actually wondering if you weren't in some drugged hallucination right now. Mission gone wrong? You had eaten that turkey sandwich out of the compound fridge, maybe it was drugged and this was someone's payback for stealing their food.

“Come on man.” Sam snapped out, still trying to get a straight answer out of him. Bucky let go of his hand which Wade muttered to himself. 

“I'm never washing this hand, not ever.” He cradled it to his chest. “Just wait till I tell Chrome Dome who shook my hand.” 

“ANSWERS!” Bucky yelled out and Wade gasped at the outburst. Bucky reached over to grasp the mask and yanked it off, grimacing as Wade's appearance showed. Both Sam and Bucky recovered quite quickly, you were still freaking out in the corner and Wade gave a suggestive wink to the two of them. 

“Names Wilson, Wade Wilson. No relation to this saucy stud though.” He eyed Sam up and down with a purr, who scoffed at the sudden attention. “Don't worry, I know that one is crushing on you hard. The chemistry. I won't make a move on you. Winter Soldier though is fair game, eh?” He made a chef’s kiss motion after pointing at you. “So are you two… do you… fondue?” Wade asked, Sam and You looked at each other and made disbelieving faces at one another. “Oh we're not admitting feelings? My bad. I jumped ahead in the comics. So much sexual tension.” Making a donut shape with one hand and a pointer with the other, meshing them together, you could feel your throat close up and Sam’s eyes widen. Bucky was struggling to keep his calm at this point, Sam too. Wade made a motion to stand and get up. 

“Do we have any eats here?” He puts his hand on the handle to open the door and a knife flung through the air, landing right next to his face. Wade paused and turned around. “Here I thought this was still Marvel and not Dc. Tony would have offered me a snack by now.” He grumbled while sitting back down. “A falafel, blueberries, I know he likes to snack, I've seen the movies.” 

You finally got over your shock and went to sit across from him. “Mr.Wilson…” 

He put up a hand. “Pool please, Deadpool. Or Wade. Or you can call me Captain Deadpool. Too much?” He glanced up at Sam and Bucky. “Yea too much, just call me Wade.” 

“Wade.” you started again, trying to figure out how to approach this. “We’re confused, because you are a comic book character.” You pulled up your phone and pulled up a screen clip of his movie. 

Wade gasped and grabbed at your phone, studying it. “Look at that handsome son of a bitch. I'm so glad they picked Ryan Reynolds for the part, he looks just like me.” He held the phone up next to his face. “He’s so good looking, it's the Canadian genes.” Then handed it back, you tucked it away and he leaned forward to toss what looked like a beat up comic book on the table.

“What’s this?” You question, pointing at it.

“A comic book. You guys are just comic book characters and I'm here to fix your story. What? You seriously didn't know you are comic book characters in another universe?” 

“Our story?” You pulled the comic towards you and sure enough plastered on the front was Sam in his Falcon Suit, Bucky with his own gear and you were soaring in the air above slightly out of focus. 

“Yes, your story. Listen Cable, you all know Cable right? He's like a moodier you Buckaroo…” The name caused Bucky to growl a bit, but Wade continued without noticing. “... hooked me up with this cool device. Not like those stones you all have, this is some actual batman kind of future fuckery that I got rigged to not just travel back in time. But other dimensions. Whoo... “ He made wiggly fingers. “It's like magic right? Cool.” 

You were flipping through the pages as fast as possible, skimming the storyline. Amazingly all of it was there, the mission report Nick Fury brought Sam this morning, you and Bucky sparring and how he pinned you against the mat, the heart to heart about how you two missed Steve. 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose while Bucky looked over your shoulder at the comic book. “I'm getting a headache, or I'm losing it. Did I get hit in the head?” Sam rambled a bit and you got to the end of the comic, seeing that the mission Fury had given you three was completed, successfully. 

“Says there we did just fine.” Bucky said and you closed it before pushing it towards the center of the table. 

“It's not all just fine.” Wade threw up his hands in exasperation and you shook your head so confused. 

“Explain it to us Wade.” You grasped the comic again, flipping through it, scanning the pages as quick as you can. 

“Go to page 53.” He tapped his finger against the steel table and you did, the panel showing you and Sam standing on a roof top about to enter a building from above and Bucky was shown in another panel scaling a building. 

“I don't see it…” you shook your head confused as to what he was talking about and Wade pointed at the bottom, that was just barely in view. A hot dog cart. 

“You are here, from another dimension of life… because of a hot dog cart?” 

Wade nodded firmly. “If we don't protect that hot dog cart, bad things will happen.” His voice lowered, turning shifty. “Spooky stuff… anal stuff.” He shuddered and sat back, staring at the hot dog cart in the bottom of the picture. “If we don't protect that hot dog cart, it causes issues you couldn't even fathom. Another life just poof… what did y’all call it? Spanked out of existence?”

You just automatically corrected him. “Snapped.”

“Spanked sounds better, maybe consider changing it to spanked?” 

Sam cleared his throat. “You traveled through dimensions to get here so we could save a hot dog cart? I'm just- trying to keep it all straight. This isn't entirely the weirdest thing I have heard, but it's close.” 

Bucky scoffed. “I say this guy needs some help, maybe his brain got scrambled like mine.” 

“Nah, I didn't get the mind trip you did. I was tortured by a guy named Francis.” Wade snorted gleefully. “Called himself Ajax, like the dish soap!” Slapping his knee, he busted out laughing heavily, starting to cry. 

You rubbed at your face and looked over your shoulder. “I think we should trust him guys. What if what he says is true? We’ve dealt with crazy shit before.” 

“You can't be serious Y/N.” Bucky shook his head and Sam looked doubtful. Wade giggled as he wiped a tear from his eye, pointing a finger at you. 

“I like you, you're the smart one here I can tell.” 

You all turned to Sam who hadn't said anything yet. He sighed and rubbed at his face a bit, before finally saying under his breath. “I'm never going to hear the end of this… Lets take him.” 

Wade did a fist pump in victory, leaping up to grab his mask back from Bucky. “X-Force Ass-” You were quick to cover his mouth, leaving the “-emble” garbled. 

“He's going to get us killed, Wilson.” 

“I said to call me Deadpool or Captain Deadpool.” 

“I WAS TALKING TO HIM!” Bucky jerked his thumb at Sam, gritting his teeth while he yanked open the door and left the room. Deadpool followed after him, the next thing you heard was Bucky hollar. “I'm going to kick your ass Prick.” 

“Will you? You're making me all excited. Like a fairy making a little girl's wishes come true, I feel like I could fly.” 

Then you and Sam heard something loud crack and Wade’s cooing grew fainter. “Nice boots, Tinkerbell!” 

You snatched the comic book and stuffed it in your back pocket. “Uh we probably better go stop Bucky. It's pointless for him to try to kill Wade and will just tire himself out.” 

Sam opened the door, holding it open for you. “Should we really take that away from him?” 

“True and it sounds like Wade is having himself a fan moment anyways and doesn't care.” You stepped out to see Bucky and Wade tangled together wrestling.

Just as the comic stated, You and Sam were able to go in from the top. You could see Bucky below you using rigging to scale the building. Down further below you could see a red dot pushing a hot dog cart down the street well out of harm. Speaking into the comm’s, your wings folded to pull you into a spiral, spinning towards the roof. “Wade’s got the cart moved, and were clear to enter.” 

There was a grunt in the comms and Bucky's voice crackled through. “Well damn, I'm glad the hot dog cart is safe… for reasons spanning an entire dimension that we still don't know.” 

“Who are we to question it, Bucky? I mean, we’ve seen some pretty strange shit.” You stated as Sam landed next to you, shooting at the door and ducking inside together. “Maybe this is just another one to add to the pile.” 

Silence descended on the group as you each made to fulfill the mission. Once the building was clear and the three of you were working on exiting, Wade was waiting on the roof, sitting on the edge eating a hot dog and had three more lined up next to him. “I brought you all lunch, you guys do that sort of thing right? Good Mission? yes I bet. Buckaroo has the happy murder gleam in his eyes.” He took another bite of his hot dog and chewed while studying Bucky closely. 

“Don't do that.” Bucky shuddered a bit and Wade proceeded to pop the last bite into his mouth and chewed slowly while rolling the bottom half of his mask down. 

“Do what Buckaroo?” 

“Stare at me or call me Buckaroo.” 

“While eating a hot dog? Only way to properly eat one. I know you love it James. Well my mission here is done.” He pushed off the ledge to give you a hug and handed you a manilla envelope. “This is for you, it explains everything. Toodleloo Kiddies, it was fun knowing you. Oh and if you see Hugh Jackman on the street, tell him his coffee sucks and bitch slap the prick.” He jumped back on the ledge and looked over the edge. “Oh this is gonna kill my knees but this is a true superhero moment. Wait for it…” He gave you all a salute and stepped over, plummeting down. Sam and Bucky rushed the edge, looking over. 

You knew better, a superhero landing wouldn't kill him. 

“NAILED IT!” you three barely heard, then in a flash of sparks, Deadpool was gone. 

“I thought for sure he was going to pancake down there.” Bucky said with a hint of sadness and Sam shook his head. 

“We gotta get out of here before we're caught and get this back to Fury.” Sam held up a chip that held the actual intel of the mission. 

You silently agreed and together the three of you made your way off the building and back home. 

Afterwards once you were back in the tower and changing out of your suit, you glanced at the manilla envelope Wade left you. 

Sitting down on the bench, you opened it and peeked in. What looked like another comic book was in there as well as a letter. Pulling out the letter, you scanned it. 

~To the Super Duper Trio, 

Thank you for believing me. It was crucial. We're not the only comic book verse out there living our lives. Sometimes they cross intersect in ways that I can't explain, go find the wizard, he can tell you more about it. Also ask him to your next party, because he can do the COOLEST TRICKS. But if you take out the comic book enclosed you will see on page 23 there is a hot dog cart as well as a familiar looking dork named Jake Jensen. Alias- Capt Jensen. 

Perhaps your Captain is alive in some way, the DC universe having changed him to a loveable, cat hating, Petunias loving, super smart idiot.

Tell Birdman thanks for the vote of confidence, caw caw mother fucker.

Tell Buckaroo he forgot to sign my suit, I will be back. He is my favorite after all. 

And what I wanna tell you is take care of those idiots so they dont kill each other. 

With Love, 

Captain Deadpool

Ps- Yes Cap’s as awkward with women in DC as he was in Marvel. 

Pss- Welcome to X-Force! I will be in touch. 

You pulled out the comic book and glanced at the cover seeing six people staring down, the title of the comic- The Losers. Flipping to the page, you found a photograph tucked in between the pages, showing another version of the page. One where the street looked demolished and a man lying crumbled by a cart. Also a familiar hot dog cart leaned on its side, demolished. 

Setting the picture aside, now you glanced over this panel to see the same man making a show of pulling out a crossbow, the bubble above his head with the words “That’s right, bitches, I got a crossbow!” 

The scene didn't really surprise you that much, more like the character now alive in the comic looked just like Steve. 

A thinner version, he had facial hair, and the entire get up was never anything Steve would have willingly worn. 

But it looked just like Steve Rogers and for the second time that day your jaw dropped. 

Maybe Wade Wilson was right, after all… 

Nothing was off limits and stranger things have happened.

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hi, I have this super specific idea so feel free to ignore this one lol. So basically, Annie and the reader have been dating for a while, like at least a year. And the reader is in the survey corps right, so during one of the missions she ends up getting injured in an explosion and she's like all burned up and covered in injury's that'll scar really bad. And so the reader gets taken to a hospital or med bay or whatever, and she's been out for days, and like Reiner, Eren, Mikasa, etc. are all there, ya know her little gaggle of friends. And like she's been unconscious for days but sometimes she'll wake up for a few minutes and pass out again. So when Annie gets the news and comes to see her she like starts to wake up, and when she's coherent Annie is holding her hand and says "I'm glad you're alive" or something, then the reader just kinda stares at her for a minute and says "are you one of my friends from the cadet corps" and everyone's shocked and Annie kinda runs off. And ass the reader gets better she's allowed to walk around town and shit as long as someone's with her because she he's trouble walking, and she like can't hold things in one of her hands without shaking like she's about to fall apart. She basically hos no memories of absolutely anything so if someone says that their friends she just believes them and wants to be with them, which is a contrast to how she was in the cadets because she was always super short tempered and would pick fights with everyone, but she always had a soft spot for Annie and would follow her around and shit while being an ass to everyone else. So now she has no memories, blind as shit, can barely walk, and is super kind and polite to just about everyone. And like she insists on Annie seeing her and wants to go with her wherever she goes and is all smiles and happiness while Annie is kinda having a crisis. Because they were both very closed off people and they opened up to each other and built unwavering trust and loyalty but now one of them doesn't remember, Annie wants to help her but at the same time she feels that it's for the best if they stay apart, uh spoiler they don't stay apart it's just gonna take time. I'm really sorry this was so long dude. Also please tell me this made sense I haven't stopped think about this for days

I- It’s a little confusing but I think I get it.

Let me know if I get anything wrong!

I also included a lot of platonic AruAni because it’s cute.

Unbearable

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Implied season 3 spoilers

Category: Both angst and fluff (somehow)

Summary: After getting seriously injured in a mission, Annie’s s/o doesn’t recognize anyone, and is left very weak. Still, Annie and her S/O stick together through the recovery.

Words: 5.5K

It’d gone wrong. It’d all gone horribly wrong.

A freak accident—only preventable by, perhaps, closer gear inspection, but it was far too late for that. The damage had been done.

The most recent Survey Corps mission was just concluding, and you managed to call yourself one of the lucky ones who survived this far. Erwin led the charge back to the walls at full speed, having completed the objective by the skin of his teeth, but an abnormal titan was tagging dangerously close behind.

The towering beast approached closer and closer, until it kicked the horse you were on, sending you and it abruptly flying through the air and away from the Scouts.

It took you a minute to regain your senses and realize the gravity of your situation. Your horse lay dying 40 feet away from you. Clearly, it would be of no help. The abnormal lurched towards you unnaturally, and your eyes widened in fear.

A quick movement of your upper body caused a jolt of pain to shoot up your chest, and you were positive you must’ve broke a few ribs when you collided with the dirt.

Still, you had limited time before the monster reached you, and you weren’t about to die that easily. You bore the pain in your chest as you stood up straight, beads of cold sweat rolling down your face as you surveyed your situation to find the easiest way out.

You were too far from your horse, and the rest of the Scout formation, and you were in no shape to run. Your head turned towards the walls, and an idea popped into your mind—you were going to scale the wall.

You broke into a quick sprint before you shot your ODM gear into the wall, flying towards it at lightning speed. Your back took the brunt of the impact, and you groaned in pain.

Still, it seems as if the abnormal wasn’t going to let you get a moment’s rest, as it caught up to you and tried to jump and grab you, but narrowly missed your boot. The rush of adrenaline kicked your body into gear as you shot the grapple of your ODM gear onto the ledge of the wall and hauled yourself up, a garrison soldier helping you before turning to man one of the cannons.

You stood up triumphantly on the wall, the titan below you still trying in vain to reach you. You could hear the distant shouting of a commander—and what you could out assume was the foreboding shout, “FIRE!!!”

And that’s where everything went wrong.

The cannon, no more than three feet to your right, exploded into a supernova of sparks and flames, and the last thing you saw was fire as blinding pain shot through your body.

And then it all went black.

---

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but only family members are allowed to see her at the moment, you’re going to have to wait until she’s discharged.” The poor receptionist sighed, staring up at the distressed woman in front of her.

“I don’t care if ‘only family is allowed’! I’m her girlfriend, I should be allowed to see her!” Annie shouted, dressed in a simple white hoodie and grey pants. An outfit too casual for her to wear outside in most occasions, but when she heard the news of your admission to the hospital, she didn’t care to change.

“I’m sorry, there’s really nothing I can do-”

Annie leaned in closer, grabbing the receptionist by the collar of her shirt and pulling her in, a dangerous look gracing her face. Her voice came out in a threatening growl.

“Look, I’m a part of the military police, so if anyone asks, I’m just her older sister,” She glared daggers the woman, who shook like a leaf at the intimidation, “Got it?”

The woman nodded urgently, sweating bullets at this point, and Annie was thankful the intimidation had worked. “R-Room 302...”

She didn’t bother letting out a response as she ran to the wing of the hospital you were in. She didn’t know quite where the room was, but she would find out soon enough.

After a painful few minutes of searching, her eyes found the plate outside of a closed wooden door, the number reading “302″.

She walked up to it, and took a deep breath in before twisting the doorknob and pushing her way into the room, but her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped at the sight.

She knew it was bad—after all, nothing good ever came out of being so close to an explosion like that—but she couldn’t have been prepared for what she saw.

You were laid down on the bed, clearly unconscious, and sweltering burns covered at least 60% of your body, especially your right side. Many limbs were elevated and covered in taunting white casting, and you let out shallowed, labored breaths.

She mentally cursed the primitive healthcare the Eldians seemed to have, and the lack of a doctor in the room. She was no professional, but you definitely didn’t look to be in a state to be alone.

She though you were alone, that is, until her rationality returned to her and she noticed many figures in the room, though none bore the staff uniform.

They seemed to notice her before long, and a few stared at her quietly with pity in their eyes. She scanned the faces that surrounded her; Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Reiner were all present in the room.

“What in...” Her voice came out short in her throat; the words were just as powerless as she was, “What in God’s name happened to her...” It was hushed, almost husky, and it sounded like she was about to cry. Maybe she was, but she didn’t notice.

Mikasa seemed to be the first one to speak up through the heavy silence, stepping forward to grab Annie’s attention.

“It was on the recent scouting mission yesterday. She narrowly escape a titan by climbing over the wall, but one of the Garrison’s cannons blew up.” Mikasa looked to the side, clearly troubled by the situation as well. “Of the four people caught up in the explosion, she’s the only one still alive.”

Annie didn’t process quite what Mikasa had said at first, her mind was more focused on a pressing question that suddenly arose in her mind.

“The only one still alive?” She echoed. “Why did you phrase it like that?”

Mikasa sighed, covering her mouth with her scarf—something she often did when she was troubled. “Well, the doctor is doing all he can at the moment, but she’s been drifting in and out of consciousness nonstop for the past hour. Even when she is awake, we can’t seem to get a coherent response out of her.”

She froze.

Her eyes moved back to your battered form. She hadn’t taken in exactly how bad it was until now. Shattered bones, burnt skin, compromised organs—you were nearly unrecognizable. Not in the way that you were scarred beyond recognition, but in the way that she never imagined to see you in such a state. You looked like you had, quite literally, went through hell and back.

She let out a pained sigh, slinking down in a chair next to the bed and staring at the floor in defeat. She reached out and grabbed your limp hand at your side, running her thumb delicately over your burnt hand, as if the slightest mistouch would cause you to shatter like delicate porcelain.

“Please...” She knew you couldn’t hear her, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to pretend, for a brief moment, that you could, and that you’d bounce right back up. But, you stayed limp on the bed, unmoving. “Please wake up...”

The others were able to read the room and came to a silent consensus, filing out of the room wordlessly.

She continued to hold your hand, sitting silently on your bedside for hours.

You never regained consciousness once.

---

Dreams flashed through her mind, the inner turmoil she faced was too fierce to not have such vibrant, nonsensical dreams. Dreams of you, spending late nights with her, or eating with her in silence. Dreams of your broken and bloodied body being sent flying from a hellish firework of flames. Dreams of visiting a newly dug grave. Dreams of—

A loud banging startled her out of her sleep, and she opened her eyes with a start, the dreams stopping abruptly as her brain pieced together the fragments of reality. Right, they were just dreams.

The banging—what was it? She looked around for a source. Nothing had fallen, nothing had moved, the room was still.

*BANG BANG BANG*

She jumped at the loud so, before facepalming internally. Of course someone was knocking on the door, what was she thinking?

A quick glance at the clock showed the time; 3AM. What is going on?

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she threw on some sweatpants, just presentable enough to answer the door.

She twisted the knob open and was greeted by...

“Armin?” She slurred, confusion and tiredness laced her voice.

“Annie...!” He had a strange look on his face, like he was in a hurry. Yet, it didn’t look like desperation, nor was it excitement. “Y/n woke up!”

---

She had never run faster. She didn’t care about leaving Armin in the dust at her front doorstep—hell, it didn’t even process until minutes later that she didn’t even close the front door. She just ran, ran, ran all the way to the hospital.

She made it to your room again, panting and desperate to see you again.

She went inside, and an immense wave of relief and joy washed over her face. It was true, you were conscious. Sitting up in the bed, talking to someone at your bedside, likely a nurse or a doctor.

Her loud footsteps and heavy breathing brought the attention of both you and the staff member to her, and you locked eyes with her.

She froze. There they were. The beautiful E/C eyes she had fallen in love with, and the same ones that filled her vision when she first awoke next to you in the morning. Except, something was off. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was disarray in your eyes. A storm.

She paid no mind to the rotten gut feeling, though, and rushed by your side to grip your hand tightly. A spark of sympathy arose in her chest when you whimpered in pain at the motion, but that was the last thing on her mind. Tears of happiness sparked in her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks.

She bowed her head—a sign of vulnerability that only you were ever able to see.

“Y/n, I...!” She choked out through the tears in her eyes, the back of her throat tightening with emotion, “I’m so glad you’re okay...”

You didn’t embrace her, you didn’t squeeze her hand back. No, you were still. Still as you were when your battered body was first admitted to the hospital. She looked up at you, and the same misguided look was in your eyes.

“Sorry... do I know you?”

---

She slammed the door behind her, locking it as she slid down the wall of her house, sobs wracking her body.

Her mind had neglected to process it until just now, but the truth was inescapable; you didn’t know who she was anymore. You didn’t know anyone or anything anymore.

Amnesia.

She couldn’t bear to see you like that. Seeing you so physically broken was bad enough, but seeing you confused and lost, years of memories and connections and friends just out the window? If there was a god, he sure as hell must’ve hated you.

She had no idea what to do. You weren’t going to just magically remember her. No, the Y/N she knew and loved all those years was gone. You were just a blank slate. She no longer meant anything to you, she was a stranger in your eyes.

She laid down to go to sleep, but she couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes. She didn’t sleep that night.

---

She chose not to get up the next morning. She stayed in bed, staring at the empty space next to her where you usually slept. She wanted you to be right there next to her. God, she wanted you back.

She would’ve stayed in her depressed, hibernated state for hours, or even days, had someone not stopped by to check on her.

She figured it would be Armin. The sympathetic blonde man would always stop by to check on her. Not just now, but throughout their days as cadets. He was always the second person—after you, of course—to check up on her and ask how she was doing.

But when she opened the door and saw Mikasa, she was a little confused.

“Mikasa, what are y-”

“Y/n wants to speak with you.” She stated flatly, and Annie physically recoiled at the mention of your name.

“She... what?” Annie muttered, confusion enveloping her tone.

She understood the statement, on a surface level at least. But she didn’t understand why. Why did you want to talk to her? She meant nothing to you. What was there to talk about anymore? You probably didn’t even know her name.

She complied silently, though, and before long, she had trudged herself all the way to the hospital.

302. Such a depressing number to her now. But it was unavoidable. You were on the other side of the door, awaiting her for some odd reason.

She pushed the door open, and her eyes met yours silently. You were sitting up with your hands folded neatly in your lap. Your eyes followed Annie as she wordlessly shut the door and took a seat next at your bedside.

“Annie.” The blonde women flinched at the sound of her name, eyes staying fixated on anything but your face. “Annie.”

She finally shifted her head, meeting your gaze. There was a pitiful look tracing her features. It would look like indifference at first glance, but being so close to her allowed you to notice small features on her face, like her sunken in eyes, and her lips, tucked into a frown slightly tighter than normal.

She looked like she was about to cry.

You moved your arm slowly, wincing internally as your wounds burned and ached, and took her hand in your own, rubbing your thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing manner. Annie didn’t want to enjoy it—she knew this wasn’t the you she had fallen in love with—but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering the simpler times, where small affectionate gestures like this were normal to her.

“Mikasa told me just about everything I’ve forgotten.” You finally spoke up. “About the Scouts, about the accident, about us.” A painful silence filled the room for a moment following the word ‘us’. Surely, it meant more to her than it did to you.

“Annie.” You squeezed her hand despite the pain shooting up your arm, and your hand trembled involuntarily. “I know I don’t really know you,” You chuckled lightly, “or anyone for that matter, but I want to spend more time with you. We can just restart, fall in love all over a-”

“No!” She snapped, the sudden outburst causing you to jump. Her distressed eyes softened when she saw you, almost as if she thought you were made of glass, and that you would break at any moment. “No... please...”

She stood up abruptly, dropping your hand to lay dormant by the side of the hospital bed. “You don’t even know me! What’s the point?!”

Despite her angry appearance, her bottom lip trembled, and her voice shook as she spoke. Pricks of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, but she wiped them away desperately.

“You forgot me, so I’ll forget you in return.” She turned towards the door, grabbing the knob firmly. Despite her desperate need to get out of the room, her hand trembled and shook, refusing to turn the knob.

“I’ll...” A small sob wracked her body. “Find someone else...”

---

Contrary to what her heart truly desired, she refused to see you. She forced herself to cut off all emotional ties to you—after all, you didn’t even know her. It was painful to even speak to you. Somehow, the loss had felt like you truly had died in the explosion. Sure, you were physically here, but all that was you was gone.

It was Armin who finally brought her out of her depressed slump. He saw the state of her after weeks of staying huddled up in her room. It was so unlike Annie. Her room was a mess, and so was she. Her hair was unkempt and unbrushed, and she hadn’t even showered at all. Clothes lay scattered across the room, and the trash can in the corner of the room had started overflowing.

It wasn’t a pleasing sight, but he couldn’t blame her.

He had offered to meet him at a local café to talk—albeit, after she showered. She hesitantly agreed, and went into the bathroom to get ready. While she showered, Armin absentmindedly picked up some of the scattered clothing, putting it in it’s proper place, and even emptied the trash can for her.

He saw the slight shock in her eyes when she came out, surprised, but internally grateful for his help. She didn’t show it verbally, but she gave a thankful nod, and he understood.

---

Armin brought the cup to his lips, the steam flowing from the cup blocking his face as he sipped his tea silently, and Annie took another bite of her glazed donut.

“So, Annie.” He turned to face her, setting his cup down. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sighed internally. Nothing yet had been spoken, but she knew it was about you. Her silence beckoned him to continue.

“I... No, we all noticed how you’ve been recently, and we understand it. Who knows what you’re feeling right now...” His sympathy went mostly unappreciated. She really didn’t want to be reminded of the depressive state she had fallen into.

“It’s completely up to you, but... we think it would be better for you if you decided to talk to her again.” Armin didn’t need to say who this ‘her’ was. Annie already knew.

She raised an eyebrow and considered his statement for a fleeting moment, but regained her stance. She wasn’t going to talk to you. No convincing from her friends would change that.

“See, the thing is, Y/N has been discharged.” He spoke, bringing the cup back to his face to preemptively fill the silence he anticipated.

No amount of emotional cover-up could hide the shocked look on her face. Part of her was ecstatic, deep down. She was glad you were well enough to leave. But, the other part reminded her that associating with you would only bring her more hurt.

“But, there isn’t really going to be any recovering from what she experienced, unfortunately.” He brought the cup back down onto the table, now empty of all it’s liquid. “So, the doctor advised that she be under careful supervision from someone at all times.”

Annie wasn’t stupid. She knew where this was going.

“So,” he huffed a breath of heavy air, “We decided that if anyone was going to take her in, it should be you, Annie. We want to take her back to live with you.” She could feel her jaw slack at the proposal, and a full-fledged war had just started in her mind. She registered he was still speaking, but was too conflicted to listen.

Once again, part of her mind was desperately trying to reach you. To take you in and care for you, and to ensure you have a safe and comfortable recovery with her. She could restart with you, and make new memories with you, and everyone else.

But she understand it would be painful. Unbearable, even. She might as well be taking care of a stranger. You didn’t act like Y/n, you didn’t look like Y/n, hell, you hardly even knew who Y/n was at this point. It would just hurt her even more, all she needed to do was get away from you—!

“Annie...!” Armin spoke firmly, slightly leaned over the table as if he had been prying for her attention for a while now. He reached across the table to grab her hand, causing her to gasp. His hand was warm. It reminded her of you.

“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice was soothing and inviting, and she was reminded once again of what great friends she had made in the 104th.

“You think it’s gonna hurt, and it will, I’m sure. I understand too. She doesn’t quite act like she did before, we all noticed. It’s...” He paused, leaning back in his chair and looking to the side. It had hurt him, too. “Strange. To see a friend like this.”

He leaned forward, pulling his hand away to place it back on the table. “But you have to do something! Separating yourself from someone you care about so deeply isn’t good for you.” He brought his head up slightly, staring daggers into her eyes. “And don’t lie to me. I know you still care about her. You wouldn’t be so conflicted if you didn’t.”

Tears pricked at her eyes once again. She didn’t want to get emotional, and certainly not here of all places. But she knew he was telling the truth. She still cared, and it wasn’t good for her to ignore you.

“Besides,” He stood up, turning to leave. “She misses you too, Annie.”

---

She made up her mind that day. She was gonna bring you back home.

It wasn’t easy. Both the emotional aspect, but also cleaning up her filthy room in such a short span of time. Still, she prepped it perfectly for your arrival. She cleaned up the room, organized her things, made the bed, and even bought a second pillow—surely, you two couldn’t share just the one.

Picking you up from the hospital was bittersweet. You managed to stay standing, although only with the help of a wooden cane. Your hand gripped the handle tightly, and you leaned a large portion of your body weight on it, just to not fall over.

You had changed out of the raggedy hospital clothes, finally getting to wear something comfortable after so long, but even with the cloth, the purplish-redish burn scars coated much of your body. It reached from the very fingertips of your right hand, all the way up your neck and part of your face.

Still, you smiled weakly and brought your hand up to wave at her.

She approached you hesitantly, but as soon as you tried to stumble over to her, she rushed up to support you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Easy, now.” She muttered. “You should be careful.”

“Right,” You chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, having seen the outside for the first time in weeks. It didn’t stop the stone walls from towering forebodingly over you, though, but you felt at least some freedom.

“Where are we headed?” You sighed, and started walking. Annie guided you for the most part, but you managed to get your injured legs to cooperate, somewhat. You hand trembled as it gripped the cane, and even step on uneven ground caused you to stumble, but Annie’s grip kept you upright.

“We’re going...” She hesitated. “Home.”

---

Early morning birds chirped their greetings through the open windows, and the sun shone rays of dawn down from the sky. A typical wake-up call to her.

That, and your snoring.

She opened her eyes and stretched, easing up the tension in her muscles, which had laid painfully dormant for the past eight hours. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her attention shifted to the mass attached to her side.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, and your head was buried in her chest. Despite having lived with you for a few weeks now, she hadn’t gotten used to the change. In the past, neither of you really cuddled in your sleep. You gave sweet goodnights and passed out on opposite sides of the bed just like that.

It was a welcome change, though, and seeing you tucked so comfortably into her side brought a smile and blush to her face. She ran a hand through your messy h/c hair, smiling softly as you stirred in response to the affection.

“...Mm?” You let out a groggy noise, having been woken up a little earlier than you were used to. Annie was always the morning person in the relationship.

“Good morning.” She cooed, removing her hand to sit up and get out of bed. Once she tried to stand, though, she felt a frail hand tug at her wrist. You grip was weak as a result of your injuries, and she could very easily wiggle out if she wanted to, but she faltered.

“C’mon...” You muttered, face down in the blankets, still halfway asleep. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Annie huffed in defeat, climbing back into the bed and shuffling back under the cotton sheets. You were back at her side in an instant, and she smiled once again. Even after everything, you were still just as cute as always when you were sleepy.

“We can’t stay like this for very long, you know.” She sighed, placing a warm, calloused hand on your back.

You groaned in annoyance at that. “Why’s that?”

“Armin and the others invited us out to get lunch. It’s been a while since the Survey Corps has had a day off.” She looked to the side before muttering quietly. “I also have to go to work with the military police... I’ve used up all my paid leave.”

“Oh... yeah, we should probably get ready.” Contrary to your tone, you were actually quite happy. Annie had been quite a bit overprotective of you since your injury, so you hadn’t gotten the chance to get out much. You couldn’t blame her much, though. You could hardly walk, eat, or do just about anything without assistance. You were glad she took good care of you, but it got a little overbearing sometimes.

“Let’s get up, then.” She said, slinking out of bed. You watched wordlessly as she slipped out of her night clothes into something more presentable, sliding her shirt over her head effortlessly. You couldn’t help but blush as your eyes trailed down her toned stomach.

She looked back at you with an unamused expression as she slid on a plain white shirt. “You shouldn’t stare, Y/n.”

“R-Right.” You looked away flustered. You had only technically known her a few weeks now, but man were you lucky.

Annie’s warm hand enveloping your own brought you back into reality, and you accepted her help wordlessly as you got out of bed.

She helped you out of your clothes and handed you something nice to put on for the day. It was a comfortable ritual the two of you got into, helping you get dressed in the morning.

She sat you down in one of the chair’s in her room, ordering you to stay put while she went to the military police mess hall to pick up breakfast for the two of you.

She came back into the room only a few minutes later, carrying two trays of food, and sat them down in front of both of you. It was a boring meal, typical of any military ration, but you didn’t complain.

“So, Annie,” She looked up from her food, still digging her fork into the baked potato on her plate. “Tell me a story.”

She smiled longingly, staying silent for a moment as she recollected her memories for a good story to tell. Ever since you lost your memory and started staying with Annie, you often spent mealtimes getting her to tell stories about you, her, and your other friends. About what happened in the 104th, and the Survey Corps, and sometimes, you’d ask Annie about her childhood and time before the military. She seemed very hesitant about the last one, but she still told you bits and pieces. You could easily infer that she didn’t have a very pleasant childhood, so you didn’t push the subject.

“Well,” Annie finally spoke, swallowing a gulp of water from her glass, having seemingly found a story she felt like telling. “One time, in the 104th, Sasha had managed to convince you to steal food from the pantry with her.”

You listened intently as she continued recounting the events, a sad smile on her face. “So you and her snuck in late at night, but Shadis heard both of you because of how loud Sasha was. So then, you two had no where to go but a tiny cramped pantry in the kitchen, and then—”

*CRASH*

You sat there like a deer in headlights as the glass shattered into hundreds of transparent shards on the floor, startling Annie out of her nostalgic trance.

“Y/n!” She exclaimed, standing up from her seat swiftly. She spotted the broken glass, mixed with the water it had held, and looked back at you. Once she pieced it together, she facepalmed.

“Y/n...” She sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you to not to try and pick up things right now...”

“Sorry,” You muttered. “I just wanted to see...”

Despite the severity of your injuries, you were quite stubborn. No matter how much Annie insisted that you not hold things in your state, you did so anyway. It seldom worked, since, like now, you always dropped it within seconds.

“It’s... It’s fine,” She sighed, leaning down to carefully pick up the larger fragments of glass. Once she got the larger pieces, she dumped them in the trash and knelt down in front of your chair on one knee, grabbing your hand in her own. “But you need to remember, your injuries haven’t healed yet. Nowhere close. I know you hate it, but you need to let your body rest.”

You nodded sorrowfully. Yet, despite how much you promised, you knew you’d never really stop trying to push your body. Even if your skin was scarred, and hands were shaky, and the muscles of your legs atrophied and partially-paralyzed, you would never stop trying to live a normal life.

Annie had finished sweeping up the smaller shards of glass in the dustpan, and dumped it into the trash can, before returning to the table.

Silently, she grabbed her glass, still half filled with water, and brought it up to your lips. When you had first started living with Annie, you were a little embarrassed about having to be fed like this, but you had long since gotten used to it.

Once the glass was empty, she sat it down on the tabletop once again, and checked the time.

“Shit, we should get going, it’s nearly time.” She sighs, grabbing your cane from it’s spot leaning against the wall and handing it to you. You thank her and, with her help, stand up from your spot. Her arm slinks around your waist, allowing you to lean half of your body weight on the cane and the other half on Annie.

As you made your way out of the building and down the street towards the restaurant, you finally broke the silence.

“Annie?” You asked, quietly. There was an uncharacteristic sadness to your voice.

“Yes, darling?” She inquired, keeping her eyes glued on the trail in front of you.

“How come you still take care of me? Even after the accident, you still stick with me. Why is that?”

Annie chuckles dryly. She doesn’t want to tell you that it’s still a sore subject for her, so she answers honestly.

“It wasn’t so black and white, really. It was pretty upsetting to see someone I loved so much not even recognize me at all.” Her eyes bore into the pavement below her feet. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken.”

“But a friend of mine talked to me about it. And I realized there would be no point in running from it. I decided that if you didn’t know me, I would make you fall in love with me all over again. Plus,” She looked to the side, a faint red blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t want you to feel lonely...”

You giggled at her embarrassment, opening your mouth to say something, but she cut you off quickly.

“We’re here.” She stopped in front of the doors, and you easily spotted Mikasa, Armin, and Jean already sitting inside at one of the tables, exchanging lighthearted banter.

“Hey Annie.”

“Hm?” She turned the knob of the door, stepping foot into the bustling room.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” You sighed, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Of course.” She smiled in return. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Oi!” Jean shouted from across the room, and Armin immediately tried to shush his yelling, but he wasn’t phased. “Annie, Y/n, hurry up!”

You and Annie giggle at his boisterous attitude, walking over to find your seats.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, Y/N.” Mikasa smiled warmly, tucking her scarf around her neck.

You smile at the three of them, looking so happy and peaceful. You’ve missed it.

“Yeah,” You laugh. “So, what did I miss?”

This feels badly written but I can’t place it, I dunno.

Probably ‘cause I wrote the first half like a month ago and only finished it today lol.

And no I totally didn’t reference someone else’s fic in this haha nope

[peachbear88]

So This is Love (Pt 5)

Inspiration: Only Us - Dear Evan Hansen

Throughout the next few months, you. notice a change in Wanda. She trusts you more, trusts everyone more, even if it was only a little change. You're delighted to discover that she's making an effort to bring the walls down and let people in, slowly but surely. Of course she still has boundaries but a lot less now, especially when it comes to you. The two of you became inseparable, wherever she went, you were by her side. When she couldn't sleep, you were there, comforting her. During missions, you were there, protecting her (it was more like her protecting you). Whatever the case, you were there to assist her. However, this all changed on one fateful night.

"Alright, what do you want to watch?" You ask as you pull the blanket down, engulfing the both of you in a fluffy mess. "Have you ever seen 'Dear Evan Hansen'"? She looks up at you with those huge puppy eyes, making your heart melt just a little. "Can't say I have. What's it about?" She lets out a squeal of excitement before snatching the remote control from your hand. "You'll have to wait and see." She grins before settling back down into the couch, unaware of the stupid grin on your face as you watch her bounce up and down with the energy of a thousand suns. "Alright squirt, you better hope for your sake that I like it." You tease, slinging your arm around her and you take note on how she flinches a little but leans into you. The musical sends her through a whirlwind of emotions and you can't deny, you did tear up once in a few minutes.

"The ending is so sad!" Wanda bawls as you pat her reassuringly on the shoulder, passing her a tissue with your other hand which she gratefully accepts, blowing her nose violently. "There there." You coo, checking the time only to realize that it's 2:00 in the morning. "I don't see why you like that musical so much." You get a warning glare to which you raise your hands in surrender. "Alright I better get you to bed before Steve murders me for being such a bad influence." She squints at you, her nose wrinkling which makes your heart flutter. You stand up, offering her a hand. She grabs your hand, pulling herself up, only to falter in her step, falling on top of you. "Ooh..." You groan, the air knocked out from your body. You open your eyes to find Wanda's face only inches from yours. Your brain kicks into high gear at her sudden closeness. You notice the little flecks of blue in her bright green eyes, the way her cheeks are flushed, the light freckles on her face. You're frozen, staring right into her eyes until you chance a look at her soft, pink lips. She notices the shift in your eyes and instantly rolls off of you, jumping to her feet. "I... uh- I'm going to go to bed. See you later." She mutters, a frown pasted on her face. You pull yourself into a seating position, grumbling to yourself. "I didn't even do anything."

Wanda spends the next few days avoiding you at all costs. Of course the team notices. I mean, how can they not notice that the duo were no longer conjoined at the hip but standing at the furthest ends of the room, making it their mission to be as far apart as possible. Nobody bothers you besides the occasional sympathetic glance. Your habits change from laughing and joking with Wanda and the group to opting to sit out on missions and team activities, and stay in your room.

Finally, Nat (being the badass she is) has enough of your mopey, lovesick behavior. You're sitting on your bed, reading a book peacefully when Nat storms into your room, slamming the door with a harsh BANG. It no doubt attracts a lot of attention but Nat couldn't care less right now. "Alright, you're going to tell me why you and your best bud over there are trying to keep 15 miles between the two of you and why you're dragging yourself around like some lovesick puppy that's missing a leg. You gape at her. "Uh, you ever heard of something called privacy?" You exclaim, shutting your book. She glares at you, unamused. "Answer the question Y/N." You sigh, placing your book back on the nightstand. "I don't even know what I did. I gave her a hand up, she tripped and fell, she crushed me, I looked at her lips and-," Nat interrupts, her eyes gleaming. "You kissed?" You wrinkle your nose in disgust, chuckling. "No you weirdo. She just rolled off me and left. And here we are, with her avoiding me like I've got the plague." She flashes you a sympathetic look. "Want me to talk to her?" You look up, giving her a small but grateful smile. "That would be really great." She gives you a gentle pat on the back before swiftly exiting, giving you one last fleeting glance.

Non-Reader POV

Wanda looks up to hear a gentle knock on her door. "Come in." She whispers. The door swings open to reveal Natasha. Wanda's heart falls a little as she hoped it would be you knocking on her door. Nat makes her way over to Wanda's bed, sitting down beside her. The two sit in a comfortable silence before Nat breaks it. "So... You want to tell me why you're avoiding Y/N?" She takes a shaky breath before answering. "Because of this feeling. It's not normal. It's exciting but terrifying at the same time. I guess you could call it love." Wanda appears to be on the verge of tears. Nat schooches closer to her, wrapping a firm arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "She's a good person, I know but I can't help but fear that one day, she'll be gone and I'll be thrown back into the hurricane of regret and remorse." She sobs, burying her head in Nat's shoulder. Nat doesn't reply, choosing to just hold her closer, occasionally muttering words of comfort. Unbeknownst to both of the women, you've been right outside the room, listening to Wanda, your heart cracking with every word that slips from her mouth.

"Nat, I really don't want to go outside." Wanda complains, as Nat hauls ass to drag Wanda to the balcony of the Avengers Compound. "Come on, I swear it'll be worth it." Nat groans, dragging a skeptical Wanda with her. Nat shoves open the balcony door and Wanda steps outside. "Wow..." She breathes, taking in the gentle fairy lights strung around the edge of the balcony, the thin plaid blanket covering the cold concrete floor and you, standing behind a portable piano.

Reader POV

"Thanks Nat." You wave at the ex-assassin, giving her a friendly smile. She winks at the both of you, stifling a laugh when she takes in Wanda's frantic expression. "Nat. Don't. Leave. Me. Here." Wanda whispers through gritted teeth. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. Have fun you two!" She smiles before locking the two of you out on the balcony. "Traitor." Wanda sighs, eliciting a giggle from you. She looks over at you and reluctantly sits down on the blanket. "So what's up?" You decide to go straight to the point. "I heard your conversation with Nat the other day." You mumble as you fiddle with the piano. Her eyes widen, a mortified expression plastered on her face. "I uh... I wasn't really sure what to say so... I decided to do this instead." You continue , taking a deep breath and before she can interrupt, you let your hands flow, playing a smooth string of chords.

"I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you."

"I don't need you to search for the proof that I should."

"You don't have to convince me."

"You don't have to scared you're not enough."

"'Cause what we've got going is good."

"I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken."

"I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget."

"Clear the slate and start over."

"Try to quiet the noises in your head."

"We can't compete with all that."

"So what if it's us, what if it's us, and only us.

"And what came before won't count anymore, or matter."

"Can we try that?"

"What if it's you, and what if it's me, and what if that's all that we need it to be?"

"And the rest of the world falls away."

"What do you say?"

You stop singing, your throat parched, your eyes watering slightly but all that matters is the chestnut-haired, green eyed girl in front of you. By the looks of it, she's as moved by the song as you are. She stands up, lip trembling before throwing her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug. "Ribs." You squeak, and she laughs through her tears, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you. "You remembered the musical. You said it was boring!" She sniffs. You stare at her adoringly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "So what do you say?" You grin at her cheekily but she beats you to it, leaning in and kissing you. Your eyes widen before you relax, leaning into the kiss, your hands on her waist, hers resting on your shoulders.

Little do you know that Steve and Nat have been watching your little performance and needless to say, it left Steve in tears and Nat with a soaking wet shirt as Steve sobbed into her chest. "They're both growing up s-so fast..." He hiccuped before sobbing uncontrollably again. "There there." Nat sighed, patting him halfheartedly on the back. "They'll be fine." She smiles watching the two of you pull away and watch the stars with the occasional adoring look at each other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 5! Wow! Damn I'm writing too fast for my own good. I just wanted to know, would you guys like for me to make a sequel series to this series or just write the rest of the story all in this one series? Because I got ANGST and DRAMA planned my dudes. Let me know!

Taglist: @username23345

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 2

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~2900

Warnings: Elevators, Angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Steve POV

“The 911 operator I was talking to had this great idea to use the hose to pull the little girl across the water to get her out of the pool,” Steve reminisced, sitting at the big island in the kitchen watching Sam cook.

“Dude, I was there, remember,” Sam replied.  “And hasn’t it been like a week since that happened?”

“Yeah, but it was such a clever idea. I didn’t even know they could see the whole house on their monitors.”

“Who cares! It’s probably some fancy technology not available on the market yet, but if I'm hearing this correctly, it sounds like she popped Stevie’s dispatcher cherry,” Bucky joked behind him.

Steve peeked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “My what cherry?”

“You know when you talk to a dispatcher on the phone while on scene. Danvers takes those calls most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, one of us takes it.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. “Who was the operator?”

“Um...YN.”

“Oh, my sister,” Thor announced in a deep voice, patting him on the shoulder and taking the stool next to him. “She is very intelligent.”

“Wait, you have a sister?” Steve asked, widening his eyes at him.

“I have two sisters, while one half-sister, but we don’t talk about her because she’s the worst,” Thor answered with pursed lips. “YN is the best though, I like to think she got the brains, I got the brawn, and well, I guess, that makes Loki the beaut of the family.” He nodded with a half shrug. 

“Are we still talking about how Rogers popped his dispatcher cherry,” Carol smirked, walking into the kitchen with Valkyrie. Steve felt his face heat up as he tried to say something, but she held her hand up. “It’s okay! Everyone remembers their first time,” She winked, forcing him to shake his head.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Steve held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide the blush on his face.

_____________

You swiveled back and forth in your chair, waiting for the next call to come in. You had a half-hour left of your twelve-hour shift, and you needed a girls' night out. Living with your brother and Darryl was both a blessing and a curse. They offered you a place to stay, rent-free when you first moved here, but the amount of testosterone in that house was sometimes too much for you to handle. You tapped your fingers on your desk when your line started ringing. You sat up, letting out a deep breath, and pressed the spacebar.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello,” a male voice replied.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m making a turkey and was wondering what the internal temperature has to be?”

“You do know it’s against the law to call with a fake emergency, right?”

“Yes, but this is an emergency.”

“No, it’s not, so get off my line.” You hung up the line, shaking your head. Right away, another call came through, and you answered it. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Hi, hello. My friends are trapped in the elevator. The elevator must have snapped or something because there was this loud bang.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Natural History Museum. Please hurry!”

____________

Steve sat in his unassigned assigned spot at the dining table, eating a late lunch with the team. It was the cardinal rule at Station 107: Work as a team and eat as a family. Steve never thought he'd be able to find another firehouse he enjoyed working at, considering his previous teammates and friends at his old one. He hated leaving them behind, but he needed a fresh start, and so far, Station 107 was the best second home he could ask for. 

Everyone brought something to the team as every firehouse did.  Captain Danvers, or Ace as she preferred to be called in the field, brought her confidence and experience, which made for a great leader they could trust and rely on. Thor had his strength and his bravery, but he did have an ego. Sam was a great motivator and could keep everyone on task while still cracking jokes. It was no wonder Sam was the head EMT at this firehouse. Valkyrie was a badass and wasn’t afraid to put people in their place. As for Bucky, Steve knew he would always be there for him till the end of the line. 

The loud alarm blaring throughout the firehouse pulled Steve out of his stupor. Everyone knew what that sound meant, and they were ready to tackle whatever it might be. One after another, they slid down the firepole, pulled on their gear, and hopped in the truck, heading towards the scene. It wasn’t unusual to take calls that didn’t involve fire because whoever could get there the fastest was better than no one showing up at all. 

Thor hopped behind the driver's seat of the fire engine, pulling out of the garage. Carol sat beside him, giving him directions while speaking with the dispatcher through her headset. The sirens were wailing with Val and Sam behind them in the ambulance. 

“Alright, boys. We got an elevator crash at the Natural History Museum,” Carol said into her helmet mic after speaking with dispatch. “Dispatch says three students and their pregnant teacher are inside.”

“What’s the plan, Ace?” Steve asked into his helmet mic, concealing the siren blaring in the background. 

“I have contacted the museum's elevator technician, and he has already locked and tagged the power on the cars. The car sits near the basement level, so we will approach from the top in the lobby. I want Thor on the winch…”

“Ahh---what,” Thor interrupted her.

“Calm down, big guy, you can have the next one.” She gave him the side-eye, making the rest of the crew chuckle. “Steve and Bucky are going to do an immediate retrieval and approach from the top. Sam and Val will set a perimeter and then treat those who come up. Then, I will help with the retrieval, and Thor with the winch,” she stated with the last part dripping in sarcasm.

“It still hurts,” Thor added, taking a right at the intersection.

Once on-site, everyone grabbed their gear and took their positions.  Steve and Bucky strapped on their harnesses and helmets, switching on the flashlight. They started scaling down the elevator shaft from the lobby as Thor lowered them on the winch with the retrieving rope.

“How we looking, Steve?”

“Sexy, but not like we are trying too hard, but it’s more kind of effortless.” 

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen Steve’s ass in that harness. It could be American’s Ass or more like LA’s Finest Ass,” Sam commented with a whistle, echoing in the shaft. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Steve landed on the top of the elevator, unhooking himself while Bucky did the same.  “I’m down and unattached.”

“That’s what she said,” Carol responded with her head appearing in the shaft.

Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “Classic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and used his other flashlight to find the hatch on top of the elevator. He unclipped the lock, opening the hatch door, seeing the top of the lights. “I’m Fireman Rogers, please move towards the buttons. I’m going to kick the light out, so we can get you out of there.” It took a few kicks, but once it fell through, a few faces peeked up at him.  “How are we doing in there?”

“Oh my god, thank god, you’re here. I thought we were gonna die,” one of the kids replied, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Calm down, Flash. Everything is fine,” the pregnant woman reassured. “Right?” She looked up at Steve with worried filled eyes, and he nodded.

“Watch out, I'm coming down.” Steve crawled down into the hatch, and Bucky passed him the spare harness.  “Ma’am, you’re going up first, but first we need to get you strapped into this harness, then we’ll pull you up.” She nodded, trusting him, and allowing him to put the harness on her before Thor used the winch to pull her up.

“Okay, boys, who's going to go next?”

“I’m next,” the one they called Flash stated.

“Okay, then, how about you with the cool hat.”

“Thanks, it gives me confidence,” the kid smiled.

“And then, you,” Steve pointed to the kid wearing a Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt.

“Um...yeah--” he nodded a little too much. “--Yeah...I can go last. Get everyone else to safety first.”

“Perfect.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

___________

It turned out to be a quick rescue, and no one suffered any major injuries. Steve took some gear out to the truck and started repacking it when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around, noticing the kid in the Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt wrapped in an ambulance blanket. 

“What can I do for you, kid?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. I’m...I’m Peter Parker.” He held out his hand, and Steve shook it. “I just wanted to say thank you...thank you for saving my teacher and my friends back there. We’re on our school trip from New York, and this was an adrenaline rush experience.” Peter held up his hand, and Steve noticed it shaking.

He chuckled. “It will wear off.”

“It felt like that opening scene of that old action movie. Where John Wick saves those people that were trapped in the elevator after the bad guy tried to blow them up with a bomb. They don’t catch him obviously because it’s the opening scene, but later he puts the bomb on the bus, and that Bird Box lady has to keep driving like fifty-five miles an hour, or the bus will blow up.”

“I know the one. I think you’re thinking of Speed, but I don’t think it’s that old.” 

“Yeah, yeah, that one,” he chuckled, pointing his finger at him. “It’s kind of old, I mean you’re kind of old, so it’s kind of old to you, but to me, it’s kind of new because I’m not that old.” He rambled on, his eyes widening, realizing what he was saying. 

“Peter, come on. The museum is going to show us some never before seen stuff because we almost died,” the kid with the cool hat shouted from across the street. 

“Coming, Ned,” he yelled back. “Thanks again, Fireman Rogers, and sorry about calling you old. I didn’t...”

“It’s okay, kid, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Steve watched Peter run back over to his friends with a smile on his face. It was these moments when he loved his job, watching friends and families reunite after a tragedy. It was these moments where he felt like it could almost fix what he lost. 

______________

You sighed, taking a seat at your usual spot at the end of the bar in Happy’s Hydrant. Happy noticed you right away and smiled, giving you a bottle of beer. You thanked him with a nod, taking a sip, and scanning the crowd. It wasn’t unusual to spot a familiar face, considering this bar was created for the heroes of Los Angeles. It welcomed all those members who served or are currently serving as first responders, but civilians were welcome, too. It’s nice to have a place to go with people you could relate to and share similar experiences with after working a twelve or twenty-four-hour shift. They understand what we go through on a day to day basis. It was one of the many reasons Happy Hogan wanted to open this bar after he retired from his Fire Chief position at Station 12.

You swiveled back and forth on your bar stool until someone familiar on the other end of the bar caught your eye. You stopped moving, your eyes not wavering from the man. Your mouth went dry, hearing your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You gulped, feeling your palms start to tingle as the muscles in your legs start to tighten. Every nerve in your body was firing, telling you to run, but it felt like if you moved an inch, he would see you, and these past three months would’ve been for nothing. He glanced your way for a brief moment, and relief flooded your whole body. You relaxed, squeezing your eyes shut as you took a few deep breaths in and out. It wasn’t him. 

The weight of someone touching your shoulder makes you jump off your bar stool, and turn around to see one of the ladies you were waiting for.  “Hey, it’s only me.” Carol held up her hands in surrender, giving you a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I forgot how jumpy you can be.”

“It’s okay. Lost in my head again.” You nodded, returning to your barstool.

“Thanks for giving my transfer a chance to be the shining star of my squad last week.” She nudged your side, flagging down Happy for a drink.

“Your what...with what,” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“The pool, the hose, the little girl stranded on a floaty with the water electrified. Ringing any bells?”

“Ohhh, right. That one.” You took a sip of your beer. “Fireman Rhodes or was it Ronin?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” You pointed the neck of your beer bottle at her and nodded. “You made quite an impression on him. He can’t stop talking about it, and it’s getting really annoying, but I guess you did pop his dispatcher cherry.” She nudged your side with an ever-growing smile on her face. You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head. “And if single you is interested, I am sure he is willing to mingle. At least, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not ready to start dating. I’m still trying to find myself after going through a terrible six-year marriage.” You gave her a half shrug, eyeing the bar. “When I am ready to date again, all I want is a nice guy.”

“Steve’s nice.  Hey, you should swing by one day before your shift and meet him,” she winked, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“I haven’t even filed for divorce yet.”

“Wait--” she turned on her stool to face you “--hasn’t it been three months? Why not?”

“I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

“Doesn’t he know where Thor lives?”

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Let's just say he didn’t take much interest in my life while we were together. Besides, I don’t think he'd think I’d go to Thor with how everything turned out the last time I went to him for help.

“What an asshole.” She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her beer, and you nodded.  “Well, at least you know you have an admirer,” she added, making you scoff.

“Hey ladies, sorry I’m late,” Natasha greeted, taking the other stool next to you. “Clint and I checked out this noise complaint a neighbor called in. And it turns out this guy was serenading his ex-girlfriend with hopes to win her back. It was this whole thing, and we wanted to stick around to see what happened next.” 

“So what happened,” Carol asked with curious eyes, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face.

“It was crazy.” She shook her head, letting out a breathy chuckle. “She came down and punched him in the face. Apparently, this dude cheated on her with, wait for it--” she drummed her hands on the bar countertop “--her brother. It was a twist I didn’t see coming, but talk about drama on duty. Sometimes I think it would be easier fighting fires or answering phones all day.”

“Oh please, Nat, you wouldn’t last a day. You would miss seeing the excitement first hand. Over the phone, you don’t get much excitement,” you replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Carol added, taking a swig of her beer. “You would love my job, Nat. You get to boss men around.”

“I kind of do that already. Besides, I don’t think I could leave Clint. He’d be lost without me,” she smirked, signaling Happy to make her a martini.

Natasha oozed confidence, which came off as intimidating to most women. When she walked into a room, all eyes were on her, but it was attention she chose to ignore. When men would buy her drinks, she'd take it to another lovely lady. Nat was all about lifting and empowering women to feel confident in their own skin. She wasn’t afraid to tell people to back off or shut up. She was the role model you wish you had when you were with him, then maybe you would've had the confidence and courage to leave sooner. 

“Here you are, Nat?” Happy pushed the martini glass to her. “Are you ladies still good?” He asked, pointing to the drinks in front of you.  

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, Happy,” you smiled at him as he walked away, shooting you a thumbs up. 

“How is apartment hunting going, YN?” Nat asked, taking a sip of her martini.

“Good, I found this cute little condo a few blocks away from work. It has a modern feel to it, but I think it would be perfect for me,” you described. “I loved it when I saw the pictures. The landlord is out of town right now, but she told me it’s mine if I want it.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Nat squealed, squeezing your forearm. “You need to get out of that testosterone-filled house and get on your own two feet again.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol agreed. “What’s your softie older brother going to think of you leaving?”

“I’m going to have to break it to him slowly.”

__________

AN: Thanks for reading part 2! I hope you all are liking it so far! If you caught it there was a quote from Brooklyn 99 that I thought was too good not to put in! 😂 Also, Darryl Jacobson, if you don't remember him, he was Thor's roommate in those Marvel shorts. I thought he would be a fun and entertaining addition to this story! Also, any ideas as to why Steve left his old firehouse? Did you enjoy the little Peter Parker cameo? And what do you think Thor is going to think of her moving it? Comments always welcome, thanks again for reading! 

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.

******

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”

[leggything]

Package Notification Pt.1

Package Notification

The subject line caught my attention as is flashed in the corner of my monitor. I clicked on the notification and read that a delivery had arrived at my apartment and would be held at the front desk until I was able to retrieve it. I wasn’t expecting anything but quickly put it out of my mind, it was probably a free trial I forgot to cancel or something. I deleted the email and went back to the report I had been drafting, hitting the back button on my phone a couple of times to replay the last few seconds of the podcast I had been listening to.

I left work a bit early. It was Friday and I wanted to beat the crowds on the train home. Unfortunately I wasn’t quite early enough to find a seat so by the time I walked through the door of my building I was only thinking about my bed.

The desk attendant perked up as I stepped in, “Hey Andy,” he said “I was just sorting the mail and a package came for you. Let me quick grab it.”

“Oh thanks so much Sean,” I said, pulling my headphones out of ear, “I would have totally forgotten.”

“No problem dude,” Sean replied as he rummaged behind the desk. He was a sweet kid, just out of college. His family was close the folks that owned our building so he usually came back to help run things over summers.

“And— here you are!” He said, as he popped back into view, blowing away a stray curl that had fallen in front of his eyes, “see you around!”

“Thanks again Sean, happy Friday!” I said, waving as I opened the door to the stairwell.

I turned the package over in my hands as I climbed the three flights to the apartment. It wasn’t a meal delivery kit or a pack of razors as I had suspected, just an unassuming grey plastic package with a normal UPS label. No return address for some reason. After fumbling for my key I unlocked the door, set my bag down and slipped off my shoes. Friday at last. It felt good to kick my shoes off after standing for so long.

Package still in hand I went to the couch and tore open its grey plastic as I sat down. Inside the bag my hands felt smooth woven fabric and something else that was stiffly textured. Out of the bag came an embroidered tunic and, as they unrolled in my hand, a pair of soft grey footed tights. My face flushed as I realised what I had received. A ballet costume.

I felt a mix of confusion and excitement. I certainly would have remembered if I had ordered something like this. I loved ballet, the beautiful precision of movement, the romance of the storylines, but really I was in it for the dancers. I loved watching them move, muscular yet flexible, lithe and powerful. The way their costume tights hugged every curve of their calves and thighs, squeezing each cheek of their powerful asses and the curve of their pronounced bulges, it was heaven. I definitely didn’t place the order for this costume, but it certainly didn’t come to me by mistake.

Reluctantly setting the tights and tunic down on the table, I glanced into the package again, looking to see if there was anything else. No shoes or dance belt, but there was a small piece of paper. I reached back in and pulled out the rough piece of card-stock. A note was printed on in flowing script:

Hope this turns your dream into reality.

x

Now I was nervous. I wasn’t exactly open about my, ahem, love of ballet. My closest friends and previous partners didn’t even know, and yet someone had anonymously sent gear to my home which meant my big secret wasn’t as secret as I thought. I pulled out my phone, there was one person who I had connected with online about ballet stuff, but they definitely didn’t know my address and I hadn’t heard for them in a week or so. Nonetheless I sent out a text:

Hey, I just got some ballet gear in the mail. You didn’t send me anything did you?

I was a little nervous and needed to chill out so I went into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Taking the first sip, I glanced back out to where the ballet outfit sat on the table. The anonymous package thing was weird, but it was also definitely hot. And though I loved looking at ballet dancers and often had fantasies about what it would be like to be one, I had never actually gotten up the courage to actually take a class or buy a pair of tights.

Taking another sip of my beer, I walked back out to the couch. I set down my beer and picked up the tunic. It looked and felt well made, different shades of gold and yellow thread in a brocade foliage design against white backing. It was short and tailored in at the waist, probably a bit snug on me, but on a slim dancer it would sit perfectly above the waist - emphasising their toned abdomen and, when facing away from the audience, their powerful glutes. I was getting a little turned on thinking about it. Whether I fit or not, I had to try it on.

I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped off my slacks, tossing them on the couch along with my socks. I hesitated a bit before taking off my underwear, the outfit hadn’t come with a dance belt, but I figured it’s be better to have a vpl than underwear lines. I was half hard already, even if I had a dance belt it probably would have still looked awkward. The soft fabric of the tights brushed against my bare legs as I picked them up off the table and held them up by the suspenders. At least they’d feel sexy to wear, even if I wasn’t quite fit enough to fill them out very well.

Sitting down on the couch I slid my leg into the grey tights, wiggling my toes into the seam at the bottom of the foot. They tingled a bit as I pulled them up over my calves and thighs, the soft tight fabric rubbing against the hair on my legs. As I pulled them up over my crotch they held my balls tight against me and pinned my now full erection against my belly. So much for a dance belt! Pulling the suspenders over my shoulders, I was greeted by the surprising sensation of the back seam of the tights snuggling up in between my ass cheeks. I didn’t have much of a butt to speak of, but somehow the tights still held tight to what little I had.

The tights ended just below my chest, and though I definitely didn’t have the ballet dancer build I still enjoyed seeing and feeling the uniform texture of grey fabric from my abdomen to my feet. I ran my hands along my legs, feeling the weave of the tights thrum with every touch, and my cock straining against the fabric.

I pulled my mind away from the hypnotic sexy feel of the tights, a little upset at myself that I hadn’t tried dressing up like this earlier. But I still had the tunic to put on. I wasn’t sure if I should have put something under it, but the lining was surprisingly soft and breathable against my skin. I stood up, slid my arms into the sleeves, and began hooking the fasteners that went up the front. The waist wasn’t as snug as I had feared and the structure of the garment helped straighten my posture, encouraging me to stand a bit taller than the hunch my desk job had trained me into.

Hooking the last fastener under my chin I looked down and realising I had come to stand with my heels together and my toes turned out, in what I knew to be “1st position.” And as I dropped my arms they fell nicely open and rounded at my sides, allowing my chest to open up and my shoulders to rotate backwards in perfect ballet posture. I chuckled a bit to myself, maybe I picked up more from watching so much ballet than I thought.

I tried to imitate the movements I had seen ballet dancers do, not crazy leaps or turns or anything, just pointing the toe out, to the side, to the back. I knew from somewhere they were called “tendus.” I let my arms move out to the side and above my head in time with my feet. I bent into a deep plie, letting my gaze follow my outstretched hand as it traveled out, to the side, overhead, and then started to repeat the same combination on the other side. I probably looked ridiculous trying to imitate the precise movements I had only watched, but it felt wonderful to move in the outfit.

As I continued to try new things, ronde de jambe, fouetté, attitude; I couldn’t remember where I picked up all these names, the costume felt like it fit me better and better. With each breath in my chest filled out the tunic a little better and my arms and shoulders felt stronger and more sure in their positions. Letting a breath out, my abdomen felt more compact and stronger in the long waist of the tights, my core offering steadier and steadier support and balance to my movement.

I moved from attitudes to a combination centred around arabesques, standing strong on one leg while reaching up and out with my upper body and back with the other leg. I took a couple of steps forward and went into the first arabesque, feeling strength and stability pouring into my standing leg, the grey tights stretched against my thighs, hips, and butt as I raised my other leg further up and behind me. My legs felt stronger and stronger as I continued around the room, my tights more snug and supportive as they nestled into the contours of my legs and sunk further between my ass cheeks. To finished the combination I moved to fifth position and took a small plie to lift up onto the balls of my feet, sous sous. Lifting my arms strong and graceful above my head I felt every muscle, from my calves to my core to my triceps working together to keep me balanced and poised. Satisfied, I descended into a plie and rose back up to finish the combination.

I stood there for a moment, relaxing back in first position and then blinked, blinked again. I looked back over at the table where my beer stood abandoned. Outside the window the sky was almost dark, how long had I been dancing, and how had I known how to do all that stuff? Feeling a little out of control I started to undo the top clasp of my tunic when I caught a look at myself in the hall mirror.

I did a double take, it couldn’t be me. I looked down at myself and then back at my reflection firm pecs, toned abs, powerful thighs clad in grey. It was me and fuck I was built. I turned around to see my now glorious ass, each cheek hugged beautifully by my tights, and noticed the cleft that had appeared on my toned calves - visible even though I stood flat footed.

I couldn’t help but touch, partially to make sure it was all real and partially because I was my own wet dream. I ran my hands along my firm legs and my slender waist and started to undo the tunic to check out my upper body. My laser focus while dancing had killed my boner but as I undid the tunic’s clasps I felt myself start to get hard again. It felt different though, still pleasurable but a different kind of pleasure. Breathing heavy with arousal I looked back to the mirror. I could see myself growing, but it wasn’t just my cock’s outline straining against the spandex, it looked and felt like my balls were growing too, my whole crotch swelling up against its spandex prison. The more they grew, the more intense the pleasure became, but it didn’t exactly feel like an erection.

I it felt almost like a balloon blowing up - a balloon in my crotch filling with anticipation and pleasure. Looking down, I noticed that as my genitals kept growing they began to lose definition, probably due to how stretched out the fabric was getting. As my bulge strained against my tights, my breathing quickened and my crotch continued to get smoother and rounder. My pelvic pleasure balloon steadily expanded until I felt my whole body was surely going to explode with ecstasy and then suddenly— it stopped. Still breathing heavily and still quite aroused I saw, between my newly muscled legs, the perfect smooth round ballet bulge, maybe a little on the big side, but otherwise the most beautiful tights-clad bulge - exactly like I was wearing a dance belt under my tights.

But I wasn’t wearing a dance belt. Was I? Trepidatiously I reached down to stroke the fabric and was greeted by the most pleasurable sensation. It didn’t feel at all like I was touching a padded dance belt, it felt like I was touching my own skin. I continued to run my hand over my bulge, a little moan escaping my lips as I stroked it’s contours. It felt like touching the sensitive head of my cock, my whole crotch felt as sensitive as the most nerve-laden part of my dick.

Equally aroused and terrified I slipped off the tunic and the straps of my tights. As I began to undress I noticed the wiry patch of hair on my chest had disappeared, and as I slid the tights further down to my waist, saw for the first time my beautiful hairless toned core. I ran my hand along my abdomen, wanting to feel every new inch of my body and also afraid to slide my grey tights any further down. But I couldn’t put it off forever. I slid my tights off the toned globes of my ass, over the deep v of my hips and then, my breath hitching as the tights fabric slid away from my sensitive crotch, revealing my perfectly smooth and hairless crotch.

My crotch looked exactly the same as before the tights came off - a round bulge just like you would see on mannequin. I couldn’t help but touch myself again, the intense pleasure felt slightly different without the silky tights over my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes as I touched myself, it was a completely different sensation than stroking my cock. Instead of moving in fits and spurts of arousal towards the edge of orgasm, this felt like a continually building sensation, like that balloon expanding again - a pleasure that continued to grow and grow with no sign of impending release.

After thoroughly exploring this new sensation I decided to move to the bathroom to get a better look at myself. I pulled my tights back up to my waist, the feeling of their fabric moving over my crotch almost pulling me into another session of dickless masturbation, and padded to the bathroom.

I flicked the light on and, before I could pull my tights back down for inspection, was distracted by my own face. Maybe it was the glow of arousal but I could swear I looked invigorated, more lively. My eyes looked twinklier and my teeth looked brighter, whiter even. As I looked at my reflection, I noticed the stress induced strands of silver in my hair and the dark circles under my eyes start to fade. Before my very eyes my short cropped hair grew out into a perfectly coiffed hairstyle and my jawline softened slightly - the stubble on my chin fading away. I couldn’t help but smile at myself, a smile that would be perfect for stage lights. Stepping back from the mirror and looking at myself, inexplicably standing in first position again, I realised I had been given the perfect body for ballet, a body I could have only dreamed of.

Finally seeing my whole self, I decided the mystery of how it all came to be mine could wait until tomorrow. Tonight I would just enjoy it. I flicked off the bathroom light and retired to my bedroom. The mostly full beer bottle and the work clothes from my earlier self lay abandoned by the couch as I lay in bed, touching and discovering the pleasures of this new body until I fell asleep.