#a) because i still think it's too early and b) like i said not nearly as romantic to me

[leslieseveride]

i mostly don't want a chenford proposal by the end of s6 cause i really don't want tim to be prompted to do so just from that fight scene (as breathtaking as it was) i want him to get the notion from lucy's personality or one of her little quirks, like stopping traffic so a duck and her ducklings can safely cross a busy road. or from watching her doing some goofy cliptok trend with tamara, or after the first time he hears her sing, really sing, in the shower. like... as beautiful as that shot of tim on one knee was..... i'm sorry, it's not nearly romantic enough for me.

[bi-writes]

hi b! your mail order bride snippet was amazing!! I totally relate to taking the cat with her! tbh I think by the end of the first week the kitty will have Simon wrapped around their paw lol

mail-order bride

you sit up in bed as the bathroom door flies open, the knob banging against the wall as simon nearly stomps his way into the bedroom. you rub your sleepy eyes, watching as he holds the cat by the scruff of its neck until he can toss it onto the floor at the foot of the bed. the cat hops up onto the bed, sitting at your feet, and simon snarls as he stares back at it (it isn't allowed on the bed).

"can't even take a fuckin' shit, starin' right at me," he snaps at you, and you blubber a little, not knowing what to say right away. "i told ya to keep that fuckin' thing away from me."

"she likes you," you say sleepily, sniffing as you shrug. "she just wants to be near you."

"i said no pets!"

you blink up at him, "i-i'm sorry, simon--" you go to push the covers off to get out of bed, but simon comes closer, pushing you back into bed.

"don't get out of bed, why are ya gettin' out of bed? it's too fuckin' cold."

"y-you seem upset," you sniffle, "i just--" you put your hand over his gently. "she just likes you, simon. can't you see that?"

it is early. when simon goes back into the bathroom, you lay back down and let the warmth of the covers lull you back to sleep.

when you wake in the morning, eyes fluttering, simon is laying beside you still. it's odd, because he gets up before the sun comes up, but when you turn over to face him, your eyes widen a little. simon is wide awake. he's on his stomach, his face smushed into the pillow like usual, but he's so angry. his face is contorted into a scowl, and the cat is curled up on the base of his neck, their little head resting on the back of his head as they sleep peacefully, little purrs escaping every so often.

simon locks eyes with you, and you bite your lip, uneasy.

"what the fuck am i supposed to do?!" he hisses. "it's been 'ere all fuckin' mornin'!"

you slap your hand over your mouth to stop the giggles, and simon growls a little.

"get it offa me!"

[barcaatthemoon]

your best girl || alexia putellas x reader ||

You comfort Alexia when she returns after the Olympics.

18+

Everybody had a job. You had nearly forgotten that with the craziness of the Olympics. Alexia worked hard to be the best captain for her country that she could. There was only so much that her on-pitch presence could do. Their issue was at the coach's level, and the team suffered because of that. Alexia had only come back to you a couple days early after being knocked away from the medals, and that was where your job started.

It was always difficult gauging the amount of space to give Alexia. You understood how devastating a blow it was, having lost the chance for a medal at your first Olympics. Back then, you had wished that someone would have helped you pick up the pieces of yourself, but instead, you tried to brave it all on your own. Alexia wasn't like you, and that was where you apprehension about talking to her came in.

The thought of smothering Alexia and pushing her away haunted you constantly. You needed to do something to show her that you were there for her that wasn't over the top of dramatic. And so, you dropped as many little hints that you were just waiting for her to come to you. You thought for a moment that you'd end up driving yourself mad waiting for Alexia, but the silence and tension in the apartment only lasted for a few days at most.

"What is all of this?" Alexia asked as she stood behind your desk chair. You tried to turn, but Alexia was holding you forward. You could feel her lean down a bit, reading over your analysis of the games for work. "You've been busy."

"Never too busy for you though," you told her. Alexia dropped her hands from your chair, finally allowing for you to turn and face her. "I'm glad to see you up and around a bit."

"The bed felt a little cold, and I know that it's not really a big thing, but I was hoping that you had some time to join me," Alexia said. You nodded, quickly saving the small additions you had made to your analysis paper before shutting your computer down and following Alexia into the bedroom.

It looked like she had been cleaning a bit before she came to get you. The nest of blankets that Alexia had created to curl up and wallow in was now dismantled. She had tidied up her laundry from the floor and made the bed, which you knew were big steps. Aside from that, you didn't let the candles on the bedside table or the songs from your R&B sex playlist playing.

"How exactly am I helping you warm up the bed?" you asked teasingly. Alexia played it innocent as she sat back on the bed. She patted the spot next to you, and you all but rushed over to join her. Sex hadn't been on the table for you mentally when Alexia got home, but you were a bit relieved to not be waiting weeks like the last big loss Alexia had faced.

You didn't understand how someone so amazing could get down on themselves so easily. Alexia was under immense pressure from fans, but it was nothing compared to what she put herself through. You felt guilty learning from those around Alexia that it only got worse when you came in the picture. In your eyes, you were washed up and spat out by the game, but Alexia held you in the regard that some had during your prime.

"I did have a couple of things in mind. I think that I need a little reminder of who I am." Alexia ducked her head down until her face was tucked into the crook of your neck. She was being shy, like she was ashamed of really asking for what you wanted. Still, you completely understood wht she needed. It wasn't exactly what had become your normal, but you were still definitely up to reminding Alexia that she didn't have to win everything in order for you to love and cherish her.

"I get that you need this for what happened in Paris, but forget about football and the Olympics completely. Right now it's just the two of us. I am just me, and you are just you." Alexia struggled to take your words to heart at first, but that was expected. You were used to this little speedbump, but it was the most important part of everything in your eyes. "You love me despite the fact that I haven't worn a jersey of my own in three years. I'll love you even if you never put another Spain or Barcelona jersey on again. I'll love you when the day comes that your body can't handle the game anymore, and I will take care of you when you inevitably push yourself too far again. Do you know why?"

"No," Alexia answered. You turned her face so that she was looking at you and you only.

"Because I did not fall in love with Alexia Putellas, the footballer. I fell in love with the woman who doesn't know how to tread lightly, so she wakes me up at odd hours every single time that she gets out of bed. I fell in love with the woman who goes out of her way to take care of her community and everybody that she cares about. I fell in love with the woman who runs into the arm of the couch every single morning because she's too busy watching me walking into the kitchen. I fell in love with you because of what I saw off of the pitch," you told her. Alexia was blushing deeply, unsure of what to do with praise in that sense.

"I just wanted to win and make you proud. You got this new job after working so hard these past couple of years to learn Spanish. You're doing so much, and what have I done to compare?" Alexia confessed. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Alexia was constantly doing things that often made you feel a bit inferior, so it blew your mind a little to hear that Alexia had been feeling this way too.

"Ale, you are the best soccer player in the world. I'm only here because I gave up and called it quits. You're doing amazing things all of the time. You're the best in the world, and let's face it, I wouldn't have gotten my foot in the door if I wasn't your girlfriend. I could have worked and worked and worked forever, but they wouldn't have cared." Alexia's face changed from its formerly soft expression to a hardened one. "I'm not here to argue about my achievements with you, I'm here to remind you that this one setback won't define your worth."

"Just you wait, they'll be referring to me as (Y/n) (Y/l/n)'s girlfriend. Hopefully one of the better ones," Alexia said. She sounded so confident and sure of herself that you had to believe her.

"You'll always be the best one. Hopefully you'll also be my last one," you told her. Alexia leaned in and kissed you, slowly pulling you on top of her. You let the kiss progress naturally, neither of you pushing things too far without the other pressing equally as much.

"Take this off," Alexia requested as she started tugging at the hem of your shirt. You sat back and started removing the pieces of your clothes that Alexia asked you to. In turn, she briefly moved you off of her lap to completely undress herself. The tension in the room thickened a bit as she laid down again, legs spread as you stood at the end of the bed.

"You look unreal," you muttered as you moved onto the bed. You didn't want to leave Alexia waiting. Alexia didn't want to wait either, guiding your head between her legs without any ounce of hesitation. You could see that Alexia was already wet. She wasn't soaked but still undeniably wet.

You didn't have a chance to tease Alexia. She guided your face to her cunt, movements on the cusp of being pushy. Alexia was almost always in control, and she doubled down whenever you were topping. She didn't want to wait around or be teased, Alexia wanted to cum. You still had your chance to revel in the taste of her, even if it wasn't in the same way that she got to with you.

It didn't come as a surprise to you to have Alexia grinding her hips to move against your tongue. She didn't seem to want your fingers at all, working herself up on just your mouth. You loved it, loved knowing that you could make Alexia feel so good with just a few simple movements. Topping Alexia gave you a rush that you'd be riding for the next couple of days, until Alexia felt up to the task of "putting you back in your place."

"I'm so fucking close. Don't stop, please don't stop," Alexia swore. She wasn't usually one for pleading, but you'd take it. Her hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you savored every drop of her that you could. Alexia let you continue with the strokes of your tongue past her first orgasm, only pushing you away after the second. She rode one high into the next before her brain and body seemed to catch up to each other.

She was sensitive, and her legs jerked shut, nearly hitting you in the process. You didn't sit back and stare, instead going straight into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. Alexia let you clean her up, not saying anything to you until after she had grabbed new clothes to wear for the night. You stripped the bed and put everything in the washer, slightly surprised to find Alexia waiting for you in the kitchen when you were done.

"I don't think I let you know how important you are to me. I don't know how badly I would have spiraled without you here," Alexia told you. You blushed as she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you from behind. "Tomorrow, I start training again. I've only got a few years until the next World Cup and Olympics."

"I mean, I guess," you sighed. Alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek before she grabbed a snack to take into the living room. You went decided to go to bed, already well aware that Alexia wouldn't get to bed for another hour or so at least. You set an alarm for 1, deciding that if she wasn't in bed by then, you were going out to the living room to collect her yourself.

[anniebeemine]

Would it be okay to ask for a BAU!reader who was in like an early relationship with Spencer where she got the opportunity to have a breast reduction (like she had D cups) and wanted to go to like an A or B cup since she has to run quite a bit and it just HURT and explained to spencer shyly that she's getting the op for her health bur is nervous about him breaking up with her because of it, but he just wants her to be happy and healthy and wants to take care of her while recovering?

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection. The weight of the decision you’d made sat heavy on your shoulders, but not nearly as heavy as the physical pain you'd been carrying for years. As a BAU agent, you had to be in top shape, and running after suspects with D cups had become unbearable. The aches, the discomfort during physical activities, and the constant strain on your back—it was too much. You needed this surgery for your health.

But that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

The door creaked behind you, and Spencer walked in, his presence immediately calming, though you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety. You hadn’t told him yet. The two of you were still in the early stages of your relationship, and while everything felt like it was falling into place, there was still the lingering fear of how he’d react.

Would this change things?

"Hey," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?"

You swallowed, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Yeah, actually… there is.” Turning around in his arms, you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. You’d gone over this conversation in your head a hundred times, but now that it was happening, the words felt heavier.

Spencer’s brows furrowed with concern as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know,” you said, your voice soft. “I just... I’ve been thinking about something for a while now. About my chest.”

That caught his attention, and he stood up straighter, his hand resting gently on your arm. “What is it? Are you okay?”

You nodded, quickly reassuring him. “Yes, I’m okay. It’s just... I’ve decided to get a breast reduction.”

Spencer’s expression shifted from concern to understanding as you explained further. “I’ve had back pain for years, Spencer, and it’s only gotten worse with all the physical work we do. Running, chasing suspects, training—it hurts. A lot. And it’s not just that... it’s everything. I’ve been thinking about this surgery for a long time, and I finally got the opportunity to do it.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching yours. You felt a lump form in your throat as you added, “But I’m nervous. Not just about the surgery, but... about you. I don’t know how you’ll feel about me after. I mean, I’m going down to an A or B cup, and I just... I’m worried it’ll change things between us.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, and before you could continue rambling, he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “Nothing’s going to change between us. If this is what you need to feel better, to be healthy and comfortable, then that’s what matters. I love you for you, not because of... that.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

Spencer’s hand moved to rest on your waist, and he pulled you closer. “I know this is a big decision, and it’s understandable to be nervous. But I’m here, okay? I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’ll take care of you while you’re recovering. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

His words were so sincere, so full of love and understanding, that you felt your heart swell. You had worried for so long about what he would think, but here he was, reassuring you that all he wanted was for you to be happy and healthy.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him.

“I just want you to feel good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ve been in pain for too long, and if this surgery is what you need to fix that, then I’m all for it.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the weight of your worries lift. He’d take care of you—physically and emotionally—through this. You had never been so sure of how much he cared for you, and in that moment, you knew that your relationship was only going to grow stronger, no matter what changes lay ahead.

[ggomos-maribat]

Secrets, Masks, and Family Gatherings

Cross posted from AO3

It had been nearly a year since she moved to Gotham City, but the skyline seemed new each time she went out for night patrol. Ladybug zipped to another building with Red Hood to gain a higher vantage point. Her wings fluttered slightly with the breeze behind her.

"All clear here." Red Hood pressed on his comms.

"Okay. We'll wait for an update from Robin and Spoiler then we're finished for tonight if there aren't any problems," Batman replied.

"Yeah, it's a miracle we get to finish up early." The vigilante rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms. "So LB . . ."

"This small talk again?" Ladybug groaned.

Red Hood put his arms up. "Hey, I'm just curious."

"What is it now?"

"I was just wondering what made you transfer to Gotham." He perched on the ledge right beside her. "You defeated your city's villain, right? You had nothing to do anymore."

He's not wrong. She often thought about it herself. Her past and responsibilities clung to her like unshakeable nightmares. Ladybug knew the moment she gained guardianship that her life had no chance of reverting back to 'normal'.

"I think you know how it feels," she said.

"How what feels?"

Ladybug sighed, slumping. "When we defeated Hawkmoth, I thought we could finally rest easy. But I couldn't. I was restless, and between that and taking care of the aftermath, I realized I was missing the superhero life." She shrugged. "That's why I'm here now---it's inescapable. As the guardian, I decided it was better for the Miraculi to be used for good instead of sitting unused."

"Ah, classic PTSD like all the Bats." Red Hood nodded.

She snorted. "But that doesn't mean I still live a restless life. In fact, I've gotten used to life in Gotham."

"But why Gotham of all places?"

"The Miracle Box told me something. I can't divulge anything more."

"Just like you don't divulge anything about your civvy life."

She rolled her eyes, elbowing him on the side, which caused him to flinch dramatically. Bats and their nosiness. "Hey, we're not that close yet for me to reveal my identity. And it's a fair game. I don't know any of you either."

"I'm surprised B hasn't dug up anything on you. And he has contingency plans for all the JL members."

"I told you, the glamor protects us."

At first, she'd been hesitant to work with the vigilantes and at the same time, Batman had been wary around her especially when she was entering their territory. But she had gotten to know them well over time, despite not knowing who were behind the masks. She could also tell they'd grown to trust her like one of theirs.

"All clear near Crime Alley," Spoiler reported over the line.

"Good. Thank you for your help tonight, Ladybug. Everyone else, back to the cave."

Ladybug stood up abruptly. "Thank you too. I'll join the Signal during the weekend. He mentioned he might need some help."

"Oooh, you seem in a hurry to get back home." Red Hood tilted his head.

"No, I'm not spilling anything about my plans for the night," she huffed. "And I need to go because I'm hungry and my timer's running because you forced me to use my Lucky Charm to win that bet with Red Robin."

"The look on his face was priceless."

Ladybug threw her yoyo. "Good night, Hood."

After double checking that none of the others had followed or tracked her, Ladybug detransformed and walked back to her apartment building. She could practically hear the coffee calling to her; she'd drown in it endlessly whenever patrol nights ran late and she needed commissions to finish afterwards.

In the empty elevator, Tikki hovered up to her shoulder. "It's a good thing patrol ended early, Marinette."

"It's not a good sign, Tikki." She smiled grimly. "I think something big's going to happen. A massive breakout or a big plan by the Rogues."

The kwami hummed. "You can try to get plenty of rest before that happens."

"No promises. I have twelve designs I have to submit to Audrey by next week."

Just as she headed to her apartment door, her phone rang a familiar customized ringtone. Tikki also gasped in excitement upon seeing the caller's name.

Marinette tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder while jamming her keys through the doorknob. "Hey, Adrien. What's up?"

"Hey Nette. Done with patrol?"

"We finished early tonight. The Rogues are suspiciously silent. How are you? How's Plagg?" Marinette stepped into the room and Tikki turned on the lights.

"Currently pigging out on cheese. As always." She could almost see her best friend's eye-roll. "Anyway, I called to tell you that I'll be visiting Gotham on Friday. Wayne Tech is partnering up with our brand and Chloe and Kagami are coming with me."

"That's great news, Adrien! I'll bake something special---or should I take you out to a restaurant? I know some good ones near my place."

Adrien chuckled. "Pick anything you want. I'll tell Chloe to send you our schedule so we can reserve lunch or dinner with you and----no, Plagg! I'm not telling her to buy extra cheese!" He heaved out a breath. "At night we can have a short . . . run. You can introduce me to your new partners."

"They're not my partners. It's just you, kitty cat," Marinette said pointedly. "We're just allies."

"You gush about winning prank wars against them."

"It's fun being around them but that's it!"

He laughed. "It's okay. I'm glad you're enjoying your time over there. Send my regards to Damian."

A knock suddenly sounded on the door.

"Speaking of Damian, I think he's here. Gotta go, and say hi to Plagg and the others for me!"

"Pfft, you keep stroking his ego."

With one last goodbye, Marinette threw her phone on the couch and ran to the door. She hadn't expected her boyfriend to drop by, but she was glad he could make time for her. She knew Damian was as busy as her and she was worried he'd end up not taking care of himself like she always did.

"Dames, I thought you had work at the company for the whole night." She gave him a tight hug and a light kiss as soon as she opened the door.

Damian pecked her cheek, winding his arms around her waist. "They let us go early and I thought I should surprise you."

"Good, because I'm surprised," she beamed. "Are you staying the night?"

"Of course, habibti."

Damian Wayne had been an unexpected addition to her Gotham life. They had met in the park while they were working on their sketches---him, a portrait drawing and her, an inspired dress design. Before she knew it, she was with someone who she believed she could spend the rest of her life with. Damian was her support, her confidant in all aspects except her secret identity (though the thought of finally telling him had crossed her mind too many times).

"Are you hungry? I haven't had dinner yet and I was just thinking of cooking instant ramen . . ."

"We can have dinner together, but . . . there is something I need to talk to you about." Damian rubbed her arms, gazing at her intently.

Marinette's heart quickened as she subconsciously thought about all types of bad news. Did he get hurt? Did I do something? Is he going to break up with me?

"Habibti, love, I can already read your thoughts." He kissed the tip of her nose. "It's not anything terrible."

"What is it?"

Damian took a deep breath. "I think it's time for you to meet my family."

Marinette felt her jaw drop. "Your . . . your family? Are you sure about this?"

For the longest time, Damian had expressed his distaste at the thought of her meeting the Waynes. At first, she'd thought that it was the status difference, but he seemed more worried about his father and brothers doing something crazy.

On the other hand, they had both flown to Paris four months ago for Damian to officially meet her parents and friends. It had gone smoothly, and Damian was convinced that the opposite would happen if she met his family.

"Yes. I've thought about it." He sat down with her as she ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "They're already asking about you and if I stall for any longer, I know they will start prying into your life."

"Oh . . ."

Damian had talked about his brothers before, and Marinette saw them sometimes in news and tabloids. In her impression, they didn't seem too bad.

"But don't worry," he assured her, "I will be with you the whole time. We'll have lunch at the manor tomorrow---"

"Wait, tomorrow?"

"Is it too sudden? I worked with your free schedule and---"

"No, no, I'm definitely free tomorrow." Her eyes widened. "Let's meet them tomorrow. It just caught me off guard. I have to prepare my outfit and buy a gift and----oh no, what would your brothers like? What about your father and Alfred?"

Damian smiled gently. "You don't have to concern yourself with that. You’ll make a wonderful first impression."

"But---"

"I have to warn you about my brothers instead." His lip curled. "They will be a handful."

She laughed a little. "You already warned me a million times."

"Because I can't overstate how troublesome they'll be."

Instead of her reply, Marinette's growling stomach echoed in the room. She blushed as Damian pulled her from her seat, kissing her cheek. "It seems that we have an emergency to take care of first. I'll help you cook."

---

Marinette smoothed down the remnant wrinkles on her skirt. She'd chosen a simple pleated dress to wear to her first family lunch with the Waynes. At the same time, the car pulled up in front of the Wayne Manor. It was just as intimidating as she remembered---she'd only ever been to the manor once, to wait for Damian.

"Nervous?" Damian touched her hand.

"Should I be?"

"Never," he replied firmly. "If anything, I should apologize ahead of time. Also, there is no reason to be nervous. If they aren't busy acting insufferable, they'll be impressed by you."

Though the words were warm, they did little to calm her heart. These were the Waynes, royalty of Gotham. She even found it hard to believe that she was with Damian in the first place.

"Come on." Damian helped her out of the car and guided her to the front steps. He pushed through the large wooden doors and they were both met with a broad-shouldered man rushing down the main hallway.

"Todd," Damian called out. "Where on earth are you going?"

The man---Jason, she assumed---stopped, glanced at them, and gave her a quick once-over. Marinette noticed the motorcycle helmet he held on one hand.

"Demon brat." Jason tilted his head. "I have work to do."

"But lunch---"

"I promised to drop by. I didn't say I'll stay." He gave Marinette a single nod and went off.

"I bet he had another fight with Father," Damian muttered under his breath. Marinette squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't apologize. Let's go," she told him softly.

Damian led her to the dining hall where the others were already sat around the table. Curious stares burned through Marinette, making her duck her head away. Damian himself was unfazed, wearing a half-scowl as he helped her to her seat.

"Master Damian, Miss Marinette, welcome." Just in time, Alfred strolled in with the food. She gave the butler a meek smile.

Then, she took a look at the Waynes one by one. The poised Bruce Wayne was at the head of the table, his presence the most prominent  in the room. Across from her was Dick Grayson, who looked like he was studying her. Positioned beside him were Tim and Stephanie, both whispering to each other. Finally, Barbara was at her other side, offering her a small smile of comfort.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, Marinette," Bruce greeted. "Damian talks a lot about you."

Marinette momentarily eyed the array of silverware near her plate which she did not know how to use. "The pleasure is all mine . . . sir."

"Please call me Bruce." He gestured to the food at the center. "Go ahead and help yourself. Alfred cooked a feast for us."

She cleared her throat. "Thank you, Bruce."

"How did you both meet?" Tim questioned.

"In the park, Drake. We were both drawing. I already told you," Damian butted in.

Tim waved him off. "I want to hear it from her, not you."

"I---"

"It's okay, Damian." Marinette nudged him a little. "I was sketching in the park when Titus came to me. Damian was drawing a picture of me while I was absorbed in my designs and accidentally let go of his leash. Titus led me to him and it all started there."

"You design?" Barbara asked.

Warmth crept to her cheeks. "It's my dream to become a fashion designer. I just do a few commission pieces here and there. I'm trying to take small steps to reach my goal."

A quick glimpse at her boyfriend told her that he was radiating all the pride in the world.

"Little D mentioned you came from Paris?" Dick sipped on his drink. "Why did you decide to leave?"

"Oh, please don't get it all wrong. I know Paris earned a bad rep after the Hawkmoth fiasco but that was years ago. I just decided to move here to find more opportunities for myself," Marinette answered smoothly.

"Why Gotham of all places, if I may ask?" Bruce chimed in. "Admittedly, this isn't the friendliest city in the country."

"Father, stop with the interrogation," said Damian.

"It's okay, Dames, I don't mind. Promise." She squeezed his hand under the table.

"Fine. But do not answer anything if you're not comfortable."

Marinette looked at Bruce. "One of my friend's parents who works in fashion suggested Gotham. There's a low competition among the designers here so it might be easier for me to make a name for myself."

"That's not a bad move actually," Tim remarked.

"So back in Paris, did you get to meet any of the heroes?" Dick leaned in.

"Grayson," Damian warned.

"That's---"

A sharp ring blasted out, cutting off her statement. Bruce fished out his phone, a muscle on his face twitched, and he abruptly stood up. "There's an emergency at WE."

"Emergency?" Tim peered at his phone as well.

"Yes, Tim. You're needed. Also Stephanie." The eldest Wayne looked around the table and uttered monotonously. "I apologize for cutting this short. We have an urgent matter at the company---"

"Father."

Bruce shook his head. "This absolutely cannot wait, Damian."

The three filed out of the room in a flash. Marinette, stunned at the sudden interruption, saw Dick also checking the emergency.

"Sorry, Babs and I need to go." He stood up and picked up his coat, going around the table to help Barbara. "It's nice to meet you, Marinette."

"Let's go out for drinks sometime, okay?" Barbara reached over and patted her shoulder before they left.

The disappearance of the Waynes left her fidgeting with her fingers and wondering what the big emergency could be. She peeked at Damian hesitantly. "Do you need to go too?"

His jaw clenched. "I think so."

"You can go." She cupped his cheek, pecking the other.

"I can't tell you---"

"I know. I won't ask, I promise," she assured softly. He didn't have to explain anything to her; she'd gladly wait for him to open up. "Go."

"I'm sorry."

"Damian."

He pressed a firm kiss on her forehead. "Alfred will drive you to your apartment. I'll come to you later, alright?"

"Okay."

She could hear Alfred offering her food to take home and guiding her to the car, but it was all a blur. Marinette knew she had nothing to do with what happened yet she was afraid that it would sour Damian's relationship with his family. Her fists clenched around her skirt as she looked down, feeling Alfred's keen eyes checking on her through the rearview mirror.

"Please do not take it personally, Miss," Alfred said softly.

"Yes. Thank you," she whispered.

Finding nothing better to do than to check her phone, Marinette noticed the numerous alerts plastered all over her screen. Arkham breakout. Fuck. No wonder it was so quiet last night. There were a number of messages from Red Hood (which was directed from her burner phone), asking her if she could help.

Marinette looked out the window. Sure enough, there seemed to be a racket coming from the other streets.

"Umm, excuse me Alfred?" She searched for a safe alley to transform. "Can---can you drop me off at the cafe over there?"

"Are you certain? There are Rogues running around the city at this time."

"I'll stay inside. Don't worry."

Fortunately, the butler did what she asked and she made a beeline to the cafe as soon as she stepped foot out the car. Transform. Connect comms. Head to the upper east side. The same words ran through her head.

Her phone rang suddenly right before she could say her transformation words.

"Adrien! Can't talk right now. Arkham breakout. Big emergency," she said hurriedly into the phone.

"Oops. Need backup?" He asked.

"Maybe not. I don't know." She massaged her temple. "Can I ask you guys to standby? You can take your power-ups just in case."

"That's fine. Stay safe," Adrien said, "How did lunch go by the way?"

"Gah! Not now, kitty!"

"Right, right, right. Emergency in Gotham. I'll hang up now."

Marinette sighed. "It was a disaster, by the way. I'll text the details later."

"Aaaand Chloe's yelling at me to spill right now. You should go."

---

Ladybug swiftly landed beside Nightwing when she arrived and the Bats had just finished capturing Penguin and his men. On the next rooftop over, she could see Robin with Batman---they were loud enough for her to deduce that they were having an argument but she couldn't make out the exact words.

"What's up with them?" Ladybug frowned. She had always known Robin as the cold, closed-off one in the group but it was her first time encountering a complete outburst.

"Personal stuff. Happened earlier," Nightwing replied briefly. "I'm surprised you came. I thought you had an appointment today."

She bit her tongue. "Uhh, it got cancelled."

Batman told Robin something which had him storming off, grappling away to another direction. Their comms buzzed to life.

"Ladybug, team up with Robin. The Riddler's in the next avenue," Batman ordered curtly.

Ladybug turned to Nightwing with wide eyes. The stress was obvious in the sag of his shoulders and tight grip on his escrima sticks.

"He's mad at all of us," he explained. "It's better if it's you who joins him."

Ladybug only nodded, throwing her yoyo to follow Robin. Her curiosity was growing by the minute, but she focused on thinking of ways to calm down her fellow vigilante. If he became too riled up, he could lose focus and get injured.

She followed him close enough for him to hear her. "Robin, you have to slow down."

"No, I have to get back as soon as possible."

"Get back to where?"

She only received silence.

Frustrated Robin equals not a good Robin. Ladybug leapt to match his pace and blocked his way. He glared at her. "Move."

"Look, this is the Riddler we're facing. He's still dangerous and if we're not careful, we'll get caught in his traps."

"I don't care. I just need to get this over with. Stay out of my way."

When he pushed past her, she had half the mind to wrap him in her yoyo and deliver him back to Batman for a time-out. She huffed as she followed him. You're not the only one having a bad day, grumpy boy. Robin anchored his grappling gun to a faraway building and at the second he jumped off, he careened to the side, swept away by an elaborate trap by the Riddler.

Before she knew it, Ladybug was after him. Her teeth gritted and her legs ran a mile as she groaned out loud. "This is exactly what I was just talking about!"

They were trapped in an empty little box with a puzzle lock on its door.

Ladybug released a shaky breath.

The worst argument I've had with one of the Gotham vigilantes was when I interfered with Red Hood's mission and he got overprotective. She stared at Robin, who was relentlessly kicking the metal walls. But that might change today.

"Robin," she called out. "I understand that you're mad at the others but it doesn't mean you can act reckless while you're in that suit."

"No. You don't understand." He raked a hand through his hair. "I told them. I already told them and they still . . .Do you know what they did?"

She opened her mouth to reason with him again but he beat her to it. "I only wanted at least an hour. No interruptions." Robin clicked his tongue. "For them, there is nothing more important than capturing these criminals even if there are other heroes who will help. And Father had to be the first to run out."

Ladybug gaped. She knew the Bats were somewhat of a family but it was Robin's first time referring to Batman as a father. "Are you sure you should be telling me---"

"Yes, so you know how unfair they acted earlier." He twirled his katanas, looking for a simple way out. "I only wanted them to meet my girlfriend. I brought her home. And they all left for this. Father didn't give a sincere apology and my brothers either don't care or are suspicious of her."

Wait . . .

She thought she'd stumble back, but her feet were surprisingly still planted on the ground. Lunch. Earlier. Girlfriend. Shit. Her breath was knocked out of her lungs as she processed Robin's words.

Damian's words.

She wanted to laugh. All this time, she'd been anxious about telling him the truth when he was already living the same life as her. The Waynes, the sudden emergencies, staying out late. Merde, it all makes sense now. It was ridiculous how she didn't recognize her own boyfriend.

"It was a mistake after all. I shouldn't have invited her to come," Robin sighed. "They're wary because she's a civilian---she'll be my weakness if anyone finds out about our connection. They know that, which is why they don't approve."

Her first instinct was to tell him that it wasn't true, but an identity reveal would be too much given their current situation. Ladybug pieced her words with care. "I'm sure they'll listen if you tell them how you feel. Your girlfriend will understand too."

"We don't communicate healthily, in case you haven't figured that out."

Her heart was still drumming against her ribcage. Damn it. Marinette would work better in consoling him. Ladybug's just a colleague. "I know. But a few words can go a long way. Tell them you'll be careful. Ask them to help protect your girlfriend if anything ever goes wrong."

As Robin lowered his gaze, an urge to come up to him and hold his hands washed over her. She counted the seconds of silence that passed. It looked like he was thinking deeply about it.

"I apologize for getting you involved," he said. "And for mindlessly telling you about my personal life."

She laughed nervously. "Ah . . . it's okay to vent out sometimes."

Yeah, and your story definitely did not reveal your whole identity.

Robin turned towards the puzzle lock. "Should we attempt to crack the code in his puzzle?"

It wasn't a simple coded lock---it was a six-wheeled puzzle that was embedded onto the door. "By the looks of it, it will take us hours if we go through that route. I think I have a better idea. Are there any cameras here?"

He surveyed the small enclosure. "I see two by the corners."

"Good. Break them and cover the lens." Ladybug touched her earrings while he did what she said. I have spare cookies in my purse. That should do. "We can't unlock the door by ourselves, but Tikki can phase through and let us out."

"The tiny god-being in your Miraculous."

"Yeah, that's Tikki." She smiled. I'll have to introduce them sometime. "Close your eyes?"

After making sure that the cameras weren't functioning and he couldn't see her, she detransformed, motioned to the puzzle lock and sent Tikki out.

"Before we were trapped, I saw other civilians captured in similar boxes," said Robin. "Riddler should be camped east."

Marinette crossed the gap between them and tapped on the back of his hand. GOOD. RIDDLER FIRST THEN FREE OTHERS.

"Morse?" Robin scrunched his nose. "Are you also cautious about revealing your voice?"

YES.

"Tt. That is too much. Most of us don't even use a modulator." He shifted. "I doubt that I will be able to recognize your voice."

She pursed her lips. We'll see about that.

---

Ladybug was lounging on the top of Wayne Tower as the vigilantes finished up catching the remaining inmates. She used the time to fully wrap her head around her discovery. Damian. Robin. One by one, she also pieced together the identities of the others. It was so stupidly obvious all this time.

She heard a familiar zip of the grappling gun. It wasn't Red Hood who she expected to check on her but it was Robin.

"The Rogues are secured. There are rumors that the Joker orchestrated the entire thing but he wasn't around during the attacks," Robin reported. "The injured civilians are being rushed to the hospitals. No deaths."

Ladybug didn't break her gaze at the horizon. "That's good."

". . . Ladybug?"

"Yeah?"

He sat next to her. "The people in Paris . . . did they get used to these kinds of incidents as well? When Hawkmoth was active?"

"With an akuma attack nearly every week, yes you can say we had no choice but to get used to it."

"Was there a lot of animosity towards Parisians after the truth got out?"

"Only a little." She looked down at her hands. "Mostly we receive pity. The press made it clear how the akumas affected everyone's lives."

"My girlfriend . . . came from Paris too. I always wonder what it was like but I never wanted to pry."

Damian . . . She bit her lip. She had been dodgy about the topic, but she should know better than to withhold her feelings about it. Damn it, this will be so awkward when he finally finds out.

"You're worried about her safety," she said.

Robin nodded. "I wonder if she feels afraid during Rogue attacks. Or just living in Gotham. I never want to find out that she was in a dangerous situation and I wasn't there to . . ."

"You don't have to worry. If she's from Paris, then she's strong. Everyone in my city had been on the edge of death one way or another. Our instincts were sharpened. We can block out our fears and emotions." Ladybug looked up at him. "I'm sure she can handle danger."

"But it's different here. There's no magic to bring things back to normal. It's permanent." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I won't know what to do if something happens to her because of me."

"I think . . . you should ask her first---"

"I should break it off with her."

"What?!"

Ladybug nearly slapped a hand over her mouth. I said that too quickly. Thankfully, Robin didn't seem to notice anything.

"I've been thinking a lot," he continued. "I can't bring myself to tell her about this. About me. The mere fact of her knowing puts a target on her back."

Dear kwamis, please keep me from pushing my boyfriend off this rooftop before gets the chance to find out about me.

"Wait." She began slowly. "Don't you think she deserves to know before you try to make that decision for her?"

"What am I supposed to do?" His eyebrows furrowed. "I . . . I expect her to react badly. I've learned from today that I should keep her from getting involved any further. It's either I drag her into this dangerous life or I keep hurting her with my lies."

"You shouldn't start assuming things without trying first. I'm sure she trusts you and she'll come to understand everything in time. There's always a compromise." Her lips spoke the words before she could think. "You're not doing any good by cutting yourself off all of a sudden."

"If I end it now, she can eventually move on and stay safe. Nevermind how I feel," he argued, "I can let her go and she'll be safe."

"When I told you about how Parisians are strong, that's not what I meant." Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she raised her voice. "She can stay in a relationship with you and keep herself safe because she's strong. Can't you trust her as much as she trusts you?"

"I can't risk it. She's important to me."

"If she is, then talk to her. If you don't give her a chance to decide, you're not any better than your father or brothers."

"How would you even know how she feels?"

Ladybug's face contorted into a sharp glare. "I just know. I know better than anyone, Damian."

Anger morphed into shock as he stared at her. ". . . What did you just call me?"

She made a quick sweep of the area to make sure that they were in a blind spot. Then, she wasted no time standing up on the ledge, shuffling until the balls of her foot touched the edge. Then,  "I'm not defenseless, merde. And I really wanted to wait until the end of the day but . . . Tikki, détransformation."

Marinette watched Robin's face go through a storm of emotions. His jaw hung slack and his fists uncurled while he stood up to look at her.

". . . Marinette?" he breathed out.

She gently touched his cheeks with both hands, peeling off his mask to reveal his glistening eyes. "I can't believe you wanted to break up with me."

"Marinette . . ." He pulled them both away from the ledge and held her, mumbling 'I'm sorry' over and over again. His head was buried on her neck, with his hands pressed against her back.

"You. It's you," said Damian. "Of course it's you."

"It's me." She rubbed down his back. "For record, I only found out because---"

"Because I told you what happened."

She chuckled. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, habibti." He pulled away a little to touch her cheek. "I was going to make a stupid decision."

"Are you upset that I kept this from you?"

He shook his head, kissing her head. "I can't and I don't have the right to be. I was keeping my secret from you as well."

"Come on, let's go home first. Then we can talk about . . . everything."

---

Ladybug swung into the night with a weight lifted off her chest. She and Damian had a long talk about their identities and relationship. They'd both agreed not to tell the other heroes until they were ready to. For her, it was better that they kept their secrets between themselves first and slowly ease into revealing the truth to her friends and his family.

She breathed in the breeze. Robin wasn't anywhere to be seen, but a group of vigilantes were. Nightwing. Hood. RR. What are they doing there?

The three immediately fell into a hush when she landed next to them.

"Hey, LB," Red Robin greeted.

She put her hands on her hips. "What are you doing?"

The brothers shared a look before Red Hood spoke. "Robin told you about his girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah . . ." she trailed off, dragging the syllable.

"We think something's up with her," said Nightwing.

"I'm sorry?"

"Sketchy stuff," Red Robin explained, shifting on his feet. "Well, we can't tell you who she is---secret identities and all---but she's from Paris. She's friends with Hawkmoth's kid."

Ladybug scoffed. "Adrien? He's not like Hawkmoth. I know him personally and he had nothing to do with that man's crimes. Trust me."

"Hmm, yeah but she's also close with the mayor's daughter. That one who also sided with Hawkmoth."

"You mean Chloe Bourgeois? She's proven that she's changed." And unbeknownst to the public, she was a hero again, this time under another alias.

"But she's so secretive. There's definitely something going on with her." Nightwing rubbed his chin. Ladybug wanted to bang her head in the nearest wall or groan to the heavens.

"What's wrong with being secretive? Aren't you guys the same?" she narrowed her eyes.

"That's not the main cause of our suspicion," said Red Hood.

"We weren't convinced about her reason for moving to Gotham, so we dug around," Red Robin continued, "She said something about more career opportunities but that's just a cover. We found classified files on superheroes in her apartment, including info on Justice League members. I bet she already knows about Robin's identity."

"You snooped in her apartment?!"

"It was an investigation," Nightwing snorted.

Her eye twitched. A secret had never felt so difficult to conceal. "I can't believe you'd break the privacy of a civilian just because you had baseless assumptions."

Red Robin winced. "Uhh . . . if you put it that way . . ."

She crossed her arms. "No, I know what this is really about. You're being overprotective of Robin; you can't accept that he now has a significant other and you think he's being naive about his choices. You think he's going to get hurt badly." She paused for effect. "Because you don't want him to repeat the same mistakes as you all did."

The look on their masked faces told her that she had hit the target better than any therapist they might have encountered.

Red Hood was first to deny. "We're not protective of the brat. We're trying to eliminate a potential danger."

"His harmless civilian girlfriend?"

"Think about it, LB. Why would she have sensitive files on the heroes?" Red Robin asked. "You can't deny that that's suspicious."

I don't know, maybe because she's a hero herself?!

Ladybug sighed heavily. Damian is really going to kill them when he finds out. "Does Batman know about this?"

"Nope, but we'll tell him when we gather enough evidence," Nightwing answered. "We're just trying to get Oracle to crack into her laptop. The security on it  is so heavy, it's insane."

Why is it a curse that I asked Max to protect my laptop? There are files on the Miraculi in there!

She discreetly took her yoyo and put it on the recording function. "Let me get this straight. So you're all investigating and prying into the life of Robin's girlfriend without the knowledge of Batman even at the cost of your identities and everyone's safety?"

"We're not risking anyone's safety---"

"It's more of research but---"

She pursed her lips. "And you broke into her apartment, went through her things and currently you're trying to hack into her personal computer?"

"Regular vigilante work---"

"Good, we're on the same page then." She smiled widely. Sinisterly. "Tikki, détransformation."

Pale. Pale faces were all she could see as the three vigilantes were engulfed in utter shock. Marinette held her smile, clasping her hands together behind her back. I can't wait to see how they try to make it up to me. Mon dieu! I'm going to mess with them. 

And as a cherry on top, Robin arrived at the scene, immediately putting her behind him when he saw that she was in civilian form. He directed an accusatory glare at his brothers. "What is going on here?!"

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Separation

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~10.7k

Summary: “I shouldn’t have married you” angst prompt 

A/N: Here’s the promised angst with no happy ending 😉

Warnings: Angst, stalking, injury, past stalking and harassment, mentions of drug use and overdose

She shouldn’t have said it. She knows she shouldn’t have even thought it, but she was stressed and desperate to figure this out. The fact that she’d uttered the words at all had horrified her, and she’d wanted to take them back as soon as they were out of her mouth. The fact that she said them to you made her feel like a monumental idiot, not to mention jackass. She’d had to watch you leave near tears because she hadn’t been able to come up with a reason why she’d say something so horrible to you. She was scared, and panicking made her lose sight of all reason. Even if she handled it poorly and failed to effectively communicate her feelings, she felt like she had a right to panic about this.

You’d been leaving work late last night and as the last person there it had been pitch black by the time you made it out to the parking lot. Tired from a long day at work, and thinking mostly about what to make for dinner, you hadn’t noticed the person dressed in all black waiting behind your car. Boone noticed him first as your tail lights illuminated him when you unlocked the car and he’d startled you with a bark that made you jump nearly a foot in the air.

You’d looked around for the cause of your dog’s outburst and you’d been greeted with the sight of someone pointing a gun at you. You were slow to react but Boone wasn’t as he charged forward fearlessly to attack the stranger. You're not sure how you ended only on the ground, but not shot when you’d tried to get your dog out of harm’s way.

You always gave Wanda shit about having Bucky follow you around, but you had to admit that it paid off. When he pulled into the parking lot just in time to save you from getting punched a third time, you decided that you would stop complaining.

You’d been rattled and confused by the time you got home. Bucky had driven you and despite your protests, he’d called your wife to tell her what happened. You weren’t sure if this was related to Wanda in any way. Your attacker hadn’t exactly been given a chance to announce his intentions before Boone had tried to maul him. You remember your near panic attack at hearing Wanda start yelling and demanding to know who this person was.

She still had people trying to figure it out, but her main concern right now was you. You were angry at her which was understandable, but she was anxious about the idea of you leaving the house right now. She knew that you likely went to Yelena or Nat because she’d driven you away, but she just hopes that you’ll be safe with them.

Nat and Yelena were coming back from dinner with Kate to their shared apartment. They spent most of their time at the compound, but they both agreed they wanted a separate place to go sometimes when they didn’t want to make the drive, or didn’t want to be around a bunch of people.

Tonight was one of those nights where it wasn’t too busy at work and they’d been able to get away by early afternoon to spend time away from the compound. Yelena had spent time with Kate, and Nat had done her own thing until dinner time. The three of them had been so isolated today, and they had no idea what had happened last night.

For this reason, the duo is surprised to find you sitting against their door waiting for them. Your eyes are closed as you sit cross-legged with your head back against the door. Your eyes are puffy and they notice that you look tense beyond what they would expect for just attempting to sleep in a terribly uncomfortable position.

“Y/n?”

You don’t open your eyes immediately because you’re still replaying the argument you and Wanda had in your head. You don’t know how it got so out of hand so quickly. When you’d gotten home last night you’d been shaken and very grateful for your dog and Bucky coming to your rescue. Wanda had predictably panicked and made sure at least 3 people were looking into your mystery stalker despite the late hour. You’d mostly spent your night in bed restless and going between trying to sleep and petting your dog who you’d made sleep in the bedroom with you.

“Y/n what’s wrong?”

You register Nat’s voice and your eyes open to see the sisters standing beside you with matching looks of concern. You figure they don’t know about this given that you had been with Wanda for practically 36 hours straight. She’d been on the phone with a lot of people, but clearly not these two by the confused looks they were shooting you.

“Can I…Do you mind if I hang out here for a while?”

Pietro watches with a frown as his sister continues to pace back and forth in front of him. He’d been relaxing with a drink after a long day when Wanda had called to tell him about what happened tonight. He was aware of your close run-in last night, and he’d jumped at the opportunity to help figure out who was responsible. However, he’d been mostly out of the loop about what was happening with you and Wanda at home.

Things were understandably tense. They usually were when something like this happened, and you never knew how to make it better. Apparently, an attempt to do so hadn’t been well received by his sister, and she’d said something truly idiotic.

“I still don’t get why you’d say that.”

Pietro knows he’s pointing out the obvious, but since arriving at the compound, Wanda has simply been pacing and muttering under her breath. The most he’d been told initially was that she made a mistake and she’d run you off for it. It had taken some probing to get her to admit what she’d said exactly, and understandably he’d been disappointed.

He watches as Wanda shakes her head and groans at her own stupidity. She really needed to figure out how to make this up to you. She didn’t mean what she said, and she needed you to know that.

“I know, Piet. I don’t have a good excuse. I just…I knew something like this would happen.”

Pietro’s frown deepens and he stands up when Wanda says this because he’s done watching his sister fret. He also knew how Wanda was just too paranoid for her own good, and she sometimes needed a reminder that things just happen. Things like this happen when Wanda does what she does, and its unavoidable. She knows this but her ability to deal with it continues to need improvement.

“Sestra, whether you two got married or not, you would have run into this problem. You both knew this.”

Wanda scowls at the thought, or rather that the fact that her brother was telling the truth. When he had to remind her of what was right, she always knew she was being irrational. That said, knowing this and actually being able to let it go and change her thinking…that was the part that she struggled with.

She’s nodding despite not really having any sort of solution to offer, but luckily her brother is way ahead of her.

“I know, I know.”

“Then why does this keep happening, Wanda? Y/n knows what she signed up for. Hell, she jumped headfirst into it. You know she won’t leave you.”

Pietro doesn’t expect the reaction that he gets from his sister. He’d been hoping that she would tell him that he was right and that she would stop fretting. This was an unlikely outcome, he knew, but he was trying to be optimistic.

Instead, Wanda stops mid-stride and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Pietro is getting a little nervous by the time the redhead sighs and moves to sit down next to him. She looks to the drink that he’d abandoned on the table in front of him, and she’s tempted to steal it.

“Not willingly, but what if one day Bucky arrives too late? What if she’s taken from me?”

Pietro sighs in defeat. He knew that his sister has always held this particular fear about your relationship. She’s also always been fearful of losing anyone since their parents had been killed. She was understandably paranoid about it since those responsible had been trusted allies who betrayed them. It was hard to shake this especially when the person in question was you. You didn’t have much exposure to her side of things and you sometimes don’t realize how dangerous it can be. This can make it difficult for you to understand where Wanda’s coming from when she voices her concerns, but unfortunately, he knows that his sister doesn’t always deal with her fears in the best way.

“As frustrating as this will be to hear, you can’t protect her from everything. You can only do what you can, but you know that she’s got a good head on her shoulders. She’ll listen to you, but you also need to be nicer to her.”

Wanda slumps where she’s sitting when her brother says this, and she nods pitifully as she’s reminded yet again of her mistake. She can’t think too much about it because then she’ll start crying again, but she’s starting to think that’s what she needs. She really fucked up and she just hopes you can forgive her.

“Will you tell us what happened?”

You had come directly here after leaving the house because you knew that the compound was off-limits. It would be nearly impossible for you to go there without Wanda finding you. You needed a little time to think after your argument and this was the first place you thought of.

Your friends hadn’t been there and since you didn’t have a key, you’d resorted to just sitting in front of their door for close to an hour. You know it would have been faster to call them, but you also didn’t want to have to explain things to them over the phone. You didn’t really want to explain things at all, but you knew you had to. Not only that, but it would probably help you come to terms with whatever you planned to do next. You valued your friends’ opinions a lot, and you wanted their take on this. Not to mention, they knew Wanda before you and they could certainly offer insight on what she might be thinking.

Since starting to date and eventually marrying Wanda, you’d learned that the greatest obstacle in your relationship was her job. Whether it was specifically her tendency to be MIA, vague or something more like this, you knew it would always be an issue. You’d predicted that you would have to deal with your wife’s enemies at some point, and the fact that the two of you couldn’t get on the same page about it was frustrating to say the least. You would admit that you were ignorant to a lot of what Wanda did, and as a result you couldn’t entirely appreciate where she was coming from. This was an obstacle that you could only see the two of you overcoming if you had a difficult, and quite frankly terrifying conversation about Wanda’s business.

You looked to the duo before trying to summarize your fight with Wanda. You’re not very successful.

“Someone almost shot me last night, and during a fight about it, Wanda told me that she shouldn’t have married me."

Yelena’s jaw drops while Nat’s clenches at the idea of Wanda saying such a thing to you. She could understand Wanda’s anxieties associated with you being in the line of fire, but the other redhead didn’t always deal with them well. She was extremely distrustful and would lock you in your house 24/7 if you’d agree to it in order to keep you safe. However, that’s not something you want, and you don’t want to fight with your wife, but this seems to keep happening each time you’re threatened.

Nat tries to figure out how to ask what’s on the tip of her tongue while Yelena grumbles something under her breath before shaking her head.

“As stupid as that was, Y/n, Wanda loves you. She’s just…”

“A jerk sometimes?”

“I was going to say not the best communicator, but that too.”

Nat shoves her sister gently which makes Yelena glare at her, but she ignores her as she reaches out for you.

“What are you thinking right now?”

It’s a loaded question but Nat just wants you to try and talk through it. She’s sure it will make you feel better, or at least help you figure out what you want to do next. They were happy to let you crash here, but did you really want to do that? You’re frowning as you consider what you’re feeling at the moment. You suppose the most obvious is hurt. Wanda’s never said something like that to you before no matter how stressed she got. She always blamed herself which you didn’t like, but this alternative was somehow worse. She’d made you feel like your entire relationship was a mistake. Married or not, you know that being with Wanda was a risk, and this had been an understanding between you two. You knew the risks, but you thought being with Wanda was worth it.

Maybe you were wrong.

Yelena and Nat have a silent conversation that wraps up right before you look up from your lap. You don’t want to be near Wanda right now. Her stress will just overwhelm you and you don’t feel like dealing with that. Not to mention you feel so unwanted right now that you can barely stand to think about it. You knew your wife loved you, but has she been regretting marrying you this entire time? You know you asked her, so it hadn’t been her idea, but she’d seemed thrilled about it.

“I’m thinking that I want to steer clear of Wanda for a while, but I’m already missing my dog.”

The sisters laugh but they understand what you’re asking them. Yelena moves closer so she can wrap an arm around you and pull you in for a hug. Nat smiles before looking at her phone. She’s not surprised to see that Wanda’s texted her, but she’s in no hurry to answer. She has another idea.

“I guess you can crash here with us, right Natasha? We’ll watch a relaxing horror movie and eat a bunch of ice cream.”

You smile at the idea and you’re grateful for the distraction as you consider what movie to watch. You pull out your phone to look at the list you’ve made to ask Yelena to watch. You barely notice the 32 notifications, probably all from Wanda as Nat stands up with a nod.

“I can run to your place and get Boone. Fanny would love to have another friend here.”

You stand up to hug your friend gratefully before you take a deep breath.

“I can go with you. She’s probably not there.”

Nat’s already shaking her head before she pats you on the back and turns you toward Yelena who’s already grabbed the remote.

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll get him and then bring him back here. It won’t take long at all.”

With one more hug you watch Nat leave before you sigh in exhaustion. You lean back against the couch cushions and squeeze your eyes closed. This is not how you’d wanted your weekend to go, but you really can’t chose when someone tries to kill you. You feel Yelena sit back too before she leans against your arm with a sigh. She hates to see you so down, and she hopes that Nat yells at Wanda a bit if she is home, but for now she’s going to focus on you.

“Do you want to eat first, or choose a movie?”

When you don’t respond immediately Yelena frowns before she sets down the remote and grabs her phone from her back pocket. She doesn’t have a message from Wanda, but that’s because the redhead knows that she wouldn’t respond well to anything she said. Between the two sisters, Yelena’s a little more critical of Wanda whenever the two of you have a disagreement. She’s not blindly loyal to you, but she knows that most of the time you fight it’s not because of anything you did. When it is, she tells you the truth and usually the issue is easy to resolve.

Something like this is usually Nat’s expertise because she’s the one who knows Wanda best. Since she shares some of the same anxieties as Wanda, but about her sister, she is slightly more sympathetic than Yelena is. Usually. Tonight, as she’s speeding down the road to pick up your dog she wonders if this same issue is going to come up for the remainder of your marriage. However long that may be. She’s not sure if anything can be done to ameliorate the situation. You’d only just started to agree to training sessions, and you’ve been married to Wanda for barely a year. She’s not sure if all the training sessions in the world will be enough for Wanda to feel comfortable with you continually being exposed to the dangers of her job.

This of course is something that should have been settled before you two got married, but Nat’s not sure that’s her business. Her main concern tonight is you, and as she arrives to your house, she sees that most of the lights are off. Wanda’s probably at the compound, but she sees Boone almost immediately as she gets out of her car. He’s staring out the window, and he’s barking at her like a good guard dog.

“Good boy. Now let’s get you to your mom.”

Wanda’s almost home when she receives a call from her security company. Given the couple of days she’s had, she’s very on edge and answers it immediately. She’s expecting the worst but instead she’s told that her friend has broken into her house. She sighs in defeat and speeds the rest of the way home to find out how you’re doing. Her talk with her brother hadn’t made her feel much better, but she knows what she has to do to make it up to you. She just needs you to give her a chance first.

“Natasha, do I even want to know how you got in here?”

Wanda shuts the front door behind her as she looks around for her friend that’s been packing a bag for you and Boone. She’s not sure how long you’ll want to stay, but she doesn’t want you to have to make a trip back here before you’re ready. She drops the bag she’s packed on top of the small pile next to the couch before turning to the redhead. Boone’s walked over to greet her, but Wanda’s focus is on the bags that Natasha’s packed for you.

“There’s a window on the third floor that’s not locked. I’d fix that if I were you.”

Wanda sighs in defeat before she dares to ask what the redhead’s doing here. Nat goes to grab Boone’s leash and the shepherd jumps toward her excitedly while Wanda just frowns in disappointment at what she knows is about to happen.

“I assume Y/n is with you?”

Nat doesn’t answer immediately instead she hooks Boone up and pets him with a smile that causes him to whine excitedly. He misses you and he must think that Nat’s going to take him to you. He also may just smell Fanny on her and he hopes she’s nearby.

“Do you remember what you asked me to do when you and Y/n got married?”

Wanda had not been expecting this question and she frowns in anticipation of how this conversation is going to go. She sighs before biting her lip in thought. This is a loaded question but given the circumstances, Wanda has a feeling she knows exactly what Nat’s talking about.

She sits down in the nearest seat before crossing her arms with a heavy sigh. She just wants to go to bed. It’s been a long day and her stress headache was making her dizzy. She was going to try and call you one more time, but now that she has confirmation that you’re with Yelena, Nat’s presence here tells her as much, she might hold off. She doesn’t want Yelena to answer for you and just yell at her.

“I think I do, but I have a feeling you’re going to remind me either way.”

Nat frowns as she drops Boone’s leash and ignores his whines as she walks over to where Wanda’s sitting at the counter. She still has her gun on her and the dark circles under her eyes tell Nat that she didn’t sleep much last night, maybe for even longer. Nat hopes she feels a little guilty about what she’s done, and she decides to remind her that she should just in case.

“Make sure I’m good enough for her, remember that?”

Wanda immediately looks away in shame, and her gaze drops to Boone who’s sitting beside Nat eager for a walk. She almost wants him to leave because his presence is just a reminder that you’re not here when you should be. She doesn’t realize though that as soon as he leaves though she’ll really be left alone with her self-deprecating thoughts.

“Well, you’re not right now. I hope you know that."

Wanda scowls at the unnecessary reminder that she’s fucked up. Only everyone she’s talked to today has told her that she made a mistake. The only person she hadn’t been able to talk to about this was you, but you were understandably avoiding her for the time being.

“Are you saying someone else would do a better job?”

Wanda’s not quite sure where that came from, but the jealousy in her tone is obvious to both of the redheads. Boone just sits and watches the interaction with an impatient whine. It’s against the rules for someone to put on his leash and then not take him outside. You would never do this to him.

Nat rolls her eyes spectacularly and Wanda has to suppress the urge to groan in annoyance. She hadn’t meant Nat when she’d said this, but she figures that this is karma biting her in the ass yet again. She still occasionally thinks about how you and Nat were not quite a thing only a few years ago. It’s as disturbing as it is infuriating, but you both don’t ever talk about it or even think about it honestly. You two view each other as sisters, and the idea of doing anything like that again made you a little nauseous.

“Enough. That’s like you sleeping with Pietro, unless of course you want to do that.”

Wanda’s clear disgust is answer enough but she still shakes her head as she forces the image of her brother out of her mind. He’d drunkenly gone to the wrong rooms at the compound one night, and Wanda had been in bed asleep with you. She’d heard a noise that startled her awake and she jumped out of bed to investigate. She’d dropped her gun and screamed so loudly you woke up when she found her brother in the middle of her living room naked as the day they were born. She shudders at the memory before muttering something petulant under her breath.

“No, I don’t. I just want to talk to my wife.”

Wanda almost regrets calling you that because it brings both of their attention back to the issue at hand. Wanda had never meant what she said because she loved you and wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. She just failed to realize how much of a difference having a girlfriend versus a wife was in the eyes of her enemies. She hadn’t expected you to be threatened so quickly and by so many, and she’d already been on edge about a recent threat when this happened. Wanda doesn’t need anyone to tell her that she reacted poorly because she knows this. She’s only a little embarrassed that the entire family is learning of her mistake, but she mostly cares about you at the moment.

Nat just frowns as Wanda’s expression turns sadder with each passing second. She doesn’t want to give her false hope, but she isn’t cruel enough to say what she’d first thought after hearing what she’d told you. She sighs before shaking her head and looking to Boone who had given up trying to get her attention. He was sniffing his food bag and probably plotting to tear into it when she speaks up.

“She’s not ready to talk to you, but give her some time and too many horror movies with Yelena.”

Wanda’s still frowning as Nat gathers up the bags she’s packed and nods Boone toward the door. She doesn’t bother with his leash because he’s just going into her car, so she just lets him drag it behind him. Her hands are full but she only has a couple of seconds to contemplate how she’ll nudge Boone out of the way and open the door when Wanda stands up. She’d considered just watching her friend leave with an annoyed scowl, but she figures being petty won’t help her in the long run. She is a little upset that you’ll be staying with Nat and Yelena for a while, but she’s grateful that you have someone that you can rely on.

“Thank you, Nat.”

Her voice is only slightly strained as she says this, and Nat shoots her a curious look as Wanda turns on the outside lights and opens the door to let Boone run out. She watches as he heads straight for Nat’s car before jumping in through the back window with an excited bark. She can’t help but frown before she forces herself to smile as she turns back to Nat.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

Boone doesn’t hesitate to run inside the apartment as soon as Nat opens the door. He’d been antsy the entire ride here in anticipation of seeing you again, but he runs into Fanny first and gets sidetracked. Watching him greet and play with the other dog makes you smile widely, and you hold your arms out from where you’re sitting on the couch when he finally turns toward you.

“Hi Boone!”

Your dog jumps on top of you and licks your face enthusiastically which makes you laugh as you try to push him off so his fur doesn’t get in your mouth. He obeys only because you stand up and kneel on the ground so you can get closer to him. You hug him tightly before kissing the top of his head and scratching his face.

“Good to see you bud. Were you a good boy for Nat?”

Your friend just smiles at the sight of you loving on your dog before nodding as you turn to her questioningly. You stand up to help the redhead with the bags she’s brought but she shakes her head before taking them to the guest room with a smile.

“Don’t worry, I got it. He was a very good boy. Tried to bite me when I broke in.”

You find yourself following your friend in confusion as you try to process what she’s said. You suppose you shouldn’t be too surprised because you hadn’t expected Wanda to be home, and you hadn’t thought to give her a key. You hope that nothing had been broken in the process and you can’t help but ask as you look between your dog and Nat.

“Really? Well, I guess that answers my next question about whether or not the house was empty.”

You figured that Nat wouldn’t have broken in if Wanda was home because that was just asking to get shot. You realize that you’re not entirely correct when Nat frowns as she moves toward the kitchen to pour herself a drink. After seeing and talking to Wanda she definitely needs one, and she offers one to you as well but you shake your head before standing up to follow Nat as she moved around the kitchen.

“Actually, Wanda showed up after I did. She was probably alerted of my arrival now that I think about it.”

You roll your eyes at this before nodding in agreement. Wanda had the security company on speed dial and they often called whenever something out of the norm happened. Nat breaking into their house was probably one of these times.

“Oh. Did you-did you talk to her at all?”

This seemed like a ridiculous question but Nat just nods as she grabs another glass to pour you something other than alcohol. She makes you a mocktail of what she’s having and you smile widely as you watch your friend play bartender. She’s going to have to remind you how to do this soon. Maybe while you’re here if she’s not too busy. Yelena glances back to the movie that’s paused before she decides to venture in the kitchen for more snacks and some eavesdropping.

“Yeah, we did. She didn’t really say much. Just that she wanted to talk to you.”

You frown slightly despite not being surprised by this at all. You wonder how Wanda’s doing, but almost as quickly you decide that you can’t think about her right now. You need to focus on yourself and how you feel about all of this. You need to consider your options and figure out what you’re going to do. You take a sip of the drink that Nat slides toward you and you smile widely before drinking a little more.

“Mmm this is really good, Nat. Damn.”

After Yelena grabs some snacks, the three of you head back over to the couch to finish the movie. Nat’s not really paying attention as she’s on her phone, but she’s more than happy to spend time with you and her sister. You’re both so carefree at the moment as you laugh at the ‘scary’ parts of the movie or scream when something dramatic happens. In that moment Nat can see you enjoying yourself and hopefully forgetting all about the past couple of days. She nearly jumps with you two when she glances at the screen at the wrong time and gets a jump scare immediately. She’s still smiling as the movie ends and you fall asleep curled up on the floor next to your dog. There hadn’t been room for him on the couch, so you’d gotten on the ground with him and as soon as you laid down you were out.

The sisters let you stay there for a bit while they caught up on some things. They spoke in Russian just in case you were listening, but from how evenly you breathed beside your dog they both figured you were truly asleep.

“So how was it really? Did she say anything to you?”

Nat frowns at the question before shaking her head. Wanda hadn’t really said anything other than what she’d already told you, and she is actually a little surprised by this. To be fair, she also looked exhausted and stressed so she probably was saving her energy for a conversation with you.

“Nothing. She obviously feels bad, but she just wants to talk to Y/n.”

Yelena hums sounding unimpressed as she glances to where you’re still sleeping deeply. She wonders what’s going through your head. Nothing good she assumes because she can’t imagine that you want to face Wanda’s cruel words right now. She still can’t believe that your wife had said that to you. However, the more she thinks about it, really thinks about how your relationship has grown in the past couple of years, she realizes that Wanda loves you. She loves you more than anything and she never would have said this and truly meant it.

She sighs in defeat before mumbling something under her breath. Her sister just laughs before deciding that it might be time for you to sleep. It’s getting late and despite how comfy you look, the bed in the guest room is definitely more comfortable.

“I want to be happy about her misery, but that means Y/n is miserable too.”

When Nat taps you on the shoulder and wakes you from your nap, you’re quick to take her up on her invitation to go to bed. You’re not sure what time it is, but you’re so tired that you don’t even care. You set Boone’s bed beside yours before retreating into the bathroom to get ready. A few minutes later you’re already under the covers and you sigh heavily as you try not to think about what you have to do tomorrow.

Wanda curses under her breath as she climbs down the stairs back to her bedroom with a scowl. She’d just locked the window that Nat had broken into earlier, but luckily it was just a quick fix. The redhead had somehow climbed through a window 6 feet off the deck, but she wasn’t even going to think about how that was possible right now. She was exhausted and depressed by the idea of having to go to bed by herself. The house was empty except for Fletcher who was more or less ignoring her because why wouldn’t she.

So Wanda was surrounded by silence and the only thing she could think to do was try to sleep. So far she hadn’t been successful, and she was contemplating smoking some of your pot when her phone went off. She reaches for it embarrassingly quickly despite knowing that it’s not you who’s texting her. Still, she sighs in disappointment when she sees it’s her brother, but when she reads the message, she’s sitting up straight.

We found out why Y/n was targeted.

When you wake up the next morning you feel refreshed and lighter than you have in days. The stress of being with Wanda as she tries to figure out who was after you has dissipated in one night’s sleep away with just your dog for company. You sigh as you sit up and roll onto your stomach so you can reach out for Boone with a smile. You scratch his ears and kiss his head before daring to look at your phone.

You realize it’s almost 10am.

You also now have 53 notifications from Wanda.

You set your phone down because you can’t deal with her right now, and you force yourself to get out of bed and start with your day. You need to walk and feed Boone and then feed yourself. You open the bedroom door and walk into a quiet living room. You look around for a note from your friends before finding it in the kitchen. It’s from Nat and it says that they should be back mid-day, so you just decide to take a short walk with Boone before lazing around all day.

You don’t realize that your friends are actually with your wife until they come back home later to find you eating lunch and watching something mindless on television. You are surprised to see that they’re not alone and you stiffen at the sight of your wife. Suddenly you feel ridiculous still dressed in what you slept in and eating something way too sugary as you sit in front of the television with your dog. You are very unprepared for any encounter with Wanda, but it seems that you’re not going to get a choice in the matter.

Wanda tries to resist the urge to run to you as soon as she sees you sitting in front of the TV. She hadn’t planned on seeing you today, but given how this morning had gone she thought it necessary to at least deliver something to you personally.

“Y/n, I’m sorry for ambushing you, but we tried to call and give a heads up.”

“Wanda’s just here to give you something, then she’s going to leave. Right, Wanda?”

Despite hating it she nods in agreement as she follows the sisters into the apartment. She wanted to make sure that you were caught up about what happened this morning, and as Nat had said, as soon as she delivers what she brought you, she’ll leave.

Earlier that morning

Wanda’s on her third cup of coffee as she struggles to stay awake for the 36th hour straight. She had returned to the compound to meet her brother once he’d told her what had been found out. She was a little shocked to hear about the reasoning behind your ambush the other night, but she was mostly feeling even guiltier about everything that she’d said. She had always feared that her work would put you at risk, and it did, but this apparently wasn’t one of those times.

The man who’d come after you was the brother of a man, a boy at the time, that you’d known when you were just in your teens. You’d met him in the first year at university and he’d become obsessed with you. You hadn’t understood why, and soon his seemingly innocent infatuation became borderline stalkerish behavior. He’d show up outside of your classes and then your dorm room. You began to go out of your way to avoid him, and you’d found that he’d left letters for you whenever you didn’t show up for a while, and you finally had to go to someone for help.

Talking to him hadn’t done much. He’d honestly only become more insistent when you told him you weren’t interested in a relationship with him. He told you that you were confused and that he’d prove to you that he was right for you.

You hadn’t known what to do and going to your counselor at school had only led to the police getting involved. You hadn’t wanted this but other options hadn’t really proved useful. It didn’t stop him from showing up at your dorm one night drunk and angry. He had pushed his way inside forcing you to call the cops and he’d gotten jail time for a few months.

You thought that would be the end of it, but once he was out of jail for a while you were informed that he had overdosed. Apparently, he’d gotten into or started using more while in jail and he’d suffered an accidental overdose in his apartment.

You were surprised and mostly disappointed to hear that this happened. However, you couldn’t deny that you were relieved to be free from his attention, and your brief appearance at his funeral was enough closure for you.

You hadn’t thought about him at all, and you certainly hadn’t mentioned him to Wanda during your time together. She was unsure of how to proceed with this, and she wanted to talk to you about it. She looks back down at the near dozen letters in her hands that were faded, but still legible and all addressed to you.

Wanda sighs as she looks to her brother with a dazed expression. She doesn’t know how to handle this.

“What am I supposed to tell her?”

Pietro frowns at the question because although a little out of the blue, they have a simple explanation of what happened. It might be a bit of a shock for you, but Wanda had an answer like she’d wanted all along, so he couldn’t figure out what her hold up was.

“Just tell her everything you know. She’ll probably remember him.”

Wanda’s not worried about that. She figures it would be hard to forget an incident like this despite it being years ago. Wanda’s more concerned with the fact that she has to tell you that your attacker didn’t go after you for any reason related to her work. She’d have to eat her words and admit that despite her fears, this incident was not due to her involvement in the mob or your marriage. Wanda runs her hand through her hair as she downs the rest of her coffee with a grimace.

“I’m going to have to tell her that this wasn’t related to my work. That just makes my horrible reaction even worse.”

Pietro thinks about this for a minute and unfortunately, he can’t really argue with what his sister’s saying. He wonders how you’ll react to this, and once Nat and Yelena get back from dealing with the brother, he’s sure she’ll try to talk them into letting her see you.

Eventually, Pietro shakes his head and just offers his sister an uncharacteristically serious look.

“Just tell her the truth, sestra. It’s what she deserves.”

Now that you’re sitting on the couch with your wife standing in front of you and your friends at your sides you almost wish that she hadn’t done this. As bewildering as the truth was, you couldn’t deny it when you have the letters that you’d been written years ago. The letters that you assumed the police still had. You look down to the faded paper with the slightly smudged ink and you shake your head as you look between your wife and friends.

“So he came after me as revenge? He blames me for his brother’s death?”

It sounded like one of the storylines of a daytime drama. The fact that part of your past was the reason for your near miss the other night was still a little shocking. You’d figured, like Wanda, that one of her enemies had targeted you, but this somehow feels worse. You feel your stomach drop further when Wanda just nods and tells you what the brother had said before he was carted off to jail.

“He didn’t think his brother had ever gotten over you, and he’s held onto these letters and been trying to find you ever since.”

That idea sends a chill up your spine and you try not to think about what could have happened if you’d been targeted without Wanda’s protection. Despite how much grief you give her about it, you’re starting to think that Bucky shadowing you should become a permanent thing. You can’t think about that now though because you’re remembering how frightening it had been to be pursued by someone who was so persistent. You shake your head before standing up slowly and looking between the trio with slightly wide eyes. They could all tell you were a little overwhelmed, and Wanda had to hold herself back from trying to comfort you.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. I just need some time alone I think.”

Wanda wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but this wasn’t it. After you retreated to the guest bedroom that you and Boone had been staying in she waits for the sisters to tell her to leave. She’d done what she’d come by to do, and she’d promised to leave after. She doesn’t want to in the slightest, but she wasn’t going to argue about it now. You were too distressed to give her your attention anyway.

So Wanda left and you spent the rest of the day in bed going between trying to sleep and looking over the letters that had haunted your dreams a decade ago. You sigh in frustration at the fact that you’re not at home, or rather that you don’t have your wife by your side to make you feel better. You’re failing to relax whenever you abandon the letters because your mind wanders to the man you hadn’t thought about since you left his funeral.

University had already been difficult for you, but when this happened you’d been even more stressed out. You didn’t know how you were lucky enough to attract his attention, David’s attention, but you had and it made you wish you hadn’t been so conflict averse. As you lay in bed with Boone at the foot of the bed, you wonder how different things would have been if you’d met Wanda earlier. This thought makes your frown deepen and you sigh in defeat before rolling back over onto your side. You have too much to worry about right now, and you don’t know where to start. You should probably figure things out with your wife first, but the idea of your almost shooter makes you pause.

Maybe you could start with him.

It was nearly time for her to fail to sleep again when Wanda hears from you. She’d been lying in bed trying to drown out the silence with a cooking show when her phone vibrates on the side table making her startle. She nearly drops her drink with a curse before she sighs in exhaustion. She really needs to go to bed. It’s been almost 48 hours since she’s had more than an hour of sleep. She thought liquor would help, and even with Fletcher sitting on your pillow, she still can’t relax enough.

When she sees your name in her notifications she almost throws her drink aside in her rush to open the message.

Can I talk to him?

Wanda’s shoulders sag and she has to stop herself from frowning in disappointment. This isn’t what she’d hoped for, but she’s at least grateful that you’re talking to her. Kind of. You could have asked Nat or Yelena to talk to her instead, so she supposed this was better. Wanda considers your question for a few minutes before she finally responds. She does still have your stalker, Shawn in custody, but she hadn’t decided what she was going to do. Turning him over to the police just meant that he’d be thrown in jail for the rest of his life. This was better than him being free, but Wanda didn’t like the idea of him being around at all. Any chance of him being able to send someone after you put her on edge. She’s not sure she could ever relax knowing her was still alive, but this just brought her back to the reason why you weren’t here with her right now.

Pietro, Nat, and everyone else she’d talked to recently was right. It didn’t matter if you were her wife or girlfriend, you would always potentially be a target and that terrified her. She had tried to remind herself that she, Bucky and everyone else she had on her side did a good job of protecting you. Sure it wasn’t fool proof, but the other night had proven that she could keep you safe. It was just a matter of being as prepared as possible, and stacking the odds against anyone who targeted you.

She realizes that her own anxieties and past experiences are the reason why she can’t let this go. She can’t help but worry about you, and clearly she couldn’t express this well when you were resistant to her efforts. It was her fault that you were still with Nat and Yelena and not at home. She just didn’t know how to fix it.

You’ve emerged from the guest bedroom for the first time since Wanda came over and you’re not surprised to see your friends waiting for you. You’d heard them leave and then come back a while ago, but you hadn’t had the energy to talk to them yet. You were still mulling over your options and you didn’t know what you wanted to do first.

“Hey there.”

“Hi guys. Sorry for being such a freeloader, but I have good news.”

Wanda runs a hand through her hair again as she waits anxiously for you to arrive. After texting you back, you two had decided to meet this morning to go see Shawn together. Or that’s what Wanda was hoping to do, but maybe you were just counting on her just being an escort. She supposes she’ll find out soon because a familiar car comes roaring into the garage of the compound.  

Nat’s corvette comes to a stop beside her normal spot, but you step out before she parks. You wait for her though and you only shoot Wanda a quick look before you and Nat greet her together. You’d asked her to come with you because you didn’t want to be alone with your wife right now. You didn’t want to talk about your marriage right now, and you knew that Nat would be less likely to pick a fight with Wanda.

“Hey Wands. Thanks for doing this.”

You wife just smiles weakly at you before leading you and Nat inside the elevator. Wanda had imagined how this meeting would go a dozen times, and in all of them you reacted to her, well or not, more than you really did. You also didn’t have Natasha with you, but she figured this was to keep her from talking to you about anything other than your stalker. She also hadn’t counted on you standing closer to the other redhead than her, and she tries not to pout or comment on it for the entire short ride down to the elevator.

“He’s a little roughed up from when we caught him.”

You frown at this but don’t say anything as you follow Wanda out of the elevator. You barely saw him when he had you on the ground of the parking lot the other night. You wouldn’t have recognized him either way because you’re not sure you met him more than in passing all those years ago. When David had first shown interest in you, he’d taken you to his dorm to hang out in the common room, and his brother had been there. You’d been deeply uncomfortable surrounded by a group of people you didn’t know who were leering at you as if they all shared a secret.

You’d left pretty quickly after being introduced to David’s brother, but that one meeting wasn’t enough for you to recognize him as you walk into the least intimidating interrogation room there was in the compound. He was still handcuffed to his chair on the other side of the table that only had one other chair at it. You didn’t bother to ask if Nat and Wanda would stick around because they both followed you in, and they stood by the door as you moved to sit down. You ignore the two guards who leave as soon as Wanda arrives because you’re focused on the man who’s glaring at you.

You sit down and try to hold back a flinch at the feeling of your back against the uncomfortable seat. It’s your own fault for lying in bed all day yesterday. That always made you ache, but you don’t think about that now as you try not to appear intimidated by the enraged look that made you feel a little unsafe. He looked like he wanted to dive over the table and throttle you.

“Shawn. I have to say I’m surprised.”

This is an understatement. You’re also confused and a little horrified about how he’d managed to track you down. That said, seeing him so angry now, you figure he had a lot of motivation. You could almost convince yourself to feel bad for him, but he made it a little harder with what he said next.

“I’m the one who should be surprised, Y/n. After all of these years I never thought you’d turn out to be a dyke.”

You frown at the unoriginal insult and you decide to skip over it and get to the important things. You don’t see Wanda scowl or Nat frown in response, but Shawn’s gaze moves to them briefly before you speak up. You’d told David that you weren’t interested in him, and you had figured that he would share this with his brother. Then again, you had always underestimated the power of the male ego.

“That’s not why you came after me though, is it?”

You watch as the older man grits his teeth before his handcuffs rattle loudly against the chair when he tries to sit up and get closer to you. You don’t react and wait until he tells you what you’ve already heard from your wife. He blames you for David getting into drugs, and then overdosing.

He shakes his head before focusing in on Wanda for a moment, but you pretend not to notice.

“He loved you so much, and you wouldn’t even give him the time of day. You sent him to jail. You killed him!”

You had briefly wondered if the behavior that David had exhibited might be genetic. His ability to deny the truth and his manic episodes whenever you tried to convince him had to be something other than his bruised ego. His obsession and then subsequent addiction were due to illness, but it was difficult for you not to get frustrated about the outcome.

When you look back up to meet Shawn’s gaze, you realize he’s still looking behind you. You resist the urge to turn around, and instead try to bring his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, and I’m sorry that he overdosed. I did everything I could to get him to move on though, Shawn.”

You can’t hide your surprise at what happens next, and Nat has to stop herself from rushing forward to throw the man back against the wall. Chair and all. Wanda watches as Shawn lunges at you and lifts his chair as he tries to attack you from across the table. You start in surprise and are halfway out of your chair when you realize the table is stopping him from reaching you. It takes all of your self-control to sit back down and just let him shout at you in anger.

“Well, he didn’t! Then you just slapped him with a restraining order and got him sent to jail! You wanted him gone, and you made sure you would never have to deal with him again!”

You don’t say anything immediately because you aren’t sure how to really respond to this. It sounds bad honestly, and you’d understand his anger if he wasn’t leaving out a crucial detail. You sit up straighter and pretend like your wife and best friend aren’t standing behind you as you speak calmly to the man who’s slamming his chair back on the ground with a loud thud.

“Did David ever tell you why I got the restraining order?”

The confused look you get as a response tells you that David probably never shared this small, insignificant detail. You sigh before shaking your head in frustration. You’d only regretted sending David to jail for months, but he hadn’t given you a choice. He’d showed up to your dorm room drunk and angry, and you’d made the mistake of trying to talk to him. He couldn’t be reasoned with though, and after he’d pushed you onto your bed and tried to kiss you realized that you couldn’t let things go on. You’d called the police and then gone down to the station when they arrived to figure out how to get a restraining order against David. You only felt a little better once it was in place, but you never would have guessed that sending him to jail would be more than just a reprieve from his attention.

You hadn’t intended for it to be a death sentence.

You only tell his brother some of this before you decide that you want to leave. You’re not sure what you were hoping to accomplish by coming here, but you feel no better and you still don’t know what you want done with Shawn. You know he’s going to jail and will probably stay there for a long time, but with Wanda’s influence you didn’t know how long that would last.

You’re disappointed that you couldn’t resolve something today.

You leave him screaming profanities at you, and you sigh deeply before heading back toward the garage. You don’t want to stay here anymore, and you just want to go back to bed. You assume that you’ll go back to Nat’s place, but a hand on your shoulder stops you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?”

It’s not the redhead you thought it would be, but you still offer her a smile as you shrug in indifference. You feel like you’d just wasted your time because you don’t think that either of you feel better for it. You glance at Wanda over Nat’s shoulder before you decide that you need to accomplish something today.

“That was disappointing, but I guess it tracks. I need some time to think.”

Nat frowns in confusion, and Wanda listens as you tell your friend of your plan. You want to run back to her apartment, pack up and grab your dog before heading out. You don’t miss your wife’s look, but you wait until you reach the garage to address it. You wait until Nat’s in her car so you and Wanda can have a moment, and you try not to let this morning’s disappointment influence what you’re about to say.

Wanda has a bad feeling that you won’t be coming home with her any time soon, and watching as you brace yourself to talk to her just solidifies this. She realizes you’re disappointed by how things went with Shawn, and unless you tell her otherwise, he’s just going back into the system for someone else to deal with. You didn’t seem overly upset at him, and probably didn’t want him killed, but she wouldn’t really know. You hadn’t said anything to her at all.

Right now you just want to be alone, well with your dog, and away from other people for a while.

“I’m going to head back to Nat’s, and then I’m taking Boone for a walk. I know…”

You take a deep breath before you dare to meet your wife’s carefully optimistic gaze. You can’t dwell on that right now though, and you push on with a grimace. You really shouldn’t have sat in bed all day yesterday.

“I know we should talk, but I just can’t right now, Wanda. I need more time to think.”

Wanda frowns but she goes to nod in acceptance. She knows she can’t rush you, but she also can’t let you leave before she tells you how sorry she is just one more time. She doesn’t get a chance to before you speak up again, this time your voice is strained as you fight the tears that you feel welling up in your eyes. This day had just been a disappointment and your emotions are overwhelming you without having a proper outlet.

“Y-you really hurt me, Wands, and I can’t forgive you r-right now.”

As Wanda watches you wipe your eyes, she feels her own start to tear up. She hates that she did this to you. She hates that she let her fear take over during your argument, and that she’d said something so horrible to you. She wants to reach out for you, but she’s pretty sure you’ll just pull away given how upset you are. Instead, she shoots you an apologetic look that you miss as you shake your head in frustration. You hadn’t meant to cry in front of her, but now that you’ve started, you can’t stop.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean what I said, I promise. I--.”

She trails off as you shake your head harder and sigh in frustration. You pause to take a deep breath so you can get through what you need to say before you go sulk for the unforeseeable future. You briefly think of the trail that you’ll take Boone too as a distraction from your tears, and you smile at the thought before turning back to your wife. You stop short of speaking as you start to play with the rings on your finger. You’ve only stared at them for hours since leaving home, and you know you’ll continue to do so as long as they’re on you. Wanda watches in horror as you start to slide your wedding band and engagement ring off of your finger with a defeated look. She can’t bring herself to move as you hold them in your hand for a moment before you put them in your pocket. Wanda finds it only slightly less heartbreaking than having you give them back to her.

“I know, Wands. I just need time, okay?”

Wanda finally just nods before she swallows the lump in her throat so she can speak. She ignores the tears staining her cheeks as she glances between you and your getaway car that’s now running.

“O-okay, de-Y/n. Whatever you need.”

You just nod before deciding that you need to leave before you do something you’ll regret. You want to hug your wife, but you don’t want to give her false hope, and you don’t want to make yourself feel even worse. You know that if you put your arms around Wanda now, you’ll find it near impossible to let her go.

So instead, you turn away and head to Nat’s car with an inaudible sigh. You need to get out of here, and luckily your friend likes to drive fast.

“Bye, Wanda.”

Wanda can’t bring herself to say goodbye, so she watches you leave with teary eyes and an unbearable tightness in her chest. She doesn’t move as Nat pulls out of the parking garage and disappears from sight. Wanda takes a deep shuddering breath before she forces herself to turn around and head back inside. She needs a drink or two, and to deal with Shawn before she gets too distracted. As she steps into the elevator, she tries not to think about the possibility of you never coming back. She is already afraid that you’ll never put your rings back on, but the idea of you walking out of her life completely has her reaching out for something to steady her.

She squeezes her eyes shut as she arrives to her floor, but she barely notices as she lets the reality of her situation wash over her. She’s run you off, and she has no idea if you’re ever coming back.

She curses her idiocy before she sinks to the floor after letting the elevator doors close once again. She cries freely as her body crumples in exhaustion. She might just fall asleep on this cold, dirty floor, but she can’t bring herself to care. She feels like it’s just the beginning of the punishment she deserves for being so awful to you.

Wanda doesn’t notice when the doors open again, and someone nearly stumbles at the sight of her. She only realizes she’s not alone anymore when someone touches her arm and speaks in a worried whisper. Wanda just shakes her head but she lets her brother pull her to her feet as he presses the button for the top floor. She just sags against him as she waits to arrive to her old rooms.

“Come on, sestra.”

The next thing Wanda knows she’s falling into cold sheets and she quickly curls up under them as she continues to cry. The older Maximoff is at a loss and he quickly texts Nat to see what happened. She doesn’t answer because she’s driving, and when she sees who it is, she realizes she doesn’t want you around for this conversation. Pietro just frowns in frustration before he turns his attention back to his disconsolate sister He figures that this morning didn’t go as planned, and the fact that you’re gone again just makes Pietro sigh in defeat.

What was going to happen if you never come back?

Masterlist

[surftrips]

Could I request a JJ X reader where he notices reader is being quiet and pulls them aside to comfort them?

thank u for the request! this ended up being a little longer than a blurb, it's just over 1,000 words. enjoy <3

lovers rock

John B was hosting a "small" get-together at the Chateau for his birthday, but alas, word had spread and nearly the entire teenage population of the island was in his front yard.

You were making the rounds with JJ when he went off to use the bathroom. You should have just stayed where you were, but you decided to venture off and see who else was in attendance.

"Caroline? Hey, how it's been!" you greeted a brunette girl you had class with last semester.

"Y/N! I've been so good... hey is it true you're dating that Maybank kid now?"

You blushed, still not quite used to being in such a public relationship. It seemed as though the entire island knew your boyfriend and you're not sure how you felt about that.

"Uh, yeah, I am- I mean, we are dating." you said awkwardly, one hand brushing your other arm.

You couldn't make out the expression on her face because it quickly changed to a smile.

"Oh, that's so great! Listen, I'll see you around?"

As you waved her off, you made a mental note to ask JJ if he knew Caroline too.

After that conversation, the vibe of the party seemed to shift. It was like people began looking at you everywhere you went, and conversations grew quiet as you approached them.

You weren't usually an anxious person, but you couldn't help but feel as though Caroline and your relationship had something to do with this.

Growing increasingly nervous, you looked around for a familiar face. Please, Sarah, Pope, Cleo, where are you guys?

Instead, your eyes landed on your boyfriend. Next to a girl. Was that Caroline? Oh, he was next to Caroline. And she was leaning into his ear to tell him something. Something about you?

You were going to be sick. You quickly ran to the nearest bathroom and slammed the door shut, trying to gain control of your breathing.

You knew prior to dating JJ that he had a bit of a reputation on the island, but it didn't bother you. At the end of the day, you felt as though you knew him best. The image people had of JJ was nothing compared to all the intimate moments you guys shared.

For instance, no one else knew what it felt like to be in his arms and feel like nothing was wrong.

Right? No one else knew?

You seemed to be unsure of yourself. You knew that JJ had dated on and off before you, but you were his first serious relationship.

Did any of those girls feel the way you felt? The security? The doubts? The love? The fear?

"Hey! Open up!"

Shit. Someone had to use the bathroom. You quickly cleaned yourself up in the mirror and excused yourself as you walked out.

In front of you, you could see people taking turns drinking shots. Yeah, I could use some of that.

As you headed for the kitchen, you heard the familiar sound of your boyfriend.

"Y/N! There you are, I've been looking all around for you babe. Where did you go?" he asked, as caring as ever.

You tried to compose yourself. "Just had to use the bathroom," you smiled, innocently enough.

"Oh, okay. Getting another drink?"

"Actually, I think I'm gonna head home early. I'm just super tired," you said.

JJ's face smile instantly turned into a frown and you silently cursed yourself for making him sad. "It's only 10 pm," he said.

"I know... I just..." you scrambled to come up with something. Anything so you wouldn't have to have this uncomfortable conversation with him.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

"Do you know Caroline?" you blurted out before you could think the question through.

He seemed shocked, you had caught him off guard. This did nothing to ease your nerves.

"Caroline Halloway? Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I don't know, she was talking to me earlier and asking about us and then I saw her go up to you..." you trailed off, not sure if you wanted to find out something and regret it later on.

"Y/N, girls talk to me all the time. It doesn't mean anything. She was just asking how I was."

"But don't you think it's kinda weird? Like I only had one class with her last semester and she knows about our relationship?"

"I don't think it's weird. It's a small island, everyone knows each other. Y/N, tell me what's really bothering you."

Before you could open your mouth to speak, someone had cranked up the music in the living room and the sounds of teenagers cheering filled your ears.

"Not here," you said, dragging JJ's hand through the crowd and into his "bedroom" at the Chateau.

Once inside, he sat on the bed as you paced around the room.

"Are you sick of me?"

"What?" he asked, taken aback.

"JJ, I know I'm your first real girlfriend and that you've never been in a serious relationship this long before. I can't help but feel... sometimes that you're slipping away from me. Like you said, girls come up to you all the time! I'm worried you'll get tired of me."

"Y/N.... no, never," he was standing up now, walking over to take your face in his hands.

You were sniffling now, "I'm worried that you miss it sometimes... the hookups and no strings and non-commitment. That you'll crave some other girl's touch or fleeting intimacy or...."

"Baby, you're rambling. All I need is you. If I could go back in time, do you know what I would do?" he said, wiping tears away from your eyes.

You shook your head.

"I would go back in time and meet you earlier. All of the moments I experienced before you with other girls were fleeting, just like you said. What we have is solid. I wouldn't trade that for the world," he said.

"Promise?"

"Promise. I could never be sick of you. None of the other girls will ever compare to you."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your lips. "Come on, lay down with me."

You obliged, feeling a little stupid for your outburst now. JJ turned to the side table where his record player was, putting on some soft rock music.

As he turned to face you, you couldn't help but think about how pretty he was. Dirty blonde hair and blue-green eyes that you could drown in.

You snuggled in closer to him, tuning out the voices outside his bedroom door and focusing on the beating of his heart and the music.

You turned to give him a kiss before the end of the song.

[2demondogs]

Heartbreaking Charthur angst. Like a "What if..." Charles never left to help Rains fall and was there for Arthurs' end (high honor, help John ending)?

Anon I see ur vision, I respect your smoke, you are real for this, etc ad nauseam.

Any incorrect details um... blame it on the alternate timeline. I'll be honest I didn't proofread cuz this shit made me sad.

Words: 1.7k Tags: sickfic... :), character death, stream of consciousness, a lot of nondenominational religious Thoughts, major spoilers

Arthur had realized, since his first and last doctor's office visit, just how much time there was in a day.

Job after job after job and all that precious time he had never realized was slipping by. He wished he had never slept, for one; he hoped in the afterlife, if there was one, he might never sleep, because all things must end eventually, as he is still learning, and he'd hate to make the same mistakes twice.

He thought the Devil would look like Dutch, God save his soul — does he, here, mean himself, Satan, or Dutch? Arthur still doesn't know, supposes that they all need saved just as badly — and that he'd be worker of the month down there, too.

Turning tricks, maybe, wouldn't that be funny, workhorse to company pony, he thought recently, and then the pains started in earnest because workhorse wasn't always his middle name and it hurt badly to think of the days before.

Arthur still wants to go back.

It's been nearly an hour since Micah kicked him in the ribs. He knows, because he has become good at telling time, as if the universe is letting him on all those preternatural secrets a little early. It hurts so badly that it has ceased hurting at all— wouldn't he be sad to know it, if Charles had not shot him once Dutch had discarded him, too.

So many emotions on the matter of Dutch, yet no time to feel them. It's a good thing he began grieving him when Hosea died.

Instead of the sharp, white-hotness that he had worried was a rib puncturing his already squeezed lungs, there is now a constant ache throughout his body, maybe his very soul; he had used all of his breath screaming when Charles tried to move him, has not gotten one good one in since, and he thinks they both know the truth.

It's all up to one cough.

One last kick in the ass and it's lights out for old Mister Morgan, because that rattling in his breath can only mean one thing.

Charles kneels before where he lays on his side, looks down at him the way he had looked at that gored horse they came across while hunting, months ago— the way he looked at it before he told Arthur to put it out of its misery. He couldn't pull the trigger, even if he knew it was the kind thing to do. There is something meaningful in that memory which Arthur cannot think of words for, but he understands it the way men understand things when they are dying: silently, and completely.

Why is Charles so quiet, now? Arthur's eyes fall shut, and he cannot find the strength to open them for a long time.

He wouldn't be greedy if God came to him and said sure, son, you all look like ants from here, I'll drop you back into seventy-eight. Blood is seeping into his lungs, has to be, and every drop makes Heaven and Hell sound a whole lot more real.

In a perfect world, he might have left and made house with Eliza or made himself suitable for Mary, swallowed that boring life the happy way most men do. Because he would know. He would work in a mine and he would be happy to breathe in the coal, because he would know.

His wedding ring, he would know that, too, and suddenly this split-second daydream becomes a nightmare all over again.

I need to move on, Arthur, she wrote. It was one less thing to leave behind.

Sometimes he wished that Charles went, too, that he had chosen the type of belonging he'd grieved so often or that he had chosen Dutch, never to be on this mountain in the first place. That he had spat on Arthur and left him without a trace of his mortal life as he lay here dying, none except the familiarity of the sun breaking the sky and the grass dancing in the valley below — dancing, what a funny word for it, or maybe he's just hallucinating as his consciousness begins to slip to—

Well, wherever it's going to go.

No matter what, Arthur wishes that Charles did not look at him that way when he decided to stick around. They both knew it was because of Arthur, and they both knew it was temporary. He's been giving him the same look. Something like love, and grief.

I'm not dead, he wants to tell him, but Arthur knows there's no difference now and Charles doesn't deserve any more lies, anyways.

He lied to everyone, and selfishly.

How many of them will die? Hosea was coughin' more. Was I contagious before...?

That day, Arthur had realized just what all those science folks mean when they say humans are brief, in the grand scheme of things even if he was not egotistical enough to believe life begins and ends with himself— but men are temporary, and there's only been so many of them, and there only will be so many of them. He had marveled at the huge, ancient bones he found for that odd little critter of a lady, months ago.

Just yesterday, he entertained the idea that God had been real even before he needed Him most, and that He was telling him something by crossing their paths: Life before you, life after you. Don't get comfortable.

Rest assured, Big Man, he thinks, I am not.

But somehow, he almost is.

Death is certain, now. There is no guessing here, no waiting without knowing.

Some divine intervention, he's sure all dead men receive it as a consolation prize of sorts for completing the great big task of living. Charles' large, warm hand is on his shoulder, light as a feather. He tries to speak, even though he can barely think in words, and all he manages is a groan that comes from deep in his gut.

Arthur wishes he would crush him, that he'd hold him even if it made him scream in agony. He wishes Charles was—

Was—

No, he doesn't. He doesn't want Charles to give him the mercy execution.

Arthur just wishes he were not giving Charles his own form of execution. He is laying still, grimacing hard each time the shallow raise and fall of his chest makes his body scream. Charles has no idea what he is feeling, but he must be able to see on Arthur's face that he's feeling things inside his body which should not be happening: the sac of his lung ripping further open, his bowels threatening to let go, his sternum pressed tight to the skin above from a week of near-starvation because there is no amount of food that could feed the disease that is eating him alive.

He knows how it feels to watch a man you love die, even if his had been his father and he's certain that it's harder at their present age, and when you've chosen to love someone. No hands of blood had pushed them together.

Arthur wishes he had known it sooner.

He doesn't know if he ever wants to hear it from Charles' mouth, but he blinks his eyes open as the vague, misty image of that day finally fades for good. The sky is breaking hard beyond the shadow of Charles' form. It is glorious as sunrises always are. He feels his bones grinding on one another. He is clenching his teeth so hard, his molars are about to be pushed through the gums and into his mandible.

Never one for making his own decisions, Arthur wonders again if God is real or if he is coping with this horribleness in the only way he knows how: relying on someone else.

Again, he wants Charles to crush him. Even if it stabs the broken rib through his lung and out his back, even if it kills him before he can use his last breath to find out how his throat smells— he wants Charles to be the one to hold him.

Hosea is gone. So is Dutch. Arthur would long for Charles even if they were both here, although alarmingly he feels as though Hosea is somewhere around him — he cannot see, smell, or hear him but he knows it silently, and completely.

I love him, Arthur is thinking, has no time to study how selfish he would have felt just one month ago for his desires in this moment. Dead men cannot regret any longer, or maybe regret becomes like the pain when you are dead, grows so big that it blocks out the sun of peace. He made me feel safe, he thinks, already in the past tense, as if he is rehearsing what he will tell all the fellow skeletons.

He squints through the morning light and finds Charles' face, drawn tight in an expression he has never, ever seen before.

His eyes are open sores. He's never looked more like an angel.

With the last of his breath, Arthur opens his mouth and finds it suddenly very hard to draw in air. His throat itches, and if he swallows this cough he will simply choke on his own vomit instead— so he begins to hack, feels his lungs decompressing and the violent convulsions through his abdominal wall as things that are not meant to touch it touch it.

He gets his wish, because Charles is curling around him. He wants to shove him away, but then he doesn't; if Charles is going to get sick, he already has, and this is all he could have ever wanted in this moment. Charles is warm, and his chest presses over Arthur's jolting side as if holding him still, and he realizes the man has been talking but he has no time to regret not listening.

He's forgotten English, anyways, doesn't think in words anymore but feels everything. His throat thickens with the metallic taste of blood and his body squeezes, squeezes— Arthur goes stiff in panic and shock, fingers of both hands clawing into Charles' arm, and if either of them were sober the blood his nails draw would be felt.

In the moments before he can no longer breathe, he sees — with that nonmaterial eye that shows men dreams, nightmares, the best novels — something like peace.

Yes, Hosea feels very close now, and Charles, very far away.

[nilboxes]

I loved the way you characterise Aventurine! So I wanted to know your opinion if you think he’s able to have a fulfilling relationship, like life long sort of thing and what makes him hold on to that in spite of him always gambling on his life. Because I can’t really imagine an old Aven.

Hello Anon! Thanks, that's a first xD mostly people like my takes on Ratio more, but I do admit I find Aventurine harder to wrangle. There's just a lot to him but at the same time I keep coming back to feeling like "this guy's got noooothing"

So then, when you ask this, I don't even have like a good answer that isn't going to be a long essay.

Would he be able to hold a fulfilling relationship? In a way, yeah?

For me, I think Aventurine would love to be a family man. He'd be such a good dad! I just don't think his mental state would allow him to really be happy about it when he does get that because:

a) I don't think he will ever be free of being a Stoneheart and live a normal life b) because as he is his entire deal is that he is a man who got (nearly) everything (money + power) because he has nothing to lose.

So the nothing to lose bit is like, key to his character. If he becomes a family man the edge he has, the daring to bet his life vs what he wants to get will really start to have weight, he would start weighing that kind of wager more, and I think he thinks he can't risk that, because while we don't know what his new motivations are, I do think he would still want to accomplish a lot of huge things therefore...

The only way I see him gaining some balance in his desire to win against all cost but having like, a bit of attachment to life enough that there will be some stakes to make his mental state less bleak. He would probably permit himself only the ONE desire/one irreplaceable someone/one weakness, and that is all concentrated in Dr Ratio.

I feel like, idk, he's got to have something to live for, but not too much, enough to keep going. It might as well be 1 single person who he just wants to have a few pockets of peace with, not necessarily a white picket fence life, but just enough to get by in companionship etc. (I also don't think Ratio is the settling down kind tbh)

I really do see him winning until the very end though, at least he'd never lose a gamble where it counts. That said, I also don't think he'd get old, he'd probably die due to some recklessness or something. I do see him kinda sticking to the IPC though, but not because of Diamond's grander ambitions idk too early to tell.

I still really wonder what the deal was in the Myriad Celestia when he looked unhappy to receive his stone back. I don't think he was going to walk out of it alive, so did he want to die instead of come back to being a Stoneheart? It doesn't align with what should have been his character development at the end of the 2.1 quest and the title of his boss theme (Hell is Preferable to Nihility) suggests he is glad to face hell (continuing on his life) rather than be gone so anyway let's assume, he isn't exactly happy to be in the IPC but that is his the "state" that serves him best soooo

Thanks for the ask, anon! I hope that was sufficient answer enough and made sense. He's kinda hard to wrangle....

[hp-hcs]

IM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THE THEODORE X MALE READER THING AND IT WAS AMAZING I LOVE IT SO MUCH OMG

i’m glad!! 😭😭 i was stressing out so much over that one cause there’s no real coherent plot but i pROMISE I KNOW WHERE THE STORY’S GOING

ends at kind of a weird spot cause idk how to end anything ever

ty to the person who said this could be a five part series. i appreciate your confidence in my attention span.

requests? please, sir, i want some more 🥺🤲

this fire ain’t the only thing that’s camp (Chapter Two of Splinched) — death eater! theodore nott x splinched! male! muggleborn! reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Theodore comes tromping back into the clearing with an armful of branches, twigs, pinecones, and duff. He clumsily dumps the load into the snow, wiping snow off of the log-turned-bench by the fire pit, and sitting down.

“Okay, now what?”

“Build the fire,” you instruct. “Make a pyramid shape.”

You bring your hands together so that your palms are far apart but your fingertips touch, making an ‘A’ sort of shape to illustrate your point.

“The pine needles and dead leaves and stuff, that’s all great tinder. It’ll burn the quickest, and help start the fire. Put that in the middle of your pyramid. Build your pyramid around that with the kindling; the twigs and thinnest branches.”

Theodore does as you say, making a rather shoddy pyramid that he seems quite proud of.

You pull your blanket tighter around yourself. You sit inside the entrance of the tent, the flap open and pinned back so you can still talk to Theodore.

You had caught a nasty fever the day after Theodore’s spell, leaving you incapacitated for days. To make matters worse, an unexpected snowstorm—nearly a month too early—froze the entire forest. The storm itself reeked of bad magic; everything about it seemed unnatural.

Merlin must’ve had a vendetta against you both, because additionally during that time, Theodore’s wand had begun to spark and malfunction. The Dark spell he’d cast must’ve done serious damage to the core. But his wand had fully given up that morning, shriveling up and blackening like a spent match.

You toss him your lighter and watch as he unskillfully manages to light the tinder, by the grace of God, and cheers with a loud whoop! that sends the birds in the nearby trees scattering into the air.

“Now just add the bigger branches as needed,” you advise, your teeth chattering.

Much to his chagrin, Theodore was quite relieved with your silly Muggle knowledge. He had no idea how to make or light a campfire without his wand, but you assured him that it wasn’t difficult to do the Muggle way.

Glancing over at you with a dumb, silly grin on his face, quite proud of his own achievement, he opens his mouth to mock-boast, only to have his breath stolen from him.

You still look quite sickly, rather weak and tired, but you really make quite a sight. Against the dull olive of the tent and the muted dark blue of the blanket you’re completely enveloped in, the red, sick flush of your face stands out quite a bit. White snowflakes dot your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes seem to track his every movement.

Stop it, Theodore. You have a job to do.

Clearing his throat, he makes his way back to the tent, ducking in and sitting next to you while occasionally glancing over to keep an eye on the fire.

Your face barely peeks out from the thick blanket as you peer out at him. You clearly are thinking of asking him something.

Please don’t ask why I did it, please, for the love of Merlin, don’t ask, don’t as-

“Why’d you help me?”

Fuck.

“Hm?” Theo hums, as if he hadn’t understood you, wrapping one of the spare blankets around himself.

“You could’ve just left me to bleed out. Or you could’ve said fuck it and Apparated anyway. Why’d you help me?”

“The Dark Lord doesn’t like his things damaged,” Theo says in a gruff voice, any friendliness in his demeanor completely vanishing and signaling the end of the conversation.

You just nod, retreating back into your blanket cocoon.

You both sit in silence.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Three

[okminer07]

A Match Beyond Measure Pt 12

I don't know if I've said this before, but any and all feedback is appreciated, I'd love to be able to improve as a writer and hear what you think, any suggestions. Anyways, on with the story.

Cecilia was a little thrown off by the change of subjects, “Oh…. w-well a while. I guess”   

“Did you take a class or somethin’?”  

“N-not really, I used to work part-time at a bakery during high school if that counts.”  

Garret sighed, “I don’t miss those days, that’s for sure.”  

“You didn’t like high school?”  

He let out a short laugh, “Hated it. Mine started way too early and I lived a decent ways away, so I’d have to wake up even earlier to even make it on time. I don’t think my teachers liked me all that much either. There was this one woman, Mrs. Dechaseray and I swear she had it out for me. Always got mad at me for forgetting the date and then would give me an F because of it.”   

“That’s… harsh.”  

“Yeah, I know. And then there was our gym teacher. God, he was awful. One time he called me up to stand in front of the entire class and used me as an example of why exercise is important.”  

Cecilia’s eyes widened, her hand coming up to her mouth in shock, “That’s awful.”  

“Felt like it. And yeah, maybe he had a point if I’m being honest but it still hurt.”  

“What do you mean he had a point? That’s just horrible.”  

Garret frowned, “Well, my old man would say similar things so I was kind of used to hearing it.”    

Her eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry.”  

“What are you saying sorry for? You didn’t say them. Plus, they really did have a good point.”   

“Well, I think you look pretty good.”  

He smiled down at her, “Think so?” she nodded. “Thanks, I’m glad to hear that. High school wasn’t all bad. My last two years, I took up woodshop which was pretty neat. This one time, I helped make this huge-”  

A loud crunch along with the blare of a horn pierced through the air. Garret froze and looked down.  

“Ah shit.” 

Cecilia cautiously crawled and peered over the edge of his palm. All the color drained from her face as Garret lifted his foot to reveal the crushed remains of a red sports car. She began to tremble, it was nearly flat. Completely ruined and unrecoverable, like it had gotten caught under a steamroller. Was it empty? Oh god, had someone been in there?! She looked to Garret who was still staring down at the ground, cringing at the sight. 

His eyes flicked over to Cecilia, “I uh-”  

“What the fuck happened?!” both jumped at a voice screaming up from the ground. The two of them both looked back down to see a man dressed in a business suit running towards the remains, “My car! The fuck you do to my car?!”    

Garret looked around aimlessly before addressing the raging man at his feet “I’m uh- I’m real sorry sir. I swear to you it was a-”  

“You fucking son of a bitch! Do you know how much this cost me?! Do you?!”   

“N-no but I-”  

“Do you know who I am?!”  

“I uh- no” he glanced over at Cecilia, “B-but I swear, I can pay you back for-”  

“What is one of your kind even doing in these parts?! You lost or something dumbass?!”    

“I-”  

“It’s my fault sir!” Cecilia yelled, peering back over the edge nervously, “I-I was distracting him.”   

The man’s head turned to look at Garret’s hand, spotting her head poking out from behind it, “Who the hell are you?”  

“I’m-”  

“Oh let me guess” the man sneered, “You’re one of those lazy bitches who thinks they’re too good for traffic or cars. Thinks they're saving the fucking planet by hiring some giant to carry their sorry ass wherever-”   

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Cecilia’s hand flew up and clamped tightly over her ears which still rang from Garret’s thunderous yell.  

The man below had backed away, his hands slowly lowering from his own ears, “Watch it asshole. Don’t you be talking to me like-”   

“Don’t you be talking to her like that!”  

Cecilia shook as she looked up at Garret’s face. His jaw clenched as his gaze hardened. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked mad, furious even. It sent a shiver down her spine, seeing someone like him in a mindset where people don’t think before they act. She began to look uneasily at her surroundings, at the fingers thick as tree trunks and taller than her entire being. What were those fingers capable of when the person attached to them was tested? What could the rest of the person be capable of?  

She couldn’t stop a small whimper from escaping her. Garret’s eyes, now looking ice cold rather than just blue, flicked over to her and they immediately melted. His mouth dropped from a sneer to a contemplative frown as his eyes fixed on her.  

“I-I think I should go,” she murmured, not wanting to spend any more time around these two arguing, “Would… would you… you know”   

He nodded, “Oh, right.” Cecilia jumped slightly as Garret turned and began to slowly kneel down. He placed his hand flat upon the ground and she hopped down onto the pavement.  

“T-thanks again, for lunch.”    

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll text you, once I'm done dealing with all of this” he nodded over at the flattened car.  

Cecilia nodded as she turned and began to hurry away, the yelling of the man starting up again the moment she’d left.  

Her home as a child used to have this very vibrant wallpaper in the living room. It was covered in all sorts of different kinds of butterflies, and Cecilia had very vivid memories of almost everyday after school staring up at them all to pass the time. Her mother would be close by, sitting at the kitchen table with the phone in her lap while she stared out the window looking out into the front yard.   

There were hundreds of this day in her memory. At times, they all blended together. Some days she’d ask what was for dinner, often not getting a response. Other days she’d sit and do homework at the same table as her mother yet they exchanged no words. Sometimes she’d ask if she wanted to do something, bake, or go to the park, but her mother almost always said no.  

A lot of the time, however, she’d be stuck doing exactly what her mother was doing, waiting. 

It was either the phone or the door that broke the silence. Cecilia preferred it when it was the door. She’d lift her head off the couch to see her dad shuffling in, army duffle bag in tow. Her mother would finally move as she turned and smiled up at her husband who would lane down to kiss her, occasionally asking what their daughter was still doing up.  

She would run to her father and wrap her arms around his waist. He’d pat her on the back and ruffle her hair. Sometimes they’d all sit down on the couch, and he would tell them stories. Stories from his travels. Stories about- 

“Cece!” 

“Huh?” Cecilia looked up and across from her where Maddie was seated.  

“Are you even listening?”  

“I… yes.”  

She crossed her arms and raised a well-manicured brow, “Then what did I just say?”   

“Um…” she looked over helplessly at Rebecca who was sitting right beside her with her iguana, Enoch draped over her shoulder.  

She sighed, “Jennifer got the job.”  

“Huh?” 

“We don’t like Jennifer.”  

“Why?”  

Rebecca glanced over at Maddie, “Honestly, I don’t know.”   

“Because she had the audacity to show up to the party after the whole thing with her and Kyle!” 

Cecilia blinked, “Whose Kyle again?”   

“Her ex” whispered Rebecca.   

“Oh. wow, the audacity,” she replied flatly.  

Maddie threw up her hands, “I know! And then she’s all like…”   

Cecilia began to tune out once again as Maddie continued to rant. A part of her sort of enjoyed listening to her drama, even though half the time she had no idea what she was talking about. Today however, she just couldn’t seem to keep her mind from wandering.  

It was no surprise to her that the day right after the whole cafe incident, Rebecca had called her and insisted they all get together. They did this quite often, usually all gathering at Rebecca’s place since it was the nicest and her friend was insistent that she couldn’t just leave Enoch for any longer than she already had when at work.    

Often these little get-togethers were when they could talk outside the cafe. Away from the prying eyes and ears of anyone else.  

“Here” Rebecca got up and held Enoch out to her, “I gotta go check on the pizza.” 

She nodded as the iguana was thrusted into her arms and Rebecca hurried off to the kitchen. Cecilia sat frozen as the bright green lizard clawed its way up onto her shoulder. Enoch had always been friendly, but she was still always nervous that he would one day try to rip her ear off.  

“So… what are we watching?” called Maddie over her shoulder.  

“I was thinking Grease.”  

She snorted with laughter, “Has it been too long since you’ve seen your darling John Travolta?” 

“Shut up”  

Maddie held up her hands, “Hey, I’m not complaining. I like tall, dark, and handsome bad boys too.” she smirked over at Cecilia, “And I think Cece does too if you know what I mean.”  

Cecilia shrunk away, “W-what do you mean?”  

Rebecca rounded on them “If you’re implying that guy Garret looks like John-”  

“Oh come on! You can’t tell me you see it just a little bit” whined Maddie.  

Cecilia felt herself trying to sink deeper and deeper into the couch. She knew it wouldn’t be long before one of them would bring… him up. 

“So everybody with black hair looks that way to you?” 

“Black hair and blue eyes,” she corrected. 

Rebecca scoffed, “If anyone we know is an accurate comparison, It's Xander.”  

Maddie rolled her eyes, “Yeah if Travolta forgot the gym existed.”  Cecilia couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“You’re just jealous I’ve got myself a man like him” Rebecca stated matter-of-factly, “Anyways, pizza’s ready.” She stepped back into the living room, setting down the large pepperoni and mushroom pizza before turning around to grab them some plates and napkins. 

Cecilia handed Enoch back to Rebecca as she sat down, his claws pricking tiny holes in her sweater. She grabbed a slice and began picking off the pieces of mushroom.   

“Maddie” groaned Rebecca, “Can you please be an adult and use a plate?”  

Maddie paused mid-bite, her slice gripped tightly in her hand, “What’s wrong? And what about Cece? What’s more childish than picking off the vegetables?” 

She paused, glancing up at the two, “What? I don’t like vegetables.”   

“Well, she’s still keeping everything on the plate where it doesn’t run the risk of getting sauce all over my couch.” 

Maddie rolled her eyes as she snatched a plate off of the coffee table, “Since when are you a neat freak?”  

“Can we start the movie now?” asked Cecilia.  

Around two hours later, once the credits had begun to roll, Cecilia got up and started to clear their plates and napkins. Rebecca was currently preoccupied with cooing at Enoch and letting him eat bits off her slice.  

Maddie eyed them with a slight air of concern, “Are you sure you should be feeding him that?” 

Rebecca ignored her, continuing to snuggle up with her scaly pet.  

Cecilia shook her head and smiled, “She’s fed him things like ice cream and donuts. I think he can handle a bit of cheese and marinara sauce.”  

Her friend shrugged it off as she got up from her seat, “I brought a bottle of red with me if any of you want some.”  

“I’ll have a glass” Rebecca got up and followed Maddie over to the kitchen, “You want any?”  

“No thanks,” said Cecilia.   

After her two friends had each poured themselves a glass, they plopped themselves back down on the couch.  

“So…” started Rebecca, “Gone out with anybody recently Maddie?”   

“No, can’t say I have” both of them kept not so secretly glancing over at Cecilia, “Everything going good with Xander?”  

“Yup, going alright.”  

They both turned to their friend who was very slowly turning a shade of pink. Oh boy. 

“So… a giant,” said Maddie.  

“Heh, yeah,” she mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.  

“How has that been?”  

“ Uh well, like I said… interesting.”   

“I would imagine so.” Maddie leaned back, “You know, I’m honestly quite impressed.”  

“Impressed?”  

“Well, I’m just wondering what the hell you said or did to bag that guy.”  Cecilia’s face went from slightly pink to beet red.

Rebecca nearly choked on her wine, “Maddie!”   

“What?! It’s a reasonable question.”   

“They barely have seen each other!”  

“How would you know? What, you’ve been backseating all their dates without telling me?”   

Cecilia covered her face with her hands and groaned, “It’s not official or anything like that, guys. Like I said, I don’t even know what it is.”   

“Well, why don’t you tell us more?” 

A smirk appeared on Maddie’s face, “tell me more, tell me more,“ she began to sing. 

“Guys-”  

Rebecca joined in “Tell me more, tell me more.” she scooted closer while Maddie got up and sat down on Cecilia’s other side, “tell me more, tell me more.”  

She sighed, “Will you guys stop singing if I do?”  They promptly stopped and nodded, leaning in closer, “What do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” said Maddie.  

“How has he been so far?” asked Rebecca.  

She shrugged, “Well, like I said, nice. Very nice actually.” 

“Uh-huh, and what do you mean by that? Because someone not being mean to you doesn’t count as being nice.”  

“He’s just been… very nice.”   

“Is he the reason for the broken glass bottles I found when I opened the day after your first date?” shot Maddie.

Cecilia’s cheeks flushed, “Uh yeah. Sorry, I forgot to clean those-”   

“What was dinner like? What did he-”  

“Quiet.” Rebecca scolded before turning back to Cecilia, “You’re being careful right? Is he being careful? Like, he hasn’t put you in any danger?”   

“Rebecca, come on. There’s always an amount of danger when dealing with those skyscrapers.” continued Maddie, “And why-” 

“Because, and I don’t mean to be judgemental, but he doesn’t seem… particularly… you know… experienced in taking precaution.”  

Cecilia gulped, “He… he did say he hadn’t spent much time around humans” She looked down at her feet, “But… I think he’s trying. I still don’t know what to make of this.” she sighed, “And… and I feel bad th-that I’m still…”  

“Afraid?” 

she nodded. 

Maddie tilted her head, “I mean, I haven’t known you as long as Rebecca has, but I’ve seen how you’ve reacted to giants in the past. Hell, remember when you nearly fainted when that group of teenagers started ruff housing in the parking lot? Sean had to coax you out from the back.” she waved her hand at her, “But just a little bit ago, I saw you voluntarily stepping into a giant’s hand. Sure you looked like you were going to faint at any second, but you still did it, and I’d say that’s pretty impressive for you.”   

“And I think you have every reason to be afraid. Like Maddie said, there is always a sense of danger around giants. But even putting that aside, there’s still the fact that we have no idea what his motive is.”  

Cecilia cocked her head, “Motive?”  

“Yeah, like why the hell would a giant want to be with a human in the first place.” 

Rebecca patted Cecilia on the shoulder, “It’s not that we think someone wouldn't want to date you. I just feel it’s a bit… odd.” That's the understatement of the century, “And again, this is nothing against you, but I just find it hard seeing a giant finding a human attractive.”  

Her eyes fell back to the floor. That had been something that had been in the back of her mind as well. Lately, whenever she passed by a mirror or saw her reflection, it always just made her more confused. She wasn’t hideous, but in no way was she pretty enough for someone like Garret to want to be around her rather than with… someone more like him.  

A loud ding filled the room. Rebecca pulled out her phone and groaned, “Damn it Xander.” her face was illuminated as she opened her phone and began to type.  

“What is it?” asked Maddie.  

“Oh nothing. Xander says he’s just feeling sad and wants me to send him a pic or something.”  

Maddie glanced over at Cecilia, rolling her eyes. Both of them knew by now what Xander meant when he said  ‘pic’, “Well, tell him that you’re busy.”   

“I just did.” Rebecca set her phone down and turned her attention right back onto Cecilia, “So… I know you said you’re still not sure what to make of this, but has Garret said what he makes of it?”   

She shrugged, “I mean… when he asked me to join him to grab lunch, he called it a date.” 

“And that night,” said Maddie, “Did he see that has a date as well?”   

“I-I guess so.”  

“Did you see it as a date?”   

She froze, her cheeks heating up, “I uh… maybe not in the moment, but looking back, I think so.”  

“How the hell would that even work?” Maddie chuckled, “I mean, it’s not like he can score any sex out of-”  

“Maddie!” yelped Rebecca. Cecilia went beet red, going to hide her face in her hands.  

“What?”   

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate thing to bring up right now.”   

“Oh come on, you had to be thinking about it too, right Cece?”  

“Not necessarily no” she mumbled.   

“Well, I certainly would if I was in your place. You’re wondering what his motive is, and that’s been the motive of most of the douchebags I’ve gone out with. I’m just helping eliminate possibilities.” 

Cecilia groaned, I wish Sean were here right now, why did Jaffery have to change their date night to the day before? “Can we please stop talking about this and go on to you guys asking more normal questions?”   

“This isn’t a normal situation.”  

“Can we at least pretend it is?!”    

The room fell silent. Cecilia’s hands fell away from her face. Maddie and Rebecca both were staring at her, perplexed.  

“Please?” she murmured. 

This whole thing, everything since that night at the cafe, had left her mind reeling. She didn’t even want to begin laying out everything in her mind, it was too much. Too many questions without answers. Too many new and unexpected experiences. She just wasn’t ready to sit down and analyze it all, especially with an audience.   

She jumped when she felt an arm wrap around her. Rebecca patted her shoulder, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… to get up all in your business.” she whipped her head around to look at Maddie.  

“Yeah, sorry I guess. This is just so-”  

“This all must be a lot for you, and if talking about it doesn’t help, then we won’t.”  

Cecilia looked her friend in the eye, and smiled, “Thank you.”  

Rebecca gave her shoulders a squeeze, “But we are still curious. Can we still hear about your first date or whatever it was? Like when Sean told us about meeting Jaffery?”  

She let out a short chuckle, “Yeah, I guess.”  

Maddie leaned in closer, “Oh yes, tell us everything!”  Rebecca shot her a look. She groaned, “Or whatever you feel like sharing I guess.”

Quick shout out to @ipilokko whose when helping me brainstorm ideas and as a whole helping me by being that second oppinion. You should totally go check out her comic, the artwork is quite impressive!

[nobedofroses]

October 30th

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

warnings: beginnings of smut, grinding

words: 1.5k

a/n: Prompt for today is "The power goes out on Halloween, leaving A & B to find their way to each other in the dark" from this list by @goldenroutledge. final sequel to the jackson!joel blurbs!!

Directory, previous Joel blurb, Day 29

🎃🎃🎃

The community-wide Halloween events in Jackson were over by Halloween night, but some families were doing things on their own in their houses with whatever they had managed to cobble together. Trick or treating had happened earlier in the day with homemade treats (although yours were salty and savory, not sweet as sugar was nearly nonexistent). With people needing to go on patrol, it just made more sense to do it in the early afternoon than at night. 

Ever since your kiss at the costume dance party, you and Joel had shared a few more (private) kisses and spent some evenings together at his house, talking, reading, and playing board games with Ellie. You were surprised to find out how much more casually touchy Joel was when your feelings for each other were established. His hand was always on your back, around your waist, or on your thigh if he wasn’t holding yours. It was making you a little antsy because you hadn’t done anything very sexual yet and you were… very excited to. 

On Halloween night, it was just the two of you. Ellie had plans with some of her classmates and was off with them. Tommy and Maria were on a patrol date, so you weren’t hanging out with them. It was the first time you were going to spend hours alone together at Joel’s house since you had kissed and you couldn’t tell if you were more excited or anxious. You didn’t think you had any specific plans although you were definitely hoping for something specific. 

After you ate dinner together in the canteen, you and Joel walked back to his house hand in hand and you asked, “So what do you want to do tonight?” 

“I got a couple mystery books from the library. One’s actually Halloween themed, if you’d wanna read?” Joel asked slowly. 

Even though it wasn’t the activity you were hoping for, you didn’t think a southern boy like Joel would come right out and say that you should fuck. And it’s not like you were doing so either. Plus, it was maybe the sweetest suggestion of a date that you could think of. 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you told him earnestly. 

An hour later you had read a couple chapters of the book, switching off so you each read one at a time. You enjoyed reading aloud but you maybe enjoyed listening to Joel more, his deep voice and slight twang making everything he said sound good. It was perhaps getting to you, listening to him like that, and you had to shift in your seat a couple times during the last chapter. 

When Joel noticed your movement, he thought it was because you were cold and suggested a hot drink to warm you up. You figured you might as well, to give you a little break if you were still going to have to wait longer for sex. 

“Yeah that’d be great,” you told him with a smile. 

Joel stood up, disentangling himself from you on the couch, but bent down to give you a quick kiss that left you warmer than a cup of herbal tea ever could. 

When Joel left the room, you flopped back on the couch and sighed deeply but quietly. Maybe you should just jump him when he got back with your tea. Well, after he set it down on the coffee table of course. 

You were contemplating the best course of action when suddenly the wall sconces that lit the room went out. It had only been a little bit of light but it was the only light there was, the sun having gone down a couple hours ago, so you were plunged into darkness. You waited a moment because sometimes the power flickered in Jackson, especially in the winter when everyone was using their lights more, but they didn’t come back on. 

“Um, Joel? I’m gonna come in there with you, it’s a little too dark in here for my liking,” you called out to him, standing up and walking to the kitchen. But when you got in there, he wasn’t there. All the lights were off, but the streetlights were on outside and let some light in through the windows. And other houses on the street still had lights, so that was confusing. 

“Joel?” you called out again, not liking being alone in the dark and especially not liking not knowing where he was. You couldn’t hear him and you wondered why he hadn’t told you. 

Maybe he went to check the breaker? That seemed plausible. But where the hell was the breaker box? The garage? The basement? You knew there was a utility room somewhere in the hallway, would it be in there? Since that was the only option that wasn’t going to be cold and possibly creepy, you decided the hallway was the correct place to start and walked in that direction. 

When you got to the hallway, you couldn’t see anything anymore, but you knew there were five doors. Ellie’s bedroom, Joel’s bedroom, the bathroom (at the end of the hallway), a closet, and the utility room. But you hadn’t been in any of them but the bathrooms, so were the bedrooms at the front of the hallway or at the end? You just had to try them all, you guessed. 

You walked blindly down the hall and reached for the wall to guide you. The first time you tried to touch it, you weren’t even in the hall yet and your hand just swiped through the air. So you took another couple steps forward and then felt the wall under your hand and slid it along until you found a doorway. The door was partially open, so you pushed it further and called out, “Joel? Are you in here? I can’t see a thing.” 

Stepping further into the room, you could smell him, which seemed weird because you wouldn’t think your senses would get that much better after a couple minutes in the dark. You heard his voice then, responding to you, but you couldn’t make out what he said. You kept moving forward, about to call out to him again, but instead you yelped as you started to fall. 

Joel heard your outcry and hurried after you into the room. He wasn’t sure why you had gone into his bedroom, but he could ask after he knew you were okay. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

As Joel and the light of the candle he was holding came into the room, he could see you, turned over on your back on his bed and laughing. You sat up, resting your weight on your elbows and said, “I- I didn’t know your bed was here— I f-fell,” and then dissolved into giggles again. 

Joel smiled, relieved you were okay and thinking you were really cute when you laughed. He set the candle down on his dresser and walked over, standing in front of you. “I think the power went out because I was using the stove and the heat and the lights.” 

He held out a hand to you, ready to pull you back to standing so he could get you that tea and get you warmed up. He had fixed the breaker right before you fell, so everything should be fine now, the water would be ready in a couple minutes once he turned the burner back on. 

But when you took his hand, you tugged on it instead of using it to help you stand. Joel hadn’t been expecting it and tripped forward, his free hand coming to catch his fall and landing on the mattress right next to your hip. He was just a couple inches away from you now, his knee pressed against the mattress between your legs. 

You were breathing a little harder, your chest moving with each one, and you were close enough the two of you were sharing breath. The knowledge made Joel feel heady, drew him towards you so that connection could be more tangible. 

After a second, you dropped his hand and reached up to his shoulder, tugging him towards you the last couple inches and fitting your mouth to his. Once you were kissing, Joel became just as enthusiastic as you felt, maybe more. He moved and helped move you until you were pressed against each other, his warm, strong, broad chest against yours and your hips so tight to his that your core was pressed to his thigh. 

As his tongue pressed into your mouth, you rolled your hips against his, the friction of his thigh on your clit making you moan. One of his hands came to your waist and he encouraged you to do it again and again. After a few more moans, he pulled back to kiss down your neck so he could hear you better. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moaned, threading your fingers through his hair to keep him close. Everything about him felt so good you were worried that somehow it would stop. You were determined not to let that happen and said, “How ‘bout I don’t need the tea and you just keep me warm, yeah?” 

Joel pulled back, chuckling, and even the feel of that felt good. He looked up at you and the candlelight was enough to see his warm brown eyes. “Yeah, let me keep you warm, sweetheart.”

🎃🎃🎃

[everythingisround]

info dump about raggedy ann and andy, just recently watched the show and i am in love B))

hello!! ive been in the fandom for two and a half years (almost three lol), so i know a bit about raggedy ann and andy.

so raggedy ann and andy were created in the early 20th century, the former sibling coming first with her patent in september 1915. the most popular legend surrounding her creation is that she was based off an old rag doll that belonged to creator johnny gruelle's mother/sister (can't remember exactly), who he then drew a face on and gave to his beloved daughter, marcella, who sadly would pass away months after ann's patent. marcella's inclusion in the raggedy books has been seen by many raggedy historians as johnny working through his grief by immortalizing his daughter's likeness in his stories to remember her in a positive way. andy came around in august 1920 and is said to have been created with johnny's sons, worth and richard, in mind.

the 1977 film is probably where a lot of the younger fans first became interested in raggedy ann (well, that and tadc, and even then gooseworx is a pretty big fan of the film and even specifically based jax's voice on raggedy andy from the film), although the 1986 broadway musical has also been bringing a lot of people in through tumblr and tiktok. the film, despite ultimately flopping at the box office, had the esteemed richard williams at the helm of the animation, even animating the ever so popular "no girl's toy" sequence. of course, richard williams being richard williams, went way overbudget and way past the deadline and ended up being removed from the project just so it could get released. considering the composer of the film, joe raposo, theorized that the film flopping had something to do with the first star wars movie being released around the same time, it's interesting to think about how the raggedy film's fate could've been altered if it had released the year prior for america's bicentennial. the 1986 musical is a whole other can of worms, and im still learning a lot about it from being in the RARE server (which you should definitely check out, wink wink nudge nudge), but to summarize, a combination of a development team constantly at the brink of self-destruction, constant adherence to a family-friendly atmosphere spurred by parental concerns despite the dark themes playwright william gibson intended the story to have, and too much of the budget spent on expensive special effects that nearly killed the actors led to the musical notoriously flopping on broadway and ending its run prematurely never to be seen or heard from again. or so they thought.......

although the 1986 musical is considered a failure in the united states, over in russia, the story has a small cult following amongst childrens and community theatre productions. basically, in 1985, the musical was brought to the USSR as part of a cultural exchange between the two superpowers, and considering that russians had not been familiarized with raggedy ann or her cultural impact up until this point, this led to the rag doll and her friends not being seen as cheap americana, but rather somewhat of a childrens fable (ironic, considering raggedy ann as a character was born from johnny gruelle's stories...). because of this, russian productions of rag dolly (the 1986 musical) are plentiful, with even some very recent productions popping up every now and then. it should be noted that these productions rarely contain the original songs; sometimes the story will just be played straight with no music, while other productions will substitute the lack of musical songs with their own music. this can lead to some..... interesting results lol

i feel it is also important to bring up the various other adaptations of raggedy ann, too! there's the original books, of course, but if you're an animation nerd like me, there's the 1941 fleischer short (which takes some.... interesting creative liberties from the original source material), the two noveltoons shorts, the chuck jones holiday specials from 1978 and 79, the 1980s cartoon (watch at your own risk lol), and the two snowden specials from 1998; one is just a straightforward direct-to-vhs animated special, while the second is a full ice show with animated segments dispersed throughout. you get to see raggedy elvis! who doesnt want to see raggedy elvis?

in this last section ill just toss to you a bunch of links i recommend if you wanna learn more about raggedy ann beyond the movie!

(i should also probably mention now that some books and adaptations of raggedy ann feature racial stereotypes- i know suddenly its spring has a racial caricature in terms of adaptations specifically- likely due to the culture at the time. these depictions are obviously not right, but sadly when we're talking about a franchise that has been around for over a century, it's kind of unavoidable especially in the older books, so just be aware that those depictions will come up occasionally.)

my pal brooklyn is also working on a more extensive video on raggedy ann history, so be on the lookout for that when it comes out :)

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Three: Harboring a Fugitive Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 10.3k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: Long haired Jimin, Strong language, blood, main character injured, main character beaten (not explicit), fighting, argument, near death experience, angst, fluff, backstory time, flashbacks, I’m putting PTSD on all of these because poor reader is suffering, I love Taehyung so much, I forgot how much I missed his playful attitude, brooding Jimin as always, crying, hurt/comfort, I hate Ahn, let me know if I missed anything A/N: This rewriting has been more fun than I thought it would be. I think the next chapter will have the most changes thus far, but I am still trying to keep everything as close as possible. Thanks for reading!

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I was jolted awake by a frantic pounding on the front door. My eyes cracked open, and the sting of exhaustion made them burn like hot coals. As I surveyed the room, I realized I’d been changed and cleaned, but Yoongi’s presence was conspicuously absent. Jimin, too, seemed to have vanished, though I couldn’t recall when Yoongi had arrived. Sleep was already slipping through my fingers, the relentless knocking dragging me back to wakefulness.

With a groan of protest from every muscle, I limped to the living room. Shiloh’s gentle breathing from her nest was the only sound beside the incessant banging. It struck me that she must have been utterly spent to have slept through it all. At last, I reached the door and threw it open, only to be greeted by one of the most heart-wrenching sights I’d seen in ages.

Kim Taehyung stood there, a broken mess. His hair was a tangle of knots and his body was a bruised and battered mosaic of purples and blues. I forced myself to straighten up, though my exhaustion made it a struggle. As I guided him inside, my heart shattered at the sound of his sobs.

Ahn had clearly done a number on him, and the rage that simmered beneath my surface was nearly overwhelming. But Taehyung was in no state to handle my fury. His suffering was both physical and emotional, and I needed to tend to him first. As he choked out the details of his ordeal, I listened with clenched teeth.

After we left, Ahn had dragged Taehyung into a secluded room at the palace, where the beating began. It was as if the old man believed he could pummel the boy into submission. The thought nearly made me scream. Soon, three others from the council joined in, and though some had protested, none had the courage to stand against it. Sol had been taken from him, her screams echoing in his ears.

“I’ve got your face,” I muttered, dipping back into a jar of salve. I’d already applied two jars to his face and neck. “Strip down. I need to check for infections.”

Taehyung nodded through his tears. I didn’t let myself stare too long, though it was impossible not to see the condition of his battered body. I focused on his stomach, my hands working with a rough, frustrated rhythm.

“I can’t believe this,” I grunted. “Why did you let them do this to you?”

Taehyung winced as I pressed too hard on a tender spot. “I didn’t want to fight,” he said. “I don’t want to rule with violence. Fighting and shouting… it’s uncivilized.”

I laughed, though it was devoid of humor. “So, you let them do whatever they want with you? You’d let them kill you?”

He was silent, unable to answer. 

“If you want to be taken seriously,” I said, opening another jar of salve and rubbing it into his chest, “you have to stand up for yourself. Your idea of civility doesn’t align with the old guard.”

Taehyung’s expression darkened, and he looked genuinely troubled. His naivety struck me hard, and I felt a surge of anger. If Ahn were here, I’d deal with him myself. How dare he orchestrate such cruelty? The thought of him parading around while a child suffered made my blood boil.

While I agreed with Taehyung’s ideals, the others would never accept them easily. He needed to fight if he wanted respect. Chief Ahn would never allow a different kind of leadership. My anger flared again—Kim Taehyung was far more worthy of leadership than that miserable excuse for a man. An epiphany hit me: no one else was as suited to rule Foxglove as Taehyung, with his diplomacy and kindness.

“I understand,” I said, wincing as Taehyung flinched away from my touch. “But you can’t let them push you around. Their views of manhood are archaic, and though your village knows it, fear makes people cling to the familiar. Ahn exploits that fear to boost his own ego.”

Taehyung’s gaze was inscrutable, his eyes following my every movement but revealing nothing. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully.

“I wanted to fight,” he confessed, his voice a whisper of shame. “I wanted to kill them all, but then they’d win. I’d become the man they wanted me to be, but the village would fear and resent me like they fear Ahn.”

His introspection was unexpected but not unwelcome. I’d never heard him speak with such depth before. His voice, deep and smooth like molasses, carried a melancholy tune. It was a stark contrast to his youthful charm, making me remember he’d only turned eighteen a month ago.

“Isn’t running away also letting them win?” I asked gently.

Taehyung sighed. “I had no choice. Ahn was trying to stir up enough trouble to force someone to challenge me for Sol. No one took the bait, so I managed to slip away. Jong-gyu helped me get out, and Eun-jin told our mother I was leaving.”

Taehyung’s siblings always seemed to feature in his stories, and their importance to him was clear. Jong-gyu, only eleven, and Eun-jin, just six, were his little anchors. The thought of them plotting an escape for their eldest brother was heartbreaking.

I wiped my hands on my nightgown and stood up. Taehyung was smeared in salve, and the bruises were already fading. His ribs would need more time, so I headed to the kitchen, searching for a healing potion. I didn’t have the energy to make one from scratch at this hour.

“Why did you come here?” I asked softly.

Taehyung sighed. “Because I knew you’d help me.”

The pity I felt for him returned with a vengeance. Imagining him hurt and abandoned, unable to trust anyone else, made my heart ache. I found an old potion in the back of a cupboard, checked its scent, and decided it was still good.

“You can stay as long as you need,” I said, handing him the potion. “Sol is my friend, and I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”

Taehyung seemed relieved. He drank the potion, curled up on the couch, and was asleep almost immediately. The sight of him, so utterly exhausted, made me stifle a laugh. I began extinguishing the candles and tidying up the used salves. I’d need to prepare more soon.

Exhausted and still recovering from the ceremony, I dragged myself back to bed. Shiloh was waiting for me, her feathers ruffled in disapproval.

“How many times do I have to tell you to take your bedrest seriously?” she chided.

I groaned and collapsed into my bed. It was warm and inviting. Shiloh flapped to her nest, feathers drifting onto my sheets, but I ignored them. I was used to the constant cleaning by now.

“It was Taehyung,” I protested weakly.

“I don’t care if it was Fenrir himself at the door, you need to stay in bed—”

“Shiloh,” I warned, “Swîgian âstillian.”

The owl grumbled, but I was too far gone to listen.

The pounding at my front door was relentless, dragging me from a restless sleep. Groggy and stiff, I rolled over with a groan, my body protesting every move. Outside, a cacophony of angry voices pierced the morning quiet, and among them, someone was calling for Taehyung. That was the spark that ignited my fury. Furious and aching, I summoned my magic to lift myself out of bed and threw on my robe.

Taehyung was curled up in a tight ball in front of the sofa, barely stirring as I stormed past him to the door. Shiloh’s frantic screeches filled the air, demanding I retreat back to bed and let the wolves handle their own mess. But when their politics come knocking at my door, I had every right to give them a piece of my mind.

With a deep breath to steady my rage, I squared my shoulders and thrust my arms forward. The front door exploded off its hinges and crashed into whoever was standing behind it. Namjoon barely flinched as he shoved the door aside with a practiced swipe, his eyes wide with shock. But I wasn’t finished. I began to sing, a storm of objects swirling around the room in a chaotic dance. Namjoon staggered back, but this only fueled my anger further. Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos as a fierce blue flame erupted from my palm and hurtled towards the wolf.

“Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow?” I roared, the magic dissipating as my singing ceased. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Hoseok and Jimin flanked their brother, their expressions a mix of concern and annoyance. I knew I’d regret attacking them eventually, probably the moment they left, but in this moment, I couldn’t bring myself to back down. No one was going to come here and intimidate me. The rational part of my brain screamed for me to stop, breathe, and listen, but the louder, angrier voice wanted to shatter them all. Taehyung had been battered and bleeding last night, and yet none of these so-called protectors had lifted a finger to help.

“Bridd—” Hoseok began.

I cut him off, my gaze locked on Namjoon. He stared at the ashen spot where the flames had struck, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. My anger burned hotter, and I felt a fresh wave of pain in my back—clearly, I had overextended myself with the magic. My body was struggling to heal, blood seeping from old wounds.

“Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes?” I roared, my eyes blazing. “Sol chose him. The Gods chose him! Do you think you’re somehow superior to them now? Are you so blinded by your precious Chief’s biases that you’d let this happen?”

Namjoon swallowed hard, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Of course not. I—”

“You listen to me,” I sneered, cutting him off. “If you ever have the audacity to come banging on my door again, I swear, I will not show you the same mercy.”

Namjoon stammered, unable to form a coherent response. I could feel my strength waning, the red haze in my vision receding. Shiloh’s persistent shouts to come inside and let Taehyung handle things himself were drowned out by my determination. No one else was here to protect him if things turned violent, and I’d never forgive myself for leaving him exposed. I stood tall, though my stance was more relaxed now, my anger still simmering beneath the surface.

“We’re here to speak with Taehyung,” Hoseok pleaded. “We have no intention of fighting with you or him. Namjoon needs to deliver a message.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Taehyung’s voice cut through the din. 

“I’m fine, Bridd,” he said, his tone calm but wary. He stayed behind me, peering cautiously at the intruders. “What’s the word?”

“Don’t be angry with me, cousin,” Namjoon began, stepping forward.

I instinctively moved to defend Taehyung, taking up a protective stance. Namjoon halted, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender while Hoseok stood beside him, and Jimin remained still, his gaze fixed on me with an unreadable expression. If I was thinking clearly, I might understand his wary posture, but in my agitated state, it only stung.

“I have challenged you,” Namjoon said, and all thoughts of Jimin vanished.

“Quare?” Taehyung’s voice was thick with disbelief and hurt. “What have I ever done to you?”

Namjoon’s expression softened, but I readied myself to protect Taehyung at all costs. No one was going to harm him—not while I had breath in my body. Sol was my friend, and I wouldn’t let anyone, especially not someone like Ahn, destroy their lives. I knew Namjoon well enough to anticipate his attempts to play both sides for peace, a trait I despised.

“So no one else would,” Namjoon said, trying to convince Taehyung. “We’re trying to buy time to come up with a plan. I swear, I have no intention of fighting you.”

“Putasne me stultum esse?” Taehyung hissed, his body radiating heat. “You’re trying to take Sol from me!”

Namjoon’s face went pale. I felt a surge of pride for Taehyung, agreeing with his rage. Namjoon’s arrogance, coupled with his obsession with Sol, made it hard to believe that the challenge was solely for Taehyung’s benefit. The other two wolves’ skeptical expressions confirmed my doubts.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Taehyung,” Namjoon pleaded, his agitation growing. “I mean what I say, even if you’re too dense to understand it.”

Taehyung growled, and I had to steady my racing heart. I needed to shield him inside. Namjoon could leave, and I would be exposed to the sun if he chose to exploit that. Still, I held my defensive posture. Taehyung was done talking, and both Hoseok and Namjoon waited for his next move.

Suddenly, Shiloh burst out of the house with a loud screech. The chaos unfolded in a flash. Shiloh lunged at Namjoon, who transformed into a wolf mid-air. Taehyung’s massive frame surged forward, and before I could react, I was thrust into the sunlight. My face slammed against the front steps, and the sun’s rays seared my back. Pain shot through my ankle as metal cut into my skin.

My skin felt like it was on fire. Screams erupted uncontrollably from my throat as I struggled to focus on Shiloh. I saw her turning towards me just as a large, russet wolf nudged her aside. Hands grabbed me, pulling me back inside. My body trembled with pain, my vision filled with white as I screamed. All around me, voices clashed, but the pain consumed me.

“Quid irrumabo facimus?” Hoseok shouted.

“Nescio,” Taehyung’s voice sounded choked with tears.

My eyes rolled back, the agony overwhelming my senses. The ceiling came into view as I raised a trembling hand. Black feathers had pierced through my skin, and I cried out in fresh distress.

“Recedite ab ea!” someone screamed, but the words were indistinguishable.

“Licuitne futura est?”

Something was happening nearby, but all I could focus on was the searing fire inside me. I knew the pain would eventually subside, but I needed something to help ease it. My mouth opened to speak, but only screams escaped.

“It burns,” I managed to grunt through the convulsions.

Hands touched me, but my vision blurred. Sleep was impossible, and my body was in its worst state yet. Between the ceremony, the magic use, and the sun exposure, I’d be out of commission for a week—or more.

“Move,” Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos.

Through my half-opened eyes, I saw not an owl but a radiant woman standing before me. Her fiery hair shimmered like it was underwater, and her skin glowed with a diamond-like brilliance. She looked like an ethereal vision, and I reached out to her. Her tears sparkled as she gently touched my hand.

“Slêpte,” she whispered, her fingers brushing my arm.

A wave of relief washed over me, and I sighed deeply. I closed my eyes, curling up next to Shiloh. Exhaustion hit me all at once, and I could hear growls and frantic voices, but they were far away. Someone was crying, but I was too tired to identify who it was.

“I’m going to put you to bed,” the woman whispered softly. “Where you belong.”

When I finally dragged myself back to consciousness, the smell of cooking food was like a beacon in a fog of confusion. I was back in my bed, with memories of the night before slipping through my fingers like sand. Shiloh had been there in her spirit form—so ethereal, so beautiful I imagined her future self would be just as mesmerizing. With a groan, I forced myself upright, my body protesting with every movement. No one would harm Taehyung while I still drew breath, and I clung to the hope that he was safe and sound somewhere in my house.

Stumbling into the kitchen, I grabbed the door frame for support. The stove was ablaze, a pot bubbling away on top, filling the room with the rich, smoky aroma of applewood. The kitchen sparkled, cleaner than it had ever been, as if someone had swept away not just dirt but the very chaos of my life. The scent of lemon mingled with the sharp tang of onions, a strange comfort in the midst of this turmoil.

“You should be in bed.”

The voice, coming out of nowhere, made me jump. I whipped around to find Jimin sprawled in my recliner, looking unusually somber. Taehyung stood by the fireplace, his gaze fixed on me with a mix of concern and something else I couldn’t quite place. Hoseok and Namjoon were absent, and my heart sank at the lack of familiar presence.

“Where’s Shiloh?” I demanded, stumbling forward and clutching the kitchen island.

Taehyung was at my side in an instant, his touch gentle but insistent. “Please, don’t push yourself, Bridd,” he said softly, guiding me to the small loveseat.

Jimin, ever the thoughtful one, draped a blanket over me as if I were a child. He must have been busy while I slept, rummaging through my things. Glancing at my hands, I saw the feathers had been replaced by jagged scars, a cruel reminder of the price I’d paid. My heart sank at the sight, a pang of sorrow tightening in my chest. Jimin’s hand covered mine, offering a silent comfort.

“She stepped out for a while,” Jimin said, his voice rough, like he’d been yelling. 

I remembered my anger towards him and Namjoon, but now it seemed distant, irrelevant. Seeing Jimin’s weary face, I knew he’d been affected deeply by the events. He was no longer the faceless alpha from my anger-fueled memories but someone I felt genuine empathy for. Taehyung’s presence, however, still rankled. Namjoon’s arrogance had hurt him deeply, and no matter his intentions, the challenge he issued had only made things worse.

“Is everyone alright?” I asked, trying to focus on the present.

Jimin shrugged, “Everyone but you. Namjoon and I had a disagreement before he left, but he’ll be fine.”

I scowled at Jimin. “I don’t like the idea of you fighting.”

Jimin’s grin was faint but reassuring. “Don’t worry, amica. I won.”

“Doesn’t change my feelings.” I grumbled, turning to look at Taehyung. His face was a mask of confusion, his eyes betraying an inner turmoil. The fleeting glances he shot between Jimin and me hinted at a struggle to make sense of it all. He winked at me, and I looked away, wondering if he’d caught onto my feelings.

Was it possible he had seen more than I intended? I knew Taehyung was perceptive, his mischievous nature hiding a sharp awareness. But right now, I was too exhausted to dwell on it. Jimin’s presence was a balm to my troubled mind.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay here until Taehyung decides what to do,” Jimin said, surprising me.

“What for?” I asked.

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Taehyung interjected. “I didn’t realize you were so close, and I was overwhelmed.”

I shook my head, dismissing his apology. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung scoffed. “You’re covered in scars because of my actions, and now my cousin is angry with all of us because of the fight. Hoseok said it’s best if we stay away from the village for a while. We can’t go back home.”

This news didn’t surprise me. I had no intention of letting Taehyung leave my cottage anytime soon, but Jimin’s exile was either a self-imposed punishment or Hoseok’s attempt to cool Namjoon’s temper. It made sense—challenging Taehyung was hardly a diplomatic move. 

Jimin suddenly produced a letter from his pocket, catching me off guard. “I found the letter your friend sent you.”

A spark of recognition flickered. “Wendy!” I exclaimed.

Jimin looked almost bashful, his discomfort evident. I tugged my arm free and hurried to my coat rack, desperate to retrieve the letter. But before I could make it, Taehyung’s arms encircled me.

“Taehyung, let me go,” I demanded, struggling against his hold.

“Sit. You’re hurt,” he pleaded, guiding me back to the sofa.

Frustrated, I bit his arm, causing him to yelp and release me. I landed on the floor with a thud, glaring up at him.

“This is ridiculous,” I complained. “You come into my home, rifle through my belongings, and now you won’t let me read my own letter? She’s my friend! If it’s important, I need to know.”

Jimin sighed, frustration etched into his features. “If you’d had a bit more patience, I could have handed it to you. It’s in my pocket.”

“If you’d just said that instead of staring at me like I’m an idiot—” I retorted, hobbling back to the sofa and grabbing the letter from his hands. “—I wouldn’t have gotten up.”

Jimin’s glare was sharp but silent. I settled into my spot, Taehyung’s weary gaze fixed on me. The need to apologize for my earlier actions was there, but I fought it. He had overstepped, and I had reacted. Still, the urge to make amends lingered.

The letter from Wendy was a balm to my troubled thoughts. Her words painted a picture of her own struggles, and as I read, my heart sank. She was thinking about not coming back hom after her sister’s wedding. She didn’t think Jin would take her back and that she had ruined his and Yoongi’s friendship. Shiloh must have gone to find her after reading the letter. I mentally thanked her and began to draft a reply.

Wendy, darling,

I’m relieved to hear from you. The events here in Bangtan have been tumultuous, and I’ve hardly had a moment to breathe. The ceremony has left me weary, and I hope you can help me unwind once you return. 

Forget the fools who have caused you distress. Remember the things that truly matter: your mother, the sisterhood, the coven, and the forest. No one else can tame a magindara or purify the sea like you. Don’t let trivial matters deter you from enjoying life. I’m thrilled about Nixie’s engagement and wish I could be there with her.

But life has charted a different course for both of us. I’m scared, Wendy—every day brings new fears—but I embrace it all, the sunshine, the flowers, the wind. As Aldara said, “Fear reminds us that we’re alive.” So, don’t give up just yet. Keep swimming and return home. Talk to Seokjin; he will understand. Yoongi holds no ill will. Release your fantasies and root yourself in reality.

We’ve all made mistakes, but we can mend our friendships if nothing else. If you truly wish to be with Jin, then go for it. He has long pursued you while you focused elsewhere. I want our circle whole again, with everyone finding their happiness. So go ahead. Even if I’m afraid, you need not be.

Missing you dearly,

B

I watched as the letter dried, my body easing into a more bearable state. With renewed energy, I rummaged for an envelope. Shiloh would usually handle sending things, but I was alone in this. Grabbing my ceremonial bag, I sifted through it until I found my meteor powder. Taking a deep breath, I began sketching Wendy’s face. My hand moved with practiced ease, though my heart pounded with anxiety. 

With a final incantation, I threw the powder onto the parchment. The paper vanished in an instant. I mumbled a hope that it reached her safely.

“That was so cool!” Taehyung’s voice broke my reverie.

I chuckled. “Not as cool as my own magic, but it will have to do. I can hardly feel anything in my body.”

Returning to the couch, I curled up beside Jimin. He looked worried, a sentiment I hadn’t expected from him. I had probably done more harm than good with my earlier actions, but for now, I would let it be. 

“She seemed upset,” Jimin said, his voice laced with concern. “I hadn’t realized your friends were involved in this way.”

I was taken aback by his empathy. “It’s been a thing since we were children. Don’t worry too much; she’ll come back, and they’ll figure it out.”

“Why aren’t they together now?” Taehyung asked.

“Because,” I sighed, “they don’t truly know what they want.”

Jimin served us a bowl of cabbage stew, plain but comforting. As I ate, I drifted into a restless sleep on the small couch, the unsettling dream I woke from fading as Jimin gently returned me to bed. I didn’t wake again until after sunset, finding solace in the quiet as the world outside continued its chaotic spin.

Taehyung was a surprising guest. He took care of the space, cleaned up after himself, and was generally a delight to have around. He was like a new breed of house guest, one who didn’t leave a trail of destruction in his wake. The supplies I had been sending to Foxglove had stopped—something Taehyung and Jimin didn't quite agree with, but that was their problem. They didn’t deserve my help if they were going to squander it. No one had come for anything lately, leading me to believe they were either boycotting my services or simply too intimidated by the presence of the wolves to make an appearance.

Wendy’s letter arrived the next morning, confirming she was on her way back. She’d even written to Jin, though I could only guess what she had said. Seokjin was notorious for spilling secrets, so I expected to hear all about it sooner or later.

I took a deep breath, opening my eyes to the sight of my altar. My magic had returned a few days ago, but I’d let it rest. Today was the first time I’d performed a ritual spell in days. I glanced over my shoulder, offering a soft smile to Jimin, who was napping on my sofa.

Our conversations since that night had been sparse, but Jimin was doing his best to help Taehyung devise a plan to win over the town. I thought it was a foolish endeavor, but I supported it nonetheless. Jimin’s reputation in the community was invaluable, and having him on Taehyung’s side significantly boosted his chances. I knew the pack missed both of them, and I hoped Namjoon would make an appearance soon. We had much to discuss, and I wanted to apologize for my loud outburst. No matter what anyone else said, I took much of the blame for that disastrous encounter.

“What’s a cah-dee-jo?” Taehyung’s voice cut through my thoughts, loud and inquisitive.

“A cadejo,” I corrected, rolling my eyes, “are spirits that guide worthy travelers.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And if they’re not worthy?”

“They’ll eat them,” I replied with an ease that bordered on nonchalance.

Taehyung had taken a keen interest in my books after discovering something I’d written about the magindara as a child. He devoured them so quickly that I found myself fetching more from the cellar just to keep up. Despite his naivety, Taehyung was a bright young man with an insatiable curiosity. He never settled for a single answer and listened with rapt attention.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why not?”

Taehyung fell silent, returning to his reading. I found myself growing fond of him, wishing he could go back home. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings tugged at my heart. His parents must be in a constant state of worry.

After spending most of the morning sitting, I decided to make lunch. Shiloh was due back later that day. Wendy had mentioned that my familiar had arrived at her inn just before sending the letter, so I knew Shiloh was safe. Thinking about her stirred a mix of emotions in me. Exposing her spirit form was a dangerous risk, one I’d never have asked of her, but she had done it anyway.

I approached the kitchen window, whistling loudly as I began pulling out a pot and pan. Tomato soup seemed like the perfect choice, and I could whip up a quick loaf of bread to go with it. Moments later, Delinah appeared at my window. I glanced up from dicing onions, smiling at the deer.

“Morning, Dee,” I greeted.

She dipped her head. “Glad to see you up and about. You gave us all quite a scare.”

I hummed in response, tossing the onions into the pot along with three heads of garlic, some fresh herbs, and a splash of oil. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jimin stirring on the sofa.

“I’m as good as new,” I joked, using a spell to light the stove. “Would you mind fetching some tomatoes from Seokjin’s garden? I’d ask Shiloh, but she’s out of the forest for the day.”

“Where did she go?” Delinah asked, tugging the cloth tote from the windowsill with her mouth.

“Northorn,” I replied.

“Northorn? What’s so important in that dreadful place?”

I laughed, helping her secure the tote around her neck. Delinah nuzzled my hands, and I promised her carrots upon her return.

“To answer your question,” I said, returning to the counter, “Wendy’s trying to run away, so Shiloh’s bringing her back.”

Delinah laughed, “Oh, that Wendy Byrd. She’s a wild card, that one.”

“But we love her.”

Jimin got up as soon as Delinah left, and Taehyung remained engrossed in my book about magical beasts. I took over the task of roasting onions and garlic, letting them caramelize over the open flame. The tomatoes would soon follow. I could hear the two men conversing quietly, but I chose to ignore them. Privacy in this house was a rare luxury.

Delinah returned swiftly, and I sent her off with a bundle of carrots. After roasting the tomatoes, I used my pestle and mortar to blend everything into a smooth puree before adding it to the pot.

“Bridd,” Taehyung called out. “Can I get your opinion on something?”

I nodded. “Ask away.”

“I want to write a letter to Namjoon, but I’m unsure how he’d take it.”

I paused, contemplating. A letter might not help much. Ahn and his tricks made it unlikely that any letter would reach Namjoon. With people actively looking for him, showing his face might only stir up more trouble. Namjoon’s challenge was official, and only revoking it would end the conflict. I had faith in Taehyung’s ability to defend himself if necessary, though his reluctance to fight was apparent. Namjoon’s determination was formidable, but I doubted it would come to a lethal confrontation.

“I don’t think it would help much,” I said. “You know Ahn’s methods. A letter might not even get through.”

Taehyung sighed in defeat, and I felt a pang of sympathy. I understood his predicament all too well. I remembered Aldara’s lessons in defensive magic, though I had never been able to strike her. It wasn’t until that fateful night that I realized my potential for harm. I shuddered at the thought, wishing no one, especially Taehyung, had to face such a fate.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I said, mixing the soup.

“Me too,” Taehyung replied.

We ate lunch in silence. Jimin was unusually quiet, his mind clearly occupied. Being away from his pack for three days must have been weighing on him. Wolves were creatures of family, and the silence must have been particularly hard for him.

Taehyung didn’t ask anything more after that. He spent the rest of the day sprawled on the floor by the fireplace, devouring book after book, while Jimin gazed out of the windows and scribbled in a journal. They stayed inside, avoiding the outdoors. I managed to complete a few chores, practice some new spells, and jot down notes in my grimoire. The atmosphere was stifling, and it wasn’t until Shiloh returned at sunset that the house stirred with activity.

In a flurry of feathers and screeches, the barn owl flew through my bedroom window, her voice echoing off the walls. I hastily threw my pen onto my grimoire, the black ink smearing across the pages in a ruinous streak. I didn’t care; Shiloh was back, and that was enough.

“Between those wolves and you witches,” she complained, “I’ll never catch a break.”

“Oh, Shiloh,” I cooed, opening my arms to her.

My familiar dove into my embrace, letting herself be fussed over. I petted her head, smoothing down her feathers. She leaned into my touches, and I couldn’t recall the last time I had smiled so broadly.

“You’re so strong and mighty, little one. I missed you dearly.”

She laughed, “I’m glad to see you up and moving again.”

“Where’s Wendy?” I asked, releasing her from my hug.

Shiloh flew into the kitchen, and I followed. She pecked at the leftover bread from lunch and took note of the wolves still lounging in the living room. She seemed pleased they were still there and gave a nod of approval to Taehyung. I chuckled at her antics.

“She’ll be back after her sister’s wedding.”

“Oh, wonderful!” I clapped my hands together in delight.

“Another pain in my ass,” Shiloh muttered.

And I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Transformation was always an adjustment. Even now, after all this time, I still felt disoriented by the process. On Taehyung’s first night here, he nearly broke down my bedroom door in his panic to check on me. If Jimin hadn’t reassured him, I was sure Taehyung would have been deeply traumatized. Tonight was the fourth night, and Taehyung slept soundly through my night terrors. Shiloh had gone to bed early, leaving Jimin as the only one awake when I flew in through the kitchen window.

He wore the same clothes he had for days—something I had hand-washed twice but he refused to part with. I had made clothes for Taehyung, but Jimin’s

 rejection of them stung. I never brought it up again, simply washing and magically drying them. Tonight, Jimin had removed his usual long cape, his socks and shoes were missing, and his belt was nowhere to be seen. His hair fell loose, cascading to his waist, and a simple headband kept his bangs out of his eyes. He sat at the kitchen island, engrossed in whatever he was writing.

“Hello,” he greeted, offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He looked worn out, more so than usual, and Taehyung snored loudly on the floor, rolling over without a care. Jimin continued to scribble on the papers, unperturbed. I hopped closer and peered at the writing, recognizing the familiar scrawl.

It was the paper I had used during my visit a few weeks ago. Seeing it brought a wave of emotions, my heart swelling with affection. The fact that he had kept it, carried it around, left me breathless.

I’m feeling better.

Not if it’s something you like.

I love blueberries.

You did nothing wrong, Alpha. I promise.

“It brings me comfort,” Jimin whispered, his voice trembling in the dim moonlight. “Knowing that you’re out there.”

I turned toward him and saw the tears streaming down his face, illuminated by the pale, ethereal glow of the moon. For the first time since I’d known him, there was a clarity in my own heart. I fluttered my wings and landed softly in his lap, pressing my face against his stomach. The warmth within me radiated, and I could feel the tension in his body slowly dissolve.

He clutched me tightly, his sobs coming in ragged gasps. What sorrow gnawed at him, I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was clear it had something to do with the turmoil around us. I melted into his embrace, his openness a balm to my weary spirit. I found myself yearning for him to hold me as a lover would, but I pushed the thought aside. Greed felt like a bitter pill to swallow, especially when it came to the emotional exchange I saw before me.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I understand them both, know that neither of them are happy with the way they left things, but I can’t do anything about it. I don’t want to leave Taehyung, but I don’t want to watch my friends tear each other apart over a misunderstanding.”

And oh, how angry I was with Namjoon, how much I wanted to slam him against a wall and scream until my lungs bled. But the truth was, I didn’t wish him dead. We were friends, after all, even if it was a strained, bloody friendship. The alpha allowed himself only two minutes of tears before he wiped his face and set me gently back on the island. He apologized profusely, his voice hoarse and filled with regret before he left the cottage, seeking the solace of the night.

I wanted to follow him, but I knew he needed his space. I glanced at the letter at my feet, feeling a shift in my resolve. What if a letter was considered offensive? They had beaten Taehyung senseless, exiled him, and made his family think he needed to be challenged to keep the pack in line. If a simple letter was the spark that ignited their fury, then I was ready to be the villain. I knew the chances of someone else intercepting Namjoon’s letter were high, but I had to try. I couldn’t bear to see Jimin’s tears again. 

Resolute, I gathered paper and ink, and began to write.

“Y/N,” Auntie whispered, her fingers tangling gently in my hair.

The sun was just a whisper on the horizon, the sky still a deep shade of purple. I struggled to pry my eyes open, moaning as I rubbed my face. Another yawn escaped me, my eyes fluttering shut once more.

Aldara chuckled softly, “Wake up, sleepyhead. Let’s make breakfast together.”

I shook my head, flipping over the pancake on the stove. In the dining room, Taehyung, Jimin, and the witches discussed the best fishing spots in Bangtan. Seokjin and Yoongi had dropped by unannounced, and while I was puzzled by their sudden visit, I assumed it had something to do with Wendy. Jin looked surprised by the presence of the wolves and asked to speak with me privately once breakfast was over. I heard Taehyung questioning whether vegan pancakes could taste good, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I had adopted a vegetarian diet after Aldara passed. With the inability to leave my home, meat became a distant memory. Four years ago, after growing closer with the critters around me, I’d eliminated animal products entirely. It felt wrong to consume a creature I could have known.

“They’re not that different from ‘normal’ ones,” I explained, plating the fresh pancake. “I just use oat flour, bananas, and flaxseeds mixed with water. Everything else is the same.”

I could imagine Taehyung’s disgusted face, though it was hidden from view. His expressions of confusion, disgust, and anger were all shades of the same emotion. Yoongi laughed, and it brought a smile to my face. Yoongi and I shared similar lifestyle choices, though he indulged in fish with Seokjin from time to time.

“Why mix flaxseeds and water?” Taehyung asked, his bewilderment dripping from every word.

I handed him a plate, “It replaces the egg. You mix it with the banana and let it sit to thicken. A boy named Enver taught me. He lives in Moland and doesn’t have regular market access.”

Jimin’s curiosity perked up, “How do you get your supplies?”

“I go often,” Seokjin answered. “I always pick up things for Yoongi and Y/N when I go. Yoongi does the same.”

I nodded, “I have great friends.”

After breakfast, Yoongi invited Taehyung and Jimin for a walk in the forest. Taehyung’s newfound fascination with the local beings had piqued Yoongi’s interest, and he offered to show him a jackalope borough nearby. Jimin chose to join them to keep an eye on Taehyung. I could tell he was giving Seokjin and me the space to talk. As they left, I began clearing the dishes with Jin’s help.

We worked in silence, the rhythm of our tasks speaking volumes. Jin’s hesitation was palpable, a strange thing for someone so usually forthright. His mouth opened and closed as if he was trying to find the right words, but I remained patient. Wendy had a knack for throwing him off balance, and it was evident in his struggle to articulate his thoughts. 

Once the dishes were done, I wiped down the table and put away the toppings. Jin lingered, focusing on the dishes while I finished. Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence.

“Wendy wrote to me,” he said quietly.

I hummed, not quite ready to delve into the contents of her letter. Privacy was paramount, and I kept many things to myself. We were all too intertwined, and Wendy’s tendency to overshare made things complicated. Seokjin’s habit of spilling secrets didn’t help either. 

“She said she wants to be with me,” he continued.

I sighed, “How do you feel about that?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking lost. “It’s… complicated.”

I perched on the kitchen island, nodding, “I’m sure I can keep up.”

“For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve liked her in some way,” Jin said, his voice tinged with regret. “She’s never really felt the same about me, at least not as much as I liked her.”

Wendy had always looked away, said one thing and done another, never fully opening her heart to Jin. She admitted liking him, but her gaze often wandered to Yoongi. Initially, I thought Seokjin was reading too much into it, but the pattern was clear. Wendy’s infatuation with Yoongi had always overshadowed her relationships with others, including Jin. 

“I knew she meant it when she said she liked me,” he said. “But how can I be sure she’s serious this time? She’s been away, hasn’t seen anyone in months, and now she says she’s in love with me. What happens when she sees Yoongi again? Will her feelings still hold?”

I felt a pang of sympathy for Seokjin. His heart was true, but his seclusion had left him vulnerable. The world outside Bangtan was vast and filled with possibilities. Telling him there were other options wouldn’t help, though. 

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” he whispered.

“I know,” I replied, holding him gently. “I wouldn’t want that either.”

“How can I trust her words?”

I shook my head, “I’ve always seen you two as stubborn. You care deeply, but the toxicity is unbearable. If you want to try, see what happens. Maybe her time away or seeing her sister’s wedding changed her. Think about what she said and how it resonates with your own feelings.”

“She said she loves me,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice. “She said that after talking to you, she felt more confident to speak to me. It was the first time I felt her apology was genuine.”

Silence enveloped us as Seokjin looked down, deep in thought. After a moment, he asked to borrow paper and a pen. I obliged, hoping for a resolution that would bring him some peace. 

He sent off his letter soon after. I resumed sweeping and planning the day, knowing I had to address the supply chain blockage to the sea coven. With Shiloh still recovering from her trip, I would need to wake her for the delivery. Seokjin agreed to write to Cordelia to see if anyone could pick up the supplies. 

In the rare moment of quiet, I could sense Seokjin’s anxiety. I feared the worst but gave him the space he needed. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked.

“I rejected her,” he said.

“Oh, Jinnie,” I cooed, embracing him. “That was a hard choice, but I’m proud of you. You did what was right for yourself.”

“I can’t do it again,” he sobbed. “I just can’t.”

I understood his pain. Wendy’s emotions would simmer, and I’d deal with her later. Seokjin had alluded to remaining friends, but I knew it was a fragile hope. The past had carved deep scars, and I wasn’t naïve enough to believe things could return to how they once were. Still, I hoped for growth and reconciliation, even if it seemed unlikely. 

“I know. I know,” I whispered, soothing him. “We’ll get through this.”

Seokjin clung to me, crying as if his heart would break.

For the next three days, Jimin and Taehyung began to drift further from the confines of the house, venturing into the outside world with an almost frantic urgency. I hadn't heard a word from Wendy or Seokjin, but Yoongi made sure to check in daily. He was obsessed with the idea that I might be facing another unexpected encounter with the wolves, a notion I couldn't entirely dismiss but was resolutely prepared for. It felt as if Hoseok was staying clear to maintain some uneasy peace, though Jimin hinted that he was trying to sway Namjoon. So far, that attempt had fizzled, with Namjoon remaining as grumpy and resentful as ever. Taehyung, on the other hand, was steeling himself for a potential clash, spending his evenings in intense sparring sessions with Jimin.

Shiloh's waking hours had been creeping earlier each day. It wasn't the ungodly hours I was accustomed to, but noon was a far cry from eleven at night. Taehyung and Jimin were still grappling with my late risings. My magic, potent yet taxing, was stretching my limits, and I could sense my body struggling to keep up. My childhood had taught me that magic was a draining force, especially defensive spells. The incident with Namjoon had thrown me off balance, making it difficult to regain my footing.

Aldara used to fret over my fainting spells after our lessons. She said it was unnatural for a witch to be so overwhelmed by their own power, but over the years, I’d come to understand that my magic was an endless well, ever-flowing and never entirely under my control. Unlike other witches, who could regulate their magic output, I was left perpetually vulnerable and weakened. The constant possession and lack of control were the harsh trade-offs of my power. Still, a small outburst no longer left me as depleted as it once did. The last time I’d fainted from magic was the night I discovered the cottage on fire.

As I thumbed through my grimoire, searching for the potion I’d made to reduce anxiety, frustration gnawed at me. Wendy was due back tomorrow, and Cordelia had asked if I could send some to Syrena. I’d only brewed this particular potion twice, and it was still too fresh in my memory for me to recall the exact details. Wendy’s luck would have it that I’d send a shifting potion instead of a mood stabilizer, but I trusted Griselda’s recipe.

My worry for Wendy was growing. Though it was normal to go weeks without communication, I feared she might be upset over the situation with Jin. She must have suspected we’d talked and perhaps thought I’d instructed him on what to do. Or worse, she might have convinced herself that Yoongi had something to do with it. Wendy had a tendency to skew reality, and while I empathized with her, I refused to choose sides between my friends. I loved and respected them both and wished desperately to extricate myself from this web of conflict. After all, Wendy was the one who’d divulged our conversation to Jin in the first place.

My search for the potion left me exasperated. The cluttered chaos of my notes and haphazard scrawl made me wish for a clean slate. Whoever would inherit this mess of a grimoire would need a Rosetta Stone just to decipher half of it. In frustration, I slammed the book shut and decided to write to Enver. He was the only witch I knew who might have such a potion on hand. Rolling the paper carefully, I chanted a spell I’d learned from Pippa’s grimoire and watched as the paper turned to ash and vanished.

Pippa was a true oddball, her methods unorthodox to the point of absurdity. Her spellbooks, filled with incomprehensible diagrams and bizarre ingredients, were a testament to her brilliance. Aldara had always teased me about my fascination with Pippa, calling me the next “nutcase” and mocking my own disorganized grimoire. Still, no one could deny Pippa’s talent. The spell I’d used was a favorite of mine—simple, minimal energy expenditure, and highly effective. I was grateful to be done with meteor powder, even if I had invented that one myself.

The front door slammed open, jolting me upright and sending my heart into a racing frenzy. For a split second, my vision swam in black and white, but I quickly regained my composure. I shot a venomous glare at Taehyung as he swaggered into the cottage, followed closely by Jimin, who offered a sheepish bow before entering.

“It’s such a beautiful day!” Taehyung announced, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic flourish.

My eye twitched.

“Try that again,” I said with icy detachment.

Taehyung’s confusion was palpable. Jimin stood in the doorway, an amused smirk playing on his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his gaze lingering on me. I struggled to keep my eyes from lingering on his toned back and refocused on Taehyung.

“Try what again?” Taehyung asked, genuinely bewildered.

“Walking into my house like a civilized person,” I retorted. “You act as if you’ve never been taught manners. First, you put your filthy, muddy boots on my counter, and now this? Thin ice, Tae. Thin ice.”

Taehyung scratched his head sheepishly and made the necessary adjustments, gently opening and closing the door. Satisfied, I hummed and returned to my grimoire, mentally cursing the disorganized mess it had become. I longed to slap the younger version of myself who had thought this system would work. Groaning, I stood up and decided to relocate my work to the cellar.

“What are you looking for?” Taehyung asked, his face lighting up with curiosity.

The wolf enjoyed accompanying me and peering over my shoulder, even if he barely understood the Latin script. Jimin hadn’t asked to join but I suspected his silence was his way of being considerate. I wished he would just speak up.

“I need to find a spell for a friend,” I said. “One I wrote when I was twelve. It’s hardly legible now, a testament to my childish carelessness.”

Taehyung laughed and followed me without hesitation. His curiosity was endearing, a stark contrast to Jimin’s restrained demeanor. I wondered about their own childhoods—Jimin had been brave and reserved when we first met, his innocence a distant memory now. Seeing him again, after all these years, was like rediscovering a forgotten chapter of my own life.

“May I join you?”

I paused and looked up at Jimin, who had already begun descending the stairs behind Taehyung. I nodded. The connection we had shared the other night was still fresh, unspoken but undeniable. Jimin’s presence felt like a gentle thawing of the ice that had previously encased him.

After lighting the sconces in the cellar, I found Taehyung curled up in a corner, absorbed in one of Aldara’s monster books. She had been a legend in her own right— the first to defeat a Quietus, the monster slayer of yore. Her stories had become folklore, tales of bravery and struggle. The book Taehyung was engrossed in was one of her own, a collection of short stories about her adventures.

“It’s bigger than I thought,” Jimin whispered.

“It grows whenever we need a new bookcase,” I replied.

Jimin didn’t press for more details, his restraint a byproduct of the alpha etiquette he’d been taught. Taehyung, however, was a novice in those lessons, having barely started them before his exile. I sighed, thinking of Namjoon and my unanswered letter.

“Who was the first Bridd?” Jimin asked.

I smiled as I recalled the tale. “Her name was Rosette.”

“How did this family tradition even start?” Taehyung asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Settling into my small desk, I gestured for them to sit. I remembered Aldara’s stories vividly, her hands large and comforting as she spoke of Rosette, the legendary Bridd. Rosette was a figure of beauty and resilience, her story a foundation for our lineage.

“Rosette came from the Foxglove Village, a place once teeming with shifters. She was the daughter of a merchant, loved and admired by all. Life was harsh in Bangtan, but relatively peaceful until the Quietus stories began spreading south.”

Quietus, those ancient air elementals, were the first settlers of Lustra, driven out by the Sarkans over a millennium ago. The attack on Bangtan was retribution for not aiding them, though they had soon reclaimed their territory.

“After the Century War with Etelin, the Quietus were reduced to living in swamps, their numbers dwindling. The few that ventured into the forest were either vengeful survivors or driven mad by starvation.”

Jimin’s expression showed recognition, while Taehyung remained enraptured. I continued, my voice carrying the weight of history.

“These creatures were unknown to the shifters, whose people had only arrived in Lustra after their island was destroyed. Their treaties were new, their numbers sparse. They had no knowledge of the siege until their village was ablaze.”

“The Quietus queen, Nerezza, had lost her youngest child to the Sarkan invasion. Her grief drove her to attack, wrongly believing the Reikans were complicit. In truth, the Reikans were skittish, lacking the courage for true conflict.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyung interrupted, defensive of his ancestors.

“Yes,” I said, “your ancestors were strong, surviving the loss of their homeland and finding refuge here. But the Reikans were different, their settlers blending into your cultures, while the Quietus were formidable. Only one emerged as significant.”

“Rosette,” Jimin murmured.

“Yes, Rosette. A beautiful girl, her blonde hair and green eyes striking. She was a bird shifter in love with a fox. At just sixteen, she and a few others escaped the village’s destruction. Rosette, familiar with military strategies, directed them to safety.”

“She found herself in this very clearing, calling to the gods for aid. Despite the blizzard, she was enveloped in warmth. The gods offered her help in exchange for a solemn promise. She vowed to protect her sister’s life and, in return, her bloodline would become guardians of the forest.”

“And that’s when we lost our freedom,” I continued. “She woke up in this cottage, chained and imbued with new magic. After a century of solitude, she was given Jordana. We’re assigned a pupil and have sixteen years to train them before our transition to the spirit world.”

“Why can’t you shift freely, then?” Taehyung asked, curiosity piqued. Jimin smacked his arm, but I waved off the gesture.

No harm in asking.

“Our transformations are tied to the cycles of the sun and moon. The gods have a special fondness for watching us dance across the skies, like wayward comets caught in their eternal dance. We’re fortunate we managed to keep that part of ourselves as part of the bargain. Magic and shifting? They’re practically myths beyond these woods.”

Taehyung’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Is it the same for real werewolves? The sun and moon stuff?”

I let out a laugh, sharp and dismissive. “No, silly. Werewolves are shackled to the full moon. Their first transformation turns them into mindless beasts. They’re as good as dead within three months. Nothing like what you and I are.”

Taehyung seemed mollified by this explanation. He often referred to himself as a werewolf, much to Jimin’s annoyance. I understood why Jimin would bristle at that. Real werewolves were born into their condition, their bloodlines ancient and unbroken. Werewolves, on the other hand, were made, not born, and their kind was dwindling in the Ozryn Mountains, starved out and hunted down. The last outbreak had been decades ago, swiftly contained by the dwarves of Idris.

When the story ended, Taehyung returned to his reverie with Aldara’s book, and I resumed my fruitless search for that infuriating potion. I hadn’t heard back from Enver; his response times were always abysmal.

Jimin wandered the cellar, tracing the spines of the books. The sheer volume was staggering. Aldara had penned over forty grimoires in her lifetime, each a testament to her expertise in defensive magic. Rosette had authored 120, Jordana had 205, and Griselda held the record with 223. I could hardly fathom such productivity. I’d managed only three grimoires so far, and was plodding along on a fourth. My youthful exuberance for magic seemed a distant memory now, replaced by a more somber approach. Overwhelmed by self-doubt, I decided to take a break.

“Your aunt was pretty amazing,” Taehyung remarked.

“Yeah, she was,” I replied, the word "was" hanging in the air like a specter.

As the evening darkened, we had spent hours in the cellar. Jimin skimmed through books with the quiet diligence of a scholar, while Taehyung absorbed stories from Aldara’s collection. I flipped through Pippa’s spell books, making small talk with Taehyung. His constant chatter was a refreshing distraction from the oppressive silence of the house.

Taehyung had gone up for a nap over an hour ago, leaving Jimin and me alone. He was huddled over a book, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue sticking out slightly. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, though he remained silent about my furtive glances. It was a rare sight to see him so relaxed, so unguarded. Shiloh had mentioned she was visiting Morla to update her on Wendy’s situation. Mumbling to myself, I let the pen and ink I’d brought down write in my spell book. Sometimes it was easier to let magic handle the tedious parts.

Amid the grimoires and dusty tomes, I made notes of potential experiments. They might not be as thrilling as Pippa’s wild concoctions or as direct as Griselda’s precise spells, but they were my own. I was rediscovering the joy of magic, a pleasure Aldara would have appreciated.

“Bridd?” Jimin’s voice broke the silence, soft and inviting.

I looked up, noticing how his hair caught the candlelight, turning dark gray with stray wisps floating around. I wanted to smooth them down, but restrained myself. Jimin’s expression was a carefully maintained mask, a necessity for someone in his position. Yet, I glimpsed a fleeting smile, a rare crack in his stoic facade.

“Why don’t you have anything here?” he asked.

“Everything I own is upstairs,” I answered. “It’s too much trouble to haul it all down here every time I need to work.”

He chuckled. “So, you do have a diary?”

I flushed. “All of us do. It’s the best way to keep track for our successors.”

I wouldn’t let him read mine. It was filled with thoughts I’d long preferred to forget. During my more turbulent years, I’d penned five separate volumes of angst and sorrow. The idea of anyone reading them—especially Jimin—was mortifying. They were raw, unfiltered, a record of my darkest fears and desires. Thankfully, they had gone unnoticed until now.

“Yours must be very interesting,” Jimin mused.

I shook my head. “Not really. Mostly just teenage angst. Nothing worth reading.”

I tried to sound convincing, but Jimin’s probing gaze made me uneasy. I began tidying up, stacking grimoires, knowing it was nearing sunset. I needed to get back to my room soon.

As I turned, Jimin’s arms encircled my waist, surprising me. My heart leaped into my throat. He was so close I could count the freckles on his nose, see the length of his eyelashes, feel his warm, heavy scent envelop me. His proximity was overwhelming. I gripped the desk, struggling to speak.

“Jimin?” I managed, my voice trembling.

“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

Our bodies pressed together, his hands behind my back, though his grip remained on the table. I glanced at his hands, one resting on the other. Shaking with nervous energy, I forced myself to meet his gaze.

“Can I?” His eyes were as dark and intense as a stormy night.

A shiver crawled up my spine. I nodded, breath catching in my throat. Jimin’s smile was tender, almost ethereal.

“I enjoy your company.”

I could only manage another nod, my heart pounding, my throat dry. Jimin’s face inched closer to mine. I held my breath, searching for meaning in his eyes. This was not the man who had been absorbed in reading moments before. This was something different, something potent and unsettling.

“I like being close to you. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely audible.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his breath barely brushing my lips.

I knew I should have resisted, should have acknowledged the impossibility of our situation. Our lives were too tangled, our paths too divergent. He had a mate somewhere, and he’d forget me soon. Yet, despite all that, I shook my head.

“No.”

The kiss was unlike anything I’d ever known. Jimin’s lips were warm and insistent, igniting a fire within me. The heat was searing, electrifying, igniting every nerve ending. I clung to him, his embrace all-consuming. Everything I had feared, everything I had regretted, melted away. It didn’t matter anymore. Jimin was here, and he was mine.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze was soft, full of warmth and care. He nuzzled into my hairline, his touch a balm against the chaos. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I was dazed but managed to nod. As if drawn by an invisible force, I sought his lips again. Jimin’s hands cradled my face, pulling me closer. Any gentleness evaporated when my tongue brushed his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled from him as he hungrily explored my mouth. His grip tightened, his leg gently prying mine apart, lifting me onto the desk. My fingers dug into his shirt.

A sudden chill shot through me, yanking me out of the haze of passion. I pulled away, and Jimin stepped back, understanding dawning in his eyes. I choked out a “go” and stood up from the desk. The first feather burst through my skin as Jimin fled the cellar, leaving me alone with my searing heart and the cold void of my own fear.

Translations:

Swîgian âstillian. - Be quiet.

Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow? - How dare you?

Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes? - Who do you people think you are?

Yfel am sorig. - I am so sorry.

Thither is êower hygd? - Where is your mind?

Belāda mē - Sorry.

Quare? - Why?

Putasne me stultum esse? - Do you think I'm stupid?

Sol a me auferre conaris! - You are trying to take Sol from me!

Quid irrumabo facimus? - What the fuck do we do?

Nescio. - I don’t know.

Recedite ab ea! - Get away from her!

Licuitne futura est? - Is she going to be alright?

Taglist: @greezenini​ @adventures-in-bookland​ @kthstrawberryshortcake-main​ @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin​ @yamekomz @chimthicc​ @michiiedreamer​ @amorieus​ @mima795​

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[mrowmrowmrow9]

unfinished Crisis AU snippet

This is an unfinished fic built off of the last prompt fill I did (x). I haven't worked on it in a while and was considering it fully abandoned until @madeunmexico left a comment on ao3 asking to see the full story and now my interest has been renewed slightly? I give it like a 50/50 chance of being finished 😅 Anyways, here's what I had including the original microstory.

_

Barry. Kate. Kal. Fear on their faces. Blood on Oliver’s. Shadow demons hurtling towards them—

A familiar voice. “Kara.”

A harsh whisper, bordering on frantic. “Kara. Hey.”

She wakes up screaming, limbs flailing, fighting against the hands pulling at her and the arms wrapping around her middle.

“Shh. It's okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”

Kara gives up struggling and lets herself be held, choking on tears. She knows that voice, she does, but her mind dismisses the thought as soon as it forms. It can’t be him. Can’t be. She realizes for the first time that it isn’t nighttime, the reason everything’s dark is because her eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly it hurts. She opens them slowly, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light.

She’s in her apartment, wearing pajamas. That doesn’t make sense. What makes even less sense, if that’s possible, is that when Kara opens her eyes and raises her head and blinks to clear her vision so she can see who’s holding her, she’s met with a face that she’s only seen in dreams for the past two and a half years. 

Mon-El. 

When Kara sees him, she throws up. 

Actually throws up, for the first time in her adult life—super-speed has never been more helpful as she makes it to the bathroom just in time to hurl the contents of her stomach into the toilet. The person that looks like Mon-El and sounds like Mon-El and smells like Mon-El but cannot possibly be Mon-El comes running in after her. It’s too late to hold her hair back and she hears the faucet running instead.

“Here, do you want some water?”

She takes it automatically and drains the glass in one gulp, presses a hand to her head with a groan. Crisis. Oliver. The Monitor—she has to get her thoughts in order. How did she get here? Also very important: “What. What are you doing here?” she manages to get out.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I know it’s early, Rhonda’s girlfriend is in town and she asked me to trade shifts.” Possibly-Mon-El checks his watch. He’s fully dressed; he must have heard her from the kitchen before leaving the apartment. That he…seems to live in? Was staying in? Nothing makes sense. “Crap, I should probably get going. Unless you need me to stay?” He looks at her expectantly, those warm gray eyes filled with concern.

“No, you’re fine,” Kara says quickly and closes her eyes, her head throbbing. I meant, what are you doing in my apartment? In this century, for that matter? Whatever. The sooner he’s gone, the sooner she can figure out what the hell is going on.

“Alright.” He sighs, reaching out to gently brush her hair off her shoulder. “I hope the morning gets better. Let me know if you need anything—I think we still have some fruit salad left from yesterday. You said it helped with the nausea, right?”

She nods absently without registering his words, and watches him go. With some deliberate stalling while brushing her teeth, she manages to hide out in the bathroom until he leaves. But not without calling out “Love you!” through the door and Kara nearly has a heart attack. What kind of fucked-up dream could she be having? This cannot be real. It can’t be.

Her appetite eventually comes back, with it the realization that she’s seriously late for work, and as she grabs the container out of the fridge to bring with her the light glints off her left hand, catching her eye. 

Kara has always thought of herself as a reasonably intelligent person. This belief is somewhat shaken by the realization that it’s taken her this long to notice the engagement ring on her finger.

_

He doesn’t suspect anything. Why would he? She did seem oddly confused to see him, but dreams can be disorienting. Theirs certainly are—dying families, exploding planets, backstabbing allies. And that’s on top of everything…else.

He just hopes she’s happy. He hopes it’s nothing he did.

_

So, Nia’s clueless. Who isn’t? Still disoriented as all hell, Kara returns to the Catco building to find her coworkers exchanging tearful embraces. It looks like a middle-aged woman with curly hair whom Kara has never seen before in her life is leaving Catco for a job in Utah. At least, according to the conversation Kara listens in on in an attempt to figure out how to act normal.

Evidently she doesn’t do a very good job, because Nia frowns at her while she’s discreetly taking Brainy’s super-strength Advil and asks, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Julie?”

“R-Right, yeah,” Kara stammers, heart pounding, and awkwardly makes her way over.

This Julie is clearly under the impression that she and Kara are close friends, judging by the tight, rose-scented embrace Kara’s enveloped in before she can blink.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Julie rushes over to the desk that must have been hers and pulls a large paper bag out from underneath it. “I know I’m going to miss the party, so I wanted to give you this before I leave. They’re not new, but they’re still in good shape and, well, we don’t really need them anymore—I thought you and Mike would appreciate some extras!” She hands the bag to Kara, smiling expectantly.

Kara doesn’t think she’s ever been more confused in her life. She takes the bag, because what else is there to do, and cautiously peers inside. 

Baby clothes. Little socks and hats and a onesie with little ducks on it—great Rao, why is her vision getting blurry? “W-What are these for?” Kara asks, almost demands really, frantically blinking the tears away.

Now it’s Julie’s turn to be confused. “Well…the baby, of course!”

The fucking what now? “Right…of course,” Kara says slowly, fumbling for the right thing to say. “That’s so generous, thank you.”

“No problem!” Julie smiles and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. “I’m really going to miss you, Kara.”

Kara watches her walk away, gaping openly.

One thing is clear: she needs to talk to J’onn. Immediately.

_

They’re out on the balcony together, standing a careful distance apart and it feels like old times in the worst way possible. 

On a masochistic impulse, Mon-El plays back a moment from only twenty-four hours earlier.

He’s drifting off to sleep in their bed, drowsy and content with Kara in his arms and his hand over her belly right where the baby grows and he thinks to himself, a life like this is too good to be true. And yet it is. He should have known better.

Three years ago Mon-El returned to the 21st century with a wife by his side and claimed he felt nothing for Kara. That couldn’t have been further from the truth, but now it’s the last thing she remembers of him. The irony.

She doesn’t remember how he came back for her, or rather refused to leave again, even as she told him he was being selfish. She doesn’t remember how he said, I know. But one of us has to be. And we both know it was only ever going to be me. She doesn’t remember how they found their way back to each other, how he asked her to marry him and she said yes and their happiness was so great they just had to share it, create their own little family. It sounds like a fairy tale to him now, and he realizes that maybe that’s all it ever was.

Mon-El blinks back the tears that arise at the thought, swallowing down the lump in his throat. It isn’t the time for that now. He’s already cried on Alex’s shoulder, had J’onn explain everything to him a hundred times over. Right now, an emotional response from him is not what Kara needs. “I went over and got my things from the apartment,” he says, fighting to keep his voice even. “J’onn says I can stay with him for a while.”

“Okay.” Kara exhales. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to kick you out, I just—”

“No, it’s fine.” He meets her eyes and tries to muster some kind of half-smile. “It’s a lot, I get it.”

She nods, biting her lip, and the turns to him abruptly. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”

Thank Rao.

He rethinks agreeing to go to the apartment almost as soon as the door closes behind him. Everywhere he looks is a reminder of their life together, the one that Kara doesn’t remember.

She wrings her hands together. “Before we talk about anything else, there’s something I need to know.”

Mon-El braces himself. “Okay.”

Kara draws in a deep breath, and then blurts out, “Do we have a child?”

There it is. “No,” he says carefully. “Not…yet. But…” He licks his lips and steps forward, gently setting a hand on her belly. He watches the realization dawn in her eyes.

“I’m…”

“Yeah.” He retracts his hand and lets it hang awkwardly at his side. “Twelve weeks.”

She puts a hand on the countertop as if to steady herself and says nothing, eyes wide.

“I’m…sorry I didn’t say anything before,” Mon-El adds helplessly, ducking his head to try and meet her gaze. “I wasn’t sure if you already knew, or if physical conditions even carried over for the Paragons, but then I remembered you threw up this morning so I just figured—”

“Shh—stop talking.” Kara holds a hand up, closing her eyes. 

He shuts up.

She breathes out, slowly. “I-I’m sorry.”

“…It’s okay,” he says awkwardly.

“I just, I need some time to…think.”

“Right. Yeah, of course.” Mon-El takes a step back, clears his throat. “I, um. I’ll go. We can…talk more tomorrow?”

Kara nods absently, staring past him like he isn’t even there.

He shuts the door behind himself, and manages to avoid breaking down until the elevator. Small victories.

[sweetstarart]

40 Freaking Barnaby B Beagle headcanons!!!

(Why did this take me so long to make???)

Under the cut!

Hes surprisingly good at math! Ask him any question and he'll answer quickly before saying "But that's just my opinion"

His hat is pretty much an infinite pocket that can fit anything he wants

He keeps a rotary phone in his hat

He has a large collection of clown dolls

He can juggle up to 97 things at a time and hasn't dropped anything while juggling in 7 years

If Barnaby gets wet, rather than smelling like a wet dog he'll smell like popcorn

He wears boots on all four paws when it rains because he hates the feeling of mud between his fingers/toes

Barnaby tends to growl when people wake him up. Usually he'll apologize and calm down once he realizes its one of his neighbors but he'll still be a bit grumpy

The only way to prevent this is to wake him up by saying "knock knock" and knocking on the nearest surface

Even bad jokes make him laugh!

Barnaby frequently eats things that aren't food only to realize moments later

He can yawn like a human or a dog

He has a closet full of bones that he's too lazy to bury in his backyard

He can fit in incredibly tight spaces

Barnaby sleeps for 14 hours a day!

If he catches Eddie, he'll jump ontop of him before snapping out of it and wondering what happened

If Eddie isn't on time for a delivery, Barnaby will wake up and instinctively chase him around the neighborhood

He is incredibly afraid of mice and squirrels

Barnaby has been doing stand up for 12 years, starting off with 0 experience

That said he's grown to like the taste of tomatoes because of how often they were thrown at him as a kid

As a puppy he used to sneak out at night and go to comedy clubs

His mom caught him and as punishment, she slept on top of him like a mother hen does to her eggs for 2 months

He chews on anything! Mostly done out of affection but sometimes as a way to calm himself down if he's stressed

He usually chews on one of Howdy's arms

Howdy can tell if somethings bothering him judging by how hard he's biting

Howdy has gone on dates with many neighbors, but Barnaby is his favorite

He doesn't realize he's adopted and thinks his mother is just a strange breed of dog

They both like eachother very much

Him and Wally use the same eyeshadow and eyeliner

Barnaby's nose honks like a clown nose

He has a tendency to giggle after nearly everything he says

Barnaby is technically the tallest neighbor, but Poppy's head feathers make her seem bigger

Barnaby is NOT a good chef, particularly because the only things he can somewhat cook are made with dog food

He eats dry dog food like cereal and uses wet dog food inplace of beef

He doesn't like to go out on hot days because his paw pads are sensitive to heat

85 degrees or higher and he can't go outside at all

He says "excuse me" if he growls at people unintentionally

He often jokes about missing Sally's rehearsal because he'd rather stay in bed, but truthfully, he's never missed a single one and even shows up early most of the time!

Sally and him have somewhat of a rivalry, but they're still very close friends

He loves to dance!

Would you believe me if I said that wasn't all of them? Lmao I love this dude!