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pandorascripts · 1 month ago

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Family Reunion

Uhm... hi... guys!!! Yes, I did go MIA for like a whole year, but I got better at writing and my gay ass got extreme motivation from Agatha and Rio soooo I'm here!!! Not sure if this is permanent, but I really wanted to write Agatha as a mother. Feel free to send in requests (platonic or romantic, either works), who knows if I'll get around to them, but they might motivate me!

Summary: Rio and Agatha begin to heal, too absorbed in familiarity to remember just how bad they were for one another. The Road decides to leap out of Rio's control, thrusting their young daughter away from the underworld and back into their lives.

summary shortened: you're pretty much Nick, except the road decides to throw you back onto the mortal plane for an unknown reason. warnings: some grief, mainly fluff, big smooch scene that we deserved, and me using my Spanish-II class for nefarious acts online (making rio and reader speak Spanish). relationships: Agario/plantonic!reader

all spelling errors are mine, and I apologize, but I'm too excited about writing again to care <3. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agatha listens as the other coven members cheerily laugh about past experiences -- each letting the burning weight of the trials slip off their shoulders for a moment. The past centuries of her life have been held as a solo journey for Agatha, coven-less, loveless, family-less, and yet, analyzing the people around her, she can't help but wonder if that had been the wrong choice. How is it that these "failed" witches can form a coven far more accepting than the last one she was in? Agatha's not sure, but that spark of humanity she swore died when her coven betrayed her is fighting against the brutal self-taught lessons of apathy. She finds herself drawn into the conversation with a question directed at her. Far too surprised that she's been included, Agatha doesn't clock who it came from at all. Her weight shifts on the log beneath her, fingers anxiously spinning the flower Rio's been harboring since she darkened the road with her soul. Agatha risks a glance at her, then turns back to the coven. Her elbow buzzes with a reminder of a rather bland battle, the hard knitting tool piercing her skin replaying in her mind again. Rio seemingly knows where she's going with this when Agatha hikes up her shirt, lifting her elbow with a small smile.

"You ever heard of the Daughters of Liberty?" her hoarse voice rings out, a faintly muffled chuckle coming from the woman on her right. Agatha smiles at her for the first time in years.

The group enthusiastically shakes their heads, all curious about where Agatha is directing her story. Well aware, Agatha knows she needs to seemingly open up to these women and keep her animosity for them. Letting them in on her past isn't going to do that, so with a snap of her hand the shirt is back down to her wrist, cocky eyes darting around the circle. "Exactly."

Despite how chilling this should be, the group just smiles and laughs at Agatha's story. Agatha won't look into it because that off-putting "joke" just got her respect points with the coven she may or may not choose to betray. That's a win in her mind that is immediately taken away when her old counterpart speaks up.

"I have a scar."

Her tone is a little dry, her face so blank as usual. Naturally, the coven is a little uneasy at Rio's presence, all still deciding if she's trustworthy or not.

Agatha's jaw is sharply outlined as she glares. With a hard breath her nostrils are inflamed, knowing Rio's antics far too familiarly. "No, you don't."

Rio sends her a glare, as if to tell her to shut up. "Yes, I do."

Agatha knows she cannot interrupt again, the coven would be far too suspicious of just how well they know one another. Who Agatha falls in love with is her business -- her weakness is her business. With a taste of defeat that's absolutely disgusting, Agatha lets Rio speak.

"A long time ago, I loved somebody," she starts softly, if not a little too apathetic for a claim like that. The coven is immediately a little interested -- most thinking that Rio is quite the psychopath. Agatha knows they're wrong.

"I had to do something I didn't want to do, and it hurt them," with these words spilt out, Rio gets a little angry at the next part of her speech. Agatha knows what this is going to, her eyes shooting away to look at the stars instead of the stars in Rio's eyes. "But it was my job."

Agatha glares down at her purple pants, the fire a couple feet ahead casting them brighter than their original color. The avoidance is choking her out, but even when Rio speaks again, Agatha is too pained to look.

"She is my scar."

Rio looks over and up at Agatha, not caring that the coven has certainly understood the depth of the relationship between them. For a moment, weakness allows Agatha to breathe in deep, her head softly turning to glance at Rio. The moment the exchange is made, Agatha's body heating up with utter embarrassment, her head snaps. The crack of her knees is deafening, fingers flexing as she tries to loosen the hold on this flower. This damn flower -- why is it still in her hands? Agatha feels grossed out by the question, but more so by her internal response. Rio's face is still burned into her head, the parted lips, eyes open and unafraid of being known by the coven. Rio's look of pure, unaltered love that Agatha swore never truly existed between them.

"Well, I'm gonna take a walk," she snaps out, sending what's supposed to be a condescending smile to the group. Everyone sees through it, more so when Rio sighs annoyedly and rushes after.

Rio would be lying if she said she wasn't slightly pissed, the only thing easing that being the sway of Agatha's hips as she practically darts away from Rio's penetrating gaze. Her eyes remain narrow, watching Agatha fifteen feet up with no objective other than having her back again. Death is lonely, figuratively and literally. She's not found one person who's soul can ease her lack of besides Agatha. Years have blurred together, broken cries of rejection chipping away at the humanity Rio used to harbor, and everything over the millennia she's existed for has undeniably forced her to adept into stone cold apathy. Agatha healed that. During their fleeting time together, Death felt things other than her frozen over hell, she felt desired, understood, she felt human and she understood why humans hate dying so much. Agatha made Death feel like living. So yes, even after this time apart, she's angry that the one soul she refused to take could end up leaving her.

Agatha stops a couple feet ahead now, Rio's gaze running over her body to fully cement the fact that they're back together now, even if not emotionally. Testing waters which have laid still for so long, Rio's chipped nails faintly feel the back of Agatha's spine. When her fingers make contact again, she remembers every night they rested there too -- during walks along the Norwegian beaches despite how freezing it was, fooling around when Agatha was first dabbling in black magic, to nights when Agatha was falling asleep holding their kid and Rio asking hesitantly to take her instead. It's so much, Rio notes, and she understands that it must be for Agatha too because a sound so hauntingly familiar falls from her aching lips -- a moan rippling those waters untouched for years.

Silence is only exchanged after that, Agatha turning around to relent into Rio's care. Seeing her divine face this close again after so many years of punishment, is like allowing a sinner a breath of heaven for Agatha. Her nails rake along Rio's soft face as she soaks in this moment. Her bones are aching to crawl back into the grave she spent so long being comforted in, they're pleading Agatha to just allow them this reprieve, and so she grants it. Rio knows what's coming, her hands clinging onto Agatha as her face dives into her neck. Both their noses dip into the skin, smelling each other, holding each other, for the first time in years. That comforting smell of flowers, dewy earth, and the beguiling scent of death fills Agatha's nose, tears slipping down her face with familiarity.

Rio feels Agatha's hands gripping her head, her own chest stuttering as she struggles with the fleeting emotions entwined with humanity. It's so overwhelming and it's been so long since she's felt it again. Desperate to capture it, Rio grips Agatha's back, nails digging into her shirt as she feels her soul back where it belongs. Still, silence. There's nothing they need to say to her that isn't being felt -- love, security, a hint of forgiveness that Rio hopes won't be nipped in the bud.

Agatha pulls back, Rio tilting her head to analyze her features. When looking isn't enough, they both hold one another's faces, thumbs memorizing the skin along their paths. Rio can feel her eyelids droop, soulless brown eyes moving to the pair of lips in front of her. Agatha's filled with the same desire, darting forward before she can properly judge what's happening, nose bumping against Rio's. The latter pulls away, a soft hum leaving her lips.

"Agatha..."

There's a subtle nod from the addressed, eyes moving off from her mouth to Rio's eyes. It's there Agatha finds that she wasn't stopped out of hesitance or unwillingness, so she leans in again. Rio lets her, invites her when she tilts too.

Agatha hasn't felt a kiss like Rio's kisses in centuries. The moment she feels it again, she lets out a sweet moan. Rio notes how different it is from the ones she usually pulls out -- whether from pain or pleasure. Agatha's was slow and sweet, as if she had been longing for this all her life. It's comforting and full of love. Rio wants more -- she needs to know that this isn't one sided -- that Agatha has started to forgive her for a pain they share. Her hands move to support Agatha's jaw, pulling her into her furthermore as if she wants to swallow her with a kiss. Agatha's giving everything back, lips in tandem with Rio's as they refuse to part for anything.

They're like that for far too long, only stopping when Agatha rests her forehead against Rio's, trying to stifle her panting. Their eyes remain shut, soaking in the physical feel of being loved again.

"I can't -- I can't accept what happened, but -- but I want you to know, I know it hurt you too," Agatha softly speaks, the vulnerability something she rarely shows. It's been years and years of animosity because of their shared grief.

Rio's completely silent, her eyes opening to see the tears slipping down Agatha's cheeks. It takes her a moment of confusion before she realizes that she's crying too -- something that hasn't happened since she held that lifeless body in her heavy arms, crying as she pretended to be tucking her in her crib like she had so many times over the years. Rio's choked up as well, nodding her head as she desperately moves Agatha's hair behind her ears, needing to busy her hands with something.

"I --" Rio can't get anything out. Her thoughts are wilder than a tornado, each one fleeting and escaping her brain before they can be shoved out her mouth. For someone so witty, she can't speak. Rio nods again, lips pressed thin as she leans back in to feel Agatha's lips. There's no denial from Agatha, just like how there never was any all those centuries ago.

The next couple of minutes are spent exchanging sweet kisses, lips slowly and barely moving away just to reconnect seconds later. Rio's hand slips under Agatha's shirt, feeling the taut fabric against her hands when she pulls it out from the waistband of her purple pants. Malleable flesh against her fingertips makes Rio moan against Agatha, a small smirk on her lips when another moan follows -- but not from her. Rio's nails rake along Agatha's stomach, enjoying the feeling after being denied it for so long.

Lost in familiarity, they don't notice the tree cracking behind them -- not until it drops a couple feet out, a hoarse shriek coming from Agatha. Rio's back is turned to her now, hand on her waist as she keeps Agatha close. There's something under the rubble, her eyes thinning down as she glares at the rustling wood. Eventually, Rio steps away from Agatha and kicks over the wood, an unconscious face all too known in front of her. With a hard smack, Rio's knees are digging into the floor, hands grabbing out the sweet face she swore she wouldn't see ever again.

Agatha's stood behind, eyes slightly wide and confused before a soft, "hija" is echoed out in the cold air. Haunted, Agatha stumbles forward to drop down next to Rio, hands moving out to grab at your face. The moment she thinks she can, her hands shoot back and away, knees popping when she abruptly stands. In a hard panic and a heavy breath, her face is whipping around and looking around the road.

"Is this some sick trial?" she screeches out, her lungs aching as she sobs to whoever is controlling this.

Rio's still sitting, cradling your body as her hands touch your hair. The road bends to Rio's will -- after all, Rio only designed the road to bring her more souls -- but this isn't her. This is something else, something far more evil that's infiltrated her dimension. Rio doesn't understand how this is happening, who's behind it, or what the consequences are going to be, but she needs to just soak in this moment.

Rio hasn't seen your chest move in hundreds of years.

Shaky fingers press along your chest, feeling it rise against her hold, then fall, and repeat.

"Agatha," she calls out, turning her head to look at the panicked woman in front of her.

Bewildered and terrified, Agatha meets your sleeping face and freezes. There's a sick part of Agatha that reminds her she had forgotten certain aspects of your face, the guilt eating at her and choking her out. With a shake of her head, Agatha trips over herself as she tries to get away. The sobs are muffled by her vibrating hand, vision blinded by overwhelmed tears. There's too much happening for Agatha to even try regulating herself, so caught up in the face that has haunted her for centuries being thrusted against her in such a short time.

Rio gently picks up your body, head slack against her hard shoulder. The last time you were like this Rio was tightly holding you away from the Ferryman. Her hands rub your back, shifting to make adjustments for you. Centuries ago when you died, you were no more than six, now it seems as if something changed that -- you look like you're ten now. Rio doesn't understand how you managed to "age" if you hadn't had a beating heart in a long time, but she doesn't care.

"Agatha," she tries again, wanting her to see her daughter even if you'll get tugged back onto that old boat soon.

Whipping around, her hands still pressed against her mouth, she gently meets Rio half way. The tears won't stop, shock and disbelief on her aged face. "Oh God," she mumbles, hand slipping over to brush some brown hair away from your face.

You're still you, if not a little pale and older now, but Agatha can't register that. Her baby is back, in some sick way, her baby is back. Rio holds you tightly, feeling so confused as your body is warm against hers.

"What is this?" Agatha hoarsely questions, eyes darting away from yours to Rio's face.

"I don't know -- I didn't do it -- I swear," she sputters out, stopping only when Agatha presses her tear-soaked lips against Rio's own again.

"I know, I know."

Rio calms down at the belief, her arms heavy as Agatha starts to lift you into her own arms. There's a shift from you, Agatha's eyebrows pressing deeply together as she almost glares at you. Still convinced this isn't real, she's as stiff as a board against you. Up until you press into her shoulder, rubbing your nose twice before halting, Agatha doesn't believe it. That single act performed crushes her reluctance, heart stopping at feeling something you used to do all the time against her.

"Oh, baby," she cries out, nose pressed into the side of your hair as you stir. Rio watches with wide eyes, lips parted as she watches how easily Agatha slips back into her motherly tendencies.

Agatha cries until she can't anymore, eventually finding herself sitting down and just holding you against her. Of course, she doesn't want to wake you up but she also can't stop touching you. Desperately aching for the constant reminder that you're tangible -- that you're here -- Agatha's hands constantly touch your face, your waist, your hips -- gently running over your body as she shakes.

Rio sits down in front, hand resting just under your lower thigh, thumb rubbing against the side of your knee. With all this touch, you wake up slightly annoyed, pushing yourself farther into Agatha. Her tears only increase tenfold, fleeting attempts to stop it doing nothing.

"Momma, stop," you quietly whine as she plays with your messy hair, your nose crinkled up just like hers does. The similar aspect makes Agatha tear up, head nodding as she stills her hand on your waist.

"Sorry, baby."

Rio notes Agatha's cracking voice, and so do you. Tiredly, you look up at them both, confused as to why your parents had been crying.

"Why you guys crying?"

"Just really happy, honey," Agatha sniffles out, rubbing your face again. You don't fight against it, eyes darting down to look at Rio.

"Okay." Your soft tone makes Rio's lip tremble, her hand coming out to move some of your curly hair -- so alike to Agatha's -- out of your face. There's a small shake of your head as you adjust your big glasses -- the ones Rio always adored.

"I don't want you to cry, it makes me sad too," you softly admit, moving your face to rest alongside Agatha's sternum. Habits don't die, as proven when Agatha already moves to take off your glasses for you so they don't get bent by how you're laying. Rio acts on impulse too, taking the glasses from Agatha's hands and setting them on her shirt.

"Nosotras sabemos, hija," Rio speaks out, her eyes trained on your face. For a fleeting moment, Rio wonders if you've forgotten the language she taught you, her heart breaking in her chest before you respond with a nod. Agatha's a little behind before understanding what Rio means.

"We know," Agatha reiterates, letting you know that she understood the conversation and agrees.

"Where are we?" you ask, finally looking around to notice what's happening.

Rio can't think of anything to say, not until Agatha comes up with something. "Road trip, dear."

Trusting your mom, you just confusedly nod your head.

"¿Cuándo planeamos el viaje?" you ask out.

Agatha can't respond right away, but Rio does. "You were sleeping, Mama and I wanted to surprise you."

Turning her head to face the speaker, Agatha is a little confused at the question but goes with it. The answer isn't upsetting you, if not just making you a little confused, so she doesn't really care to figure out what was spoken.

"Can I sleep now?" you ask, yawning just after.

"Yeah, baby, of course."

Rio turns to look at Agatha's expression, her heart lurching at just how well motherhood suits her. Brown eyes watch Agatha's gentle hands -- hands that have slaughtered thousands -- sweetly caress your kind face. With a hum, you lean into your mama's hands, eyes shut as you try to sleep again. Agatha is completely lost in having you back, soothingly tracing along your face and down the slope of your nose, touching something she never thought she would again. Rio is too nervous to touch you again, the last time far too devastating for her liking.

As if a mind reader, Agatha brings up Rio's hand to your stomach, setting it there before looking back down at you.

Complete silence falls over you all, Rio's hand stiff before she hesitantly brings it to flatten against your stomach. Apathy is long gone from her usually conniving features, everything overtaken with terrified love. After a minute or two, Rio manages to calm down her anxiety and let her knuckles run against your shirt, remembering the nights when you'd both be sent into fits of giggles when she'd blow raspberries against your stomach. Much to Agatha's dismay, only because it'd rile you up before bedtime. Truth be told, Agatha let it happen a couple times, observing contently from the bedroom door before she'd break it up so you could sleep.

You're knocked out again minutes later, a soft chuckle coming from Rio's lips. "God, she always was a hard sleeper."

Agatha silently nods, tears slipping down her face again. Rio brushes them away with her free hand, letting her knuckles trace against Agatha too.

"You know we don't have her back for long, right?" Rio asks quietly. In a hard, choked out response, Agatha nods her head. "I know, I know. I just need her for a bit longer."

Rio's lips are tugged taut before leaning into a frown, her forehead against Agatha's as they sit in silence together.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha x rio #agatha spoilers #agario #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #rio vidal x agatha harkness #rio vidal x you #rio vidal x y/n #fanfic #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #agathario #these guys are so gay

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dewdrops-whammy-bar · 2 months ago

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Tenth Drink Free

Chapter 1/10: Heart 1721 words

Dewdrop is a barista in a college town. He’s sworn off romance for the time being- he doesn’t have time for it. He’s an adult with a job, he doesn’t have time for dating and inevitable heartbreak. Until a hot nursing student with an ass to rival the gods walks in. Oh fuck. And he’s got puppy eyes. Oh FUCK. A story told in the space of nine coffee shop purchases and a freebie.

Behold, the quinessential (no pun intended) coffee shop au that every fanfic author writes eventually. I need hot nursing student Aether and pathetic sopping wet barista Dew to have gay t4t sex.

I don't have a set upload schedule but if you want to be added to a taglist lmk in the comments!

Read below or on AO3!

Dew cracks open his energy drink with his teeth as his other hand haphazardly pulls his apron over his head. The strap catches on the butterfly clip holding his hair back and yanks it out of place. Dew hisses in pain as it tugs on his hair and manages to catch it before it hits the floor.

“Hungover again?” Cirrus asks sympathetically as she passes with a tray of pastries. Dew grunts and shakes his head.

“Nah. Couldn’t sleep.” It’s only semi-true, he’d in fact been having a marathon of 80s horror movies. He’d awoken to Rain slinking out of his room at 11 to make coffee, leaving only thirty minutes to throw on clean clothes before he had to be at work. Luckily the little cafe tucked between a furniture store and a Mediterranean restaurant was only a fifteen minute walk from his apartment. The benefits of living in a college town, he supposes.

“I can let you off early so you can go home for a nap,” Cirrus offers. “Tuesdays are slow in the afternoons anyway.”

“That would be amazing, thanks Cir.” Dew sighs and takes a sip of his energy drink. He bends the tab of the can up, clamps it between his teeth, and pulls his hair back. Wrapping it into a loose bun, he secures it with the butterfly clip and retrieves his can from its precarious position.

“You’re gonna chip a tooth like that,” Swiss provides unhelpfully from his place at the sink. “And god knows if the dental insurance here will cover that.”

“I’ll be fine.” Dew rolls his eyes. “Focus on those muffin pans, dish boy.”

Swiss flips him a soapy middle finger, but Dew has turned and walked out of the kitchen by then. He downs about half of his red bull, stifles a burp behind his hand, and taps Aurora out at the register.

“Ohhh, thank god.” Rory sighs, dropping her customer service face. “There were two Karens half an hour ago. One right after the other. Fuckin’ exhausting.” Her bright pink lipstick is slightly smeared, evidence of her bad habit of chewing on her lips. “I need a drink…”

“It’s noon. Go steal a croissant from the kitchen instead. Thanks for putting me in the line of fire, by the way.” Dew rolls his eyes playfully. “Go smack Swiss’s ass for me.”

“Yessir!” Rory gives a two-finger salute before scurrying off into the kitchen. Dew sighs and resigns himself to the following hours of tedious interaction. A moment later, there’s a squawk from the kitchen followed by a squeal from Aurora.

A chai latte, a caramel macchiato, two vanilla lattes, two drip coffees, an Italian soda, and a needlessly complicated order that Dew can’t even begin to remember later, he’s only a quarter of the way through his shift. At least it’s a quiet day. The regulars from the local college usually come in before classes or on weekends to study.

Dew props his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his hand, letting his mind wander. He’s been saving up for a cool guitar pedal and managed to find it on Ebay for half the price, but he is in a bidding war for it. He’d sneak a peek at the listing on his phone while the cafe was relatively quiet but he’d left it in his bag. Shit.

He straightens up, cracks his back, and begins reorganizing the supplies behind the bar. His fingers are getting twitchy from the caffeine kicking in. He curses his health insurance for not covering ADHD medication so he can actually function as a person. Or mood stabilizers. Or even therapy.

The door swings open again as Dew is cleaning the steam wand on the espresso machine. He sets the wet rag on the counter and turns to see- oh wow. His grumpy mood is instantly forgotten.

An absolute Greek god of a man stands near the doorway, scanning the drinks menu. He’s tall, built like a brick wall with just the right amount of chub, and- from what Dew can see- an ass to die for. If he were a slightly weaker man, he would vault over the counter, drop to his knees, and choke himself unconscious on that man’s dick.

He shifts his weight and bites his tongue in annoyance. Stupid fucking high libido. He doesn’t have time to be creaming his pants at work. He’s not above using his break to jerk off in the bathroom, though…

Someone clears their throat. Big Sexy (as he’s decided to call the man) stands before him, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Oh, are you ready to order?” Dew asks, hoping to any higher powers above and/or below that he hadn’t been staring.

“Yeah. Can I get a… actually, what do you recommend?” Big Sexy asks, cocking his head adorably. Dew feels hypnotized by his dark blue eyes. “This is my first time here, I’ve been meaning to check it out for a while but kept forgetting.” He shrugs apologetically.

“Oh- yeah,” Dew stammers a bit. “I, uh, my go-to is a cold brew with hazelnut syrup and about half of one of those creamer cups.” He points at the side counter where a small shelf holds straws, sugar packets, and other extras. “You could add more cream if you want, I just like it a little bitter.”

I wonder what his cream tastes like, his horny brain supplies helpfully. Dew gives that part of his brain a mental smack and turns his attention back to Big Sexy.

“Alright, I’ll have that. Medium, please.” Big Sexy reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Dew enters the order into the register, glad to pull his eyes away from Big Sexy’s.

“That’s $4.25.” Dew grabs a clear cup from a stack and jots down the order as Big Sexy swipes his card. “And can I get a name for the order?”

“Oh- Aether. A-E-T-H-E-R.” Big Sexy- Aether replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Aether…” Dew mumbles to himself as he scribbles down the name. “Sick name. Your parents must’ve been cool.”

“Actually, I uh- I named myself. Had a weird phase when I was 15 and it kind of… stuck.” Aether seems a little embarrassed by this, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dew pauses for a moment to consider this information. Aether could just be a nickname, or… well, Dew had renamed himself at 13. There could be a possibility that Aether was trans, just like him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Instead he turns to begin making the drink.

“I’ll have it for you in a minute,” he tells Aether, physically restraining himself from sneaking another glance at those pretty blue eyes. That would have been weird, and he really doesn’t want to scare this guy off.

Dew finishes making the coffee almost on autopilot. He wants to ask questions- was he a student at the local college? If yes, what did he study? Did he have a private dorm room? Would he be willing to fuck Dew until-

Good lord, get your shit together. Dew thinks, giving his head a shake. Your break’s in half an hour. You can fantasize then.

He slides the finished drink across the counter with a little creamer cup on top. “Aether? Here ya go.” He didn’t really need to call out the order name since there wasn’t anyone else waiting, but he liked saying it. Aether. Ay-ther. It was a cool name.

“Thanks, uh…” Aether’s eyes dart down to Dew’s nametag. “Dew. That’s, ah- that’s a cool name too.”

“Thanks. Picked it out myself.” Dew rarely genuinely smiles at customers, but the grin he gives Aether is 100% real. “You’ll never guess what it’s short for.”

“Hmm… Dewey? Dwight?” Aether cocks his head again, not unlike a puppy. Dew shakes his head.

“Nope.” Dew turns back to the machines, picking up his discarded cleaning rag. “You can keep trying, I doubt you’ll get it.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep coming back.” Aether chuckles. “Do you guys have a punch card by any chance?”

Dew sputters, left reeling by the comment. God, he’s pathetic. The mere suggestion that Aether might be coming back makes his heart flutter like a teen with their first crush. Oh fuck, was this a crush? He’s too old to be having those.

“Um- yeah, let me get one for you.” Dew turns back to the register to hopefully hide any blush he had and retrieves a punch card from the drawer under the counter. He remembers to grab the hole puncher too and clicks a hole in the first space on the card. It was a heart today, of all shapes. “Here.”

“Thanks so much.” Aether gives Dew a smile and poor Dew can do nothing but stare at his stupid, gorgeous puppy eyes. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“Y-yeah, see you soon then.” Dew manages to say with a nod. He watches Aether leave- Good lord, that ass is a sight to behold- and decides to take his break early. He taps Swiss in and makes for the back door of the kitchen.

Leaning against the wall next to the dumpster, he lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag. His head tips back against the brick wall as he exhales the smoke. God… pull it together. You are twenty-four. You have a job and hobbies. You absolutely CANNOT be having a puppy crush on a CUSTOMER. Especially one you’ve only interacted with for five minutes. This is pathetic. Finish your cig and go do your job so you can get paid and be a functioning adult.

Dew does just that- smokes his cigarette down to the filter, stubs it out on the wall, tosses the butt into the dumpster, pops a mint in his mouth, and re-enters the kitchen.

The rest of his shift goes… fine, he guesses. He downs another red bull, banters with Swiss, gets scolded by Cumulus for “using kitchen equipment unsafely” (closing an oven with his hip), and manages to interact with customers without accumulating an HR report.

On his walk home, the darkening autumn sky is remarkably close to a certain shade of blue. Dew grits his teeth and turns his gaze to the sidewalk.

kudos and comments on ao3 would make my day!

#nameless ghouls #the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #dewther #dewdrop/aether #aether/dewdrop #trans dewdrop #trans aether #trans ghouls #wham writes #Dewther TDF

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yellowwwcrayon · 2 months ago

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genderswap AU (always a woman!Logan x Wolverine Origins!Wade)

A related thought I had a few days ago.

Warnings for the below - mentions of past child SA from Wade's uncle.

"Icebreaker question, when did everyone lose their v-cards?" Wade asked as annoyed groans broke out all around the campfire. Their new CO stood and walked off into the pitch black night without so much as a wave for good night.

Rude.

"Alright, now that the 80-year-old virgin has left the chat, how about the rest of you handsome devils, hmm?" He grinned at the sullen faces reflected in the fire's glow, shiny with sweat and gun oil and probably dried blood. "Oh, come on. I'm just trying to get to know my new teammates better. We just annihilated a whole ass cartel together, time to whip out some mimosas, gossip about our sordid pasts and braid Victor's chest hair."

Victor's jaw twitched as he zipped his vest up over that impressive plumage. The woman sitting next to him, the only woman in their little ragtag team of homicidal freaks mind you, snorted and lifted the lukewarm beer she'd been nursing for the past fifteen minutes up to her face. He watched her take a long swallow, some of the foamy white liquid sloshing over the corners of her mouth and meandering lazily down the olive skin of her exposed neck.

Fred cleared his throat, "sixteen. She was my high school sweetheart."

"Sickening," Wade commented after a pause, ripping his gaze off of Logan and picking up his own forgotten beer, "I'd like to say twenty," a few disbelieving laughs echoed through the men, "but officially, twelve and a half, to a weird uncle on my dad's side at a Christmas party."

Zero made a face.

"Why twenty?" John asked from beside him.

"Oh just because of how earth-shatteringly good it was," He kicked his legs out and rolled his shoulders back, acutely aware of Logan's eyes on him across the flickering fire, "you see, I was but a simple innocent Canadian boy before I met her. After, I emerged a man."

"You are so fucking weird," said Zero.

"Hush, Jimin, I'm telling the story here."

"Jesus."

"My car, well, it technically wasn't my car. I stole it off of a drug dealer south of the border, but I digress. Anyway, it had broken down on the side of the road in Albuquerque, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and I was seriously contemplating trading my tight ass or hot mouth for a ride to the nearest town when my goddess, my princess in shining uh- plaid shirt and jeans, came barreling down the dirt path in this rusty pile of scrap metal-"

"Your princess sounds like a dude," Fred interrupted. "It was a man, wasn't it? I can already see the punchline coming from a mile away."

"Are you gay?" Zero asked, "you seem pretty gay."

Bradley, who had been listening quietly next to Logan this whole time, finally choked on his drink and dissolved into a coughing fit. She reached over and thumped him a few times on the back, her gaze never leaving Wade's face. He stared back.

"Sorry to disappoint, Suga sweetie, but I'm strictly into pussy due to the creepy uncles."

Zero's nose scrunched. "Ugh."

"Anywho, out hopped this beast of a woman," Wade went on, “she was fucking gorgeous, legs for days and tits the size of my head-"

"Singular or combined?"

Wade gawked at him. "Fred, what the fuck?"

"What?" He shrugged, "your head's not that big, Wade."

"This is a shitty story," Zero complained, folding his arms over his chest.

"As big as Logan's melons, ok? Stop interrupting me."

Everyone turned to stare at Logan, whose breasts strained against the sweat-stained wifebeater she was wearing, one black bra strap peeking out from over her left shoulder. She lifted an eyebrow at them and took another sip of beer. Beside Logan, Victor growled, sounding like a backed up motorcycle.

"That's pretty big," Fred finally nodded, "go on."

(Taking a short break from work to relax my brain and free write a bit. Yes, the mystery woman from Wade's story is Logan. They hooked up before they ran into each other again with Team X.)

#i'll probably add more later #in the reblogs #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool #deadpool x wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine #wade wilson #deadclaws #wolverine origins

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archangeldyke-all · 9 months ago

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can you write something about amab ceo sev and her trans identity and story, i love ceo sev sm she has my whole heart

yeah lets do it!

quick disclaimer! i'm cis, so if there's any mistakes/missteps lmk and i will fix it asap!

men and minors dni

i imagine sevika as one of those people who's just always known who they are. not just in terms of queerness, but like, just opinions and taste and personality in general.

so i think when she was a kid, she likely knew she was trans, just like she knew she liked women. she might not have had the vocabulary to name it, or known that other people feel it, but she never questioned it about herself specifically.

i dont think she would've told anyone, though.

sevika's incredibly perceptive-- she would have known, even as a kid, how talking about the different feelings she was having could upset people, or get her in trouble.

she found the words for what she'd always known to be true about herself when she was an early teenager. sevika's a big reader, and she was one of those kids who wants to know how everything works: from machines to nature to politics to society-- she'd stumble across the complexities of gender identity earlier than most kids do.

but again, she didn't tell anyone. sevika's no stranger to how horrible people can be-- she didn't want to give anybody an extra reason to fuck with her. instead, she just kept to herself, finding comfort in reading as many books and articles on queerness and transness that she could get her hands on.

she understood early on what she was up against, being a trans, gay, brown/black woman in this society. but she never let it deter her.

the second she turned fifteen she got a job as a busser at a restaurant in her town. she saved every penny-- and she worked all the time. besides the occasional pack of gum and pair of socks, the only thing sevika ever bought in was a junker of a car from her neighbor-- only $500.

she repaired it on her own during her free time. (of which, there was hardly any.)

the second she turned eighteen, sevika packed up her belongings in the backseat of her car and left her hometown never to return. it was now that she could finally start living her truth.

with her saving she managed to get an apartment to lease for a few months while she scrambled for a job. for a while, she was bouncing from security job to security job, but then she managed to snag a stable position as a saleswoman.

with her new job she got benefits. a 401k and healthcare.

she started going to therapy at, like, 20. again-- sevika's incredibly self aware. she was laying in bed staring at the ceiling once night, and she just thought to herself 'huh, you know, i've kinda been through a lot. i'm kinda going through a lot. i should... probably go to therapy.' and then she just did.

it took her a few tries to find a good therapist, but then she met a four foot tall little old lady who looked like mrs. clause but cursed like a sailor. sevika fell in love the moment they met.

mrs. clause-- or dr. walsh-- was a no-nonsense, no-bullshit kind of lady. each time sevika would try to downplay her achievements or doubt herself, dr. walsh would throw a crumbled postit at her face and rant-encourage-remind sevika about her strength and bravery.

with dr. walsh's help, sevika started to see her future as something that could be... positive. she'd been so focused on escaping the past, she forgot she could look forward. but once she did-- she was exhilarated.

it was definetly an, 'oh, shit, i can do anything i fucking want' moment for her.

she knew that she had it in her to do it-- she'd proven it to herself time and time again-- now she just had to decide what she wanted to do.

it took her a while, a lot of research and soul searching, but by the time she was 22 she started to socially transition.

her hair'd always been long, but she finally treated herself to a visit to a salon-- getting it styled in the perfect slightly slanted bob she'd always wanted. she made a promise to herself in the parking lot that she'd never cut her own hair again, she was so fucking thrilled with the experience and the outcome. (her stylist was a huge gossip-- spent the entire time telling sevika about her sister's sex life. sevika had a blast)

she started treating herself to more clothes. custom tailored suits for the office-- blouses and button ups and fun silky ties for underneath.

(all the while, she was effortlessly climbing the ranks at work. despite the horrible office culture in a competitive environment like sales-- money talks. and sevika was outselling all her co-workers.)

she found the name 'sevika' one day completely randomly. she hadn't really given changing her name any thought until her eyes glanced over the name in contact screen of a stranger's phone-- but she couldn't get the sound of it out of her head.

at 25, sevika started to medically transition. with a lot of research, both on her and dr. walsh's end-- she started estrogen.

she was thrilled. she knew changes couldn't be seen on a day to day basis-- but she swore every day she woke up looking and feeling more and more like her.

always a gym rat-- sevika's muscular frame started to carry a little more curve.

she smiled for a full six hours the first time she noticed her ass jiggling in the full length mirrors at the gym as she did burpies.

sevika was no stranger to eyeliner having gone through a bit of an emo phase as a kid-- but beyond that she found the sensory feeling of makeup unbearable.

but when she found out that there was such a thing as tattoo-able makeup-- you bet your ass she made an appointment. it hurt like a bitch but it was worth it when she could have perfectly defined dark lips all throughout the day no matter how many coffee cups she sipped from or chicken burritos she sank her teeth into.

at work, sevika had worked her way up so high the ranks that nobody dared to give her shit anymore. and when they did-- she just fired them.

she spent her late 20s dating around. she had a few girlfriends and a lot of flings, but nothing ever really worked for her. it did give her a shit-ton of confidence though.

the more herself she became-- both in her body and in her job and in her bed-- the bigger and brighter her future seemed.

this isn't to say she never had shitty days. she had plenty. some she journaled about, some she cried about, some she boxed about, some she called dr. walsh about. the worst ones she drank about-- though as she was growing up the hangovers were making this one less tolerable.

people are assholes. dysphoria is a fucking asshole. sevika's boss was an asshole. but when she felt close to drowning-- when she felt the grief and sadness and the self-destructive urges creep up-- she just closed her eyes and thought of herself at fourteen-- cooking up a plan to get as far away from home as she could. she imagines herself meeting teenage-sev, telling her all the things she'd come to do, (and all the girls she'd come to do, if you know what i mean, wink wink, nudge nudge) and she imagines how fuckin' proud little emo-acne-riddled-brace-face sevika would be of her.

it works every time.

on her thirtieth birthday, she bought herself a breast augmentation. she loved her tits-- but she just wanted a little more. she wanted to have to wear a bra under her silky button ups, instead of it being optional. but once she got them done she was so fucking thrilled she didn't want to wear a bra under her button ups. (she did, of course, because wasn't trying to cause an hr nightmare at work.)

when dr. walsh died-- sevika was devastated. there were a few months there where she was in complete depression. she made no attempt to find a new therapist-- she took as much paid time off from work as she could, just to sit around her house alone.

but then one night-- sevika swears on her life-- dr. walsh visited her in a dream with a message

'you better get your shit together girl! don't let all my hard work go to waste!'

sevika woke up the next morning laughing and crying, and she was back at work the next day.

she found a new therapist, and she forced herself to make new friends, suddenly aware that the only person in the world who knew her had died.

she started hanging out with some of her more tolerable co-workers, and she was shocked to realize that most of them were... actually pretty cool.

she started taking herself out to dinner-- just her and a book-- just so she could spend more time with herself.

she made it a point to take a vacation once every six months.

and when the ceo of her company stepped down, she was riding on a high. she was feeling good about life, so she decided: fuck it.

and she applied for the open position.

and then she got the job.

and at thirty five, sevika finally felt like she was in her bright future-- not just working towards it.

the night before her first night on the job-- sevika's mind was racing.

there were so many changes she needed to make, so many ideas she had to implement in the company. not to mention the fact that she had to buy furniture for her new office, and find an assistant-- and a good assistant is really fucking hard to come by-- and was she sure she could really do this job in the first place? what if she made a mistake accepting it-- what if she can't handle it--

sevika cut her racing thoughts off, scrubbing her face. she took a second to breathe, then she conjured up little-sev in her mind to give her an update and get a pep talk.

who the fuck are you? little teenage sevika asked, huffing as she had to shove her headphones off her ears.

'i'm you, jackass.'

...woah. we look... hot...

'duh.'

how did that happen?

'moved away, worked hard, got lucky, got rich.' sevika says, watching her younger self's eyebrows rise.

shit... look at our tits!

'i know-- they're great, right?'

fuck yeah. well... whaddya want?

'wanted to tell you we just got promoted to ceo.'

...really?

'yeah. we start tomorrow.'

...us?

'yeah. we're like... kind of a big deal now.'

...woah.

'yeah woah.'

then, just as she's about to drift off to sleep, sevika's mind speaks again.

...soooo... have we met our wife yet?

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#hehehe *enter reader*#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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autismcatboy · 3 months ago

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i hear the sunspot is a story about being human first, disabled second and a bl third. it doesnt flow like a bl and has very brief moments of romance because its not intended to be read/watched a romance.

the mangaka did not write it as a BL because she herself wasnt even familiar with it as a genre until after she started publishing. she was writing a story that just happens to also feature queer romance.

the live drama is not going to end with them getting together. its an adaption of just one series within the story and even at the most current series, they only barely got together.

the story is not unrealistic in how it handles communication (or lack thereof). its a lot easier to judge characters (and people in real life) when you think you have all the pieces, but the reality is we know very little about how others truly feel and when you have a lot going on and pulling you in different directions, its hard to know it yourself.

continued below the cut, spoiler free.

taichi and kohei are busy adults. between work/school, family and personal health, they dont have a lot of free time. many people dont have ways to contact friends they made in school because usually, you just see each other and dont think about exchanging contact information until later.

exchanging contact information is a bigger step to take in japan compared to places like the us. taichi uses a flip phone until hes pushed to get a smartphone after it breaks. data plans are expensive and many are selective about when and how they use them, and chatting apps like line are usually the main form of communication method. many people in the us dont like to give out their number or social media (which is also a feature of line) to people they know, like coworkers or classmates.

theres some pretty big assumptions about japanese culture and what its like to be a young adult by fans watching the drama that, in my opinion, just arent realistic. you're thinking like a bl fan and not like what people actually do in real life.

i hear the sunspot is a story about navigating the awkward, the hardships, fumbling and coming to terms with the things we may not like about ourselves. this isnt just about being disabled. able bodied, fully healthy people have things they dont like, push off and ignore. we see this in taichi, and how he continues to push that hes happy, nothing is wrong, he's just a big goofball and doesn't have anything below the surface and a lot of you have fallen for it.

relationships rarely go "we met, we fell in love, and now we are together and everything is perfect with only mild and entertaining drama." in fact id say they almost never do. people get scared to get close to other people, people dont think about if their feelings are romantic love or not when theyve never considered they might be gay. people get busy and distract themselves from addressing the things theyre not ready to look at and understand. all of these things happen much more often and often subconsciously, too.

people are mean and bullheaded when they feel like their comfort zone is threatened. people *run* when they feel like their status quo might change and they dont know what that will look like.

its easy to say someone is being ridiculous when you dont have their full story or dont stop to consider their circumstances. will it be different from how you'd react? absolutely. you lived a different life and had different experiences shape who you are.

but its equally as ridiculous to assume you know exactly how you'd react better than someone in their situation. no one is perfect, and definitely not 20 something year olds figuring out how to be adults after tough moments completely changed their childhoods. your early 20s, especially, is about thinking youre an adult and realizing just how little you know about adulthood. its easy to look back on when i was taichi and kohei's ages and say "oh there is a /lot/ that i fucked up with and couldve done better".

i hear the sunspot is about being human. the mistakes, the drama, the pain and the laughter. it happens to also have a gay love story but its not written to *be* a gay love story or even to be any love story in the first place.

if youre not willing to wait, and consider all the troubles that come before and during their relationship, this is not the story for you. save yourself the time, its got a long way to go. maybe come back in a few more years and see if the story resonates differently.

theyre not going to dive right into a relationship when they still barely know themselves.

#i hear the sunspot #hidamari ga kikoeru #catboy speaks #long post #ok to reblog

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dontsh0vethesun · 10 months ago

Text

misunderstandings

part five of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

these gays are dumb, glimpses of the past, idiots in love, they’re actually just so stupid, christmas, probably too much dialogue

a/n- ik it’s not christmas anymore but there’s only one more part!! also my christmas was dookie so i’m letting myself take ages on this <3

part one | part two | part three | part four | part six

wc: 3.6k

“I heard there’s an update on the Natasha situation,” Sam smiled, his grin was mischievous and you almost wish you weren’t so attuned to his compulsion to stick his nose into business that’s not his.

“Where’d you hear that?” you answered, directing a pointed look in Wanda’s direction whilst she worked on a coffee order.

“Don’t look at me,” she defended, raising her hands in surrender.

“I’m an intuitive guy,” Sam smirked in return. “I don’t need anyone to tell me, the weird look all over your face is all I need.”

“You need to be this invested in your own life,” you groaned. “Where’s James these days, huh?”

“I’m not falling for that trap,” Sam laughed. “What happened? What’re your feelings? Please tell me,” the man practically begged.

“Fine,” you conceded with a sigh, leaning against the counter whilst there was no line of customers needing your attention. “We bumped into her at the fair last night, that’s all.”

Your dismissive shrug on the topic was not enough to appease him, however, and the faux scowl he addressed you with was enough to let you know that he was aware of your downplaying of the situation.

“Alright, fine,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes. “We talked a little and I’m still confused,” you surmised.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Did she apologise? Are there…butterflies? Give me something,” Sam pleaded. “I need to know whether to give her cookies laced with laxatives or not.”

You laughed at his seriousness - it may have happened a couple of times during high school but you all took an oath of secrecy.

“She didn’t apologise,” you frowned, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible lest you allow your apprehension on the topic to swallow you whole. “She seems different though. I want her, so badly, to be different. But maybe I’m stupid to hope for something - maybe we really just aren’t a good match.”

Sam’s eyes were soft and comforting, his lips parted to speak before another voice piped up opposite you. Kamala had arrived for her daily hot chocolate - extra whipped cream and marshmallows, of course. She takes the promise of free drinks for friends very liberally.

“As someone who’s been trying their hardest to be neutral,” she started. “You did look cute together last night - and the way she looks at you - God, it’s like a real-life rom-com. Kind of gross, actually,” she rambled on. “By the way, I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“You weren’t?” You smirked, eyebrow twitching in question.

“No,” Kamala quickly replied with a shake of her head. “It was just, uh, intuition.”

“Wow, you might have a superpower there, Mala,” you scoffed laughingly.

“Really though, it definitely seemed like there was something there - on both sides.”

“I dunno,” you sighed with an exasperated shake of your head, cheeks flooding with heat at the three pairs of eyes witnessing your bashful feelings towards a certain redhead. Whether you hide it or not, all of your closest friends have developed a certain sense of reading between the lines painfully well. After all of these years, you suppose it’s merely a trait of a strongly entwined bond. It doesn’t make it any less annoying, though.

“At the risk of forcing you into a ‘mushy and embarrassing’ state, as you call it,” Wanda voiced from beside you. “What are you feeling about her now? You were pretty good at avoiding my questions last night,” she smiled with a poke of her finger into your side.

It was a tricky feat for you to let yourself be raw and vulnerable, it never is a comfortable thing. But, with a problem you were struggling to make sense of on your own paired with the sickeningly sweet and supportive smiles directed your way, it was harder to keep it all in than let it out.

“It - it kinda feels like before. Like, no time has passed, y’know?”

“In a good way?” Kamala asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I dunno, it’s like, somehow, all of those things I felt towards her all those years ago had never actually left. Like they were just sitting there in my stomach waiting for the right time to come back out.”

“It kinda sounds like you know what you wanna do then,” Sam smiled.

“I think I might,” you nodded. You tried to smile but the nerves that made their way throughout your body made it difficult and, as though it was written all over your face, your friends seemed to know just what to do to bring that smile out. You were pulled into Wanda’s familiar hug with Sam closing his arms around you from the other side and with some difficulty you were manoeuvred into Kamala’s reach. It was hard not to laugh at the glimpse you caught of her, leaning across the counter, practically kneeling on a plate of cookies nearby as she stretched out to join the embrace.

Whatever happens next, they’ll be there for you.

—

Meanwhile, Yelena sat cross-legged on Natasha’s childhood bed whilst her sister lay on her back with her eyes directed at the ceiling. She could still see the mark left behind from the glow-in-the-dark stickers you’d struggled to plaster up there, ones that had slowly begun to fall down. She’d never had the heart to throw them away and the used and tattered celestials still sat in the drawer of her desk.

“This is exhausting, Natasha,” the blonde groaned. Having been witness to it all from the beginning, watching it all play out as it has has been nothing short of tedious for her. She’s never been patient and this was no different. In her trademark Yelena fashion, she resents the long and drawn-out trail of feelings being muddled up and left behind, she would rather you both get on with it.

“You don’t think I know that?” her sister sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated,” Yelena mocked in a less-than-perfect impression of Natasha’s voice. “What’s so difficult, huh? You’ve always had the hots for her, she’s always ogled you, it’s simple.”

“It’s a little more nuanced than that,” she mumbled. “So much time has passed and I made a stupid mistake. I left her behind, Lena. I just left and didn’t come back - she deserves better than somebody who’d just do that.”

“You were stupid,” Yelena agreed. She didn’t let her role as Natasha’s sister blur the lines between right and wrong, when it came to what she did she didn’t shy away from berating her.

She remembered the evening it happened, the redhead coming home in tears that were a rare sight to see. She held a book in her hand that was soon shoved to the back of her wardrobe to never see the light again; she comforted her sister as best as she could but by the time she’d unmuddled the series of events Natasha was already gone. She’d made plenty of phone calls telling her sister to come and make it right but the fear had sunk its claws in and nothing she said swayed it in her favour.

“I know I was - I know. But, when I saw her that night with Pietro it just looked so real. I think I was looking for a reason to chicken out of telling her, y’know?”

“And letting yourself believe she was already dating someone was easier than her rejecting you,” Yelena nodded. She understood her sister’s reasonings no matter how illogical they truly are.

“Yeah,” she nodded with a sigh. “I mean, she’s so perfect, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d been lucky enough to date her. I saw it, so why wouldn’t somebody else?”

“Okay, I didn’t mean to listen but you know I can’t help myself,” Melina suddenly announced from the doorway. Of course, she’d decided to come upstairs just as a ‘confidential’ conversation was occurring. “You never told me all this.”

“That’s because you’re a gossip,” Natasha groaned, sitting up against her headboard whilst her mother took a seat on the bed too.

“I just like knowing things,” she shrugged. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at the clear excitement on Melina’s face. “So, it was Christmas Eve, the first one after starting college. At that point, it was like we were still in high school, we were all in contact and we were all meeting up on the weekends - nothing had changed.”

“Mhm, I remember,” Melina nodded. “I was scared you were all gonna drift apart, well, until you were the one that separated from them.”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighed with a frown. “So, we were all here and I’d had a lot of time to think. I mean, I was at a different college - she was at the same one as the Maximoff’s - and, it was a lot of time without her. It gave me a lot of time to think about her, it was so different not having her at my side all the time, y’know? So it made me realise that I just had to suck it up and be honest with us both about how I feel about her.”

“I think you two were the only ones not to know,” Melina muttered beneath her breath, earning an agreeing laugh from Yelena.

“Anyway,” she scowled. “I guess it was something I was always trying to avoid. I didn’t want it to ruin the friendship we had but it got so hard to ignore. All of my assignments - the stories I’d write - they all ended up being about her. It was like all of the feelings I tried so hard to ignore were just forcing their way out like they were too big to keep down.”

She took a breath and cleared her throat, blushed at the mere thought of you and let the comfort of her mother’s hand on her arm urge her to carry on.

“I wrote her this story - it seems so silly now,” she scoffed. “It was so cheesy - the kind of thing we’d make fun of - but I couldn’t help myself. I illustrated it and wrapped a red bow around it - it was hideous but I knew it’d make her smile. And, on Christmas Eve, I made my way to where I knew she’d be.

“God, just remembering it is so ridiculous. I don’t know why I let myself get in my head,” she grumbled with a shake of her head. “She was there, sitting in the quiet part of the town square, but she was only there with Pietro. Looking back, I know that Wanda must’ve been on her way but in that moment nothing was logical.

“I stood there, just looking at her for a second. I watched her laugh and I remember being amazed that my heart truly did feel like it skipped a beat - I always thought that was just some cliche until her. And as I stood there just watching, I saw Pietro point to this piece of mistletoe hanging above them. I thought it was funny at first and carried on walking to them but then his hand was on her cheek and in my mind that was enough to make me turn back around. I suppose I thought that, in the time they’d had together whilst I’d been away, they’d - I dunno - realised feelings?”

“Oh, Natasha,” Melina whispered.

“I know. It was stupid - it was probably just some joke but I was so scared. You know I’ve never been the kind of person to wear their heart on their sleeve and that was the perfect out my brain was looking for.”

“You caused yourself so much pain, honey. So much pain you didn’t need because you feared she didn’t feel the same?”

“I suppose so,” she nodded. “I thought that, maybe, if she was happy it was enough. So, I went back to college and left it all behind. I felt awful, I did, but I wanted to keep myself away for both of our sakes. If I wasn’t there, she could get on with her life and I could try and move on. I put all of my focus into studying and then into my work - I found that pushing away all of those things that hurt me would just shield me from coming to terms with things.

“So, the friendship I tried to protect was ruined because of me. Because I was scared.”

“But now? How are things with her this time?”

“I think - I know that I still adore her. And, if she’ll have me, I would want nothing more than to just let her know how I’ve felt for all my life.”

—

Before Natasha had begun to associate Christmas with the ache in her heart, the 24th of December was a treasured occasion.

The group of you had always met up, sneaking eggnog from her parent’s fridge when you were younger, sharing it around with sips from a shared glass around a makeshift fire you’d conjure up in the garden. The cup would be passed around in secrecy and clumsily hidden beneath a blanket when an adult would approach.

As you grew closer, the two of you began to uphold a tradition and for the couple of years leading up to her departure, you’d meet up before the remainder of the group arrived. She’d meet you at the cafe with two hot chocolates in hand and she’d offer you her jacket no matter what; she always did and you always declined but it made your cheeks hot to the touch. She’d always refrain from reaching out to feel the warmth beneath her palm.

You’d walk back to her house taking the long route just to savour one another's company and neither of you would think too much about the hand she’d rest on your back whenever you’d cross the road.

You’d sit beneath the decorated canopy in the middle of town, watching people enjoy the festivities, failing to hold in your amusement when people would slip on icy ground. She’d look up at the mistletoe and swear she’d kiss you beneath the winter sprig one day, that she’d use it as one of her many excuses to press her lips to yours. She would imagine that you’d tell her she didn’t need a reason to kiss you, that she could do it whenever she liked, but she’d find any moment she could to feel your lip balm-coated mouth with the tip of her tongue.

The one year you had forgotten your gloves and, for practicality of course, she linked her hand with yours for warmth and left it there until she was leading you up to her front door. You’d help her mother with preparations for the evening’s party whilst Natasha would smile at the close relationship the two of you shared. And when the rest of the invitees would trickle in, she’d revel in your laugh. The one you’d let out at something Kate or Kamala would say when recounting the goings on of their days and the giggle you’d share with Wanda whilst having hushed conversations in the corner.

…

The last Christmas Eve you’d seen Natasha until this year, was the same as always. You were planning on meeting Natasha at your usual spot, only an hour after leaving the Maximoff twins where they were.

You sat with Pietro whilst Wanda made her way back with a cup of hot tea for herself and a latte for her brother; they were meeting up with Monica and Carol before the annual party and you were waiting with them until it was time for you to go. You’d told them you had some last-minute shopping to do and they bought the excuse - you felt rather smug at your deception and were pleased to keep your tradition with Natasha a secret. It wouldn’t be the same if it turned into a group affair - you didn’t admit that you merely wanted her for yourself. Even if it was for only a couple of hours.

You missed the teasing grin on Pietro’s face when he’d spotted the mistletoe above you and only realised what he was doing when he tugged it from its place and held it above your faces.

“Ew, Pietro,” you’d laughed, shoving him away whilst he faked a warm look your way.

��There’s something I simply must say,” he joked, cupping your cheek with a soft hand. He inched closer and closer whilst you held in your laugh, acting into the joke of a scene he was creating. “I- wow, this is hard to say,” he sighed. “I just need you to know that - that I forgot to get you a gift and just added my name to Wanda’s.”

You gasped before you both laughed.

“That actually better be a joke.”

You waited for Natasha until you got a text saying she was stuck helping her mum and the rest of the evening was sullied with some kind of unspoken melancholy that you could not understand.

…

Two weeks ago, Natasha was called into her editor’s office to be given the task of creating a winter story. She listened to the requirements she was expected to reach; a heartfelt children’s book, the wonder of winter with a happy ending.

It wasn’t something she was overly familiar with anymore. The magic of the season had long left her when she left you and, though she accepted the job, she was unsure of how to complete it. Her books always held a part of her, every story she wrote had a piece of her soul bared throughout the pages.

She’d gone home and began to plan, sipping a glass of red wine whilst her laptop screen remained blank.

After a few days of sitting on the problem she’d been presented with, and a lengthy conversation with her closest friend in New York, she thought it time to visit home. After all of this time away she thought she could go back easily enough, feelings may have been dulled and the town that was the epitome of a winter wonderland would fuel her creativity.

She just didn’t expect to take one look at you and have every feeling she’d ever held for you to come flooding to the surface. It was quite a story indeed.

And, though she was apprehensive at first, she’d found that opening up the warm-hearted part of her that she had forced closed many moons ago was just the spark she needed. She’d found inspiration at home - her true home. She found it with you.

…

Your heart was beating with the buzz of nerves in your chest, stomach swarming whilst your palms grew clammy despite the biting cold that came with the slowly falling snow.

Each step up the Romanoff’s driveway drew you closer to a conversation that made your head blurred. It had taken the entire group of your friends to give you the courage to leave your apartment for this; despite the way it was your decision to confess the feelings that were eating you whole, you were the one holding yourself back.

After much convincing, you bit the bullet to finally let yourself pull your heart from your chest and hand it over. They’d all assured you they were a phone call away no matter what happens.

You almost dared to turn back as soon as your knuckles tapped against the translucent window of the front door; you could see the blurry sight of a Christmas wreath against the glass and you could hear Yelena shout that she would answer the knock.

“Oh, hi,” she smiled as soon as she saw you, taking in your nervous appearance.

“Hi, Yelena,” you returned. “Um, is Natasha here?”

“No, actually,” she answered. “She went for a walk - think she said she might be going to the bar. You might be able to catch up with her if you hurry.”

“Alright, thanks, Lena,” you smiled. “See you tomorrow,” you finished with a wave.

“See you tomorrow,” she smirked, clearly planning to go and conspire with Melina about why you might be looking for her sister.

It wasn’t a particularly long walk, and the few minutes it took only enabled you to think about what you were going to say. You had it planned as perfectly as you could get it, a curated script you hoped she’d conform with. You’d risk making a fool of yourself otherwise, treading with the possibility of letting your butterfly inducing feelings for her get the best of you.

And, when you saw the bar ahead of you it only made your heart hit against your chest even faster. You saw the back of her head through the window, hair plaited and falling against her jacket; somehow, just seeing her, made your steps grow almost up to speed with your heart.

You opened the door into the bustling building, making your way past a few people with the subtle scent of beer lingering in the air.

You saw her before she saw you. The large grin that pulled at her eyes was directed elsewhere, though, and the hug she stood up to take part in was not with you. Her body locked with another woman’s, somebody she was familiar with by the way it lingered. Her cheek was kissed and her smile never wavered and your heart that had been beating so quickly you feared it might explode was now still, sitting in your throat as you swallowed thickly.

They shared large smiles and their hands entwined atop the small wooden table.

You couldn’t see anymore. Your fists clenched at your sides and you left as quickly as you arrived, not sparing a glance backwards. If you couldn’t be with her tonight, you wanted to be alone.

#au: home for christmas #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff

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delulu-with-wandanat · 5 months ago

Text

Objective: Teenage Dreams.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Tags: Pride month, bisexual Wanda, mutual pining, canon divergence, lesbian Natasha.

A/n: My gift before pride ends lol, it a little rushed but uhh... I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. It's kind of a crack fic honestly, just good vibe for ye gays :D (Ps. sorry if there are mistakes I kind rushed this andd it's been a while.)

Summary: It's pride month and Wanda still hasn't made her move. Being the self-proclaimed greatest ally, Y/n and two other decided to give them a push.

On lazy days like these, Wanda usually spends it by reading a book, maybe binge watching some shows. Other times she spends it with her brother, but ever since joining the Avengers, Pietro has made it his ultimate goal to have Steve Roger's physique. He trained almost day and night, honestly Wanda could enter the gym at 9 in the morning finding her brother in the middle of a workout, and by the time she was finished he was still there.

Often time he was also with her best friend, who is now his gym buddy, Y/n Romanoff. Who was just as much of a gym rat as Pietro. Honestly, the amount of time they stare at themselves in the mirror was concerning. She's almost sure she had passed a video on social media featuring them titled; 'How to train like an Avenger'

So nowadays she spends her free time alone, even though she wishes she could spend it with a certain beautiful redhead-

Although it wasn't all that bad. Wanda had found a new fixation to spend her time on. Which was Fanfictions.

Now how does one stumbles upon this... wonderful world you might ask? Well for Wanda it started when she was watching a new TV Show she had recently discovered called, The 100. It was fun until they killed off one of her favorite character, Lexa. Wanda naturally dropped the show in an instant. During one of her rants to one of the new recruits, Kate Bishop then sent her a link leading to a website followed a text that read; "The showrunners might break your heart, but fanfiction authors will be there to pick up the pieces."

And Wanda... Fell down the rabbit hole from there.

At first all she searched was merely about wlw couples on her favorite movies and shows, like that one Supergirl TV show she had been recently watching. Or that one cute show called 'Everything Sucks' that got canceled after one season. Basically any wlw couples she started to like, but couldn't be explored due to the showrunners being a pus-

It didn't matter, she founded the holy-site that held all the stories in the world. Then, when she found nothing else to read there, it lead her journey to... a site that shares the same name as drinking bottle; Tumblr. Minus the 'e'.

The site gave her access to a whole new world and whole lot more stories. It was on this website that she found out there was a whole fandom for the Avengers, and many stories was written about them in different scenarios. Sometimes it was cute, other times it was... questionable-

You can't really blame her, can't you? Her name and the word mommy was basically inseparable on this site.

This was where she learned that people have also been 'shipping' one Avenger and the other. Curiosity got the better of the witch when she started to search herself... and a certain former Russian spy. She was surprised to see how many stories were written about them here. Wanda... may have gotten a little out of hand.

This was her guilty pleasure. Reading stories about her crush and herself in a scenario instead of actually trying to talk to her. Can you blame her though? She was what the internet describes as a 'Loser Lesbian'.

The little voice in her head prefers the word 'Useless Lesbian', which wasn't even accurate as she mostly resonates more with Bisexuality-

"Happy gay month, cus you know you bi and stuff!" Ah there it is, the 'little voice' burst through her door unannounced, causing Wanda to yelp and quickly shut her laptop close to hide her 'shameful' activity.

Wanda glared at the young Romanoff who was carrying 3 different items in his hand and approaching her on the bed. "What the fuck is wrong with-"

"Here, I got you a gay balloon cus it got all the color because it's GAY."

"Y/n-" She reluctantly takes the balloon.

"And I gotchu a vinyl album with that Sweater Weather song cus you Bi." He handed her the vinyl, how thoughtful.

"Ok-"

Lastly, "And I baked you a cake that says, 'BeeEE who yoOOUUu aaRREEE, for YooUURE PRiiiDEEEEeeeEE'" He sang the word off tune.

"Ok- Thank you... Uhm-" She grabs all the items and looks at them with confusion. "This is..." Wanda furrowed her eyes at her friend. "Why- Why did you do this, why are you doing this??"

"You know... Cus you're Bi!"

"I'm well aware of that fact."

"Well my dearest Wanda, in this holy month of June I have a very important mission to accomplish." The young Romanoff suddenly jumps on her bed and dramatically opens his arms as if he was some kind of showman. "I'm gonna get you a woman!"

The youngest Maximoff cringes her face and with a flick of her wrist she knock the soldier off her bed, earning a high pitch scream from him. "First of all, you can't get a woman for yourself how do you expect to get me a girlfriend."

"I have plenty of girls!" He said rather defensively as he sat up on the floor.

"And second, why is this so important to you?"

"What you don't want a girlfriend?"

"I still like guys you know."

He rolled his eyes, "I know that, but you always told me you wanted to try dating girls."

"Not just girls... a girl-" She mumbles.

"What was that?" The man raised a teasing eyebrow.

"Nothing! Now shut up, you haven't answered my question." Wanda said while huffing and crossing her arms.

"Because my dearest friend being Bisexual is one thing, but being bi yourself is just sad-" That statement earned him a rightful pillow thrown at him at full speed. Which he thankfully manages to deflect this time with his reflex.

Wanda then groans and plops on her bed. "You're not going to stop, are you?"

"Nope." Y/n even popped the 'p' to emphasize his point. With a roll of her eyes, Wanda agrees with an exaggerated fine and he joined her on the bed with a grin. "Now, first thing on the list is we need to get you some new clothes."

Wanda hastily sat up looked down at her current outfit and glanced at the mirror in her room. She gave him a stinky eye. "What's wrong with my clothes??" This rude bitch-

"Nothing..." Y/n said rather sassily, "I just... think it might need a little spice is all." Without asking for her permission, Y/n grabs her laptop out of her reach and opens it. "I was thinking we could- WHOAAA..."

"What's- NO!" Her eyes widens in panic has her dirty little secret have been exposed. The witch lunges herself to him only for the young super soldier to hold out a hand to keep her at a distance while staring bewildered at the screen before him. "GIVE IT BACK."

"OH MY GOD???? YOu into this shit?!!" Oh the young Romanoff was having the time of his life. He grinned as he looked at what the story was about, "Natasha Romanoff x Reader? Ohhh ho HO, you really llike her huh-?"

"Y/n I swear to god, GIVE IT BACK." She yelled, Wanda was fucking furious. She already had an annoying brother to deal with, what was she thinking adding Y/n into the mix.

"I want to see your blog." It was like she was seeing red, blood thumping in her brain.

Wanda screeched like a maniac, suddenly overpowering the super soldier. She was practically sitting on top of him wrestling with the now closed laptop, Y/n hugged the laptop close. "Y/N I WILL KILL YOU!"

"I JUST WANT TO SEE!"

"NEVER!" Their screaming was probably heard all over the compound as they wrestle for Wanda's laptop. However, a stern voice stopped their childish fight.

"Enough, both of you!" The two whipped their head to the door to see Natasha crossing her arms and looking at them expectantly. The two scurry off of each other and Wanda made a final yank on her laptop out of his reach. The two stood up like guilty children caught in a fight.

"He took my laptop without permission." Wanda spoke up before Y/n could open his mouth. The look of betrayal on his face brings pleasure to Wanda as Natasha's anger was now directed to him.

"You-"

"Y/n, you know better than to take other people's personal things." Natasha glared at her little brother.

"You're just going to believe her right out of the gate?!" He retorted.

"It's the truth!" Wanda said while hugging her laptop tightly.

"You little snitch-" The super soldier turned to face her challengingly. Before the two were about to enter yet another screaming match, Natasha's stern voice puts them in their place once again.

"You two are acting like children. I have enough of this, Y/n if you don't stop this childish nonsense I'll have you grounded from any missions."

"You can't do that?!" His eyes practically bulge out of it's eye socket.

"I can, and I will." Natasha's death stare easily intimidates him as he quickly mumbles an apology to Wanda. The spy's gaze turned to the witch with soft and caring look, unlike the one she gave to her sibling. "Wanda, if he gives you anymore trouble you let me know ok?"

"Thank you, Natasha." Wanda said shyly, a faint blush visible on her cheek. The redhead smiled at her before giving one last glare to Y/n and left to god-knows-where.

It was so painfully obvious that the two liked each other. Except the only one that fail to realize that is themselves. Operation Scarlet Widow was going to be a lot more difficult than he anticipated, Y/n might need a little backup.

"I seriously don't get why you can't just ask her out instead of reading a bunch of stories-"

This annoying fuck- "DON'T talk to me about that!" She suddenly uses her powers to float him out of her room. "I don't wanna hear about it-" She practically throws him out, Y/n lies on the floor while looking at his friend bewildered. Wanda gave one last glare and shuts the door on his face.

"But-"

"And stay out!" Her voice yelled from inside the room.

Being the annoying friend that he is, he got onto his feet and proceeds to bug the shit out of the witch. Y/n started with those gentle knocks on the door. "Honeyyy-" He teased her.

"Ohmyfuckinggod. Don't call me that!" Wanda yells again. Y/n snickers at her response.

"Wanda, come on..." He knocks again, hearing no response the soldier knocks on the door harder. "You can't hide forever, come out!"

"Jokes on you, I already am!"

"Not what I meant, but ok!" He snickers again, clearly Wanda would not be opening the door anytime soon. He makes his way to the gym to recruit some people who shall help him in this mission.

------

Upon entering the training grounds, Y/n found Yelena and Pietro in the middle of a sparring session. Only these two would spend their Sundays training.

"Dearest Brother, nice of you to join us." Of course Yelena would know it was him, despite having her back facing Y/n.

"Let me know when you want to spar with someone who can actually throw a punch." The soldier said with a smirk.

"Fuck you, Romanoff!" The silver-haired speedster gave him the finger before focusing back on his opponent. "You're the one who's lacking, I thought super soldiers could do this all day?"

Y/n scoffed, "Oh please, I can take you down without breaking a sweat. You rely mostly on your powers."

"Barf, are you going to keep bothering us or join us?" Yelena said with a roll of her eyes, using the distraction Pietro surges forward in an attempt to tackle Yelena. Although she may not have powers, her skills were beyond his years. Using the techniques taught by none other than her own sister, Yelena manages to take down the speedster with ease.

"Hah!" She snorted seeing Pietro with his face on the ground and tapping the floor to announce his defeat. Yelena gets off of him with a smirk on her face.

"Oh come on! If this was a real fight you know you wouldn't stand a chance." The speedster grumbles.

"I'm not denying that, but take that power away and you're just another damsel in distress."

Pietro narrowed his eyes. In the midst of her overconfidence, he uses his powers to knock Yelena on the feet, causing her to fall backwards onto her ass. Normally, her instinct would've kicked in and she would prepare for the fall, but this time Pietro stands in triumph while crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

"Bitch." Yelena mumbles in Russian before dusting herself off.

"Now if you're both finished, I would like to make an offering." Y/n said while putting his fingers together like some menace business man with bad intention.

"You want to steal Tony's car and do a high speed race on the highway? I call dibs on the Mclaren." Yelena spoke up.

"So long as I get the Ferrari-" Pietro chimes in.

"No, but we'll get back into that because I always wanted to try his Audi. What I have is, how would you feel on playing cupid for our dearest sisters?" Yelena only raises an eyebrow while Pietro squints his eyes.

"I am getting sick of seeing them practically eye-fucking each other at the gym." Yelena started.

"Hey, that's my little sister." Pietro said while puffing his chest out playing the overprotective big brother role.

Yelena rolled her eyes, "She's 27 dipshit, and you're only 12 minutes older."

"Still my little sister..."

"Look we can all agree that these two needs to sort out their feelings, and since the two are completely useless as one is an idiot who thinks staring will magically get her a date. And the other has deep traumatic issues where she struggles to have proper relationship due to her upbringing. I'd say, maybe they need a little third party help?" Y/n opens his arms as if to wait if any of the two objects.

"And how do you plan on pulling this off?" Yelena asked.

"I was hoping you might help me figure that out." Y/n threw back the question. Yelena rolled her eyes.

"So you came to us for help empty handed?"

"Well I would argue dedication and sheer will counts for something." Y/n puffed out his chest, he clearly has nothing.

"We don't even know if Natasha likes Wanda back." Pietro chimes in, which earns him a raised eyebrow from the two Russians.

"It's hard to miss."

"Yeah, I can see the oblivious genes runs in the Maximoff's."

Maybe it was less obvious to someone who was not close to Natasha, she was a trained spy overall. And these two were practically raised to be more observant than others. Or that could just be the oblivious Maximoff genes.

"All I know is, Wanda has had this crush ever since she stole Natasha's jacket."

Y/n furrowed his eyebrows at Pietro. "Wasn't that like... a year ago with Ultron?" Yelena barks out a laugh, "You mean to tell me she's been pinning on Natasha for a year??"

Pietro shrugs his shoulders and smirked, "Wanda has bigger pool, but I'm the one getting all the girls."

"Barf-" Yelena said while fake gagging, earning a jab on the rib by Pietro. "If we want a shot for our dearest love birds we have to be quick, cause I'm noticing a certain android having his eyes on Wanda."

"Who, the toaster?" Pietro said while cringing his face.

"Ok... I can see you don't seem so fond of the guy, and Vision's not so bad y'know-" Y/n said, it's not that he was close with Vision. But he didn't understand why Pietro would look so utterly disgusted.

"No, he's not bad. But if this works out, you and I would be brothers for real, y'know?"

Damn... This was true brotherhood. "Bro..."

"Bro..."

The two hugged like it was something out of a bromance movie. Yelena could only watch with her arms crossed, wondering what the fuck was going on. However, while the two gym rats were having their moment, a plan formed in her mind.

-------

The trio sprang into action in an instant, ordering a bunch of pizzas, heading to the city to grab some supplies, thankfully alcohols were already taken cared of.

"Ok! Now we just need everybody here." Y/n said with a satisfied grin whilst taking a shot to give himself a head start. Yelena mimicked his movement and so did Pietro.

"FRIDAY, assemble the team to the common room." The AI gave Pietro the acknowledgement, soon enough the team entered the common room with a confused look.

"What's going on?" Steve was first to spoke up as he looked around the decorated room with food and beverages.

Wanda glances to a certain redhead a few meters away from her, Natasha initially had a bored look on her face, arms crossed, and was probably mentally preparing herself to whatever the hell her siblings had in mind. And it was as if the spy felt a pair of eyes on her she looked to the side and locked eyes with Wanda, instantly, the corner of Natasha's mouth pulled into a tiny smile and a small shrug.

Wanda blushed instantly and turned her gaze to the floor, tucking a hair behind her ear. The trio, saw this and glances at one another.

"Well dearest teammates." Y/n started, taking a microphone and speaking to it as if he was an mc. "Tonight will be the night-"

"What's with the mic, Y/n?" Natasha asked with a roll of her eyes.

"I was getting there," He responded while putting his hand up, "Tonight Is the night we let loose!" He whooped, yet the only one cheered with him was Pietro.

"Seriously?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n scoffed at his teammates, looking at all the low faces and annoyed faces. "Sam! Come on, you're always game." He asked, needing ATLEAST someone to be in it.

Sam sighed, "Man, I would but honestly I was looking forward to sleep early tonight." Y/n looked at him as if his heart had been stabbed.

"Wanda??" He asked his best friend, and Wanda groaned at him. Oh this was a rough start.

"Honestly, I'm in the mood for some me time and not... whatever this is." She replied indicating to the alcohol bottles on the table.

"Sorry kid, looks like everyone is super tired." Steve added with a pity look, "Maybe next time plan things out."

"But that's boring!" Pietro exclaimed, and speeds to every single one handing out a shot glass filled with vodka.

"It's not just any normal drinking night, there's singing involved." Yelena finally chimed in while dunking another shot.

"Yelena, you can't possibly be part of this." Natasha asked her sister, and Yelena shrugged in respond.

"Any reason to grab Tony's alcohol is as good as any." The blonde replied.

Everyone glanced at one another, shot glass in hand, contemplating their decision. "Think of it like a team bonding." Y/n talked again, he cocked his head at Yelena who turns on a song and a familiar tune started playing, a song that would get anyone from any generation dancing (excluding Steve, perhaps). Dancing Queen by Abba.

Y/n had a goofy grin on his face, dancing into the tune, Pietro followed through while Yelena occasionally bopped her head. Sam was the first to grow a grin on his face. Steve, Natasha and Wanda looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's Abba!" The falcon said as a matter of factly, he then downed in shot.

"That's the spirit!" Y/n said excited as Sam danced to his direction.

Hesitantly, cap started to walk forward earning a disbelief gasp from Natasha. "Rogers, really...?"

"I mean, I really did enjoyed Mama Mia...." The American boy said with a sheepish smile.

As soon as the lyric's intro came in, Y/n puts an arm around Steve with a microphone in hand. "You can dance!"

"You can jive!" Sam pulled the microphone to himself.

"Having the time of your life!" Those who were already in the circle sang simultaneously, Natasha rolled her eyes but if you squint you could see a tiny smile there. Meanwhile Wanda shifted closer to Natasha watching the group in amusement.

"See that girl!" Y/n pointed at the two, and the other followed. "Watch that scene, digging the dancing queen." He sang, "Come on dancing queens get in here!"

Natasha shook her head fondly, holding back a smile.

"Wanda, Wanda, I know you want to join us girrlll..." Y/n said playfully to his best friend, the boys and Yelena were beckoning her to join. Natasha looked to her side and true enough, Wanda was biting her lips, contemplating whether or not she should join. "You like this song don't lie! Natasha, help me out." Wanda did in fact like this song.

The way her body swayed subtly to the rhythm, her eyes glinting with anticipation, the only thing that's holding Wanda back was herself. Fuck it, Natasha thought to herself. She then held Wanda's arms and dragged her into the group who cheered when they joined. "Wha- Nat, no I-"

"Come on, little witch." Natasha said, turning to face Wanda and raised her shot glass. "Loosen up a bit."

God, Wanda couldn't decline, especially when her crushed smirked like that. They clinked their shot glass and downed their drinks.

------

As the clock got closer to midnight, the more they drank, and the more they drank, the more chaotic it gets. The song they choose ranges to many different genres, in the beginning Pietro and Y/n mostly sang something boyish, like rap or rock. Then as the two gets progressively drunker they sang something what would be describe as 'Girly Pop'.

Steve sang some old 40s song, which was refreshing especially after hearing Y/n's off tune singing voice. Everybody except Natasha was surprised to hear Yelena singing American Pie wholeheartedly, Natasha even sat next to her and sang it with her briefly.

Although the highlight of the night was probably the time Yelena, Pietro and Y/n sang and dance to the song 'Wannabe' by Spice Girls. Natasha had to hid her face with her hand while Sam was laughing his ass off and leaning to Steve for support. Wanda was like a giggling maniac the whole time as she was secretly recording it for some black mailing material on her twin.

Mid-song, Yelena pulled her brother subtly and pushing a very drunk Pietro forward. "Take it for a spin, Maximoff!"

"So, here's a story from a to z-!" Pietro started rapping his part drunkenly.

"She's not drunk enough." Yelena said to Y/n who was trying to stable himself.

"Yep, the alcohol hasn't hit her yet, and Pietro's not going to be much help-" Y/n covered his mouth suddenly as he felt a vomit, he then answered after seeing Yelena's raised eyebrow. "Sorry- Don't worry I got this, hold a bottle."

"Slam your body down and wind it all around!" Pietro continued singing with Yelena twirling his ass in what this generation would describe as 'slay' manner, Y/n drunkenly sauntered over to Wanda who panicked when he started pulling her to the make shift stage.

"No- No, let me go, Y/n!" Wanda protested.

"Just take a shot and come with!" Y/n practically yanked her and they stumbled over to the middle of the living room. "Cheers!" He said while knocking his glass with hers and Wanda finally relents and knocked back her shot.

"-make it last forever, friendship never ends!" Y/n sang while putting an arm around his best friend, Wanda cringes at the bitter taste of the alcohol, she had a few drinks in already but she was never really fond at the taste of vodka.

"Wanda!" Yelena said, suddenly putting an arm around the her as well. "Oh, honey, you emptied your glass already."

"N-no, Yelena, I just dra-"

"Don't you worry, I got you." Yelena said while pouring her another shot, Wanda's eyes widens. She glances to the side and locked eyes with Natasha who raised a teasing eyebrow at her. "Yes, now we cling!" The blonde haired woman said while raising her glass.

Reluctantly, Wanda clinked their glass awkwardly and took a deep breath before taking another shot. She doesn't know how many shots she have taken from that moment, all she knew was that she felt like dancing.

Natasha watched as Wanda's dance move progressively become more fluid and at ease in contrast to her usual shy self. The spy smiled to herself, dance with her. Natasha shook her head at the impulsive thoughts. At some point during the song 'Teenage Dreams' by Katy Perry, Wanda was handed a mic by Yelena. Thankfully this time Wanda was drunk enough not to refuse, and instead grinned like a goof.

When Wanda sang the second verse, Natasha almost lost her breath because she sounded so... beautiful.

"We drove to Cali and got drunk on the beach. Got a motel and built a fort out of sheets."

Wanda sang with her eyes closed, smile on her face, swaying her body to the rhythm. "I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece, I'm complete." The witch opened her beautiful green eyes just to have a similar looking ones staring right back at her.

Wanda giddily approached Natasha and extend her hand, "Wanda-"

"Come onn, Tasha!" Wanda pleaded. Tasha, well that's new-

Natasha hesitantly looked around, the trio were holding onto each other while slurring to the song, Sam had passed out, and Steve... Well, he gave Natasha a knowing look before helping Sam up to his feet and gave Natasha a look that says 'Don't mess this up, Romanoff.' And walking off with a drunken Sam.

"We can dance, until we die. You and I..." Wanda sang waiting for Natasha to finally grab her hand, finally the spy relents and took the witch's offering hand. "-we'll be young forever!"

Wanda practically yanks Natasha into the middle of the living room.

"You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream. The way you turn me on, I can't sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back!"

The younger woman puts a hand on Natasha's shoulder, swaying her hips while singing the lyrics. Natasha was unsure if she should put her hand on Wanda, keep it to the side, on Wanda's waist perhaps?

"My heart stops." The witch suddenly tilt Natasha's chin so their eyes meet. "When you look at me," Natasha's breath hitched in her throat, "just one touch...." And the rest of the lyrics seems to died on Natasha's ears as all she could see was a drunken state Wanda making her confession crystal clear.

Wanda turned and moved her body sensually against Natasha, without hesitation, the older woman puts a firm hand on Wanda's hips to guide her moves. Wanda shivered when she felt Natasha's hot breath on her ear. "Imma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans." She grabs Natasha's hand and trail it up her body, a silent plea to the older woman to touch her. "Be your teenage dream tonight..."

Fuck... if Natasha had no self-restraint, she would've taken Wanda here and there. "Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans" Wanda turns around to face Natasha again and this time the younger one guided Natasha's hand to rest on her thighs. "Be your teenage dream tonight...."

The song reached it's mini pause. Wanda, almost in desperation and system full of alcohol wrapped her arms around Natasha and leaned in til their nose was touching. "I want to kiss you so bad..." She whispered.

"I-" The redhead was at lost for words, her eyes looking deep into those beautiful green eyes, searching for any signs of hesitation. Blown pupils were looking right back at her, slowly it travels down to Natasha's lips. Fuck this.

As soon as the song started again, Natasha gently cup Wanda's face with one hand and pulled her into a soft kiss. Oh Wanda's heart could explode right about now, for a second her mind became stone-cold sober so it could remember this moment properly. Wanda drops the microphone she was holding and puts her hand on the older woman's cheeks, using her thumb to caress her soft delicate skin.

"You make me, Feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream The way you turn me on, I can't sleep Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back."

The two women were now lost in their own world, they failed to notice the cheers from their own respective (very drunk atm) siblings. Wanda was taller than Natasha, but she went on her tippy toes and wrapped her slender arms around the spy. Natasha craned her neck a little, smiling into the kiss, her arms securely on (her) the little witch's waist.

"My heart stops, when you look at me. Just one touch, now baby I believe this is real. So take a chance and don't ever look back."

Wanda felt like she was on cloud nine, feeling Natasha's soft lips on hers. Oh those sweet plump lips she's been day dreaming about for months, honestly, she felt like the main character in a movie. A teenager if you will in a coming off age movie, is this what Simon felt like from Love, Simon? The song was quite spot on, as Natasha made her feel like a teenager once again, or at least what she assumes a teenager would feel. She never really got to properly enjoyed her teenage years, but here she is. With the woman of her dreams.

"We're siblings for real!" They finally broke the kiss after hearing a drunken Y/n made the statement, arms on both Yelena and Pietro who were just as equally drunk as him. Pietro mimicked his sentence, and Yelena only nodded her head while occasionally raising her glass. Natasha and Wanda shared a look as they held each other, the spy snorted while her counterpart giggled at the scene.

It seems like the trio had put Katy Perry's song on shuffle, because the beat to 'Last Friday Night' started playing.

They started chanting "We did it!" matching their words to the tune of the song, the two couple shared a look.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Natasha asked, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, please." Wanda replied shyly before being dragged out of the living room by Natasha.

-------

The witch woke up groggily on her bed, her eyes needed time to adjust to the light that were peaking into her room. She groaned and fell back onto the bed with a thud, shielding herself from the light like a vampire allergic to it. "Ugh... what did Yelena put in my drinks." She grumbles.

All of the sudden everything came rushing back into her memory like a tidal wave. I kissed Natasha...

She hastily sat on her bed and looked around. She remembered they kissed, but... how did they end up here. Wanda remembered Natasha asking her to move out of the living room, oh my god did we slept together? The witch's face started to match her battle suit as she thought of the possibility, wish I could've remembered.

Her throat felt dry so she decided to grab herself some drinks in the kitchen. And to her surprise, Natasha was already there. Humming to herself and cooking breakfast, Wanda let in a sharp breath at the sight. Of course, being the trained spy that she is, Natasha greeted Wanda without having to turn around.

"Good morning, Wanda. Slept well?" Natasha asked kindly.

"I don't know how you do that." Wanda muttered.

The spy chuckles to herself, "What I was trained for, little witch. I already put a glass of water for you by the table. Bacon and eggs alright?"

Wanda glanced at the table and surely enough Natasha already prepped a big jug of water and a glass for her. "Oh thank you, you're a godsent..." The younger woman took a seat and dawned her water, and then also her second glass of water.

Natasha walked by her and set a plate for both herself and Wanda. "What a night was it?" She said with a hint of tease.

The brunette only nodded her head while drinking her water like it was the last one on earth. She dropped her glass with a sigh of relief and glances at Natasha, a faint blush appeared on her cheek almost immediately. Wanda cleared her throat before answering, "It was, thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome." She replied simply, her body still angled a little to the side, one arm propped on the head of the chair whilst staring intently at Wanda.

"Natasha, I..." Wanda started, oh god suddenly her throat feels dry again. The spy gave a small nod, urging her to continue. The younger woman started fidgeting with her finger. "I don't regret it," Wanda finally looks at her. "Kissing you, all of it, I don't regret any of it."

A smile tugged the corner of Natasha's lips, but before she could answer, Wanda started rambling on.

"B-but it's ok if you don't feel the same. Or that it was just a heat in the moment kind of thing."

"Wanda, relax." The older woman put a gentle hand on Wanda, she inhaled sharply at Natasha's action. "Listen... I'm no better at this. However, if your interested, I would like to take you out on a date." Natasha smiled at her, oh god, Wanda's heart was beating a mile minute. Wait, wait, she said date?

"I- Yes, I would love that." Wanda averted her gaze, the intensity of Natasha's green eyes was too much. The sheer intensity of the spy's gaze could turn her into a puddle of mess.

"Good, I've been dying to try this restaurant." Natasha said while turning her body now to face her breakfast, she took one bite of the bacon before continuing. "I hope Southeast Asian cuisine isn't too spicy for you." The spy said teasingly.

"Oh please, you underestimate me." Wanda responded with a slight bump of their shoulders, yet a question still lingers on her mind. "Hey uh... Sorry, I was just wondering. Did we uh... do anything?"

"What do you mean? We kissed." Natasha answered cluelessly.

"Yeah, but I remember you took me to my room. I couldn't remember anything from there, so... I was just wondering if we did anything." Wanda asked, her voice progressively gets more timid the more she explains.

"Hmmmm, like what? Watching a movie?" The spy said while looking up to the ceiling as if deep in thoughts, small smirk on her face.

"Tasha, stop messing around." Wanda said with a playful eyeroll.

"Tasha, huh? That's new." She continued to teased her little witch. Wanda playfully pouted her lips, of course Natasha couldn't help but give in to that. "Don't worry, little witch, nothing happened. I took you to your room, we made out for a little bit and before you finally fell a sleep in my arms. It was a adorable." Natasha added the last bit with a shrug and a smirk.

Wanda's face got increasingly red, "Ugh..." She groaned at hid her face in her hand. "I'm sorry."

"Don't hide that pretty face, as I said, it was adorable." Natasha pried away Wanda's hand, the witch relents and was greeting with a fond smile from Natasha. One she rarely saw, god she's so fucking beautiful.

And unfortunately for them, it had to be ruined by the trio... Again.

"Ughh.... my head-" Y/n groaned.

"I feel like skipping gym today." Pietro chimed in.

"Keep up." Yelena responded with a bored tone. She was sweating, probably went on a run.

Wanda and Natasha mentally cursed at themselves and returned to their own respective breakfast. The trio rummages through the kitchen, finding cereals and bowls, Yelena opted for an apple instead. They sat down across Natasha and Wanda, Y/n was first to point out the obvious of course.

"So...?" He asked them excitedly.

"So what?" Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

Only for him to raised his eyebrow right back, "Did you guys shag?" Yelena piped in, Pietro groaned.

"No, don't answer that-" The older Maximoff covered his ears while Wanda shrunk in her seat.

"I'll take that as a yes!" Y/n yelled excitedly.

"First of all, we didn't." Natasha said firmly, "And second, I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Oh, but it is." The redhead narrowed her eyes at him, but it was too early to deal with her brother's antics.

"Look whatever you saw, zip it." Natasha stated, "I personally want to keep this under wrap, if this goes out to the press they're going to have a lot of questions and I don't want to deal with that."

"I'll second that." Wanda muttered, casting Natasha a grateful look to which the older woman smiled in response.

Y/n scoffed, "Whatever, I'm great at keeping secrets. Beside, I'm just glad the whole sexual tension can now be resolved-" He shuts up immediately upon seeing Natasha's glare.

After a few minutes of silence and eating their breakfast, Y/n's phone notification started going off like crazy. "Oh, Piet I think one of our videos got viral."

"Where let me see." Pietro leaned over to take a look, and upon opening the app, their eyes quickly widens. "Why would you upload that?!"

"I didn't! I must've- Fuck..." Y/n panicked, and by that, really panicked.

"What's going on?" Natasha asked.

"Nothing!" The two men said simultaneously, fuck... if Natasha finds out they're screwed. However, before they could delete the evidence, Natasha snatched the phone from her brother's hand. Wanda leaned closer to take a look and gasped. Yelena only snorted and excuse herself as she had an idea where this was going.

It was a footage of them, kissing, wrap up in each other's arms, lip tight in a passionate lock. Fuck, Katy Perry was right, Pictures of last night ended up online and they were screwed. "Y/n..." Natasha said warningly.

Without a second thought Y/n dashed away from the table with Pietro who zooms past him with his superspeed.

"I'll fucking kill you both!" Was Natasha's last word before hunting them down one by one.

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burninglesbian · 1 month ago

Text

Okay so here is my personal review for venom 3 (no professional review, merely rambling thoughts).

Spoilers down below:

I have mixed feelings about this one. It's not the best one of the trilogy. Movie bros hate it but it's a venom movie, what the hell did you expect, dude? I have my issues with it but I enjoyed it more than the average person.

Pros:

-I like the action. It was tense and the first two acts were creative with the concept of Venom not being able to transform entirely.

- I liked the trashy jokes as did I in all the other movies.

-The xenophages were amazing, I loved them. Every POV shot of them and every time we saw how agressively they switched into kill-mode as soon as they found Venom was blood chilling. *Muah, chefs kiss* They were truly terrifying and brutal and I want to see more.

-I liked some of the film making and cinematography.

-Venom's face was so expressive in this one and I couldn't help but laugh and melt from adorableness.

Cons:

-While I totally understand and support killing off your favorites, the way they did it with venom rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn't emotional enough and Eddie didn't seem to be as wrecked by it as he should have. He should have screamed and cried out for him, for heavens sake!

- Also it felt a little too queerbaity but I don't know how much was from the script and how much was cut. It feels like a lot of gayness had been cut. For example the helicopter scene? It definitely feels like there was an "I love you" that had been removed after the longing stares.

- Some of the choices were questionable. The dance montage was non-sensical. Venom was terrified to be found by the xenophages that he avoided transforming at all cost. Why would he make an exception because he really wants to dance? I know, it was Dancing Queen by ABBA and he's gay but he could dance by controlling Eddie's body or just dance with his tentacles.

-I also didn't care about the scientist plot. When you have these two silly idiots and their silly road trip story I don't want that to be interrupted by scientist drama.

Other points I have that were neither pro nor cons and are merely just ranting of my tiny human brain:

-Christmas scientist lady and blonde scientist lady are lesbians, you cannot tell me otherwise.

-I adore that the Xenophages are called "she". We stan a terrifying monster hunter queen. I support women's rights and women's wrongs.

- Now that I have seen so many symbiotes I can confidentially say that Venom is the prettiest one. Clean skin? Check. Big eyes? Check. Symmetrical face? Check. A true beauty in every way.

-Eddie wears his Hawaiian shirt for 75% of the movie and this is the best idea they every could have done.

Overall I enjoyed myself and I was entertained which is the only thing you need from the Venom movies but it's far from the best of the trilogy and it left me wanting more from what we have got. The film bros hate it and I never want to be associated with film bros so I will loudly say that I liked the movie. I also have an alternate version of the movie franchise in my mind that follows some of the same plots but changes it so every movie would actually be good. If you want to hear more of that feel free to tell me and you might motivate me in writing a VERY LONG fanfiction or merely ramble everything into one big textpost (in my head it would be 5 movies instead of 3)

Thank you for reading if you've gotten so far. Peace out.

#venom the last dance #venom the last dance spoilers #vtld #movie review #eddie brock #venom #symbrock

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fairyycoffin · 4 months ago

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100 FOLLOWERS EVENT

welcome to my fairytale (such a magical word, isn’t it?). i’ll begin by saying thank you to 100 beautiful fools for keeping me company and being wonderful people. this is how i want to celebrate your existence!! you know those scenes in disney movies where an ancient-looking book is flipped opened dramatically to reveal, in a swoopy, golden font:

once upon a time…

that’s what i want you to envision. shall we begin?

close your eyes, my dear. the air smells of strawberries and freshly printed pages and cosmic dust. let your eyes adjust to the light. you might see a castle, or a field of wildflowers, or perhaps the flash of lightning. it is, after all, your story (this is merely for artistic license, i’m in complete control of how this is going to go but i find the illusion of choice to be rather comforting). regardless, this world is full of mystery and magic. don’t be shy!! welcome to my kingdom!!

for anyone entering the kingdom

feel free to drop one or more of the following emojis in my ask box (i don’t bite):

🌹- i’ll assign you a fairytale trope

🎶- i’ll send you a song that you can frolic in a field to; it works wonders for the soul

🐞- i’ll bombard you with cute animal pics

🌷- i’ll give you a compliment (that you absolutely deserve!!)

🥀- i’ll read your tarot for you

for my lovely, lovely mutuals

🧚‍♀️- i’ll write you a handwritten platonic love letter (i’d actually love to do this)

💐- i’ll make you a playlist that tells a story

🍓- i’ll write you a fairytale of your choice

🪺- i’ll infodump about fantastical flora and fauna

🦊- i’ll tell you what you remind me of

🌻- i’ll make you a mood board

your journey in this realm is complete, but never fear. there is so much left for you to discover, if not here then elsewhere. have some tea, darling.

thank you for sharing this with me! i love you all so much!

“i only ask to be free, the butterflies are free.”

npt some of you:

@bleep-bloop-boo @nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @nickbutnodick @nopesjsgwhqgsx @creature-from-unknown-orgins

@i-eat-so-much-grass @mybedroomceilingsbored @that-dam-heartstopper-fan @th3-st4r-gur1 @daydream-of-a-wallflower

@strawberryapologist @dandelionflowery @agentwaffle @gay-little-isopod

@bassguitarinablackt-shirt @clearcloudlesssky @ch3rry-t0mat0 @rapidlydecayingcorpse

@catinasink @marylily-my-beloved @kennetea @catholickedd

@honeii-puff @some---weirdo @a-wondering-thought @littlebookworm69 @literatureisdying

am i missing anyone?

link to my intro post:

#100 followers celebration #my cheesy little appreciation event #<3 #i actually adore how this turned out #please as always be kind

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inkdemonapologist · 9 months ago

Note

Thoughts on the BatIM books not being canon?

Originally typed up an answer based on the one TheMeatly tweet about creators being given “freedom to make things their own” when telling stories in their world, and that the games decide the canon. I thought that “the books aren’t canon” would be a bit of a reductive takeaway from that – like, I read it as the idea that the books don’t determine the canon, and aren’t beholden to some grand future plan to make sure they fit with the games, so they aren’t a trustworthy predictor of what’s going on in the games and in the case of contradictions, the games win. Like, the books can’t be counted on for theorycrafting, but that doesn’t mean Buddy or Abby are “noncanon” Bendy characters – just that they’ll never intersect with the games. But recently Mike Mood tweeted that “if it’s in a book, it’s not canon” pretty directly, so I guess Adrienne has just been writing a Bendy AU all this time??? Lmao.

I still think this is sort of not surprising after BatDR. Before BatDR actually came out, I was advocating pretty enthusiastically for little references to book characters – I know this was sort of controversial at the time, because people were worried about the idea of making the books “required reading” and references you don’t get if you don’t READ UP ON THE LORE – but I don’t think this would be necessary. If you give Dot an audiolog that’s like “I may just be an intern here in the writing department, but even I can tell there’s something fishy going on. I’ve got to investigate. Wally’s always losing his keys in [hint for the player], I bet I can find them” then if you’ve never read the books, that audiolog tells you everything you need to know, isn’t tangled up in any Book Lore, introduces the character as if she’s new, while also being a fun chance for the book readers to be like YOOOO MY GIRL IS HERE. Even just a schedule that says Joey has a meeting with Abby Lambert, or Ms. Lambert’s name on a desk somewhere in the art department, or a couple of animation cells on desks with characters from Crack-Up Comics, would be a fun wink to the book readers EVEN IF you want the canon to not be tied up with the books. Heck, you’ve got the non-audio-log memos in this game, you wouldn’t even have to give book characters a canon voice.

But, when BatDR had NOT ONLY no acknowledgement of the books, but also….didn’t even seem to be going in the same direction? I think the writing was sort of on the wall --

-- the people writing the games aren’t taking the books into account and the books aren’t going to be referenced here. The only question was whether the books were written with the plans of the games in mind and… I’m gonna be real. The idea that the Bendy franchise doesn’t really have Plans as such and so the books are just guessing and theorising, but the games reserve the right to go off in a completely different direction if they want to is, uh, not that surprising either. Bendy and the Ink Machine has never really seemed like a thing that had a grand plan, to me, it was just fun to pretend that it did – and then when the books were actually GOOD, it sold the idea of trying to puzzle that world together even more.

So there’s a cynical part of me that’s annoyed about this being mentioned now, you know, after 3-4 different books have been purchased by fans who were interested in learning some lore while waiting for BatDR, and now that BatDR’s out it’s like “oh, well, we’ve never felt this was CANON canon” when before it wasn’t really sold that way. If this has “always” been true, then all the “is Joey gay” questions could’ve been so easily dodged by admitting that the books were doing their own take rather than determining canon, but that fans are free to accept that interpretation. Adrienne answered one AMA question about what would become of Dot in a way that implied she didn’t know, as if she’d created this character who now existed in the world and it was up to the creators of that world to determine her fate. All of this combined with that one clarifying tweet about how EVERYTHING IN THE ORIGINAL BATIM IS STILL CANON before BatDR’s release creates the picture of intentionally selling on original BatIM’s love of theorycrafting and lore-collecting because that’s what would keep fans engaged. Either they were carefully Not Mentioning that the books aren’t canon during a time when they needed the books to sell, or the decision to treat books as “noncanon” is more recent than TheMeatly claims.

But despite my complaining, I do think this is like… wise. BatDR makes it clear that writing a Mystery With Deep Lore isn’t really what they want to do with this franchise now, if it ever was, and so now that BatDR has done reasonably well they can go ahead and admit it. If they want to be able to just hand a comic project to some comics people and not have to collaboratively run every design through their own art department to make sure it’s one they’d be willing to use in the games if that character ever appears, then it’s nice to go ahead and tell fans point blank that these designs are an interpretation by a third party, not The Canon, and should be treated as such. I think it’s not a bad way to run things, to give these other creators freedom to do their own thing with the material.

But, well, as for me and my feelings… I liked the books. I got into this franchise backwards, from a fansong and fanfiction that made me care about characters from a game I’d neither played nor watched, and then finding the concept of Sammy’s ink addiction in DCTL compelling even if I’d only heard bad things about DCTL at the time – I started writing Taste of Ink in hopes of getting this out of my system so I could move on, haha. And then Illusion Of Living came out, this incredible picture of everything I wanted from the franchise, and unfortunately nothing else has ever quite measured up. Maybe that makes sense; a lot of Bendy fans had a hard time getting through TIOL. I think I wanted a different franchise all along, and back when there wasn’t any new content in the True Game Canon, it was easier to play out the thing I wanted in the leftover ruins of this one. But then the original creators came to restore those ruins, and it was a cool thing they built, but it wasn’t anything like the ruins I’d had so much fun in anymore. I’m… genuinely proud of how much I contributed to this fandom, and so thrilled that people have enjoyed what I made here. If you weren’t following me a couple of years ago I really do recommend looking back through my blog because I made A LOT OF CONTENT………. Early on I got an ask of “does ur back hurt from carrying the entire bendy fandom,” which obviously I couldn’t post because there were definitely other creators carrying it with me, but tbh there were very few of us back when I fell face-first into this obsession and I have to admit that ask gives me some warm fuzzies to this day, haha. Like, there was a little stretch of time when the version of BatIM that I imagined helped to keep the fandom afloat! But it, like the books, was never the direction that the franchise was going to go. The BatIM I loved was was collectively dreamed into existence by people who found that game’s premise compelling.

I still love Bendy. I don’t think I ever will stop. This franchise made such a huge impact on me for reasons that are still KIND OF MYSTERIOUS LMAO. I still care a LOT about this world and these characters, but I don’t know if I’ll make much more canon-adjacent fanstuff here. Cthulhu AU is giving me the human batim content I crave and several of the AUs I’m involved in have sort of become their own thing. Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to capture whatever it was in BatIM that took over my brain so intensely for more than 3 years, but I don’t know if I’ll find it in the franchise anymore.

#i know you have questions you always do #bendy saltposting

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aeligsido · 2 months ago

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[WM — September 2024] Prompt 6 — Time-Turner.

Rating: G.

TW: none.

Characters: Remus Lupin, Seren Lupin (OC), Mary Macdonald, Sirius Black (in the haunting-the-narrative kind of way).

Additional Tags: actor Sirius Black; celebrity Sirius Black; trans Remus Lupin; past trans male pregnancy; Mary and Peter are great friends I just need to say it; modern au; actress Seren Lupin but she’s just starting; Seren as a wolfstar baby except Sirius doesn’t know she’s his (or Remus’s for that matter).

Summary: Seren Lupin gets the lead role for upcoming coming-of-age movie Time-Turner.

Words count: 975.

A/N: Heya! I dropped this au in @impishtubist askbox some time ago and since it refused to leave my brain I'm now forced to write about it idk. I’ll write Sirius and Remus’ first meeting (in twelve years) for a later microfic I think lmao. Hope you like it! 💕

@wolfstarmicrofic

read on ao3.

Remus is worrying himself sick, pacing alone in the kitchen, opening and closing the fridge to make sure the cake is still here, getting the glasses out, putting them back in, starting making tea, forgetting it halfway through the process. He should have joined them after work, but he was too stressed and too scared of somehow destroying Seren’s chances.

It’s her last audition today. Some sort of chemistry test? To see if she gets along with the other actors? It all made sense when she was excitedly telling him about it yesterday again, but it’s like his brain is mush now.

The door opens, cutting him down from his own spiral, and Remus perks up, more stressed out by the whole affair than his daughter ever was.

“Dad! Dad! I got it!”

Seren appears in the kitchen, grinning like the little gremlin she is, teeth out and her brown curls slipping free from the careful braid Mary pushed them into this morning. Her eyes, a circle of dark brown cascading into a warm grey, are shining with delight and joy, and Remus finds himself breathless with love — just like almost twelve years ago, when they put this small, red, squealing baby on his chest with a congratulation.

His daughter jumps into his arms and he laughs in tandem with her. “That’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” He lets her free, just enough to put his hands on her cheeks and look at her in the eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

She beams with the force of a thousand suns.

“Thanks! It was so cool, and, oh, you’ll never guess who’s gonna play my dad in the film! And Mister Dumbledore said that we could get a TV show too!”

Albus Dumbledore, one of the most acclaimed film directors still alive, with so many successes behind him — yet so eccentric you could never guess what he will go for next. After a blockbuster about a young crowds of vigilantes saving their world from tyranny, a rather depressing story about a young orphan in the middle of WWII becoming the oppressor, and a passionate but tragic gay romance at the end of the 19th century, a coming-of-age children story is right on par for the course. Time-Turner, as it’s called, will follow a young girl — played by Seren, his own daughter! — discovering her time travel power, while dealing with her mother’s recent demise.

Which makes the father of the heroine the other lead of the film, and someone Seren will have to spend a lot of time with. Remus hopes he’s a good person. Someone nice, who wouldn’t be put-out by her unlimited energy and her never-ending supply of questions.

“So?” he asks as Seren stops talking to take a breath. “Who will play your dad?”

She grins, more excited even than before. She has always looked more like him, in general, with more elegance in her traits and grace in her body than he ever possessed. But like that — oh, like that, she looks just like…

“Sirius Black!” she yells, bouncing on her feet, and she can’t help but do a little, victorious dance.

“That’s great,” he says, croaks out more than anything, and smiles as wide as he can, drowning the drumming of his heart and fear as much as he can. “Why don’t you call your grandparents to tell them the news?” He checks the time. “And your uncle Peter? He should be out of work by now.”

Seren nods and babbles some more and disappears toward her room. Mary, who was standing silently near the door the whole time, finally comes around.

Remus starts busying himself with tea. It’s easier than thinking through his rising panic.

“So,” says Mary, because of course she cannot not say anything. For a brief second, Remus wishes Peter had been the one disponible today — he would have judged silently but not said anything, him. “You never told us Sirius Black is Seren’s father.”

He groans. His face hits the table and he considers staying here forever.

“No one knows,” he finally mumbles. “How did you even guess?”

“He was here today.” She ponders her words an instant. “They’re a lot alike.”

“But he doesn’t—” He stops himself, but Mary has known him since they were kids. She can read him too easily.

“I don't think he does.”

Remus sighs. It’s not ideal; it was already not great when Sirius Black was Seren’s idol, but it will be worse now that they’re in contact. Now that he will be in her life.

“Do I ask how it happened, since you didn’t tell me at the time, or are we doing that later when you can get drunk?”

“Second option,” Remus immediately answers. He can still remember, after all those years, how Sirius kissed him like he was important, the warmth of his hands on his body, the softness of his hair— But they had basically been strangers to each other, several hook-ups to escape boring parties resulting in Remus's panic at his sudden pregnancy and a total loss of contact. And now— Now he has so much to lose.

“I’ll call Peter,” Mary nods sagely. Then, after a beat of silence, “it will come out at some point, you know.”

“I doubt it,” he mutters, prays. “It’s not like he’ll remember me, anyway.”

How could an acclaimed actor, known all around the world, remember a random waiter he slept with twelve years ago? Remus didn’t impact his life the way Sirius impacted his. He’ll never regret it, of course — Seren is the most precious thing in his life, and all the moments preceding her existence were pretty great too — but it's not like Sirius would want to have anything to do with them, anyway.

Remus can at least try to speak it into existence.

#my writing #my fic #hp #wolfstar #challenge #remus lupin #sirius black #mary macdonald #yes remus... keep believing sirius won't remember you lmao

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lilyrizzy · 9 months ago

Note

For the writing promot: yell 👀

The beginnings of a lesbian maxiel story bc…why not! cw: creepy straight guys & their slurs

“You two should kiss.”

It’s not the first time strangers have asked this of her and Max. It’s always guys too, hung up on the fantasy of two gay women being in the same room as each other, how it must mean they are entitled to a free show.

Daniel blames Pornhub and the videos she used to get herself off, hidden underneath her teenage bedcovers. All before she knew any better, before she knew where to find the stuff made for women.

Now, she just laughs like the good natured girl she is, while Max shoots the guy a death glare he can’t see.

The air of the bar is damp, sticky like you could cut it with a knife if you tried. Each breath she pulls into her lungs tastes a little like the tequila she’d merrily accepted and Max had refused, brought by the same assholes trying to hold their attention now. She might be a millionaire, but she’s not about to turn down free booze.

There are two of them this time, nicknamed Cocky and Cockless in her brain. She’s not going to bother remembering their names when she’s sure they know nothing about her beyond that she is a woman, a race car driver and bisexual.

“Maxy here isn’t my type,” she half shouts over the stready thrum of bass that is vibrating the floor underneath her feet. “As cute as she is.”

She shoots Max a wink, but it only has Max’s expression darkening and her eyes narrowing, all while Cocky, perched in the stool between them, grins. Cockless, stood besides Max, tries to get her attention by tugging at her elbow. She shrugs him off firmly, then harder when he tries again.

True to his name, Cocky is bolder. He leans further into Daniel’s space, not at all hiding his attempts to look down her top.

“I thought all the pretty girls were into the butch ones,” he says, a grin on his face as his eyes flick back up to hers, like they are in on this joke together. Like it’s not being made at both her and Max’s expense.

His words press against the same bruise that has been blooming across her chest since the day Max joined their team. Raw talent in the car and all cool confidence once you dragged her away from it. Everything Daniel both wanted and wanted to be.

It’s too much, too close to the bone, the same way the hand that comes to rest on her leg is, big and clammy, engulfing her kneecap.

“Daniel,” Max says, something deliciously demanding in her voice, like she wants this man’s hands away from Daniel’s body as much as Daniel does.

Daniel can’t make herself look at her, afraid she’ll give something away.

“Not me,” she forces past her teeth brightly.

Cockless has given up with Max, is instead flagging down a bartender to order another drink. Cockless, who seemingly only has eyes for Daniel, keeps laughing.

“And what is your type then, sweetheart,” he asks, and the condescension in the pet name is all it takes for her decide she’s done playing nice.

He’s running his fingertip of the hand not touching her across the rim of his glass. She’s sure he thinks is sexy, but in reality looks fucking stupid. She keeps the smile on her face and makes sure all her teeth are showing when she answers.

“Someone with a big cock,” she says sweetly, letting her eyes drag over his form. “But it looks like I’m not finding that here either.”

Finally she looks at Max who is still hovering at Cocky’s shoulder. Nodding at her, Daniel stands, shoving the creeps hand from her skin. Max doesn’t need words to know they are leaving, and instead simply follows as Daniel leads them away from the bar and back towards the teams booth booth. It’s filled with the foul mouthed Red Bull mechanics they call friends, that at least pretend not to imagine them fucking at all hours of the day.

“Hey!” The Cocky calls to their retreating back, and his sweaty fingertips slide against the bare skin of her shoulder for just a second as he reaches to stop her.

She turns, ready to tell him to fuck off, only to find Max already in his face.

“If you touch her again, I will break all of your fingers,” she tells him, like a promise. “And shove my cock down your throat.”

Cocky backs off, hands in the air as he mumbles something about, fucking dyke bitch.

Daniel hardly hears him over the pounding of her heart, the clenching of her cunt.

#ofc max has the big strap Daniel wants and needs;)#but more on that next time….#max/daniel #written for Lorna for being so brave today #fic

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ezgee-badally · 1 year ago

Text

“Break Me Please”

A softer story to cleanse my palate a bit. This started as a short post but I am a writer so it turned into this lol.

18+ Trigger Warning: Light Homophobic language

Original Post: I Need some overzealous politically active uppity dyke in my town to discover my small but growing kink blog and try to blackmail me….

She and I have been fighting over the right way to respond to hate speech at pride events. I wanted to get the input of the community first, organize counter protesters and arrange for security and safe rides home. You wanted to act right away. Go get some people together and slash their tires and graffiti their homes. You’re mad at me after a debate between the two of us got particularly vicious. You search and dig for anything you can use to get me to back down, and you hit the Jackpot.

While rubbing yourself and going through your sapphic porn blogs before bed one night you go to block some dykebreaking blog that ended up in your feed. But the writing looks so familiar. You read a few more of my posts and start to DM me. After a few days you offer “Talking to you has been really fucking hot, if you tell me your name I’ll record myself screaming it out while I cum.”

I give you a fake name.

You start to lose it. “Cut the shit I know who you Fucking are I have your number in my phone.”

“Then text me.” I say.

You prove who you are and that you know who I am. I refuse to talk about it anymore through DM. You invite me to your place to discuss terms.

“Shut it down and quit volunteering. If I hear you’re trying to break any dykes ever again I’ll expose you for the pig you are.” She says as I scan the area. Nice house, if a little messy.

“No.” I say, and I stand up. “In fact I think I know why you didn’t just tell everyone in the first place whore.”

You instinctively back up a pace. “What are you talking about?”

You pull out your phone. You prepare a quick email and show your thumb hovering over the button. “Touch me and I’ll hit send.”

I walk towards you slowly, I grab your wrists and push you against the wall, your phone drops from your hand and clatters to the ground. I stare deeply into your eyes for a long moment before kissing you deeply and passionately. You kiss back surprising me. And we have a long, near-violent make out session. When I pull away to bite and kiss your neck I can hear the mixture of animal lust and self loathing in the soft involuntary moans between breaths. I can feel your body cede control to me and you stop resisting me pinning you to the wall. I release one of your hands from my grip and go to gently fondle your breasts, then move to start tracing my fingers around your areolae before pinching and tweaking your nipple with my finger. “Fuck you have nice tits dyke.” I say in a breathy whisper.

You push me away and slap me, it’s like you came out of a trance. “Fucking pig, get away from me. I like girls, you can’t turn me.”

I look you up and down with an animal lust in my eyes. “Then stop me. Say no, do something about it.” And I kiss you again, you can’t help but think about how my rough thick tongue would feel against your clit… you pull away and spit in my face resisting your own primal urges. “Pig, I’ll never let you fuck me.”

I wipe the spit from my face, and I shove my hand down your pants with one hand. You move to stop me but it’s too late, I’m already prodding and exploring your already wet little pussy with my finger. You gasp as I do and squirm a little in embarrassment. “You like being choked whore?” I whisper as I nibble your earlobe. You moan gently and nod affirmatively. I wrap my free hand around your throat. You grab my wrist but you don’t pull away you push my hand harder against your throat. “I don’t want to turn you. I want to break you, I want you to know for a fact your gay when I finally break you on my hot pulsing misogynist dykebreaking cock.” As I plunge a second finger inside you, pushing and wriggling and exploring. After savouring your each and every moan and movement, I use my finger to search for your swollen clit and gently prod it. Your leg twitches involuntarily as I do.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it. It’s been long enough it doesn’t even matter what you want, your body is telling you what you want.”

Your heart is thumping, your body hot with shame and desire. Your breathing is heavy as I continue running my finger around your clit, you start to feel something stirring inside you. My pace changes and I start to find a steady rhythm. The muscles in your back twitch and you let out a loud “Fuuuuuck yessss, keep going.”

I struggle to maintain my position as your body writhes in pleasure. “Dont. Stop.” You whisper as you prepare yourself. And I stop. I pull my fingers from you and remove my hand from your throat. You are practically vibrating with built up tension and you collapse, but the lack of release causes something to bubble up inside you….

“What the fuck?” You say, still breathing heavily. Frustrated. Unzip my pants and pull out my hot, stiff and throbbing. You look at it almost mesmerized. “Dykes only get to cum after I’m done with them.” As I let my cock fall on your face with a satisfying *slap*.

“I don’t suck cock.” You say looking at me defiantly.

I get on the floor with you, then I put my hand down your pants again and start fingering you furiously. “Does the good little dyke want to cum?” You gasp and try to contain yourself, but after mere moments you find yourself saying “Please let me cum.” Then I pull out of you and say “Then suck cock like a good little lesbian.”

You hesitate as I press the tip of my cock against your pretty lips. I grab your short hair as I push my cock slowly into your mouth you begin bobbing your head as I make demands. “Watch your fuckin teeth.”

“Deeper” “Faster” “Use your tongue.” In frustration I grab the back of your head and start fucking your face for a short period. I grunt and moan in pleasure as I do. You tolerate it briefly before pulling away, coughing and choking on spit and pre-cum.

“God you’re shit at sucking cock. I was gonna let you get away without taking away your gold star… but it looks like I’m gonna have to break you in after all.”

I roll you onto your back and pull off your pants. Kissing your body and neck, drawing my tongue down your torso and along your hip bones. I move back up and give you one more passionate sensual kiss as I position the head of my thick cock at the entrance to your pussy. As I start to push inside inch by inch, you start to gasp and moan and writhe in a mixture of pleasure and light pain as my cock stretches you. I accidentally go too deep and hit your cervix, you wince in pain. I start to slowly pump myself in and out, careful not to go too deep. As I do you feel this ache inside you. “Ah! Faster” you moan. I pick up the pace and start angling myself to find the perfect position. You start to buck your hips and eventually match the rhythm of my thrusts. Moaning like a beast in heat, I lick my finger and begin searching for your clit. I prod draw my finger around it for a moment and enjoy your now loud ravenous moaning before remembering the correct motion. As I find it, I hear a brief “Ah! Fuck”.

I whisper in your ear as you start to build up to an orgasm once more. “Are you gonna be a good dyke and cum on my cock?” A flash of defiance hits your face before I thrust into you again and you give in. “Yes, make me cum on your dykebreaking cock please!” Instead of stopping I continue, I wrap my free hand around your throat again while trying to maintain my position through your body’s spasms of ecstasy. “Fuckyes Fuckyes Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

And I feel it start to hit you. My cock thrust into you as my finger rubs your clit and your body explodes with violent waves of pleasure. Your eyes roll back into your head and you relax and let wave after wave hit you. As I release my grip on your neck and the blood rushes back to your brain you briefly black out.

When you come to, you’re on the couch with a blanket over you. I’m making tea in your kitchen. I bring a cup over to you and I ask “So, still going to expose me?”

You look up at me as if seeing me for the first time all over again. “No. Thank you, I needed that. I think… I think I’m starting to understand now.”

We still argue and fight all the time of course, but now you just take all that pent up frustration and let me fuck it out of you. Nothing has changed really, except now the butchest dyke in town is nothing but a whore for my cock.

#lgetsd #orientation play #dykebreaking

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