#boy oh boy oh fucking bOY does this ask answer have a lot to unpack in here

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of MHA 2024 Day 21 - Fucking bullshit

Shouta just bundled himself up in his sleeping bag, ready to sleep the break away, with Hizashi’s soft humming in his ear when it knocks on the door to the teacher’s lounge.

Shouta cracks one eye open because with his luck it’s going to be one of his problem children who started the apocalypse or something but he lets Hizashi get up to open the door.

He did not expect Shinsou to be on the other side.

“Hey, kiddo,” Hizashi greets him. “What’s up?”

Shouta watches how Shinsou wrings his hands in front of his chest, how his eyes dart all over the place and he starts extracting himself from the warm cocoon of his sleeping bag. This will not be over quick, even though he never expected Shinsou to be one of his problem kids.

He had hoped that starting out in Gen Ed saved the boy from that particular curse but clearly he was wrong.

“I need your help,” Shinsou finally mutters and Hizashi looks back at Shouta, who waves him in.

“Come here, kid. What is it?” Shouta says, his voice rougher than usual because he was just falling asleep but he’d never send one of his kids away and especially not Shinsou and most certainly not after he so plainly asked for help.

“I—” More hand-wringing, more eyes darting all over the place and Shouta wonders what the kid could have possibly done to be this worried. “I really need your help.”

“And you have it,” Hizashi reassures him because it’s not even a question that they are going to help with whatever it is.

But they need to know what it is, first.

“Tell us what’s going on,” Shouta encourages him and Shinsou takes a deep breath, which does clearly nothing to relax him.

“My foster mother, she’ll be going to the police later to accuse me of using my quirk against her husband. I really—with my quirk, it’s not going to go over well and I really need help.”

There’s a lot to unpack in that short explanation but for now Shouta and Hizashi only share a look before they nod.

“Of course,” Hizashi then says and pats Shinsou’s shoulder.

“Did you?” Shouta asks, because he has to and because the police will, too, but he can admit that the betrayed look Shinsou gives him hurts. “You will be asked that, a lot. So better get used to it now.”

“I didn’t,” Shinsou whispers out, because of course he didn’t, he would never, Shouta knows that but clearly the foster mother has it out for him if she’s going to accuse him of that.

“Why would she think you do?”

“My foster father’s started to act cagey around her so of course I’m the first to be blamed.”

That’s rather disturbing, really, if Shouta thinks too hard about that.

“Do you know why he’s acting like that?” Shouta doesn’t have much hope for an answer here but to his surprise Shinsou nods.

“He thinks I’m stupid and I’m not allowed to talk at home, so he isn’t as careful around me. He’s having an affair.”

More things Shouta files away to inspect at a later date, but it’s really not painting a good picture for Shinsou’s living situation.

“Oh, boy,” Hizashi sighs out. “And I’m guessing if you were to expose that then both of them would accuse you of using your quirk on him,” he mutters, and Shinsou nods.

“I just—when the police sees my quirk they’ll believe her. I know they will because—”

“It happened before,” Shouta finishes for him when Shinsou seems lost for words and he had always wondered about that smirch on his record.

But of course quirk discrimination is still rampant everywhere and Shinsou has already confided in them that he’s been called a villain most of his life. It’s not a stretch to believe the police wrote him off without a proper investigation and purely based on one statement.

“I’m going to call Tsukauchi,” Shouta decides and gets his phone out, trusting Hizashi to explain who that is to Shinsou as he presses the phone to his ear.

“Eraser, please, no more emergencies with your kids. I’m a detective, not a babysitter,” Tsukauchi greets him and Shouta snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, welcome to my world. I need a favour.”

“Of course you do,” Tsukauchi sighs out. “What is it?”

Shouta briefly explains the situation to Tsukauchi who lets out another deep sigh.

“What’s his address? I’m guessing his mother went to the nearest police station.”

“Foster mother,” Shouta corrects him because no mother would ever do that and then he relays the question to Shinsou.

“I know someone at the station there,” Tsukauchi says once he has Shinsou’s answer. “Let me check with them real quick and I’ll call you back.”

“Tsukauchi, we need you on that case,” Shouta says because with his quirk it’s easy to prove that Shinsou didn’t do anything wrong.

“I know. I will be. I just need to see if the foster mother already stopped by and what exactly it is she’s accusing him of.” He doesn’t give Shouta time to say anything before he hangs up and Shouta doesn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes as he pockets his phone again.

“Tsukauchi is on it. You’ll be just fine, kid,” Shouta says, and Hizashi must have explained who Tsukauchi is because Shinsou bursts into tears.

“Thank you,” he gets out between his sobs and Shouta shuffles closer to awkwardly press his shoulder to Shinsou’s.

He’s not great with physical comfort but when Shinsou leans heavily into him, he guesses he must have done something right.

“I’ll make some tea,” Hizashi softly says and then signs to Shouta ‘And call CPS’.

Shouta nods, because that is not even a question. They will not allow Shinsou to stay with people who clearly have it out for him and what did they even get their foster licenses for if not this?

“You shouldn’t,” Shinsou mutters and Shouta frowns, because of course they need some tea in this situation but then Shinsou pushes away from him. “They will just move me to a group home because there’s no other family that will want to take me after this. I’d rather stay with them.”

Shouta and Hizashi share a surprised look before Hizashi signs ‘You understand sign?’

“I’ve been muzzled for most of my childhood. Had to learn to communicate somehow,” Shinsou says with a shrug as if that isn’t the most devastating news he could have delivered.

“Shinsou, if your foster mother really is going to accuse you of that, there’s no way we’re letting you go back there,” Shouta tries to explain, but all it serves to do is make Shinsou curl in on himself.

“Kiddo, we’re licensed foster parents,” Hizashi cuts in before Shouta can awkwardly fumble his way around anything else. “You’ll have to be moved after this and we just wanted to make sure you’ll be moved to us.”

“You—can do that?” Shinsou breathes out and Hizashi shrugs.

“We’re already pulling strings with Tsukauchi. What’s one more, right?”

Shinsou turns towards Shouta.

“And you’d—want to?”

“Of course we do, kid,” Shouta says and reaches out to ruffle Shinsou’s hair. “If we had known your situation was that bad we would have brought it up earlier, but we thought you were fine in your current home. We didn’t want to barge in where we’re not wanted.”

“I—nothing about that home is fine,” Shinsou mutters and Hizashi huffs out a breath.

“Yeah, we realise that. But no worries, we’ve got you. By the time this is over, you’ll be staying with us.”

Shouta nods but before he can say anything, his phone rings. Tsukauchi is calling back.

“She already came in and gave her statement. I need Shinsou here to take his statement.” Shouta really appreciates Tsukauchi’s brusque nature and he clasps Shinsou’s shoulder.

“We’ll be by in thirty.”

“You have classes,” Shinsou weakly protests but Shouta doesn’t pay him any mind.

“You or me?” he asks Hizashi who looks between Shinsou and Shouta for a moment.

“You,” he then decides and gives Shinsou a smile. “I’ll just make sure everyone knows not to expect either of you back today.” He gives them his horrendous finger guns but Shouta thinks he can excuse it this one time, because it makes Shinsou smile slightly.

“Alright, kid, off we go then,” Shouta says and pushes Shinsou out of the room.

The ride to the police station is silent, though Shouta spots Shinsou wringing his hands in his lap more than once and he wishes he could tell the kid to stop worrying but he knows that’s not in Shinsou’s nature.

He’s a natural worrier, Shouta came to learn that much during their training and he guesses with what he now knows of Shinsou’s living situation and his childhood it’s only understandable that he second guesses his every move.

When they finally arrive at the station, Tsukauchi is already waiting for them.

“Eraser, Shinsou,” he greets them and then leads them into a conference room almost immediately.

Shouta is thankful that it isn’t an interrogation room because that would have only spooked Shinsou more.

“Alright,” Tsukauchi starts once they are all seated. “Shinsou, your foster mother accused you of using your quirk against your foster father, making him change his behaviour around her. Now, I’ll ask you a bunch of questions and with my quirk Lie Detector we’ll quickly verify if any of that is true, alright?”

Shinsou nods, though he’s still tense and Shouta shuffles a bit closer.

If he can provide at least a little comfort like this, he’ll do it.

“I’ll need verbal answers from here on out, because otherwise my quirk doesn’t work, understood?”

“Yes,” Shinsou mutters and Tsukauchi gets out a dictation device.

“We’ll be recording everything and after every answer you give I’ll state if it’s true or not. Like that, there’s really nothing your foster mother can do and the charge against you will be dropped.”

Tsukauchi just rose several ranks higher in Shouta’s regard, because he doesn’t seem to believe that Shinsou did what his foster mother accused him of and for that Shouta is thankful.

“Okay,” Shinsou says and squares his shoulders as if he’s marching off into battle.

Shouta resigns himself for a passive role in this, because he’s here for moral support and nothing else. Hizashi might have been better for this, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.

“Your foster mother accused you of using your quirk against her husband. Are you aware of that?”

“Yes,” Shinsou gives back. “She told me she would this morning when he slipped out without even looking at her.”

“True. Told you?”

Shinsou winces and Shouta just hopes that Hizashi isn’t too busy with classes to call CPS.

“Screamed at me, more like. She threw a glass at me, too.”

“True. Did you get hurt?”

“Shallow cut on my shoulder.” Shinsou shrugs it off as if it doesn’t mean anything to him, as if that is just a normal occurrence and Shouta feels sick to his stomach to imagine a kid—and especially Shinsou who he may have grown more attached to than he should—in a situation like that.

He makes a mental note to check the kid over later, but he fears that he’s rather adept at first aid by now.

“True. Did you use your quirk on your foster father to make him behave in a certain way?”

Here, Shinsou hesitates and both Shouta and Tsukauchi note it with worry.

“I haven’t used my quirk on Yamamoto,” Shinsou finally says and Shouta holds his breath.

“True.” Tsukauchi hesitates. “Have you ever used your quirk on anyone who was in charge of taking care of you?” he then asks and Shouta feels his eyes flare because what the fuck does this have to do with anything?

“Tsukauchi,” Shouta warningly says but Tsukauchi doesn’t back down.

“I have to ask this.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Shouta spits out even as Shinsou shrinks deeper into his chair. “This has nothing to do with anything.”

“You know how this is going to look,” Tsukauchi gives back, just as heated. “We won’t be the only  ones who noticed this clarification. It’s not a good look and if this gets brought up later, someone can spin it around. Better to get it out now.”

Shouta hates that Tsukauchi has a point and it doesn’t help that Shinsou is deathly pale right now.

Shouta and Tsukauchi glare at each other for a moment before Shouta backs down, dragging his chair over to Shinsou’s until their shoulders touch.

“I’m on your side, kid, no matter what,” Shouta says because even if Shinsou used his quirk on anyone, with what he learned today about his childhood Shouta guesses he was more than justified, even if maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Shinsou, please answer the question. Have you ever used your quirk on anyone who was in charge of taking care of you?”

“Yes.” Shinsou’s voice is thin and shaky and Shouta startles when a trembling hand clutches his sleeve.

“True,” Tsukauchi says and he sounds decidedly unhappy about it.

“If you do not ask for his reason right now, I’m going to forget myself,” Shouta shortly says and now Tsukauchi looks about as unhappy as he sounds.

“Why did you use your quirk on anyone? To protect yourself?”

“No, I—” Shinsou takes a deep breath or at least tries to because it continues to come out rapid and short. “I never used it to protect myself.”

“True,” Tsukauchi says, now with a frown on his face but Shouta can already guess where this is going.

Of course Shinsou would never do it for himself; for someone else though—the kid wants to be a hero. Of course he’d try to protect someone else.

“What did you use your quirk for?”

Shinsou curls in on himself, and Shouta can’t help himself, he puts his arm around Shinsou and pulls him close.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Shinsou struggles to breathe for a moment before he basically slumps against Shouta.

“I—there was—in a previous family,” he haltingly starts. “The foster father there—he—” Shinsou cuts himself off and Shouta sees him gripping his own arm so tightly his fingers turn white. “I had a little sister there,” Shinsou finally gets out and Shouta goes cold with horror.

He’s worked enough years as an underground hero to understand where this is going and judging by Tsukauchi’s suddenly pale face he knows it, too.

“It—it took me a while to realise but once I did I—whenever he told us to go to sleep, I told him the same. It worked, for a while, until I fucked up and he realised. He kept me muzzled after that and—”

Shinsou breaks off with a sob and Shouta tightens his arm around him.

“True,” Tsukauchi finally says, because he has to, but Shouta still hates him for it. “How old were you? What was his name?”

It’s unthinkable, imagining what that guy could still be doing right now but Shinsou shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he gets out between his tears. “One night she—he’s paralyzed from the neck down and she’s dead.”

Shouta lets out his own shuddering breath and wonders if the kid ever went to therapy. With all the things Shouta learned today, he thinks it’s no longer optional, really.

“True,” Tsukauchi mutters and then stops the recording before he nods at Shouta and takes his leave with a muttered “I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m sorry, Shinsou,” Shouta says, because what else is there to say and Shinsou continues to cry, pressed close to Shouta.

“I just—I just wanted to protect her,” he eventually cries out and Shouta hums.

“I know. And you did the best you could,” he reassures him, because Shinsou did and he suffered for it, too.

Shinsou eventually calms down and once he does he seems worn out, completely drained of the little energy he usually has.

“What now?” he wants to ask and Shouta shrugs.

“Now I’m going to text Hizashi and then I’m going to take you home.”

“Home. Back to—them?”

“No,” Shouta denies immediately because there is no way he’s letting Shinsou back there. Who knows what that woman is going to do when she learns that her complaint has been brushed off. “I’m taking you home with me.”

Shouta trusts that Tsukauchi will have the necessary paperwork ready for him by the time they leave and Shouta gets his phone out to text Hizashi as well.

‘If the CPS gives you trouble burn it to the ground’ he types and immediately receives a thumb up emoji. ‘And ask Hound Dog if he has time to take on Shinsou or if he knows a therapist who could.’

‘That bad?’

‘Worse’, Shouta texts back and he will explain everything to Hizashi later but this is not something to be done over text. ‘I’m taking him home’.

‘You do that. Tell the little listener to get some rest’, Hizashi writes back and Shouta relays the message to Shinsou.

“I feel as if I could sleep for days now,” Shinsou admits and it must be a novel feeling for Shinsou, going by the eyebags.

“Then let’s do that,” Shouta decides and leads them out of the conference room.

Tsukauchi is waiting for them with the necessary paperwork that puts Shinsou in his preliminary care until the CPS can make it official and just like that they are out of the station and on their way home.

Shouta doubts that things will be easy and he is under no illusion that they only just scratched the surface of all the traumatic shit Shinsou went through until now, but he is safe with them now and Shouta and Hizashi will do their best to give Shinsou the loving home he deserves.

[beauzos]

12 & 19 for the writing ask meme!

fanfic end of the year asks

12. Favorite character to write about this year

Since I only wrote fucking Ace Attorney fanfiction this year, my answer is 100% Nahyuta. He really compels me as a character and he's the kind of character I love because there's a lot to explore. He has more of a backstory than a lot of characters I tend to gravitate towards, but the great thing about it is there's a lot of things left open-ended, so good for me to start examining and unpacking on my own. I had a lot of fic ideas relating to him, though I unfortunately only ever finished one of them, which was the Last Rites fic. But it was a good one at the very least, it's my favorite thing I wrote this year.

I also really liked writing Bobby Fulbright, my issue is I just had NOOO ideas for him. But he's a fun character to write. Only thing I managed to get done for him was a really short ship fic with Blackquill. One of the most popular fics I've ever written (3rd most, under two Mother fics I actually consider worth the amount of kudos LOL) Kinda pisses me off KRKDFKJD but really, it's fine.

If I want to be tricky and include original fiction, I wrote a short story I haven't posted because honestly it was pretty badly written, I'm going to rewrite it eventually, but it included one of my new favorite OCs who I use for a lot of different things. I never talk about him, but Sylvester De Fauw is one of my favorites. He's kind of a pronged OC in the sense he's just another version of Faux Beau but it's fine LOL. I like writing villains. He was fun. He was like... if you've ever seen that episode of The Simpsons with Hank Scorpio, he's kinda like that and I thought that was fun LOL. I'll rewrite the story eventually and post it.

19. Any new fics to start next year

Oh, I don't know... I don't write fics unless I'm fixated on that media at the time. Like, I have a bunch of AA wips I'll probably never finish unless I got back into it. I also had a Mother 3 wip I only kinda started around the last time I replayed it, wrote a few paragraphs and then forgot about it. I just had an idea to do a little fic about when the White Ship people first made it to Nowhere, just them exploring and fucking relaxing for a goddamn moment. It'd be a lighter-toned one if I could help it. It's hard to give up Tazmily even now, though I don't think about them nearly as much as I used to.

So far as original pursuits, I obviously have my plans. Rewrite parts of SOBR, start SDTA, maybe start outlining the third one. I have multiple Western short story ideas I have that I want to write at some point. Such as:

a cowboy befriending a witch in his town (you ever seen that one post that's like a newspaper comic of a cowboy on a date with a witch that mentioned he was just attracted to her love of riding and hats??? or that episode of Dororo 2019 where a guy falls in love with a spider demon who decides to protect and love him in return lol)

an outlaw stuck in a cycle of rebirth, who takes advantage of being reborn over and over with no consequence to do what he wants until he grows tired of it, finally does something genuinely good and selfless, and escapes the cycle. literally inspired by that "is it possible for a country boy to escape the cycle of rebirth" meme no joke LMAO

something kind of Western mythic ... a giant in the mountains. i don't know. i never got very far on that one. i want to do something Leder-adjacent. that's all. it wouldn't end well for the giant though, sadly. the vibe... think Backwater Gospel or Butcher's Crossing.

I really should do more short-form fiction. I didn't write much this year at all.

[geodetojoy]

hihihihi o/

rng selected questions for the “weird asks” post! and i proof read them this time lmao

92, 25, 88, 28, 78

idk what’s with all the eights but *shrugs*

have fun love you lux!!

yello!!! ty for the ask hehe <333

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight, or fairy lights?

Huge fan of fairy lights, but i love me some natural light too! other two are STRONG hates lmaooo

25. first song you remember hearing?

ok i have two kinds of answers here- ones like specifically a kids song and ones not

the kids song is the mah na mah na song that i guess after looking it up came from the muppets???? idk it was in a voice box for a stuffed monkey with velcro hands that i had as a baby lmaooo

and the first like. idk radio song? normal song? that i remember ever hearing (and memorizing!) is I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz :P my mom was/is a huge fan of his so i listened to his stuff a lot as a kid!

88. your greatest wish?

ooooooo boy theres a lot to unpack here lmaoooo

ive got a lot of stuff i wanna do ofc, like make games and art to show off to the world and to (hopefully) leave a positive impact, and id love to see/meet some of my idols and ofc meet my online friends, but my greatest wish?

man, idk, is it too cliche to say i just wanna be happy? to be safe and secure at the end of the day? (thats. thats a fucking starkid lyric dear lord LMAOOO) to not have to worry about if im gonna make it to the next day, if im gonna be able to take care of myself and those im responsible for? to not worry about anything and everything at any given moment? to love and be loved? isnt that what everyone wants?

28. five songs to describe you?

OOOO THIS ONES FUN

IT MIGHT ALSO END UP SAD IM SORRY IN ADVANCE IF IT DOES LMAOOOO

Top of my School by Katherine Lynn-Rose

ok i kept picking songs from NOAHFINNCE's GROWING UP ON THE INTERNET album but i didnt want it to clog up the answer so ill just put that whole album as one of the five :P

Body Terror Song by AJJ

several songs from The Normal Album by Will Wood (same as the other one- didnt wanna clog it up)

oh god why is it only fiveeee ive got so many more. michael in the bathroom from be more chill, sweet hibiscus tea by penelope scott, pretty little things by the crane wives, little miss perfect or ordinary, fuckin, my r by Lollia, and so many more but i think for my final answer i gotta say grocery store by Cavetown. sososo many of their songs would fit but that one specifically i think is the best

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

well. ok. heres the thing.

i like neither of those products.

BUT

the singular time ive ever enjoyed coffee was indeed from a gas station, so that one wins

THIS WAS SO FUN AS ALWAYS TYSM MADSSSS IMMA DO THE OTEHR ONE THEN HEAD TO YOUR INBOX o7

[alatismeni-theitsa]

Coming out story time, Γρεεκ edition. With a plot twist. Sorry for the long ass rant I just didn't know who else to tell my story who would get both the Greek Thinking TM and also be accepting of queer ppl.

Apologies for crude language (i think)?? I cannot describe it in a way that's as eloquent and beautiful as I want.

A. Μαμά.

I came out to my mother descriptively, because I knew if I said a Big Gay Word she'd instantly connect it to what she associates with Gay stuff, and I wanted to get her honest reaction, not what she thinks her reaction should be. And also because I Do Not Know what exactly I am (out of the whole LGBT alphabet, I could be Gay/Les, I could be Bi, I could maybe sort of kinda be trans but I do identify with womanhood in the Greek TM way so I don't think I can call myself NB? Anyway whatever, labels don't matter to me and only make me feel weird when applied to me), so there's that.

Specifically I said "Ma, I'm not only attracted to boys." Because that's the best I can describe my hauntingly persistent bisexuality as haha.

After the initial confusion, the first question she asked was "so you'd want to have sex with a woman?" A question I chose not to answer, one because Μαμά τι στο καλό θες να σου πω τώρα :/ and also because the answer is neither no or yes. It goes beyond just Mm Yes Pussy Nice for me. Reducing it to just that is making my skin crawl just as much as Mm Yes Dick Nice. That's dehumanising for me, I'm sorry. :/ My answer was literally "δεν ξέρω/δεν απαντώ" lmao.

And?? She may have accidentally come out to me too??? Without realising it?????

Because she said three things:

1. "Oh, when I was at your age I went through this phase as well." Which??????????? What does it mean if not the think I'm thinking of??? Ma have you really been in denial/the closet for 50 years?

2. "I was fiercely defensive of gay people when I was younger." Which, YES. As you should μαμά. Only it has created this haunting fear in me that in 30 years time, with "experience", I'll change too and I'll go against my gay brothers and sisters as Ορθοδοξία seems to want. Which I won't. I hope. I can only hope my heart won't change, even if I marry a guy and go ahead and have children of my own. Like... it doesn't make sense, HOW did she change her mind in the first place??? How does that happen to someone? Will it happen to me too?

3. "It's okay, I love you for who you are." In the end, all is good. Even if she thinks she's a phase that I'll grow out of, and probably would not allow me to think about dating/settling with another woman, she's not cutting me out of the will! She still loves me!! It's a win for me. :D

Also she approves of cute gender neutral nicknames because she's always called me that. Like: το ζουζουνάκι, το μαρουδάκι (εννοώντας πασχαλίτσα🐞), το κουφετάκι, κτλ.

I really love her little habits I'm sorry. :')

B. Αδερφούλα

I'll keep it brief because there's not as much to say. She's younger than me so she used to have a very much "oh ew wtf" reaction.

But recently?? She's been treating it like an inside joke??? Like, refering to me as "το τέρας" ή "το αρνί" because she knows I love being affectionately/jokingly called an "it". Also making gay jokes in rare occasions, which I love.

She's a little insecure about being perceived as Λεσβία for her fashion sense, and I regularly assure her that she can wear whatever makes her feel good and not worry about how others see her. Can she rock a γυναικείο κουστούμι like a boss? Fuck yea. Does that mean she's a lesbian just because she looks masculine and pretty at the same time? Fuck no, you do you boo. I know how much you like dressing like this. Nobody's opinion can take it away. And lesbians are not Bad either, so she has a lot to unpack in the future. But I'm still very proud of her and how far she's come since I first told her (long before mom actually) and I absolutely love her to death.

Also she called me a bottom. Shame on her. Gah, siblings.

Honorary entries:

C. Dad

I have yet to come out to him because he often ridicules openly queer people on TV. Like, οικογενειακά watching Eurovision the Maneskin year (every year really) was both hilarious and terrifying.

But, like?? He's also lowkey kinda Bi too in a repressed way? In the way that he's loyal to the woman he married but also making strong bromances when given the chance? It's so funny to me, because he has such a soft and fond expression when talking about friends he has sort of trauma-bonded with (term used loosely, but you know how Dads are).

I could also be just tripping and trying to seek comradeship where there's none because Parents are the ones a child seeks to relate to, but I'd rather not psychoanalyse me rn.

D. Granny

Also can I just talk about Passive Acceptance. Because granny (without knowing about my identity) sometimes refers to me and my sister as παλικάρι in a Gender Neutral sense ("δεν είναι μόνο τα αγόρια παλικάρια" she says. granny is a feminist icon without even trying to be. slay.) and it makes my woman-in-a-vague-sense-i-guess(?) heart do the little proud flutter thing.

Also does it make sense to be a non-binary when it comes to speaking English but sort of a woman (actually yes a woman but also yes and no at the same time because I look and act really soft cheery and feminine but I'm mentally also a τέρας από την άβυσσο και τα τάρταρα :D) when speaking Greek??? It's so confusing, how can I perceive gender in two entirely different ways at the same time what the everloving fuck. What AM I...??

Again, sorry for the jumbled thoughts, my last three braincells are busy rn χορεύing Καλαματιανό.

Γειαα! Παιδια με σκλαβωνετε με τα μηνυματα σας τελευταια 💗 Ειλικρινα χαιρομαι παρα πολυ που εχω εστω και λιγο την εμπιστοσυνη σας - εγω μια ξενη στο ιντερνετ - και μου λετε τις σκεψεις και τις ιστοριες σας! Το εκτιμω παρα πολυ!

Να ξερετε οτι ακομα και αν τυχον διαφωνουμε σε καποια πραγματα, μπορειτε να μου στελνετε μηνυματα. Γιατι ποτε δε θα διαφωνησω με το δικαιωμα καποιου να ζει με ασφαλεια και να ειναι ο εαυτος του (το οποιο ειναι ανθρωπινο δικαιωμα ουτως ή αλλως)

Επισης: Δημοσιευω το μηνυμα επειδη δεν υπηρχε καποια δηλωση που ελεγε να μην το κανω. Αν καποιος ομως θελει να μη δημοσιευσω καποιο μηνυμα ή να διαγραψω καποιο μηνυμα, ας μου το πει, δεν υπαρχει θεμα!

Οκ switching off to English!

The whole experience is So Greek, damn! Starting with Mother, telling her Descriptively, her saying that she also liked women "one time", then considering that something is off with Dad as well, then mentioning the accidentally supportive Grandma who gives no shits... Πρεπει να εχουμε ενα σχετικο επεισοδιο στις Οικογενειακές Ιστορίες ετσι για την ταυτιση των τηλεθεατων.

Also, just because I am a nosy dramatic bitch, I would DEFINITELY bring back this conversation if this was my mum, and I would tell her "You know that you like women too, right? You can't just... lose attraction for a whole gender overnight. And they also say that sexual orientation is genetic......" Just to see her reaction and try to convince her 😂 (Don't attempt if you think it won't go well for you! 😅)

I'm really happy about how you handled things with your sis! Being perceived as a lesbian is nothing bad because lesbians are nothing bad! She can rock whatever she wants, like you said! There are lesbians out there who dress like "everyone else", meaning that clothes can potentially be a hint but you can never tell just by the clothes. She has a lot to unpack indeed but with more teaching moments by you, I'm sure she's in good hands.

Oooooh that Dad case! I have a theory here, knowing Greek dads. Perhaps he will be more supportive than you think. Not just because of the things you mentioned, but because he loves you and supports you as his child (from what I read). Greek dads can be ride or die, especially with their daughters. So, if you are confident enough when you tell him, if you look logical and self-aware, he actually might back you up and he might be the most supportive! Parents often dismiss their children because they believe that children are doing it for attention, or because of a whim. Greek dads, I've noticed, want things to be told to them with huuuge neon letters, otherwise they don't act on the situation.

For example, you can be like "Dad, I want to tell you something. (diretor hint: play it sad and worried here, he might feel the need to be protective instead of defensive) I like women too, and I have been feeling it for a long time. I didn't feel it because someone else "indoctrinated" me to it. It's a natural feeling to me. It is not a phase. I cannot switch it on and off like it's a hall light. Most importantly, this is not dangerous for me. I know that you might be concerned and we can talk about it. I just want you to know because this is an important part of who I am."

-- Again, assess the situation accordingly. You definitely don't have to do anything I suggest. And you can make the dialogue more or less cheesy :P In any case, when you talk to him keep in mind that he's an older man who grew up in specific decades and you have to make an effort to set things his way otherwise things will be lost in translation and neither of you will notice.

That's how I got an old aunt to support me. 😂This aunt was the type that says "A woman liking another woman?? Ιησούς Χριστός!!" I noticed what things she valued most (being your own person, having fun in life, not allowing anyone to step on you) and I built my case by telling her that the way I live at the moment gives me all these advantages. I also matched her tone, and I tried to see things from her side, which eventually helped guide her to the mindset I wanted to introduce her to. Sometimes many conversations and subtle hints are needed for this guidance. And they also need to like you because the Greek statement "το δικο μας το παιδι ποτε δεν κανει κατι κακο! το δικο μας το παιδι ειναι χρυσο!" will usually prevail over "A woman liking another woman?? Ιησούς Χριστός!!" 😂

What's more, some parents of queer kids already know what their kids are. They just don't say anything out of fear they will encourage this behaviour. Meanwhile the kids get stressed for decades about how the parents will react, and when they finally come out the parents, the parents are like "eh... we already knew, to be honest. We've been watching you hug and kiss girls since you were like... six. We just hoped that you'd grow out of it, that's why we didn't bring it up. We didn't want you to grow up into a behaviour that would separate you from other kids cause they would bully you and harm you."

The grandma is TOP, by the way! I feel like many older people really know what's important in life. The thought of two women getting married might never be palatable to her but she knows that alienating family members for harmless shit is not where it's at. I love her already!

On the "It's so confusing, how can I perceive gender in two entirely different ways at the same time what the everloving fuck. What AM I…??"

It is a fact that people slightly switch personalities when switching languages. English is a more polite, careful, and tip-toeing language, while in Greece malakas is a word of love if said to your friend 😂 And it's true that cultures perceive gender in different ways. So if you switch to US English and get into their mindset, they have another version of femininity. (Well, the whole country is diverse but I'm talking about the generic, permeating WASP stereotype of the preferred femininity in the US media)

I switch behavior in English too and sometimes I find that I'm more polite and "more feminine" there, which for me... eeeh not my style so much. (English makes us dysphoric, pass it down 😂😂😂😂)

Which brings me to another discussion. I am not nonbinary so I won't want to speculate on what nonbinary is and how it feels. Instead I will speak about a phenomenon sometimes seen in women, who, (sometimes!) need to be seen as a person (who deserves full respect) and not "just a woman" they take up the nonbinary label. Being a woman (or a man) comes with certain expectations and baggage and sometimes as a woman (or as a man) you can totally feel like "fuck it, I want to opt out" or "I already don't do these things and I don't want to ever do them or feel them, so I guess am actually not a woman/man".

I want to stress again that I don't imply non-binary people are this. And I'm not saying that's you. I'm just leaving this out there because it's very harmful when society makes you feel like "failing" at your gender and telling you "you are not a real man/woman because you don't do the X stereotypes", and some people fall for it want to "opt out" of their gender without realizing that in the process they're following the logic of... binaries.

Whatever you identify as should come from the inside, not from what society tells you a woman should be. Because, as you noticed, the Greek and the US society have different notions of what a woman "should be". Heck, you might move to Sweden and find out that out there you feel like Barbie while in Greece you may feel like Babis doing the exact same things😂 Don't rely on society and stereotypes, my humble opinion is. Rely on yourself. And it's okay if you don't have a definitive answer to "what you are". Just live and present as you are most comfortable.

One more thought that I have, which you can also take or leave, is about the sexuality part. I'm not family or a friend, and I don't know you well. I'm not an authority and I don't think my words are scripture. My speculation could perhaps help your brain cells stop χορεύειν τσάμικον γύρω απ τη φωτιά στο δάσος 😂

Sooo... have you considered asexuality?

Heeeaaar me out. Your confusion seems a bit similar to that of people who are asexual but don't know it yet. First of all, there's a difference between aesthetic attraction and sexual attraction. Asexuals usually start thinking they are gay or bi because their sexual attraction to men and women is the same. Zero. 0 = 0 after all 😂

At the same time, asexuals can often feel "off" in their gender and gender expression because automatically they don't subscribe to amatonormative rules and hence, they don't subscribe to gender rules.

An asexual can still have aesthetic attraction to people (just not sexual) and want a romantic relationship. An asexual can have aesthetic attraction to only one gender or many. There's a whole spectrum in asexuality, and there are ace identities like the aegosexuals who are actually not sex repulsed. They are interested in sex as an idea, but they just don't experience sexual attraction for people in real life. (Imagine it like, you like watching football for the rush and the technique, but there's nooo way you want to go down on the field and start kicking a ball.)

Their relationships with their significant others are often "queerplatonic" because the way they perceive gender and companionship (that is not friendship) is queer compared to the rest of society.

I thought about this cause you mentioned the "hauntingly persistent bisexuality", and also because usually the answer to "so you wanna fuck women?" is "eh…yes??" if you are attracted to women in the usual way xD But of course, it might be just your character, that you don't want to focus on sex despite having sexual attraction, and, as you said avoid "dehumanizing" the other. So again, my speculation might be wrong. If you know you are sexually attracted to people, and if you don't have to ask "what is sexual attraction tho?" then that's probably not it😄

Okay, I rambled for too long again but I hope this message has helped you at least in one way. Know that you are already slaying out there and you WILL CONTINUE to slay because you're a cool and kind person with great self-reflection skills.

=================================

Generic message: If my posts have helped you in any way consider buying me a ko-fi 💖

[adarlingmess]

sorry if i already sent this to you, but due to a tumblr mishap i have a reason to believe that it didn't send? (if it was sent and you didnt want to answer for any and all reasons?, please do not feel forced to answer, you can answer whatever you want and you owe no explanations for the why, i nor anyone is entittled to your answers)

sorry, but i was reading "The Devil's Canvas" and i just imagined that after some very specific fucking between Fortune and Raphael cough making love, for the first time with all the emotions it implies cough Raphael (very obliviously) would go to Harleep and complain to them over HARLEEP BEING VERY CLEARLY TERRIBLE AT SEX, I MEAN, WHAT OTHER EXPLANATION IS THERE FOR HIM HAVING HAD THE TIME OF HIS LIFE WITH FORTUNE!?!?!? CLEARLY HARLEEP IS JUST TERRIBLE AT WHAT HE DOES XD (Harleep is horrified and so very offended that Raphael… RAPHAEL OF ALL PEOPLE!!!! pillow princess extraordinary! says the they an INCUBUS is a bad lay… NOW IT IS ON! NOW ITS PERSONAL! FUCK YOU RAPHAEL! D:< )

(It would seem that tumblr did swallow up your first ask oof)

First off, thank you for reading The Devil's Canvas!

Oh boy, I doubt Fortune's skill in the bedroom would surpass that of a literal sex fiend (girl's been on a dry spell for years), but without spoiling much for future chapters, Raphael could definitely tell that the experience with Fortune is very different from that of Haarlep.

Haarlep's definitely superior when it comes to technique and how well he knows Raphael's desires. However, the lie of true love Raphael feels when he lays with Haarlep would be very, very different from Fortune's actual passionate lovemaking, and Raphael will be distraught. He will be so distraught that the things that used to satisfy him barely gets him up anymore and he needs those raw feelings from a mortal who's so clearly desperate for him, but at the same time, he hates that feeling of needing someone other than himself or his own image.

There's definitely a lot to unpack about Raphael's extreme self-indulgence and I personally think he's afraid of being vulnerable, hence why he sticks with a body double of him.

[sorikkung]

moc my beloved it has taken me forever to get back to you but im HERE NOW...

love how mingis just like. i think itd be pretty funny to see you clock our captain in the face. SDFKJGSKFJ LIKE HELLO. love him tho

"Simplifying things in such ways, however, is far from your forte." i support mc's right to be a MESSY ASS BITCH!

“Why are you believing every word out of San’s mouth?” “Did he not tell you how he manipulated me? What game did he play to do so, I truly wonder, Ghost? How did he tell you? Were you in bed? Were his hands on you, telling you foul and hideous words with his lips but touching you so gently with his fingertips?” OOOH BITCH this is MESSY messy.... way to make things Extremely unsettling Extremely quickly godDAMN i got shivers

“Though I suspect San would sooner die than harm you. Suppose that’s where we differ.” thats a lot more reassuring though!

OOOP YEONJUN KNOWS SANS APOLOGIES R FULL OF SHIT... damn that is such an interesting dynamic what the fuck... i feel like i say that abt every dynamic but you make them all so SPICY

now what the fuck is up with those pills... does minho have a problem or is he prescribin the whole crew painkillers 😭😭😭😭 or. "painkillers"....

oooh i really like his take on diagnoses and disorders though that was fresh.

jisung and mcs dynamic confuses the fuck outta me i really oughtta go back and reread from the start to try piece it together again, among other things... im excited for that but i wanted to find out what happened next first before rereading so i will probably be rereading this chapter again soon <3

damn did they kill the other three crew members??? i feel like the more mc asks around and pries for answers all we get is more questions. which is as addicting to read as it is frustrating.

god i adore jongho and mc's almost sibling-like relationship <33 gonna pinch that lil shithead (affectionate)

hwa says not to overanalyze what hes saying but good god i have no idea what anyone is saying anymore when they speak in metaphors like this i Really gotta go back n reread everything cause it seems like all this distrust has been building up for ages but it kinda feels like its come outta nowhere but thats probably more on me forgetting important context clues.

"One that despises the man he loves." MOC!SEONGJOONG AND YALLS UNHEALTHY ASS DEEPLY DEVOTED DYNAMIC YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!

oh my god seonghwa is having a full on menty b my boy what is wrong (the answer is everything.) but what does he mean hongjoong wanted him dead. hello.

OOP SHE FINALLY DONE FUCKING SAID IT..... SHE STILL LOVES HIM.. I MEAN WBK BUT SAYING THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD IS LOUD YK. i wonder how san feels about that. “You were never after anything more than sex but you hoped it would change things?” CALL HER OUTTTTT GODDAMN THIS IS SO DRAMA IM SO HERE FOR IT SHDFKJGKSJFKGJSKFJD

DAMN WAIT WAS SHE GLARING AT HIM DURING ALL THAT WHAT HKSJDFKGJSKFD oh wait suppose the sirens intuition thing wouldve helped him feel all of that huh... crazy cause in the moment it sounded so sweet and romantic despite the underlying... whatever this is going on SDJKHKJSDFHK

"Hate him to the point of obsession as you’ve clearly already pushed yourself to that point. Did it feel good imagining his dick inside you instead of mine? When your hatred turns to infatuation, I’ll be sure to tell you all the ways in which Hongjoong has orchestrated the destruction of your psyche since your arrival here.”

HOLY SHIT. NOW THATS.... HELLO. HELLO???? IM. HELLLOOOOOOO???? THERE IS. SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE.

“If your aim is to become a monster, Seonghwa, then you are doing a fine job at it." HITTING HIM RIGHT WHERE IT FUCKING HURTS HOOOOLY LAWDT THIS IS SO INTENSE

“And I told you that I still loved Hongjoong.”

“After lying to me about it the first time we discussed it!”

“I guess we have that in fucking common then, don’t we? Lying about wanting our captain?"

IM GOING TO THROW UP AND SCREAM CRY AND YELL AND PULL ALL MY HAIR OUT AND??? HOOOOLY SHIT..... LITERALLY TEARING UP THE WALLS RN I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS

“I do love you though, for whatever that’s worth. I’m sorry that’s… I’m sorry.” YEAH COOL ILL BE SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THAT ONE THOUGH THANKS. HOLY SHIT. LITERALLY WHERE THE FUCK ELSE DO YOU FIND A DYNAMIC AS MESSY AND DELICIOUS AS THIS. I AM EATING GOOD TODAY! also “And I hate myself for many things, Y/n, but I would not have you hate me for those same reasons. That is why I do not wish to share those things with you.” got me too holy fuck like what do you even SAY to that. how are you even MEANT to react to that. like HELLO...

"this is Mingi, and should you earn the ire of your captain here and now, it might reward you an early grave. If it were San by his side, you wonder how different things might be." she says this knowing full well mingi wants to see hongjoong get beat up just a little bit. SDFKJGSKFDGKSFDKGSDFG but tru i suppose if hongjoong ordered it he would not hesitate.

“Tell me you were so disillusioned by my hand of kindness, Y/n. Tell me you truly believed I was a gracious man. Tell me you painted an image of me in your mind that was benevolent, so that I may bask in that glorious misconception while I pleasure myself by my own hand at night.” HKAJDFGHJKSKJDFGKJSFDGKS WHAT A FUCKING BANGER LINE???? OH, TELL ME YOU REALLY THOUGHT I WAS A GOOD PERSON, SO THAT I CAN JACK OFF TO THAT LATER. GODDAMN

THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING MORE AND MORE INTENSE HES LITERALLY MAKING HER KNEEL HELLO I AM BARKING BUT ALSO IM NOT BUT I AM BUT IM NOT BUT I DID BUT I DIDNT <3 MINGI STEPPING FORWARD TO DO IT ANYWAY DESPITE NOT WANTING TO IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED BY HONGJOONG TAUNTING HER WITH HWAS PETNAME I AM CHEWING MY NAILS OFF HOW DID WE GET TO THIS POINT OH MY GOD ITS SO FUCKIGN SPICY... the fact that he doesnt even raise a hand to do so- suppose he grabbed her neck for a second but then got his underling to do the dirty work for him so he can wipe his boot on her face like WHY IS THAT FUCKING HOTTTTT IM GONNA BITE THINGS

“Do you even intend to stop at Kebos or was that another pretty lie meant to make me docile?” you spat out at the captain. He laughs in your face.

“What does it matter what my intentions are?”

HOLY FUCKING SHITTTTT HE GOT HER SO GOOD BC I RLY BELIEVED WE WERE SEEING HONGJOONG CARE FOR MC IN THAT MOMENT I.... HOLY SHITTTTT WHAT THE FUCKKK MASTER MANIPULATOR HONGJOONG FRFR.... I SHOULD BE TERRIFIED BUT MY DICK IS ROCK SOLID HSKFDGKJSKDJFGKAKFGKJDFKJ AM I GONNA UNPACK WHAT THAT SAYS ABOUT ME? NO <3

"I have killed my own men for less. Siren or not, San’s lover or not — your timer ticks ever closer to zero so long as you continue with these charades. I will have you obey, and you will respect me all the while. Do I make myself clear?” DICK HARD ENOUGH TO CUT DIAMOND RN BUT IM ALSO QUAKING IN BOTH FEAR AND ANGER KIM HONGJOONG YOU ARE ONE HELL OF A MAN AND I MEAN A HELL OF A MAN I SEE WHY SAN CALLED YOU THE LITERAL DEVIL BUT GOOD GOD WHY AM I INTO IT. OP HOW TF DID YOU MANAGE TO WRITE SUCH A CHARACTER.

“I will not hesitate to humiliate you further before the whole crew if I must, Y/n. We can make a spectacle out of it. I would quite enjoy it, in fact. Now, do you understand?”

IM. I. IM . HELLO. HELLO. HELLO. HEY!!! HEY HELLO!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! HFDGKJAFKJGKJDAFKGAHGAADSKFKDFJSDF WHAT THHTUEUFUCUFKK1!!!! GOING THRU IT RN

calling her pretty after that entire spectacle OOOOH YOU WANT HER SO BADDDDDD HONGJOONG... also tf is yunho doin in his room is that the rebound dick. goddamn. GODDAMN! hope hes all bricked up from humiliating her like that bc then i wont be the only one here with an erection god bless-

oh right mingi knows shes a siren now thats wild. literally who doesnt at this point SKJDFGKJSDFKG and wow hongjoong is Really good at making devotees out of people huh cause mingi rly witnesses all that then his first instinct is to say he means well? wow.

“That’s love, Mingi. Love and devotion both.” POWERFUL. once again driving the narrative of love being something that can be so, so fucking destructive in the wrong hands thats insane youre insane for this i love it

"Would you deny San?”

Love, as it turns out, is the cruelest master of all.

WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAYYYY!!!!!!

"She wields a knife so sharp that one slight cut would have you bleeding out across the floor in mere seconds." YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAHHHH FUUUUUCK FUCKFUCKFUCKFUFCK

mingi is the real fucking mvp in all of this i fucking love mingi. mans is so real and honest and its refreshing compared to everyone elses deeply convoluted bullshit SDJHJSJDFHJSDFH

“Why did you tell me that story? Why would you do that, why would you say that, why, San?”

what kind of love hopes for suffering?

"but when you close your eyes, it’s Hongjoong’s face you see behind your lids and between your legs rather than your lover’s — a curling hatred that serves to deepen the pit already formed in your stomach." god this is going to fucking HAUNT me dude the GRIP moc!hongjoong has on both me and this fuckin mc on god....

"Hongjoong was above you earlier, boot pressed into your cheek as you sat on your knees before him with no relief in sight. How much would it take to reverse the roles and have him in such a humiliating and debasing position? Beyond that, if he made good on his promise, what would that look like for you? And how deep are you willing to submerge yourself just to find out?" I AM GOING TO FUCKING BLACK OUT. OH COOL NICE REPETITION OF THE DIALOGUE GOOD TO KNOW I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE CUMMING TO THE THOUGHT OF HONGJOONG SAYING ALL THAT COOL NICE IM NORMAL- SHDFKJGKSJFKGJAFKDJG

"You think, as the room begins to fade into black and sleep settles in, that your will to fight is nothing more than a dull flame about to be snuffed out for good." thats so fucking OMINOUSSS ON GOD I CANT TELL WHAT I THINK OF ANYTHING ANYMORE I FEEL LIKE MY BRAIN IS BEING ACTIVELY REWIRED RN

is hongjoong also getting off to calling me his dog and threatening to put a collar and leash on me bc im getting off to- [TRAIN PASSES BY]

gas masks stay on at night? what the fuck is IN that water? guess we'll probably find out why gorgon is relatively unpopulated despite it seemingly being a paradise... yes i had to check the planet guide for context SDKJFGKJSFDKGfd

also just the fact that you asked if san calling her 'my treasure' was intentional or not makes me think it is but i dont know what the fuck that MEANS. oh my fucking god did hongjoong sic him on her too but he just actually fell in love fr in the process. god i dont even know what to expect i never know what to expect with moc im gonna go inhale all 400k words of this all over again and go insane with brainrot for weeks THANKS love you bye <3

mists of celeste ➻ 49

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst ➻ word count: 19.7k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, talks of abuse & violence, minor violence, smut ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

act seven ➻ part one

​​​

What rots away at your insides in the days that follow is nothing pretty — a deep profound obsession that drives your hatred towards a particular man into the skin until it sits engraved there, with wounds oozing blood all the while.

“Have you seen Nightingale around?”

Soojin jerks her chin up at the sudden interruption of your voice cutting through whatever pretty silence she constructed for herself. You feel bad, though only mildly, for disturbing her without warning. It’s become somewhat common to find her in the mess hall these days, with Luca off to the side with the two resident Berserkers. Your stare lingers on Mingi for a few more seconds than necessary. The last conversation you shared with the man rings in your ears like it was mere minutes ago and not several days.

“Um, training room I think? That’s where he’s been hanging around at least.” Soojin passes you a little half-hearted smile. You don’t doubt that your discomfort and likely unabashed anger is on full display to her; however, she opts not to ask further about your reasons for asking, so you deign not to say anything other than a quiet ‘thank you’ and nod your head.

Mingi shifts where he’s kneeling close to the child. His gaze finds yours the second you turn to head out, stopping you in your tracks and forcing you to return the fierce eye contact for several seconds. You let it stagnate for too long, apparently, because the Berserker stands without warning and moves in your direction. You don’t consider your next move to be one of avoidance, though it must look like that to anyone else aside from you with how you retreat the way you came and head for the arched doorway leading out. Mingi persists still.

“Ghost.”

Keep reading

[keikakudori]

“  you’d accept a caress from the same hands that leave you bruised, just to feel warm.  ”

memes for that specific brand of ships

          there was a weaving of sunlight in the office today, the shoji doors pushed open just barely  to allow a chill breeze to wash through the room. today was one of those days in which the second-in-command of the fifth was slow in his work, slow for many reasons all his own. the frigid wisps of breezes slipped freely through the bangs that hung over his forehead, teasing gently at stray hairs, and he was simply focused in upon the brush he held. a slow day of work for already it promised to be cold and the cold ever distracted aizen in some ways; he preferred the sharp chill of winter for many reasons. winter, when he could slip through the views of others, with the long hours of the dark there to keep him shrouded from eyes of searching hazel, eyes that would narrow at him from time to time when he was sure shinji didn't know he was looking, the way his mouth would downturn for a moment at the corners as if he had caught wind of a smell that aggravated his senses. but oh -- winter was beautiful. he did enjoy seeing ice and the way snow would blanket the seireitei, muffling it, masking the blood that had seeped through it long ago. beneath the veil of ivory powder, one could almost believe that it truly was as good as it claimed to be.

          almost.

          but yes, aizen had many reasons to appreciate the cold months of wintertime and how he might smile some days for reasons all his own -- not the least of which was the fact that he could often wear moesode beneath his shihakusho, snuggling down into the warm fabric as he pleased. it seemed to send his admirers into fits of swooning when he wore such things as these kinds of layers or when he might show up wearing a scarf that was patterned in some strange way or another. the cold did always seem to bring out their admiration when he dressed warmly as the cold filled the air and he finally rose to go close the doors, sleeves falling back slightly from the warm fabric which covered his hands, his wrists. and aizen was glad for that, for it gave him a chance to wear his uniform with longer sleeves, long enough to cover his arms down to the heels of his hands.

          so up he got, at last, moving to slide the shoji doors shut. when he turned around, gin had somehow slipped in past him to perch in his favorite chair by aizen's desk. it didn't surprise him to see the younger shinigami there in his usual spot, mouth curled up towards his ears at the corners and it drew a smile of his own as aizen took him in with a single glance. he had known gin was around since earlier, but whatever he'd been up to - visiting his classmate, perhaps - it did not bother aizen to see that gin had made himself comfortable as the air began to warm with the circulation of a fan washing over a space heater to help fill the room with the sweet smell of camella oil and more. today was a slow day, a day where his wrists ached quietly from the cold and from other reasons as he moved to sit down once more, staring down at the paperwork as something painful and heavy curled in his chest. it took a lot to make him ache anymore, the mornings after, but he was aching today.

          it was not in the sense of the physical word, but an odd pang filled his chest and his throat time and time again. aizen knew what he would see if he but slid the moesode up along his forearms and the older of the two in the office at current had no doubt that gin would know as well, for the silver viper always seemed to know which days were the worst days when a night prior had been … busy, for lack of a better phrasing. he had seen them this morning when he'd stirred, awakened by the lingering presence of gin at the door to his choice of room in the barracks. aizen did not speak of the dapples of blue which settled upon his wrists and while he had never expressly forbidden commentary upon them, it was seldom that his right hand - for already gin had displaced kaname in these last few years - spoke on them either. instead, aizen moved a hand and set a plate of persimmons within gin's reach, having absently gone to pick up such snacks earlier for the both of them.

          aizen had never tried persimmons before gin had entered his life. and now--? now, he was partial to them.

          and yet, gin was here, perched to his right where he usually favored to be, as if ready and willing for a hand to lift and direct him with a command. they were still learning one another and aizen could admit that their learning was taking time for while he did not seek to reign gin in, not entirely, he was pleasantly indulgent of him all the same. so those brown eyes turned to the youth, studying him as he found himself studied in kind. perched and observing him with a flicker of blue visible from beneath his lashes, a blue that seemed focused upon him -- or perhaps upon what aizen had not fully revealed. nine years since the night he had seen this youth under a spring moon, the silver light making him feel as if he were gazing upon a spirit of the forest instead of a shinigami like himself. whatever he had seen in gin, he had been gleefully satisfied. yes -- rumors abounded where this boy was concerned and aizen had been validated in his assertions when he'd seen how easily gin had dealt with the third seat.

          it had been surprising at how easily shinji had accepted the youth, eyes flicking to where aizen had set a hand upon gin's shoulder, to the smile on aizen's face, to the way they stood together. it was always easiest to make such moves if he used a person's lifestyle against them. the old man had been a hoarder of information, eyes cold and hard, and aizen knew -- he knew what he'd overheard from the older man one day when he'd gone to take something to shinji. so no -- he was not surprised his captain did not ask too closely, did not look too deeply, into the death of his subordinate. two birds, one stone -- a benefit for both of them in the end. a benefit for aizen for he had taken in the scraps of information the former third seat had curated, a benefit for shinji because one threat to him had been removed. aizen was not hesitant about removing threats to his captain, even if he remained one himself. such was how it went. but he tried. he wanted and he tried.

          aizen sighed, once, and then carefully lowered the calligraphy brush to the inkstone, dipping the pale bristles into the freshly made ink. aizen enjoyed doing things with his own hands and he always had. a streak of creativity dwelt within him and even simple things like this could please him in a way and sometimes soothe. such little things, creativity.. making ink was one of them and he would spend his carefully curated funds on getting well-made inksticks for himself -- the older, the better. to grind them down was a ritual of sorts, and how neatly he wrote. there were such things as regular pens to be found, but aizen was a traditionalist of sorts. he preferred the smell of fresh ink, the weight of the brush in his hand.

          it was lighter than the weight on his wrists.

          sometimes aizen preferred the quiet but today he was finding himself agitated by it. the concept of talking did not appeal and there was no wind to speak of, no white noise to drown his thoughts out. their excursions, himself and gin and kaname's, were starting to produce fruit. out in the rukongai, no one cared if souls went missing. it was enough to make his lips curl with contempt in the days following the experiments, understanding that they did not care about the lost souls, these shinigami, these individuals that were there to usher the dead along to their next stage of life. there, in the rukongai, living memories faded away slowly for some, quickly for others. but not for those like him, who'd been born into it. silence. too much silence and he was debating going to put on a record, to fill the room with the airy rippling of the jazz which shinji had grown fond of - and, unbeknownst to him, aizen as well - when gin suddenly spoke up.

          he spoke up and aizen did his best not to freeze up for some reason he dared not name.

          sometimes, gin's observations cut to the quick and aizen's hands stilled in the middle of reaching for the paperwork. he knew it was a tell, but gin enjoyed to test the boundaries, to see what was a button to poke, where the tender parts were. here, in the twilight fading of bitterness and devotion that had turned sour, turned -- turned into something dark and cruel - aizen truly found himself tender. so it was that he didn't expect gin's hands to suddenly move for him, shoving up the sleeve of his uniform, of the garment he wore beneath the shihakusho, to stare at the chain that he was bound by. the links of it were rusting, rusting away, a leash he was no longer content to be held by, and aizen took in the way those small fingers moved as if he would touch -- and his arm pulled back before contact could ensue, leaving him to reach and slide the sleeves back down. there was no need for him to look to gin's face as he did so.

          don't leave marks, he was always told. sometimes, sometimes, he disobeyed. more often than not, lately, aizen chose to disobey, no matter that shinji would brush him off. but the aching today was especially poignant, for he'd seen that rare softness in his captain last night, the way those eyes of olive brown had regarded him, the way fingers had seemed to brush his cheeks -- a softness that'd stirred the same feeble flicker of hope within aizen as it always did, that maybe -- maybe this time, this time, he had begun to bridge that distance between them. and then they'd shot suddenly to gunmetal gray, steely, as the man he called his captain pulled back and away from him, turned away, had flicked his hand in the way he did and had pulled back from the younger shinigami. pulled back and aizen was sure, so sure, that his captain could not be so blind as to not see what the pulling back was doing to him in kind. how could shinji not see it, not see how much his withdrawal affected the brunet every time he did so--? perhaps that was why it felt like the bruises were far more common of late. as if his captain sought to contain him. and yet he would pull back when aizen tried to reach out to him.

          he kept pulling back.

          no matter what aizen did, shinji kept pulling back from him, puling away, pushing to keep that distance between the both of them. how could his captain not see it, not see the yearning, not see what he so desperately desired and dreamed of and wanted--? a connection. a closeness. a nearness between them that he could only call want, hope, desire -- born from an emotion which had curled gently in his chest for so long but now the pool from which it bloomed was going stagnant, growing rancid within him. how long could one sustain themselves upon false hope, upon having the realization time and time again that no matter what they did -- it would never be good enough? never be enough for them--? for when he found those oft-hidden eyes of blue on him, aizen realized just what it meant for him to be seen by someone, even if the someone was a dangerous little viper that seemed eager to coil himself around aizen's wrist, as if he would shield the skin from accumulating the bruises which were not always there -- but they had been there today.

          how many times of him seeing shinji seem to overcompensate for those moments of seeming affection, of seeming care, only to feel something in him break again and again every time his captain turned away from him--? he'd found himself snared by an arm before he could leave last night, rare for aizen to be the first to go, had been dragged back down to the futon for a time and had made his escape later to his own quarters, had laid down and slept fitfully, restlessly, tossing and turning and waking up again and again in starts of awareness. so he sat there now, sandy-eyed, head pounding, staring down at his own wrist where it had been exposed before his eyes lifted to gin. how long could a resource be tapped until it was no longer available for the one that mined for it--? gin had not been here for the bulk of their -- whatever they were to one another. not lovers nor partners. whatever hirako shinji and aizen sousuke shared, it was nothing so kind nor romantic nor respectful -- at least, not from the older man, no matter how much his adjutant tried over and over and over to make it be otherwise.

          ❝ -- i don't tend to find myself very warm anymore where those hands are concerned. ❞ he had spoken at last, breaking the silence which had dropped heavily into place between himself and gin. gin understood him where others did not -- he asked questions, saw what even kaname missed. kaname, who was afraid to disappoint him, to speak against him, who used him in kind as aizen commanded him in turn. ❝ … i don't think i've felt warm under their touch in a long, long time. ❞

          gin seemed content to wait, to let aizen speak at his own pace, his own rate. that was perhaps one thing aizen adored about this young man. that gin was content to sit back and allow aizen to collate his thoughts, as if waiting to see what answer he would get to his questions. even as aizen's fingers moved to curl over the fabric, he found his mind turning things over. he wanted to keep that man and he wanted to break him. break him the way he'd been breaking the brunet down over long years. a rage, a pain -- pain, from something that could have been so gentle and warm turning dark and vicious. what did it take for him to be seen by a man he wanted to see him in turn--? what did it take to make those eyes look at him and truly behold him--? he had allowed the mask to slip from time to time, watching the way the gaze which landed on him would take in the teeth, the claws. only a brief showing of them. only brief. and yet he would be called in to keep him warm.

          yet all aizen felt now was cold. cold, cold, cold -- cold from indifference, cold from distance. cold, when once those hands had warmed him. oh, true - his body responded to them. he was well-trained. he knew what looks meant, the way a hand might move, the slow curling of fingers to beckon him closer, closer, to come close and dip to press mouth to mouth, as the hands would lift to fist into the locks of brown were he on his knees. he knew. he knew what look meant to bend and what meant to kneel, what meant for him to lie back or roll over or -- he knew. just as he knew the rule: don't leave marks. how absently aizen tugged at the fabric now, the fingers of his opposite hand curling into the warm fabric as he stared into the distance.

          ❝ … i think, gin … it's time we begin to move things along. the timetable. … i find myself curious to see what will happen next. ❞

          and he did not see the souls that would fall under the sway of his hogyoku. he did not see the potential for other shinigami to fall in its wake. his eyes looked ahead, forward -- towards a back that was thin. he knew where the muscles of that body were at their strongest, upon his back and abdomen. how well he knows the feeling of that body against his own, the scars his fingers have touched to for years upon years. of how it can tense, of how he was never sure if shinji would see how he would hunch in on himself more and more, head bowing to hide the burning in his eyes -- not of glossy wetness but something else, something he yearned for, craved, something he needed to feel. how could his captain not see it--? how could he ignore it--? but shinji was not here now. meetings today, leaving the second- and third-seat to play captain and right hand. a precarious thing, that. aizen filled that role easily. so did gin. as if they were already woven together, but shinji did not seem to pay heed to it.

          ❝ --... i think it is time to begin seeing just how far we can push things and see if the experimentations will win through or not. and i think... ❞ his fingers drummed once over the surface of that desk. a desk where more than once, he'd had a thin frame bear its weight down upon his own, a frame his legs knew the slotting fit of, the frame where he would find bruises upon his inner thighs when it could be rough. but not always. he remembered when shinji had been gentler. almost kind. it only made him want to swallow now, to find himself besieged by doubt -- even now. even now.

          ❝ i have the perfect candidate in mind. ❞

[mackenzielovee]

Hi, I loved crazy love. Literally I become obsessed, so I was wondering if you could write something about them when they are moving to their new apartment near to college and both of their families are helping them to have everything in order, but Rafe only want them to leave to be all alone with you in their new home. Maybe a little bit of smut?

a/n: this idea had my heart bc i'd really been wanting to write something like this ;) i hope you enjoy! thanks so much for the request!

Warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of planned pregnancy, discussion of sex

crazy love masterlist

my writing

our home: crazy love blurb - rafe cameron

"No, no a little to the left. Ward, are you listening to me?"

You sigh as you set the very last box down on the kitchen counter, stealing a glance at Rafe, who is sitting on your new couch. His head is in his hands as he listens to his parents bicker back and forth, trying to hang up the painting they had bought the two of you. Rose had gushed over it when she bought it, telling you it would match the rest of your decor perfectly.

"Of course, darling. You're talking loud enough," Ward gripes, shifting the painting to the left as Rose demands.

"Oh, come on, now. Back over to the right-"

"It's straight!" Rafe raises his voice, standing up from the couch.

You inhale sharply and step into the living room of your new apartment, wrapping an arm around him to try and calm him down. Ever since his parents and Wheezie arrived with the moving truck to help you both, he's been on edge. When your parents showed up with Macy, you thought he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

"Actually, I think it might just be straight," Rose nods, "Good eye, Rafe."

"Thanks so much," he remarks sarcastically.

"Hey," you whisper to him, trying to tell him to quit being mean to his step-mom, "They're here to help, remember?"

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I could do this shit myself."

"Because you're such a handy man?" you snort.

Rafe clenches his jaw as he looks down at you, but can't help the smirk on his face. He pulls you closer to him, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Where did Macy and Wheezie go? They should start on those kitchen boxes," Rose tells Ward, stepping away from her husband to look for them.

"We can handle the kitchen boxes," Rafe tells her.

"Y/N?" Rose looks to you for a final answer.

You glance up at Rafe only for a second, noting the look on his face, then nod your head in agreement.

"I like the kitchen organized a certain way, anyway," you tell her with a smile.

She nods her head, "All right. Ward and I can start on your sheets-"

"Y/N's parents are taking care of that," Rafe informs her.

Wheezie and Macy come tumbling into the front door, running past all of you and into your bedroom with your parents.

"What the hell are those two up to?" Ward questions.

Wheezie and Macy have become as thick as thieves, the best of friends, over the summer. One day, you'd shown up at Rafe's only to find your sister in her kitchen with Wheezie, baking away. Ever since then, you and Rafe have had to be extra quiet upstairs.

Rose and Ward step toward your bedroom as well, which is down a small hallway just off the kitchen. Rafe grabs your hand and yanks you with him, following the crowd of people.

"Can everyone get out of our bedroom, please?" Rafe grumbles, standing behind his father and watching your parents finish up making your bed.

Your parents had not been crazy about you and Rafe living together right as you both make the transition to college. You had cried, begged, threatened to not go to school, and even dragged Rafe over for a family dinner so all of you could talk the situation out. You'd never seen Rafe's face so red as the night he had to sit at a dinner table and discuss with your father how the two of you would be sleeping in the same bed.

When your parents found out that the Camerons would be financing your rent bill, however, the living situation had changed. Your parents hadn't realized how expensive dorm living is, and the thought of not having to pay for housing on top of tuition sounded like a dream come true.

Which is how you land in your new, empty kitchen, trying to hold Rafe back from killing every family member the two of you currently have within arms reach.

"It's quarter to three," your dad tells your mother over your bed.

"Macy," your mom speaks, "Get your stuff, honey. We have to get going."

"Yeah," Rafe perks up, earning the attention of his parents, "You guys should get moving, too. Y'know, lots of traffic, and Wheezie's got that thing early in the morning."

Wheezie opens her mouth to speak, but stops suddenly when Rafe gives her the death stare. She looks to you, to which you just shrug, and then turns back to her parents.

"What thing?" Rose asks her. Ward's phone buzzes in his pocket, earning his attention.

"Uh," Wheezie hesitates, looking to Rafe once more.

"Girl scout meeting," Rafe blurts.

You cover your face with your free hand to try and prevent Rose from seeing your laughter. You truly have no idea where Rafe gets this idea that Wheezie is old enough to be in girl scouts. Wheezie narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head slightly.

"Girl scout?" Rose questions to herself, still trying to figure it out when Ward speaks up, eyes still glued to his phone.

"Wheezie, get your stuff. You won't want to be tired in the morning at your meeting."

Wheezie rolls her eyes but does as she's told, making her way out of your bedroom and down the hall to collect her things in the living room.

"Seriously, Rafe?" she hisses, "Girl scouts? I'm fourteen-"

"Shut up, Wheeze," Rafe says back to her through gritted teeth.

Wheezie turns to you, "He's your problem, now."

"Oh, boy, do I know it," you tease Rafe, smiling with Wheezie. She laughs, but it's short lived when Rafe shoves her away.

"Get your shit," he mutters.

"Stop it," you demand, stepping in front of him and holding onto his forearms as they are wrapped around your waist.

The one thing you love about Rafe more than anything is how he always shows affection to you, even if your parents or his parents are around. He just doesn't seem to care about anyone except you.

"I want them to go," he defends himself, keeping his voice quiet, "I just want to be alone with you. In our home. I didn't realize that was such a difficult request."

You smile up at your fussy boy, dragging one hand up to his face to stroke his cheek. You can faintly hear your families moving around the two of you, but you're too lost in your own little world to think too much about it.

"Be patient," you whisper to him.

He smirks, "Will you make it worth my while?"

You give him back the same look, loving the way he smirks at you and allows his eyes to rake over every inch of your face and torso. It takes everything in him not to just grab you by the throat and kiss the hell out of you, only controlling himself because your dad is ten feet away.

"Don't I always?"

Rafe groans, trying his best to keep his composure. He has to close his eyes as he continues to whine, knowing that if he keeps looking at you, he'll be hard in no time.

"All right," Rafe says loudly, tugging himself away from you, "Thanks for coming, everyone, but we have a lot to unpack here. Dad, Rose, Wheezie, I'll show you to the door."

You snicker as you watch him attempt to lead his confused family out the door. You turn to your own family, giving hugs and promising to call whenever you can. Rose refuses to leave without giving you a hug, which pisses Rafe off, as he's gotten Ward and Wheezie out successfully and only needs one more.

Rose promises to send flowers, one that match the color scheme of course, and tells you she'll call you to check on Rafe, since he doesn't bother to return her calls. You give Wheezie a hug and give Ward a polite smile and wave from the doorway.

The second they're all out the door, Rafe slams the door shut and locks it before any of them can decide they forgot something.

"Ah, free at last," you joke.

Rafe turns around, licking his lips as he thinks about how you two finally have an empty house and he has you all to himself. No distractions, no parents, no little sisters listening intently at the door for secrets and drama. He eyes you up and down once, and when he brings his blue orbs to meet yours again, you know what he's thinking.

"Come here," he demands, but he can't help himself.

That boy rushes over to you, pushing you up against the wall in the entryway of your new apartment, kissing you as if his life depends on it. You accept his kiss without a second thought, allowing your hands to wrap themselves around his neck.

"Up," he mutters against your lips, hands guiding themselves to your waist as you jump up and let him position himself in between your legs, wrapping them around his torso.

He moves his kisses to your cheek, then your jawline, then your neck, while his hands relentlessly roam your ass.

"Rafe," you say, tilting your neck to give him more space.

"Hmm," he hums against your skin, not stopping or slowing down for anything.

"I really do have to unpack the kitchen if you want to eat dinner tonight," you tell him, although you're fully aware he would never set you down for anything right now.

"Not hungry."

"Rafe-"

"I think," he stops you, wet kisses trailing your collarbone, "We should fuck everywhere. Y'know, break the place in."

Even though you two have been together for a while, him saying things like that to you always seems to send tingles through your whole body. He always knew what to say, what to do, to get you riled up in all the right ways.

"That would take us all night," you whisper, smirking because you already know what he's going to say.

"Fine with me, baby."

You smile, then reach down and grab ahold of his cheek with your hand. You lead his lips back to yours, kissing him harder than you had been before. He moans into your mouth and you know you have him right where you want him now.

"Kitchen first?" he questions, breathless, "Or should we mess up that pretty little bed your parents just made up?"

The raspiness in his voice gets you going, enough for him to notice you squirming in his grip. He grins, knowing exactly what it is you need.

"Kitchen," you tell him, watching as he barely nods before he kisses you again, carrying you over and setting you on the counter.

With ease, he removes your shorts and underwear, dropping his own shorts to the floor beneath him. He kicks all of the clothes away, knowing the two of you won't be needing them for a very long time.

"I can't wait, baby," he mumbles, excusing his lack of foreplay.

You shake your head, and he already knows you don't mind based on the way you're dripping onto the granite, "Please, Rafe."

He smirks and then grunts as he enters you, breathing out a sigh of relief that you two are finally home.

By the time you and Rafe even make it to your bedroom, he has to carry you because your legs can't physically function anymore. Rafe's proud of his work, but pretended to pout when he finished you off on the couch and you told him you needed a break.

He lays you down on your new, freshly made bed, moving the pillows out of your way and tucking you underneath the duvet. He climbs in beside you and molds you into his body almost instantly, inhaling your shampoo scent and perfume, thinking about how perfect this moment truly is.

"I can't believe it," he whispers.

"I know."

"Our home."

"Yes, it is."

You two lay there for a while, staring out at the tens of boxes that have each of your names written on them, just begging to be unpacked. You're sure Rafe's boxes will still be sitting there in two weeks, as he had packed a separate duffle bag of his 'essential' belongings.

"You know," he starts after a while, a devious smirk finding it's way to his cheeks, "The next big step is having a mini you. Or a mini me. But, I'd rather have a mini you."

"We just moved into our college apartment and you're talking about impregnating me," you laugh, as if to ask him if he's serious.

"She'll be so cute," he goes on, "A little girl that looks just like you. And she'd have your smarts, thank God, because she'd be screwed with mine. But she'd have my humor, of course."

"Of course?" you tease him.

"And then we'll have a boy."

"Wow, Rafe Cameron, you really just have this all figured out," you move your head up to look at him, noting the small, cheesy smile plastered across his face.

"I do, baby. He'll be a hellion, though. Never listening, always running away, but a total momma's boy. Never wants you to leave his side-"

"So, just like his dad, then?" you grin, watching Rafe clench his jaw and shake his head.

"Break's over," he grunts, rolling you on your back and climbing on top of you, "We're trying, now."

"No, we're not," you say forcefully.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I'm joking. We'll wait until, like, junior year or something."

"Rafe."

"Fine. But the second you walk across that stage with your diploma, I'm putting a baby in you."

"Deal."

Tags:

@hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

[the-bau-quinjet]

One Misunderstanding

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You struggle to fix Bucky's first impression of you. Bucky struggles with his own feelings.

Warnings: angst, Hydra things- like brainwashing and torture, a few curse words, panic attacks, anxiety

Word count: 5609

a/n: this idea came to me very suddenly, but I'm in love with it. Hopefully whatever I just wrote does it justice.

Masterlist

"Everyone, meet Y/N. She's the newest member of our little group, bringing in a whole new level of hacking and tech skills. Y/N, meet the team." Tony introduced you to everyone, eager to share your skills.

You turned to the group, getting ready to introduce yourself further, but instead tripped. You shrieked as you fell down the small set of stairs you were at the top of.

Sam, being the closest, caught you. "Good thing you've got tech skills." He chuckled as you righted yourself, firmly planting your feet on the ground.

"Haha, yeah. I'm not a big fan of violence." You winced as you said it, wishing you could take it back. You didn't want to get into the reasons as to why you don't like violence.

To your surprise, nobody asked why. You would have guessed they would have questions, but maybe they weren't interested in your past. They all had their own issues to deal with afterall.

"Eh, we don't need anymore people for fighting anyway. Welcome to the team." Steve greeted you warmly, as you would have expected from America's golden boy.

You gratefully shook his hand, glad to not have to talk about anything yet. Unfortunately, you tripped again when you tried to move back, falling into the one and only Bucky Barnes.

His hands steadied you, dryly laughing at your clumsiness. "You really are clumsy."

You did you best to not show how embarrassed you were. You couldn't deny the claim. Unless you were fighting, something you vowed to yourself to never do again, you were clumsy.

Being abducted and tortured by Hydra may have made you a competent fighter, but your aptitude for tripping over nothing never left.

"Right, sorry!" You greeted everyone else quickly, eager to get situated in your room. "I'm just going to unpack everything." You waved as you backed out of the room, bumping into the wall as you left.

-

You had just finished putting away your stuff when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You figured someone would have questions for you.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha was the one to step into your room. Of everyone there, you expected her to have learned about your past. It comes with the territory of being a spy.

"Hi, I was hoping to talk to you." Her tone was friendly, but clearly she was skeptical of you. Again, you weren't surprised.

"I thought you might. I'm assuming you read my file? Honestly, I thought everyone would." You laughed gently, shaking your head at yourself.

"I did. Your file is pretty bare bones though. I did some extra digging... Not everyone else is as nosy as me." She grinned, already pleased with your openness. "So, why'd you pretend to be clumsy?"

"Oh, it wasn't pretend. I've always been clumsy. When everything happened, and I learned how to fight, I thought my newfound agility would help. Turns out, it didn't. The only times I'm even the slightest bit coordinated are when I'm fighting or training, but I wasn't lying about that either. When I escaped, I promised myself I wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"Why join the Avengers at all then?" She looked curious, still unsure if she could trust you.

"I wanted to help people. I just didn't want to use the skills they gave me to do it. So, I learned how to code, figured I could help behind the scenes."

She smiled, letting down her guard. Clearly it would take some time, but you could easily see the two of you being close friends.

"So, nobody knows about what you went through?" She couldn't help but be curious about your past.

"Nope. I don't talk about it much, but it's not a secret. I'll answer anything you want to know." You smiled, eager to try and make a real friend here.

You spent the next few hours answering every question Natasha could think of. You told her about being abducted and experimented on.

That lead to even more questions, basically boiling down to the fact that you're not a super soldier, but you do have enhanced senses- and seemingly enhanced clumsiness for when you're not using them.

You told her about learning how to fight, and the punishments you would endure if you got it wrong. The two of you bonded over the shared experience.

Finally, you told her about how you escaped. When the Winter Soldier escaped, every Hydra effort possible was made to find him. That included you. Resources were spread thin, trying to cover more areas. It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out.

"Really, I owe my freedom to him. Even if he doesn't know anything about me." You felt the tears in your eyes, too many emotions swirling through you to keep it all in anymore. "Since then, I've learned everything I could about technology and coding, which pretty much brings you up to date."

Before she could ask anymore questions, there was another knock on your door. Quickly wiping the tears from your eyes, you called another "come in!"

Steve poked his head in the door, cautiously looking between you and Nat.

"I've been sent to stop the interrogation." He grinned, stepping farther into the room.

Nat rose from her spot on the bed, kissing him on the cheek while rolling her eyes. "It wasn't an interrogation. We were bonding."

"Yeah, over what?" He chuckled, trying to figure out what the two of you had in common.

Maybe it was the look in your eyes, or maybe Nat just likes knowing more than everyone, but she smiled conspiratorially at you before responding. "Girl stuff, babe. Just girl stuff."

You smiled as the couple left the room, grateful for not having to explain everything again.

-

Over the next few weeks, the team constantly teased you for your clumsiness. Well, not the whole team. Nat knew the truth, so she never said anything. Peter never teased you either, although that is likely due to the teasing he endures as well.

Weirdly enough, you bonded with the kid over it, eventually telling him about your past as well.

Normally you could shake it off. They clearly didn't mean anything by it. Except Bucky.

Whenever he said anything, he stared you down. His eyes felt like they were piercing your soul. You're not sure exactly why, but he didn't seem to like you much.

Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have an embarrassing crush on the man.

Really your infatuation started when you first escaped Hydra. His own escape lead to your freedom, so you admired him. When you found out he was working with the Avengers to help people, you admired him even more.

Watching him on missions is really what caused the infatuation to blossom into a full blown crush.

You, however, would adamantly deny that if anyone ever asked. Which is what just happened.

"What?!" You nearly tripped, again, with how quickly you turned to look at Wanda and Nat.

"You heard me." Nat stared at you, a neutral expression on her face. "When are you going to do something about your crush on Barnes."

"I, I don't- I don't have a crush on Bucky." You stuttered, a lackluster job at denying the truth.

"Please, Y/N. It's so obvious!" Wanda joined in.

The three of you hung out a lot around the compound. It was nice to have a support system to lean on when things got hard.

"Well, even if I did, which I'm not saying I do! He doesn't like me. I don't know what I did, but his eyes feel like daggers whenever we're in the same room." You started out strong, but quickly morphed into a sad resignation. It genuinely upset you that Bucky didn't like you.

"I think I might know what that's about..." Wanda bit her lip, immediately feeling guilty at having said anything.

"What!?" You eagerly turned to her, needing answers. You shuffled your way across the room, never fully rising from your seat on the ground.

"I don't know if I should tell you! I'm not even supposed to know, but sometimes his thoughts are really loud!" Her guilt multiplied.

"You have to tell me now! Then I can fix it!" You were practically begging at her feet from your position on the floor.

She looked at Nat, who just shrugged in return. "Not my place, although I would love to hear it."

"Ugh, fine. But you can't tell anyone I told you!" Wanda glared at the two of you, unable to say no to your pouting face. "The first day we all met you, do you remember what you said?"

Your face scrunched as you tried to remember. "I'm not a big fan of violence?"

She nodded, looking at you as if she just told you everything.

"So?" You asked incredulously, unable to follow her train of thought.

She rolled her eyes, having to spell it out for you. "He kind of took that personally..."

Immediately, you sunk completely to the floor. "Oh, god. Fuck! That's not what I meant at all! I just meant I don't personally like using violence! Shit, shit, shit." You continued to mutter to yourself as Nat and Wanda shared a look.

"Why don't you like using violence?" Wanda asked, intrigued by your reaction.

You thought back to your conversation with Nat the first day you got here. You told her it wasn't a secret, it just wasn't something you brought up.

"Can you just look in my head? I don't really wanna explain it, but I want you to know." You asked, glad to share you past with another friend.

Wanda nodded, seemingly doing nothing until realization dawned on her.

"Oh shit." She whispered, not even realizing she said it out loud.

"Yeah." You huffed out a dry laugh.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry." You smiled at her, having worked through most of the trauma already. "You totally have a crush on Barnes though."

That earned a real laugh. "Hey, that's not what you were in there for!"

"It's not my fault! You were thinking it really loudly!"

The three of you laughed together until you sunk back into a pit of despair.

"What do I do? How do I fix this?" You whined, laying back on the ground like a child.

"I think you just need to talk to him. Explain what you meant." Wanda shrugged, unsure of any other advice to offer you.

"She's right. Just talk to him." Nat nodded along as you whined on the floor.

-

After a few days, you finally worked up enough courage to try and talk to Bucky. He had just finished training, so you knew exactly where he'd be: in the kitchen.

Walking in, you were glad to see him pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Hey Bucky, can I, um, talk to you for a minute?" You stuttered through the words, nervous about what he would say.

He barely looked at you, nodding his head for you to continue.

"I just, I wanted to apologize." You trailed off when his head snapped up.

"For what?" Well shit. How are you supposed to explain this one without ratting out Wanda.

"Oh, well, um... I just thought maybe I said- I did something that upset you. Uh, you just don't seem to like me very much, which is totally cool, you don't have to like me if you don't want to. I just didn't want it to be my fault... Fuck." That went horribly. Taking a deep breath, you started over. "I didn't mean it."

Bucky is looking at you like you have three heads. "Didn't mean what?"

"That I don't like violence."

"So you do... like violence." He'd somehow grown more confused.

"Well, no." You paused, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"Then you did mean it." His soul piercing stare is back.

"I-"

"It's fine, save it. Some people get to choose not to be violent." And with that, he left the kitchen, abandoning his post workout smoothie.

You stared at the doorway, in shock over how poorly that went. You stood there , unaware of the 25 minutes that had passed, trying to figure out how it could've gone better when Steve found you.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You didn't hear him, too lost in the memories. Memories of Hydra, forcing you to do things you never wanted to. This happened from time to time if something triggered you into remembering, otherwise you had a handle on your emotions.

"Y/N?" Steve said your name again, concern evident in his voice. He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention.

Everything happened so fast after that. The feeling of someone's hand on your shoulder caused you to panic. With all the memories of Hydra in your head, your training kicked in instinctually.

You grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him closer to you for better leverage. Before he could question your moves, you flipped him, pinning him to the ground.

The second you made eye contact, you realized what just happened. Horror and regret flashed in your eyes.

In an effort to get off him, you threw yourself backward, knocking into a cart full of pots and pans. The clanging of metal hitting the ground echoed through the small room.

Steve sat up slowly, trying to register the turn of events. You sat in a ball on the floor, tears pooling in your eyes, mumbling apologies over and over again.

Sam, having heard the commotion from the pots and pans, ran into the kitchen ready to fight.

"What- What happened?" He asked in confusion, lowering his arms from their defensive position.

"I don't know." Steve looked at you, still trying to figure it out.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice was gentle, but it still startled you.

You jumped from the ground, rushing to help Steve get up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I never wanted to hurt anyone again." Your breathing was picking up, short bursts of air leaving your lungs. Your hands were shaking as you pulled him from the ground.

Your panic increased as you took in their concerned expressions.

"Hey, look at me." Steve's Captain voice, came out, urging you to make eye contact. You followed orders, breathing rapidly, your whole body shaking.

"I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?" His words were gentle, but commanding, causing you to nod in response.

He pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You wanted to explain, to tell them what happened, but all that came out was a pitiful "Bucky".

"Do you want me to get Bucky?" Sam asked, trying to understand you.

The idea of Bucky coming back caused your panic to increase. You shook your head rapidly, "No! No no no no no." You kept repeating the word, shaking in Steve's arms.

"Okay! Okay, no Bucky." Sam reassured you, voice calm and soothing.

You’re not sure how long you stood like that. Sam moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had knocked over.

When your breathing steadied, Steve asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You nodded, leading the two men to the couch in the adjacent common area. You sat for a minute, unsure of where to start.

"Why don't you just lead us through it all?" Steve suggested, still rubbing your back.

You nodded, grateful for the starting point. "I went to the kitchen to apologize to Bucky."

"What for?" Sam interrupted, already confused.

"Sam! Just let her talk." Steve muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry!" He glared back at Steve before turning to you, "Sorry, please continue."

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter.

"Right, I wanted to apologize for what I said the first day I met you all. I realized how it sounded, so I wanted to try and fix it." You paused, waiting for the recognition to hit them.

It didn't take long. The two men nodded, silently urging you to continue.

"Honestly, Wanda told me that was why he always seems mad at me. You have to know, I never meant for it to come across that way! It's more of a personal, 'I don't want to be violent' than shunning others for doing what's necessary." You took a deep breath, not eager to relive the conversation.

"Anyway, I told him I didn't mean it. I just couldn't explain it right, and he got upset, which makes sense!" You turned to look between them, not wanting them to think you were insulting Bucky in any way. "I don't hold what he did against him. It wasn't his choice, and I completely understand that. I just couldn't put that into words when I was talking to him, and I made everything worse."

Tears popped into your eyes again, upset at what he must be going through. You weren't with Hydra for but a tenth of the time he was, and you didn't endure the same level of brainwashing.

"He said something about some people not being able to choose not to be violent, and then he left. I don't know how long I was standing in the kitchen replaying the conversation, but it brought up bad memories for me." You sighed again, working up the nerve to tell them everything.

"Wanda and Nat already know, but I guess it's your guys's turn. This was so much easier to just have Wanda read my mind." You laughed at your own joke, the two men sharing a concerned look.

"I was taken... by Hydra. They experimented on me, gave me enhanced senses, trained me to fight, and punished me when I did something wrong." Again, tears sprung into your eyes, occasionally falling down your cheeks.

"Why wasn't this in your file?" Steve questioned, more to himself than you.

"I haven't got a clue. I guess nobody knew about me? But, I escaped. They didn't brainwash me like they did Bucky, because I don't have the serum. Or, at least, I think that's why." You shook your head, refocusing on the important parts.

"When every available Hydra agent was tasked with searching for the Winter Soldier, I took it as on opportunity. Their resources were spread thin. I was able to getaway."

You went onto explain your reasoning for joining the Avengers as a tech specialist, trying to convey the same earnestness you did with Nat.

"You can ask Nat or Wanda too. Nat found out day one, Wanda a few days ago." You wiped your tears, hoping they believed you. "Actually, Peter knows too."

"I was stuck in all those memories when you came into the kitchen. I didn't even register that you were in the room, so when you touched me I freaked out. I never meant to hurt you!"

You looked at Steve fearful that he would be upset.

"Y/N, I believe you." You cried tears of relief at his statement, genuinely exhausted from the day. "It's not your fault, and you didn't hurt me. Just caught me off guard. You're surprisingly agile when you want to be." He tried to lighten the mood, glad to hear you laugh.

"Well, I train in the middle of the night sometimes. I- I want to be able to get out if I'm ever forced back there." Your voice was quiet, admitting a secret you hadn't even told Nat.

"We won't let that happen." The sternness of Sam's voice surprised you.

"Thank you." You wiped your tears a final time, looking between the two men. "Now, what do I do about Bucky?" You refocused your energy on fixing your relationship with the super soldier.

"He never would have said what he said if he had known." Steve started the conversation, defending his friend.

"I know. I don't hold it against him, I just wish I could explain. I get so nervous when he looks at me like that." You rambled, too tired to filter your thoughts.

"Like what?" Sam asked, eager for more information to tease Bucky with.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Like he can see into my soul." You deadpanned, earning a laugh from both men. "I just want him to like me." You nearly whined, upset by your poor relationship.

"Like you, huh?" Steve grinned. Nat and Wanda chose that exact moment to walk into the room, eagerly joining the conversation.

"Barnes? Did you tell him how you feel?" Wanda squealed with excitement.

You buried your head in your hands, avoiding the knowing looks the four of them were surely sharing. "Not exactly." You gestured to your head, hoping Wanda would figure it out and share with Nat.

"Ooh... It didn't go well, basically Barnes got upset, Y/N flipped Steve and had a panic attack, then told these two everything." Wanda explained to Nat quickly, trying not to make you relive it.

"We need a plan." Nat declared.

"No, I just need to learn how to have a conversation with the man." You rolled your eyes at yourself. "I'll try talking to him again." You went to leave the room, turning around to glare at them. "And none of you can say a word of this to Bucky."

-

Despite you request, Steve still tried to talk to Bucky.

"What's up with you?" Steve questioned, trying to subtly pry into Bucky's thoughts.

"Nothing. Why?" Bucky answered in a questioning tone, trying to figure out Steve's motives.

"I heard you talked to Y/N is all. How'd it go?" He gave up on the subtle approach pretty quickly, knowing Bucky wouldn't answer a question that wasn't asked.

"How did you even hear that, punk?" Bucky deflected.

"Not the point. Answer the question."

"Not great. I messed it up." Bucky sighed, annoyed at himself for barging out of the room. "She said wanted to apologize, that she didn't mean what she said." He ran his hands through his hair, struggling to explain where it all went wrong.

"Would've been fine if I could follow what she was saying. She was rambling about me not liking her, which you and I both know isn't true. Ugh, i've never been mad at her. I'm mad at myself! At Hydra for making me a monster! How could she ever like me if she doesn't like violence? My entire past is violent." He huffed, having worked himself up again.

"You're not a monster, Buck." Steve started gently.

"I know you think that." Steve gave him a pointed glare. "I know, okay? But what does she think?"

"Maybe you should try talking to her. You might be surprised by what you learn." Steve clapped him on the shoulder, trying to reassure him, before leaving the room.

-

Everytime you tried to talk to Bucky, something got in the way. The first time, he was called in for an emergency mission before you even got the word hello out.

The second time, Tony walked into the common area, completely oblivious to the tension, and put on a movie.

The third time, Steve and Nat interrupted you. You were just about to apologize again after an awkward greeting when the elevator doors opened. The sounds of the cheerful laughter and stolen kisses didn't really set the mood for confessing your past with Hydra.

The fourth, and final time, was the most embarrassing.

You walked into the room on a mission. You were going to talk to him, no matter who decided to walk in.

"Bucky, I really need to-" and you tripped on a toy Morgan left out, causing you to tumble to the ground. That would have been embarrassing enough, but there's more.

In your effort to get up, you tripped again, hitting your head on the coffee table, causing you to bleed profusely.

"Shit." You cursed yourself, holding your hand up to your bleeding forehead.

"Are you okay?" Bucky rushed to you from the other side of the table, concerned with the amount of blood spewing from your head.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Unfortunately, you chose that moment to jokingly reference your past.

Some of the people who tortured you had a sick sense of humor. Whenever they would hit you hard enough to make you bleed, they said something about only having one head. A play on words because of the greek serpent with multiple heads.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, I'm lucky I only have one." You froze instantly, unsure if he would have had a similar experience. Slowly, you looked up in an effort to make eye contact.

Bucky was also frozen in place. Clearly he understood the reference.

"Wh- where did you hear that?" Bucky struggled with his sentence, trying not to flashback to his time at Hydra.

"Oh my god. I'm so so sorry." You instantly started apologizing, trying to backtrack. "I really need to learn when to stop fucking talking." You said more to yourself than him.

"Where did you hear it?" He asked again, putting more power behind his words.

"Um, well, i've been trying to tell you for weeks now, but um, I also kind of, have, um, well, you see-"

"Just spit it out." There was the slightly miffed Bucky you were used to.

"I was taken. By Hydra. 9 years ago. Um, they forced me to learn how to fight. Tortured me if I did anything wrong. Forced me to do things..." You trailed off, realizing you didn't need to give him many details. He has first hand experience.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off before he could say anything else.

"That's why I don't like using violence. I only know how to do that stuff because they made me learn it. I didn't want to use the skills they gave me." You took a deep, grounding breath.

"I don't blame you for anything you were forced to do. It wasn't your choice. You're not a violent person, and your past actions don't define who you are. You're here to help people. That's what you chose. That's who you are."

You made eye contact before you continued. "I've actually wanted to thank you for the longest time."

"For what?" He was incredulous, wildly caught off guard by everything you've said.

"The only reason I had an opportunity to escape was because 2 years ago, you escaped. If Hydra's resources hadn't been spread so thin trying to find you, I probably would've never got out. So thank you. For being strong enough to fight back."

You smiled at him, still unsure of how he was feeling.

"I... I'm so sorry." To say you were stunned was an understatement. What the hell could he have to be sorry about? Sure he was a little rude, but from your point of view he was completely justified in hating you.

"Bucky, you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't know, and I couldn't get out of my head enough to tell you. You just make me nervous." You clapped a hand over your mouth, shocked at having said what you just said.

You could see his face fall ever so slightly, causing you to jump back into your explanation.

"Not because I'm scared of you or anything! Hell, I could probably take you in a fight." You winked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, judging by the slight smirk on his face.

"I just, I've looked up to you for so long. Your determination to do good after everything you've been through is really inspiring. It's actually why I wanted to join the Avengers in the first place. I never would have-" You would have kept rambling if he hadn't stopped you.

"Y/N, I am sorry, and I do have reason to be. There's no excuse for what I said to you in the kitchen that day. Even if I didn't know, I threw everything you've been through back in your face. If someone had done that to me, I probably would have had a panic attack." He tried joking, but by the way you froze he could tell he struck a nerve.

"You had a panic attack? I'm so sorry! God, I just left you all alone and-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "Actually, I was kind of frozen in place until Steve touched me and I maybe threw him to the ground... Then I had a panic attack..." You smiled, trying to convey the joke. "So, I wasn't alone. Sam was actually also there. If anything, it made me better friends with both of them because I told them everything. So I have you to thank for that to." You playfully nudged his side.

He ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, clearly trying to deal with his own guilt.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. You didn't know. It happened. We're good now, so we can move on." You smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"How are you so relaxed about all of this? You were tortured for years... I..." He was genuinely curious, trying to find a way to cope with his own pain.

"Well, even before that I always thought therapy could be helpful for me, so I really jumped in full force when I was free. Plus, if you can't joke about something, you haven't really moved on. Some days are harder than others, but I just try to appreciate the people I have now and the good experiences I've been lead to." You kept the tone light, trying not to get too emotional.

He just stared at you for a few minutes, making you questions everything.

"I mean, it's totally different for you though! I was only there for 7 years, you were forced into all that for like 10 times as long. I didn't mean to belittle-"

"I think you inspire me just as much as you say I've inspired you." He cut you off again, a small smile growing on your lips.

"Well, in the spirit of our newfound friendship, can I be totally honest?" You bit your lip, nervous about telling him the truth.

He looked nervous as well, but nodded anyway.

"I kind of, maybe, sort of have a crush on you." You watched his expression carefully, although there was really no need. His face easily gave away his surprise.

"You..." He stuttered, moving his fingers between the two of you. "Me? But, I was so mean!"

"What can I say, I saw through the facade... Well, really Wanda accidentally read your mind and told me why you were so upset around me when her and Nat teamed up to get me to tell you how I feel." You rambled again, realization dawning that you accidentally outed Wanda.

"But you can't tell her I told you that! She didn't mean to! She just said you think really loud sometimes and it's hard not to hear it! She did it to me too actually, I mean I told her she could look in my head so I wouldn't have to explain everything again, I know so lazy, and that's how she confirmed my crush on you." You said it all with wide eyes at a rapid speed, unable to control yourself around Bucky.

You slapped your hands over your mouth, forcing yourself to stop talking. Bucky looked on in amusement, slowly reaching to pull your hands away from your face.

"I won't tell her, if you get dinner with me tonight." He smiled cheekily, relishing in your blush.

"That's a deal I'm willing to make." You reached your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before running to get ready.

***

Bonus:

Sam whined playfully as he looked at the high scores. "Whose username is 'God is a spoon' and how did they get so good at this game?"

He looked around the room, eying any suspicious candidates. Everyone denied it, throwing out accusations left and right.

It was another of Tony's team bonding nights and he chose VR games on the oculus. Obviously, Beat Saber was a top contender amongst the group.

You walked in with Bucky, unaware of the conversation going on, but immediately joining it.

"Peter! I bet it was him!" You playfully nudged the younger Avenger, having formed a close friendship in the early days. "What am I betting on?" Everyone laughed, happy to see you in a good mood after being so stressed for so long.

"Whose username is 'God is a spoon'." Sam chuckled after filling you in. You and Bucky settled on the couch, cuddling next to each other.

"Oh, that's me. Why?" You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what they wanted. "Is it a weird username? It was actually one of the catchphrase things in Just Dance on the switch, I didn't just think of it." You tried to justify yourself, causing more laughter.

"You?! How did you get all the highscores on this game? I thought you were the clumsy one."

You made an exaggerated face to show how offended you were, playfully swatting at Sam.

"I'll have you know, 7 years of Hydra 'training' and experimentation has its perks." You joked with the room. "One of them being I can beat your ass at pretty much any video game."

"Oh, you're so on." Sam smiled, glad he could joke around with you about it.

Meanwhile, Tony looked incredulously around the room, being the only one in the room who hadn't heard about your history, he was rightfully confused.

"I'm sorry, 7 years of WHAT?"

[gruesomejack]

Andy was confused, to say the least, but he smiled despite himself. It was nostalgic to hear the two of them bicker with each other over the phone. It reminded him of late nights spent on three-way calls until their parents forced them to go to bed. "See what? What are you guys up to?"

Shoving gently at Alex, Rabbit smirked. "Do you want to go out with us?"

"Yes!" The word was interjected almost before Rabbit could finish the sentence. Andy's heart was pounding and his face was red, his eyes wide. Stupid dick! He did tell him! "Y-Yes, uh! Sorry, Jonny, I really want to-" Do you want to go out with us? Us? Trailing, he swallowed and furrowed his brow. "What does us mean?" He asked, frowning a little. "Is this some sort of joke?"

Rabbit blinked and felt himself soften. "No, I promise. I would never joke about something like that." He said, his voice gentle. "Alex told me about... everything, really." Closing his eyes, he smiled and drummed his fingers against the boy's collar. "You're both assholes, you know that? Making that stupid pact and then going out of your way to kiss me anyway." He said, "Do you know how confusing that was for me?"

Oh. Uh oh. Andy warmed further and stopped walking, propping his free hand on his hip. "Jonny-"

Rabbit hummed again and continued, "So, it means exactly how it sounds. I want to take you both on a date."

Lashes fluttering, Andy stuttered. "Like a competition? You want to see which one you like better? I-I don't think that's-"

"Fuck off! No, dude." Rabbit let out a breath of a laugh, "I mean I have feelings for both of you and I want to date you both." He said, "But I'm also aware you guys might've shared a kiss, so I figured, you know..."

Andy was red. Really red. All the blood in his head was rushing between his ears and he felt like he could fall over at any second. Sucking in a breath, he bit at his thumb again and quieted. Rabbit wanted to date him-- But so did Alex? Is that what he was trying to get at? Both of them? Together? The idea of that made him nauseous in a sort of excited, anticipatory way. There was a lot to unpack here and to think about, but he didn't want to leave Jon without an answer for too long. Cursing, he swallowed hard and frowned. "...Okay. yeah, I-I guess we could try a date." He said, "God. Fuck you guys!"

A bright laugh bubbled up through his chest, Rabbit's cheeks spread into a grin again. "See! I told you so!" He said and shoved Alex again, "You're the best, Andy!"

Laughing a little, Andy rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. What are you guys even doing that got you thinking about this?"

Rabbit glanced between their bodies and hesitated. "Uhhh... We're uh. You know, locked."

Locked? What was that supposed to- Eyes growing, he reddened further and let out a shocked bark of a laugh. "You're like a couple of dumb dogs! I should've installed a baby gate so you guys couldn't interact that way!" He managed, "You're a fucking bastard too, by the way, Alex. You knew I was going to try and ask him out and you fucked him?! Getting locked with him is karma." Andy huffed, "You want me to bring over some ice water? When Bowser got out and got locked to that German Shepherd, we got them unstuck that way."

Rabbit grimaced, "No! No, I-I think it's okay--"

Rabbit wriggled his nose. Sat on Alex's futon, he had a book in his lap, his eyes scanning the words on the pages. He felt more rested than he had in years; it was really nice to sleep in a bed again and have access to a shower whenever he wanted. Next was a haircut. Blowing a curl from his face, Rabbit frowned when it fell right back into place. Hands up, he yanked the rubber band off his wrist and tied the greyed locks up into a half-pony just to keep it from his eyes. When he was finished, he took the book again but paused, his nose twitching.

Rabbit set the novel aside and glanced back over his shoulder towards the bathroom. Alex had explained to him what he was doing-- He did a shot every week to get his hormones in the right place. It was easy enough to understand, but... Testosterone was easy for him to pick up on. The pheromone was heady and boyish and prevelent mostly in athletes. He liked it quite a bit, and that was probably the reason he gravitated towards a certain type of man. Andy came to mind immediately; he'd always been happy to press up to his side even before he realized he was attracted to him. However, what hung in the air was stronger than that, and it made his skin tingle.

Shifting himself, he threw an arm atop the back of the couch and waited for the click of the bathroom door. Without the barrier, the scent was even stronger, and as Rabbit watched his friend totter out, he found his lashes fluttering unintentionally. "Alex!" Before the other could answer, he was up and on him, his arms around him and his face pressed in his neck. It wasn't a new sort of thing between them at all for him to seek out physical affection and take his time breathing him in; they'd been attached that way since they were kids, but there was a little more excited urgency this time.

Alex was warm against him, and Rabbit couldn't help but squeeze a little tighter, swaying them. "You smell good." He purred and nuzzled in along his pulse. Heavy hands rubbed along his back and clung to his shirt while his cheeks pulled into a pleased smile. He had half a mind to pick him up and pin him down for some forced cuddling, but he didn't want to overcrowd him. "Really good." He tacked on before trying to peel himself off him and only getting a few inches away. "What'd you do? Bathe in the stuff? I thought it was a shot."

@purposefully-lost

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 2

Summary: How do you explain to your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 

word count: 6.3K 

__

You followed Levi down the stairs, keeping a bit of distance between you as to not invade his space and risk a sharp pinch or shove. Yeah no definitely not getting any closer, he'd demonstrated his distaste for your closeness early on in your relationship. Memories from when you were in 6th grade and Erwin and Levi were 8th graders flooded your mind. It had been the year that the pair became partners in crime, Erwin had Levi over frequently and you would often find yourself being chased around the house by the boys. One time in particular, your mother was out working and the boys were having a sleepover, not just the two of them but with two other friends of Erwin's as well,Nile and Mike were there as well. You remembered being in the kitchen when they emerged from the basement after a particularly long video game session, and asking them innocently if you could join. Erwin scoffed and told you to go back to your room or else. You responded with: "make me." and they did. Levi was closest and you recalled being dragged across the kitchen floor and up the stairs, giving you an awful carpet burn, and then being promptly tossed into your room. The boys laughed at the display as Mike slammed your door behind you and held the knob so you couldn't escape. You recalled the embarrassment burning on your cheeks as you inspected the rug burn on your side and back, and to your horror you realized that meant your shirt had ridden up and all those boys had seen your stomach. You shook your head at the memory, despite all the torment somehow you couldn't bring yourself to despise Levi, his presence was simultaneously unnerving and calming to a degree.

By the time you had pulled yourself out of your reverie you and Levi were already in the parking lot, you still remained a couple steps behind Levi who was focused on spinning his keys around his index finger.

"On a scale of one to ten how fucked up do you think shitty-glasses is going to get tonight?" Levi broke the silence, sparing you a glance over his shoulder. Slightly taken aback by his initiation of conversation you took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding.

"Hm, probably a solid six, she seemed pretty excited." you said thoughtfully as Levi unlocked his car and climbed into the front. A moment of hesitation passed over you before opening the back passenger side door, you had never ridden in a car alone with Levi before.

"What are you doing?" he asked, gripping the headrest of the passenger seat as he turned to look back at you.

"Oh, um I wasn't sure if you wanted me to.." you said awkwardly as you sat halfway in the car.

"Sit up front." he said, his grey eyes cold and unnerving as ever. You nodded quickly climbing into the front before he changed his mind. He turned his keys in the ignition and the car roared to life. You couldn't help but notice that his hand remained on the back of your headrest as he turned around to check behind the vehicle before backing out. You leaned back in the seat as you lifted your hips to get into your back pocket for your phone. Levi finally removed his hand to shift the gear into drive. You had to admit, he had nice hands, his fingernails were usually painted black, but sometimes he would switch up the color even if they would end up chipped in a couple days. He also always made sure to wear rings on at least one of his hands. You let your eyes wander up his right forearm which happened to have his one and only tattoo on it, a snake that wrapped around his forearm, head beginning at his wrist and ending at his elbow. 

Levi pretended not to notice the way your gaze lingered on his tattoo, he wondered if you liked tattoos, he knew you liked piercings, your ears were covered with them. He flexed his arm as he shifted his gear when he pulled out of the campus. His music as always was too loud to allow conversation so you just leaned back and closed your eyes. You were just starting to relax when your nose was assaulted by the strong odor of a fruity scent. Cracking an eye open you looked over to see the remains of Levi's smoke blow out his cracked window. Once again he held his juul out to you. You pursed your lips in thought, no you usually didn't vape, but this was one of the rare moments that Levi seemed to acknowledge your existence so you accepted. You inhaled the vapor with less of a struggle this time and managed to blow the smoke out of your own window. Levi didn't hold his hand out for his juul back so you awkwardly dangled the e cigarette over the cup holders with a loose grip.

"Just set it on my lap." Levi grunted as he focused on shifting gears again. You blinked, momentarily taken aback before you dropped the device onto his lap. He nodded his thanks, keeping his silver eyes on the road. Levi was driving a bit slower than he normally does, because of how dark the night had become, suddenly his phone rang without a second thought he answered the phone.

"Hello...Yeah, I can send you the location once I get there.... just bring the chasers.....yep." and with that he hung up, your curious (e/c) eyes watched him as he tightened his grip on the wheel. He hated how you stared,

"You've got a staring problem." he mumbled as he turned into your drive way. You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest as you leaned back, making a point to face the road.

"I do not...Who were you on the phone with?" you asked as he pulled into his usual space.

"Not that it's any of your business but...Petra." he said as he turned the keys, the car sputtered off, plunging your drive way into darkness.

"I think it becomes my business when you invite people over to my house." you replied cooly, gathering your purse and keys before climbing out into the dark. You walked briskly to the front door and quickly unlocked it, kicking off the vans and nudging them on the small rug that you'd had for years. Levi closed the door behind him before doing the same as you, pausing after he finished removing his shoes to watch you disappear around the corner into the kitchen. He frowned after you when he noticed your purse on the ground under neath the hooks where it usually hung. Sometimes you really were hopeless, he stooped down to rehang the bag. He heard you washing dishes and cupboards opening and closing. Finally you peeked your head around the corner to see if he was there.

"Well, are you going to come in?" you asked, eyebrows pinching as you watched him spare a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Sorry I was too busy cleaning up after you." he hissed as he padded into the kitchen and dropped onto a stool. You frowned at him as you wiped your hands on a hand towel, "I'm going to go change." you stated as you dropped the towel onto the counter carelessly. Levi wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sight of the dirty towel, he watched you stalk up the stairs, your phone in your face. Just as he sat down the door bell rang, with a small sigh he stood up and answered the door. Petra Ral stood on the other side, two grocery bags in her hands, being the gentleman he was Levi took one of the bags as she walked in.

"Oh thank you Levi!" she smiled up at him, being one of the few people shorter than he was. He grunted and led her into the kitchen where they began setting out the chasers. You tensed, pausing at the sound of Petra Ral and Levi exchanging pleasantries in your kitchen. It wasn't that you hated Petra, you just weren't in the same circle. She was nice enough, being only a year older than you, she was a junior this year, one of the most popular ones at that. The few interactions the both of you had shared were painfully awkward and clumsy to say the least. She often ended up at the same gatherings as you and often tried to talk to you. You finished pulling on the pair of fuzzy socks and gathered your courage. Walking slowly down the stairs you found Levi and Petra in the kitchen setting out solo cups and handles of liquor alongside the chasers. They hadn't seen you yet, too busy unpacking the goods to notice you at the bottom of the stairs. Just when you thought you'd escape unscathed, your phone rang as you stood at the top of the basement stairs. The feeling of two pairs of eyes burned a hole into your back as you answered.

"Erwin hey! Boy am I glad to hear from you! How was the game?" you asked, loud enough for the pair to hear as you turned around and made a beeline for the front door.

"Uhhhh, I can call back if you were waiting to hear from Erwin..." Jean said awkwardly.

"No no things are fine here!" you said loudly as you slammed the front door shut behind you.

"okay...." the poor boy said quietly.

"Hey sorry about that, Levi was in the kitchen and he's in a shitty mood, doesn't want me having people over or some bull shit." you said, popping a hip out to prop yourself against the side of the house.

"Uh, isn't the party at your house?" Jean asked.

"Yeah but Erwin is in charge and since Erwin isn't here my mom put Levi in charge so here we are." you sighed as you knocked your head back against the siding.

"Oh, you want to come around mine then? We could just drink some of my mom's wine and watch The Office or some shit." Jean purposed hopefully. You shook your head, even though he couldn't see it.

"Can't. I already told Mikasa, Armin, and Eren they could come over." you responded.

"Oh gottcha. Well what time should I come over then?" he asked eagerly.

"Now, please come over now before Levi and Petra start making out in my kitchen." you begged, a small chuckle escaping your lips. He laughed with you, a clear image of his smile in your mind at the sound of his hearty laugh.

"Okay I'll be there in 5." he said, and with that you hung up. You hurried back inside, the cold was beginning to seep into your bones. Levi and Petra remained in the kitchen, Petra was dumping a bag of chex mix into a large bowl as you entered the room. Levi was leaned against the counter, his hips facing Petra as they spoke about school.

"-Yeah I know! The SAT was a lot harder than I expected, I'm glad you helped me study for it!" she spoke in a sweet tone. Levi just grunted and turned to face you,

"Who was that?" he asked bluntly. You licked your lips and blinked rapidly.

"Wha-what do you mean? It was Erwin." you said, your brows pinching together as you squirmed under Levi's acidic gaze.

"Erwin my ass, he never calls you." he huffed, turning his attention back to Petra.

"He's my brother of course he calls me." you snapped, turning to get a cup out of the cupboard for some water.

"Yeah right." he said, unamused.

"Besides why do you want to know who's calling me?" you asked, a triumphant grin curling onto your lips. Petra raised a brow and looked between you and Levi. Honestly this was the first time she had seen you both interact and she was very confused what the dynamic was here.

"I don't." he huffed, his own face screwing up in annoyance as he watched a smug expression settle onto your features.

"Good, then keep your head out of my ass." you said as you walked back into the front of the house, just as Levi noticed a pair of headlights sweeping up the drive. His face fell further into a scowl at the sight of a second pair close behind the first. Before he could go ask you who was here the front door opened to reveal Jean. Peering around Jean, Levi could recognize the other trio of brats from earlier walking into the house. You welcomed them inside and after they had removed their shoes, ushered them through the front room, where they all stood in the kitchen as you scurried to collect the drinks and snacks they brought.

"So what movie?" you asked as Mikasa began working on opening the wine.

"I was thinking Halloween." Armin said, those bright baby blues sparkling even in the fluorescent lighting.

"Sounds good." you answered as you began pouring wine into red solo cups and handing them out. Levi watched with hard eyes as you finished off the bottle, handing the last cup to Jean.

"What are you drinking?" Jean asked as you tossed the bottle into the recycling.

"Oh I'm going to have a rum and coke." you said as you moved to open the handle of Captain Morgan . Jean nodded, pleased with your answer. As you busied yourself with mixing your drink you motioned for the bunch to retreat into the basement, to which they happily obliged. Once all the kids were out of ear shot Levi whirled on you.

"Too fucking many brat." he snarled, Petra winced and pretended to busy herself in the living room.

"My fucking house old man." you hissed back as you shoved past him with your drink. Levi's gaze burned holes into your back as you retreated to the basement and out of his sight. Once Petra was sure you were gone she returned to the kitchen.

"I mean as long as they stay in the basement I'm sure everything will be fine." she said soothingly, her hand daring to rest on his elbow. His gaze was fixed on the door to the stairs, the lights shut off and the sound of chatter floated up the stairs. He turned to face Petra now, having to slightly look down, not something he got to do often.

"You're right, let's finish getting ready." he said, trying his best to return the girl's soft gaze. Maybe if he played this right he could get laid. The thought crossed his mind as he watched Petra turn back to filling up snack bowls. Nah, not tonight, not when all those shits were in the house. He let his mind wander back to the crowd and remembered the sight of Mikasa, they didn't get along, not at all. In fact just the sight of her reminded him of what a solid uppercut she had. The memory of her fist connecting with his jaw as he tried to pull you away from those brats made his cheek pulse. He opened and closed his mouth subconsciously at the memory. Just as he was about to continue wiping down the counters, the front door opened and in came Nanaba and Hange. Longtime best friends, closely followed by Moblit, a junior who was starry-eyed for Hange despite her relationship with Erwin. Mike and Erwin would come together from the game, and hopefully that would be it. Just when Levi was about to warn Hange about all the brats in the basement, you came running up the stairs. Your phone was pressed to your ear as you made a dash for the front door. Levi barely heard your conversation but what he did hear was more than enough.

"-NO Erwin please God no, they're so mean, I swear to God if you bring those brutes here I'll..." you cut yourself off as you slammed the front door closed again.

"Woah, someone is on edge." Nanaba ribbed Hange as the pair came into the kitchen, again with Moblit close behind, just happy to be in Hange's presence. Hange was focused on the door with narrowed eyes, her glasses had been pushed back on top of her head. Petra was talking to Moblit, the pair being the same age seemed to get along quite well, Nanaba favored being by Hange, but unlike the redhead, her attention was fixed on the basement door. A loud thump from the basement made Levi's blood pressure spike.

"Who all is down there?" Nanaba asked, gesturing towards the basement as another yelp carried up the stairs closely followed by yet another thump.

"There's four people down there." Petra answered, a sweet smile glued onto her face.

"Not people, messy inconsiderate brats." Levi hissed as he moved to go give those idiots a stern talking to. Before he could make it very far Hange stuck an arm out and caught him, her head still turned to the front door where you stood with your back to the growing crowd, speaking in a hushed tone. He paused to take in the rigidness of your posture, your white knuckled grip on the phone was a bit concerning.

"I'll go see what's up." Hange said before dropping her arm and turning to approach you. The first attempt was futile, you waved her off and took a few steps away from her. But when Hange reached out and caught your shoulder, you turned and looked up at her with wide, almost angry eyes. He watched you hang up and then exchange a few hushed words with Hange. Your shoulder sagged and you nodded as Hange spoke. Probably yet another one of your tantrums, they had been happening more frequently in the past year or so. Erwin mentioned how you suddenly would lash out at him or other family members, although your mother seemed to be untouched as of the last time he had heard. Finally Levi watched you disappear down the stairs, Hange slid up alongside him as he allowed the chatter to fall into the back of his mind.

"Reiner is coming, along with Bertoldt." she spoke like the problem was obvious. But Levi had no clue why this was such a big issue. You had gotten along with the boys in the past, even having Reiner over a couple times. He would remember because he took it as an opportunity to embarrass you. He turned and furrowed his brows at the brunette. She sighed, rolling her eyes,

"Her ex boyfriend, and if Bertoldt is coming I'm almost certain Annie will be here too." Hange said, Levi blinked and held up his open palm to halt Hange's impeding rant.

"I'm sorry her what now?" he asked his eyes scanning Hange's face in search for any signs of bull shit.

"How did you not know?" she asked incredulously as she turned to face him full on. He mirrored her stance, their hips propped against the counter as they engaged in conversation. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor. Reiner Braun, a fucking air head football player, a meathead, a jock, an absolute asshole. Hange watched with raised brows as Levi stewed in this new information, she had known that deep down Levi cared about you in some degree. She also knew that you cared for Levi, even if all the boy did was torment you. The sound of the front door prevent Hange from speaking, the excitement of Erwin's arrival taking precedence. She peeked around the corner into the front room where the boys were kicking off shoes to add to the pile.

"You boys can put your stuff down stairs, to my understanding that's where all the other kids are." Erwin's voice sounded strained as he spoke to the younger boys. Eld, Gunther, Oluo, and Mike crowded into the kitchen, whooping and cheering. Erwin trailed in behind Bertoldt and Reiner who veered towards the basement, Levi's nose wrinkled when he watched Bertoldt duck his head as the pair descended into the basement. Moments later the noise levels skyrocketed in the basement. The kitchen quieted momentarily at the sound of yelling, finally after about two minutes of yelling Jean exploded out of the basement with his face completely red, you followed close on his heels. Both of you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of all the older kids staring at you. Your own face flushed as you grabbed Jean's hand and tugged him towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, aka where your room was. Hange again discreetly grabbed Levi's wrist and sent him a pointed look.

"Don't, I'm sure Erwin will find time to fix this." Hange whispered, not doing much to calm Levi's fiery emotions. Erwin sighed loudly and dropped his plastic bag on the counter before quickly climbing the stairs. The chatter slowly resumed, especially once the kids from the basement emerged for more drinks. Reiner and Bertoldt were clearly being shunned, the only brat that was speaking to them was Armin, who still seemed hesitant. Finally Eld figured out the bluetooth speaker and connected to the device, filling the house with music and the din of friendly banter. But all Levi could think about was what was occurring upstairs. You had been up there with Erwin and Jean for about fifteen minutes. He would know, he'd been watching the green numbers on the microwave slowly change as Petra practically clung to his bicep. Finally Levi watched Jean creep down the stairs, his shoulders weren't nearly as taught as they had been when he went up stairs, Armin made a beeline to the boy and immediately the pair descended down stairs, Mikasa and Eren followed close behind, while Reiner and Bertoldt hung back dejectedly. As soon as the group was gone the front door opened, revealing a short blonde girl with cold blue eyes, a brunette with wide brown eyes and a lanky almost awkward stance, a large bag of food in her grasp. Behind the tall girl was a bald boy with a wide grin on his lips, his hazel eyes were busy taking in the scenery.

They blindly followed the blond in and began setting up the food. Levi narrowed his eyes at the kids as they made their way to Reiner and Bertoldt. The blond stayed with the pair while the other two quickly ducked into the basement. Way too fucking many kids were here right now. Definitely not one of the biggest parties that had been thrown here but definitely approaching Levi's comfort thresholds. He glanced at Hange to see her occupied with Oluo, who was making a stink about some science shit. Now was his chance, when Petra released her death grip on him he slid away, and ran up the stairs two at a time. He paused outside of your door, it was hard to hear what was going inside the room due to the loudness of the crowd downstairs. Finally he brought his fist up to the door and gently knocked. This was stupid, he should go back down stairs and let you sort yourself out.

"Come in." Erwin. Levi slowly opened the door, you were perched on your bed, eyes not leaving Erwin who couldn't look less bothered.

"Ah Levi thank God you're here, tell (Y/n) that she is being unreasonable." Erwin said, dropping his hand into his lap as he spun in your desk chair. Levi stood awkwardly, unsure of where to sit, the bed or that awful circle chair in the corner of your room? The appropriate choice would be the chair, but he chose the bed. He dropped onto the end of the bed without looking at you, he felt you shift as you turned to prop yourself up against the head board.

"No, Levi tell Erwin he's the unreasonable one." you hissed, your eyes still trained on your big brother. Levi sighed, a wave of relief crashed over him and he allowed his shoulders to sag a bit.

"Is that really what you two have been doing up here all this time?" he asked, a small chuckle escaping his lips. Erwin smiled at the way Levi relaxed, his arms sliding backwards to prop himself up as he stretched his torso out. You curled further in on yourself as you watched Levi take up most of the space on your bed.

"You're missing your party, in your house." Levi scoffed as he let his gaze flit between the two of you.

"So now it's my house?" you whispered, a small smile curving onto your lips as you glanced up at Levi. Erwin let out a booming laugh as he watched his best friend and his little sister finally get along. Erwin stood up and walked over to you, resting a hand heavily on your shoulder,

"Don't worry, I'm sure that since you and Jean are finally getting serious Reiner will respect your space. But if not...." he trailed off and squeezed your shoulder. Levi furrowed his brow at those words, 'since you and Jean are finally getting serious' very concerning.

"Hold up, Jean?" Levi sneered, his noes wrinkling in disgust. You mimicked his face, screwing your eyes shut and poking your tongue out.

"Yeah. And what about it?" you jeered playfully, honestly Levi was just relieved that you weren't a sobbing wreck. So he decided to let this one slide. He shook his head, dark locks falling in front of his smokey eyes. Erwin squeezed your shoulder again, "Let's just go back down stairs." he said, turning to leave. Levi slid off the bed, and followed Erwin out the door, pausing over the threshold to watch you slide off the bed. You brushed past him, careful not to touch him. Levi pulled your door closed and followed you down the stairs. When you emerged into the kitchen you were surprised to find it nearly empty. Hange was the only person that remained, a beer bottle hanging loosely from her fingers. Erwin pulled her into his side, his head tilting down to kiss the crown of her head. Hange leaned into his touch and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. You could still feel Levi's presence behind you so you made a point of stepping away from the stairs in case you were in his way.

"Gross." Levi clicked his tongue before sliding past you. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as Levi stalked into the living room where the upperclassmen were setting up Cards Against Humanity.

"Hey." you whirled around, the sight of Jean's chest filled your vision.

"Hey." you breathed back, a relieved sigh escaped your lips as you let Jean grip your shoulders and steer you towards the basement.

"I'm sorry things started off rocky. It was all Eren's fault anyway." Jean said, his arm thrown casually over your shoulder as you paused at the top of the stairs.

"It's okay. In a way I liked watching Eren go bonkers on them." You said leaning into his warmth. He squeezed your shoulder and scoffed.

"Yeah he's a real hothead." Jean said, his eyes wandered over to Hange and Erwin, who quickly averted their eyes when he glanced their way.

"How about another drink?" Jean said, slipping away from you and walking back towards the kitchen. You nodded and followed him back into the quiet kitchen, where your brother and Hange were cleaning up some spillage. Jean grabbed a Smirnoff ice from the cooler on the ground and popped the cap off before passing it to you. You smiled and accepted the cold drink, the sweet alcohol slid easily down your throat, a warm feeling settling into your gut. And suddenly Jean looked like one of those ancient greek gods or some shit. Yes sadly you were a light weight, and normally you preferred to not drink at these functions. You liked watching your peers do stupid things while they were drunk, not the other way around.

The great thing about your house was the open floor plan. Levi purposefully sat on the side of your couch that faced the kitchen, he was aware of Petra's thigh pressing against his. And the stiff arm of the couch digging into his ribs as he tried to hide his deck of cards. His eyes narrowed at the sight of you cracking open yet another Smirnoff. He shifted as he watched Hange grab your cheeks and you laughed loudly, leaning into her grasp. Jean and Erwin were watching you both with amused expressions as Hange finally released your face and switched to squeezing your sides.

"Your turn Levi." Petra giggled, those sweet hazel eyes watching him expectantly. He forced himself to turn his attention back onto the game at hand, throwing a random card into the pile. Satisfied, Petra picked up the pile of cards and shuffled them, Levi was only half listening as she began reading the cards, causing the group to break out in boisterous laughter. But Levi's eyes had wandered back into the kitchen, now you were sat on the counter, gross. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Jean standing right next to you, his hand resting on your thigh as he and Hange engaged in playful banter. Erwin seemed unbothered, his pupils relaxed as he flicked his eyes between Hange and Jean as their volume increased.

"Noooo you're wrong for that!" Hange yelled, the game paused in favor of listening to the heated conversation.

"What noooo, it's perfectly logical to put peanut butter on a hamburger!" Jean matched Hange's energy, his hand squeezing your thigh tighter as he and Hange continued to bicker.

"Jean" you pawed at his jean jacket in hopes of getting his attention. You frowned as he continued to debate with Hange, this would go on forever. You looked to Erwin, who only half heartedly pulled Hange back.

"Hange why don't we go sit with our friends and let them go to theirs." Erwin said, Hange sighed and shot Jean a look that said: I'm not finished with you yet, and then set off into the living room. You hopped off the counter and tugged Jean out of the kitchen and down the stairs. Levi winced when Hange plopped down on the arm of the couch. He clutched his cards close to his chest as Hange draped an arm across the back of the couch and leaned back. Erwin was settling on the floor beneath the both of them. Hange gripped his wrist and tugged, Levi snarled and pulled his cards closer, "What the fuck? Mind your businesses shitty glasses." he knew that it was near impossible to restrain Hange when she was tipsy, let alone drunk. She was unusually strong.

"I don't wanna see your cards I wanna talk to you! In private" she hissed the last part. The group was too busy playing the game to notice their trivial spat.

"What? No." he snapped, still resisting the brunette as she got onto her feet and attempted to pull him onto his feet.

"It's important please Levi." she whimpered, almost pathetically. He spared a glance to Erwin who remained unconcerned, not even looking back as the young woman hauled him onto his feet. Petra yelped at the unexpected loss of Levi's support, she caught herself and looked up a momentary flash of annoyance crossing her open face.

"Sorry I'll return him short-hiccup-ly" Hange apologized, as she pulled Levi through the kitchen and into the front room. Levi finally managed to free his wrist from her iron grip and glared at Hange.

"What?"

"Are you going to ask Petra out?" her question caught him off guard, his scowl dropping, his mouth opening to form a tiny 'o'.

"Again, what?" he hissed, Hange had a tendency to meddle with Levi's life. He should have known better, it had been too long between Hange's meddling.

"Are you-"

"No... I don't know." Levi threw his hands up in defeat. Hange's glasses caught the light, casting an eerie shadow across her face.

"I don't want to hear it." Levi sighed, holding a hand up to stop her rant before it began.

"Oh? Good because I wasn't going to tell you just yet." she giggled, slipping past him and skipping back into the living room and snatched his spot.

"Levi go make sure that their hands are above the blankets down there!" Erwin called, holding up his beer bottle. Levi grumbled to himself as he lumbered loudly down the stairs, and knocking loudly. A chorus of groans startled him and then the drone of the movie stopped abruptly.

"What?" your voice called into the silence. Levi pushed the door open and scowled at the sight. You had a nice basement, with a nice tv and a large L shaped leather couch. Said couch was crowded, starting on the end closest to him was innocent Armin, close by him was Eren, then Mikasa, (who were obviously holding hands). Followed by Reiner, Bertoldt, Annie, Connie, and Sasha, a bag of chips crunched loudly somewhere. Levi stalked so that he could stand in front of the tv and to his horror he saw you sliding off of Jean's lap and wedging yourself between him and Connie. As if he was stupid enough to miss this detail, "Keep it PG down here." he scolded, grey eyes locked on you as he spoke.

"Sorry dad." you slurred, holding your hands up as you leaned on Jean. Connie sniggered and ribbed you as he pushed you further onto Jean. Sasha giggled and chomped loudly on a potato chip. Levi glared at you as you held your hands up in mock innocence. He scoffed, casting one last glance at your legs, they were tangled with Jeans. As he turned to leave, out of the corner of his eye he saw Jean haul you onto his lap, your sweatshirt riding up. He turned around to see you leaning back into Jean and resting your head on his. The movie began to play again and the kids all settled back in to watch the movie. Levi's mood soured, his grey eyes narrowing as he stalked loudly back up the stairs. Fuck, for some reason seeing you all over horse face left a bad taste in his mouth. He hated the way his hands spread over the exposed skin of your stomach and how you basked in his doting. He dropped back onto the sofa with a huff, picking up his cards again, he grimaced when he realized that the cards were damp and sticky from sitting on the alcohol covered table top.

"Disgusting, who spilled?" he snapped, tossing the cards back onto the table. Gunther laughed and took a swig of his screwdriver.

"I think that one was Hange." he said, pointing a finger at Hange who was seated on Erwin's lap. Her brown eyes widened at the accusation.

"Was not! I think it was Eld!" she said nodding her head furiously. Eld said nothing in his defense, as he took a swig of his beer.

"No it was probably Nanaba with her butterfingers!" Mike said, ribbing Nanaba who was trying to take a sip of her drink, the sudden jarring motion sloshing the liquid all across her white shirt.

"Mike!" She yelped, standing up and pulling the wet fabric off her chest. Mike also stood up, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I didn't mean-"

"Ugh. Just help me clean it up please" she huffed, stalking out of the room and towards the bathroom. Mike paused for a moment, all the guys nodded and gestured wildly for him to follow.

"Now's your chance big man!" Hange whisper yelled across the room as she held up her cup in a cheers motion. Mike took big long strides after the young woman, his cheeks already blushing from the attention.

"Attaboy" Oluo jeered after him, all the other guys laughed and made comments on the odd pair.

"I hope they get together! Nanaba really liked Mike." Petra sighed as she shuffled her cards in her lap.

"Hm" Levi hummed in response as she settled back into his side.

"So, where those guys downstairs keeping it PG" she asked, mimicking Erwin's tone.

"No of course not, and I'm sure as hell they aren't now either." He sighed, leaning forward to grab his rum and coke. Petra nodded, Levi noticed how her face seemed a bit lax, her pupils dilated, and cheeks flushed. She was a bit tipsy, her hand landed on his thigh as she threw her head back when she laughed at something Gunther said. He tensed at her feather light touch, but didn't oppose the contact. Petra was nice, a good girl, she didn't party often and when she did she was usually the sober person present. Levi fished into his pocket and pulled out his vape, taking a hit and turning his head away from Petra's strawberry blond head, instead blowing the vapor into Hange's face. Her nostrils flared and her brown eyes grew so wide he thought they might pop out of her head.

"Now listen here short stack." Hange hiss as she turned to pull Levi into a choke hold. Predicable. Levi easily dodged her slow drunken attack, leaning both him and Petra out of Hange's grasp. Petra squealed when Levi threw his arm across her shoulders and ducked his head against her to avoid Hange. The brunette snorted when she saw Levi tighten his grip on the younger girl and lean further away from her, he was a crafty one, she'd give him that. Levi raised a thin brow in challenge and was satisfied when Hange opted to get up and stalk into the kitchen. Petra practically melted into his side as she sprawled out on the couch, swinging her legs up onto the sofa and leaning back into his side. He looked down at her upturned face and allowed his lips to curve up ever so slightly, a soft dopey grin on her face.Hm, this wasn't so bad he could get used to this.

[unloved-cadillac]

(angst prompt 1) 1,9 and 10

modern au

reader is dating mikasa but mikasa and eren have been hooking up for a while even before they started dating so mikasa breaks it off and the reader wishes them the best and luck even though they are really sad and stuff but eren and mikasa doesn’t last very long to him being an ass and mikasa realizing she doesn’t love him like that and she tries to win back the reader but it takes a lot of convincing

C/n: whoa SHIT! You have no idea how much I love this request. It’s the perfect angst. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

Is It Too Late? (Milasa x Reader)

Mikasa laid next to Eren as she smoked a cigarette. Her arm propped behind her head as she looks at the boy who made a home in her heart ever since she could remember. Eren had been there for her ever since she could remember and to have him in more ways than one made Mikasa the happiest girl in the world.

Her thoughts are pulled away as her phone rings. The caller id made Milasa frown but she answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Mika! Hi, babe. Listen I’m at the grocery store and I saw this cereal you like. Captain Crunch or something? What flavor do you like?”

Mikasa runs a hand down her face and puts out her cigarette. “Uh, why..are you getting me cereal?” She asks and you stop looking at the cereal. “I just thought you’d like it. I saw it at your apartment and I just wanted to confirm.”

“Don’t get me anything, Y/n. I’ll get it myself. I gotta go.”

“Ok. Bye. Lov-..”

Mikasa hangs up before you could tell her but you just sigh and put the cereal back on the shelf. This wasn’t anything knew. Mikasa and you had been dating for a few months now and even though she was the one who asked you out, she seemed to keep a lot of stuff to herself. She shuts herself out from you and hardly makes time for you. You thought it was just the way she is but if Armin’s Instagram stories tell you anything, she had time. Just not for you.

When you arrive home, you unpack your groceries and shoot Mikasa a text.

‘Hi babe. I’m making dinner tonight. Come over?’

You wait for her reply and even though she was active she didn’t reply to you as soon as it delivered. You shake your head and put your phone down and begin to make your supper. Five minutes later, your phone dings.

‘I’ll come over.’

~~~~

As you were cleaning up from dinner prep, a knock sounds on your door and you smile knowing who it is. Checking through the peephole, you quickly unlock your door and smile at Mikasa. “Hi. Come in.” You greet and she walks in. She doesn’t take off her jacket, something she always did when she came over.

Mikasa turns around and scratches her head. You pick up on her sudden mood and you start to get a bit anxious. “Mika? You good?” You ask as you walk to the kitchen island.

“No. Listen, Y/n. We need to talk.”

Oh no. You stop fidgeting with your hands and lay them on top of the counter. “Sure. What’s up?” Mikasa sighs and looks at you. That look..it was so empty. Nothing. It scared the shit out of you.

“We..shouldn’t continue this.” She motions between the two of you. “I’ve been seeing someone else and I just feel like what we have isn’t what I need right now.” She says and you lips part. Did she really just say..that she was seeing someone while dating you? “Mikasa. You were cheating on me?” You ask and she nods. You scoff and look down at your hands which were shaking.

“How long?”

“Ever since we’ve been together. Actually, way before that.” Mikasa tells you like it was so normal. Like it was a thing everybody does. “Is that why you hardly had time for me?”

Mikasa nods and you furrow your eyebrows. “How are you so calm about this?” You cry out and Mikasa looks up at you. “I don’t know. Y/n, Eren has been..” “EREN?! Eren fucking Yeager? Are you kidding me? The friend who introduced me to you? The person you told me that he was a “close” friend of yours? Well, obviously I was mislead about that.” You run a hand through your hair.

“Y/n, listen. I love you and I love him. But it just so happened that Eren and I seemed, I don’t know, better together?”

You look at her, dumbstruck. “How can you love two people at the same time? That’s ridiculous. I don’t even think you love me because if you did you would never have done this. We’re over now. You don’t need to defend yourself anymore. I hope that you’re happy with him.” You start to walk to the door and open it. “Y/n.”

“Please, Mikasa. Leave me alone.”

You tell her and she walks out the door. When she turned around, the door gets slammed on her face and she sighs. Well, at least she didn’t have to sneak around anymore. She lights a cigarette and makes her way to her car.

~~~~

Three months later, Mikasa laid on Eren’s bed as he played on his Switch. She looked at him and ran a hand on his bare chest but he clicks his tongue. “Mikasa move your fucking hand.” He shrugs her hand off and sits up and groans. “Now look. I fucking lost.” He rolls his eyes at her and wakes up rom his bed and heads to the bathroom. After he shuts the door, Mikasa leans up and sits against the headboard.

Normally when you and her chilled on your bed, you always had a limb on her no matter what you were doing. And you would always kiss her whenever you had the chance. She missed having that affection.

What is she doing? Why were you clouding her mind all of a sudden? It’s not like she still loved you...did she?

Mikasa opened her phone and went straight to her gallery. The stupid, funny selfies that you took of yourself were still there and she watched the videos you sent her. The one of the flock of cool birds flying over you. The cute dog you met. Everything.

Eren didn’t even send her pictures or a text apart from telling her to come over. She missed seeing your name pop up on her screen at 4am to tell her the weird dream you had. She missed how happy you made her feel. She missed those little moments with you.

She missed you.

Quickly putting on her pants and shirt, she headed for the door and left Eren to go back to the person she took for granted.

~~~~

When Mikasa arrived at your apartment, it was locked. Looked like you weren’t home and she wanted to call you but she was certain you had blocked her number. So she waited for you. And waited. And waited.

Finally, a car pulled up and you stepped out of it with..another guy. You smile and kiss the guy’s cheek and face your door to see Mikasa sitting there.

“Mikasa? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” She asks as she shoves her hands in her pockets and you roll your eyes. “The last time you said that I found out you cheated. So no. We can’t talk.” You say and shake your head. “Please, Y/n. I won’t take much of your time. Please.” Her voice trails off at the end and puts her head down.

The guy you came with whispered in your ear and you smiled. “Okay. I’ll call you later.” He smiles and kisses your temple. When the guy leaves, you cross your arms over your chest and stare at Mikasa.

“Who’s that?”

“Why do you care? What do you want, Mikasa? Why are you here?”

“Can’t we talk inside?”

“No.”

Mikasa sighs and bites her lip. “I..broke up with Eren.” She whispers and you chuckle. Mikasa did not like that. She hated how there was so much of mock in that chuckle. “And? What am I supposed to do about it?”

“No. You don’t understand. I broke up with him because I love you.”

You sigh out an irritated breath and shake your head. “Mikasa, you can’t do that. You can’t come here after three months expecting me to take you back because you “love” me,” you say with air quotes, “you cheated on me. If I did the same thing would you forgive me? If I betrayed your trust like that would you forgive me?” You ask and she walks to you.

When she reaches for you, you slap her hands away. “Y/n. Let’s just try again. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I love you. I always have and I was so stupid for thinking that I loved Eren too. I’m an idiot. I’m a selfish, self-centered idiot who broke up with the only person who loved me for me.” Mikasa let a tear fall from her black eyes and you felt your heart stop. You never saw her cry before since she always wanted to be the strong one in a relationship.

“Every day for the past three months, I hoped you would call me. Not even to say anything sweet. Even if it was just for you to cuss at me, yell or anything. I just wanted to hear your voice. You made me feel so loved and all I did was throw it away. I just...want a second chance.” She looks deep into your eyes and you shake your head. In all the time that you knew Mikasa, she never showed emotion. In the words she was telling you now, it had more emotion in the entire time you dated her.

Mikasa holds your face and close your eyes. “Please, Y/n. You’re the only good thing in my life and I can’t go on without you. Please.” She kisses your forehead.

You slowly pry her hands away from your face and wipe your tears. “We can’t try again. We would only come back to square one. Arguing, bringing your cheating up again. Mikasa, it’s broken. We can’t fix it anymore.” You whisper and she shakes her head. “No, Y/n. Don’t say that. You’re my whole heart, Y/n. Just give me a chance. I’ll be better. For you, for us.” She rests her forehead against yours as she holds your hands.

It’s silent. The sounds of passing cars and rustling leaves filled the void and you couldn’t give an answer right now. So you pulled away and cupped her face. “Let me..think about this. I need time.” You whisper and she nods. “I’ll wait for you, Y/n.”

You let her go and head inside your apartment before giving her one last look. Maybe this could be saved.

——————————————————————————

“You’re my whole heart.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[tedturneriscrazy]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins. No preamble. Let's do this.

Oh, hey, I finally figured out how to do the "keep reading" thing! Neat!

So that's how they're explaining Willow not being in this, huh? Pixies must be a nasty piece of work.

Incidentally, I really hope we get a Willow-centered episode this season.

"What's the point of being good at this if I can't do anything good with it?" Helluva line

Gus lying on the floor groaning in frustration is a mood

Fuck yeah Gus has a Bad Girl Coven shirt

I don't know how King was talked into recording that "leave a message" bit, but I'm into it.

Hi Willow. Bye Willow.

Loving Luz's permutations of "Gus"

Okay but the whole library card bit implies Luz does this all the damn time.

I'd ask why not get her own, but then I remember who she lives with.

I must admit, it's somewhat jarring to see Gus so filled with self-doubt.

Braxus! (Not worried about his fate so I can just enjoy his presence)

So Construction = earthbending. I knew it!

I also knew that Warden Wrath and Braxus were related! Turns out Wrath is a single dad.

Yes, Gus, those are their tracks.

Mattholomule (God, I hate writing his name) simping over Bria, aka how some people are about Felicia Day. (No problem with her, for the record, I'm just being a smartass)

Gus is actually invited to the adventure rather than offering to come along? That's a refreshing change of pace.

How long was Luz holding her breath?!

It seems the call to adventure won't take no for an answer, Gus.

I know Gus crushing on Bria puts a damper on the Ace Gus headcanon, but consider: Ace Biromantic Gus!

Eda making headlines with her human market, we love to see it

Planet of Humans "Too implausible" lmao

Ah, there's hair down Amity! So good!

"Finally! I can learn how to summon the Dark Lord!"

Luz is yearning

Do Ed and Em just...go around like that?

"Nah, looks like you've got that covered." So everyone just knows, cool cool.

Ooh, they/them date for Ed!

In this episode: blushing, and lots of it!

Also Luz is such a bi disaster it's great.

The twins definitely know what's up. Then again, Luz and Amity are not in the least bit subtle.

¡Más español!

Amity breaking the rules to help her gf? Now that's character development!

(Although it seems to me they could've just tried asking Malphas about that diary, but whatever)

"You have to do everything I say" I'm sure this won't come back to bite them.

Man, Matt really is quite little. Even Gus is taller than him now.

HADOKEN!

(Not sure if he figured out it was a fire glyph or if he was just guessing)

I say the buffing properties of illusion magic are underappreciated.

Ooh, what if the Galderstones were made by illusionists? That might help explain why illusions aren't boosted by them!

Forbidden Stacks really going hard, huh?

More blushing, always nice

So that's how Amity has her own secret room in the library.

Potential future date in the human realm is a powerful motivator, I see.

That "Don't tread on me" snake never said anything about poking.

Make the butterfly boi lookout, sure.

Beginning to think Bria is not as...nice as she puts on...

Grave robbing is a perfectly wholesome activity for teenagers, right?

Yup, I was right about Bria.

"Who's that Pokémon?!"

"Deadwardian Era" I love this show's wordplay

Y'know, considering all these ancient books have their own separate area, they are not kept in the best condition.

This is still cute as hell.

So much for the being quiet part...

Of course Malphas talks like an old hippie. Why did I expect any different?

That whole exchange...I just...😭

The "doing stupid things," the dawning comprehension on Amity's face, Luz vowing in Spanish to make things right...so much to unpack here!

Also, I'm still waiting for Amity's turn to have a proper cry this season. That doesn't count.

"It's a faaaaake!" Callback to the Pokémon bit and a Star Trek DS9 reference? I am a master wordsmith!

(Disclaimer: I haven't really watched any Star Trek. Everything I know about it is through osmosis)

Strange, Gus seems less than thrilled by being hugged by a frazzled old man.

Illusionists guarding the Galderstones makes perfect sense, but unfortunately it does require that that fact not be widely known.

Call me crazy, but I think Bria was bullshitting when talking about "changing things for the better."

Wait, are they making Matt less of a shithead? I think I'm okay with this.

Oh, Angmar, a shame you have to hang with such a crowd.

Regardless of that development, I maintain that Angmar>Alador in the contest of butterfly bois.

Come on, Gavin, you can't seriously be falling for this. (Everything about this is hilarious. Big mustaches, man)

"I'm not dumb enough to fall for these tricks!" Give it a moment.

ANCIENT SINS ANCIENT SINS

Yeah, it's an obvious reference, but it's a good one, dammit!

Damn, Gus, going ham with all that. And the whole graveyard, to boot!

That's the thing about illusions, you can get super fucked up with them. Look what they got away with for a TV-Y7 rating!

Welp, Gustholomule just got some fuel.

Aw, sibling bonding moment.

"Is that so bad? You weren't happy before."

New hair color!

Luz is into it!

Ed and Em are us.

Time for lore!

Ah, conveniently timed wind blowing through Luz's hair, I see.

"Don't worry. You have a way of sneaking into people's hearts." This is some Kingdom Hearts bullshit and I am here for it!

I think I spent all my freakout energy last night, so no all caps for the kiss.

Oh who am I kidding AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Luz's turn for dawning comprehension!

Amity's whole reaction to what she just did is 100000/10

The way Luz just sinks to the ground

So yeah, that was something, huh? Gus adventure and Lumity development! What more could you ask for?

(Maybe a few things, but we can talk about that elsewhere)

Anyway, I'll be doing this again next week! Probably sleep deprived as usual.

[itsclydebitches]

Hey Clyde, did you check out Wonder Egg Priority at all? The first ep is super promising, but the series as a whole is one of those real fascinating disasters from a story and a production standpoint that might be up your alley as a thing to pick apart haha.

I’d warn that it’s also reeeeal offensive and this generally gets worse as it goes though.

Hi, Phoenix! How are you and Cube doing?

Okay, I hadn't watched Wonder Egg Priority when I received your ask this morning. Now I have. In a fit of intense curiosity I settled down for a rare binge session and tore through all twelve episodes + OVA in a single sitting. It is now nearly 3:00am as I write this because I, oh so clearly, make fantastic life choices.

A question for you: what did I just watch?

The rest is going under a read more partly for spoilers, but more-so because WEP—and the summary I'm about to give, because I feel like I need to try and explain this to tumblr's faceless void for my own, dwindling sanity—comes with about every trigger warning under the sun. Seriously, if you are triggered by anything that we might think of as a "standard" trigger (meaning, not unique to you and your own experiences), best to proceed with caution.

Right! What the ever loving fuck happened in this show? Well, let's work through this chronologically. Two genius, frat boy brothers (I get their names mixed up so I'm not even gonna bother) are locked in their apartment and closely monitored because of Super Secret Science Research. Even though, I think, they're the ones who created this company. Not important! What is important is that they're bored enough to create an AI for funsies, thinking of her as their daughter and letting her name herself Frill. Frill is the perfect, cutesy, also genius child who has a habit of popping her lips — which the camera focuses on in an incredibly creepy fashion. One day Brother #1 (the hot one) falls in love with a random woman we know nothing about and Frill gets jealous.

"Jealous in a general sense?" you ask, thinking this show is in any way normal. "Like, just of her Dad giving attention to someone else?"

"No," I respond, patting your hand. "Jealous because she's in love with him." Which, beyond the subject matter itself, comes completely out of nowhere. Frill has a line about what you'd do if some woman stole your husband away. I, fool that I was, briefly considered that these two guys were lovers, not brothers. Oh no. They're brothers. Frill just considers Dad #1 to be her "husband."

So, in true evil AI fashion, she murders the wife, leaving only her newly born child behind. Who is a daughter.

Uh oh.

Dad #1 locks Frill in a coffin-esque hole in the basement and goes on with his life. Things are great! Until years later when the daughter reveals that she has fallen in love with her uncle (Dad #2 to Frill). She knows (somehow??) that both her dad and her uncle loved her mom, so if the loser uncle will just wait a few years he can marry her instead! He brushes her off, but the next day she’s found dead of an apparent suicide.

Realizing that this was somehow Frill’s doing, he marches down to the basement and confronts the murderous child they’ve had locked up for years. She’s now surrounded by screens in, again, true creep AI fashion. How did she get all this while she was locked up? Oh, just the three bug girls she created as friends prior to killing the wife. They’re devoted slaves, I guess. So the uncle says enough of this insanity and seemingly sets Frill on fire.

OH and Frill’s subtitled dialogue also puts “uncle” in quotation marks, implying that the daughter was always Dad #2’s??

Anyway, both brothers are now super obsessed with death and claim that they think Frill has had a hand in lots of girls’ suicides, even now after her own death. This is brought into question later when it’s revealed that they might have just concocted this scheme to try and bring back their daughter. I’m really not sure. Regardless, they use hand-wavey science to create eggs that I guess contain the souls of young girls who have committed suicide, then they sucker in other young girls who have lost people to suicide to try and rescue their loved ones in a dream world, saving others along the way. A tomboyish girl, Momoe, lost a classmate who admitted to loving her, but who Momoe rejected. Rika, a former junior idol, used and rejected an overweight fan only to learn later that she’d starved herself to death. Neiru, the 14yo president of some science company (yup) was attacked by her sister before she jumped off a bridge. Finally Ai, our protagonist, is a victim of bullying who managed to make friends with a single girl, Koito, who then jumped from their school building for unknown reasons. They’re all given the chance to bring these individuals back to life, provided they protect other victims of suicide by defeating the monstrous traumas that drove them to that act in the first place.

And you know what? That concept was great. However, the execution ranges from “Okay, that was pretty good for an anime. Kudos there” to “That’s the most offensive thing I’ve seen in my life.” Needless to say, unpacking all the battles they fight would take a lot more than this already absurd summary. Basically, if you can think of something horrible to happen to young girls (and one trans guy whose existence in that egg undermines the whole message of the episode), there’s an attempt to tackle it here.

During all this the four girls become friends and Ai works through her suspicions about Mr. Sawaki, a teacher at her school. What’s going on with Mr. Sawaki? Uh… everything! He’s somehow connected to Koito’s death, he’s dating Ai’s mom, and Ai apparently loves him too because her friends say so, even though this is never actually addressed and she barely interacts with him. It’s all quite the complication.

In time though the girls complete their “mission” of bringing their loved ones back to life. Rika and Momoe manage it first, only to find that Frill’s bug-girl lackeys have arrived to kill them. Why? Because that’s what Frill does, I guess. Momoe’s crocodile familiar (cute animals the girls were gifted to help them fight) takes a killing blow for her and the bug-lady then proceeds to carve up his corpse and force feed it to Momoe. Fantastic!! Building off of that, the next bug-lady who Rika encounters kills her turtle too, following in the footsteps of her bug-sister by, presumably, forcing her to eat parts of its head. Ai refuses to sacrifice her familiar to stay alive, but luckily the suicide she was protecting turns out to be herself from a parallel universe (that's a thing now!) and she takes the killing blow herself, which is done by pulling out the eye she’s sensitive about (she has heterochromia.) So parallel Ai passes on (again?) and the three girls don’t work through this trauma at all, instead becoming more traumatized through the realization that the loved ones they brought back no longer remember them. They’re alive, but the relationship they all had with them is dead.

It’s about this point that the main storyline wraps up and I’m relieved that there’s an OVA to finish things off. Surely they can somehow bring this all together in 45 minutes.

…25 minutes of that OVA is recap.

So with only about 20 minutes left, we learn that Neiru, the only one to not complete her mission yet, has mysteriously gone missing. It turns out she was an AI/clone/something all along, made to replace her sister and, presumably, that’s what caused the whole stabbing-suicide incident. She successfully brings her sister back, but stays behind in the dream world because Frill promises her she can become human. How is Frill here when she’s dead? How will Neiru become human? Isn’t Frill the “temptation of death” or whatever? There are no answers. A flashback finally reveals that Koito was having a relationship with a teacher at another school, he committed suicide, she transferred, she tried the same thing with Mr. Sawaki, he kept refusing her advances, and finally while threatening suicide to get his attention, she accidentally fell.

(So why was she in the suicide egg if it was an accident??)

Except, all this information comes through Mr. Sawaki himself, there’s a whole subplot about whether he’s really a villain, or if Ai is just making him into one, and this show might as well be titled How Much Pedophilia Can We Put into One Anime? So make of that what you will.

A dead character randomly shows up, but it's fine because she's actually just a version from a parallel world. How did she get here? Why is she here? Lol, it's cute that you think these are answered.

Rika, the character who cuts and almost committed suicide halfway through the show, breaks down saying how much she misses her dead loved ones, right after her friends refused to let her go on another mission that would surely end in her death and… that’s it. That’s all we get about her.

Momoe too, though she’s hopefully just vibing somewhere with that longed-for boyfriend.

Ai transfers schools and then one day randomly remembers that she loves Neiru and rushes back to start cracking eggs again because that will? Somehow?? Let her see Neiru???

When I say there are too many unanswered questions to possibly list here I really, really mean it.

Finally, in a personal attack on me, the protagonist with a name that is literally AI is not in any way an artificial intelligence.

And that’s it! Congratulations, you now “understand” WEP. And see, the funny thing is that the off-the-rails, bat-shit crazy aspects kind of catch you off guard? Yeah, the first episode is fantastic. In fact, I think I got through about six episodes thinking that this was a solid, if at times really messed up anime, but I was willing to shrug off a lot of stuff due solely to the amount of sensitive material they were attempting to cover (which is always quite difficult to do). Probably the only reason I was able to binge so fast was because the first half of the series was so engaging. The characters are charming. The animation is GORGEOUS. There's actually a ton of good here that is also worth yelling about. But then the plot comes in like a freight train and I was left staring dumbfounded at my screen as more and more insanity kept happening. Having watched the "explanations" I am now more confused about the show I just saw.

Phoenix, if you’ve bothered to read this rambling, 3:00am rant: thank you. I think? Idk if I should actually be thanking you or cursing you for tuning me into this, but it was definitely an experience, that’s for sure lol.

I'm off to bed now RIP the chance of having normal dreams ✌️

[got-any-references]

What are your fav beetlebabes headcanons? Also, love your stuff <3

Thank you <3. And thank you for the wait cause oh boy if I don’t answer this ask with a ridiculous amount of art how will I live?

*Digging out the dust covered manuscript that is my nonexistent Beetlebabes fic from under the floorboards* It’s showtime.

So...Lydia is the one who falls first. She is about 17 or 18 at the time, so this is very much an “I have a teen crush on someone I am not supposed to” type of deal. Honestly they fell in love with each other way before that but like, platonically 

Beej is...horribly oblivious XD. Honestly its for the best because Lydia spends the better part of her pre-college summer freaking about because any time her best friend walks in the door her heart wants to go bull-riding in her chest and if she actually has to confront her feelings she might just explode.

Then, just before Lydia was supposed to go away to college, Beetlejuice...disappears. He leaves a note, saying he’ll be back, but weeks turn into months, months turn into a year, and no one either in the living world or the netherworld has seen a hair of him. Lydia goes through college without really knowing what to do with herself, missing what was probably the closest person in her life. She graduates with a journalism degree and a minor in photography. She works for a newspaper as an investigative journalist before breaking off over less than great circumstances and going off on her own.

She’s 25 when she establishes herself as a pivate eye, with an enormous amount of anonymous sources being dead people. Also, this takes place in New York City.

(Yes she absolutely does exorcisms on the side).

She’s following a rather stange missing persons case when one of her sources points to a run down establishment that is 100% totally haunted. Except when she goes there she doesn’t find any ghosts, but rather

Beetlejuice. And he looks awful. And very much human.

Lydia: You look like hell.

Beej: Yeah, I just got back.

...

Beej: Also I’ma pass out now so you better catch me.

So he crashes at Lydia’s place, and the whole thing turns into solving the crime as well as Beej’s  mysterious aquirement of a beating heart and working lungs. He doesn’t remember how that’s happened, only now everything is Too Much with Too Many Feelings. Speaking of feelings, you bet your ass there is PINING. SO much pining. Lydia’s best friend comes back and suddenly those feelings she’d dismissed as a stupid teenage crush come FLOODING BACK. 

While Lydia’s internally feaking out over her feelings (it's totally normal and platonic to wanna kiss your best friend while he sleeps, right??), Beetlejuice is, you guessed it, totally oblivious! To his own feelings especially! All he knows is that it's his best friend only now she seems like a completely different person, and hot. She is now hot. His mad respect for Lydia makes him bury that thought deep, deep down. Also the whole marriage deal is a source on bad memories for both of them and he doesn’t wanna ruin the only good thing he’s ever had and-

Anyway, more pining:

Lydia’s feelings bring out resentment, too. She hates that Beej calls her kid, because that means he still sees her as one, and her ego and her desire for him make her want him to see her, the woman who's seen some real shit in the name of finding the truth, who can take care of herself, and who is very different from that angsty 15 year old girl on the roof. 

It all comes ahead to a big confrontation where Lydia is shot, and Beetlejuice has to drag her to the hospital without any knowledge of how human bodies work and he has no magic so he can’t help her-

The hospital needs to know his relationship to her when they take her away, and Beetlejuice knows they wont let him in unless he’s close family so he is blurts out: “Husband. Yeah, I’m her...husband.”

Lydia wakes up with a patched up hole in her side and Beetlejuice clinging to her hand. She’s happy she’s alive, but also angry, because she could have avoided all of this. She was competent enough to not need anyone to rescue her. 

She wants to get back on the case as soon as possible, she found the key lead, but Beej doesn’t wanna hear it, cause he saw way too much of her blood and he’s not big on how human bodies work, but he's pretty sure that shit’s supposed to stay inside. They’re arguing when the nurse comes in and adresses him as “Mr. Deetz.”

Lydia snatches the clipboard away, sees that he’s told them she’s his wife, and is livid. Because crush or not the wedding thing had a whole lot of baggage she does not want to unpack. She has to confront the fact that her feelings are for someone who manipulated her into marriage at 15 and who she’s not supposed to see in that way but she does anyway.

And Beej, a dumbass but also angry cause she almost died out of a stupid reckless mistake is like: "Why are you all mad? It was a green card thing. It's not like it means anything." And that gets Lyds even more upset, with him cause he's an idiot, and with herself because she's still pining for someone who, she thinks, still sees her as a child. 

Lyds, getting her coat: "Fuck off." 

BJ: "Kid-"

 Lydia: "Stop calling me that! I haven't been a child since my mother died. I haven't been a child since you showed up! I haven't been a child since I've started this, since I moved here, since the first asshole tried to kill me. I've been through literal hell and I've had to pull myself out of it all on my own because I was still here and you left."

There's a beat of silence as Lydia realizes what she just said. 

Lydia: "And that's fine. Because I don't need you. I don't need anyone. You taught me that, at least." She yanks her coat onto her shoulders and turns to go.

 BJ, quietly, but its clear he's angry: "Do you think I wanted to leave?" 

Lydia: "I don't know what you wanted. Do you even know what you wanted?" She pauses at the door, turns to him. "Do you know what you want, Betelgeuse?" 

BJ: "I-" 

He stops. He can't look her in the eye anymore. You. I want you. Lydia scoffs, turns to go. 

BJ: "Lydia, wait-" 

Lydia: "Fuck. Off."

She leaves, and he just stands there, floored by his too little too late realization. Lydia thinks the best thing to do after leaving the hospital with a bullet hole in her side and hopped up on painkillers is to go get drunk! Self-preservation? None

Beetlejuice finally finds her drunk off her ass and suddenly in a great mood. He grabs her under the arms like "Whelp. Time to go." 

Lydia: "Nooo come on-" 

BJ: "Aren't you on hospital drugs? Doesn't that shit kill you breathers if you mix it all up?" 

Lydia: ":D I stopped taking them :'D it hurts like a bitch." 

BJ: "I guess I have the shared braincell now. Okay, time to go."

He manages to get her in the car without incident, but when he gets in the driver's seat suddenly Lydia's all over him.

BJ, with a lap full of drunk Lydia: "What. What are you doing." 

Lydia: "Beeetlejuice." 

BJ: "Yeees?" 

Lydia, smiling all dopey as she cups his cheeks: "Beeetlejuuuice."

BJ: "What" 

Lydia's finger hovers over his nose, as if to boop him. He closes his eyes. And suddenly her lips are on his. She tastes like alcohol and hospital food and as she pulls away he can't think. Then she starts laughing. "Ha! Gotchaaa! Classic Bait and Switch!"

And he’s pissed.

BJ: "Ha. Ha. Good one, Lyds." 

He dumps her out of his lap and into the passenger seat. Lydia blinks in confusion. Now she's cold. She wants to ask, but her mental faculties aren't all with her at the moment. He drives them home and helps her up the stairs before dumping her onto her bed. "Well. Bye." Lydia scrambles up the bed. The car ride gave her enough time to be at least a bit sober, and everything before getting here is blurry. "Where are you going?" Beetlejuice turns around, the widest smile on his face. She's confused for a moment before she realizes he's vibrating with rage. "Ya said you want me gone? Great! You don't need me, you can do your weird little suicidal quest thing yourself!" Lydia looks lost. They had a fight but she'd rarely seen him this angry. "If its about the thing at the hospital, I didn't- I didn't mean it-"

Beetlejuice: "Really? You'd think you'd be glad to have me gone. Why would you want a creep like me around? The whole marriage thing didn't just disappear, after all! Great to know you can still pull one on me, huh?"

Lydia: "Pull what, Beetlejuice-"

She remembers, hazily, the car ride.

They stare at each other for a moment Beej is breathing heavily, he's not used to living person emotions, ones you can feel with your whole body instead of just as an abstract thing, but its clear he's holding back

Lydia: "I wasn't-" 

Beej: "You weren't what?"

 Lydia (quietly): "It wasn't a joke."

The angry grin slips off Beej's face. He suddenly looks very, very tired. She might have believed just now that he'd lived for millennia. 

 Beej: “Why are you doin' this, Lyds? Did you know the whole damn time? It's not like I was gonna do anything, I just thought- I just-”

Lydia suddenly realizes that they are having two different conversations. And something else. She looks away, trying to wrap her head around it, and Beetlejuice doesn't read it correctly. He turns to go. 

Lydia: “Wait!”

 She jumps off the bed, feeling the whole world tip over slightly, still drunk, and stumbled over to him. He catches her instinctively as she grips his forearms for support. 

Lydia: “Beej. Beej, look at me.” 

She takes his face in her hands, and turns it toward her. He looks so lost, like one word from her might actually break him. She'd only seen that look on his face once before, and she never wants to again.

Lydia takes a breath. 

Lydia: “Beetlejuice, I-”

Aaand then she throws up all over his shoes.

She doesn't quite remember what happened next, only that she was in the bathroom, leaning against the door, the toilet was flushed, she was sweating, and he wasn't there. 

Lydia: “Beej?” 

Beetlejuice (through the door): “...hi”

Lydia: “What-”

BJ: “-happened? Well, that's a story!” 

His voice sounds cheerful, but it’s shaking slightly 

BJ: “First ya threw up all over us both! then that little experiment of yours with mixing the meds went off, and you started babbling about...rocks? Then we got here, you heaved out the rest of your insides, and then ya kicked me out and said you were gonna shower, and now we're sitting here, so, yeah”

Lydia: “...Are you still covered in puke?” 

BJ:”...yeah”

Lydia: “...sorry?” 

BJ: “Pshh, what's a best friend if ya can't throw up on 'im a couple times.”

They both fall silent

Beetlejuice (quietly): “Lyds, do ya still want me here?”

...

 Lydia takes the time to find the words. Want him here? After everything, he was still asking that question. Did he still think, after all this time, that she'd throw him out at the smallest inconvenience? Would he ever stop thinking that way? Why did he think so now? Was it because he- Because he-

Lydia: “I love you.”

The other side of the door is silent. 

Lydia: “I love your stupid laugh. You sound like a fucking cartoon villain, its so fucking obnoxious. I love your jokes, all of them, even the shitty ones- you always look so god damn proud when you say them.”

Is she crying? She tries to wipe at her face, but the tears keep coming. 

Lydia: “I loved you since that last day on the roof, and when you left-” 

Her throat closes up. She chokes back on her tears, she has to finish it, he has to hear it. 

Lydia: “When you left I thought I might die again.” 

Lydia: “I kept seeing things, dumb branding on cereal boxes, that shitty college play I went to, my first client, and I kept thinking aw, Beej would have a field day with this one. I thought about what you'd say. You were like a voice I couldn't scrape out of my head, I thought I was going crazy, I thought I'd imagined it all, some lonely little girl with no life or friends, needing someone to talk to- But you'd been real, and then you were just gone- “

The words dissolve in her throat as she sobs, pulling her knees up to her chest. She feels like a child now. She feels more childlike than she had at 15. She’s clinging to a scrap of hope she doesn’t have a right to demand from him. And yet he'd said- 

Lydia: “I love you. Please, don't leave.”

They sit is silence for a while. Lydia tries to stop crying. Then, quietly from the other side of the door:

BJ: “You know what I thought when I first saw you?”

Lydia: “Here’s a suicidal teen haha what a riot?”

BJ: “What? No, not then. Like now.”

Lydia: “Oh. What?”

BJ: “I thought wow, who the hell is that and why is she so dang hot?”

Lydia laughs.

BJ: “And then I thought oh God that’s Lydia.”

Something in his voice makes her pause. Maybe it’s the strange fear that she feels coming from him.

BJ: “It’s like, you’re Lydia, and I don’t know shit about you! You’re the same person, but you’re a stranger to me. Lyds, do you know how fucking terrifying that is? You’re someone I never got to know because of a shitty decision I don’t even remember making.”

he falls silent. She can hear the pain in his voice. And something else. Longing. 

Beetlejuice: “I’d like to.”

Lydia opens the door. Beetlejuice scrables up, only for her to throw her arms around him. 

They figure it out. It’s a slowburn 200k fic that I’ll never write so it takes a while for them to actually kiss, or do anything more, but they get there. 

This turned out...ridiculously long XD. I don’t know what you meant by “headcanons”, exactly, but have this instead.

Thanks for the ask!