#did i totally ramble and this post is no longer about the ask? yeah. but its blog so

[send-me-a-puffalope]

i was awake at three am last night but i was super delusional and sleep-deprived and i was thinking of your lizzie and nessa au and i thought “what if in this au there was also an evan and he died and william adopted gregory to replace him the same way he adopted vanessa to replace elizabeth so these two kids are forced to be these kids they never knew with a father who they love but hate at the same time and gregory dies and possesses golden freddy with evan and then yk there’s papillomatosis” and i convinced my self you wrote the fic that way so when i read it in the morning i was like where’s gregory 😭 and then i used my brain for two seconds 💀💀💀

Why is this kind of inspiring tho FTYGUHIJ not one for one but like. The thought of having false memories of someone that never existed? Maybe in a different AU (with no Elizabeth dying and Vanessa getting adopted), Vanessa looking back on her past, which she believes to be more or less normal, with her father and her little brother Gregory. But as she realizes that William was not as perfect of a father as she remembered, she digs more into her past and is hit with the finding that: she can't find any trace of Gregory's existance. This boy that she had so many fond memories of and watched grow up didn't exist and she was the only one who remembered him at all (is this inspired a bit by my relationship with my dreams? absofruitly)

And perhaps there could be something similar to the Silver Eyes books where Vanessa finds out that her entire memory of her childhood was a complete fabrication. None of it actually existed. The normal, happy childhood she remembered was not like that at all. Gregory was not her younger brother but rather a victim of William's that she witnessed die- who she ends up finding possessing the Golden Freddy suit. That's all I've thought of, the plot factory in my brain is working on limited fuel choo choo, your dream brain was kinda onto smth.

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 06.

saturday

ꕥ part 01. | part 02. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: mentions of IKEA, awkwardness, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~2.5k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should ꕥ a/n: hi guys! thank you so much for reading my work. i just wanted to apologise for the shorter chapter and that it took longer to update than usual. i was planning to post this originally around valentine's day but university started and things got a tiny bit busy. [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

Pouring salt and lemon juice on an open wound would’ve felt like a walk in the park compared to asking for any kind of help or favour. You always handled everything independently and on your own way. You were ready to drop everything on the spot and lend a hand to those who asked but always made sure to deal with your problems by yourself. Among other things, this aspect of yours was a mixture of stubbornness and pride.

So, imagine how embarrassed you felt on that sunny Saturday morning, with your phone pressed to your ears as you anxiously waited for your call to be answered. It’s so dumb, they just got back from the case yesterday. I should hang…

“Hey pretty girl, what’s up?” Derek’s usual playful tone cut through your thoughts, stopping you from pressing the little red icon. You were relieved that you weren’t the one to wake him or at least judging by the lack of raspiness in his tone, he was already up.

“Are you perhaps… free today?” you asked as you quickly paced back and forth in your unusually empty bedroom. One of your cats, who was still very much a kitten, energetically chased after your feet, causing you to come across even less collected, since you had to look out for the little furball too if you didn’t want to accidentally step on him.

“For a woman like you, I’m always free.” Hummed the man at the other end of the line, immediately easing your nerves a bit. You rolled your eyes and let a playful smile spread across your face, which was wiped off just as quickly.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake Nick...!” before you could’ve said anything else, like probably an explanation for why you were calling your colleague, a low scream escaped your lips. “Sorry, my cat is just devil’s incarnate, and he decided it’d be fun to claw his way up on my bare legs.”

“For a moment I got scared that it wasn’t really me you were looking for.”

“Impossible, you know you’re always on my mind, handsome.”

You learned quite early on that Derek’s flirty demeanour was part of his personality and it was never serious when it came to the team. Even in amongst you, he knew that not everyone was open to suggestive comments or playful dirty talk. He made sure to never make anyone feel uncomfortable. Luckily, you were completely okay with this and even became a ‘partner in crime’.

“Okay, out with it. Why did you call?”

“Ah, I need a favour. I know you guys just came home yesterday and it’s totally okay if you say no…”

“Babygirl, I don’t even know what to say no to.”

“Yeah right, sorry. I need to buy a new bed because my last one was older than me and a few weeks ago it decided to end its life, which I can understand. So, I’ve been sleeping on the sofa. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly call it sleeping. And I know that I am even funnier when I’m sleep deprived but now that I’ll soon be back in action, it’d be nice to be well rested, you know. And yes, I could just walk into an IKEA, choose a bed and ask for a delivery, but…” You were definitely rambling and overexplaining yourself, as you did whenever you got flustered or felt awkward. Just like when you gave Reid a gift, you still haven’t recovered from that. The others quickly got used to this, given that they already had a yapper in their company. However, it didn’t mean you weren’t self-conscious if you noticed what you were doing.

“Let me stop you right there. You need help with taking home and putting together a bed, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be there in an hour, but I’m bringing help. These muscles can do a hella lot of things but getting a whole bed to the 7th floor is different.”

“Of course. Thank you, Derek.”

After the call ended, you stood in one place in the middle of your room, trying to calm yourself down, contemplating your life. Asking for a favour shouldn’t make you feel like you’re being hunted for sport. But it did, especially since it included one of your co-workers.

Originally, you planned on getting this done with your brothers, but both were out of the country for two more weeks. You’ve read so many past case files where it later turned out that the UnSubs were previously in one of the BAU member’s homes as maintenance workers or something similar that it made you a tiny bit paranoid. This is one of the reasons why you preferred to fix everything you could by yourself. It was to avoid letting unknown people into your flat. You weren’t that worried about Morgan’s unfamiliar friend though, given that you completely trusted the profiler.

Well, colour you surprised when an hour later as you hopped into the backseat of the black Range Rover Autobiography, you were met with passenger princess Spencer Reid.

“Oh… Hi.” your voice got awkwardly high-pitched. You avoided looking at him both directly and through the rear-view mirror. You weren’t quite prepared for this scenario. It was bad enough that the anxiety caused by being afraid of becoming a nuisance for Derek filled your entire body, now Dr Asshole was there too. And you appreciated the help, you really did. But now this also meant that the man with whom you had an indefinable relationship will enter your home. The home, which was so obviously, undeniably you. It was almost like a piece of your bare soul on display both in a good and bad way.

“Hi.”

“So, IKEA?” clarified Derek before things could’ve gotten even more uncomfortable.

“Yes. I already chose which one I’d like so I won’t be taking up much of your time, promise,” you said and as proof, you held up your phone, with the website open and the specific furniture on the screen.

“Oh, Tonstad was mentioned in a travel brochure I’ve read a few years ago when I was looking for places to visit.” After Spencer took a glance at your phone, his eyes almost literally lit up. He enthusiastically explained what the name of the chosen bedframe and mattress meant. His hands were just as expressive as his mouth. It was sweet, how he probably wasn’t aware the constant movement of his fingers. “It’s a little Norwegian village and was the administrative centre of the old municipality of Tonstad from 1905 until its dissolution in 1960. In 1960, it became the part of Sirdal, and it continued to be the administrative centre there.”

Weirdly, his slightly rambling, lengthy explanation somewhat put you at ease. It was one of those rare moments when his facts weren’t undermining your professional ideas and theories. These facts were simply just facts, it was interesting listening to them, and he was able to keep your attention so much so, that you didn’t even notice how curiously you stared at him.

However, he did. Since you had no reason to use contact lenses on an early Saturday when you weren’t working, those damned glasses were on you again. The sight basically magnetized his gaze to your face through the rear-view mirror, automatically triggering the memory of his weird dream about you from a few weeks before.

For a quick, passing moment he became annoyed. The genius didn’t quite understand why a simple object, invented around the 13th century—with its precursors dated back to the Eastern Han Dynasty in China—had such an effect on him. Spectacles have been around for a few hundred years now, it was quite literally a basic, everyday necessity for almost half the population. At times even he himself had to wear it. So then, why in the hells did you have this weird, unexplainable effect on him? It wasn’t fair, how you were able to cause a ruckus in his extraordinary brain without even trying.

Much to his dismay, he was very well aware how you looked at him from behind. The way the Sun shined on your irises captivated him. All your attention was his. And he had to come to the unfortunate conclusion that he very much liked this.

×××

“Is it okay if I let out my cats now?” you asked the men in your bedroom that got cluttered and chaotic rather quickly. They were in the midst of putting your bed together, however, it didn’t go as smoothly as they planned. Derek wanted to use a simple thing, called common sense, and build the bedframe how it seemed right while Reid insisted on strictly following the manual which he already read and memorised word for word. On top of that, they didn’t let you help them, not even a tiny bit. The one thing that both agreed on was that you’re not going to do anything physically exhausting while you still have a healing wound on your side.

“You have cats?” asked the doctor and he even turned his precious attention from the wooden parts to you.

“No Reid, I just prefer to eat and drink from a bowl on the ground.” the sarcastic reaction came out before you could even register it and, in a way, you almost immediately felt guilty about it. He was there to help you. There was no need for hostility. But you were very much on edge, more than usually, since this was the first time they were in your home. You were aware of the fact that just by looking at the environment you created as a home, he was able to profile the shit out of you, and you didn’t like this at all.

You had various kinds of potted plants everywhere—all safe for your pets—, even on top of stacked books that were scattered around the living room. Your dish rack was filled with colourful mugs, plates and bowls, most of them had different patterns and shapes. You bought the majority of those from artisans who set up stands at different fairs. All of them were unique but the colour scheme matched nicely, making your kitchenware organised and fun at the same time. Some were made to look like a blooming flower, some had animal or geek features on them. Penelope was over the moon when she first saw it, so much so that it wouldn’t have surprised you if she sneaked a few out of your place at the end of the occasional get-togethers.

The bookshelf at the wall between your kitchen and living room immediately caught Reid’s attention, but assembling your furniture was the main priority, so he forced himself not to pay much attention to it. Secretly though, he hoped he could take a closer look at what you read and by what system you organised your books, just so he could possibly get to know you more without having to engage in your usual bickering.

Before the doctor could’ve answered your last sentence, you took a swift turn and left your bedroom. A few minutes later the sound of long, drawn-out meows filled the small flat.

“Yeaaah, I know, I know. I’m sorry.” you answered to your pets in a high-pitched tone. The first one to run out of the bathroom was an adult, slightly chubby black cat with deep, amber eyes. You found her and her brother—the sweetest little calico, who was still chilling in the cold sink, even though you opened the door for him to leave—on a hot summer’s night, during a storm that was one of the worsts you’ve ever seen or experienced a little more than two years ago. The kitten named Nick, is an entirely different story. You found him in a dumpster, near your apartment, squaring it up with a raccoon. He hasn’t calmed down ever since. “But I locked you up for your own sakes. And it was only for half an hour.” To this, another long meow was your answer, to which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They were dramatic, for sure.

“Should I consider my win on the last case as a result of you, not having a bed?” Reid’s voice almost made you jump; it was so sudden. He was leaning to the doorframe, curious eyes diligently taking in every single tiny detail of you and your surroundings. You were in the process of taking the sweetest little prince out of the sink. The long-haired calico was rather scaredy and hated unfamiliar people but was a total lovebug for those whom he knew. Unfortunately, the tall profiler wasn’t amongst these persons, so the cat’s instincts took over and, in a blink, he clawed his way out of your warm embrace to hide behind the washing machine.

“Shit! Daisy…” you yelped as you became more and more aware of the tingling, hot pain that spread across your upper and lower arms.

“Ah, I… Khm. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I knew he is afraid of strangers, I should’ve left him alone, but I felt guilty about locking them up for the time you got the bed to my room.” you explained the situation while you started to clean the shallow injuries with some warm water. There were only a few scratches, luckily, but they burned like hell. “The other two will be okay, though. Jordan usually sits on top of the cat tree and judges everyone while Nick brings doom and destruction to all things in existence.”

It didn’t require much brain power to put two and two together, Spencer almost immediately recognised the connection between the names of your cats, however, he didn’t mention a thing. He wasn’t sure how you’d react, and he didn’t want to start a fight. Up until now you’ve only met each other outside of work when the team went out for drinks and even then, you tended to avoid interacting with him. So, instead he silently reached for the soft, salmon-coloured towel and handed it to you, his watchful gaze never leaving your figure.

thank you again for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! i hope it isn't a problem that this fic is getting longer, i'm just taking slow burn seriously (only thing i can do lmao) taglist: @halfbloodwriter @starrystormwritings @kspencer34 @maisyyyyyy @theseerbetweenus @throwaway-things divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[mitskissecondborndaughter]

new intro post ! except its mostly the same as before but … yeah

if you’re new here, please give the “before you follow” + DNI section a quick read!! thank you!!^_^

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･: ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚:°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

⟢ my name is Emi ! (Em, Emilita)

⟢ my older blog was @/mitskisfirstborndaughter but it was deactivated :(

⟢ i’m 18 ! (26/01)

⟢ I don’t care much about gender; I’m a girl but you can really just address me or perceive me however u want, idgaf

⟢ I use she/he/they pronouns to refer to myself, but once again, you can refer to me however u want, i don’t care !!

⟢ first year psychology student !

⟢ I’m argentinian! I’ll make sure that everyone knows I am because I am really annoying abt it

⟢ I speak spanish (native) and english (second language)

↳ if I make any grammar mistakes in english PLEASE cut me some slack, the language is weird. but also feel free to correct me on them!

⟢ I don’t mind tags / asks / anything of the sort !! I’m a bit awkward but I like interacting w people! (as for DMs, I’d rather only get DMs from mutuals / ppl i follow, but I don’t mind them either way!)

⟢ this time around I’ll try to tag my posts to keep my blog a bit more organized.

↳ text posts are tagged as #demented rambling (until I come up w something better😭)

↳ my art is tagged as (you wont guess it)… #my art!! like I did on my previous blog!!! groundbreaking..

↳ posts about music are tagged as #em being totally normal about music (im so fucking creative)

↳ that one kind of post that i KNOW will peak at like 3 notes but i post anyway because its my blog and i do what i want will be tagged as #self indulgent posting. expect maybe a Not Insane TMI or just things that dont have a target audience that exists other than. like. myself and maybe 3 other people in the planet

⟢ I don’t think I really post anything that warrants an age restriction, but I’d prefer keeping the blog 15+ for my own comfort ^_^ (current mutuals / mutuals from my old acc are ok though!!!)

⟢ i am cringe. and i am loud about it. sorry in advance

⟢ I don’t have separate blogs, so i might mix fandom stuff or just random text posts. While I mostly do post about MCR i will post about other things as well!

⟢ I mostly will post in english but I might OCASIONALLY post in spanish too (if u ever want a translation of a post I made or even someone else’s feel free to ask, I’ll be glad to help!!)

⟢ I suffer from a few mental health issues I won’t disclose; I don’t feel comfortable discussing them online publicly and I’ll likely never post vents here, so rather take this as a request to please be patient, as my social skills might be a little flawed, thank you!!! ^_^

-ˋˏ��┈┈┈┈ DNI / DNF .ᐟ .ᐟ

I think it’s insane I have to clarify this but there are assholes out there so. LGBTQPHOBIC IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM, RACISTS, ABLEISTS, N*ZIS, MISOGYNISTS, REPUBLICANS, TERFS, PROSHIPPERS (especially waycest shippers. if i catch any of yall here its on sight), TRUMP SUPPORTERS, ELON MUSK SUPPORTERS, MILEI SUPPORTERS (i swear to god), AI USERS, CONSERVATIVES, MAPS, kids under 13, pro ana/gore/sh/nsfw accounts (please please don’t make me see that. ty)

↳(and as an artist myself if i catch anyone disrespecting artists or their work whether it is by reposting without credits, posting AI art or anything like that, i can and WILL shame you)

(I don’t know if I missed anything but honestly i know these don’t do anything, so either way i just kinda.. block ppl)

⟢ im very VERY annoying abt my interests … expect a lot a LOTTTT of rambling abt stuff

⟢ SHOWS/MOVIES I LIKE: nana, gokinjo monogatari, sex and the city, howl’s moving castle (and honestly all ghibli movies), arcane, death note, kamisama kiss, ouran high school host club, lovely complex, madoka magica, kaiba (2008), fruits basket, hellsing ultimate, monster (naoki urasawa)

⟢ BOOKS/MANGA (mostly manga😭): junji ito’s work (so far I’ve read tomie, black paradox, sensor, uzumaki and theres more but i forgot), paradise kiss, kitchen princess, no longer human (dazai osamu), toilet bound hanako kun

⟢ VIDEOGAMES I LIKE: silent hill (1, 2, 3, 4), yume nikki, resident evil (4, 5, 6), sally face, fran bow, alice madness returns (MY BELOVED😭<3), agatha knife, I have no mouth and I must scream, metal gear solid 2, roblox (i literally only play dress to impress. im not a real gamer im a dress up warrior idgaf)

⟢ OTHER INTERESTS!!: drawing, painting, writing poetry (i have a side account where i’ve posted all my poems, you can ask for it but i can assure you they’re ass), i love LOVE LOVEEE FASHION SO MUCH, i like art in general a lot!!, psychology, collecting trinkets (dont think they count as trinkets, but i also love littlest pet shops!!!), music (this one gets a whole entire separate section)

⟢ FAVORITE ARTISTS: mitski (who would’ve guessed …), my chemical romance, pierce the veil, hole, jack off jill, solya, rob zombie, allie x, jazmin bean, chappell roan, korn, lady gaga, miranda!, dazey and the scouts, björk

⟢ OTHER ARTISTS I LIKE: sleeping with sirens, panic! at the disco, paramore, siouxsie and the banshees, the cure, soda stereo, gustavo cerati, pinkpantheress, red velvet, POiSON GiRL FRiEND, bikini kill, limp bizkit, le tigre, babes in toyland, ca7riel & paco amoroso, aespa, linkin park, SHINee, head automatica, lea jaffe, enon, yves, ARTMS, akira yamaoka, jun togawa, kalafina, nastyona, nenagenix

⟢ SEEN LIVE: mitski (2022), miranda! (2023, 2024), pierce the veil (2024), hozier (2024), limp bizkit (2024), seeing ptv 12/12/25, seeing linkin park 31/10/25 !!!!!

⟢ FAVORITE ALBUMS (not in order):

three cheers for sweet revenge (MCR) (my beloved forever) ❀ lush (mitski) (also my beloved forever) ❀ a fever you can’t sweat out (P!ATD) ❀ Por cesárea (Dillom) ❀ Pretty. Odd. (P!ATD) ❀ live through this (hole) ❀ selfish machines (PTV) ❀ clear hearts grey flowers (JOJ) ❀ the fame monster (lady gaga) ❀ hellbilly deluxe (rob zombie) ❀ fancy that (pinkpantheress) ❀ jewel box EP (solya) ❀ pretty on the inside (hole) ❀ girl with no face (allie x) ❀ a flair for the dramatic (PTV) ❀ collide with the sky (PTV) ❀ misadventures (PTV) ❀ this is why (paramore) ❀ i brought you my bullets you brought me your love (MCR) ❀ bocanada (gustavo cerati) ❀

❀ pinterest

❀ spotify

❀ spotistats / stats.fm

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･: ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚:°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

thank you for taking the time to read this!!<3 have a great day!!

last updated: 30/04/25 [DDMMYY]

[threewaywithdelusion]

Steve & Robin Bodyswap AU

I'm probably never going to finish this fic because I struggle with follow-through on long fics, but I enjoy this section so I thought I'd post it. At this point, it's September 1986 and Steve and Robin have been body-swapping for about a month (they can't control when it happens). Trigger warnings for homophobia and use of the word queer as a slur.

When the dizzy feeling passed, Robin was in Steve’s body, looking into his bathroom mirror. She was almost naked, only a towel around her waist, and it looked like Steve had been halfway through his hair routine. Robin sighed and picked up Steve’s hairspray and a comb, trying to finish creating Steve’s famous hairstyle. It was harder than Steve made it look, and when she finished it looked a little off-center somehow, like it had melted a little to the side. Was his hair longer than before? Whatever. This was as good as she could get it, so Steve would have to live with it. 

The phone rang as Robin returned to the bedroom. 

“Hello?” Robin answered. 

“Hey,” Steve said. “Do you remember where you’re going tonight?”

“No,” Robin said. “I was planning on doing my English paper and then repainting my nails. I didn’t think we’d switch so late in the day.”

Steve sighed. “Me neither. That’s why I scheduled a date.”

“A date!” Robin shrieked. 

She couldn’t go on a date. With a girl. As Steve Harrington. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, sounding guilty. “Listen. Her name is Jenny and you’re supposed to pick her up at seven. Her address is written on a post-it on the kitchen table.”

“Steve,” Robin said. “I can’t go on this date.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because I’m not you! Because she wants to go on a date with Mr. Cool and not some band nerd who rambles when she’s nervous, like, I don’t know, when she’s in front of a pretty girl. I can’t go on my first date with a girl in your body! And I can’t drive! I’ll crash the car and kill us both.”

“You’re not so bad anymore,” Steve said. “At worst, you’ll get into a fender-bender.”

“And what about all the other reasons this is a terrible idea?” Robin demanded. 

“Do you actually mind?” Steve asked, voice small. “Going on your first date with a girl in my body?”

She knew if she said yes, he would let her cancel. But there was something vulnerable in his voice and that made her stop and think. 

Did she mind? For the past three years, Robin had been dreaming of going on a date with a girl. She’d imagined what it would be like to hold a door open for a girl, to hold hands under the table, to giggle at her jokes and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night. And she’d imagined doing all that in her own body, with someone who was into her. 

Part of her wanted that. Part of her was holding onto that dream of an ideal first date, the way some girls dreamed of a perfect first time. 

But also, Robin had never gone on a date with a girl because she lived in Hawkins. She probably wouldn’t get to go on a date until after she graduated and moved away. Maybe this was her chance to go on a date with a girl. It might not fully count, but it would still be her on the date. Her and this girl. It could at least be good practice for her real first date.

“I don’t mind,” Robin said. “But Steve, I’m going to ruin this.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything,” Steve said. “Just be yourself. Or, well, maybe not yourself, cause you’re supposed to be me. But you’ll be fine!”

Robin groaned. “Steeeeve.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“You won’t be mad at me if I totally tank your date, right?”

“No,” Steve said. “You’re going on a date for me. That’s like, really nice, even if it goes wrong. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Robin snorted. “Well I would hope not, Dingus. If you’d been bodyswapping with someone else and you hadn’t brought it up by now, I’d be pissed.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, no other bodyswappers. I still think it was the Russian drugs.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t the drugs!”

“It totally was!”

Robin eyed the clock on Steve’s bedside table. “I have to go if I’m going to make it to your date on time.” Especially if she drove at Robin-speed to pick the girl up. 

“Okay,” Steve said. “Remember, her name is Jenny and her address is on the kitchen table. I’ll start the rough draft of your essay and then you can fix it tomorrow.”

Robin winced. Steve seemed to be enjoying school more now that he was in her body and his dyslexia didn’t get in the way, but he was still a terrible essay writer. There probably wouldn’t be much usable material in whatever he wrote, but she appreciated that he was trying to take the burden of half her schoolwork. 

“Thanks,” she said. “Maybe just do an outline?”

Steve paused for a moment. When he spoke again, there was something off about his voice. “Yeah, okay.”

Robin wanted to push, but she really didn’t have time and her stomach was already starting to churn with nerves at the idea of going on a date. She said her goodbyes and hung up the phone before going to Steve’s closet. She didn’t know how to dress for a date, especially as a boy, but presumably Jenny wanted to go out with Steve, so Robin pulled out jeans and a polo. She winced as she looked in the mirror, King Steve staring back. Swoopy hair, pretentious polo, and handsome face – all looking horribly out of place with Robin in his body, shoulders slumping in uncomfortably. 

Robin looked away. 

She found the post-in on the kitchen and Steve’s keys on the hook by the front door before sliding nervously behind the wheel of Steve’s car. She took a deep breath and slid the key into the ignition, backing painfully slowly out of the driveway. Her nerves increased as she drove, building like a knot in her stomach. It was so odd how Steve’s body handled nervousness. In her own body, Robin would be bouncing, or pacing, or flapping her hands, anything to expel this nervous energy. When Robin was anxious, she needed to move, to babble, to get it all out. 

Steve’s body held onto anxiety, using it to twist his insides tighter and tighter. His shoulders ached from the tension he held and his heart started pounding and the idea of moving didn’t feel helpful, not to the body Robin was in. 

But she wanted to move, and the mixed signals just added to the confused anxiety in her body. 

When she arrived at Jenny’s house, she had to knock at the door. Luckily, a girl opened it, dressed nicely and looking the right age to be Steve’s date.

This was confirmed when the girl smiled and said, “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi,” Robin said. Way to go Steve! Jenny was pretty, long blonde curls and big blue eyes. She was wearing a sundress with a square neckline that drew attention to the line of her collarbones, and a short skirt that revealed long, smooth legs, tan from the summer sun. Her hands, fiddling with the hem of her dress, were decorated by thin gold rings on each finger. 

“Like what you see?”

Robin flinched before she registered Jenny’s teasing tone. 

Jenny was flirting. She thought she was being eyed by Steve Harrington and she liked it, so she was teasing him for staring.

But it wasn’t Steve. It was Robin, admiring a pretty girl. Robin, who lived in fear of being caught staring and being chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks and crosses and Save the Children posters. 

Robin managed a shaky smile for Jenny. “You look really pretty.”

Jenny looked pleased. She called a goodbye into the house and followed Robin to the car. Robin took a deep breath as she slid behind the wheel again. 

“How was your day?” Jenny asked. 

“Good,” Robin said. She’d gone to work this morning as Steve, then finished the afternoon at school as herself. She’d gone to band practice, where they had started a new song. But that wasn’t what Steve had done with his day. Or, well, it wouldn’t have been if they weren’t swapping bodies. Steve had graduated. “I had work.”

“What made you want to work at Family Video?” Jenny asked. 

Robin couldn’t answer for a moment, focused on making a left turn. Then there was a pothole to swerve and a stop sign to navigate. By the time Robin thought of Jenny’s question again, the silence was awkward and heavy. 

“Uh, movies?” Robin said. “Yeah, I, uh, like movies. Big movie fan.”

She wished she could see Jenny’s expression, but Robin had to watch the road. 

“Okay,” Jenny said slowly, sounding skeptical. “What movies do you like?”

“Grease,” Robin said, naming one of Steve’s favorites. “

“Oh I love Grease!” Jenny said. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

Robin hated Grease. She thought it was patriarchal and ridiculous and taught women that they should change to win the love of men who treated them badly. Sure, Sandy looked hot at the end, but it came at the cost of her personality and autonomy and self-expression. Robin hated the idea that a girl was supposed to conform to what a guy wanted of her. Why couldn’t Danny be the one to change?

“Yeah, it’s romantic,” Robin said. 

They hit a curb as she took a turn and Jenny let out a little yelp. Robin refocused on the road. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I, uh, ran out of contacts? And lost my glasses? I don’t think I can talk and drive right now.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, sounding nervous and unimpressed. That was fair. Robin wouldn’t like it if the guy driving her around said he couldn’t see shit.  “Yeah, sure.”

They drove in silence until they got to the diner. 

[Jenny asks about basketball and robin fumbles her way through answers]

[They kiss goodnight on Jenny’s doorstep]

As soon as Jenny entered her house, Robin felt her face crumple. She retreated to the car and drove back to Steve’s house, shaking a little. She wanted to cry, but Steve’s body wouldn’t. There was a lump in her throat and an ache in her chest, but her eyes were dry. 

She hated this. She hated that the date had gone so badly. She hated that her first kiss had been stolen. That it hadn’t been her Jenny had wanted to kiss and it hadn’t been her lips that had been kissed. She hated that Steve had sent her on this date. She hated that she’d agreed. She hated Steve’s stupid body, which wasn’t hers and was foreign and masculine and wouldn’t even fucking cry when she wanted it to. 

Robin parked and stormed into Steve’s house. She slammed the door behind her, which felt good, so she did it a few more times. Slam. Slam. Slam. When she felt out of breath, she collapsed against the entryway wall. 

Steve’s reflection stared back at her from the mirror above the key hooks. 

She couldn’t take it. She ran up the stairs, bypassing Steve’s bedroom and entering his parents’ room. She’d never been in here before because Steve acted like it was forbidden, but she didn’t care right now. She found Mrs. Harrington’s vanity and started ripping the drawers open, upending makeup and hair supplies until she found several bottles of nail polish. 

They were all boring pinks and reds, exactly what a housewife would wear, but Robin grabbed the darkest red and took it downstairs. She grabbed a David Bowie record and blasted it, propping her hands on her thighs and starting to paint her nails. Her hands were shaking, but she stubbornly pushed through, trying to paint a neat maroon coat onto Steve’s nails. 

She stopped and stared after she finished the first hand. 

It was Steve’s hand still, broad and square-fingered, but it felt better with the nail polish. A bit more feminine. 

Robin had spent so long in her own body trying to express herself without femininity. She didn’t like dresses or skirts or long hair. Her makeup was smudgy and her jewelry chunky and she liked to look good but not in a girly-girl way. 

In Steve’s body though, she felt like she had to compensate for its masculinity. She was still a girl, even if she wasn’t a girly one, and seeing a man staring back at her in the mirror was uncomfortable. She wanted to put Steve’s body in a dress and grow out his hair and do his makeup. But that all felt like a violation of Steve’s will for what he wanted to do with his body. She was just a guest here – she couldn’t change anything he couldn’t quickly change back. Even if she spent a solid half of her waking hours in this body. 

Steve’s hand looked good in maroon nail polish. It felt a bit more like hers. 

***

Steve woke up in his own body, which was rare these days. 

He was in his bed and he had a headache, which wasn’t that unusual. But it wasn’t a spike of pain in his skull, no oncoming migraine. This felt like a headache from crying. 

Steve went to the bathroom mirror and squinted at his reflection. Maybe Robin had a point and Steve should get glasses. His bad eyesight was much more noticeable and annoying when he spent half his time looking at the world through Robin’s 20/20 eyes. 

With just a little squinting though, Steve found that he was right; his eyes were red. Robin had been crying. 

Steve’s heart sank. He’d thought Robin would call after the date yesterday, but he hadn’t heard from her. He hadn’t heard from her, and she had cried herself to sleep. What had happened?

He’d been kind of happy when Robin hadn’t called, which he felt bad about. But she hadn’t wanted him to write a draft of her paper, just an outline. It was stupid to be upset about that. But for the first time in his life, Steve was following what was happening in Robin’s English and history classes. They were way more interesting when he could read without getting frustrated, and he’d wanted to write the paper to help Robin but also to see what he could do when he actually understood the book. 

But Robin didn’t think he was smart enough to write her essay. 

Which was fine, obviously, Steve knew that Robin was way smarter than him. He shouldn’t be upset just because Robin knew that too. 

It was fine. The problem was that something had made Robin cry. 

He was picking her up for school, so he would ask on the drive. 

Steve started getting ready, brushing his teeth and doing his hair. There was too much hairspray in it, the way there usually was when Robin had been the last one to style it, so he brushed it through a bit extra to try to get some of the stiffness out. 

There was also nail polish on his fingers. 

Steve stopped for a long moment to stare. The nail polish was pretty, a dark red color and super smooth. Steve had tried to paint Robin’s nails last night and he’d done a much worse job, getting nail polish all over her skin and accidentally making it lumpy and full of bubbles. 

But on Steve’s hands, the polish was neat and smooth and elegant. Steve had never had his nails painted before, but it was pretty. He liked it. 

Maybe Steve shouldn’t have painted Robin’s nails. He’d been under the impression that Robin hated the process of painting her nails – always complaining about having to sit still while they dried. But if she liked it enough to do it in Steve’s body, maybe he should have let her paint her own. 

Steve grabbed his work vest and a granola bar and drove to Robin’s house. She came out the door in a hurry, jacket half-on, shouting something back at her parents. But she was quiet as she got in the car. She barely said hello before busying herself looking through Steve’s tapes. 

Steve frowned. “Robin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know?”

Steve had gone to bed early last night, which meant Robin’s body shouldn’t be tired. He didn’t say that. 

“How did the date go?”

Robin froze, only for a second, but it was noticeable given how she was always in motion. “It was okay. She said you should call her.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Steve said tentatively. 

“Yeah,” Robin said. She put in a tape and turned the volume up. 

Dread started to grow in Steve’s stomach. He waited until he’d pulled into Dustin’s driveway and honked to turn down the music. Dustin always took a minute to come out. 

“Did I overstep?” Steve asked quietly. 

“What do you mean?” Robin asked. She was fiddling with her bracelets, and Steve suddenly realized she hadn’t even looked at him since getting in the car. 

“When I asked you to go on the date for me. Was that too much?”

Robin still didn’t look at him. “Steve-”

“Hey!” Dustin said loudly, climbing into the backseat. “You won’t believe what happened in our campaign last night. So we were in this forest, right, and then Eddie had this really suspicious looking dwarf show up-”

Dustin kept babbling about his campaign all the way to the school and Steve tried to react in the appropriate places. He had no idea what was happening in the story because Dustin used way too many words that Steve was pretty sure didn’t exist. But he’d already hurt Robin somehow; he didn’t want to hurt Dustin as well. 

Steve dropped them both at school — Robin leaving with a little “bye” and Dustin still rambling on his way out of the car — and went to work. He was the only one working until Robin got on in the afternoon, so it was pretty boring. A few housewives came in, but mostly Steve rewound and reshelved tapes. He contemplated actually cleaning, but decided he wasn’t bored enough to do that and ended up tapping his fingers idly on the counter as he half-paid attention to the children’s movie that was playing on the tv. 

Today, of all days, Steve didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. 

What had gone so wrong? He’d asked Robin if she was okay with going on the date and she had said yes. But she hadn’t called and she couldn’t even look at him this morning. That had never happened before. They had bickered back when they’d been getting to know each other at Scoops Ahoy, but they’d never had a real fight. 

All Steve could think of was Nancy. Nancy, pulling away because Steve couldn’t be what she needed. Nancy, who Steve had hurt without even realizing it. Nancy, who Steve had loved and who he had lost because he was bullshit. 

He couldn’t be bullshit with Robin. He’d thought he was safe from ruining this because they were friends and they’d felt mind-melded even before the body swapping had started. 

But Steve had clearly done something wrong. He had to figure out what it was and fix it before he lost Robin. 

A man came in, dressed in a suit, clearly on his lunch break. Steve tracked him as he wandered the shelves, but the man didn’t seem to need any help, quickly finding a movie and bringing it up to the counter. 

It was [romance movie]. 

“It’s for my wife,” the man said, as if he thought Steve was judging him. 

“That’s romantic,” Steve said. “Can I get your name?” 

“Johnny Richards,” the man said. “My wife’s upset I had to work late the past month. It’s not my fault! I work for the mayor’s office and we’re still dealing with the fallout of that fucking mall fire.”

Steve’s customer service smile turned even more frozen. He mechanically pulled up the man’s profile. Johnny Richards’ account had a few action movies, some chick flicks, and a lot of pornography. 

Steve tried to change the topic to Johnny’s wife again. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate a movie date night. This one’s a good choice.”

He flashed Johnny Richards another customer service smile as he scanned the movie, but Johnny wasn’t looking at his face. He was watching Steve’s hands. 

“That’ll be three dollars,” Steve said.

Johnny’s eyes flashed to his, lips curled back in a sneer. “You a queer?”

Steve blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You. A. Queer?” Johnny repeated. 

Steve’s muscles locked at the word and at the tone the man was using. He automatically looked for Robin, trying to make sure he was between her and the threat, before he remembered that she was at school. 

“No?” Steve said. He didn’t sound confident, which he knew was a mistake, but he was really confused.

“No?” The man mocked. “Then why are you painting your nails like one?”

Oh. Steve glanced down at his hands, at the red color on his nails. He’d kept it on when he’d left the house because he liked it and because Robin had been the one to paint them, but he’d been too preoccupied to think his decision through. 

He should have known better than to wear nail polish in Hawkins, Indiana. 

“I didn’t paint them,” Steve said. “My friend did. She, um, wanted to practice.”

Johnny gave Steve a disdainful look. “Acting like a pussy isn’t going to get you any girls. If she’s painting your nails, you’re stuck in the friend zone — you don’t have to give her your dignity as well. Have some self-respect and stop looking like a goddamn queer.”

“I’m not a queer,” Steve protested. 

“Just some friendly advice,” Johnny said. “Better you hear it from me, than someone who wouldn’t be so nice.”

It sounded so much like something Steve’s father would say that he gave an automatic, “Yes, sir.”

Johnny Richards nodded, like that was the reaction he’d been hoping for. He slapped three dollars on the counter, far from Steve’s hand as if he didn’t want to touch him, then grabbed the tape and walked out. 

Steve felt hot all over, shame and embarrassment and something else filling him. He felt dirty, like he shouldn’t have liked having his nails done. 

He was a boy. He wasn’t supposed to like girly things. Even if he was a girl half the time, when he was in Robin’s body and she was in his. 

He didn’t mind being in Robin’s body. He didn’t mind her longer hair, or her painted nails, or her makeup, even when it was on him. He liked wearing her clothes, even though most of it wasn’t his style and he wished he could get some nice blouses and skirts. 

But that was all when he was in Robin’s body. He was allowed to like those things when he was a girl. He had been stupid to think he could get away with painted nails as a boy. 

Steve was still shaking. He felt awful, like he’d been through something worse than a few mean comments from a stranger. The kind of comments he himself had made in the past. 

If this was how everyone he had bullied had felt, maybe he deserved to feel this way. 

Steve kept his fingers curled as he helped the next few customers, hiding his nails from sight. 

By the time Robin showed up for her afternoon shift, Steve was able to act sufficiently normal. Robin was still half-avoiding him, but it was Friday afternoon and they were ridiculously busy trying to rent out movies for the weekend. 

Steve waited until they were alone in the store, closing up, to say “Can you please come over? I want to talk.”

“Okay,” Robin said to the ground. But she got in the car with him and let him drive her to his house. 

They took their shoes off by the entryway and made their way to the kitchen, moving seamlessly to make dinner. They were both comfortable moving around Steve’s kitchen as if they lived there, because they both lived there. 

Steve almost added peas to his own plate before he remembered that he hated peas. They only tasted good when he was Robin. 

When they were both picking at their reheated lasagne, Steve said, “I’m sorry.”

Robin’s head jerked up, a bewildered look on her face. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t said those words much the first sixteen years of his life. But he’d say them a million times now if that’s what it took to get Robin to forgive him. 

“For what?” Robin asked. 

Was this a test? Steve’s mother did that sometimes, made him explain what he was apologizing for so she could scoff in his face and tell him that wasn’t why she was mad and to try again. 

“For asking you to go on that date for me?” Steve guessed. 

Robin didn’t look happy with that answer. 

“I don’t know,” Steve quickly admitted. Sometimes it was better to just get it over with. She could explain how he’d fucked up and then she could yell and then he could apologize and hopefully they would be okay. “I’m sorry for being so stupid that I don’t know what I did, I guess. But I didn’t mean you make you mad. Or sad? And I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Robin said, sounding angry. 

Steve hesitated. This felt like a bad idea, but “You seem mad.”

“I am, but not at you.”

“Then why haven’t you looked at me all day?”

Robin growled and got to her feet, starting to pace. “It’s complicated, okay? I’m mad at your stupid body, and you’re in it right now. And I’m mad at this whole situation. It fucking sucks, okay?”

Steve didn’t know how to fix the situation. They had hit a dead end with everything they had tried, and unless El got her powers back, their only possible next step was to trust the government scientists. Call Steve crazy, but even before the Russians he hadn’t trusted government scientists, especially ones who had experimented on a little girl for her powers. 

So he focused on the part he maybe could fix. “Why are you mad at my body?”

Robin spun on her heel, still pacing, arm flying as she tried to explain. “It just feels all… off. Wrong. Like, I’m a girl and I hate being trapped in a boy’s body. I hate being perceived as a man. Don’t you feel the same when you’re in my body? Like it’s wrong being a girl?”

No, Steve didn’t. But that probably wasn’t helpful to say right now. And it was weird. Shameful. 

If Robin didn’t like boy stuff when she was in Steve’s body, why did he like girl stuff when he was in hers?

“I guess I didn’t think about it so much,” Steve lied. 

“It’s just… ugh! It makes my skin crawl,” Robin said. “And I hate that we switch so much and we can’t control it. I feel like I’m missing my life. I missed my first day of senior year. I barely ever see my parents anymore, and I miss them. They’re threatening to kick me out of band because I’ve missed so many rehearsals, but you can’t play the trumpet so I don’t know what else we’re supposed to do. And I hate never being able to make plans with anyone but the kids because no one else knows about the body-swapping and I can’t ever guarantee I’m going to be in my own body.”

That was a lot. Steve had no idea how to fix any of that. He hadn’t really been bothered by the switching — his only friends all knew about the Upside Down, so if he showed up in Robin’s body to plans he’d made as Steve, no one batted an eye. 

But Robin was different. Robin had a life outside of him and the kids. She had friends and school and band and parents who loved her. 

Of course she would feel like she was missing out on her life. 

“And!” Robin continued, still pacing. “I fucking hated that date. I didn’t know how to drive and I didn’t know what to say. She kept expecting me to be you, and she kept looking all awkward and put-off whenever I answered something like me. And I don’t know a thing about basketball and I hate Grease!”

“Why would you hate-”

“And she kissed me,” Robin said. 

Steve went quiet. 

There were tears in Robin’s eyes. 

“It was the end of the date and she just kissed me, even though the date sucked. Even though she hated every part of me that was actually me. And I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was my first kiss, and it was with a girl, but I was a boy and I was you and she didn’t even like me.”

Robin started crying. 

Steve didn’t know what else to do, so he pulled her into a hug and let her sob into his shoulder. 

“I never thought I’d get to kiss a girl,” Robin said hoarsely. “Or at least not while I was in Hawkins. And then I did and it was all wrong.”

There was so much pain in her voice and it was all Steve’s fault. He never should have asked her to go on that stupid date. He could have just rescheduled instead of putting her in that position. 

She’d said she wasn’t mad at him, but maybe she had just been lying to spare Steve’s feelings. This was all his fault. 

He would have to find a way to fix it. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he would do it. 

Eventually, Robin stopped crying. She pulled out of Steve’s hug, grabbing his hands instead and swinging them between them, looking down so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. 

Then she froze, lifting Steve’s hands to her face. Steve tensed for a moment, thinking of the man from Family Video, before he remembered that this was Robin. She wasn’t going to judge him. She was the one who’d painted his nails in the first place. 

“You kept it on,” Robin said. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. 

“You didn’t have to,” Robin said. “Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugged. 

“You can take it off, if you want,” Robin said. “I didn’t mean to stick you with it after we switched back. I just needed to do something to make your body feel more like me.”

Because Robin hated being in Steve’s body. He understood that much, at least. His body came with headaches and a deaf ear and blurry eyesight and dyslexia. And maleness, which Steve hadn’t realized would be strange for Robin.

“I can keep it on,” Steve said. “If it makes you more comfortable when we switch.”

Robin bit her lip, looking hesitant. “It’s still your body, Steve. I don’t want to make it comfortable for me by making it uncomfortable for you.”

Steve was all twisted up inside. He didn’t know how he felt about the nail polish. “I don’t mind it. I can keep it on.”

Robin still hesitated. “People might be… mean. If you keep it on.”

Steve felt hot all over again. Off-balance. 

But what could he say? He couldn’t complain to Robin of all people that he’d gotten called a queer today at work. He would sound like a whiny, self-centered dick. He knew Robin had gotten called slurs before. And it was worse, because for her they were actually true. 

He was just being a baby about this. He had to toughen up and get over it. 

“Please,” he said forcing a smile. “Nobody’s going to say anything to Steve Harrington.”

Robin scanned his face, like she was checking if he was sure, and he gave her his best over-confident smirk, a look he hadn’t really pulled out since the King Steve days. 

Maybe it was because he’d never used this expression on Robin before, but she seemed to believe it. She smiled back at him and he could see that it was real. 

“Thanks, Steve,” she said. “We should get more bottles though. I’m not sure maroon is really your color.”

Steve pretended to be offended. “But I want to match my baby.”

“Your baby?” Robin asked, eyebrows up. 

“My car,” Steve said. 

Robin moaned. “Ugh. It’s bad enough you have a picture of a car hanging in your room. You are not allowed to start calling your car your baby, Steve. I will disown you.”

“You can’t disown me! You literally are me half the time.”

“I can and will disown you,” Robin countered. “I’ll be disowning you as a person, not your body, so I’ll just ignore you. Unless you act normal about cars. No calling them baby, or calling yourself their daddy. That might have been the most traumatizing part of Starcourt, really.”

“That was the most traumatizing part of Starcourt,” Steve repeated incredulously, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Yep,” Robin said, nodding firmly. “That was the most traumatizing part.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about acting normal. You staying over?”

“I guess I should, at this point,” Robin said. “Let me just call my parents.”

Steve caught Robin’s arm as she moved to the phone. “You don’t have to stay. If you miss your parents and you want to see them, you should go home.”

It hurt to say. Steve didn’t want Robin to go. He didn’t want to be alone in his house after being alone at the store all day. 

Maybe Robin could see that, because her expression softened. “No,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

They fell asleep together, Steve finding it much easier to keep the nightmares at bay when he knew Robin was by his side, safe from Russians and monsters. 

He woke up in Robin’s body, wrapped in his own arms. 

***

Steve and Robin spent the weekend together. 

Robin felt terrible about making Steve feel bad. She hadn’t meant to take her anger out on him — she was mad at him, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. He never would have pushed her to go on the stupid date if she’d said no and it wasn’t his fault they were swapping bodies. 

But it was Robin’s fault that Steve had had that look on his face — fearful and desperate and apologetic, like he was afraid that he had irreparably damaged their friendship. 

Sometimes Robin forgot that Steve was as desperate to keep her as she was to keep him. Sometimes a mean little voice in her brain whispered that he was Steve Harrington, that he’d been cool and popular and he had known how to get people to like him. That even now, he was worshipped by a pack of feral children and he was generous and selfless and funny and interesting and that anyone would be lucky to be his friend. He didn’t have to settle for Robin, who couldn’t read social cues and rambled way too much and had never had a real friend before Steve. 

She hated that voice in her head. It was a liar and it was mean to both him and her. Steve might have been popular, but he had never had a close friend before Robin (or maybe Dustin) either. He might be adored by his kids, but he had no friends his own age. And he was incredible in a million ways, but he also thought Robin was incredible and he told her all the time, calling her funny and brave and smart like he didn’t care that she was a socially inept nerd.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t realized that quietly seething — at him, a little, but also at the injustice of this whole situation — would hurt him more than outright telling him she was upset. 

She should have known better. She knew what had happened in his relationship with Nancy, and while she was nothing like Nancy Wheeler and she definitely wasn’t dating Steve, she knew Steve had a fear of being unintentionally terrible to the people he loved.

He had never been terrible to her, not even once, not even when she’d rejected him or come out to him or made him suffer through period cramps in her body. 

But Robin had been terrible to Steve, on purpose at first when she’d been forced to work with King Steve at Scoops Ahoy and then unintentionally a few times, like yesterday, when she hadn’t taken enough care with Steve’s emotions.

Robin decided to make it up to him. On Saturday morning they cooked breakfast together, making blueberry pancakes and coffee. Then Robin helped Steve re-do the nails he’d painted on her body, showing him how to get the air bubbles out and how to paint it in coats so it could dry in between. Steve watched attentively and held Robin’s hands up proudly when he was done. 

They hung out with the gremlins Saturday afternoon. Back in their own bodies, Steve taught Lucas how to shoot hoops while Robin played a vicious game of Monopoly against Dustin and Mike. 

“How come your nails are red?” Dustin asked Steve when Steve and Lucas came in from the driveway, sweaty and panting. 

“I painted them,” Robin said. Mike landed on Park Place and Robin grinned as she charged him an exorbitant amount of money. Capitalism was so fun when it was fictional and she was winning.

“Isn’t that weird though?” Mike asked. “Having your nails painted?”

Steve tensed. Robin had been waiting for the moment he gave up on the painted nails as too feminine or too gay, and apparently Mike’s question was that moment. Robin had honestly thought he would last until at least Monday. 

“Munson has his nails painted,” Steve said cattily, which wasn’t what Robin had expected at all.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause it’s metal. You’re too preppy to pull off painted nails.”

Steve looked a little dumbfounded and Robin hid a grin. Apparently the kids’ problem wasn’t with a man having his nails painted, it was with Steve doing it. 

“Steve’s metal,” Lucas said. 

Mike scoffed. “How?”

“He has a bat full of nails,” Lucas said reasonably. “That’s pretty metal.”

“See, Wheeler?” Steve boasted. “I’m metal enough to paint my nails.”

Mike scowled. “I’m more metal than you are.”

They all looked at Mike, scrawny as a beanpole and dressed in horrifically mismatched clothing. Robin felt a bit blinded by the bright colors he was wearing. 

Dustin was the first one to start laughing, but they all eventually joined in. 

Mike grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Will would’ve agreed with me.”

“You mean he would have lied to spare your feelings,” Dustin teased. 

Mike yelped and launched a pillow at Dustin, who threw one back, and then they were all engaged in a pillow fight with Steve’s mom’s fancy throw pillows. Robin used to opportunity to whack at Mike and Dustin, who were objectively the most annoying of the children. She was about to get Dustin from behind when all of a sudden she was looming over Lucas, all the way across the room. 

Robin lost her balance and fell, straight onto Lucas, who let out a high-pitched yelp as her elbows and knees hit him. 

“Sorry,” Robin gasped, rolling off him. “I didn’t know Steve was doing fucking acrobatics during a pillow fight.”

Lucas’s head jerked sharply. “Woah. Robin?”

Robin nodded. 

Lucas smiled and lifted a pillow, smacking it across Robin’s face. As Robin sputtered, he said “that’s for using illegal weapons in a pillow fight. No elbows!”

“Oh, you’re on, Sinclair.”

As Robin tried to murder Lucas with a pillow, she thought that this was what she was missing in the rest of her life; people who watched her switch bodies with Steve and then just kept going like it was normal. She hated dropping into her body in the middle of a customer interaction at Family Video, when the customer would get mad at having to repeat the name of the movie they were looking for. She hated dropping into her body mid-conversation with Kate, unsure what the hell they were talking about and getting weird looks for babbling more off-topic than usual. She hated her inability to know where she was going to be at any given minute, or who she was going to be. 

But with Steve’s kids, who’d been to hell and back and didn’t think a bit of body-swapping was the weirdest thing they’d ever seen, she almost felt normal. 

“Let’s get Steve,” Robin whispered to Lucas. They crept up behind Steve — which was so weird, watching the back of her own head as Steve used her body to fight off Dustin and Mike — and jumped at him, whacking him with pillows. 

Steve shrieked — high-pitched with Robin’s vocal cords — and spun, narrowing his eyes at Robin in his body. 

“Oh, it’s on, Buckley.”

[cannibalisticapple]

So been a long time since I posted on Tumblr. I drew a thing! I've fallen into the Hazbin Hotel hell hole and started writing a fan fic called Foundling.

It's about Alastor finding a child in Hell and deciding , while in denial about the fact he's starting to care.

And if you know me, I have a thing for children who are just not normal and WAY too comfortable with murder and violence.

So meet Nixx! She's young (no one wants to ask her age), adorable, and has already killed like 10 people in this fic. Also she had no idea what a name is, among other very basic things.

I swore I'd draw her for Chapter 10 and I did! I'm mostly happy with the drawing. Her tail should be a lot longer and maybe a bit more slender, but for some reason I can just never feel satisfied with drawing curves on my tablet. I had to stop and move on, or I never would. This drawing took like 5 hours and WAY too many layers (seriously there were like 5 sketch layers and then 3 layers for the final outlines), so yeah, had to stop. I need to work on using less layers... ^^;

Big shout-out to @snowyh2o for rambling with me about Nixx, Foundling and Hazbin in general, and for also drawing Nixx too!! Those chats gave me a big push to finally turn on my tablet and DRAW. Please check out Snowy's blog and artwork, it is totally amazing and wonderful <3

[w3ndytheraccoon]

If I see one more post about why C!Dream is not a villain, I will rage-

C!Dream is a complex character with an understandable motive, and his spiralings was very realistic and I can one hundred percent see why. He is a very morally gray, albeit leaning more toward black than white, character. It wouldn’t be fair if I just label him as THE villain, because perspectives exist, and in some member’s perspective, like Purpled for example, he’s definitely not as evil as he is in, say, Tubbo’s perspective.

But that doesn’t change the fact Dream was a horrible person.

Just because he had a understandable motive, that doesn’t mean the shit that happened in Exile is justified. That doesn’t mean Doomsday is justified. That doesn’t mean all the manipulation and all the lying are justified. That doesn’t mean what he and Punz did to Vikkstar and Lazarbeam is justified. That doesn’t mean what happened in prison was justified.

Especially Exile and Vikkstar & Lazarbeam ! Exile is for isolating Tommy so he can’t cause trouble, not for abusing and gaslighting him to near the point of fucking suicide ! And what happened to Vikkstar & Lazarbeam was completely unnecessary ! Dream and Punz did NOT need to kill them over and over and over just to test the Revival Book, that is cruel and several violations of human’s rights.

Conclusion : C!Dream fucking sucks and I wish Punz didn’t brought him back. I’m an enthusiast, not apologist. His motive makes him explainable, not justifiable or excusable, and if I ever somehow manage to rip the fabric of reality and teleport to the DSMP universe, the first thing I will do is find Dream to deck him.

… But he’s still a complex character and one of my favourites.

Anyway, if I miss a point or something, do remind me. I’ll probably edit this and add more character analysis in the morning, when my thoughts are actually coherent and I’m not writing something from pure spite and anger.

Morning edit :

He also hurt Geogre and Sapnap. Sure, he never physically hurt them as far as we’re aware, but do you know how painful it is to watch your friend spirals and became the total opposite of how they were ? How helpless it feels when you realised your friend is too far gone and you can’t help them ? How guilty it is when you think of all the times you could reach out and stop them from turning out like this but you didn’t ? How badly that would take a toll on your mental health ?

But anyway, just because C!Dream is a horrible person, that doesn’t mean what happened in prison is okay. The whole obsidian cell with lava door and raw potato ? Yeah, that’s fine, I can get behind that, since it was his idea for prison to be like that. It’s just karma. What I meant is the torture part. Does he deserve it ? Depends who you ask. I personally think it was justified and deserved, but that still doesn’t make it okay.

EDIT: My opinion about c!Dream had changed and while some things are still the same, this post no longer mean anything besides frustrated 3 am rambles

[ikissjesse]

could you do some aaron t/aaron z headcanons pls!

omg yes ofc !! ty for the request <333 since 3 ppl requested aaron² hc's (nothing specific) im gonna put all ur requests into this once post !!

tags: @i-need-a-slurpee @hrts4ariana ( note as of writing: this was a draft from 1719817282 years ago so if u forgot abt this n no longer wanted to be tagged im sorry🥲 )

as i mentioned in this post, they both adore musicals, especially hamilton

aaron² hc's !!

reblogs appreciated + reqs open <3

they like listening to the soundtracks together when they hangout

sometimes when there's a musical near where they are on tour they go together in their free time

u didn't hear it from me but they held hands during one of these musicals bc the room was dark n they thought noone would notice

as bros, ofc.. homies hold hands during musicals !!

they totally sing non-stop from hamilton together its cannon bc i say so

anyway enough abt hamilton for now

there was def mutual pining

they were both like "fuckidishcoaoxjaoa he just thinks of me as a friend"

"friend" NO HE WANTS U SO BAD -God probably idk

the way they attempted to "drop hints":

t tried to make z laugh a lot, even more than he usually did

pranks became less extreme than they normally were, he wanted to surprise him, not scare him to death like he used to

z would, although he denies this, try to do basketball tricks to impress t whenever he is at the basketball court w him

both of them went to jesse for advice, not knowing the other was doing the same

"hey jesse uhm- what should i do if, theoretically, ihavearlybigcrushonsomeonewhoiveknownforawhilebutithinktheyseemeasafriendandireallyreallyREALLYwannabemorebutidontwannaruinourfriendship????" -t

"...what?" -jesse

needless to say jesse was confused as hell

he sent him off w some advice after t slowed down enough for him to understand, then about 15 minutes later z came rambling about the same thing

"JESSE YOU'RE A HIT WITH THE LADIES, AND THE GAYS, AND..BASICALLY ANYONE. HOW DO I FLIRT WITH SOMEONE IVE KNOWN FOR AGES WHO IM PRETTY SURE SEES ME AS JUST A FRIEND?????" -z

thats what made it click for jesse, n he just laughed at the realization

giving him the same advice he gave t, he snickered at the idea of the aarons having a crush on eachother but being too stupid blind to see the feelings were mutual

"thanks jess!!" -z to jesse, running off

"yeah no problem man hehehshshehsh goodluck! HEHEHHEHE"

building up as much courage as he could, z eventually made the first move a few days later

he asked t if he'd like to join him for a musical that would take place at a nearby theater, n he gladly accepted

little did t know where this would lead <33 achoo anyways

as the lights dimmed during a 'romantic' scene, aaron z took t's hand in his own n (quietly) confessed his feelings towards his long-time bestfriend

saying t was happy would be an understatement

the energetic boy yanked him into a hug, leaving his stoic counterpart(ner) highly confused and extremely flustered

choking from t's tight embrace, his face became beet red

"Im, uhm- assuming you feel the same?"

well NO FUCKIN WAY SHERLOCK WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT -God again probably

"yeah dumbass, ofcourse i do!" t whisper-yelled, trying to keep his excitement down as they were still in a theater after all !!!

after that, z just smiled n wrapped his arms around t's waist, returning the hug

but wait !! theres more !!

what kind of ikissjesse ship post would this be without cute couple hc's ???

the quiet stoic boy x loud energetic boy dynamic UUGF MY HEART I THINK IM DYIBG from how much i love this duo😔😔

z buys t a baseball cap in EVERY city/country they go to. every fucking one

even if its not a band tour, if z is out somewhere n sees a cool cap he thinks t would like, yall better believe this boy would cut off an arm n sell a kidney just for t to get that hat

t has a whole side in his closet dedicated to these hats z buys him, he finds it absolutely adorable

z actually thinks he isnt good at gift giving, so he was afraid t wouldnt like it at first, but t's reaction is enough conformation that he adores it

now what kinda aaron² hamilton lover truther would i be if i didnt mention the musical again 💪💪

they have FREQUENT hamilton marathons together, sometimes the other members of 4*town will join in too !!

they still sortve act like they did before, like friends n what not

however theyre also 300% more flirty

by that i mean T is 300% more flirty

z might be a LITTLE bit but def not as much as my boy aaron t (the r in aaron stands for rizzler -aaron t)

z isn't a big fan of PDA himself, however when t does little displays of affection when theyre in public he loves it ( he doesn't say it out loud bc he's shy but he does smile at t or to himself, holding t's hand or draping an arm over his shoulders )

when theyre in private z will hug t from behind, hold his waist, kiss his forehead, etc .... yk... bro stuff......

t surprises him by going BOO!!! and jumping up to put his arms around his shoulders from behind, which at first scared z shitless n earned t a lecture about why he shouldn't scare him like that bc z WILL swing but z is okay with it now n actually smiles ALBEIT A VERY SMALL SMILE when he does it

dates include but r not limited to playing basketball late at night together, movies, watching musicals, roadtrips to literally anywhere long or short they just wanna be in eachothers presence OUGHG I LOVE THEM

i forgot to mention !!! t is definitely the one who asked to be boyfriends, but z accidentally said "I love you" first

t was doing something dumb again, and z shook his head as he laughed, accidentally mumbling the words "I love you" out loud

t stopped dead in his tracks n snapped his head in z's direction, n yall this boy was STRESSED he did NOT mean to let the world know this information

z covered his face with his hands n his face was PINK pink bro but t just laughed n walked over to him, cupping his face in his hands and staring at him with a very VERY smug but genuine n happy grin

z scoffed, but soon glanced back at the other boy and smiled shyly

theyre so cute im throwing up in class

there's more but i think this is long enough for now, sorry for the wait pls snack on this while u wait for the rest of my jesro + aaron² content i have planned WINK WINK

thank u for reading <3

[aquaquadrant]

hey aqua, i'm here to ramble about your stupidly amazing au that's got me bouncing off the walls between chapters being posted

firstly, i put all the fics in a doc (because you know, I gotta keep track of what i've read and haven't read, and it's totally not because i want to save it forever and pass it on to my grandchildren)

the doc contains the warnings, summaries, a/n's and everything in between but i wouldn't think it would make a huge difference to the 100K WORDCOUNT

so here is is, the horrifying word count that is honestly longer than most actual published novels and the amount of pages, which to be honest, would be larger if this was actually printed in book size (font size proportionately to the page size), to which the page number would be.... too much, honestly. even I don't want to calculate that and i'm insane

now i assume you knew all this already, since you probably have also been writing this in a google doc to keep track of it, but then again docs slows down dramatically under 397 pages of brainrot-inducing writing so i dont expect you to be using it too often. if you are, congratulations and have a gold star

it's more of i'm collecting useless bits of information like this to show to whoever has read the series, because it's so good, it's so ridiculously amazing, and it so could be turned into a book if someone tried hard enough and i need people to back me up

heck, it's written so much better compared to most novels, it's just that good. i even turn to it when i don't feel like writing. i read it, and then through some miracle, i have all the writing talent and motivation in the world, seemingly having absorbed it from your work.

tldr: htpau is amazing. if you haven't read it you should read it. and it's that good that it literally could be a book. zero exaggeration. (can you tell that this thought has kept me awake many nights)

now hopefully you weren't too baffled to see such a long ask in your inbox, and hopefully you don't question me, as someone who hasn't read a proper novel in years, who has basically reread every chapter once or twice basically as soon as it comes out

i don't need therapy, i need more of your writing. (because hels no does chapter nine end like this) ba dum tss

and then, i leave you, with a gold star and many thanks ⭐

HAGAJDHJA HOLY SHIT

i do use google docs but i make a new one for every chapter for the reason u mentioned, once they’re past a certain page count it gets real slow and i don’t have the patience for that. so uh yeah, i don’t think i ever bothered to calculate the total running word count. it’s not the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i don’t think it will be by the time i finish it, but that’s definitely a NOT INSIGNIFICANT number of words, goddamn.

someone did bind one of my fics into an actual hard cover book once, just for their own personal use. man, that was sick. now i don’t think i’d ever try to alter a fic of mine to actually publish it, cuz so much of what i write hinges too much on the original content, but fan-bindings are A-OKAY so long as i get to see pics :3

anyway, no worries about the long ask, i love hearing from u guys. i’m flattered u went thru the trouble of consolidating it and i’m glad ur enjoying the au!

[quibble-auk]

You have no idea how happy it makes me that you enjoyed what I wrote! I will never mind any sort of feedback, especially if its about your character and how I portrayed them. The longer it is the happier I get. Which speaking of, I'm so relieved I got her right!! Sunrazor is a fun balancing act of different facets, and since you mentioned her being a psychopath I totally might have looked up the traits associated with the condition and laid it against what you already sorta gave bits and pieces about.

Her being gentle and almost playful with Comet felt right due to a piece you had posted a while ago? With the bot getting caught trying to visit his lover who happened to be under Sun's command. Her holding his face inspired the whole scene, and I thought it would add another layer of her own insanity and discomfort. When someone holds your face or your chin its quite close to intimate, but mix that with Comet being blown to pieces, her being huge and terrifying and totally able to crush him. He is completely at her mercy, and she knows it. She's doing that gentle action and feeling none of the associated emotions connected to it. But, on the flip side. She uses this as sort of a bridge for manipulation. See? I can help you, they obviously don't seem to care enough to save you. Your in this vulnerable position because they sent you here "Named me to put you down". I wanted a good opening for her manipulation to join because she doesn't seem the type to just hold out her hand and be like "Hey I think we'd make a great team :D"

Her twisting the situation to hurt his concepts of the autobots and doubt himself was also inspired by a post you did, it might have been her introduction. Showing she twists the obsession another mech has for her into a choke collar. She, in my mind, was slipping that pronged collar over Comet's head with every sliver of doubt.

To share a secret, if Comet didn't have the twins waiting for him, he might have been more than a little tempted. The autobots don't care about him, so he thinks. He doesn't enjoy Optimus and his righteous morals, Prowl sees him as a threat to the whole war. Jazz, well jazz just scares him. If the majority of the army knew what he was, he'd be torn to bits. So that little, they sent you out to die, sparked all his inner turmoil. Prowl was smart. He would do that, what if Jazz was in on it and sent him to make a distraction knowing Sunrazor wanted a piece of him.

If you can’t tell that was my favorite part of the whole thing. Hope you dont mind me yapping about my thought process, maybe its interesting.

I hope you know I will never mind a ramble, ever. Im honored it invoked so many thoughts. I enjoyed reading it. :D

The fact that you actually looked back at some of the other stuff on here is wild to me. Which is funny cause I’ll do it with your stuff lol. It’s the dedication that gets me.

The amount of thought and care you put into this scene is wild. I might play around a bit with trying to write my own thing with the two of them :)

She is very very manipulative, you got that on point. It was fun to see that side of her vs my… I honestly have no idea what she’s dealing with in what I write other than she is spiraling. But yeah, she’s not one to openly admit she wants someone to join her.

Just a bit too much like asking for help.

It’s very subtle in the thing I wrote. But she most definitely has a thing with being in control. Any chance she can get to control others she’ll take. Mainly because half the time she has no control of herself. Cycle of abuse if you will.

The idea that the twins are the only thing keeping Comet tied to the Autobots is the cutest (maybe a little sad) things ever. He cares about them so much he’ll stick around even if he’s hating every second of it.

I loved the part where she offers him the deal. Once again your paralleling plot and backstory for herself. And having him consider it, even if it’s just for a moment, totally fuels her to push even further.

[I am still wondering if you are in my walls]

[gingerjolover]

hi ging i know this is totally not the place for unsolicited asking for advice so totally ignore this ask if it’s the wrong place to be doing this BUT in short i’m having an identity crisis yay!!! up until very recently i though i was just a very very supportive ally, eg when homophobic things were said around me i was personally offended but was just like noooo i’m just a huge ally i’m not gay!! i love love munagenius, and not just in a “i wanna be friends with all of them!” way, i’ve had crushes on girls irl, but have just pushed them deep deep down and i’m attracted to them and i would date a girl and AND I KNOW THAT SOUNDS SO GAY LIKE I SHOULDNT EVEN BEEN QUESTIONING BUT FOR SOME REASON IM IN DENIAL. it’s like i almost don’t feel gay enough? literally nobody knows because i like men (unfortunate i know) and have been in “straight” relationships all my life. i know nobody but me can tell me if i’m queer or not like this is my shit to deal with but maybe i just needed somewhere to dump my feelings anonymously :p

hi baby!

this is a safe space, you’re always allowed to ramble in my inbox (that goes for all of you!)

i can’t, in earnest, sit here and write, “well if you like girls and you would date a girl, you’re queer,” because i know first hand that it’s not that easy

i was right where you are not that long ago, and i hope i can use my experiences to give you some guidance?? without making it sound like it’s all about me??

we had very similar experiences, i’ve ALWAYS had crushes on women but never realized they were crushes, i was like “no i just want to be their best friend” or “i admire them soooo much,” or “i wish i looked like them” — and while those are totally normal thoughts to have, i also actively was pushing down the idea that i, as in me ginger, could be queer, i didn’t know what queer meant and i didn’t even know that bisexuality was a thing when i was young

i had a MAJOR identity crisis actually like right before i started posting on here consistently, if you look at my tumblr in the very beginning it was literally all “insert male celebrity x reader” because i did not allow myself to look at content that i was not “queer enough” for

denial is something i ALSO went through, i can’t tell you how many times my best friends (both queer) had to talk me down about WHY i was getting so worked about about labeling myself or feeling confused about liking girls, trying to find the root of why i wouldn’t allow myself to say i was queer or even curious about my sexuality

obviously accepting yourself is hard, right? it’s challenging an idea about yourself that is different from what you’ve always known yourself. i struggled so much with this because, like you sweet anon, i was always straight and nobody knew otherwise

self acceptance/no longer being in denial is also hard because there’s so many factors. one of the biggest factors for me was i was living in an environment at the time where queerness was NOT fully accepted, i know that i was going to be unsafe (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) if i had come out. (i eventually did to one of my family members and it worked out but most of them still don’t know)

one of my other things when not feeling queer enough was like “well i haven’t had a lot experiences with women so i can’t really be queer,” and my best friend literally was like “do you tell children who identify as queer that they aren’t because they haven’t kissed anyone?” and i said “of course not!” and he sat there and let me think about it… and then was like “well yeah, see how stupid that sounds? you’re not LESS queer because you don’t have experience, like maybe it’s more intimidating for you, but it doesn’t make you less”… and it’s something i still think about all the time

i know i’m rambling and i’m kinda jumping around but something you need understand and sit with is you don’t HAVE to label yourself! the biggest reason i hadn’t come out (combined with above) is because i couldn’t label myself, i didn’t feel queer enough for any label.

i ended up (after truly months) coming out as bi (not even officially, i just started referring to myself as bisexual and posting stuff on instagram and creating my own lil community) because like you anon, i unfortunately like men😪 (even though i am actively only dating women/nb at the moment, don’t dissect this too much i am still in my identity crisis)

i guess what i am trying to saaaaay is be patient with yourself, you are queer enough, even if you’re just questioning (although it sounds like you were where i was and you’re def not but i can’t tell you that). as long as you are entering this space respectfully and your intentions are pure, you have nothing to worry about sweet anon.

working to get over the “my whole life is going to change” and turning it into “my whole life is going to change!!!” is a way to help with this identity crisis. any change is hard, change is super scary, but as long as you’re in a place where you are safe and healthy, living authentically, even if confused, is so much better than feeling trapped and trying to work through it alone.

i hope this makes sense, i am obviously oversimplifying a lot of the issues of coming out or identifying yourself, i am very privileged that most of my life hasn’t changed since i have come out, and i know it’s not always the easiest/safest for people

i love you sweet anon! my inbox is always open - so are my messages :)

[henke-penke]

Me: Damn this project is taking much longer than I thought it was. Taking a detour to play epic mickey didn't help. At least, I'll have some time after my fall exams.

Life: (breaks my fence)

Me: Goddammit fucking damn it

Sigh... Unfortunately, I keep getting sent curve balls my way, but I promise you I will finish this, it just might take a little while.

In other news: HOLY SHIT! Chappy 15! Gotta say, I thought we'd see Noah poverty, but the fact we don't makes it's SO interesting! Like damn someone, please go make sure he's still alive. After reading this chappy and relisting to Achilles Come Down, I can so totally see what you were talking about with Owen and Eva (if I had to say specifics, maybe verse 2, the pre-chorus, and the bridge, though I'd love to hear your thoughts). Like how did I miss that? Now prepare for some rambling.

Speaking of the bridge, I'd like to raise a thought I had about it: So in the bridge, it's presented as two contrasting voices talking to Achilles while he's on the roof, each either encouraging or discouraging him to jump. With the fic in mind, I can see Owen as the positive voice trying to tell Noah to get off the (metaphorical) roof. While at first, the straightforward thought would be for Eva as the negative voice, that didn't feel right since Eva, while justified in her reaction with the knowledge she knows, does feel bad about actually physically hurting Noah. Then, I had a different idea: the negative voice could be seen as the rest of the cast in how they feel about Noah (again metaphorically since I'd imagine they would actually want him dead. I think)

Anyways, as you can tell, I really like this fic, and I can't wait to finally post my project on here(if ya really wanna know, it's an animatic ;] ). I do have a Tumblr, I'm just a little nervous to send asks outside of anonymous (thanks a lot anxiety).

Until then!

-✒️🌙

That's alright ! Art takes time and honestly, just knowing that you're making an animatic for my fic (holy shit) is making me really fucking happy. However long it takes doesn't matter, I know it's going to be awesome !

Some day I'm not going to become so ridiculously and childishly giddy whenever someone says they like my fics, but that day is not today AAAAAA <3<3<3

I was really tempted to add a quick Noah pov, but the chapter ultimately works better if he remains unseen. Something to be kept in the back of the reader's mind and which subtly changes how the unfolding story is perceived.

Those are EXACTLY the parts I was thinking of !!

oooooo I love that ! Especially since Owen was actively trying to reach out to Noah. And yeah, it's easy to say Eva is the negative voice, but it makes more sense for it to be the rest of the cast while Eva remains a silent observer. Angry at Noah but not really siding with the people who are against him, instead going to Owen to be there for him and to hopefully make sense of her own thoughts.

[zeawesomebirdie]

hi !!!! did NOT consider you might like to have the ask again to answer it. if you do:

seeing you post about your old west au is motivating me to at least draft my stuff out for my fic, too!!! so, firstly: good god thank you. secondly, what kind of drafting process do you normally go through? you don't have to answer this but everyone i know is pretty particular about how they write so i'm always curious!!!

Gosh okay I'm still so embarrassed about accidentally posting this before it was ready!! Lesson learned: only work on long posts on desktop (very affectionate). I'm going to copy paste what I had originally said, but there will be added stuff because it wasn't anywhere near ready to go (if you thought it was long before, honey you ain't seen nothing yet!)

Also I still am so proud of you for working on your fic, we are writing buddies now hand in lovable hand I love you thank you for enabling my rambling <33

Buckle in, here we go!

SO! My drafting process is always a moving target. I do what works best for the work in question, and things change depending on my energy and fatigue levels plus my motivation and interest levels

So that said, right now my process usually looks like:

ramble at someone in DMs, copy and paste rambles into a google doc for safekeeping and marinating

zero draft, aka word vomit until a plot forms, block out actions and the occasional dialog, determine chapter and story arcs

first draft, aka Where The Real Writing Happens

optional second draft, but only if the fic is under 10k

line edits

post :)

find a bunch of typos that I somehow missed during line editing, fix those before anyone notices

I will be showing examples because this is a bit hard to explain and Extremely Intense to a lot of people, and yeah that's because it is! I approach writing fanfic the same way I approach writing original fiction, and I find it works best for me as a plotter

If you are metaphorically inclined and familiar with oil painting: I write the way an oil painter paints. First I block in the big shapes, the gestures, and the colours. Then I come back in subsequent drafts and increase the detail until I'm done!

Further information and actual examples of my drafts will be below the cut, because this is gonna be super long and I love talking shop ^.^

And general content warning for non-graphic violence and graphic smut (and shitty early drafts); the examples are from Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson fics

So before we get into the zero draft, I want to point out two things: first, I do full rewrites. This is why writing takes me one million years. I retype each and every word in each and every draft. Second, I'm actually trying something new with the Old West!AU, for reasons I will explain in a moment!

I started doing full rewrites in 2019 after a college writing course, in which we read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott; she encourages the reader to embrace the shitty first draft. I ended up really benefiting from a zero draft too, something I first learned about in 2020 from someone on authortube who I no longer remember the name of. The zero draft is essentially a pre-draft, in which one gets the gist of the story out of their system before the prose clogs up the spigot

For me, zero drafts are something that need to be finished as fast as possible in order to get done at all, so due to the sheer length of the Old West!AU, I'm trying out writing little bullet points instead of my full zero drafting. Right now this fic is at 27 chapters, and this is part 1 of 3 total. I will be going back and filling in the actual blocking once I have all the scenes roughly accounted for

Context for the Old West!AU: Bruce is the Bat, a vigilante gunman who only kills when he needs to but still has the fastest draw on this side of the Mississippi. Now that he's taken care of the man who killed his parents, he's returned home to his Uncle Alfred and gone straight, meaning that he's hung up his guns and gone back to homesteading the family land. He adopts Dick and then a year later Jason as well, when small burglaries start happening in town, so he takes the Bat out of retirement and goes to investigate.

My bullet points started out like this:

Open on comparison between Bruce's first gun and the Bat's guns. Introduce Joe Chill, general drunkard. The Bat calls out Chill, shootout, Chill is killed. Chill drew first. Moment of reflection between Bruce's first gunfight at 15 to this one, at 21. Bruce goes home.

And that's the whole entire first chapter!

However, now they look more like:

The Sheriff runs up and shoots at him. The Bat has him disarmed with his own gun barrel to his throat in an instant. It doesn't take the Bat much time to get info out of him either. The burglar is only going after small change, not enough to be noticeable. That rules out the gambler, easily. The Sheriff can't do shit about it, because no one is willing to start an investigation for such small change. The Bat shoves the Sheriff to his knees and is gone before he notices. Alfred is waiting for him when he gets home, and asks. Bruce tries to deny it, but the clothes are in his hands and he can't. So he sighs and says he may have made a promise, but… there might be more to this than there seems, okay? He just… has a bad feeling about it. Alfred can't accept this, what about his sons? Bruce can't take this, and tells him he doesn't have to. Their yelling wakes up Dick and Jason, who stand in the doorway to their bedroom and look on with the door mostly closed.

Eventually both Alfred and Bruce yell each other out, and they sit down for coffee as dawn breaks. Bruce breaks the silence first, saying Alfred is right. Alfred tells him he understands. Bruce decides to let the Bat go for real now.

This is about half of the chapter, and closer to the blocking I normally do in zero drafts

So far this pre-zero draft seems to be working, given I've already finished part 1, but I also can't wait to come back and do the blocking in because that's when the fic really starts to take shape!

Usually though, I just start with a zero draft. I'm going to show you two different fics for the zero draft examples, because they were done differently, and like I said at the beginning, I try to adjust my process based on what is called for by what I'm writing

This first is from the fic I'm writing for @ful-crum. It's a 5+1, in which it is five times Dick fucks Bruce to distract him from discussing his emotions plus one time they actually discuss their emotions and then fuck about it.

Tim and Jason turn up an hour later, and they're incredibly concerned. Dick waves them off. Tim takes him at his word and heads to bed (he has a meeting with Wayne Tech at 8am tomorrow, ugh), but Jason sits down next to the bed and asks Dick what he thinks Bruce is going to say. Dick tells him he's not sure, I mean, it's B, y'know? Jason just nods, and they lapse into silence. Then Steph and Cass come in, and Bruce is most noticeably not present. Cass signs something about bed, and Steph tells Dick that she's worried about Bruce, to which Jason snorts and says they all are, but she insists that Dick talk to him. Dick doesn't even need to take more than a moment to decide that won't be happening. But Steph goes to bed, and it's nearly 04:00 when Jason heads up too, saying he'd love to help Dick lecture Bruce about staying out late but he's got stuff to do tomorrow. Dick asks if he wants to know what stuff, and Jason gives him a smirk and says ask him no questions and he'll tell him no lies. Dick can live with that.

As you can see, this is just general staging directions and vibes

This second example was supposed to be for BruDick Week 2024, but I accidentally got carried away and ended up deciding to write a longfic for it instead. The prompt was "brudick meet their AU!selves," so I did 66!brudick meets the Gotham Rogues Polycule, an AU in which Bruce, Dick, and Clark are in a very elaborate polycule with half of Gotham's villains.

Batman and Robin were on a normal mission in the middle of the day, on the trail of Catwoman, who's been stealing from the Gotham Museum of Art again. One moment they were walking into the museum, the next they were in a weird swirl of energy. Robin clings to Batman and asks what's going on, and Batman tells him steady Robin, we just have to stay calm and see what happens. The energy clears as someone calls out “incoming! Clear the floor!” and they find themselves in what is clearly the Cave, except it's even more high tech than anything they've ever seen. There's three people in suits like theirs standing in front of a massive screen, and Robin identifies the Riddler immediately, even if he doesn't recognise the other two. Before Batman can stop him, he charges the Riddler, who jumps behind the man in black and blue with a laugh. Batman does call out for him to stop, but he ignores him. The man in black and blue meets his every move, almost like he's fighting himself, and he calls out to the man in red and blue “a little help here, Supes?”

The biggest difference here is how drastically these fics changed from their zero draft to the first draft rendition, and that is entirely because of how fleshed out they ended up being (or not being, lol)

When I zero drafted the 5+1, it was with the intention of that specific part simply being a chapter, whereas my original zero draft of the 66! meeting the polycule! fic was actually intended to be a two shot at most. I unfortunately lost control of the plot during the first draft of that one, and it spiraled into a longfic, which will become more clear in a bit!

Basically though, the goal of the zero draft is to know who's where and why at all times! With longfics, there is often a restructuring that happens after the zero draft is written, where I move scenes and sometimes whole chapters to their best locations. This is where I make the most use out of a beta! Pacing is a big struggle for me and it is easier to fix at this stage, before I have all the prose and have become attached to what I've written

Next up is the first draft, and this is a whole new document. This is where I write The Actual Words. This is more or less the final version of the fic, for longfics, give or take a few paragraphs and a shit ton of line edits. Having said that though, I write in fits and bursts, because y'know disabled and stuff. So I write a paragraph or two at a time, and I am constantly adding and subtracting words and lines and sometimes whole paragraphs while I am actively working on a chapter

I'm going to show the first draft versions of both of the above fics, and due to the length these will be extremely excerpted but they should serve as examples regardless. Generally speaking, my zero drafts are about 1/3 of the length of my finished fics, however the 5+1 is currently proving to be an exception so that number may not be super accurate

First, the 5+1:

“You did take care of them, right?” Dick asked, groaning when Jason’s mouth thinned as he looked away. “Is Steph at least still with him?” “Last I heard, they were—” Jason started, cutting himself off when the Cave’s alarm signaled the arrival of newcomers. A moment later, two muddy bikes roared into the garage, leaving dark tracks behind them as they parked haphazardly together on the far side of the garage. With the return of Black Bat and Spoiler, the only empty place on the garage floor now belonged to Batman himself. Dick tried to catch Jason’s eyes as they waited in the med bay for Cass and Steph to strip off their suits and join them, but Jason turned away from him, though he didn’t rise from the bed. Something must have gone down after he’d fallen unconscious, Dick was sure of it. Why else would Bruce have sent everyone else home early on a patrol night? He could already see it in his mind’s eye, Batman doing God-knew-what out in Gotham alone, Bruce coming home with a busted lip that Dick would have to personally clean up before they went to bed, how that lip would scab over and feel under his tongue when he kissed Bruce the next morning after waking up in their bed—Bruce’s bed—on accident. How that scab would stretch when the ghost of a smile caught Bruce by surprise after one of Dick’s terrible puns. “You okay?” Steph called across the Cave as she and Cass walked toward the med bay. “Never been better,” Dick replied, trying not to be put out at Jason’s eye roll. He put up a hand for Cass to inspect when she came up to his bedside, and after she had nodded her satisfaction of his health he smiled. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

And the 66! meets polycule! fic:

“You!” Robin shouted, not waiting for Batman to back him up as he charged toward the Riddler. Riddler didn't move—in fact, none of the three moved—then Robin was on him, punching his face hard enough to hear a distinct crack. That startled all three into action, Riddler swearing up a storm before throwing himself behind the blue masked man, who blocked Robin's next hits without hesitation. “Robin!” Batman called from somewhere behind him, but Robin ignored him, focusing his energy on striking past the masked man's defenses to get at Riddler. “I know you're behind this, you– you scum!” Robin snarled in Riddler's direction, placing a perfectly timed jab toward the masked man's left cheek and then feinting to the right. But the man met him easily, as though they were merely sparring. “I'm not who you think I am!” Riddler exclaimed, his hands cupping his face but doing little to staunch the blood streaming from his nose. “Let's slow down for a minute, okay?” the masked man said, his voice maddeningly level as if Robin wasn't trying every trick he knew to get past him. “We can explain.” “Yeah kid, there's a good explanation here, we promise,” Riddler added. Robin growled and spun around the  masked man's reach only to find him once again directly blocking him from Riddler. How in the dickens did he know exactly where Robin was going to strike before Robin himself knew? And why on earth was he protecting the Riddler? “Supes, we could use a hand here,” the masked man said, still obnoxiously calm, once again blocking Robin's fist and this time circling his hand around Robin's wrist to twist his arm behind his back. In a blink, Robin was lifted into the air by his collar, the blue and red suited man holding him at arm's length. Robin continued to struggle for a moment, but finally Batman came into view, frowning up at him. Seeing Batman's disapproval took every bit of wind from Robin's sails, and he deflated instantly. If Batman didn't think he needed to fight, then he probably didn't need to.

So as you can see, I just kinda fill in the details with each draft!

Which is where we come to the optional second draft. I try, I really do try, to do a full second draft of everything I write. I always am glad to have done one, once it's done. The problem is, I really do have very limited energy, and anything longer than a chapter or two just doesn't get finished if I try to give it a full second draft. I've instead been doing really vigorous line edits, which I don't have an examples of because those are done in the same document as the first draft!

Now, you're probably wondering why on earth I gave a smut content warning at the beginning of this post. WELL.

I am calling myself out as a newbie when it comes to the art of smut writing. My 5+1 fic, the one where literally every single part has extremely explicit smut, has the following in the zero draft:

Yes, that is not one, not two, but three "cue smuts." Clearly I was new at this (affectionate)

Shout out to past!me for this in the last part though, because at least it actually has some semblance of blocking even if it is still extremely lacking:

The kissing escalates (as it often does) to smut over the desk (though Dick does try to move the documents out of the way, even if Bruce is growling at him to leave it alone; he doesn't want to be the reason Tim has another caffeine-induced breakdown).

I didn't figure this out until I was actually writing this fic, but it turns out I not only need to block in regular action scenes, I also need to block in the smut, because otherwise I will be sitting there having no fucking clue what to write (very affectionate)

So I now present what a zero draft of smut looks like! This is from a 5+1 in which there are five times Bruce and Dick fuck because of Poison Ivy's sex pollen and it "doesn't mean anything," plus one time they fuck because they actually want to:

Dick asks if they can take off their suits, it's too hot he's too hot, and Bruce says okay, that's a good idea, and internally he's panicking because oh no. Oh no. But the moment the words are out he sees the relief in Dick's face, and realises Dick needs to be told what to do right now, so he tells him clearly to strip, it'll help. Once Dick is fully naked in the other seat, he turns to Bruce and asks if he needs help with his armor. His hand is tentatively, almost shyly stroking his cock, and Bruce is really struggling to not watch. He tells him no, he doesn't, and takes off the chest plate and arm armor, but leaves what's left of his leg armor on. He decides he can safely put his hand under his boxers, but Dick makes a little noise, and when he looks over he can clearly see Dick watching him stroke himself. Oh fuck. He's cumming before he even realises it, his boxers getting wet and sticky and his cock still so maddeningly hard and he strokes himself through it, unable to stop himself from moaning even as he tries to keep himself in a clinical mindset. Dick asks to see him, and Bruce, despite knowing what a bad, horrible idea this is, pulls down his boxers to reveal his cock. Dick shifts his hand on his own cock to mimic what Bruce is doing, and Bruce has the horrible realisation that he doesn't even really know how to jerk himself off. Dear God, hopefully Alfred stays the fuck out of the Cave tonight.

So it's really just more of the same general blocking directions and vibes!

Another thing of note for zero drafts, I try to use as few words as possible to get what I need across. These are only ever intended to be seen by myself and a beta, assuming anyone else besides me even sees them at all, so I use slang and shorthand and leave notes for myself in the text itself

This can be a bit weird for when I show it to betas (or anyone else, for that matter!) because there are some fics where the tone or the vocabulary in the zero is incredibly modern despite the fic being in a historical or pre-modern setting!

And I have yet to actually write the first draft of that one, so I'm going to give you the first draft of the "Cue more smut (but this time against the batmobile 😌)" scene so that you can see the difference between the blocking and an Actual Scene:

Bruce had turned his back to him, bracing himself against the batmobile, and Dick took hold of Bruce's hip to hold him steady when he slid a finger into his hole. A soft moan was all he got in verbal response, but Bruce pushed against Dick's finger despite Dick's best efforts to do this slowly. Chuckling under his breath, Dick slid in a second finger, relishing in the clench of Bruce's muscle as he began working him open. “Easy, B,” he said softly, leaning over him enough to move his hand from Bruce's hip to his cock. Bruce growled and arched into his touch, taking in Dick's fingers completely. “Someone's in a rush tonight, huh?” He didn't get a verbal response, not that he ever did. Bruce rarely spoke while full, relying instead on nonverbal communication to indicate his needs. It hadn't taken long for Dick to become acquainted with his movements back when they started this; after all, fucking was no different from fighting, not for them, not when they had flown side by side across Gotham for more than half of Dick's life. And Dick knew Bruce would always try to get him to rush just a little, knew he'd give in like he always did, wanting to have his cock inside Bruce as soon as physically possible just as much as Bruce did. He wasted no more time, sliding his fingers out and releasing Bruce's cock just long enough to slick up his own. The small whine from Bruce at the loss of contact ought to be ignored, ought not be acknowledged, and Dick knew that, but he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss the small of Bruce's back. Bruce huffed at him, glaring over his shoulder. Dick met his eyes with a grin. Then Dick gripped Bruce's hip again, holding him steady while Bruce leaned back to meet him, and slipped into his tight heat. There was a soft moan from Bruce the moment he bottomed out; Dick leaned forward again to kiss up his spine, keeping his cock buried deep even while Bruce began to rock back into him.

I do think the fic for @ful-crum would be easier if I had proper blocking for the smut, but also I do love a good challenge and you live and you learn, so I'm not super invested in going back and blocking in the smut at this point in time!

And honestly, once the line edits are done that's pretty much it!

I keep a little "posting info" doc for each and every fic I write, to which I add tags as I come to them in writing, so that I don't have to think about what needs to be tagged at the end after I've already forgotten what I've written. That has saved my butt so many times ngl, especially for longfics!

But really what keeps me from posting more often, despite how much I write, is that I fully finish fics before I post them, even if I'm posting them on a weekly or whatever basis. This is mostly because I can't guarantee when I'll need to randomly take several months off of writing, and I don't want to leave anything unfinished, but also because I don't want to actually end up leaving something unfinished for a few years until I cycle back into the fandom

And that's it!! Thanks for tuning in to this little master class :) If I can clarify anything please let me know; I tried to explain everything that I thought needed it but I can never tell what others will need more clarification on!!

And also, thanks again for asking this!! I don't know many people who do full drafts, or even many people who don't completely pants everything they write, and so I'm always excited to discuss my process!! I also am a firm believer in "take what helps and leave the rest," so if you find something in my process that sounds like something you'd like to do, give it a whirl!! I think it's super important to share the different kinds of processes there can be for writing, because everyone really writes so differently, you know?

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoyed my shitty early drafts (very affectionate)!!

[tinygumdrops]

hello hello!! i've been a reader of your works since about 2020, when you were posting a bit abt haikyuu, and i reread your fics as a treat since your writing is special to me. there was always this certain feeling to your works that i could never pin down, and i finally realised what it was. it was kinda like the acknowledgement and romanticisation of the mundane that is always present in hayao miyazaki's studio ghlibi films, yknow? you always let your stories breathe, which is something that tends to be sorely lacking in even a lot of critically acclaimed stories and media nowadays. your stories are probably why i like character studies so much, ahaha, since you explore whatever character you write as much as possible. i gotta say though, i did trawl your feed a little and was wanting to ask if luffy inspires in you what hinata does, and if you were going to write about him. knowing now that you hate the process of writing and only really do it if your love for a character is sufficient made me see your fics in a new light, because they were labours of love. i'll have to print out your fics for safekeeping at some point though, even if i am scared to death of people stumbling onto my fandom tendencies, ahaha. seeya!

HELLO TO YOU TOO omg pleasure to meet you, anon! And *sobs* 2020 really was that year, yeah? So happy to hear that my fics made you feel better in that sucky year ;-; I can relate in a way; I honestly don't think I would've made it out sane without writing to keep the unpleasant thougths at bay. I guess that's why my earlier works for the Haikyuu!! fandom had a lot of, uh, "ghibli-esque" vibes, as you described. So yeah, you finding that I "always let [my] stories breathe"? *tears up* honestly one of the biggest compliments I've ever received, considering I've always feared I complicate things too much in my works, thank you so much!!!

Oh man, you mentioned Luffy---please know that you will never have a comprehensible, succinct conversation with me once you bring up Luffy, but I will try to truncate myself since this isn't really the appropriate place to ramble :DDD BUT YES, I'm actually dying to write about him!!! I do have a simple thing in mind, something about Luffy and two other Strawhats who I'd like to explore more, but it's probably going to take me some time... real life, god, such a pain. It's going to be a challenge writing in Luffy's POV though *crying* it's so strange how foreign his mind can be to me even though we've known him for 1000+ chapters already.

Oh and *sobs* sorry, I did have this super ugly habit of purging my fics, but I think I've gotten better in resisting that urge over the years! I've seen the discourse around it and I've learned a lot; I'll try not to spread my misery by deleting works I no longer wanted to be associated with but might've meant something to somebody. So please don't fret about my current hq!! works going poof anytime soon! Like, you don't have to print them out; it must be expensive, and I can totally imagine how it'd feel if someone were to find printed fics in my sock drawer ;-; Alsoooo I'm not stepping away from the hq!! fandom any time soon, I'm actually writing a Yachi & Yamaguchi fic (I hope it's okay to soft launch here :DDDD I really want to publish it soon and I want to hold myself accountable). It's absolutely criminal that I don't have a story for them yet when I adore these besties so much ;-; I think it's time to change that this year!!!

So sorry for the super long response, I hope that didn't bore you ;-; Thanks for stopping by!!!

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly,  tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water. 

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!” 

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.” 

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over. 

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots. 

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.” 

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.” 

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

[chrissychats]

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 4

Masterlist // child reader ML //

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, casinos

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝗼𝐤𝗼 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝗼𝐰??

Quackity was telling you all of his plans

He rambled on for hours of his ideas for casinos and how he was going to marry Karl and sapnap

It sounded great

He had his whole plan set up! He even had Sam helping him with the building

But then he left

Just like everyone else

But that was fine! You were just with sapnap

Before Karl came running over rambling on about needed to move his library

He had a library?

“[Redacted] you need to stay close, please”

You looked at him weirdly

Who the fuck was [redacted]

“Karl my names Y/n you idiot” “flame..” “sorry”

He didn’t even notice it and then you had to spend the next couple days hauling over 100 books

“Oo hey what are these! The covers look really weird”

You had found his time travel books

Woops

That man raced over and in the kindest way possible, snatched it from your hands

“Don’t touch those, they are my special books”

You just shrugged and let him be, he freaks you out enough

So you all traveled to this area in the spruce forest and built a really ugly mushroom hut

But hey it’s fine! Foolish thankfully came around later that day and made everything better

So you stuck around

Maybe you needed this, this new start

Oh but prime knows that wouldnt last long

Karl started forgetting

At first it was simple things as just forgetting where he was or little stumbles with names

But eventually he was going away longer and longer

He started calling you by these strange names, some that sound Victorian and western and others that are unlike you

One day he didn’t call you by your name at all

You were hanging around the Sakura trees and the big yin Yang pond waiting for sapnap to come back with George

Then you saw Karl exit the library, running up to him for a hug

It’s been two months since you’ve seen him

You fucking hated it but you couldn’t help but consider him another parental figure

He loved it

But he just stood there as you wrapped your arms around him

Expecting the usual “[reda]- Y/n, I’ve missed you so much my sweet flame!”

But there was nothing just a sad one sided hug

“Hello? I’m sorry but do I know you?”

You were ready to cry

“I’m sorry, I uh must’ve mistaken you for the wrong person” “No that’s fine! Hugs are nice?”

So you left and ran into the library

Scouring throughout all of the books until you found them

The same 8 books you shrugged away

You read through all of them along with Karl’s other journals

You didn’t like going through his stuff especially, a whole invasion of privacy

The more you read the worse it got

What were you gonna tell Sapnap?

Who the hell is James, and [redacted]?

And why couldn’t he stop

It’s no use anymore

You were simply just forgotten

𝐋𝗼𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

The closer you got to the large building, the sicker you got

Kinoko Kingdom was supposed to be your free pass

But somehow you always end up here

You called for Sam on the comms waiting for the beep

The inside looked great to say the least

“What are your past relationships with the prisoner?” “No answer.”

“Where are you currently resided?” “No answer”

“Do you believe the prisoner deserves his sentence?” “Maybe”

You put all your shit in the locker and followed him through all the safety checks

“I’m glad you didn’t bring anything with you”

You stood on the platform heart racing as the lava went down

It was like a ticking time bomb

The small squeaks and scratches of the hovering bridge

He just stared at you

That sick stupid mask was broken by tommy that day in the black stone room

So you had to look into his face

Lets just say he looks good in Orange

“Barrier up or down?” “Down”

He backed up into the corner as you stepped in

Smiling

Once the lava cascaded down your smile turned into a sick frown

“Hello” is that all he had to fucking say?

“Screw you. Fuck you. Damn you”

He just looked you a small chuckle escaping from his lips

“Those all mean the same thing.” “Well I’ve been living in cinnamon town for the past couple months, and I’m ready to fucking burn some buns”

Yeah he just laughed

“I’ve missed you Hot shot”

“You ruined our damn life!”

Someone went quiet

“If you didn’t have to have a petty little war, or criminalize children we could’ve been fine! It could’ve just been you, dad, me, and George.”

You were pissed, everyone just kept leaving you.

Tommy and Tubbo, Quackity, Karl, Dream, and hell even Wilbur

“You come and visit me, after not having seen me for months and you just yell? Not a hello or ‘how are you dream?’ ‘How’s prison dream’ ‘how can I help you get out of this damn place’ “

You just sat down ready to just walk out into the lava

“I’ve been stuck here for months! None of you even cared enough to visit me, hell even Tommy came around.”

You might have felt a little bad after leaving him

The prison was cold even tho lava was flowing right there

“Why would you leave the discs alone..” “Because I had to end it.”

What were you doing here

What were you planning on saying?

“So, what do you do in prison”

“I have a clock.”

You got up to go look at the pretty clock

Then threw it at his face

“Ow” “deal with it bitch”

The longer you stayed the worse the feeling in your stomach got

so you buzzed for Sam waving goodbye

“Wait.. Do they miss me?” “Can’t say, but I think this may be for the best.”

He wanted his best friends

But he just got the annoying teenager

Oh but that wouldn’t be the last

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬

You got a letter in the mail one day

Who the hell uses letters??

You were shocked to see the address and the small post card

“Come around some time”-Quackity

Ans on the back it had the cords

Oh well what did you have to loose? Sapnap was focused on Karl

and well Karl didn’t even know you

So you set off

It took you a couple hours travel by horse to get to the desert area

The large sign blaring in the red text

You gotta admit the place looked beautiful

There was a giant dick and different shops

You were shocked to see this random un human like guy

“Hello, I am Charlie a totally human guy!”

Yeah totally not slime

“I’m uh, Y/n?” He reached out for a handshake sort of thing

“Dap me up!” “Another time Charlie”

Maybe when you had hand sanitizer

“Ohh so your Y/n! Mister Quackity talks about you all the time, come on in!”

You were skeptical but followed anyways

Stopping in your tracks when you saw Fundy

“Furry?” “Fire shit?”

You went over to give him a side hug, ruffling his fur

“What the hell are you doing here ginger boy!” “Oh you know, just escaping nightmares”

You were confused then just let him be

You walked to the entry way of the place

A beautiful pond with flowers and an arch

“Did what the place where Mr. Quackity was going to propose!”

Going to?

You shrugged it off following inside

You hated to admit it, but you were excited to see him

Yeah you really needed a parental figure in your life at the moment

So when you saw him, he immediately pick you up in a hug

You didn’t fail to notice his change in appearance

That beanie stayed the same tho

Thank god

“Hey hey! Let me show you around the place, we can also go for lunch and talk.”

The casino looked great to say the least

Loud music booming from the speakers, along with the live jazz band on the side

Slot machines were going off every minute

“Have a chip, something to remember this by”

He handed you a red poker chip

It was a cool one tho, in the middle has a blocky sort of smile

Creepy and dopey.. sick!

So you put it around a spare silver chain

“So how have you been kid? ‘Ts been a while hasn’t it.” “Could be better..”

You both walked around the city in silence, offering to go in the super model shop

“No” “why not” “keep walking”

On your way to lunch you had to squint at what you were seeing

“Oh my goodness you’re still alive?!” “You’re alive!?”

You and revivebur just stared at one another

“Yeah he came back after I died!” “you what now-“

You just stared at Tommy and back to Wilbur

Oh god those shrooms were messing with your head

You should’ve gotten out of there a while ago

Quackity came over placing his hands on your shoulders

“Do I have to execute you both? Get off my damn property”

“Sorry Q. Say, Y/n wanna join Lmanburg 2.0?”

You back away holding your hands up

“I denied that offer once, and I’ll do it again. Fucking zombie freaks”

You obviously muttered the last part

Why the fuck did dream revive those two shits??

When did Tommy even die??

Your visit here has just gotten weirder and weirder

𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Quackity got you away from the brits as quick as he could

So he brought you over to his office

“So kid, how’s your dad..”

Ah you expected this question

“How the fuck am I supposed to know. He’s living his life, Karl’s time traveling! Oh yeah did I mention he doesn’t even remember me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes

“So I’m not the only one they forgot..”

You slammed you hands on the fable dramatizing the situation

“How would you feel about moving here? I mean you could work for me in the casino!”

You thought about it for a second

You have two options

1. Live in shroom town with bubbles

2. Move to las Nevada’s with Quackity

You were sure Sapnap wouldn’t mind

I mean would he even care?

He hasn’t for the past couple months!

“You feel abandoned there, over here there are hundreds of people. You’ll have the time of your life”

You thought about it for a sec

“Alright hand me a contract”

So you signed

Making deals with the devil huh

Little did you know it would cost you your life

Devils little soul

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

and this is the finale! I will take requests for sapnaps child, and I’ll do some shit with Quackity and the casino and go in more depth if wanted!

As always request and ask anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist (child reader or general)

For those on the taglist I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged for all child reader shit or just dreams child.. so please tell me :)

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky

[shonenkun309]

A/N : Hello hello, how are things? As you can see, my spirit and my love for the game returned after downloading the Japanese version, but this doesn't mean that I won't post the story, especially since the interesting events have begun and more details have begun to appear about the identity of the perpetrator in the mystery of the story. So this chapter is going to be a bit bit bit bit longer than usual, I hope you enjoy.

𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑭𝒖𝒏 ~𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒏~

Chapters : 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 , 9

CHAPTER 10

𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅 ➡➡➡

“Seriously, Futaba,” Fukajiro exclaimed, wide-eyed with surprise. “I didn’t expect Mr. Toichiro’s collections came from your dad!” She was taken aback by how many folks seemed to know her friend, but Futaba just grinned in response.

“Yeah, he’s one of my dad’s clients,” Futaba explained, a spark of pride in her voice. “He’s always got an eye for the antiques my dad’s got on display, so we got to know each other pretty well.” As Futaba shared the story of Toichiro’s relationship with her father, Fukajiro leaned in, genuinely captivated by the conversation. The joy of hearing about her friend’s life made her feel warm inside.

“I envy you,” Fukajiro said, a dreamy expression on her face. “You’ve got so many people who know you for all the right reasons. You must be something special.” Futaba blinked, caught off guard by Fukajiro’s sincerity, who continued to gaze at the road ahead with a smile plastered across her face.

“You think so?” Futaba replied, a hint of shyness creeping into her voice.

“Totally! It’s like, instead of you trying to get close to people, they’re drawn to you. They see your background, your class, all those little quirks that make you, you. It’s kinda magical how they look at you from different angles, not just one. You’ve got something they’ve all been searching for, you know? Not that I’m jealous or anything!” Fukajiro rambled, her words flowing like a river.

Futaba didn’t say much after that. Listening to an eleven-year-old express profound thoughts like an adult was something rare, especially considering Fukajiro’s mix of naivety and wisdom. Lost in her thoughts, Futaba stared at her friend, watching as Fukajiro’s attention shifted to a quaint little shop with its doors wide open. An old man shuffled out, balancing a box in his arms. Without missing a beat, Fukajiro started towards him.

“Excuse me, sir?” she called out, her voice bright.

“Ah, Fukajiro! Welcome!” The shop owner’s face lit up, beaming at her like an old friend.

“You said you’d be closing up today?” Fukajiro asked casually.

Futaba blinked with surprise, her curiosity piqued. “You know each other?” she asked, attempting to piece together the scene.

“Yeah, it’s pretty simple—I work here,” Fukajiro replied, her tone as matter-of-fact as could be.

Futaba’s eyes widened. A girl her age had already landed a job? What about her parents? The question lingered unasked as she let Fukajiro carry on, intrigued by her friend’s unexpected world.

Fukajiro leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. "Did something happen?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

The shop owner waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, nothing serious. Just found one of the shelves busted; a few items got banged up. I didn’t wanna wear you out with extra work, so I said I was closing up for the day to fix it."

Fukajiro huffed, crossing her arms. "You should've told me, sir. I don’t mind putting in some extra hours if it means helping you out."

"That’s real kind of you, Fukajiro," he replied with a warm smile, "but it’s all good. This kind young man here didn’t mind lending me a hand."

Fukajiro’s eyes widened as she turned toward the source of that moniker. “Kind young man?” she echoed, confusion swirling in her head.

Before she could ponder it further, a loud voice bounced from inside the shop. Koga, looking annoyingly cheerful, emerged with a stack of boxes, casually tossing them down. "Alright now, I’m gonna—oh, hey Futaba, and... Fukajiro, right?"

Futaba waved back at him, but Fukajiro just stood there, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor. "You?! What are you doing here?!"

The shop owner shrugged. "He offered his help. I couldn’t say no."

Fukajiro fumed, her frustrations bubbling over. “Why do I always run into you everywhere? Especially when I’m with Futaba?!”

She glared at him, her eyes shooting daggers, but Koga just laughed it off, the grin plastered across his face.

"Hehe..."

"This is MY place! You’re not allowed to be here, got it?!" Fukajiro’s short arms flailed in the air, as if she were ready to throw a punch. But Koga just patted her head, much to her annoyance.

The shop owner chuckled, watching the back-and-forth unfold. “You two clearly get along well.”

Futaba stood back, observing the playful chaos, until a thought hit her. She’d come all this way to check on Koga after the news broke last night, and despite the antics, he looked alright.

“Ugh, that girl again?” A lazy voice cut through the chatter, revealing Kuya, who was nonchalantly holding an ice cream cone.

“Why’s her voice so loud all of a sudden?” he asked, taking a lick.

Fukajiro was still on a roll, scolding Koga for crashing her workspace while he nodded along with a grin, clearly enjoying the banter.

“You’re not taking me seriously, are you?!” she shot back, her exasperation rising.

“Fine, fine, I’m outta here. I won’t interfere, okay?” Koga retorted, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Get lost!” Fukajiro snapped, her irritation palpable.

“Fukajiro!” Futaba suddenly interjected, her tone sharp enough to cut through the chaos. Fukajiro turned, startled, as she caught the intensity in Futaba’s gaze. It took her aback.

In one fierce glare exchanged with Koga, she felt that carefree atmosphere wane. Koga’s smile faded, confusion creeping in as Fukajiro silently turned on her heel and stepped back into the shop, leaving the ruckus behind.

°•°•°

As the trio continued their stroll, Koga broke the silence with a hint of irritation. "You really shouldn’t have snapped at her like that," he said, glancing sideways at Futaba.

Futaba scoffed, "Did you even hear the way she talked to you? Sure, she’s a little kid, but really, she’s got a sharp tongue when it comes to you!"

Kuya, trailing behind them with a laid-back air, chimed in with a sardonic slant, "Yeah, that ‘stinging tongue’ only comes out when Koga’s around." There was a flicker of annoyance in his voice, but there was no time to dwell on the banter. Futaba felt it was best to steer the conversation back to the serious stuff, and she dove into her story about visiting Toichiro’s place and what Kogare had let slip.

“So, even the prophet’s playing it safe when it comes to this mysterious Ayakashi?” Kuya asked, raising an eyebrow.

Futaba shook her head, her expression turning serious. “I wouldn’t exactly call it *playing it safe*, but let’s just say, she made a point of visiting Kitsune village to dodge a run-in with the Ayakashi—she made it known to everyone she was avoiding it.” Concern laced her voice, and it was clear that this wasn’t just child’s play; there was a grave danger lurking, one that threatened the capital and the lives of many.

Kuya scratched the back of his head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “But we don’t know squat about what this Ayakashi really is. How does it attack without even laying a finger on anyone, without leaving a trace?”

Koga couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. “Exactly. That’s the kicker—we know it’s dangerous, yet the full story is still a mystery, and innocent folks are getting hurt left and right.” The weight of it all hung heavily on him; he hated witnessing suffering when he felt powerless to stop it.

Futaba placed a reassuring hand on Koga’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to the others, see if they can pitch in. So don’t sweat it, alright?” Her gaze was steady and sincere, and Koga couldn’t help but look at her with a mix of tenderness and appreciation. He reached out, giving her head a gentle stroke, his wordless support speaking louder than anything he could say.

°•°•°

The next day, Futaba and Nachi headed over to Racord to fill the rest of the crew in on the latest developments. To their surprise, the twins Yura and Gaku were already there, looking deep in conversation. "Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me the prophet did that on purpose? For real?!" Nachi exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. Futaba didn’t skimp on the details; things were getting seriously out of hand, and they couldn’t just sit back and ignore it anymore.

"If what you’re saying is true and there's an ayakashi lurking in the shadows, we’re in way over our heads," Gaku interjected, his tone heavy with concern. Yura chimed in, his voice thoughtful, “Verily, in all my years, I hath ne'er heard o' an ayakashi that doth harm from a distance such as that. I wast about to say an' wraiths, but wraiths doth usually go after persons right forth — this one doth play a different game.”

Kuro folded his arms, “So, basically, figuring out who this ayakashi is—if we can even find a hint—is next to impossible?”

“True,” Ginnojo replied, nodding. “But knowing we’re dealing with an ayakashi instead of just random chaos? That’s progress.”

Aoi interrupted, a spark of concern in his eyes. “What about the wraiths that are popping back up? I mean, a wraith already attacked Futaba at school, and the deadbeat swears he spotted another one at Shinobazu pond.”

“Wraiths tend to flock to negative energy,” Ginnojo explained. “The school incident? That’s pretty standard. But what Kuya saw at the pond? That’s a whole other kettle of fish.”

“Hello?” Cut in a childish voice just as the group tried to weigh in on the growing tension. They all turned to see Fukajiro bursting through the door.

“Oh, look who it is,” Oji greeted with a cheer. “Welcome, Fukajiro.”

“Hey, Fukajiro!” Futaba tried to sound upbeat, but the worry etched on her face dulled her enthusiasm. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been looking for you forever, Futaba. I... I need to apologize for what happened yesterday,” Fukajiro said, her voice shaky.

“What happened yesterday?” Nachi chimed in, eyes darting between the two girls.

“Fukajiro, I’m really not the one you should be apologizing to; you need to apologise to Koga—” Futaba started to say when Fukajiro cut her off.

“I’m never saying sorry to that man!!!” Fukajiro snapped, her tone fierce enough to silence everyone in the room. Before they could process what had just occurred, she turned on her heel and exited without even a backward glance, leaving a charged silence behind her.

Aoi raised an eyebrow. “No offense, but your friend seems... a little off.” But the group brushed off the incident and plunged back into their discussion.

“When things started getting messy, I took it upon myself to do some nighttime exploring. I was checking out Asakusa when it hit me—someone was watching me,” Ginnojo recalled, shifting the focus back to the pressing issues at hand. His words felt like a dark cloud settling over the room, pulling everyone in closer.

“Someone was watching you? From where?” Futaba asked, her interest piqued.

“I followed the feeling to the Twelve Stories Tower,” Ginnojo said, eyebrows furrowing as he recalled the eerie pull he felt. “When I got there, I could see all of Asakusa from the top, but still… nothing. It felt like something was looming over me, but it wasn’t a wraith. This presence had a power that was way beyond that.”

Aoi leaned forward, captivated. “Did you find anything up there?”

“Just a bunch of sand,” Ginnojo replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Sand…?” Oji mused, his brow raised.

“Probably just dust or something, right?” Nachi guessed, trying to dismiss the oddity.

“No, no,” Ginnojo insisted. “It was sand—like a weird heap of it, just sitting there without a reason.”

While theories started to fly about the strange sand, Yura remained silent, deep in thought. Futaba couldn’t help but notice. “Have you come up with something, Yura?” she asked.

Yura’s face shifted from contemplation to a serious calm. “The feeling that Sir Ginnojo hath experienced? 'Tis not that you doth brush't aside. 'Twas too intense to be an' wraith. What if....what if'twas an ayakashi?”

Kuro’s expression shifted, “You mean what Gin-Gin sensed was the very ayakashi the prophet warned us about?”

“I cannot confirmeth,” Yura warned, “but we doth needeth to tred with care. If the prophet did see fit to giveth us an warning, then this situation is far more perilous than any wraith we’ve faced.”

As their conversation wound down, a sense of dread wrapped around Futaba’s heart. The reality of the situation hit her hard: the prophet’s words were no joke. Whatever lingered out there, Ginnojo had felt its presence, and it was no mere wraith. Something much more sinister was at play.

°•°•°

Kuro leaned back, trying to ease the tension that had settled uncomfortably in the air. “Come on, guys, you totally just set Futaba on edge. Let’s switch gears for a bit, okay?” Thankfully, the group picked up on his cue and the conversation shifted, leaving behind the weighty conversation like tossed-off dust.

Yura raised an eyebrow. “So, thou sayest your littlest companion doth believeth in Ayakashi?”

Futaba nodded, her eyes brightening a little at the mention of Fukajiro. “Yeah, She’s convinced they’re real. She even saw Nachi change from a cat into a human by accident and knows you’re in on the secret too.”

Aoi smiled, leaning in with an amused tone. “Looks like you two are tight since she came around.”

Yura, in a mock medieval flair, added, “I hath ne'er had the pleasure of her company, but from her appearance and speech, she doth appear to be quite the intriguing young maiden.”

Futaba’s smiles, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “Totally, even though our school lessons are different, she gets everything. She helped me catch up on all the stuff I missed during the Wraith Incident. Oh, and get this—she saved Kogare from a carriage that was flying down the street! She was faster than that thing, I swear it was all over in a blink. Plus, she’s even picked up a little job after school, and she’s a kid.”

She rambled on about her new friend's quirks and talents, even bringing up how, out of nowhere, Fukajiro had developed a serious dislike for Koga—like, what was that all about?

Oji chuckled, shaking his head, “And here I thought Koga was like, the kids’ best buddy.”

He laughed, almost teasingly, but the others didn’t really care too much to notice that Futaba’s face had dimmed slightly at the memory of her last awkward run-in with Fukajiro outside the shop.

°•°•°

Futaba and Nachi walked away from Racord, but Ginnojo’s words lingered in their minds like a shadow. The idea of the entity lurking in the tower gnawed at them. If this Ayakashi was indeed at the heart of the chaos gripping the capital, it had to be striking its victims from the tower’s heights. But why there? A barrage of questions spun in Futaba’s mind. She couldn’t wrap her head around the logic behind it all, until Nachi’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Hm? What is it, Nachi?” she replied, shaking herself back to the moment.

“Futaba... listen, I really think you should stay home for a while,” he suggested, his tone more serious than ever.

“What? Why would I do that?” Futaba shot back, surprised.

“It’s crystal clear, isn’t it? I’m worried you might become a target for that crazy Ayakashi. You know what it’s capable of!” His words were firm, and as Futaba looked into his eyes, she realized just how deeply his concern ran.

“I appreciate your worry, Nachi, but I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I made a vow to stop this,” she said, determination washing over her.

“I get it, but…” Nachi started, but Futaba held her ground.

“I nearly fell victim to that thing at school. If I sit here doing nothing, who knows what it might do next? It could hurt my friends, and maybe even me again,” she asserted, echoing her previous conversations with Toichiro. Nachi hesitated, processing her words, but she pressed on. “I promise I’ll be careful. I need to take action before it takes me down. And I expect you by my side when I do.”

Her motivational tone seemed to catch him off guard, a spark of pride breaking through his worry. “Of course! Don’t sweat it, Futaba. As your self-appointed bodyguard, I’ll go to any lengths to keep you safe.” His smile returned, and it lifted the heavy weight of anxiety between them, setting the stage for their partnership in the chaos ahead.

As night engulfed the city, the capital fell into a deep slumber. Nachi, in his feline form, curled up and drifted off near Futaba’s futon. But Futaba was wide awake, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. If what Ginnojo and Yura had said held any truth, the Ayakashi’s movements started at or near the tower. If they were going to patrol, that would be the obvious place to begin.

Futaba mentally prepared her next steps as fatigue tugged at her eyelids. Just as she was about to succumb to sleep, a jolt of ominous energy coursed through her, yanking her out of bed in a panic. “This sensation... now?!” she murmured, glancing at Nachi, who remained blissfully asleep. She didn’t want to disturb him, so she quietly ventured outside, following the source of that unsettling feeling.

The closer she got to the riverbank, the stronger the sensation tugged at her, twisting her stomach into knots. (What is this? It feels way too intense to just be a Wraith.) That memory of Yura’s ominous words flooded back: “The feeling that Sir Ginnojo hath experienced? 'Tis not that you doth brush't aside. 'Twas too intense to be an' wraith. What if....what if'twas an ayakashi?”

Chilled to her core, she hesitated. Could it really be an Ayakashi? But curiosity and determination propelled her forward.

As she approached the riverbank, an earth-shattering roar pierced the nighttime air. “UGGRRRRAAAAAHH!!!” The familiar sound sent a rush of dread through her veins. Sure enough, a dark figure emerged, its red eyes gleaming with malice. But when she squinted, she noticed something else—another person was there, standing strong against the Wraith, weapon in hand.

With a sleek spear raised high, they moved like a pro, fluid and focused. Futaba felt fear creeping in. This person looked ready to tackle hell itself.

“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” the Wraith raged, but before Futaba could fully process the scene, the stranger dashed forward. In a blink, they struck, slicing through the Wraith as if it were nothing, sending it into oblivion with a clean cut.

Futaba stood frozen, her breath hitching at the display of power. Then, CRACK! —a small branch snapped beneath her foot, and the stranger’s head whipped around, locking eyes with her.

“...!!” Now, she was caught in the spotlight. Her heart raced, and a thousand thoughts collided in her mind as she gripped the ground, waiting for what might come next.