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lostonehero · 10 months ago

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In which I write a time travel foc where the Web the Beholder and the Lonely fight over Martin becoming their perfect Avatar because again he deserves all the power

Maybe lonelyeyes parents maybe

Martin gasps as he sits up. His hands were red painted by the blood of the man he loved. His legs were not crushed by the fallen ceiling. He was small. Well, he thinks he is small he can't recall the last time a blanket pooled around him like this nor the childish bedroom he was in. Did it work? Did they save the world? Where's Jon?

Martin pulled himself out of the hollow comfort of his bed and realized yes, he was quite small, and the small calander on his bedside full of cute spiders... wait, spiders? He didn't have a calander like that, but the date was more than enough to convince him that he was five. He slowly opened his door to the scent of breakfast and a familiar voice.

"Martin? You shouldn't be up this early." It was his mother and by her tone and the man who came into view she was happy if only because his father hasn't left yet.

Martin didn't exactly know what to say or do, but he climbed on a chair and tried to put on a smile.

That lasted about three minutes when a fog seemed to appear in his home. The webs seem to be built out of nothing trying to fight the fog. The shreiks from his mother about spiders and his fathers huff about the humidity in the house made him know for a fact he wasn't imagining it.

Martin really didn't want to be here, nor did he want to think he was the only one flung back here. He sighs and sneaks out through the chaos to his room.

......

The park was nice, and it wasn't as if he didn't want to be outside enjoying the not apcoloypse, but he wanted to find Jon and he couldn't exactly do that because he's five. Jon was two years older than him, and if he tried and Jon didn't come back, it probably would end poorly.

Martin sneezes the familiar mist of the Lonely tickled his nose and he tried to rub the feeling away he was too annoyed to really care that he was being followed by them also the Web but he liked spiders so he was fine with that, well as long as Annabelle Cane didn't show up. He stopped his thoughts as he saw a work boot worn from use attached to a man who stood in front of him.

"Hello, little child." That voice he knew too happy for what he represents. It was Peter Lucas didn't look much different than when he last saw him.

Martin raised his brow and stared up from his spot in the grass he sat in his coloring book forgotten as he started to scowl. Obviously, he didn't come back. Which may be fortunate for him, but he really just didn't want to bother with him. "I can scream and alert the entire place if you even try."

Peter blinked, surprised shock on his features. "I... uh, what?" The damn cheery tone was still there now laced with confusion.

Martin looked over to the sound of footsteps, and shoes too expensive to be in the grass were on his other side. He groaned. "Seriously." He huffs, looking over to Elias.

"Peter, what brings you here?" Elias asked, annoyed, was etched on his features since he didn't expect to see him here.

"Elias." Peter rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "I'm busy here."

"A public park seems quite out of style for you." Elias has an amused look on his face as Peter shifted uncomfortably.

"So you two are currently divorced then." Martin huffs and stands up. "Well, have your spat somewhere else. I'm in no mood for this."

"Divorced? Child, we aren't.. we..." Elias stops himself stepping back as a woman with cobwebs in her hair approaches, holding a dark skined child with green eyes.

She drops the child down next to the red-headed child. He was older and bigger than the small boy. "Jonah.... Peter." Her voice soft and a smile hung loosely on her lips.

"Martin!?" The dark skin boy gasps.

"Jon!" Martin pulled the bigger boy into a hug.

Elias huffs. "Why are you here?"

"Why indeed?" The woman chuckles.

Peter looked like he wanted to vanish, but he could feel his patron holding strong. The desire to get the boy to protect them was overwhelming, and he may have felt something new odd like it was tugging him to Elias. He assumed Elias felt it as well by the quicker brow as he stared at him and his eyes glowed.

Elias sighs. "I am merely here looking for someone."

Jon crossed his arms and tried to look angry, but he only pouted. He knew exactly what the Beholder told him and how he wasn't free and, well, now a stronger avatar than Elias if that was possible, but he also knew they wanted Martin to keep safe to keep them partnered to stop the mistakes of the apocalypse, and as a apology gift to Jon himself. He, however, had no clue why Peter or Annabelle were there. Elias was predictable at least following the Eye to its desires. "Martin, let's go."

Martin stops and stares at Jon. "We're children. Where do you expect us to go?"

Jon faltered. "I uh right we are aren't we."

"Still the eye?" Martin hums as he watches his partner nod. "So know why they are here?"

"I know why Elias is here." Jon pauses and shakes his head, rubbing his temples.

"Right." Martin rocks on his heels. "Can I meet your grandma?"

"Oh uh sure she's on the bench over there." Jon points, and Martin follows, leaving the three adults to talk.

Peter notices first as he tries to leave the conversation. Too many people and his patron were tugging at him more than normal, and it wasn't as if he was hungry. The kid was gone, well, both kids were gone. He could see them walk off hand in hand to an older woman on a bench. He knew his patron wanted the child to mold them to become an avatar. He didn't know why, nor did he want to ask, but it was quieter over there, and he couldn't handle this argument any longer.

"Peter." Elias crossed his arms.

Peter hated that expensive suit on him. He could rip it off take what he wanted, and Elias knew that, and he probably wanted him to. "The kids are gone."

Elias blinks and swallows. "I right you are."

The woman frowns. "I'll be back."

Peter swallows. "Wait.... ok, just wait." The two look at him. "It's not just mine, is it? That kid you want him to?"

Elias's eyes widen, realizing what Peter was getting at. "The one kid... Martin Blackwood, your... The Lonely wants him?"

"Our mother has her desires as well." The woman quirks her brow. "I was not informed that this would be a competition. I seem to be disadvantaged as it seems to be two against us."

Peter shrugs looking at Elias.

"The other boy...... Jonathan Sims, he's already the Eyes." Elias frowns. "That doesn't explain, Martin."

Peter begins to walk off and eventually vanishes from sight.

Elias frowns. "Peter, wait, we can discuss this." He knew that meant nothing. Peter was in the lonely and he couldn't see him there. He was frustrated and confused he needed to figure this out. Those kids weren't kids he knew that much, but he didn't know what they were except for... Jon he was an avatar of the eye, but he was so young, and he didn't understand that.

The woman just walked off, knowing she was defeated for the moment.

......

Something shifted, and Elias knew it immediately as if the eye was sastified. No, that wasn't the right term for that he felt.

".... a bet." Elias shuts his mouth as fast as he could, his teeth clicked together.

"Not quite." Peter appeared from the mist. "More a friendly visit than asking to wager."

"... Peter, I wasn't referring to us." Elias leaned back in his chair. "The Eye seems to have taken a wager. I've never been able to truly interact with my patron before it seems almost as if.." He stops himself and rubs his temples. "Not important, I suppose. Why are you here?"

Peter hums leans over Elias's desk close to the other man's face. "It seems my patron wants me to stay more often than be on my ship. Some something kids and so forth. Perhaps it has to our patrons taking a page from us."

Elias rolled his eyes. "Not from us, from something they won't let me see."

"Spoilsport, is the bed still on the table all knowing?" Peter grinned at the slight nod. "I'll try not to bring the mist around."

Elias sighs. Sure, he wasn't exactly against Peter staying with him they've done that plenty of times. Even through two different bodies of his. He supposed he did miss having Peter close, but that was just old emotions talking. He also did not want to give Martin the sastifation of that divorced comment. Maybe he'll allow himself a weakness for Peter. He shudders as he feels praise in his entire being. His patron liked that? He needed a drink.

.....

"I like spiders." Martin holds the small common house spider in his hand, cradling it as gentle as he could with his small hands.

"I do not." Jon rolled his eyes. "But I tolerate them for you."

Martin frowns, letting the small creature down. "I think they want me to pick."

"What?" Jon looks at Martin in surprise.

"I mean, why else would the three of them surround me? It seems the fears remember their fuck up, and it wants me to join one of them." Martin shrugs. "Honestly, I don't know what to pick when it comes to it. I like being normal, but I know that won't last long. I might have to do something rash if I'm stuck reliving my childhood again."

Jon never pried into Martin's childhood, nor did he press when he flinched away from the subject. He never even asked why he hated oolong tea. "Is... I... uh."

"She never hurt me physically, I don't think. I got bigger than her fast, so I don't think she thought it wise to do so. It was verbal abuse the resentment of having ne while my father abandoned us. I did my best to care for her even when she did get sick. A lot of good that did me in the end. I would rather not go through that again." Martin sighs, brushing his red hair out of his face.

"I uh I didn't know." Jon frowns. "What else could you do?"

"Don't know if you haven't noticed we are children and don't exactly have that freedom being adults bring." Martin crossed his arms. "And just because you're two years older than me means nothing in this context."

Jon chuckles softly. "Kiddnapping?"

"You're terrible." Martin smirks long used to his partner's humor.

Jon pauses as his eyes glow. "I believe Peter Lucas is pulling strings with the wealth he has for you."

Martin groans. "Still probably better than the alternative. Wait wait Jon is he with Elias?" His tone wasn't laced with fear or even wariness it was amusement.

"I uh I don't know?" Jon huffs, and his nose bleeds. "Can't say... they don't want me to know."

Martin pulls out a napkin he shoved in his pocket when Jon's grandmother got them ice cream. "Here, and uh, sorry. I just wanted to know if they're still in their divorced era."

Jon laughs and wipes the blood from his nose. "Divorce era? Martin, they can't get married yet."

"Ok, fine, breakup era." Martin grins as Jon laughs harder.

......

The next time Jon sees someone of familairty, it isn't Martin to his annoyance. It's Elias in that perfect too expensive suit and that smirk he always seemed to wear. It didn't feel right to call him Jonah unless he was truly upset with him. Currently, he knew he was just annoyed.

"Jonathan, come here." Jon's grandmother motions for him to come closer. "Why didn't you tell me you've been offered a scholarship?"

Jon scowls the best he could, but again, it comes out as a pout on his lips. "I didn't think I won it." A lie, but he honestly wanted to see what Elias was planning.

"Of course you won it." Elias smiles and holds his hand out. "Oh, I was just discussing with your lovely grandmother what it entailed. You'll be going to a private school all expensive paid, and I'm sure you'll make lots of friends."

Jon bit back a groan. He learned a few things from Elias in this moment. One, the man has little to no experience with actual children. Two, just because he couldn't sweet talk anyone doesn't mean his grandmother is swayed. Three, Elias was a idiot and did not realize how bad he was in primary school. He hums. "It sounds fun."

Jon's grandmother pauses and nods. "I do have stipulations. However, I'm sure we can work something out."

Elias smiles and follows the old women inside to the table, and as much as Jon would like to watch Elias squirm under the gaze of his grandmother. He didn't want to bother he already knew he was going, and he should pack.

.....

Gertrude wasn't exactly happy, nor did she expect to see the scene when she checked into work with Gerald behind him. The young teen barely escaped his mother and clung to her like a lost puppy. She did make a promise, and she is all for keeping them. "Elias children here, really?" Her tone dry and void of real emotion except annoyance.

The dark skinned boy with the impossibly green eyes stared at both of them. He had a frown on his lips but quickly returned to his book in his hands, choosing not to intervene even if he wanted to help save Gerry.

Gertrude knew that book was too advanced for a child his age, but she said nothing but stared at Elias with her arms crossed.

"Oh Gertrude, this is Jonathan, but he perfers Jon. Poor thing doesn't have parents, so I took it upon myself to take him in." Elias smiles that golden tongue working overtime.

Gerry caught the child rolling his eyes, but he chose not to say anything.

"Oh, out of the kindness of your heart?" Gertrude shook her head and marched toward startling Gerry, who quickly followed her deeper into the archives.

"Elias, it's not 200 years ago that not exactly how that stuff works anymore." Peter appears holding a sleeping Martin in his arms. "I mean, at least you didn't say you picked him up at an orphanage."

Jon snickers softly.

Elias rolls his eyes. "I told you to bring the boy to my house."

"And I told you we shouldn't separate the kids." Peter huffs. "This isn't our wager."

Elias stiffened and narrowed his eyes. "Just keep them out of my office." He turns and starts to head to his office before stopping. "Peter, why don't you get the kids proper clothes and food whatever kids these days like."

"Kids these days?" Peter swallowed a laugh. "We're you ever a child Jonah?" He smirks as Jon covers his mouth, hiding a giggle.

Martin stirs slightly but isn't fully awake.

"I don't find amusement in that comment. I was a child once, and I don't like like one like you, Peter." Elias scowls, turning back to face him.

"Oh, how scary." Peter rolls his eyes. "Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I'm an idiot. The world has changed." Something shifted, and he finally let his feeling spill from his lips something that someone like him could ever tell another. "Our patrons they've changed, we both know it, and so does everyone else. Don't you want to know why? Have your plans even changed? Does the..."

Martin opens his eyes with a huff annoyed his nap has been disturbed. "Because they learned." His lips curled to a frown, and a frustration can be seen in his features.

"They what?" Elias raised his brow, stepping closer.

Martin huffs and curls into Peter, hiding his small body in the lesser of evil men.

Jon frowns. "You heard him." He sighs. He should rip the bandage off. "We came from 2019 or 2020, and we weren't children. Your little apocalypse, Elias, didn't exactly bring about good things for the patrons their resources after their purge they realized were limited and finite. You can stop death, but eventually, people will just stop being scared. The end didn't enjoy it either they didn't want an end to everything besides the namesake. The web helped us their was a crack in the universe in hill top road. Turns out that crack was a way back to the past, and we fused to our younger self, so did the patrons. It's not exactly pleasant to have the emotional control and energy of a child again."

Elias stares at Jon in shock.

Peter's eyes widened, and he unconsciously held Martin closer in his arms. "I fucking told you."

Elias swallows and crosses his arms. He can feel the Beholder testing him on his next moves. "Bring the children to my house, Peter, and if you must order a take away."

Peter sighs he knew this was Elias's, well Jonah's way of conceding he was wrong and that he needed to think. "Alright, come along, little Jon. I think we have to get you both new clothes and actual food."

Jon nods and walks up to Peter, holding onto his side. "Don't drop him."

"I'm not allowed to." Peter hums.

This sastified Jon more then he realized.

......

Peter regretted his choice in the mall immediately. To crowded and too many people. There are too many emotions and too much fear to feed on. He felt sluggish, and the weight of Martin in his arms seemed to focus him enough that the bags in his arms didn't slip.

Jon looked up at Peter. "I think this is enough for now. I would like to head to that house, Elias mentioned."

Peter nods, and the mist surrounds them, and they appear in an ornate home. He drops the bags and hefts Martin to his shoulder. "I'm.... I'm going to lie down." It seems like he has forgotten he is carrying the boy, and Martin does nothing to alert him comfy in the embrace.

Jon opens his mouth just to shut it, seeing Martin fully relax. He was tired too, but the couch looked nice, and well, he had a feeling Martin missed being held, and as an adult, he knew not many could hold a man over 6ft. He moved to the couch, picking up a plush cow Martin picked out and promptly fell asleep.

......

Martin woke up to a wet feeling, not exactly an embarrassing feeling because he saw the fog as he opened his eyes. Peter was out cold next to him, holding him like a stuffed animal. Maybe he didn't hate the man he was obvious to what Elias was truly planning, and Jon did kill him. He didn't forgive the man, nor did he want to become an avatar of the Lonely, but maybe he could pretend, he never did have a father figure he could recall and honestly Peter is much better then Elias.

A lone spider landed in Martin's gaze.

"I haven't decided." His voice is small and quiet as to not wake the man next to him. "Just because you guys learned and are willing to learn more about humanity as a whole rather than fear doesn't mean I have to choose now. Besides, I have time, also tell the Beholder the answer is a firm no. They have Jon, and I would rather not be all-knowing." Martin shifts and struggles out of Peter's grasp. Finally, he escapes without waking the man. "I should add if any of the other patrons get involved, we should be informed."

The spider quietly seems to nod and vanish in the fog.

......

Jon peers over his book, spotting Martin, who promptly climbs on the couch next to him. "How was your nap?"

Martin shrugs. "I feel like a wind-up toy, and I know it's because we're kids, but like I miss being able to stay awake the entire day. I also miss tea and the ability to get food for myself." His stomach rumbles at the comment. "And don't you say anything. I know you're full from the fall alone, Peter collapsed from how full he got, and he barely even spoke a word to anyone."

"I wasn't going to say anything of that nature...." Jon puts his book down and looks at Martin. He was adorable, pouting his red hair bounced with slight curls. "We could perhaps see what Elias considers food."

Martin groans. "Fuck he probably just has tinned tuna and crackers."

"Maybe he has sugar if we're lucky." Jon snickers, jumping off the couch, letting Martin follow.

"I don't know. He seems pretty basic. Sugar might be too spicy for him." Martin giggles as Jan starts to laugh.

"He probably doesn't even know what proper food tastes like." Jon smiles.

"To be fair, I have caught Jonah eating plain bread as a treat." Peter appears behind the two startling Martin, and Jon doesn't seem bothered.

Martin huffs. "As funny as that is, don't sneak up on me!"

Peter yawns. "It tends to be my nature." He looks to be in more casual clothes and wearing eye covered socks Elias gave him as a joke. "I'll make you both something."

"That depends. Can you actually cook?" Martin crossed his arms with a pout staring up at the man.

Jon joined in his gaze.

Peter shrugs. "I use seasonings."

Martin shrugs. "Good enough."

"Also, Elias is banned from the kitchen." Peter hums. "Well, as long as I am here, he is."

......

In the kitchen, Martin watched Peter work around the kitchen. He was still the same rough looking man he met as an adult. He was probably lying about how old he was. He knew becoming an avatar meant the patron would hold onto you as long as they could, but he knew Peter was younger by Jonah by a wide margin. However, it doesn't seem to change Peter. He still looks like a rough man in his 30s, and the white hair from the lonely didn't help him look younger, and his cheery voice did not match the scarred weather face from years on the sea. His beard was shorter than he could recall, but that didn't really matter.

Peter paused, letting the meat sizzle on the stove. "So what are you two planning?"

Jon shrugs. "The end of the world won't happen." He frowns. "I haven't actually thought of that."

Martin hums. "Short term, or long term. In the long term, I'm marrying Jon. In the short term, I uh try to figure out how to be a kid again."

"That is a good, long-term goal." Jon hums.

Peter plates both of the kids' food and sits in front of them. "I don't envy your position, nor do I totally understand what you two have done to the fears. However, I know I'll be sticking around. My patron has made their wishes clearly known, and it gives me an excuse to ignore my own family even more."

Martin raised his brow to the food. It smelled good but looked like a mess. He cautiously takes a bite, and his eyes light up. "I suppose I can't get a cup of tea with this."

"At your age? No, I can, however, make some hot chocolate." Oeter turns back and fills the kettle with water and places it on the stove.

"I must admit you do know how to cook." Jon sighs.

Peter chuckles. "You learn a lot on the sea and different parts of the world."

"Apperently." Jon huffed.

.......

Elias stepped into a quiet home, which wasn't abnormal per se. Even if Peter was here, he didn't make much noise unless they were together, but now there were kids here. Well, not kids, but adults trapped as kids, so he expected more noise. The graceful Beholder has blocked his view of the two kids, and he always had a hard time seeing Peter due to the Lonely, so he really had no idea what they truly were up to. So when he made his way into his perfect home, he expected a mess at least, but nothing seemed out of place.

Peter looked up from the couch. "Elias." He was flipping through a book Elias knew was about the sea. To the left, Jon was reading War and Peace, and to the right, Martin was curled up next to Peter with a book of poetry. "You look surprised."

"I simply expected a mess." Elias responds dryly and clicks his tongue. He noticed Jon have a smirk he knew exactly what their patron had been telling him. "Did you at least get them clothes, feed them?"

Peter rolls his eyes. "Yes, I fed the kids, and I got them new clothes. Next time, you take them to the bloody mall. Unlike you I have experience with children." He didn't elaborate why or how. It seemed to be something that Elias didn't even realize.

"Aren't you adults? What's with the toy?" Elias had that obnoxious smirk on his lips.

Jon glared the best her could at the man.

Martin huffs putting his book down. "Unlike you who seems to thrive off of stale crackers and loneliness more than Peter, we actually care about comfort."

Peter bites back a snickers at Elias's offered expression.

Jon giggles.

Elias sighs and pinches his brow. "Just get food tomorrow and make sure they are clean."

"They aren't pets." Peter blinks, realizing something. "You really have no experience with children, do you?"

"I have no use for experience with children Peter." Elias rolls his eyes.

"Let me enlighten you, Mr. Know-it-all. Martin and Jon are too small to clean themselves no matter how adult their minds are. They have the emotional and mental capacity of children, which means shorter attention spans, excess energy, and the need for naps along with the fact using any of our patrons power is even more of a strain on their tiny bodies. Even though Martin hasn't picked it, he will have to, and again, they are physically children they could just as easily kill themselves by accident."

Jon scowls but sighs with a nod. "I could clean myself up mostly on my own, but Martin is smaller than I am, so he would need help. Peter isn't exactly wrong about our physical and emotional limits either."

"I mean, I was 6 when my father left, so I ended up having to care for myself. I mean, I'm not 6 yet, but I'm close enough, so I already know what to do." Martin hums.

"Didn't your mother care for you?" Elias stares blankly at Martin.

"Nope, I was her caretaker for as long as I can recall." Martin blinks and is confused when Peter sits him in his lap. "I mean, it's not a big deal. Really, I only regret dropping out of school to care for her."

Jon curses under his breath. "Martin, are you ok?"

"What? Of course I am. I've got you, and we aren't dead, and we don't have to worry about the end of the world." Martin makes an odd noise of confusion when Peter wraps his arms around him.

"Alright, it's still early enough. Let's get some food for breakfast." Peter vanishes in fog holding Martin.

Jon looks at Elias with a raised brow. "I... hmm.... Isn't Peter part of the Lonely?"

"He is." Elias furrows his brows. "I've never seen him act like that. Although I only know his past before the full becoming of an avatar, then it's out of my reach."

Jon frowns. "I see."

The silence seems to stretch until Elias leaves to his bedroom, and Jon heads to his room.

......

"Why are we here?" Martin blinks in the florescent lights of the supermarket.

"You need something for yourself." Peter hums.

"I don't." Martin sits in the shopping cart watching the items pass him by.

Peter frowns. "How long have you've been on your own?"

"Isn't that what you want?" Martin looks up at the man with a bored expression.

"You're a child Martin, no matter how old mentally you are. How long have you been alone?" Peter had a look Martin couldn't describe in his eyes.

"I'm not alone anymore." Martin shrugs. He has never really seen the problem with it he had a shit life growing up, and he got over it, realized the abuse, and moved on. He never understood why Jon always made it a big thing. Now Peter was making a thing of it, and he didn't really want to stick to the subject.

"That's not the point." Peter sighs. "How about I tell you something Elias doesn't know, and in return, you pick out food you want."

Martin raised his brow. "I'll accept that."

"You know of my family." Peter pauses as Martin nods. "I had siblings none of them were really built for what mother planned for us. I ended up like this a favorite of our patron, but I wasn't always alone on my boat. I never had a wife, but I had a child, not mine, just a little stole away on my boat. I was barely 20. It does seem so distant now looking back. Well, my patron didn't like that small girl.... I've forgotten her name only lasted a few years before they were taken. The thing about being lonely isn't just being alone it's also having things you loved ripped away, leaving you isolated and even more so lashing out in anger refusing to even attempt another step out of line. Didn't stop me for long, probably how I stumbled upon Jonah. I knew my family was a big benefactor to the institute, but I never knew why until him." He sighs. "That's a lot of nonsense in there, but you get the point."

Martin looks away. He knew Peter was awful at explaining himself or anything that related to him. He also knew Peter was lying about the only one kid. He didn't really understand what Peter was trying to tell him, but he'll humor the man and nod. "I want... I want chocolate."

Peter hums and nods. "Ok, a chocolate." He knows that isn't something personal or significant, but it was a start. He can see himself in Martin, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

Martin frowns at the look Peter held. Maybe he could ask for something else, but he can only recall his mom looking at him with disgust, "You're too old for that." "I didn't raise you to be a retard burn that thing." "Be a man you disgrace" "Speak damnit you failure." "I didnt ask for a broken son." He shut his eyes and felt a tear slip. The wave of emotions finally crashed into him, and he started to cry, getting overwhelmed.

Peter dropped the bar of chocolate he picked out out of shock. Did he say something? Did he make a face? He rushed to the side and took Martin out of the cart. "Are you ok?"

Martin only cries harder, clinging to Peter like he was his lifeline.

There were eyes on them, and Peter hated the eyes. He vanished in a fog, quickly traversing the Lonely to a quiet park. Was the offer too much? Did his story make him cry?

Martin hiccups and clung to the man, burying his face into Peter's shoulders, overwhelmed and over stimulated.

After what feels like hours, the cries are quiet whimpers. Peter takes a breath and doesn't force Martin off of him. "Did I do something?"

Martin, unable to talk, shakes his head the best he can in his position. He takes a breath.

"Can you talk?" Peter pauses, feeling the boy shake his head. "Ok, that's fine. We don't have to talk."

The quiet looms over them as the sun dips below the horizon. A large plush crochet spider seems to appear next to them it was gray with black eyes.

Peter narrows his eyes at the toy disgusted that the Web was interfering. However, Martin also saw the plush and grabbed it and held it close to his small frame. "You want that?" He can feel the boy stiffen and shake lightly in his arms. "If you wanted a soft toy, we could have picked up one earlier. You did insist Jon got that cow." He felt Martin shift, and those blue eyes stared at him with an infinite amount of sadness in them. "I'm not telling you you can't have it, but it is from the Web.... however, I think I can let that slide since you seemed charmed."

Martin swallows he mouths a thank you, unable to make the sounds.

"Do you want to head back to get cleaned up?" Peter internally cringes at the sense of confusion at a choice the boy seemed to hold.

Martin holds up the spider in his hands as an answer.

"Yes, I already said that will come with you." Peter sighs. "Alright, you need to get cleaned up and head to bed."

Martin relaxed and clung to Peter as they went back to that house.

.......

Elias crossed his arms, staring at Peter. "I may not be well informed when it comes to children, but you shouldn't be bringing a five year old home after midnight."

Peter blinks. "I didn't realize it was that late." He adjusts Martin in his arms

Elias sighs. "Just take the boy to bed he can get cleaned in the morning."

Martin was awake, glaring at Elias and shaking his head.

Peter shrugs. "Bath first, and then I'll join you in bed, Elias."

Elias relents shoulders sagging. "Fine. Use our room's bath. There's a seat in a tub so he can sit comfortably. I assume you got him proper sleeping clothes."

"Yes, the boy got pajamas." Peter rolls his eyes and heads to their room. Elias follows behind him until they end up in the bathroom tub full of warm soapy water and a half asleep Martin in said tub.

"I may have underestimated how small the child is." Elias stares at Martin, who wasn't big enough for the seat in the bath, and Peter only filled the tub a quarter of the amount.

Peter hums. "So, Mr. Know-it-all has a blind spot, and that's kids."

"Shut up, Peter." Elias is kneeled next to the other man helping with keeping Martin upright since he looks ready to pass out. His sleeves rolled up incredibly high.

"Thanks for the help." Peter sighs. "He tired himself out."

"I wouldn't have to if you brought him home at a reasonable hour." Elias says with no real bite. "What did happen?"

"I don't actually know. Lad just broke down. The Web offered him a plush spider, and it seemed to calm him enough to stop crying."

Elias scowls at the memtion of the Web, but that crochet thing didn't even seem dangerous, and he could even use his powers to describe it as nothing more than string balled together. "Why didn't he grab one when you were out earlier?" He pauses seeing his partner shrug. "I see. Well, then I have my own research to do in the meantime."

Peter nods along. "He seems too skinny for a boy his age, doesn't he?"

Martin looks away, unable to force any noise out of his mouth as a protest to being looked at like this.

Elias studies Martin like he was under a microscope and pauses seemingly listening to something. "A child his age shouldn't be skinny he should still have a roundish body with hints of baby fat. Signs of neglect of a child are low body weight, emotional outbursts, and small stature." He blinks and takes a breath. "Don't."

"I'm not going to say anything." Peter didn't even crack a smile. "I don't wish to scrutinize him anymore." He pushes Elias away and pulls Martin out of the bath and in a warm green towel. "I'll put him to bed."

"I'll bring that.... spider to his room." Elias gets up, leaving the room holding that toy in his hands.

Martin sways on his feet from exhaustion, letting Peter dress him like a doll. He didn't make a sound as he was carried to a large bedroom and tucked into bed, and he definitely didn't see Elias tuck that spider under his arm as he drifted off.

......

(Nonverbal)

Jon blinks, looking around. His voice is quiet, and he pulls himself from his bed. "What?" He's used to random facts and looking at things he wants, and maybe smiting others, but not his Patron talking to him. He didn't think it was possible for them to have thoughts like humans. Maybe they did something more when they stopped the apocalypse. He would have to put a pin in that as he pulled his door open and made his way to the room next to his.

(Nonverbal)

Jon paused as he stared into the cracked open door to Martin's room. "What are you talking about?" He was quiet as he pulled the door open wider to spot Martin with a plush spider in his lap, obviously handmade since robots can't crochet. He was curled in a corner and pulled his blankets around him.

(Nonverbal)

Jon gave a frustrated sigh. "What are you trying to say?"

Martin looks up from his makeshift nest and has a look of fear in his eyes. He opens his mouth as if he is trying to speak, but nothing comes out but a breath.

(NONVERBAL)

Jon covered his ears, knowing the voice was in his head, so it was useless instinct. "I get it!" He shouts back and steps back as Martin shrinks away from him. "N-no, not you... I uh... Martin, can you speak?"

Martin shook his head and clutched the spider close to him. His eyes seemed to plead that he didn't want Jon to be mad at him.

Jon blinks, that was new he never thought Martin could ever do something like this... coming to think about it, he knows barely anything about his partner's past or his mental and physical health. Martin probably knew more about him than he did about him. "I didn't mean to yell." He slowly approaches as Martin trained his gaze on him. "Turns out the Eye can talk now."

Martin tilts his head.

(No more)

Jon stops and stays in place a few feet away from Martin. Ok, he was getting the hang of this. "I uh wow, this is weird." He made a split decision and sat down across from Martin. "I uh didn't know this could happen. I made a promise that I wouldn't look into your past or mind, and I will keep that. So this is new territory, and I don't know how to help."

Martin blinks clearly confused, and he places the spider down in his lap. He then looked frustrated and opened his mouth again, but no sound escaped.

(Scared)

"No." Jon stops, and a red blush creeps around his neck. "N-no Martin isn't scared he's just he's, uh..." He huffs. "This would be so much easier if you didn't give one word answers. You cryptic bastard."

Martin smiles and shakes in a silent laugh.

(Closer)

Jon takes that as an ok to slide himself closer to Martin, and Martin pulls him the rest of the way. "I uh ok. This is ok?"

Martin nods and holds Jon's hand.

(Jonah)

Jon pulls Martin close as Elias rushed in. Both kids stare at the man with wide eyes. He was in a tank top and boxers. His hair was a mess, and by the sound of heavy footsteps behind him, Peter was following. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath. "Jonathan, I expect you not to screech in my head at seven in the morning."

Martin shakes again in a silent laugh, noticing he trail of red marks all over Elias.

(Not proper for children)

Elias's eyes widen as he stares at Jon.

"I didn't say anything." Jon's voice was quiet but held a smirk to it.

Elias covers his face. He couldn't yell at his patron. Hell, he had no idea they could even talk besides dropping facts and sights in his head.

Peter finally came into the doorframe, confused as Elias was covering his face, and the red that tipped his ears was a dead giveaway that he was embarrassed. He could count on one hand how many times he has caught the other man in his multiple bodies embarrassed. "Elias, the children are fine. Why did you shove me out of bed and run off?"

"The Beholder speaks." Jon smirks. "The Beholder speaks, and they can't speak to one at a time."

Peter pauses, scratching his chin through his beard. "Oh, that's hilarious."

Elias huffs and turns to walk back to his room.

Jon chuckles softly.

Peter looks back to the two children. "Well, I'm up, and I'm not going back there while he's like this. How about some breakfast?"

Matin nods and gets up, holding his spider with one hand and Jon's hand in the other.

Jon follows behind. "Shouldn't you get dressed?"

"I have an apron." Peter hums in response. His soft, cheery voice did not match the man it belonged to in the slightest. Even as a man born into extreme wealth, his body was littered in scars, probably from his ship. He was chiseled like a god and had more body hair than either man realized.

Martin is more surprised he doesn't have a tattoo of an anchor but one of a lighthouse.

"I don't think that's sanitary." Jon makes a face.

"You'll be fine." Peter hums, grabbing an apron that says women fear me fish want me. "Besides, what do you want?"

Jon hums. "I want something sweet."

Martin shrugs.

"Ok, pancakes then." Peter hums and gets to work. He makes quick work of the batter and hums a sad melody or a sea shanty, Jon knew, but Martin didn't care to ask.

"You're of the Lonely." Jon states as a fact staring up at the larger man.

"I am, but you have questions." Peter hums. "Let's see how much more polite you are compared to Jonah."

Jon nods at the go-ahead. "Do you have to be alone?"

Peter chuckles. "I've never liked crowded spaces. It's not a requirement. You can be lonely and be in a group. Isolation isn't just physical. Unless you're my mother, and she'll have her own opinions as truth. I prefer to be alone, not just because I'm an avatar, but because it's easier to feed myself without overeating. That doesn't make much sense." He sighs. "Unlike your patron, the Beholder, I don't actively have to feast on someone's fear or statement or information. We're more like the Web than what Elias likes to claim. Crowds and cities like this breed a specific kind of isolation fear that well, it's a bit too filling in a sense, and it's constant and never goes away. On the sea I can pick and choose what I will have, I guess."

Jon didn't expect the answer. He hums. "But why the sea you can get the same thing from hiking or caving."

"Don't like the buried kid." Peter narrows his gaze before smiling again. "I like boats and I like the sea so that's why."

"Yes, yes, you're a sailor at heart." Elias interrupts. "I will be off to my archives don't burn the house down."

"I don't like fire." Peter raised his brow.

"I was not talking to you." Elias sighs. "Just keep them entertained, and you can tell me about your newest trip on the Tundra." Elias knew the man liked to talk about things he liked and sadly himself was not part of that.

Peter's grey washed-out eyes seemed to shine. "I'll hold you to that, Jonah."

Elias sighs and turns his attention back to the two kids. "And Peter, take them out today. We need food, and they need things to keep them entertained. I will not have them run around the archives unchecked."

Jon frowns. "I want to head to the archives."

"Whatever message you would like to send can be done at a later date nobody is in dire danger." Elias sighs.

(Wrong)

Jon locked eyes with Elias.

Elias sighs. "Get changed out of your pajamas, and you'll be away from Martin. I will not bring both of you."

Martin pauses and seems to realize something, and he nods frantically.

Peter raised his brow but doesn't ask.

Jon nods and leaves Martin's side rushing upstairs to get dressed.

(Gerrad has cancer and has never seen a doctor)

Elias blinks. "Huh, so young as well. That's a shame."

(Help him)

"That's what Jon will do." Elias hums.

Martin looks to Peter and points, which causes him to stop breakfast from burning.

"Thanks, lad, but I guess it's a you and me day today." Peter smiles. "Do you like boats?"

Martin shrugs.

Elias sighs. "Have a good time. I don't expect this will take all day."

(Bonding)

Elias can hear Jon groan from a top of the stairs.

.......

Martin didn't exactly know how they ended up at a book store, and by the look of it, neither did Peter. He found a boom on spiders he used to own before in the future he didn't really want to think about that, but he wanted it. He also found another book he tried to balance while also carrying his plush spider. He tripped in front of Peter.

Peter caught him before he hit the ground. "What did you find?" He grabbed one of the books and turned it over it was about the sea and sea creatures. "Did you get this for me?"

Martin nods quickly he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He looks annoyed but resigned.

"Don't force it." Peter ruffles Martin's hair. "Thanks for the book. I didn't think they made books about the stuff I like. Well, I mean, they probably do. I just I don't look, I guess." He watches the boy point to a section that was labeled deep sea science. "Well, I don't think Elias would mind if we bring home some books."

Martin holds up his book on spiders.

"You know what, how about you get a few more different types of that. I wager the Web and the Lonely want to share you." Peter chuckles, then pauses. Can someone be an avatar of two fears? Maybe he should probably ask.

Martin nods excited, running off to a different corner as Peter starts to pick out a large stack of books.

The cheery moment was interrupted by a man with a cheerful tone and the smell of ozone. "Well, if it's a shock to myself, Mr. Lukas, I didn't expect you to have a child, let alone be in public of all places."

Peter frowned, holding his bag of books. "Simon."

The elderly looking man with a nice cane chuckles. "Relax yourself. I'm merely here to talk to that little one of yours. The Vast seems especially interested in this little fellow." Simon chuckles, pulling out a piece of strawberry candy from his pocket.

Martin hid behind his plush spider.

"Oh ho a scary little spider, huh? Such a cute little boy." Simon hums. "Oh, the folly of youth, how's Jonah doing, er it's Elias now, right? I rather liked his previous body, but sickness isn't kind to anyone, even those of the Eye. I have been meaning to ask if it is odd being with him in different bodies?"

Peter sighs. "Simon, this isn't appropriate discussion in front of a child."

"Ah, right, where are my manners. I merely came by to check up on Elias, but I ended up here. Instead, distances are a tricky thing. It's nice to finally meet you Martin, oh you've got eyes on you and not just Jonah." Simon waves and vanishes in the smell of ozone and the feeling of vertigo.

Martin clutches onto Peter. His voice was quiet, but finally, sound came from his lips. "I don't like flying."

Peter chuckles. "Neither do I."

......

Martin blinks, staring at Elias and his, oh too expensive suit covered in stains and probably fresh blood. "Uh...."

Jon was equally a mess with a scowl on his lips. "Gerry went to the hospital and is getting treatment."

"Ok, but..." Martin tilts his head. "What happened?"

Jon covers his face. "It's a long story."

Elias takes a breath. "I'm getting Peter. Do not look for me." He leaves with a huff.

Martin opens his mouth before Jon shakes his head.

"Don't ask."

Martin shuts his mouth.

#the magnus archives #tma #elias bouchard #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #peter lukas #annabelle cane

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overlyimmersed · 2 years ago

Text

I'm still depressed so...

I'm not like...a great writer. Big narratives and long stuff kind get passed me, but I like to write little bits. Just moments that play out in my head and if I'm quick enough I can catch them and get them down. And by the time I think enough about it to realize I want to write it down, I've generally forgotten the beginning, or they didn't actually have a beginning and just started randomly, so I can't really...put it into a structured fic. Anyway I wrote these, I hope they're at least cute.

"Yeah, whatever!" Helbram calls back, as he hovers in the entrance to the willow tree hollow he shares with his family, the last word in a conversation with the friend he'd been playing with that afternoon. With that he turns his attention to the room inside, glancing around to see if anyone else is home. Her wings catch his attention first, as they often do, the bright magenta stands out against the browns and greens of the hollow. Plus, her back is to him so of course he'd see her wings first.

His partner, Maranwe, is standing in the little kitchenette type area of the room, in front of the stone stove. It looks like she's stirring something.

He smiles and flits over behind her, wraps his arms around her waist and kisses between her wings, causing them to flutter a little. He smirks against her skin and look up, knowing he'll see her looking over her shoulder at him.

And indeed she is, a small smile half obscured by her shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?" she asks, the amusement in her voice making the question rhetorical.

He grins and moves up to kiss her cheek. She accepts it before turning back to her task. He tightens his hold a little, drawing the two of them close so his chest is pressed between her wings, and he can look over her should to watch. The contents of the pot she's stirring is red and bubbling, a sweet smell wafting up from it.

"Smells good. What are you making?"

"Oh, I don't know." she sighs, "I'm just sort of experimenting. I think it's going to wind up being a syrup or something. I was going for something thicker, but it's kind of not working with me."

"Well I bet it'll taste good." there's a subtle eagerness to his tone that makes her chuckle. He likes when she experiments with cooking, and even if it doesn't turn out the way she wants, she'll probably come up with some clever and yummy way to use it. He just hopes he'll get some before the twins find it. ~*~ ---- ~*~

Helbram scoops Maranwe up into his arms and blows a raspberry against her neck, eliciting a string of shrieky giggles. He laughs with her, and as they settle down his gaze glides casually from her face down her body taking in little details. He can see most of her at once in this position, sort of scrunched up with one of his arms under her knees and other around her back, just below her wings -humans call it 'bridal style' if he remembers right. The glint of afternoon sunlight off the bell around her neck, her cute little skirt bunched up, showing more of her thighs. As he picks out details to admire, offenses become apparent too, little slashes of red and blotches of black and blue. Cuts, scrapes and bruises dot her legs and the one arm he can see, it's easy to assume the other looks the same.

"Scuffed yourself up today, huh?" he asks

"No more than usual." the tone is as simple as the answer, and he glances at her eyes. She isn't hiding anything or trying to downplay. His brow furrows a little and his eyes return to the limbs in his field of view, only now picking out the half faded scars and green bruises mixed among the fresher wounds. He's not surprised exactly, she's always been a little careless, a little clumsy. She flies so fast and so recklessly sometimes, and usually used collisions to stop. But he's annoyed with himself for never seeing the consequences. He spends so much time watching her, so much time touching her, so much attention so he won't overlook the emotional pain she's so prone to, how has he missed physical injuries?

"I'm fine." she says, drawing his attention back to her face. Impulsively his eyes search there for injuries as well, though they don't find any.

"You've gotta be more careful." he says, tipping his head to kiss a bruise on her forearm.

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #7ds #sds #nnt #7ds fanfiction #nnt fanfiction #7ds oc #nnt oc #7ds Helbram #nnt Helbram #writing #fanfiction #I'm feeling better today then I was yesterday #but still kinda...not great #I'm in a kind of mess and keep lying about it so i'm not really getting help #the closest I came to talking about it was tell my mother i'm home sick over text #it helped a little to admit that much at least

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year ago

Note

hi! i‘m not sure if you are still taking match up requests, but i read your HP works, and I REALLY hope that you do ahahaha

if so, could i request a romantic match up for HP (preferably, marauders era, but any, really). i go by she/her, and i am happy to be matched with a character of any gender. i am a short young woman, with short blonde wavy hair and bangs, i have heterochromia also.

i study history of art and architecture and also visual arts. i love architecture, interior and furniture design, urban planning, and such. i‘m a huge dramatic theater lover, and I act. i love dressing up - my style is kind of like if Paris and Berlin had a child on a budget and none of them had an eating disorder. i work in a museum, and i also volunteer in media and publications. so i love written words. i live reading a lot!! virginia wolf is my forever favorite. i love the colors green and blue. i am vegan, and i love sour green apples, coconut-milk curry with tofu, and oat-milk flat whites. i also obsess over anything that smells or tastes like cherries. i am a libra, infp. i paint my nails dark red pretty much at all times. i love dancing and generally moving my body a lot. i can walk all day and anywhere. i grew up with my mom, and she is the best. i also have a collection of tote bags, obviously😌 and that was my last bit of chaotic info splurge.

thank you so much!

Hello! Yes, I am still doing matchup! Thanks for requesting one! I hope you enjoy it! <33333 I went a bit crazy ;) (A Room Of One's Own is my fav!)

---

Harry Potter -

Marauders Era;

Remus Lupin:

🐾 You meet Remus when you were in Hogsmeade looking at some cute tote bags that a shop had for some reason, who wouldn't want a tote bag? You ended up buying three; turning to go purchase them, you almost ran right into Remus, who looked as surprised as you

🐾 It was pretty awkward, Remus apologizing and then you insisting that it was fine, nothing broken right? But after the initial embarrassment and shyness, you asked if Remus would like to join you for a drink before heading back to the school; you didn't really realize you had asked him that until after, startling you slightly, but Remus agreed and you both went to a cute place to eat

🐾 You had ordered a Shirley Temple, mentally obsessing about the cherry flavoring before you and Remus got to know each other a bit, from classes, to favorite subjects; both of you felt like you had a connection, some sort of electricity that coursed through both of your bodies and into your souls

🐾 From then on, you and Remus hung out a lot when you both could, sometimes the other Marauders joined, sometimes, (most of the time), teasing Remus about his obvious crush on you; Sirius mostly teased you, (James was smart enough not to since you were friends with Lily), but Sirius would always either nudge you or wiggle his eyebrows when you were near Remus

🐾 Finally, finally, Remus asked you to the Yule Ball, which led to your first kiss, which led to becoming a couple for the next three years and even after Hogwarts; Remus greatly admired you, finding you the most beautiful woman he has ever met, from your intelligence to your love of architecture, (not to mention, you are incredibly understanding and always made sure he was alright), you are his soulmate

---

Lightning Era;

Draco Malfoy:

🍏 You met Draco, (you've heard about him around school, but never had really seen him surprisingly), but you had recently become friends with Harry, Hermione, and Ron and with being friends with them, you'd have to face the wrath of the Draco Malfoy; and boy or boy did you think he was exactly what your friends had told you he was like, (rude, entitled, cute, cunning, etc.)

🍏 Now you were at an impasse with your heart and your brain, you hated that you thought Draco was cute and you hated how much of a git he was, your thoughts were all over the place; but nothing ever really happened, besides Draco being a little ferret jerk, until the last two years of Hogwarts

🍏 You had been wandering the school, reading a book by Virginia Woolf, when you heard crying... Odd... Ignoring your instincts, you decided to see if you could find this obviously upset person and help them; surprisingly, it was Draco, and in the beginning Draco didn't want or need your help, sympathy, or pity, (in Draco's words)

🍏 Though, somehow, Draco did let down his red brick walls and let you in, and it did help him a lot, you were understanding, you never judged him, and you didn't run away when he told you what good ol' Voldy wanted him to do; when you could, you'd find Draco and spend as much time as you could with him, whether that being studying, eating sour green apples, or just talking... (you both were getting pretty close)

🍏 At the battle, you stood beside Draco, holding his hand tight as his mother called to him, your hand tightened, worried he'd leave and go to the other side, but he stayed; you and Draco's connection was a deep one, you both understood each other and were there for each other, through thick and thin

---

#cute #fluff #slight angst #request #requests open #matchups #matchup #harry potter #harry potter fandom #marauders #marauders era #harry potter marauders #lightning era #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader

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trashyswitch · 2 years ago

Text

Why is Patton Talyn? And Other Questions.

Palyn comes back! And...leaves Janus and Remus really confused. Janus is interested and calm, while Remus is disappointed...then way too curious.

Part 3 of Patton, The Cute Little Puppy Baby Bat Fly Fly Baby Dog(s).

Part 2

This fanfic has a slightly rude, slightly transphobic question in it from Remus. So I'm sorry if he triggers you, and know that he got what he deserved.

Palyn looked in the mirror at the Harry Potter glasses, and the Argyle green, black and white sweater vest. They had a white collared shirt underneath, and looked at themself in the mirror. It looked…really good on them. Though the outfit looked like something a 50 year old bigger man would wear, it seemed to really suit Talyn’s facial features and body shape. They also loved it because it also highlighted Patton’s comfy, fatherly outfits. Palyn was impressed by their ability to pull these two types of styles together into one outfit.

“Hey Patton, have-” Janus paused his words as he saw some other person in the room. It…strangely looked like Thomas’s friend, Talyn. But…this was Patton’s mind palace bedroom. No one can go into a mind palace bedroom unless they’re a side.

“...Can I help you?” Janus asked.

Palyn looked at Janus and widened their eyes as they saw Janus. “Oh! Sorry Janus…I was trying something on.” Palyn admitted. Palyn’s voice sounded exactly like Patton’s voice…but…the person had the face and body shape of Talyn.

“P-Patton?” Janus asked.

Palyn chuckled awkwardly scratched the back of their head. “Nnno. I’m Palyn.” They told him.

“Palyn? Is…That a mixture of the names Talyn and Patton?” Janus asked.

Palyn nodded. “Yeah…it is.” Palyn admitted.

Janus hummed, unsure what to think. He looked at Palyn from the top of their head to the tops of their feet. He…wasn’t sure how to react to Palyn without sounding unsupportive or rude.

“Can you get Logan for me?” Palyn asked.

Janus shook his head with a smile as he walked away. Janus turned to the right, then to the left…he soon reached Logan’s room and knocked on the door. “Logan?” Janus called.

Logan opened the door and nodded to him. “Good afternoon, Janus. Can I help you?” Logan asked.

Janus nodded and looked towards the direction of Patton’s room. “Patton has turned himself into Talyn…and he’s going by the name Palyn?” Janus told him.

Logan widened his eyes and sprinted out of the room and past Janus into the hallway. “Palyn.” Logan said in a firm, monotone voice. “Palyn?!” Logan called.

“Right here, Logan!” Palyn called back.

Logan sprinted into Patton’s name and picked up Palyn, spinning them around in circles. Palyn giggled and hugged Logan back. “Hiii Logan!” Palyn greeted.

Janus walked up to Patton’s room and leaned against the doorframe. “You…know him?” Janus asked.

“Them.” Logan replied. “When Patton is Palyn, their pronouns change to they/them.” Logan told Janus.

Janus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh…” Janus reacted. “Well…When was I going to meet this ‘Palyn’ character?” Janus asked.

Logan looked at Janus. “I was going to introduce you and Remus to Palyn the next time Palyn comes out. I was simply waiting for Patton to get into the mood.” Logan explained.

“Is…Is Palyn…” Janus thought for a moment and looked over at Logan. “Is Palyn considered a version of littlespace?” Janus asked.

Logan opened his mouth to speak…and closed it when he realized he had no words. Logan looked at Palyn, not sure what to say. On one hand, he can understand why Janus came to that conclusion. Palyn was smaller, and acting a little more childish than normal. So it could easily be littlespace. But if it were littlespace, then why is Patton changing himself to look like Thomas’s friends instead of being himself? And if it was littlespace, then why is Palyn dressed in something a 60 year old father/grandfather would wear?

“I can see why you came to that conclusion.” Logan admitted. “It makes a bit of sense.”

“But it’s not littlespace.” Palyn added. “It’s more…wanting to be shorter, cuter-looking, and being more okay with…being…childish…” Palyn’s words slowly dragged on as they realized what they were basically describing: Littlespace. “But-but it’s not trauma-based. I did not experience anything traumatic, and it did not encourage me to do this. I just like turning into Thomas’s friends, and Talyn happens to be my favorite person to turn into.” Palyn explained.

Janus nodded, looking down. “I see…” Janus then looked up at Palyn. “Would you like me to get Remus, so he can meet you as well?” Janus asked.

Palyn nodded. “Sure. I would like that.” Palyn replied.

Janus turned around and headed to Remus’s room on the other side of the mindpalace. Janus knocked on the door, and waited for Remus to answer. While he waited, he took a moment to adjust his shawl cover and fix his shirt collar.

Remus opened the door and squealed. “Well look who decided to drop in?” Remus teased, making a black hole below Janus. Janus looked down at the hole, and grew somewhat surprised that he didn’t fall into the black hole at all. He just stood on the black hole like it was a glass floor.

“I have someone you might want to meet.” Janus told him.

“Me?” Remus asked. “Is it…human? Or alien?” Remus asked. “Dangerous? Or harmless?” Remus asked next.

“Human. And…quite harmless.” Janus replied.

Remus’s excitement grew flat. “Oh…Well that’s not exciting!” Remus whined.

Janus rolled his eyes and grabbed Remus’s hand. “Just come with me.” Janus told him.

Janus and Remus walked to Patton’s bedroom, and began to hear muffled sounds coming from the bedroom. Remus tilted his head as he walked up to the open room with Janus, where they discovered Logan skittering his fingers on Patton’s lower ribs. Palyn was covering their mouth, and laughing up a storm.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I already know Talyn.” Remus told Janus. Then, Remus widened his eyes as he remembered something: Talyn is not a sanders side. Talyn is a real human. “Wait…How is Talyn in the-” Remus looked at Janus with pure confusion. “This is not Talyn. This is Patton, disguising himself as Talyn.” Janus told Remus.

“Oh…” Remus began to fully understand the more he connected the dots. The body looked exactly like Talyn. But, the voice was clearly Patton’s. With that explanation, it made so much more sense. But…then Remus frowned. “Well now that it makes more sense, it kinda ruins the mystery.” Remus admitted.

“When Patton wants to be Talyn, he refers to himself as Palyn and goes by they/them pronouns.” Janus explained.

Remus gasped and covered his mouth. He uncovered his mouth with a big smile. “Age regression? Littlespace?” Remus asked. “PLEASE tell me it’s little space.”

Janus shook his head. “It’s not.” Janus replied. “Just preference.” Janus added.

Remus’s excitement dwindled into disappointment in mere seconds. “Oh…” He mumbled, slightly irritated by the mere normalcy.

Janus rolled his eyes and looked at Remus with his arms crossed. “So do you want to meet Palyn or not?” Janus asked.

Remus sighed and walked up to Palyn, unsure what to do. Patton was giggling and laughing, still being tickled by Logan’s fingers.

“Hello Remus. Care to help me tickle Palyn?” Logan asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You…want me…to help tickle Pat-Palyn?” Remus asked, correcting himself.

“I don’t know. Would you like Remus to tickle you, Palyn?” Logan asked.

All Palyn could do was laugh at this point. So, they uncovered their mouth and nodded their head.

“There’s your answer. Join in wherever you like.” Logan offered.

Remus’s face softened as he grew surprised. Of all the people wanting tickles from Remus, it was Patton? Sorry, Palyn?

Remus slowly walked up to Palyn’s armpits and started skritching and scratching there. “Hi Palyn! I’m Remus!” Remus told them.

“Ihihi knohohow whoho yohou ahahahare.” Palyn told him. “Ihihihi stihihill rehemember yohohou.” Palyn told him.

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Really?!” Remus reacted. Now he was even more surprised.

Logan nodded. “Palyn still has all of Patton’s memories. Patton just has the physical body of Thomas’s friend.” Logan explained.

Remus nodded, still flabbergasted. “But…This is still Patton. I thought I would be the last person Patton would want to tickle him.” Remus admitted.

“Ihihihi dohohon’t cahahare whoho tihickles mehehehe, ahas long ahas thehehey’re sohoft ahahabout ihihit.” Palyn told him.

Remus smiled eagerly. “Okay! But be careful what you wish for. Because soft tickles can drive you crazy too.” Remus reminded him.

Logan chuckled. “He does have a point, Palyn.” Logan added.

Patton squealed as he felt Remus quickly nibble against his neck. “EhehehEHEHEHEHE! WAHAHAHAHAIT! HAHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAHAHA!” Patton laughed loudly.

“Om-nom-nom-nom-nom! Om-nom-nom-nom-nom-nom!” Remus made nibbling noises as he playfully nibbled on Palyn’s neck.

Palyn couldn’t curl their neck in to get Remus out of their poor neck. Logan was smiling as he watched Palyn and Remus, who were complete opposite beings, get along with each other. It was really nice to see for a change.

“THEHEHE NIHIHIBBLEHES AHAHARE SOHOHO TIHICKLIHIHIHISH!” Palyn laughed.

“Om-nom-nom-nom! I bet they are! Om-nom-nom-nom-nom-nom!” Remus teased as he continued to nibble on Palyn’s neck.

Palyn kept on giggling and laughing as both Logan and Remus tickled him at the same time.

“JAHAHANUHUS! HEHEHEHEHEHELP!” Palyn begged.

“And leave you lacking in tickles? No way.” Janus replied.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE?” Palyn asked.

“Please what? Please tickle you? Are two people really not enough? You really want someone else to tickle you?” Janus reacted.

Palyn shook his head. “NOHOHOHO!” Palyn replied.

“Okay. You’re starting to sound like me.” Janus added as he walked up to Palyn. “Now what to tickle…”

Palyn squealed and pulled his feet back, hoping and praying Janus wouldn’t go for them. But that only encouraged Janus. “I think I’m gonna go for the feet.” Janus told them.

“NOHOHO DOHOHOHON’T!” Palyn pleaded.

“You are REALLY sounding like me now.” Janus reacted, poking his foot with a smirk.

“Shuhuhush! AHAA!” Palyn guffawed at the poke.

“Whoa! What a scream!” Janus reacted.

“What a shout!” Remus added.

“The rhyming I could do without.” Logan muttered out loud.

Remus and Janus stopped tickling for a moment and looked at each other, confused by Logan’s ironic ending statement.

Palyn happily took this time to breathe some much needed air into their lungs again. It was so comforting to have full breaths of air in their poor lungs. As much as they liked being tickled, it was still exhausting.

Palyn looked up at the three sides, and smiled. “Thank you for being so understanding.” Palyn told them.

Janus shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve all experienced an identity crisis before.” Janus replied.

Logan smiled. “Glad we can be of service.”

“If you’re Talyn right now, does that mean you have a vagina?” Remus asked out of nowhere.

Logan looked at Remus with utter shock, while Janus sent Remus a strong glare.

Palyn sighed and walked up to Remus. “I am going to give you one chance to take back your question.” Palyn told him.

“No way! I’m genuinely curious. Since Talyn is technically-” Remus froze, he felt the force of a show hit smack dab onto his crotch. “aaAAH! OWWWWIEEEEE!!” Remus screamed, doubling over, holding his crotch as he fell onto the ground.

“Now think about that pain before you reject another one of my generous offers.” Palyn suggested.

Palyn crossed their arms and turned to face Logan and Janus with a big, smug grin. Logan was originally shocked…but after seeing innocent Palyn’s morbid actions, Logan was left absolutely dumbfounded.

Meanwhile Janus was cackling and laughing so hard at Remus’s pain. He was laughing so hard, he had even started snorting! “THAHAHAT, WAHAS AWESOME! THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, YOU DUMBASS!” Janus shouted.

Palyn took one look at Janus and giggled. “You don’t even need to tickle Janus to make him laugh.” Palyn mentioned.

#patton becomes palyn #tiny palyn #janus meets palyn #remus meets palyn #ticklefic #ler!remus #ler!logan #ler!janus #lee!palyn #fluff

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years ago

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One plus One for the WIP game PLEASEEEEE!!!

Hi, my love! Thanks so much for this one! I’m excited to share some of my Virgin — bestie Eds! ;)

This is a little more than a snippet, so pardon me!

~*~

“Blah, blah, blah.” Eddie surprises you with the cut off, flinging his chewed up pencil behind him. You’re positive it lands in one of his Uncle’s newest mugs on the wall. Maybe behind their couch…

You roll your eyes and close your textbook, forgoing any more talk of Ms. O’Donnell’s book report and how it affects today's youth. Eddie had enough experience with what did and did not affect young adults (himself included) these days. And though you agree about another meaningless prompt for a lousy two percent of your grade, you’re well aware that Eddie needs every percentage he can get. Stretching your legs out, you toss your textbook on top of your messenger bag, rolling your body back into a stretch. Eddie catches your wrists and tugs, helping your muscles release the tension they’ve been holding.

You close your eyes and inhale sharply, his fingertips tickling your palms, relaxing and comforting.

“You wanna go to my room and I’ll spin that new record you got me last week, sweetheart? We can get out of these clothes, put on shit that stretches, and just chill until the food gets here?”

You don’t mean to clench your thighs at another one of Eddie’s-oblivious-to-what-he’s-doing-to-you statements, but it happens like the new reflex it’s become. Luckily for you, he stays in the state of oblivion, giving you time to find a response. “Uhm, we didn’t exactly order anything, dingbat.”

He grins cheekily, fingers sliding across your own and up your arms, landing on your shoulders, splaying a little over your neck. It stimulates your body into a line of goosebumps, making you shiver. Eddie makes a warming motion over you and that’s when you let a verbal groan fly free. It’s your turn in the land of the unknown, not noticing how he shifts or the widening of his chocolate eyes. He really likes that noise.

“Eds?” You’re tapping his knee, the threads in these jeans not yet torn enough to resemble his usual black denim.

“Mhm? Oh, I zoned out for a second, sorry.” You’re laughing, but endeared, envious that you can’t see inside that cute little head of his. You’re damned sure Eddie’s mind is the epitome of galaxies that could bring world peace, that is, after it wreaks the best havoc mankind will ever experience.

You catch yourself before you take a trip down daydream lane. “Okay, so when did you order food, because it should’ve been here by now since you obviously phoned in for it before I got here?”

“Well, I didn’t order it myself, per say…” As if on some comic cue, there’s a rasp on the aluminum storm door of Eddie’s trailer.

You both stand, Eddie leading you towards the hallway instead, stopping short. “Might’ve had Gareth pick up some burgers and cokes for us. He owes me.”

“Not another one of those weird ass bets you do when the other party loses a game.” You snort, but shake your head, Eddie not letting go of you yet, clinging to your wrist with faux drama.

“Listen, that little shit has it coming for what he did last week. You got food outta this, so are you really going to complain, or go and change?”

“You’re fucking lucky that your eyes resemble a newborn farm animal, dude.” You snark.

Eddie jabs his pointer fingers in a motioned direction towards his eyes, gasping dramatically. “These?”

You snort and make the short journey to his room, almost ready to turn back around after you’ve closed the door, because what the fuck are you changing into? That’s when you spot your green flannel pajama pants folded neatly on top of Eddie’s laundry hamper, and a shirt that’s not exactly his style directly adjacent to it, folded, yet stuffed in the side of the basket.

WIP Game

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #asks #corrodedcorpses

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bumpscosity · 2 months ago

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Furby 2023 review/first impressions! MAN these guys are cute, they're still a tad annoying like the connects/booms (i really wish their voices were different) but they have so much spunk and charm! it was nice to have a bit of a tutorial at the beginning since i got mine secondhand and didn't have a manual lol.

This ended up being a pretty lengthy review so i put it under a read more ⬇️

They're smaller than i thought (a tad smaller than '98s) but i love how round they are, still don't like that their mouths don't move but i love the LED ears, the fur is very similar to owl 98 furbies but maybe a bit shorter, super soft and easy to brush! the head tuft texture is near identical to 98s too. these ones don't have tails either which i think was a great style choice since i always thought they looked weird on the other modern models. the ears are all plastic but the feet and eyelids have some kind of thick rubber coating? i'm not really sure how to describe it but i think it's an alright choice, totally gonna start deteriorating in 5-10 years tho LMAO. forehead sensors haven't been actual sensors for the past few furby models and this time it's what they call the "forehead gem", and is the button you use for voice activation, i think it's cute :)

like i said before the initial experience of a factory reset 2023 furby is really great. You immediately get a feel for exactly what this toys gonna be like and how to use it. i love that voice commands are back but the selection feels a bit limited. also the way you activate it is weird to me, you press the forehead gem and wait for the ears to glow white, then say "hey furby" and wait for the ears to glow green, and then say the command. i get that Hey Furby is a reference to 2005 furbies but i feel like they could've either cut out the button press or cut out the Hey Furby?

the voice commands they DO have are pretty fun, ones a music option where they sing (i haven't heard all the songs yet but the ones i have heard are... what you'd expect) one that's a magic 8 ball/fortune teller (fun little game to play), one that essentially turns your furby into talking tom (as an ex-11 year old this is perfect for the demographic they're going for), one that's like meditation and breathing exercises (i think it's kind of a weird inclusion but it's nice that this gen isn't just screaming all the time like a lot of the other modern gens do), and a "light show" where they sit still and their ears glow different colors (SUPER cute and great to have on your desk while you're doing other stuff)

there's a couple hidden commands too but my favorite by far is "selfie" where they'll strike a pose for a couple seconds, that's how i got the above image and i actually think it's a really great way to bring them into the modern era, i love taking pictures of my furbies but it can be a pain in the ass to get them in a cute pose.

this is a weird little nitpick but i would've really appreciated a mode where furby dances to your music! i think this would've been a really fun feature for the modern era and great nostalgia for all us mid-early 2000s kids who grew up with i-dogs (and funky furbies!). i also would've loved a feature to change furbys name? if we're gonna have to say "hey furby" every time we say a command i want to say the name i gave them, i think you can already do this with things like siri so i can't imagine it's too complex to add, maybe this is harder to program in than i think it is but little touches like that would bring even more life into these lively little creatures.

a big plus is that 2023 furby has a way to turn them off, you'd think that would be standard for them but i think the last time they had a true off mode was in 2005 so hooray for bare minimums. Their voices are loud but in my opinion not too loud, close to the volume of 2012s? i still wish you could turn it down/up, seems like a no-brainer thing to add.

as far as physical functionality their eyes blink, and they have head/tummy sensors. all work great but they also have a mouth button that won't do anything on mine? i used it to factory reset so i know it WORKS but i don't know if it's supposed to do anything other than that lol. i miss having a back sensor, belly pets are cute but id love even more interactivity. they also have a motion sensor like the other gens but i think it only detects up and down and not motion? i know 2012s/booms will react if you're moving them but i couldn't get my 2023 to say anything particular about it. i really really appreciate that if you shake them the right way you can change their default ear light color, that level of customizability is really cute and should what every pet toy strives for.

I've never been a fan of non-cloth feet on furbies but i think they really work here! a nitpick i've always had with connects is they have these weird looking half clear plastic feet that looked like they should light up or something but they don't do anything. on the 2023s they have little motors so they can bounce up and down, which is one of my favorite features of other furby models! i think full body movement really brings a lot of emotion and personality to furbies and im really happy that's back after being absent from connects!

the fact that the mouth doesn't move is really really stupid for a toy that retails at a whopping 40-60 bucks, like i said for that price range a back sensor would've been nice too. commands are limited but the ones that are there are good to just have as a desktop buddy.

what really bugs me is that hasbro saw ppl saying "the furby 2012/connect apps suck" and instead of making better apps just decided NO app was a better option. there's ways to make good toy/app integrations! i think they should've tried it one more time instead of nixing it all together. at the very least i wish they had wifi for updates, if i knew there could be more features added down the line i would be a lot more lenient on the lack of commands but as it stands this is all 2023 furbies will ever be which is really sad.

Overall though i really love these new furbies! i don't know if i would've liked them as much if i spent full price but i think at the very least they're a step in the right direction for the furby brand and im SUPER excited to see where it goes next.

#sassy speaks #furby #allfurby #safefurby #sorry this is so long LOL i start writing reviews for products and i find it hard to stop #tldr i like em! especially for the 5 bucks i spent on mine LOL #her name is O'ahu btw :)#i went back and forth on fruit punch and hawaiian punch and then O'ahu hit my brain and that was it #i really though i'd hate this color combo more but it's growing on me #i wanna get another one and see what type of stuff they talk about.... i'm not spending full price tho LMAO #i DO miss the range of movement furby 2012s and booms had those things would really shake around #but the up and down movements mixed with the war movement really brings 2023s to life :)#*ear #if there's any spelling mistakes no there aren't. i'm not proofreading all that

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abrthephantomq · 1 year ago

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IZ - "Little Green Men" - WIP

Ah yes, after nearly two decades I am back on my Invader Zim bullshit.

This's kind of a love letter to a bunch of the Invader Zim AUs I've read in the last few years. The IZ fandom is small but mighty and I love every single one of you <3

Essentially, after the events of Enter the Florpus, Zim left Earth to go "rescue" his Tallests from their imminent destruction.

On this "mission" of his, he runs into the Resisty. Where he's recognized as being y'know, the one responsible for the Tallests entering the Florpus in the first place, and therefore destroying a large part of the Irken Armada. He is a hero and they give him all the praise and accolades he's always been wanting.

Just one problem:

He'd already rescued the Tallests, knows they're safe, and now has to destroy them again before the Massive rejoins the rest of the Irken Armada.

Or at least, that's kinda the vision I have for this particular part of the story. I write out of order when I'm drafting sooo... started with this, earlier today:

Dib didn’t really understand what, exactly, he’d done to deserve this – but honestly, he damn well knew he didn’t deserve any of it.

As it was, he sat at the end of his bed, in his fucking boxers, his scythe-like hair drooping in front of his eyes. He’d just gotten himself out of the shower. And found himself standing eye to eye with a familiar pair of magenta eyes.

“What do you want, Zim?” Dib asked, standing up and ignoring just how much shorter Zim was than him, now, as he moved to his dresser.

“Eh?? How’d you know it was me?!”

Dib didn’t bother hiding his eye roll and gestured to Zim’s face. “You forgot your human eye contacts,” he said, slipping into a black pair of thin, ripped jeans.

“No I didn’t,” Zim said, pointing an accusatory finger in Dib’s direction. “You lie! You lieeee!”

With a heavy, beleaguered sigh, Dib pulled his Neutral Face shirt on over his head. He smoothed it down, making note that he needed to start eating again, damnit – as his shirt now seemed to hang off his frame like a shirt on a hanger.

Now properly dressed, Dib turned around to face Zim and leaned his hip back against his dresser. He folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at Zim.

It’d been a few years since they’d last seen each other. The whole Florpus incident had left an odd, bitter taste in Dib’s mouth. And Zim…

Well, Zim had supposedly returned back to Irk – to prove his worth and show his loyalty to his Tallests. Or something. Dib tried arguing with him that it was pointless – that they clearly didn’t care about him.

Whatever. It didn’t matter. Zim does what Zim wants, and nothing can stop him. Ever.

“Is this the way you greet your greatest enemy?” Zim bellowed in that way that Dib always thought meant Zim was genuinely angry. Now, he knew better. It was bravado. Bait. Part of the song and dance they’d done when Dib was a child and Zim –

Well, he was an adult Irken, wasn’t he? He’d implied being much, much older than Dib himself. Even if he did act like a ridiculous fifth grader right along with Dib.

“I have work in an hour,” Dib said with a shrug. “And let me tell you, I greet it with even less enthusiasm than I did you, just now.”

Zim stared at him, the magenta of his natural, bug-like eyes unblinking. His human disguise had actually improved, aside from the missing contacts – the eyes were at least closer to human-shaped. His hair was still styled in a weird, slicked back poof, but it looked far more natural and less plastic. Even his skin was the right color – a rich, dark brown that could easily pass for human.

Oh, and he had a nose.

A cute, round nose that Dib felt the inexplicable urge to boop.

So he did. The way Zim spluttered at the action pulled a low, deep chuckle from his chest. “Seriously, Zim. Why are you here?” he asked, his lips settling into a smirk. “You couldn’t have possibly missed this ball of dirt that much.”

“Of course not! There are millions of balls of dirt out there just like this one.”

#invader zim #dib membrane #zim #fanfiction #work in progress

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miekasa · 3 years ago

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Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it.

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby.

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad.

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on.

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying.

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside.

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place.

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone).

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way.

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for.

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch.

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés.

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this.

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it.

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well.

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program.

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do.

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk.

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes.

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to.

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye).

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester.

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other.

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand.

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right.

#anonymous #when.... when.... WHEN IS IT MY TURN #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot imagines #no because he's the love of my whole life #jean fluff #jean smut #eren x reader

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

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Could you do a blurb of mlb!Harry and y/n doing an interview with a magazine and they talk about how they met, how he decided he wanted to play baseball professionally, being a father and mother and winning the championship

thought this was a cute idea

okay! ive gotten a ton of requests. im going to do it in an article format.

It’s for Times Magazine - he’s over the cover - with the title - A Legend Among Us.

Tom is the interviewer

—

Harry had welcomed me up to his house for the interview. A beautiful sprawling mansion nestled in the woods near a lake in New York - right outside the city where he played.

As soon as I walked in, the house was warm and felt like a well-lived in house. The baseball player had apologized for the small littering of dump trucks, barbies, and blocks that were left behind.

We sat down outside on the patio, it was cool, and Harry was dressed in a Yankees hoodie and Nike shorts - sponsored by them of course.

Harry was actually Nike’s biggest money making sponsor due to his merchandise and memorabilia with the company.

I could tell Harry was relaxed, a carefree smile on his face opposed to the scowl he had when he was on the mound.

There were toys scattered on their pristine green grass, a massive pool, jungle gym, and sandpit - a child’s dream.

Harry cracked a joke that the landscapers hate cutting their grass because of all the toys in the way.

Tom: Mr. Styles - a pleasure to sit down with you. I’m a bit starstruck if I’m honest.

Harry: [laughs] it’s no problem. Thanks for agreeing to come up here.

Tom: It’s a beautiful piece of property.

Harry: Yeah, I love it. My wife picked this house out and she has way better taste than me. She did good.

Tom: Let’s talk about her. How long have you been together?

A soft look appears on Styles face as soon as he starts speaking about her.

Harry: We’ve been together ten years, married for eight now - just celebrated our anniversary a month ago.

Tom: That’s impressive, especially for a sport man like yourself.

I realize that what I had said hadn’t sat right with the baseball player. His tone comes back much sharper with me.

Harry: I don’t need to be rewarded or praised because I’ve stayed loyal to my wife. Just because of my job doesn’t make me a scumbag.

Tom: I apologize. It’s just that you constantly have beautiful women chasing after you.

Harry: Okay? Have you seen the woman I’m married to? She’s fucking gorgeous. There’s a reason we have four kids, can’t keep my hands off her.

Tom: Four kids - three boys and a girl, right? Tell us their names and ages, maybe something about them, if you would.

Harry: Our oldest is Easton, he is six and a half, and is definitely is a little leader. He doesn’t take shit from anyone and bosses all his siblings around. He’s the most like me.

Tom: Is that good or bad?

Harry: [laughs] If you ask me, I’d say good. If you ask my wife, she would say no.

Tom: Then Cash?

Harry: Yeah, he’s four. He’s the comedian. He is such a free spirit, easy-going, and always being silly. He craves attention and always gets it.

Tom: He sounds like a good time.

Harry: He is. Then Ezra who is two and just a sweetheart. He’s sensitive, very caring, but also nervous like none of my other kids are.

Tom: Does that make it harder for you?

Harry: Not at all. I’m just really protective of him.

Tom: That doesn’t surprise me.

Harry: Then we have Briar. Our little girl, she’s about three months old right now. We’re still getting to know her but she is a carbon copy of her mama.

Tom: Interesting. All your boys look exactly like you.

Harry: It was amazing to see those boys come out looking like me. I am man enough to admit I sobbed when I saw how gorgeous she was like her mother.

Tom: Wrapped around your finger, huh?

Harry: Just like her mama. Completely whipped for them.

Tom: What’s the secret that you’re hiding for such a happy marriage?

Harry appears thoughtful for a moment, reaching to take a swig of his protein drink as I take the opportunity to sip the expensive tasting sparkling water he’d offered me.

Harry: She is always making me work for it. In the best way possible. I mean I’m constantly chasing after her. She still plays hard to get like she did before we started dating.

Tom: I think most people would assume it was the other way around.

Harry: YN is the best fucking wife. I mean incredible, honestly. She’s the best mama to our babies. It would be impossible for me to not being head of heels for her.

Tom: What’s it like being a father?

Harry: [laughs] It’s the best. I thought baseball was the best job out there but it isn’t. I love being a dad. I would have a full baseball team if the missus would let me.

Tom: I mean baseball is a pretty good gig, right? You are the highest-paid player in history. You have also broken a massive amount of records that people thought were impossible to beat.

Harry: [his smile becomes a bit cocky as he shrugs] As much as it will make people mad, it comes easy to me but I also work hard because I want to set a good example for my children.

*interview continues about baseball for a bit*

In the middle of a question about his favorite teams growing up, we are interrupted by their patio door opening and a child who looks exactly like Harry toddles over.

It had to be Ezra as Harry had told me the other two were at school. The two-year-old had obviously escaped his mother’s grasp as she is hurriedly rushing out after him.

YN apologizes with a exasperated laugh, a fresh baby tucked in a sling around her chest. Ezra gives me a unsure look before he’s crawling up his father until he’s settled in his lap.

Harry forgets the question, distracted as he helps his son get comfortable in his arms, and a hand coming to rub the boys back.

He is assuring his wife that Ezra is okay, motioning them over to give her a kiss before doing the same to his daughter’s forehead.

Harry: It’s about nap time for this one. [Harry nods down to his son who’s nuzzling into his chest]

I was hoping to get more from the baseball player but as soon as Ezra requests that his dad takes him for a nap - Harry is soothing and agreeing with his son.

He is soft with his son, voice turning into a hum that is vastly different from the rough rasp on the field as he curses out refs.

It was overall a great experience, to get a look into the life of Harry Styles. I was walked out with Harry toting a sleepy toddler on his hip.

I got in my car, observing the Porsche, Escalade, Range Rover, and Lamborghini truck that is a reminder of just how rich this man was.

And I can’t say I’ll ever forget interviewing the most talented sport player that we will ever see in our time and much more time to come.

#mlb!harry blurbs #mlbrry #mlb!harry

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bugsonthemind · 1 year ago

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okay i'm exactly normal enough about bugs to do this. lets give parahumans arthropodsonas.

taylor: taylor is always a dictyopteran, but what kind varies throughout her career. at first she's a roach - american cockroach (Periplaneta americana) probably if we want to be specific. she's drab colored, extremely hardy and adaptable and hated by the people in power. she's also sociable but only in smaller groups (i.e. the undersiders). then as weaver, she's an orchid mantis (Hymenoptus coronatus), gleaming white, comparatively solitary, highly effective as a hunter, etc. Then as Khepri she's a termite, take your pick for which species, representing a mature nest with thousands upon thousands of individuals under the control of a single queen.

lisa: lisa is so so so a jumping spider. super keen eyesight, keen senses, a brain that has to work on overdrive (compared to other arthropods) to do what it does, while also having a lot of color and personality.

rachel: sorry rachel likes dogs too mcuh i can't do this to her. it's like misgendering her :(

brian: hmm. a little tough to pin down a bug that also suffers more than jesus but is also super normal. after much consideration, black widows? sort of a syllogism between the darkness power as something that disables prey compared to venom and webs. the male black widow is eaten by its mate vs. taylor taking his place at the head of the undersiders. that sort of deal.

alec: lots of interesting options here. i think the best ones are the ones whose behavior seems outwardly sexually... awkward or violent to human eyes. the first thing that comes to mind are bed bugs, not for the pun but because of how they mate. growing up in a family where you are groomed for sexual violence vs. existing in a species for whom the only way to reproduce is to forcefully use the (loose equivalent, the actual organ here is a bit more complicated) penis equivalent to create an open wound in another of the species that the sperm is then injected into. also they're very regularly "homosexual," if ideas of gender or sexuality even mean anything here, because the process of traumatic insemination from one male can deliver the sperm into the other male's gametes, allowing the first male to reproduce through the second if they ever mate a female. that or you could opt for a particularly flamboyant parasitoid wasp.

aisha: aisha is sooooo centipede-coded. maybe a house centipede? skittery, hard to pin down, easy to forget they exist, but attention-grabbing when you finally see one. i could see some arguments for a lot of other so called "house hold pests" (i hate that they are my friends and i love them. i am gently putting them into a cup and taking them outside. it's not their fault that my house is made of their food), like firebrats or silverfish or pillbugs.

sabah: she's a luna moth~! luna moth~! (i made a typo the first time and am running with it) she's into that plushie stuff, she's fashionable, she's recognizable. classic.

lily: if I was being really mean i would name one of those species of parasitoid wasp that exclusively lay their eggs in moths and butterflies. however instead, I think she's a mantis shrimp. she's got that sort of style to her, that panache, she's the cop of hte ocean.

sophia: sophia is 100% a dragonfly. looks great, a lot of people who don't know much think they seem nice, but once you really get to know them you realize that they are honed, high-speed predators.

missy: i think missy is also a cockroach. she's not necessarily a predator, she's a survivor, she endures. she's one of the conventionally cute cockroaches though. tropical species. there's one with a blue and yellow look to it - you'll find a picture if you look up "blue and yellow cockroach" on google - that almost matches her green costume + blond hair look, but for some reason I can't find a species name.

victoria: hymenopteran. she's a lowercase wasp in addition to uppercase wasp. paper wasp. done and dusted.

amy: unfortunately i'm also going to have to say bedbug! she has that same "doomed by the narrative / backstory (read for insect: biology) into sexually charged violence" quality. I think also the outsider in the family aspect of her character and the way she effectively silences vicky could be tied back to Cymothua exigua - the infamous tongue-eating louse. which really gets a bad rap, fish don't actually use their tongues all that muich anyways but whatever. flea is also an option but only because i permanetly associate fleas with lesbianism because of the john donne poem the flea being not far from the john donne poem sappho to philaenis in a book i once read of collected poetry. or assassin bug?

armsmaster: i can't really tell you why, but he gives me the vibe of a crab. don't ask.

noelle: the comparison between noelle and an enormous, pulsating termite queen constantly pumping out eggs that turn into servants for her is so obvious i'm frankly surprised that nobody made it in canon.

bakuda: bombardier beetle. obviously. i feel like that goes without saying but i wanted to add it.

riley: okay so i know this is also kind of a duplicate, but riley also has classic Cymothua exigua vibes. it's da animal that does da surgery! especially with what she did to blasto. although i'm pretty sure there are some kinds arthropods that naturally change their gametes to survive better, whcih connects back with the hysterectomy n stuff.

blasto: leafcutter ant! nature's bioengineers.

saving that long ass bug ask until [checks notes] 8 arcs when scarf is allowed to see it

#adding this so other people can see it early because i have i need attention disease #and also for reference for lakesbian so they don't lose track if they wanna show it to scarf #i do have another signifigantly larger listpost about shipping that i might post later because again i have i need attention disease #worm

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kirieshhhka003 · 3 years ago

Text

Pairing: La Squadra x GN! Reader

Warnings: language

La Squadra harem

Risotto Nero

Risotto, as a leader of the hitman squad, immediately notices the change of atmosphere among La Squadra once Y/n appears. Albino, to his huge dismay, understands that he’s not the only one who’s developed feelings for Y/n. Albino knows every member’s habits and usual behavior, capo is the first one of all hitmen who figures out that everyone is his rival now (but only when it comes to Y/n, he’s still their leader and he respects every member equally)

Risotto is more of a father figure to Y/n. He warms up to you shortly, pampering you with his attention and genuine care, always being there for you. You’re hungry? The two of you are going to the nearest cafe for you to have a proper meal and Capo won’t take “no” as an answer. You’re stressed and something messes with your pretty head? What a poor thing, come here, Risotto is always ready to listen. Others immediately catch on the change of Capo’s treatment, every day it becomes even more obvious that he has a huge soft spot for Y/n

Least favorite rival: Melone. Risotto hates how smooth purple-haired is around you, how he is open with his flirting, how sincere all of his words sound. Nero wishes he had at least half of sans gêne Melone has. He’s a Capo and he has a reputation to uphold, but behind closed doors Risotto has tried flirting with Y/n and it was so so clumsy and awkward, it’s just… not his style

Prosciutto

The second father figure for Y/n, but if Risotto is more of a sugar daddy, indulging you with expensive gifts and foods, Prosciutto mostly acts like a real father would, scolding you for going outside at winter without your hat on (tho he never wears a hat himself) or for petting stray animals on the streets

Even despite all of his parental sternness, Prosciutto is really caring and attentive towards Y/n, even more that Risotto is. You got scratched accidentally because of your clumsiness? We gotta clean the wound up and patch it, don’t even try to protest; it may be a simple graze but what if some dirt got in it? Your shoulders ache after a long tiring day? Come hither, your dear Prosci will rub all the pain away

Least favorite rival: Risotto. Prosciutto doesn’t hate or despise albino, no. Risotto is a capo, and he got this status for several reasons, so blonde man still respects his boss, but both man have pretty familiar tactics of charming Y/n, and that definitely annoys Prosciutto

Formaggio

Formaggio is one of the most oblivious of all La Squadra men, he doesn’t realize that he’s not the only one having interest in Y/n and even when other guys flirt openly with Y/n in front of him red-haired just thinks that his teammates just try to be friendly towards a newcomer

He’s definitely that type of macho from all the cheesy movies - attractive, excellent smooth talker with constant flirtings. Formaggio is not opposed of using all possible cringy lines what annoy everyone in La Squadra, even Risotto has hard times restraining the urge to roll his eyes at all those shitty teasings. But Maggi is an easygoing guy, it’s so easy being around him and even all his pick up lines don’t repel you from him

Least favorite rival: doesn’t have one. As I said, this man doesn’t notice that other guys try to get Y/n to themselves, the thought of having possible rivals doesn’t even cross his mind

Illuso

It’s not a secret to anyone that Illuso is a little nasty bitch with a huge god complex and all his wooing is no better. “You wanna spend time with me? Shit, you’re such a pain in my ass! Okay, I guess I will indulge you this time, but that’s only because of your cute face” - doesn’t sound so appealing, does it? And that’s exactly the way brunette flirts with Y/n (well, at least he tries to)

Illuso wants to make you crawl to him, to make you crave for his presence and his touch, you make you fall in love hard. Brunette wears his best outfits, uses the best of his perfumes make up stuff just to show you that he’s better than all of his teammates. Surprisingly, even his behavior changes slightly when Y/n is around - he’s not that unbearably churlish towards you, on the good days he may even compliment you - “Your hair… looks good today, I like it”

Least favorite rival: he hates all of La Squadra equally. Illuso is certain that he’s the only one who truly deserves Y/n’s attention, he’s the best partner for you and only he can treat you properly. Doesn’t even try to hide his hostility towards teammates - why would you want spending time with such a trash?

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio is a tsundere, do I even need to explain why? Is obvious to everyone in La Squadra that he’s head over heels for Y/n, but he still aggressively denies everything if someone points that out. He’s also very protective of you, if Formaggio or Melone or Sorbet try to flirt with you in front of Ghiaccio - they’ll get their nose bleeding soon (blue-haired gets scolded for that by Risotto often)

Blue-haired tries his best to hold all his outbursts in front of you. Even when you ask the stupidest questions, Ghiaccio would clench his fists til his knuckles turn white, grit his teeth, try doing breathing exercises - everything just to remain calm and not to get tantrum in front of you. And you guess that means really a lot

Least favorite rival: Sorbet and Gelato. Those guys (gays, lmao im sorry) don’t even try to hide their interest in Y/n, pinning for you, prying your attention only to themselves. They flirt so openly with you, some of their lines and allusions make even Melone feel slightly uncomfortable, so Ghiaccio sees those almost as if two husbands were shamelessly molesting Y/n

Melone

Melone knows that at times he may be a little bit… too much, so he turns it down for as much as he can so his “strange” tendencies won’t scare Y/n off. For the first few months purple-haired is nothing but sweet and caring, looking pretty normal, just like an average man that doesn’t think of breeding and all possible kinks every two minutes of his time

Even though, he acts like a gentleman with Y/n. Carrying heavy bags for you, giving you a hand when you get up, and if you’re studying medicine he’s up to help you if you have problems with understanding something. Melone had been studying for almost four years at medical uni but got kicked out for having sex with his cogrouper right in the uni. So he may be pretty helpful if you don’t get something or if you’re just interested in medicine

Least favorite rival: I can’t say that he cares much about other guys from La Squadra, but if he had to pick out one it’d be Illuso. It’s not about the way brunette tries to charm Y/n, purple-haired from every beginning didn’t like this guy. All of his conceit and arrogant behavior - it all just pisses Melone off

Pesci

Pesci is so so timid with Y/n, every time you walk by him, saying hi or just smiling at him, poor boy’s heart twists into tight knots. How are you so sweet? How are you so perfect?

Despite all your friendliness green-haired is still incredibly bashful, he is simply afraid of approaching Y/n. It doesn’t matter how much he likes you, Pesci just can’t force himself to try and initiate a chat. Sometimes Prosciutto helps him out with that a little (even though he doesn’t realize that he helps), but blonde is still careful with his actions, not letting even his precious Pesci get too close to Y/n

Least favorite rival: Formaggio. This guy is so noisy and vigorous, every time Pesci finally pulls himself together and finds the courage to approach Y/n this guy seems to appear from fucking nowhere, hogging your attention all to himself and leaving green-haired an angry blushing mess

Sorbet and Gelato

At the very beginning it feels more like you are Sorbet’s and Gelato’s child and they’re your parents fretting over you. They often take you with them on some trips, Gelato helps you with your school (if it’s something he knows about), Sorbet picks you up from work/school and drives you home etc

Sorbet is more of a tease, playing around with you, shamelessly flirting with Y/n, littering with not so pure compliments and comments. His touches are a little bit too long, his gazes are slightly too intense, even stupidest one would notice brunette’s longing for Y/n. Gelato is way less intense than his husband, blonde is way easier with his words, charming you with his sweet talking and constant doting. He’s more of a pillow that eases the expression Sorbet gives you

Sorbet’s least favorite rival: Risotto. Brunette hates how calm and well-composed Capo is, what if Y/n thinks that albino is cooler than he is? But Sorbet immediately makes a new plan in his head: if Risotto is more of a dad to Y/n, always doting on you and being so kind, Sorbet’s going to become your daddy, making you fall for him and Gelato, make you hungry for their attention

Gelato’s least favorite rival: blonde is pretty acknowledged that everyone in La Squadra tryies to get Y/n to themselves, he sees everyone (except Sorbet ofc) as his rival. Man dislikes everyone, seeing them as his opponents, but he doesn’t have a least favorite one. Yes, other members are hella pain in the ass, but blonde is pretty sure that Y/n will end up in his and Gelato’s arms anyways, so there’s no need to jangle his nerves

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

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whirlybirbs · 4 years ago

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( chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes from this lovely set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

( PREVIOUSLY | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )

Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

#vacant mirrors #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky/reader #winter soldier x reader #mcu imagine #tfatws imagine #A LITTLE LATER THAN PROMISED BUT SHE IS HERE

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