#help why is the grammar so complicated??

[just-leui]

[amynchan]

God I wish, I wish, but the way I see the free schedule happening is one of two ways:

We get more teachers on more shifts, so teaching becomes a 24 hour profession OR teaching ends up with a day shift, where we get the morning kids; the afternoon shift, where we get the late risers; and the night shift, where we teach the insomniacs. Obviously, you'd need teachers who have the same natural sleeping rhythms to teach these classes, but that can kinda be done. In the college sphere, we have morning, afternoon, and evening classes, but you'd run into the same problem we get over here. The classes themselves would most likely have the same workload as the classes that are taught during the current time frame, but the main trouble is that we wouldn't ever be sure if those teachers have full classes that will pay them out until basically a few days beforehand. Classes get cancelled due to low enrollment all the time, so these teachers would be lesson planning and building classes that may not be used (which, yeah, that's a reality. It's happened to me a couple times now. Not enough students enroll in a class, and it gets cut, and the teachers don't get paid for the work we do before class even starts). We also have students who don't pay attention and sign up for the 8:00AM classes and just... show up as zombies even though they signed up for it. They're not engaged, they're not ready, and it's somehow my job to fix that.

The other one is move instruction to completely online courses so that way we can allow all students to take classes at entirely their own pace. This is the one we're closer to, and it's the one that's easier to see the practical problems of it (so hopefully we can fix the damn things!). Online learning, as we all know from our good ol' friend Covid, puts a great deal of responsibility on the student that—half the time—they weren't aware that the teacher had provided for them all along. A place and time separate from other responsibilities with which to do the work, materials to do the work, steady socialization, near instantaneous feedback and guidance when you get off-task. The classroom itself does a lot. Online learning can give you so much freedom, but as an instructor, I've seen so many students use that freedom to say "fuck all" to education. And I teach college in America. The USA doesn't make you go to college. I'm not sure how it works elsewhere, but that's how it works here. You won't get in trouble for not going or even applying. You should be in college because you've got some kind of goal for it. Therefore, you should only be enrolled in the class in the first place because you want to do something with it and should already have some kind of internal motivation to follow through. But students just don't. Not because of their sleep schedules, but because online learning requires a level of discipline and internal motivation that just isn't expected of them anymore. If a student doesn't wanna do the work, they just won't. And it's relatively fine for a college instructor, who isn't paid by how many students pass the class. Honest. I could fail the entire class and get by relatively okay as long as I'm able to defend my decision and point out the numerous amount of times I reached out to help them.

But high school and below??? They are paid and penalized by how many or how few students pass their course. Again, covid taught us this; if all of those students just choose to sit on their asses, they could get their way at the expense of people's jobs and livelihoods (for the longest time, my dad was the only worker in our house. As a high school instructor, he shoved all six of us—yes, including himself to get his master's degree so he could earn more money to support us!—through higher education by working his ass off. He was a stern teacher, too, so if the students did that to him, they would have fucked over my entire family. It's scary to think of how many other teachers' families are going through that right now because of the shift in cultural attitude about learning and going to school). And to the students, this threat to lives and livelihoods is usually not their concern, because they'll be gone after a year and why should they care? Easy A! Sit on your ass! Accuse the teacher of some shady shit! Works for me!

(Seriously. A student didn't like their grade in my dad's class, went home, ripped out their own stitches, and tried to cry to admin about my dad abusing them. I was in the room when the 'confrontation' happened, and the audacity shook me to my core. And this was years before Covid. This is only one example of some of the shit my dad has been through. The shift in attitude has been going on for years.)

Like, I get the original argument that "everyone in the world has different needs, and the world needs to adjust and accommodate to take care of it." I want that. I want a world where my sister didn't have to feel like an idiot because she's not a morning person and I am. I want a world where my sibling has the time to pursue both passion and education. I want that. However, on this side, I can only see this broken system that punishes us for trying to educate kids who don't see what, exactly, we are trying to offer them and can only see "you fuck with me and I fuck with you and no I don't give a damn about how it'll hurt you as long as I get my way." It's never enough. It's never, ever, ever enough. Even if we try to help them within the parameters we're given, it will never be enough.

Try to hire more teachers to teach in shifts to accommodate for the different and very natural sleeping patterns of students? First, find a teacher who has that same sleeping pattern and then have them on standby, only to cut their job if not enough students sign up for their class and stick to it. Hope that teacher has got a backup plan, buddy. Try to do online courses where students can learn at their own pace? In addition to all the work that goes into making a class that is both engaging and effective (I overworked myself to mental exhaustion for one online course this semester. The students who stuck it out loved it, and while that's worth it, I just hope that all the prep I did this semester will save me next semester when I gotta do it all over again), good luck making sure that the students themselves have the internal motivation to finish AND good luck also trying to be available to them so they can ask questions while also maintaining whatever little sanity you have left. That student who's up at 2AM, as is natural and good for them, may not be able to meet up with the teacher who sleeps from 12AM-5AM every night (if they like to push to the brink of their sanity).

I teach English, but I teach more than that, too. We all do. Time management, respect for others, critical thinking, problem solving and troubleshooting, and more. And I'm a college instructor. I have freedoms that not many others in the industry have. I can create my lessons liberally, I can choose OERs to use so I don't have to force my students to buy anything, I can create content that they don't have to shell extra money out for. As long as I follow the standards and guidelines, I can alter what I need when I need to for the betterment of my students. I feel so bad for the rest of my family, all of whom teach high school and are trapped within the same bureaucracy that everyone bitches about, but they, as teachers themselves, can't do anything without getting hit with a huge hammer for it by admin, by students, or by parents (and that is a WHOLE other thing). The shifts don't work entirely, and the online classes don't work entirely either (yet, yet, hopefully yet!).

If the sleeping schedule was literally the only thing, those options might be viable. Because then we'd probably have students consistently signing up for time slots so we could make them more consistently available, and we'd have students consistently doing the work without the sleeping schedule as a natural impediment because they'd be motivated to get it done. But as much of a good student, or even mediocre student who just showed up and didn't make too many waves, as you were, these are currently luxuries that we can't afford because we're trying to get everyone on the same page teaching-wise.

There's the sleeping schedule thing, yes. There are possible fixes for it, yes. However, as much as a lot of people want this, there's always going to be some bureaucracy and some people who just say "what if I hit the big red destruct button?" that it fucks it up for everyone else.

And, yeah, I'm mad about it.

In the future the way we treat different sleep schedules is going to be thought of as just as weird and barbaric as beating kids for being left-handed. People will read about how we thought certain circadian rhythms were bad and made people take melatonin and use special lights to make their circadian rhythms different, and they will think, "So sad and ignorant...everybody is just afraid of difference."

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader

Route: Recovered dove: How they and batfamily got close

Author's note: Route: Recovered dove will be consistent of parts that describe the future of Joker's kid! reader, who succeeded in getting close with batfamily, so you can say it`s more hurt/comfort, maybe fluff (?) In my masterlist, you could see another route (Route black fog), and this one will be the opposite to Route: Recovered dove Warnings: Grammar (as usual), mental traumas

Ideas for some parts form here This part is here despite everything, so please enjoy reading 💖

The first person who you got close with was, of course, Alfred. Seeing how clueless and helpless you were with basic living stuff and how eager you were to learn and help made old butler realize that you were not a threat, you are just a child. And a very sad one at it. It seemed like you didn't understand how a kid should behave. Kids shouldn't be scared all the time, and kids should not flinch in various situations. But then again, have he even seen a normal kid in this family? Of course not. You were traumatized just like the rest of the kids. And he knew he had to be gentle with you.

Even if you thought that on the family movie night you were alone, watching the rest of the family having happy time, you weren't alone. And weren't that sneaky. Alred watched you. He saw your silent tears. He understood your pain and how you were hurting. And that's breaks his heart. He knows that you were struggling with a lot already, new life that was too complicated for you to navigate and get used to, new things, new home, new people, but same weight of judgment from others on your shoulders, and you were facing this alone. So he decided to stay by your side. Every morning , he wakes you up, cheeks up on you. You are invited to help him cook, but he keeps an eye on the knives and other sharp objects, especially after scissors incident. You are invited on afternoon tea time, and he is invited on your TV time. He also introduced you to various old classical English soap operas (Firstly, yes, he watches them, secondly, would show detectives, but he doesn't want you seeing something disturbing), which you watch with interest, try to understand how people act. He practiced speaking with you, helping you talk instead of mumble. He also is the one who tells you about family, telling you about each and every one.

Alfred, I'm happy to see you figuring out your likes and dislikes, considering all of you try is new for you. You liked the breakfast? He will cook it for you more often. You liked the tea? You will drink it on the afternoon tea.

For you, adjusting to your new life isn't easy. You have specific habits you can not control, and he knows some of them, Jason had similar, for example, hiding the food in your room or eating once a day. So he has to make you eat more, and explains to you why hiding food in your room is not a good option. He also notices your other habit that you do not notice. You make your wounds worse without realizing it. One time you accidentally cut yourself by breaking a cup, accidentally of course, and he doesn't blames you, even if you do not belive him, but he noticed your fidgeting with wound, not letting it heal fully. But unlike Jason, you have other habits that he can describe results of trauma. Flinching is just one of them. You tend to stay away, have distance, and you are always too quiet. He sees how you are afraid of showing your emotions, how you prefer to choose something natural, for example when he was bandaging your cuts from broken cup he was about to use bandages with animals, kids patterns Dick choose and forced on Damian, and you asked him to use a simple white one.

Alfred is here for you, and he wishes others would be too. So, of course, he had a stern talk with Bruce about your situation. And Bruce remembered what was escapism his sight. Yes, you. When you were in medbay, your condition was critical, so he was on alert, but since you recovered and started to stay in manor, he allowed himself to relax. You were on every breakfast, so you were fine, right? Wrong! After talking with Alfred, Bruce decided to pay more attention to you, but without an immediate approach. That was also the time he noticed your new haircut. Yes, he definitely needs to give a closer look to you. And he noticed those worrying habits Alfred told about. Okay, Bruce, we have a child who are traumatized. What will we do to help them without taking them in? Lead them to therapy! But how do you accept this idea? So he slowly started building the communication with you. It started with check-ins, when small questions about your likes and dislikes. And then there opened the opportunity to talk with you about going to therapy. One time he saw you watching a documentary on TV, he joined in. And while putting his cup on the coffee table, he saw you flinch. Making you talk about it wasn't easy. You just stared at him, looked, as if trying to construct perfect answer just from his reaction, but at the same time, knowing that answers that worked with Joker won't work with Bruce. He knew you needed his patience, his understanding. You needed safe space, and he decided to give you that. And when you did talk, he held his breath. He knew things were bad, but hearing this from you made him feel worse. He reminded you that you were safe now, that you had him. He gently hugged you while you needed him and comfort. And when you calmed down, he introduced the idea of therapy for you and met your confused look. He had to explain it simply, and after some time, you agreed. Although it took some time, he now drives you to every one of your therapy sessions, making sure you feel alright and fine. And when you were well enough to go to an explore city, he made it a point to show you good but quiet places in the Gotham. It started from little garden park, when quiet book shop, and small cafe.

On one of those days, he was driving you back, he left his tablet with open files on the latest investigation about the Scarecrow dashboard, he was looking through them while waiting for you, trying to figure out unusual composition of the toxins, he couldn't find it in his date base, and Tim was asleep after whole week of all nighters As you saw the tablet, you couldn't help your curiosity and look at it, and as you recognized what you saw, you quietly said.

- it is an incomplete product of the conversion of ibotenic acid to muscimol

Now that got his attention, he looked at you, a bit confused that you said so, but decided to see if you could say more

- I've run tests, it didn't recognize it as such

- It's probably because it's incomplete, frozen by other chemicals. In this state, it provides both effects. Father used to use it in this state.

- How do you know this? - he asked, a bit of suspicion in his voice

- well, I was in his lab... and I know this because he tested it on me, too.

Bruce regretted that he asked, remembering how much of a trauma you had because of your father. He put his hand on your shoulder in a comforting way

- You are not there anymore - he said gently, on which you just nodded.

- Do you work with that sort of things a lot - you said pointing on the tablet

- Yeah, more than I would like - Bruce said, a bit tiredly

- Can I see it? I might recognize some more.

Bruce looked at you, analyzing your words and your body language, and seeing that you are sincere, he said

- when you are about to have an excursion in a real lab.

From that moment, you became a welcome guest in batcave. Of course, Bruce keeps an eye on you while you were there, but you've never done something to make him distrust you. And this way, your knowledge may be used in a good way.

You were surprised when one day, you heard knocking on your door just after breakfast and saw Dick. He was smiling at you and greeted you happily when you opened. He started happily bubbling about something, and you couldn't quite keep up with him, so you just looked at him confused, yet you were still happy to see him, happy that he kept his promise.

- So, are you going? -he asked, his tone giddy

- where?

- I promise that we will hang out, and considering good weather I decided we can go for a outing in the garden - you looked at him confused.

Dick heard from Bruce and Alfred that you were making progress to go outside, but yet you didn't do it regularly enough, but you vitamin D! And, since he promised to hang out with you, and the weather today was good, he decided that it was the perfect opportunity to interact with you to sun. He understood you didn't want to go far from home, so the garden seemed like the best choice.

Before he came to get you out, he prepared a cozy little hang out spot, comfortable chais, and table with boardgames and snacks. It wasn't in open sun, but it was lightened just fine. He wasn't sure if you liked boardgames or were familiar with them at all, but he knee it was a good option for bounding.

When he checked, you were all set to go, he lead you outside, walking slower than usual so that you could catch up. Seeing your cute curious eyes taking in all the surroundings of the garden was endearing.

When he led you to the spot, he told you about games, letting you decide in which play first. For every game, he explained rules, as good as he could remember them. Although he guided you through each and every game, he was enjoying it, enjoying seeing your reactions, enjoying seeing sparkles of happiness in your eyes. Even if he knew you deserved the chance, seeing you now made his resolve stronger. He couldn't help but feel protectiveness towards you. He couldn't help but want to be a reason for your smile, Gods, he wants to see you smile so so much.

From that day, every time he is in manor, he pays you a visit. He will take walks with you in the garden, or he just joins your activities. Watching birds? Okay, he is in and even talks with you about them, and by the way, he bought you puzzles with robins and nightingales (he thinks this way he will make you even closer to the family). Watching TV, he is in, sitting next to you, asking you opinion. Oh, by the way, you are attending family bounding events. He will drag you there and beat up everyone who will disagree with him on it (but of course, not on your eyes)

And when he saw in in batcave, seeing how you talked with Bruce about some sort of toxin, he was amazed by how good you were in it. He was happy to see how you were fitting in both civilian and vigilante sides of his hectic but lovely family. He can't help but smile.

Jason had the opposite reaction on seeing you in batcave. What the hell were you doing this. How the hell you were able so easily to differ between toxins and their components. It wasn't just right. You weren't right. You shouldn't be here. Was it some sick prank from the clown that Bruce, Dick and even Alfred ignored? Okay, Dick is gullable, but Bruce? Was his habit of picking up children for his collection that bad? And Alfred.... he knew the man knew he was more he was letting on, so it confused him.

He seemed to see every step you made as wrong, and he wasn't about to stop until he started watching. He knew that neither Bruce, Alfred, or save goodness, Dick never would hit you, and considering how long you were here, you still was flinching. He noticed how you were hesitating to do things you should not hesitate to do. How you were, unlike your father, reserved and quiet, as if afraid to show yourself.

It made him think. Think really hard. Were you really a monster he saw you? Or were you a victim yourself? After that, he couldn't help but see similarities. Another child who grew up in a crime alley, another child taken in by the Bat, another child whose life was impacted by Joker.

Broken. He was broken by clown, so were you. Even when he was broken, his family didn't see him as lost cause, so why did he immortal thought you were one?

He decided to give you a chance. After 6 are not a monster .... yet.

Though he planned on tolerating you in distance, one time he couldn't just stay away. You were in the living room, but instead of watching TV, you were trying to read a book outloud, probably practicing speach (he can vaguely remember how Dick and Alfred discussed it), but seems like you were struggling. Some words were coming out broken, in your stuttering voice, but you weren't giving up

He walked up, sitting next to you, quietly looking at the book, not skipping the fact that you flinched. The situation was a mess. He never was good with kids, demon-brat is his witness, but he can do at least something, right?

- A knight - he read for you, voice more gentle than usual one - and that one is responsibility.

Reading with you slowly, helping you to promote and understanding words was oddly calming experience. Maybe you weren't as bad as he thought. Maybe you are even cute. Well. You really rubbed onto him.

While Tim also keeps his distance from you, he does study you. And he notces all the sings that you weren't in your previous predicament by your desire, which is obvious, who would have choose such a fate, he never did. Yet, you make him worry. He can't control it.

All the data shows that even though you were a real kid of Joker, you became Joker Junior after Tim. That means that after Joker failed with Tim, his attention went to you. It doesn't put right with him.

He knew that he shouldn't feel guilty, yet he could not. All he can do is just ignore you when you come in to bring him coffee, duty you help Alfred with.

But when he, after much needed sleep, expected to continue Scarecrow case right when he left off, that horrible toxin, only to hear you helped solved it and find antidote, he was more amazed than horrified.

He decided to make an investigation of his own. He purposely left different printed chemicals formulas around, so you would notice and comment. Although he thought you won't recognize any of them, you did recognize them, but couldn't name every one of them scientifically. He could tell you had knowledge, and thay it could be really useful, but you didn't get structure for it in your head, so he decided to help.

Kindred spirit, that how he felt about you when he saw oh so familiar thirst for knowledge in you. And you were learning quickly, too. You hand your own struggles. But he saw that you worked to overcome them.

And well, he liked teaching you, telling you about his tech. He liked going you actually listened. He liked how, after a few study sessions, you, though timidly, were asking him real questions. That made him want to spend time with you

One day, when you were supposed to study with him, he decided to help you study something else : games. Yes he had to choose 0+, so that he could be sure I won't trigger you, but now he was a game parter. And Dick sometimes joins in.

Now, he can actually look at you. Smile at you. Not only did you 6 his interest but won a place in his heart.

Damian, grumpy as always, was taking out his anger on training dummy. He just had not one stern talk, but three! Subject: you. What does his father mean that he should try and understand your situation? What does Alfred mean when he says that Damian should be nice to you? What does Grayson (Even Grayson!) mean when he says that you and him should get along? Him? Damian Wayne, get along with sorts of you? Have you done anything in your life for it?

You may be smart in chemistry and quick lerner, but he is smarter! He is better in general. And you are weak, clumsy ... maybe that's why everyone is protective of you. Tt. That makes you even more weak.

Though Damian can see how you try to get along with others, how you try to get used to manor. How you try to avoid him. Wait, he is the only one in manor whom you avoid. At first, he didn't mind, Drake and Todd avoided you as well, but now. He is alone in this avoidance game. And he feels like he is losing. He hates losing.

- What's so special about you? - he thinks, as he walks to your room, the furtherest one, he noticed. You are avoiding him.

He watched you do different things, watching birds, reading, and solving puzzles, as if you avoided him.

He shouldn't even be this pissed off about it. Why should he. But he is.

He can't believe he talks with Grayson about how to spend time with you. He can't believe he asking Father for special crayons, once that would be easy to your for someone who never held them before. He can't believe he is asking Alfred about your living room visits. But here he is, sitting that paper and crayons on the table. Waiting for you. Once you are in the room, the trap is closed. He says that you WILL draw with him, and you do.

He feels oddly proud when you say that the bird he drew is pretty. You should admire him after all. But he can't help but smirk. He feels oddly concentrated when he explains to you how to draw, his voice calm, as if it was his only purpose to make you understand how to do it.

Surprisingly, he doesn't mock your works. He just looks at your reaction. You seem as monotonous as ever, yet he can see that happy glint in your eyes, of which Grayson told him. He feels oddly satisfied.

Though he would never admit it all outloud, to even to himself. This knowledge is inside him, warming him up, more than he thinks. By the way, he scheduled his next art class for you already.

It takes time to build trust. It takes time to get used to, but it seems it has been enough time for you to finally become a real part of batfamily. But, of course. It's only the beginning of the story

--------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ -----------------------

Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your opinion and have a good day 💖

Tag list :

@socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla ,  @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer , @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1

if i forgot to add someone to the tag list, please let me know, and i will add you to the next part

[alesbianperson]

football player!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: At the football play you visited to support your best friend, something happens that you didn't expect.

warnings: smoking (weed); slightly implied loser Ellie at the end; swear words; girls kissing (what a surprise); my writing idk

authors note: so firstly I mean football as soccer and not american football, but its not important to the plot so it can be interpreted as either; secondly, sorry for being so inactive I actually needed fucking half a year just for this its actually embarressing, I'm really slow at writing I don't know why, but I'm trying to be more active. I also didnt proofread so sorry for grammar mistakes or something anyway I hope you enjoy this!!

ALSO BIG DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN AND THE FACT THAT HE SUPPORTS ISRAEL!! If you don't know whats going on in Palestine, please go educate yourself because its highly important.

Here are a few links, so nobody can say it's too complicated or annoying to search for information (besides its really fucking heartless, cruel and totally not human to say "I dont wanna put effort in researching" while people are literally suffering and dying because of a genocide):

General information/updates

Brands to boycott

How you can help Palestine

Palestine masterposts: 1 2

--☆--

This evening was the final football game of the season. Everyone was so excited, and your best friend played in the school team, so of course, you came to this game to support her. You already arrived a bit late because you took a nap and didn't hear the alarm, so you quickly searched for your friends who were already sat and luckily saved you a seat. When they saw you coming in, they waved you over to them.

"What took you so long? The game has already started!" One of them said before switching their attention back to the field. "Sorry, I overslept." You explained yourself sitting down on your seat. "You didn't miss much, just a foul from the other team. They're so annoying and clearly playing anything but fair." Another one of your friends said, rolling her eyes while offering you a bag of chips. You declined and began searching for your best friend between all the other players, running on the field. Not even five seconds later, you found her. With the ball in front of her, she ran towards the goal. You joined the cheers of everyone from your school, sure that this was going to be such a great goal until:

A girl from the other team came out of nowhere, running towards her, tackling her to the ground. You gasped. "That was another foul!" One of your friends exclaimed, standing up to better see what the referee would say. But instead of also looking at the referee, your gaze still hasn't left the girl, responsible for the foul.

She looked pleased with herself. What an asshole! You thought to yourself, but couldn't deny that the way her eyes sparkled in the light and her auburn hair moved in the wind was mesmerising. Too distracted by her features, you realised a bit late that she was eyeing you too. A smirk on her lips, she winked at you before walking off the field, your eyes still on her.

"Too bad that bitch just got a yellow card. She deserved more, right?" Your friends, already discussing the decision of the referee, were turning to you since you were the only one who didn't comment on it. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realised you hadn't listened the whole time, busy gushing over that girl. "Yeah.. definitely more." Was all you said to not keep the attention on you.

"Guys," you added after a short pause, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back."

"Sure."

"But hurry, they're already playing again."

You just slightly nodded before walking off to search for the bathrooms. To your luck, they weren't far away from your seats, so it didn't take too long to find them. As you closed the door behind you, a strong smell of weed filled your lungs. Holding a hand in front of your mouth, you coughed reflexively.

"Having trouble breathin', princess?"

You turned around to see the girl who fouled your best friend sitting on the sink, her legs slightly swinging forwards and back. She still wore her tricot but now had a grey, dirty, worn-out jacket over it. The half up half down bun she had was messed up, probably because of the constant running on the field, and between two of her fingers, she held an already half smoked joint.

Her smile rose as she noticed your gaze lingering on her again. "Y'want a photo? It'll last longer." She chuckled, finding this old ass joke very funny. You rolled your eyes at her words but couldn't help the smile, forming on your lips. "What are you doing here anyway, don't you have to play?" She blew out the smoke she held in her mouth before answering your question. "My coach replaced me. Said I needed a break before playing again." You just nodded because you didn't know how to keep the conversation going. For a few seconds, you both just looked at each other in silence. After taking another drag from the joint, she leaned forward, offering you to do the same.

"No, thanks. I don't smoke."

"Thought so." She chuckled. After a short pause, she added: "Not in a rude way, of course. Y'just don't look like you'd do drugs." Even though you knew it was childish and totally stupid, you now wanted to prove to her that you were indeed someone who could take drugs. So you took the joint out of her hand, carefully brought it to your lips, and inhaled.

You probably shouldn't have inhaled this deep because now you were coughing like someone poured tons of sand down your throat. It surely felt like it. When you calmed down a bit, you looked up again, handing the joint back to the girl on the sink, who was clearly amused. "What a brave girl." She said with a shit eating grin on her face. "Come here, I'll show you how it's done right."

She gestured between her spread legs. As you moved towards her, she leaned in, reducing the space between the two of you. "Open your mouth." She then proceeded to take a drag from the joint. As she moved closer, your breath hitched. Your eyes wandered from her gorgeous green ones down to her lips, and heat rose in your cheeks again. Without breaking eye contact, she blew the smoke she had in her mouth into yours. Reflexively, you closed it.

"Now hold it in."

And that's what you did. The smoke filled your lungs, this time a lot less painful than your first drag. After a few seconds, you exhaled slowly, a small smile of pride on your face.

Your faces were still very close, and silence fell upon the both of you again. The tension thickend. Her emerald green eyes stared directly into yours, abruptly blinking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?" Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, fading into thin air. A smirk grew once again on her lips before nodding and then proceeding to lean in and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once her lips were on yours, she cupped your cheek, her fingertips brushing slightly over it. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Her lips were so soft. You couldn't really describe the feeling, but it felt good. Like you were on cloud nine. You quickly synced with the rhythm she set, leaning forward so that her back met the wall behind her.

Your hands wandered behind her neck, beginning to tug on her hair slightly. A soft groan escaped her lips at the sudden impact, which sounded like music to your ears.

A smile formed on your lips once she broke the kiss to catch her breath. "What're you smiling at?" She looked at you irritated, which just caused you to chuckle.

"I don't know. You're.. pretty."

Silence followed after that.

"Pretty enough to get your number?"

Ellie wanted to bash her head against the wall at her cringe comment. She thought she'd definitely crossed the line now. But you just began laughing, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound.

"Sorry. Don't get me wrong I-", you interrupted yourself by holding up your finger to signal her to wait and began searching for your phone in your purse. Fuck. You thought as you realised you left it in your jacket with your friends and hurriedly searched around for something to write on. Ellie just watched you amused, catching on to your plan. She snatched a pepertowel out of the spender and offered it to you. You just gave her an awkward smile, fishing a half empty kajal out of your purse and scribbled your phone number on it.

As you handed it to her, she took it with the same smirk she had in the beginning. "As sad as it is, I think I have to go back on the field. My coach probably misses me by now." She added hesitantly while sliding off the sink and walking towards the door. "Cool meeting you, though." The click of the closing door was the last thing you heard before you were completely alone in the bathroom.

With the paper towel still in her hand, Ellie made her way over to the rest of her team, almost jumping with joy and thanking every mighty power for letting her survive the whole conversation without completely losing her mind or embarrassing herself. She'd definitely save your number as soon as she could. Actually contacting you was a whole other story.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Your Novel Part 2: The Plot Pass

Okay, it's finally time to edit. You've got all your materials sorted, it's time to dive right in. You want to start with the big edits first, aka the plot pass.

Now listen. You're going to want to linger and fix those little bits of grammar or dialogue, and I know it's so hard not to, but letting yourself get off-track might mean wasting hours on a scene you realize later you have to delete. Fix a few spelling errors, leave a note, and stay plot-focused.

Making Sense (Of the Plot)

In the plot pass, you're asking yourself some basic questions:

Do events follow a clear order? - When you're getting everything down on the page for the first time, scenes might get jumbled up or events might not have clear causes. Maybe you have a car crashing into the cafe pages before, but in a writing haze, you wrote your main characters having a casual conversation moments later. If the bad guy beats your heroes to treasure, is it clear how they got there? (Not everyone can be Yzma.)

Do circumstances feel contrived? If there are any problems that can be solved by your characters sitting down and talking to each other, it may be better to lean into their motivation for not speaking to each other, rather than coming up with bad romcom scenarios. If the plot can be resolved by the mcguffin the grandma had the whole time, it might be better to make finding that mcguffin part of the plot instead.

It doesn't have to be perfect, and you don't have to reinvent the wheel. If someone gets bitten by a werewolf, it's perfectly fine to have them turn into one at the worst possible moment. When it comes to contrived, you're looking for problems that seem easy to solve and look for more interesting ways to complicate them.

Are your character motivations consistent to the characters throughout the story? - They can change throughout the story, but character motivations do need to be linked to the actions they take. An out-of-nowhere betrayal is way more satisfying if you lay the groundwork for it ahead of time.

Take a moment to list out the motivations of the characters in a scene you're not quite sure of can help you figure how to fix it. Having an outline helps with this a lot!

Are you following an "if... then" format? - My brain doesn't work like this when I'm writing, because as a writer you know how A got to Z, and it seems (in your head) obvious how it happened. This is where my scene card outline come in handy, because I can look at my overview of what should happen and why, and then compare it to what actually happens in the scene. I've discovered so many threads I forgot to connect that way, like why a character had a certain device (I forgot to have him pick it up two scenes earlier), or adding a few simmering dialogue bits that make the big fight pay off much better.

Can you fix the "Because the Plot Demands It" scenes? - Look, sometimes your character needs to be in that haunted house to see that damn ghost, but your character isn't the type to set foot in such a place. It's really easy, especially in the first draft, to contrive a way in there (she took a wrong turn on her way to grandma's!), but retooling these scenes to connect them to the characters motivations and needs is the way to go. The main character doesn't want to go into that obviously cursed place, but her best friend hasn't shown up for school in three days and now she's crying for help from the second floor window. Your character's strong desire to be there for her friend is a much better way to get her into that house.

This is not always easy - it took me six fricken drafts to realize a critical part of a character's motivation was because his father blamed him for his mother's death - but it is going to be worth putting in the work to hammer down.

Do you have a solid timeline? - This might not seem as important, but it's super easy to accidentally fit two weeks worth of activities in three days. Make sure you have that on reference, even if you don't mention it in the book. Also make sure to gauge your distances if your characters are on a trip, because if you do accidentally say it takes two hours to drive from Seattle to Spokane instead of five, someone will dive down your throat for it. Not me. Just someone.

Okay, maybe me. Slow down, you maniacs.

Next post we'll dive into the structure pass. See you then!

[4unnyr0se]

Hi love your writing!! I havent touched HQ in 3 years but Im starting to love old characters I use to fall in love with like Asahi, Oikawa, Bokuto etc,,, so as my first req, could you pls write fem! Reader x Bokuto fluff in HS?

Like Bokuto trying to court the reader. How would that go? And how did he finally ask us out?

Feel free to ignore this if you dont like the idea! Ty for ur time 🤍❤️🤍

❥ young love at fukurodani | kotaro bokuto

warnings: none that i can think of. this is pure fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 1.6k

okay so aaaa this didn't rlly follow the ask bc all he does is ask reader to tutor him and then cute stuff happens but i can make a hc of it probably tonight or tomorrow?? also i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so im very sorry if its horrible. i love u!

got a request? my asks are open!

Bokuto wasn’t one to get embarrassed that easily. Sure, he did embarrassing things but didn’t know they were embarrassing. They were part of his boyish charm, which people loved about him…right? Of course, they did. He was Kotaro Bokuto. He was Fukurodani’s ace, and the people loved him for it. So why, if he was so confident, did he get awkward and embarrassed around you, his pretty classmate?

Saying you were gorgeous was an understatement. He couldn’t find the right words to describe you to his friends, mainly Akaashi. “She’s just like, y’know? And I’m like, oh damn! She’s cute as fuck!” Boktuo would make various gestures with his hands as he and Akaashi sat on the steps leading to the gym, sipping cola from the vending machine. “What do I do, Akaashi? She’s so pretty, and I’m pretty too! The only problem is that everyone else in our year thinks so, too…do I even have a shot?”

Akaashi would offer him a pitiful smile, rubbing his back in assurance. “Well, isn’t she one of the smartest in our year?”

“Yeah, smart and pretty. She’s so fucking perfect, I wish you could see her.” he pouted.

“Well, the answer is simple,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Ask her for help with homework; god knows you need it.”

“Hey! I got a 41 on my chemistry test!” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi as the setter entered the gym. But he did have a point, like always. Bokuto decided then and there that he would ask you to tutor him tomorrow, no matter how anxious he was. Anxiety was for suckers anyway.

“Hey, wait up!” Bokuto ran after you as you exited your classroom, papers flying out of his messy bookbag that was riddled with stains from only God knows what. “I gotta ask you a question!”

You stopped walking and turned your heel, raising an eyebrow as the Fukurodani captain barreled towards you. “Hey, what’s up, Bokuto? How’s volleyball going? Are we headed to nationals?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip. God, even the way you held yourself was perfect. Were you an actual goddess, or was Bokuto just lovestruck?

Bokuto finally caught up to you, leaning against the hallway walls in an attempt to appear suave and put-together. His messy uniform didn’t help his cause, but he forgot to look neat today. And every day after that. “Uh, I was wondering if you understood what we were assigned in English yesterday? I don’t understand any of it to save my skin, hah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. “Did you get what our teacher was saying?”

“Yeah, it was really simple. Just basic grammar and syntax structures. Was it complicated for you?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I don’t really get it. Wanna tutor me at my house today? I can get you snacks!” he offered you a crooked smile, leaning forward so his golden eyes peered into yours. “C��mon, please? The coach will kick my ass if I don’t get my grades up, and I have a game next week! Pretty please?” he folded his hands in prayer, his bottom lip in a childish pout.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing him off the wall. Bokuto blushed at the sudden contact, noticing how neat you kept your fingernails compared to his own. Yours were neatly polished to perfection while he bit his nails almost constantly, and being a wing spiker didn’t come with having good-looking nails. 

“Where’s your house? Is it walking distance?” you let go of his hand, much to Bokuto’s dismay. 

“Yeah, it’s about five minutes from here. Wanna stop at a convenience store on the way? I’m really hungry.” he rubbed his stomach as you two walked out the nearest exit, your messenger bag dangling over your shoulder. 

“Only if you’re paying,” you joked, rubbing his shoulder. Bokuto could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Were you actually flirting with him, or were you just really touchy? Either way, it was a win in his book. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. Anything for a pretty girl like yo-” Bokuto stopped his sentence, smacking his hand over his mouth. “I-I mean, why wouldn’t I mind? I’m a captain, after all. It’s my job to provide for my teammates!”

“But I’m not on any sports teams. I’m not your teammate.” you deadpanned, 

“You know what I mean!” Bokuto whined, wiping his forehead of the sweat that was slowly starting to gather. “Damn, it’s a hot one today. Why won’t they let the guys wear shorts? Do they want us to die of heat stroke or something?”

“I honestly have no idea,” you sighed, walking under the shade of the convenience store roof. “Wait a minute,” you instructed, placing your messenger bag on the hot pavement. You shrugged off your school blazer and wrapped it around your waist tightly in an attempt to cool you off. You also rolled up the sleeves of your white blouse, loosening your collar. “Sorry, I’m just really warm. At least we get to wear skirts, right?” you offered him a lopsided smile.

Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest. “Uh, yeah, you girls are so lucky. Wearing skirts must feel awesome.”

“It’s awesome until you catch someone trying to look it up,” you mumbled in annoyance, hoisting your bag over your shoulders. 

“What the actual fuck? Who was it? I’ll murder them! I'll text Konoha too; he’ll definitely want in on it,” Bokuto clenched his fists together, walking into the store with you. “I’m sorry that happened to you, honestly.

You shrugged your shoulder and rummaged through the ice cream pin, choosing a passionfruit-flavored ice bar. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I barely know you, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t protect you from jerks like that guy,” Bokuto angrily shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the tile. He fished about 400 yen out of his pocket and handed it to the cashier, ushering you out of the shop as quickly as possible. 

“What was that for?” you asked, unwrapping the popsicle. 

“I didn’t like how he looked at you, that’s all.” Bokuto huffed. He made grabby motions for your bookbag, which you handed to him with a confused look on your features. “Let me carry that, please. You’re too pretty to carry heavy stuff around like that all day.”

You paused your walk and stared at Bokuto, blushing softly. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Bokuto slowly nodded and gave you a crooked smile, blushing in turn. “Yeah, I really do. I was afraid to tell you before, but now I’m all fired up. I wanna protect you from creeps, y’know?”

You popped the ice treat out of your mouth and stepped forward, smiling softly. “We barely know each other, and you want to keep me safe? We haven’t even hung out once.”

“We’re heading to my house right now, aren’t we?” Bokuto shrugged, his blush not fading. 

You chuckled and took another step forward, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his own. “You know, I always thought you were kind of cute. In the athletic kind of way, I suppose.”

Bokuto dropped the bags he held onto the hot concrete beneath you, praying they wouldn’t roll down the hill you were standing on. You two were in a remote location, and the tension was thick. “You think I’m cute?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyelids dropping halfway. 

“Mhm,” you purred, your popsicle dripping from the intense heat. “Super cute.”

“Fuck,” Bokuto’s hands hovered above your waist, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “Uh, is it okay if I kiss you? Please, cutie?” he quietly pleaded, your lips basically touching at this point. 

You smiled and nodded, holding your melting popsicle behind your back. “Mhm, it’s okay.”

Bokuto smiled as his lips interlocked with yours for a minute, savoring the sweet passionfruit flavor that coated them. His hands squeezed your waist childishly, never wanting this moment between the two of you to end. This kiss was exactly how he dreamed it would be, soft and perfect. Just like you.

You pulled away after a bit and giggled, your popsicle having since fallen onto the heated pavement. Your sticky hands cupped his face, the pads of your thumbs running over his defined cheekbones. “You’re a good kisser,” you pecked his forehead bravely. “Like, a really good kisser.”

“Same to you, cutie,” his hands left your waist, choosing to instead secure your wrists. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. So. Fucking. Long.”

 A chuckle escaped your lips as your hands fell to your waist again, intertwining your fingers with Bokuto’s. You had never notified it before, but he was much bigger than you. It made you feel safe and secure. Protected. “We should probably get to your house to study, shouldn’t we?” 

“Aw, I was having so much fun kissing you on the sidewalk!” Bokuto pretended to whine, kicking a loose pebble that was in his way. He easily picked up the bags with his spare hand and tossed them over his broad shoulder. 

“Tell you what,” you squeezed his hand. “For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Hell yeah, it does!” Bokuto kissed you on the cheek in excitement. He practically skipped to his house with you in tow, excited for what the rest of the day would have in store.

[zg0nuwa]

Hey, hope you're fine...and i see that you're another fan for Miguel (we are) can you write the father day with his daughter and the reader as his wife please:(?....(i just hate my daddy issues)

★ best dad ever ! ⎯⎯

i don't think you understand how much power you just gave me with this (i had like half of this written already but tumblr crashed and i was one step away from going into my joker era)

miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings ; angsty fluff, i tried experimenting with the spanish but i feel like i failed miserably, lowercase intended, i'm not a spanish speaker so you're free to correct me on the spanish.

miguels work schedule was very unstable. there were times when he would be gone for the whole day and then there were times when he could spend most of the day at home. you understood, for the most part, he had the multiverse on his shoulders no matter how hard you wished for him to have a much less dangerous job. of course not everyone knew why he sometimes had to disappear for long periods of time.

and one of them was your daughter. all she knew was that " daddy does very important things and he has to go but he will always come back ".

this year, fathers day rolled up on a sunday which meant not only your daughter was home but also you. for your husband it was a little more complicated. he woke up in the middle of the night to a notification from lyla about another anomaly going nuts in the wrong universe. you loved the ai but in this particular moment you wanted to explode her with your mind.

" i'll be back before sunset, i promise " with that and a kiss on your forehead he left through the portal in your bedroom.

the next time you woke up that day was because of your daughter. she climbed onto your bed and started to shake you lightly with her small hands.

" mom? where’s daddy? " you opened your eyes to gabi hovering above you with her favorite plush animal pressed close to her chest. she had this disappointed expression on her small face. you knew it was because of miguel being gone. she planned this whole day for him, you even helped her organize everything.

" i’m sorry sweetheart… daddy had to go to work. " you pulled her in so her head was under your chin. she clung to you like a small koala bear as you played with her thick brown hair. definitely his genes.

" but, he promised he'll be back before your bedtime sooo, we can still make something special. what do you say about that? "

after a small argument about who gets the cooking part of preparations, which obviously ended with you being responsible for it, you and gabi got to work. as you were looking through your old mexican cuisine recipe book [ that you definitely didn’t bought only for miguel to feel more at home during meals ] you saw your dughter holding a box of artsy stuff.

" cariño, ¿qué estás haciendo allí? "

" making daddy a poster! it's going to say 'el mejor papa de todos'! " you couldn't help the big smile from appearing on your face. you knew how much time miguel put into teaching gabi spanish and it always warmed your heart when they sat down at the dining table and simply talked in spanish, your husband making little corrections in pronounciation or grammar from time to time. but no matter what he always looked as if he had hearts in his eyes.

★

you knew miguels work schedule was unstable and sometimes took him out of the house for a whole day, and you understood. but gabi not so much. so here you are, 10:48 pm on the clock and no sign of your husband. you spent the past two hours comforting her and promising her that it wasn't miguels fault and that he loved her. finally at around 11 pm she fell asleep in her bed. you turned off the cat shaped nightlamp and as quietly as possible closed the door to her room.

with a heavy sigh you went back to the kitchen to start cleaning everything up. while puting away food into the fridge you heard a specific glitching sound and you already knew who showed up home.

" you're late. " you weren't really mad at him , it was just tiring sometimes.

" i know, i'm sorry love... it's just - things got a little out of control. " you didn’t look at him and his first thought was to come behind you and hug your waist hoping it would make you feel even a little bit better. “ was there something that i forgot about today? is that why you’re angry? “

" i’m not angry, but your daughter is. she planned the whole fathers day for you. "

" ay, coño… " he sounded defeated, tired, and disappointed in himself. you pulled yourself away from him and came up to the poster gabi made, its was rolled in a tube to not spoil anything before the big reveal. you handed it to miguel with a tiny smile on your face. he was a bit confused for a second but he got the memo and rolled out the paper to it’s full extent. you could see the tears forming on his waterline as he chuckled. probably because of the spelling mistake made by gabi that you didn’t have the heart to point out.

" me and gabi made a deal for you, you have take us to the zoo tomorrow, and she demands that you let her piggyback the entire time to repay for your sins. "

" i guess there’s no other option. " he said with a smile.

cariño, ¿qué estás haciendo allí? - honey, what are you doing there?

el mejor papa de todos - the greatest dad ever

ay, coño - oh, fuck

[animeshotsh]

Not Soft | Dark!Viktor x Reader | Arcane AU

Summary: AU - Viktor does not go to the Academy and ends being teached by Singed. 

Warnings: Yandere!Viktor - Mad!Viktor - Dark!Viktor - Mentions of drug use - Mentions of animal abuse - Mutilation - Abuse - Grammar mistakes

Viktor had one line inside his head that forged his life.

"The mutation must survive"

No matter how, if its suffers, how much time, or if the methods used were not ethical. The mutation must survive.

Living under that, Viktor did achive things, he was able to get examples of mother cells from other creatures and use them on himself. Making his illness almost be cured. The shimmer something his mentor had created helped him make his experiments more stable, not only on them but on himself too.

He tried to keep the use to minum not only knowing how terrible it could be, how horrendus the mutation could be, but also how delicious and how good it felt. It was the best drug in Zaun.

But to him, there was a better drug, one that walked, breathed and survived in the hard life that the undercity offered.

You.

Viktor still remembers the day he met you, how you had come to the laboratory under Silco's unders to retrive something.

It was a common thing but you were a new face, your face was had some marks and your eyes had a centrain fire in them.

Something that flinched when Viktor got closer.

It was like you knew he was bad news.

Viktor never prayed himself as the obssesive type, at least not with other peopel. He was quiet and liked to work on his own things.

But you just intriged him.

Everytime you came to the lab he would try and learn more about you. Going as far as to mutilate and re make some Zaun insect that would follow you around giving Viktor signals of where you were.

He soon learned how you lived and moved around the dirty streets. He was also someone who could just know someone by looking at them. And did he look at you, he could tell you were no new to fights, coming with blood on your clothes or skin, you had a birthmark on your right shoulder, something he noticed one time during summer.

You were wary of others, as expected you did not trust anyone and most likely were ready to fight anyone if your live depended of it.

And thats why it was so sweet and good to see you break down.

Getting you as a experiment was complicated to say at least, but with enough will it was a success. His mentor never cared and neither did Silco or whoever knew you.

One day you were gone.

Viktor liked to see you try, see you resist to different trials he would make you go.

He loved giving you his blood. He felt the act as so intimated, he knew a part of him lived inside you and was there forever. Part of DNA was part of you now.

And since his blood was mixed up with shimmer and other animal's cells your body had a interesting reaction.

He almost lost you the first night. The shimmer was too strong and was not letting your body adapt to the new cells. Your body was fighting his blood like it was a virus. Viktor had to make you new, literally. He sedated you and worked on you all night till you were stable and safe.

Viktor expected you to now have some type of ability because of it. And he was right, you showed quick regeneration to any injured he inflicted.

He never liked seeing you in pain but he knew the more pain, the more your body would adapt and survive. So he went on.

He was not sure when your mind did cross a breaking point. Really he had re read his notes but nothing helped.

You did not talk to anyone but him, you were obidient, never causing problems. Your eyes had lost that fire, being replace with a reddish color. These eyes filled Viktor's dreams because they indicated you were his.

You never caused problems while he worked being left to read or feed the other experiments.

Viktor would call you over to have you see the failed experiments, telling you how you could have ended if it wasnt for him, he was your saviour, your god, your only protector.

Even if he was also the mosnter and devil who made you lose your mind and soul, you were now too far gone to even remember it.

"I love you (Y/N)" Viktor said caressing your hair as he injected another new vial on your arm.

He saw you convulse but soon adapt to it, making his theory be right. You were now basically inmune to any type of poison or drug.

"I love you too"

He just needed to test your limits on regenerating your limbs....

[iovebarca]

hi my love!!! i hope ur doing well 💗 i was just wondering if you could maybe do a fluffy tutoring fic with pau x reader? either where reader is tutoring him or he’s tutoring reader. thank you sm!! 💌

Maps, Dates and Crushes - Pau Cubarsi

Authors note: Hey guysss how are we doing??

WC: 1000+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, fluff!

Geography class wasn’t exactly Pau’s strong suit. He was a quick learner on the field, but when it came to memorizing capitals, mountain ranges, and river systems, his brain felt like it was running in circles. That’s exactly why he found himself in this situation: tutoring sessions.

His geography teacher had noticed his struggle and decided to step in.

“Pau, you’ll be working with her,” the teacher had said, nodding towards you. You were the top student in class—smart, confident, and the one who always had the right answers. The girl he’d had a quiet crush on for months but never dared to talk to.

And now, you were his tutor.

It was a dream and a nightmare all at once. On one hand, he’d get to spend time with you, but on the other… well, you’d soon find out just how bad he was at geography.

The first study session was planned for Thursday evening at your house. You had texted him, “Come around six. We’ll get you caught up.”

Pau stood in front of your door at 6 p.m. sharp, trying not to let his nerves show. You opened the door with a smile, dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, looking effortlessly beautiful. He almost forgot to breathe for a second.

“Hey, come in,” you greeted, stepping aside to let him in. “We’ve got a lot to cover, but don’t worry, we’ll pace it out.”

He followed you inside, trying to calm the nervous flutter in his stomach. Your home was cozy and inviting, which helped ease the tension in his shoulders. You led him to the dining table, already covered with textbooks, notebooks, and maps.

“Alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open the geography textbook. “We’ve got time.”

The next two hours flew by in a blur of maps, highlighters, and your explanations. Pau tried to focus, but it was hard not to get distracted by how effortlessly smart and confident you were. You made geography seem easy, breaking down complex ideas in a way he could actually understand.

At 8:30, you paused, leaning back in your chair. “Okay, we’ve made good progress. How about a break?”

“Yeah, I could use one,” Pau admitted with a sheepish grin.

You reached for your phone, casually pulling up Uber Eats. “What do you feel like eating? I was thinking burgers and fries. Or is that too risky for your diet?”

Pau chuckled, caught off guard by how thoughtful you were. “I mean, I am supposed to be watching what I eat for football…”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing him a little. “So, no burgers then?”

He hesitated for a second, then grinned. “I think I can handle a burger. Just this once.”

You smiled back, happy with his answer. “Good, because there’s no way I’m surviving this study session without fries.”

You placed the order, and soon enough, the two of you were digging into your food while talking about everything other than geography. It was surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm with Pau—he wasn’t just the quiet, shy guy you saw in class. He had a sense of humor, and when he relaxed, you found that you really liked talking to him.

By the time you finished eating and went back to studying, it was almost 10 p.m. Pau tried his best to stay focused, but you noticed him sneaking glances at you every so often. The way his gaze would linger on you for just a moment too long made your heart race.

And that’s when it hit you. He likes me.

Your own heart fluttered at the realization. Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he asked you questions or the way his eyes sparkled whenever you smiled at him. Suddenly, the idea of this being a simple tutor-student situation felt a lot more complicated—and a lot more exciting.

By 11 p.m., the study session was winding down. You had gone through most of the material, and Pau seemed a lot more confident than when he had first walked in. He started packing up his books, but there was a hesitancy in the air, like he wasn’t quite ready to leave.

“Well,” you said, standing up and stretching, “I think you’re going to ace the next test. You’ve really improved, Pau.”

“Thanks to you,” he said with a shy smile, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He lingered by the door for a moment, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.

There was a long pause, the silence between you charged with something unspoken. You could feel it hanging in the air.

“So, um…” Pau began, his voice low, “I was wondering if… maybe you’d like to go out sometime?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Like… a study date?”

Pau’s face turned a little red, and he quickly shook his head. “No, not a study date. I mean, like, an actual date. Just… the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the realization hitting you all at once. Pau Cubarsí—quiet, sweet Pau—was asking you on a real date.

A slow smile spread across your face, warmth flooding your chest. “You want to go on a real date with me?”

He nodded, his eyes soft but hopeful. “Yeah, I do. If you want to, I mean.”

“I’d love that,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush with excitement. “How about this weekend?”

“That’d be perfect,” he replied, his whole face lighting up.

For a moment, you just stood there, both of you grinning like idiots. And then, before he could leave, you stepped closer and gave him a soft, quick hug. Pau’s heart raced as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

When you pulled back, you gave him a playful smile. “And don’t worry, we’ll avoid burgers this time. Just in case.”

Pau laughed, his nerves melting away. “Yeah, I’ll stick to salads.”

You both shared a quiet laugh, the air between you lighter and full of promise. And as Pau left your house that night, he couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could you.

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made Of Glass ch.14

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

This chapter is the concept of idiots in love.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 14

The thing about love

The world was in complete turmoil.

Norway became the home to non-secret agencies trying to discover what had shaken the foundations of the city while taking its inhabitants into a virtual reality prison. SWORD had taken over the investigation overlooked by Monica Rambeau and the newest director of the reformed SHIELD, Tony Stark.

For some members of the SWORD team, it was Wanda Maximoff the obvious author of such disaster, but for some others the truth might be slightly more complicated. It was easier to blame the one that had been on the run before the Blip and then come back to enslave a group of people in a fantasy world.

Natasha Romanoff knew the situation was far more complicated that what everyone kept on spitting out in the conference room. She left after it was quite evident no one knew what to do, or what was really going on.

The cold breeze from the outside came rushing through the door, she shivered blinking away the blinding white from the snow covering the land. The houses in the distance had been repaired and people was going back their normal lives. The world didn't stop before the hex and it didn't stop now that it was over and two former Avengers, one powered teen and a witch disappeared.

“Still nothing?” Carol Danvers came walking down a makeshift road, she was wearing different clothing but the perpetual frown of inadequacy and concern was still there.

“Nothing useful.” Natasha stepped forward welcoming the crispy texture of the snow under her feet. “They kept on babbling about who to blame, while Tony, Bruce and Strange are trying to find a way to open a portal to the right universe.”

Carol huffed approaching the brunette, “the right universe? That may take centuries! This is something out of our scope,”

“And that's why we have to be patient.” But even as she said this, Natasha glanced with apprehension towards the bunker then back to the direction where Y/N house was located.

Time was passing slowly but surely and still there was not a single workable plan to bring you and the others back. Whatever magic or powers had acted during the attack from Scarlet and Agatha it had left no traces to be followed, it was as if you and the others had disappeared into existence. 

Carol dropped her head, her arms wrapping around herself trying to contain the frustration she had been experimenting for quite some time. Natasha looked at her out of the corner of her eye, the blond-haired woman was standing small with the sight of the mountains and the white of the snow behind her, those dark eyes had never stopped glancing back at your home while her power flickered restlessly around her. Natasha knew your relationship with Carol was complicated, it had been for quite some time. The other woman had reached out to you in the hopes to be with you, Natasha had seen the countless invitations to travel through the universe with Carol as well as seen those stares filled with longing that you usually missed.

The door behind her opened and closed, a couple of soldiers left the protective barrier of the bunker to share a smoke. Natasha cocked her head frowning, her thoughts going back to you and the recent complications in your life.

The return of Wanda had been a surprise, not only for you but for everyone. Natasha sighed lifting her eyes to the sky, when did their life's turn so complicated?

“You're thinking too hard,” Yelena approached her sister, the bags under her eyes the only evidence she hadn't had a good night's sleep since your disappearance.

“I am thinking enough.” Natasha replied, Yelena hummed standing beside her eying Carol before settling her eyes on Natasha.

“Why is it so difficult to have any leads?” Yelena grunted, kicking the snow under her feet.

“Apparently is not easy to find the right universe they went through,” it was Carol the one who answered, her voice dripping sarcasm, “I guess there is nothing we can do but…”

“Wait?” Yelena shook her head, “I'm tired of waiting.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, she opened her mouth ready to answer when the air and earth around her started to shake. She frowned positioning her feet on the ground, flexing her knees and lifting her arms to her chest height. Yelena took the same fighting position while Carol stood straightened up with her eyes focused on the spot where a small whirlpool of sand was moving fast on the ground. Electric waves projected blue and silver lights through the air, while the sound of a vacuum filled the silence of the plain.

The commotion brought everyone to the spot where the two widows and Captain Marvel were standing. Tony put on his metal glove with Strange lifting his hands ready to form a shield. With an explosion a portal in the form of a five-pointed star appeared out of thin air and three people came falling on their faces just before the portal closed.

Just as sudden as the event had come, it went away leaving everyone open-mouthed, shaking with eyes wide opened watching the three women now standing in front of them. 

You smiled sheepishly scratching the back of your head, your eyes going from Tony to Carol then falling on Yelena and Natasha. The tension was quite evident, and the silence that followed the explosion could be broken by the fall of a single needle.

Wanda came right in with America closed behind, the cold of Norway sneaked inside your clothes making you shivered but you did not move. You knew the moment you crossed the portal you would find everyone waiting, you never imagined Carol or even Tony would be there.

Before you could do or say anything Carol came right at you, her frown softening just as her eyes twinkled with emotion. 

“Y/N?” Her name on her lips made you smile, though a sudden grip of pure coldness grasped your heart and a heavy weight settled on your stomach.

“Hey, Marv.” 

Carol didn't even wait for a confirmation or more words, her arms wrapped around you holding you with the desperation Carol had felt in the last couple of days and all the love she had always felt for you.

The tension broke, and soon voices could be heard though you were too lost into the embrace to make out any meaning behind the conversations, or to even notice the saddened figure of Wanda who was standing just behind you with her arms around her and defeat written all over her face.

____________________________

A part of you knew what was waiting at the other side.

You were really surprised to see Carol there, but what really caught you off of guard was the hostility with which many were treating Wanda and America. You knew some of the agents from SWORD were quite reluctant to accept any innocent claims coming from Wanda, they had been under the hex and had experimented firsthand the emotions and mental manipulation the witch had imposed upon them.

Their anger could be understood if not justified.

However, as soon as the three of you were free from the hugs and welcomes from everyone else, you were taken into custody to start the normal procedure of investigation. You had been lucky enough to have Natasha and Carol with you, their interrogation always going back to what had happened, where were you and how you came back.

It was a tiresome day, but by the time a new morning came you were happy to discover you were given a nice breakfast and a couple of explanations of what happened after you disappeared. You were tired of talking, too many memories, and too many thoughts invaded your head and it wasn’t until Yelena and Natasha put a violent stop to all the questioning that the agents from SWORD and SHIELD didn’t let go of you.

You rubbed your shoulders glancing at your reflection, the woman staring back at you was looking tired though she was also slightly sad. You sighed putting a strand of hair behind your ear while fixing the shirt you had put on, with a last glance to your reflection you left the bathroom only to stop startle at the woman waiting for you on the bed.

Carol Danvers had not changed too much.

The both of you had not seen one another for over six months. You had been tied to earth, while Carol was still trying to make of the universe a better place to live on. The both of you had clashed more than once, and passion had been the main rule in the relationship you two shared; but words of love and tenderness were scarce and sometimes whispered in the hidden shadows of the night.

Carol sighed lowering her gaze to the floor before lifting her chin to stare at you.

“How are you feeling?” She finally asked though this was not what she wanted to say.

“I’m better, I guess. Tired, and hungry.” You offered a smile approaching the other woman until you were standing right in front of her.

Your hand lifted to brush away her golden hair, Carol closed her eyes leaning into your touch while letting herself feel the closeness of your body. At some point she had been desperate to break into the hex to get to you, to save you from the clutches of an ex-lover you seemed to carry everywhere you went. Now that you were there in front of her, Carol felt you had gone to a place she could not follow.

It was at that moment, Carol realized she had fallen in love with you.

“Quite the adventure you have, eh?” Carol chuckled shaking her head, her hand grabbing yours. “I can’t hardly believe you were in another universe.”

You winced holding yourself from putting your hand away, “yeah, it was kind of crazy.”

“Which part?” Carol asked, and this time around she couldn’t hide the reproach on her voice nor the jealousy she had felt when she found out Wanda had been with you all this time.

“Everything, carol, everything was kind of crazy.” You hardened your tone, stepping back only to be stopped by the other woman.

“I’m sorry, I just…” Carol trailed off, and you let out a shaky sigh.

“Look, it was not easy, okay? First I got into a body that was not even mine, in a world I didn’t even recognize, to a live I never thought would be mine.” You lifted a hand to the back of your neck. “Then I come here to face an interrogation that took most of the day and night only for you guys to find out that yes, this is me. And yes, the multiverse does exist.”

“I was scared.” Carol finally stated. “As soon as I came here, you were gone then they started telling me all these stories about Wanda and the hex, and then how everything was just the same here, and…”

Both of you fell silent for a moment, your heart beating painfully inside your chest. You knew it wasn’t Carol’s fault, and you knew the one who was all defensive was you. You felt guilty because you had allowed your emotions to take over your reason and that might get the woman sitting in front of you hurt.

“I’m glad you’re back, and I’m glad you’re cleared of any wrongdoing, now that Wanda is under custody…”

“Wait, what?” You stopped Carol mid-sentence, Carol was left slightly confused just as she noticed the sudden hardening of your stare. “What do you mean that Wanda is under custody?”

This time around Carol couldn’t hide her annoyance, she stood up crossing her arms.

“It was quite obvious, wasn’t it? She had a history of creating these strange hexes, then she came here with a girl that can travel through the multiverse, whatever she was trying to achive…”

“It wasn’t Wanda’s fault.” You stated forcefully, Carol scowled rolling her eyes.

“Right, now you’re on her side?”

“I’m not…” You took a deep breath, “I’m not on her side, Carol, but didn’t you hear my story?”

“Quite frankly, I only heard the part in which you found out those twins of hers were actually yours and not Vision’s. In another Universe, not this one.”

The moment those words left her mouth, Carol knew she had said the wrong thing. Your whole body went completely rigid, and your eyes flashed a dangerous black twinkle that sent shivers down Carol’s back.

“I am not happy about the whole situation either, Carol. But I am not going to blame someone that had nothing to do with what happened here, or even Westview.” You straightened up walking past Carol to grab your jacket. “Now, I will go to straighten everything up, even if I have to break her out of jail and fight whoever I have to.”

“Don’t leave.” Carol wrapped her arms around your waist, she pressed her forehead against the back of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You were breathing hard, the anger boiling inside your veins while her words resounded inside your head. It wasn’t so much of what Carol had said, but actually the real meaning behind those words. Everything had happened so fast, everything had been so overwhelming that you hadn’t had the time to think, to process everything that had happened. You were trying to stop your spiralling world, but every time you got a chance to stand still something came rushing in to shake you again.

A part of you knew Carol was not to blame, not completely. You were looking for an excuse, for something to make you feel better and not as shitty as you were feeling at the moment because of the confusion you were experimenting. For the love you still held for Wanda, while your affection for Carol was not enough.

You turned around wrapping your arms around her, your lips found hers and soon the both of you were giving in the passion you always felt around one another. Carol held onto you with the need of a thirsty woman, and you held onto her with the desperation to quiet down your thoughts and doubts. The kiss turned into a full make-out session that led to Carol straddling your lap on the bed; your hand sneaked under her winter jumper her skin warm under your fingertips, twitching with every single caress.

“Y/N.” Your name left her lips in a needy whisper, and all it took for you was to hear your voice to know you had to stop.

You leaned back placing a single hand on her shoulder and the other one on her hips stopping the thrusting of her hips. She was slightly dizzy, her cheeks flustered with her pupils dilated, she had a silly smile on her lips nuzzling her nose on your neck. You tried to return the smile but couldn’t instead you brush her cheek with the back of your hand, leaning into place a single kiss on her forehead.

“What are you doing?” She finally realized you had stopped; you were trying to get away from her while being as gently as you could.

You opened your mouth to confess, to actually come clean and tell Carol how what you were doing with her was not fair. But the blond-haired woman put a single finger on your lips, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I just have to go back.” You said placing your hands on her hips, “if what you’re telling me is how things turned out to be I have to intervene, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Carol shifted standing up and moving away from you, she cocked her head shrugging.

“I guess is not, if Wanda did help you out and was not even involve in the whole fiasco it is not fair to pay for everything.” Carol didn’t leave out of her comment the partial fault that the other woman had, at least for what had happened back in Westview.

“Will you come with me?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Carol shook her head placing her hands inside the pockets of her jeans.

“No, I think I will wait here for you.”

There was nothing else you could say, and if she were to be honest Carol didn’t want to hear any more explanations. The blond-haired woman leaned in pecking you on the lips before nodding towards the door of your room.

“Go on, be a hero.”

You chuckled nodding briefly before putting on your jacket and leaving the room.

Carol stood inside your room for a long time, she leaned back against the dresser while her eyes fell upon the picture of you with Natasha and Yelena resting on the bedside table. Carol had known from the moment she laid eyes on you that a relationship with you would be dangerous, you had always been quite reserved and kept yourself out of any emotional attachment. Carol had been stubborn, curious as to what really was behind your cold façade only to discover a smart and funny woman behind it. She had fallen in love with your smile, your wit, and the way you always seemed to find the bright side of things even though your perception of your own life was quite poor.

Natasha had warned Carol about your broken heart, she had told Carol how difficult it was for you to actually open up to love again. But at that point Carol would take whatever you were willing to offer; she never thought there would be a time in which she would need to give up her relationship with you.

With a last glance to the picture, she turned around and left the room.

Love was a complicated it deal.

_________________________________________________

Yelena could sense your anger even before she could see you approaching the bunker.

From the very beginning she had been opposed to the idea of keeping America and Wanda in holding cells like common criminals. What happened in Norway had not been their fault, they had come all the way to the city seeking protection and help, and that was exactly what Y/N, Natasha and Yelena had done. America was a teen just getting the ropes of her powers, while Wanda…well, with Wanda things were complicated it. But at the end of the day, she was not a bad person. She just had really bad luck.

Yelena cleared her throat glancing at Natasha who was on her feet as soon as she sensed your presence. You were coming with silent rage, your whole-body trembling stretching your powers to the shadows inside the room. Two agents came at you, ready to stop you but were unable to move their feet from the ground.

“Took you long enough.” Yelena said looking at her nails, you snorted stepping closer until she saw Wanda on a chair being held with some sort of necklace on her neck.

“Well, no one told me about this, so it was kind of hard to come before Carol let it slip.” Your fists clenched close, Natasha stood by your side pointing to the cameras and then to the two agents questioning Wanda.

“She is going to be charged.”

“With what?” You replied shaking your head, “where the hell is Tony? Why is he allowing this? I thought he has some jurisdiction in these situations…”

“He does.” Natahsa stated softening her stare, “that’s why he is not here.”

You scowled glancing at her then at Yelena, you opened and closed your mouth several times before pointing a finger at them.

“You allowed this to happen?” The rage you were feeling increased, but before you could say anything else Yelena came from behind you.

“Wanda did.” Yelena glanced at you then at the woman being held inside the room, the questions and the gestures of her jailers becoming increasingly demanding and aggressive.

“What?” This time around you were confused, Natasha softened her features knowing that you had been confused ever since Wanda came back into your life.

“You have to understand that whatever happened to you three, Wanda feels responsible for most of it. She took her responsibility since she was not allowed to do so before.”

Natasha could see how your processed her words, she grabbed your hand in hers squeezing lightly.

“But it wasn’t her fault, Agatha…”

“Agatha disappeared, remember?” Yelena continued, this time around you understood there was nothing else you could say, you could suddenly read there was more at play than just Wanda turning herself over.

Natasha and Yelena were not in the room by chance, you looked out of the corner of your eye the guards still struggling against the invisible ropes holding them on place. When you turned over to the room, your blood boiled in anger knowing that as always there was a hidden agenda trying to get a hold of powered individuals. This time around they had set their eyes on Wanda, who wouldn’t want to change the world around them? To get a hold of an individual that could take your through the multiverse, the power to shape the world to your licking.

“I hope Tony has pretty good lawyers.” You stated before moving past Natasha, your hand lifted pointing at the door of the interrogation room and pushing hard until the door crushed the wall at the other side of the room.

“Agent Schultz, I hope I am not interrupting anything important.”

__________________________________________________________

Wanda wondered not for the first time how much hatred and revenge people could harbour in their hearts.

When she first broke the hex from Westview, she could see the fear in the eyes of the citizens as well as in the eyes of those agents she had captured at some point. She remembered the demands for her arrest, the harsh wording in which they were demanding for her to be imprisoned or at least held tightly unable to use her powers.

It had hurt, it was Lagos all over again.

The accusations never left, and the mistrust in some of the people’s eyes had always been there. It never went away, and Wanda had always been looked at with fear, resentment, and pity; she had tried her best, even with Steve by her side, it was impossible to get past such negative sentiments and thus she had decided to just keep to herself.

“What do you have to say, Maximoff.” The agent pointed to the file with his index finger, the agent to his side playing with a black gadget. “This would be, what? Your third time trying to break into the natural order of things and use your powers to…what exactly?”

The collar tightly wrapped around her neck sent jolts of electricity through her neck, shoulders and arms. It wasn’t the first time she was subject to such a gadget, and the memory was still burned deep inside her mind while the pain felt extremely familiar. Wanda held onto her emotions with as much dignity as she could muster, she could feel her power build up inside her ready to explode and let the men in the room why messing up with a witch like her was a mistake.

She was not about to show them she was the monster everyone believed her to be.

So even through the pain, and the questions that repeated themselves Wanda held herself proud and calm, hoping that Tony and Strange would keep their word and get her out of there without any physical fight.

“I think agent Cho asked you a question, Maximoff.” The black-haired man holding the switch of the collar asked leaning forward. “We need answers, what else can you give us?”

“Nothing else, agent Schultz, I already told your superiors everything they need to know.” Wanda clenched her jaw, her lips trembling lightly when another shot of electricity went through her neck and limbs.

“You are answering to us right now, Maximoff.”

“You were telling us about a different universe, tell us exactly what—” Agent Schultz stopped talking when the hinges from the door gave with a crashing sound and then the door exploded around them.

Wanda never entertained the idea of you coming in her aid.

In her mind, she had always thought you were happy with her gone, after all, that had been the deal when this whole ordeal started. She sat straightened up on the chair, her eyes to the door where you stood up with blackened eyes and silent anger all over your features.

“Agent Schultz, I hope I am not interrupting anything important.”

“Y/N! This is not going to be…” The man trailed of making gagging sounds at the black hand wrapping around his throat.

“I thought everything had been cleared out when I was taken into custody and given my testimony, I don’t understand why Wanda and America are being held under such deplorable conditions.” You pushed the agent back stepping closer to Cho who was trying to get the black switch while looking for his gun.

“I don’t think so, pal.” Yelena stepped on the wrist of the man smiling down on him. “I was waiting all day to do this.”

“Why didn’t you?” You replied crushing the device while approaching Wanda, your eyes locked with hers.

“And taking away from you the chance to save the damsel in distress? No way.” Yelena chuckled cuffing Agent Cho.

You snorted grabbing the collar while locking eyes with Wanda, the young witch didn’t say anything but her cheeks coloured red and her lips curled slightly. You winked t her, unable to help yourself before opening the device making a gesture of disgust.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice was but a whisper, Wanda shifted on the chair letting go of the breath she had been holding ever since she had been incarcerated.

“What could I have said to them?” She replied watching as Natasha and Yelena started barking orders around the bunker.

“Perhaps, that you are one of the good guys?” You could see the flicker of doubt in those green eyes, Wanda lowered her gaze lifting her brows.

“Am I?” She dropped her shoulders, her lips trembling as she continued, “I made a lot of mistakes, Y/N, I’m just trying to pay for them.”

You pursed your lips, this was not the first time you heard such words coming from Wanda and while at first you thought it was the minimum she could do after all the pain she caused you; right now all you could think was to take away the pain and loneliness that seemed to be written into those green irises.

“You have paid for them, Wanda, you don’t need to punish yourself anymore.” Without thinking too much about your own actions, the back of your hand brushed tenderly on Wanda’s cheek just before your fingertips traced the marks left by the collar.

“I still think there is a lot I have to pay for, perhaps…once I have paid off my debt you…” Wanda trailed off unable to continue, you opened your mouth to ask Wanda what she meant, what she wanted to say but before you could do it another set of footsteps came rushing in and soon the both of you were engulfed by the arms of a teenager.

“Y/N! Wanda! You guys are okay!”

Wanda hugged America back, her eyes locking with yours for a moment. Your heart skipped a beat, your hand finding hers in a single touch that lasted long enough to leave you yearning for more; Wanda from her part got hope ignited inside her heart, and once more, wish she was brave enough to do what Scarlet asked of her. To fight for you, to not let go.

To let herself be loved by you.

____________________________________________________

America had never lived so much in so little time.

For a moment, when she could finally stop to take a breath, she felt as if years had passed and she had been thrown into a rollercoaster that took her from open danger to the next one without giving her the chance to assimilate everything that had happened.

That was until she had reached your universe.

Yours and Wanda’s.

America took a sip from the hot chocolate she had been offered, the room was filled with some agents and civilians, all of whom were just grateful that everything was over and life was going back to normal. Or as normal as it could be in a world filled with powered people and aliens running around the universe; America pursed her lips, knowing full well that after Y/N had come to pull her and Wanda out of the interrogation cells something of great importance happened for soon SWORD and SHIELD left.

No questions asked, no more attempts to capture and incarcerate Wanda or herself.

America let her eyes wandered around the room until she noticed Wanda on the far corner of the room. The young woman was alone, with her eyes gleaming with deep emotion she was trying to conceal behind the locks of hair and the glass she took to her mouth every five seconds. With a frown, America followed the stare from Wanda only to see you at the other side of the room.

Unlike the woman she had been back in the other universe, or whenever she had to fight, this Wanda was looking defeated. It was not hard to know why, you were laughing allowing an intimate caress and hold from Carol Danvers who was whispering something into your ear while Natasha rolled her eyes.

You looked happy, completely taken by the blond while Wanda remained in the shadows.

“They are complicated.” Yelena stood by America’s side, her accent dripping through every word.

America pursed her lips shaking her head, “I don’t understand why it is so complicated.”

Wanda’s attention was soon claimed by Tony, the man sat beside her talking slowly with gestures of his hands ensuring the young woman was really paying attention to him. At that moment, your attention drifted to her, your eyes softening slightly while your body turned completely ready to make your way towards her. A hand on yours stopped any movement, and while it looked as if your attention was claimed once more, you couldn’t help but look back to where Wanda was conversing with Tony.

“It is not so easy to forget and forgive,” Yelena shrugged following with her eyes the same scene America had been watching all afternoon. “They had been badly hurt, I don’t know much about Wanda, but Y/N was really hurt by the cheating. She felt as if no one could love her anymore.”

America winced for the very first time understanding where your anger came from, sometimes people ignored what others were experiencing and they forget that the pain and trauma was personal and not just something that could be turned on or off at will.

“But they are still in love with one another, isn’t it obvious to them?” America let out a heavy sigh, “it should be easier, after all this time…”

Yelena snorted this time around she turned to face America.

“You really think love is enough?” This time around Yelena’s eyes softened slightly, it was quite strange to find someone so innocent yet so hardened by the circumstances she had lived.

“It should be, right?” America hesitated chewing on her lower lip, “I mean, if love is not enough then, why are we doing what we do? Save people, save the world.”

It should be that easy, Yelena agreed. Yet she understood why it was so complicated, the former Widow could see your hesitation, the tension in your body for staying beside Carol while the longing in your eyes revealed your real intentions. You wanted to go to Wanda, just as Wanda wanted to go to you ever since you had rescued her from the interrogation room.

Love should be enough.

And now, all they had to proof this theory was time.

But time was not enough, and sooner or later, you and Wanda would need to decide what you really want and what you were ready to give and sacrifice.

++++

“I heard you were saved by Y/N.” Tony sat beside Wanda following the stare of the young woman until his eyes found the form of Y/N. “She came in, broke the door and scare shitless those Agents before putting you out of harm’s way.”

Wanda blushed trying to hide away her expression, she couldn’t help but turn her attention back at you. It had been a moment she had treasured in her mind, the soft caress of your fingers while your words reached the deepest of her soul. She never imagined anyone would come to her rescue, much less the very same woman she had hurt so much in the past, yet here you were ready to break havoc as long as Wanda was fine.

“S-she did what any of you would have done.” Wanda glanced at Tony who merely snorted shaking his head.

“We left you with them, didn’t we?” Tony leaned back letting his eyes wandered to the window, his voice just above a whisper meant for Wanda only. “Everything has been straightened up, you have been cleared of any charges and if you want to, you can come back with me to the State or stay here…whatever you prefer.”

Wanda huffed shaking her head, “I am clear? Just like that?”

Tony shrugged, Wanda narrowed her eyes at the man pressing her lips together.

“What did you do?”

“What I should have done a long time ago, Wanda.” Tony leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “You have suffered enough, I think after everything you went through in the past, and what happened recently with Westview and America, I think you deserve a rest.”

When Tony saw the hesitation in Wanda he placed a hand on top of hers, squeezing tenderly onto her hand.

“It is time for you to be happy, Wanda. There is nothing else to it, but a chance that this universe is giving you to be happy.” Tony offered a smile, his eyebrows wiggling playfully while his eyes were pointing to you. “I’m not saying is gonna be easy, and it probably won’t end where you want it to end, but it is worth a try.”

“She is already happy, and she is with someone else. I just…I’m happy for her, I don’t think I will be bothering her anymore.” Wanda whispered with her heart breaking inside her chest.

The woman tried to be strong, while also feeling a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying lifted when Tony finished his speech.

“I want to thank you for what you did, even though you did leave me on that interrogation room.”

“It was for a good cause, believe me.” Tony clasped his hands in front of him, furrowing his brows with his eyes following your every move.

Even if Wanda refused to see it, it was quite evident for everyone all you wanted to do was to go to where Wanda was sitting. Your eyes had barely left the young woman before her attention was claimed by Carol, though the Captain was not being successful in her mission. It seemed as if you had eyes only for Wanda.

“I think you should speak with her, Wanda. This time around without missions, or the past getting in the way.” Tony finally spoke, making sure Wanda could no pretend she wasn’t listening. “You two lived quite the adventure in this other universe, and believe when I tell you, whenever you get a chance to see the life you could have, the love you could share, the children you could have…well, your life changes completely. Talk to her.”

Wanda couldn’t help but glance at Tony with a new hint of respect behind her green eyes. She had known the playboy, as well as the businessman and the Avenger; she had seen many faces of Tony Stark but this parental one was the one she loved the most. Wanda wished she could be as optimistic as he was, that she could see what everyone was seeing; but she couldn’t and her heart was not ready to take in another wave of heartbreak.

“I will do it but, I need a favour.” Wanda said with her mind already deciding on her course of action.

“Whatever you want, little witch.”

Wanda smiled sadly at the nickname, she turned to you and with a last, longing stare she turned to Tony with a request that left the man highly surprised and confused; behind such a request, Tony could make himself an idea on how the conversation between Wanda and yourself would end up in.

He couldn’t help but feel sad.

Tony had always thought you and Wanda were meant to be together, that the love you hold for one another could work miracles.

Now, all he had was a hopeless hope that you would let go of the past, and that Wanda would not let go of the present.

_______________________________________________

Wanda woke up with a gasp.

She was breathing hard, cold sweat rolling down her face and back. Her breathing laboured, burning her lungs trying to regulate itself while the images invading her mind stumbled one after the other. 

There was not a single noise around her, the room was filled with darkness, to her left she could see the flash of a reflection in the window leading to the backyard. The white dots of snow falling, breaking the otherwise blackened night; even though she could tell it was a cold night, her room felt warm. Unbearable warmth.

She lifted a hand to her face, touching with her fingertips the tears wetting her cheeks. Wanda wrapped her arms around her legs, putting them towards her chest, placing her forehead on her knees. The dream had been so vivid, she could see every single scene playing inside her head, her last chance slipping away through her fingers and she was still unable to do anything at all.

Her dreams had been plagued with the memories of Westview and the Blip, she had seen as you slipped away only to come back filled with hatred turning your back on her while walking away with Carol by your side. Her dream had shifted at that moment, and she was back in The Raft tied to a wall with a collar that held her in place while sending electric shocks that made her feel a blinding pain. You were there, laughing with Tommy and Billy glaring at her while asking you to leave Wanda behind.

Wanda held back a sob trying to put the memories of the nightmare away from her head. She tried to get a hold of herself, taking deep breaths while putting together a set of memories that soothe her soul. Tommy and Billy were the first ones that came to mind, her children had been real; they had existed in the way Wanda had imagine them at first, with you by her side rasing them as your own. Wanda couldn’t help but smile when these memories came with a set of pictures she had seen back in the other universe, the both of you had really gone through a lot of hardships, but always together.

Wanda broke into a half-smile remembering the sweet smell of your perfume, the aroma that was unique yours when she woke up in the hospital. The conversation Wanda held with you, while the shared company and closeness gave Wanda hope that things would be different; Wanda lifted her face trying to hold onto the tears while she finally remembered how you came into the interrogation room and pulled her out of the shackles that had been trying to hold her while she was being interrogated.

Wanda remembered that moment, her heart had fluttered with hope when you stood up for her. She had almost melted away when you grabbed her hand leading her to the closest room before offering a half-smile. Wanda had dared to hope until Carol Danvers came right in and you were swept away almost right away.

With a heavy heart, and tired limbs Wanda stood from the bed. Her throat was dry, hurting just enough for her to look for some water hoping she would be protected by the dark of the night and the tiredness everyone in the house was feeling early into the evening.

The house was just as silent as her room, and the darkness was only broken by the strange appearance of a silver moon that came along with snow. Her naked feet made a tapping sound, leading her way into the kitchen, the cold of the night finally reaching out her heated skin making her shiver. She furrowed her brows wrapping her arms tightly around her body until she finally reached the kitchen.

Wanda stopped dead on her tracks when her eyes found those of yours sitting at the table. Her heart skipped a beat, while her lower abdomen filled with butterflies, but with all of this it also came the shadow of her reality. Her eyes dropped to a spot on the floor, her mind and soul pulsating trying to get her to say or do something. The part of her she had shut was stirring restlessly inside her.

She didn't expect to find anyone in the kitchen much less you wearing nothing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Hey, couldn't sleep?” You placed your arms on the table, steam coming out of the mug you had in front of you.

Wanda was not looking so well, you noticed. Ever since you got back she had been all quiet, standing as an outsider while facing interrogation and examinations before joining the celebrations.  You couldn't help but notice how far away she looked, yet how close she wanted to be. She was looking just as confused and lonely as she had been the first day she got to your place, your heart shrank painfully thinking about her. 

 “I was thirsty, that's all.” She stated pointing with her finger at the counter, “I'll have some water and then…”

She wiggled her fingers trying to look everywhere but at you, her feet taking her hurriedly to the counter only to crash against one of the chairs. You were on her in a second, your arms holding her softly, smiling amusedly at her. Wanda looked mortified, her cheeks burning red and her hands trembling, unable to stay still while touching your arms.

“Sorry, I didn't see where I was going, I just…” you furrowed your brows, letting Wanda push you away while making her way to the counter.

“That's okay.” You went back to your previous position, frowning at the mug.

The silence that followed was broken only by the running water and the sound of glass being moved away. You grabbed your mug, taking a long sip from your tea, not moving a single muscle as you heard Wanda pouring the water and taking long sips from the glass. 

Wanda dropped her eyes to the sink, she didn't expect to find you in the kitchen but now that you were there she wanted to scream. She wanted to wrap her arms around you, she wanted to hold onto the memories she had of you two being young and in love, as well as to hold onto the life that could be hers if she hadn't messed up.

But she held herself, her knuckles going white for how hard she was holding onto the edge of the sink. She was too late, always too late.

No! You told me you will fight back, that you won't give up on her!

Scarlet's voice resounded inside Wanda’s mind but the young witch shook her head. She wanted you to be happy, and Wanda was not sure she was the person to make you happy. You had moved on whereas Wanda had tried to hold onto hope.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump startled. She turned around to see you standing there with your empty cup and concern flashing in your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, just…” Wanda sighed offering a shaky smile, “I guess I'm still shaking after the interrogation. I never got to thank you for backing me up.”

You offered a tiny smile, shrugging as if it had been nothing when you knew it had been everything for you.

“It wasn't fair how they were treating you, Wands. You did nothing wrong and people should stop acting as if you did.” Your replied was directed to what had happened recently, though you could see the weight of the memories inside Wanda's eyes.

“Some things were my fault.” Her voice dropped, her heart was beating fast at your closeness, the hand you still had on her shoulder.

“Some things we cannot change, nor can we control. Stop beating yourself up for that.” You wanted to add something else, but just as Wanda, you were confused.

Everything that had happened was overwhelming, it forced you to face a past you couldn't forget, it put you and your feelings for Wanda on the spot. It made you question why you were never able to forge a real relationship with anybody, and why watching what could have been in another world hurt the deepest part of your soul and heart.

You were still in love with Wanda.

But things were complicated.

“I guess you're right.” Wanda offered a crooked smile, she stepped away from your touch looking away from you. “I still have nightmares.”

Her admission broke your stance, you lifted a hand to her face brushing away some locks of hair while looking directly into her green eyes.

“That's the reason why you are shaking right now?” You asked in a whisper, your hand warm against Wanda's cold skin. “That's why you woke up?”

Wanda closed her eyes, weak under your touch and tenderness. She tried to answer, but you stepped closer and all her thoughts and reasoning left her weak on the knees. You softened your features, leaning in until your warm breath brushed against the skin of her neck and ears.

“I'm sorry you still have nightmares about it.”

“It's not your fault.” Wanda finally answered, her voice shaking. She lifted her left hand wrapping it around your hand. “Y/N…”

It was the tone of voice that broke the spell, you frowned stepping back a little. Wanda seemed relieved, though also disappointed, her green eyes begging you to not play with her. 

“Have you ever thought about what would happen…” Wanda started but you cut her off with a gesture.

“All the time, when I'm alone and I cannot quiet down my thoughts.”

“Are we happy in your thoughts?” Wanda knew she was not being fair with her questioning, but she needed it to know.

She needed hope 

“We are.”

Wanda leaned back trying to smile but coming off like a grimace.

“That's good.”

“Have you ever thought…” You started but Wanda was even faster than you on her answer.

“Yes, every single day.”

You tilted your head furrowing your brows with squinted eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“There hasn't been a day I haven't thought about you, about what could be.” This time around it was her the one that stepped back, she couldn't take her eyes off of you. “I hoped at some point I could win you back and perhaps everything would be back to normal.”

“Things cannot go back to how they were, Wands.” You tried to soften the harshness of your voice with the nickname but it didn't work.

Wanda winced looking down at her feet, she grabbed the counter with her hands her back to the wall and a single rute of scape available to her. 

“I know.” Wanda whispered, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “That was the moment I thought of Westview, I just…”

In the last couple of days, you had learnt so much about her and yourself that a part of you understood why Wanda had done what she did. Now it was easy to understand why Vision and not you had shown into the picture, why Wanda needed to be weakened mentally and physically before Agatha could do as much damage as she was allowed to before taken over. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you took your time looking at Wanda. Your eyes went from her naked feet, wiggling fingers trying to get warm to her legs covered by a single pyjama pants and a sweater, her face was pale with bags under her eyes that had always shone with sadness in them. Her hair was long, a little unkept, as if she had woken up, a copper-like colour that had always suited her complexion. Wanda was beautiful, and our heart twisted pleasantly at the sight your hands twitching at your side wanting nothing more than to hug the woman in front of you.

“Things cannot go back to what they were, but they can be different, Wands.” This time around you said quietly, Wanda lifted her eyes but she could not read into your expression. 

“What do you mean?” She whispered hating the bubble of hope that grew in her heart.

“I mean that we…I mean, we can be friends.” You backed away not daring to say anything else, not daring to expose yourself once more.

The bubble of hope exploded in a spiral of cold nails that went through Wanda's heart. Friends. That was all they could be, right? Things coils be different this time around, a moment in which you were only a friend destined to just not be close enough.

“That…that sounds good.” Wanda tried to smile, her lips trembling under the weight of her emotions.

You offered a tentative smile, “you can…I mean, now that everything is ready, America was thinking on staying over, so if you want…”

“I'll leave tomorrow.” Wanda rushed the words one after the other, her right hand fixing her hair while the left one picked on invisible threads on her sweater. “I…I talk with Tony, and everything is ready, I just…”

You stood expressionless, frozen on the spot while processing Wanda's words. The woman was babbling, never looking at you while bouncing on her feet 

“I promise you I will be out of your way as soon as this is over and, I think it is time, I just thought you should know.” Wanda winced, stepping forward, walking past you without taking notice of the pain written all over your face.

“Friends would be good, I guess…we could try it.” Wanda turned around only to see you with your back to her. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

Wanda left and the coldness of the night followed her all the way to her room. She never got a chance to see the broken stare in your eyes, or the same coldness taking refuge in your heart leaving you open to what you really wanted but didn't dare to have.

_____________________

You didn’t say goodbye.

You were not ready to do so, thus you decided to just hide away and pretend Wanda hadn’t come into your life the moment winter began. It was easier than just face the fact that Wanda would leave you behind.

It wasn’t as if she owed you something, that had been the deal. You helped her and America and then, they needed to leave. You had been so full of grief and rage at that moment, you never imagine your emotions would change and that you would be faced with the situation you had been in.

Everything happened too fast for you to just think about it. And, when the moment came for you to do something, you just cowered away.

It was easier.

Running away was always easier.

By the time Wanda had arrived at your home, Winter had started. The days had been short, and the nights long and cold where the northern lights had been visible for most of the inhabitants in the North. 

You had been so busy with what was happening, that you had forgotten the magic hidden behind the green and golden lights that ignited the sky. Sometimes it changes into a pink colour, twirling above your home with a flicker of lightning just before fading away. 

You had chosen Norway due to its weather, and the quietness of the land. Not many tourists came to the fishing town, and the house you had bought was at the edge of a barely known road. It had been perfect for you to hide, and to run away; now it was looking like a prison, a place you could not escape from when everyone else seemed to walk away.

The wind was particularly strong that morning, it came with frozen bites on your uncovered skin. You turned around watching the mountains stretching through the horizon, the dark waters reflecting the darkened sky.  You had come to the lighthouse to think, and to forget.

But you were failing quite miserably.

The first time you walked away from Wanda, you had done so without even saying goodbye. This time around, you had run away before she could say goodbye to you.

You wished there was something you could do, something you could say to Wanda that would change the situation. But you weren't sure what exactly you could say, you and her had ended the relationship a long time ago, and right now whatever you two had was just a shaky friendship.

“Fuck!” Your scream could be heard through the sound of the blowing wind. 

“Why are you so frustrated?” Yelena was leaning against the wall, she was wearing a white, winter jacket with her brows knitted together.

You grabbed the railing shaking your head, your lips broke into a bitter smile. Of course, Yelena would be there watching your breakdown, Natasha had been like a mother to you offering her arms and shoulders for you to rest and let go of your pain. But Yelena had been the sister that made you face reality of what you were feeling, what you wanted and what you really needed.

“I don't know.” You turned around resting your weight on the railing, your eyes finding those of Yelena. “I've been thinking about everything that has happened, and I just…I don't know.”

Yelena nodded in understanding; she stepped closer to you crossing her arms. She was covering the fact she was freezing at the moment, her body shivering under the heavy weight of the jacket she was wearing. 

“You don't know or you just don't want to know.” Yelena glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, she wrapped her arms around herself pursuing her lips. “I think in the last couple of weeks you have to finally face a situation you had been evading for far too long.”

“I don’t know what I should do, ‘Lena.” You whispered frowning deeply, “everything had been clear a couple of months ago, I was happy until…”

“Until you received the videos?” Yelena set her eyes on the horizon, before tilting her head to turn her attention to you. “They were sent by someone inside SWORD, Agatha had more than one ally in the organization.”

“How do you know?”

“Natasha asked me to investigate while you were away, it wasn’t that difficult to find some of the records.” Yelena shifted the weight of her feet her hand sneaking inside her pocket. “I don’t think you travelling through the multiverse was part of her plan, though capturing you and getting Wanda, America and yourself in the same place was.”

“She wanted our powers, same old story.” You shook your head, “do they ever get original?”

“Don’t think so.” Yelena chuckled bumping against you, her face softening while she put from her pocket a single envelope.

“What is that?” You eyed the object with curiosity, Yelena pursed her lips before stretching her hand and presenting you with it.

“Before she left, she wanted to give you this.” Yelena frowned observing as your expression changed, you went from being slightly relaxed to a tormented soul in a second. “Whatever happened in the other universe, whatever happened in Westview, whatever happened when the both of you were young…I think, Y/N, you need to face the past and decide what to do with yourself and with her.”

You grabbed the envelope, taking care of the letter inside it.

“She left.”

“She did.”

“Yelena, I …” You couldn’t finish your sentence but Yelena was not expecting you to, she smirked shaking her head while rolling her eyes at you.

“The thing about love, Y/N, is that you can’t predict it, you can’t control it, and certainly, you can’t choose who you fall in love with.” Yelena said simply. “Now, it is up to you what will happen next, I think by now we all know what Wanda really wants, and who she really loves.”

“I thought you hate her.” You never took your eyes away from the letter, Yelena snorted shaking her head.

“No, I just didn’t like her that much, you were a mess when I met you.” Yelena stated turning her attention to the house. “She is not so bad, after all.”

You snorted shaking your head, with some reluctance you put the letter away wrapping your arms around Yelena, the young woman smiled allowing the comfort of your embrace while you two made your way back into the lighthouse.

The letter heavy on your pocket, your mind wanting nothing more than to know what Wanda had left behind. It wouldn’t be until latter that day that you would have a chance to read it and, by then, Wanda was too far away trying to hold back her tears while convincing herself she had made the right decision.

Wanda left thinking she would never see you again, and you read the letter knowing you needed to see Wanda again.

At the end of the day, it was about love, and what we did to get a little of it in our lives. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: You read the letter, Natasha reads the letter, Carol finds the letter, and Yelena and America are kinda desperated with you pinning for Wanda and not doing anything about it. Wanda is finally getting some peace, learning about herslef and her powers when, all of a sudden, she receives a surprised visit.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like a Stone 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki, Tony Stark (Professor AU)

Summary: your work as a TA is complicated by more than your advisor. (tall reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

‘Acceptable’. Not exceptional, acceptable. That word needles at you. 

You knew if from your first meeting, from the fact that the professor would not even look at you, that this would be difficult. Nothing worth doing is easy. But why can’t it be? 

You take a deep breath and let it out little by little. You make the suggested changes, although you would argue that some are unnecessary. Yet, you applied to be a TA as much for the learning experience as the extra money. 

“You okay?” Olive asks as she looks up from a paper streaked with eraser marks. 

“Fine,” you insist. “It’s early in the semester. I'm still getting back in the habit.” 

“I know what you mean,” she says and cradles her chin again. She furrows her nose at the textbook. 

“Need help?” You shift your laptop to the side. 

“Prim, don’t tell me you can do physics too,” she sighs. 

“My dad is a physicist,” she says. “I dabble.” 

“Wow, but... what about you?” 

“What about me? He told me to choose my major and I did.” You explain. 

“Right, sorry. I only...” 

“He wasn’t happy with my choice,” you shrug and reach for her textbook. 

“Oh, whew, I got it,” Cerise interrupts as she drops into her chair, scraping it loudly as she does. “Cider for Primmy and a white hot choccy for my Oli!” 

“Can you yell a bit louder?” You ask as you look around.  

“Sorry, sorry,” Cerise says and lowers her volume. “I just got a bit lost and I left my phone so...” 

“Thank you,” you accept the cup, “it’s appreciated. I’ll help you with that Norse once me and Olive get through this formula.” 

“Oh, Prim, I can figure it out,” Olive insists. 

You look at her. You don’t want to push. She probably can do it herself. It must be your new gig. You taught your first lesson and now you think you know it all. 

“Here,” you set down the physics book and gesture to Cerise. 

She digs around in her bag and pulls out the bright orange Norse grammar book. You look it over. It’s brand new but the same edition you used. 

“Cerise, do you still have the receipt?” You ask. 

“I just bought it today, yeah,” she answers. 

“Take it back. You can use mine. I’ll have father Fedex it overnight.” 

“Oh, but... okay, thanks.” 

“Not at all,” you flip through the pages, “you have your notes?” 

You take out your first-year binder and spread it out on the table. Compared to Cerise’ notes, it’s immaculate. You want to help her but you also can’t do everything for her. She’s smart in her own right, people just underestimate her. 

You remember the first lesson pretty well. As you go through the week’s vocabulary list, it gets easier. Cerise nods along and rewrites her note. You notice how closely she bends over the table though. She seems a little less stressed at the end. 

You sit up and rub your neck as you tilt your head one way then the other. You have a horrible habit of hunching at these tables. You push your fingertips into your muscles and hold back a yawn. 

“How about you, Olive? Did you figure it out?” You ask. 

“I think...” she answers but you don’t hear her full response. 

A tingle ripple flows over you as your eyes are caught by another pair. It’s strange. You were sure that hovering sensation was nothing. You ignored it for the Norse translation but now you’re assured of that smattering paranoia. 

It’s that man. The one you’d run in your first day. With his gross leer and his grosser words. You don’t hide your derision as you frown. He seems amused as he smirks and winks. Does he recognise you or is he just a sleaze to every woman on campus? 

“Can you check my work?” Olive nudges you with corner of her notebook, jarring you back to the table. 

“Yes,” you answer abruptly and take the book. 

You bend your head and look over the numbers. Hm. She had it but then she missed one step. 

“Right here,” you put the book down flat and point with your sharp nail. 

She reads it over and clucks, “I knew it...” 

You slide the book over and she takes it. You peek back to where that man stood. He’s gone. You roll your eyes and go back to your revisions. 

A new email pops into the corner of your screen. It’s one of those dozen emails the college sends every week about a new conference or event. You can check it after. 

Nope. Another email. This one alerts you. Doctor Laufeyson. You tap the notification. It’s a forward of the last campus email. 

‘To attend.’ 

That’s it. The only message. For a man with a doctorate, he does not expand very much on his points. Well, you guess you understood exactly what he means. You’ll mark your calendar and RSVP-- $150 attendance fee? And it’s out of town. 

You rub the side of your nose and respond to his email to confirm that you understand. 

“Prim?” Olive utters. 

“Headache,” you tear your hand away from your face. It isn’t a lie. There’s a pinch right above your eyebrow. Usually that waits until midterms to come around. 

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go,” Olive checks her phone. “I have a group assignment in my photography class.” 

“Group work. Lovely,” you remark. 

“Oh, you know, I have to grab something to eat before I head back to my dorm,” Cerise says. “I still haven’t gone shopping.” 

“Right, guess I’ll stay and finish. Have a good night, you two,” you drag your fingertips around the mousepad. 

“Well, I can stay,” Cerise offers. 

“No, I gotta focus,” you insist. “Really, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Sounds good,” Olive says. 

They leave together and you’re thankful for the solace. You work best alone and yet, those two keep you from going completely over the edge. Before them, you would’ve locked yourself in your room and not come out. 

“Is that the prickly one they call Primrose?” The voice crawls up your neck as a body slides into Cerise’ empty seat. 

You glance up at the man with the silver temples and dark brown eyes. Your brows arch in disappointment and agitation. He’s a bit old to be bothering you. Wait, how did he know your name? 

“You are Laufeyson’s new pet,” he says. “Good luck with that. Shoulda guessed what put that stick up your ass.” 

“Excuse me?” You blink. 

“Ah, trust me. I get it. He’s a fucking treat but if you need to take the edge off, I got a few tricks,” he leans forward and smirks. 

“I don’t know who you are and I prefer that,” you say crisply. 

“Professor Stark,” he answers as if you asked. “Your dream man.” 

You purse your lips and lower your eyes back to your laptop. You start typing as you do your best to ignore his silhouette on the other side of the screen. He chuckles and hums. 

“Oh, baby, this will be fun,” he slaps his hands on the table and stands. “Took me nothing to get your name, I can figure out the rest.” 

[aphidclan-clangen]

Hi! Happy 2025 :D

You've done an amazing job this past year, Iridis! AphidClan is one of the only clangens I can follow without getting lost or bored within a few updates (including one of my own I tried to start lol); your designs are instantly recognizable and eye-catching, the darker lore is balanced out with enough cute, light moments that it never feels overwhelming or overcomplicated, you express such a wide range of emotions and dynamics so well! Plus the diversity in your character base and your care towards representing a variety of identities, just makes me so happy to see. Everything about this comic is so uniquely creative, it's honestly incredibly impressive.

Obviously nothing against other clangens– just that yours has something special I've been unable to find elsewhere :]

Thank you for everything you've done this year, and I hope the next goes well for you 💞

AWWWW man thank you so much <33 This is so sweet and honestly relieving to hear lol, I often feel like I don’t really know what I’m doing with Aphidclan. Like it’s a constant hazy state of cluelessness that I’ve just grown used to. Im not very aware of like… what my work reads as to others? Man I dunno if you guys even know what’s going on lmao. So it’s really nice to hear an outside perspective and realize that’s probably just a me thing. And that it’s impressive??? Damn, man, thank you lol

I’ve never quite done anything like Aphidclan before. It started at a time in my life when I was…technically my gender exploration journey started months earlier than this, but it was kinda started at the cusp of my own gender identity exploration,,explosion. The first thing I wanted to explore was being xenogender (other folk go from “cisgender —> maybe I’m non-binary or trans…” in their journey like normal people but nah man. before anything else occurred to me I went from “im cisgender” to “maybe I’m a neon rainbow insect with neopronouns actually :)” lmao) and that coincided really well with the rise of the clangen trend, so I figured I’d use some brand new OCs to explore gender identity in a…safe way? In a safe little pocket where it was all,,,nonconsequential and only tangential to my own identity. And I ended up exploring transgender and non-binary identities as well very frequently, which was mostly helped by the game giving me cats with assigned genders/sexes and me squinting at them and going “…nah. that’s a unicorncore trans man if I ever seen one” and reversing it, and then transing half the cast lmao.

I was not transgender going into this comic. I am now coming out of our first year with Aphidclan as a transmasc nonbinary man <3

I never intended it to be a thing for representation points exactly? I was certainly surprised by the lack of xenogender and more complicated/unusual LGBTQ gender identities depicted in all media ever! I still don’t really understand why something like neopronouns aren’t more present? They’re the coolest shit ever. Like- we’ve broken down gender norms and gender roles so much that now gender is not just “feminine” and “masculine,” it’s anything and everything you could ever want it to be. It’s ultimate freedom. It’s not just what it means to be “man” or “woman,” it’s “but what if I was more than that? What if I felt like a bug? Or a rainbow? Or a cloud? Or a connection to nature and the ocean and the stars? What if I felt like I was part of the universe? Or a music genre, or a concept, or a candy bar, an animal, a fairy, a slice of fruit!” You could be anything you’ve ever dreamed of being and more.

And once you get used to the funky grammar of neopronouns, it’s not that polarizingly different from other identities at all, honestly. And plus, it’s really fkin fun lol.

Aphidclan’s helped me explore a lot throughout this year. There were often times where I was struggling with my own femininity as a trans man and I remembered Firebeetle and the support I’ve received for his character, and using “well, if it’s okay for firebeetle to wear dresses and flowers and feminine things, then it’s okay for me to do that too, and it doesn’t invalidate my identity at all” and it really helped. 2024 was a great year for me creatively and exploration-wise, and I’ll certainly never be the same. Thank you guys for all your support, it means a lot <3

[unholyhelbig]

So excited for the end of firecrest!!

Title: Firecrest (Part 7/7)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven]

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Horrible parenting, hospitals, bad language, needles, cannon-typical violence, drinking, guns, death, horrible grammar we know I don't beta read!

[A/n: First of all, thank you guys for your patience while I worked on this last chapter. This story hits kind of close to home. Not the fire powers, obviously, but the parental issues. It's one of my favorites and I hope I didn't disappoint.]

It was a gunshot that pulled you from your haze between sleep and alertness. It’s a distinct noise that seemed to echo off the very structure that you were trapped within. The iron bars that caged you chattered with the same ferocity as your teeth.

All at once, you registered the intense warmth of Kate pressed against you, and the quickness of her heart pounding close to your own. She lifted her head from your chest with a frown, sleep clinging to her stare. Her fingers gripped at the fabric of her own jacket that you’d slipped on sometime during the night.

Another shot rang out, pulling the two of you apart with as much quickness as you could muster without the pain becoming too much. Still, a grunt of discomfort escaped you and Kate’s stormy stare, still heavy with sleep, widened. She pressed her finger against her lip, signaling her plea for silence.

You flushed red and nodded, following her quiet order. Kate was surprisingly nimble for someone who you’d never known to be quiet. She’d gotten to her feet, her booted feet barely making a sound against gravel. The commotion was coming from the far side of stables, and it was moving closer.

All at once, you felt an indescribable fear and a relief that was unmatched. There was no way for you to protect yourself. One of your eyes had swollen shut and though you hadn’t tried standing yet, you were sure that it wasn’t an option on unsteady feet. Kate would gladly nudge herself under your arm, take your weight and haul you from the premises, but you would just the same encourage her to leave you behind.

You were a liability like this and if those gunshots had lodged deep into the flesh of the wrong side, then it was the two of you that would suffer in an almost poetic end. Like most hired captors, yours suffered from the same lack of foresight. They’d released your coordinates for dramatic flair, but a flare it was. Streaking the sky in sparks of red and orange and leaving behind a foul-smelling trail of smoke.

Kate frowned and crouched low to the ground, pressing her palms into the clay earth. You couldn’t help but find her stunning like this; focused, locked-in with a deep scowl on her features. The sun had just risen, and it cast her in a ghostly blue light. The green in her eyes suddenly reflected the red of a scope.

You gave in to instinct much before you registered the sealed wounds tearing back open with a searing squelch. Little pin-pricks of red LED had swarmed Kate’s chest like a colony of ants, circling until they’d found their target right above her heart.

She’d barely registered the lights before you’d tackled her to the ground and pinned her under your body. You were doing that a lot lately, pinning her somewhere that neither of you wanted to be. She broke her own rule of silence with a grunt of surprise and a breath that splayed against your chest. Everything thrummed with your heartbeat as you clenched your eyes shut and waited for the blinding white pain of a reign of bullets.

That never came. Instead, Kate’s arms were wrapped carefully around you like a solid force that was not to be reckoned with. You heard her exhale, a rush of air like a waterfall with your ear pressed this close to her chest. They weren’t shooting. Why weren’t they shooting?

You grimaced in pain and detached yourself from the archer, plopping ungracefully onto your back next to her. You stared up at an unblinking agent, dressed head to toe in a tactical uniform. Their gun was lowered, the scope light dancing against the gravel and dust. Once more- you recognized the hazel in the eyes, even before a gloved hand removed the mask covering the lower part of her face.

“That little show was very valiant of you, buddy.” She said, not trying to hide her shit-eating grin. “Totally unnecessary, but I’m sure it won you points with Artemis here.”

A groan that was mix of pain and embarrassment pushed past your lips. You used the last of your strength to bury your blush-bloomed face into the crook of Kate’s neck. Your Aunt Daisy was the last person you’d ever want to see you curled up with a Hawkeye, nonetheless. But you were aching too much to care. Too relieved that they sent in SHIELD.

Things began to move fast, despite the pain in your bones making a slow descent from your head down to your toes. Kate had been rendered speechless by the Director of SHIELD herself coming in for the rescue and comparing her to Greek Goddess all in the same breath. You, on the other hand, swallowed down the taste of metal as you were hauled to your feet.

She had a lemon scent to her that was an instant comfort. You fell into Daisy’s offer of solace, insistent that you could at least walk to the waiting ambulance with her help. She was much too patient with you, just like she had always been.

“We’ve kept the media pushed back to the end of the drive, but they’re vicious these days.” She mumbled against your blood encrusted temple. The two of you stopped just short of the mouth of the stable. She sensed your exhaustion and let you ease yourself down onto a bale of hay.

A set of eyes were on her at all times, and she waved a command at them that was nothing short of a signal to bring the help to you. She was perfectly content to let you lick your wounds and press your fingers to your ribs in the only security you’d been able to hold onto.

“I’m shocked they sent you. Not that I’m not stoked to see you, it’s been too long.” You appended your statement quickly.

“They didn’t send me. The department was taking too long, so I stepped in. I hated when Coulson would pull that Director bullshit, but it comes in handy sometimes. They can’t really say no to me. Especially not when my niece is being held hostage and they’re not making a move.”

You frowned and stared at the tightly packed hay. It was taking on a strawberry quality under the assault of your blood. A SHIELD agent with a medical badge around their throat knelt in front of you and waited for the slight nod you gave to start assessing the brunt of the damage. You flinched at the cold when Kate’s purple jacket was stripped away.

“That woman…”

“Is going away for a long time.” Daisy assured in a steely voice. “He didn’t make it. Might have been dressed like a cowboy but he certainly didn’t know how to shoot like one.”

You hummed in something that could only be deemed sick satisfaction, too exhausted to find your voice. You let yourself slump against Daisy’s shoulder, her fingers coming up and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as the medic worked. You were cold; numb.

Still, across the chaos, and the sound of a news helicopter that had somehow started to hover low enough to flip the leaves of the surrounding aspens onto their white bellies, you found Kate; wrapped in a blanket and shaking from the rush of cold that she’d tried to smother. A pulse ox was on her finger and she flinched when a thermometer was shoved under her tongue. She rolled her eyes, offering up a small wave.

You smiled at her, waved back like the two of you were adjacent in a school yard and not separated by 500 feet of agents of crime-scene tape and people you’d be hard pressed to recognize.

Daisy scoffed, “You Morse women and your Hawkeyes. If this one breaks your heart, I’m breaking every arrow in her quiver.”

They’d waited until you’d slipped back into sleep to smear the alcohol pad against the building vein in your hand and slide the needle past skin. You’d fought them hard on being taken to the hospital in the first place, fought them harder when they moved you to a secure wing that was separate from even Kate.

Eventually, as Daisy smoothed her hand down your back and nudged you in the right direction like only family could, you relented. They’d posted guards in front of your door to keep Cindy Moon and her blood thirsty interns from sniffing you out.

Before you’d succumbed to unconsciousness, you were getting nervous. You had yet to see Bobbi or Lance. Even Clint would have been a warm welcome compared to the near-empty room. They’d taken what was left of your clothing. You were entirely too exposed in nothing but your boxer shorts and a sheer hospital gown that was open along the back.

The pinch in your hand elicited a groan, and then another. There was fuzz at the edges of your vision, and you’d known that some degree of morphine was pumped through you. There was a weightlessness to your being, even as you blinked your eyes open and were met with ones that reminded you too much of Kate’s, but not quite there.

“Mm, Mrs. Bishop?”

The socialite froze in her movements. You frowned, stretching as much as your body allowed it. She was one of the last people you wanted to see right now and she was much too close to your IV stand for comfort. She turned with a stiffness and placed her cold hand on your arm, a move that was supposed to convey comfort but did the exact opposite.

“Oh, baby, you should get some rest.” Her fingers moved up to your forehead, brushing back strands of hair. “You’ve been through quite a lot these last few days. You had us so worried.”

Suddenly, you felt an unbelievable tug at the center of your chest, a grief that was so palpable. It was a feeling that you had only experienced once or twice during your short life, but one that rocked through every part of you all the same. You wanted your mom.

In this moment, you were six years old again, in the sterile lab with tears dripping sloppily down your cheeks and breaths impossible to pull into quivering lungs. You were scared and the only thing that would stop the rush of fear was the warm, encompassing embrace of the woman who brought you into this world. Only she could stop the thing trying to take you out.

Eleanor clocked the rigidity in your stance, letting out the slightest breath before lowering herself onto the corner of the bed. “Has Katherine ever spoken about her father?”

You shook your head. This didn’t’ seem like a conversation you should be having without the archer aware or even present. You ached for her, keeping your fists bunched and your eyes trained evenly on the woman who had somehow conned her way past the agents at the door.

“Derek’s nickname in high school was Icarus. Most people, most sane people, would find that to be an insult but Derek saw Icarus as an innovator. He didn’t look at the melting wax wings and the plummet to a bloody death as a bad thing, because for just a moment, he was flying.”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, nearly choking on your own saliva. There were flashes of the man, usually smiling, his wrists weighed down by heavy watches and expensive shirts tucked into pleated pants. Kate missed a month of school when he died and was never quite the same following the battle of New York. None of you were.

“Politics, darling” she touched your knee under the layers of blankets “are filled with Icarus’s all chasing the same sun. Sometimes, someone who can see the bigger picture needs to step in and give them something other than wax to sculpt with. Are you following me?”

It may have been the morphine talking, but you simply chewed on your bottom lip, a glassy look in your eyes. “No?”

And truly, you didn’t. Though, you were a bit admonished by the look of annoyance that flicked past her features. Again, you saw a little of Kate in her stare that made you long for the girl that you’d barely had a chance to see in the last twenty-four hours. You had the sudden urgency to rip free of all the wires like the Hulk himself and go to her, wherever she was.

“Okay,” Eleanor stood, suddenly exasperated by your lack of understanding. She’d be a horrible teacher, lacking the patience even in your inebriated state. She sidled up next to your IV again and you tracked her with your stare. “We’re going to make this painless, because I’m afraid my Katherine won’t forgive me if I go about it any other way.”

She dug into her bag that cost more than your collage tuition and produced a syringe. The object conjured an acute fear in you, a fight or flight that you’d exhibited in the waiting room and again before they brought you up here and let you have your way.

“Seriously?” You groaned, throwing your head back into the pillow “What is with people and drugging me lately? It’s not creative! And if you take one more step, I’ll blow us both to bits!”

The words escaped you with such a nonchalance that Eleanor lowered her hand with the needle and blinked at you in disbelief, cocking her head like an animal hearing a high-pitched noise. It was a bluff. You hadn’t felt that familiar itch of fire under your skin since dinner.

Still, all it would take was a spark and the quick removal of the oxygen under your nose. She eyed you with all the conviction of a mother challenging her child ready to throw a tantrum and a lazy smirk twitched at the edges of your lips, too exhausted to fight. To really fight.

“You don’t have a lighter.”

The sound of a crack filled the room, a metal and hollow noise that made you jump back as Eleanor Bishop fell to the floor in a heap, the plastic needle sliding far enough away from the piping of your IV to finally bring comfort.

Kate stood in her place, holding a dinner tray in a defense position. “She doesn’t need one, bitch.”

The smile on your face was genuine this time, hands making quick work at removing your IV and detaching any sensors that were keeping you bound to the bed. They beeped in protest, but you couldn’t, and wouldn’t give a damn. Kate was in an equally as exposing hospital gown with a dopy smile that was unmatched.

She dropped the tray, bending down with careful ease and connecting her lips to yours “hi darling,”

“Hi baby,” You kissed her back hungrily, savoring the sweet taste of her “God, you’re warm and you smell so nice, and I know Artemis was really into chastity, but please don’t make me wait.”

Kate scrunched her nose and pulled back with amused raise of an eyebrow. “You doing okay?”

“Morphine.”

“Ah… well, we’ve already had sex. A lot. And right now, we need to focus on getting out of here. Turns out Mother dearest was colluding with some very unsavory people who aren’t happy about your aunt’s intervention.”

You nodded, staring into Kate’s slate eyes, they searched your features, the plumpness of her lips, the constellations of her freckles. You wanted to trace and every one of them with the pads of your fingers. Her knocking out her mother with a dinner tray was quite possibly the most attractive thing you’d ever seen her do.

You rose on shaky feet, blinking the confusion from your eyes. You wanted to curl back into the warmth of the archer that was at your side in an instant. She wanted to cling to you, to steady you when you threatened to sway, but swallowed it back.

The urge to protect her outweighed everything else, knowing full well that she could protect herself just as much as she could you. When the door to your room creaked open, it revealed the agents slumped against the wall. They hadn’t done you much good, but you still knelt down and checked for a pulse. Weak, but still there, so Eleanor wasn’t entirely lost.

Kate’s fingers slotted with yours and she silently led you through the quiet hallways. There was a sterile detachment to the hospital at this time of night that unsettled you and brought back that same cloying feeling that made you weak. You wanted your mother. Hell, you wanted your father too. Your hand tightened around Kate’s and for the first time since a needled had been shoved into your neck, that familiar edge of fire reared its ugly head.

Your thoughts were racing listlessly. There was no safety for purchase. The media had been interested in your relationship with Kate to begin with but now that the two of you had been thrust into the spotlight for something akin to an action movie, all eyes would be waiting for an update. Something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for the past few days, just like the dull ache in your bones.

Kate moved towards the elevator, but you stopped short, shaking your head in a heavy silence before taking the stairwell instead. It was freezing, goosebumps rising against your skin. The constant hum of the hospital was instantly silenced, jolting you into another world entirely. Kate looked like a phantom raised from a grave.

She narrowed her eyes at you, sinching the back of her gown together with her hands. “Stop that.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Katie. You look cold.”

Your words were sluggish, the past week catching up to you as you clamped your hand together with hers once more. You didn’t have much energy behind your gift, but what little you did, you directed towards Kate. She shivered, a low gasp escaping her as she pushed closer to you.

Fire was often seen as something of destruction, but it was also the ultimate source of warmth and in a moment where the two of you had never been so vulnerable, so smelling of sick and so frozen from the inside out, you wanted nothing more than to be a comfort to the girl you loved. The girl you had just admitted to loving.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kate breathed out.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me. But, I promise, I’ll tell you everything as soon as we get out of this mess. Who is behind all of it, anyway?”

Your hushed voices still echoed in the vastness of the stairwells as you padded down them with as much quickness as your feet would grant you. There was an emergency exit on the ground floor that set off a blaring alarm but deposited you directly into a damp alleyway that was a few degrees warmer than the hospital was. You both breathed in sour relief as a charge nurse inhaled on a cigarette with widened eyes.

“Hey, uh, what hospital is this?” You asked, brushing your bare foot free of gravel.

“I’m not paid enough for this.” She sighed out a puff of smoke, but in the same breath “Parker Memorial.”

“Oh sick, walking distance.”

Kate’s elbow was bony as it slammed into your ribs, but she made up for it by gently taking your hand and setting the pace towards what you assumed was her penthouse. It was easy to get turned around in the city. No one batted an eye at the two girls wandering the streets in hospital gowns.  

“This past winter, my mother got into some shady stuff, and I overlooked it. I had a lot going on myself and I didn’t want to believe that the one biological parent I had left standing would fall into the dark underbelly of New York just like every other rich fuck in the city.”

You blinked hazily at Kate. At this angle, she was shaded by the passing yellow lights of the traffic, of the storefronts and the food carts that wafted greasy scents. It once produced a comfort but now filled you with a roiling nausea that was hard to swallow down. You felt the undeniable warmth of wounds reopening and the sticky discomfort of the thin hospital gown adhering to your skin.

“I let it go because suddenly there was Clint and it was hard not to fight for his attention which is not an easy thing to win. I was relentless and eventually my mother and whoever she was talking to late at night was an afterthought. She got careful or I got careless, or maybe it was both. But either way, she started backing Lance because… Wilson Grant Fisk wanted him to win.”

You stopped abruptly enough to feel the sidewalk dig into the soles of your feet. It reminded you of scraped knees and haphazardly applied bandages, of summers when the streetlights would come on and you’d race home to wash up before dinner. Kate stopped too, hunched into herself, trying to seem smaller than she was.

“How do you know all of this?”

“There were bits and pieces. I eavesdropped on a lot of my mothers conversations, and then when she caught on and life got complicated, I started to take notice of the people that would attend benefits. I never, ever thought they would pull something like this. That they would hurt you.” Her voice tightened, and she glanced away before her eyes could mist over. “I would have paid better attention if I had just fucking known.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, despite your unsteady hand. Her grey stare a shock to your nervous system. Tracks of tears ran down her cheeks, streaking the blushed red that you wanted to kiss away. “None of this is on you, okay? Katie, we can’t be heroes all the time. For now, we can just be thankful that we made it this far, and that we made it together.”

“Yeah,” She sniffed, her delicate touch moving to your wrist, fingers tracing the blued veins that were barely visible under the lights. The maps that could mirror the subway systems under the city, or the constellations of stars. “And that we got this far without being too much like our parents?”

You scoffed “That too.”

Exhaustion had all but overtook you by the time you had made it past the doorman of Kate’s building. She had clocked his cold, unfeeling stare and her fingers dug warningly into your ribs. She was holding you up dutifully.

It wasn’t the usual guy, that much you noticed. The last time you had been in this elevator with Kate, it wasn’t your Kate and the guilt still tasted sour on your tongue. This time, the two of you were washed pale in hospital gowns and bare feet that had been torn to shreds. Where was SHIELD when you needed them? Fighting off the media circus and an imminent alien invasion now that you had been secured.

“What are the chances that we can get into your place without a fight?”

“Maybe 80%” She brought her hand up to the small of your neck, ghosting her fingers over the soft skin there. You fought off the chill that pushed through you. “I didn’t hit my mother that hard, so chances are she’s come to and has called Mr. Fisk already. If they’re planning to kill us, they’ll do it here.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Wilson wanted Lance to win, so he hires someone to kidnap and torture me, give him a valiant rescue, but then, what? Gets cold feet and keeps him here instead?”

Kate hums furrowing her brow. “Unless it wasn’t him at all and my mother went rouge, hired them to take both of us.”

The mechanical whir of the elevator jolting to a stop and opening pulled the two of you apart. Kate still steadied you with her stone touch. It opened directly into the penthouse, which was eerily silent. There was a distrust embedded deep within your stomach. Kate glanced at you uneasily.

Instinctively, you wished to reach across her as if you’d slammed too hard on the breaks of your car, her head jolting quickly towards the dash. Instead of risking a fractured skull, you risked questing her ability which you would never do. Kate could handle herself and could certainly handle herself better than you in your current state.

She dug quietly through the umbrella bucket by the mouth of the elevator and produced one of Jack’s swords, sheathed of course, until she pulled the leather casing off. You stifled your smile. He might not be smart enough to see the blazing red flags that his second wife was waving around erratically, but at least he did this.

Kate was an expert swordsman; this you knew from the countless times she had you pinned to a blue mat with the tip of foil shoved against your torso, the shaft bent like an arch and an overly cocky expression on her face when she pulled off her mask. Her cheeks were always a delicious shade of red, hair mussed with sweat. She’d even reluctantly taken lessons with Jack once she’d realized he had a few helpful tricks past showmanship.

You hesitantly took a step back from Kate and let the fire that had been bubbling below your skin, biting and growling like a dog on a chain, free. Your hands were engulfed in a dull yellow that flickered against the expensive art in Kate’s foyer. The closer to your skin, the bluer the flames. Kate’s gaze reflected the color brilliantly, and the small nod of understanding she shot your way made your heart flutter. You’d torch the place if you had to.

Muffled voices hit your ears first, the contrast of cold between the patio doors being open and the fire that poured out of you. When you both emerged from around the corner all of the commotion in the room seemed to come to a halt.

Clint was sitting on a piano bench in the far corner, massaging his temples. He hadn’t changed out of his dinner clothes but had shed his jacket. It was draped across the back of the couch that looked worse for wear as if someone had tried (and failed) to get some rest.

Bobbi was silhouetted by the cityscape behind her, a menagerie of unblinking eyes. This was the first time that she had ever exhibited any signs of her age to you; wrinkles, and pale skin, nails bitten down, hair greasy and worked through in a clear pattern of anxiety.

She was wrapped in a cardigan and hunched over as if she were fighting the biting cold of a winter storm. The only force holding her up was Lance. His strong hands braced on either side of her arms. His eyes were rubbed a raw red, damp with what seemed like a fresh display of emotion. He had worried his lip to the point of drawing blood and had scratched nervously at his throat until that too was a mess of red claw marks. Something that he hadn’t done since your first day of high school.

Both you and Kate frantically searched every inch of the room. This was it. This was it? There was no Wilson Fisk with his horribly gaudy cane, or another cowboy that sought to brand you with a rusted blade. Not a mother with a poison-dipped tongue (though you weren’t thrilled about Clint), or even a step-father who could be none the wiser to the situation.

Neither of you relaxed your stances.

“Kid,” Clint spoke in a calming, gravelly voice, Kate’s head turning. You didn’t’ look at him. Eyes trained on your parents instead. You were breathing heavy as if to combat the cement filling your lungs and hardening by the second. He spoke again, firmer this time. “Kid, look at me.”

This time when you snapped your eyes over to meet his, unwanted tears trailed down your cheeks. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. These were meant to be for the relief of Bobbi and Lance, they were in reaching distance- they are right there God damn it, let me go to them, this isn’t about you.

“Everything is fine, take a deep breath and put the fire away.” He attempted to soothe.

Kate made a quiet noise in the back of her throat and tightened the grip on the hilt of the sword. She stared at Clint incredulously as if telling him to stop. You respected her attempt at mediation, it was much more than fake Kate had done, but he was terrible at reading social ques regardless of which partner he was dealing with.

“What, you don’t think I can control this?” you asked, lifting one hand up and staring at the flames as if it were an alive creature, jumping from fingertip to fingertip. “You’ve always been afraid of fire, haven’t you, dad?”

Lance tightened his grip on Bobbi’s arms. The words tasted like acid in your mouth. She watched the interaction as if she were viewing it from outside of the house, hand pressed up against the window. She was locked out but could hear every single word. She made no attempt to break it open despite having every tool at her disposal. This was something you had to do.

“I’m not afraid of fire.”

“Sure, you are.” You stepped down into the living area, the simple motion tugging at your body in all the wrong ways, but you still swallowed back the pain. The weaknesses that had been bestowed upon you by the hands seeking so hungrily for political gain. “Everyone is, it’s a natural human response to destruction, and that’s all fire does, that’s all it is. A form of dismantling whatever environment it’s placed in.”

He swallowed dryly. The two of you must be quite the unhinged sight; bruised and bloodied, feet cracked from the cold city streets. You were in hospital gowns and shivering as the adrenaline and medication wore away from your bones like a ratty old coat. The tip of Kate’s sword was drooping and you could feel the fight slowly start to drain from you.

“You know something, though? I spent my entire life trying to come to terms with being a monster. Being that destruction. The chaos that scares everyone away that I couldn’t see the one person that never left my side. The one person who didn’t send me to specialists, or didn’t walk out on me because it was easier. The one person who was never afraid of fire.”

Clint couldn’t look you in the eyes. Not even as the flames left your fingertips. You couldn’t hold it anymore. The tension in your hands was too much, the heat in your veins nothing but a dull tap at the window of the house now. You wanted your parents. You wanted a shower. You wanted sleep. You needed to finish this.

“Clint,” You choked out, his stare raising sheepishly from the finish of the floor. “We can stop pretending that you’re here for me. It’s okay to love Kate Bishop. I sure as hell do. But just because you’re in her life, does not mean you can come here and uproot mine by trying to be something we both know you’re not. Am I clear?”

Three things happened at once; He nodded, your legs gave out, and Kate’s sword fell to the floor with an undignified clang. You figured that you would be right there with it, but Bobbi, with her learned reflexes had reached you before that outcome was possible.

Lance was at Kate’s side in a matter of moments, making sure she didn’t succumb to the same exhaustion as Clint blinked tepidly at the entire situation that moved around him. They hadn’t hesitated for a moment, and you almost regretted leaving the hospital, had it not been for your girlfriends (was she really?) mother trying to exterminate you.  

For now, you enjoyed the cold contrast of the wooden floor and the innate warmth of your own mothers embrace. She carried her signature scent of warm citrus and the unfamiliar one of bourbon. Your nose was buried in her neck as you sobbed, careful to find her pulse point with an accuracy that she taught you, just to make sure she was alive. That she was there.

She was whispering something, pressing tender kisses against your forehead and using her thumbs to wipe away the tracks of tears that muddied your face. But you couldn’t discern her words, not over the pounding headache and the sudden need to sleep.

Clint Barton was the first thing you opened your eyes to. His smiling face with a glass of milk and a horrible painted white mustache above his lip. The comically written ‘Got Milk?’ slogan was next to his head and strategically placed around his quiver and arrows.

The groan that you produced caused the warm and heavy arm around your midsection to tighten. You knew that Kate was awake due to her breathing pattern. It was a hazy time in the morning where the sun was too bright for her to remain asleep no matter how exhausted, though she still snuggled close to you to keep you appeased.

“Is this hell?” You mumbled into the floral pillow.

“Close. It’s my childhood bedroom.”

You turned in her arms, not an easy task considering you were in yet another twin bed. This time it was four posts and fitted with thousand-thread-count sheets, so it was a clear upgrade. You didn’t mind the way you had to tangle your legs with Kate’s, how she had to ensnare you in her strong embrace to keep you from falling off the edge of the bed.

Kate’s eyes were clouded with sleep, her freckles catching the rays of sun. Up this close, you could see every grey and blue shift in her iris. You wanted to trace the exposed surfaces of her face and learn every detail that was on display. For now, you settled on running the tips of your fingers over the split in her eyebrow, careful not to press down to hard, you didn’t want to cause pain.

The two of you had been intimate in many aspects (on many surfaces) but this was only your second time waking up next to Kate Bishop formally. Not in a jail cell, or with her rushing to get dressed so the two of you could put on a charade for your families. You wanted this every day. You wanted her every day.

She gently took your hand and placed a kiss against your fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“Like we probably should have stayed at Parker Memorial.”

Kate giggled and started to nervously play with your fingers. The two of you stayed in relative silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the city and what sounded like someone cooking breakfast just past the confines of her bedroom. The world could wait, just for a little bit.

“How are you feeling? Horribly staged kidnapping aside, some big things happened with Eleanor yesterday. We don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to. But that offer you made in the boxing gym all that time ago works both ways. You can talk to me.”

She huffed out a breath that fanned against your chest at the memory and tucked her head within the small of your neck. The two of you had been gifted with normal clothing that you didn’t even want to begin to speculate on how you’d gotten into. But feeling the coolness of her nose against your throat sent shivers down your spine all the same. When she spoke, it vibrated close to your skin.

“Part of me feels sorry for her. She’s always justified her behavior by the nature of her cause, you know? But that’s not how the world works. Doing horrible things for good reasons doesn’t change the fact that you’re doing horrible things. Paying someone to kidnap your daughter and her girlfriend for political gain is fucked up even if you write it in pretty font.”

She stiffened suddenly, pulling back and looking at you with widened eyes, her jaw clenched as if she had just ripped a sloppy set of stitches. It took you a moment to catch on to her quick change in demeaner. The way her own hand tightened around yours.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” She rushed out, cheeks suddenly a violent cherry red. “That just came out. All the other parts, those are totally true.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! Yes. Unless… you liked the way it sounded. In that case, I meant every single word.”

You mocked a frown, and stretched out a little, watching as she held her breath. The redness in her face kept growing different shades like a sample card at a paint store. You were enjoying this way too much. “I don’t know Katie. If I say yes, does this mean I get to see more of those fun toys you have hidden away in your closet?”

Another shade of red was accompanied by her flopping down gently and mumbling an undignified ‘yes’ into the fabric of your shirt. You patted the back of her head with a chuckle before gently guiding her stare back up to yours, sufficiently happy that she was breathing fairly normally again.

“Kate Bishop, I would love to be your girlfriend.”

You tamped off her sigh of relief with a soft kiss that soothed all of the nerves that still ached in your body. You were perfectly content to stay in her childhood bedroom for the rest of the day, the rest of the week- maybe even forever. Just wrapped up in her warmth and her scent. It was all you’d ever wanted; right in front of you and you’d been blinded by smoke this entire time.

“Thank god,” She mumbled against your lips “Could you imagine bringing anyone else into my family?”

Bobbi dug absently through her pocketbook searching for a mint wrapped in cellophane that was hidden amongst photo ID’s and credit cards. It wasn’t a deep clutch, but it could have been endless based on her searching. “Remember what we talked about y/n?”

“Of course,” You reached in your pocket, produced your own tin of mints and handed enclosed her fingers around it as if it were routine. At this point, it had become one. Over the last two months she had resorted to wearing glasses, finally giving in after Lances poking and prodding. She often forget them at home. “Would you like me to repeat it?”

She did not dignify you with answer. This conversation was all too familiar, just like these awful events were. Instead, she offered up her arm and you took it great fully. Despite the exhaustive days of physical therapy, you were still working on getting up to speed with the full use of your right leg, an injury that adrenaline had hidden well and good until you put your full weight on it.

After Lance had won his political race by a landslide victory, things seemed to move at a whirlwind pace. Interviews and cameras, and reporters that were much too interested in the sudden arrest of Eleanor Bishop. Ultimately, she had been pinned with the criminal kidnapping of both you and Kate. SHIELD made sure to clean up the rest, no mention of the Cowboy or the woman in the mask.

You squeezed your mothers hand once before she was whisked away to another section of the grand house you had been invited to. It was spruced up with fall decorations and smelled too much like nutmeg. But champagne was passed around on trays and you were careful to pluck one off with the tact that you were ushered into. Still, amongst the chaos, Lance made a point to meet your eyes from across the room, lifting his own glass with a solemn nod and a loving smile that you returned.

You’d found your way out of the crowded foyer after a few polite hellos and into a quieter part of the house. A darker library that had a few groups talking amongst themselves. The scent of cigars outweighed that of pumpkin and the warmth settled against your shoulders comfortably.

Your fingers moved across the spines of the books tracing the gold and reading the beautifully crafted titles as you took small sips of your drink, letting the alcohol warm your stomach and the carbonation burn your throat.

“Look at us, we match.”

Kate’s voice reached your ears before her touch against your waist. All the same, her presence encompassed you with the sudden bliss of calm. The two of you did, indeed, match. She wore a midnight blue suit sprinkled with small stars against the collar, constellations that you could only see when you were close enough to kiss her. Galaxies of possibility.

She’d chosen your own blazer, laying it out on her bed and giving Lucky instructions to keep his paws off, which he shockingly did despite the lint roller you had on hand in case anything went awry. Kate pressed a quick kiss to your lips, grasping your drink all in one motion, a sly trick that you never commented on, content to be dazed in your own right.

“What are you looking at?”

“A collection of Shakespeare’s best.” You moved your index finger against another forest green spine. “He once said ‘Be stirring as the time, be fire with fire, threaten the threatener, and outface the brow of bragging horror; so shall inferior eyes, that borrow their behaviors from the great, grow great by your example and put on the dauntless spirit of resolution.’.”

Kate took two swallows of campaign, a healthy tint to her cheeks as she lowered the glass. There was admiration in her eyes. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“I’m serious, Katie” You chuckled, stealing your drink back.

“Me too,” She grabbed the lapels of your jacket, pulling your close, nudging her nose against yours. “Say the word and we can go back to my place right now.”

“As much as I would love that, I promised Lance that we would stay through dinner.”

She huffed but nodded all the same. “Okay, okay. Explain to me then, the beauties of Shakespeare. Why that quote? Why now?”

You shook your head and traced the grouping of stars on the collar of her jacket that was closest to you. It was a feeling that you couldn’t explain. You had been in mostly bliss for the past two months. Despite the arrest of Kate’s mother, the back of fourth of Clint still being in your vicinity but pointedly staying away from you. Things had been good. They’d been great.

But something still didn’t make sense.

“I don’t know,” You sighed out, “I just feel like we’re not getting the full picture. I’m glad that Lance won, but at the same time… What if we were all just pawns in something bigger?”

Kate’s tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, knitting her eyebrows together. “Pawns rarely know they’re being moved around the board. I think maybe we just have to wait. As hard as it is. I’m a selfish girl, y/n. For now, I’m happy that we’re both safe. If Fisk is going to drop another shoe, we’ll just have to keep an eye out for it.”

“You’re right,” You swallowed thickly, trying to ease the tension from your shoulders. “I just worry that he’ll throw the shoe at full speed through a windshield, you know?”

“We’ll be okay, you know why?” Kate smirked devilishly, curling her finger under your chin and lifting your gaze just enough to stare into her cornflower eyes. “Bishop always takes King.”

“Oh, that was awful,” You pulled away from her, shoving the empty champagne flute into her hands. “You’re finding another ride home tonight.”

“Come on, I was kidding. I don’t even know how to play chess!”

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria, @pianogirl2121, @escapereality4music, @cyberbonesworld, @dark-hunter16, @crescentcrush, @bishopsbeloved, @sammi1642, @bilyashvili, @thinking1bee,

[milaisreading]

Hello, is possible for you to make random blue lock x manager reader scenarios with ryusei, sae, Oliver, kaiser and Ness?

(You don't have to do it, if you don't want to. I won't force you)

Author: Hiii! Of course! Hope u like this and thank u for the request! 🩷🩷

Warnings ⚠️: None in particular. Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Kaiser:

Moving from Japan to Germany was already complicated and a big change, with the different climate, language barrier, culture and people, but moving to Germany to work for their most decorated football team was a new level of stress. While (Y/n) had her friends from Japan still with her (Isagi, Kunigami, Yukimiya, Hiori and Kurona), she still had a set of her own struggles, such as getting used to the way the paper work is supposed to be filled, all the more aggressive players she has to assist and of course...

"(Y/n)~ I need more water!"

'Kaiser.' She groaned and looked at the smug boy while she was cleaning up.

"Go and get your own!" Kunigami yelled in annoyance as the other boys sat on the benches, waiting for (Y/n) to finish her duty.

"It's alright." The girl said and walked over, with a forceful smile handing him the desired item.

"Here you go."

Smirking, Kaiser took the hand that held the bottle and kissed it.

"Thank you, Liebling."

"Have you lost it?! I will kick your ass, Kaiser!" Isagi yelled as the boy laughed and walked off, leaving a flustered (Y/n) behind.

"Disgusting..." Hiori said as he glared daggers at ther German, meanwhile Kurona and Kunigami were already on their way to give her hand sanitizers.

"That's not how you write it."

"What?" (Y/n) asked as she looked up to find Kaiser hovering above her. The blonde sighed and pointed as the sentence she wrote.

"That. It's not correct, you are to write 'Der blaue Kanister' not 'das'. Let me show you." The boy sat down and took her notebook and pen, explaining how the grammar worked.

'He seems oddly nice today... he didn't say anything provoking to Isagi and he didn't tease me either.'

"Do you get it now?"

Slowly nodding her head, (Y/n) took her notebook from him.

'Why is German so hard?!'

Kaiser observed her reaction in amusement and looked up at the clock, noticing that their break will be over in a bit.

"I will help you with it."

"With my German?" (Y/n) raised her eyebrow as the boy nodded his head.

"Why?"

"I feel like it."

(Y/n) was about to say something back, but got pulled away from the boy by Hiori.

"We need your help."

Hiori said as he pulled the girl away.

'Interesting girl.' Kaiser chuckled as he watched her walk off.

Ness:

Alexis Ness was someone (Y/n) found interesting, he was a great football player, awfully loyal to Kaiser and... very cute. (Y/n) blushed at the last part and shook her head as she looked down at the magazine Noel gave her. (Y/n) planned to do a small tour around Munich the coming Sunday, as her friends were either sick or going home for a week.

"Do you need help?" Ness asked as he walked to (Y/n)'s table, raising an eyebrow at all the tourist magazines.

"Kinda... I am looking at some tourist destinations around Munich." (Y/n) explained, hoping the boy might help her out in some way.

"Why are you looking through these magazines then? You can ask Kaiser or I to ask for help." Ness asked, sitting down as he took one of them to look through.

"Also, you are not going home for the holidays?"

"No, my dad won't be home because of work and I don't feel like flying back home right after I came here. And as for you two... I am guessing you have something better to do than be tour guides."

Ness was surprised at the answer, expecting something like that to be said by Isagi or Kunugami, but not from (Y/n). Both him and Kaiser were a lot nicer to her than to them, he even let's her get away with talking back to Kaiser. So he honestly wondered why she would think that they won't help.

Shaking his head, Ness gave her his usual smile and put the magazine away.

'So cute!' (Y/n) gulped.

"I don't plan on going home either, so I will gladly be your tour guide for this."

"That's... that's really kind of you... but shouldn't you use this time to rest?" (Y/n) raised her eyebrow but Ness just shook his head.

"I am not that tired. Besides, I have been living here in Munich for years, if anyone knows the city I do."

'Ahhhh.... how did Kaiser of all people attract his attention?' (Y/n) wondered as she watched the grinning boy.

Oliver:

Ever since the day Blue Lock took over U-20, the popularity of the team had grown among the general public. Ever since that day though, (Y/n) was getting pastered by Oliver more than it was needed. If she was told to help out while the boys trained, Oliver would try to chat. She couldn't even look at her phone without the boy asking for her number.

Today was a little different though. The Ubers had a big game with Manshine, and (Y/n) got an invite from Niko, Aryu and Baro to visit them before the game started and sit in the VIP part of the stadium. Everything was pretty normal, she greeted her friends after arriving, talked for a while before they got called by Snuffy to talk about some of their attacks.

'Something is off-'

"Well if it isn't Blue Lock's cutie, finally decided to leave the German team?"

Groaning (Y/n) turned to look at Oliver, who was leaning against the railing and looking down at her.

"I am here to cheer my friends on, and why are you here? Shouldn't you be over there with your team?" (Y/n) asked, a little unnerved by his smirk.

"And miss the opportunity to talk with ya? No way."

'I would love it if you did.' (Y/n) thought.

"Anyways, how long are you staying in Italy. We should go on a date." Oliver suddenly said.

"No thanks." (Y/n) answered back, earning a groan from the boy.

"Come on, how long are you going to play hard to get? It's getting boring."

"I am not playing hard to get." (Y/n) grimaced and leaned down to glare at him.

"I am not into players like you. You are unreliable to date... hell, I wouldn't trust you to take care of a stone. You might be talented in football, but that's the only nice thing I can say."

"That what you see on the news isn't the only thing about me-"

"Well you decide to put yourself out like this." (Y/n) cut him off, annoyed that he wasn't getting the hint.

"I have better things to do than waste my time with someone who could possibly be saying one thing and meaning another. Just leave me alone." (Y/n) said harshly. Oliver was about to answer back but Snuffy cut him off, saying how he needs to finish his warm-ups. Oliver sighed and nodded his head, ignoring the glares he was receiving from the 3 Blue Lock players.

'I feel so awful for saying all of that... but this might get him to leave me alone.'

'So I have to try harder now?! Come on!' Oliver thought to himself as he sent a few last glances towards (Y/n).

Sae:

"They are quite brutal today..." (Y/n) noted as she sat next to Rin. They both were invited by Sae to watch the match between Madrid and another Spanish team. Wincing at someone falling down again, (Y/n) turned to look at Rin, who had an annoyed look.

"Brother can be brutal when it comes to winning. It's honestly annoying after a while." The younger said, already knowing he was more willing to show off now that (Y/n) was there.

"Ahh... you can overdo it though." (Y/n) sweat dropped and clapped her hands as Madrid scored another point.

"Sae-san is really outdoing himself today, 3 out of the 4 goals." (Y/n) commented to herself,missing the way Rin's glare hardened.

"I will just go to the toilet. Wait for me here." Rin said as (Y/n) nodded her head, holding the boy's jacket until he comes back. The duo were waiting in a secluded area for Sae, as he wanted to invite them for dinner. Humming to herself, (Y/n) looked through the window, enjoying how calm everything looked now.

"Why are you alone?" Sae's voice came from behind and she turned around to greet him.

"Ahh your brother went to the toilet, he should be back in a bit." Sae nodded his head and took the jacket from her hands, frowning at it.

"You shouldn't be holding his things, he is old enough to take care of themselves. Also shouldn't have left you alone here either." Sae said in a monotonous voice as (Y/n) shook her head, not really seeing the big deal.

"It's alright, Rin is my friend and I don't mind watching his things. Also he didn't really leave me alone in an alleyway. But enough about that, you did amazing today, Sae-san! I never saw you play like that." (Y/n) said enthusiastically, not noticing the way Sae flinched at how formal she was with him.

'Right, we just recently became close... I don't expect her to see me as a friend yet, but I don't like the privileges Rin has over me.'

The older nodded his head, blushing a little at the compliments.

'But I still have time to get closer to her. Even closer than Rin is... that's a promise.'

[lvlyghost]

All The Nights to Come

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You get hurt during a mission.

Word Count: 900+

Tw: strong language, blood, angst, comfort towards the end. grumpy ghost as usual. bad grammar, and probably a lot of typos. not proofread 🫶🏻✨💞

A/N: just a little one-shot to help me with writer's block. next I'll be working on another part of salvation and a third part of the things i never said since a lot of you asked 🥹💛 remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍

Masterlist✨

You didn't know how to stay out of danger. Or at least that's what all of your teammates said. Especially Ghost.

Ghost. You had a complicated... relationship with the Lieutenant.

Polar opposites.

That's what he had called you both one day.

He's the darkness that comes at night, you're the light he'd gladly let consume him.

"Stop distracting me." He grumbles staring straight ahead. You chuckle at his growing annoyance.

"We're in the middle of nowhere, Ghost. The worst thing that could happen is tripping with a rock." You roll you eyes. "How about we play something, we still have one hour left until we reach the evac point."

"No."

"Comen on! There's no one around." He sighs, but doesn't say anything. You decide to not push his limits. You've started to know him more and more, as much as he would allow, of course. "Is something bothering you?" you finally ask, head tilting down to watch your step. Again the only response you get is silence. "If this is about what happened last night..."

"It's not that." He gruffly interrupts you. Irritated that you're even bringing it up.

"You were the one who said this couldn't happen anymore. So you might as well make up your mind Ghost." You walk faster, leaving him behind, or as much as you can considering his strides are easily longer than yours.

"I am your superior, what the fuck am I supposed to do, kid?" You clench your jaw, hating how his words are setting deep in your heart. The way he emphasized the word superior. "I could get us both suspended, or even worse get us kicked out of the military! Am I really the only one who's thinking?" He seethes.

"Oh well!" You feign amusement. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you cared enough when were fucking each other in my room..." Ghost's body freezes for a brief second before he keeps walking. "If you're bloody scared of letting me in you should've just said it. No need to fucking hurt me like I'm nothing."

"The fuck did you just say? Have you not heard a word I just told you?!" His accent becoming more prominent every time he speaks. "I'm trying to protect you, I don't bloody care what happens to me."

Ghost doesn't notice it, too enraged, looking down at you as he walks closer. But you do.

You see the reflection, a small glimpse of the scope. The sun shining down on the sniper's rifle. Everything moves in slow motion, you scream... or at least you try to, pushing Ghost with all the strength you have. He stumbles a few steps to the side, the pure shock in your face as you realize what's about to happen. A bird chirping in the distance, and what sounds like a cascade near, a river flowing before it hits you. Right on your left shoulder, a shot that was aimed at his heart.

Ghost's heart.

And you take it instead. It pierces through flesh and bones, hurting like million of bullets. Your sight goes black as you start falling, body helplessly hitting the muddy terrain. Shots are fired, a loud shriek and a deep voice echoing but it's so far away. It's getting harder to regain consciousness.

"Why the bloody hell did you do that!?" Fear glowed in his eyes. Ghost's big gloved hand pressing down the wound on your shoulder, the fabric quickly becomes stained with crimson red blood.

Your blood.

"S-Sir?" You choke up. Fighting to keep your eyes open.

Focus on him.

"I'm going to fucking have you on desk rotation for this." He grits his teeth. "Don't you do that ever again. Not for me. Never for someone like me." He leans closer, managing your body in his hands so he can take a better look. He breathes when he sees the exit wound.

"It's my duty..." you murmur, with half-lidded eyes. "To shield and protect my superiors..." you breathe out.

"Don't give me that shite." He scolds you. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect my team." Not just his team. The truth was that he wanted to protect you, he had to. "Now keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah? That's an order sergeant." He commands.

You laugh, with what low energy you have left.

"Sir? You and I both know I'm not good at following orders." He reaches his medical pouch, disinfecting and wrapping as many bandages as he can on your wound.

"Now's a good time you start listenin', kid." He picks you up with more gentleness that's he's ever experienced himself. Who would've thought that a man like him could care for someone else. He has the softest touch, you think. "Think you can hold on until we get there?" He asks, looking down to your face, body too small and light in his arms. If he could kiss you right now...

"Sure thing, Ghost." You murmur, wincing when he starts walking. "This is not what I had in mind when they said we were going to Spain. We could play that game now, right?

A soft chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, making your lips tilt up in a weak yet heartwarming smile.

"Fuckin' hell, love" he doesn't lose sight of your eyes. "I guess we can. As long as you keep talking to me. Don't you dare go somewhere I can't follow."

"Don't think you'll get rid of me that easily, Sir."

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

my issue with right now AAC advocacy, nonspeaking (autistic) advocacy (from individual advocate, to organization like communication first and assistive ware) (mainly outside tumblr), can all be summarize by their one phrase:

“presume competence.”

“wait, what wrong with that? isn’t it good? don’t they follow that?”

half yes. idea is good, hope everyone follow it, must: all disabled people should be give tool & help to learn, all diagnoses, all amount of struggle.

yes, “even” that person diagnose with severe autism & profound ID, who never speak or look like show sign of understand any language, who scream and make noise and run away all time, who give self & other many injury and broke bone and concussion.

but. me problem not with idea. have problem with, use two big complicate word as basic key important idea for movement: a movement for those who hard speech & communication.

this group, naturally mean have many people (more than “average” amount), who hard communicate, hard communicate big words, hard remember big words, hard understand big words.

“then just change name or explain idea, why say it summarize problem with entire movement?”

on tumblr, AAC user community, semi- & nonverbal/nonspeaking community, see lot people who not just struggle with mouth say word, but also with communicate hard. although less, and most borderline or mild, but do have a few people with ID who talk about ID. people with many layer disability, more affected. in fact, in some corner, we loud & seen here in community.

but. outside tumblr—like twitter, where majority AAC & nonspeaking advocacy get most hear, often influence even new AAC apps and AAC company and non profit and (US) law and (US) government groups. but also different organizations, and real life. so basically, people with bigger real life influence. this opposite.

it many life-long nonspeaking autistics with severe motor apraxia, who brain body disconnect cause mouth not able move make noise in way brain want. often diagnose with severe ID back when not able communicate, but now able full communicate, now realize have high IQ, use long sentence, complicate grammar, big words, who can “write right.” many who not be teach communicate or read, but able learn how read write, by self.

—who not speak because motor struggle, but “mind intact” (their word not mine), no fundamental expressive receptive language understand issue (edit: outsude not mouth speak), no intellectual cognitive issue?

they nonspeaking. they AAC user, or speller. yes, they deserve be in community. must be heard. people must realize this form of nonspeaking possible and many people like this. AAC nonspeaking community without them is still leave out people.

but. right now problem is: both them and allies, treat this form nonspeaking as only way be nonspeaking. all nonspeaking people like this. and what this group want (like be call nonspeaking and nonverbal wrong), need apply to all people who not able speak, because they seen as entirety nonspeaking community.

“all nonspeaking (autistic) people like this”—many times imply by never ever mention other “not speak” experience, but sometime even direct say (paraphrase). where my “not speak” friends who have expressive receptive language issues, who trouble communicate even with AAC, who don’t understand other and self communicate at all, who “mind not intact” (whatever that means), who ID not misdiagnose but is actual severe profound ID, who can’t learn AAC can’t ever functional communicate ever?

what about people who “not speak” not just because “motor but everything else fine,” but “motor AND expressive receptive language AND/OR intellectual”? people who don’t have all your abilities?

we not remembered. we not exist. we not talk about.

and this “ignore,” can be see in all area of their advocacy and movement.

the policing “no severe no functioning labels no levels no nonverbal ever they all bad no excuse”: all my friends who call own self by any of that been direct attack harmed many many times by people who say this, so no, there no “personal identify okay” exception. this silence us. anytime we mention how we dare call self, all what we actual say ignored, actual message ignored, and become argue over terms call us ableist, and lock us out block us crowd attack us harrass us—us with communication issues who words hard first place, and who often have big emotional regulate struggle.

harass us lock us out enough. of course we silent, of course we no longer write in community. of course “community” no have us, no one see us. no one know we exist.

the big words. complicate sentences. complicate ideas. everything confuse. overwhelm even parents without intellectual & communication struggles who want learn to help child. not to mention us, who “not speak” include receptive language issues and intellectual disability.

write enough big words. write enough complicate stuff. write enough confuse hard follow stuff. of course we who can’t understand that get frustrate. and stop read. stop be in community.

have ability write professional enough, write approximate closest to nondisabled people enough. not have ID. all advantages that make people listen you more, take you more seriously. but this advantage, or fact this even is advantage that some not have, they not recognize.

whether mean to or not. became “am nonspeaking and proud, but at least have high IQ mind intact and can write ‘normal,’ so still have worth still deserve listen to because still have those redeeming abilities.” —what about those us who don’t?

“what that do with term ‘presume competence’?”

presume competence key idea, root of movement & advocacy.

presume competence, big words, not everyone who struggle speak can say/speak/write/communicate these two words. not all can remember. not all understand. some, will never ever able communicate or understand these two exact words ever in life, even with best support most help.

key slogan of movement, inaccessible to group of people you claim advocate for. same group people you also ignore pretend not exist erase in your advocacy.

this how deep this exclusion and inaccessibility issue run in nonspeaking advocacy.

down to its roots.

[this about nonspeaking movement (especially outside tumblr) and people who do this exclusion + inaccessibility. this not say term nonspeaking bad or all individual nonspeaking person bad.]