#i already have copies of all of them i do NOT need to have them on my phone also

[juniperskye]

Come bother me, baby.

Based on the following post: Inspo  you are the bane of young Aaron's existence - back when he was just an agent under Gideon and Rossi. A pain in his ass…so when you transfer to avoid your feelings for him, he begs you to come back. Okay listen, I know that Hotch didn’t really work under Rossi in the beginning, as Rossi had already left…but we’re all gonna pretend for the sake of this fic. Also – Haley just never existed in this, and that’s ok.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 4164

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, female reader, she/her pronouns, age gap (Hotch is 28 and reader is 25), some explicit language, canon typical violence, mentions of case details, reader has experienced the loss of her parents, mention of holidays, mention of food/eating. Mention of reader being a mom, inaccurate timelines, let me know if I missed anything!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

July 1993

The year was 1993, Jason Gideon and David Rossi were just granted permission to hire two agents to expand the team. They agreed that they would each pick an agent, that way there’d be no room to argue. They interviewed a total of 17 potential candidates, 13 of those were interviewed by Rossi and the other 4 by Gideon.

Aaron Hotchner had been the 7th file in Rossi’s stack, it was an impressive resume, one that was filled with cases he’d worked as a prosecutor, and then a number of cases he’d worked as a profiler in the Seattle Field office. He now was here in Quantico, Virginia, hoping to gain a spot on the BAU. To Rossi, Aaron had stood out amongst the others, he’d sat through all 13 interviews, and nobody could match the passion for this position like Aaron had. It had been an easy choice.

You had been the 2nd file in Gedeon’s stack, and honestly he’d been let down by his first candidate…so when you walked in, more than qualified for this position, he excused the other two candidates.  He didn’t feel the need to interview them, his gut told him you were the right choice. Your file had been padded with your numerous degrees varying from bachelor's degrees in psychology and criminology, to a master’s degree in forensic psychology, ending with a PhD in psychology. For the last year you’d been working in the Phoenix field office as a profiler. And while you didn’t have a ton of field experience, Gideon had been thoroughly impressed with your tenacity and overall enthusiasm for the profession.  

--

September 1993

Things had started off okay…mostly. Aaron definitely treated you like you were a child, though you were only three years younger than him. While you’d spent a lot of time expanding your knowledge of this field, Aaron had worked as a prosecutor immediately after his completion of law school. You weren’t sure why he thought he was so much better than you…you were a doctor after all.

It had started in the most dismissive way possible. You’d accidentally spilled your coffee at the round table, it had spread fast, covering his copy of the latest case file. You apologized immediately, offered him your copy while you went to print another. He shook his head at you, muttering something along the lines of you being young and unprofessional.

You had thought about going to Gideon to complain but ultimately decided against it. It would only make him see you as more of a child. So, you’d worked your ass off to prove yourself, you needed to show him that you were an asset to the BAU and not a liability.

--

May 1994

“I think this unsub is female.” You stated confidently.

“Are you insane?” Aaron scoffed.

“Before you completely dismiss me Hotch, hear me out.”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed.

You had to physically wipe the smirk from your face before explaining your theory to the team. You’d pointed out how meticulous everything had been, how much care had gone into the murders and the disposals.

“If we really break everything down, it’s all done with so much care. The bodies haven’t just been dumped, they’ve been cleaned, redressed, and neatly placed in beautiful locations. The field of flowers, the hillside, by the art installation at the park.” You’d gestured to the photos pinned on the corkboard.

Looking around you could see the impressed look Gideon was wearing, it was bordering smug as he turned his gaze over to Rossi with a nod. Rossi couldn’t do anything other than shrug – you’d made a good point, who was he to question your expertise. But then there was Aaron…he was looking around in disbelief, nobody was even going to question it?

Aaron was pissed that you had been right. Three days after that briefing, you taken Helena Murphy into custody. She had lost her siblings in a car accident when she was in her teens, and a recent fender bender had been her trigger. She’d been taking the lives of young people who had resembled her siblings and laid them to rest somewhere beautiful…unlike the highway guardrail that had ultimately taken her family from her all those years ago.

Gideon and Rossi both gave you kudos for narrowing down the profile the way you had. The police officers at the Milwaukee PD had congratulated you and subsequently thanked you for your hard work. Aaron wouldn’t even look at you.

Needless to say, the flight home was tense.

--

August 1994

“Ugh it is soooo hot!” You whined, fanning yourself with a loose manila folder.

“Would you stop that?” Aaron asked.

“Stop what?” You feigned innocence.

“Bothering me! Your fanning is blowing all my papers around, just cut it out.” He huffed.

“Sure, thing Hotch.” You offered a sickly-sweet smile.

“Don’t call me that!” He shook his head and continued his report.

You stood from your desk and removed your blazer, showing off the fitted tank top you’d been wearing underneath. You made your way up to the kitchenette to retrieve some ice water and the ice pack from your lunchbox. At this point, you’d do anything to cool off.

You sat back down at your desk, sipping the water and crunching on the ice, while shifting the icepack from your chest to your neck. Aaron was so distracted by your constant moving that he had to speak up again. But as his gaze landed on you, he was rendered speechless…only for a moment, but it was enough time for him to notice the way the condensation from the icepack had dripped down your chest and when you slid it back to your neck, he could see the effect the could had on your breasts. His throat went dry.

“Stop messing around, it’s distracting.” He ordered.

“You’re no fun Hotch.”

“Would you just stop bothering me? You’re doing it on purpose now.” He sighed.

“Oh, fine.” You conceded.

--

November 1994

You made your way into the FBI building, hanging on one arm is your go bag, packed and ready to go. On the other arm is your purse, struggling to stay up on your shoulder as you held onto a basket filled with baked goods.

“Happy Holidays Jim!” You greeted, handing him a loaf of pumpkin bread.

“Thanks doll, you too! Did you get called in?” Jim, the head of security, asked.

“No, not yet anyway. I just figured I’d stop by.” You shrugged.

“You weren’t celebrating?” He questioned.

“Oh, um no, not this year.”

“Well doll, thanks for the pumpkin bread. Happy thanksgiving.” Jim smiled.

You made your way around, passing out different backed goods to people you saw every day, Maureen the receptionist, Mike from IT, and Sandra who was the director’s assistant. You’d even gone as far as bringing something for the BAU team members in the event that you did get called in.

Speaking of…

Gideon rushed into the bullpen of the sixth floor, in his haste he nearly missed the slight step down into the main section of the floor where your and Aaron’s desks sat. He was ferociously pressing the buttons on his pager – surely sending a page to the team informing them of the newest case.

Your suspicions were confirmed when yours beeped from your desk, drawing yours and Gideon’s attention.

“Jesus, I didn’t realize you were here. What are you doing here already?” Gideon asked.

“No reason to celebrate…I thought I could make myself useful here.” You shrugged and offered Gideon a container of gingersnaps.

“Thanks kid. Can you go get the files from Anderson?” Gideon requested.

“Of course, sir.”

Aaron arrived next; shock evident on his face when he saw you coming back from retrieving the files. He was about to make a snarky comment about you being here so early when Rossi came in behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

--

The four of you were on the plane heading to Oklahoma, you were seated next to Gideon, going over the file, passing theories back and forth. Aaron was sat next to Rossi, stewing in a feeling the bordered annoyance.

“I can feel the steam blowing out of your ears.” Rossi teased.

“Sorry I just don’t get it…she got there so fast. She just – she just bothers me.” Aaron huffed.

“She was already there kid, she was at the BAU before Gideon even got there, he told me.” Rossi explained.

“What do you mean she was already there? Why would she have been at the office already?”

“I assume to keep herself busy. She lost her parents when she was in college, so she doesn’t really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with. She brought everyone at the office treats.” Rossi smiled, popping another bite of his banana nut muffin into his mouth.

“I didn’t know. That’s uh-that’s…” Aaron didn’t quite know what to say.

“Check your bag Hotch.” Rossi smiled and went back to his file.

Placed neatly in the outer pocket of Aaron’s bag was a cellophane bag containing snickerdoodles, his favorite. A red ribbon tied the bag closed and attached to it was a small note…

Sorry for bothering you all the time. Hopefully these can make up for a little bit of it.

Aaron took a bit of one of the cookies., rolling his eyes because, of course, they were perfect. He couldn’t help but feel bothered by your inability to be bad at something.

--

February 1995

You hated valentine’s day, it had always been a sore spot, all your friends swooning over the overpriced chocolate and roses that their boyfriends would get them. Not you though, you hadn’t received a valentine since freshman year of high school when Mathew Smith taped a rose to your locker. Matt had been nice and all, but he was looking for something…unserious.

You got yourself dressed and dragged yourself to the BAU. Everyone was so chipper as you entered the building, greeting you…but you met the majority of them with a scowl. Stepping off the elevator and going over to your desk, surprise overcoming you as you’re met with peonies and a pack of razzles. You moved them around, trying to find the note, coming across a yellow sticky note.

I thought these could be repayment for the pens you got me for Christmas.    -Hotch

You smiled at the signature, he’d hated when you called him Hotch, you’d been the first to do so and he was annoyed at how unprofessional it had initially seemed, he’d tell you not to call him that and claim you bothered him on purpose, but as Rossi and Gideon joined in with the nickname, he slowly grew to like you…it!

Aaron sat at his desk, plopping into his chair with a sigh. Your gaze lifted to meet his, a timid smile gracing your features.

“Hotch”

“Don’t bother me today.”

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

--

May 1995

May and June had become your least favorite months of the year. After losing your parents, you thought Christmas would be hard, and it was…but you’d found friends in school who would celebrate with you.

It was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day that killed you. People didn’t invite their orphaned friend over to celebrate those holidays with their family because…well because that’s weird.

These two months brought with them the painful reminder that your parents were gone.

Truthfully, you’d been glad to get the page letting you know that a case came in, it would have been a welcomed distraction…if it hadn’t been in your hometown.

Aaron could see how tense you were. He was trying to profile you, figure out what had you so worked up. He knew this time of year had to be difficult for you, seeing as Rossi told him you lost your mom. But he could tell there was something deeper, rooted within you.

It took some time, but after sitting back and observing, he figured it out. A few different officers knew you by name and were on a first-name basis with you. You’d been extremely familiar with the layout of the city, not needing directions to the location you’d gone to earlier. This must be your hometown.

--

“Alright guys, nice job today. So, we are flying out first thing tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Rossi said.

You were slow to pack up, gathering your things, chatting with a few of the officers before heading out of the precinct. You didn’t really know what to do, you didn’t want to go back to the hotel, but you also didn’t want to go around town. You had too many memories here, it was too hard to go around and picture all the times you had with your parents around here.

“Hey, you want to go for a drive with me?” Aaron asked

You couldn’t even mask the shock as it etched its way across your features.

“Sure.”

At first you had no idea where Aaron was heading, the drive feeling unfamiliar…but then all at once you’d figured it out. He was driving to Blue Grove Cemetery.

“What the hell are you doing? Why are we here?” You questioned, anxiety lacing your words.

“Look, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to go through May and June, now that they’re gone. I thought it might be nice for you to see them before we head back tomorrow.” Aaron explained.

So many feelings were running through you. Initially anger, why would he blindside you like this. But then that morphed into panic, you didn’t want Hotch to see this side of you, the weak and vulnerable side. But lastly was this weird warmth…it was slow moving like molasses, sticking to every part of your body.

--

Aaron parked and let you control the pace. He waited to move until you reached for the handle on the door, slowly exiting the SUV. You stood there, still, unmoving, unsure if you could do this. Aaron grabbed a bag out of the back seat before walking around to meet you where you stood.

“I’m sorry, I – I don’t…”

“Hey,” Aaron placed his hand on your shoulder gently. “Take your time.”

You nodded at him gratefully.

Eventually you began to move, leading Aaron through the cemetery. You’d passed headstone after headstone until you came to a stop at their gravesite, resting just below a beautiful tree, offering just enough shade to allow you respite from the heat.  

Aaron laid out a small blanket, letting you sit first, hesitating for a beat.

“You can sit…please.” You asked, more than told.

Aaron sat next to you silently. He pulled the bag in front of the two of you, removing its contents, a sandwich cut in half, a bag of kettle chips (your favorite) and lastly two diet cokes. As you watched him, you smiled, you may bother him once in a while…okay all the time…but he cared. Whether he’d admit it or not.

The two of you sat there, eating, enjoying the cool breeze that the afternoon offered. After some time had passed, you found yourself telling Aaron about your parents. How your mom loved to bake, and she would tell you that food brought people together. You told him how your dad did everything himself, he never called in a specialist for everything.

Aaron chimed in with how you’d clearly taken after them and it made you an incredible profiler…and there it was again, that warm feeling.

You’d recognized it… it was the same feeling that bloomed within you on valentine’s day, and before that, on Christmas. You’d bought hotch these really fancy fountain pens he’d mentioned in passing and he got you a coat, a nice warm one, since you didn’t seem to own one.

This warm, sticky, sweet feeling was rearing its ugly head…and you were pretty sure it was called love.

--

July 1995

That warm feeling had burrowed its way deep into your core and you were freaking out. You’d been doing everything you could to act normal around Hotch, you were worried you’d been failing miserably.

“I think your agent has a crush on my agent…” Rossi said to Gideon, peaking out the window of his office.

“That’s interesting, because I am pretty sure your agent has feelings for my agent.” Gideon challenged.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?”

“Not any time soon.”

--

You flicked a paper football over your screen onto Hotch’s desk. He glanced up at you, only his gaze didn’t hold its usual annoyance, instead there was something that mirrored amusement written there.

“Are you trying to bother me some more?” Aaron asked.

“Um, yes. That’s my job; to bother you…didn’t you get the memo?” You teased.

“I must have missed that one.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

You went back to your report, working diligently. All of two minutes passed before the paper football knocked against your hand as it landed on your desk. You laughed and shook your head gently, there was that stupid feeling again.

--

October 1995

Your knuckles rapped gently against Gideon’s office door. You were shaking, your stomach twisted at the thought of what you were about to do. It had taken you a little while to figure out the best option…knowing that it wouldn’t be professional to continue working with Hotch with these feelings you had for him.

You’d looked at all the openings here at Quantico, trying to figure out which position would best suit you. Ultimately, counterterrorism was looking for someone with a background in psychology, so it just made sense. Which brings you to now, you were about to go into Gideon’s office and request the transfer.

“Come in.”

“Hey Gideon, I uh…I need to talk to you about something.” You stumbled a bit.

“Go ahead.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

You sat, taking a steadying breath. “I’m requesting a transfer. To counterterrorism.”

“No.”

“Gideon, you-”

“No.” He began. “I am not going to sign a transfer request for you, especially not to counterterrorism, you have exceptional skills, and we need them here.”

“Gideon, I have to transfer. I feel – I have…” You trailed off as your eyes found Aaron beyond the window in the bullpen. “I can’t work with him, not when I feel like this.”

Gideon took a deep breath, looking at you and taking in the longing gaze you wore. He didn’t fully understand what thoughts were running through your head, but if this is what you felt you needed to do, he wasn’t going to stop you. You were a very strong and capable agent…he trusted your judgement.

“How much longer do we have you here at the BAU?” He asked waving for you to hand him the paper.

“Two weeks.” You sighed. “I’m sorry Gideon.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re smart and you need to do what is best for you.”

--

November 1995

“Alright guys we have a case, round table in five.” Rossi called out into the bullpen.

You gathered your things, knowing you wouldn’t be travelling with them for this case. You figured you’d sit through the round table, offer a few theories and then let them go on their way.  Aaron watched you slowly grabbing a legal pad and your signature pink pen, he chuckled grabbing his own paper and one of the fountain pens from the set you bought him.

“Before we begin I just want to say that I am so proud of how you have grown and flourished with this team, and while it is a huge loss for the BAU, counterterrorism is lucky to have you.” Gideon stated, looking at you.

“What? You-you’re transferring?” Aaron asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“When…when are you leaving?” He asked.

“Today is my last day.” Your gaze shifted to your lap.

“We can talk about this later, let’s go over the facts of the case.” Gideon demanded.

Through the entire briefing Aaron’s eyes were burning into you. He couldn’t focus on the fact of this case because he was completely hung up on the fact that yours wouldn’t be the face across from him anymore…you weren’t going to be there to flick paper footballs at him, or to hum songs all day, to crunch annoyingly on baby carrots. Who was going to bother him if you were gone?

After you finished going over the case, you couldn’t help the sting behind your eyes, slowly realizing that this was it, your time at the BAU was done. But you held your head up high and steeled yourself. You offered Gideon a handshake, Rossi pulled you into a tight hug, and Aaron…well he brushed by you with a curt nod.

--

Aaron was miserable throughout the entirety of the two weeks they were away on this case. He was moping, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Rossi and Gideon shared a knowing look, thankful that he was finally figuring it out.

They hadn’t quite expected it to take him so long to do something about it.

--

December 1995

The bullpen was so quiet without you. Aaron felt uneasy; he was the only one in the center of the floor now that you were gone. His file going long forgotten as he sat back and thought about things for a bit…

When he first saw you, you’d entered the elevator at the same time for your interviews, you’d offered a quiet thank to him for holding the elevator for you and he couldn’t deny then how cute you were. But then you’d both been hired on as profilers and he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to think that anymore, so he shoved the feeling down.

Then you spilled your coffee all over the table, effectively ruining his file, but you’d cursed, burning your hand as you quickly tried to clean it up. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you it would be okay, so he fled.

It was so many things after that, your intelligence and the passion you had for profiling. Your baking, always noting people’s favorites and bringing them sweets, just to see them smile. The way you listened, remembering something he’d brought up in passing and gone out of your way to order his favorite pens.

Oh shit. He was in love with you. He’d fallen in love with you and had been too stupid to realize it.

--

Aaron moved with a purpose, rushing through the FBI building, making his way up the two flights of stairs it took to get to counterterrorism. He burst through the door, drawing attention to himself, his eyes frantically scanning the room in search of you.

He moved forward, noticing you across the room. He reached you in a few long strides, stopping just before you.

“Hotch…what are you doing here?” You looked around, blushing profusely.

“Sweetheart, you need to come back to the BAU.”

“I can’t…Aaron I-”

“I know that I have given you no reason to believe this, but I love you sweetheart. I need you to come back to the BAU, come back and bother me, baby.”

“No.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well yes.”

“Aaron, no.”

“Yes! Come bother me, baby. Bother me for the rest of my life.” Aaron begged. His hands reaching forward to cup your face.

“Okay” You gasped.

Aaron pulled you into a kiss, the agents surrounding you erupting in cheers for the both of you.

--

Bonus scene – May 2016

“Happy Mother’s Day sweetheart.”

“Happy Mother's Day mom!”

“Thank you guys!” You smiled, feeling nothing but joy looking to those who surrounded you.

Before you was your incredible husband and your three children, two sons and a daughter. They had gotten up early to make breakfast for you before they headed off to school. There had been a bouquet of peonies, cards, and a pack of razzles.

“Jack, are you okay to get Zoey to school today? We got called in pretty early.” You asked.

“Yeah mom! I have practice though, so Jason and Zoey might have to hang out a while.”

“Don’t worry about that bud, Will offered to pick them up when he picks up Michael.” Aaron patted Jack on the shoulder.

“Alright kids, we will see you later, be safe and please text me when you get to school!” You called, heading out the door with Aaron hot on your tail.

--

Aaron and you made your way into the BAU hand-in-hand. You glanced around at this team you built together, and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron made his way toward his office, noticing you’d stopped and before he could say anything, Dave clapped him on the back.

“Leave her be. She’s admiring this family you’ve built together.”

You looked over to where Aaron and Dave stood, offering a bright smile. You then made your way down to the floor, greeting Emily, JJ, Derek, Spencer and Penelope.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

 “I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I��ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her.  “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?”  she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren��t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

[punkpandapatrixk]

🥖Establishing Your Identity ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

I promise you there isn’t a single thing that’s exciting about being a copy of someone else’s elegance or magnificence🌹Since that in itself is already effort anyway, if you must establish a unique identity, why not stay true to your Divinity?🌻After all, isn’t everybody already singularly UNIQUE within themselves?🌸Just as a tulip isn’t to be compared to a jasmine or a magnolia, each specimen of flowers is fully accepted to be uniquely BEAUTIFUL in its own way~🌷

As a human woman, all you need to do to become the highest expression of your DIVINE BEAUTY, is to think like a flower… DECENTRE THE OPINIONS OF THE PATRIARCHY, BIH!🥖🥖🥖

Who the fuck cares what some penis-wielding creature thinks a woman can or can’t do?🐙Why should you allow the self-restrictions of femcel women define the limits of your personal interests?🦐

In this world that’s only forgotten the value of individual beauty, never underestimate the importance of YOUR unique imprint~🐾Being individually, organically, singularly and identifiably ORIGINAL in a garden of factory-produced plastic flowers is possibly the greatest, most valuable gift of fragrance you could share with the Divine Femmes of this world~💐

Psst...did you know that flowers are an enlightened expression of plants? Yup.

music: Like A Flower by Red Velvet IRENE

film: Flowers (2010)

deck-bottom: XI Judgement Rx, Gold Astronomer (John Dee), Priestess of Healing

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Sweet Thorny Rose Who's Only for the Strong

vibe: Mafia In the morning by ITZY

seeds of Light – 6 of Cups

A bit dramatic. A bit over-emotional. More often than not, you’re super chaotic on the inside! Do you realise that you possess the superpower of HILARITY?🤪Yup, apparently that’s a word. You’re…rather unexpectedly…friendly, and actually pretty funny once people get to know you. Your hilarity, when displayed to the right people, can be panacea to their insecurity, confusion and even heartbreak🌿Oh my gosh, isn’t that a rare superpower—because obviously not that many people have your special kind of social intelligence!🐬

Most of all, you’re somebody who’s fiercely loyal to yourself! In the way that you simply exist, you sow the seeds of loyalty-to-self in the hearts and minds of those who are similar to yourself but lacking courage🦔In this world, people get swayed by external opinions, expectations and all that shit (blame the media, culture or whatever) and they become very doubtful of their worth and place in the world, so your particular kind of confidence in your sense of humour and self can be deeply healing, on top of inspirational~🌞

The thing about your confidence is, no matter what is at stake or what you have to sacrifice, you won’t let even the most expert manipulators, gaslighters or enablers bend and beat you into whatever stupid shape they wish you to be👻You stay true to your heart and vision no matter what it costs you to ‘lose’ in a battle of wit. You can ride the wave but you won’t lose yourself in the sauce. You never let society’s dictation—which is often highly unintelligent—influence your dreams or ideas about how you wanna go about Life~🧠

And that’s…how you win the war over your psyche! Now tell me how this isn’t a thing of the superheroes?🦄

growing and glowing – 7 of Pentacles Rx

In your boss babe aenergy, you tell yourself, every day, that you decide the pace of what you want to see manifest in your world. It sounds crazy and if you’re met with the wrong people, they’re gonna assume you’re a narc or a self-serving megalomaniac—but the whole time, you’re just a SIGMA or some shit🤪You’re the type of person who doesn’t require even an ounce of other people’s approving look to know that what you’re thinking for yourself is right. You, don’t even respond well to rules and orders that have ‘unreasonable’ written all over them🥴

And about ‘hard work’ or ‘hustle culture’? Well, if whatever is being discussed involves a lack of intelligence or sensibility, you ain’t buying it. It isn’t to say you can’t work hard at anything—it is to say that you will only devote yourself to endeavours that truly matter at the core of their conception🫀You don’t even buy this whole ‘work smart not hard’ narrative; for you, it’s always been about whether or not an effort is meaningful to your growth or the growth of the community in the grand scheme of everything. That, is how BIG your thinking gets🤯

And this is exactly what most people can’t even begin to grasp. People often frustrate you. And more likely than not, if you remain clear about these values of yours, you may be shunned by those that are weak and lazy in their minds🧳Their loss. You ain’t even interested in working or even walking with them slow ass fools—although you do possess enough empathy to understand that such fools are just afraid. But oh well~ can’t let other people’s Realities slow you down, now can you? So just like that, you keep on flying higher like a motherfucker🚀lmao

enlightened crown – King of Pentacles

Oh, you are certain to be richie rich at some point in Life—even if you had come from poverty, for instance, but that’s not the point. You’ve got this tenacity in you that’s obviously gonna be rewarded by some financial abundance in this lifetime. ‘Richie Bitchie’ is written all over your birth chart—go check, maybe you have strategic Capricorn/Saturn placements?🪐Anyway, keep your ‘genius hustle’ all to yourself and remember that you don’t gotta share your secret sauce to abundance with nobody who don’t respect you for you, OK?🍅🌶🥫

You’re free to live for yourself, in a paradise of your own making, with only your people—you know what I’m saying? When it comes to other people’s company, I always say: ‘Never chase after anybody’s attention. Let them prove themselves worthy of your affection.’ Then again, who am I to even be telling you this?🤡Your mind is strong and you already know all of this. Maybe you just need to be validated/reminded every now and then, so you don’t feel so alone in your ‘sigma’ aenergy🎃

Anyway, in a world so social, surely every one of us needs to compromise every now and then—after all, we live in society. But I think, you shouldn’t ever give in to its rules and expectations when it comes to your guarding your values🛡It’s weird how some people be making it sound like being assertive or introverted or shy or a loner is a crime—the world has bigger problems than girls liking their own company and focused on their personal goals🤹

UNLOCKING SUPERPOWERS🔻💜

courage to be yourself – Silver Historian (Polydore Vergil)

always be alright – Priestess of Luxury

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – The Caterpillar Who Became the Butterfly Who Became a Dragon

vibe: New Woman by LISA

seeds of Light – XVII The Star

Hello, natural-born Superstar!🎇Do you have strong Aquarius placements or 11H Stellium? Maybe you have strategic fame-degrees in your natal chart? 5°, 17°, and 29° are three of the most common ‘fame degrees’ in astrology, so you might wanna check that out, too. Basically, since your preconception, you were written to be a trailblazer of sort. It doesn’t matter the capacity or the variety—you were designed to achieve some level of publicity or notoriety in this lifetime🎳huehue

For that very reason, in this incarnation, you were never meant to be static, just this one thing that appeals to everybody’s palates. Part of your ‘blueprint’ involves constantly changing and transforming yourself, your paradigms, again and again, numerous times until you become one again with your Higher Self whilst in a physical form💞REINVENTION is your middle name. You are boundlessly creative and fresh! Although sometimes you may get exhausted…

That said, if you’re somebody who isn’t easily defined, it’s only because you’re too ORIGINAL. It’s because you’re a PROTOTYPE fresh out of the blueprint; people are still catching up with figuring you out~🧬hahah But that’s what’s really exciting about being BORN EXTRAORDINARY, right? Many would love to be reborn as something similar to you in their next lives, did you know that?🎈

growing and glowing – 6 of Pentacles

The reason that you’re a prototype, which obviously can be quite a lonely experience, is that your Soul wanted to bring more extraordinary colours to the whole Human Experience itself. Your Soul saw and understood how drab and dull the lives of many on Earth look to the Celestials, so you came down to contribute something more exciting~☄️That was all, really. Uplifting of the human spirit, so that their eyes become upgraded enough to perceive more colours of Love~🌈

Prototypes are rarely the most popular things or people, but one thing for sure is that they’re remembered, venerated almost, as the ones who started this new thing no one had even thought about. Prototypes are ones forever remembered as a positive force of change; the opener of new pathways of thinking or being, breathing, living, expressing~🍏Of all the Piles, you really came down here to be of service—first and foremost by just being yourself😘

The truth of the matter is, it’s enough that you’re here. And if you really feel a pull towards that fame and notoriety, all you need to do right now is keep doing this one thing that’s most authentic to your Soul. Keep at it until you become so masterful at it the world can’t help but MANIFEST you into the world stage so people can actually benefit from your Lightwork! Crazy, right? But it’s really that easy! You really be magical like that, hoe~🤩

enlightened crown – 8 of Wands Rx

The 8 of Wands in reverse here is basically saying: ‘close your ears to the world!’🙉hahah No, no, it isn’t telling you to become a narc—it’s saying that you can safely listen to your Heart’s whisper when it comes to establishing your identity in this loudly confused world~🙈Babe, you’re the voice of reason that’s meant to tear down the old paradigm of boredom, where’s the sense in you instead following the crowds?🙊Ya got that?

If you’re going to grow and bloom into anything magnificent at all, might as well grow and bloom into the most enlightened expression of Yourself🌺Be honest, speak your truth, don’t get yourself killed lmao The way to immortality, the way to remaining evergreen in the minds of those still living on Gaia, is through being the most ICONIC person to ever walk there. And you can only be that way if you’re honest to your heart to boot🌼

Let yourself grow day by day, breathing deeply at every moment, and should the occasion arise, always be ready to paint yourself anew, to serve a new era of Mankind, where people actually get to establish their Heaven on Earth through conscious choices that reflect the Divinity within🐛Remember that you are the Prototype—one day all of Humanity is going to be just like you🦋But for now, you’re the caterpillar who turned into a butterfly who became a DRAGON!🐉

UNLOCKING SUPERPOWERS🔻💚

courage to be yourself – Silver Astrologer (John Dee)

always be alright – Priestess of Patience

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Sensitive and Strong Shine On Soft Spectre of Surreal Sunshine

vibe: Mantra by JENNIE

seeds of Light – 5 of Pentacles

Oh, you silly goose🦆On the outside you look unrealistically beautiful and almost intimidating, but on the inside, you’re just a smol hamster who wants to be friends with everybody🐹At the core of your being, you’re thee definition of a girl’s girl—anybody would be lucky to have you as a friend. You’re loyal as fuck. But hey, society is rife with losers, right? Your looks have gotten you misunderstood and hated for literally the lamest reasons. That’s a little ‘problem’ we could have for being a natural-born Royalty—those with a peasant mentality tend to harbour resentment to those they recognise as possessing an ✨EXPENSIVE✨ aura. You know that, right?🌛

Thing is, you’re not at all intimidating like Gordon Ramsay or Marco Pierre White or Anna Wintour. You’re a different kind of intimidating altogether. You’re sweet, beautiful, polite and friendly, basically you’re a ray of sunshine. People think you’re gullible—whoops!💀With you, it isn’t just a matter of status or accomplishment, but that people hate with a passion women like you who know exactly what you’re worth. Your standards for almost every aspect of your own existence are sky-high! Babe, you are the standard of existence🪁

Women like you are rare and should be cherished as a role model for young girls. High-quality Human female who not only possesses a good heart and brains but also has the audacity to own your pretty!🩰What’s society gonna do with a mutiny like this? Woman was supposed to take a supporting role and remain eternally humble and doubting herself so that man could take on the role of uplifting her from her 'default' confusion, right?🎣

Men have composed sleazy scriptures to confound the Divine Feminine; how dare you sing against their gospel?😫pffft

growing and glowing – Knight of Pentacles

Keep confounding them then. Give ‘em a taste of their own medicine, gurl. See, people think you’re gullible or stupid, right? That makes everything a lot easier—because in reality, you’re the kinda gal who strategizes immaculately, all while thinking to yourself: ‘This is how big girls play. If you can’t play the big games, go away.’ Actually, you take great pleasure in outdoing everybody if only you’d vocalise this😜Buuut, you’re too graceful for that~🤭

You’ve got sense. You’re superbly intelligent. You were most likely born rich or have that presence about you that gets everybody thinking: ‘Surely one day she’s gonna be stupid rich.’🫦Beware of leeches at every turn, girl! You’ve gotta be able to admit to yourself that not everybody’s gonna have your best interest at heart, OK? You could totally be targeted for your resources when people realise that they can’t even begin to compete with you on an even ground, let alone WIN against you. And that’s truly, really the sad part of all of this…🩸

Because you never wanted to compete with anybody. If you’ve ever competed with anybody it is with the you of yesterday. People are weird to be feeling a sense of competition with you, because the whole time, you chose to be born at this passage of time exactly to uplift other women—to awaken them from their own complicity in upholding the patriarchy. To simplify, and if you’ve never thought of this before, let this be the first time you’re hearing it…

enlightened crown – 9 of Wands Rx

Women who are inclined to feel inferior to you are those who possess a femcel psychology deep inside of them. These are the dangerous pick-mes, queen-mes, and malignant female narcs and manipulators. These types of women seek to be a harbinger of chaos in the lives of PRETTY GURLS like you. Don’t be wasting your time on these Ghislain Maxwell wannabes if you wanna live a prosperous Life!🤠

This that pretty girl mantra. Pretty girls don’t do drama… ‘less we wanna

Yup, ‘less you wanna and it’ll be depending on the type. ‘Bring the drama only if it’ll make me munny’📞lmao You smart like that. Drama is a hustle. Hustling can be dramatic. Reputation on the line? Might as well gain something out of it, so that whichever way the wind blows, you WIN BIG either way. Total boss babe move🚬

You’d never let people waste your time. Since dealing with people is exhausting anyway, you gotta make sure that you get some kind of compensation. Hmm I’m sure you’ve got some strategic, auspicious Capricorn/Saturn/10H placements hahah Jennie Kim, Jang Wonyoung and Lily-Rose Depp come to mind when I think about your aenergy. Such unfailingly kind, optimistic and beautiful aenergy~🎀

UNLOCKING SUPERPOWERS🔻💗

courage to be yourself – Silver Physician (John Dee)

always be alright – Priestess of Opulence

Access bonus, cards + affs on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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[vettelsvee]

THE CALL OF LOVE | Sebastian Vettel

Primary School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is the cool, annoying, extroverted teacher, while you are the shy, introverted and perfectionist one. Seb phones you all the time because he wants to get closer with you somehow but, also, he knows that you suffer from pretty bad anxiety and wants to respect your boundaries. However, when you have to go to Seb's class and ask him for help after your classroom becomes pure chaos, he finds the perfect opportunity to become closer with you... only to find out that, definitely, you want to get closer with him as well even your anxiety says otherwise ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE TODAY!

WORD COUNT: 4798

WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, curse words. Lots of fluff (I loved this Seb btw).

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist @awnmaneez

VEE'S NOTES: Third Teacher!Seb fic in a row since you asked! Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all the love you're giving to this, really, I'm so grateful <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Although it wasn’t enough for many, you were more than happy being a teacher at one of the most well-known schools in Heppenheim, a small town in Germany. 

Now that you had achieved your dream, all you wanted was things to flow perfectly. The main problem? Your anxiety and constant need for perfection, which were the most notable things about you. On top of that, there was the strict routine that was almost impossible to deviate from. However, the real problem lay in everything related to socializing... not with your students or their parents, but with the rest of the teachers.

Sebastian Vettel, the teacher of the other 2nd grade class, had also started working there that same year. Although you initially thought your relationship would be a calm one, the reality was far from that. Seb was the complete opposite of you: a walking chaos, with more than enough confidence and a charm that made him some kind of superhero to his students.

You tried your best to keep a professional relationship with him, but it was impossible. When you wanted to do a project on biodiversity with perfectly structured activities aligned with the curriculum, Seb preferred to take them outside to let them see it for themselves. If you thought it would be a great idea for them to write a small essay about Christmas, Seb preferred to show them a movie because, in his words, “they would have time to write when they’re older.”

And if that wasn’t enough, Sebastian had the annoying habit of calling your classroom phone several times a day with ridiculous questions:

“Miss Y/L/N speaking,” you answered as calmly as you could, while still supervising your students coloring.

“Y/N!” Sebastian shouted from the other end of the line. “Hey, quick question... Do our students need permission from their parents to go out?”

“To go out? Do you mean… recess?” you frowned.

“Of course!”

“No, Sebastian, the kids don’t need permission to go out during break. It's mandatory,” you added with a hint of sarcasm.

“Great, thanks! By the way, did you know the hold music is super cute? I thought you'd want to know since it's as cute as you and…”

You hung up before he could continue.

The next day, the same thing: Sebastian called just to ask whether necessary needed one "c" or two. The day after, it was to ask whether the coffee in the teacher's lounge was free.

It was never anything serious. There was never an emergency or anything like that. It was simply Sebastian Vettel asking you the most stupid things, things he already knew perfectly well. Despite that, you forced yourself to answer the phone, trying to calm your anxiety while giving him a quick, convincing response to get him off the line, before hanging up.

You knew you could ignore him, but deep down, this strange routine had become your favorite part of the day.

And, unbeknownst to you, for Sebastian, it had too.

Seb knew exactly how you felt about him; about any interaction with your colleagues, in fact. He was fully aware that you were a little scared of speaking in public. He could tell by moments like when you nervously played with a pink pen with butterflies every time you had to speak during staff meetings, or when during the Christmas play, just before going on stage with him and your students, you excused yourself by saying you were about to vomit... something that wasn’t entirely an excuse.

To him, you were the brightest person he had ever met. The way you taught, how you cared for your students, how he noticed you watching him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention... Seb knew that being this persistent could have the opposite effect on you, but as much as he wanted to take a step forward and maybe become a friend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything you didn’t want.

So, Sebastian decided to stop calling you.

You were puzzled when the phone didn’t ring. At first, you considered it a good thing, but as the hours went by, you realized something was missing.

The day felt endless, something that rarely happened to you. The same went for your mood, which had plummeted. And as if that weren’t enough, the art class turned into an absolute disaster, and you didn’t know how to manage it, no matter how hard you tried to calm your anxiety and think of alternatives to wrap it up as soon as possible.

Your students only needed a few minutes working on their own, making animals out of paper-mâché, while you corrected math tests, to turn the class into a total mess. There were strips of paper everywhere. The younger kids had glue all over their hands, leaving trails everywhere. One of the blue paint cans had even fallen to the floor, spreading quickly.

To make matters worse, when you tried calling Sebastian to see if he could bring you a mop, the phone decided to stop working.

You sighed and looked at the door separating your classroom from his, realizing that you had no choice but to admit to yourself that, as hard as it was to ask, you needed help.

Without saying anything to your students, you took a deep breath and shyly cracked open the door.

Sebastian was sitting at his desk, gesturing dramatically with his hands while his students stared at him as he seemed to be telling them a story.

"So, there I was, in front of a goat, after losing my parents. And do you know what happened next?" he said, walking dramatically and opening his eyes wide.

“What happened, Mr. Vettel?!” the kids shouted.

“The goat ate the sandwich my mom had made me for the trip.”

The class burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help it and laughed too, stopping when the embarrassment of having to interrupt the class just to ask for help washed over you once again. You couldn’t just walk in there like it was nothing, and—

“Oh my goodness! Look, kids, we have a surprise guest!”

You paled. The 30 second graders all turned towards you at once, their faces lighting up as if they’d seen an alien.

Then, they started chanting your name and running toward you to hug you, forcing you to step inside. Sebastian hopped down from his desk and approached you, arms crossed and wearing a smile that, if you were honest with yourself, you were dying to see.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Miss Y/L/N?”

You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way around it.

“Well… I need your help, Mr. Vettel,” you admitted in a low voice.

Sebastian blinked. Although it took him completely by surprise, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to his students.

“Alright, kiddos. I need you to be really good and stay quiet for a moment while I help our favorite teacher, okay? I’m right here, so if I hear any shouting, I’ll take away your snacks and Friday’s movie tradition.”

A collective gasp spread through the class, but Sebastian didn’t have to say anything else. Immediately, all the kids went back to their seats and pulled out books to read.

To your surprise, they didn’t make another sound.

“Come on, Miss Y/L/N, lead the way.”

You followed his lead, and then it was you who invited Seb to come in. Once he stepped inside, the German had no words. Instead, his eyes started to scan the room.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, I know…” you sighed.

Sebastian slowly turned to face you, trying not to laugh. Of all the chaos, what surprised him most was that one of the kids, named Martin, had his shirt stuck to the chair, covered in glue, and three desks were completely covered in the same blue paint that was on the floor. To top it off, the stain you had seen moments ago had spread not only on the floor but also on the clothes and faces of many of your students.

That’s when you realized the worst.

A group of girls was standing, whispering to each other, around the hamster cage in the class... which was empty.

“Y/N…” Seb lowered his voice. “Tell me the hamster’s in the cage, but I don’t see it…”

“It’s somewhere in the classroom. The problem is, I don’t know where, and there’s only half an hour left before the day ends…” You admitted, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Are you telling me there’s a dwarf hamster loose around here?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” you snapped, frustrated, glaring at him. “Look, Sebastian… We don’t have much time before we have to leave, and if I don’t get the kids out at the exact time, just like they were brought in, you know the parents are going to go crazy…”

“Relax, Y/N. I got it.”

You didn’t have much idea what could be going through Sebastian’s head, let alone how he’d manage to fix this, but you tried to relax and give him a chance for everything to return to normal little by little.

To your surprise, that’s exactly what happened.

Not only did he divide the children into small groups to do simple tasks, like going to the bathroom to clean up, looking for the class hamster (which they found almost immediately, curled up beside a cabinet), or collecting the materials they’d used and putting them away, but he also took both classes to the school exit so you wouldn’t have to face desperate parents asking why their kids looked like they’d just been on a jungle expedition.

The bell marking the end of school had rung half an hour ago, and you were fully aware that most teachers had probably packed up and gone home by now. Sebastian hadn’t even appeared to tell you that his students had returned safely to their parents, and, for a reason you knew all too well, that disappointed you.

You sighed, trying to let go of those thoughts and illusions that shouldn’t matter so much. Instead, you focused on the pile of papers on your desk, the art supplies that still hadn’t been put away, and the paint that, no matter how hard you tried to clean it off the floor, seemed impossible to remove. You decided to calm down and start with something simple, like putting away the materials and picking up tiny pieces of paper from the floor.

“Do you know school’s over for today, right?”

You turned to the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, arms crossed and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He threw his backpack on the floor and walked over to sit next to you, helping you pick up the papers without any explanation.

“No… I didn’t hear you come in…” you confessed in surprise. And I wasn’t expecting you, you thought.

“That’s because I’m as sneaky as a ninja. The kids tell me that all the time,” he smiled, glancing at you sideways.

Seb continued his task, silent, scanning the classroom. It was no longer the disaster it had been just an hour ago. Now, the desks were perfectly grouped in fives, the class materials seemed to finally be in place, and, to your surprise, the stains had disappeared from everywhere.

“Y/N, you should go home,” Sebastian told you, standing up and helping you to do the same.

“I just need to finish cleaning up a little more…”

“Or you could not do that,” he interrupted.

You let out a small laugh for the first time that day, carefree. You were nervous and exhausted, and Seb knew that perfectly well.

“I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We managed to not kill a hamster with twenty-something kids running around and stopped the paint from getting on the walls, and you’re telling me you want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow?”

“Well… yes,” you answered, looking down and biting your lip.

“That’s pretty adorable, honestly,” Sebastian said. Realizing what he’d just said, and that it might make you uncomfortable, he corrected himself. “I mean, as in your passion for teaching and everything…”

Stop fooling yourself and be honest with her, Sebastian.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s that, but…” you tried to articulate, your cheeks completely red.

“Well, the thing is: what else can I help you with?” Sebastian asked, unable to stop smiling. The fact that you were embarrassed by something so simple seemed so cute to him that he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, what can I help you with, Y/N?” he repeated slowly.

“Well… the truth is, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Sebastian interrupted. “But I want to help you.”

You stared at him, unable to respond. You were used to helping people, not being helped yourself, and that left you speechless.

“What’s left to do?” Vettel insisted with care, moving a little closer to you while still keeping his distance.

“If you want, you can put the exams on the desk into the folders beside them,” you finally said, giving up.

“On it, Miss Y/L/N.”

“But really, Sebastian, you don’t have to—”

“If you tell me again you don’t need help, I’ll have to punish you with no recess.”

You burst out laughing, and to Sebastian, it sounded like pure medicine. For the first time that day, you didn’t feel like a total failure.

You worked in complete silence, letting time pass as you finished organizing everything. When you were finally done, you slumped into the chair and started checking your emails, wondering if any parent had decided to make your day even worse by sending a complaint after the day you’d had. To your surprise, there was nothing. What did surprise you, though, was that Seb came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of sweets that, even more surprisingly, were your favorites.

“Here you go,” he said, offering you one of the cups while placing the bag on the table. “You were so focused that I didn’t want to bother you by saying I was leaving. And, well… I also wanted to brighten your day a little.”

You thanked him with a smile and didn’t hesitate to try the chocolate, which tasted like a real victory after such a bittersweet day.

Then, you closed your computer, put it in your bag, and, to your surprise and his, turned your chair to face him.

“What’s going on?” you said, noticing that Seb was looking at you… strangely.

“Nothing. It’s just… you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, not knowing what else to say. Instead, he shook his head and set his mind on doing what he had promised himself when he started working there: to try to become friends with you.

“Tell me about Miss Y/L/N’s teaching philosophy,” he finally said.

“Excuse me?” you hesitated.

“Come on, let’s go. I know you have one. You take this job too seriously not to have some kind of ritual or something to make everything go perfectly…”

“Except for today,” you replied.

Seb didn’t say anything because he knew how much you’d keep beating yourself up. Instead, he took a chocolate from the bag he had brought, unwrapped it, and placed it beside you. You finally accepted it without complaint, but with a smile in return.

“Well… I guess I want them to feel safe,” you started to say. “I want them to know that no matter what happens, it’s okay to make mistakes or not be perfect sometimes… I want them to know that I’m here for whatever they need, and that they can be great people in the future.”

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Seb nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off you.

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “You care a lot, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine…” you swallowed, feeling a little vulnerable.

“I can see that perfectly, yes.”

“Really?”

“Seb nodded, playing with his mug.”

“You’re always the first one to arrive, and I’d swear the last one to leave. You do the most original activities and, at the same time, try not to die in the process, even though today was the exact opposite,” you both laughed. “You want to be perfect for them and try to give your best.”

“Is that bad?” you asked cautiously, tensing up a little.

“Not at all,” Seb answered immediately. “But sometimes I think you should stop being so hard on yourself and just go with the flow. You know... let things just happen by themselves.”

You were about to answer, but he continued:

“You’re a great teacher, Y/N. You don’t need to prove it to anyone but yourself, okay?”

Something in your chest tightened. You weren’t used to hearing things like that, especially not from your colleagues.

Or maybe you never gave yourself the chance for someone to recognize your well-done work, thinking it had never been, and would never be, enough.

You kept talking to Sebastian about a bit of everything, feeling right at home. The hours passed, and between questions about how you both ended up being teachers, what motivated you to dedicate your life to it, and how you both ended up in Heppenheim, it was already 7 PM.

You glanced at the clock and immediately stood up, quickly starting to gather your things, which made Seb alarmed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.

“I should go…” you said, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “I need to catch the bus before it gets too late. It’s the last one of the day and…”

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “You take the bus home?”

“Uh... yeah?”

“This late?”

“I’ve been doing it since I moved here, so it’s nothing new.”

“And no one’s offered to take you home? Not even to share fuel expenses and stuff?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “From now on, I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened, surprised.

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to…”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he cut you off, taking your backpack, offering his hand, and leading you out of the classroom, making sure to turn off the lights before you left.

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Do you think you’re a bother just because I want to take you home and make sure you arrive safe?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and still looking at you. “I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go alone on the bus, especially this late with all the drunk creeps around.”

You froze. Friend.

“Come on, let’s go,” Seb spoke again. This time, noticing you were shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from your nervousness, so he decided to put his jacket over your shoulders. “The day you let me help you a little more, we’ll be the best team the world’s ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything else until you reached Sebastian's car. Not even when you sat inside after Seb opened the door for you and turned the heat on full blast.

“Well…” Seb broke the silence as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to, Y/L/N?”

“You want me to guide you all the way?”

“Do you expect me to guess the way?” Vettel joked. “Y/N, I’ve got balls, but none of them are crystal, so…”

Embarrassed, and especially starting to overthink whether Seb would start judging you not only for your answer but for the entire day you spent together, you simply gave him the directions.

Seb, knowing you might be feeling down and, unlike the whole afternoon when you talked about everything, seeing you retreat into yourself again, started asking you a bit of everything. Why did you decide to move to Heppenheim, such a small town? What was your favorite place? Did you like your neighborhood?

You weren’t used to that flood of questions, and especially not to people showing interest in you. Since you were very young, you always felt left out, like you didn’t belong to any group...

But with Seb, it was different. It was like he actually cared about you, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly good about it.

“I like the new neighborhood. Quite cozy and nice...”

Seb parked the car in a small free spot in front of the apartment block where you lived. Then, he turned toward you with a smile, placing his arm behind your seat.

“It’s very quiet, which is great when I need to grade or when I just want to read and relax.”

“Oh, are you one of those?” Seb teased.

“One of what?”

“One of those teachers who reads all the time.”

“Seb, we’re teachers,” you were surprised to call him by his nickname so naturally, but you didn’t regret it. “Of course, I read all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but what I mean is, do you read for fun?” he corrected himself. “Do you read those dirty books or the inspirational ones that tell you how to be the perfect teacher?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you hit him on the arm.

“I read for fun.”

“That confirms it, you do read those dirty books where they’re constantly... you know… having sex in the dirtiest ways…”

“They’re called romance novels, Seb,” you corrected him, ignoring his comment. “The last thing I read was a romantic novel, okay? With no sex in it, by the way.”

“I knew you were a hopeless romantic…”

“I don’t know why I even told you anything…” you whispered, hiding your face in your hands.

Seb wanted to reply with something more, to joke around with you, but he knew that for today, it had been enough. What mattered was that you had felt comfortable and, most of all, opened up a little more with him that day.

Silence fell between you both again, but neither of you dared to say anything else. Not even you, who had yawned a couple of times and were dying to get home and get into bed without even having dinner, made the effort to get out of the car.

You didn’t know why you were so hesitant to leave. It was easy: thank Seb, say goodnight, get out of the car, and walk into the building without waiting to see if he drove off. Instead, you decided to stay there, by his side, your hands resting on your legs, feeling safer and, above all, happier than you had in a long time.

Seb didn’t say anything either. Instead, he focused on the streetlights, growing brighter with each passing moment, while his fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel.

Finally, you were the one who decided to take the step, to both your surprise:

“Well... I felt really comfortable today,” you admitted, with a calm voice.

Seb turned toward you suddenly, surprised.

You swallowed nervously, trying not to let the anxiety consume you and, above all, trying to stop the embarrassment from taking over. 

"Well, I was thinking that... we could do this once in a while..."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk.

"What, reorganize a class and try not to die in the process? And not killing a hamster?"

"No, I meant...," you hesitated, then looked at him shyly. "I meant… spending time together. Outside of school."

That caught Sebastian off guard, but he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. He hadn’t expected you to say that, especially not after the chaotic day you'd both had.

"Wait..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "Are you telling me that... you want to spend time together, and not during class hours?"

You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment. Nervous and a little regretful, you weren’t going to back down though. You held your backpack tight, like some kind of protection, while fidgeting nervously in your seat.

"Well... I felt really comfortable today with you, and I thought maybe we could do it again. You know… grab a coffee, go for a walk..."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He just stared at you, unable to recognize the person in front of him, yet delighted that maybe, with a little bit of help from him, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, even if you didn’t seem entirely comfortable.

"Forget what I just said..." you mumbled.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, unable to look at him in the face. Sebastian, however, couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

"Not a chance. I like your idea. Actually, I’m more than happy with it."

His voice was calmer now, which gave you the courage to look at him. His blue eyes, which normally made you nervous and stole your words, now made you feel the same, but for an entirely different reason. You felt pressure in your chest, but this time it was nothing like the anxiety or fear of being judged and rejected.

"Hey," Sebastian spoke again, gently taking your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Since, from what I’ve just heard, you don't mind spending time with me..."

"Seb, please, don’t ruin this moment..."

You narrowed your eyes, instinctively leaning toward his lips, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to close the distance, pressing his lips to yours. At first, it was soft, like you both were making sure that was really happening not just in your minds. When Sebastian felt you sigh against his lips, something in him clicked. His hand, still resting on your chin, slid to your cheek, caressing it tenderly, while his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You let yourself go, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in a long time, not because you wanted to disappear, but because you felt more alive than ever.

When you finally pulled apart, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

"Tell me this isn’t a mistake, Seb..." you whispered, still confused about what just happened.

"If it is, I hope you, Miss Perfection, don’t mind."

You laughed nervously, filled with emotions and confusion, but mostly happiness.

"So... what now?" you asked, breathless.

"I love the idea of kissing you in my car like a couple of teenagers, but I think it’s getting too late and we have to get up early tomorrow. So, I have an idea."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow's Thursday, Y/N. We have to go to class," Sebastian explained, as if you didn’t already know what he meant. "If I pick you up, you won’t have to wake up extra early to catch the bus."

Your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was a simple offer, nothing extraordinary, but to you, it felt like more... like Sebastian wanted something more with you.

Like you mattered to Sebastian Vettel.

Seb saw the hesitation, the doubt in your eyes. He leaned in gently, and after placing a short but tender kiss on your lips, he spoke again.

"I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to," he assured you.

You swallowed hard.

Sebastian was serious. It wasn’t some bad joke like many other guys had made in the past. He really meant it.

"Okay," was all you could say.

Sebastian’s smile lit up his face.

"Great, princess. I’ll see you at seven-thirty here tomorrow. And I know it’s not necessary, but I have to remind you: please, don’t you dare being late."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you opened the car door and stepped out, a smile forming on your lips like never before.

Then, you hesitated at the door, but you were ready to, for once in your life, stop trying to be so perfect.

"Goodnight, Seb," you said softly. "And... Thank you. For everything."

"Sleep well, best teacher in the whole world."

You walked toward your building, and when you were inside, you turned around to see if Sebastian had left. To your surprise, he was still there, making sure you had entered safely.

You both waved to each other, and as you climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, you realized that, for the first time, the anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t paralyzing you. 

Instead, it was tomorrow, alongside Sebastian Vettel, what were making you feel alive.

[kaisentine]

yippity yappity abt actress!reader and sae

“you sucked at that.” you wince at how bad this pro-soccer player plays his part. to be fair—it was quite obvious he hated this, hated filming, hated his team, hated you . . . what kind of connections did this man have to be in a movie such as this one? “yeah? well no fucking shit, i’m not an actor.” he snarls.

how has this man not been cancelled yet? he’s probably the most insufferable male you’ve met—worked with! “. . . i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. but for the love of whatever, don’t let go so early.” you murmur, referring to the last take when he let you fall on your back because he let go.

he rolls his eyes before the director tells the both of you to get ready.

“we can’t do this anymore,” crystalline tears start building up in your lash-line just begging to flood down your cheeks. he squeezes your hands in his and holds them up to his chest, the look of sympathy just barely passing sadness is evident on his face as he stares at you. “why not?” it’s asked as a whisper one could mistake for their own hallucinations playing with their head. “ . . . no—i can’t do this anymore.” the built up water starts flowing down your cheeks, a quick warmth turns to a cool sensation against your skin.

his sympathetic look contorts into disappointment at your rewording. “i can do this. fuck . . . just trust me.” you want to believe him, you want to be convinced by his sick reassurance but you’ve been fooled once before, you can’t do this a second time. “i don’t know if i can trust you again. let me go, please.” you plead while trying to thrash his clasp on your hands away. “yes you can.” he further insists with not budging one bit, your mouth feels dry from the words you cannot speak but wet with the guilt that drowns through your body.

“how?” you’ve given up on trying to push him away because now you need the answer. the form of the answer you were looking for was not that of verbal speech but of an action. pushing his arms back so both his and your hands are now pinned to your chest, a slow lean towards you was all it took for him to lay his lips on yours.

“CUT” the director yells through his over the top mega-phone and sae immediately lets go of your hands and rebounds back to his previous stance—you want to flush your mouth out with whatever you can get your hands on just anything. “good work!” he smiles, marking the end of the filming process. you smile along with him but the red-head ( bru what’s his hair color ) remains indifferent.

“it wasn’t that hard, was it?” you ask with arms crossed while everyone else is busy with something. “i just want to get out of here.” he copies your movements but puts his hand on his hip instead. you swallow the urge to crash out on him to the point there’s probably a lump in your throat. “i wasn’t the one who brought you here, calm down—the least you could do after probably making my ass bruise.” you feel your eye twitch just by looking at him,

“wrong, you were.”

what is he talking about . . . is he now telling you that you’re the reason for his misery? “huh? what do you mean?” you tilt your head in confusion. “my team wanted me here because you were going to be here too.” he blatantly explains like you knew this already—you didn’t. your head moves back in surprise.

“why would they do that?” you give him a look that just screams ‘wtf are you on about?’. “famous actor and famous soccer player, great publicity.” he sighs before shaking his head in annoyance.

oh, you get it now. but his team better be right because if this movie doesn’t blow up, you’re going to pay someone to remove your mouth.

their predictions were right, the movie was long awaited and did blow up—more than you thought. theorists, news sites and fans were having a field day, however. making up crazy articles, fan edits, and speculations that you and itoshi sae were dating.

have they never seen a kiss in a movie? have they never heard of the concept of acting? God, you still want to remove your mouth—anything to stop you subconsciously bringing your fingers up to your lips while thinking of the dumb kiss he gave you. it’s an actual nightmare to be thinking of a man who didn’t really want to kiss you.

his team was right but was it worth it? was it worth it to have you shifting uncomfortably in your seat while waiting for the interviewer with sae beside you? was it worth the awkward bickering off camera? “i slept through the premiere.” he says lazily as if you weren’t beside him during the showing. “how are we going to do this interview, then?” you sigh, bringing a hand to your face to pinch your nose bridge.

“adlib,” he says, “i think i’ll be okay..” he finishes. “you better because i’m not carrying this interview.” you retort—knowing damn well you might be forced to because you’ve watched his interviews after games and they . . . suck.

there’s a sound from in front of you, it’s the interviewer getting set up in her chair. she clears her throat, “we’ll be starting soon.” she smiles, smoothening the wrinkles on her white pants. it’s game time when there’s professional cameras almost being shoved in your face.

the conversations and questions were quite tame . . .

“i’ve never seen you act before, itoshi. how were you so good the first time?” you feel your eye twitch.

“i don’t know, i just did what they told me to do.” he’s being way too honest. then again, he was never one to put on a filter, even in front of the cameras. you swear you see her eye twitch as well before she goes back to her light smile while turning to you.

“your performance was as great as ever! do you have anything to say about the filming?”

“ah, i’m very flattered! thank you! filming a movie with such intense emotions was quite the test for my heart.” you replicate the smile on her face. if only reputation didn’t exist—you would’ve said you had the urge to punch your co-worker in the face.

until they weren’t.

“now for the big question that’s been on everyone’s minds the moment the movie released.”

don’t you fucking say it.

“are you,” she points at you, “and him” she points at the man beside you, “dating?”

she said it. you jump in your seat at the mention of you and him dating?! “we aren’t!” you’re quick to shake your head with a laugh as a cover-up, she lets out a prolonged hum—suggesting something—in return. “do you believe that?” sae asks and you dart your eyes to him, what is he doing? is he trying to stir up more controversies? he’s got to be crazy. you silently tell him to shut up but he isn’t taking the hint to zip his lips.

the interviewer smirks. “i mean, most of us do . . . the kiss at the end was way too real.” that woman really needs that paycheck, huh? okay . . . you get it, she’ll get praised by her manager or whatever for grabbing views for this but what would sae get in return for doing this?

“that means we’re just really good actors, right?” you laugh nervously, still side-eyeing sae ‘please do something,’. “i don’t think a beginner actor would be that convincing.” he shrugs—he’s referring to himself. when you meant for him to do something, you didn’t mean for him to mix things up even more! the interviewer’s smirk falls through her jaw as it drops, this is probably the juiciest thing she’ll get out of her career. “are you saying that the kiss just might be a—”

“NO—”

“sure.”

you both say at the same time—sae’s manager is basically lunging at the cameramen to stop the recording.

maybe you’ve been blind up until this moment but now it all makes sense. the lingering thoughts of his lips on yours were totally planned by him—but what he did to make it work was still a mystery.

but the prize he’d get in return was not a paycheck but it would be you.

man, you knew he sucked that bad at acting but he sucks even more at bagging someone.

sticky note. this idea showed up in my drafts on the 31st of january but i kept changing it stop

[dellamortethelesser]

The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 2

pt1 | pt2 | pt 3

Picking back up in the next scene, Lucanis and Illario are exiting the tavern on their way to the contract. Here, they are described as "lean with dark hair and umber eyes". ← THIS MEANS THEY PURPOSELY GAVE MY POOKIE BLUE EYES TO MAKE HIM LOOK MORE EVIL.

(I also forgot to mention in the previous scene they discuss that Illario fastidiously grooms his 5 o'clock shadow so they also took THAT from us. But! Veilguard did give him a huge ass… no, I need his brown eyes back).

"Illario was all smiles. His was a calculated handsomeness. From his smooth skin to his perfect, white teeth, everything was contrived to be enticing". ← insane thing to say i think what did caterina do to influence that so strongly. like yes, lucanis is a mage-killer and that's certainly a Niche, but let's not pretend that Illario isn't filling a different sort of niche. both of them have been trained to be more valuable Alive than Dead.

"As they walked through the crowd, he basked in the appreciative glances he received," ← unsure whether this is omniscient on part of the author or intended to be directly lucanis's pov. this specific passage i've never been able to figure it out. if it's lucanis's pov though, i would wonder if that 'basking' isn't just… a front.

I have to assume this passage is somewhat omniscient because it goes on to say that "… while Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn't look away from—until he looked at you." ← i have to assume this is all referring to Lucanis? if so? because if it is lucanis's pov why would he… idk. 'the kind of man you couldn't look away from' could still refer to illario? idk. it's a really hard passage for me to parse i feel stupid. debate in the reblogs

This whole next part of the story makes me insane because it's just further emphasizing my point that Lucanis gives absolutely no thought to Illario as an equal working with him on this contract—THAT HE ASKED ILLARIO TO BE HERE FOR. i'll try to break this down but i recommend just reading along in your own copy alsfjk

"So what's the plan? Now that Ambrose knows we're coming" / "We were never going through the front door." ← Illario is asking here, now that there's proof the Venatori know the Crows are after them, what the new plan is. he is only JUST NOW finding out that Lucanis never HAD a plan that didn't account for this? again i'm not sure how lucanis "knew" unless it's supposed to make him out to be the better assassin, but it reads as though he was purposefully keeping Illario in the dark.

hang on let me just directly quote this next part

"I bought THIS—" Illario gestured towards his tunic. "Because YOU said we were dispatching Tevinter's 'premiere' wigmaker at an exclusive party. Emphasis on exclusive." "Uh-huh." "It was a rush order. We were with the tailor for hours." "I recall." "Why let me go through the motions of purchasing formal wear for an event we're not actually attending?" "I know how much you enjoy dressing up," Lucanis goaded and ducked under a pointed archway.

But. You are attending this event. Crucially you are in fact both attending this event and do need Illario to dress the part to get YOU where YOU need to be. Why are you goading him on like this?!

You're both on the way to this contract—and Lucanis is leading him through a back entrance, btw, AND THE FACT THAT ILLARIO DOESN'T ALREADY KNOW THAT TELLS ME THAT LUCANIS DIDN'T TELL HIM THAT PART OF THE PLAN EITHER—so why are you doing this?!

Lucanis why are you fucking with him like this on purpose? THERE'S NO REAL REASON GIVEN IN HIS NARRATIVE SO I HAVE TO EXTRAPOLATE THAT THIS IS JUST NORMAL FOR THEM. WHICH ISN'T NORMAL

quick interlude to add that Lucanis's 'bleeding heart' sympathies are here from the jump; he is aware of the cultural importance of the vhenedahl, and remarks that the magisters trying to make a statue to keep their slaves in line had the opposite effect.

Again Lucanis reveals some way into the passageways they're using—that Illario didn't know about on both accounts—and is SMUG ABOUT IT. HE TOSSES ILLARIO A SMUG LOOK OVER HIS SHOULDERS.

"I wouldn't complain if you filled me in," he grumbled. "Yes, you would." "As much," Illario conceded. "I wouldn't complain as much."

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THIS LUCANIS. The dynamic between them is just consistently reinforcing the idea that wherever Lucanis goes, Illario is expected to follow, unwaveringly, unquestioningly, and to be quite honest i would be driven fucking insane.

We're only so many pages in and there is a very clear way that Lucanis treats Illario just in the context of working CONTRACTS together, and that way is… not very good! YOU INVITED HIM HERE. WHY ARE YOU KEEPING HIM IN THE DARK?

I say this like I don't understand but a lot of people have rightly pointed out that this is their 'normal'. This is learned behavior, a learned dynamic, and I do believe Caterina is partly responsible for fostering it by showing such clear favoritism to Lucanis and likely giving him behavior to model.

Which goes back to my previous question of… why? If you're not going to name an heir and want this to be a winner takes it all relationship, why show such clear favoritism?! THESE ARE YOUR LAST TWO LIVING RELATIVES, CATERINA.

Back to the book. Lucanis's elf contact greets him with "Master Dellamorte". Cool! When she looks for an introduction, though, it is Illario that butts in with "Master Dellamorte the Lesser". ← hi my love. why did you do this? well because it reinforces the same shit we've been seeing the whole time. and calls back to how he already referred to lucanis as 'the great' in their first scene together.

"My cousin," Lucanis clarified. ← no defense or correction? fine maybe not the time or place. one of the more neutral statements that Lucanis has said to him but he's damned by faint praise and the fact there is no INNER NARRATIVE QUESTIONING ILLARIO'S ANSWER MEANS THIS IS ALSO ASSUMED TO BE NORMAL.

Heading up the passage. It's magic. the room spins

"Lucanis bit back a laugh as Illario held out an arm to steady himself." ← WHY. why is this funny to you. okay now im sounding like i'm seething at lucanis which i kind of am BUT TRUST I STILL LOVE HIM

THIS DYNAMIC IS JUST INSANE TO ME. okay anyways next bit. i'm covering one more scene and then will do another post for part 3. together we can work through this story a few pages every day. I'm gonna break up this last bit in some chunks

"You've made friends." / "You would too, if you ever left Treviso." / "I'm here now, aren't I?" ← Illario was trying to be nice. Lucanis immediately takes a shot at the fact that Illario stays in Treviso (are we implying here that Illario doesn't take jobs? Doesn't work?) and Illario reminds him that HE CAME TO VYRANTIUM FOR LUCANIS. He's here for you!

"Seriously, though, what is this place?" "A perk. Given by our mysterious benefactor." Lucanis quickened his pace, hoping to leave the answer at that. Illario did not take the hint. "Speaking of, I have some questions about him… her… them?"

1) diversity win

2) AGAIN. Illario is being kept in the dark about things and Lucanis is intentionally not sharing them. WHY? We are never given a reason WHY from Lucanis. Just that he doesn't want to share anything with Illario—ostensibly about their client but ABOUT THE WHOLE CONTRACT IS WHAT THE NARRATIVE SHOWS.

"Oh, come on," Illario urged, matching Lucanis's pace. "When have we ever taken on an anonymous client?" "Since someone could put tangible stock in the phrase 'Silence is golden'." "You're not the least bit curious?" Lucanis exhaled through his nose. "If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I'm not going to complain."

again we see Lucanis's sympathies coming to light. these are not bad feelings to have obviously we should hate racists. but they are assassins paid to kill and not get emotionally entangled in the job which Lucanis consistently does in this short story.

additionally. again. the way he talks to illario. i just. can it be stated enough at any point.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

[starlvcied]

₊˚⊹♡ rin itoshi x f!reader " FRAMED RIVALRY " CHAPTER 002

in which your academic rival, aka the captain of the soccer team, sneaks his way into the photography club with you. ꨄ︎ CHAPTER 002

cw: swearing (a lot) , rin definitely needs therapy wc : 1.8k

if someone had told you a week ago that rin itoshi would willingly join the photography club, you wouldve laughed in their face. yet here he is, showing up to every meeting like he belongs, sitting in on discussions, and most annoying– actually being good at it. 

it doesnt make sense. rin is the the type to dismiss anything that doesn't revolve around soccer, the kind of person that scoffs at having to do anything that doesnt serve his ambitions. but every time you try to pry into his real motives, he gives you the same flat responses.

“i told you, i just like photography.” or–

“can you piss off?” or–

“mind your fucking business, lukewarm.”

but noone else seems to question it. the club members welcome him in without hesitation (except for livvy and daria, who you specifically warned to stay the hell away from him), is probably more impressed by the fact that the soccer captain is even acknowledging their existence. it gets on your nerves, especially when people start treating him like he’s some kind of prodigy. well, he sorta is– but thats besides the point.

“he’s a fast learner,” daria comments as you all review recent shots on the clubs computer. “look at this framing– i cant believe he did that.”

you barely glance at the image before skipping them with a scoff. “anyone can take a decent picture with the right settings. he’s just copying the techniques i already explained to him.”

rin, whos leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. he doesnt even react to your dismissiveness. “jealous?” he asks, his voice as indifferent as ever. 

you slowly turn around, facing him with a scowl. “of you? not a chance.”

“well thats not a pretty face.”

it becomes a pattern. rin attends every meeting that doesnt get in the way of his practice or his games, participating just enough to remain involved, and occasionally throws in dry, insulting comments at you and your clubmates, mostly you, made to push your buttons. and unfortunately, it works. you’d expect him to lose interest within days, to get bored and drop the act. but he doesnt.

and thats what bothers you the most.

you dont usually mind morning classes. if anything, you enjoy them– mostly due to most of the students being too tired to be rowdy, so mornings at your school are pretty peaceful. but that was before rin itoshi started making them unbearable.

ever since the debate project forced you to work together, things have only escalated between you two. its like a silent war– every test, every assignment, every question posed by the teacher turns into an unspoken battle for dominance.

and neither of you are willing to lose.

so when your first period teacher walks in, announcing an impromptu quiz, you already know exactly where this is headed. you get a glance at rin through your peripheral and find that he was already looking at you. obsessed freak. 

“i’ll be grading these on the spot,” the teacher says, handing out the papers. “no multiple choice– explanations are required. show your reasoning.”

you glance to your left once more, where rin is already twirling that stupid ballpoint pen between his fingers, the epitome of nonchalance. but you know better. you can feel the competitive energy radiating off of him.

the moment the papers hit your desk, it begins. you dont even bother writing your name, nor the date, nor the period.

the only sound in the room is the scratching of pens against paper. you work quickly but precisely, mapping out each answer with clear, logical steps. you’re writing harder than usual, your lead breaking a few times, and your palm begins to burn. you refuse to give rin the satisfaction of finishing before you.

a flicker of movement catches your eye. rin shifts slightly in his seat, leaning forward as he writes, his stroke sharp and decisive. he’s fast. too fast. it reminds you of how he acts on the field.

you grit your teeth. hes rushing. that has to be it. theres no way hes double checking his work at that pace. (unless he doesnt have to. maybe he is as perfect as he presents himself to be.)

your pencil moves faster.

you finish just as rin sets his pen down.

both of you look up at the same time, locking eyes.

theres a moment of intense silence. then, without a word, you both flip your papers over and slide them toward the edge of your desks, waiting for the teacher to collect them.

the rest of the class finishes at a normal, more human pace– less like a factory machine. but you and rin remain frozen in place, the unspoken competition still lingering between you.

the teacher grades quickly, making occasional sounds of both approval and disapproval. you watch as she pauses at rin’s paper (you knew it was his because you had already memorized his stupid handwriting, and got a glance at the moment she picked it up). her eyebrows lifted slightly before marking something. then she gets to yours, tapping her pen against the desk thoughtfully before moving on.

finally, she returns her focus back to the class. “excellent work from most of you,” she says, “but per usual, our top scorers were neck and neck.” 

you sit up straighter. rin remains still.

the teacher glances between the two of you, lips quirking slightly, as if she finds this amusing. “one of you scored 100%. the other, a 99.”

your breath catches.

you whip your head toward rin at the same time he looks at you. his expression is unreadable, but you could see it in his eyes– hes waiting.

the teacher places the papers down on her desk. “the perfect score goes to…” she paused. you felt as if she was creating suspense on purpose. she finally flips one over, revealing the name scrawled at the top.

and to your surprise, its not yours.

for a second, you just stare at it. the weight of that single point settles uncomfortably in your chest, and embarrassment bubbles in your stomach.

slowly, you turn to look at him. he’s not smirking, not outright gloating, but theres a flicker of triumph in his expression. the way his lips press together, the way his fingers drum lightly on the desk as if to say, i win.

you inhale sharply. one point. you lost by one point.

it shouldnt bother you this much. its just a quiz. its not like this is the first time one of you has beaten the other.

but it does bother you– no, it enrages you.

so when the teacher move’s on, discussing the correct answers, you lean slightly toward rin and mutter, “enjoy your fuckin’ moment. this wont happen again.”

he doesnt look at you, but the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “thats not very head of the student council of you.”

that stupid fucking smirk made you want to strangle him and leave him to the rats. you pursed your lips before responding, your tone the opposite of polite. “shut up, dickwad.”

he didnt seem to take it to heart. all he gave was a simple eye roll and a breathy laugh, if you could even call it that. “sounds like someones mad they lost.”

and just like that, the war continues.

rin itoshi is an annoyingly fast learner. 

that much becomes obvious after only a few days in the photography class.

youd hoped he would get bored, that the frustration of being a beginner would drive him a way. but rin treats photography the same way he treats soccer or school– like a challenge. and rin doesnt lose.

which means hes actually trying.

and, worse– he’s getting better.

you watch as he crouches low, camera in hand, adjusting his focus with practiced precision. as of right now, the photography club was taking pictures while the student government set up the school to become more valentine's day themed. currently, you had rin practice by taking a photo of a boy hanging up heart-shaped decor on the walls. he clicks the shutter, barely pausing before reviewing the shot.

you dont want to admit it, but the composition is good. the depth of field is balanced, and the framing naturally draws the eye to the subject.

he stands, his frame towering over you as he turned the camera toward you. “better?”

you tilt your head, pretending to scrutinize. “..its fine.”

rin frowns slightly. “thats what you said last time.”

“maybe you’re just ‘fine’ at this.”

his lips press into a thin line. “lukewarm critique.”

you roll your eyes. “you want real critique?” you snatch the camera from his hands and point at the screen. “your subject placement is predictable, your angles are too rigid, and you rely too much on symmetry. it looks… controlled.”

rin raised an eyebrow. “and thats a bad thing?”

“its a safe thing.” you lift your own camera. “photography isnt just about control. Its about instinct, feeling natural. feeling the shot instead of just calculating it.

rin doesnt look convinced. “feeling doesnt win anything.” 

“tell that to every award winning photographer literally ever.” you step past him, snapping a picture without even looking through the viewfinder. then you turn the screen toward him. “see?”

rin stares at it for a moment, then exhales through his nose. “so youre saying i should just take random pictures instead? thats stupid.”

you roll your eyes again. “i’m saying you should stop treating this like a competition.”

he gives you a look that is so blatantly unimpressed that it makes your blood boil. “you think im competing with you?”

you stare at him. is he fucking serious?

rin doesnt react. no denial, no confirmation. he just watches you with that same impassive expression, teal eyes unreadable. then he tilts his head slightly.

“or maybe i just like photography.”

the way he says it– so deliberately, so casually– makes you want to shove your camera down his throat and watch him choke to death.

instead, you step closer, voice low. “say that again with a straight face.”

rin blinks. then, like the shitty little menace he is, he repeats with a deadpanned expression. “maybe i just like photography.”

you swear he’s fucking with you.

the moment is cut short– the bell. the club members begin packing up, and rin, as usual, moves on as if nothing happened. you watch as he slings his camera strap over his shoulder, leaving without another word.

and you– you are left standing there frustrated beyond belief. 

because of the rivalry.

because he’s improving too fast.

and because you're starting to believe he’s damn near perfect, and you hate it.

what does this mean for you?

001<< >>003

i got lazy w this so its kinda bad sorry!! also i dont know jack shit abt photography lol just roll with it.

tags: @mixolya @x3nafix @rinniebinniebay @levihanmyotp @anqelkoz @megumismyhusband @aisqka

[defututus]

Even When I'm Not With You | Chapter Two

Six Months Later

masterlist

modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!reader, college AU, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: the new semester is starting and you meet a lot of new faces, plus a very familiar one

content warnings: none, at least not that I can find!

word count: 5.8k

authors note: thank you so much for the love on my first chapter, this one is a little lighter ❤️ thanks again to @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs. At the time this is being posted I'm either mentally preparing to meet Joseph Quinn again or I've already met him and hopefully haven't thrown up on him.

divider by @saradika

The last five months had been nothing short of torture for you. You never realized how much you took in-person classes for granted. You missed the lively group discussions, walking around your campus with friends, breakfast with your roommate. Your D&D group tried playing together over Discord but you all agreed it didn’t feel the same so you just stopped playing altogether. The worst day was when you had to go pack up your dorm room and say goodbye to your roommate. Elena was the first person you made friends with in college and she was graduating this year with plans to move to Massachusetts and get her masters degree. You two hugged and cried and didn’t want to let each other go. 

You also never forgot about Eddie. Some days as you’d wait for your classes to start you’d wonder if Eddie was in class today and wondering how he was faring. Was he staying safe? How were his friends doing? 

Would you ever see him again?

Did he even remember you?

Your anthropology professor was very reluctant to use technology. She used an old school projector and would write out her tests then copy them. It was a miracle whenever she managed to use the computer for something without help from the IT department or one of her students. Needless to say, you weren’t surprised when your professor decided to just assign weekly readings or videos and then give you a multiple choice  quiz at the end of the week. No discussion boards, no presentations, and no zoom classes. This was the final nail in the coffin that made you realize you’d truly never see Eddie again. When you met him, you were hopeful  and believed you might be able to call him your boyfriend one day. That dream was crushed within three weeks. 

Summer went by in the blink of an eye and you were more than ready to get back to school. The school’s administration made the decision to reopen campus with all classes offering a hybrid option for those  who chose not to return to in-person learning. You chose to move back into the dorms as most of your friends were doing the same and you also needed to have your own space again. You went with the same room layout as last year, two small bedrooms connected by a small “common area”, basically a hallway with a sink and a small bathroom on the other side of it. You didn’t decorate the common area too much, just adding a rug in front of the door to the hallways and plugging your shared mini-fridge and microwave in near the entrance so you both could use it. There was one last minute addition that you hadn’t told your roommate about, a little dry erase board that hung on the wall between your room and hers.

You didn’t get the chance to talk to your roommate that much since room assignments only went out a week ago. All you really knew was her name was Robin and that she lived a few towns over in Hawkins. She was a creative writing major and was probably the funniest person you had ever met. You offered to help her move in the next day but she politely declined, saying she had friends who had also moved in and were going to help her with everything. There wasn’t much to do the next day - classes didn’t start for another few days and all your friends that were returning to campus hadn’t moved in yet. That morning you decided to grab a quick breakfast from the dining hall and add the finishing touches to your room. You had a Fall Out Boy poster from years ago that you happily hung above your bed as well as a Ghost poster that your friend had bought for you for Christmas last year. There were also a few postcards with ancient art that you put right at your desk. Once everything was up, you opened up your window that had a view of the campus walkways and took out a book. You had a pretty good idea of what readings would be assigned to your classes (you asked the professor before the last semester ended) and figured you’d get a head start on it since you had nothing better to do. 

The late summer breeze filled your room as you began pulling out your notebook and pens to start taking notes down. It was just warm enough to still be wearing a tank top so you chose one in your favorite color and a basic pair of shorts. The tank top showed just enough cleavage to make you feel good about yourself but not enough that you’d consider it to be too revealing. The next two hours went by relatively quickly. The texts in question were new to you, but you had a general idea of what was going on so things didn’t get too confusing.

Sometime later, your focus is broken by the muffled sound of voices coming from outside your dorm room. You notice the telltale rolling of a moving bin moving closer, chatter, then a moment of silence until you hear, “Ow!”

Out of curiosity, you got up from your seat and approached your dorm door to open it and stick your head out. Outside in the brightly colored carpeted hallway was Robin along with a man. Robin was carrying a laundry basket with what you assumed to be her bed sheets inside of it. The first thing you noticed were her earrings with worms on strings. The guy with her had perfectly styled chestnut hair, large wire-rimmed glasses, and a Hawkins Basketball shirt on. You kept silent and watched them bicker like siblings.

“Hey dingus, that's my FOOT you just ran over!” 

The man takes a step back from the bin with his hands up. “You stopped right in front of me!”

“Of course I stopped right here, this is my room!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?!”

A laugh is threatening to escape as you watch the two argue. There are other residents moving in that say nothing as they simply push past them, everyone completely used to the chaos of college move-in day. 

Robin turns around, about to motion to the summer-themed name tags taped to the door but instead she sees you watching everything unfold. Thankfully, she’s amused at how you caught her and her friend bickering and sputters out a laugh, which then spreads to her friend and over to you. 

The three of you hear another moving bin rolling through the carpeted halls and you all look over to see who it is, and you’re pretty sure you’re imagining things when you realize who it is.

It’s Eddie.

The last time you saw him - and the only time you saw him - was during the winter when he was wearing a hoodie so you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos, and you’re now learning just how many he has. One arm has a few tattoos - the most notable on his  right arm are the bats on his forearm and a wyvern , with a snake that winds its way up his arm. The left arm only has one tattoo and it's the one you saw the day you first met him, the goat skull on his hand. There are at least two tattoos on his chest, that you can tell from the stretched out muscle tank he was wearing, but again you wouldn’t be able to see exactly what they were until he got closer - or if he just took off his shirt. His hair was up in a high bun, most likely styled that way to help with the summer heat.

You’re staring at him as he continues down the hallway with the bin, and you notice just how much stuff is in it. The lighter haired man had the lighter load, it seemed, only containing two large sterilite containers full of clothing and a rug. Eddie had what looked like shelving, a TV, room decor, and one sterilite bin with shoes in it.  He’s not really looking at where he’s going, instead looking around at the bulletin boards on the wall and the name tags on every door. The entire hall had an overall summer theme to it. The RA’s put a lot of work into decorating when they were going to be changing it in a month. 

Eddie sees his friends out of the corner of his eye so he slows down before he hits the other man, and that’s when he looks up and finally sees you. He stares for a moment in disbelief before breaking out into a big, toothy smile. He’s got a smile that would light up an entire room. All you’re able to do in that moment is give him a smile and a little wave, mouthing ‘hi’ to him. Robin turns around and sees Eddie, saying, “Oh hey, you’re here!” She turns back to you and begins introducing the two guys to you. “This dingus –” she motions over to the first man you met and he nods to you with a wave“– is Steve, we worked at this ice cream place at the mall together and now he’s my best friend.” Robin then turns to Eddie, who stands up a little straighter now that all the attention is on him. He’s trying to make himself look a little more presentable, tucking some strands of hair that were sticking to his face away behind his ear as he’s introduced to you. “This is dingus number two, Eddie. He’s really obnoxious and brash, like dingus over here, so I call him bingus. Y’know, like the cat. They’re living together in the apartments across campus.”

You try to hold back a laugh at Eddie’s nickname but it doesn’t work. All you can picture is a sphynx cat with a head of curly hair. Eddie is enjoying every second of this, even if Robin is poking fun at him. He couldn’t get enough of your laugh the first time you two met and he’s just now realizing that he might get the chance to hear it more often. Once you calm yourself down, you chime in saying, “Actually, I already knew Eddie. We were in the same anthropology class last semester, albeit for like one class before break but it was fun.”

Eddie could have sworn he heard Steve’s neck crack from how fast he turned to look at him. He’s looking back at his roommate in shock. Steve mouth, ‘Is that her? The girl?’ and Eddie nods with a smile before looking back at you in adoration while you’re chatting away with Robin.

After some more small talk about moving day, complaining about how hard it was to get on campus despite the low number of residents this year, you two decide you’ve had enough of standing in the cold hallway and go inside. You hold your dorm door open so everyone can go through. Robin and Steve thank you as they go inside and you can hear Robin digging in her tote bag before finding her room key and unlocking it. Eddie comes in a few seconds later with his bin, flashing you another beautiful smile before he abandons the bin in front of Robin’s room. The small size of the bedrooms combined with the furniture only allows room for one bin at a time so he just leaves it for them to grab when the first bin is empty. You move to close the heavy door behind you and squeeze between the bin and a wall to get over to your room. Eddie watches and follows you, casually leaning against the metal door frame when you hop up onto your bed. He’s fiddling with his rings as he looks at you, specifically your legs. He has never really been into legs, Eddie has always been more of a boob guy if he’s being honest, but in that moment he realized how good yours looked and wanted nothing more than to have them around his waist, over his shoulders…

He catches himself before his thoughts become clouded with his growing number of fantasies about you, and before his pants start to get uncomfortably tight. Instead, he tries to play catch up.

“So, I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again… how did that campaign with your friends go? Did you save that Barnes guy or did he eventually become goblin lunch?”

You’re shocked that Eddie remembered your D&D campaign. The pessimistic part of you assumed he quickly forgot about you since there were more important events going on at the time but he seemed to remember you just as you remembered him. A small smile grows on your face at the thought. You grab a pillow off your bed and put it in your lap to pull at the loose strings on it as Eddie removes himself from the doorframe and takes a seat in your desk chair. He’s sitting casually, opting to sit in it backwards with his arms on top of the backrest. He’s making himself comfortable and acting like he comes in here all the time. You wouldn’t mind if he did come here all the time. You’re unsure if its the warm air coming in through the window or the way that Eddie is looking at you, but you’re starting to feel flush and a little giddy. Usually people would become disinterested when you begin talking about your interests but he seems to want to learn more, so you begin to retell the story.

“We saved him from the goblins but then we were ambushed by a band of mercenaries on the way out of the forest. They were hiding in the trees and Barnes was low on HP so uh… he never made it back to town.” You wipe a fake tear from your eye as you continue on. “And his wife was expecting too. He never got to meet his little boy…” Eddie’s genuine shocked expression makes you laugh. The world that you and your friends had only begun creating felt so silly to you but Eddie was captivated by just one session’s worth of storytelling. He was so captivated that he somehow forgot that the desk chairs provided by the university were rocking chairs so he felt himself fall forward once he put too much of his weight on the back of the chair. Eddie could have sworn he saw his life flash before his eyes in that moment as he felt the chair tip over. He still had so much to do in his life. Eddie dreamt of being the first in his family to graduate from college. He wanted to make something of his life to show everyone back in Hawkins that he wasn’t just another failure like his father. He wanted to see Metallica again, maybe go to Europe. Hell, he wanted to try and find love and he’s pretty sure he found it  but he can’t be with you if he cracks his skull open on your dorm floor.

You reach out to grab Eddie as soon as you realize that he’s about to fall and you end up grabbing onto his bicep. He looks up at you once he realizes that he’s no longer falling and your faces are three inches away from each other. Neither of you are saying anything and just looking into each other’s eyes. The only sounds you two hear are Steve and Robin struggling to hang string lights up on Robin’s walls and the traffic from outside your open window. 

You realize a few things during those few seconds. Number one, Eddie’s eyes look even more beautiful up close, especially with how the light is hitting them. Number two, he has faint freckles dotted across his nose, most likely from being outside during the summer. Number three, you’re definitely in love with Eddie. You barely knew him still but the more you were around him, the more infatuated you were with him. Also, he looked really lanky the first time you met him, but now that you’ve seen him up close and touched his arm you know he must be working out.

Eddie is just happy that you’re this close to him. He could finally kiss you after all these months of longing, but he has to restrain himself lest he ruin your blossoming friendship.

The moment is interrupted by yelling and cars honking outside from the street below. You both  process what has just happened and neither of you are able to contain the giggles that ensue. To Eddie’s disappointment, you pull your hand away and instead clutch your stomach. Eddie now has his head on the backrest of the chair as the two of you try to calm yourselves down.

On the other side of the wall, Robin is standing atop her desk with string lights in hand, almost done hanging them all up. Steve is busy trying to detangle all the wires for her TV when they hear a thud from next door followed by your muffled laughter. Confused, Robin looks down at Steve and they exchange looks of confusion. Carefully, Robin steps down from her desk, onto her desk chair, and then on solid ground. Without speaking a word to her friend, she tiptoes out of the room and peeks her head into your room. From where she’s standing, all she can see is one of her best friends hanging out with her roommate as they try to speak without erupting into laughter again.

“Oh my god, you should have seen your face! It was hilarious!” 

“Oh be quiet, like you haven’t done that before!”

“We’ve all leaned too far back! I’ve never seen someone fall forward in these death traps! Besides, these chairs are made to tip like that! Have you never used them before??”

Having seen enough, Robin turns around and steps back into her room. Steve is still sitting there cross-legged on the floor with the wires in his lap and raises a questioning brow. All she can do is shrug and say, “They seem to be getting along” before going back to work on the lights.

Eddie has a routine when prepping for Hellfire. Yes, he would take time after each session to tweak next week’s plans according to the players actions, but he also had an entire day centered around planning. 

Ever since he started college, Eddie would always make Wednesday his planning day. He made sure that he wasn’t scheduled for a shift down at Moe’s Motors, the auto shop that both he and his Uncle Wayne worked at. He also tried to have as few classes as possible that day. Luckily for him, he didn’t have any classes on Wednesday this semester so he decided early on that he’d dedicate his entire day to his campaigns. If he stayed consistent with his routine, each session would be fully fleshed out roughly one month in advance. 

He found it easiest to work in the comfort of his dorm room. It was a quiet, controlled environment where Eddie could take up as much space as he wanted and nobody would ever bother him. Steve learned pretty quickly that if Eddie’s door was shut on Wednesday then it was best to not bother him. 

Steve was expecting to see Eddie’s door shut when he got back from the gym, so he was surprised to walk into their apartment and see his door wide open and his room empty. He got up to go to the gym at around 7am before Eddie woke up and knew he was there based on the snoring that he heard through the door. The only sign that Eddie was even in there today was his unmade bed with gray plaid bedding and his phone wasn’t charging on his desk. His backpack was missing too. Confused and a little worried, Steve dug out his phone and scrolled through his contacts before he found Eddie’s name and clicked on it. His contact picture was from a past Christmas party where Jonathan had managed to convince Eddie to wear reindeer antlers the entire night and Steve managed to sneak one photo in before he got caught. 

Steve hits the facetime button and waits for Eddie to answer. Something important must be happening for Eddie to disrupt his routine like this. The metalhead answers after a few rings. His hair is tied into a low bun with earbuds in and chewing some gum. He’s answering the call from his phone propped up on something, probably his laptop. Steve can see one of Eddie’s many D&D books in front of him, proving that he just went somewhere else to do his work, but where? Eddie is definitely inside, that he can tell. He’s in front of some windows and there’s a lot of background noise. Eddie is sitting there casually and pops a pretzel into his mouth and goes, “Hey, what’s up?”

Steve, confused, asks, “Where the hell are you? Why aren’t you working in your room?” He’s looking around at the background to try and decipher where on Earth Eddie could be. He can hear the campus bell ringing since it’s the top of the hour, but all that tells him is that Eddie is still on campus. The students walking outside the window are another clue. 

Eddie keeps looking down to his books and then back up like he’s looking for someone. “Oh, I decided to try a change of scenery. That’s all.” Steve is still suspicious about all this and quickly changes out of his sweaty gym clothes and into something clean. He’s looking more at the background and is able to read one of the signs in the background. He’s beating himself up because he should have recognized that building immediately. That’s the back of the nursing building, meaning Eddie had to be in one of the study areas in the biggest academic building on campus. Everyone had classes there at one point, so maybe Eddie decided to try working there? 

Steve hangs up on Eddie without another word and makes his way outside to take the crowded shuttle bus to the main area of campus. The late-August heat was relentless so everyone was trying to spend as little time as possible outside, leaving Steve standing on the bus as it slowly sputtered up the hills to the school. The bus stops right next to the building he suspects Eddie is in so he runs through the entrance to the study area. It’s all wood and tile with a small coffee shop next to the rows of tables and chairs. The area is pretty full so Steve had to look around a bit before he spots his roommate. He’s wearing a green flannel with a black shirt underneath and a pair of sweatpants, probably dressed for the AC blasting in the building rather than the torturous heat.. On the table he has all his usual D&D materials spread out with an open can of Monster next to him. He weaves through the tables of people to get to Eddie and is amazed how his roommate, who always needed absolute silence and zero distractions, was working in such a loud and crowded space. Without a word, he grabs a chair from the table Eddie is sitting at and sits down next to him. 

Eddie sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and looks over to Steve, surprised, and pulls his earbud out of his ear to pause the Gojira song he was just listening to greet him with a confused, “Uh, hey. What are you doing here?” 

Steve leans back in the chair, tipping it back and crosses his arms. He’s looking over in the direction Eddie seemed to be looking during their brief facetime call. He was looking over into one of the main hallways with classes on either side. Steve then looks back to him and replies, “I wanted to see why you weren’t in your room. You always do your Hellfire prep in there and I had to see what made you want to work here…” Steve looks around, noting the smell of burnt coffee and music blaring from people’s phones and laptops. There’s also a group of students having a loud, heated discussion two tables away. 

Eddie hesitates as he’s looking around and trying to come up with a good excuse. No amount of music can help him focus here, but he’d rather give his friend a shitty excuse than tell the truth. “I wanted to try something new?”

Before Steve can respond, Eddie looks up towards those hallways again and smiles. Steve looks in that direction and finally realizes what was going on. He sees you exiting a classroom with an older lady with a messy gray bun and tiny glasses, almost the same size as her eyes. You two are talking passionately about something, just going by your erratic hand movements and how much you two are smiling. The two of you part ways with a wave and “I’ll email you some other ideas I’ve had!” as the hallway ends and opens up to the lobby and study area. You look over to the study area, thinking about doing some research on one of the worn couches near the entrance, before you and Eddie lock eyes with each other. Eddie reaches over to the empty chair next to him and across from Steve and pulls it out for you. Steve slowly turns to Eddie and raises a brow at him. He leans in to Eddie who is watching you hurry over and whispers,

“Were you waiting out here for her?”

Eddie doesn’t answer him, just whacking his shoulder and says “Shut up…” as gets up to greet you, moving some of his books over to behind his laptop and moving his half-empty Monster to the other side of his laptop. When you take the seat and sit down, Eddie excitedly asks, “ Hey sweetheart, how are you?” as you set your bag down under the table. Once you’ve sat down, Eddie casually puts his arm around the back of your chair, his thumb barely grazing your shoulder. The sun wasn’t hitting this part of the building yet, but you swore you felt your body heat up at that moment. The new nickname certainly wasn’t helping. Surely he must be like this with all his friends, always touchy,  giving them his undivided attention, the pet names. You couldn’t fathom anything else. The way he looked at you made you feel too special and that made you a little nervous. Steve greets you with a friendly smile and nod, trying hard to hold back a remark on how convenient that Eddie was sitting right here as you were leaving that classroom. He’d mock Eddie and talk about how weird it was later. Besides, judging on how Eddie was looking at you, he seemed a bit busy with other things.

Unlike Eddie who was donning layers to keep from getting cold inside, you were dressed appropriately for the reason with a pair of well-fitting dolphin shorts and a faded Fall Out Boy shirt that was tied in the front, revealing just a little bit of your belly and your stretch marks. It wasn’t what you originally planned on wearing today, but you were running out of clean clothes and needed to get your laundry done soon. You were a little insecure about the outfit at first, but Robin gave you a boost in confidence when she stepped into the common area of your dorm room as you were brushing your teeth and asked, “Why do you have to look so hot at 8 in the morning??”

 Eddie didn’t know what part of you to look at first. His eyes were instantly drawn to your legs again, but now he gets to see how your thighs look in those tight shorts. Then there’s your midriff - he wanted nothing more than to get you all alone and get his hands on you, to knead at your skin and learn what kinds of sounds you’d make when his hands inevitably moved underneath your shorts and into your panties.

Again, he had to catch himself before his thoughts became too explicit and tried to focus on what you’re saying as the three of you get into a heated discussion about horrible classmates, initiated by you complaining about a guy in your class who went on so many tangents during the class discussion that he wasted maybe twenty minutes of class time. Eventually, the conversation dies down and Eddie switches the topic to you.

“So, uh, how was class? Do anything interesting?”

“I, well -” you look down at your lap and your shoulders droop- “I wouldn’t say it was interesting, but I was talking to my advisor about my senior thesis. I had an idea over the summer and she really likes it so I’m gonna get started on that soon. We’re translating sections of the Odyssey and I wanted to discuss the sounds that the spirits make and then try to draw some connections to the spirits in other pieces of Homeric legend.. I’m excited for it. We also talked a little about grad school and it’s kind of nerve wracking…” Eddie hummed in approval and watched your expression as you explained your options. He may not have known you for very long, but he could tell there were some mixed feelings about this. He takes the hand that's on your chair and moves it in order to reassuringly rub at your shoulder. 

Eddie’s voice softens when he speaks up, “Hey, don’t worry about all that. Like, the idea that you’re even thinking about grad school screams ‘genius’ to me. You’ll do great no matter where you go. Any school would be lucky to have you.” His little pep talk eased your anxiety for the most part, but you decided to quickly change the subject before you began to worry again. You look up at both him and Steve, who you notice didn’t bring anything with him apart from his phone and a half-empty bottle of water. 

“What are you guys up to? Is Steve helping you with your campaign planning?” 

Steve shakes his head, looking at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Eddie is looking back at him and silently pleading for him to not tell you the truth, that he’s only here because he knew you’d be here. Thankfully, Steve isn’t cruel and replies, “Nah, I could never get into Dungeons & Dragons. The most I’ll ever do is give him feedback when he needs it. You play, right? I think I overheard you guys talking about it on move-in day.” 

Much to your enjoyment, Eddie’s hand never left your shoulder as the three of you talked. You explained how you and your friends had finished your first campaign in May but it didn’t feel the same playing over Discord. “I never realized how important it was to be in the same room when you’re playing. We all live in different parts of the state so we couldn’t meet up anywhere. Also there were technical issues which made things difficult. Honestly, I’d love to play again. Maybe I’ll see if there are any groups on campus that are accepting new members.”

You pull one of Eddie’s books toward you and open up to a bookmarked page out of curiosity. It's cover was partially held together by tape and its pages were either dog-eared or filled with post-it notes. While you’re distracted, Steve kicks Eddie under the table and mouths, “You should ask her” before getting up. You barely register his departure as you flip through the pages. Eddie found it cute how interested you were in the book, laughing to himself when you make a look of disgust after flipping to a page with a Beholder, a fleshy orb with one giant eye and multiple eyestalks sticking out of it. “Eugh… I can never get used to him.”

Eddie clears his throat to get your attention, having already taken his hand away from your shoulder and once again tapping his pen against the table. “You know, we’re actually down two members right now. We usually have seven people but one of our members transferred and one graduated so we have some seats open… if you’re interested, of course.” He’s trying to read your face right now. You seemed excited but he wasn’t completely sure and once he starts talking about Dungeons & Dragons he can’t seem to stop. “We’re almost done with our introduction campaign since we’ve got three new members and if I can get everything done in time then we’ll start up again in…  mid-October, maybe?” 

You begin to smile as he’s explaining everything, and that’s more than enough proof that you’re interested in joining. Either that or you like how much he’s rambling. You’re nearly bouncing out of excitement and get up to hug him when he finishes speaking. Both men are shocked by your reaction, but Steve is more entertained by how stunned Eddie looks. His eyes look like they’re bulging out of his skull and his hands are hovering over your back, scared to touch you as if any movement would cause you to pull away. He’s struggling to even get any words out.

“I… so that’s a yes?”

You nod, still holding onto him and reply, “Of course it’s a yes!” 

Eddie felt so relieved and just basked in the moment, finally wrapping his arms around you to return the hug. He’s taking advantage of the hug to take in your scent, immediately obsessed with the coconut scent he’s picking up in your shampoo. It’s so… so you, and he loves it.

You glance over to Eddie’s laptop, curious to see what he was working on - and to possibly get some hints on his future campaign that you’ll be involved in - but the first thing you notice is the time. You had work in an hour and had to get across campus to change and hopefully get there without any traffic. You pull away from him, much to his dismay and go, “Shit–”, and grab your bag before turning to Steve and Eddie, “–I have to get ready for work, I’m sorry. I should have been keeping track of time.” 

Eddie is saddened by this but lets you go anyway, placing his hands on the table and instinctively grabbing a pen to fidget with. Steve gets up with you, stating, “Yeah I actually have to go meet some guys from class to study for an exam so I’m gonna get going too.” 

Before you head out, you turn to Eddie and say, “I’ll send you my character sheet during my lunch break later and you can look it over for me?” and Eddie nods. You’re anxious to get going, still haunted by the amount of time it took you to get home that fateful February day, so you say your goodbyes and head out.

[teletraantwo]

Ok so fair warning a lot of this idea is pretty vague. It was a smaller piece of something bigger and significantly more self indulgent so I didn’t exactly worry on HOW it would happen in a way that makes logical sense. (Also this got very long whoops)

But like, I’m sure in Earthspark Mandroid was not the only one feeling some kind of way about the Transformers. So I can see a company like KSI taking root with the opposite goal of Mandroid, instead of getting rid of all transformers finding out how to make NEW ones who will obey humans. Lofty goals of “protecting the world” with these machines. And for their crowning achievement they decide a bot based on Megatron is the best way to go. After all, he’s on their side now. And he’s already shown himself to be a killer, he’d be useful against whatever KSI deems to be a threat.

There’s a couple different ways I could maybe see them getting access to Megatron, possibly offering their services because if humans can learn more about Cybertronians, then maybe Wheeljack won’t have to be the entirety of their medical team. Megs maybe being put under to get a full scan of all his systems, because one idea I had was the humans needing an authentic power source for at least their primary bot and taking a part of his spark while he’s under, enough he absolutely notices but doesn’t do too much damage. Though he’s not sure that what it is and figures hes just feeling weird about trusting humans like that. Or he’s awake the whole time and KSI manage to make a fully sapient robot with no spark at all truly Bayverse-style. And perhaps something far darker is involved, I never really got that far.

But from the first time this copy, Galvatron, comes online something is wrong. He has his own goals. His own motives. And he’s more than willing to take control of the rest of the KSI drones to accomplish those.

Anyways imagine the Autobots waking up to a disaster on the news. A large chunk of a city in ruins. And the culprit? Megatron. But not Megatron. For one, he had been there with them the whole night. Also Megatron may be a a bit smoother in some areas and his chest curves in a way fitting for his alt mode, but he’s not that sleek. He’s still boxy in the way most all cybertronians are. This warped version of him seems to have had all the edges sanded down in a way that seems Wrong, but it’s undeniable just how much it looks like him.

Megatron having to watch this manmade copy of himself and his mindless drones absolutely destroy large areas. Coming towards them, slowly but surely. There’s only room for one of them. And Galvatron is built specifically to go up against Optimus and Megatron, of not something bigger and stronger. Megatron having to wonder if this ice cold fear in his spark is how bots and humans alike saw him for so long. Finally being on the other end of that brutality and it’s an approximation of his own face looking back.

Sorry this is so long I just really enjoy a character having to face down the worst possible version of themself and get brutalized by them.

The more I think of it, the idea of Megatron dying and being reborn as a manmade Galvatron is fascinating as Hell and I wish we could explore it more

[butch-bakugo]

Why are vetted accounts sending people stuff like this.

I mean it's clearly copy-pasted and sent to multiple people but this isn't even a donations ask. Imma guess the reason people aren't responding is because you're accusing them of not doing enough for Palestine and sending it to multiple people who you clearly don't check because I've been posting about and for Palestine since oct 7th when I learned about it.

Also yes he is looking for donations, you can check his account and find it. Why are you sending this guilt trippy stuff to people and accusing them of not caring enough? You don't know me? You send these to multiple people so your clearly not checking the account in question. This dose nothing to help you personally or the Palestinian cause, it just pisses people off and makes them question vetters.

[moreaujeans]

IM FREEEEEE

[titsthedamnseason]

just formed a mega good plan in my head!!

[ghostsandmirrors]

The already faltering grip that he'd had on his reactions slipped just a little more at the careful agreement. A small, silent, jerky sob escaped him before he forced it all back down, because weapons don't weep, and just stayed still, stayed with his face pressed against Steve as if he were trying to find safety and comfort in the crook of his neck and the collar of his shirt, as if nothing but this feeling could repair the hairline fractures in the dam.

In truth, the consideration and the fact that Steve's agreement was so careful made it worse, made it harder to plug the holes. He'd thought about it and come to the same conclusion, and it wasn't enough to find another bottom to tear out of that pit but it was enough to hurt. It was enough to start at the beginning of the spiral again, or maybe it was the middle, or maybe it was a new spiral altogether that could go lower and lower and lower until the way out was a distant memory, until escape was a fantastical dream, a held out hope with no evidence of reality.

That spiral suddenly seemed very cold and very quiet, with the buzzing of decades old electricity and the thuds of heavy, booted footsteps being so clear.

Later, it would probably be freeing, the idea that he wasn't truly tied to those memories, to that legacy. It'd be no big deal when he didn't feel like a walking deception, an act put on to lower Steve's defenses like he was still trying to complete his mission and had just found a more effective way to manage it. It'd be a memory he'd like to forget, because showing Steve any of this almost felt like he was hinting at horrors that Steve didn't need to have plaguing him, inviting him to lose sleep over things that Steve had never been able to stop, that he would never be able to blame Steve for.

Later, he would pretend it hadn't happened, because he'd had practice; because pretending everything was fine was far easier than acknowledging that it wasn't; because he'd never wanted Steve to worry about him.

Because weapons didn't weep and assets didn't need kindness or comfort. Weapons didn't weep, and assets didn't want, and he was fighting so hard not to do either that he couldn't also fight the hissed thoughts that he could never be brave enough, could never be good enough, could never be enough, and here was the proof; even Steve agreed.

Later, he'd be able to argue against those thoughts, and everything else that Steve had said would feel neutral. It may even all make sense, when he next remembered it while laying awake, staring up at the ceiling with stinging eyes and cotton wool replacing his brain, too tired to even consider trying to silence the whispers in his head for long enough to sleep. It wouldn't feel like it did now; like Steve had given up on getting his Bucky back and was settling for the monster who'd killed him and taken his place, the imposter in his arms.

"Y'deserve him."

His voice was quiet, broken, shattered into a million cracked pieces, and muffled against him, as if saying these words into Steve's shirt or skin or his own tears would make them easier to hear. "How-…" He cut himself off, suddenly uncertain. He hadn't been able to say what he'd wanted to before, that he wanted to be his Bucky--because assets didn't want things--and this question could sound too much like a desperate, last-ditch attempt at being good enough for redemption, because his Bucky had been good enough, at least for Steve. Maybe it was. Maybe he thought it was, in that moment, in that spiral, unable to find the way out.

"How do I be him? "

Some part of him realized, far too late, that it wasn't fair to ask. It wasn't fair to ask how he could pretend to be the bait Steve had been lured in with, how he could drag his Bucky back from where he'd been dumped and left to die slowly, painfully, by agents who were 'just doing their jobs' so that he could copy him. That part of him snapped, and he was sure he heard it break in the moment before whatever part of him were still in tact crumbled so completely that all he could do was cling, holding on like he was afraid of what could happen if he didn't.

"M'sorry." It was all he could say between the silent sobs that tore at his throat like they were trying to escape, trying to open him up, trying to rip a big enough hole in him to reveal that emptiness, the hollowness of that cavernous ribcage, shine light on the ravenous depths, make Steve aware of what he was holding.

"M'sorry." His right hand hurt from the grip on Steve's shirt, clenched too tightly while he tried to stop his entire being from collapsing in on itself, trying to stop his physical being from buckling and becoming a pile of… whoever he was, because at this point he wasn't sure he could recognize any of the piece, wasn't sure he could fit them back in the right places.

"M'sorry." The pain in his throat from trying to stay silent had turned his apologies into a whimpered whisper, a too-quiet plead to not be abandoned in these ruins. "M'sorry." A beg from a ghost to not be left at the bottom of those depths, to at least have his body returned for Steve to properly mourn. "M'sorry."

I'm not him.

That whole sentence shattered Steve to his core. It left him feeling vulnerable and weak in his heart. He wasn't him. He wasn't the boy he grew up with. He wasn't the man that saved him numerous times. He didn't see the same person when he looked in the mirror as Steve did. He didn't see Bucky Barnes, Bucky didn't see the amazing person that he was. He saw the weapon, didn't he? He saw all the chaos and everything that he was forced to reckon.

Steve paused considering the situation. It wouldn't be right to agree and tell him it was Steve's fault that he was changed. That everything would have been the same if Steve would have looked. He could have had the best care given to Bucky and he could have been a disabled veteran home safe. He could have been resting and recovering while Steve fought the frontlines. But Bucky wouldn't have wanted that. Would he? He would have wanted to be by Steve's side just like Steve wanted to fight in the 107th the minute Bucky was drafted.

"You're not him." He agreed, understanding to some degree and bringing his hand to rest on Bucky's cheek that he could see exposed. That wasn't hiding in his shirt threatening to burrow deep inside.

"You're you. You've been changed by the events but they don't define you. You have the chance to remake yourself and be what you think you are now. Not what they made you. Not what I knew before. You can be a whole new person but the first step? Is coming out of the shade and telling me you're not afraid."

He wasn't even sure what he was doing now. He felt like he was grabbing at straws. "I deserve you. Because I deserve to be with someone that thinks I deserve more and would fight for me to have the best that I could possibly have even if they think it isn't them. Especially if they think it isn't them."

[doodlingwren]

It's 2024 can we please stop saying it's normal to trace or copying an entire drawing and pretending it's 100% your work? Just bc you changed the character or added clothes on a base you found on pinterest it doesn't mean you created original art

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than brutality

In celebration of overcoming what once felt impossible (available in both transgender and gay flavors)

[leafy-m]

So I hit my 700th edit for the WHA wiki today, because I am a totally normal person