#she always seems to write what i'm thinking

[blackbat05]

Opposites Attract

Congressman Bucky x Library Staff Reader

Plot: You were never really one for politics, but when Congressman James "Bucky" Barnes and an Avenger comes to grace the library for work, he may just prove you wrong...

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Super self-indulgent (yet again). Watched Thunderbolts over the weekend and despite being very partial to the MCU, this movie seriously impressed me! I love my rag-tag team~ Please excuse the subpar writing as I feel like I'm still in a funk.

He absolutely regrets this.

Yeah he should have never agreed to this.

“Congressman Barnes?”

The secertary snaps him out of his anxiety hazed stupor. “Sorry Linda, you were saying?”

“As I was saying, your appearance at the public library has been shifted up to 2pm. There’s a kid’s program and they’re hoping you’ll be able to grace them with your presence.” Linda informs.

“Thank you.” Bucky dismisses the secretary, immediately taking out his darned notes that Gary insisted he had to read.

“New York Public Library recently had their children’s library go under redevelopment…”

***

“Y/N!” Darcy rushes over. The young girl drags a chair to sit beside you as you’re pouring over the story time you planned for the kids coming in for the reading session at 2pm.

“Someone’s awfully cheery after lunch.”

“Congressman James Barnes is coming! To our library!” She hisses with excitement. “Gosh he’s so cute, I hope he gets to interact with the kids because that would just make me explode!”

“Okayyy, someone needs to calm down on the caffeine.” You swivel your chair to face her. “First of all, he’s doing his duty Darcy, second of all aren’t you being too vocal with your fantasies?”

“A girl can dream.” Darcy singsongs. “Good luck!”

You sigh at her enthusiasm that was bordering on naivety. The congressman was probably going to be the same as the rest, they always are. They’ll come and show their faces for photos and leave without truly understanding what they had to be here for.

Though a part of you can’t help but to agree with Darcy. Those good looks are wasted in politics.

The clock read 1.15pm. You should start getting ready for the session.

***

“You seem very engrossed in that packet, sir.”

“I find it tough how we can fund billions for weapons and nuclear warfare but it takes almost six years to refurbish the children’s section of the New York Library.”

“I can’t say anything else apart from my need to agree with you, sir.” Linda crisply responds.

Bucky stays silent, thinking about his own memories as a child in the library. A library was meant to be a safe space, away from the ruckus of life.

The car rolls to a stop and Bucky gets out with two guards trailing behind him.

“What am I? An invalid? I don’t need bodyguards, Linda. This is a Children’s Library. I don’t need them to have more things to be scared of.”

“Apologies sir. I’ll speak with the Director and make other necessary arrangements after the event.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

The trio departs from Bucky who decides to take the chance to explore the library that was as every bit as he remembered it.

He takes a random book and finds a spot that is hidden away from the public eye to do some people watching at the Children’s Library.

Mothers take this chance for a reprieve and catch up with their friends while the little ones try to flip big picture books with much effort. The older children roam around the series section, discussing in excited hushed voices the latest book that they had each read. Bucky’s heart oddly feels satisfied when he sees a little boy nose deep into a Geronimo Stilton book. Ah, a timeless classic for kids.

“Congressman Barnes?”

Bucky turns around, slightly apologetic that he had been people watching for too long.

“I’m the children’s librarian- well, technically support staff. I’m working towards becoming a librarian but of course you didn’t need to know that.” You inwardly cursed at yourself. He’s definitely going to think you’re bonkers.

Then, he chuckled.

Actually chuckled.

“I’ll be sitting in your session later? I promise not to stare as much.”

Before you can get a good word in, the charming congressman strolls away, leaving you in a mess.

***

"Good afternoon children!" You put on your best enthusiastic voice, as you greet the crowd.

"Good afternoon Ms Y/N!"

Even after doing this for too many times to count, being in front of children who were waiting to be impressed still gave you the jitters. Nevertheless, you were proud to say that you had build rapport with them steadily over the past six months.

"So, we've been reading books about values and I thought we could continue our discussion with a short but humorous story that I know will promise a good laugh." You show the book, eliciting a couple of giggles from the children.

“Today’s story is by Jon Klassen and it’s titled - I want my hat back…”

***

By the end of the story, the children were throughly amused at the simple but larger than life visuals that told a clear message. You were also glad that all that practice of different animal voices came in handy.

“Thank you for listening so well! For the last part of our session as we won’t be seeing each other for two weeks, we can do something fun! We’re going to create our very own paper hats!” You continued. “That’s not all, we’ll be doing it with a very special guest so I want all of you to help him along okay?”

Once you introduced Bucky, you offered him to roam around the tables where the children were already planning how to design the best hat.

As you helped a boy add stickers to his hat, your attention is diverted to a mini commotion at the table ahead.

“What’s all the buzz about?” You moved closer, almost bursting into unruly laughter yourself when you see the Congressman sitting in tiny plastic chair wearing a red cone hat similar to the character while the kids fluttered around to add sparkles and glitters, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Not Bucky though as his eyes widen at the sight of you. You give a slight cough to get the attention of the children.

“Alright now, let’s not crowd around Mr Barnes.” You ushered the children away, giving a couple of soft apologies on their behalf.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it.” He appeared to have snapped out of his momentary embarrassment of being covered in glitter, back to his charming self that you had the privilege of experiencing firsthand.

The rest of the session went smoothly (and glitter free). Bucky watches you bid goodbye to each kid in a unique and special way, from fist bumps to hugs and sometimes just a simple wave of the hand to the quieter kids. The children's section is quiet once more and he is amazed how you flutter around the tables, cleaning up effortlessly.

"Can I help?" He finds himself speaking up.

"Oh, that's alright. Wouldn't want to get your suit all messed up." You respond airily, trying to ignore the close proximity with Bucky.

"I insist." He says firmly and starts helping you to gather the scissors. You can't help but to notice how there's a butterfly sticker on his metal hand.

"A little girl - Lucy, she put this on me." He explains fondly. "Can't bear to take it off, at least not today."

Lucy. She never failed to turn up for every library session. Although she wasn't the loudest in the room, she participated with a quiet determination. Which was why you found this revelation particularly surprising.

"That's amazing. She takes a while to warm up to strangers. Well, not that you aren't a complete stranger. You're an Avenger- oh I'm doing it again aren't I?"

"That's okay." Bucky reassures you calmly. "I like it."

His straightforwardness throws you off, leaving you flustered but oddly pleased.

"Hey-"

"No, you go first."

"Do you want to get a drink?" Bucky asks. Before you could respond, loud voices could be heard from the adult's section, slowly becoming much louder.

"Oh no..."

"There you are!" Bucky spots Alexi from a mile away with that strikingly bright red suit. The rest of the team hushes him collectively, with Yelena attempting to make herself as small as possible.

"We've been trying to call you! Then your assistant- and she said you were in this place of knowledge! Oh, and who is this lady?" Alexi stares at you, intrigued. Bucky steps in front, feeling protective.

"Alright, can we focus, please?" Bucky shoots you an apologetic look that you clearly understood.

You'll have to reschedule.

***

“So! Are you not going to tell us who she is?” John is the first to broach the topic. Bucky gives him one of his famous death glares. However, this only encourages him and the rest of the team more.

"She seems lovely." Yelena teases, "Though I'm not sure why she would be attracted to a grump like you."

"Opposites attract." Ava adds helpfully (or unhelpfully in Bucky's opinion).

The jet flies across the ocean, making its way back home. Bucky taps his foot impatiently. Any longer with this group and having to endure their teasing might just make him commit daylight murder.

Bucky feels a buzz in his pocket and he fishes out his phone to read the message.

"Oooooh! Someone's texted back!" The team is in sync with their onslaught on their leader.

"Someone just kill me now." He mumbles under his breath.

*** You tug on your cardigan, waiting for Bucky on the steps of the library.

"Doll!" You hear a familiar voice that made your heart skip a beat. Though you must say, you were a little shocked to find out that he wasn't alone.

"Hello! Miss Librarian!" Alexi booms.

"Oh my god Dad she has a name." Yelena groans.

"Yes but she is proud of her job no?"

"Sorry about these idiots. Hi, John Walker." The man extends his hand for a handshake before being brushed aside by Bucky.

"Hi," you decide to make yourself known. "Bucky's told me about all of you."

"Whatever he's told you, don't believe all of it. The man's too grumpy for his own good." Yelena pipes up as Ava nods.

"Ok! And it is time for you to all go. The jet does not need a parking ticket." Bucky interjects pushing his teammates away from you. "Bob's waiting!"

With a couple more goodbyes, the jet zooms away, leaving the two of you still standing on the steps of the library.

"Not everyday my date is late because he's keeping the world safe from bad guys and outer space threats." You joke.

Bucky doesn't say a word and you're suddenly afraid that you may have fried his internal circuits.

"Sorry, I wasn't mad-"

"I'm your date?" He says with a grin and your words slowly sink in.

"Oh, well... I thought... um..." You scramble for words much to Bucky's amusement and he takes a step closer towards you.

"Would it be weird to say right now that I was thinking exactly the same thing?"

The both of you laugh and your stomach takes this moment to grumble loudly.

"Someone's hungry. I know a good Japanese Restaurant."

"I'm always down for good food."

He slots his fingers in between yours, holding on to your hand firmly.

"Great, then Sushi awaits."

"You are a god send."

[queen-of-the-avengers]

The Only Exception

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k (including lyrics)

Warnings: none

Summary: Love doesn’t exist for someone like you. It’s not in the cards and never has been. That is, until you meet Bucky. He keeps proving to you that there is a whole world outside of the castle you’ve locked your heart in.

Square Filled: bed sharing (2021_ for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: this is based on the song The Only Exception by Paramore (inspiration from the music video)

x

When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry And curse at the wind He broke his own heart and I watched As he tried to reassemble it And my momma swore That she would never let herself forget And that was the day that I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist

It’s the middle of the night and you can’t sleep. Bucky softly snores next to you since he found sleep a few hours ago, but you can’t seem to get there. Your head is resting on his arm with your back to his chest, and his metal arm is loosely slung over your waist. The reason you can’t sleep is because your mind is filled with fear and bad thoughts. Thoughts that make you doubt the relationship you’re in.

If you can even call it a relationship.

This whole thing with Bucky started when he was on the run from SHIELD and HYDRA. You two met in Vienna when you were on vacation. He was at a vulnerable point in his life and wanted the simple life which is what you had. You rented a small cottage on the edge of the city that was surrounded by trees.

He found comfort in that and he found comfort in you. You thought the little tryst in Vienna would be the extent of your relationship, but you found yourself back in the United States with him. Suddenly, the realization that what you two have or had would be real, and it scared the fuck out of you.

Love doesn’t come easily for someone like you. Everyone around you had failing relationships or relationships they couldn’t escape. Your sister just got a divorce, your best friend has never been in a serious relationship and goes through guys faster than is normal, and your parents aren’t that better off. The earliest memory you have is of your dad crying because he lost your mom, his wife, and it was his own damn fault. He had an addiction, a gambling addiction, and he let it consume himself until your mom forced him out of his home, her life.

Your father was cursing himself at the same time your mother was drowning in her sorrows. She swore never to let this happen to her again.

That was the day you promised never to let something as arbitrary as love past your walls. The relationship with Bucky started off as physical until you started growing feelings for him. Feelings you’ve been trying to avoid this whole time.

You lift Bucky’s arm and carefully slide out of bed. You gather your clothes while keeping one eye on Bucky to make sure he doesn’t wake. After getting dressed, you grab a pen off his desk and write “I’m sorry” in scrawly handwriting.

You can’t get hurt like they have, so you leave.

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul That love never lasts And we've got to find other ways to make it alone Or keep a straight face And I've always lived like this Keeping a comfortable distance And up until now I had sworn to myself That I'm content with loneliness Because none of it was ever worth the risk

Tears blur your vision but you keep driving away from the house, away from the comfort of Bucky’s arms. You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know how to let anyone past your thick walls knowing your heart might not be safe with them. All you’ve seen is pain and you can’t allow your heart to be drenched in it.

The red light stops you at the intersection, and you sob at leaving Bucky alone knowing he is going to wake up to that cowardly note. He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve you. He deserves better. Your head falls back on the seat as you think about Bucky and what you two have shared over the years.

“You know, if you drive any faster, you’ll get into a wreck,” you chuckle.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

Bucky stops at a red light and looks at you with hooded eyes. He is driving you home after a first date, and he has wanted to kiss you since picking you up. He was going to wait until you got to your front door like a gentleman, but he can’t wait.

He grabs the sides of your face and kisses you, catching you completely off guard. It’s a good kind of surprise because you’ve wanted to kiss him since he picked you up. His lips feel too good to stop, and it sends your stomach into a flutter.

Someone honks behind you and you pull away from him to see the light has turned green. Bucky licks his lips to savor the taste of you before driving off.

You can still remember the words he said to you when he dropped you off. Please stay. You make me human. That’s what sent your stomach plummeting. That’s what scared you. Loneliness is a familiar feeling, one that you’ve memorized every detail of. Up until Bucky, you had sworn that you’d be content with loneliness because then you wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt.

No one else had been worth the risk, and it terrifies you that Bucky may be.

Someone honks their horn behind you and you look at the light that’s no green. You take off down the road, seeing stores and parks that you and Bucky frequented. All the good memories are wrapped in a clear plastic film of fear. You look at the strip of stores on your right and see yourself and Bucky walking down the street with ice cream in hand. A happy smile on your face, relaxation in his features.

If only it were ever that easy.

I've got a tight grip on reality But I can't let go of what's in front of me here I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

If you turn onto the freeway now, it’ll take you away from this town, away from Bucky. If you make a U-turn at the light, you’ll be driving back into his arms. You’re parked on the side of the road, unsure of the decision to make. Everything in you is telling you to take that ramp and not get hurt. No one is worth the risk of pain that you’ve seen.

However, you can’t seem to let go of Bucky. When you’re with him, it’s fun and free. You don’t have to worry about where you going to go or who you’re going to be with. If you’re with him, you know you’ll be safe. That’s when the monsters like to strike. Safe and vulnerability go hand-in-hand. If you show one of them, the other is bound to trip you from behind.

It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

What if you stayed? What if you didn’t let fear control you? What if, for once, you allow yourself to be happy? Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you to break the cycle. It gave you a good one and here you are, wasting it.

Bucky became your first for a lot of things, the things that truly mattered. The first man you told ‘I love you’ to. The first man you let sleep over. The first man to meet your mom. The first man to sink his claws so deep that you feel him in every thought you have.

Maybe it’s finally time to push yourself out of this comfort zone you’ve barricaded yourself in.

You put the car into drive, pull up to the light, and make a U-turn.

You are the only exception And I'm on my way to believing Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

You open the front door carefully, straining your ears to see if Bucky is awake. You’ve only been gone for two hours, but he doesn’t sleep much. You tiptoe up the stairs and pad softly to his bedroom door. The moonlight shines dimly inside the room, but you can clearly see the outline of Bucky in the sheets.

He’s still asleep. He hasn’t read your note.

You peel off the layers of clothes you hurried to put on and leave them in the same pile his are in. Bucky has shifted during sleep so you lift the covers and slide back next to his naked body. The second he feels your skin, he turns and wraps his arm around your body. You snuggle closer to him and press a kiss to his bare chest.

“Please don’t break my heart,” you whisper.

Finally, you succumb to sleep knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

x

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[dismalflo]

…it’s me again from the last req. maybe you could do one where it’s like one of the pure blood boys(I was thinking maybe Sirius or barty) and it’s like they don’t realise how deeply rooted like the misogyny of how they grew up is in their brains. Maybe they make an offhand comment or action towards the reader that’s like almost passive aggressively sexist and she like totally calls them out on it and is like y, u can’t talk to me like that. did that make sense? I don’t think that made sense but oh well

thankyou for requesting!! i struggled with this one for a bit but its such a good idea. i hope you enjoy <3

Barty Crouch Jr. x fem!reader where he can't quite understand why you're upset ✩ 1.6k words

cw: misogyny, little bit angsty, hurt/comfort, Barty is a dick (but he tries to learn from it), reader plays quidditch.

an: sorry i made your fave a piece of shit (with redemption) it hurt to write

“ –you agree with me Reggie, surely.”

“I do not, thank you. And do I have to remind you that your girlfriend–”

Regulus cuts himself off when he sees you approaching, but the scowl directed at Barty doesn’t shift. Barty doesn’t seem to care as he, noticing your arrival too, turns to smile so wide, you’re sure it hurts his cheeks, forgetting the conversation all together.

“Treasure!” he exclaims as you sit yourself beside him, before planting a lingering kiss to your temple.

“What were you guys talking about?” you ask before nodding to Regulus, “Heard you mention me.” 

"Barty’s an idiot, Y/N, I’m sorry." Regulus sighs heavily, standing abruptly from his seat. "I'll see you at practice, yeah?" His gaze flicks to you, not a single word is directed toward the boy beside you, his arm comfortably wrapped around your waist. The snub feels sharp, though you're not entirely sure why.

“He’s become bloody dramatic since he started seeing potter.” Barty says cheerfully, as if he’s not the most melodramatic man you know. The only times you’ve seen Barty drop his theatrics is when it’s only the two of you. He’s still impulsive and daring but the fire gets dropped for sweetness and he's lovely. You’re his and he’s yours.

“What did you do to rile him up, Bee?” you tease, leaning into his side with a gentle smile. 

He squeezes your waist briefly, pulling you in closer before responding.

“We were talking about Quidditch, and he complained about one of your beaters. I said that it must be annoying trying to get the girls to listen, poor bloke.”

You blink, processing his words, and a cold chill starts to creep down your spine. It takes a moment for the reality of what he's said to fully hit you. 

"What did you just say?" You ask slowly, your voice steady.

Barty doesn't notice the shift in your demeanor. His grin only widens, his eyes sparkling with affection as he watches you. To him, it’s just another offhand remark; playful, maybe teasing, but never meant to hurt. It’s the way he’s always been.

"I said, it must be annoying trying to get the girls to listen," he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Y’know because girls never stop talking.” he nods.

Your smile falters, and you pull back from him slightly. His arm falls from your waist, the space between you suddenly feeling miles wide. Regulus’s parting words echo in your mind, but you focus on Barty now. His face morphs into one of confusion, a flicker of amusement still lingering, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand why your mood has shifted.

 It’s laughable, really, coming from a boy that says everything that flashes through his mind, always loud and known. That’s just Barty and you’d never complain about it or ask him to change –you love him–but this rubs you the wrong way.

“You’d prefer that I didn't speak so much, then?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Tres, I didn’t say–”

“But you did, Barty! I'm on that team! I'm one of the girls Regulus has to deal with!”

Barty blinks, clearly thrown off. His smile falters for a moment, and he opens his mouth, likely trying to smooth things over with some careless, half-thought-out joke. But when he sees the sharpness in your eyes, the edge to your voice, it makes him falter.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he begins, his tone defensive but still a little unsure, his hand coming up to run through his hair–because he’s frustrated or nervous you can't tell. “It’s just that, well… y’know, girls can sometimes be a bit more, uh, talkative than the guys–”

“Are you serious right now?” You cut him off, your voice not loud, but steady with the kind of controlled anger that makes Barty’s stomach twist.

Barty opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure of how to proceed. An uncomfortable feeling taking hold, but there’s also something inside of him—a deep-rooted, unexamined part of him—that wants to dismiss this as you being too sensitive. He’s never really thought about his own words that deeply, never had to. Growing up, he was surrounded by a very particular brand of masculinity.

"I didn’t mean to offend you, honestly," Barty says quickly, his voice softer now, though still with that edge of defensiveness. "I just meant that—"

"Yeah, I know what you meant," you interrupt, voice icy. "But the problem is, Barty, you're so used to saying whatever comes to your mind without thinking about it for one second. You don’t get to say things like that and just get away with it. "

He stares at you, his mouth opening and closing again, looking as though he’s trying to piece together exactly where he went wrong. His brow furrows, a flash of frustration crossing his face. 

"You're making it sound like I hate women or something. I don’t. You know I don’t. It was just a joke."

“No, I don’t think you hate women,” you respond coolly. "But you clearly don’t get how ingrained some of that shit is.” You stand up suddenly, ready to walk away. “I’ll see you later, Barty.” 

-

It’s just past curfew when you hear the knock on the door of the girls' dormitory. You open it, bleary-eyed and ready to tell whoever it is to sod off—only to find Barty standing there, hair a mess, eyes wide, hands full of... flowers?

They’re awful. Wild, lopsided things that look like they were pulled from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And he’s holding them like they might explode.

“Hi,” he says, voice tight with nerves. “I—I brought these. They’re not from an actual florist or anything, but I thought maybe you’d like them anyway because... well, because I’m sorry. And I didn’t know what else to do.”

You raise an eyebrow, but you don’t close the door.

“I was a dick,” he continues, words tumbling out now like he’s afraid if he stops, you’ll shut him out for good. “A stupid, arrogant, loud-mouthed dick who didn’t realise that he’s been spoon-fed this idea that making fun of girls is just ‘harmless banter’. But it’s not. Not when it’s you. Not when it makes you look at me like I’m someone you don’t recognise.”

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“I don’t want to be that person,” Barty says, voice breaking a little now. “Not with you. You make me want to be—better, not just louder.”

The silence between you stretches.

“I hated how quick you were to dismiss it. To dismiss me,” you say, voice softer now, but still firm. “You’re smart, Barty. You should know better.”

“I do now. I was thinking about it and then I went to talk to Reg about it. He said it's something about the way we were raised, some batshit thing that goes hand in hand with my fathers bullshit, but I know that's not an excuse, tres.” He steps forward slightly, holding the scraggly bouquet out like a peace offering. “Please let me make it up to you.”

You hesitate. But in his eyes, you see none of the easy arrogance you’d grown used to. There’s only sincerity.

You sigh and take the flowers, fingers brushing his as you do. They're prickly in places, uneven, with leaves still clinging to the stems—but they’re honest. Wild and untamed, just like him.

Barty doesn’t grin. Doesn’t make a joke. He just walks in slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his robes, like he’s afraid to breathe too loudly.

You sit on the edge of your bed, the flowers resting in your lap. He stays standing.

“I’m not good at this,” he says after a beat. “Like… not just the apologising part, but the learning part. I've been told I’m clever all my life, and it’s made me lazy. I don't question things unless they get in my way.”

You nod, watching him closely.

“But you’re not just someone in my way. You’re the person who makes all the noise in my head worth it. So if I’ve got to unlearn everything just to not lose you, I’ll do it.”

A breath catches in your throat. “This isn’t just about keeping me, Bee. It’s about being someone better. For you.”

His eyes flicker, glassy for a moment, and he sits down—tentatively—beside you. “I know.”

You glance down at the flowers again and then up at him, lips tugging into a small, reluctant smile. A silence settles between you.

 “These are hideous.” you say finally. “You can’t just fix things with flowers and guilt, Barty, It’s not that simple.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, sincere. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

Barty reaches over, tentative, and places his hand over yours. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t try to pull you closer. He just stays.

“I’m gonna mess up again,” he says softly. “But I’ll listen. I’ll learn. And I’ll apologise when I do. Properly. Not with jokes.”

You glance at him, heart aching with something complicated and warm and stubbornly hopeful.

“You’d better.”

His smile is small, a little broken around the edges, but real. “Does this mean you’re not going to dump me?”

You pretend to consider it, then lean your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “You’re on thin ice, Junior.”

He huffs a laugh, and for the first time tonight, it sounds like him.

“I’ll take it,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against your hair.

masterlist <3

[gallifreyan85]

highkey im LOVING all ur agathaxreader fics im literally in a pool of tears when i read each one and I LOVE IT SO MUCHHHHHH ILOVEIT AND ILOVEUFORMAKINGIT,,, so pls dont explode anytime in the near future i need more fics, i literally need one everyday its now a drug ts insane i have a fic req, if u could make a 'tell ur baby that im ur baby' - i bet on losing dogs, where someone gets jealous that someone else is getting more attention that them, ex agatha losing her self bc she saw u hugging ur old teacher or reader crying themself to sleep because they think agatha likes billy more than them :) PLSPSLSPLSLPSLPSLPSLP I BEG OF U MAKE ONE IM GONNA DIE ILYSM IF U DO

Hii, I'm sorry if this took too long, I was traveling and then had college stuff, so I was in a bit of a hustle. I had started writing this and then kind of got off track a little (hence the title being different), but I tried to keep it around the whole reader thinking agatha prefers billy now, and all that jazz. I hope you like it, if you're not happy tell me, it has a bit more dialogue than my usual fics, but hopefully it'll be okay. Thanks for the request!!

<3

Hurt Me and Tell Me You're Mine

summary: Summary: after Wanda closed the hex, things got complicated. Now you’re on the witches road with your mentor after not seeing her for three years, and she brought someone who you think might be your replacement (Billy.) With everyone reeling after what happened during the third trial, you try to talk to her and sort things out.

pairing: mentor!Agatha x reader

A/n: as always, more stuff at the end, this was originally supposed to be part 5 of (𝐼 𝒲𝒶𝓃𝓉) 𝒩𝑜 𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 but I have something else planned for that sooo. idk. it's my bday tomorrow i'm a bit chaotic. enjoy!!

The Witches Road was no place for the faint of heart. You’d learned that the hard way, first getting drenched during Jen’s trial, then almost burning to death because of a curse during Alice’s. When Teen had gotten hurt you caught a glimpse of something in Agatha’s eyes, the way she lingered for just a moment too long after everyone had already made sure he was okay. It had been three years since you’d last seen her and you wanted to sit down and talk, catch up for lack of a better, less normal word, but time didn’t seem to be on your side. And it seemed Agatha wasn’t either. You’d been her student, if that was what you could call it, and she was relentless and strict and sarcastic, but she’d taught you things about magic no other witch ever would. You were sure of it. Her view on magic was all control and precision, yet chaos and power at the same time.

It was a lot.

It was unique.

But you didn’t regret it.

You still wondered if maybe she did. She never told you. In fact, ever since you barged in to find her and this other boy around your age in her house, along with a bunch of witches you didn’t know, she kept quiet around you. So you came along. Of course it would be dangerous, like everything else she ever did, but you could handle it. You didn’t spend three years perfecting your magic best as you could to flake out at the slightest opportunity of chaos. Maybe you were like her after all. And then her trial came along. You were there with the rest of them, on Teen’s side when the others tried to turn on her, and then her mother’s ghost was there, and Agatha was pleading with them, pleading, not to leave her behind, and Alice stepped in, and--

You shook the memory out of your head. Tried to clear your thoughts. It didn’t really work, apart from giving your already minor headache a boost, but you sighed and tried to relax anyway. Being tense would get you nowhere.

It was then that you realized the rest of the coven, whoever was left-- had finally stopped arguing. You turned to see Jen and Lilia talking to Teen, all three of them sitting down, not sparing you a glance. Neither Agatha or Rio were in sight. You sighed. While you did wonder about Rio, who she was and why Agatha seemed to hate her so much, you didn’t feel up to going to look for her. You wanted to find Agatha. And with the others preoccupied, this was your chance.

So, quietly, unnoticed by anyone, you slipped away from the path and onto a little clearing, hoping that Agatha didn’t go far. You’d learned that the trial would be ahead of you whichever way you went, but that didn’t mean you were eager to wonder around such a place alone. You had just spotted something resembling a small pond, or maybe more of a swamp-- it was covered with weeds and tall, wet grass hanging from overhead branches from the trees-- when a voice made you jump.

“You never were very good at following the rules.” Agatha stepped out from a dark nook you hadn’t even noticed, a distant smirk on her face, not quite reaching her eyes, “But then again, that was part of why I liked you.”

You turned around to see her striding towards you in a slow, seemingly composed way, hands shoved in her coat pockets.

“Liked?” you murmured quietly.

She chuckled.

“I did share my very vast magical knowledge with you. Be a little grateful.”

You stayed quiet. Her smirk, which you suspected was fake, fell into something of a contemplative expression. She seemed… less sure of herself.

It unnerved you a little.

“Stray not from the path,” she went on, her voice a teasing lilt. “And yet…”

“I was looking for you.” you murmured.

“Still, it’s no excuse.” she huffed faintly, coming to a stop next to you, blue eyes fixed on the muddy pond. “We’re already down one person. You shouldn’t wander off unless you wanna be number two.”

“Three.” you said faintly.

She gave you a confused look.

“Sharon Davis?” you gestured around the air to no avail. Agatha frowned.

“Who?”

You sighed. “The gardening lady.”

Her nose scrunched, a vague scoff escaping her. “Oh. Right. Two people then. But the point still stands.”

And then--

“Why are you here?”

You stayed quiet. She frowned.

“Pet—”

“You used to call me that all the time.” you said softly. She didn’t look at you.

“Did I?”

“Yes. Now you just use my name. It’s…” What was it? Odd, unnatural, distant-- too distant.

You knew she didn’t care for you in any soft, affectionate way, of course she didn’t, but you felt like she was purposefully being vague and quiet towards you. Maybe it was the three years of not talking. Maybe she already forgot about you. What were you really? A student? How many of those she must’ve had over the years, dozens, maybe hundreds, and you were just one in the long line of Agatha Harkness wannabes, making yourself think she had it in her to become fond of you.

Maybe she did. Or so you thought. The hope you held had slowly started to die out from the moment you stepped into her basement. When you turned to look at her her head was held high, one hand running through her hair, the other somewhere along her side, half hidden by that blue coat, fingers grasping around nothing as if she was perfecting an invisible spell.

“Did you get it back?” you asked quietly blurting out your thoughts.

She paused.

You weren’t sure if she was expecting you to ask about Alice, or what happened, why it happened, but you didn’t. Selfishly enough, you were meaning to keep on track for trying to get her to talk to you. To bridge that gap that was somehow there no matter how hard you tried to follow her, agree to her ideas, watch her when she was watching someone else.

“No.” she said flatly. “Not all the way, at least.” she raised a hand, twisted her fingers, and you watched as a small cloud of warm orange light slipped around her empty palm, swirled for a moment, and then vanished into a puff of smoke.

She wasn’t looking at it. Her eyes were fixed on some distant spot, far beyond the forest.

“That’s still something.” you tried to sound optimistic. “Something’s better than nothing.”

She scoffed, shoving her hands back into her pockets.

“You always were so cheerful. I suppose you’re right, sure. But this is nothing compared to—” she paused. You could see the inner turmoil in her eyes, that quiet fury mixed with longing.

“It’s different.” she said, turning away. “If it had been someone like Wanda—”

“I tried to find her, you know.” you said quietly.

You thought she’d at least turn to look at you. She didn’t.

“And?”

“People say she’s dead. I’m...not too sure. They didn’t even find her body, but…”

Agatha huffed. “You could’ve done something useful.”

You frowned.

What? Was she serious?

“I did it for you.” you said, firmly, a little surprised, almost desperate, “I was doing it to help you—”

“Well a lot of good that did.” she sighed.

You fell silent. Hurt. You saw her gaze flick over your face, and something sharp softened in her blue eyes.

“What did you think you’d do? If you...found her.”

“I would’ve asked her to lift that- that spell. Whatever it was.”

She tilted her head.

“Why?”

Because I wanted to help. Because you’re the only person I can call family, the only one who-

You decided to be honest.

“Because I-- missed you.”

She didn’t say anything. You thought you saw her huff, lightly, glance away-- but maybe it was all in your head.

She was turned away from you, her head towards the faint chatter of the others, Teen talking to Lilia, their voices carrying through the thicket of the underbrush. You felt a wave of frustration course through you.

“Agatha.” you said.

She turned. Perfect posture, perfect teeth, sharp smile in place.

“Yes?”

And no words left you. A part of you maybe wanted to scream. To ask her why she was acting like this, so distant, so unlike her to be gloating so much, the lack of teasing little taunts murmured to you in passing. Instead she was just… quiet. Yes, she teased the others, but you? It was almost as if she was ignoring you.

“Are you going to stand there and gawk at me or are you going to speak?” she asked, enunciating every word with clear precision.

That felt more like her. Something eased inside of you, a familiarity, a warmth, at her voice saying things you were used to. Things you wouldn’t admit you so dearly missed in your time apart.

You took a breath. “Why are you so curious about him?” you blurted.

It wasn’t what you were meaning to ask, your preferred response would’ve been something like ‘can you let me in on what’s going on’ or ‘are you mad at me’ and now she was looking at you like that, like you just asked her something very funny and amusing and she looked smug. More like the Agatha you knew. It hurt a little as much as it soothed. You wondered briefly if you would die with her one day, just like this, meet your end stuck in some nevereding loop of running after the affection of someone who might not even want you anymore, not in her coven, not as her student, definitely not as a daughte--

“Oooh.” she smirked, tilting her head, “is someone feeling left out?”

You crossed your arms. Your insides were screaming yes, yes I am, why are you so interested in him, why won’t you talk to me, I was there first-

Instead you just said, “No.”

She smiled. “No? Are you sure, dear? I do know you very well, and-”

“All this time you’ve been watching him.” you said, looking down at the murky water below, “I want to know why. And it’s not just boredom, you don’t look like that at the people you’re not trying to figure out. So why him? Is it the sigil? Or what?”

Agatha sighed. “And you’ve been watching me, have you?”

You were. You were always watching her, even before, when she was your mentor officially, watching the hand movements, the way she countered spells, cast shields and blasted hexes and walked around with that impeccable, unflinching flair.

“I just wanna know why you’re so interested in him.” you murmured. “He’s just some kid, same as me, and I was here first.”

She paused, lips curving just a little bit upwards.

But she didn’t answer.

You sighed.

Looked down.

Took another breath.

“Okay, fine. Don’t tell me. Just-- why-- at least tell me why you’re acting like this? What id it, what did I do? Did I do something wrong, are you- are you mad at me?”

At that, her expression changed. It was almost imperceptible, but you caught it easily, a softer shift in her stoic exterior.

“No.” she said after a moment. Her voice was quiet. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You felt something deep inside your heart unwind, relief flowing through your veins, a hope growing brighter-- “Then why?” you uttered, your own voice quieter too, slightly uneven despite your attempts at keeping your composure.

“Because,” she sighed finally, turning back to look at you, “you weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to come with us.”

You frowned.

“What?”

She pressed her lips together, frustrated.

“None of this was supposed to happen, toots. No trials, no—” she gestured blindly around, annoyed, “middle-of-the-woods cabins and ghosts and—” she met your eyes, “no Road.”

You paused, not following.

“What do you mean no Road?”

“The Witches Road, it doesn’t exist.” she said.

You stared at her. Blinked. Still didn’t understand.

“But-- it does. It does exist- we’re on it, right now. We’re here-- this is real.”

“Yes.” she nodded, something darker in her eyes. “It’s real. And the question is, who made it real?”

You followed her gaze over to the others. Stopped. Finally understood.

“You think he made the road?”

She waited. “I had my suspicions from the start, but now I’m sure.”

“You’re sure.” you tried to read her thoughts and came up blank. “So he’s a powerful witch, you mean. Powerful enough to make all of this? You think he made-- everything around us, right now?”

She nodded, quiet, and turned to meet your eye, voice low.

“Yes. That much power in someone so young,” you swallowed down a sting of something unfair, “it’s a precious thing. Needs to be handled carefully, or else…”

“Now you’re saying he’s precious?”

“I’m saying his power is precious, and that’s really sweet actually.”

You frowned.

“How much you seem to care what I think about him. I never took you for the jealous type, pet, but here we are.”

“I’m not—” you swallowed. “jealous.”

She chuckled. “No. Of course not. You’re just worried your dear old mentor might’ve found a new favourite student.”

“I’m your only student. And he’s not-- Agatha—”

“It’s alright, pet.” she murmured. “You know you’ll always be my favourite.”

You died there, maybe. Those were the words you needed to hear, however pathetic, however needy, they made something settle inside of you, the frustration-turned-desperation melting to relief, to ease, and more hope.

You hugged her.

She wasn’t expecting it, not at all, and made out a slightly startled oof- as you wrapped your arms around her so tight, holding on for dear life, face tucked into her coat.

“Why does everything have to be filled with sentimental nonsense when it comes to you, hm?” she asked, but you already felt her arms coming up around you, hands that pulled so much life out of others smoothing over your back in a comforting gesture. You didn’t know for sure when the tears gathered in your eyes, but before you had a chance to stop them they were falling down your cheeks, and into the mess of her curled, dark hair. You sniffled.

She let out a sigh, as if this exhausted her to the utmost level, and ran her fingers through your tangled hair.

“There, there.” she said, a little awkwardly, voice laced with exasperation. “You’re okay.”

And you nodded, because she was right, you were okay, and you were fine--

“I thought you-” your breath hitched, “you might be mad at me for- for not coming back so soon- I was trying- I t-tried—”

She exhaled softly, a thousand heavy regrets in her heart, and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, darling.”

“But it does,” you insisted, “it does matter, I should’ve found a way-- and instead he—”

“He isn’t my favourite, only student, and he’s not my-”

“Your what?” you made out quietly.

“He’s not my anything.” she said. “You are.”

That was enough. Enough to ease your worries once and for all, all the untrue thoughts your mind had conjured up about you in the dead of night, that she might hate you, might not want you around anymore, that she found someone better- easier to teach, better at learning-

She pulled away from you with a quiet look, her eyes on you, studying your tearful face.

“What?” you murmured shakily.

“You really care, don’t you.”

“Of course I do-”

She turned away a little, only slightly, like she was maybe unsure if you should see. Her eyes were pale as always, blue and set like cloudy weather, and she had the look of someone so composed on the outside yet hiding a storm on the inside. That was most of her life, you realized at some point while staying with her before. Always so distant, yet so much emotion raging inside. You looked into her eyes and wondered if you were seeing a glimmer of regret. What she did to Alice was a reminder of who you were dealing with, that she wasn’t some friendly, smiling witch or sleepover buddy, but you weren’t about to turn your back on her like the rest of them. Not now. Not here. You might not agree with her morals, but this was something you knew when you begged her to let you join her. You knew what you were signing up for. Witchcraft wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows and Agatha Harkness wasn’t a cold-blooded psycho, not like everyone said or thought. You knew her. Deep down, quietly and from the sidelines, but you did. You believed that and you hoped she knew that too.

You wiped your eyes, quiet and careful, and stilled when she rose one hand and swiped off the liquid on your cheek with her thumb.

And you asked what kept lingering in the back of your mind since you all left the last trial.

“Agatha?”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

She tilted her head. “Asked you what?”

“To give you my magic. Juice you up, whatever you call it. I could’ve blasted you with it.”

She stilled just slightly, an almost-smile on her lips. “And you would’ve let me?”

“If you asked me, yes.”

“How do you know I just wouldn’t kill you?” she asked.

The truth was, you didn’t. You hoped she wouldn’t, but it was all a slippery slope. You did trust her. Not just a little. Maybe too much. You definitely believed her when she spoke about being on the Witches Road before. And you would’ve let her take some of your magic too. Naively, maybe, you also believed she wouldn’t have killed you. That maybe, somehow, she would’ve stopped just on the brink, and it would leave you slumped over and heaving and panting but alive. You were so close to stepping in when Alice did it first. Would it have been different if it had been you? Would you have saved a life, or exchanged it for your own?

Beside, quietly, Agatha said, “You don’t know what it’s like, dear. All that power, surging into you, it’s like breathing air after being underwater for too long. It’s all you need to do until you feel better. Until you catch your breath. Some could survive that. Some couldn’t. But Alice never stood a chance. And neither would you.”

That stung.

“You think we’re too weak?”

But Agatha shook her head, the look in her eyes almost remorseful. “No. Not that. But it was three long years. Anyone to blast me with even a spark of it was guaranteed to…” she stopped. “It’s not an easy thing, this.” she said, quietly. “Most days I love it. It’s saved me more times than I can count. But it’s not always the easiest to control. Do you think you could make yourself stop breathing the second you took that first breath of air after being down for so long? For three years?I’m glad it wasn’t you.” she said, and you were surprised to her the firm conviction of her tone, “I’m not glad it was her, but I’m glad it wasn’t you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—”

She didn’t finish her sentence. There was a gentleness in her gaze you oh so missed, that soft look she gave you after saying something far too soft and indulging you in it. Her hand gently fixed your hair, tucking away a strand gently behind your ear.

And you didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, looking at her, feeling like you might cry all over again.

“So we’re on the same team?” you murmured. “Not like, the coven, them, and you and me. I just mean, us.”

She smiled. A fragile, uncertain smile, but it was there. Guarded. Healing. Safe.

“You and me.” she said back, “I promise, kid.”

For a brief moment, neither of you said anything. You felt the moment settle. Dissolve.

“We should probably get back to the others.” she said. “The sooner we finish this thing the sooner we can get home.”

Home? You turned to look at her, but she was already strolling away, posture poised, head up, back straight, that blue coat flapping behind her like a loyal apprentice, instead of you. You watched her for a moment, walking with her back to you, no doubt rather unwelcome now with the rest of the group.

You couldn’t blame them.

But you shoved your own guilt over it down. Perhaps they’d hate you for it, but you’d stay on her side. Just like before, just like always. There were times when even people like Agatha needed someone in their corner, and you swore to yourself you’d stay though the worst of it, where so many others turned their backs on her and left.

And so, with a purposeful stride in your step, you turned away from the lake and followed her back to the others. There was another adventure to come.

A/n: this wasn't proofread, i'm sorry. title is from Diet Mountain Dew (The Flight Demo) by Lana Del Ray. send me your thoughts on agatha or anything else, I love to talk with yall!!! I had a lot of college exams these last few days and tomorrow I'll be 21 (I literally do not feel old enough) but life goes on and what can you do. Thank you for reading and I hope you're all good and have a wonderful day!

Taglist 💜 @milflovers4 @senhorita-girassol @dandelions4us @kaymariesworld @ahintofchaos @atlasimagines

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part Twenty-Three

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: None

A/N: Yall, been way too long but I've been busy moving I moved now but I've been busy unpacking and dealing with life and trying to make time for riding but I'm so tired at the end of the day and it's hard because I really wanna keep writing because my passion but yknow i'm just exhausted.

Were gonna be getting somewhere soon with this fic and wrapping up the story and maybe a little bit of spice 👀✨

Masterpost

----

The room feels unusually warm as the sunlight pours through the open window, casting long, slanted shadows across the wooden floor. You sit on the edge of the couch, your fingers anxiously tracing the fabric of your jeans. The quiet tick of the wall clock feels deafening in the stillness of the room.

Steve sits across from you, the weight of the years between you palpable in the way his shoulders tense under the weight of unspoken words. The last few months have been a blur of decision-making, a whirlwind of heartache and reflection. Now, sitting here in the house, you can feel the finality of everything that’s been building up.

Steve’s lawyer, a middle-aged woman with dark glasses and a stern expression, flips through a stack of papers on the coffee table. The air between you and Steve feels heavier than the formalities of divorce, each glance, each movement carrying a history, a shared life that no piece of paper could ever truly capture.

“I’ve spoken to my lawyer,” Steve says quietly, his voice breaking through the silence. “About the house, I mean, it’s yours if you want it.”

You look at him, the memory of every fight, every tear shared in that house echoing in your chest. Your heart aches at the thought of it, but you try to hold your ground.

“I don’t want it,” you reply softly, your voice steady despite the war raging inside you.

Steve’s eyes flicker with a mixture of regret and understanding, but he doesn’t push. “Should we sell it?” he asks, his voice quieter now. The question hangs in the air, heavy with years of memories.

“Where are you going to live?” you ask, your gaze drifting to the window, avoiding his eyes for fear of seeing too much of the man you once loved.

“I was thinking Boston,” he says, and the words catch you off guard. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as the reality of what he’s offering sinks in.

“Boston?” you echo, trying to find the words to make sense of it. “You’d do that for me?”

Steve’s expression softens, and for the first time in weeks, there’s a flicker of the man you used to know, the man who had always put you first, even when you didn’t ask him to. “I thought you’d know by now,” he says, voice rough. “I’d do anything for you.”

The room is so quiet, you can hear the faintest hum of the refrigerator in the corner. Your heart aches at the offer, the tenderness in his words, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough anymore. There’s too much pain, too many years of not seeing each other in the way you needed.

“Are you sure?” you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted you to make this sacrifice.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, his eyes distant for a moment before he meets your gaze again. “I need to move forward too,” he says, his words heavier than any argument. “I can’t keep staying here, in the past. We both deserve to start over.”

You nod, biting your lip to stop the tears. The decision feels like it’s being made for you, but deep down, you know this is how it has to be. There’s no going back.

The lawyer shifts in her seat, placing the papers neatly in front of both you and Steve, before her gaze flickers over to you. “So, the house,” she starts again, her tone matter-of-fact, “it seems you both have agreed on selling it. The next thing to settle is how to divide the assets.”

You take a slow breath, your fingers moving absently across the edge of the paper she slid towards you. It’s almost surreal, how quickly things are moving, how final this all feels. Steve, who once promised to build a future with you, now feels like a stranger across the table, though the love is still there in the quiet spaces between words.

“I don’t want anything extra,” you say, your voice steady, even though your chest aches. “We’ll just split what’s left from the sale of the house. Put it away for Lily,” you suggest, glancing at Steve. “For her future, for college, something.”

Steve’s expression softens, his eyes searching yours with that old tenderness that has always been there. “I agree,” he says quietly. “That seems like the right thing to do.”

The lawyer nods, but it’s clear her focus isn’t entirely on your decisions, it’s more on the technicalities, on what’s easiest to process. She jots something down on her legal pad, then moves on. “Alright, then. We’ll make sure that’s accounted for.”

The conversation moves forward in a blur who gets what from the furniture to the personal belongings, but you barely register any of it. All you can think of is Lily.

“And about custody…” The lawyer’s voice drops into a more formal tone. “I’d suggest full custody for Mr. Rogers. Given he is Lily’s biological father, it’s in the best interest of the child to stay with him primarily. An 80-20 arrangement sounds fair.”

The words feel like a slap, so sudden, so cold, and you can’t help the shock that floods your system. You shake your head, your heart pounding in your chest. “What? Wait…what?” You can’t keep the panic out of your voice. “Why would I only get her 20% of the time?” Your eyes flicker to Steve, who is staring at the lawyer in disbelief, but neither of you can find your voice for a long moment.

The lawyer, her demeanor impassive, turns her gaze toward Steve. “Mr. Rogers, as the biological father, you have the right to full custody. A 50-50 split might be acceptable, but with the current arrangement, it seems 80-20 is best for Lily.”

You feel your throat constrict, words hanging in the air between you like a weight. Biological father. That doesn’t define you as a parent, and it doesn’t mean Steve should take her away from you.

“She’s my daughter too,” you say, the words sharp and raw. You finally look at Steve for help, your heart pounding as the injustice of it settles into your bones. “You know that. I’ve raised her just as much as you have.”

Steve’s brow furrows deeply at the lawyer’s suggestion. He leans forward slightly, his voice firm as he speaks. “No,” he says, his tone unwavering. “That’s not how it’s going to be.” His hand reaches across the table, his fingers lightly brushing yours as he glances at you, offering the small reassurance you need. “We’re doing 50-50. Lily deserves that. We both deserve that.”

The lawyer glances at Steve, her expression momentarily calculating, before she exhales and straightens her papers. “Are you sure you want that, Mr. Rogers?” she asks, the doubt laced in her voice. “It’s not typical.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, I’m sure,” he replies, voice steady with conviction. “We’ll share custody. Lily should be able to spend equal time with both of us.”

The lawyer shrugs, not bothering to mask her disapproval. “Very well,” she mutters, scribbling something on her notepad. “I’ll draft the papers.”

There’s a silence that falls over the room again, thick with tension, as the lawyer moves on to other legal details. You’re still reeling from the custody suggestion, the sting of it settling like a rock in your stomach. You want to argue with her, demand that she see how much you’ve been there for Lily, how much you’ve been her mother in every sense of the word. You are her mother.

But before you can gather the words, the lawyer speaks again, her gaze shifting to you with a dismissive air. “One last thing, Ms. Y/N,” she says. “James….’Bucky’...is he stable enough for Lily to be around? I’m asking because he’s a veteran. If she’ll be around him, I need to know if there are any mental stability concerns.”

You freeze, your blood running cold. Your fingers grip the edge of the table, the questions crashing over you like waves. Is he stable enough for Lily? How dare she?

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop it, the words burst from you, your voice trembling with rage. “Are you kidding me?” You push back your chair, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re questioning Bucky’s stability because he’s a veteran?” The question feels like an accusation you can’t ignore. How dare she?

Steve immediately stands, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he moves to your side. His voice is calm, but his anger is clear. “That’s unnecessary,” he says firmly. “We’re not having that discussion.”

The lawyer looks momentarily taken aback, her eyes narrowing. “It’s standard procedure. If he’s going to be around Lily, I need to know if there are any concerns—”

Steve cuts her off, his jaw clenched. “It’s not standard procedure, and you’re not questioning someone like that. He’s stable, I trust Y/N.. There’s no need for this to be a part of the discussion.”

The lawyer purses her lips but finally nods, reluctantly marking something down. “I’ll make a note of it,” she mutters, almost as if she’s lost interest in arguing further. “I’ll finalize the custody agreement, and we can move forward.”

The tension in the room remains heavy, but Steve stays by your side, his presence grounding you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself after the emotional whirlwind of the meeting.

And as the lawyer gathers her papers and prepares to leave, Steve gently places his hand on your back. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft with concern. You nod, though your throat is tight.

“I will be,” you reply, your voice quiet but determined. “We both will.”

-----

The low thrum of music pulsed through the crowded house, colored lights flickering over worn-out couches and half-finished drinks. Wanda leaned against the wall near the back door, clutching a red solo cup she hadn’t touched in over an hour. She watched, heart aching in her chest, as Steve stood across the room laughing at something Natasha said, his whole face lighting up in a way that Wanda knew too well.

Natasha beamed at him, her hand brushing his forearm casually. The two of them were drawn together like magnets, and even though Wanda had prepared herself for this, for years, really..it still felt like a blow she hadn’t braced for hard enough.

“You’re real bad at hiding it, you know,” Clint’s voice cut through her thoughts, soft and not unkind. He nudged her shoulder gently with his own.

Wanda blinked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hiding what?”

Clint snorted under his breath, glancing across the room where Steve and Natasha stood in their own little world. “Come on, Wands. It’s me.”

Wanda looked down at her cup, twisting it between her fingers. “It wouldn’t matter anyway,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “He loves her.”

Clint was silent for a moment, then shifted so he was blocking her view of them, as if giving her a second to breathe. “You never told him, did you?”

Wanda shook her head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.” She managed a hollow laugh. “It was just… a crush.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, the kind of look that said you and I both know that’s a lie, but he didn’t call her on it. He sighed instead, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re too good sometimes, you know that?”

She shrugged, the motion feeling too heavy for her thin shoulders. “She’s my best friend and so is he,” she whispered. “What could I want more than to see them both happy?”

Clint hummed and just stood there with her, offering his presence in the quiet way only he could. No speeches, no false comforts. Just a shared, silent understanding. Clint tilted his head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get some air before you drown in here.”

Wanda smiled, small and grateful, letting him lead her outside into the cool night, away from the golden couple inside and the weight of a love she would never speak aloud, a love that would never be known.

--------

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the street as Steve walked, his footsteps slow, heavy, as if every step carried the weight of everything he was trying to outrun. The house…your house, his house, felt suffocating now. The walls that had once echoed with laughter, arguments, and shared memories now seemed to close in on him. He couldn’t stay there. Not anymore, not with everything unraveling so quickly.

Steve phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He needed air, space to breathe before he spiraled.

He found himself standing in front of Wanda’s apartment door before he even realized how he got there. He didn’t knock right away. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the door, as though it had a mind of its own.

Finally, with a quiet exhale, he raised his fist and knocked.

A few moments passed before the door cracked open. Wanda stood there, looking surprised, her eyes widening when she saw him. There was a softness in her gaze, a quiet understanding, but it was laced with something else. Something unspoken.

“Steve?” she asked, her voice soft, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can we talk?”

Wanda hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder as if she was wondering whether to let him in. After a brief pause, she stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

The apartment was warm, lived-in, and cozy. A stark contrast to the coldness he felt in his own life right now. He stepped inside, and Wanda closed the door behind him, the quiet click of the lock sounding louder than it should have.

They stood there in the entryway, an uncomfortable silence hanging between them. Wanda led him to the couch, where they both sat, not looking at each other at first.

“I didn’t want to be there,” Steve finally said, breaking the silence, his voice thick. “I didn’t want to be in that house anymore.”

Wanda nodded slowly, not needing to ask why. She already knew. She’d known for so long. “I understand,” she said quietly.

“We signed the papers today.” Steve said suddenly. “The house, we’re selling it, we’re doing 50/50 custody, we haven't talked logistics yet but Lily and I are gonna move to Boston, so Y/N can be home, so she can be with him.” Steve's voice cracked, his eyes watered, before pausing to take a deep breath. “Wanda… I—” Steve started, but words caught in his throat. He ran his hands over his face, frustrated. “I had no idea.”

She shifted slightly, “I’m so sorry Steve, I really am but…”, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze, her voice soft, but sharp, too. “You really had no idea?”

He exhaled a frustrated breath and shook his head. “I had a feeling. A hint, but I never… I never thought it was anything. Not enough to risk our friendship. Not enough to make things weird between us.”

Wanda let out a quiet laugh, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was almost bitter. “You really didn’t notice? All the times I held back because you were with Natasha? All the times I pushed you to go after her? All the times I welcomed y/n into my life, into our life, like she was just another person?”

Steve looked at her, regret clouding his expression. “I didn’t know, Wanda. I swear I didn’t. I was too focused on my own shit, on trying to get things right with Natasha… and then with Y/N and then him, and everything—”

Wanda’s voice cracked slightly, though she didn’t look away. “I didn’t want to make it harder for you. I’ve always been in the background, Steve. I’ve always been the one who picked you up when things went wrong, when Natasha didn’t understand, when everything was falling apart and I did it because I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Steve blinked, stunned by the confession. “Wanda…” His voice faltered for a moment. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why didn’t you ever just say it, it's me..”

She cut him off, shaking her head slowly. “Because I wanted you to be happy, Steve and Natasha made you happy. I could see that. I was fine being your friend. I was happy, just being your friend. But Clint…” Wanda’s voice wavered slightly. “Clint crossed the line, Steve. He knew. He could see it. He saw it before anyone else did.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. He had been blind to everything, hadn’t he? He could feel the weight of her words crashing down on him. “Clint’s been out of line for a while, he shouldn't have done or said half the things he has over the last couple years, losing Nat isn’t an excuse anymore.”

“I forgave him, we already talked.” Wanda exhaled sharply. “At your birthday party, when he…when he outed me. I never wanted anyone to know, I was happy in my bubble with just us two knowing but he knew how much I cared about you, and he couldn’t let it go especially with everything that has been happening with Y/N and how I had to listen to you vent about her, I just it's been so hard Steve…”

Steve’s head dropped into his hands, his heart aching with the weight of everything. He’d missed so much. So many things he should’ve known. “I never knew,” he whispered, the guilt washing over him. “I didn’t know how much you sacrificed.”

Wanda shook her head, her expression softening, though her heartache was still there. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said quietly. “We’re here, Steve and we’re both just trying to move forward, aren’t we?”

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, his voice raw. “I don’t want to lose you, Wanda. I never wanted to lose you.”

Wanda looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was steady but full of emotion. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’m not sure where we go from here.”

Steve sighed deeply. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Wanda. I don’t want to lose the only person who’s always had my back.”

Wanda turned to him then, her eyes soft with understanding. “You should know by now that you won’t lose me. You won’t ever lose me, even when everything else feels like it’s slipping away.”

Steve watched her, the truth of it settling in. She was always going to be there. Even if she never got what she secretly wanted, she was always gonna be a constant in his life, in his heart.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know. I just…” His voice trailed off, and for a moment, the silence between them was comfortable. Steve pulled her into a tight hug and they both just held each other for a while. Before Steve pulled away, “I’m glad you forgave Clint, I don’t know if I’m ready to.” His voice was soft, “Anyway, I need to go get Lily, Y/N and I are telling her everything tomorrow.”

Wanda nodded, “Let me know how it goes? Lily is tough like Nat, she’ll be fine.”

Steve nodded, turning toward the door, but then he stopped. Before he left, he turned back to Wanda, his voice soft. “For the record, Wanda… I felt the same way. I always have.”

The words hung in the air, tender and broken, before Steve opened the door and stepped out, leaving Wanda alone in the quiet of her apartment, a quiet that had never felt more final.

The door clicked shut, leaving only the sound of her breath.

-----

The house party is loud, the air thick with music and the hum of chatter. You’re leaning against the wall near the kitchen, a red cup of punch in your hand, watching your boyfriend, Jeremy, talk to his friends. He’s laughing, but you don’t hear the humor anymore. You just hear the whispers behind your back, the subtle glances from the guys as they eye you like you’re some kind of prize to be won and when one of them mutters something about you not being “pure,” you feel a sinking sensation in your stomach.

You try to ignore it, pretending like everything’s fine, but then Jeremy’s voice cuts through the noise, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I mean, she’s not a virgin, you know?” he says, chuckling like it’s no big deal. The other guys burst into laughter. You feel your face flush with embarrassment.

“What the hell did you just say?” you hear someone ask, and you don’t have to look to know who it is. You can hear the low, familiar growl in Bucky’s voice, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. You glance over and see him sitting on the couch, a couple of cheerleaders beside him, all leaning into him with flirty grins. But he’s not paying them attention. His eyes are locked on you, narrowed with concern, anger flashing across his features.

Jeremy shrugs, a smug smirk on his face. “I said, she’s no virgin. I bet even you didn’t know that. She’s a little slut, but hasn’t put out for me yet. I thought she was making me wait because she was one but apparently Lisa saw her and some dude doing the deed in a truck bed over the summer. But she’s gonna put out for me tonight, now thagI know her little secret, right babe?”

The words cut through you like a knife, and you feel the heat of shame rise to your cheeks, hot tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You want to run, to hide, but you can’t move. You’re frozen.

That’s when Bucky stands up. The girls at his side don’t matter anymore, the flirting forgotten as he brushes them off and strides toward you, his gaze unwavering. He’s done listening.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Bucky’s voice is low, but it’s the kind of low that makes the air heavy, the kind that makes everyone in the room stop and turn.

Jeremy laughs, a bitter sound that you can barely stomach. “I said she’s a slut, It’s no secret anymore, her fucks a guy in an ugly ass truck? A dirty little s l u t.” His voice is a taunt, but Bucky’s already stepping closer to him, fury simmering in his eyes.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Bucky snaps. His fist clenches at his side, and before you can say anything, he’s shoving Jeremy back with enough force to knock him off balance.

The laughter dies, but the tension in the room spikes. Jeremy, now pissed, swings at Bucky, landing a punch on his shoulder. Bucky doesn’t even flinch.

“Keep her name out of your mouth,” Bucky growls, and without another word, he’s launching forward, fists flying. The first punch catches Jeremy square in the jaw, sending him stumbling back, but he’s not done. Another guy, one of Jeremy’s friends, rushes to his side and lands a punch on Bucky’s cheek, but Bucky doesn’t back down.

He swings again, this time knocking the guy down onto the floor. The room erupts into chaos, but all you can see is Bucky, standing tall in the middle of it, a bloody lip and fury in his eyes. He doesn’t care about the rest of the party, about the way everyone is watching. All that matters is you.

“Bucky, stop!” you cry, rushing forward, but Bucky’s already pulled the other guy off him, throwing him to the side. His lip is split open, blood staining his teeth, but he’s standing there like nothing’s wrong. Like he would do it all over again for you.

“Let’s go,” he says, his voice quiet, rough. He doesn’t need to explain himself. He turns to walk out, pulling you with him, but you stop, glancing back at the chaos behind you. The party’s still going on, but it feels like a different world now, a world you don’t belong in anymore.

Bucky’s hand on your arm tightens, and he leads you outside, the cool night air hitting your skin like a slap of reality. You both make your way down the driveway, and once you’re out of sight, he pulls you into his arms, holding you like he never wants to let go.

“Are you okay?” His voice is low, but the concern in it hits you harder than anything else. He’s not worried about the fight, not about his lip or the blood on his knuckles. He’s worried about you.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, but it’s a lie. You’re not fine. Not when you hear Jeremy’s words echoing in your mind.

Bucky cups your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek, wiping away the first tear that slips down. “Don’t let them get to you,” he says, his voice firm. “You’re not what he said. You’re so much more.”

You lean into his touch, your breath catching as another tear slips free. You don’t even care. You’ve been holding it in for too long.

Bucky presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice barely a whisper. “I would do anything for you, you know that, right?”

You nod, the words too thick in your throat to say back to him. But you don’t need to say anything, you know.

Bucky swing’s his arm around your shoulder. “Alright let's get out of here and go hang out in my ugly ass truck.”

----

The house feels eerily quiet after Steve leaves, the sound of the door clicking shut still ringing in your ears. The weight of everything, of the divorce papers, of the house, of all the years that you spent wrapped up in the dreams you once shared with Steve hangs heavy in the air. But it’s different now…final. You take a slow, steadying breath, feeling the tears welling up, but you push them back.

You walk to the bedroom, opening the closet doors and pulling a duffel bag from the shelf. You try to keep your movements automatic, but the act of packing, of getting ready to leave the place that once felt like home, hits harder than you expect. You start with your essentials: a few changes of clothes, toiletries, anything that will help you get by for the next few days, maybe weeks. You pause for a moment, staring at the bag. This isn’t just a change of clothes. It’s your life, packed into something small, something portable.

You grab your phone off the bed and quickly dial your mom’s number, your fingers trembling a little. It rings a few times before she picks up.

“Hey, sweetie. How are you?”

“We signed the papers today,” you say softly, sitting on the bed, trying to steady your breath. “Everything’s done.”

Her voice softens, a touch of sadness in her words. “I know it’s hard, honey. But you’re strong. You always have been.”

You try to hold back the tears, but they slip out, anyway. You wipe your eyes quickly, feeling the rawness of it all. “It’s done,” you repeat. “But I don’t know what comes next. Steve’s willing to move to Boston. We both want a fresh start somewhere else.”

You hear her pause for a moment, then she says, “I’m glad you’re thinking of what’s best for you. Are you coming home?”

The words hit you unexpectedly, and for the first time since this whole ordeal started, something feels lighter. “Yes, I was hoping I could bring some of my stuff to your house. Just for a little while until I figure things out.”

“Of course you can, sweetheart. You don’t need to ask. I’ve always got a place for you.” Her voice is soft, loving, the kind of warmth you haven’t felt in a while. “You’ve got this, and I’m here for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you whisper, the words thick in your throat.

“Always,” she echoes. “Everything happens the way it’s supposed to happen, remember that sweetie. I love you.”

You choke back a sob, nodding even though she can’t see it. “I love you too.”

After a few more words of reassurance, you end the call, feeling the weight of everything slowly beginning to settle. You look at your phone for a moment before switching apps, hoping to start looking into moving companies, but then your messages catch your eye.

You see a text from Bucky, and when you open it, it’s a picture of the food he’s having, but it’s not just food. He’s made a smiley face with his French fries. You can’t help but laugh softly, the silly image lightening the mood for the first time today.

You glance at the clock, realizing it’s been more than an hour since he sent it. You smile, shaking your head at how he always manages to make you smile. You press his name to call him, and the phone rings for barely a second before he picks up.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets you, his voice warm, familiar.

You laugh, “Hey. So, the papers are signed.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “How do you feel?”

You exhale, looking around the room for a moment before speaking, your voice steady but emotional. “It’s sad. It hurts. But… I feel free. Like everything is falling into place, the way it always should’ve been. You know, I used to feel like there was this missing piece to my puzzle, and I just kept trying to make the pieces fit, but now it feels like everything’s shifting and I’m okay with that, I’m okay.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound grounding you. “I’m glad, sweetheart. Really glad.”

You take a deep breath and ask, “So what are you up to?”

“I just finished eating with Sam,” he says casually. “Just walking around now.”

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before speaking up. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go right now. Would it be okay if I stayed with you again? At the hotel?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, and then he responds, the warmth in his voice clear. “You don’t even have to ask. Meet me at that café from this morning.”

You smile, feeling that same sense of comfort you’ve always felt with him. “Okay.”

As you walk toward the café, you keep the phone pressed to your ear, and Bucky stays on the line and you tell him everything. “So what’s this about Boston?” he asks, curiosity in his tone.

You let out a breath. “Steve said he’s willing to move there. He wants to make it easier for me to start over and I think… I’m going to move back home for a while. Stay with my mom until I figure things out.”

There’s a brief silence on the other end of the phone, and you can almost hear the gears turning in Bucky’s mind, the way his words seem to hesitate before he speaks again. His voice softens, almost cautious, as if he’s searching for the right words. “And what’s that mean for you? Are you planning to stay with your mom for a while?”

You exhale slowly, nodding even though he can’t see it. It’s not a decision you’ve fully made, but it’s the one that feels most comforting right now. “Yeah, I think so. I don’t know yet,” you admit, your gaze drifting as you walk down the street, the rhythm of your footsteps matching the pace of your thoughts. “But it feels right, you know? At least until I figure things out. I don’t want to rush into anything that doesn’t feel like the right move. I just need some space to breathe and figure out what comes next.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can almost feel his presence, his attention on you even across the phone line. It’s one of those silences that feels heavy with meaning, as if he’s considering all that you’ve just said. “So, you’re moving back home?” His voice is quieter now, almost like he’s absorbing the weight of the decision you’ve made.

“Yeah, Buck. I’m moving home.” The words come out of you without hesitation, but a part of you still feels like the ground is shifting beneath your feet. You glance at the street signs as you pass, the familiar landmarks of your old neighborhood suddenly feeling foreign. “I think it’s the right thing to do. It feels like a fresh start. I just need time to figure things out, you know?”

As you round the corner, you spot Bucky up ahead, his silhouette outlined by the fading sunlight. The evening air is cool against your skin, and you hang up the phone just as you reach him. The moment your eyes meet, his smile hits you like a wave. It’s bright, genuine, and it instantly softens the knot of tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding. His cheeks are flushed from the walk, his face a picture of contentment.

You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a smile tug at your own lips. “What’s got you so happy?” The question comes out teasing, but there’s something in his expression that makes it feel more like you’re genuinely curious, like his happiness is something you can’t help but want to understand.

Bucky grins wider, a playful glint in his eye. “You,” he says, his voice light but with that familiar warmth. “You’re the only thing that can make my face as red as a tomato and make my cheeks hurt like this.” He’s still grinning, like the words are effortless, like they come naturally to him.

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through you. The sound is light, free, like you’ve exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. It’s so easy with him. He makes it easy to forget about everything else that’s weighing you down, even just for a moment.

You start walking together toward the hotel, side by side, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. You slip your hands into your jacket pockets, feeling the comfort of having him close. Your conversation flows easily, shifting from topic to topic without effort. You talk about the lawyer and the papers, about the future and the uncertainty that still hangs over everything. But there’s something comforting in the rhythm of your words, in the simplicity of it.

“So, when are you heading back home?” you ask, glancing at him as he presses the button for the crosswalk. His movements are familiar, easy, like he’s just there, a constant in your life.

“Um, in a few days, why?” he asks, glancing at you with a knowing look. “Everything okay?”

You nod, the words coming out a little more thought-out this time. “Would you mind taking a few boxes for me to my mom’s house?” You let the words hang in the air, not really needing to explain, but giving him enough to understand what you’re asking.

His brow furrows slightly, his expression softening as he looks at you. “You’re not coming back yet?” His voice is quiet, almost like he’s trying to gauge your response, but it doesn’t sound judgmental. Just curious.

You shake your head slowly, eyes on the sidewalk in front of you. “No. I’ve still got some stuff to finish up here. I’m hoping to get everything squared away before the end of the month.”

Bucky nods, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, of course,” he says, his voice steady and calm, with a hint of sadness.

“So, would you mind?” you ask, not needing to say it again, but wanting to hear him say it.

Bucky laughs, a low, warm sound that instantly puts you at ease. “Of course not,” he says, his voice teasing now, but the sincerity is still there, tucked into every word. “I’d do anything for you. You should know that by now.”

[flythesail]

The revolution aspect is so well done, but unfortunately, I just don't think Andor does a great job with its main characters. I would say Mon is the strongest character in that we know her personal life and see her as a catalyst with a direct influence on the plot. But as a senator, she's also inseparable from the plot in a way the other characters are not. I feel like they don't even know what to do with Cassian, Bix, or Vel. Which is just crazy to me because it seems so... simple?

Cassian is the guy committed to the rebellion. (Lol.) Give him an assignment and send him on a mission. Or, Bix is a mechanic. Give her something to fix. I believe this ties into something like Cinta's death as well. It felt insignificant. Which, I recognize as their intention. In a rebellion, lots of people die and won't be remembered.

But Rogue One struck a stronger balance between "these characters are nobodies to the rest of the galaxy" but somebody within the story being told. This is also why I don't love the choice to have someone else coin the phrase, "Rebellions are built on hope." Again, I get their point - the unknown people have a known impact. But after watching Cassian be sidelined and mischaracterized in his own show, it feels like one more thing being taken that always felt like his.

Thus far, Syril's death felt the strongest to me. There was plenty of buildup and development for his character prior. And maybe unsurprisingly? He was closely linked to the plot too. Much more than Cinta, who they barely bothered to put on screen this season. Even in killing Cinta to further Vel's storyline (a very poor choice - that's fridging), they've done nothing with Vel since. The plot is so much more impactful when equal effort is put into writing the characters. That's why Mon's speech and her mad dash from Coruscant was effective. In my opinion, it was the best part and arc of the season.

So I'm really not sure what they're getting at with a storyline like Bix and Cassian's. What is the takeaway? That he doesn't want to be a part of the rebellion. Groundbreaking stuff. It doesn't match Rogue One and feels sexist to use Bix as the woman who "turns Cassian into the man he was destined to be" when she's seen quite a bit of trauma and has a known skillset herself that could have resulted in an actual storyline of substance.

From the jungle oasis house to Bix waiting around like she can't even do anything without Cassian present, it's like... it doesn't even match the rest of the show - which is what, a political/spy thriller? For a show that prides itself in diving into the finer details of rebellion and the rough reality of it, there's no room for this little fancy house just outside of the rebel base where they're fighting an actual war. Reality versus impossible fantasy. Even if that is the point, that doesn't negate the fact it is so poorly written. Making Cassian the snarky, reluctant rebel who won't take an order has ruined any continuity coming into Rogue One for his characterization. Hey Tony Gilroy, haven't you heard he's been in the fight since he was six years old? The fix is so simple I could scream. Place these characters in the actual plot. The foundation was laid in season 1. Let them work.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Aww reading your feedback is always so wonderful my lovely friend!

Super Trouper has got to be one of my favorite ABBA songs- it was so fun to start listening to my ABBA playlist again when I was writing this little one shot 🥰

Lollll you got me from the jump, Lee! 🤣 Not the feather boas, not the butchering of Cindy Lauper, not Ben being all whiny and impatient already (but so totally on brand for him). You can tell he loves her fr fr though, because there's no effing way he'd be here unless his pregnant girlfriend was there. 😂💚

You're so right, Ben wouldn't be caught dead in a karaoke bar if the reader wasn't there. And if he wasn't with the reader and he happened to stumble into the bar, Ben would have one million percent been trying to get with the bride at her bachelorette party 🤣

Girl I see you with the SPN reference! 😏 That and --

See... it's funny because that was a complete accident LOL 😅 I literally am just obsessed with alliteration and I was like "huh what do you do at a karokee club?" "Sing." "Okay what is something that fits with sing?" But that is really funny that you pointed it out. 🤣

But I'm glad you liked the Carry On My Wayward Son reference! I was gonna put one of the men in a trench-coat and another one in the flannel but then that seemed like a little much 😅

I love that he painted the nursery while she was asleep. 😭 I love that he's sitting here in this karaoke bar, which is probably loud AF and potentially a bit "much" for him, and all he wants to do is treat his girl to a private show. 😏

I knowww! I was trying to think up gifts for him to give her, but we all know that Petals is more of a acts of service and quality time girlie, so it was nice to have him do a gesture like that for her birthday and forcing himself to sit there with her with all the screeching.... And of course the more *ahem* organic presents that he gave her 😉

"all he wants to do is treat his girl to a private show" 🤣 LOL, he is trying all his best lines and Petals is holding on to that last shred of control- especially with the pregnancy hormones bopping around in her system 😂

What a fun addition to Petals and Ben! Love getting more glimpses of their life together, piece by piece. 💚💚💚

Aww thank you so much Alex! It's always so nice to read your feedback my friend 💗 And it was so much fun to visit their story again and especially write something happy for them because the mini-series I have planned is... 😬

Cause Somewhere In The Crowd There's You

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Birthdays for you mean singing your heart out at the local Karaoke club. Unfortunately, your boyfriend doesn't mirror your enthusiasm. Is there any way you can convince him otherwise? This is a one-shot takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series!

Tropes: Established Relationship, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it) (Honestly I don't think it's that bad), Illusions to past sex, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Flirting, ABBA Music, Drinking, Teasing, Fluff, LOVE, Idiots in love and they don't care who knows it, Reader is pregnant (she doesn't drink). Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read: Super Trouper By ABBA - Title is taken from this song!

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I loved writing that one-shot last week for Easter so much that I had to write another little something-something for Petals and Ben! Plus it's kinda my birthday tomorrow (28th) and I was feeling the birthday fic 💗 I also really wanted to make a mood board 🤣

Reader POV

"I can’t believe this is what you wanted to do for your birthday." Ben groans into his whiskey glass as he takes a long sip and flinches at the off-key rendition of 'Girls Just Want to Have Fun' coming from the tipsy group of bridesmaids with matching bright pink boas on stage. The one in the front wearing a sash that says "Bride" in sparkly letters, sways precariously on a chunky teal heel while another steadies her with a claw-like hand with nails painted in shades of lavender.

Swan Song, the karaoke club that Annie and you had been coming to since you moved to NYC, is crowded for a Monday night. The familiar smell of stale smoke and the sour smell of alcohol mists out over the crowd, and a buzz of energy crackles in the air from people who wobble and bob their heads drunkenly to the music blasting from the giant eight foot tall speakers on both sides of the stage.

The two bartenders on the opposite side of the room listen to the orders shouted from patrons that lean over the bar to yell in their ears, before they craft multicolored drinks that bubble, boil, and glimmer in the fluorescent lights from the stage that dominates the front of the room. It's bathed in purple, pink, and blue strobe lights that pulse with the beat of the upbeat tune while shimmering lights flash out over the people sitting at the wooden tables jumbled together in the small room.

Swan Song was home.

It was the bar Annie and you went to together for the first birthday you spent in NYC. You'd gotten drunk on Endless Midnight Margaritas like Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock and sang a duet to "Angel Eyes." You were still a little fresh from your breakup with your ex, and after you found out he'd started dating another girl, that song seemed the most fitting.

And although the song changed from that first night Annie and you spent bathed in the pulsating glow of the strobe lights, the bar didn't. It was still a mish-mash of macabre and glitter. The walls and tables are still draped in black lace with vases of dead flowers on each table and the signature fluorescent swan in flight hangs proudly on the wall over the bar winking and sending the shimmering white light out into the room.

Well, the roses in the vase at your table had miraculously burst forth in deep red blooms, as had most of the flowers in the room as soon as you walked by, but you loved it here. It was weird and didn't try to hide what it was. All the drinks on the menu had something to do with the finality of death. From the Dead Man's Brew to the Haunting Hemlock Hue, the owner Jaz, had worked hard to make Swan Song deliciously unique.

"We do this every year Ben! It's fun!" You laugh beside him while taking a sip of your seltzer and bobbing your head along to the music.

It was a birthday tradition to spend the night drinking bottomless midnight margaritas and belt out ABBA classics while wearing matching bell bottom jean leotards that would make Donna and the Dynamos proud. Annie, Hughie, and you had done a Mamma Mia rewatch in preparation of your birthday two nights ago while Ben sat next to you on the couch and rolled his eyes.

He still wasn't sold on the whole ABBA thing, but you were making it your life's mission to convert him.

However, this birthday was just a little bit different than the others.

Despite your age today held a lot of firsts: your first birthday with Ben and your first birthday pregnant. Which meant that your jean leotard was tighter in some places than it had been last year, and you'd had to let it out. Also, the Lime- Slaughter Seltzer was an unfortunate substitute to the margaritas, but the little one wriggling and kicking in your stomach to the beat of the music was a welcome reminder of the life Ben and you were about to start together, one that you could spend curled up with him in the house he'd bought for you.

You smooth your left hand over your swelling belly with a faint smile noticing the way your engagement ring catches in the light of the bar. The twinkle of the vintage diamond is blinding, it's the same one Ben's mother wore. As if the hormones didn't make you cry enough when Ben proposed and bought you a house, the thought that it was his mother's ring made you cry so much that Ben thought that something was wrong. But you were just so happy you couldn't hold it in.

It had been a week since you moved into the house, one of the best weeks of your life. Ben had taken it off and when Butcher had asked him why he needed a whole week to move in, Ben had told him that one day wasn't enough time to christen every room in the house. Something that had made you blush to the roots of your hair and slap Ben on his muscular arm, while he tugged you into him and roamed his hands over your body as if you weren't standing in front of Butcher.

Your fiancé was practically a neanderthal and had a one track mind, but by now you found it charming- sometimes. His inability to have a single shred of shame had lead to a few embarrassing moments that you wished you could forget, but you couldn’t help it, especially now that you were pregnant. Before it had been difficult but manageable to resist Ben's charms, but now it was impossible.

It was like there was a giant neon sign hanging above your head that spelled out "horny" in multicolored lights, the same sign that only Ben was able to see for obvious reasons. Of course it did wonders for the plants that you'd hung inside the house, the ones that always seemed to be flowering and putting out so much fruit that you'd taken to giving some to your neighbors.

It might have also been an apology for the series of incidents that had happened outside and your elderly next door neighbors had been able to hear everything. The thought of what they heard still made your face flush so hot that you were sure you could make pancakes on your skin no problem.

Now you didn't worry so much about your neighbors. After they found out that you were pregnant and Ben and you were living together, they pretty much started ignoring you. Though you had found a few pamphlets shoved through the mail slot about the dangers of pre-martial sex.

I think it's a little late for that, don't you?

But despite Ben's comments to Butcher, the team, Jake, and his new girlfriend Nora, had been more than happy to help Ben and you move into your new home.

It took three days, all of which Ben made you sit in a chair in the air conditioning with a giant bottle of water and refused to let you lift a finger to help. Each time you tried to get up, Ben would miraculously appear like he'd been summoned from the depths of the sea and would strong arm you (gently) back into the chair while you watched everyone move in your stuff. You’d complained loudly that you weren't some invalid, you were just pregnant, but Ben didn't listen.

Shocker.

You smile and lean back in your chair, watching the group of women on stage dancing along to the tune of the song. The bride has begun to wobbles again on her heel, her face turning an unnatural green color before she bolts off stage in the direction of the bathroom.

Another one bites the dust.

Annie had vanished a few moments ago to sign the two of you up for your chosen tune of the night, fighting through the crowd of people pushing and shoving to get a chance at the sign up sheet.

Honestly, Annie going up there was purely for show. The owner, Jaz,  knew the two of you by name, in fact she'd mashed your and Annie's names together and named a margarita after you when she saw how often you came in. Jaz had waved to the two of you from behind the bar when you came in, and sent over a free round of the margaritas with your namesake to your table.

You’d eyed the bluish-green drink mournfully while sucking on a seltzer and trying not to regret the night Ben and you conceived the creature wriggling around happily in your stomach like a goldfish.

Ben grabs the seat of your chair, yanking it towards him while it screeches loudly across the concrete floor. He leans closer to you, knee brushing against your thigh, and his warm breath on the curve of your ear. "I can think of something else that's fun we could be doing to celebrate your birthday."

"Like bowling?" Your lips twitch into a knowing smile, not looking away from the stage. "Because when we're done here, there's a 24/7 bowling alley that has free pizza with each round of bowling purchased and it's so-"

Ben covers your mouth with his large hand. Your eyes snap to his. The wave of arousal that comes with the contact of Ben's rough skin against the soft flesh of your lips makes the gardenia in your hair grow another two blooms, sending the sweet smell wafting out from the delicate petals.

You watch the end of his lips pull into the familiar sinful smirk that does little to stop the wave of heat that travels through your body at Ben's touch.

Truth be told the moment you told your boyfriend that Annie was throwing you a birthday party at a Karaoke bar, he'd looked at you like you had three heads. And after you explained to him that it was in fact still something that existed and that it would be fun, he had spent the entire morning trying to convince you to spend your birthday in bed with him. It was difficult to leave the house, but it was a tradition and you wanted Ben to be apart of it.

"Petals, Why would you wanna be screaming out some song lyrics when you could be screaming my name instead?” Ben purrs moving his other hand down to your hip, softly stroking one finger along your waist.

“Ben-“ You mumble into his hand with a soft sigh, squirming in the seat.

The pleasurable feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever your fiancé teased you began to stir, sending a warm tingle down your spine.

Damn it. He won't win this.

"Come on sweetheart." He rumbles, pressing a kiss to the pulse point at your neck that makes you shudder and fist your hand around his knee beneath the table. "I wasn't done giving you your birthday present when you dragged me here." His hand travels down your side to your hip, pulling you up out of your chair and into his lap. You gasp as you fall into his strong muscular body, automatically bringing your hands up to grip his shoulders in surprise. "And I'd very much like to continue what I started." Ben removes the hand around your mouth so he can kiss you languidly, rolling his tongue into your mouth.

The scratch of his stubble against your cheeks, the warm feeling of his solid body beneath you, and the gentle but firm squeeze of his hands on your hips makes you melt into his chest. Sometimes it surprised you that after all this time, kissing Ben still felt the same way. You still had the prickle of goosebumps ghost over your arms, still felt your heart heat so hot it felt like it was going to burn through flesh and sinew, and still felt like the way you had the first time Ben kissed you at Vought tower, like two worlds were colliding and everything you were was crashing and molding together with everything he was.

"I think you gave me a few today-" You breath against his lips with a smile.

The memory of the many, many presents Ben had given you since you woke up this morning made your throat tighten. Ben was generous when it came to sex anyway, but this morning he had left you breathless and unable to feel your legs for most of the day.

By now Ben was getting more comfortable with the idea that you didn't want him to spend hundreds of dollars on a gift and you just wanted to spend time with him. But that hadn't stopped him from painting the nursery when you were asleep last night. You'd been trying to find the time to paint it all week, because you wanted to try and find a crib and shelves, but each time you tried something dragged you away.

Usually Ben.

But he'd done it without complaining, which was a surprise. There was still some of the sage colored paint flecked on his forearms and hands, and there was a paint smeared t-shirt and pair of jeans on the floor of your bathroom that Ben never picked up and you might have yelled at him about before he showed you what he'd done and you forgot all about being mad.

Well… only a little.

But it was such a sweet gesture, and the perfect birthday gift.

Ben's mouth twitches again into the mischievous smirk that you love so much as his hands tighten on your waist. “You complaining?”

“No, never.” You shake your head so enthusiastically, it makes Ben chuckle low under his breath, the rumble of his laugh vibrating up where your chest is pressed against yours.

“Then why don’t we go back to the house and you can spend your birthday the way God intended, in your birthday suit.”

You roll your eyes at him, but thread your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck tugging lightly. It was getting a little bit long. Ben kept saying that he wanted to get it cut, but then never did.

Secretly you were hoping that he didn't. You liked to feel the strands fall through your fingertips when the two of you were watching a movie and Ben leaned towards you and let you gently stroke his hair while he groaned softly under his breath, or when you woke up before him in the morning and his hair fell forward into his sleeping face making him look years younger.

“Didn’t think you were religious type." You say with a smile of your own.

"Really? Huh. Guess I just like to worship you doll." Ben mumbles into your throat, sucking a mark into your neck next to the one that he left this morning.

"Ben-" His name comes out of your mouth in a breathy moan, that only makes Ben growl into your warm skin. Your fingers tighten in his hair.

Maybe I could let him win, just this once…

“Love is beautiful no?” Frenchie sighs from where he sits across the table from you throwing his arm around Kimiko and pulling her closer to his chest. She smiles as Frenchie presses a kiss into the top of her head.

“No. Not from where I’m sitting.” MM grouses from his chair across from Ben and you. His large arms are crossed over his chest, beer bottle untouched where it stands on the table, condensation pooling around the bottom.

"Me either." Hughie echoes, shifting uncomfortably.

“Lighten up mate. Could be worse. We could be watching a geriatric suck on his girlfriend's neck. Oh wait." Butcher snorts into his whiskey glass.

You aim a well placed kick at Butcher's ankle, that only makes him laugh harder.

 "What’s the worst that can happen? She gets pregnant?" Frenchie crows out a laugh at his own joke. "I think that ship has sailed."

"More like sunk." MM flexes his biceps.

Ben and him still had a long way to go before they could be friends. It was a difficult situation, but the fact that MM came tonight was progress. Maybe. There was still a lot of glaring going on, but that was to be expected and you didn't blame MM for that.

Ben narrows his eyes in MM's direction, but when he opens his mouth up to speak, you shut him up by placing a tentative kiss to the tip of his nose. Ben's gaze flashes to you, still heated, frown more pronounced.

"Ben-" You warn in a whisper.

"He started it." Ben grumbles.

"Ben." You say again, this time gently running your fingertips through the hair at the nape of his neck with a soft sigh.

"I fucking know." He rolls his eyes, but you feel his hand go protectively to your stomach. Ben's thumb strokes, once, twice, over the swelling curve more for himself than for you, but it made you smile and lean into his embrace.

Sometimes you would have what you liked to consider a "freak out" in which you'd suddenly remember that you were pregnant and engaged and also didn't know what the hell you were doing.

That last part was pretty normal for you, but the first two were not.

But it was moments like this where you were reminded that you weren't alone and Ben wasn't going anywhere. His constant watch and his constant reassuring appearance in your life proved that. You knew that he wasn’t going to leave you and you trusted him with everything you had.

You also trusted that your grandmother would show up and beat Ben into a pulp with a frying pain in a showdown that would rival the WWE if he ever, ever, broke your heart. Ben told you that when he asked her if he could marry you, she'd made a few threats that weren't worth repeating.

She'd called this morning to see if you'd gotten her gift, a hand quilted baby blanket made up in the dark greens and sage that you had chosen for your nursery. You hadn't needed to tell her what colors you were using, she'd "seen it" in her own special way.

Annie reappears, her blonde hair like a beacon in the dusky bar. "Okay we're up next. What did I miss?"

"You don't want to know." Hughie groans and sends his girlfriend a tight smile.

“Oh I think I can imagine.” Annie makes kissy noises and faces at you. “Guess they’re really trying for twins huh?”

Frenchie laughs, and this time it's enough to make MM crack a smile.

“Just because I’m pregnant  does not mean that I am incapable of making a tree full of angry squirrels chase you down the block.” You huff, pointing a finger at your best friend. “And need I mention why Ben had to call the power company last week when you two stayed over and we suddenly had to use our emergency generator?”

Hughie turns bright pink.

"Oh please. As if Hughie and I couldn't hear exactly what Ben and you were doing." She rolls her eyes.

"I don't know what you're referring to." You reply, suddenly becoming more interested in the next group of men all drunkenly singing 'Carry On My Wayward Son.'

"Don't be shy Petals." Ben replies squeezing your hips before throwing a pointed look at Hughie. "Maybe he'll learn something about making love to his girlfriend. Besides it's our house and I'm not gonna tell you to keep quiet, not when you make all those pretty sounds when I'm-"

"Ben!" You cover his mouth with your hand, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Remember we had the conversation about things we don't say in front of other people?"

"Yes, but I don't fucking care." Ben shrugs, gently pulling your hand from his mouth. "Nobody's gonna shame me out of fucking my girl. Not when you're always so we-"

You cover his mouth again, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed. "Ben, please."

I'd be mad if I wasn't so damn hormonal right now.

He doesn't look ashamed, and you don't expect him to be. In fact there's a triumphant gleam in his eyes that you're sure means that he knows you secretly love it.

"There are so many things I wish I didn't know." MM mutters under his breath.

"Me too mate." Butcher grunts, slapping him on the back.

Annie only rolls her eyes at Ben and makes a gagging noise. "What do you think about our competition?" Annie jerks her thumb in the direction of the men on stage finishing up.

One of them stumbles to the right of the stage and takes a flying leap off into the crowd to body surf, but lands in a loud thud on the wooden floor.

"No contest. We've got this." You give her a thumbs up.

Despite doing this before, you were just a little bit nervous. The haze of alcohol from the margaritas usually did wonders to soothe your nerves, but all the seltzer did was exacerbate the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach like a witch's cauldron.

As Jaz comes up to announce Annie and your names, you slowly rise to your feet, feeling Ben's eyes on you. Annie takes a long sip from her margarita while you poke your straw around in the bottom of your seltzer as if hoping it'll miraculously turn to wine.

But as you turn your way to the stage, Ben's hand comes out in a flash, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him so suddenly you don't have time to register that Ben is kissing you.

"You've got this Petals." Ben breathes before he brings you back for a searing kiss. "Make me proud sweetheart. And after you fucking knock 'em dead I'll take you home and we can celebrate your birthday the old fashioned way." His hand runs down to give your ass an encouraging squeeze.

The nerves are gone, evaporated in the subtle scratch of Ben's beard and his encouraging words vibrating through your chest, and filling you with confidence.

Other people may have believed that Ben was just a dick with no care in the world, who couldn't love or care about someone else because he only cared about himself, but not you. He was your Ben. He was yours. You knew who he was deep down, saw all the pieces of him that he'd hidden away for years, the same pieces he'd tried to hide from you when you first met because he thought that it was what he had to do. Little by little you were proving to him that you loved him anyway, that love to you meant falling for someone and loving all the darkest parts.

And it was moments like this that only reinforced what you already knew about the man you'd fallen in love, that despite all his flaws, Ben loved you. That the same parts of yourself that you'd hidden away your whole life he accepted.

And yes, maybe Ben didn’t want to spend his day off in a karaoke bar drinking fruity drinks and listening to people ruin hit songs, but if it made you happy Ben would do it, because there was not one thing he wouldn't do for you.

Annie pulls you away from him towards the stage, and you're sure that you have a ridiculous smile on your face as the beginning notes to 'Super Trouper' start to blast from the speakers, but you can't find it in yourself to care or look away from the man who has your whole heart.

And after the song, when you blow out the birthday candles on the ridiculously large birthday cake covered in iced flowers and leaves with Ben's arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head on your shoulder, while you feel the subtle kick of Ben and your love growing in your belly, and see the glint of the ring on your finger catch in the light, you can't find yourself thinking of anything to wish for, because you already have everything. Not when somewhere in the crowd there's Ben, cheering you on, and you wouldn't trade a single second of it for anything else.

A/N: See, just something cute and happy for Petals and Ben. After everything they deserve a nice break. 🥰

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

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@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

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@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

[alexanderlightweight]

hello! I returned to tumblr after 7+ years so I could come read every fic you have written here. I LOVE your writing. The style, the characterizations, the word building, etc.

could I request either:

-star eater young Alec and how the shadows interact with him. Is it a type of resonance of a feeling or what do you envision

-another installment of an extension of you. Think that’s the name where the downworlders are beginning to interact with Alec because of his connection with Magnus and they’re finding out he isn’t so bad?

thank you for everything you write. I will devour each word whatever verse it’s for!

I hope you are having a good day and give nightshade some kisses and snuggles!🥰

wow I am so delighted and thank you for coming back to read the fics! I hope you enjoy the abyss of words <3. these compliments are really sweet and making me grin at the computer and also like, want to hide. not in a bad way in an 'omg compliments' and happy overwhelmed turtle kind of way. while i'm turtling i'm also flapping my hands so its definitely a good thing.

i went with star eater and that's a part I posted earlier because I am trying to make sure I explore the powers in that fic a bit more so it's been on my mind and I hope you enjoy this

i am having a good day btw and I hope you are having a good day too! nightshade loved the kisses and snuggles and I need to inform you he gave happy snort/snuffles back. he sounds like a truffle hunting pig when he's happy.

<3 lumine

star eater

Alec steps into the darkness as if he’s greeting an old friend and no matter how many times Maryse sees it, it sends a shudder down her spine all the same.

Her heir is tall now.

He’s still growing but already he’s taller than her, his lanky form slowly solidifying so that he no longer looks like he’ll slip into the shadows for good.

Alec’s strong and powerful and every hint of softness is being slowly chiseled away until his solemn facade is as steady as a glacier.

Maryse has only asked about the depth of the shadows a few times, it unsettles her despite the fact that she thinks herself weak for being frightened of the power in her own blood.

The shadows can tell. They have a strange understanding of the world.  More hive minded than individualistic yet still separate from Alec.

Ravenous too, though Alec hides their hungry maw and unending greed with stoicism well enough.

—-

Alec ignores the bite of hunger that gnaws at his spine. 

There are only so many things he can steal or kill for before someone notices and while Ragnor feeds Alec plenty of information — in return for some of the bounty harvested, it never seems enough.

There’s never a true, concrete thought that is shared with him.

The shadows are more emotions than thought. They don’t speak so much as they commune with him. A hive mind whose hunger stokes his own and Alec has forgotten what fear is, in the embrace of utter darkness.

They share information with him. Images and feelings that merge with his own until Alec sometimes isn’t sure who first had a thought. Yet they’re separate still, with their own desires and agendas.

Alec is fine with the power he has but they are never satiated, always encouraging him to grow and consume. They want him to grow too large to be consumed in turn and his instincts are fine-tuned, delicate strings that cross the boundary to the inhuman.

After all, you can only stare into the abyss so long before the abyss stares back and you realize you’re looking into a mirror.

Alec doesn’t avoid mirrors but he doesn’t need them. Yet another doorway to walk through and multiply the shadows around him, a powerful tool but more of a distraction than an aid when he gets ready.

It’s the shadows that dry his hair and pick his clothes, knowing exactly the fabrics to pick that fit Alec’s moods. The shadows that button his shirt while Alec’s still cataloging the schedule of his day and the shadows that lace his boots as Alec double checks and tightens the straps of his permanent weapons.

-

AN:

Magnus and alec’s shadows are going to fight about who gets to pick him out clothes at some point, yet. Eventually i think they’ll call a truce since they’re good at textures but pretty bland at fashion

The shadows are pretty much pure, ravenous and sentient but not necessarily sapient raw power. However as an eldritch entity they also border the lines a bit more.

[mayaree-darling]

can you write me a claude fic? pwetttyy pleaseee beshiiiieeee 🥺HAHAHAHAHA

i need one im begging on my knees pleaaaseeeee 🫴

~ your lovely bestiee 🥰

all these (stupid) little things // claude de alger obelia

Pairing: Claude x Reader (ft. Toddler Athy and Felix)

synopsis: surely claude can enjoy some peace and quiet, right? surely nothing stupid will happen, right?

from mayaree: witch. you know i cant say no to u right now. hayyyssss 😒 everyone else can consider this my break time (who knew 32k words could be so taxing omg)

content: stupid fluff; toddler!athy coz she was so cute; no need to think about what point in the story this was: you guys are just a happy family and claude is still emotionally bankrupt

word count: 2k~

The breeze that came in through the window was warm. Maybe summer was rolling in quite early. Nearby trees tapped at the walls where it could hit, but it wasnt screeching to the ears. A part of him thinks they could be rain, but that would be stupid with all the sunlight pouring into his office and the heat coming in through his window. The muffled quiet was starting to get to him. He could feel his eyes getting heavier.

Claude never used to notice little things like this. It was always the pain in his chest that would never go away. The heaviness in his bones that never seemed to want to go away. And despite everything he did, there were also the thoughts that always seemed to stay. The things he noticed were all trapped in a mortal body and it was taking its toll on him.

Well, at least it used to.

Now, because of two little idiots who wormed their way into his life, he was thinking all these stupid thoughts, muffling everything else he felt and thought of. Noticing too many things. All of them so... stupid. Although he wouldn't so brazenly say it to the two idiots. Or maybe he should.

Another breeze passes by. His pen had stopped scratching on the document in front of him and was now making a large blotch on the paper. His eyes are closing.

"Claude!" "Papa!"

Ah. Speaking of those two idiots who wormed their way into his heart.

He pulls the pen away from the document - it was completely ruined, the ink gone and went tore right through it - and set it aside. He was completely awake now, hands coming up to rub at crystal eyes. Oh. In hindsight, you would get angry at him for doing that now that he thought about it.

Too late now.

The door all but bursts open as you and Athanasia make your way in. Felix, ever the dutiful soldier - to you and Athy now apparently, not Claude's - follows in your wake, a sheepish smile on his face as Claude glares at him. When his eyes turn to you and Athy, his face goes back to being blank, only a subtle softness to them almost none could have noticed. However, Felix picked up on it immediately, and assumed to stand behind Claude in the pretext of standing behind his superior; truthfully, he needed to hide his knowing smile lest he get another glare.

"What do the two of you want now?" he takes another piece of paper from the pile and starts working on it. Well at least now that he had that two of you around, he won't fall asleep. He starts working on it again.

From his peripheral, he sees you and Athanasia hesitate. You and the smaller girl share a look, suddenly the two of you were at a loss for words.

"Give us a minute."

To his surprise he watches as you both walk farther away from his desk and lean towards each other to share conspiratorial whispers.

"Mommy are we sure?"

"I'm not gonna lie, Athy, I'm starting to wonder about that, too."

"Maybe we shouldn't ask Papa."

"Yeah, I'm starting to think this was a bad decision."

"Yes, it's rather late to back out now," Claude doesn't even look up from his papers. "You barged into my office and now you're whispering to each other like I can't hear you."

A shiver crawls down both of your spines. You and Athy stand up straight, turning back to Claude with frozen smiles. He casts a lingering glance at the both of you, crystal eyes almost glowing, challenging. "If the two of you don't come closer, then you won't mind if I come and join you there, right?"

Athy hides behind you and almost to put the final nail into your coffin, she pushes you forward softly.

"Good luck, Mommy. Love you." Claude hears her whisper. Well, the first lamb was finally sent to the slaughter.

You suck in a breath and look at everything in the room except for him. "Ah. Well. Athy and I were just wondering. This is all hypothetical of course, so we were just curious-"

Not able to stand the tension, Athy pokes her head from behind you. "Would Papa still love Athy and Mommy if we were worms?" She waits for his answer patiently.

The silence was deafening in the room. Felix makes the mistake of letting out a muffled snort, but Claude is so surprised he doesn't even have the time to tell him off.

Apparently "wormed" their way in was far too appropriate a term.

Claude blinks. Once. Twice. Maybe the warm summer air really did get to him and he was dreaming. It would be a nonsensical one, and truthfully he hasn't had a dream in a while, but it would explain the absurdity of it all. But alas. He was very much awake and the two idiots had somehow found a way to be more idiotic.

"What do you mean by... worm?" He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He knew in his bones he wasn't going to like this conversation.

You roll your eyes and stop beating around the bush. With renewed confidence, you motion to Felix to help you move two chairs in front of Claude's table. Claude's frown twitches. Maybe it wasn't too late to pretend he was focusing on the papers after all. Maybe it would send the message that he didn't want to listen any further. "Don't pretend like you didn't just hear what I said, Your Majesty"

Or maybe it won't be too late to give the both of you back to where you came from.

...

On second thought, maybe just sending you back to your rooms would suffice.

"What do the both of you mean with... worm...?" he speaks slowly, purposefully. He hopes - wishes, at this point - that you would get the subtle threat underneath his voice if this conversation would carry on. However, you completely ignore it and turn to Athy with a pleasant smile.

"Athy, explain to your father what we meant by worm," your smile brightens impossibly more. In any normal - or as normal as it could be, considering it's you - circumstance, he would find himself staring, refusing to admit that he was admiring it. But right now he was finding it very hard to keep up with the ride of emotions he was currently experiencing for him to look at your smile.

Athy gapes at you for a second, giving Claude one terrified look - Claude returns it with a scowl - but she pushes through and he can only sigh more. Finally, Athy holds out her pointer finger and wiggles it like an incoming wave over and over again. "Like that."

"See? A worm." you turn back to Claude with a grin, not even trying to mask the mischief. "So, going back to our question."

Athy taps at her chin, gaining more confidence with you around. "Would you put Athy on a pillow and feed her desserts?"

"Why would I do that? What a waste of a good pillow." Claude sighs. "And what worm eats desserts?"

"Athy would!"

"Then would you put us in a pretty garden?" you ask, enjoying the conversation to your heart's content and ignoring your significant other's glare that was trying to pierce through you. Unfortunately, being in a relationship with said significant other had taught you to be as tough as nails once you started.

Claude closes his eyes, seemingly in pain. This talk was dealing him psychological damage more than necessary. "Let me rephrase my answer from earlier then. You'd eat too much."

"Papa can put us in a jar and make sure we have food!" Athy proposes, and you nod your head in agreement.

"Oh that would be nice! You can even put a bow around the jar so it would still look cute and homely." You smile serenely at the idea.

Claude goes back to his documents. He needed to block you out. Soon. Please. "I won't even put holes on the lid."

"Then we'd die, Claude." You sigh like it's the most obvious thing in the world. There's a pause and you blink in realization. "Oh. Anyway. What if you just-"

Claude puts his pen down. "Stop. Do you really want to know my answer? My true answer?"

You and Athy share excited grins before turning to him and nodding hurriedly.

"I would hate you both." He says calmly. "I'd throw you out the first chance I got. Call an exterminator. Fire the gardener while I'm at it for letting you into the palace, too."

You and Athy give out a sharp dramatic gasp at the same time, offended looks painted on your faces. Claude only offers a scoff. "I've been trying to give you hints this entire time and you missed almost all of them. Surely you don't expect me to take care of a couple of worms. I already can't handle you both as is."

It's your turn to scoff and you turn your head away from Claude like he was suddenly the worm. You hold out a hand to the young girl beside you. "Athy, come on, we're going on a picnic and he's not invited."

Athy gives quick nods of agreement, head turned away from Claude as well with wounded pride. Claude sighs. The both of you were so dramatic. He watches as you stand and head to the door before Athanasia stops and looks up at you.

"Can Felix come?" But Athy is already beckoning for the knight to come along.

You blink in realization and turn and beckon for him as well. "Yes, you're very invited to join us if you want, Felix."

"Oh, uh, well-" Felix could feel the tension from Claude, his superior giving him a quick glare in warning.

"You. Stand at the very back of the room." Claude doesn't look at you or Athanasia as you both whine at his orders, but he sighs again. He remembered Felix wasn't his knight anymore. "Keep 10 paces away from them."

"Yep. Understood." Felix stiffly walks closer to you and Athy, keeping a safe distance.

"Athy will save you a cupcake!"

Felix laughs hesitantly, "Thank you, princess."

"Don't save one for His Majesty. That's what he gets for not taking care of us if we were worms." You stick your tongue out at Claude, no matter how childish the action was.

"Right! No cupcakes for Papa!" Athy proclaims, and when she catches Claude's eyes on her again, she hides behind you once more as a shield.

Claude watches as you walk hand in smaller hand with Athy, exiting the room with Felix in tow. You order the knight not to close the door out of pettiness ("Let him get up and close it himself." Felix chokes but when Claude doesn't say anything, he follows your orders with a sheepish laugh.)

Claude hears you and Athy talk excitedly about what tea would match better with the desserts you were going to bring. He listened and waited for the footsteps to walk farther and farther away before letting out a breath.

His picks up his pen again, scratching away at the paper.

The breeze was warm. The sun shone high over head, but he knew that you would place yourselves underneath the larger trees in the garden, somewhere with lots of shade but just enough sunlight to break through the foliage. You'd eat through a concerning amount of dessert provided by the kitchen, readily made to accommodate Athanasia's sweet tooth. You'd have meaningless conversations that would go wherever, and come up with more stupid questions to ask him. Claude can already hear the sound of your laughter at the mere thought of it. He blinks. Did he actually hear you? He must be getting tired. Should he close the windows?

His pen scratches at the paper a few more lines. The breeze was warm, becoming stifling so. He sighs.

Claude stands up and only takes a minute to decide whether to clean up the papers or bring them with him so he had a proper excuse. But of course he didn't need an excuse.

Maybe he could pay his two little worms a visit.

✨ Masterlist ✨ KOFI/Commissions

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[forest-hashira]

Make It Right

me? branching out from animanga? it's more likely than you think lol. anyways, i'm finally dipping my toes into the arcane fandom. please be nice to me i am just a scared little baby deer. also, for the full experience, know that i listened to "the final fight" by conan gray on loop while writing this fic. do with that what you will.

read on ao3 | wc: 6.6k | pairing: viktor x reader | cw: gn reader, modern/college au, alcohol consumption, first kisses, breakup, exes to lovers (mostly), implied ace4ace relationship (reader & vik), caitvi wedding, i think that's it

One of these days you were going to learn to be more selfish. Today, unfortunately, was not that day. It was hard to be selfish when it came to your best friend’s wedding, after all. 

You’d gone along on all of the errands Cait had asked you to attend with her – sometimes in Vi’s stead, sometimes to act as a mediator if they butted heads over any details about the decorations, or cake flavor, or catering, or anything else. Even if preventing them from having arguments got tiring after a while, you were more than happy to oblige; you were good friends with both of them, and you wanted both of them to be happy on their big day.

Besides, it was the least you could do after putting your foot down about being Cait’s maid of honor. She’d been a bit disappointed, but she’d understood. Thankfully, Jayce had been ecstatic when she asked him to be her man of honor – he’d beamed about it for days, and none of the teasing he received about it was enough to dampen his mood.

Not that you saw much of Jayce these days. You were still friends with him, of course, because you were in the same friend groups, but you rarely sought out his company anymore. He hadn’t wronged you at all, but it was hard to be around him without being reminded of how horribly your relationship with his best friend – and roommate – had ended.

You’d met Viktor your freshman year of university, when he’d been assigned as your lab partner in your one required science credit course for your degree. You’d picked the class because the professor had a better student rating than any of your other options, but the subject matter was much harder than you’d anticipated. 

Though he was a bit awkward, Viktor had been kind when you’d asked him for help – he was your lab partner, after all, so part of his grade was riding on your ability to understand and do the work, too. Over the course of the semester, the two of you spent several hours together on four days of the week: two days were the actual class and lab, and the other two days were spent studying, though those study days felt more like tutoring sessions for you. 

Unsurprisingly, you got along really well with him; his dry, sarcastic humor always made you laugh, and his mastery of all things relating to his degree was nothing short of fascinating to you. To your surprise, he seemed to like your company, too. He asked about your day when you saw him, and though he didn’t seem to care much for anyone else, he always listened when you’d talk about your friends. 

When the semester ended, and you finished the class with a ‘B-,’ you invited Viktor to celebrate with you and your friends. He’d agreed after you promised it wouldn’t be anything crazy, just a small party at your friend Cait’s house. 

“Her parents are stupid rich,” you told him. “Her mom’s some sort of diplomat, so they’re out of town for a conference for the next week. Cait invited some of us over to celebrate the end of the semester.”

“How many people is she inviting?” Viktor asked, and though he was good at hiding it, it wasn’t all that difficult for you to pick up on the fact that he was nervous.

“Not many,” you assured him, “She’s not an extremely social person to begin with, honestly. It’ll be her, Vi – who Cait insists she doesn’t have a thing for, but she totally does, we can all see it – Vi’s younger sister Powder, Powder’s friend Ekko, Jayce – who’s been friends with Cait since they were in middle school – me, and if you come, you! So that’s…” You trailed off for a moment, counting on your fingers. “Seven, including you and me. That’s not so bad, right?”

Viktor still seemed unconvinced, but he hadn’t outright said no, either. After a moment, you remembered something else you thought might tempt him, and you perked up.

“Oh! I’m pretty sure Jayce is in the same program you are! Or at least one really similar to it. Something to do with engineering, I think? He’s only told me once so I’m not remembering exactly what it was he told me he’s studying. But I think the two of you would really get along!”

There was a long moment of silence after you spoke, Viktor’s expression completely unchanged. You decided to throw out one more thing to try and tempt him to join you. 

“Please, Vik? I worry about you being alone, I just wanna spend some time with you without having to study until my brain melts out of my ears. Is that really so bad?”

That seemed to do the trick, because his expression softened and he sighed. “Alright, I’ll go with you,” he agreed. “I can’t have you worrying about me for no reason.” The corner of his lips twitched into something faintly reminiscent of a smile, and you nearly cheered. 

For the most part, the party was unremarkable, just as you’d expected, Jayce and Viktor got along well, with Jayce animatedly telling Viktor about his current project, and Viktor offering some input on the parts Jayce said he was stuck on. Almost everybody had a bit to drink, but nobody got so drunk that they were sick or making bad decisions. 

Well… mostly.

“We should play Spin the Bottle.” Vi had a bit of a smirk as she made the suggestion, glancing over at Cait and stifling a bit of a laugh when she blushed. “C’mon, Cupcake, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little game?”

“I am not,” Cait insisted, scowling. “But we’ve already thrown away all the empty bottles.” 

As if she’d been waiting, Vi downed the last of her beer, wiping away the bit that dripped down her chin with the back of her hand as she waved the empty bottle in Cait’s direction. “Got one right here.”

Cait rolled her eyes, resigning herself to the fate of playing the game. “Fine,” she huffed, “But I am not kissing Jayce.” 

Everyone began to take their seats on the floor, making as tight of a circle as they could as Vi laid the bottle on the floor in the middle. Before you joined them, though, you looked over at Viktor. He’d leaned his cane against the arm of the couch where the two of you had been sitting, and he was eyeing the floor grimly.

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder, doing your best not to draw attention to him as you murmured, “D’you wanna stay on the couch?” 

Viktor frowned, considering your words for a moment. Eventually, he shook his head. “No, I think I would prefer to join everyone else on the floor.”

You nodded back, not entirely surprised by his answer; he always did his best not to let his disability hinder him, even if you could see that it caused him pain and discomfort. “Need some help getting down there?”

He hesitated for another moment, then gave a slight nod. “Please.”

Standing from your seat, you took Viktor’s hand, helping him up from the couch and back down onto the floor. It took a few moments and a bit of spatial negotiation to get him into a comfortable position, but soon enough you were settled on the floor, too, with Cait on your left and Viktor on your right. 

“How do we decide who goes first?” Cait asked, arching a brow as she looked across the circle at Vi. 

“I’ll go!” Powder chirped, grinning as she leaned forward, grabbing the bottle and giving it a hard spin. When it finally stopped, the neck of the bottle was pointing squarely at Vi. Instead of being grossed out, Powder simply grabbed her sister, planting an obnoxious kiss on her cheek with an exaggerated “Mwah!” 

Vi rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, shaking her head slightly at her sister’s antics. You laughed along with Powder and Ekko, the girl’s behavior a little ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. 

Deciding to go clockwise around the circle, Vi grabbed the bottle and gave it a spin herself. After a moment, it landed back where it started, in her direction.

“D’you wanna spin again?” Powder asked, tilting her head slightly. 

“Nah,” Vi replied, twisting around and grabbing a bottle of vodka and a shot glass that had been left on a side table. She poured herself a shot, then downed it right afterwards. “Options are give a kiss or take a shot. And I can’t very well kiss myself.” She set the bottle and the shot glass down in front of her, then turned to look at Viktor. “Your turn.”

Viktor sighed softly, not looking thrilled at the idea of participating, but he didn’t argue, just leaned forward a bit and spun the bottle. As it slowed, it looked for a moment as if it was going to land on Vi again, but it only came to a stop once it pointed at you. Once you processed what you were seeing, you looked up at your friend to gauge his reaction. 

Much to your surprise, Viktor seemed almost scared by the result; he was frozen, eyes widened the tiniest bit. He glanced in your direction for a fleeting second, though when he realized you were already looking at him, his cheeks flushed a rather intense shade of pink. He looked away quickly, instead eyeing the vodka bottle; you’d never really known him to be a drinker, so that was even more surprising to you. 

“You don’t have to take a shot, Vik,” you reminded him gently, offering him a smile when he met your eye again.

“…Are you sure?” he asked, not seeming entirely convinced.

“‘Course I am.” You shifted a bit closer to him, placing your hand over his as you smiled up at him. “No need to be nervous.”

The words seemed to flood Viktor with bashfulness, the pink on his cheeks spreading down his neck. Instead of arguing or insisting he wasn’t nervous, he leaned down, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were softer than you were expecting, if a bit chapped. Your eyes slipped shut as well, and you leaned up a bit more to meet him. A soft puff of air ghosted across your cheek, and you felt him relax a bit more into the touch. As much as you wanted to linger in the kiss, you let him pull away after a couple of seconds. You weren’t sure if it was noticeable, but you could feel a bit of heat in your own cheeks as you smiled up at him again.

“Alright, lovebirds, we get it,” Vi teased, smirking as she leaned past Viktor to look at you. “Your turn, hot stuff.”

With a roll of your eyes, you reached out and spun the bottle. Watching as it spun, you found yourself hoping it would land on Viktor so you could kiss him again. A few rotations later, though, the neck of the bottle pointed squarely at Vi. “Nope,” you said, already reaching for the vodka and the shot glass. You poured and down a shot in just a few seconds, then bumped Cait for her to take her turn; even without looking at her face, you could tell that your friend was relieved you hadn’t chosen to kiss the person she was interested in.

When you settled back into your spot, you looked up at Viktor again. There was an undeniable look of relief on his face as he smiled faintly down at you, and it made your stomach do a funny little flip. Suddenly feeling a bit bashful, you dropped his gaze, instead resting your head lightly against his shoulder. He made no move to shrug you off, simply adjusted to the small amount of added weight, and shifted his hand so it rested over yours. You exchanged no words through all of the slight shuffling, but it wasn’t awkward – in fact, it was nice to be a little closer to him.

Just as you settled down, though, you watched the bottle stop spinning, once again pointing straight at Vi. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to laugh, but when Cait groaned and leaned across the circle, grabbing Vi by the neck of her shirt and pulling her into a kiss, you couldn’t help but wolf whistle while Jayce, Ekko, and Powder laughed and cheered. 

“Finally,” Vi sighed, once Cait released her and they both sat down again. “About damn time, cupcake.” As smug as she tried to sound, the grin on her lips and the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

Cait clicked her tongue, pointedly looking away from Vi and over to Jayce, as if it would hide the way her whole face burned. “It’s your turn, Jayce. What are you waiting for?”

Knowing better than to tease or argue in that moment, Jayce reached forward and gave the bottle a spin. It shifted a bit to the left from how hard he spun it, but when it finally stopped, it landed on Vi. Again. Jayce glanced up at the pink haired girl, and both of them grimaced. Nose still wrinkled, Vi quickly poured a shot, downed it herself, then poured one for Jayce and passed him the glass. 

As Jayce downed the shot, you covered your mouth with your hand and laughed softly; it wasn’t hard to figure out that Vi wasn’t interested in men at all, but you knew for a fact that Jayce liked women, so the fact that both of them were so grossed out by the idea of having to kiss was especially funny to you. Though he remained quiet beside you, you heard Viktor let out the smallest puff of a breath, one you recognized as a laugh. You tilted your head slightly to look up at his face again, dropping your hand down to your lap, and you found him already looking down at you with a faint hint of a smile, a playful sparkle in his eye; he finally seemed to be actually enjoying the party, and you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

“What the hell?”

Vi’s baffled voice drew your attention, and you saw that the bottle was pointing at her again, but not in the same position it had been a few moments ago; presumably, Ekko had taken his turn, and just like everyone but Viktor, had wound up with the option to kiss Vi or take a shot. When he blew a kiss to his friend’s older sister, you and Powder both laughed, and even Vi chuckled a bit.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you rigged this game to make sure you’d get kissed tonight,” Cait said. The heat had finally died down from her face, and she was starting to look a bit smug, but that was all undone when Vi grinned at her.

“Cupcake, if the game had been rigged, everyone would’ve kissed me. You’re the only one who actually did it.” 

The laughter that her comment brought forth only ended when Cait threatened to kick everyone out of her house, even if it was only half-hearted.

You couldn’t really avoid Jayce any longer, though. It was finally Cait and Vi’s wedding day, and you were having to do much more coordinating with Jayce than you’d been expecting. It wasn’t anything too serious, thankfully, but it was just enough little things that it was starting to drive you insane. Between the two of you, you’d narrowly avoided Vi seeing Cait’s dress before she was finished getting ready — You’re really not gonna let me see my fiancée on my wedding day? — prevented Powder from staining her bridesmaid’s dress with pizza sauce — I have a romper in the car that’s the same color, it’s not a big deal! — and had to talk the photographer through the directions to the venue when they got lost. And just when you thought you were finally going to be able to take a breath and sit down for a few minutes before the ceremony started, Jayce dropped a bombshell on you.

“What do you mean Viktor’s your plus one today? What happened to bringing Mel?” Despite how you fought to keep your voice level, even to your ears it sounded a bit shrill.

Jayce, to his credit, looked remorseful about what he’d done, even if he did flinch a bit at Mel’s name. “We broke up,” he said. “About a week ago, actually.”

“Oh.” You paused for a moment, feeling a little guilty for being so accusing before you had all the information. “I’m sorry, that’s… Breakups are never fun. I’m sorry.”

He just nodded. “No, they’re not,” he agreed, letting out a soft sigh. Silence settled over the two of you for a moment again, then another thought occurred to you.

“Did Cait know you were bringing him?” It was difficult to imagine your best friend knowing your only ex-boyfriend would be at her wedding and not giving you a head’s up about it, but at the same time you knew she wanted all of her close friends there, and if you’d known ahead of time that Viktor would also be at the wedding, it would’ve been a lot harder for you to make yourself go.

Fortunately for you, Jayce was quick to dismiss that worry. “No, she doesn’t know he’s here. I told her that Mel wasn’t coming but that I wasn’t sure if I was bringing someone else or not.” 

You pursed your lips, but you gave a small nod. Though you were relieved that this detail hadn’t been purposefully been withheld from you, still weren’t happy about it. “I hope you know she’s probably gonna tear you a new one when she realizes you brought him without telling her,” you said after a moment, a faint smile tugging the corner of your lips; the comment was meant mostly to tease, but you and Jayce both knew there was a grain of truth to it. 

Jayce smiled back a bit. “Maybe she’ll go easy on me since he plans on leaving you alone.”

The tension between you now dispersed, you split up with Jayce, letting him go and get ready for his entrance to the ceremony with Powder. Deciding to check in on Cait one last time, you knocked lightly on the door of the room she’d been getting ready in, then poked your head in. 

Cait was sitting at the vanity, staring at herself intently in the mirror, and you knew she was mentally picking apart every part of her hair and makeup. It made you sigh. “You look stunning, Cait. Stop worrying so much.” 

Crossing the room to reach her, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders from behind, resting your chin atop her head, though you were careful not to ruin her hair. “And even if you didn’t, you could walk down the aisle in an inflatable dinosaur costume and Vi would still think you were the most beautiful person in the world.”

Just as you’d hoped, your words made her laugh, and you felt her relax. She reached up and rested a hand on your arm. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmured. “Deep breaths, yeah? You got this.” A gentle squeeze to her shoulders, then you added, “I gotta go meet Ekko now. I’ll see you out there in just a minute.”

She nodded, squeezing your arm back gently before you released each other, and you stepped out of the room. Ekko was waiting for you just out in the hall, and he smiled at you, extending your bouquet to you. 

You smiled back, accepting the bouquet, then linking arms with him. “You clean up well, kid. You should wear a suit more often.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at your words, but his smile never faded. “The material’s not forgiving enough to surf in,” he joked back. 

Before you could quip back, it was time for the two of you to enter the ceremony, walking down the aisle to the music you’d helped Cait and Vi pick out together. You made it all the way to the altar without an issue, separating from Ekko and going to stand by Jayce. Despite your better judgment, you found your gaze skimming over the crowd, and when you caught the familiar sight of a crutch leaned against a seat, you felt your throat tighten. You were quick to look away, but it was too late; memories were already flooding back to you. 

Vi hadn’t been the only one to leave that party with a new partner. Unlike Cait and Vi – who jumped right into the deep end of dating after sharing that kiss during spin the bottle – you and Viktor took things slow and steady. There were many conversations about what the kiss at the party had meant, if you even wanted it to mean anything at all, and where the two of you stood after it. Viktor had sheepishly admitted that he’d developed feelings for you about halfway through the semester, and when you told him you felt the same, he’d gotten a little flustered.

The progression of your relationship from there didn’t just feel natural, it felt right. You only got more comfortable being around him, visiting each other’s dorms for movie nights or to study together, often with cheap takeout shared between you. Viktor started joining you and your friends more often when you got together. He didn’t come every time, since he was still rather introverted – you teased him about becoming a complete recluse without you – but would tag along to game nights or bar trivia. 

He asked before he kissed you every time, no matter how long you were together. You thought it was adorable and sweet, and you made sure he knew that. Beyond kissing, physical intimacy wasn’t hugely important to either of you. Sure, sometimes you’d curl up while watching a movie, or you’d fall asleep in the other’s lap, but that was it. The one time it came up around Vi, she’d been so surprised it had worried you, and you’d wondered if you were depriving Viktor of something he wanted simply because you weren’t initiating. Though you’d been nervous about it, you brought it up to Viktor the next time you saw him. He’d been quick to assuage your concerns, assuring you that if there was something he wanted, he would talk to you about it.

“So no, lásko, you are not depriving me of anything.” He’d kissed your forehead afterwards, and you felt him smile against your skin when you relaxed into him. “Am I depriving you of anything?” he’d asked after a moment, a bit of a teasing lilt in his words.

You’d laughed softly, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around him. “No,” you promised, “You’re not. I would talk to you about it if you were.”

And you kept your word. For two years, everything between the two of you was perfect. The first semester of your senior year of university started off just as every other year had, and at first, nothing about your relationship changed. About six weeks in, though, Viktor started a big project in one of his classes, and it consumed nearly his every waking moment. It was a little disappointing to not see your boyfriend as much, but you made the best of it, going to his dorm on the days he wasn’t in the lab all night & bringing takeout with you, knowing he had a tendency to forget to take care of himself when he got sucked into a project. 

But then a project for one class turned into projects for all of his classes, and he all but disappeared from your life. He stopped asking to come and see you, he stopped asking to meet up at the library, he stopped taking care of himself. Even then, you tried to be patient, to be understanding and ignore your hurt feelings; you knew his degree was more work-intensive than yours was, that it required more of his time, but it still wasn’t fun to be faced with the reality of it. 

The final straw came when he stopped so much as answering your texts. It had been three days with no word from him at all, and you, worried he may have pushed himself too hard in the lab over the weekend and gotten himself hurt, went to see if he was in his apartment, or if you needed to look elsewhere for him.

You used the spare key he’d given you about six months before, and when you saw him sitting at his tiny dining table staring blankly down into a mug of coffee, you felt relief rush over you. The relief was quickly followed by irritation, though, when you saw his phone sitting on the table in front of him. 

“Vik,” you sighed, closing the door behind you and crossing the room to join him. “I haven’t heard from you in days, I was getting really worried.” As you spoke, you glanced over at his phone. After a beat, you decided to offer him a graceful out, even if neither of you would really believe him if he took it. “Did you not get my texts?”

“I got them,” he said, voice flat. “I didn’t answer because I was busy.”

His honesty shouldn’t have been a surprise, since he’d never been one to lie to you, but in this instance, it was. “Too busy to send me a quick text to let me know you weren’t unconscious on the floor of your lab?” You did your best to inject a bit of humor into your tone, but it was difficult.

“Yes,” was his simple reply, nothing in his tone or expression changing in the slightest. It didn’t sit well with you.

“Viktor,” you said, doing your best to sound firm but not angry as you stood upright once again. “Do you remember when I said I would tell you if you were depriving me of something in our relationship, just like you said you would?”

He nodded, though he still didn’t look away from his coffee.

“Well,” you continued. “I’m telling you now. You’re not working with me to keep this relationship together. I understand that you’re busy, and that most of the time you don’t have the energy for much besides classes and schoolwork, but you can’t keep treating me like this. I have to be one of your priorities, too.”

“No.”

“...Excuse me?”

“No,” Viktor repeated, a bit more firmly, finally looking up at you. “My classes and my lab work are the most important things in my life right now.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “…More important than spending time with your long term partner?”

“Absolutely.” The certainty in his voice was unmistakable, and your heart dropped to your stomach. “I will not be changing my priorities. Nothing will come ahead of my studies. They are the only things that matter for my future.”

His words made you feel sick. Although you wanted to break down, to scream at him and cry and smash everything in his tiny, shitty apartment where you’d spent so many nights in love with him, you felt like you were watching yourself from outside your body as you whispered, “Fuck you,” then turned and left the apartment, slamming the door forcefully after you. 

The sound of cheering startled you a bit, and when you finally came back to the moment, you saw Vi dipping Cait as they kissed. You grinned at the sight, joining the rest of the guests in clapping. Part of you felt a bit guilty about mentally checking out for the entirety of the ceremony, instead drowning in the memories of your failed relationship, but it couldn’t be helped now. 

Pointedly not looking in the direction you knew Viktor sat in, you joined the rest of the bridal party as they left the room, everyone eager to get to the reception. Powder, Vi, and Cait all rushed off to get changed into their second, more comfortable outfits, leaving you, Ekko, and Jayce to usher the guests into the reception so the happy couple could make their entrance there, too. 

As you greeted the wedding guests and welcomed them into the room the reception was being held in, you were able to forget, for a moment, that the last person you ever wanted to see again was among them. That is, until you felt Jayce’s hand on your back. You turned slightly to look up at him as he gently pushed you into the room. 

He gave you a small, apologetic smile, and you knew instantly he was trying to prevent you from having a run-in with his best friend. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you,” Jayce promised quietly. All you could do was nod, turning and melting into the crowd as they filed into the room. 

Before leaving your apartment that morning, you’d told yourself you weren’t going to have more than a glass or two of champagne, that way you could better enjoy the evening with your friends, but you were already craving something stronger. You hesitated for a moment, then made your way over to the bar. Just one cocktail won’t be so bad, you told yourself. Since there was no one else at the bar just yet, you were easily able to go up and order your drink without having to wait. 

Drink in hand, you thanked the bartender and left a big tip, telling yourself you wouldn’t be going back up again during the reception anyways. You sipped slowly on your drink as you waited for the newlyweds to make their entrance, not wanting the alcohol to hit you too hard before the party actually started. Just a few minutes later, they entered the room, Cait in a looser-fitting, shorter dress – much more conducive for dancing, everyone had agreed at the fitting – and Vi without her suit jacket. You cheered along with everyone else when you finally saw them, and you smiled as you watched their first dance. The way they looked at each other, so in love it was almost sickening, made your heart clench; you were really, truly happy for them, had been rooting for them since you’d realized Cait had a thing for Vi almost five years ago, but you couldn’t help but wish you were in their shoes. 

You downed the rest of your drink and went back to the bar for another when you caught yourself looking for Viktor; the last thing you needed was to be lovesick over the man who’d wrecked you while you were trying to celebrate two of your best friends. Unfortunately, that meant that your “just one cocktail” promise to yourself had turned into three – one Dark n’ Stormy, one Suffering Bastard, and one Death in the Afternoon. 

As you sipped your third drink, you watched your friends out on the dancefloor; a slower song had started, and Vander had stolen his oldest daughter away from Cait for it. Cait swayed around a bit with Jayce, and Powder rested her head on Ekko’s shoulder as he held her close, his faint rocking movements in sync with the music. Everyone had a partner, someone to share the moment and be happy with.

Except for you.

Yet again, you found your gaze wandering, and eventually you spotted Viktor again. He was on the opposite side of the room, his crutch leaning against the table where he sat. He was alone, and he looked almost as uncomfortable and miserable as you felt, though he didn’t seem to be drinking. It was clear that he was as far from you as he could get, something that was certainly Jayce’s doing, since he’d promised he wouldn’t let Viktor bother you, but you were just buzzed enough to ignore everything in you that was screaming for you to stay away.

What’s the worst that could happen? you thought, downing the rest of your drink and placing the empty glass on the bar before picking your way across the room, skirting the dance floor and all the other happy partygoers. Somehow, Viktor didn’t notice you until you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your legs. You leaned back in your seat a bit, just watching him. 

For a few long moments, he just stared at you, eyes wide with wordless shock, like he couldn’t really believe you were there talking to him. When you arched a brow at him, though, it seemed to bring him back to himself. “Jayce said I needed to get out of the house and go somewhere that wasn’t the lab,” he answered, dropping your gaze as he spoke. “I knew you were going to be here, so I told him I did not think it was a good idea, but he was insistent. He wouldn't leave the house without me.”

Even once he finished speaking, he wouldn’t look at you again, and all you could think was how much it reminded you of the last conversation you had with him. Forcing those thoughts aside, you took a moment to really look at him, to see how he’d changed in the years since you’d broken up. His hair was a bit longer, but he still wore it in generally the same style; he used a crutch now, rather than a cane, something Jayce had mentioned before and you’d glimpsed during the ceremony, but it was entirely different seeing it up close; his clothes seemed looser on him, as if he’d lost weight he couldn’t really afford to lose; he even seemed paler than you remembered, almost ashen. It all made your heart pang; the years clearly had not been kind to him, but even still, you couldn’t forget how unkindly he’d treated you first.

“You really fucking hurt me, you know that?” The words slipped out before you could think them through, and once you started, you couldn’t make them stop. “The way you treated me right before we broke up was so… so shitty, Vik. You didn’t even care about me anymore. Do you know how that made me feel?”

He winced at your words, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I do.”

“How could you possibly know?” Bitterness curled around your words, and you nearly choked on them.

“Caitlin showed up at my apartment a couple of months after our breakup. She was furious, screaming at me about how much I’d hurt you, how miserable you were all the time. She told me you’d spent practically every night at her house, crying on her shoulder about how awful you felt and how much you hated me.” A small, sardonic smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he added, “I think she would have tried to kill me if Jayce hadn’t been there with me.”

Viktor looked up at you again after that, looking almost pained. “I am deeply sorry for doing that to you. I never should have treated you so terribly.”

His words shocked you, and you were only a little surprised to feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. “…I really loved you, Vik,” you whispered, throat tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “Like, I really loved you. Those years we were together, I was so happy. I felt like I’d won the lottery, because I had a partner I was head over heels for and who loved me just as much, I had an amazing group of friends, and my education was going perfectly. I let myself start planning my future because I was so convinced everything was going my way.”

A short, bitter laugh escaped you, and you shook your head. “It sounds stupid now, but… I even started looking at wedding venues and engagement rings. Spending the rest of my life with you seemed inevitable, so I got carried away.” You trailed off, wiping your eyes quickly before you started sobbing like a baby. “I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this,” you admitted. “I never wanted to see you again. I really thought I’d moved past all this. But I guess not.”

Viktor was silent for so long you started to feel self conscious, even with three drinks practically erasing your inhibitions, and you glanced over at him to try and gauge how he was feeling. You were a bit shocked to see that he looked almost sick. 

“You… wanted to get married?” His voice was smaller than you could ever recall hearing it, but instead of feeling vindicated like you’d expected, you just felt worse. 

“Yeah. Of course I did, Vik. I never cared about anyone the way I cared about you.” 

Silence settled over the two of you for several long moments; it left you feeling exposed and anxious after being so vulnerable with him, something you hadn’t even been planning on doing when you walked over to him. Just before you could stand up to flee, Viktor spoke again.

“I have missed you every single day since our relationship ended,” he confessed, once again staring at his hands. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I treated you like garbage. You deserved so much better than that; you still do.” 

He paused, took a deep breath, then continued, more nervous than before. “Is… is there any chance you could ever forgive me?” he asked. “I know it is selfish of me to ask – that I don’t deserve to be forgiven – and I would not blame you if you cursed me out instead, but I am asking anyways.” When you didn’t answer right away, he looked up at you one last time, the deep gold of his eyes shining even in the dimmed lighting of the venue. “I will get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes. Even if you kick me while I am down, I will do whatever you ask to earn your forgiveness.”

All the air was sucked from your lungs at his words, and all you could do at first was stare; it was so reminiscent of the Viktor you’d been certain you would marry that it made you dizzy. “You idiot,” you huffed, shaking your head at him. “Stay in your fucking chair, Jayce’ll have a heart attack if he sees you on the floor.”

Viktor gave a slight shrug. “He probably would,” he agreed, “But it would be worth it if it meant making things up to you.”

“That’s not the way I want you to make things up to me, Viktor.”

If you hadn’t memorized every one of his mannerisms, you would’ve missed the way he perked up the tiniest bit at your words. “Is there a way you want me to make things up to you?”

Though you tried to fight it, the faintest hint of a smile ghosted across your lips. “You could start by getting me a glass of water.”

He smiled back faintly. “Anything else?”

“I wouldn’t mind a snack with it.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The way your heart fluttered at his words was all too familiar, but you were starting to think that that wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

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Omg I loveddd that new fic!!

Could I request a fic of Sammy going on never offside where cat and Julie ask how it was growing up in a hockey family, being a star soccer player, dating will?

ooo wait i really like this idea. i feel like samy and will are just big podcast people in general so the idea of having them on one seems really fun and samy would def have a lot of fun with cat and julie

i never really know how to write these kinds of fics so like it will mostly be dialogue as they talk back and forth with one another, so kind of imagine this is how you'd listen to it except it's all in writing with some fan comments at the end :)

au masterlist

"hi everyone, welcome back to never offside with the lovely samy hughes. we've been getting so many requests to have her on the podcast ever since will and macklin were on it, and we finally found a time when she was free to sit down, so we're really excited to have you today," cat began and the younger girl smiled into her camera.

"hi. thanks so much for having me. i've heard and seen a lot of great things about this podcast, so i'm excited to finally be on," samy chuckled.

"i don't think we've had a hockey turned college soccer player on before, so this will be really fun to get to talk about something other than hockey for once, but first we do have to talk about your roots so i guess we will start talking about hockey," the three laughed.

"so i guess let's start with introductions for those who don't know you," julie smiled.

“okay, well, i’m samy hughes. i’m the youngest sister to quinn, jack, and luke hughes—all really big figures in the nhl. i play soccer at the university of michigan too,” samy introduced herself and waved.

"that was beautiful. tell us what it was like growing up with three older brothers. you all aren't originally from michigan, right?"

“no, so i was born in new hampshire but pretty soon after i was born my whole family moved to toronto so i just say i’m from canada because i grew up there until i was 12 and we do have dual citizenship, so i guess i am canadian too."

“why the move to toronto?"

“so my dad was assistant head coach for the toronto marlies which is a professional hockey team in the american hockey league for those who don't know and then he started working with the toronto maple leafs as director of player development for a long time after that.”

"wow, what an extensive history. i'm guessing you met a lot of leaf players then?" cat chuckled and samy quickly nodded.

"ohh, yeah. my brothers loved it when we were younger, so they were always begging my dad to invite them over for dinner or something so they could ask a hundred questions about the nhl," the brunette laughed.

"that sounds like something those three would do. were people ever jealous of you knowing like mitch marner and brady tkachuk?"

"like..kind of? i think quinn and jack's friends were more jealous than any of mine. it was pretty cool though. i got to brag about going to brady's wedding," samy grinned and remembered how jealous some of the boys back at umich were so jealous of her getting to go to that.

"that would be something i'd brag about too. so obviously you come from a huge hockey family, both of your parents playing as well, so can you talk about what that was like? how does it feel coming from such a huge hockey family, especially being the little sister to quinn, jack, and luke?"

"honestly, i really loved it. i mean i was always right there with my brothers when i was younger. we all loved hockey and always itching to play it so that's why our parents built us our own rink, but i loved it. i think it's such a fun sport and i like really fast paced sports, so it helped get my energy out. also with any younger sibling, i always wanted to do what my brothers were doing and keep up with them, so i was always racing to be on the ice and learn their skills."

"that's really sweet. are you all close?" cat wondered and samy nodded.

"we've always been super close. i honestly couldn't imagine my life without them because we all lean on each other a lot and like i love hanging out with them and just doing things together. when we're all home it's super fun."

"who was the most competitive growing up?"

"ha, i don't think i could name just one of us. we were all super competitive and were always trying to start different things like who could eat their bag of chips the fastest or something," samy giggled.

"would you say you're closer to one over the other?"

"i don't think so. i go to them for different things, but i guess if i had to say someone, probably luke just because we are closer in age and it was always like luke and i paired together and then quinn and jack, but i'm close with all three of them in different ways." cat and julie smiled hearing samy say that.

"what was your favorite thing to do together besides play hockey?"

"ooh, tough question because that is honestly all we did. i guess during the summer we love going on the boat together or like going fishing," the soccer player laughed.

"typical. do you ever wish you didn't have brothers or grew up with an older sister? or like did it change anything for you?"

"that's so funny you ask that because i actually get asked that a lot. people think i like missed out on so much not having a sister, but i don't think i've ever felt like..missing in that aspect? since we saw grace and will so frequently during the year, i always saw grace a lot and she was like that big sister i never had, so i still got all of those experiences from her and same with will. he got to experience what having big brothers was like because he had my brothers and our families spent every summer and holiday together for the most part," samy explained.

"that's actually really sweet you all had each other growing up. what was that dynamic like? will didn't talk much on it when we had him on?" julie asked.

"well it became like quinn, jack, and grace watching over luke, will, and i. we always split ourselves like that in the summer or like will would ditch and go hang out with my brothers while grace and i did something. it honestly felt like having 5 siblings. we definitely got into some hefty arguments over the summer."

"oh, i'm sure that house was loud every summer. i don't know how your parents did that when you were all so young."

"me neither. i think they just like..let us work it out most of the time which actually worked better and made us more like..stronger because we worked out our own arguments a lot or like grace and quinn would help mediate instead," samy laughed.

"ah, i see. so instead of the parents disappointment you had your siblings disappointment instead," cat and julie laughed too.

"yeah that lowkey felt worse than my parents disapproval because i hated disappointing quinn and all of my brothers for that matter because of how much i looked up to them."

"being so young still when quinn started making a name for himself and becoming more popular online, was it hard to navigate that kind of stuff? how did you handle the immediate popularity?"

"i think i was about...14 or 15 when quinn really started getting noticed for his talent and that was when i was getting close to choosing soccer over hockey, so i definitely faced some backlash from fans when i announced that, but i was also kind of already in that spotlight for hockey, so it wasn't that hard? i went through some media training and i brushed the comments off fairly quickly i think?" the brunette shrugged a little.

"wow, that is pretty young. unfortunately, there is a lot of comparison between all of you still from people, so how do you navigate that?" julie asked.

"at first, it was hard to hear so many people comparing me to my brothers when i didn't even play the same sport as them anymore. i've heard a lot about me only getting into umich because of my brothers. when i used to play hockey a lot of people told me i was only good because of my brothers which was crazy to say because like..yeah i was good because of them? they taught me almost everything on the ice."

"wow, i had no idea people said that to you about umich. that's so crazy to say?" cat exclaimed and the younger girl nodded.

"it does not bother me anymore to hear that kind of stuff, but back when it was just starting it was hard..i mean with any siblings it's not nice to be compared to each other, but we're all secure in our relationships with one another that it really doesn't bother us. i mean..quinn is 25 years old now and he's been hearing all of it since he was like 20, so it really does not bother us as much anymore."

"well, that's good i'm glad. it makes us happy to hear how close you and your brothers are because i know a lot of people who are not close with their brothers, especially if they're the only girl."

"yeah, i love them. i look up to them a lot and they're always there for me when i need them so i can't really complain. they really shaped me into the person i am today," smay grinned and hoped her brothers smiled when they heard that after watching the podcast.

"so kind of shifting away from hockey, tell us how this road to soccer started. what got you into it?" julie shifted the subject and samy chuckled.

"it's literally like every other preteen who was looking to fit in which sounds so corny, but it's true. we were in michigan by the time i started middle school and all of my friends played soccer because that was like the sport and so i felt kind of out of place saying i had hockey practice and couldn't hang out with them, so to hang out with them more i decided to try out for soccer which i had never really played before. i ended up making the team and my first year i just had a lot of fun with it. i was fast and the coaches liked that as well as my hand-eye-foot coordination, so that season it was just like getting to hang out with my friends and kick a ball around for two hours."

"damn, i get that. if you aren't doing what everyone else is doing, girls will outcast you," cat laughed.

"no seriously. i felt so out of place with them and i literally just wanted to fit in and be cool, so i joined soccer. no plans to quit hockey just yet, but i started thinking about soccer more than hockey," samy agreed. middle school were very primitive years in deciding who you were gonna be in high school.

"when did it start getting serious for you?" julie asked.

"well my 2nd year in 8th grade i had played and practiced all summer so i ended up improving my skill a lot so when tryouts rolled around again i was like flying on the field. my coach started me every single game which is a high honor to be able to start every game and we like killed that season. i started realizing that okay maybe i was good my first year of high school. we merged schools with another middle school so it was a bunch of new people i'd never met before. we went through tryouts and i was literally shitting my pants thinking i wouldn't make the team. after the last day of tryouts, the varsity coaches, which for those who don't know are the coaches for the older girls in 11th and 12th grade, pulled me aside and told me they wanted to pull me up to varsity to play with the older girls because of how much i proved myself in tryouts. that's a super high honor to be a 14 year-old playing up with 17-18 year old girls, so that's when i realized that i actually might be better than i thought."

"freshman on varsity is a super high honor, i can attest to that. that's actually super awesome, i did not know you were pulled up your freshman year. i'm guessing you played up for the rest of high school?"

"i did, yes. at first, i was like oh, yeah i'm on varsity, but she'll probably have me sit the bench for most of the game and i'd play the last like 2 minutes or something, so i was very pleasantly surprised when she started me during our home opener and for every game after that as a freshman," samy chuckled.

"woah, that is super cool. i'm sure you made a lot of girls jealous," cat said.

"i mean, probably, i don't really know. i was falling more in love with the sport and i just felt super lucky getting to play."

"so that talent has always been there for you that's awesome. how did that decision come to play soccer full time?" cat asked.

"it came after winning the state title for my school my sophomore year. it was the first time we won in like..a long time and after the season ended i started realizing how serious this may be for me and how much i loved getting to win that title with my team and how i just wanna feel that joy all the time. i was super nervous to talk to my parents about the idea of quitting hockey even though they've always told us that if we ever wanted to do something different we could. i think it was more about how much they've done for all of us to play hockey that i felt so bad that i was leaving it, but they were super supportive of the idea. they wanted me to be in something that made me happy and they saw how much soccer made me happy. i was also nervous to tell my brothers, but they were all super supportive too and wanted me to be happy in a sport that made me as happy as soccer did."

"aw, that's super sweet, samy. how crazy is it that you'd become one of the best collegiate soccer players and lead your team to a national title and basically rebuild the entire program," cat mentioned making the girl flush.

"i relive that moment like everyday. it was so, so special to all of us to win that title after so many years," samy grinned.

"do you have plans to go pro?"

"i would love to if a team wants to have me. this sport has brought me a lot, so i'd love to keep playing it until i can't."

"when we had will and mack on they talked about how exciting that moment was watching you score that last goal to win the game. what were you feeling in those final moments?" julie wondered.

"well, one of the other plays collided into me moments before which really shook me up more than i led on. my head was like pounding after that and my rings were ringing, but i knew i couldn't get off the field with the amount of time we had left and how close we were."

"oh my god, yeah. that hit was insane," cat exclaimed.

"she came out of nowhere and i just remember suddenly being on the ground."

"props to you for getting up to finish it out," julie said and cat nodded.

"i don't know how i did, but i just knew i needed to get up and finish it. i was so nervous that i was too shook up but watching that ball fly through the air felt like time was going in slow motion. i was so scared it wasn't going to go in."

"will said it was a very surreal moment in the stands."

"i bet. i like went into shock when the ball went into the net and the whole arena erupted into cheers and my team stormed the field. it was great redemption after last season," samy smiled.

"i mean even as an 18 year old freshman last year, you still led the team to the finals. you better be patting yourself on the back," julie said and samy laughed.

"i am, i am. will tells me that a lot whenever i get doubtful."

"do you ever feel like it's too much sometimes? being this huge soccer start and everyone watching you?"

"honestly, yeah, it has been a lot at times. this past year i've definitely learned a lot about my boundaries and my limits. it's always been quinn and jack at the center of attention that when it's finally on me i have no idea how to react. i've never been the sibling who's being critiqued for everything she's doing, so it was definitely hard to learn how to balance at all," samy admitted for the first time to people that weren't her friends and family.

"i know you recently mentioned some of your struggles on instagram a few weeks ago in hopes of being support and an outlet for girls going through something similar. you can say as much as you're comfortable with about it but i wanted to know what this has all meant to you," cat said gently.

"yeah, i don't mind. i think i've definitely learned to not be afraid to reach out when i'm struggling. i'm in recovery for a pretty hard eating disorder and mental health struggles i went through this past year which was not easy for me to admit in the beginning. i grew up as someone who was very independent and hated reaching out for help, so i kind of thought i could sweep it all under the rug, but i quickly learned i could not do that if i wanted to get better. i basically scared myself into not eating and fell into this mindset that if i wasn't playing soccer, i couldn't eat because i would gain weight and i was scared to gain "unnecessary" weight. jack was the one who noticed first when i came home a few months ago and honestly, if my brothers didn't find the courage to say something to me i would probably be in the same mindset or worse," samy admitted which made the older women frown.

"any particular triggers?"

"not really. it kind happened freshman year, too but not as bad. being in the offseason has always been really hard for me, but not to the point where i couldn't eat. i don't really know what happened this year, but i think it was a lot of taking on the alternate captain position, harder classes, reconciling things with will after our breakup last summer..it just kind of all piled itself on."

"well, we're happy to hear you've been working through it. thank you for sharing, it's never easy," cat sympathized and samy smiled.

"i just hope other girls will know they're not alone and i am always willing to answer dms about it if they ever need someone to talk to. i was so scared to talk to someone because i didn't know anyone going through this."

"it can be so hard to talk about something so vulnerable and sometimes scary like an eating disorder. if you or someone you know is struggling, please check out the resources in the caption and the description of this episode. reaching out is the first step," cat encouraged and samy and julie nodded.

"well again, thank you for sharing that with us, samy. i know it's never easy to open up about that, about all of this. it definitely is a lot of pressure going from a new rookie to a girl who everyone is counting on to win the season. how do you feel about next season?" julie continued.

"i'm feeling really good about it, actually. i think it will be a really good season and we're all hoping for another national title," the girl grinned.

"i'm sure it will be. will told us he has full confidence in the team," cat laughed while samy blushed at the mention of her boyfriend.

"speaking of which if you don't mind, we'd like to shift to talking about him. we got him talking but mack chirped a lot at him, so we didn't get to hear too much," julie shifted to their last topic. samy quickly grinned.

"oh, of course. i love getting to talk about him."

"so we know the backstory that you and him grew up together and that you got together when he was in michigan for usntdp. how did that play out? what changed for you?"

"i honestly don't really know myself. we started hanging out a lot more as we got older because we started maturing and could tolerate one another. i just started seeing him as something more than a friend, but it seemed really crazy to me because like that's will. he was like fourth brother to me, so it was kind of hard for me to come to terms with my feelings at first," samy admitted.

"i mean i bet. you two were best friends before the relationship started, that's definitely gotta be kind of weird," cat nodded.

"it's funny because like everyone used to tease us about it, but we always brushed them off and were like no, no we don't like each other. even our parents knew before we did which is so funny to me."

"did your relationship change at all as will started getting more popular with everyone?"

"no, not really. i think it helps that we were best friends before this, so we're already secure for the most part in our relationship. we've been through media so it's not like it's something we need to explain to one another."

"he talked to us on the podcast about how he really wants you to move in with him once you're done with school," julie chuckled.

"oh my god, yeah. he talks about that all the time and i'm just like i would love to, but i don't want you to be the sole support of us. i would wanna get my feet on the ground before thinking about something as big as moving in together and living together full time," samy explained.

"that makes sense. it's a good thing to know because moving in with someone is a big deal and it takes a lot of work on both ends, so i'm glad you know that. obviously, long distance is really hard but how have you guys made it work?"

"we like to do a lot of movie nights together where we do a watch party kind of thing. we send each other things a lot like legos and we build them together on call. mostly a lot of facetiming whenever we're free and just catching up about our days and what's been going on," the soccer player smiled.

"i give you props because it is not easy, especially so young. you two jumped right into long distance as soon as you started dating, right? was that hard?" cat asked.

"i mean, yeah it was hard, but again because we already had established our relationship because of our friendship, it made it a lot easier. he knows me, i know him and it was basically just the same except we were dating and we got to kiss anytime we saw each other," samy giggled and blushed again.

"when and if you do decide to do this for the long run, where do you think you'd wanna settle down?"

"i talk a lot about moving back to toronto. i loved it there and i'd love to go back and be there for awhile. it's such a great city and great people and it reminds me childhood."

"we asked will where he thinks you two would wanna be and he also said toronto, so he knows you well. how much do your friends chirp on you both?" cat laughed.

"they did a lot when we were younger and honestly still do sometimes. it's funny though and we always all laugh about it. ethan edwards and mark estapa love to harp on will sometimes and it's so funny seeing him get all red and flustered whenever they do."

"we've heard they're like big brothers to you?"

"oh yeah, they are. i mean all of my brothers' hockey friends are like big brothers to me, but mark and eth especially. they looked out for me at umich, so i have no idea what i'm gonna do without them next year," the brunette frowned a bit.

"well, i think that just about wraps up this episode, it was so lovely getting to talk with you, samy. thank you again for coming on," cat started wrapping it up. samy grinned.

"thank you so much for having me, this was really fun and i hope i can do it again," the girl waved to the camera while cat and julie did their outro.

comments

user1 this is sooo cutie aww i love how well they all got along

user2 wait i had no idea samy went through all of that this year, that makes me so sad. i'm so glad she's doing better tho

user3 her and will are sooo similar it's so cute

user4 i love how respectful cat and julie were talking with samy about her ed and mental health struggles

user5 i love the way samy lights up when she talks about will

user6 my favorite hughes fr

user7 her opening up about her brothers too awww

user8 now we need will and samy on the podcast together where they talk more in depth about their relationship and growing up together

user9 i loveeee her and this

user10 soo glad julie and cat were able to get samy on

[clonehub]

My thoughts on the latest arc in no particular order:

I was hoping they'd do more with Bix to be honest. I'm glad she left cassian to force him to be the leader he needs to be, but at the same time I wish that more could have happened with her. I'm always in favor of giving a woman a gun and the ability to fight -- and I don't mean this in a shallow way. Ultimately, she chose the rebellion, but she felt like a punching bag for the duration of this season and I'd have thought that her killing her torturer would give her more verve. She was on Yavin IV though not really interacting with the rebellion the way cassian did.

Also Cassian's in tune with the Force. Bix might be too (she mentions dreams). I like that they had the Force in the form of a Force healer -- so no lightsabers or waxing poetic about the Force. The whole conversation was quite abstract in the way conversations about the Force tend to be. What I don't like is that either of them (Bix or Cassian) are in tune at all. Idk, I'd prefer it if they weren't.

Mothma's speech was beautiful and I could feel the tension leading up to it. She named Palpatine as the genocidaire of the Ghormans and actually used the word genocide (a word that's been used in star wars before, relax). But I'm glad that these things are being stated plainly, like how the word rape was used plainly. It's best not to dance around these subjects.

The Ghorman massacre scene was upsetting to watch, as expected, especially since the violence reminds me of both Palestine/pro-palestine protests and the violence that BLM protests faced back in 2020. Dreena's desperate calls for help reminded me of the countless messages I've seen Palestinians writing up to this very day.

That being said, I...don't care for Dreena x Wil and that's obviously partly because romance as a propellant isn't a good way to get me on board with anything. At the moment it doesn't seem like it led to anything in particular besides Wil and Dreena ending up on yavin four anyways, which I feel could have been done and would have happened regardless. But I'm glad Wil is okay.

Syril is dead (everyone cheered). And I think his arc was perfect. He started out a a pathetic try hard who was thirsty for control and power, he bowed over and over to fascism, and when he finally has his worst enemy in his sights? Cassian doesn't even know him. Years, wasted. And then he's shot in the head, having lived and died a nobody.

Syril's violence as a character is always externalized and it also feels like the culmination of people never taking him seriously (not that they were ever meant to -- he was so plainly desperate for it, it was embarassing). Him choking Dedra shocked me at first, but ultimately didn't surprise me. he had that capacity for violence. He stalked/followed Dedra to her place of work and grabbed her, saying a lot of creepy things. I was confused why Dedra would ever willingly date him at first, but fascist magnets attract, they both have control issues, and ultimately the math adds up. Syril was perfectly obedient and Dedra was perfectly demanding.

Dedra was interseting to watch in this arc. Everyone's mask is cracking. She's so gung ho for promotions until she has to incite a genocide. Someone was talking about the different kinds of violence we see in this episode. Syril had no right to choke her (he did so because he was upset that she lied, not because of any sudden ill content for the empire) and Dedra had no right to do what she did (duh). But cassian would have been right to assasinate her.

I love how they portrayed the media in this arc. Always shilling for the empire, calling a peaceful protest an insurrection when people are yelling behind barricades, etc. Very accurate.

Luthen's getting a little sloppy, which makes sense given the immense pressure he's under. I love Kleya as usual. The Empire suddenly has a lot more nonwhite people in it. Lmao.

[highlordofkrypton]

* alt title: no evil throw pillows found

SUMMARY: Whenever Bob's dark thoughts get the better of him, the Thunderbolts are always there. (Short domestic scenes of Bob settling into his new life and team.)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm super nervous writing for Marvel bc I don't normally go here... But the Thunderbolts* have a chokehold on me. Honestly, if you told me I can only write Bob + Thunderbolts fluff forever, I would be okay with it because this was really fun. Thank you to @yaralulu for being my beta or else this would have never seen the light of day.

READ ON AO3 OR BELOW THE CUT

It’s the shiny, pretty things that scare him.

He had been living with Alexei for months now while the renovations on the Tower were completed. At first, he didn’t know what that had to do with him, and then, realization crept in that he didn’t know what was left for him. Gaps in his memory left him devoid of family, comfort and event shelter. All he had was the sweater on his back and Yelena’s grounding grip so he couldn’t sneak away the moment they looked away. 

The New Avengers have nothing to do with him, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. The last time he was left to his own devices, he managed to bumblefuck his way into becoming a nuclear depression bomb, a rapid-spreading disease of humiliation and pain, a storm of all-consuming— Hey, now, let’s not think about that. A boom and a clatter in the front yard helps change his thoughts. He hops out of bed to make sure Alexei hasn’t blown up the rest of the neighbourhood while working on the limo. (He still doesn’t know where explosives feature in shifting the vehicle from bulletproof-ish to fully bulletproof.)

Bob has gotten better at catching himself and insulating himself from the dark thoughts. Alexei’s place is cluttered, comfortable and the right kind of messy. They both try to clean; they’re both bad at it. He likes the in-between and Alexei’s boisterous positivity. His friend— friend, now that’s something—is on the up and up, growing more (or less, Bob isn’t sure) popular by the day, and Alexei thrives on both the attention and the heroics. The transition means that Bob can live in this innocuous two-bedroom bungalow and take it slow. He does try to be as neat as possible, a way of showing gratitude. Alexei never asks, or seems to notice when he fails and that’s… nice.

“What’s wrong?” Yelena had asked the first time they visited the incomplete tower, after it was transferred to their ownership. Bob had remained stuck at the threshold of the elevator, listening to the echoing voices of the New Avengers as they commented on the progress of construction and inhibited it by touching everything. A crack and a crash, and Bob can only assume the yelling is because Alexei leaned on something to prove a point, which is almost always the opposite of his actual point.

“Nothing. You go ahead. Enjoy.”

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” She drones, jabbing at the ‘open doors’ button. “I never cared for the fancy shit. As long as it gets the job done, you know?”

She’s being nice. Bob knows it, and he appreciates it.

“You guys are the Avengers. It should be cool and stuff.”

“You guys? I distinctly recall you standing right up there with us. You’re in the press release.”

“Oh, I just happened to be there.”

“And now you just happen to be a part of the team. Unless you don’t want to,” she looks up at him with a distinct warmth in her eyes—that’s where her brightness comes through. Not from her smiles, or even her heroics. It’s in the eyes, the way they glimmer with some unspoken amusement that Bob doesn’t always understand. Sometimes, he’s afraid to know what’s so funny. Yelena shrugs. “You’ll just have to tell the team then.”

“Oh, god, anything but that,” Bob groans, and he finds himself smiling, too.

At this point, it’s just easier to go along with the ruse. The New Avengers and Bob, who can’t leave even if he wanted to, but not in a kidnapped kind of way because he could leave, but they’re just so… so—He can’t leave them. They’re a team, even if he swears he isn’t on the team.

“C’mon. We better join them and make sure Alexei comes up with new terrible ideas.”

“Yeah, next thing you know, we’ll have giant portraits of ourselves lining the hallway.”

“Don’t,” Yelena holds his finger up at him. “Give him ideas.”

The move went by quickly—too quickly. Valentina sent over professionals who’d packed up his whole life—one whole bedroom—and swept past him. Bob tried to stop them, fussed, but every word went unheard. Alexei had tucked Bob under his arm, and invited him to celebrate while the movers work. Change is hard. Change is scary.

Is there any difference between the Void and the Unknown? It’s all dark anyway.

“Here, have a celebration cashew.” Alexei pulled out a handful out of nowhere and offers it to Bob. “They’re salted,” he grins.

Avengers Tower is shiny, new and bigger than anywhere Bob has ever lived. It’s bigger than all his previous homes combined. He can’t quite escape the chaotic bustle of people with movers trying to figure out where boxes go, wanting to know which rooms belong to who, and last minute finishing touches on the renovations. He pads up the spiraling stairs towards the one room that caught his eye. It’s isolated and out of the way, an attic of sorts. No one will  bother him here and most importantly, he won’t be in anyone’s way. The Avengers will be summoned and there will be a net zero chance of Bob being in the way or worse, Bob being reminded that he can’t help. Not unless he goes there.

It’s the only thing you’re good for. 

Why are you here, if you won’t help the only way they want you to? 

You’re not good for anything otherwise. 

You just take up space.

“Out of the way, Bobby. This room’s mine.” John shoulders him on his way into the room. “The team leader gets the penthouse, and that’s me.” He turns on his heel to face Bob, jabbing his thumbs at himself. “Tough luck. I’m sure you can keep rooming with Big Red.”

Bob tilts his head. “Are you mad I didn’t come stay with you?”

“Yeah, right. Just ‘cause we hugged once doesn’t mean you know me.” John rolls his eyes. He moves towards the bed, half-ready to throw himself on it.

“Oh, you’re sorely mistaken.” Ava shimmers in on the bed, already comfortable with her hands tucked behind her head and one foot over her head. “This room’s spoken for. Too slow, JV.”

“What? Were you on the roof the whole time waiting to do this?”

“I’ll have you know there’s a helipad on the roof and a view which people are free to enjoy. You think I would wait just for a moment to spite you?” She smirks with feigned indignation and zero inclination to move. 

Bob grins, and slowly steps away, leaving the cacophony of bickering in his wake. Maybe the company isn’t so bad after all.

There isn’t much choice left after his attempt for the single room upstairs. Bucky takes Steve’s old room, and no one contests him for it. Yelena does the same with Natasha’s. Alexei claims two for himself under the guise of needing one for all his future merchandise and pending sponsorship gear. A storage room would be too far, and his brilliance needs to be contained and accessible. In the end, Bob finds a decent-sized corner room.

No—

It’s too big. Too empty. Too new.

The thing about shiny, pretty things is that they’re easy to break. They don’t wear their bruises and cracks well, and it’s only a matter of time before Bob does something wrong—before he gets a little too upset and takes out half the tower and everyone in it. He’ll kill the only people he has—

“Bobby!” Alexei’s voice booms as he shoves two throw pillows in Bob’s arms. “For you. Since the last ones were evil.”

Evil? Oh, right. In the shame rooms. He looks down at them, and they have the New Avengers’ pixelated faces plastered all over them, including his own. He’s grinning, clapping over his friends’ confusion. It’s from the day they were announced as a team and every single one of them looked like hell. Bob had expected them to protest and point out that he had been the cause of the incident that proved the world needed heroes again, but not a single word was uttered by any of them. They stood by him, despite all of his wrongs. His grip tightens around the pillows.

“Thanks.” If only he had the words to say how much it means to him.

Over the course of the next few days, his friends set the tone. Bob doesn’t know how they know, but whenever he is on the cusp of slipping, they’re there. He’ll think about how people must question his use on the team, and how they must notice his absence. Ava would slip into his room, winking at him and pressing a finger to her lips as she hides John’s favourite mug for the seventh time this week—an equal amount to the time he’s been an ass this week. For someone who says he doesn’t care that Bob chose to stay with Alexei over him, John finds a multitude of excuses to barge into his room. (To complain? For company.)

“I still think,” he’d say, hovering over Bob in the kitchen. “That you shouldn’t skip arm and chest day. For the aesthetics, you know. You gotta look like a hero. Sans the blonde, that made you look like a tool.”

“Douchebag jar!” Yelena would call over her cereal and point at the jar clearly marked ‘douchebag jar’. Surprisingly, it gets a lot of use from everyone. Bob thought it would be a John exclusive. He even had to drop a five dollar bill once that one time they decided to have an  arm wrestling competition and he asked, ‘ all five of you against me?’ His innocence meant nothing, so in the jar his money went. And yet, he still gets invited to everything.

In this silent mission of insulating him, Yelena is always there. While the others are loud and pull him into their orbit, she slips into his. After long missions, she’ll sit on the edge of his bed in a big sweater, doom scrolling and asking nothing from him, except for his company. Whenever she’d chuckle, she’d immediately flip the phone to show him and share in that minute joy. When she’s there, Bob’s mind is quiet. Comfortable. He can just be.

***

“You coming to movie night?” Yelena asks, standing at his door. It’s the first of many rituals, the only one planned since they all moved in. “Bucky finally found a hole in his schedule for us,” she adds, rolling her eyes and popping candy into her mouth.

Bob doesn’t always venture out of his room. Some days, he can only bring himself to shower, and no one says anything about it. Well, every time John does, someone elbows him or shifts focus on his nonsense of the day, so it doesn’t really count. Today is one of those days where his feelings are balled in his throat; he can’t quite put the words to the pointlessness that lingers in his mind, just that he doesn’t know why he bothers trying at all. It amounts to nothing but another day to get through. The same thing over and over until he dies. It gets worse when the Avengers are called to save the day and Bob watches them go. They don’t need me.

“It’d be nice to have you,” Yelena says casually. But we want you, her words imply.

“Yeah, sure, yeah, I could do that.”

The movie room is set up for coziness over practicality—one giant couch with extension allows all of them to pile on together and watch the projector. John, Ava, Yelena and Alexei are already there. They move in tandem, greeting Bob with various forms of acknowledgement, whether it’s nodding, waving, calling out to him or making space for him to sit between them. Not on the edge, not if they can help it. He settles between Yelena and John, the latter of which is arguing with Ava again about the film choice.

“I have home movies!” Alexei holds up tapes.

Before long, Yelena is climbing over them to stop her father from showing her colleagues her most embarrassing moments. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

Bob shrinks, but he can’t help but laugh. These are his friends. This is his family.

“Get off!” John complains.

“I think we should watch the movies!” Ava says, playing defense for Alexei.

“I have also brought snacks.” Alexei grins, holding up homemade trail mix.

“Get your salty nuts the hell away from me!” John groans.

Bucky arrives halfway through the argument, and raises his brows at Yelena sprawled over everyone and clawing at Alexei. He takes her spot beside Bob, and Bob immediately tenses. With his busy schedule as congressman and  de facto leader of the Avengers, Bob hasn’t had much time to spend with him. Bucky is quiet in a brooding way; he comes with a laundry list of (bad) experiences but he’s also a legend and that intimidates Bob. Bob keeps his hands neatly tucked in his lap and out of Bucky’s way.

“Hey.” Bucky offers Bob a closed mouthed smile. He’s being nice. He’s always nice. Bob’s just overthinking. The older man digs in his pocket and holds out a small ‘ A ’ pin to Bob. “You didn’t come down to get one the other day. It’s yours.”

“Oh, I don’t… need one,” Bob answers, uncomfortably.

“Why not? You’re a part of the team. I had one made for each of us.” He keeps holding it out. 

Slowly, the panic starts to set in. Bob’s making this awkward, isn’t he? God, he can’t even be a good fly on the wall.

Bucky seems to sense it. He just smiles even more. “You can toss it in a drawer if you want. Never even have to wear it, even, but you’re an Avenger. We’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Bob takes the pin, hesitantly, and stares at it like it’s the most precious gift he’s ever received.

“So, what are we watching?” Bucky calls to the rest of the team.

“Yelena’s home movies!”

“Fuck every single one of you!”

***

The first time Bob becomes an Avenger is against his own will.

Alarms blare throughout the tower, spiking his anxiety through the roof and the lights on the control panels blink furiously at him. There’s yelling coming down through the comms, and the video feed is grainy at best. The vitals on the screen show various states of stress—low indicators compared to normal people, but Bob knows them well enough to see the signs. The plan, unsurprisingly, is a bad one.

“Where the fuck is JV?”

“He’s in the lower levels!”

“The levels that I just flooded?!”

Bob’s hands shake as he presses the device against his ear. “John’s still alive, he’s okay for now.” He keeps reading the data on the screen and the updated satellite images. “The structure’s going to sink.”

“You need to send the sub, asap. We’ll get John out, but we’ll get pulled down if we try to swim,” Bucky explains calmly into Bob’s ear. They wouldn’t ask him if it wasn’t an emergency. The Avengers have been doing just fine without Bob. Bob was perfectly happy hearing about the missions after the fact.

“It’s not ready. I-I have to contact,” Bob rifles through different papers, trying to figure out his contact person in Valentina’s R&D team. Oh, god, they’re going to die. You can’t do something this fucking simple, and they’re going to die because of it.

“Bob,” Bucky’s voice comes through the comms, even despite the rain of bullets in the background. “You can do this. The emergency numbers are in the top drawer, manila envelope.”

There isn’t enough time to make the call. He can see the updated imagery, and they’re sinking. Drowning is a terrible way to go, and he can’t stop picturing it in his mind’s eye—each one of them holding their breaths until their lungs burn, until they need to breathe and there’s nothing but water for them to inhale.

Let me out, the Void whispers. You’re not doing anything, anyway.

“Fuck!” John’s voice comes through the comms after his terrifying silence. “How many fuckin—” A pause and crackle of static. “Variables! Now, I gotta die ‘cause… My kid… Love them.”

Let me out.

Bob buries his fingers in his hair, wrenching his eyes shut and tries to block out the horrors. He can’t breathe, either. He can’t think he can’t focus. His friends need him, and he can’t—

Let me do it.

He can’t—

LET ME OUT.

He can’t lose them.

Bob barrels towards the window and crashes through it. He takes off, flying for the first time since that day. He isn’t the Sentry. He isn’t a hero. He’s just Bob who answers when his friends call and his friends are the ones who taught him that even someone who shits on the field deserves a place.

[thelaurenshippen]

question about my favourite tbs character: did you intend to write damien to seem borderline or did that just come about unintentionally? i have BPD and holy shit damien reads as SO borderline to me it’s kind of insane. there’s that entire final letter in SFP, but the line “i think maybe i’m supposed to hate all of me” hits so, so close to home for me. maybe i’m not as self destructive as damien, but i do understand him. he makes me feel so seen and maybe that’s a grim thing to say given his behaviour, but… damien absolutely reads as borderline to me. his unstable relationships he manages to sabotage intentionally or unintentionally, his barely-there sense of self that balances on the fact that he thinks he’s this horrible monster, his impulsive decisions that somehow never work and always bite him in the ass, his intense mood swings, his genuine terror of being abandoned to the point where he will beg someone for even a scrap of love as soon as he’s not immediately hated, and the part about not knowing what wants are his or what wants deserve space — maybe he’s a villain and historically, BPD is used as a villainous trait, but damien doesn’t feel like a moustache twirling, witch cackling, murderous and irredeemable villain to me. he just seems like someone who’s made of bad decisions and ruined relationships. he seems like someone who’s in a lot of pain and doesn’t know how to live with himself so he constantly searches for someone to fill this massive, emptiness inside him that won’t ever be filled because no one taught him what it felt like to be whole — not until he kidnapped met mark and predictably enough, that relationship crumbled to dust. damien hasn’t had much, so he holds onto things and people so tight that they end up getting crushed between his fingers and somehow he loses everything he gets even though he could have anything he’d ever wanted. maybe i’m completely misinterpreting damien but i do absolutely love him and he’s SUCH a well written character. i could easily talk about him for hours to anyone who will listen.

sorry for waxing poetic about damien in your ask box but i love him so much and who better to vomit my thoughts about him to than the person who wrote damien, right?

I love that you love Damien!!! I really love him too, and it means a lot when people relate to him or see him as more than just a mustache-twirling villain because he is more than that. he's someone who makes the same terrible decisions over and over again, someone who has been corrupted by his power, and who wants connection but doesn't know how to get it. that doesn't excuse any of his actions, of course, and he's not irredeemable, because no one is, but he would need to be way more active in his own redemption to really get there. he's a very complicated person and it means a lot to me when people appreciate all those complex, human dimensions.

all that said, I'm always glad to hear that people headcanon any characters with anything they feel like they share, but I've written very few characters with specific conditions. even though she's never actually technically diagnosed (Dr. Bright does not do traditional diagnosis), Sam has anxiety and a panic disorder. I have those diagnoses myself, so I feel confident in saying that's what she struggles with. the other major one would be Frank's PTSD - I knew he had PTSD from the get-go and always wrote him with that in mind. but, of course, that's not to say other characters don't have diagnosable PTSD, just that I haven't necessarily thought in those terms with a lot of characters.

in general, I don't find it particularly useful for my writing purposes to get formal with how I'm thinking about my characters and their mental health. I focus instead on how they feel, how they behave, their relationships, etc. and because of who I am and who I have in my life (which includes people with BPD as well as bipolar, anxiety, depression, PTSD, autism, adhd, etc.), a lot of traits of various conditions pop up here and there. a professional psychiatrist might be able to look at my characters and the DSM and match things up, but that's not my expertise nor particularly useful to me personally!!

but again, I love headcanons! I have my own relationship to the bright sessions and its characters, but from the moment I released the first episode, they ceased being mine. they're yours to do with what you choose!

[centrally-unplanned]

--- I personally (and I think later seasons may show why) lean towards the other direction of this "Scooby gang fighting" problem, where they should have had the gang become active vampire fighters but via very focused "levelling up" in that capacity, with defined roles and skills. I do get the appeal of the vampires just being completely in another league, but it is a TV show with a defined cast and a lot of fight scenes - it would get boring pretty quick if the rest can never contribute and would miss a ton of arcs, right? But I am proposing that as a solution to the same problem you are observing, where the strength of normies vs vampires is inconsistent - sometimes they can beat em, other times they are helpless, and it doesn't seem very logical. I do think this is a valid ding against the show's world building

--- There are technically other Hellmouths - to explain my joke, not-at-all-important-spoiler here, there is a Hellmouth in Cleveland and they joke about going there once or twice - but they are not at all common. Kendra was definitely doing something - there are always more demons to kill - but to be frank she was probably doing much less important things than Buffy was, the Watchers didn't really have a plan for two Slayers being activated at once after all. The Watcher's Council typically "moves" the Slayer about to various regions, responding to this or that big threat as needed, and Buffy being a bit more committed to her post due to her social life is a minor plot point in the series. (Re: Watchers and their intentions - no comment!)

--- Don't quote me on this as I am dredging up decade+ memories, but I think they discussed having the principal die pretty frequently, and then they had Snyder and were like "no, I'm sorry, he is way too fun, we are not cutting him". A frequent problem on Buffy lol, as "bit villain who was supposed to die in the middle of Season 2 and then James Marsters happened" Spike shows!

--- In-universe Jesus being a vampire and that is how he came back, they should have done it - cowards!

--- I am a big fan of Xander/Cordelia, partially as a Xander fan and also because they are just fucking funny. I appreciate their realism - a lot of romances do start from very murky grounds and take time to grow, and they have a good time being dumb teens about that journey. I can think of a few episodes where they use their magic-plot-problem-of-the-week to explore that to great effect.

--- Lol, if you want insight into Deep Buffy Fandom Discourse, a lot of people haaate Xander, and yeah it is primarily because of his early seasons Buffy obsession. I am more tolerant, but he clearly has a writing problem - in Season 1 I think it is quite good, it is his explicit arc, it is the plot, he is building up to asking her out and being rejected. But then in Season 2 they have not-much to do with him, but he is around, they use him as comic relief... and settled on objectifying comments and jealous barbs as their mechanism. It aged poorly even at the time, and imo was something of a mistake they didn't realize they were making. Such is TV!

--- Just like Angelus fucks, Giles fuuuuucks, and his Ripper past is a load-bearing part of that. The typical Buffy arc for the girlfans is "watch it as a teen, think Angel is the hottest thing ever. Rewatch it as an adult, realize Giles is lapping that emo sopfest"

--- Lmao I like the pagan stuff! But okay, I do think this is a bit of an "era" thing - in the 90's the Wiccan stuff was new, it was the hot new thing in alt goth nerd discourse. Like The Craft came out in 1996, literally a year before Buffy aired. This is what nerd witches did in this era, so the show pretty much couldn't ignore it. And it was pretty well-connected to a bunch of feminist topics which aligned with the show's thematics. It was/is also hella gay, and that might be important later. (Though what is weird is not the presence of Wicca, but the absence of Christian spellcasting. They fight vampires using crosses and holy water, and yet there is no Christian magical catechism to call upon? I get that Giles says a bunch of Latin sometimes, but that isn't the same)

--- Kendra is very cool conceptually, and alas imo is underutilized - she is a whole different Slayer/Watcher dynamic and I would have liked to have seen it explored more! It is 100% an actor thing, they had Bianca Watson for when they had her and could afford her and had script space, TV be that way Though, fun Kendra fact - Watson was originally going to play Cordelia, but she had other roles that interfered so they had to drop her. Amusing to me as Cordelia & Kendra couldn't be more opposite characters!

--- It is very cute how you like all the silly (positive connotation) episodes! Killed by Death is a very silly name, and I think they knew that while scary that was also not an "important" episode and wanted to have fun with it. Meanwhile I think the Fishman episode is one of the least popular in the season, but I do find it charming - lots of good Xander/Cordelia moments and I like how everyone at this school, even the staff, are just totally nuts. Though it's ordering in the season is obviously a mistake, should have been earlier and not right in the middle of the Angelus Arc.

--- "I Only Have Eyes for You" is probably the most fun they have with Angelus/Buffy, what a way to play it out! Such a cute couple <3 Okay end of buffy buffy buffy thoughts, may the discourse thoughts continue to flow - I am having fun ^_^

So, why does the Slayer matter? Buffy's power set seems to be an extremely mild case of increased strength and quicker healing. And she gets visions, occasionally, I guess.

Why doesn't Giles go out and fight vampires more often? He did a lot better against Angel than I expected. Even Xander is able to slap a vampire around in "Becoming, Part 1."

Sure, maybe Buffy is the strongest human around, but it seems like four normies could do her job. Hardly "she alone can fight the vampires" material – and what's going on in the rest of the world, while the Slayer patrols the streets of one particular town in California?

I'm very confused about this.

This is something that is going to be a combination of "gaping plot hole" and "you just gotta watch the series". For the latter, you will learn more later on about the Slayers, their historical role, their relationship with vampires, etc. They have a je ne sais quo that others cannot match - to say something that isn't really spoilery and only is ever implied, they have an ability to "rise to the challenge" that others simply don't. Others can beat any individual vampire or demon, but can never take on any of them at any time the way a Slayer can.

Additionally, and this is I am pretty sure never openly stated but just is very obviously true, they are fucking vampire magnets. Buffy will go on a midnight ice cream run to a 7-11 and encounter more vampires than a military patrol unit actively on the hunt for an entire week will - and that example is only very loosely changed from actual events that happen in the show. She can hunt vampires better because vampires are just drawn by destiny to her side to try to kill her; it is authentically her greatest value-add vis a vis her day-to-day Slaying role.

But yeah, it obviously is also just a huge plot hole. Clearly the Watcher's Council should be doing way more, Buffy should have teams of support who use combined arms of guns and stakes to keep the riffraff down while she focuses on big bads, etc. At a certain point, being a teen hero means society needs to hold the idiot ball to give you a chance to be it, and Buffy's focus on high school relationship drama and personal growth didn't leave a lot of space to address that.

As for the rest of the world, remember this particular California town is the location of the Hellmouth - other places have radically lower per capita monster populations, so they need less help. Presumably. Sucks to be Cleveland I guess (you will get that joke later).

Still, while per capita rates are lower, obviously places like Los Angeles have radically higher populations, and so clearly must have some real vampire and demon problems they gotta deal with. If you want to know more about how a Slayer-less place like Los Angeles handles things, tune in to watch Angel at 9:00 PM/8:00 PM Central, airing only the WB!!

[slayerdurge]

the thing that drives me absolutely crazy though is that gortash is presented as this commanding dominating tyrant and yet it's consistently shown that the thing he appreciates about durge (or tav for that matter) is when they're not willing to submit to him & when they are strong enough to either stand against him or to stand with him & when they are his equal.

an insane thing for someone like him to want. you'd think he'd want to rule alone and yet the insight checks all show that he actually prefers to share so long as there's someone around worth sharing with.

"Half a smile shows he is teasing you. He doesn't think for one moment you'd fully submit to him. Nor should a spawn as formidable as you."