#was gonna just reblog the old post but i couldn’t find it—

[iced-souls]

Just cause i have the urge to try again—

Send me an ask of anything and I’ll show you one of my stuffies that relates the closest to it.

[ma1dita]

trouble's coming for you

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (established relationship) suggestive banter lol The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. Also known as the three times Percy is completely oblivious about you two, plus the time he learns what L-O-V-E looks like for two teen demigods. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: PERCY POV!!! maybe the real enemy was the blue balls Luke got from a clueless 12-year-old. you’re gonna tell me you wouldn’t overthrow the gods too? scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(posted 2/29/24, edited!!! i think!!! four hours of sleep later and a big kiss to @hotchfiles miss lari as always for inspo mwah)

—

What’s in a name?

One of the last defining memories Percy Jackson had with his mother before arriving at Camp Half-Blood was her reminder that names have power. He’s held fast to that belief, treading carefully with his words in this unfamiliar place that he’s supposed to call home so soon after losing his own.

Being the new kid for the hundredth time in his life means that he’s accustomed to change, much less introducing himself as Percy Jackson, whatever that means at this point—but then becoming known simply as the kid who causes trouble. What then, is he supposed to do, when his first friend at camp introduces him to a girl who embodies the name trouble? 

To Luke, through Percy’s actions, it seems as if he’s trying to reclaim a crown that currently belongs to the beloved head counselor of Camp Half-Blood.

—

The dining pavilion is filled with mouth-watering scents and the sound of chattering campers to the point that it’s a bit overstimulating if he thinks too hard about it. Mr. Brunn—er, Chiron told him to take it easy after the events from yesterday, but he feels a bit tough on luck after making Luke run circles around camp trying to find what he’s good at.

“Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” Percy says glumly, pushing the mac and cheese around on his plate. Luke sighs, letting the boy to his right speak.

“Oizys,” Chris mumbles through full cheeks before he cocks his head at the 12-year-old, “but she’s a goddess, and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s more like failure.”

Luke looks to Chris with a half smile before looking back at the kid and saying, “We’re gonna find the thing you’re good at. I know it.” He looks like he’s going to say something else before something, or someone catches his attention and it’s almost like the older boy is transfixed, eyes shining with mischief or something deeper that Percy’s young brain couldn’t comprehend just yet. 

“And here comes trouble…” Luke says with a smirk, eyes following your figure until your feet take you to their table. The sandy-haired boy twists around, expecting to see a goddess of some sort until he sees you, violet eyes and a lilt of something sinister—giving off the energy of someone who holds power but also likes to fuck with it. You cross your arms over your chest, gaze floating over the three boys and at the tip of your chin, Luke takes his plate off the table, prompting you to hop up and slide onto the smooth surface in front of him. 

“You look like someone kicked your puppy, so you must be the new kid. Peter, right?”

A snort of laughter comes from behind your slouched form, Luke partially concealed but body obviously shaking with amusement as he looks at you.

“He might just turn out to be a puppy kicker one day,” the son of Hermes jokes, “Meet Percy Jackson.”

“That’s not…”

You sigh at Luke’s idea of a joke, face incredulous as you lean over and conjure strawberries onto Percy’s plate. He’d never seen anything like that before, someone so casual about their abilities, but he didn’t have much of a reference past yesterday. This camp keeps surprising him in ways he’s never imagined possible.

“Heard D gave you a hard time earlier, sorry about him—I’d blame it on withdrawals but he’s just an asshole,” you offer with a smile and a handshake as you introduce yourself, watching the boy’s eyes widen with wonder.

“It’s not your fault…I’m used to being the new kid.”

Eyebrows furrowing at his tone, you lean in closer, voice turning serious. You’re a lot like Mr. D in the sense that it’s easy for you to poke at the kids who come through here for a reaction to make sure they’re okay mentally. When they don’t react is usually the call for help.

“Well, new kid, if anyone gives you a problem here at camp, you let me know. Even if it’s these two hooligans, or if it’s my dad.”

“You’re talking to our lovely head counselor, Percy. She calls the shots around here,” Chris chimes in jest. But only one part of your sentence sticks in his mind as he whips his head up from munching on a berry. 

“He’s your dad?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” you giggle, “and though you’re sweet and I would love to have you as a sibling, he kind of has a rule on having too many kids at once, unlike other gods.”

“A rule he’s already broken,” Luke drones, hand fidgeting with the black bandana tied around your thigh, “but who knows? If Percy ends up to be one of you, well…may the gods have mercy on us all.”

A deadpan stare is directed at the scarred boy, and you swipe at his curls like a feral cat, making him wince and laugh all the same as he bats you away.

“Tough shit, 11. Do you know how many hellions inhibit your cabin? Your dad inflicts agony on me personally every time another one of your siblings walks past the boundaries.”

The petty squabble is interrupted by the chime of the bell over your heads, but you two are still in a world of your own. It reminds Percy of the time he watched two subway rats fight over a pizza slice on the 6 train—he didn’t really know who to root for then either. Chris sighs and gets up, nudging Luke to follow, which he does begrudgingly as he claps his large hand on your leg. You hiss.

“Our turn!” Luke says with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Our turn for what?”

“Burnt offerings,” you explain as you chomp on a strawberry, “the gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer.” You notice Percy stay in his seat, which makes a smile pull at your lips, “Think you’re off the hook for today though, bud. Or you can be just like me.”

“Don’t give him any ideas, Trouble. I’ll throw in a few for Hestia.” Luke chews at his lip as he leans over you to grab a few berries off of Percy’s plate to toss into the fire for you. 

“You don’t pray?”

“I’m not really the religious type. I’ve got what I need,” you concede, leaning back on your palms as you watch the son of Hermes stand for a few extra seconds at the hearth. “Besides, my godrent is right over there, and Luke worries enough for me. It’s more his thing,” you say with a lazy smile. The campers filing out of the dining hall wave at you and you enthusiastically greet everyone with dancing fingers. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone that…happy to be on the job, but things work differently around here, so he doesn’t think much of your upbeat attitude.

“Eat up. Some of that strength has to go to you. Gonna need it.” You say ruffling Percy’s hair, and when Luke comes back, he tugs at the shoelaces of your boots until you kick his hands away. You both share a smile like people do a secret, even here in the open air.

“Do they like the smell of burnt mac and cheese?” Percy says curiously, eating another spoonful of the meal. His head hurts at another thing to consider in this brand-new world he’s walked into.

“They like the smell of begging,” Luke grins, and you laugh like a firework going off, making Percy’s lips pull up into a smile.

“I’m not much of a beggar though, if you ask me.”

The son of Hermes hums at you like he wants to say otherwise, and you slap his chest as you suck air through your teeth. Beneath the wood top of the table and with Percy being none the wiser, your fingers intertwine with Luke’s like it’s second nature. 

“You burn what you’ll miss the most. Then they know you really mean what you’re about to say, so they listen.” 

Luke takes a breath after explaining how things work for the nth time to the kid, knowing Percy’s quite persistent about making his dad notice him. He remembers being jaded too—striving to be the best for a lick of his dad’s attention and all of his efforts were done in vain. Even though the kid’s arrival at camp was a bit unexpected, Luke doesn’t mind showing him around. 

Hopefully, less work on your end means that he can spend more time with you once this is over with— but by the looks of how the day is going so far, he’s not so sure. He hopes his offerings reach the gods and they grant him extra patience for his good deeds. Watching you laugh at something Percy says as you all walk out of the dining pavilion, Luke wonders if you know that every offering he burns for the goddess of the hearth and home is so that she’ll protect you.

—

“Lights out in 10 minutes, cabin 11! Everyone ready for bed?”

The sound of your voice jolts Percy awake from his post-dinner nap and he blinks slowly until he sees you walking towards him with extra blankets and pillows in your grasp. The other campers were kind of stand-offish, and after praying to his mom he was overwhelmed with the feeling of missing her, so much so that it drained the rest of his energy.

“Long day, huh bud?”

Drowsy with sleep, for a moment, Percy forgets where he is—the unfamiliar walls of the cabin making him shift with unease as he rubs at his eyes. The blurry version of you makes his chest go warm and for a second, it’s like—

“Mom?”

He blinks again, his pale face turning red when he realizes his slip-up. Percy’s shoulders drop when he hears giggles from somewhere in the big cabin and you reach out to smooth his hair away from his face with a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone who first comes to 11 gets nightmares. For some of them, they don’t leave,” you mutter. Percy notices your eyes flicker over to Luke’s bed, where he’s zipping up his hoodie and chatting with one of his half-siblings. Cabin 11 is finally quieting down for the night—children scrambling into their bunks, doing nighttime routines, and having quiet conversations. It’s all so weird, this being everyone’s normal.

“You’re not alone though. Saw you earlier, outside. I still pray to my mom sometimes. She's quite the listener,” you say with a sad twinkle in your eye. The kid sniffs as you hand him the pillows and blankets, finally meeting your gaze.

“Did your mom…” Die too? The words feel like lead in his throat, feeling heavy as he swallows it down. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the pretty counselor, much less speak the truth, because if he says it out loud, it means his mom dying must have been real. Also, you’ve seen him sit in the dark of the forest burning blue jelly beans like a freak. What he didn’t know is that you pride yourself on being one. It takes one to know one, after all.

“Yeah. Makes for one hell of an origin story, but I found my place here, and people who care. I know you will too, when you’re rea—” Your words trail off when you see Luke walk past the both of you with a cool expression before he nods towards the door, and you squeeze Percy’s shoulder before getting up.

“Night guys! It’s getting late so we’ll have to do a story next time, okay?” You walk down the aisle patting heads and tucking in smaller campers, and he hears you whack the younger Stoll brother when he teasingly says, “It’s not fair that Luke gets a bedtime story and we don’t…”

“Connor, enough. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up and called me mom, so save it for tomorrow, chuckles.” He must have been the one laughing earlier.

“Everyone say goodnight Trouble!” Luke calls out with a coy expression, making you roll your eyes as you flick the light off to a symphony of jeers. It’s finally quiet as Percy is propped up against some pillows that smell like raspberries and soft cotton before he realizes he has to pee. 

But Chris said harpies hunt kids after curfew… he thinks.

In a moment of sheer panic, Percy looks around in the darkness of the cabin before the sound of your cackling pierces through the dim light from the outside. He hops up from the makeshift cot and tugs his shoes back on, slowly creeping past the long row of bunks to not disturb other campers before he gets to the door. Your head turns quickly to the intrusion as you spring away from Luke, stubbing a cigarette underneath the wood panel out of sight when Percy steps through the doorway. 

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom,” he says sheepishly as Luke nods, scratching his neck and leaning a far distance away from you. Under the low burning lamps, Percy notices Luke’s cheeks redden and he wonders if he is interrupting something, but the urge to go increases as he steps between you two.

“Right. I’ll walk you to yours?” Luke blurts in one breath. With a wordless smile on your lips, you nod before Percy purposely interrupts this time.

“I can walk her, it’s on the way to the bathrooms, right?”

If only this poor kid knew he was being the cockblock of the century.

“Yeah, Percy’s got me. The harpies won’t like you missing curfew, Castellan,” you tease, stepping around him with a shit-eating grin. Your hair almost floats in the gentle breeze, and Luke rolls his eyes.

“Stay out of trouble. I mean it," he sighs, before shoving you off the porch, and you laugh at the irony of his words. Looking back at Luke, Percy noticed his eyes were on you like he wanted to live in your skin, which was equal parts disgusting and confusing to the 12-year-old. His steps double in pace as you both walk down the path and a brief side glance at your stifled smile quickly makes the kid wonder if you’d let him.

Pushing the sleeves of Luke’s hoodie past your elbows, you wave at Percy’s rushing figure as he almost bolts to the bathroom and you lean against the doorway of your empty cabin. You turn the light on and look across the way to see your boyfriend still leaning against his door, so you flip him off. Of course, he takes that as his cue to saunter over.

But then the loud clanging sound of pipes bursting reaches both of your ears and toilet water floods the dirt near the back end of your cabin. 

So close.

“I’m gonna go check on Annie to see if she’s still on duty. Tough luck, babe,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking in the direction that Percy went, sending the son of Hermes to drag his feet towards your cabin, alone (he didn’t expect to fall asleep propped over your covers waiting up for you, but a lot happened in that damn bathroom).

—

“Hey, today feel like a winning kind of day to you?” Annabeth smirks at the son of Hermes. Next to them, Percy feels a hand clap him on the shoulder and all three of them turn to see you donning red.

“Didn’t you three hear the conch? Wouldn’t want you to fall behind,” you say with a grin as Luke steps up to you and whistles lowly.

“Didn’t know you were playing today. It’s a shame you look that good in red.”

Annabeth fake gags as she crosses her arms to say, “You’re also currently on enemy territory if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, you wound me. I’m not a threat. Percy, I obviously don’t have the flag, right?”

He nods a bit dumbly, still worried about the mechanics of the game and the part he has to play for the blue team, but no one else seems to share his concerns.

“Anyways, sorry I’m not on your team, Perce. The Ares kids snatched me up as soon as my name was on the roster, so I came to wish you all luck.”

“This better not be a diversion tactic, Trouble,” Luke simpers, playfully tugging at your staff, which you use for leverage to step up onto a rock to meet him at eye level.

“Nah. You know I like the competition, angelface,” you whisper, almost daring him to do something.

“Bite me, Trouble.”

There’s a fire in his eyes you’d love to stoke, but now’s not the time or place. You can’t help but indulge though—the both of you enjoy the reactions you can pull from each other.

“You’d like it too much.”

“Alright now,” Annabeth groans, calling your name, rolling her eyes as she pulls at Luke’s arm, “Gotta remember he’s your enemy!” 

“I’M TRYING!” You laugh, shaking your head and walking back towards your team as you shoot them a fake salute. It all happens too quickly as Percy’s unable to catch the spitfire words between the two of you, thinking further about how he might get maimed during this game (which in the grand scheme of things, he almost does. Thanks Clarisse).

“Those two are hopeless! Walk faster, sunshine—we lost too much time watching whatever that was.” Percy stumbles along the forest path as he follows Annabeth, the both of them leaving Luke smirking to himself as he follows the rest of their team. 

Hours later, at Clarisse’s muddy feet and holding her broken spear, Percy hears cheering in the distance as he watches the blue team led by Luke waving the red flag in one hand and your legs supported by his other. You’re in a fireman’s hold across his shoulders and everyone watches as the son of Hermes spins you around like a Tilt-a-Whirl until the sound of your shrieks is audible from the shoreline.

He sets you down gently, dominant hand still around your waist as he snickers, “Got my win and my girl. Must be time to celebrate.” You laugh at his absurdity, pulling his helmet off and wiping the sweat off his forehead with your bandana.

“You’re always going to be a loser in my eyes.” 

Slapping the plush of your hip, the sound echoes in the air—suddenly quiet as you gasp. But you’re not looking at Luke anymore, but rather the gleaming trident above Percy’s head as it’s revealed he’s a Forbidden Child. His jaw tightens at the sight, and there are a lot of emotions running through him, remembering Thalia and knowing that his plans will have to be altered once more because of Percy Jackson. You squeeze his hand before walking away from him to follow your dad and Chiron to the Big House, shooting him a nervous glance.

Damn.

—

The boys have been sparring for hours, and just as you think Percy’s getting the hang of it, Luke thrusts forward with an energy no one should have towards a 12-year-old. Although a bit concerning, he does have a lot to catch up on how to fight like a demigod before his quest in a few days.

“Take a break or else you’ll be crawling away from camp by the end of the week,” you joke, handing Percy and Luke bottles of cold water. Your boyfriend takes big gulps before pouring the rest over his head, leaving you gaping and a little hot under his stare as he nudges your chin and winks.

“You’re doing that on purpose!”

Luke shrugs slyly, and the both of you watch Percy catch his breath. He leans over your shoulder, the tone of his voice sultry as it tickles your ear, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.” 

You bite your lip, before bursting with laughter—which isn’t exactly the reaction he thought you’d have. Maybe he should’ve finished reading the sonnet before falling asleep, but you always take too long with your nighttime skincare routine.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it means, but you’re cute for trying,” you coo, leaning closer so that your cheek touches his. Luke’s whole face is warm from exertion and now embarrassment, but he smiles nonetheless at the proximity. He can’t believe he still misses you, even when you’re skin-to-skin like this.

“That stanza…Isn’t it about names being meaningless?” Percy says between gasps of air before he pours the rest of the water bottle over his head like Luke did. He’s looking up at the both of you as he leans against a tree, instantly feeling more rejuvenated.

You jerk up from your seated position on the large rocks, excited to talk about Shakespeare, and Luke almost pouts at the loss of your attention.

“Yeah! Good job, bud. I forget you went to a hoity-toity charter school,” you say tongue-in-cheek, before turning back to your boy.

“So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself. You’re gonna have to interpret that one yourself, angelface.” 

“Trust I have no fucking clue but you sound really hot when you talk dirty to me,” Luke says with a shrug. Percy laughs at that, before finally bringing up the question that’s been on his mind since Luke introduced you to him.

“Why do you call her Trouble? She seems okay to me.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly, but the older boy leans on his arm with a lovestruck expression as he gazes at you. Oh…Percy thinks, brain feeling freshly washed. How did he miss that?

“She used to get in trouble a lot,” he says, before you elbow him hard, “I mean, we used to get in trouble, she’d always drag me into it.”

“You always offered! Don’t twist the fucking story,” you shriek, and the boys laugh at your exasperation.

“Yeah anyways, she’d always find me. Still does, my partner in crime. Trouble always comes for me,” Luke murmurs, waggling his eyebrows and intertwining your fingers together. Your jaw drops and cheeks flush and Percy thinks he understands better now, but gets confused again with what you do next.

You almost slap the goddamn scar off that boy’s face.

—

It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world. -Sylvia Plath

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[satxnsupreme666]

Devil town: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x Fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You are the “daughter” of Wanda and Vision and you’re living with them in Westview, problems start to overwhelm you but Agnes is there for you all the time and you fall in love with her.

This is a romantic!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader and Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Based on the song: Devil town by Cavetown

Words: 3k+

Warnings: Family issues, angst, mentions of mind control.

Author’s note: Hello again.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it!

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Tag list: @eliscannotdance

Life’s alright in devil town

Yeah, right, no one’s gonna catch us now

When Wanda had driven the two of you to a quiet town called Eastview you didn´t understand at the time why, but you didn’t complain either, she was like a mother to you and when she had disappeared during the snap you were devastated, leaving you with just Natasha by your side and Pepper, you loved them too but it was somehow different, they were just as broken as you, and you could not really blame them, after everything the two of them were suffering just as much as you.

After Wanda came back from the snap, when she came back from dust, you were happy, completely happy, she hugged you and you hugged her back, you couldn’t contain the happy tears streaming down your face but even though she told you that everything was going to be alright now that she was back, you never thought she would create a whole town with many people trapped in there.

When Eastview changed to Westview as well as all the people living there, Wanda and you changed too, you were shocked, you couldn’t understand how she was doing all of that, you could not comprehend the great power she possessed.

When she gave you your new personality, she had made sure that your real personality remained the same, you were conscious all the time, but fragments of new memories that she had put into your mind sometimes were too much to handle. She had chosen your role as her daughter, she even put inside your mind memories of a lot of shared meals, happy family dinners with Vision as your father, and a lot of new memories that felt so real.

At the start everything was fine you felt happy that you finally had a family even if they were not real but you enjoyed it, having a home and your own room felt so nice, you had nice dinners together, just the three of you, life was really right in the town, everything was right, or at least that’s what Wanda made you feel and made you think but from time to time you couldn’t help but feel that anytime the government would try to enter to Westview, you knew they were not too keen on Wanda but your “mom” always reassured you that no one would come for her or for you, she told you that no one would ever find you.

Dad has bought a new car now

We’re fine, no one’s gonna catch us now

Agnes was a really sweet person, you liked her a lot she was always visiting you without announcement but you really didn’t mind, she would always check on you, when you first met her, was at the talent show, you were sitting in a chair right in the middle of the tiny garden where all the tables had been placed in a row, you were waiting for you “parents” to perform on stage when Agnes arrived, she had asked you if the place next to you was taken and of course you said no, you were laughing the entire time at her jokes she was a touchy person but you didn’t mind on the contrary you loved it, she was so carefree and you enjoyed her company the entire time you were there at the talent show, you wondered if that was her real personality, everyone else apart from you seemed to be under Wanda´s mind control, you didn’t like that they were under her mind control, but you never dare to say something about that to her, you knew how bad she could react so you better decided not to talk.

You were fine, everything was alright, your “parents” started to buy things for the baby and you even helped them to decorate the room, one day Agnes offered you to go with you and Wanda to buy new-born clothes, you had a great day with the two of them, Agnes linked her arm with yours all the time, from walking down the street to entering the clothing store, everyone was so kind towards you and you loved it.

The more time you passed with Agnes the more smitten you were by her, her dark-brown hair was so pretty and her blue eyes matched every outfit she worn, she was a really beautiful woman.

After not just one baby, but two arrived, and everything changed, at the start everything was fine, the babies were so sweet and even they grew up really quickly you loved them as your brothers, they called you their big sister, but your mom started to ignore you, you perfectly knew you were not her real daughter but you felt like that, at least she made you feel like that, always, and she even gave you fake memories! And now that she was not being the same with you, your personality started to change and the only one who seemed to notice this was Agnes, you were not sure how but you were grateful with her.

Agnes even started to invite you more to her house and you gladly accepted all her invitations, she could sense your mood, whenever you felt sad, she always offered you a hug and made tea for you.

Agnes and you started to hang out more and sometimes you even cooked together, from cookies to more complex meals, you felt happy with her, genuinely happy, and just for Agnes you hoped no one else could entered Westview, if having an entire town trapped under Wanda´s mind control would be necessary to be with Agnes you could ignore it a little, you really wished that no one would go after Wanda nor you.

You said something dumb again

She’s mad, at least that’s what they say

Things got worse when Wanda and Vision started to yell at each other, their fights happened constantly and you felt afraid, everything had been going great and now everything seemed to be falling apart, but why? Wanda was angry now that Vision seemed more awake and now he had his own thoughts, he wanted to know the truth but Wanda didn’t want him to know it.

“You´re saying nonsense Vis, there´s nothing outside Westview!” You saw Wanda levitating in the air

“I don’t believe you, somethings wrong here!” You heard Vision yelling back at her.

Trying to ignore them you went back to your room and when you passed by Tommy and Billy´s room you heard them whispering so you entered to look at them

“Hey what´s going on?” You asked them trying to give them a reassuring smile

“Mom´s mad because Dad said weird things, she´s angry y/n” Said Billy and you knelt in front of them to give them a hug

Mum and daddy aren’t in love

That’s fine, I’ll settle for two birthdays

“Do you think they don’t love each other anymore y/n?” You were shocked when you heard Tommy´s words

“No, no, that´s no, no c´mon they love each other deeply, they´re just having some misunderstandings, you do not have to worry, alright?” You rushed to say to him, you couldn’t believe it.

Devil town is colder in the summertime

I’ll lose my mind at least another thousand times

It was summer the sun was high in the sky and still you felt cold, how was it possible, you were supposed to feel warm on the inside no this time, but you couldn’t help it, the feeling that something would go wrong at any moment kept you awake at nights.

Sometimes you even try to separate the fake memories that Wanda had put inside your mind, but no matter how hard you try they were stuck inside your head.

When everything was too much Agnes was always there for you, you were amazed how could she always called you whenever you felt this way? She always knew when you were having a rough time and she was the only person in this town who could help you, she was the only reason why you were still sane, Agnes was the only reason you could focus on what was real and not just the memories of a happy family that didn’t exist.

Hold my hand tight, we’ll make it another night

I still get a little scared of something new

One day Wanda, Vision and the twins had left because they had gone to buy some things, and you were just hiding in your room, you were crying and you didn’t notice that someone else entered the house.

You heard gently knocks on your door and quickly you wiped your tears, afraid that it could be Wanda or the boys, you didn’t know they had already arrived, with a quietly “Come in” you heard the door being opened and when you felt a hand on your shoulder you noticed it was no one from your “family”.

Turning yourself around you saw it was Agnes and you felt happiness, she was always looking out for you so in a quickly move you threw yourself at her, you hugged her and she hugged you back, placing her arms around your waist she squeezed you and once again you started to cry, Agnes let you cry on her shoulder while kissing your forehead and stroking your hair, she was worried for you, you were not happy, you were suffering and she knew that.

You removed yourself from her body a little to look at her eyes and you felt your heart getting warm when she touched your face so gently as if she was afraid that you could break, you loved her, you have been in love with her all this time, she was the only thing that made you happy you couldn’t hold back your emotions anymore and impulsively you kissed her, you smashed your lips against her, you took her by surprise but when she reacted she kissed you back, she pressed you closer to her and you reached for her collar shirt in a way to feel her closer to you, but when she tasted tears in the kiss she opened her eyes and broke the kiss to look at you, you were crying and this time you hid your face in her chest, she knew that you still thought that she was under Wanda’s mind control so Agnes decided to tell you the truth.

But I feel a little safer when I’m with you

Falling doesn’t feel so bad when I know you’ve fallen this way too

“Y/n I have to be honest with you, but you need to promise me that after that, nothing will change between us” Said Agnes grabbing your hands into hers, she was almost pleading you and you knew you could trust her, no matter what you were going to be with her.

“I promise, I do not want to be away from you” After you said that Agnes this time left a soft kiss on your lips and even though she wanted to keep kissing you she had to tell you the truth

“Listen carefully, I have been aware the entire time, my name’s not Agnes, my real name is Agatha, Agatha Harkness and just like Wanda I’m a witch too” You gasped and you were shocked, yes she may have lied to you but at least all of her actions have been real, so what she felt for you was real.

Agnes, well Agatha looked at you carefully and slowly she brought her hand to caress your cheek it was her gentle touch what you needed the most.

“I’m really happy that you were aware all this time, I love you and I was afraid that you were just looking out for me because that was the role my mum- I mean Wanda had given to you” Suddenly you felt sad again you really loved Wanda, she was part of your family but, now you were not so sure if what she was doing was right

“It’s alright angel, I will be here for you, no matter what, I care for you, deeply and if something goes wrong, I will keep you safe, I won’t let anything happen to you, alright?”

Nodding you hugged her again, you felt safe in her arms, you trusted in her, she was real and she was the only thing that kept you away from falling, she understood you and you were happy that she had told you everything, you didn’t want anything to happen to her either, but you were sure she knew how to keep things under control, now the days wouldn’t look so dark with her.

We’re all dead in devil town

That’s fine, ‘cause nothing’s gonna scare us now

Days kept passing and the pain in the eyes of the people in Westview was more visible day after day, they were like puppets acting and moving just like Wanda pleased, she controlled every little thing in the town, and now after you saw what her powers could do, you became afraid of her, something you never thought you could feel.

But Agatha was there for you all the time no matter what she reassured you that you had nothing to be scared of.

I forgot my name again

I think that’s something worth remembering

Wanda noticed that something had changed in you, she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but she was going to make sure you didn’t plan on leaving Westview like Vision, so she tried to use her magic to make you believe that everything was fine and that you had a happier and bubbly personality, you fought of course you did, but her magic sometimes was too strong that in the worst moments you got lost on what was real and what wasn’t.

Agatha helped you in those moments, and she even used her magic to help you release the pain and the sadness that took over you, Agatha would help you to get better, with gentle kisses on your lips, a soft brush of her hand against you hair, or even just a reassuring hug she could always help you to get back to reality, you loved her so much and she loved you the same.

“It’s ok doll, this will pass, and when this ends you and I will be still together, I will keep you safe and I won’t let you fall” She would always knew what to tell you to make you feel better, she was the only one who could keep you sane, Agatha knew you were suffering and even if she wanted to get you out of Westview she knew she couldn’t risk your safety.

Spiders in your favourite shoes

Just leave them be 'cause they’re more scared of you

You still remembered that time when a resident of Westview came looking for Wanda, he was angry and he yelled at you to call for Wanda, you were not sure how he had woken up from the mind control, but he was clearly in pain, you wanted to do something to help him but you didn’t know what to do , Agatha quickly came to your side because she had sensed your scared state and she had rushed to look for you, she pulled you against her body with her hand on your waist, she stepped in front of you in a protective way, there was no chance that she would let them do something to you, it was not your fault.

“It´s ok he´s just scared, he does not know what to do” You reassured her and she hold your hand, she wanted to make sure you knew she will be always there for you.

When Wanda heard the disruption she quickly got out of the house and she put her fingers on his temple and just as fast as that he was back under her mind control, you didn’t want to see it anymore, and Agatha sensing your fear, she pressed you against her body kissing your temple, Wanda looked curiously at the two of you but she felt happy that you finally had someone else to count on to and Wanda was happy to know that Agnes would always help you if she was not there for you, Wanda loved you no matter what but lately you were no sure at all, why would she held you captive with the others if she loved you too?

Devil town is colder in the summertime

I’ll lose my mind at least another thousand times

On Halloween night you and Agatha decided to wear matching costumes, Wanda took the kids for trick or treat while you didn’t know where Vision was, you really didn’t want to hang with Wanda and instead of her Agatha asked you to pass the night with her, you had wanted to go see the limits but Agatha didn’t want you to go, you pleaded her, she couldn’t say no to you, she grabbed your hand and intertwined her fingers with yours.

Walking to Ellis avenue you noticed all the glitches in the people there, the farther you walked away from the center of Westview the darker it got, people in the limits were frozen, some of them even had fresh tears on their faces.

“Agatha this is so wrong, I want to leave, but I know Wanda will notice” You cried on her shoulder

“Look at me doll” Agatha took you by your shoulders and she wiped away the tears streaming down your face

“We will leave, tonight, I made sure Vision would come to the limits, he will try to leave, Wanda will be making sure that he doesn’t leave, we can use that time to scape, I need you to trust in me, alright?” Agatha lifted your chin to kiss your lips, it was a soft kiss you could feel the love she had for you.

“I trust you, and I love you Agatha” She felt her heart getting warmer, she would always make sure you were fine.

“I love you too sweetheart, I won´t let Wanda get to you, she would never hurt you again, alright?”

With her statement you knew you were safe with her

Hold my hand tight, we’ll make it another night

I still get a little scared of something new

She was right, Vision had tried to leave Westview but that had just made Wanda angrier, you took a glimpse of what was outside Westview, there were soldiers and you were sure they were looking for Wanda

“We won´t make it Agatha, there are hundreds of soldiers outside, we will never leave” You started to feel anxious but Agatha hold your hand tight, just with that simple yet loving action she was able to help you calm down

“We will make it my love, I told you I will make sure nothing happens to you, the soldiers will be distracted by Vision, even if they notice us leaving the town, I won´t let anything happen to you, I promise” Agatha gave a squeeze to your hand and you sighed, she was right, now you felt better.

But I feel a little safer when I’m with you

Falling doesn’t feel so bad when I know you’ve fallen this way too

Agatha wrapped her arm around your waist she had a firm but at the same time gentle grip on you, you were a little scare but her presence made you believe that everything would be fine.

When she saw Vision getting out of the magical field she took this opportunity to start walking towards the field to, when you were close to it, Agatha pressed her free hand to your temple and when you passed through the field with her, you felt a tingly sensation and a slight pressure over your body but when the feeling went away you opened your eyes again and Agatha was looking at you with a concerned look on her face, you caught a glimpse of your surroundings and you saw you were in a forest, it was dark but with her you felt safe.

“We made it sweetheart, but we have to hurry now, we don´t know what Wanda is going to do, she will do everything in her power to get Vision back and It won´t take much time when she notices that you´re gone too as well as me” Agatha gave you a soft peck on your lips and took your hand

“Let´s go, you´re free and I won let anything or anyone get to you”

Both of you started to run towards the thick forest being careful not to be seeing by the soldiers You felt loved and finally you had someone who you could call home, you were ready to start a new life with her and you were sure Wanda would feel betrayed and hurt and one day she would look for you and Agatha and even though you were scared of what she could do, you didn’t mind at all, you were safe with Agatha and she would never let anything happen to you.

You made it in time just when the field expanded, but by the time that happened you were so far away that it didn’t get to you, You felt more calm and at peace finally, you would miss Wanda and the kids, even Vision, but Wanda was hurting you, maybe it was not on purpose but she was hurting you.

You looked at Agatha and smiled at her “Thank you, oh god, we´re free, thank you so much” You pressed yourself against her and hugged her, now you could finally relax.

Agatha wrapped her arms around you and with her free hand she stroked your hair, she was sure Wanda would go after her one day, for taking you away, but that would take a long time from now on, and if she wanted to take you away from her Agatha wouldn’t let her, she was going to protect you at all costs, for now she just wanted to share her life with you, and you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life with Agatha, you could worry about Wanda later, for now you just wanted her to hold you.

[dollfacefantasy]

Video Games

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving)

summary: you're playing video games when leon feels a little needy

word count: 1.9k

a/n: hi everyone, i'm back with another piece. thank you so so much to everyone who supported my last post (especially if you reblogged and/or left a comment, hugging you through the screen rn). And if you followed me, hi! happy to have you here :) it means a lot to me, and i hope people find some enjoyment in this post as well. this post has nothing to do with the song video games, but i love lana and wanted to use that picture so idgaf. also, all the games mentioned are ones i really loved when i was younger. i'd love to hear some you guys like if you want to share. again, feedback, likes, follows, and reblogs are appreciated! <3

You were so excited when your parents called you and told you they were bringing by your old Playstation 2 today. They were cleaning out the garage and found the dusty, old box that contained the system and all your favorite games from when you were young. Leon was sitting on the couch, watching you wander around as you spoke into the phone. He had returned from a difficult mission recently and your joyful presence alone made everything seem brighter. He smiled at the ways your eyes lit up when you laughed and recalled old memories. He’d gently reach out and stroke your hip when you’d walk past the sofa, lost in your conversation.

About an hour later, you were rushing out the front door to retrieve your box of nostalgia. Leon trailed behind with his eyes full of love for you. He takes the box of stuff as you briefly talk to your mom and thank her for making the stop. He carries the box back into the house for you. It wasn’t that heavy. You definitely could have done it yourself, but he couldn’t get enough of how that sweet smile would spread across your face when you said thank you and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

The two of you set up the console together in your living room. His strong arms hold the tv at an awkward angle as you snake behind it to plug in the cords in all the different ports. His eyes can’t help but run along your body. He can’t help but notice how your shorts ride up as you bend over or how your back arches while you strain to reach the back of the screen. He’s snapped out of his lustful daze when he hears you say “Got it!” and pull back from behind the tv. He puts the monitor back in place and you hug him from behind, pressing soft kisses to his back while thanking him again for his help.

“It’s nothing, Baby,” he says softly, turning to face you and kissing the top of your head.

You smile up at him before eagerly pulling him to sit on the couch with you. You rifle through your box of old games, pulling out your beaten-up copies of Sly Cooper and Silent Hill. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as you gush to him about your favorite parts and all the fun you used to have playing them with your friends. His heart aches with the love he feels just from hearing you speak with such passion.

“Why don’t you show me some?” he suggests as you continue looking through the box on your lap.

“You want to watch me play video games?” you ask as if it’s the nicest thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be bored.”

He laughs slightly like even the idea of being bored while spending time with you was ridiculous. “C’mon, you’re all excited over this stuff, and you’re not gonna play?” he asks, “I’ll be fine. Maybe you can teach me your tricks.”

“Yeah, I’m a real pro,” you joke sarcastically, but your smile remains genuine. You decide on playing Tomb Raider and hop up to put the game in. Again, Leon can’t help how his eyes are drawn to the fabric of your bottoms tightening around your ass as you squat to insert the game. You return to your seat and get comfy against his side with his arms around your shoulder.

You start playing, your smile widening as you hear the familiar music and begin remembering the controls like the last time you played was only yesterday. Leon watches the screen as much as he can, but his real focus is on you. The way your fingers frantically mash at the buttons while fighting an enemy, how you tense and press against him when you think you’re going to die, your half-assed justifications for mistakes you make, blaming the age of the controllers. He loved you so much that his limbs nearly trembled with want for you. Everything about you drove him wild. You smelled so good and your body was so warm nestled against his.

He keeps watching you, and it’s becoming overwhelming, his desire for you. He leans his head down, brushing your hair away, and starts gently kissing the open expanse of your neck. You bite your lip as a knowing smirk rises on your face.

“I knew you’d get bored,” you tease, tilting your head a little to give him more room. He takes the invitation and moves his lips with more intent. 

“I’m not bored. I just need to feel you,” he defends between kisses, “You keep playing.” He adjusts on the couch so he’s lower and has a better angle on your neck. His arm that isn’t around you caresses your stomach slowly.

You try to focus on your game, but it’s difficult when you have his hands and lips coasting over you, his hot breath on your neck. Your own breathing hitches when his hand on your stomach slides up to fondle your tits. Your fingers start feeling useless on the controller, fumbling between buttons as you try to continue playing. His teeth scrape along your neck. It’s the last thing you can take before you make too many mistakes and die. The menu comes up to reload the game and your head falls back against the cushion.

“Leon,” you whine playfully, “You’re making me die.”

“‘M Sorry, Baby,” he mumbles, “Just can’t get enough of you.” He continues kneading your breasts and showering your neck with kisses as you try to survive the level you’re playing. Heat spreads through your body and slick begins collecting between your thighs causing you to squirm a bit. Leon smirks against your skin, sensing the effect he has on you.

He kisses your neck a few more times before he moves his mouth down your arm while easing himself onto the floor. He presses a final tender kiss to your hand gripping the controller before settling on his knees between your legs. You know what’s coming, and it causes your cheeks to tint a soft red. The sight only excites Leon more. His fingers tuck beneath the waistband of your shorts and slip them down. He lifts your lush thighs to rest on his shoulders and pulls you closer so that you're slouching against the cushions.

“Leon, I’m gonna have to start all over again,” you say, your voice softer from your arousal. You try to seem focused, but your attention to the game is waning with each of his touches.

He works his mouth along the smooth skin of your inner thighs before dragging his nose along the cloth covering your center, inhaling you. The scent sends his blood rushing to his cock. He lays a kiss to the fabric as he hums in response. “I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart. Promise.”

He hooks his finger around your panties and pulls them off. You feel his breath against your wet cunt, the sensation sending a chill through you. You take your lip between your teeth again while keeping your eyes on the television. In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring into you, gazing at you like you’re a work of art. He starts rubbing his thumb up and down your folds slowly, not with enough pressure to give you real pleasure, just the right amount to tease.

“You’re fucking soaked, Angel. Gotta have a taste,” he murmurs before swiping his tongue through your pussy. You let out a short moan at the feeling. Leon wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place as he starts to make out with your cunt. His tongue flattening and dragging against your dripping core, lapping up every drop of you he can.

Your eyes roll back and your fingers spasm on the controller before you put it to the side and grab Leon’s hair. He groans as you tug him closer, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. You whimper and buck against his face. He knows all your attention is on him now. Knowing he made you feel so good that you had to focus on him had his pants feeling even tighter. He looks up at you, his eyes clouded with lust and your slick coating his lips. 

“Taste so sweet, Baby,” he breathes, thumbing your clit as he speaks, “Could do this for hours if you let me. Have your pretty pussy cumming over and over.” 

He buries his face back into your cunt and fucks his tongue into you. You gasp and writhe above him. Your head pushes back against the couch cushions. Your thighs start to squeeze around his head, and he loves it. He pushes even deeper, nose bumping your clit as he works. You whine and your hands fly up to cover your face as your cheeks feel hot.

He gives your thigh a quick pinch and pulls back. “No hiding, sweet girl. Wanna see and hear everything you give me.”

You slide your hands down and off of your face. Before you can even think of a response, his tongue is back to flicking against you. You moan a bit louder and your eyes flutter as the band of heat in your belly starts to tighten. Your thighs quiver, and Leon’s grip on you gets stronger as your hips try to shift.

Your chest heaves with your heavy breathing as your hands press into the couch cushions. His eyes are fixed on your face, savoring every sweet noise and expression. Your body shakes harder and you know the finish is near. You look down into his eyes, and the sight of his face buried between your thighs with that intense gaze trained on you almost makes you cum on the spot.

“Fuck, Leon. I’m gonna cum. Can’t hold on,” you whimper, your eyes squeezing shut as your voice breaks into moans.

“Look at me, Baby. Let me see those gorgeous eyes while you explode,” he says before working his tongue with even more dedication. You give him what he wants, looking into his eyes as you reach the peak. You cry out and claw at the couch cushions as you release. Your hips sputter against his face and your thighs clamp around his head. Your eyes stay locked on his, letting him see how he unravels you. You hear him groaning and feel his body rolling a bit as he devours you through your orgasm.

He keeps lapping at your folds as you come down, getting a final taste before he pulls away. He plants one last kiss on your clit before rising up and leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. You kiss back and softly moan as you taste yourself on his lips. You grab his wrist as you pull back. “Need me to return the favor?’ you say and give him another kiss.

“No, Honey. I’m satisfied, trust me,” he hums and kisses back. You notice the dark spot forming on his pants and your blush returns. The thought that he could feel such pleasure simply from pleasuring you made your stomach flutter. He pulls back from your lips and strokes your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your features. “I’m gonna change my pants, and then you can show me some more of your game. If you want to,” he says.

You glance back at the tv which had been displaying the reload menu for a while at this point. You give him that smile that he loved so much and nod.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: get ready for the hate.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller. 

“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you. 

You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed. 

“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.” 

“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.” 

“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.  

“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.” 

“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says. 

“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?” 

“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.” 

You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester. 

“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers. 

“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.” 

“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...” 

“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.” 

“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...” 

“A con? Oh, wow--” 

“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?” 

“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.” 

“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...” 

You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no. 

“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly. 

The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones. 

“Jacob?” You murmur. 

“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.” 

“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.” 

“Yeah, totally,” you agree.  

You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track. 

“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.” 

“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.” 

“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.” 

“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...” 

“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.” 

“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.” 

You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation. 

🎮

You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive. 

You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell. 

It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was. 

“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.  

She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed. 

You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home. 

You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.  

You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message. 

‘Hey, you home?’ 

‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’ 

‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’ 

‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’ 

You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊' 

Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears. 

‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’ 

You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side. 

‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’ 

You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face. 

🎮

You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund. 

After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky. 

‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order. 

You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds. 

‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’ 

‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

You sigh.  

‘Time got ahead of me.’ 

‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’ 

‘Sure. Tmrw.’ 

You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe. 

As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful. 

🎮

“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.” 

“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.” 

He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts. 

“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks. 

“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?” 

He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up. 

“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.  

“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.” 

“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.” 

“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game. 

It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing. 

“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.” 

“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.” 

“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.” 

“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead. 

Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart. 

Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work. 

Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it. 

[hopepetal]

Hi!

So @applestruda and I have been working on a little thing for the boatem knights au. I hope you enjoy this next arc of the story as much as we do.

You can find the masterlist of the previous bkau fic here, and I will be posting this on ao3 as well.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

Impulse was painfully, bitterly, human. Just a normal guy, with normal hair and normal eyes and friends that were anything but. Even Mumbo, who he'd thought to be his one human companion, turned out to be something different. Something special.

When it had finally been revealed to the knights that Mumbo was, in fact, a shapeshifter, no one was really surprised. With the amount of non-humans in the group, and magically gifted ones besides, it was only a matter of time before Mumbo revealed that he was obviously, not human.

While they were all joking around and laughing over Mumbo's newly revealed ability, Scar had turned to Impulse with that friendly smile of his and asked, “So, when are you gonna reveal your super secret backstory to us, Impulse?”

Impulse had laughed off the pang of bitterness and guilt combined (and how stupid was that, feeling guilty over the fact that he didn't have a special ability or secret backstory to reveal?) and shook his head. “Nah,” he had responded with a shrug, “I'm just a guy. Just Impulse.”

Just a guy. Just Impulse. 

Simple words that had become a mantra over the past few days, lingering in the back of Impulse's mind. A whispered chant, just audible enough to catch his attention but hardly loud enough to deserve a shushing. They were an apt description of what he was– of who he was, of course, and Impulse knew that. He had known that all his life, and, up until this point, had convinced himself that he was fine with that.

(He never had been ‘fine’ with it in the first place. It’s why he trained from dawn till dusk for years, honing his strength and skills. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t withstand a fiery blaze, and most certainly couldn’t teleport. But he was smart, and he was strong, and that was enough. Wasn’t it?)

Mumbo was good with redstone, too. He was a genius, even. What with his constant inventions and how he thought outside of the traditional redstone conventions, and the way he brushed off any compliments with a wave and a soft, “It’s quite simple, really.” 

Impulse’s mother had told him that everyone was special. That they were all made up of stardust and the love of the universe. It was an old wive’s tale, but it had been comforting. 

Now, surrounded by shapeshifters and avians and magical beings, Impulse was wondering if the universe forgot to give him a little stardust.

The sun had just begun to rise, bathing the world in its golden light, as Impulse got dressed and headed out to the makeshift training area to work on his swordplay. It wasn’t long before he was hacking away at one of the many training dummies the knights had made together in an effort to “work on their arts and crafts skills”, going through the familiar motions of a swordfight. 

Just a guy. Just Impulse. 

He’d always wondered what it was like to fly. To dive deep into the ocean, without fear of drowning. To never feel the terrible pain of burns, or to get to where you wanted to be instantly.

Just a guy. Just Impulse. 

It wasn’t like being a human was bad. Not at all! Being human was great! He didn’t have to worry about getting hurt by the rain, or his wings being targeted in battle, or, void forbid, being hunted for sport. He could do so much as a human! 

But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

Just a guy.

Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he continued fighting, his breaths coming in short pants. In his mind’s eye, the training dummy was an enemy, and it was his job to defeat it. Slicing and stabbing and slashing, Impulse went back and forth in a dance all his own, in a battle that held no weight on the future. 

Just–

“Impulse?”

Pulled from his reverie, Impulse stumbled to a rather clumsy halt, his sword arm falling to his side as he looked over for who called his name. Standing at the edge of the arena was Pearl, leaning against the little wooden fence that surrounded it. She wore a bright smile as always, but something akin to concern shone in her eyes, barely hidden.

“Huh?” Impulse got out, before blinking and shaking his head. “Sorry, Pearl, I uh– I didn’t see you there. Were you calling me?” His muscles were aching, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat. Just how long had he been training for?

Pearl nodded. “Yeah, mate. You were fighting that dummy with the intention to kill, huh?” she joked, gesturing to the very much falling apart training dummy. She continued, “You were training for a while. Lost in your own world, were ya?”

Impulse glanced up at the sky, internally wincing at how high the sun had climbed without him noticing. “Yeahhh…” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda got caught up in my own thoughts, y’know.” He looked over at the training dummy. “Uh… sorry, mister dummy,” he apologized awkwardly, which Pearl found hilarious judging by her soft laughter. 

“You should come get some breakfast and wash up,” Pearl advised, “I’m heading to the village in a bit to pick up some stuff– do you wanna come with?”

Impulse shrugged, before walking over to where Pearl was and hopping the fence. “Sounds like fun, and I don’t have anything else planned.” 

Pearl grinned, and gave Impulse a fistbump. “Great! I’ll go get the horses ready, if you wanna go eat and change real quick?”

“Will do!” Impulse gave her an over the top salute. “Thanks, Pearl!” 

He began to head back to his tent at a slow jog, and decided that maybe it was best if he ignored that soft voice in his head. His friends were incredibly perceptive, and the last thing that he wanted was for them to get all worried about him and start asking questions. 

Would they judge you? Call you jealous? 

Maybe. And maybe Impulse was jealous, at least a little. Did that make him a bad person? For wishing he could be more than what he was? For hoping that he had some chance at standing on the same level as his friends?

Impulse tried to shake those thoughts out of his head as he quickly scarfed down some breakfast and changed out of his sweat-soaked training clothes. Pearl had just finished with getting the horses ready by the time Impulse returned, and greeted him with a smile. “Ready to go?”

Impulse returned her grin as he mounted his horse. “You know it. Road trip time!” 

The trip to the village was a short but pleasant ride through the forest, on a well-worn path the knights had traveled many times. Impulse and Pearl made idle conversation as they rode, Pearl mentioning that she wanted to stop by a couple of shops and the library. They arrived at the village after about thirty minutes and dismounted, tying their horses reins to the hitching post before grabbing their bags and walking into the village.

Impulse had been here before, of course, but visits had been rare recently with… well, everything that had happened. It was nice to get back out and just walk through the village, without any life-threatening or world-ending danger looming over their heads. And as a bonus, he got to hang out with Pearl, which he always enjoyed. 

They went through the shops one by one, Pearl picking up supplies and things they had run out of. Eventually, they were finished, and Pearl pulled Impulse rather excitedly toward the library. He didn’t blame her– he was the exact same way around candy shops. Everyone needed a place that they were excited to go to, in his opinion. 

The librarian– a woman with messy black hair– looked up from behind the counter and greeted them with a nod, before going back to reading her book. Impulse caught a glimpse of the name tag that was pinned to her shirt, the name ‘Evelyn’ written in neat cursive. 

Pearl led Impulse into a room full of bookshelves and, of course, books. “I’m going to go look for some books,” she whispered to him, “you can go off and see if there’s anything that catches your eye.”

Impulse nodded. “Alright. See you in a bit,” he whispered back, and watched Pearl disappear into the maze of bookshelves. 

Looking around, Impulse began to wander. The library was well stocked with literature on nearly every subject he could think of, with golden labels on the end of every bookshelf to indicate what the books in that particular section were about. He found himself walking past the shelves that normally would’ve had his attention– books about redstone and industry ignored as he gazed at the shelves. 

Finally, a particular bookshelf caught his eye. The label told him that the books here were about all things supernatural, and with a shrug, he began to walk through the aisle. Most books seemed to be rather thick, scholarly texts, which made sense given the topic. A couple books drew his attention– an old book with a faded purple cover and block letters that spelled out Evolution in all capitals, a book on curses, and a book that probably had been misplaced, given its title– The Legend of Theseus. The mythology shelf was right next to the supernatural one, so Impulse took the book and brought it back to where it was hopefully supposed to be. 

Once the book was back in the mythology section– next to a very old book with a cracked spine and strange symbols on the cover– Impulse headed back to the supernatural section, glancing over the titles with relative disinterest until a particular book caught his eye. He bent down and carefully took it from the shelf, instinctively brushing off the cover and flipping it open to the cover page. Skimming the summary of the book, Impulse found himself nodding along to the words.

He closed the book and glanced around. Pearl was nowhere to be seen, so he likely still had some time. Tucking the book under his arm, Impulse walked back to the main room of the library, placing the book on the counter. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and Evelyn looked up from her book. “I’d like to check this out, please.” 

Evelyn took the book, looking at the spine and writing down something on the sheet in front of her. “An’ what’s your name, sir?” she asked, not looking up from the sheet. 

Impulse blinked. “Ah– uh, Impulse.”

Evelyn wrote his name down, before setting her red feather pen down and handing him the book. “Alright, sir. If you’d please return this by the end of next month, and no writin’ or rippin’ any pages out unless you wanna pay for it.”

Impulse took the book and placed it in his bag with a thank you, just as Pearl returned with her collection of books. She gave him a smile, which Impulse returned– albeit a little nervously. 

As they were walking out of the library, Pearl asked Impulse if he had seen anything he liked. Impulse answered with a shrug and a shake of his head. “Nah. I’m not much of a reader.”

Something must’ve spooked the horses while they were gone, as Impulse’s horse was clearly nervous when they returned. He calmed the horse down with a bit of petting and a treat Pearl had bought for their horses before mounting up and beginning the journey back home.

It was a little past noon when they returned, and they were greeted by Scar and a barely awake Grian. Mumbo was busy working on something, but he soon ran over to say hi and help with the supplies and horses. 

The rest of the day went by as normally as it could– it was a calm day for the most part, the only “mishap” being Grian stealing Mumbo’s rocket launcher as revenge for drawing a mustache on him while he slept. They all ate dinner together as they usually did, and after, Impulse left to go to his tent.

Finally alone and in the quiet, Impulse took the book out from his bag, brushing his fingers over the title. 

The Art of Summoning - Demons. 

He opened the book.

Obviously, a book given out at a library wasn’t about to teach him how to summon a demon– void knows he didn’t want to do that, anyway– but Impulse had always been fascinated by demons. He had been told a lot of stories as a child, which probably was the reason for his interest, but there was also… something else. He had been drawn– pulled to this book, almost. As if by magic, or something. 

…some demons can grant their summoner a wish– whether it be super strength, speed, or even flight, there have been records of people making a contract with a demon for their own benefit. When asked why, many of their answers were similar. They wanted to be unique, or special, and had become desperate.

That… sounded familiar. Impulse pressed his lips together in a thin line as he continued to read. He obviously wasn’t desperate enough to summon a demon– he doubted he would even be able to if he wanted to! Which he didn’t. Because that would be crazy. 

As he went to turn the page, a sharp pain shot through the tip of his finger. Impulse sucked in air through his teeth as he yanked his hand away, examining the fresh papercut. “Oh, come on…” He shook out his hand, annoyed, before going to flip the page. 

As soon as he touched the book, Impulse found that his fingers were almost glued to the page. He couldn’t pull away, couldn’t pull the book off his hand, though he tried frantically to do so. It was then that he noticed a small bead of blood had welled up from the cut, and smeared on the page when he had gone to flip it again. 

That… was probably bad.

Just as he was considering calling for help, a soft voice spoke up in his mind. Not soft enough to be inaudible, but not loud enough to be quieted. 

Hello.

Impulse tensed up, looking around the tent. “...I didn’t mean to summon you,” he began, “assuming you’re…?”

A demon? The voice was… quite pleasant, actually. Not like anything Impulse had thought a demon would sound like. Yes, I am one. And you haven’t summoned me. Just drawn my attention. I’ve been trapped in this book for quite some time, you see. It’s been a long while since anyone has opened it.

“Why were you trapped inside the book?” Impulse asked, still on edge. “What did you do?”

Well, that’s rude. The demon sounded as if it were pouting, as if Impulse had offended it. I didn’t do anything. I just… It sighed, and its voice took on a tone of loneliness. I was young when I came to this world. I… wanted to be different, I guess, from the rest of the demons. Everyone had this cool thing going for them… one could curse multiple people at once, one could take human form, and everyone else… had something that made them special. I didn’t. I’m just your regular ol’ demon, residing in your thoughts.

Impulse frowned, settling the book carefully on his lap. “So… why did you get put in the book?”

I’m getting to that. I… got excited. I wanted to show everyone that I was special, too, by cursing someone. I didn’t really think things through. The demon paused. I don’t even want to curse someone, anymore. I just want to go home.

“I’m… sorry…” Impulse began, “that sounds really rough.” He sighed, leaning back slightly. “I get it, though, as crazy as that sounds.” He briefly debated on whether or not he should tell someone– a demon, no less– about what he’d been going through. “I’m… the only human in my friend group,” he started, hesitant, “and it’s just… I’ve always been just a guy. Just Impulse. And no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to change that.”

There was a moment of silence, and Impulse could almost feel the demon thinking. Well… maybe you could. Maybe, we could both help each other out.

Impulse’s brow furrowed. “What are you thinking of?” 

I know, you were against summoning demons earlier, but… hear me out, okay? I could tell you how to summon me, and not only would that free me from this book, but I could also maybe grant your wish! 

The demon sounded… genuinely so excited at the prospect of being freed. Being trapped, all alone, for however long it had been, must’ve been really difficult. Impulse didn’t blame the demon for wanting to be free. He would want the same thing, were he in the demon’s position. 

…and maybe, just maybe, a small, selfish part of him spoke up and influenced his reasoning. But Impulse closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. “Alright. I’ll help you. Tell me how to summon you.”

Excellent choice! Alright, first things first, you’re going to…

Impulse was painfully, bitterly human.

He refused to be just Impulse forever. 

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 84 

Oh what a wonderful day! Why? BECAUSE I FINALLY GET TO SAY THE LAST OF MY STUPID ARBITRARY RULES! The Final Arbitrary Rule is: No Crossing Over with Other Franchises! Which I very clearly fuckin’ broke here!

I wanted to do my best to only make pieces working with just the base of Junkan itself, and AU’s I made had to be original and not just “What if Junkan but it’s in X series.” That way when I finished the project a bunch of new doors would open up for me to have fun with! I know last time we had Alice in Wonderland, but given the public domain nature of that story I don’t find it to be an infraction of the rule. There’s a future day coming up that also kiiiind of breaks it? But also i feel like it’s a slightly different case, not sure how to explain it while you can’t see it. None of that matters because today we have a blunt, no fucking around breaking of that rule, and why?

Listen I’ve seen some of ya’ll draw/write Junko and Mikan as Pokemon Trainers while waiting for this day to get posted, surely you understand. I’ve been wanting to draw a pic of these two with full teams for months at this point in the projects making, I couldn’t wait any longer, it was a moment of weakness!!!

Designing the outfits for these two was super fun. Once again I’ve fucking put Mikan in a Sweater, and this time it doubles as a dress! Will I ever be stopped? 

That does generally bring me to the thoughts I’m having in hindsight months after this pic, I think Junko’s side is on the weaker side. I like her fit though I might make small edits to it whenever the next time I draw her is. But the main thing is I think the team I put together is kind of lacking??

Mikan’s? I’m perfectly happy with, Frillish is just there because she vibes aesthetically with Mikan, Blissey is obvious, Lampent because it’s associated with hospitals due to floatin around them to steal life energy, Clefable I can explain in a second but it’s probably obvious, Spinda because she needs a cute buddy to be clumsy with, but my favorite was giving her an Applin.

Like the whole thing with Applin is that giving one to someone as a gift is a declaration of Love. So of course Junko would do that, she’s all about that shit (in my brain at least). I think it’s cute!

Junko’s half of things though, if I’m gonna be real a few months later I’d probably only keep two of them and just try to remake the rest of the team. Gengar (who is also the reason Mikan has a Clefable, I love that old fan theory), because he’s my favorite pokemon and I think he just vibes really well with Junko. And Hydreigon, because Junko deserves a giant nightmare dragon. 

This is another instance of me concocting something for this project and then not being able to draw any more of it because I have to wait for it to be posted. So now, assuming I have time, I can finally draw the Pokemon AU!~ Like I said i’ll probably do some minor reworks, and then some major reworks on Junko’s end. No idea when it’ll be but look forward to it I suppose!~ 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Two - Backpack, Backpack

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Mentions of Bucky’s ‘Old Life’, talks about slight “Violence” (Bucky’s past), talks of a first aid kit, feeling “scared” about being a little, fluff! Obviously! 

Word Count - 2164

Note - I've finished all of Bub and Buck's story now, and I have to say it's been crazy going back and blending chapters/blurbs together to create a more cohesive story. It's been fun, and crazy, and honestly I missed this little place that I loved so much. Cafe BigNSmall is the beginning of so much, not just this account. It was the first little writing thing I put out that really got traction and that led me to where I am now. Going to school in January for creative writing, beginning the process of writing my own book. This little fic that has brough comfort to so many, myself included, is so much bigger than just a fanfiction or just a writing process and I'm so thankful for everyone who has stuck by my side, who has liked, reblogged, and sent asks about it. I love every one of you, I love who you've helped me become, and I've loved every minute of re-writing this series and I hope you love re-reading, or even reading it for the first time. I just have so so so much love in my heart for this and for you <3

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Bucky sat at his same table for the umpteenth time, but this time he sat with a smile knowing someone was on their way to sit with him. For the first time in a while Bucky wasn’t sitting and watching everyone while feeling jealous, instead he watched as a Caregiver hugged their Little and felt hopeful that he might get to have that one day. 

“MR!” Y/n yelled from the entrance like she couldn’t believe he was there, sitting at their table ready for whatever she wished to do. “Hi!” She smiled at him when she got to the table, her usual overalls and t-shirt combo covered by a heavy sweater. He was happy she had covered up more than yesterday, the sky grey instead of blue, and the colder. 

“Hi.” He smiled back, Bucky was sure he looked goofy with how big his smile was but he didn’t care. “Chilly?” He asks as he watches them shiver slightly when the finally sit down. 

“Yeah.” Y/n tilts her head to the side as she seems to contemplate something. “I think ‘m gonna get a hot chocolate.” She rummages around her bag before finding her wallet and pulling out a five dollar bill. Bucky was quicker though, already on his feet and in the line. “What are you gonna get?” Y/n asks as she joins him in the line. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get a hot chocolate too.” He looks down at her, a silly grin on her face as she nods her head. “Their cake pops look good too.” Bucky points to the glass case full of baked goods and premade sandwiches. 

“I know!” Y/n practically jumps. “I had one once.” They frown. “But I never have enough moneys for one, maybe next week I’ll get one.” They nod their head, agreeing with their idea. 

Bucky already planned on buying Y/n a cake pop, but wanted to make sure she actually did like them. Finding out she’s only had one because she can’t afford them has him vowing to always buy her one whenever she’s here. 

The money Bucky got from the government after his treatment went public often sits in his bank account unused, he has what he needs, and most of what he wants, and he hates spending the money on useless things. Yet as he watches Y/n’s eyes flicker to the case full of sweet treats with a frown on their face he’s happy to know he finally has something, someone worth spending money on. 

“Hi, what can I get you today?” The barista smiles at Bucky, giving an extra sweet grin and a wave to Y/n. 

“Can I get two medium hot chocolates, please?” Bucky places his hand on Y/n’s shoulder to get her attention before asking. “What kind of cake pop do you want Bub?” 

“I can’t.” They shrug their shoulders, clearly not aware that Bucky’s already ordering for her. 

“I’m buying you one. Which one do you want, Bub?” He adds some clarification, leaning down slightly to be at Y/n’s height, pointing to the cake pops in the case. “I love vanilla, I think I’ll get a vanilla one.” He says, hoping that him getting one will make Y/n feel less nervous. 

She begins playing with her hands, twisting her fingers together, something Bucky’s noticed she does when anxious. “Um, I like chocolate.” She whispers, looking back at Bucky with weary eyes. “But I don’ wan’ you to buy it, I -” Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence, instead he stands and orders both cake pops before paying. 

With both hands on Bub’s shoulders he moves them over to the wait station. “When you’re with me I’ll be the one buying things, okay?” His tone is sweet but also somehow firm, hoping his words make sense and are final, but also hoping he doesn’t seem too overbearing. 

“Like a, like when.” Bub stumbled over her words before turning around to face Bucky, his hands dropping from her shoulders only for her to grab his left, glove covered, hand to fidget with it like she does hers. “Like a caregiver?” She asks, finally meeting Bucky’s glance. 

“Exactly like that.” Bucky nods. “I’ll act like your caregiver when we’re together, okay?” He regrets using the word ‘act’ the moment he says it, Y/n somberly nodding at his words. He wants to be her caregiver all the time, he doesn’t want to just act as one while around her, but he met her yesterday. Neither of them know each other well enough for that kind of trust, yet Bucky seems to feel like they both are on the same wavelength. Like they’ve waited long enough for someone to be their other, why wait a little longer. 

“I’d like tha’.” Y/n nods, turning back around in Bucky’s arms to wait for their cake pop and hot chocolate. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

For a whole week Bucky and Bub met up everyday, getting hot chocolate and cake pops. Y/n kept giving Bucky colouring pages to take home with her signature at the bottom, his fridge now covered in them after a frantic late night trip to buy magnets. Walking into his house and seeing the fridge coloured in pictures made him love the fact that he bought a huge fridge able to store at least another week's worth of pictures without having to remove anymore of the ones he’s already been given. 

“Hi, Mr!” Y/n smiled as she sat down on her booth seat, her backpack placed on the table as she got comfortable. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” Bucky unpackaged her cake pop and placed it on a napkin, sliding it over to her along with her hot chocolate. “Careful it’s hot.” Bucky warned as Bub went straight for her drink the moment it was in her line of sight. 

“Otay.” She blew a breath onto the cup, though Bucky wasn’t sure how helpful her hot puff of air would be in cooling it down, instead pulling it back to himself and blowing cold air on it for her. “Here.” She placed a piece of paper onto the table. 

This picture wasn’t one from a colouring book, but one on regular plain paper, drawn by Y/n and coloured by her to. Two figures stood hand in hand with a box of crayons in the middle. One person was obviously Bucky, the other Y/n. Even if he couldn’t tell Bub had written their names “Mr” and “Bub” below each of their persons. “I love it.” Bucky smiled, sliding the, now less hot, hot chocolate back to Y/n, her taking a sip immediately and humming in content. “I’ll have to put in on my fridge.” He said aloud, though he meant to keep the words to himself, not sure if it was wrong to admit he had grown attached to Y/n enough to want her pictures on his fridge. 

“Really?” Her usually playful voice grew serious, her eyes filled with tears. “My drawing?” 

“Yeah, Bub.” He smiled, glad she seemed happy over the idea. “I have a few of your drawings on my fridge already.” He admitted. Before he could place it in his bag Y/n was up and out of her seat sliding into Bucky’s booth before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Oh.” Bucky lets out a surprised sigh. 

“I like you, you nice.” Y/n said as she pulled away, though didn’t leave the booth. 

“You’re nice too, Bub.” Bucky said in disbelief. He knew the two of them were making good steps towards fully being comfortable around one another, Y/n seemed to slip further and further into regression, showing she felt safe around Bucky, and she had even asked him if he was the Winter Soldier and hadn't run when he said yes. But he hadn’t expected her to feel comfortable enough to hug him, yet he wasn’t going to argue or complain. 

Y/n eyed his bag for a minute or so before asking a question. “Wha’s in your bag?” She asked, this being the first time she had truly seen it. 

“I’ll show you what’s in my bag, if you show me what’s in yours?” He offered, having been wondering what she brought with her to the cafe everyday. “Deal?” He asked, and she perked up, agreeing before sliding out and back onto her seat, something Bucky frowned at. 

“Otay!” Bub squealed, opening her green backpack before digging around a little bit. The first thing she pulled out was a small zipper pouch, the fabric printed with frogs and plants. “This has m’ keys, an’ my phone.” She pulled both out, her phone being secured in a bag inside her bag making sense as to why it took her so long to find it when her alarm went off. “An’ it has my tic tacs in it! D’ you wan’ one?” She asked with a smile, holding out tropical tic tacs to Bucky. 

“I’m okay, but thank you Bub.” He smiled, proud of her manners and willingness to share her things. He knew he couldn't take credit for her good behaviour, or her manners. She was a sweet girl even if he didn’t remind her here and there of her manners, yet he was still extremely proud of her. 

“M’kay.” Bub nodded her head, popping a few tic tacs in her mouth before moving on. “Dis, um, dis is my frog.” Bub’s once very confident attitude dulled slightly as she brought the frog stuffie out, like she was waiting for someone to say something rude. 

“He’s very cute.” Bucky reassured her, his hand brushing against the stuffed animal's foot, his fur in perfect condition. “What’s his name?” 

Y/n still seemed on alert, but opened up a little more. “I call him Green Bean.” She pats his head. 

“That’s a perfect name.” Bucky chuckles, loving how creative his Bub is. “Where did you get his outfit?” He asks, referring to the knitted overalls and t-shirt, identical to Y/n’s everyday outfit. 

“I made dem!” Bucky was happy to see her peppy spark come back as she spoke about her stuffy. Giving him the rundown on how she made them, and made clothing for all her other stuffies at home. Then she gave him the rundown on a bunny stuffie she really wanted that was identical to the one she has at home. Though “He’s no’ the same Mr! He’s a different colour!” something Bucky quickly made a mental note of. 

Bub only had her wallet and a sweater stuffed at the bottom of her bag, and a small bag of long forgotten goldfish that Bucky immediately threw out left to show. “Your turn.” Y/n reminded Bucky, gesturing to his backpack. 

“Well.” He started, opening his bag, pulling out his wallet, keys and phone. “These are the things I have on me at all times.” He said, watching Y/n pick up his keys and fiddle with them, clearly loving his accumulated keychain and key combo from the last 100 years. “Then I have a First Aid Kit.” He pulls out a bulky box, a few things banging around inside. 

“In case someone ge’s hurt?” Y/n asks, concern dripping from her expressions. 

“Exactly.” Bucky answers, though he doesn’t admit that he mainly carries it out of fear that he’ll hurt someone and need to patch them up, but he hopes that Y/n’s just thinking about scrapes and small cuts and not the carnage he’s left behind. 

“Do you have princess bandaids?” She asks with all seriousness. 

“I have princess ones, paw patrol, and starwars.” He playful one ups her, the two of them laughing before he continues. “Then I have extra crayons, colouring pages, and a couple water bottles.” He pulls out the extra things, Y/n’s hands immediately going to the colouring pages. 

“Can I do this one, please?” She asks, bouncing in her seat, her frog underneath her arm. 

“Of course, Bub.” He smiles, the frog page she chose the one he printed off last night in the hopes to give it to her. 

After the small show and tell the two of them sat together eating their cake pops and drinking their hot chocolate. Everytime he looked up Bucky realised just how lucky he was, to have found a Little who was as chill as Bub was, and as sweet as she was too. He realised that while he wished he could have met her sooner, he was happy he waited. 

“Why don’t we go to the park tomorrow?” He asked, thinking it could be good for them to get out somewhere other than just the cafe. 

“Yes!” Y/n practically jumped out of her seat at the idea, the two of them chatting about how excited they were for their adventure tomorrow.

[ily-fictional-women]

Date Me?

Summary: Not so close coworkers to friends. But with a caring bond like that, it's kind of hard to love someone just as a friend. 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: None that I know of, but if I should add anything let me know! 

Word count: 1104

a/n: Reader and Wanda are the same age post Age of Ultron I just couldn’t find a good source for her age around that time. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

There was a gunshot for comedic sake on the show Wanda was watching, and suddenly she was back there. The day that about seven gunshots took him away from her, her brother. The first week without him was a blur, and all it took was the sound of a gunshot to bring her back into that blur. Her breath quickened with tears starting to stream as she slowly moved her knees to her chest in a sitting fetal position. 

The room continued to feel smaller by the second, but then she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She was worried it was Steve entering to give her another one of his generic pep talks– but a relief washed over her when she realized it wasn’t him. The words didn’t come clearly to Wanda

till she brushed a hand against Wanda’s jaw motioning for her to look at her. 

“Hey, hey, you’re having a panic attack. I’m gonna ask you a few questions alright?” Wanda nodded her throat still feeling tight. “Good, okay, what’s your name?” She stuttered, her breath shaky, “Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” Y/n rubbed her back gently, “Good, good. You’re doing great. Okay, now, what are two favorite colors?” 

“Red and orange.” As she answered Wanda noticed that her tears were still falling but they became slower, and so had her breathing. “That’s cool, you’re doing amazing. One more question that’s all okay? What’s a show you like?” 

“Bewitched.” Her breathing had finally regulated, and when it came to the crying all that was left was a few tears she quickly wiped away with her long sleeve. “Better?” Y/n asks with a soft smile. Wanda nods, “Yeah actually thanks.” Y/n lets her eyes wander around Wanda’s room but puts her focus back on her, “Do you want to be left alone now.” 

Wanda twists around the hem of her sleeve in her hand, “No, not really.” Y/n sets her hand that was on Wanda’s back down onto the bed they had both been sitting on watching the TV that was still playing, "Okay, that's fine."

"Can you remind me what your name is again?" She looks back at Wanda that soft smile coming back faintly, "Y/n. We didn't get much time to talk the last few times we were around each other." Wanda stammers at the reply, "I- uh. I didn't do anything to you those first few times did I?" 

Y/n quickly shakes her head, "No, and I wouldn't be mad right now if you did." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you were doing what you thought was right. It wasn't your fault you were misled." Wanda looks down at her hands, biting the inside of her cheek a little. She hadn't had these powers for long and she already caused so much pain and chaos with them. 

Y/n could tell she was starting to spiral, or at least get lost in her own world, "Hey. The rest of the team was planning on ordering takeout and watching a movie soon. Did you want to come with me? It might feel good to get out of your room for a little." 

To most people, Wanda would have said no. But with Y/n, it felt a little easier, better, and less forced. "Sure." 

“Look at Maximoff out of her room and everything.” Clint grinned, followed by a quick glare from Y/n when Wanda’s back was turned. “Where is everyone?” Wanda scans the large living room, besides Clint the only people left were Sam and Bucky. Clint shrugs, “Last minute mission or something,” he smiles cynically. “And I was planning on going back to Laura and the kids because you all annoy me.” 

Y/n takes Wanda’s hand in hers dragging her to the couch, “Love you too old man.” After a few murmurs from Sam and Bucky with confirmation they weren’t going to stay for the movie and Clint finally leaving that left Wanda and Y/n alone. “So, do you have any movie suggestions?” Wanda curls up into a nearby blanket shrugging, “No. You have any ideas?” 

Y/n pauses tapping the remote against her chin trying to think. “Oh! Have you ever seen Enchanted?” 

“No, what’s it about?” Immediately Wanda could see Y/n’s eyes light up, “Basically this animated princess winds up in the real world, in Manhattan, and its about all the craziness that happens because of it!” Wanda tries to hold back a big smile at Y/n’s excitement, “Sounds perfect.” 

Midway through the movie Wanda turned over to Y/n, “Can we do this again? It’s just nice.”  

“Yeah, yeah that’d be great.” 

// 

For a few months, Wanda had gotten closer to Y/n. Although to her realization it wasn’t as close as she wanted. The first time she realized this was when she was during another movie watch. It was the way she slowly grazed her hand against hers before holding it. Or the way she could be so reassuring after missions. 

“How do I tell her I like her?” Clint groaned at the question, “What does this have to do with the mission report?” Wanda pleaded, “Please.” Clint hopelessly closed her laptop. “Do you know if she likes you back?” 

Wanda shrugged, “I don’t know maybe.” Clint raised an eyebrow, “Can’t you read minds?” 

“Yeah, technically, it’s complicated around her.”   

“Well, then the best you can do is be honest with her. Hope for the best.” Wanda sunk into her chair, “Amazing.”  

// 

“You ready for movie night?” Y/n stood outside Wanda’s door, a blanket already draped over her shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be down a minute.” 

“Well don’t take too long I picked a good one.”

Watching the movie was nice, but the closeness was nicer. Gathering up the confidence to ask Y/n she gently squeezed her hand for her to look at her instead of the movie Y/n put on earlier. "What's up Wands?" Typically the hand squeeze was a sign she was nervous, which wasn’t totally false. "What if we went on like a date? Maybe to like a bookstore?" Y/n looked at Wanda cluelessly, "What are you saying, Wanda?" 

Her tone went quieter, "What if we dated? Like more than friends." A small smile crept onto Y/n’s lips "I'd like that." The moment would have been nicer if it weren’t for Sam, "HOLD UP!" Sam said dramatically from a distance getting closer. "So the two of you weren't dating this whole time?!" Y/n looked at him confused, "No why?" Sam facepalmed groaning, "I just lost $20 to Bucky."

[its-desca]

People post their fics on tumblr sometimes. Right.

Uhhh anyways Engiespy fic below the cut where they are both aspec. 3.5k words.

Link to Ao3 version in reblogs because I don’t trust tumblr not to hide the post if I add a link. I’m gonna write one more short chapter so you can go bookmark it there if u wanna see that 👍

Late nights in Dell’s workshop weren’t supposed to go like this.

He and Spy had been sitting on opposite ends of his old, worn couch. Spy always insisted on taking the more intact side of the cushion, waxing on about Dell’s poor choice of interior decor, but it only ever made the shorter man laugh, as he knew Spy would always show for their Friday movie nights. They’d settle in, sometimes Dell would crack open a couple beers (for himself of course, Spy hated the stuff), and the two would relentlessly criticize each and every aspect of whatever they were watching, laughing all the while. It was the perfect way to end off a usually stressful week, and with Dell’s insistence to take as many late nights as possible working, it was also the only time he’d get anywhere near eight hours of sleep. Mostly.

This was one of those nights. The film had ended a few moments before, the credits beginning to silently slide by.

“Well, that was stupid,” Dell started, stretching his arms back and yawning. “I mean, seriously, when they blew that guy up the trajectory of his limbs was completely wrong. And did you even see that effect for the shotgun blast? Ridiculous! It’s like he got shot with twelve lil’ pistols, that ain’t what shells look like in the slightest, right?”

His short ramble was returned with silence, and after a moment Dell furrowed his brow, turning to look at his friend. Spy loved accosting the poor special effects directors, it wasn’t like him to spare even an inch of criticism at any chance he got. But when Dell looked over, he was surprised to find Spy staring straight back at him, his dull blue eyes locked onto him with a strange look.

“Spy?” Dell asked, concern edging into his tone. “You alright there, partner?”

Spy took a deep breath and reached over, gently taking the engineer’s hand. It was such a soft, intimate motion, that Dell immediately froze up, a faint blush starting to creep over his features. Oh no.

“Dell,” Spy said softly. “You’re… a very wonderful man.”

Dell hadn’t known there was a good kind of blush back when he was young, flitting from girl to girl at his fathers insistence, desperately trying to cling to the vestiges of every relationship he could manage to find. “You’re just flustered,” he’d been told when he brought this up. He’d convinced himself yes, that’s what it was. It was not an easy feat.

“We have been convening for quite some time now and… well… I have recently begun to see something different in you,” Spy continued. He seemed intent on maintaining eye contact through what he was saying, but Dell could tell he was struggling.

“And that is…?” Dell laughed nervously. Please. Please no.

“I… I believe I am in love with you Dell. I would like to know if you feel the same.”

Dell opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words, panic welling in his chest. It was over. Every good thing he and Spy had, every conversation, every joke, every cheap beer and fancy glass of wine, every long night in his workshop, every early morning chatting on the balcony, had all amounted to nothing. Again. It always ended this way.

Spy let out a breath after a moment, seeming to take his hesitance as an answer. The look in his eyes hurt more than anything he could have said. He leaned back, withdrawing his hand from the Engineer’s grasp, and Dell had to stop himself from reaching out again. The distance apart was unbearable, the air suddenly feeling so much colder against his empty hand.

Dell wouldn’t cry, not now. He shouldn’t have even been able to cry, because something was wrong with him, something was broken. He’d been to doctors. He’d been to therapists. Hell, he’d even tried talking to Medic. But nothing came up on tests, the psychologists would say he just hadn’t met the right person, and Medic had given him such a puzzled look he gave up immediately. Well, by all means, the right person was right in front of him. The right person should have been in front of him. But he felt nothing in the hollow hole of his heart but shame.

“I’m sorry- I just-“ Dell found the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, the sound of his voice much shakier than he would have liked.

“No, no, it is alright. I understand if men are… ah… not your taste-“ Spy cut in.

“That’s- not- Women ain’t either,” Dell blurted out. He immediately regretted his outburst, embarrassment crawling in his stomach with the strange look Spy gave him.

“Then…” Spy spoke slowly, as if every word might scare his coworker away. “What… if you don’t mind me asking… is your taste?”

Dell’s throat felt tight as he searched for an answer to the question he’d asked himself over and over again. “I… don’t know.”

He leaned over and put his face in his hands, taking a deep, shuddering breath. As the fingers in his still-flesh hand met his cheek, he drew them back to find them wet. He had sworn he wouldn’t cry.

“I’m sorry.” Dell muttered. “You’re a fine man and I don’t… I just… I’m awfully sorry. You… you can go.”

Dell stared at the ground, trying to take deep breaths. He waited for the telltale sign of footsteps, the sound of a cloak, something. What he wasn’t expecting was for a gloved hand to gently meet his back. The engineer looked up.

Spy’s face was unreadable, not an unusual appearance for the man, but this time he looked more lost. The man opened his mouth and closed it, trying to parse some kind of response.

He finally spoke, “Dell, really, it is alright. Please do not worry about me-“

“-I do worry about you though!” Dell interrupted. “I think about you all the damn time! You’re always hiding yourself away in that fancy old room of yours, never showing up to nights out on the town, answering every question with a question. Do you ever hang out with anyone other than me? Ever?”

Spy’s eyes widened at his outburst, but he didn’t say anything.

“That ain’t good for you, Spy. You can’t just close yourself off to the world and be a one man show.”

Spy scoffed at this, turning away, “Says who?”

Dell grabbed Spy’s shoulder and turned him around to look him in the eye. “Says me. Because I care about you. I care about you… a whole damn lot. And I don’t…” he felt his eyes sting with tears again. “Something’s busted up in my head, I’m sure of it. Because you’re great. You’re smart as a whip, and- and funny, and caring, and handsome, and… a whole buncha other stuff I can’t think of right now because I’m upset.”

Spy’s eyes widened and he stuttered, the blush under his mask creeping up to the bridge of his nose. “Q-Quoi?”

Dell took a deep breath, leaning back. “I mean it. I don’t… I’m awfully sorry, Spy, I just…” He trailed off awkwardly, leaving the two of them in silence for a moment.

Spy had diverted his eyes to the floor, his lips pressed together in concentration. Dell could practically hear the gears turning in his head, but couldn’t possibly fathom what there was to be processing.

After a long pause, Spy looked up again. Dell nervously shifted as the man spoke, “Monsieur Conagher… what you are describing… sounds like love to me.”

Dell sighed and shook his head, having gotten all too familiar with this reaction at this point in his life He usually didn’t try to explain himself further, but something was different about Spy. As he stared back at him, he could see something lurking beneath the surface of those murky blue eyes. Something he couldn’t quite place, but compelled him to keep talking.

“It’s like… you know how you love a friend differently than a partner?” Dell tried. Spy stared at him blankly, and the engineer sighed, rubbing his temples. “No, that’s not right, lemme start over.”

“Way I see it, there are three ways to love someone. You can love them as a friend, where you’re fine just sittin around and shooting the breeze, maybe throwing back a couple of beers. You can love them the way you’d love a partner, where you wanna go on dates and the like,” Dell scratched the back of his neck. “That one flies over my head a bit. Like, I’d be fine going on a date with someone. Just not… in a romantic sort of fashion. All friend-like would be fine.”

Spy raised an eyebrow, speaking again, “You said there were three kinds of attraction?”

“Well, yeah… I suppose you can go and figure out what the third one is.”

“I presume it is of a sexual nature?”

Dell’s face reddened, “Well you don’t have to just go and say it!”

“Hm.” Spy pulled out a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag before looking back over. “Why the refusal to speak about it?”

The shorter man crossed his arms, huffing, “I ain’t refusing nothing! It just ain’t proper, is all.”

Spy chuckled, throwing Dell a look. “Well, in that case, where do you fall on the matter?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“As you appear to not experience this attraction of the ‘romantic’ sort, do you experience any sexual attraction?”

The blush on Dell’s face deepened, and he looked away. “Well, that’s a tricky question. I do experience… well… some kinda… that.” He gestured vaguely. “But it ain’t exactly to other people. Like I wouldn’t say no necessarily if it was offered, but… you know… not something I’m looking for.”

The smirk on Spy’s face melted into a more neutral expression as he hummed thoughtfully, shifting his gaze back to the T.V. The credits to the movie were over at this point, static casting a faint glow over the man’s masked features. Dell couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like behind the disguise. A few defining features crept through the fabric, high cheekbones, an aquiline nose, a strong chin, but not enough so that Dell felt he could identify the man without it.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Spy broke it again. “This… romantic… type of attraction you speak of. Would you mind describing what it… feels like?”

“Well, I’ve only had it described to me through others, so can’t say for certain I’m the best source. But from what I’ve heard, you start thinking about that person all the time. When you’re around them your knees get kinda weak and your head all fuzzy. You get hit with overwhelming urges to do stuff like kiss em or hold their hand.” Dell shrugged. “Stuff like that I reckon.”

Spy’s lip curled with disgust. “Sounds like a disease. Are you sure?”

The engineer laughed, grinning back. “I know, right! People describe their partners same way I talk about my blueprints!”

“You are the only one who feels this way about math.”

Dell’s smile widened and he clapped his hand on Spy’s shoulder playfully, “And that’s why I’m the best goddamn engineer this side of the Mississippi!”

Spy chuckled in response, taking another drag of his cigarette. Dell looked at him thoughtfully, the gears beginning to turn in his head while he evaluated the man before him.

“Spy?” Dell started, trying to sound casual. “Are you saying that you reckon you might… feel the same?”

Spy huffed, furrowing his brow. “The way you are describing romance is not the way I perceive it.”

“How’s that, then?”

Spy thought for a moment, his eyes searching the floor for something that didn’t seem to be there. “I am… uncertain. But I have treated romance as a natural progression of friendship. A strong sense of camaraderie with another, where you take additional actions such as ‘dates’ or ‘kissing’ to express the nature of this relationship. Although, this does not appear to be… the ‘correct’ way. As you’ve described.”

Dell wondered, for a brief moment, if he’s dreaming. If this was just some horrible trick his brain was playing on him to make him think he’s finally not alone. “So… you said you loved me? You still… think that?”

“Well… there are multiple ways, yes? I am… beginning to believe it was in the way of a friend as opposed to a lover,” Spy responded slowly.

“Well…” Dell thought for a second. “I know a way we could test it.”

“And that is?”

Dell took a deep breath, wondering if what he’s about to say is stupid. “Kiss me.”

Spy’s face immediately reddened. “What?!” he spluttered incredulously. “I thought you said-“

“It wouldn’t be in a ‘lovers’- or, whatever you called it- kind of way. We could do a… a friends… kiss?”

Spy scoffed, “There is no such thing.”

“Why not?” Dell gently reached over, taking Spy’s hand. The man looked back at him like a deer caught in headlights, and Dell almost laughed. So much for that suave Frenchman he so adamantly claimed to be. “If you don’t wanna, that’s fine. But I think-“

Dell was interrupted by Spy’s lips crashing against his, the man pulling at his overalls to bring him forward in an almost desperate motion. He squeaked in surprise, trying to orient himself better on the couch into a more comfortable position before starting to kiss back, although he’d admit that he did so with much less finesse than the Frenchman.

It was strange to kiss Spy in this way, something in the way that they met feeling different than the other times Dell had kissed someone. His face was hot, sure, and he felt a little bit like he might keel over at any moment. But there was so much less intention behind every movement, something more playful and relaxed about the way Spy’s hands curled around his back. It was… nice. That was, until Spy started trying to get tongue involved, and Dell pulled away, laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Spy asked after a moment, looking a little bit dazed.

“You taste like cigarettes!” Dell laughed.

Spy’s offended look made the engineer laugh even harder. “I do not!” the Frenchman snapped in indignation.

“You sure as the devil do! It’s like kissing a hooker!”

Spy scoffed. “Well, you kiss comme un adolescent.”

“I assume that’s not a good thing?” Dell smiled.

Spy returned the look with a smirk of his own. “Non.”

The two looked at each other like that for a moment and then broke out into laughter, unable to keep a straight face. When they stopped, Dell noticed that he and Spy were still very close, and his heart skipped a beat for a moment.

He began to move away, stuttering, “Ah, well, that was… sorry if that was weird I just…”

Spy reached out for him, speaking softly. “No, no, it wasn’t… strange. It was…” he glanced away, “I am not sure I know the correct term. But I would not be opposed to doing it again.”

Something warm rushed through Dell’s chest, and he struggled to identify it. Was this love? No, that wasn’t it. Or maybe it was. Not romantic love, but something softer, yet equally as strong.

“Me neither,” Dell chuckled. He stood up, sidling over to the TV and starting to fiddle with the VCR, rewinding the tape inside before popping it out and tossing it haphazardly to the side. His eyes caught on the box of movies they still had yet to watch, eyeing a tape sitting at the top and grabbing it. He flashed it at Spy, smiling.

“I know we got a ‘one movie a night rule’ but… you up for one more, partner?”

Spy let out a sigh, nodding. “Fine. But choose a short one.”

Dell’s grin grew and he grabbed a random tape from the box, jamming it into the VCR before flopping back down onto his end of the couch. The film began to play, the screen once again casting a faint glow over the two men.

They watched it for a couple minutes, neither of them speaking much. Dell’s mind was still racing, and as he glanced over at his friend, Spy seemed to be the same. The man looked up and they met eyes for a moment. Spy opened his mouth as if he were going to speak and then closed it again, turning back to look at the TV.

Dell tilted his head, his voice breaking the silence, “Somethin’ wrong?”

Spy shook his head no, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to parse a response. “I was… well… I was wondering if we could sit… closer…” he said tentatively.

Dell let out a laugh at that. “Awwww, you wanna cuddle~?”

“Not like that!” Spy huffed, his face reddening. “Just… well…” He trailed off, looking away. “It has been… some time.”

The engineer softened at that, the sadness in Spy’s voice tugging at his heart. He tried to remember the last time he’d held someone himself. He couldn’t recall.

He scooted over, reaching out and gently pulling Spy into his arms. The Frenchman leaned into Dell’s touch in return, snaking his arms around the engineer’s back and letting out a near imperceptible sigh.

Despite his considerable height advantage, Spy felt so small in Dell’s grasp. He had never thought about how boney the man was until holding him, feeling like any wrong move could snap him in half. His muscles were tense, his entire body coiled tight like a spring as he pressed his forehead into the southerner’s chest. Dell smiled a bit at that, resting his chin on Spy’s head. Spy still smelled like cigarettes, but there was something softer underneath it, hints of wine and cologne clinging to his suit. It was nice.

“You ain’t really watchin’ the movie from that angle, ya know,” he joked.

“It is probably stupid anyways,” Spy mumbled, his voice muffled.

Dell looked up at the TV and watched a character's head get blown off by a rocket. “‘Fraid so,” he laughed.

Spy chuckled softly in return, relaxing slightly in Dell’s grasp. Dell sighed, wondering if the man ever really relaxed all the way. He was so uptight all the time, constantly looking as if he was ready to flee from any situation. Dell supposed that was part of the job, not getting caught unaware, but it saddened him to see Spy still so wound up even in the solitude of the engineer’s workshop.

Time passed and the movie went on, but Dell wasn’t paying much attention anymore. His thoughts were occupied by Spy, and the almost desperate way he clung to him. Dell had heard someone use the term “touch starved” once, and he couldn’t help that it sprang to the front of his mind. Was Spy touch starved? He glanced down and realized how tightly he was holding the man in return. Was he touch starved too?

He slowly ran his hand up and down Spy’s back, turning his head so his cheek pressed against the top of his balaclava. Dell couldn’t help but close his eyes at the sensation, the warmth surrounding him nearly intoxicating, the simple feeling of holding someone and being held in return better than anything he’d experienced before. Is this what sex was supposed to be like? He couldn’t blame people for chasing it if that was the case.

Logically, Dell knew that he wasn’t safe. His brain reminded him of the window on the east side of his workshop that he hadn’t fitted with bulletproof glass, the flimsy security checkpoints outside the base, the magnetic locks on the doors never quite closing them tight enough, the alarm on the wall that threatened to ring at any point. His heart, however, had a different idea, slowing to a calm rhythm in his chest as Spy leaned his head against it. He was shot at for a living. He closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of it all. This was a nice change of pace.

When he tried to open his eyes again, he felt himself struggling to do so. A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed down upon him, and he shifted, intending to get up and plod off to bed. As he did, he was reminded of Spy pressing down on him, acting almost like a blanket. There was no way in hell he was going to ask the Frenchman to move. Accepting his fate, he let his eyes close again, sighing a little. He relaxed, quietly letting sleep overtake him.

[jackie-gremlin-ghost]

Today marks 7 years since the reawakening of my Captain Underpants hyperfixation, which had been asleep for a very, very long time.

I had first discovered the books much like any kid in the late 90s/early 2000s; at the Scholastic Book Fair. If I remember correctly, the first one I had found was the second book, Attack of the Talking Toilets. I remember thinking how silly the cover looked, and it drew my little elementary school self in like a moth to flame.

I had quickly read it and absolutely loved it, and like discovering a new favorite treat for the first time, I immediately wanted more.

I was able to find the first book in my school’s library so I was able to get the full story on the two best friends who pulled the ultimate prank by hypnotizing their grouch of a school principal, and how it immediately became the worst decision they ever made.

And I loved every second of it.

As the years went on, I eagerly anticipated the Book Fair’s arrival at my school and would beg my mom for a few dollars extra, just so I get my hands on the newest adventure.

I devoured every single story I could find and bought as soon as I could, and each one was more entertaining than the last. From alien lunch ladies and zombie nerds, to a megalomaniac professor with an incredibly silly name in a giant robot with charts that you could use to give yourself a silly name (mine is “Poopsie Bananachunks” BTW), to an insane hypnotized woman with Medusa hair that gave atomic wedgies.

The more I read and reread these stories, the more I couldn’t help but think that it would make a pretty fun movie, or at least a tv show.

These stories had been with me through a lot of ups and downs in my life, the biggest being my parents’ divorce. They were there to remind me that even when times could be tough, you can make it through and still be able to laugh at even the silliest of things, no matter how old you got.

By the time I was 10, I got my hands on the latest book in the series, The Big Bad Battle of the Bionic Booger Boy Part 1. I loved it as always, but was shocked to see it ended on a cliffhanger. This had never happened before. I was anxious to see what would happen and how George and Harold would get out of this mess.

But… it would be some time before I got those answers.

Time went on, and my attention went to other things. I found new hyperfixations over the years, and while I didn’t have the 7th book at the time, I was eventually able to get answers thanks to the internet.

Eventually I entered middle school, and I found myself drawn to new book series that I grew to love, but Captain Underpants remained a big part of my childhood and some of its happiest memories. And for a while, I thought that was all it would be; memories to just fondly look back on.

But that all changed the winter of 2016.

It was the halfway point between Christmas and New Year’s, and I was gonna be 24 in less than a month. I was spending my downtime between holidays like any other bored 20-something year old; scrolling through Tumblr, of course. It was during that time that I stumbled across this post by @mondentertainment. It was photos of posters from a Licensing Expo, showcasing upcoming animated projects, be it films or series.

Among them were a few that sounded promising, others not so much.

But what caught my eye was this.

A poster from DreamWorks with a very familiar face on it.

I could barely believe what I was seeing, and from the comments and reblogs on the post, neither could a lot of other people.

It was like a door that had been long locked in the back of my brain finally burst open, and all those memories came flooding back, particularly of a reoccurring thought that ran through my young mind whenever I would look at those illustrations every time I turned the page.

Could it really be true? Was one of my favorite childhood books finally getting a chance to truly come to life on the big screen?

It had already happened once before after I read Coraline in middle school, so there might be a chance.

As you could probably imagine, I poured my thoughts of hope and excitement into the tags as I reblogged the post.

And when the trailer finally dropped three months later, it was like meeting that one childhood friend you never truly forgot all over again.

So much happened after seeing the movie on opening night, including meeting Dav Pilkey himself!

And all the great memories and friends I’ve made since rediscovering the fandom all lead back to that one moment on December 28th, 2016.

And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hi my loves! here’s the new chapter, it continues immediately after the last one. i’m trying really hard to keep up with my half-assed posting schedule but i might not be able to get you chapter 4 by tomorrow :( [i really think you’ll like it though!] don’t forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 3

2022

The air stood still as both of them waited for the other to speak. Silence had never really been an issue for them before, or at least never awkward. Of course, there were those occasional stillnesses that swept over their apartment after a fight or the comfortable silence where they could simply just exist in one another’s presence. Surprisingly, those kinds of silences were actually when they felt closest.

This one however was not like that. This one sat its weight on their chests as they slowly realised the reason for it was the fact that they simply no longer knew what to say to one another. They no longer knew what the other was thinking at that moment. Sure, they had an idea but there was no way to accurately tie that knowledge from years ago to who they were now. The same but with different everything. Wounds, thoughts, hearts. While Camila’s heart had only become fuller following the birth of her daughter, Carmen’s only continued to be slashed at more and more.

“So, uh, how are you?” Carmy said, clearing his throat.

“I’m okay. How are- How is everything?” Cam replied awkwardly.

“Good, good.”

A pause.

“Listen Carm, I’m really sorry about Michael, he-”

“Was an addict. It’s fine, I’m fine.” he interrupted.

“Carmy.”

He took a deep breath and let out a sigh, staring down and picking at his nails. 

“It’s-I don’t know how to-” he tried to explain before giving up completely.

“That’s okay.” Camila smiled reassuringly, prompting him to finally look up at her as a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. “I really mi-”

Carmen had begun to speak before being interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Hey, Carm. So, I couldn’t find my flat-head so I’m just gonna have to use your spatula again.” 

Fak’s voice instantly brought a smile to Camila’s face as she turned to look at him, having always had the best relationship with him out of all of the people in her and Carmen’s life together. The screwdriver in his hand dropped to the floor once he recognised the girl’s face in front of him before rushing to give her an excessively tight hug. 

“Cam! Oh my God, I missed you so much!” he practically squealed before pulling back and gasping. “Wait. Are you two back together?”

[Oh no no no, Fak-]

[Oh, I’m so happy for you!]

[Honey, no! Don’t-] 

[What do you mean “no”? Why’d you say it like that?]

[What do you mean “Why’d I say it like that”? I’m just trying to clear up his confusion, Carmen.] 

[Right.]

[“Right.”]

Carmy took a slight offence to Camila’s tone and mocking of his words but soon noticed the slight smirk sitting on her plump lips which was immediately reflected on his own, causing the two to erupt in soft chuckles as Neil’s eyes bounced excitedly between the pair because for a moment they felt like the old Cam&Carm that he’d dubbed his honorary parental figures.

“I should go, I have a meeting soon.” Camila smiled as she slowly shuffled towards the door.

“Oh right, we heard you’re up at La Fame now. Marketing right?” Carmen asked.

“Yeah, I mean you’d think it would be demanding but I have a scary amount of free time so I’m also working at that bakery in Logan Square at their pâtissier, part-time if you guys wanna pass by. Using that degree, you know.” she rambled before finally shouting a bye and racing out the door.

After she’d left, the two men simply stood for an embarrassingly long time, staring at the space that her figure once occupied.

“Man, she still smells like summer rain and pine needles.”

“Fak, what the hell is wrong with you?”

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback @janoskiansecondsofdirection @thatonedogwithablog

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #127

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

He's gonna be Frank with you. Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!

“Welcome back to The Frank Program. I’m Big Mike, your host for the day, since Frankie-boy couldn’t make it. But you won’t want to miss this episode, because our guest is rising pop-star icon, Rhonda Pope! Welcome to the program.”

“Thank you for having me, Mike.”

“On this show, we usually jump right into the questions, but I know you’re nervous, so let’s loosen up a little, shall we?” Mike pulled a bottle of whiskey from under the desk and set a couple shot glasses next to it on the table. He poured both of them and slid one over to Rhonda.

“Oh… uh… I don’t drink, actually.”

Mike had already downed his shot. “Oh well, more for me.” He took hers and threw it back. “Anyway, I’m relaxed now. The great thing about podcasting is no one can tell me what to do. It’s great. It’s like a vacation. Anyway… Let’s try an ice breaker: If you had to choose between Donald Trump, Joe Biden, and Kamala Harris, who would you fuck, marry, and kill?”

“I do not feel comfortable answering that question.”

“Yeah, ha ha ha,” Big Mike giggled. “I don’t blame you. Actually I wrote that question down a few weeks ago, it’s got nothing to do with recent events.” He held up his hands. “Okay? It’s a perfectly normal edgy kind of question.”

Rhonda sat in quiet discomfort.

“The internet is gonna have a field day with this. They hate me. They all hate me because I’m not afraid to tell it like it is.” Mike remembered what he was supposed to be doing. “Sorry about that, let’s get back to you. What’s it like finally catching your big break, years after the release of your first single?”

“It’s amazing, actually. I’ve always just, mostly tried to make sure I was making something I like, something I want to listen to, because I think as an artist you need to start from a personal place. So yeah, I stand by all of my previous releases even if they didn’t get the same attention as Bi-Bye Bitch. And I think my new fans are diving into my singles from last year, and even earlier, and they’re finding more of what they love about that song, but still unique. It’s a beautiful thing.”

“I can tell you that for me, personally, I’ve had Cigarette Burn stuck in my head every minute since I heard it. It’s exceptionally catchy.”

“Thank you. I -”

“Like, no, no, no, listen. It’s too catchy. I can’t get it out of my head, it’s driving me off the edge.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“You’re good.”

“Thanks. Uh…”

“Is it true that your record label dropped you last year?”

“It is, yeah. I had to get a job as a waitress to make ends meet.”

“Their loss, huh?”

“Yeah, I think indie pop really is the way of the future. My label never knew what to do with my music, you know? They couldn’t decide if it was for the gays or the girlies, but it was always for the gay girlies, you know what I mean? It’s that intersection.”

“Is there still a place in the pop world for megahits and superstars?”

“I guess so? But it’s never going to be like it was when I was a kid. Everyone knew the top forty because it was on the radio, and people were listening. Every year had its signature biggest song, but now? Monoculture is dead. Pop culture is dead. Nothing gets that big anymore. Everything is regional and demographical and, like, calculated to appeal to the most people and they still can’t do it. I’m lucky, you know? Because I’m getting popular enough to be self-sustaining, but I don’t have all the overhead the labels do. They spend more than anything else on marketing.”

“That’s old media for you. Do you see them sticking around?”

“I don’t think anyone really knows what’ll happen.”

Just then, the door to the studio slammed open, and Frank walked in with his arm over Daryl’s shoulder. “We… are… BACK!”

Mike furrowed his brow. “We. Are. Recording!”

“Get outta my seat, Michael. Shoo.”

Mike groaned and moved to the next seat over. Frank adjusted his microphone as Daryl returned to the dusty chair in the corner.

“It’s getting really crowded…” Rhonda shrank in her seat.

“Well too bad, darlin’. If you don’t like it, head on out.”

“Hey!” Mike punched Frank’s shoulder. “Do you know how hard it was to get her to come on the show?”

“I don’t know a damn thing about this girl, Mikey. Can’t imagine I care. Nothing you can say to me can ruin my mood. I got my boy back!”

“Wow,” Rhonda said half-heartedly. “Congrats! I think I’m gonna head home, actually… yeah.” She got up, grabbed her purse, and walked out before anyone could stop her.

Mike’s jaw hung open. “Why? Why, Frank? Why couldn’t you just stay home today?”

“Because it’s my show.”

“But you have no idea what you’re even doing!”

“I don’t need to. All that matters is family and making something I’m proud of.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, man? Ugh, forget it.” Mike threw down his headphones and stormed out of the studio.

“Well’n, I guess that’s all for today’s episode of The Frank Program. Thank you all for letting me be Frank with you. See you next time.”

[blackwell-academys-airdrop]

Hello. I just want to say that you’re probably one of my favourite LIS accounts here. You’re very funny. Love your work. Stay Hella. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

... You have no idea how much this means to me.

Like seriously. I started this blog in mid-2019 cuz I wanted somewhere to put my doofy LIS incorrect quotes that wasn't my main cuz I didn't wanna clog it up too much. (Which is a bad way to think about your main, but I digress.) I did not expect to get like a thousand followers over the course of a year. And now 2 thousand, even though I've been posting very sporadically over the past couple years now.

I love Life Is Strange. I love it with my whole heart. And I know it's going to break my heart, which is probably why I haven't actually played BTS yet, and why it took me three years to replay the first game. So I guess I try not to think about it. And that's probably why I don't post as much here as I used to or as I'd like to. I still love this fandom, but I haven't hyperfixated on LIS in a goodly while.

I've got projects that I've promised you guys, and some I haven't, and I want to follow through and complete them or at least post what I have of them. WAIT HOLD ON I DID HOST THE THING ON THE PLACE I've gotta find that old post hold on. But before that I'm gonna finish my thoughts here.

I'm working on a lot of things simultaneously, and right now I'm working on a really big non-LIS project that I want to start posting in a couple months. So yeah. Take my excuses as you will. But I promise, I promise with my whole heart, that I will not leave these projects unfulfilled.

...Anyway I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this about me. I'm just so grateful for you, and for your kindness (I've seen you in my notes a fair bit and I love seeing your own posts ^w^), and for the rest of you who leave tags or comments or reblogs or asks or likes or what have you. Even if you just browse without saying or doing anything. Thank you so much.

I wish I had more to show for those of you who've cared enough to stay.

Still.

Thank you.

Stay hella.

[little-grey-dowitcher]

So apparently there’s been a new twist on a trend I’ve been seeing for a while in like hardcore fundamentalist Christian/anti-LGBTQ+/gender critical groups and as funny as it is that they make hating queer people their whole personality, to the point of even pretending to be ex-gays or whatever, something about it is so bizarre from an outside perspective.

Honestly, it’s kinda sad to me how many of these people will make what are supposed to be the happiest moments of their lives about people they hate. Like in my last reblog, that couple was getting married, which is great for them! But rather than celebrating their marriage and their relationship and their love for each other, they decided to focus on their hatred of kinky furries? And imo there’s no version of events that makes this better. If they both were in on making this post, then I worry about their relationship because I speak from experience when I say ANY relationship founded on a mutual dislike of someone else is doomed to fail. If it was only one of them who came up with this idea and posted it without the other knowing, that’s also pretty bad, because how do you explain to your partner that the reason you can’t just be happy about your marriage is because you’re too busy being mad about kinky gay people online?

This is a trend with people announcing their pregnancies too, like they’ll go “yep! Just found out I’m pregnant! Something only REAL WOMEN can do, not something a trans woman can do!” And first of all trans women are real fucking women, so write that down. But also why couldn’t you just focus on your own happiness? Like, what are you gonna tell your child when they get old enough to use Facebook and they look through your page and see a memory pop up of that post? How are you gonna explain to them that you were so busy focusing on how much you hate a bunch of trans people you’ve never even met that you couldn’t even be happy they were coming into the world? And then there’s the parents who continue to make their entire child rearing experience about their hatred of trans people after their kid is born, like how those tradwife videos will show them making bread with their daughters and then randomly bring up how this is what Real Women do. Which is so bizarre. But also gods forbid your kid turns out to be trans themself, because now they’ve got an entire laundry list of posts you made detailing how much you hate trans people (IN THE CONTEXT OF RAISING THAT TRANS CHILD, NO LESS) that they can now use as a justification to cut you off!

It’s like that woman who talked about hating trans people on her deathbed. I don’t feel like I just “got owned” or whatever. I don’t know any trans women who feel that way either. I feel pity for a few minutes and then I go back to scrolling tumblr and drinking my tea. I forget all about it until someone brings it up, either as a passing joke or to show me an example, and then I laugh and maybe feel a little pity again, and then I go back to playing video games. Occasionally I’ll wish they had something in their lives that they loved and considered more important than their hatred, because I feel like everyone deserves to find happiness in the things they enjoy, but I never feel like I just got “absolutely destroyed” or whatever the poster’s goal was. I just feel pity for the people who are so obsessed with their hatred that they can’t focus on literally anything else, and then life goes on.

Idk I just truly hate this trend, not because I wish ill on the people doing it or think it’s cringe or whatever but because I think it’s more damaging to themselves than it is to anyone they’re directing their anger towards. Imagine being so miserable all the time because people exist that are different from you and it takes up so much space in your heart that you can’t even be happy about the good things in your own life without somehow making it a “gotcha” at random people you don’t know.

[webslingingslasher]

yes they have a following :(

i know its gonna get found out and i feel like crying bc i really don’t want to ruin the one good thing i have but it feels inevitable and im terrified

i deleted the account when we first got into contact about a year ago, but because it’s tumblr, the posts are still there, they just show up as “deactivated” if that makes sense. i wish i used a fake name or something but ive also posted selfies so it’s just so easily traced back to me and very fucked up.

i made friends in that fandom that i don’t talk to anymore but they could easily link it back to me, they have my number and old chats and audios and selfies i sent them over text etc.

i wish teenage me didn’t have access to the internet holy fuck. why couldn’t it just be fluffy shit. my glad this is the worst possible situation.

like j i deleted the account but it’s still there on my friends reblogs. it’s such a nightmare

—— 🌃

(2/2) the only option that would keep me safe is if my friends (one in particular that is the closest link to me) got deleted, but I’m not about to mass report the account lmao bc that’s awful, and that wouldn’t even work, so im just fucked basically. the worst possible digital footprint anywhere and unless that acc gets deleted, it’ll always be there bc they reblogged all my selfies and stuff.

you must think I’m insane, im starting to regret asking for an emoji djdbdbd. i swear im not

-------

i wish you would've deleted the archives first bestie!!! if you need help we will mass report the blog- i kid... unless,,, NO. 👀

idk friend, this is a tough one. i think you should tell them that you were a fan and had a fan account for a while (IF IT COMES UP. LETS NOT THROW OURSELVES UNDER THE BUS FIRST DATE YA'KNOW) and should things progress maybe say that you wrote some cringy stuff.

i think you'd rather have them know you told them before they had to find out thru stan accounts.

also- WHO IS THIS PERSON??? obv i don't want a name drop but like... are they a youtuber/tiktoker/musician/ like- HOW FAMOUS ARE THEY??? cause if this is lower level, no worries. if they have a couple mill... well.