#'all the old dykes know each other' is what she told me

[chihuahuagirlfriend]

On Sunday my older lesbian friend mentioned her friend Max and I had to stop her 2 sentences later when I figured out it was Max Dashu!!! Internationally known women's spiritual figure Max Dashu!!!

[gingiesworld]

Blossoms of Spring

Requested by @louxbloom hope you enjoy it buddy.

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Amab! Reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda had been living with her parents since she graduated from college. Hoping to find a job in her old High School. Once she had gotten the job, Y/N was the first person she had told. Heading over to their apartment with a bottle of wine in her hand.

"Hey." They greeted her as she used her key that they had made for her.

"I got the job!" She squealed as Y/N was fast to bring her in for a hug.

"That's awesome Wanda!" They exclaimed as they ushered her inside. Grabbing two mugs as Wanda looked for the corkscrew.

"Where's the corkscrew?" She questioned as they smiled.

"In the shop with the glasses I have yet to buy." They told her as she just laughed. Watching as they got the boning knife from their fishing kit and took the cork out. "You're lucky I know my way around a knife."

"That's only thanks to your dad and his obsession over fishing." Wanda told them as they poured the two mugs out.

"To your future Wanda." They toasted her, clinking their mugs together before they ushered her into the living room. Of course she was fast enough to grab the wine and took her seat beside them.

"I can't wait to move out." Wanda told them as they smiled at her, listening to her rambling about growing up and paying her own way.

"Move in here." Y/N blurted out.

"What?" Wanda questioned as Y/N cleared their throat.

"Move in here, I have a spare room. It's close to the school and it will be nice to have the company." They told her as she smiled endearingly at them. "We can figure out the bills and rent once you're settled in and have your first pay check."

"You'd do that for me?" Wanda questioned as they nodded.

"You're my best friend Wanda." They told her, speaking the words that would hurt the two of them. As the week went on, Y/N had helped Wanda pack up her things at her parents. Y/N soon come across Wanda's nightstand, not realising that Wanda would be embarrassed. "You naughty girl." They teased Wanda as they held up a pink vibrator. "I thought you were innocent."

"I am." Wanda blushed as she moved them over to her drawers and took over her nightstand. Only to regret it when Y/N found her lacey thongs.

"Ooh my, a matching set." They teased her as they held up a red lacey lingerie set. "I bet you looked sexy for whoever you bought this for."

"You know very well that I haven't." Wanda snatched it from them. Scowling as they chuckled at her. But the image of Wanda in that specific set was now burned into their mind.

As Wanda had settled in her new home, Y/N had made sure that their were places she could hang her photos. They wanted her to feel at home in their apartment.

Over time, the two found it hard to ignore their feelings. Wanda would always blush at the simple gestures, like making her coffee when she doesn't expect it. Buying her flowers as they went to do the grocery shopping. Always telling her, 'I saw these and thought of you.' All the time as Wanda fell more and more for them.

The night they had put on Dick Van Dyke, Wanda's favourite episode and food from her favourite restaurant as she soaked in the bath after a hard day at work.

Once the food was eaten and the show was paused, Wanda turned to face Y/N with a questioning look on her face.

"Why do you do all of this?" She asked them as they sighed. Getting ready to tell her the truth about their feelings.

"I uh." They cleared their throat nervously as they turned to face her, gazing into her curious eyes as she hoped to hear what she wanted to hear. "I know we have been best friends forever and we have always been there for each other and over that time in High School." They took a deep breath. "I started to fall for you Wanda. The person you are, I love everything about you. I am in love with you Wanda and I know me say..."

Wanda never let them finish as she kissed them, their hands wrapping around her waist as they kissed her back. Wanda's hands wrapped around their neck as the kiss deepened.

Wanda soon straddled their lap and rolled her hips against their growing bulge. Wanda soon moaning as Y/N started to kiss down her neck. Sucking and licking as she moaned.

"Take me to your room." She told them breathlessly. They picked her up with ease, walking with her in their arms. Letting her feet touch the floor as the two stripped.

"You are beautiful Wanda." Y/N told her softly. Their hands wrapping around her waist, the two gasping at the skin contact before Wanda reached up and caressed their face, leaning up to take their lips in her own. Y/N guiding her to lay down on their bed, hovering above her, gazing into her eyes.

A lot being said in one intense gaze before they leaned in, kissing her tenderly before they ran a lone finger through her folds. Teasing her entrance as they kiss her lips, soon to be swallowing her moans at they fingered her.

The pleasure was intense in that moment, Wanda had given herself over to them. Every part of her was theirs and theirs alone. Even as they thrust their hips into her as the night wore on. Many positions as the two never wanted to be apart in any way.

It was sunrise when the two had finally finished, Wanda lay in Y/N's arms as the morning sun shone through the window. A perfect view of the blossom trees in the quad could be seen. Spring becoming their favourite season as the love they felt for one another had blossomed into something more breathtakingly intense.

"What does this mean for us?" Wanda whispered as she traced patterns on Y/N's stomach.

"Well, I don't want this to be just for tonight." Y/N confessed. "I want it to be for now, forever. You are my forever Wanda and I would love to see many more blossoms in the spring with you lay in my arms."

"I love you so much." Wanda whispered as she kissed them passionately. Looking forward to the challenges that lay ahead for the two to tackle as one.

[sylvanas-girlkisser]

@drowmonk replied to your post “Hnnnngggghhhh I'm haunted by ideas for a Tomb...”:

*Palpatine voice* Do it!

@xhopsalong replied to your post “Hnnnngggghhhh I'm haunted by ideas for a Tomb...”:

if you wanted to be stopped you've come to the wrong place bc you had me at 'Sam'. tomb raider 2013 was everything okay

hnnngghhh maybe, here's my idea so far.

Basically I'm really taken with the concept of "dark mirror" characters, and I feel like both Amanda and the Lara clone kinda fall short at this. At the same time, I do also miss pre-2013 thrillseeker Lara, but that sort of personality just doesn't mix with modern ideals around archaelogy.

The modern trilogy has tried to make Lara come off as a good archaeologist; someone who respects the sovereignty of indigenous cultures, and takes only pictures and what is given to her.

Combined with how bookish new Lara is, I think there could be a very interesting dynamic by putting her up against someone who is just in it for the hell of it. A bored heiress looking for kicks and a few conversation starters for her 17 multimillion bachelorette crash pads.

And like, yeah the story itself is kinda given, Lara and her rival (for now i'm going with Alina) are both after the same "treasure", Lara for its archaeological significance, Alina cause it would look good 169 inch gold plated apple tv. It's all the little things that are missing, to get us to the catfights, the sweaty makeout session, the brawls that ends with one of them left bleeding on a cave floor. How does Sam fit into all of this?

I think one thing that would probably turn away a lot of readers (and yeah you shouldn't write to get readers but i digress) is the fact that the story in my head contains some amount of dubcon. Lara and "Alina" would to me represent two different but equally unhealthy ways of responding to trauma.

Lara like we see in the games, responds to the events of Yamatai, and the media shitstorm that followed it by try to enforce normality in her life - trying to stiff upper lip her way through gestures vaguely, while insisting that she is NOT CRAZY. One of the ways I've always imagined that manifesting is through aggressive denial of her own queerness (as well as any kinks she might have). She's a good christian girl, she's gonna find a brown eyed brown haired mr. right and have 2.3 children and that's that on that.

Alina meanwhile probably went through something similar to Yamatai, but went to the exact opposite extreme. She has stared death in the face and come back laughing, the world is fucked and the best you can hope is leave a pretty crater when you crash and burn. That same attitude is reflected in her queerness, sure being gay is illegal in Russia, but if you have money, everything is legal; and if people try to blackmail you, then you know those old Moscow houses, very weak windows, people fall out of them all the time.

And Alina can of course read Lara like an open book, she sees the way she looks at Sam, and the way she pauses to look at Alina lips while they're beating the shit out of each other. She knows, and because this would all be told from Lara's PoV so does the reader, that Lara's refusal to admit their mutual attraction is a product of internalized homophobia mixing with her steelheaded focus on proving that her and Alina are nothing alike.

At first Alina will try to "provoke" the dyke out of Lara, getting closer than they need to, inviting her on a barcrawl, hooking up with Sam and "accidentally" sending Lara their sex tape. You know, usual homoerotic rival stuff.

But Alina is not used to not getting the things she want, and especially after a very drunk Lara admits that she's actually super subby (justice for sub!Lara), she starts getting real forceful until Lara eventually reveals that yes she absolutely does want Alina to do all sorts of nasty things to her.

What I'm getting at, is that Alina is to some extent meant to be a, for lack of a better word, fetishization of the predatory lesbian trope - and I feel like lady Dimitrescu has proven that we as a society are ready for that, but also I would probably publish the fic under a pseudonym to limit the chance of tiktokkers sending me letterbombs.

[crimsun-n-clover]

picked up a friend from school.

we went to a park and carved our names into the picnic table with my keys. we listened to ozzy and anthrax, and went adventuring in walmart. sword fight, race, and minor heist. it felt good to just be shitty teens for a bit.

we met with my parents for dinner.

on the way there she told me that sugar called herself an ally when talking about pride month. she’s identified as bisexual for years, and i know it’s normal to change your label, but something about this makes me feel weird. she’s becoming the thing she promised to run away from with me. she’s had plenty of girlfriends, but i know that doesn’t really mean much if you change your identity.

i felt almost sick. really? i tell a girl i loved her in whatever way i can and she obviously doesn’t care enough to draw the line with bigoted people, then she starts acting weird and aggressive to everyone else i know, and now she’s calling herself straight?

is there something so filthy about me like i always thought? is she right? was i just such an abomination that she decided she’s only interested in straight, white, cis, allistic male versions of me?? they’re all creative, cat lovers, artists, musicians, protective, make a lot of jokes, all that. i guess i’m just too much of a mistake to be desirable.

yesterday the friend i was with today was doing stupid stuff with me, as per usual. we gave each other horrific henna tattoos and laughed about it. i drew a really fucked up cat on her hand, and sugar asked about it today. when told that i drew it, she goes “oh,” kinda grossed out, and turns away with an eye roll, whispering something under her breath.

i was almost proud that my name could cause such a reaction. i love it when people hate me for being myself. yes, go and pout over your lack of personality and taste. call me a slur that’s actually correct, and then go sulk with your boring little friends. you’ll never be me.

but now that i’m not with someone to joke about it, my chest hurts so deeply that it feels like my rib cage is bruised on the inside. i feel so worthless. after seven years of being close, now i’m just some fucking roach on her floor to stomp and be repulsed by. fuck you sugar. fuck you and your psychological effect on me. you don’t know how to love. you’re becoming a goody two shoes swiftie cutesy aesthetic version of your abusive fucking mom.

and to think i was worried about you? how i still am? i would give up my right hand just to clear you out of my mind. you’re sick. you’re awful. you ruined my life, waking and sleeping. i hope it hurts you like my friends think it does. i hope you don’t sleep either, because i wasn’t even wrong in our argument.

you used me for validation because i loved you. you flirted with me for the fun of creating tension like in your shitty colleen hoover books. you held me just to have something to do with your hands. you walked me out the door just to get away from the noise. you listened to my music just to shut me up. you partook in things you disliked to make me think that my interests matter to someone, because you pity the freak faggot who cares a little too much. you promised you’d never leave just to get me to fuck off.

if all of that isn’t the case, then what the fuck is wrong with you?

i want bad things to happen to her. somehow i still love her though. it’s so wrong in my mind. i want to show up and get her out of any trouble she manages to get into, take her to dinner like i promised that one time (when she sent me borderline nudes for some fucking reason), and give her a goodnight kiss before i go home to listen to old jazz that makes my chest buzz with affection. but still, i want her to cry in her bed, knowing what it was like to be held by me there.

i want her to realize that maybe, just maybe, she’s a bad person at her core. i may be violent, an asshole, a criminal, a dropout, an atheist, a dyke, a political extremist, and another trashy musician with nothing original to say. but i love so deeply. i refuse to admit it, but i would do anything for anyone who even means a little to me. some cashier i talked to once needs help? i’ll rip off my limbs just to get them out. they showed me kindness and were genuine, and that’s enough.

she’s a pacifist, someone who fusses over every little change in your tone, such a law follower that it got on my nerves, a member of the national honors society, the child of italian catholics, “straight,” a social democrat, and another person with a pencil and some time, but she only cares about herself. i see that now. she does everything for assurance, validation, a clean image, the title of “good friend,” and kind words from her peers. she doesn’t actually care about them enough to ever do anything for them.

i would go to her house and fill up her glass whenever it got low, even though the tap was across her house and i’d probably run into her parents. i would offer to pick her up from events that she didn’t want to go to, even if it was late and she was several towns away. i would offer her any layers i was wearing if she was cold.

and she can’t even hear my name without throwing a fit.

god, i want to hurt myself now. i’m just so fucking filthy and need to be punished to be clean enough to tolerate. i probably won’t do it, i don’t like doing it, but the compulsion is there. the buzz in my hands and weight in my whole body that i know will be gone the second i break the skin.

goodnight tumblr. i can’t fucking breathe. i hope anyone who sees this is doing better, because everyone is entitled to happiness.

[bird-of-eternia]

Sylvia (pt 3) Fight

(Rose recalls the fight.)

Story based on Sylvias Mother: Dr Hook

In a parking lot six blocks away Rose gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.

In two hours she would be on a bus to California. Her bags had been packed, a place arranged for her to sleep at. She was expected. She couldn't stay and try to convince that cow to let her talk to Sylvia anymore. It had been two weeks already. She had tried catching Sylvia alone but someone was always there, watching. It wouldn't have been a big deal if the town hadn't already suspected something was going on.

Sylvia was a good girl. Never getting into trouble but Rose....people talked about Rose like she was an outsider. Something to gawk at. She was 20 years old and living on her own in her parents old house. Never went to church and wore the same clothes the boys wore. She was caught smoking and even drinking, sitting with her legs thrown every which way, swearing, never with a nice boy. Rumors she was doing black magic or worse, kissing other girls. When Sylvia had been caught more than once talking to Rose it had blemished the Avery Family name. Rose was nothing they couldn't buff out with marriage to the preachers son.

She was a pariah.

Rose's parents had been dead since she was 15. She thought the towns people would have helped but no. No, she wasn't worth the trouble she guessed. Once she had spotted some older ladies watching her at the coffee shop. When she passed by them she heard them whispering.

"-good thing too...if they saw what their daughter had turned into..."

The radio switched to another song.

~But she was too young to fall in love and I was too young to know. So why did I give my heart so fast? It never will happen again~

Rose felt her blood buzzing through her body, her heart too fast. She slammed her fist against the console turning off the music.

This was all her fault. Her and that damn church.

She knew Sylvia wouldn't do it but part of her had hoped she would. They would have lived together and Rose could have kissed her whenever she pleased. No hiding behind diners or in dark cars. California would have been different.

But Sylvie would be a good wife to some man. Probably Freddie. Give him some fair haired kids that grew up with the most loving and kind mother. they would be lucky.

Rose felt like a statue. Like her bones had turned to stone. She couldn't move. Didn't know what to do.

Tears spilled over her cheeks. For a moment she was reminded of the pictures of crying angels in cemeteries and of the argument.

" No Rose. I can't! I've told you....I..."

"Think of it Sylvie. You and me together. Really together!"

Sylvie had ripped her hands away tears forming.

"What would people think? It's a sin Rose! I'm...I'm not like you! I'm not a dyke!...I can't be."

The words had slapped Rose across the face. Hadn't they just made love an hour ago? Hadn't they held each other while their hearts soared? Hadn't Sylvie been happy the last six months? What did all of this even mean to her then? It meant the world to Rose. Sylvia was about to speak when Rose cut her off.

"Rose..."

"Fine. Go back to you miserable life."

Sylvie had tensed, her face twisted in regret but Rose couldn't stop.

"I know who and WHAT I am. Do you know what you are Sylvia Avery? You're a liar. You're lying to me right now and you'll lie to yourself tomorrow when you say you love Freddie. You'll be lying when his father reads the vows. Lying when you think of me and when you look in the mirror....lying when he screws you..." Rose remembered the taste of bile in her mouth at the thought. Sylvia's horrified face. "Go...just go. Your mother will be happy.... Gods watching Sylvia."

And just like that Rose had left Sylvia at the back door of the cream colored house. Rose knew why Sylvia had acted out. She knew it was scary and felt like you were looking over a dark chasm about to fall in...

She knew how conflicted Sylvia had been with her feelings and her upbringing...but still.

Her body returned to itself. She wiped her eyes and started towards the bus station.

If a normal life with Freddie and her parents was what Sylvia wanted that's what she would get.

If she wanted Rose she knew where to find her. She had two hours.

[simthorium]

Tafari sipped on his cappuccino in the cafe garden, enjoying the afternoon in West Valley when Kamaria walked up. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said, sitting across from him. “Sorry I’m late, the traffic here is so crazy.” “Tell me about it,” said Tafari. “Getting out of downtown was a nightmare.” “I thought moving to midtown would be less traffic, but all the hipsters have started popping up there recently. So annoying.”

”This place is so nice, though,” Tafari said. “I hadn’t been out here since Nathan’s party, it’s already changed so much.” ”We’re getting old, bro,” Kamaria said with a laugh. Tafari smiled at the light banter. He was happy to see his twin sister, but he knew what this was about. “I’m glad you asked to meet up,” he said. “I was gonna bring SJ, but I figured it’d be best just the two of us.”

“I think so,” Kamaria said. “So, what’s up, sis?” Tafari asked. Kamaria took a deep breath. “I know things have been...rough between me and your wife,” she started. “I’m glad mom took the kids for the weekend, I’m sure that’ll help them become closer and patch things up. But Tafari. I don’t know how much more of Sarah Jane’s vitriol I can take.”

“It’s not vitriol,” Tafari said. “Luna called Shea a ‘dyke’,” Kamaria said flatly. “And not in a cool, fun way. She said it like it was an insult. Where else would she have learned that from?”  “We already spoke to Luna about her language,” Tafari said, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Over and over again, Sarah Jane has made incredibly bigoted and hurtful remarks about Shea. Ever since she told the family she kissed her friend, it’s been nothing but hate coming from her.” “She’s allowed to feel how she feels, Kamaria,” Tafari said.  “You’re really going to defend your wife being a homophobe?” Kamaria asked in disbelief. “She called my daughter immoral. She thinks schools are teaching kids to be gay, and thinks that me and Amar are somehow to blame. Tafari, come on. You have to talk to her!”  “I don’t have to do anything,” he said. “I don’t tell you how to run your marriage. If you’re so upset about this, then you talk to her.”

Kamaria shook her head in disbelief. “Ok,” she said quietly. “Fine. If that’s how you feel, Tafari, then fine.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tafari asked. “If you think that this is a normal way to interact, that your wife calling my child an abomination, then we can’t be in each other’s lives anymore. I can’t have Shea around someone so hateful. I have to protect her,” Kamaria said. “What!” Tafari exclaimed. “Protect her? What the hell are you talking about? Shea’s the one that attacked Luna!” “And we talked to her about it, and told her it was wrong,” Kamaria said. “Yet you won’t talk to your wife or child about why calling queer people ‘immoral’ is wrong. If you really, truly think this is an ok way to behave, then yes, I have to protect my daughter from you and your family.”

“But we’re family, Kam,” Tafari said, feeling helpless. “You’re my twin! You can’t just cut us out of your life.” “I can,” Kamaria said as she stood up. “And I very well will if I have to. Shea is still a child, she’s figuring out who she is. If she is gay or queer, she’s going to already be facing an uphill battle, and coming up against people in the world who hate her for being who she is. I don’t want that to start with her own family. So for her own sake, Tafari, if you won’t speak to your wife about her bigotry, I will cut you out of my life.” Kamaria gathered her belongings and offered a sad smile to her brother before walking away. Tafari stayed in his seat, not knowing what to say or do next.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Something ‘Bout You (Biker Natasha x Reader) Chapter 1

A/N: Hey this is a new series! I’ve been meaning to write something for her for a while now so here ya go enjoy! 

MAIN MASTERLIST

MCU MASTERLIST

NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE FREE AND ENCOURAGED 

SUMMARY: After Wanda announces her engagement a familiar face returns into your life. 

“(Y/n)!”

You heard the familiar chime of the doorbell and the familiar excited voice of your friend fill the relatively empty store. You whipped your head to her just in time to see her barrelling toward you and captured you in a bone crushing hug. 

“Whoa there Wands,” You said as you returned the hug, “did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?” 

Wanda quickly released you from her vice grip, “oh nothing much happened,” Wanda paused before holding up her left hand, “except this.” On her left hand on her ring finger sat a beautiful vintage ring. 

“Oh my god!” You exclaim smiling as you grab her hand to get a closer look at the ring, it was simple in design but it really suited Wanda. ‘When did this happen?!” 

“Last night,” Wanda reveals happily her smile never deterring, “Vis and I were watching reruns of the Dick Van Dyke Show, I told him how Mary’s ring was beautiful and next thing I know he asks ‘is it as beautiful as this ring’ next thing I know he’s down on one knee with the ring in his hand asking me to marry him.” 

“I’m so happy for you and Vis.” You congrat Wanda as you and her continue to talk about her engagement for a few more minutes. 

“Actually Vis and I were planning on going to the city tonight to celebrate, are you busy?” Wanda asks. You take a quick look at your calendar finding nothing but closing the store on the agenda for tonight. 

“Nope,” You respond, “just have to close the store.” 

“Close early and Vis and I will pick you up,” Wanda said, “We’re bringing Pietro, Steve, Bucky, and Monica with us.” 

You hesitate for a bit, but you take one look into Wanda’s pleading eyes, the same eyes that have gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble since highschool, next thing you know you’re nodding your head in agreement.

Wanda lets out a small squeal before enveloping you once again in a small hug before saying goodbye and that Pietro will pick you up by seven. 

As you continue about your day, stacking books and working the register you start to wonder when the last time you actually had a date was. 

During the slow rush you decide to check your calendar again. You flip through each page until finally you land three months prior where you had plans to meet up with the local coffee barista at some bar you can’t remember the name of. What you do remember is that the date ended with you buying a half quart of ice cream and watching reruns of Gilmore Girls. 

You check the clock and check the store to find it empty. You decide now would probably be a good time to close and to start getting ready for the night in the city with Wanda and the rest. 

You turn the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and push all thoughts of dating to the back of your mind. 

---

You had just slipped your shoes on when you heard Pietro knock on your door in the familiar pattern he’s done since high-school. 

You answer the door to reveal Pietro. You always thought he had looked handsome in that mischievous way. But when he wears that white button up and slacks with his hair gelled back he is a special type of handsome. 

“Well damn don’t we look fancy tonight?” You say as Pietro noticeably checks you out in the same appreciation. You did a small turn in your black dress that fell just mid thigh. 

“And you don’t look too bad yourself Princeza,” Pietro said as he offered his arm in an overdramatic gentlemanly style. Which you responded in kind, laughing slightly as you made sure to lock the door behind you before finally heading out.  

---

You were back in your parents backyard, sitting in that hammock with a book in your hands. Nancy Drew had wormed her way into eleven year old you’s heart, with all of her adventures and detective skills. 

Just as you were about to reach the climax of the book you heard a familiar voice. 

“Whatcha reading today?” You look away from the book and spot a familiar blue haired girl the same age. She was the neighbor that moved in about three years ago, Natasha, who quickly became your best friend. 

“Nancy Drew,”

“Again?”

“There’s more than one Natty.” You responded, next thing you know the book is lifted from your hands and Natasha is hovering over you with the book in her hands. 

“Naaat.” You whine as you try to reach for the book only to have her expertly move it away from you. 

“C’mon,” Natasha says as she makes her way to the bushes separating your yard and hers, “adventure awaits.” 

You struggle a little as you make your way out of your hammock and through the lush bushes to Natasha who slips through the crack in between. 

“Nat,” you warn lightly. 

“I promise I’ll give you the book back,” Natasha promises, “but first we go on an adventure! Grab your bike and meet me out front!” 

“Where exactly is this adventure?” 

“Just grab your bike, chatty cathy!” 

You hear her footsteps rush over to her bike as you rush to yours. 

By the time you let your parents know you’ll be riding your bike and get to the front of your house Natasha is already waiting for you. 

Together you both rode your bikes until finally settling on a clearing near the local park. There was this big oak tree and in front of it a huge rock as well covered in green moss. 

For a while both you and Natasha played by either climbing on the rock and proclaiming yourselves rulers of the land, climbing the tree, playing pretend in the most kid way possible. 

However you would catch glimpses sometimes, you didn’t know what, but it made you worry for her. Like how sad she looked, or scared. 

Finally, after being worn out by playing you both lay on the grass beneath you and watch as the fireflies began to dance around the big oak looking like thousands of moving stars. 

You were enjoying the bit of peace and silence when you felt her hand hold yours. You look over and see the blue haired girl still staring at the millions of fireflies with a smile on her lips. 

“Thank you for being my best friend.” She said gently as you looked away from her and continued watching the fireflies dance, until the sun finally set and it was time to go home. 

She never did give that book back. 

---

“Princeza, we're here.” You hear the familiar accented voice say. You slowly open your groggy eyes to see the glittering lights of the city. 

“How long was I out?” 

“An hour.” 

“So the whole car ride,” You say, you could see Pietro nod from the driver's side, “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“I was asleep the whole car ride, you were probably bored.” 

“No, I wasn’t bored,” Pietro said, “I know you haven’t been sleeping much because of the store.” 

Here it comes. 

“You need to start working less Princeza,” Pietro continued concerned, “you spend all your waking hours at the store, tending to your books, and life is going to pass you by.” 

“Pietro-” 

“I don’t mean to be harsh or rude,” Pietro quickly added, “it’s just I see you all the time at the store and nowhere else lately. I get that the store is demanding, but just try to make some time for yourself. Promise me?” 

You look at him and can’t refuse. 

“I promise.” 

You can start relaxing tonight. 

---

You came to quickly realize that clubbing really wasn’t your thing. 

A pile of random sweaty bodies ground on each other on the dance floor to music that hurt your eardrums. 

It wasn’t that you were judging anyone for liking this atmosphere, it just wasn’t your cup of tea, you preferred to stay on the sidelines and watch your friends dance. 

And the full bar proved that you weren’t the only one. 

You had looked away for a second to order a beer when you spotted someone familiar. 

It was dark save for the flickering lights that illuminated her every once in a while. You couldn’t place where you knew her but you knew that you knew her. It was in the way she walked with a certain grace and her eyes were sharp enough to cut through you and you imagined her tongue was the same way. 

She must have noticed you staring because the next thing you know she’s staring right at you. Your eyes lock and that’s when it hits you. 

You didn’t recognize her without her blue hair. 

Natasha. 

You panic and turn back to the bar to order that beer you were going to order about five minutes ago. You mentally beat yourself up, if you didn’t look like a creep before you definitely did now. 

You were so busy mentally assaulting yourself that you didn’t notice the redhead sauntering her way to you and sit on the empty barstool next to you. 

“Well if it isn’t Nancy Drew.” 

You turn your head and see Natasha there beside you. Her hair was shoulder length and no longer blue. Now her hair was it’s natural elegant red color, her blue eyes sharper than you remember as well as her cheekbones. You noticed hints of tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeve of her leather coat. 

“You never did return that book.” 

You both couldn’t help the laugh that erupted. Even though it’s been years somehow it almost feels like no time has passed. 

Almost. 

“So what’ve you been up to?” Natasha asked, “still into books?”

“Uh yeah,” You confirm, “I actually own a bookshop back home.” 

You see Natasha smile from ear to ear before taking a sip of what was your beer now it seems to be adopted by Natasha. 

“That’s so you,” Natasha said before taking another sip from the beer bottle. 

“Well what about you?” You ask, “what have you been up to?” 

You could see the hesitancy in Natasha’s face, just as she was about to answer, however you see a light brown haired male come up beside her. 

“Hey Nat, I hate to interrupt but we got a Budapest situation over here.” Natasha swerved her attention to where he pointed at the blonde who was obviously drunk off her ass putting a six foot tall man into a choke hold. Which you had to admire and be impressed at. 

“I guess that’s my cue Nancy Drew,” Natasha said as she took one last sip from the beer bottle before abandoning it. As she was making her way through the crowd but before she got too far you saw her turn around. 

“What was the name of your bookstore again, Nancy Drew?!” She yelled over the crowd. 

“Oh-um- Summertime Stories!” You call out, you catch a glimpse of something in her eyes before it disappears. 

“I’ll see ya soon Nancy Drew!”  

Oh how right she was.

[kjack89]

The Roomba

For @megab, winner of my offering for the @bishopmyrielfundraiser! The request was for Eposette fluff and hopefully this delivers!

Éponine had to raise her voice to be heard over the bass pumping through the club. “Thanks for agreeing to come with me to a dyke bar.”

Grantaire gave her a slightly bemused smile. “Well, there’s nothing a man finds more attractive than watching women dance up on other women. Éponine gave him a look and Grantaire amended, “Fine, there’s nothing that straight and some bisexual and pansexual men find more attractive than women dancing up on each other.”

“Hilarious,” she said sourly. “Just because you’re practically engaged—”

“—Is all the more reason why I thought it was important to play wingman to make sure you found a date to bring to my eventual wedding,” Grantaire interrupted smoothly, taking her arm and steering her toward the bar. “Now how about some shots?”

He gestured for the bartender and Éponine groaned. “My liver’s going to hate me tomorrow,” she said, eyeing the two shots full of clear liquor that the bartender placed in front of them.

“We’re 32 years old,” Grantaire said, clinking his shot glass against Eponine’s. “Our livers already hate us.”

“Fair enough.”

They both pounded their shots, both wincing as they did. As Grantaire ordered them both beers, Êponine turned to survey the club, trying hard not to look too interested as she scanned the women there. Grantaire tapped her on the arm and she turned to accept the beer bottle he held out to her when she froze, having spotted an all-too-familiar smile in the crowd.

But no, it couldn’t be—

“Earth to Éponine,” Grantaire said, pressing the beer bottle into her hand. “What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Éponine shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “I just thought I saw—”

She spotted her again, the familiar face in the crowd, and this time she got a good enough glimpse to know that she was not mistaken. “Shit,” she hissed, grabbing Grantaire’s arm. “Shit shit shit—”

“What?” Grantaire asked, sounding far more curious than concerned, and to Éponine’s horror, he craned his neck, clearly trying to figure out who she had seen. “Is it one of your exes?”

“No,” Éponine said shortly. “Worse.”

“What could be worse than an ex?” Grantaire asked, but Éponine didn’t waste time on replying, just tugging him away from the dance floor toward the back exit.

For his part, Grantaire followed along willingly enough, even if he clearly had no idea what was going on when they got outside. “Are you going to fill me in at any point this evening on what’s happening?” he asked cheerfully, setting his beer bottle down on the lid of the dumpster as he fumbled in his jacket pocket for a cigarette.

Éponine, still trying to wrap her mind around who she had just seen, ignored the question. “Does Enjolras know you’re smoking again?”

Grantaire took a deep drag before blowing the smoke in her face. “I’m allowed two a week,” he informed her. “But also what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, unless you intend on narcing me out.”

She huffed a dry laugh. “Me, narc? Give me some fucking credit.” She plucked the cigarette from his hand and took a drag before muttering, more to herself than to him, “What the hell is she doing at a lesbian bar?”

Grantaire stole his cigarette back. “Better question: who is she?” Éponine didn’t answer and Grantaire sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me about your ex, but if she looks like a lesbian, quacks like a lesbian, goes to lesbian bars, and used to date you, I’m gonna guess she’s at a lesbian bar because she’s a lesbian. Or at least queer of some flavor, we’re a large church.”

“I told you, she’s not my ex,” Éponine said impatiently.

“Damn,” Grantaire said, stamping his cigarette out on the side of the dumpster before grabbing his beer again. “I’ve always wanted to meet one of your exes.”

Éponine rolled her eyes. “You have. You’ve met Montparnasse.”

Grantaire gave her a look. “Oh, I’m sorry, let me clarify: one of your exes who wasn’t your beard.”

Éponine scowled. “He wasn’t my beard,” she said, lying through her teeth. “Bisexual people exist.”

“Yeah, we do. But stalking Marius and half-heartedly pretending to date Montparnasse do not bisexuality make.” He took a sip of beer before adding, “And fucking women while Montparnasse was busy fucking men also doesn’t count.”

“I wasn’t stalking Marius,” Éponine muttered, not seeing the point in trying to deny the rest of it.

“Babe.”

Éponine flushed. “No more than you were stalking Enjolras.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Yeah but he turned out to be the love of my life, so. All’s well that ends well or something.” He arched an eyebrow. “And none of this is explaining who that very cute girl was, or why you turned tail and fled when you saw her.”

Éponine sighed heavily and took a swig of beer. “That was my foster sister,” she said. “Or, more accurately, one of the foster kids my parents took in when I was little.”

Grantaire raised both eyebrows. “Your parents don’t exactly strike me as the type to be fosters.”

“They’re not,” Éponine said with a snort. “But the government pays a stipend to foster parents and my parents figured it was an easy enough way to make money. They made my siblings and I lie to get them approved because they’re, you know, awful, and pocketed all the money and made the foster kids do housework.”

Grantaire let out a low whistle. “They sound like villains in a bad rip-off of Cinderella.”

Éponine nodded. “More or less. And Cosette – that’s her name, Cosette – she was no exception. She lived with us for four years, I think?” She shrugged. “But even though everyone was so awful to her, Cosette was always so nice and sweet and—”

“And you had a little crush on her, didn’t you?” Grantaire practically cooed.

Éponine’s flush deepened. “I don’t know, maybe,” she mumbled. “But I sure as hell didn’t treat her like I did. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hates me.” She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “And she’s so fucking pretty now, too, oh my God.”

Grantaire patted her shoulder consolingly. “So I understand all of this, but, like, why’d you run away?”

“Because what was I supposed to say to her?” Éponine demanded, lowering her hands. “‘Hey, remember me? We were kids together and my parents made you do manual labor while I benefited from your servitude’.”

Grantaire winced. “It was really that bad?”

Éponine shook her head. “Honestly, it was probably worse than that,” she said grimly.

Grantaire drained his beer, his expression turning contemplative. “Ok, so then maybe you need to figure out a way to re-introduce yourself that shows that you’ve changed.”

“Like what?”

“What part of ‘you need to figure out’ means that I’m supposed to have all the answers?”

Éponine groaned again. “Can’t I just run away and never come back to this club?” she asked pleadingly.

“No,” Grantaire said firmly. “Mainly because there’s only like three lesbian bars in this city and the bartender at one of the other ones hates me.”

“Did you sleep with her girlfriend?”

Grantaire ignored her. “Besides, you can lie to me and tell me you won’t, but I know you, and you’re gonna dwell on this if you don’t reconnect with her. And I don’t think Enjolras will let me bail you out of jail for stalking this time.”

Despite herself, Éponine barked a laugh. “I never got arrested for stalking,” she said. 

“No but there were a few close calls if memory serves.” Grantaire gave her a measured look. “So what do you think?”

Éponine nodded slowly, the gears in her head already turning. “Yeah,” she said finally. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”

“Good girl,” Grantaire said. “And who knows, maybe you will end up with a date to my wedding after all.”

“Well,” Éponine said, “one thing at a time.”

- - - - - - - - - -

A few days later, a tentative knock sounded on Éponine’s door, and she answered it, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Cosette standing on her doorstep, holding a large box. “It’s you,” Éponine said stupidly, and Cosette half-smiled.

“It’s me,” she echoed. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up here, but you kind of left this on my doorstep without any explanation?”

She said it like a question, and Éponine flushed a mottled red. “I, um, I mean, um, yeah, I did, but there was an explanation,” she said weakly. “I wrote a note on the gift receipt.”

“Oh, right,” Cosette brightly, shifting the box to her hip to grab the gift receipt from the pocket of her coat. “Enjoy the Roomba. From Éponine.” She arched an eyebrow at Éponine. “Very descriptive.”

“I thought it was self-explanatory,” Éponine muttered. She squinted at Cosette, still not entirely sure that she wasn’t hallucinating this entire thing. “How’d you find me?”

Cosette shrugged. “I asked Papa’s boyfriend, who’s a police officer, if he could help me track you down.”

Éponine blinked. “Wait, your dad, the ex-con, is dating a cop?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Cosette said. “Anyway, can I come in? This thing is heavy.”

“Oh. Of course.”

Éponine held the door open, trailing after Cosette as she walked inside, glancing around the small but brightly lit apartment. “Just you?” Cosette asked, setting the roomba down on the kitchen table. “I half-expected Gavroche or one of your other siblings to be living with you.”

“Believe it or not, Gavroche is at college right now.”

Cosette grinned. “Really?” she said. “That’s great. I’m sure he doesn’t remember me, but tell him I’m proud of him.”

“I think you’re harder to forget than you give yourself credit for.” The words were out of Éponine’s mouth before she could stop them, and she quickly turned into the kitchen to avoid looking at Cosette. “Anyway, can I, uh, get you anything?”

“Just some answers, really,” Cosette said. “Starting with the most obvious, probably: how did you even know I was living in the city?”

Éponine poured them both glasses of water just to give herself something to do. “Oh, I, um, I saw you. At Paris Dance.”

Cosette’s eyes widened. “Oh. So are you…”

She trailed off but Éponine knew immediately what she was asking. “Yeah. And, uh, you?”

Cosette nodded. “I’m not big on labels, but yeah, I’m queer.” She gave Éponine a tentative smile. “Is that how you tracked down my address?” she asked, her tone turning teasing. “Using the queer network?”

“Something like that, anyway,” Éponine said, figuring that using Les Amis to hack into city records was using a queer network in its own way.

Cosette’s smile widened. “Well, I’m glad you did,” she said, accepting the glass of water from Éponine. “It’s really good to see you. Though, um, what’s with the Roomba?”

Éponine shrugged, feeling herself flush yet again. “I wanted to buy you something nice,” she mumbled, not quite meeting Cosette’s eyes. “An apology gift, I guess, for how we used to treat you.” Her flush deepened. “And I figured since you used to have to sweep all the time, it would be nice to give you something that sweeps for you.”

“That’s…actually really sweet,” Cosette said slowly.

Éponine jerked another shrug. “Well, I wanted to show you that I’ve changed. That I’m not the same wretched little girl that I used to be.

Cosette’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” she asked. “You were always nice to me.”

Éponine stared at her. “I was horrible to you.”

“No, your parents were horrible to me,” Cosette corrected.

“But I didn’t do or say anything to stop them!” Éponine burst, two decades of guilt tumbling out. 

Cosette reached out to cover Éponine’s hand with her own. “You were a kid,” she said quietly. “There was nothing you could have said or done, and besides, you were protecting your siblings, especially your brothers. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” She squeezed Éponine’s hand, just once, before adding, “And you were nice to me. Remember that time when your mom yelled at me and made me clean the whole house just because I played with your doll?” Éponine shook her head silently and Cosette gave her a small smile. “That night when you went to bed, you looked back at me and very deliberately dropped your doll just outside your bedroom door. So I got to play with her all night long.”

Éponine slowly shook her head again. “I don’t remember that,” she said quietly.

Cosette shrugged and sat back in her chair. “Maybe not. But I do.”

“But I still should have done more.”

Cosette shook her head. “Look, if it weren’t for the time I spent living in foster care at your parents’, Valjean never would have found me and adopted me. So I can’t really be upset about the circumstances that wound up changing my life for the best.”

Éponine wet her lips before asking, with just a bit of desperation, “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“No,” Cosette told her. “That means that there’s nothing for me to forgive.”

Éponine’s throat felt tight, and it took her a moment to respond. “Thank you.”

“And that also means that I can’t accept this,” Cosette told her, patting the Roomba’s box.

“What? Of course you can.”

Cosette shook her head. “You bought it as an apology gift, and as I just said, you have nothing to apologize for.”

Éponine frowned. “Maybe not, but I also bought it because I thought it would be a nice thing for you to have. Because I thought it would make you happy.”

Cosette smiled. “Well, that it definitely did. Especially knowing who gave it to me, and why.”

Éponine lifted her chin. “So I insist you keep it.”

For a moment, it looked like Cosette might argue further, but then she just nodded. “Thank you. Though my cat may not like it as much.”

Éponine smirked. “Just name it Azelma. Remember how she used to chase the cat around?”

Cosette burst out laughing. “Of course. Poor thing.”

“Azelma, or the cat?”

“Both.” Cosette cleared her throat. “And if I’m keeping it, that means that I also owe you something. So what do you say I make it up to you by taking you out sometime for dinner?”

Éponine stared at her. “Like as a date?”

Cosette shrugged. “If you want it to be.”

Éponine’s mouth went dry, and her brain seemed to short-circuit. At least, that’s the only explanation she could think of for why she blurted, panicked, “You don’t think it’ll be like dating your sister, do you?”

Cosette laughed again, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said. “No, I do not think it will be like that at all. Especially since you and I were never really sisters.” Her smile softened. “Besides, I always had a little bit of a thing for you when we were little.”

“You did?” Éponine asked.

Cosette nodded. “I always thought you were so pretty,” she said. “You had that long, curly hair, those pretty dark eyes, those soft, pink lips…”

She trailed off and Éponine couldn’t help but wet the lips in question. “Yeah?” she managed, her voice a little strangled.

“Yeah,” Cosette said. “And then when I was a teenager and I realized I liked girls, I was like…oh, that makes sense.”

Éponine managed a short laugh. “And look what’s become of me,” she said, a little self-deprecatingly.

But Cosette frowned. “Don’t say that,” she chided. “Your hair may be shorter now, but as for the rest of it…” A slow, appreciative smile crossed Cosette’s face. “Let’s just say I’m very glad that we were never really sisters.”

“Me too,” Éponine said. “Because you’re, like, really hot.”

Again, she had not meant to say that at all, but Cosette didn’t seem to mind, judging by the pink that tinged her cheeks. “Well, thank you.” She stood, picking the Roomba up. “So when do you want to do dinner?”

Éponine didn’t know what possessed her to say it, considering that she had no food in her apartment and hadn’t cleaned in far too long, but she still said, like an idiot, “How about right now?” Cosette raised an eyebrow, and Éponine hastened to add, “I don’t mean go out. I mean…why don’t you stay? We can order in, catch up. If…if you don’t have any plans, anyway.”

Cosette nodded slowly. “I don’t,” she said. “Other than figuring out how my Roomba works.” She smiled at Éponine. “And that sounds good.”

“Great,” Éponine said, relieved. “I’ll just go grab some takeout menus, and—”

Cosette cut her off by closing a hand around her wrist, holding her in place, and reaching up to kiss her lightly. Cosette pulled away, sitting back in her chair looking self-satisfied. “Just wanted to verify,” she told Éponine, who hadn’t quite recovered the power of speech.

“Verify what?” Éponine managed finally.

Cosette winked. “If kissing you felt like kissing my sister. It didn’t, in case you were wondering.”

A slow smile spread across Éponine’s face. “No,” she agreed. “It sure as hell did not.”

[peachbear88]

The Greatest Love Story

A/N: Inspired by this lovely image I saw. I'm making this into a high school angst AU that takes place in like the 1900's. For the record, I know Steve isn't a bad person but this is an AU and I need one of those... You know, guys for this story so.... Yeah! Sorry! BTW, the second poem is not written by me, it's written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and I stole some quotes from Shakespeare.

Warnings: Angst, homophobia, swearing, character death.

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

----------

You scale the ancient wooden stairs of your small school. avoiding eye contact with anyone. The stares you receive from others are painfully obvious as you speed walk towards the library, seeking shelter from the judgmental glances from your peers.

"Hello dear," the kind librarian greets you as you walk past her towards your corner of the library.

You don't respond, quickly ducking behind the massive shelves, hoping to spend as much time as possible in your safe space before the classes start. Placing back your old books, you scan the shelves, until a particular title catches your eye.

"Love Poems by Women?" You murmur, flipping through the worn pages.

----------

A giant dusty book lands on the librarian's desk, making her look up.

"May I take this out?" You ask, your tone emotionless, cold yet tentative. The librarian smiles gently at you handing you back the book.

"Of course dear. Happy reading." You give her a small, thankful smile before dashing out of the library door. The halls are partially empty, save for the kids that skip class, hanging around in the hallways and dark alleys after school.

You duck your head, avoiding eye contact as you pass the group leaning against the lockers, most importantly, the hazel eyed beauty that could snap your neck in half, Yelena Belova.

"Hey!" Your head snaps up. Big mistake. You lock eyes with the famed blonde and you drop your head immediately, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Y-Yes?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She snaps. You peek at her from the corner of your eye, her sleek dress pants catching your eye.

"Interesting outfit choice," you note before you can stop yourself.

"What did you say?" She demands and you gulp, backing away.

"N-nothing." She slowly steps towards you, backing you into the lockers.

"Get to class. And don't ever let me see you again идиот (idiot)." You hurry down the hall towards your classroom, tripping in the process as you repeatedly look over your shoulder, watching as Yelena turns back to her friend group.

---------

"She was cute," Natasha points out as Yelena reclaims her spot leaning against the lockers. "Why do you feel the need to tease her so relentlessly?" Yelena rolls her eyes, grabbing the flask of vodka back from her sister.

"She's annoying. I don't like her." Natasha smirks.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

---------

You let out a sigh of relief when the bell rings.

Your classmates flood out of the classroom, jostling each other aside in their rush to get home. You quickly sprint out the door, eager to get home, safe and sound when a hand grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a dark alley behind the school.

"Hello there girly..." A deep voice says. You gulp. The boy steps into the light to reveal Steve Rogers. One of those people that take pride in hurting others, a bully, your tormenter.

"W-what do you want?" He smirks, stepping closer to you.

"Well, a little birdie told me that someone had an encounter with a specific blonde this morning." You flinch when he grabs you by the throat, pinning you to the wall. "You wouldn't happen to be... I don't know, one of those dykes would you?" Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously as he laughs. "Oh man," he sputters, choking through his laughter. "Wait till the school gets ahold of this-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist connects with his face, sending him reeling backwards.

"What the-" A strong hand wraps around his throat, pushing him backwards till his back connects with the wall.

"Listen to me you маленькое дерьмо (little shit), if you ever even think about coming near her again, I will sneak into your house at night, gut you like the fish you are and paint the school with them." Yelena warns in a surprisingly calm voice. Steve's eyes widen and he nods his head frantically until she lets go.

"Crazy bitch!" He spits, backing away quickly. You shuffle your feet, looking down at the ground as she watches him run.

"T-thank you." You mutter, not daring to look her in the eye. She sighs.

"This better not become a daily thing Y/L/N." You nod feebly. "Get out of here." You quickly pick your bag back up and sprint out of the alley, leaving Yelena by herself,

---------

"I'm home mom!"

"Welcome home sweetie!" Your mom pokes her head out of the living room.

"How's your book going?"

"As great as a woman writing a book can be." She chuckles forcibly. There's an awkward silence before she continues. "Your father came by today." She pauses as you swallow, feeling like something lodged itself in your throat.

"And what did he want?" She frowns at your tone.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like him but he's still your fa-"

"I don't have a dad," you growl, picking up your bag. "My dad died when he chose to abandon us." She watches as you climb up the stairs, sighing and rubbing her temple.

---------

You flop onto your bed, dropping the thick dusty buck onto the bed. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading through the poems until your mom calls you down for dinner.

It's an awkward dinner, quiet, only the sounds of dishes, chewing and utensils filling the room.

"I'm going to bed." You say after washing the dishes, not bothering to wait for a response.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of your room.

"Love poems by women." You mutter, an idea popping into your head. You quickly sit up, flicking on your lamp and pulling out the book and a pen.

----------

"Good morning dear," the librarian greets you like she does every morning.

"I'd like to return this book." You reply coldly, passing her the book once again. She smiles gently at you.

"I hope you enjoyed your reading." She says while passing you, returning the book to its original shelf.

-----------

"Hello hon, can I help you with anything?" The librarian asks the dirty-blonde haired girl.

"No, thank you." The girl sends the librarian a tight lipped smile before returning her attention to the shelves. A ripped leather cover catches her attention. Love Poems by Women. She smiles, pulling the book from the shelf. Flipping open to the title page, a neat cursive catches her eyes.

Love flows between beings Gift from the gods Curse from the demons The missing part of every person Destined to be opposites Love is flexible Yet some seek to objectify love Love is not for the weak willed. - Aristophanes

The blonde haired girl hums, pulling a pen from her jacket's pocket and discreetly writing in the book, right next to the poem.

------------

Terrible.

That's the only way to describe your day. You received your essay back, ecstatic to see that you had received an A. Steve on the other hand had absolutely flunked. Instead of dedicating his time to studying, he decided to beat you up as a way of taking out his frustration.

You ended up limping out of the women's toilet, your leg flaring up whenever you moved, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Hi sweetcheeks," the librarian murmurs, her eyes trailing down your injured leg.

"'Ello." You quickly duck behind the shelves, pulling out the book you were looking for. Your brows scrunch together in confusion as you see a messier scrawl next to your handwriting.

Reality hits hard

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

- Orpheus

You smile letting a light laugh slip from your lips. A sweet titter revealing the little girl underneath your cold, traumatized exterior.

Quickly, you grab your pen from your pocket and begin scribbling.

-----------

The air is knocked from your body as your back makes contact with the floor.

"Listen here dyke. I don't like you alright," Steve growls into your ear as Tony cracks his knuckles. "So here's what's going to happen: Everyday you're going to meet us here and," he pauses, cracking his neck. "Help us relive some stress." He smiles wickedly before punching you in the stomach, making you double over in pain.

Your eyes flutter shut as they deliver blow after blow 'till they finally stop. You tentatively open your eyes to see Yelena tackling Steve to the ground as Tony stares at them, eyes wide.

"I. Told. You. To. Leave. Her. Alone!" She screams, pummeling Steve with her fists. He groans, unmoving. You watch in terror as Tony picks up a trash can lid, sneaking up behind her as she punches Steve in the face.

"Watch out!" You scream, taking Tony as well yourself by surprise. She looks up to see you slamming into Tony sending him flying into the nearby wall of the alley.

He crumples, unconscious.

"Are you okay?" You mumble, limping towards Yelena, who's clutching a blood gash on her arm.

"'M fine,' she grits out. You shake your head, grabbing her wrist. She flinches but doesn't push you away.

"You're not okay. Let me help you." You plead. She stays silent and you quickly take her silence as a yes, leading her to the front steps of your home. You rummage through your back pack, finding a large wrap of bandages that you kept after your daily beating from Rogers and his friends.

She winces as you wrap her wound swiftly.

"Gentle!" She growls and you stare back at her defiantly.

"Well maybe if you would stop moving, it'd hurt less!" You retort and she shuts up, staring off into the distance. You dab the cut with a small bit of alcohol before wrapping the bandage all around her arm.

"Thank you." She whispers, giving you a small smile. Reaching out, she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you flinch back. You quickly, shovel the bandages and medicinal alcohol back into your pack, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

"No problem. The least I could do since you saved me." You reply bluntly, swinging the bag over your shoulder and slipping through the door.

"Wait-" She sighs as the door slams shut in front of her.

You exhale, leaning against the door as you try to catch your breath.

-----------

Yelena sighs exasperatedly, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt.

"What's wrong little sis?" Natasha smirks, plopping down next to her.

"I got hurt and Y/N patched me up." Natasha jumps up, eyes wide.

"You stained your new shirt?" She groans shaking Yelena violently. "God I'm going to kill you!" Yelena grabs her sister, stopping her.

"You're missing the point!"

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Nat challenges, flopping back down on to the couch.

"She patched me up!" Nat's eyes widen.

"Oh. Oh." She inches closer to her sister, nudging her playfully, much to Yelena's dislike. "So are y'all like," she winks at her sister insinuatingly. "A thing?" Yelena scrunches her brows in confusion.

"A thing?" Nat rolls her eyes, sidling closer to her.

"Yes. A thing. An item? Lovers?" She shrugs, missing the way Yelena blushes.

"In her dreams," Yelena snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"If you say so..."

-----------

"Morning pumpkin!" The librarian chirps.

The blonde girl ignores her, breezing past her towards the the shelves at the very back, peeking over her shoulder quickly before pulling an old, leather bound book from the shelf.

She flips the leather cover aside to reveal the title page. Next to her messy, distorted scrawl was a neat, distinctive cursive once again.

Speak low if you speak love

- Aristophanes

She smiles gently, chuckling as she shakes her head.

"Shakespeare of all people," she whispers, her accent thickening. Pulling a forgotten pen from the shelves, she begins writing,

-----------

The highlight of your day became going to the library and reading the little messages scrawled in between the margins of the book by Orpheus. Like:

If music be the food of love, play on

Or

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.

They made you smile on a daily basis, sometimes even eliciting a rare light laugh.

"Good morning sweetpea." The librarian greets you, not expecting a response. To her surprise and yours, you muster a small smile and a wave.

"Hello." You can feel the librarians shocked eyes following you as you round the bookshelf corner to find Steve, eyes wide, mouth open in shock as he stares down at something in his hands.

Your heart plummets. A book with a soft leather cover, yellowed pages. The book of poems.

You lunge for it but he step sides you swiftly, raising the book above his head.

"Speak low if you speak of love huh? I'm not surprised you know Shakespeare, you're such a nerd." He sneers, waving the book above his head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." You stutter, backing up. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you into the air.

"Don't fuck with me!" He growls, dropping the book and kicking it to the side. "Who's Orpheus?"

"G-Greek hero. Musician." You stutter and he slaps you, hard. You can feel your cheek swelling under his fiery gaze.

"Don't even try me. Who. Is. Orpheus?"

"I don't know, I swear!" You mutter, wincing when you accidentally bite your cheek.

He drops you, watching as you scramble to your feet, backing away.

"This isn't over you little shit. I'll be back for you," he warns, giving your book one last kick for good measure before storming out of the library with Tony and Bucky on his heels.

You fall to your knees, silently sobbing as you crawl over too the book, dusting it off and hugging it to your chest.

Yelena sighs, her heart breaking as she watches you curl around the book protectively, lying on the floor.

-----------

"Where are you going?"

Yelena turns to find Nat, leaning against the school stairwell doorway, watching her.

"Just up to the roof. Need some fresh air," she lies, avoiding Nat's gaze. Nat lifts Yelena's chin up, staring into her eyes, boring into her very soul. Yelena squirms under her gaze until she finally lets go.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles sadly at her little sister. "Just-" Her voice cracks as she pats her sister's shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry. I won't." She gives Nat a brief hug before hiking her pants up and starting up the stairs.

-----------

"Ah, well look who decided to join the party!" You look up from the ground to see Yelena, your eyes clouded with pain.

"No..." You croak but Steve pays no attention to you.

"Come to save your love Yelena?" He sneers, dropping you to the ground. "Or should I say... Orpheus?" Your eyes widen as you watch him advance towards her, pushing her closer to the edge of the roof.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She deadpans and Steve chuckles.

"Sure. If you won't admit, I'll just have to settle for destroying you from the inside out instead." He grabs her by the arm. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me." He points at a long thin scar along his jawline.

You watch as Tony sneaks up from behind Yelena, striking her with a metal bar. She crumples, falling to her knees.

"Hold her." Steve directs and Bucky dutifully grabs you by the arms. He holds Yelena's chin in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "Now you watch as I destroy the one thing you love the most." Tony tosses his the metal bar and Steve prepares himself before swinging it like a baseball bat.

There's a sickening crunch followed by your scream as the bar makes contact with your ribs.

"Stop!" She struggles, her eyes never leaving your broken body as he hits you over and over again. "Please! Leave her alone!"

Steve smiles evilly, locking eyes with her before swinging the bat again. Another scream. Blood trickles down your face from your nose.

"Is that right? Did the famous Yelena Belova just beg me?" He smiles cruelly before pushing you down on your back, his foot on your chest. You scream as he increases the pressure, your broken ribs digging into your lungs.

Yelena screams, kicking Tony's legs out from under him before punching Steve in the jaw. She grabs the iron bar before it hits the ground, clobbering Bucky in the stomach before kicking Steve in the stomach.

"ты сука (you bitch)!" She steps on his face swiftly, taking satisfaction in the groan of pain he emits before turning to you, gently cradling your face.

"Wow... That was pretty badass," you mumble and she laughs, tearing up. You reach out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry." She frowns.

"I'm not crying."

"You are too." You smile, wincing in pain. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let this happen." You frown, caressing her face, forcing her to look at you.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Don't worry. I'll be fine." You attempt to smile reassuringly but it comes out as more of a grimace. "Listen, if I don't make it-"

"Don't say that! You can't leave me!"

"Shush, listen you thickheaded poet. If I don't make it, go back to the book." You instruct her. She frowns but you can her off. "Promise me."

"But-"

"Promise me."

"I promise..."

"Good." You smile at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, your eyesight blurring. "Wait for me okay?" Your eyes flutter shut.

"No! No Y/N! Come back!" She shakes you roughly, sobbing when you don't respond.

----------

Yelena watches as your body is carted off under a white sheet. Nat stands to the side, watching as her sister stares off into the distance, all life drained from her body.

Go back to the book.

She stands, slowly trailing towards the library, her eyes bloodshot, cheeks caked with dry tears.

"Hi dear," the librarian greets her, discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "What a shame. She was a lovely girl."

"She really was the best." Yelena agrees quietly, giving the librarian a small, comforting pat on the back before moving to the back of the library where she finds the book, lying on the floor.

Yelena,

I believe that we are the greatest love poem ever written. I love you always,

Y/N

A choked sob escapes her lips as she stares at the page. You knew. You knew the whole time and you didn't even say anything. A pair of soft arms wrap around Yelena's stomach as she lets go of the dam, her cries echoing throughout the library.

"I'm sorry..."

I'm sorry...

----------

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain112

[10-19-17uswnt]

You didn’t know? - Mal Pugh x Reader

A/N this wasn’t prompted, it’s just something I came up with so let me know what you think :) Also for the purposes of this story Lindsey, Mal, and Reader all grew up in Denver Colorado.

To be fair you thought everyone already knew, and it’s not like you were hiding it. So it is understandable to see why you were so confused when you got back to your room shared with Kelley to find the whole team waiting for you. You glance around the room and see Lindsey give you a sympathetic look, which only continues to confuse you, before finally settling on Mal silently asking her whats going on which she answers with a shrug.

“Hey guys... what’s up?” you say to the group as you take a seat beside your girlfriend.

“Okay now that you’re both here I just want to start off by saying that we love you both very much and we only want to see two happy.” Christen says glancing around as the others nod in agreement.

“Now that both of who is here? What’s going on?” you’re getting more and more anxious the longer it takes for them to tell you what’s going on.

“This is an intervention (Y/N).” Ash tells you bluntly “You and Mal need to get your heads out of your asses and shack up already.”

She gets a nice slap on the back of her head and a very angry “Ash!” from Ali at this.

You’re shocked. The team is holding an intervention for you and your girlfriend to get together, but you already are. You take a second to look at Mal and find that she is just as confused as you are. Just as you are about to respond Lindsey speaks up from her spot in the corner of the room.

“I’m so sorry! I tried to buy you guys some time and convince them this wasn’t a good idea but they wouldn’t listen.”

Several surprised voices speak out at once at the revelation. “WAIT WHAT!?” and “YOU KNEW!?” being the only things I’m able to catch before they all start talking over themselves.

You and Mal share another glance before you both bust out laughing. As you continue to laugh the voices slowly start to dissipate before the only sound left in the room is the sound of your combined laughter.

“What’s so funny?” multiple voices ask at once.

“Do you want to tell them or should I?” Mal says looking at me while trying to keep her laughter at bay.

“You can tell ‘em babe” you say through a fit of giggles

“BABE!?” you immediately hear Emily screech, only causing you to laugh harder.

“So as you know Me, (Y/N), and Lindsey all grew up together in Denver but since Linds is older we didn’t meet her until her senior year when we were all on the high school team together. (Y/N) and I however were neighbors and have been in classes together since Kindergarten. We’ve been dating since our freshman year so that’s how Linds knows and we just assumed that everyone else knew since everyone knew about us on the youth national teams. We haven’t had to tell anyone since we were eight-teen because they already knew, and it’s not like we try to hide it so we honestly thought you knew.” You smile at Mal as she tells the condensed version of your story, as she finishes you grab her hand and bring it to your lips for a soft kiss.

“You forgot the best part babe.” you say as Mal gives you a confused look to which your only response is a mischievous smirk. “And what might that be?” she asks, giving in to her curiosity.

“That we’re married of course!” you say holding back a laugh at the reaction of your teammates who are too stunned to speak.  

“HOLD UP! REWIND THE TAPE REAL QUICK! DID YOU SAY MARRIED!?” Emily screams breaking the silence

“That I didn’t know about” Lindsey says once she realizes everyone was looking to her to see if she was keeping that from them too.

“Oh silly me, how could I forget.” Mal says stifling a giggle.

“So you’re telling me that the two of you got married without your bestfriend!” Emily says for once without yelling.

At the same time Mal and I respond “(Y/N) is my best friend.”/ “Mal is my best friend” and give each other a high five without looking.

“Your bestfriend besides each other then.” Emily says exasperated

“Well Rose was in Ohio at the time and Tierna was in California so it probably would’be been hard to convince their parents to let them travel to Colorado for two six year old’s wedding.” you say holding back a grin while waiting to see if anyone caught it.

Looking around you see relief flash across many of the veterans faces having caught that the two of you aren’t actually married. You also see Tierna and Rose high five at being named your best friends over Emily.

“So you’re not married?” Sam asks confused

“No, not in the eyes of the law at least,” you say chuckling “I just wanted to see you guys sweat.”

You pull a chain from around your neck revealing the 25 cent ring from your kindergarten wedding. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna trade in this baby for the real thing in a few years.” you say winking at Mal as you tuck it back into your shirt.

You watch as a blush creeps up Mal’s face, she gives you a shy smile as she moves to hide her face in the crook of your neck. You can feel feather light kisses before she whispers, “I can’t wait.” She pulls away slowly and the two of you share a grin.

A chorus of “Aww” brings you out of your bubble as you turn to your teammates. 

“We’re so happy for you guys!” Kelley yells before tackling the two of you to your bed which initiates a group hug.

The rest of the night is spent telling stories about your childhood together, how you got together, and Lindsey revealing how she thought the whole thing was supposed to be a secret.

Your personal favorite story being how Mal punched a 3rd grader three times her size at your recess wedding for calling you dykes, and then punching the same kid nine years later for doing the same thing when the two of you finally got together in high school. (Don’t tell Ali, but this was Ash’s favorite too)

He came out three years later and reached out to the two of you to apologize and Mal begrudgingly apologized for breaking his nose. Twice.

Around midnight everyone started heading back to their own rooms and as you were saying your goodbyes Kelley told you she was going to room with Christen tonight so that you an Mal could spend the night together. She and Chris where the last to leave so you both thanked them and started getting ready for bed.

As you lay down with Mal tucked into you in a way that feels like you were made to hold each other just like this you can’t help but smile. You mumble an “I love you” into her forehead as you leave a kiss there. Right before you drift to sleep you hear her speak into your neck “I love you too (Y/N), sweet dreams babe” And sweet dreams they were, every time with Mal in your arms your dreams are of your future with her.

[hotpinkrathian]

20 Years Ago Pt 1

(Kyalin)

Kya stood back with a grin. She did it. Despite her mother's doubts she had successfully pulled off the perfect highschool reunion. People were chatting, dancing and congratulating her.

"Well Kya, you did it." Her bother said, standing beside her with a glass of punch.

"Don't drink that," she said, "it's spiked."

"How do you even know that?" He asked  looking into the cup.

"Waterbenders intuition." She lied. Truthfully, she had been the one to spike it.

"Look," Tenzin said, gesturing to the door."

"Hmmm?" She turned her head, her brows furrowing.  Lin Beifong.

"What is she doing here?" Kya asked, she knew for a fact she didn't invite her.

"I asked her to come," Tenzin explained, "she doesn't get out a lot and well, I thought it'd be nice for you two to see each other." Kya rolled her eyes. She had no business with Lin, and the idea her brother thought otherwise was stupid.

"I have nothing to say to her." Kya stated, taking his cup and downing it.

"It seems like you do." Tenzin replied, letting his sister walk away.

Kya huffed, sitting down at her table, two cups of punch in her hands, both of which were for her. It seemed everyone here was having a good time, except her. She couldn't help it, Lin's prescence set her off.

"How am I supposed to enjoy myself when she's lurking around?" She spoke to herself, taking a drink from the left cup.

"Still talking to yourself, I see." Lin said, sitting next to her.

"Still condescending, I see." Kya mocked, finishing one of her drinks. Lin reached a hand over, grabbing the other one.

"Thats mine." Kya said. Lin raised an eyebrow, keeping eye contact with the older woman.

"Then take it." Kya looked at her quizzically, Lin had a sadistic grin on her face, like she was enjoying Kya's anger.

"No." Kya replied, "you have it. On me." Lin smirked, placing her lips to the cup and downing the whole thing  her face unraveling in a look of disgust.

"Thats so sweet." The metalbender groaned.

"Some people like sweet things." Kya retorted. Lin sighed, glancing to the stage.

"You know, we're kind of old to be doing this." Lin said.

"I think I know how long to hold a grudge." Kya replied, refusing to look her in the eyes.

"Raava, Kya do you even remember what you hate me for?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Then enlighten me."

"It was my senior year, you promised to come with me to prom, we had it planned and everything.  Then someone started dating my brother and ditched me to give a blow job behind the bleachers. I had no other friends Lin, everyone hated me for... well, you know, and you just... you left me alone. To be ridiculed by my entire grade. I had to leave out the back door because by the end of the night I was covered in punch and didn't want to be seen by the cameras."

"Okay, wow. First of all, it wasn't a blow job." Lin started, "second of all, I didn't mean to leave you. I just didn't know how long it would take."

"Oh my God, Lin, do you not hear yourself?" Kya asked, "you left me alone on my night to fuck my brother. Dick move, by the way."

"I wasnt fucking your brother!"

"Right so he let everyone believe that you and him fucked for the rest of the year?"

"Yes!"

"Really? You think I'm that stupid?"

"Kya, ask Tenzin. We didn't do anything that night, I didn't have the guts too. I never intended for he and I to do anything but he got ahead of himself and told all his friends so I told him not to worry about it." Kya looked away in disbelief.

"If that was true, why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried, you were so upset and 'banned me from the island. I asked that idiot arrowhead to talk to you but I guess he never did." Kya stared at her, unsure of what to make of this. Lin had lied before, but she seemed so sincere... stop. Remember how you felt.

"I'm not listening to this. I have a speech to give." Lin slammed a fist on the table and let Kya go. The watsrbender made her way to the stage, motioning for the crows to gather.

"I just want to say how happy I am everyone could make it today." She began, "it's been a long time since we've seen each other and I have to say I'm absolutely thrilled with the people you have all become."

"I'd like to say something!" Kya looked down at the speaker, he had a hat on, a jersey for some pro bending team and awfully greasy shorts. Roy Cavanaugh. The idiot who had splattered her with punch on prom night.

"Well I'm not really-"

"Roy! Roy! Roy!" The crowd chanted.

"Fine," Kya caved, "come here." He climbed onto the stage, taking the mic from her and holding it a little to close to his mouth.

"Can I just say," he started, "had I known you were gonna look like that when you were older I would've been nicer to you." Kya pursed her lips.

"Thats enough-"

"With that being said, are you still a dyke? Because I'd like to show you my-" Kya took the mic from him, staring at him angrily. Laughter mixed with awkward silence. She stared into the crowd, their familiar beady eyes focusing on her. Passing their judgment and she realized then and there she didn't want this reunion to see people, she wanted closure.

"Roy," she said, "you're an idiot. You always will be. Maru," she directed to his wife, "he cheated on you. Multiple times with Christine. Blonde hair, two girls down. Yeah that one." Roy looked at her, his eyes begging her to stop.

"Also," she said, "we all know it was you who shit on the floor during gym class. Everyone did. Just some of us were decent enough human beings to spare you that guilt. Now get out of my party." He jumped off the stage, his friends no longer sticking beside him, his wife ignoring his call.

"Oh to answer your question," Kya called before he left, "I am still a dyke. And that's not going to change for any of you." She smiled, satisfied with herself. She caught a glimpse of Lin who had a look on her face that resembled a smile. She dropped the mic, marching down the stage steps with gusto when she fell backward and collided with the steps.

"Kya. Kya. Kya, wake up." Kya's eyes batted open, pushing past the pulsing sensation in her head.

"Where am I?"

"The school gym."

"Why?"

"You slipped. Hit your head pretty bad." Lin said, pushing her down when she tried to sit up.

"Wheres Tenzin?"

"Jinora got sick, he went home. He sat here with you though, for an hour."

"How long was I out?"

"Three hours."

"Three hours?!" Kya tried to sit up, but her head refused her.

"Stop moving so much, just lay on this." Lin took off her coat, bundling it up and placing it under her head.

"Where is everyone" Kya asked.

"They went home. After your speech and... trip, I guess they decided they didn't deserve to be here." Kya snorted, taking the water Lin offered her and holding the freezing ice to her head.

"That works too," Lin said, moving beside her.

"Why did you stay?" Kya asked, moving her eyes to Lin.

"I am a police officer, it wouldn't look good if I left an injured person here."

"Oh." Kya said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"But also... I wasn't done talking earlier."

"You? Lin Beifong had more to say. I'll be damned." Lin laughed slightly before taking a deep inhale.

"I'm sorry, for everything." She said, "what I did to you that night, it wasnt fair." Kya smiled  reaching her free hand to Lin's and holding her leg.

"Can I be completely honest with you?" Kya inquired.

"Of course."

"I think I over reacted, just a bit."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, now shush. I... I had feelings for you, back then." Kya admitted. She felt herself blush, and immediately regretted everything she had said.

"Kya, I know you won't forget that night and the trauma it caused you, but you shouldn't know I never meant to hurt you. I didn't go because I was scared. I made these other plans because I didn't want people to see me with you and-"

"You were embarrassed of me?"

"What? No, God no... Kya I didn't want people to see me with you and talk because I knew that if we danced, or shared a drink, I'd have to confront the part of myself that liked you, too. And if that was true then what other rumors were?" Kya looked at Lin in disbelief. All this time, all this hatred she had kept for Lin when the true enemy was fear. She pushed herself up, leaning against the wall and putting the ice next to her.

"Lin," she spoke softly," I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to feel that way. If I pressured you or-" before she could finish, Lin's lips met hers. She was taken aback by how soft Lin's lips her. The Beifong kissed with so much emphasis and emotion Kya had to pull away for a moment.

"Lin..." she whispered, "you have no idea how many times I thought of this moment."

"I think I do," Lin replied, "I thought of it everyday for the last 20 years." Kya grinned, pressing her forhead against Lin's before wincing in pain.

"You're in pain." Lin said, pulling away.

"No I'm fine just a little headache." She winced again and Lin moved to her knees, standing up and offering her hand.

"Come on." Lin said.

"This unnecessary really Lin-"

"You can't stand, can you?" Kya shook her head.  Lin side, bending down and reaching one hand under her shoulders and the other under her hips. She pushed, taking Kya in her arms with a grunt.  Kya blushed when Lin met her gaze, doing her best to keep her head up.

"Are you going to carry me all the way back to the island?" Kya asked.

"Maybe. I was going to put you in the back seat of my satomobile."

"That works." Kya replied. Lin carried the Waterbender out of the highschool gym, Kya stifled a chuckle at the disaster her party had turned into. At least she'd missed most of it.

Kya had fallen asleep on the drive over to the docks, waking up briefly to get on the ferry before passing out again on the railing. Lin must've carried her all the way to the temple because when she finally came too, she was on the couch in her childhood home.

"Well, she might not remember that part." Kya blinked her eyes open, seeing her mother and Lin sharing tea over the coffee table.

"Good morning." Katara said, getting up and putting a hand to her daughters head.

"What time is it?"

"Six."

"In the morning?" Kya exclaimed. As if on cue Lin opened the blinds, revealing the sun as it peaked over the horizon.

"Lin caught me up, dear," Katara said, "you had a minor concussion, nothing I couldn't fix. But please take it easy okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, Mom." Kya pushed herself up, accepting the cup of tea Lin handed her.

"So, how big of a fool did I make of myself?" Kya asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Eh, I've seen worse. If they didn't remember you before, they do now." Kya sighed, taking a sip of the tea.

"Well it is what it is." She whispered. They sat in silence for a moment before Lin stood up.

"Where are you going?" Kya asked, motioning to follow her.

"Relax," Lin said, pushing her back onto the sofa, "I'm just going to bathroom."

"Oh."

"Was the whole night not enough time to catch up?" Lin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well no, I was passed out for most of it." Lin chuckled slightly and Kya blushed again.

"Then I'll be right back."

"Okay." Kya watched her go with a longing look in her eye. She looked back to her mother who shook her head with a dumb grin.

"Oh stop." Kya scolded.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to."

"She stayed awake the whole night you know." Katara said.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Whatever you say, dear." Kya pursed her lips, looking back in the direction Lin had disappeared to.

Well shit.

[letaliabane]

Last Connection

warnings: MAJOR spoilers for last of us 2!!

pairing: joel miller x reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2K words

prompts (If you would like to request a prompt, please include the name of the list and the number of the prompts)

21. A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company (50 Types of Kisses Prompts)

27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap (50 Types of Kisses Prompts)

‘I still can’t believe that bigot Seth said that in front of everyone! Couldn’t just keep to himself could he?’

Leaning against the open doorway, I watched Joel as he paced across the back deck. He had only just returned from the small get together Tommy and Maria had put together in the main hall. 

I had skipped out due to the queasiness in my stomach that I had been feeling for the past few days. But it wasn’t too long before I heard shouts of disdain erupt from the area, watching from the bedroom window as Joel made his was back to the house, silent as many of the other men of Jackson yelling after him.

‘So he called Dina and Ellie a-’

‘A dyke, that's what he called them.’

I shook my head, scoffing in disgust. Many people in Jackson weren’t as modernised as the young groups within the settlement, and many of them were just plain old bigots.

‘Well, in that case he deserved what he had coming to him. I’m glad you knocked some sense into him.’ 

Joel just huffed, collapsing against the chair resting against the wall, running a hand down his face.

‘Y/N ... Ellie wasn’t happy. She was quite forward with me, told me to keep out of it.’

I sighed, remaining silent. 

I knew why there was so much tension between the two. When they had returned to Jackson, Joel confessed to escaping with Ellie from the hospital where she was to be operated on, explaining how he couldn’t just give up the girl he came to see as his own daughter. I didn’t question his motives, only took him into my arms, and hugged him tightly.

However a few months ago, when the two were on the lookout, they returned a week later than promised, both silent, and Ellie ignoring Joel at all costs. That’s when I realised and was later confirmed, that she had found out the truth about why they had left the hospital.

He glanced towards me, sighing heavily before tapping his thigh. I made my way over to him, sitting on his lap and wrapping my arms around him, allowing him to lean his head against my chest.

‘Just give her time. I know that’s the last thing you want to do but just allow her to come around.’

He hummed against my neck as I ran my fingertips through the ends of his hair. I looked down as Joel pulled away, squeezing my cheek gently, ‘You have any idea of how much I love you?’

I smile at his words, pretending to think, ‘Well, I think I have some idea.’ 

He chuckles, quickly pecking me to quiet me down, pressing an even firmer kiss barely seconds later, pulling me close against his chest, his hand gripping the back of my head and waist. 

It was only when the distant knocking upon wood rang through the rest of the house that I pulled away, Joel groaning as I did. ‘No, just ignore it-’

‘But darling that would be impolite,’ I say with a giggle as he rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he reached for his guitar that rested against the wooden railings. Quickly, I crossed the house, opening the door to find Ellie, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. 

‘Hey Ellie, how you doing this evening?’ 

She smiled gently, walking forward into my open arms, squeezing me tightly. 

‘Hey Y/N, I’m alright. Um-Is Joel back? I noticed he left early tonight and I just wanted to check in on him.’

‘Of course, come in, he’s just out back.’ She nodded, making her way in, but as I shut the door, I noticed she wavered, nervously picking at the skin of her nails.

‘What is it El?’

She looked up, wide-eyed before sighing, ‘I may have snapped at him at the dance. I’m guessing he told you.’

I nodded, still smiling, ‘He did indeed. But I think you two need to talk more than anything else. He really wants things to be good with you El. I just hope you know all he has is good intentions towards you.’

Ellie nodded, giving me a weak smile before I nodded towards the back door where the strumming of the guitar could be heard, ‘Go on.’  

I groaned as I was shaken awake gently at the shoulder, sighing as Joel’s lips grazed my ear, ‘Sweetheart I’m heading out.’

‘Already? It’s not even light out yet,’ I murmur tiredly, barely peaking my eyes open as I glanced towards the bedroom door where Tommy stood, his gun over his shoulder. 

‘Sorry to pull him away from you Y/N, but watch just sighted a hoard of infected and we’re the next on duty so I thought we should take care of it as quickly as possible.’ 

I waved him away. ‘No, no! Duty calls Tommy. Just bring him back in one piece and I’ll spare you.’ 

He chuckled, giving you a nod, ‘Will do.’ 

I looked back up to Joel, cupping his face gently with a sleepy grin, ‘Come back to me, alright cowboy?’

‘Always,’ He said with a small smirk as he gave me a chaste kiss, pressing one more to my forehead before following his younger brother out of the room. 

I couldn’t help but wrap my shawl around my shoulders as I padded towards the window, watching as the two mounted their horses before disappearing into the thick smog. 

A few hours later, after completing a few chores around the house, I sat on the front porch, embroidering blossoming carnations into the satin Joel had found spare in one of the knitting baskets left behind in one of the houses he had scoured through on duty. 

I sighed softly as I paused, taking a look over my work with a smile when I heard shouting and cries in the distance. I peered up to see people moving towards the entrance of the settlement, discarding the embroidery ring to also follow the crowd.

As I grew closer I could hear gasps of horror, crying and yells of anguish. Pushing through I made my way to the front, stopping at the sight of Ellie. 

Blood and bruises painted her face, helped by Dina and Jesse shoulder to shoulder, barely standing on her feet. At the sight of me, a sob left her lips as she threw herself at me, clinging to me as she cried uncontrollably. 

'Ellie? Sweetheart what’s the matter?’ 

When she continued to cry, I looked towards her friends, their heads turned away with tears filling their eyes. It was only when my eyes fell upon Tommy that I noticed the wrapped up body on the back of his horse. 

‘Tommy?’

It felt as if the air had left me as I pulled away from Ellie, stumbling towards Tommy as he laid the body down in the snow. 

‘Tommy who is that?!’ His eyes flickered up towards me, rimmed red, swollen as I stood before him, my chest rising and falling quickly as he just shook his head. 

‘I’m so sorry Y/N.’ 

I pulled away from him, shaking my head as I looked down once again at the body, the cloth that was tightly wrapped around it stained with patches of blood. I fell to my knees, my hand shaking as I pulled the sheet away, only for a choked gasp to leave my lips. 

The man’s face was barely recognisable, face bloodied, bruised, and crushed. It was only for the small brooch that was on the coat that I recognized instantly. A blue carnation. 

The tears fell fast as I grasped Joel’s face ever so carefully as if he was made of porcelain glass. 

‘Joel? God no please ...’ I whimpered, pressing my forehead to his cheek, ignoring the fresh blood that painted my face as I press kisses to his cold skin, gripping his lifeless hand to my chest. 

‘Darling please open your eyes. Please, please ...’ 

The cries that left me where loud, the words that left me almost inaudible as I struggled to breathe, my hands roaming Joel’s body, shaking him as if he was in a deep sleep. 

I staggered to my feet, taking a mere few steps backwards before collapsing, someone clambering to grab me, eyes slipping shut as Ellie distantly called my name. 

A WEEK LATER

I awoke suddenly as knocking echoed throughout the house, whimpering softly as I unwrapped Joel’s large coat from around me. I couldn’t help but sigh heavily, pressing the material against my cheek, inhaling the smell of wood, pine, his strong cologne- 

I flinched when a second round of knocking erupted through the house, and slowly, I made my way out of bed, pulling on the coat as I made my way through the silent house. 

Opening the door, I paused at the sight of Ellie and Dina, giving them a very tired smile. Both had dark circles under their eyes, drained and emotionally exhausted.

‘Afternoon ladies, come on in.’ 

Ellie nodded quietly, walking straight inside. Dina on the other hand, paused to embrace me, just as quickly pulling away as she squeezed my hand, leading me inside. 

‘How are you Y/N?’

‘As best as I can be Dina.’ She nodded with a smile, not pushing any further on the subject before following me to the dining room where Ellie fidgeted, once again playing with the skin at her nails as she had weeks before. 

‘The things are upstairs El, I’ll get it for you.’ 

She nodded, ‘I’ll come with you.’ 

I made my way up, distantly hearing Dina explain she’d remain downstairs. Reentering the bedroom, I made my way over to a table. As I took up the box, I glanced over the photo of Joel and Sarah, and the second of him and Ellie. 

A great sadness filled my chest as I turned once more to Ellie who stood not too far away, taking in the many carvings Joel had completed recently, some unvarnished, some half painted. 

‘Here is what I found after clearing his clothes, I think he would like you to have these.’ 

She took the box carefully, opening it with a gasp as she sighted Joel’s gun as well a pair of his jeans and jacket that I knew still had his smell. Ellie looked up at me, lip trembling as the tears filled her eyes. 

‘Y/N I’m going after Abby. I know Tommy probably told you and wants you to stop me but you can’t I’m still gonna go after them because I can’t let them get away with this-’

‘Ellie,’ I stopped her, placing my hands on her shoulders, ‘I will not stop you. And I know that even if I tried you would still go. And Tommy and Maria will completely disagree, but I would do the same thing.‘

Her eyes widened, almost hopeful, ‘Then come with us! Y/N we can do it-we can take her together-’

‘I would Ellie ... if I wasn’t pregnant.’ 

‘W-what?’ Ellie said, the box falling from her grip, slamming against the floor. I sighed softly, taking her hands into mine, ‘I found out a few days before he-you know. I was waiting to tell him when he returned from patrol.’ 

‘Oh Y/N ... why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because you have enough on your plate sweetheart. I’m sorry for keeping it from you I just didn’t want to stop you from your journey. I would come along, I really would, but this is our last connection to Joel, and I’d hate to throw it away. But Ellie, know that I believe in what you’re doing, and always know that I will be here for you if you decide to come home because you were always mine and Joel’s baby girl.’

The loud sob that erupted from the young girl’s throat tore my heart, her arms wrapping around me, holding me tight to her as she cried into my shoulder, tears staining Joel’s jacket. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, my own tears falling against her hair, squeezing her tighter.

A/N: THIS WAS SUPER LONG I APOLOGISE. But I’ve had this idea in my head for ages I thought I’d write it. I think I may make an epilogue? We’ll see. ALSO PLEASE DON’T COMMENT SPOILERS, I HAVEN’T ENTIRELY FINISHED THE GAME STILL FINISHING IT! 

Requests are open for Last of Us Requests! You can also request with prompts just remember the list(s) and number(s) you wanna include. 

Masterlist

[magniloquent-raven]

I love your trans-billy! I need more <3

AW OMG IM SO FLATTERED!! it was just a little vent fic tbh, but i have been wanting to write more trans billy because the fandom needs more of it, so here is a part two!

(read part one here)

(i do get into billy’s childhood a little bit in this part, so cw: child abuse mentions)

--

seems like billy's whole damn life is just a series of stupid choices and him dealing with the consequences of his own impulsiveness.

started young and never stopped. when he was six he chopped off all his hair in the school bathroom right before class photos. didn't even consider what would happen when he walked out of that room, he just felt wrong and wanted to fix it.

he had to walk around for months with a patchy hack-job because neil refused to pay to get it fixed. his mom said she'd try to make it better but billy wouldn't let her touch it. he was afraid she'd try to make him pretty again. undo all his hard work.

after that it was easier to sneak into groups of boys unnoticed, like the kids three streets down who were always playing basketball in the empty parking lot. they'd turned him away before, took one look at him and sneered that a girl couldn't keep up.

but after he put on a pair of too-big cargo shorts he stole off the neighbours clothes' line, and a t-shirt he'd hacked the sleeves off of, with his newly shorn hair all they did was make fun of him for looking poor. but they let him play.

months later, they hadn't caught on, even though his hair was growing out, and he wore the same clothes every time he saw them. he was starting to get nervous about being discovered.

what he didn't expect was neil discovering him first.

it was the first time his dad really hit him. more than just grabbing his arm, or shoving him a little. the first time he left scars.

he said if billy wanted to act like a boy, he'd get taught like one.

and life was a constant battle after that. even when he had his mother in his corner, it was usually a losing one. after she left there was barely any point in fighting at all, but he could never seem to stop entirely.

not when this was, according to his father's standards, what it takes to be a man.

but in trying to prove himself, he ended up in some fucked up places.

on the floor in his bedroom, his back torn open and the sharp crack of a belt ringing in his ears, still refusing to admit that tearing up the dress his nana made him wasn't an accident.

under the bleachers, blowing a guy who called him a dyke one too many times. then leaving him with his pants down and a broken nose 'cause he wouldn't stop trying for more than that.

waking up in a hospital bed, eighteen years old and wondering why he's still alive. being told it's a miracle. being told he was heroic. saved some little girl. got his name in the paper.

four months later taking a bus to chicago, picking out a new name on the way and never looking back.

and he might be living a whole new life here, but that doesn't mean he left all his stupid back in california.

it's been a week since he spent an afternoon half-conscious in steve's arms, and things have been disturbingly normal between them. steve hasn't asked any weird questions, or commented on billy being pathetic and needy, or acted like things have changed.

they haven't talked about any of it, and it's making billy nervous.

he's not sure what he thought would happen when he asked steve to hold him, to stay, he wasn't thinking at all, really, so now he's gotta deal with that.

problem is, he hasn't been dealing well. he's been dodging steve's calls. he's been jumpy, freezing up when steve comes anywhere near him.

which, he's come to notice, he does a lot. always sitting next to billy when they hang out in groups, always brushing past a little closer than necessary when he slips by him to leave the room.

and now. steve's insinuated himself into billy's evening, showing up unannounced with beer and a blindingly cheerful grin, sitting next thigh-to-thigh on the lumpy love-seat. and. billy's grinding his teeth. pretending to pay attention to the tv and not steve's warm leg pressed to his knee.

touching steve has always been a special kind of glorious agony, but now. now it's all that and week-old memories of soft lips brushing his forehead, remembering what it was like to wake up in his arms, feeling dizzy with warmth and want and...

steve's knee shifts, presses firmer against his, and billy can't take it anymore.

"alright, that's it!" he's on his feet, fists balled at his side, steve blinking up at him with his big dumb precious doe-eyes, and he trembles like an indignant cat. "the hell is up with you, harrington?" he snaps, pointing an accusing finger.

steve stares at him, mouth agape. "...um. nothing?" his cheeks are pink, and billy wants so badly to kiss him 'til he blushes everywhere.

he swallows hard, and crosses his arms. "c'mon, man, don't lie to me. it's been a week—" his voice falters, but he sets his jaw, tilts his chin like a challenge.

when he woke up that night, steve drooling on his shoulder, arm securely around his waist, he panicked. he shoved steve off of him, and they spent the next twenty minutes in tense, awkward silence while billy cleaned up and ignored steve. steve, who stayed, ordered a pizza, payed for it, and then left without eating a single slice.

and then.

nothing.

for a goddamn week. hanging out like nothing happened.

"i—" steve chokes on air, breaking eye-contact. "i mean. i didn't think you—" he's sinking in on himself, retreating into the couch, his gaze wandering the room listlessly. billy would feel bad if he wasn't so amped up on nervous energy, thrumming with adrenaline, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "i'm sorry."

billy blinks. "you're sorry."

"yeah?" steve glances at him, but only for a second before he ducks his head. he picks at his nails, frowning at his own hands in his lap. "i...i can go, i...sorry if i made things weird."

"if you...made things...weird," billy repeats, slowly. like it'll make any more sense coming from his own mouth.

it doesn't.

he deflates a little. steve looks up at him, expression pinched, bemused.

"are you just gonna repeat everything i say, or...?"

"harrington, i swear to god," billy grits out, "start making sense, or fuck off."

at least billy understands what's happening when guys sneer and leave after they find out the only dick they'll ever get from him is made of silicone. this clusterfuck is just...hurting his brain.

steve opens and closes his mouth soundlessly. "um..." he runs a restless hand through his hair. "i thought...you know...i got a little too, um. affectionate. last week. and you seemed so freaked out when you woke up, i...figured we could just, like, move on. act like nothing happened. 'cause it'd be easier?"

"what."

"but clearly that wasn't it—" he cuts himself off, and sags, groaning, head falling into his hands. "shit, i'm an idiot. billy, i'm so dumb, i'm so sorry. you were worried about how i'd react to. um." he pauses. gestures towards billy's crotch. "right?"

billy flushes. "i wasn't—can you stop pointing at it, jesus christ. i wasn't worried. i was just..." he trails off and bites his lip. shifts his weight around awkwardly. he's usually so much better at thinking on his feet, but fucking hell is he so off-balance right now. too thrown off to even come up with a little white lie.  

steve drops his hand, looking sheepish. "look, i...you never said anything, so i didn't mention it either. i'm not...it isn't any of my business if you don't want it to be."

"...do you want it to be?" billy's heart is in his mouth as he says it, pulse stuttering, tripping over itself.

"i—" steve's eyes widen. they stare at each other for a beat. the moment stretches, the drone of the tv in the background the only noise in the apartment. "are you asking what i think you're asking? because i don't want to assume and—" he trails off with a strangled noise when billy steps forward and climbs into his lap.

he's barely touching him, knees brushing his hips, sitting mid-thigh, keeping his hands to himself. but it still feels...intimate. steve's gaze heavy on him, inches away. knowing that if he put his hand on steve's chest he'd feel his heart racing.

"i'm asking," billy says quietly.

he sees this kiss coming and yet he still doesn't expect it. doesn't expect to be touched so softly, his face cradled like something precious. doesn't expect the way his stomach swoops, heart clenching, tense for a second before something warm blooms in his chest.

when he curls his fingers into the front of steve's shirt he does, in fact, feel his heart racing.

[pla-teau]

WANDAVISION EPISODE EIGHT THOUGHTS

GIF NOT MINE

HOLY SHIT THIS EPISODE TORE ME TO SHREDS & IT’S VISUALLY MY FAVORITE EPISODE.

hayward fucking lied | that manipulative weasel tried to pin all this on wanda to make her look like the bad guy and at the end she did absolutely nothing wrong except maybe cost them new windows. i believe hayward knew that wanda was going to be the power source to bring vision back to life. he hinted at it and i think he tried to push her at SWORD headquarters. when the hex happened, he put the missile on the drone knowing damn well wanda would stop it. he knew that after he detected that she created a copy of vision within the hex, she was the key to completing their rebuilding of vision. overall, my hatred for the man has reached a new level and i hope he dies at the end of the series.

white vision | obviously referring to project catarract that darcy found in SWORD’s hardrive. when i said i wanted white vision to appear, i didn’t mean this way and i’ve seen some theories floating around that maybe james spader will voice this vision? and if this is the big secret actor paul has been saying he’s going to work with — i will laugh and cry because i am one of those who was thinking we’d get an x-men cameo with either professor x or magneto and i’m gonna hold out hope. if it is just vision vs. vision, i don’t doubt i’ll love it. so excited to see this vision though it’ll hurt to see vision battle wanda since this whole episode just showed us how much they loved each other.

wanda and vision’s relationship | we got to see a very sweet and deep moment between the two in the avengers compounds after age of ultron. when i tell you i damn near cried into my pillow, it made my heart ache. they really are fucking soulmates. i didn’t originally care for the couple but this show really showcased how despite being the pairing of a witch and an android, there is still so much LOVE between these two. i broke when i saw the deed to the lot and vision’s note of growing old together. excuse me marvel i didn’t ask to be emotionally obliterated, thanks.

wanda’s chaos magic | clearly, we see that wanda is responsible for the creation of the hex. i think she didn’t purposely block out her creating the hex. when she said she doesn’t know how it happened, she truly doesn’t. we’ve seen her lose control once and that was after the death of pietro but it wasn’t as strong before. i believe she just blacked out a bit since she hasn’t used that much of her power before. i think with literally no one (where tf was clint? the avengers?? literally anyone????) there to help her grieve and basically keep her grounded, the wave, referring to her powers, did drown her this time and consumed her into this escapist reality where she no longer felt that pain.

wanda & sitcoms | now we learn why the show has been in the style of various television sitcoms. she’s grown up with them since she was a little girl in sokovia - her favorite being the dick van dyke show. hello i’m soft af. even when her parents were killed and she was practically at death’s door with pietro, television was there to help her get through it. in the HYDRA base, wanda still has a television to watch and help her through the days. what this episode told us is that television is wanda’s constant. i mean this in the sense that unlike people, television has always been there for her. wanda has not had a consistent group of people around her. it’s a revolving door when it comes to the people in wanda’s life. we see her alone and almost abandoned when we see how the creation of the hex happened. television is her escape which is what television provides for everyone. that’s the purpose of television shows - give you an escape from your life because in shows like the ones that have influenced wanda’s reality, they always turn out fine by the end of the episode.

agatha’s therapy | throughout this whole thing agatha is sort of giving wanda much needed therapy even if the end goal is not in wanda’s best interest. she mentions very quick about wanda being a young witch which could coincide with the idea that wanda’s always had this sort of gene in her like pietro and other mutants (if they’re going to use her to confirm the existence of the x-gene which im dying for tbh). she has a clue from the get go as to what wanda is but until she has the full picture, she doesn’t reveal it until the end of the episode. she confirms that ‘fietro’ came from a necromancy spell sooo does that mean she’s using a dead body? he was her eyes and ears but of course, wanda didn’t give up much and that plan was foiled.

wanda resurrecting vision | we learn that wanda never stole vision and brought him back to life. because she and vision are both born from the mind stone, it’s not shocking as to her practically using the chaos magic to create a vision for herself. it also explains why vision can’t live outside the hex - he was born from it and without the chaos magic, he’ll die. also, it’s peppered throughout the episode that the two are soulmates so there’s that aspect to it as well. so she hasn’t been puppeteering a corpse - that image of dead vision stems from wanda’s trauma and mentality starting to chip away at her reality. it also proves how fucking powerful this woman is because like agatha said, she’s supposed to be a thing of myth. while she did use her magic to create/resurrect vision, he’s still his own being in a sense - she doesn’t control him completely. he has his own thoughts and perceptions. he’s aware and the fact that something of wanda’s creation can do that really just showcases the power she holds in her.

agatha’s backstory | seems that agatha’s pretty smug when she’s confronted by her coven leader. it’s pretty easy to see through (in my opinion) the pleading to her mother and the rest of her coven. also kathryn hahn is simply eating up this fucking role and i’m here for it. now we learn why she has the broach, it’s her mother’s which is sweet but seeing agatha throughout the series and in the past, seems more of a token of practically massacring her coven that day. i liked seeing that snippet of her past and it seems like she’s always been drawn to the darker and more sinister side of witchcraft.

wanda’s power | as agatha comments at the end, wanda truly doesn’t know how dangerous she can be. wanda can barely remember how the hell the westview hex happened. while yes i’m here for wanda being shown and known as the most powerful being in the mcu, it’s also worth noting that she is dangerous. at the beginning of the episode, agatha rubs her nose in about how simple a protection spell is or how she studied to get her powers to where they are today. wanda doesn’t know anything about witchcraft or spells. yes, she gained powers from the infinity stone but she was made to be a weapon and even after being brought into the avengers, she wasn’t taught magic or how to tap into her chaos magic. she didn’t even know that her power was considered magic. i also think wanda’s powers are very much rooted in her emotions. we saw what she could do in age of ultron when she felt her twin die. wanda is powerful but so dangerous in this aspect. not saying that this is a bad thing but it separates wanda from other magic users like agatha, dr. strange and even loki. agatha has had years of knowledge and training to be as powerful as she is now. what separates wanda from the others is that she doesn’t have the control and mastery like them. she didn’t know that her powers could make another vision or alter the reality of a town populated by 3,000+ people. agatha is right, wanda is dangerous because she hasn’t had years to control the power she holds at her fingertips.

[braddersbangerz]

“you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person i’ve ever crossed paths with. and don’t even get me started on the sound of your voice.” For dan and graham please

CW: Past ref to childhood abuse from an asshole dad

Ryan strides into the console room, phone in hand, half paying attention to where he's walking and who he is talking to. "Hey, Yaz, have you seen-"

"Oh, piss off, will ya,"

"-Graham-" Ryan finishes. He blinks.

Yaz glances behind herself, locking her eyes with Ryan's baffled ones. "They've been having a go at one another for the last ten minutes."

"Oh," Ryan leans forward, trying to see what could cause this ruckus. "Did Liverpool beat West Ham again?"

"No idea, mate," Yaz murmurs. "Something set them off, not seen them this angry with each other before."

Ryan agrees with her assessment; of course, they have playful teasing, but this seems something a lot more serious.

But without giving either Yaz or Ryan a chance to discover more, they quickly find themselves jumping out of the way of a very irate Graham who turns, ignoring them as he jabs a finger at Dan.

"You are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I've ever crossed paths with," He shouts. "And don't even get me started on the sound of your voice."

Dan raises an eyebrow. "That's rich coming from a Dick Van Dyke, oi oi, hows ya father, cockney."

"At least I can make sounds with my mouth, you-" Graham steps closer. "-you just move it and hope something understandable comes out."

Dan glares at Graham. "Prick," He steps forward as well and shoves the other man back. "It's just like you lot from the south to have this high and mighty air 'bout you; it's no wonder us lot in the north think yous are a bunch of softies, ain't got 'nout going on in that head of yours."

Graham winds back an arm, but soon finds himself dragged back by Ryan. "Oi," He barks. "Pair of you stop it, seriously; how old are you two?"

Yaz nods, her hands wrapped around Dan's arm. "Exactly," He states. "What the hell has caused you two to start hurling insults at one another like you're two cats fighting in the streets?"

"It's him-" They both snap simultaneously. "-he doesn't know when to stop winding me up."

Ryan releases Graham when he's sure the other man isn't going to lunge forward. "Really?" He stares at Graham. "You're what? 60? And this is how you're gonna react to a possible joke gone a bit too far?"

Graham frowns at Ryan. "He said he doesn't know why I complain about my childhood 'cos it seems like I had it all, food, clothes, warm house, when he didn't have that."

"And I was right," Dan replies. "He called me a selfish dickhead after that."

Ryan looks between Graham and Dan, and he sighs. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Tell me what?" Dan snaps, some anger bleeding away from him.

"Tell him, Graham," Ryan prompts the older man who currently can't meet anyone eyes. "You're safe here like you were safe with Grace and me when you told us. He should know, and Yaz, they might understand a bit more then."

Graham sighs and slowly looks up, his eyes locking with Dan's. "I might've had all that stuff growing up, but it weren't a happy childhood, lose me mum when I was just a lad, and my dad, well the less said about him, the better 'cos the man was a horrible father after she died." Dan looks pale. "It weren't like he did much, but he never showed me love, always wanted me to be more like him, less soft, when he weren't happy, he'd give me a slap and all that," He shrugs. "He was nicer when he weren't drunk."

"I didn't know," Dan mutters. "I just assumed that you were, god," He pulls a hand down his face. "I am such a dick."

Graham huffs out a sour laugh. "Nah," He stares at the other man. "You ain't; my dad was the dick, only time I could get away with calling him it 'cos his name was Richard," He gives a tight smile. "Anyway, sorry for snapping at yous, I dunno; I guess I just needed to get something off my chest, and you were a trigger for that," He extends a hand towards Dan. "Mates again?"

Dan nods. "Mates."

[arcticdementor]

Sitting on the couch watching TV earlier this month, my wife read to me a headline from her iPhone. “Listen to this,” she said: “There are only 15 lesbian bars left in the entire country.”

“Great,” I said, “We’ll each get our own.”

Lesbian bars have always been vastly outnumbered by bars for straight people and gay men, but in the 1980s, there were more than 200 lesbian bars in the U.S. What happened? Well, a lot of them sucked. The first lesbian bars I went to in my early 20s were dank, smoky caves where women in khaki shorts and backward caps grinded on each other to Outkast. They could have been frat bars if not for the notable absence of men.

…

But there’s something else going on right now, because it’s not just lesbian bars that are disappearing; it’s lesbian as a category itself.

After Portland’s last lesbian bar closed in 2010, as Ellena Rosenthal explored in the Willamette Week, there were attempts to start lesbian-specific nights at various venues, but most avoided the L-word to appear inclusive of trans and nonbinary people. One event, called Temporary Lesbian Bar, apologized after being accused of condoning “trans women exterminationism” for using the labrys — a double-headed ax that symbolizes female strength and has long been a part of lesbian iconography — in their logo. That event still exists (or did before Covid), but the organizers make sure to advertise that, despite the name, it’s “open, inclusive, and welcoming to all people.” (Oddly, these fights only seem to occur around women’s space, not men’s. If gay bars, bathhouses, and clubs go extinct, it will be because of Covid, not because of infighting over inclusion.)

Portland may be a parody of PC, but it’s not an outlier. When I came out in North Carolina in the early 2000s, the term “lesbian” was fading and “queer” was rapidly rising. Most of my peers saw lesbians as stodgy, old-fashioned, and uncool, whereas queers were hip, edgy, and inclusive. Yet “queer” is vague enough to mean nearly anything, so the label says less about your love life and more about your politics. (I propose we all start using the Kinsey Scale instead.)

The flight from “lesbian” has accelerated since. An academic in the Southeast, who asked to remain anonymous, told me that when she mentioned to a colleague that she’s a lesbian, the colleague “reacted like I’d confessed to being a Confederate Lost-Causer. She told me that the term is outdated and problematic, and I shouldn’t use it.” So the lesbian keeps quiet about her identity: “It’s like living in a second closet.”

Not long ago, it would have been the Christian right stigmatizing homosexual women. Today, it’s also from people who call themselves queer.

…

Nonbinary people say that the identification liberates them from the prison of gender, but for others, it doesn’t dismantle gender roles and stereotypes; it reinforces them. It legitimizes the idea that there’s an intractable gender binary in the first place. Instead of saying, “I’m a woman and I reject gender roles,” NB ideology says, in effect, “I reject gender roles and therefore I’m not a woman.”

Joycelyn MacDonald, the editor-in-chief of the lesbian site AfterEllen, has seen the NB ideology pushed by well-intended people and she worries about the unintended consequences. “When we say that femininity is equivalent to womanhood, we leave no space for women, gay or straight, to be gender non-conforming,” she told me. “Butch lesbians especially have fought for the right to claim space as women, and now women are running from that instead of boldly stepping into it. It’s another way of saying ‘I’m not like other girls,’ and it’s demeaning to other women.”

This is not a popular position in some queer communities, and AfterEllen is routinely accused of being transphobic. In 2018, Rhea Butcher, a nonbinary comic, tweeted: “You don’t represent me or my friends and your website is a sham. You’re not a lesbian/bisexual website, you’re a TERF website.” (“TERF" stands for “trans-exclusionary radical feminist” and is not, to put it mildly, a compliment.) Butcher’s tweet is typical, and it’s part of what makes having this conversation so fraught.

There’s been no clear polling on the shift from “lesbian” to “nonbinary,” and so my sense that the lesbian is endangered is purely anecdotal. But there are plenty of anecdotes. After I put out a call on Twitter asking lesbians for input, my inbox filled with emails from women who said vast portions of their friend groups have adopted new labels and pronouns. But none feel like they can openly discuss it, which is apparent by the number who asked to remain anonymous: all of them.

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Some feminists argue that women are so oppressed in society that opting out of womanhood is a way of opting out of oppression. I’m skeptical. Why didn’t women do this decades ago, when oppression was objectively greater? Besides, enbies are more likely to be Smith undergrads than, say, immigrants getting assaulted at the border.

And there’s another not-so popular explanation: that it’s a fad, a form of social contagion.

I’m aware that this will be offensive to some people. The concept of a fixed, internal gender identity has become sacrosanct, and it’s viewed as something deeply personal and meaningful, like the soul. But humans are social creatures and we are easily influenced by our peers. This isn’t a moral judgment, just a fact, and I’ve seen how it plays out in my own peer circle. First one person comes out as nonbinary, then another, then another, and then one day half the dykes you know go by “they.” Add social media to the mix, and fawning profiles of nonbinary people in the press, and you’ve got yourself a mass cultural phenomenon.

I ran this theory by a therapist who specializes in LGTBQ issues. (She asked to remain anonymous, so I’ll call her Tara.) Tara told me that while the most common complaints of her young female patients involve gender identity, it’s not an issue with older patients. The older ones struggle with their sexuality or their relationships, but aside from a few transexuals with dysphoria, gender identity doesn’t come up. And young women, in particular, are prone to social contagion. We’ve seen this in many areas: eating disorders, cutting, exercising, yawning, strange fits of laughter, and even (forgive the term) hysteria.

When I asked Tara if social contagion could be the cause of the nonbinary movement, she paused for long enough that I thought she may have hung up the phone. “Yes,” she said. “But I can’t really say that to anyone.” The professional risks are too great.