#and she's at her best when she leans into the sappy over the top vibe like w love story or ybwm

[alternativeulster]

swiftie mutuals please know that i still love you i just cant help but be a hater

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 2, Don’t Touch That Dial

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: A nondescript amount of time has passed since [Y/N] has met the Maximoff couple and the trio has since then gotten better settled in Westview, although none of them have yet to make the best impressions with their neighbors. [Y/N], Vision, and Wanda have found friends and confidants in each other when they haven’t much elsewhere but [Y/N]’s crush remains, begging the question, ‘Is there anything more to come?’ Meanwhile, the people of the cul-de-sac are planning a talent show and the atmosphere in Westview appears to be shifting. Follow along as the happy little world of Westview begins fraying at the seams while strange happenings occur and an unseen power desperately seeks to stitch it back together…

Word count: 13,766

Warnings: This one’s even longer. Fluff, sappy rom-com vibes, more possible second-hand embarrassment. It’s just as weird as the episode.

Tag List: @madamevirgo​

~~~

    “[Y/N], hon. I really think you should cool it on the coffee for the rest of the day.”

    It’s possible that Agnes was right. The tiredness that was caused by a windy, sleepless night has recently been replaced by chaotic, synthetic energy that had your eyes wide and hands shaking slightly. You were on your fourth cup now, which you’d brought with you from the diner you and Agnes had had breakfast at. The two of you were going to pick up Wanda and go over to Dottie’s for actual breakfast—well, brunch—but you both had rocky relationships with the queen of the neighborhood and needed to mentally prepare. You had been up for a better part of the last night due to bushes and tree branches rattling against your windows, not to mention all your previous encounters with Dottie have been disastrous; you needed the caffeinated courage. Agnes just wanted to have something on her stomach beforehand so the alcohol hidden away in her handbag would sit better.

    You hummed around your mouthful of coffee in response to Agnes’s mild worrying. You swallowed, then threw back the last of the no longer hot beverage and scurried over to a random trash can to toss the cup away. “There, see? All done. All nifty.” Just as an extra bit of proof, you gave her some jazz hands and shimmied as you walked back over to link your arm with hers.

    Agnes tried to hold down a smirk but broke into a laugh when the shimmying started. “You look as jittery as a squirrel.”

    “Not as fluffy as a bunny?” you asked with a wide-eyed pout, then reached over to poke a finger in the cage that your companion held; the rabbit inside, Agnes’s pet, immediately offered his head to be scratched. “Señor Scratchy, more like Mr. Cutie Patootie.”

    “Fluffy too, of course,” Agnes offered, giving your curled updo a ruffle. “In a good mood too, which I suppose isn’t a bad thing. With Dottie around, we’ll need it.”

    You almost cracked a grin but then thought about how you’d feel hearing someone say that about you and felt somewhat sad. Luckily, you found a quick reason to grin anyway as Wanda’s house came into view up ahead—

    Only for the grin to turn into a look of confusion as a buzzing suddenly started in your ear.

    You stopped cold, cocking your head as you strained to listen. The buzzing sounded almost like a lawnmower but coming from the sky—a helicopter, perhaps, but there was something off about it like it was happening inside your head—and the sound grew louder until it stopped with a sudden bang, making you jump.

    “[Y/N]?” Agnes’s voice called. “[Y/N], are you alright?”

    Drawn back to your surroundings, you felt a cold sweat on your back and noticed your hands had become clammy; the hair on your neck and arms stood straight up and your body felt suddenly achy, almost have you had come down with a cold out of the blue. You looked at Agnes with wide eyes and saw her staring at you, concerned with both arms gripping your sleeve.

    It took you several moments to recover and when you did, you asked, “Did you hear that?”

    Agnes looked at you incredulously, shaking her head just slightly. “Hear what?” 

    She hadn’t heard it? You felt like the strange sounds had happened right next to you.

    The woman at your side continued, “I didn’t hear anything at all, except for Wanda coming outside. Then you just stopped walking and stood there, I couldn’t even budge you.”

    Agnes nodded in the direction in Wanda’s direction and you looked that way. Wanda was indeed outside now, though she hadn’t seemed to notice you two coming up the sidewalk yet. Instead, she was looking down in the bushes near her fence, seemingly distressed. You followed her gaze and saw something glittering in the sunlight there.

    “Well,” Agnes said loudly, officially snapping you out of your daze, “you seem fine now, at least. I told you all that caffeine was going to make you go looney!” She picked up the rabbit cage she apparently put down while you were… doing whatever it had been that you were doing, then kept walking as if nothing had happened. 

    You watched her for a moment before following. Then you noticed Wanda lean over and pick up whatever it was she was looking at but you couldn’t see what it was as Agnes obscured most of the view. You could, however, see Wanda’s distraught expression and it made you want to run and make sure she was okay; you noted that Agnes still had no reaction, though, and decided perhaps all that caffeine was the actual cause of all these weird feelings. 

    You felt the familiar pang of a headache as you and Agnes got closer. 

    “Look, it’s the star of the show!” Agnes chirped, leaning against the fence bordering the Maximoff lawn. You saw Wanda gasp and drop the thing back into the bushes but Agnes just grinned.

    “Agnes!” Wanda replied in a way that seemed a little strained. She leaned over and covered the bush with an arm. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Then she noticed you, still a little ways behind Agnes, and the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “And [Y/N]!”

    You gave her a sheepish wave, still trying to recollect yourself. The faint headache was still there, getting a bit stronger whenever your eyes or thoughts drifted to the object Wanda was obviously trying to hide. At least you weren’t sweaty and clammy anymore, though. Not that that would matter. It’s not like you would be holding anybody’s hand on the way to Dottie’s.

    You wouldn’t mind doing so if it happened to happen though.

    Stop, you chided yourself, Bad. No holding hands with Wanda.

    Unless you hold hands with both her and her husband, your brain decided to think on its own, which is totally cool too.

    No, you chided your brain this time, no holding hands with married couples.

    Fine, your brain conceded. Then after a moment, Just kiss them instead.

    No!

    Good god, that had been too much coffee. 

    You shook your head slightly and watched and Agnes handed Señor Scratchy over to Wanda who headed back to the house with him, though you hadn’t been paying attention to what they were saying prior.

    “...he played baby Jesus in last year’s Christmas pageant!” Agnes was saying, to which Wanda looked over her shoulder and answered, “Ah!”

    Then Agnes looked over her shoulder, and yours, and said, “Oh, morning, Dennis!”

    You side-stepped to let the man pass and took the advantage to move to Agnes’s other side as she chatted the mailman up. You couldn’t help laughing a bit as she made finger guns at him and told him to stick ‘em up.

    “Ho,” Dennis responded, putting his hands up momentarily and smiling, “Don’t shoot, I’m just the messenger.”

    “Pew pew!” Agnes sounded, waggling her “guns” at him.

    You offered your own, less theatrical greeting to Dennis as he walked by, then leaned over and bumped hips with Agnes when you caught her watching him walk away.

    “Please tell me you’re not having an affair with the mailman,” you said.

    Agnes choked, then threw back her head and did what you could only describe as a cackle. “What? Heavens no!”

    “Good,” you replied, then slid a bit closer. Shimmying your shoulders at her, you teased, “Because I’m the only one you need.”

    Agnes snorted and swatted you over the head but she was smiling. “You bird dog, get out of here. I’m married!”

    “And I will duel your husband at dawn,” you cried, “I am the only one who gets to fight bar stools for the lady’s affections!”

    The two of you chortled and separated as Wanda came walking out of the house and back towards you. She looked rather lovely in the pants and cardigan combo that she wore; you also quite liked the pattern of her shirt.

    She looked between the two of you—you felt like her eyes settled on you for just a second longer but that was probably the caffeine too—and as she got closer said, “Shall we?” 

    “Oh, we shall,” Agnes replied, stepping back from leaning on the fence and offering Wanda her arm.

    You saw Wanda glance back at the bushes and she linked her arm with Agnes’s and before you could think about your headache and stop yourself, you followed her gaze. You were now standing on the other side of the fence of the bushes that Wanda had tried to hide the object she’d found in and with a quick peer, you could make out a toy helicopter within the branches.

    There was something very off about the helicopter, as there had been about the sound earlier. Looking at it was like the effects of one of your worse migraines but without the intense pain. Time appeared to slow way down and your head somehow felt like it was both floating and behind crushed at the same time. When you tried to look around it was like you were moving outside of your body, as if you had turned around to look at your own house across the street and yet hadn’t moved at all. Images of Wanda and Agnes’s faces, the Maximoff house and your own, faces and places that you didn’t quite recognize, the helicopter all floated through your line of vision, mushing together or overlaying on top of each other, and you couldn’t be sure whether you were actually looking around or if you had closed your eyes and this was all happening behind your eyelids. 

After what seemed like a century but you were sure was only a very slow second, the helicopter came into focus again, and you felt like you were gasping or squinting or both, but without actually doing either. The toy had a very bizarre color scheme as if the colors didn’t exist in this realm of existence; you couldn’t quite place the names of them no matter how hard you tried. The helicopter’s bright colors—almost too bright to you; it felt like looking at the sun but you couldn’t look away—appeared to turn the entire world around you to shades of gray, including yourself. Yet again, you felt like you moved without actually doing so as you raised your hand, a shade of gray instead of your skin tone. Looking further, your entire outfit wasn’t the combination of your two favorite colors that you thought it was but a variety of grays, as well as the sidewalk you stood on and the fence and bushes you stood next to. 

Your gaze settled on the toy helicopter again even though you were pretty sure you’d never actually looked away.

Blood? The helicopter was the color of blood and sand, with a touch of the color you suddenly hated with every fiber of your being, shimmery gray. 

Then there was a sound like a thunderclap happening directly inside your head and everything was back to normal.

Wanda has just finished linking arms with Agnes and the girls were stepping to one side so you could join their line. Looking at Wanda’s smile directed at Agnes, and Agnes’s scheming look directed at you, the world didn’t seem so out of sorts anymore. You felt both very solid and like you needed to steady yourself but you didn’t have time for the latter and instead, you stepped forward, seeming much more confident than you felt, to link arms with Agnes. 

Agnes, with her scheming look, clearly had other ideas. She suddenly stepped off the curb, jerking herself and Wanda to the side, not only blocking the way you were walking but pulling Wanda directly in front of you. Agnes herself settled easily but Wanda, who had no idea what just happened, stumbled and tripped; she tried to catch herself on Agnes’s arm she held, only to find it was no longer there and ended up falling backward.

Your arms shot out reflexively and caught her around the waist. Wanda, in response, reached behind her and braced herself by throwing one arm around your shoulders while the other caught one of your wrists and twisting in such a way that caused her to turn towards you and kick one leg up so she could steady herself on the other. The result was an almost picture-perfect dip, with you cradling Wanda’s upper body in your arms, her embracing you, and the two of you staring at each other in pure shock. 

Then there was Agnes, standing next to the curb and brushing out a crease in her dress, looking oh so pleased with herself.

A deep blush bloomed across your face as you looked down at the woman—the very married and greatly loved by her husband woman—and your outsides and insides had the same idea of wanting to curl in on themselves and… either scream in joy or die, you couldn’t be sure. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of Wanda right away; along with the longing you often felt when seeing either her or her husband, though it was multiplied by infinity in the current moment, you felt a sudden fierce protectiveness over her come almost out of nowhere. You wanted Wanda Maximoff to be as happy and as safe as could be and it felt like if you let her go any moment before she was properly standing and solid on her feet that something very bad would happen like she would tip and fall and shatter into a million pieces.

Holding her was just very nice in general too.

You felt your fingers twitch at her waist and it drew you back out of your head. You noticed Wanda hadn’t yet pulled away either or moved in general, and you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust when you focused back on the face looking up at you.

Although she couldn’t possibly as red as you were, Wanda was flushed from her neck to the tips of her ears—she had the prettiest blushing face you’d ever seen, you were sure of it—and she was looking up at you from under her lashes, the expression on her face a mix of surprise and embarrassment and something softer than you couldn’t quite place. You felt her arm, warm and strong against the back of your shoulders, and her hands still tightly gripping your shoulder and wrist. For a moment, you felt the hand on your shoulder lightly knead the fabric of your jacket, as if testing something, before her entire grip on you loosened.

“Um,” she started, her voice sounding as dry as your throat felt, “thank you. For catching me.”

“Happy to help,” you croaked, then mentally kicked yourself and cleared your throat; the slight smile that appeared on Wanda’s lips wasn’t lost on you, though.

    “Oh, lovebirds,” Agnes hollered over her shoulder as she walked ahead of you and Wanda, “the Queen of the Cul de Sac will order off with our heads if we don’t hurry!”

    I had no idea that the devil wears plaid, you thought. Then you weren’t how long you and Wanda had been standing like that, or who had seen, and you were panicking. 

    You thought that maybe the two of you might scramble away from each other but it was quite the opposite. Wanda lowered the leg she still had raised and in one fluid motion, Wanda was back standing upright; in another, you twirled her around to your side and linked arms with her, and then the two of you were hustling after Agnes, who stopped and waited with her arm out so that you could link up with her too.

    It was like something out of an old rom-com movie. Except it was a rom-com movie where the main character fancied both the love interest and her husband, something far too farfetched to end happily. 

    “Dottie can’t possibly be as bad as you say,” Wanda said. She looked from Agnes to you and you gave her a sympathetic look. 

    “Well, you’ll notice her roses bloom under penalty of death,” Agnes affirmed as the three of you made it to the outskirts of Queen Dottie’s castle and paused there. “If you don’t believe me, ask [Y/N].”

    Wanda’s eyebrows raised.

    You sighed. “The first day of meeting her I spilled wine on her dress and now I’m ninety percent sure that she thinks I want her dead. She also very much dislikes the idea of a lone stray cat living in her neighborhood.” You unlinked your arms with the ladies to gesture at yourself. “I was getting home late from work one night and she saw me, stepped outside to make sure I wasn’t going to dig through her trash bins.”

    “Oh,” Wanda said with a grimace, “goodness.”

    “I’m sure you’ll do fine, though,” you added quickly, “You’re lovely; I can’t imagine anyone not loving you.”

    Agnes rolled her eyes while you blushed and scratched your neck. You could already see her gearing up for a pre-Dottie tutoring session.

    And then she started with a look-over of Wanda’s outfit. “Wanda—”

    “Hm?”

    “—can I give you a bit of friendly advice?”     Wanda must have caught the look too because she glanced over her outfit, the outfit you quite liked. Raising a hand to her chest, she asked, “Is it about the way I’m dressed?”

    “Yes, but it’s too late for that.”

    You scowled as worry bloomed on Wanda’s face. Unfortunately, you yourself had to learn how important dress was at these social events. You’d expected it to be just a gathering of friendly neighbors but it’s much more like a secret society and you had to look just right to fit it. Now you regretted not telling her sooner; you’d failed your first and only attempt at making a good impression so were content wearing whatever you wanted for the most part but Wanda definitely deserve the poor treatment she was going to get. 

    “Dottie is the key to everything in this town,” Agnes continued, unphased. “Country club memberships.”

    Something you didn’t have.

    “Parties.”

    Something you didn’t go to.

    “School admissions.”

    Something you didn’t have to worry about any time soon but the way Agnes’s gaze drifted towards Wanda’s stomach made you wonder if the Maximoffs did. The thought made your stomach churn but you couldn’t figure out why.

    “Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Wanda interjected with a smile and roll of her eyes. She happened to look your way and you thought the smile softened with her gaze just a tad.

    You relaxed your shoulders.

    Agnes trudged on. “You get in with Dottie and it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out. Just mind your P’s and Q’s and you’re gonna do just fine.”

    “Or maybe I could just be myself, more or less.” 

    “I quite like that idea,” you offered. A wide-eyed glance from Agnes went unnoticed as you were too focused on the smile Wanda definitely gave you that time.

    “Oh, Wanda, [Y/N]” Agnes said with a laugh, “that’s good.”

    Wanda’s excitement for the event today seemed to lessen and you, apparently still high off the moment you thought you two had, gave her arm a gentle squeeze and an encouraging look. 

    She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she gave you an appreciative glance and pat on the hand. Your and her hands lingered for perhaps a second or two too long before they dropped back to your sides. 

    And then the queen and her merry homemakers sauntered their way out the front door.

    “Everybody, hurry up please!” Dottie sang over her shoulder as she quickly walked down the front steps, followed by a line of housewives carrying various covered dishes.

    Agnes twisted to look her way and waved. “Hiya, Dottie, your roses are divine!”

    Both you and Wanda offered a polite wave as Dottie thanked Agnes, although she didn’t stop to chat. Her eyes did do a scan of your trio, though, and you felt your ears burn when a distasteful look was sent your way. 

    Agnes gave you a sympathetic smile and Wanda a look that said “Good luck; you’ll need it!” before sliding her arms under one of each of Wanda’s and yours and tugging the two of you along.

    Your eyes wandered as one of the wives, Bev, talked animatedly about the setup for the talent show happening this weekend. Bored and feeling out of place, you looked over the group of women sitting a circle underneath the canopy tent by Dottie’s pool, purposely excluding Dottie and the woman talking, then the man jumping into said pool, then the man cleaning said pool. 

    You shouldn’t be here. This gathering really was a secret society of women of the neighborhood—not only women but wives in particular—to discuss homely and neighborhood business matters; you weren’t a wife and after screwing up with Dottie, you certainly weren’t involved in any of the other important business, nor did you have any interesting household gossip since you lived alone. The main you were here was because while out of place, you got along more decently with the wives than the husbands and when you’d first moved to town, Agnes thought you would be entertaining company to keep. She’d immediately hung you out to dry by telling her fellow women about you calling out their husbands’ poor attempts at comedy, which amused some of them enough to welcome you; in fact, Dottie had been one of those people, impressed by your initiative if nothing else, until you ruined your chances by ruining her dress. At the current meeting, you’d been specifically invited only because you were taking part in the talent show performance, which had also happened because Agnes heard you singing while doing garden work one day and somewhat strong-armed you in. 

    Your bored eyes eventually settled on watching Wanda, who sat a couple of chairs away on the other side of your mutual companion, and you were no longer bored. While you watched Wanda, she was watching Dottie like a hawk, awkwardly but cutely trying to mimic everything the other woman was doing. She stopped when Dottie started speaking, gripping the cup she was holding a lifeline and you chuckled moments before catty laughter erupted around you. You hadn’t heard what caused it, so you decided to tune back in.

    “The devil’s in the details, Bev,” Dottie criticized, masking disdain with the lightness of her voice. 

    You heard Agnes mutter to Wanda, “That’s not the only place he is.” You couldn’t help but snicker.

    Dottie was standing now and continued on, “As you all know, the talent show is the sole fundraiser for Westview Elementary…”

    Agnes passed a flask to Bev with a cheeky grin as she sat down next to you and after taking a sip, Bev offered it to you. You didn’t have to think twice before snagging a drink of your own and handing it back over to its home.

    “I hear you’re singing,” Bev chirped quietly to you, “For the talent show? I bet you’re a lovely singer, can’t wait to hear it.”

    You blushed slightly and thanked her but didn’t say much more to avoid Dottie’s wrath.

    The wrath that Wanda and her current companion, a woman with dark skin who looked oddly familiar but whose name you couldn’t place, weren’t able to avoid themselves, apparently. 

    “We only have a few hours until showtime,” Dottie said, “so a little less cross-chatter and a little more focus.” 

    As Dottie prattled on, you observed the two women curiously.

    “...is for the children,” Dottie finished.

    “For the children,” the other women echoed.

    “For the children,” Wanda added after everyone else had already spoken, earning several displeased looks.

    You didn’t bother to say anything, opting to take Agnes’s flask and have another sip.

    “So, I want you all to give yourselves a big hand—”

    Wanda, looking petrified, stopped in the middle of taking a bite of a cookie and started clapping. You hid your laugh behind a hand; she still had an entire cookie hanging from her mouth.

    “—at the appropriate time, of course,” Dottie chastised, then continued on yet again.

    Oh, darling Wanda, you thought with a grin, you poor, sweet thing, you. You rested your chin in your hand and watched as she made herself proper until Bev nudged you to take your elbow off the table. You huffed slightly but did so anyway, then tried to catch Wanda’s eye for a moment of solidarity, only to see her talking to the dark-skinned woman again. 

    Your gaze shifted from Wanda to the other woman and your brows furrowed. You swore you knew her from somewhere though try as you might, you just couldn’t place that face, those eyes, that awkward but friendly smile. Perhaps another newcomer to the area that you’ve seen t on the streets or at a shop? You couldn’t imagine where she moved into, though, as you were sure the last two open houses had been the ones occupied by you and Wanda and Vision.

    You felt a sharp pang in your temple and grunted softly. You weren’t about to have an episode here of all places, so you quickly looked away and put the thoughts aside.

    Just as Wanda and the stranger shook hands over their table. Uh-oh.

    “I’m Wanda.”

    “I’m, uh, Geraldine!”

    “And I’m irritated!”

    After getting scolded by Dottie a second time, Wanda locked her jaw and resigned to sitting in her seat with her hands tucked in her lap. She finally looked over at you with helplessness in her eyes.

    You responded with a mouthed “I told you so” and a wink, then silently told her that you’d talk to her after the meeting.

    A comforting face seemed to be what she needed because she relaxed again, though not completely. She settled in for the rest of the meeting and, finishing off Agnes’s flask, so did you.

    After the meeting was over, Dottie asked Wanda to sit back and help her clean up, which you knew meant Dottie doing nothing but being condescending while Wanda did all the work. While Agnes tried to get you to walk her home and then warned you against your plan, you were adamant about staying back and making sure Wanda got through the rest of her first Dottie encounter in one piece. At this point, you knew fitting in and having people’s positive opinions was important to Wanda; you oftentimes felt like that yourself. Unfortunately, Dottie wasn’t the type of person to give out positive opinions easily—you had to earn it, which was hard enough without accidentally interrupting the main meeting multiple times—and that protective feeling for Wanda that had come out of nowhere earlier today still hadn’t faded. You knew Wanda Maximoff of all people didn’t necessarily need you but you wanted to stick around, just in case she did.

    Maybe you were hoping that she would.

    That and you couldn’t help but take one last shot at getting on Dottie’s good side.

    “...and that is why you never do a seating chart on an empty stomach,” Dottie was finishing from her perch on the edge of a pool chair. 

    Wanda walked over to where you stood organizing a cart of dirty dishes so they didn’t all come tumbling down when whichever pretty busboy that Dottie paid finally came to take it away. She was huffing, carrying over yet another pile of dirty plates on a large tray; you skirted around the dish cart and quickly came to her aid, taking as much as your hands could carry from off the top. She offered a grateful smile that you returned before you both unloaded onto the cart.

    Who owned or even used this ungodly amount of dishes?

    A person who paid various pretty people to just be around, you concluded a moment later.

    As you continued to organize, Wanda turned back around to grab a pair of three-tiered dessert stands, both of which had a decent amount of desserts left on them. “Golly, you’re a wiz at all this committee stuff, Dottie. Thank you for choosing me to help you clean up today, I feel so lucky.”

    “You are,” Dottie agreed.

    Wanda turned back to you again and made a face, then stuck out her tongue. You choked down a laugh after catching Dottie’s steely gaze over Wanda’s shoulder, settling for a smile as you took the trays.

    Dottie was just as displeased as you’d expected she’d be that you insisted to stay behind and help.

    “I really should try to make amends before this is over, shouldn’t I?” Wanda muttered. She caught a few plates slipping from the top of a pile and rearranged them.

    “If you manage to do so, you really would be a Westview miracle,” you replied, taking a cup Wanda managed to catch before it tipped off the cart. “But first, how about I make you look ten times better, hm?”

    Wanda gave you a confused look but you just patted her hand before switching places with Wanda and going to grab another tray of dishes.

    You put on your friendliest smile as you began stacking as many cups as you could balance in one arm. “Say, Dottie—”

    “Be careful,” Dottie chimed back, “or at least let me get out of your way first. Wouldn’t want a repeat of our first meeting, hm?” She ended her sentence with a venom-laced laugh, then gave you a tight smile.

    You were pretty sure your eye twitched but you carried on, chuckling with her, “No, I suppose not. I really do apologize about that but you really shouldn’t hold such grudges. Worrying so much causes early-set wrinkles, you know.”

    Dottie’s smile tightened further. You heard Wanda gasp and choke from behind you.

    “Anyway, though, I really would like to make it up to you some time. My boss’s wife gave me two tickets to a food tasting event in town next weekend. I thought it might be something nice to do, plus it might give you some ideas for catering during the next event—”

    “My husband and I would love to go out next weekend, thank you so much. Feel free to drop the tickets in the mailbox the next time you come around.” Dottie paused, then added. “Mailbox, on the opposite side of the porch than the trash bins.”

    Your eye definitely twitched, maybe even both of them. You feigned an appreciative look as you finished stacking your dishes, then scowled as soon as you turned around and walked back to Wanda.

    “Now,” you grumbled, “I beg the sweet release of death to come in a more timely manner. Oh, and whatever you do can’t possibly be worse than me, although I’m sure that was the case either way.”

    “You poor thing.” Was all Wanda could manage, giving your arm a squeeze. “Guess it’s my turn.”

    “Good luck, darling,” you said, then almost immediately regretted it. You don’t know why you decided to fake a British accent, nor why you felt the need to call her darling, but you couldn’t take back either of them now.

    Wanda blinked, then laughed— before it was cut off by Dottie telling you both to get back to work.

    “It’s more dahrling, less dahling,” Wanda teased. “British people do still use R’s.”

    “Fascinating.”

    Wanda grinned, gave you a final pat on the arm, then turned around to take her shot with Dottie. “I can’t help but wonder if you and I haven’t gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie, and I would like to correct that if I can.”

    A much better approach than you, you noted with an impressed nod. You walked a little ways off to grab another cart to even out the load of dishes; the current one seemed to sag under the weight.

    “And how would you do that?” Dottie asked and you heard the rustle of fabrics rubbing together as she stood. “I’ve heard things about you. You and your husband.”

    You stopped from your place behind the canopy’s pulled-back curtain. What on earth could she be talking about?

    Wanda has the same thought. “Well, I don’t know what… you’ve been told… but I assure you, I don’t mean anyone… any harm.”

    Your brows knitted together and you shuffled around the canopy’s aluminum frame to hear a little better. You couldn’t imagine Wanda hurting anybody, not on purpose anyway.

    A pang in your temple. A surge of that fierce protectiveness.

    You poked your head out just slightly from behind the canopy. All you could see was Wanda’s back and Dottie’s determined expression from beyond Wanda’s shoulder, and the fact that they were standing very close together.

    “I don’t believe you,” Dottie stated simply. 

    As if on cue, the radio on the table started acting up, the music cutting to static combined with a jumble of noises. Like many things today, though, it sounded strange, as if it was coming from all around you, or directly from inside your skull. It stopped almost immediately as it started and music, regular-sounding music, returned. Normal, you thought, until you focused harder, and noticed a voice creeping from the background. It continued to creep closer, get louder like a person walking towards you would, until it was as loud as the static had been and the music was no longer audible. Your head throbbed as the voice sounded like it was coming out of your brain instead of into your ears but you couldn’t anything other than tighten your grip on the canopy.

    The voice said, “Wanda. Wanda. Who’s doing this to you, Wanda? Wanda. Wanda. Wan—”

    The radio shorted out, there was the sound of the glass Dottie was shattered, and there was another thunderclap in your head as the world around briefly flared into color. Color, not shades of gray, but then the gray was back as quickly as it had left. You didn’t know whether Dottie or the bizarre radio’s frequencies had crushed the glass or whether it had just been dropped, but you were walking over with a cloth in hand before you’d even gotten your senses back in order. 

    “Dottie,” Wanda gasped, her eyes flitting about.

    Dottie caught a glimpse of the overly saturated blood spreading out from the gash in her palm—and seemed only mildly annoyed.

    Wanda kept making sounds like she was trying to speak but didn’t quite know how to. She spun around to grab something to press to the wound and almost ran into you. She stared at you, cloth in hand, with wide eyes filled with equal amounts of fear and surprise, like your existence had been completely forgotten until that moment. Then Wanda grabbed the cloth, and your hand in the process; she gave you a silent thank you, your hand a squeeze so tight you felt her fingernails dig into the skin, then turned back to Dottie and pressed the cloth to her bloody palm.

    Dottie grabbed her hand and said, somehow completely aware of the situation and also seeming totally spaced out, “Pop quiz, Wanda: How does a housewife get a bloodstain out of white linen? By doing it herself.”

    Then she smiled and walked into her house. 

    You and Wanda stood in silence and it was then that you realized you felt the same way you figured Dottie did, similar to how you felt earlier today when you saw the toy helicopter in Wanda’s yard. You felt light and spacey and almost dizzy but without the world spinning, almost like you were a mind outside of your body, or a consciousness inside of a body that wasn’t yours. Time didn’t slow but rather sped up; you didn’t know when you’d started walking to Wanda’s aid and you didn’t remember the feeling of ever grabbing the cloth that you’d given her, and the whole event seemed to have fixed itself as soon as it started with the end result being your mind painfully aware of something being wrong but your body refusing to act like anything was. 

All you’d really felt was your head throbbing, not with pain but with pressure, and the desperate urge to help Wanda. Then you did and everything was over.

Wanda.

You repeated her name in the form of a question; it felt different this time. She didn’t respond or really even move aside from reaching back towards you. You rushed over and grasped her arm and she let out a choked gasp.

“[Y/N].” She said it as if trying it out for the first time. It took her a bit longer to pry her eyes away from the spot where Dottie had been, then she held a hand to her mouth and looked at you. “What just happened?”

“I’m… I’m not sure myself.”

It took a bit longer again for her to speak, her eyes darting from you to the door Dottie had disappeared to and back. “Would you walk me home? Please?”

“Of course, Wanda.”

The walk home was quiet. The two of you had your arms linked as you did on the walk over but now Wanda gripped your arm with her other hand too. Like at Dottie’s pool, it was almost eerily silent except for your and Wanda’s footsteps. Tou could have chalked it up to being because everyone was already in town setting up for the talent show, something about it had you glancing around ever so often, as though you could catch someone peering at you through the bushes or through the crack of a partially opened manhole at any moment.

When you got to Wanda’s door, you had a quick chat about the talent show—as if none of the day’s earlier events had happened; she was very excited to hear you sing—and then she headed up the steps to her door. You gave her a wave and turned to walk home.

“[Y/N]?”

You stopped and turned back around, eyebrows raised slightly.

Wanda walked the three steps back down from her door and gave you a hug. “Thank you for being around today.”

“‘Scuse me, coming through!”

Of course, you’d be late. Of course, you’d get home, start practicing for your performance, pass out on your couch, and wake up five minutes before the show started with a suit and dress combo to still pull on and a few instruments to properly secure in their trunk.

You weaved your way between folks who were either going to the talent show or trying to ignore it and stumbled your way upstairs to the backstage.

Wanda was standing there in a magician’s assistant costume that almost had you on your knees and begging for mercy before you remembered you had a show to do that you were also very late for. She and the Black woman she’d been talking to at Dottie’s meeting—Geraldine, Wanda had informed you later—spun on you with an expectant gasp, only to slump in disappointment when they saw it was you.

“Golly, thanks for the warm welcome,” you muttered, setting your trunk down and popping it open. “Suppose I deserve it for missing most of the show, though.”

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” Wanda said as she paced over, “You look fab and I’m sure your performance will be a blast—”

“If I’m still performing?” you asked, directing the question at Geraldine with a hopeful smile.

“If you’re ready before the husband gets here, you can take their place,” Geraldine offered, “If not, you can finish the show off.”

Finishing the talent show, not nerve-wracking at all.

“Vision’s not here?” You gave Wanda a questioning look as you walked past her to look

at yourself in a full-body mirror on the other side of the stage to make sure your look was still in order. The top half of your outfit was a full, simple, black and white tuxedo with a matching black fedora that slightly offset on top of your hair; one of Dottie’s white roses, which you acquired after stuffing her and her husband’s food taster tickets in her mailbox on your way into town, poked out from the hat’s band. The bottom half was a simple skirt—actually, the skirt and undershirt of your outfit was a dress that your mother had pieced together and sent you for your “big night”—that was fashionable for the time but in a sleek shade of black that matched the rest of your tuxedo and with a white band around the hem, paired with a sheer stocking of a plaid pattern and low-heeled shoes that you would return to the shop tomorrow. Finally, for a little touch of color and a little for pop, a golden bejeweled broach was pinned to a crimson pocket square poked out of the chest pocket of your tuxedo jacket, golden geometric earrings hung from your lobes, and a couple of bejeweled bracelets and rings in the same colors adorned your hands. You wore bright, unglossed lipstick and nail polish to match, despite that not being in fashion. Luckily everything still seemed in order.

Wanda gave an exaggerated shrug as you walked back over to your instrument trunk. “Nowhere to be found, like he vanished!”

As if summoned, Vision came wobbling around the corner and up the steps. Well, he almost did; it took him two tries to get up the steps without falling back down.

“Oh, is that him?” Geraldine asked, her face twisting into a look of concern. “Looks like he’s gots a little hitch in his giddyup. Whoa!”

You twisted around, ukulele in hand to check if it was tuned, just as Vision was making it upstairs the second time. You smiled, quirking an eyebrow, only to stumble as the British man threw his arm around you to steady himself. 

“Wanda, my little cabbage, you look smashing!” Vision exclaimed, his words slurring together just slightly. He began swaying and decided to lean almost his full weight on you; when you grunted and moved the instrument you were holding out of the danger zone of getting smacked is when Vision appeared to notice that he was balancing against a person instead of the railing by the stairs. He leaned his face closer and squinted at you—now that you weren’t concerned about going onstage immediately, it was significantly easier to get flustered by Vision and his, yes, absolutely smashing wife—then grinned and said, “Why it’s [Y/N] too, and looking equally as ravishing!”

You tried to keep yourself in check. “Heya cool head, not your wife. That being said, I’d say you look smashing yourself but you just seem positively smashed.”

“Oh, I know,” Vision replied, “I already told her that she looked nice. You heard me right, honey?” He went from so close to your face that his bangs were getting in your eye to only a hand gripping your shoulder as he flung his limbs wide, which was apparently a necessary move to look at his wife’s face.

You gave Wanda a look that was equal parts worried and amused. The look she returned was just worried. 

Wanda walked over to you and helped maneuver you out of Vision’s grip so you could continue tuning your ukulele—actually, it was Vision’s that you were borrowing—then tugged her husband so you were at least a couple feet out of reach. “Vis, where have you been?”

“Oh, uh… me and the boys were playing a rather thrilling game of horses and shoes,” Vision responded, talking in a way that sounded like he was trying to talk under his breath while still speaking at full volume. “No, wait, that’s not it. Shoe horses! Oh, hrn… Ah! Horse’s shoes!” He put two thumbs up and smiled lopsidedly, clearly pleased with himself.

“Horseshoes,” you offered from your corner by the railing. You were done playing with the ukulele and checked to make sure your tambourine was safe and sound.

“Oh, yes!” Vision was his thumbs up towards you, both arms stretched out as far as they could reach. “Brilliant, you’re absolutely brilliant, [Y/N]! Aren’t they brilliant, Wanda, very brilliant and very nice-looking?” 

“Well, uh, yes, I suppose,” Wanda agreed awkwardly, glancing over at you before pulling Vision back to face her; you swore you even saw her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Listen, something strange happened with Dottie.”

You were too busy biting back a smile to hear the rest of the conversation. You rearranged your hat and jacket back into place from Vision knocking them askew, then brushed any wrinkles out of your skirt. You glanced over at Geraldine, who was peeking through the curtains at the main part of the stage.

“I was just playing with his shoes!” Vision suddenly hollered, as the members of the previous act, including someone dressed in a horse costume, made their way around the stage.

“What is going on?” Wanda cried.

Geraldine responded in kind, “You are!”

You considered taking their places so Wanda had time to knock some sense into her husband but you knew if you went out now, you would sound like fingers on a chalkboard, and going out on stage at all was bad enough. Instead, you walked over and gave the couple an encouraging pat on the shoulder and a “Good luck!” before making your way down the steps and around to the viewing area to find a place to sit.

Dottie was onstage. Her hand seemed fine now. “I want to thank you all for coming out to support Westview Elementary, for the children.”

“For the children,” the crowd echoed, mostly deadpan.

“I have yet to see a child,” you stated at the same time, sitting back in an extra chair off to the side of the stage as to not annoy audience members with the vocal warmups you were about to start doing.

Dottie continued, “And for our final act—”

Geraldine scurried out from behind the curtains at muttered something in Dottie’s ear before rushing away again.

Dottie quickly picked you on the sidelines and gave a strained smile, although the daggers she was glaring made you sink down in your chair. “Sorry, everyone. For our next to final act, I give you Wanda and Vision.”

Wanda sauntered out from behind the curtains and down to the front of the stage, then planted herself slightly off to the side and threw one hand up as an entrance cue to Vision. At first, he didn’t appear and Wanda’s bravado faltered slightly as she looked out into the crowd.

You caught her eye and gave her an assuring nod.

Then Vision flying out of curtains and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Hello Westview! Good afternoon!” Still introducing, he stumbled down to the main part of the stage, bumping into a railing at some point and apologizing to it. He sort of settled and continued, “I am Glamour and this is my delightful assistant Illusion.”

“I am Glamour,” Wanda chimed in, talking and moving with even more animation than she normally would, “and he’s Illusion.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Vision said simply, then rambled on, “Tonight, we will lie to you, and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled due to their limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe.” He ended this definitely off-script statement with a matter-of-fact shrug and nod. 

You regretted not going on first.

“Flourish!” Vision suddenly hollered, waving his hands in such a way. 

This was going to be chaos, you decided, and it was.

Wanda and Vision’s act was a mess but at least it was an entertaining one. While the act did go on, Vision spent most of his time prattling on and yelling “Flourish!” while Wanda tried to keep things in check. Some of the tricks were good and even impressive at times before the “inner workings of the universe” became clear moments later. Vision’s first trick was to float up into the air, only for a pulley system to be revealed as Wanda moved a sign offstage. For the second, he picked up a piano with one hand only for the jarringly realistic instrument only for Wanda to slip up while carrying the one-dimensional prop away and show its bare wooden back with a large handle to grasp. 

At one point, though, Vision trotted offstage and tried to perform a card trick for a friend while Wanda was helpless to stop him, but the end result was him going through an entire deck of cards trying to find the correct one. Then he went to pull Señor Scratchy out of his hat, only to find his hat laying on stage and Agnes’s rabbit hopping across it until Wanda managed to catch him and take him backstage. 

Regardless of which tricks hit and which went wonky, the crowd, you included, seemed to love the Maximoff duo and hung onto the entire act. There were gasps and awes and you were personally still dumbfounded by the one where Vision pulled a hat through his body; the backstage curtains happened to fall at the perfect time to reveal a multitude of mirrors, only one of which that you knew had been back there previously, but a dull throb in the back of your head warned you to just let the mystery slide. After all, it wasn’t as fun if you spent the entire show pondering.

For Vision and Wanda’s final trick, Wanda brought out a large box called the Cabinet of Mysteries. At first, Vision stated that he was going to make his wife disappear but then he started locking up the Cabinet without her inside.

You caught Wanda’s act begin to slip again as her smile faltered and she began scanning the crowd. No else did, though, because Agnes suddenly hollered an offer of audience participation in the form of her husband, which caused everyone including Vision to laugh.

Then Vision was back to his trick, slapping the Cabinet’s side with a plastic wand and yelling, “Abrakadabra!” 

“Uh, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured without breaking her pose.

Vision responded loudly, “Yeah?”

“Hi.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward pause and you chewed your lip as you glanced around. People were waiting for the finale and Vision had just messed it up big time.

A chant of “What’s in the box?” started up.

Then you happened to look back to the stage just in time to make eye contact with Wanda as she looked around.

She grinned.

And then you were somewhere else, surrounded by darkness and wood panels.

You were only there for a moment but your eyes still needed a moment to adjust as Wanda and Vision open the Cabinet of Mysteries’ doors and you were greeted with a gasping and then applauding crowd. You blinked and, disoriented but not wanting to ruin Wanda and Vision’s successful grand finale, you put on your best smile and hopped out of the wooden box to strike a flourished pose.

“Ah-ha,” Vision voiced, seeming just as surprised as the crowd before grinning walking stepping up to your side.

Wanda stepped up to your other side and when you raised an eyebrow at her, she gave you a cheeky grin and mouthed, “Magic.” The wink she gave you afterward could have sent you to the moon but you still had your own performance to do. She made sure you were reminded of that by holding up a microphone.

Wanda and Vision each slipped an arm around your waist and you did the same to them despite their touch feeling very warm underneath the jacket of your uniform, and with one last “Flourish!” from Vision, the three of you bowed.     The three of you bowed two more times before standing fully again. Wanda and Vision began to move away from you but you slid your arms to grab their own, keeping them there.

Wanda leaned in slightly, talking through her smile. “What are you doing?”

“Grab the tambourine in my trunk and go sit by Agnes. Ask her to inform you and wait for the cue.” When Wanda looked at you with a raised brow, you mimicked her cheeky grin and wink, mouthing, “Music.”

Vision leaned in now, although way too close. “What are we doing?”

“Tambourine, apparently,” Wanda responded, stepping away from you. You figured they were going to go and do as you asked but instead, Wanda continued, “Vis, take the cabinet and grab the tambourine; I have an introduction to do.”

Vision stood around for a moment before doing what Wanda told him to and Wanda slipped her arm around your waist once more and brought you a few steps farther to the front of the stage.

Now sitting at the edge of it was Vision’s ukulele and the mic stand, probably courtesy of Geraldine.

With you close at her side and you unsure where to put your hands, Wanda attached the microphone she held to the stand and turned it on. “As Dottie has said several times tonight, thank you once more for coming to support Westview Elementary, for the children.”

“For the children,” the audience echoed, still mostly deadpan.

“I still haven’t seen a single one,” you muttered. This earned you a pinch to the hip from the hand around your waist and you suddenly felt like your body was the same temperature as the surface of the sun.

“Now,” Wanda continued without missing a beat, “allow me to introduce helper of Illusion and Glamour’s grand finale and the final final act of tonight’s talent show, [Y/N]!”

The audience clapped and Wanda did with it as she detached from your side and slipped backstage after giving you an electric smile. Suddenly, you were much more aware of being on a stage in front of your entire town, save for the two people you actually wanted to see in it.

“Um, yes, hello,” you said into the mic, standing a little too close. You didn’t know it was possible to feel the amount of heat burning behind your cheeks and ears, and you wished to could shed your jacket but figured that would ruin the ensemble. You shook your head to clear it as you bent down to pick up your ukulele—

—and when you stood back up, you spotted Wanda and Vision—who seemed to have sobered up somehow—sitting at Agnes’s table with a tambourine on the table between them.

You bit back a smile as your gaze flitted between them; they each gave you a smile in turn before you continued, “Um, so, as you heard, I am the final act. My name is [Y/N] and I will be performing a song, “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli, acoustic on ukulele.”

You strummed the ukulele once, just to make sure it was still in tune, then you began to play. You leaned back from the mic to clear your throat and after a couple of bars, you came in:

“You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

At long last, love has arrived

And I thank God I'm alive

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

Pardon the way that I stare

There's nothin' else to compare

The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know that it's real

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you”

    You were a bit pitchy in the beginning but it didn’t take you too long to find where you needed to be, then it was smooth sailing from there; you even put a bit of a beat into it with a tap of your foot, which with a hard heel on a wooden floor in front of a silent crowd wasn’t too difficult to hear. At first, you kept your gaze pointed directly ahead and slightly above the crowd but as you began to relax and get into it, you couldn’t help but catch glances of a tapping foot here or a finger tapping on a glass cup there. Finally, your eyes drifted to where they wanted to be and you couldn’t look away from the pair seated next to Agnes even if you’d wanted to.

Vision was bopping along as he would when he was teaching you the chords and notes you were looking for, both feet and all ten fingers tapping, though his smile was particularly bright. Wanda was looking at you some type of sweet way, with that soft expression she’d had when you’d caught her in a dip earlier just today. 

“I love you, baby

And if it's quite alright

I need you, baby

To warm the lonely night

I love you, baby

Trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby

Don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby

Now that I've found you, stay

And let me love you, baby

Let me love you”

        You wanted the first part of the song to be softer but as you hit the second part of the chorus you smoothly added in a little action. You put a little flourish in your strumming—and almost missed a word because the idea of calling it a flourish made you almost laugh—added a little more power to your voice, and cued Agnes in, who began clapping along to the proper beat. It didn’t take too long for your audience, especially those who’d you caught tapping along earlier, to join in until the entire crowd was doing it, and happened you catch Vision’s eye while he clapping along a little more animated than everyone else. He grinned, a little bashful by the look of it. 

    Once she’d gotten everyone in, Agnes stopped clapping herself and instead pulled a tambourine of her own out of her handbag. You watched her nudge Wanda, who stopped her clapping and picked up the other tambourine, then followed Agnes’s lead until she got a hang of it. You’d think two tambourines would be a little hard to hear over a sea of clapping but it was Agnes and Wanda and as usual, they figured out a way. 

    You knew you’d chosen a popular song and you knew that some people would know it in full but despite Agnes trying to convince you that she’d have everyone joining in, you definitely didn’t expect the entire crowd to be able to stay in sync and follow the ebbs and flows of the entire song. It really was a bit of a magical moment and you found with that thought, you found your eyes settling on Wanda, who was jamming away on her tambourine and dancing in her seat, without missing a beat.

    She must have noticed because she raised her head and looked back at you.

    The song ended not long after and you couldn’t help clapping for the crowd as they did for you. You took your second set of bows on stage that day, hollered a “Thank you” to the crowd, and took off to the section of backstage that was still hidden by curtains with a wave as Dottie took your place to do the talent show’s conclusion. With layers of dark fabric now between you and the rest of the talent show, you could only hear muffled voices, which was perfectly fine with you as you were too busy tossing your tux jacket and hat aside and shaking out the tautness in your limbs caused by the nerves of performing on your own in front of a decently sized crowd. Although, technically, you and the crowd were performing by the end of it.

    You tried to tune in to Dottie’s voice as you bounced over to look yourself over in one of the mirrors left over from Vision and Wanda’s performance. Your outfit was intact, albeit a little bit ruffled from the dancing around you just finished doing, with your hair looking a bit flat from being stuck under a hat. Your face was flushed with a warmth that you felt from your toes to your hairline but what little makeup you wore looked just as it did earlier minus your lipstick having faded somewhat. The best and worst part of your current state, you thought, came from that part; the smile you were wearing was radiant but it was lasting so long that your cheeks were starting to hurt, and even if you purposely tried to frown it away, it popped back up a few seconds later.

    Especially when you thought about how much Wanda and Vision were enjoying themselves, because of you.

    “Um, excuse me.”

    Your gaze turned its attention to look at the reflection of Geraldine, who was standing behind you, in the mirror. “Oh, hey.”

    She smiled, pleased that you didn’t seem disrupted. “Your singing was really twitchin’, you had the whole crowd into it!”

    “I think that was more Agnes’s glaring than anything, but thanks.” You sent a less starstruck smile at her in the mirror, then picked up your hat to fan yourself as you turned around to face her.

    “Agnes is way out herself,” Geraldine agreed, though you saw her smile falter and caught her fingers tapping nervously on the clipboard she held. “She could probably out-power Dottie if she really wanted to.”

    “She doesn’t,” you affirmed, “she likes to use Dottie as a reason to sneak drinks into social gatherings too much.”

    Geraldine smiled again but she wouldn’t fully look at you and when she did, her eyes looked like they were searching for something.

    “You okay?” When Geraldine looked at you, surprised, you nodded to her hands that couldn’t seem to keep still. “Seem a little unglued and you keep looking at me funny.”

    “Oh, uh, well,” Geraldine stammered a bit, then stopped. She took a deep breath, then tried again, “I know we saw each other at Dottie’s earlier and before you went onstage but… Do you know me?”

    Your eyebrows rose high up on your forehead. 

    “It’s just,” she continued, sounding like she was forcing herself to talk slower, “you look familiar to me and I’m wondering if you think the same thing.”

    “I… I suppose I did when I first saw you,” you said, setting your hat aside. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, you couldn’t help glancing around; specifically, you looked towards the curtains separating you and Geraldine from the outside world and wished that wasn’t the case. “I figured we’d met in passing, tooling or something.”

    When you looked back at Geraldine, it was as if your personalities had changed. You were the meek one, shifting around unsettled, while she stood watching you with a thoughtfulness that was far from the nervousness you saw in her earlier. “I don’t know where I’m from or why I’m here. Do you?”

    You couldn’t be sure whether she was asking you about yourself or her but your head was suddenly too foggy to care. Foggy and throbbing with a pain that made darkness tinge the corners of your vision. You went to step to the side and steady yourself on a nearby chair but found yourself reeling backwards. You smashed into the mirror behind you, which smashed into the wall behind it and shattered; you managed to stumble away from it before you got too badly hurt but you still felt shocks of pain up your right arm and a particularly bad one in your hand as you caught glass.

Before you could run into something else or completely lose balance and fall to the ground, you slowly maneuvered to the floor and braced yourself on one knee and your unharmed hand and you were vaguely aware that Geraldine had disappeared. You squinted through blurriness at your other arm and watched as spots of blood bloomed across the white fabric of your sleeve, weeped from the gash across your palm.

No, wait.

Not only blood but color spread out your bleeding wounds. Flesh tone bled from your palm and color wetted the jewels on your bracelets and rings, color seeped from a tattered tear in your shirt and faded into the wooden floor in your line of vision, as if everything was on one piece of paper and watercolor paint was bleeding across the lines of a sketch.

“[Y/N?]” Vision’s voice called, “Are you back here?”

You tried to hide your hurt arm behind your back and jerked your head in the direction of voices getting closer. You immediately regretted the sudden movement and tried to blink away pain—

When you opened your eyes, you were standing, completely fine, in front of the mirror, completely unbroken, and fanning yourself with your hat with your other arm, completely unharmed, at your side. When your eyes flitted around, looking for Geraldine in the mirror’s reflection, she was nowhere backstage.

Instead, your eyes settled on Vision and Wanda walking through the curtains, smiling and animatedly chatting and holding a small trophy between them.

Once they were through the fabric they looked around, Vision’s bright eyes settling on you just a moment before Wanda’s did.

You could have melted. Whatever concern or worries you had just a moment earlier certainly did. 

“[Y/N],” Wanda beamed, “look at what we won!” She pointed and Vision raised the trophy for you to properly see; you managed to read “Inaugural Comedy Performance of the Year” etched into its base before the pair walked over.

You turned to meet them, placing your hat back on your head and snagging your tuxedo jacket to slip back into. “A trophy, congrats!”

“We tried to get you to come up on stage with us,” Vision said, “but we couldn’t find you!”

He certainly seemed to have sobered up since you last stood face to face with him.

You apologized, “Sorry, I had to come backstage. I was overheated and far too overwhelmed by the crowd, I don’t think I could have it up there again either way!”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Her expression shifted from proud to worried in a moment and she went to press a hand to your forehead before she seemed to decide against it. “Are you feeling any better?”

You felt the need to take a quick glance around backstage, though you couldn’t explain why. Then you nodded. “I am, much. Actually, since I wasn’t able to join you on stage and congratulate you there, how about we all get changed into clothes a little less eye-catching and we have dinner at my place, hm? I’ll cook and everything.”

“They can cook?” Vision teased to Wanda without lowering his voice at all.

“They can,” you responded, giving his side a quick jab, then smiled and slid around them. Stopping at the edge of the stage, you offered out your arms to them both. “At least a little bit. Shall we?” 

Wanda faked a thinking pose and when Vision caught on he did the same.

“We-ell,” Wanda sang, tilting her head from side to side, “Oh, alright, we shall.” She walked over, tugging Vision along with her, and they each linked arms with you.

    The three of you headed offstage. 

    “I disagree about changing, though,” Vision claimed suddenly; both you and Wanda gave him a look. “I think we all look—”

    “Smashing?” offered Wanda.

    “Ravishing?” you suggested.

    “—absolutely neato,” Vision finished, nodding. “And I think we should show off to the town!”

    You shook your head but you were smiling. “I already showed off to the town enough today.”

    “And I’m still showing off too much,” Wanda agreed. She kicked one stocking-covered leg out for good measure.

    “Oh, fine.” Vision scoffed. 

    He certainly did not admit defeat, though, and spent the rest of the walk home trying to convince the two of you.

    Wanda and Vision, without his human disguise, danced into their home after a lovely dinner at [Y/N]’s—they could cook a bit!—and as they walked through the door, Wanda spun herself into Vision’s arm.

    Vision slightly dipped her and said in a voice that was an octave or two lower, “You were tremendous Glamour.”

    “As were you, Illusion,” Wanda responded with a pearly smile. She stood up straight and walked over to put their new trophy on the coffee table as Vision shut the front door. “Oh, I don’t know what I was so worried about. It wasn’t so hard to fit in after all!”

    Wanda sat and got comfortable on the couch and Vision soon followed. “And all we had to do was be ourselves.”

    “Well, with a few modifications,” Wanda said as she curled in closer under her husband’s arm.

    “And it was all for the children,” Vision said. Halfway through the phrase, Wanda joined in, then they chuckled and gently bumped their foreheads together.

    Then Wanda leaned back into the couch and Vision’s side, quiet. She glanced around the room, absentmindedly playing with Vision’s fingers.

    “Wanda, darling, is something wrong?”

    Vision’s voice brought her attention back to him. She smiled, leaned in, and gave him a peck on the lips, then looked at their joined hands. Her smile faltered; she felt like something was missing.

    “[Y/N] made this funny point at the talent show, about the ‘for the children’ thing; ‘I haven’t seen one yet’ or something like it,” she said out of the blue. “They were an angel with me today.”

    “Oh?” Vision responded softly. He seemed to cue into her befuddled emotions and leaned back, looking at her intently. 

    “At Dottie’s,” she clarified, then added, “They also walked me home because I was a little shaken up. Very sweet.”

    “That’s right,” Vision said, “You said something strange happened at Dottie’s today?”

    “More like a few weird things,” Wanda confirmed, then recounted the details. Most of them anyway; she kept out the part about the radio talking to her for the sake of her and Vision’s sanity. It sounded legitimately insane and was probably the result of her fear at the time making her imagine things.

    Then again, Dottie had heard it as well… She couldn’t confirm that [Y/N] had.

    “My, that is indeed bizarre,” Vision said. His hairless brow furrowed. “Is Dottie alright?”

    “Well, she must be,” Wanda replied, “She was perfectly fine at the show today and didn’t say a word about it, so…”

    Vision gave a thoughtful nod, then shrugged. “Must be.”

    They both faded into cozy, albeit wondering, silence. Wanda began playing with Vision’s fingers again and she happened to look towards the front door.

    “Hey Vis?”

    “Hm?”

    “Do you think [Y/N]’s attractive?”

    Vision took in an unneeded breath so fast that he almost choked on his tongue. He spluttered, “Pardon?”

    “You know,” Wanda continued, turning back in his direction but not looking at him, “A fox. A hunk. Ravishing.”

    If Vision could blush he probably would have. He removed his arm from around Wanda’s shoulders and scratched the side of his face. “I was feeling weird when I said that. You know, the gum. I didn’t mean—well that’s not to say they’re not attractive either! Because they are. I mean, they look fine, I certainly wouldn’t say unattractive by any means, and I quite like their company. But love, I didn’t mean anything serious by it, I didn’t mean to offend—”

    “I think they’re attractive,” Wanda stated simply, bringing Vision’s rambling to a quick halt. Her gaze drifted back towards the front door and she briefly used her magic to view the home across the street. Some of the lights were still on; she imagined their dinner companion was in the kitchen, washing up the dishes from their meal.

    She wouldn’t mind cooking with [Y/N] or washing dishes with them after meals. Or having both Vision and them coming home in the evenings. 

    “Oh. Um, well… Oh?”

    “Quite like their company too,” Wanda went on, agreeing with one of Vision’s earlier statements. Her eyes moved to the plant [Y/N] had brought them not long after they’d first moved in; the plant had outgrown its old pot at this point but had its original ribbon still intact on the current one. “And they’ve always got manners and compliments and they’re always getting so nervous that they're going to come off the wrong way.”

    “Yes,” Vision said slowly, “They treat me the same way. Sometimes, if I’m not working, I’ll come to work the next day and have files on my desk with little notes clipped to them. And they’ll sometimes even bring me a snack or a water cup after coming back from their break or lunch, even though I’ve never even pretended to drink or eat in front of them.”

    “Well, to be fair,” Wanda said, “regular humans do just randomly eat and drink things, and they do think you’re a regular human.” 

    “I often wish they didn’t, though,” Vision mumbled, rubbing his jaw, “because I’m not a big fan of lying to them and pretending as I do. I keep their snacks in my drawer until I’m heading home and then throw it out on the way because I don’t want them to see and feel bad.”

    Wanda nodded, understanding. “I’m not exactly jazzed about lying to them either.” 

    They simultaneously sighed and slumped together.

    What odd feelings, Wanda thought, for a married couple to have about their neighbor across the street.

    “Wanda?”

    “Yes, dear?”

    “Do you feel the same way about them as you do me?”

    Wanda tilted her head from side to side and tapped her chin as she thought. “Not how I feel about you now, no. But how I felt about when I first met you? Maybe. Or, at least, something like it.”

    Vision hummed. “They feel a bit familiar, don’t they?”

    “And we have such a good time together, the three of us,” Wanda added.

    A small spell of silence again.

    Then Wanda said, “I think we should ask them on a date.”

    Vision almost choked on his tongue again. “You think we should— I mean— You and me? As you and me together or you and me separately?”

    “Why not both?”

    Wanda’s husband’s eyes bugged out of his head. If they weren’t in the middle of a serious conversation, she may have laughed.

    “Can we… Can we even do that?” Vision asked.

    “I mean, I don’t see why not,” Wanda answered, shrugging. “It’s not illegal to date another person. Just marry them, I think. Actually, I’m not even sure if it’s illegal to do that.”

    “But isn’t that… An affair? Of sorts?” Vision squinted, quickly glancing between his wife and the window, whose curtains shielded his view from the person in question’s home. It almost felt disrespectful talking about [Y/N] without them present, which was odd in itself. 

    “No, not if we’re both dating the person in question, I don’t think,” Wanda said. Her brows knitted together a bit but then she perked up and placed her hands on Vision’s thigh. “I know when we can do it!”

    “When?”

    “We forgot to get your ukulele back,” She responded with a big smile. “We can go get it and ask them on a date.”

    “What would we even do on a… three-way date?” Vision cringed at himself. He would never call them a three-way again.

    “Picnic,” Wanda offered, then listed off, “Dinner out. A walk. Trip to a passion pit for a movie. Dancing but that would require one of us to know how to dance. Maybe [Y/N] knows how to dance!”

    “I know how to dance,” Vision said with a scowl.

    “No, hon, you don’t, but you’re wonderful all the same,” Wanda said and kissed him on the nose. “Besides, the three of us have almost been attached at the hip since we’ve gotten to know each other; it wouldn’t exactly be odd for us to go out and do things together. Hell, we did the talent show together today and it went very well!”

    “The gum?”

    “It went decently well!”

    Wanda could see Vision warming up to the idea just as much as she was. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to come up with dates fit for three people.

    After a moment, Vision gave her a solid nod. “Alright then! When we see them to get my ukulele, we’ll ask them on a date.”

    “Yay!” Wanda clapped. “A date!” She hopped up from her seat and, drifting back to their previous conversation, she said, “Well, I think the children need some popcorn!” Vision said her name and she spun back to look at him. “Hm, what?”

    Vision slowly stood and looked pointedly down at her stomach. She did too, then gasped and touched her ballooned out stomach. She looked as if she were a few months pregnant and after holding her stomach for a bit longer, she knew she was. Wanda looked up at her husband with a mixture of fear and wonder in her eyes; the look on his face mimicked her own.

    “Vision,” she said softly, “is this really happening?”

    Vision searched her face as he gently grasped her hands. His mouth quirked up just slightly as he answered, “Yes, my love, it’s really happening.”

    They leaned for a kiss.

    They were interrupted by a crash outside. 

    Both Wanda and Vision jumped as they looked towards the door. Then Vision scowled and released Wanda’s hands to walk over to the door.

    “If it’s that damn tree again,” he loudly grumbled, “I am going to… rip it out by the roots!”

    He walked outside and Wanda quickly followed.

    You jumped back from your sink, almost dropping a dish in shock from the crash that had just come out front. You couple a couple breaths to calm yourself, then put your dish and drying rag down and headed to the living room.

    “I swear,” you warned, loud enough so the trees outside could hear you, “I’ll come out there with a chainsaw! I don’t have one but I’ll find one and I’ll do it!”

    You walked to the front door. You peeled back the curtain hanging from its window to see Wanda and Vision—who looked strange, though it was too dark outside to tell why—walking outside their own home and out to the sidewalk. You watched them, debating on whether to walk outside as well and help investigate or not.

    “I don’t see anything!” you heard Wanda holler. Almost immediately, her and her husband’s gaze were drawn to a manhole cover in the middle of the street.

    You followed their gaze and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as the three of you watched the manhole slowly move out of place. From the corner of your eye, you saw Vision closer to Wanda, and you wished you could too, but you were stuck watching as someone climbed out of the now gaping hole in the road.

    A… beekeeper?

    A beekeeper and swarm of bees climbed out of the manhole.

    You felt that now-familiar feeling again, foggy-headed but not in pain and fiercely protective of, this time, both her and her husband and her children.

    Children?

    You scrambled to get your front door open as the strange beekeeper of the sewer turned to look at the Maximoffs. You looked down to mess with the doorknob—

    When you looked up again, you were standing on the front porch of the Maximoff house.

    How weird. 

You spun and looked around wildly, your eyes settling on the manhole cover closed tightly shut it in the street for just a few seconds longer than the rest of the environment, but everything seemed in order. Slowly relaxing, you turned back to your task of returning Vision’s ukulele. 

You raised your right hand to knock, then stopped.

Color began blooming across your arm, beginning from the same spots you vaguely remembered cutting yourself on a broken mirror recently. This time, though, there were no cuts or blood, just gray tones coming to life in bright, vivid color. Gray turned to the color of skin and the green of your blouse—you’d thought it’d been green before but now you could properly see it—and when you spun around to observe the rest of the neighborhood, it was suddenly in color too. When you slowly, awestruck, turned back to Wanda and Vision’s house, it was wonderfully colored too, as was the ukulele in your lovely, now-in-color hand.

You grinned and excitedly knocked on the door, only for it to be opened moments later by Vision, wearing a very nice yellow and blue sweater or a white-colored shirt.

“Oh, [Y/N]!” He said it in a way that was a little too loud and he nervously glanced over his shoulder at Wanda, who stood a few feet back in a beautiful outfit of bright red with her hands on her expecting stomach.

You really did like her shirt.

You just liked her.

You just liked her and her husband quite a lot.

“Sorry, bad time?” You held out Vision’s ukulele to him. “I finished cleaning up and was about to go to bed when I noticed this still sitting on my coffee table.”

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Vision chirped, still just a little too loud than necessary.

“Oh, goodness, Vis, come inside.” Wanda walked over and nudged Vision out of the way, then smiled at you and took the ukulele out of your hand.

“Remember when we first met and you said he wasn’t always like that?” you quipped with a crooked smile, which broke into a cheek-hurting grin when Wanda giggled in response.

“Suppose I hadn’t realized it yet,” Wanda teased back. She offered the ukulele to Vision, who was still standing nearby and who was now pouting, then she moved to do the side. “Would you like to come in for a drink? We were just talking about you.”

Now you were the awkward one. “Um, yeah, sure.” You stepped inside and, glancing again at Wanda’s belly, added, “I can’t believe I forgot a baby gift. Congratulations, if I haven’t said it already.”

Wanda blinked, then shut the door behind you. “Oh nonsense. There’s plenty of time left for that.”

“I feel like it came out of nowhere; they might be here sooner than you think!”

[petitelepus]

Hi I saw matchups were open and I was wondering if I could get one?

I’m afab (go by she/they pronouns) I’m bi, even though I lean towards women but if I find anyone doesn’t matter gender, I really vibe with I’ll probably feel like I’m in love with them until forever ends because I catch feelings harddd. I’m not a sexual person by nature but I’ll try things if I get curious enough.

I’m black, 5’9, curvy but on the top heavy side, and more leg than torso, I wear glasses and a lot of oversized denim jackets and I’m really proud/protective of my hair. I put a lot of time and effort into making it look good! Currently, I’ve got a cute pink fluffy afro that is long enough to touch my shoulders.

I love animals but my favorite ones are cats of any kind. I collect anything cat like it’s diamonds, and get along pretty well with them too. I even wear cat ears with almost every outfit and a cat shaped pin with bi colors :3 I like my space but also won’t mind being picked up and cuddled if I’m in the mood.

I like to read and write fiction, fantasy being the best genre to me. I like to draw as well, but not as much as writing. If I feel comfortable enough I’ll share what I make with my s/o, and if they like it it’ll probably be the best thing that’s happened to me all day. If not… well I don’t want to make them feel bad but I’ll probably be too shy to share again anytime soon.

I like to compliment others and make them feel good about myself but have a hard time accepting compliments myself. I tend to feel neutral on my own existence but it isn’t hard to hit a depressive low. I don’t like talking about my problems that much or trauma dumping. I’ll listen well to others and only respond of they want me to, and over all only speak and initiate conversations if it seems important. I feel like actions speak louder than words and only need to actually hear “I love you” if I’m feeling insecure and it’s eating me up. I try to be flirty but get too flustered if someone flirts back, especially if it’s a good one. I’ll write little notes about how much I love my s/o because they should know that they’re my entire world and I’m not afraid to resort to violence to defend them. 🐈‍⬛

Sorry if this is too long! I wasn’t sure how much I needed to put down.

I match you with Velocity and Nautica!

These two femmes go way back. They're best friends and lovers and when they met you they knew you were special. Both of them try to find courage to ask you would like to go out with them...

But they find the courage they need from each other and ask if you would want to be their third wheel. How can you say no to such a beautiful confession?

You brobably had already feelings towards them. They are both gorgeous and their smiles light up the room, but it makes you happiest when you manage to make them smile like that. And believe me, you are the reason they have been smiling more often.

Velocity and Nautica think you're the pretties human they have ever seen. The glasses on top of your nose are cute and your pink afro frames your face beautifully. Do all humans come with such a pretty hair and colors?

Nautica shares your love for animals and especially cats so HARD. Back then when she didn't know that Ravage was a sentient being, she would have been 100% ready to adopt him.

So when you put those cat ears on all bets are off. She wants to and she will pick you up and hug you close to her spark chamber because you are so fragging cute and she can't handle it.

Velocity likes all the little cat things you have collected alongside with the years and don't tell anyone, she is talking with Ultra Magnus about getting you and Nautica an actual cat. Shhh!

Velocity absolutely LOVES your stories yo have written and is your number one fan. She likes how stories take their reader into a whole new world and she loves traveling from story to story. She is honored that you chose to share your stories with her.

Nautica also likes your stories since they are well-written and intriguing. She is especially interested to learn about all the different fantasy beasts you sometimes write about. Are there any fantasy cats?

They love recieving compliments from you and they love giving them to you. They understand that you might not want to share about your troubles but sometimes it's easier to carry the problems with someone there by your side and these ladies are ready to take off some of that weight.

They tell you each day at least each hour how they love you, and if you're having hard time recieving the verbal compliments, they will happily show their love with kisses to the back of your hand, forehead or lips.

These two are awfully sappy flirts. They can and will say something that makes any other person or bot cringe, but you must really love them to put up with their flirt.

"If we had a star for every time you brightened our day, we'd have a galaxy in our hands."

Velocity and Nautica absolutely live for your notes. They also get easily flattered when you tell them you would fight the feared DJD if it meant keeping them safe. They smile and kiss you before telling you that there isn't a world if you aren't part of theirs.

[xnchxntmxnt]

This is my first time ever doing an event so if I put this in the wrong spot I am soooooooo sorry.

Alex

She/her/hers

Virgo

Male but if you really feel female that’s totally cool

I’d describe myself as shy until you know me then I’m weird, I tend to really worry about what people say so putting myself out their can be hard but I’m a super touchy person once I know you

I love photography, reading and cooking/baking

In a partner I want someone who understands that I have bad days/weeks, someone who is funny and honest A big deal breaker would be if they don’t have any respect for those around them and cheating

I switch from wearing all black or dark colors to pretty sundress with bright colors. I love steam punk style and totally wish I could pull it off

The colors that best describe me are probably yellows and blues. And my favorite color is purple

Top 3 songs right now are Just like fire, Vices, and Play with Fire. My music taste varies a lot but my favorite artists are Panic at the Disco, Black Veil Brides, and Pink

Thank you for your writing. Also CONGRATULATIONS!

@maleficents-minion

You did everything great! No worries, that’s exactly how you do this! Thank you for participating & thank you for the congrats! I’m glad you like my writing :)

After reading, I’m gonna put you with…

✧ 𝑌𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖 𝑇𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 ✧

God ur lucky I love this man anyways

✧ 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑀𝑒𝑡 ✧

Okay, consider,,, Yamaguchi + photography

I can so totally imagine this heads up like

It’s perfect if I do say so myself

He was thrilled because he got a camera he’d been saving for years

This dude was so smiley and couldn’t shut up about the camera

He and Tsukki went to a park to get pictures of the cherry blossoms while they were in bloom because he always thought they were beautiful

When he was there he saw you in his camera for a second, just walking by

He almost dropped the camera jfc

He was like ASDFGHJKL TSUKKI PRETTY GIRL

Tsukki laughed at him like

“Talk to her dummy I’ll hold your camera”

“I CAN’T TALK TO HER SHES TO PRETTY”

“I think she heard you”

He goes BRIGHT RED and just whips around

A couple of feet away you’re staring at the ground, also red, but smiling nevertheless

So he does

He goes over to talk to you and he’s awkward and blushy and smiley but the awkwardness is kinda charming

He tries apologizing and you’re like “no it was kinda cute”

Which makes him more embarrassed but still smiley

You two spend a while talking before Tsukki gets bored and walks over to him and is like “so did you get her number yet” and the process starts all over again

Safe to say, the two of you ended up seeing each other again

✧ 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 ✧

Because of how you two met, he calls you his cherry blossom I don’t make the rules (i mean I do but--)

He’s your strawberry

He does the little nose rub thingy a lot

He’ll get excited and he’s lean his forehead against yours, then bump your nose with his, then kiss the end of your nose

Call you beautiful if he’s in a sappy mood

Okay okay consider

E y e l i d k i s s e s

He loves it when you count his freckles

Like he’ll just stare lovingly at you as you ghost your finger over his cheek

Making little constellations or doodles like connecting the dots

He just stares at you with the biggest heart eyes ever

He’s so in love

He’ll love to read with you

Read to him

He’ll read to you

You two can sit with music on and just read your own books and just vibe

Growing up with Tsukki he’s not used to quiet there’s always music on whenever you do anything

Including baking

He’ll steal you away while you’re covered in flour & other things and pull you in and dance with you

He’ll sneak up behind you and snitch food

Sometime’s he’ll help but he likes seeing you so passionate about baking

Honey if you’re having a bad day, he’s the best

You don’t want to talk to anyone? He’ll leave you to your space. Maybe send you a couple of paragraphs about how much he loves you a couple of hours later

You wanna cuddle up and watch tv? He’s there with your favorite snacks

He finds cherry blossom petals and dries them and givens them to you in a little jar for the ~aesthetic~ but also cause they remind him of you

Am I imagining him giving you a jar of petals with a ring at the bottom to propose to you? Not at all why do you ask

you r best bet is just

Love him

Love him a lot

Give him the validation and support he needs and he’ll give it back tenfold

He loves you so much, just love him in return and you’ll be happy forever

✧ 𝐴 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑇𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 ✧

P I C N I C S

He’s so sappy sometimes but it’s so endearing

For an anniversary or something, he’ll take you to the park where you met and you’ll have a little picnic

Especially during the evening so you can take pictures

He offers to give you a little photoshoot during the sunset

And you accept under the condition that you get to take pictures of him too

So you do and a picture of you becomes his home screen for a long time (it’s always different pictures of you though)

You watch the stars after the sun goes down, talking about anything and everything

It started with him with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair

Then eventually you laid down too and managed to wind up with your head against his chest and curled up against him all comfy

✧ 𝑍𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑐 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 ✧

Geminis are very good communicators, which sparks curiosity about Scorpio’s personality (who are not as much so). They’re very good at sparking new ideas and developing them further together. With good communication, they can be a very good fit for each other. Both signs’ egos and pride can become a problem, but if kept in check, it could be a good relationship.

I feel bad there wasn’t a lot of information I could find supporting gemini+scorpio relationships but I said I will go down with this ship so here we are

✧ 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐴𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐 ✧

You gave me a lot of different ideas and I totally love steampunk! You could totally pull it off. But I think this sums you two up well...

✧ 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧

Tadashi gives me more chill, bedroom pop/acoustic music vibes, so I tried to find a combination you could both enjoy. Also, I listen to similar music, good choices :)

Cover Me In Sunshine - P!nk

Iris - Sleeping With Sirens

Nine In The Afternoon - Panic! At The Disco

Northern Downpour - Panic! At The Disco

If I’m Lucky - State Champs

Somewhere In Neverland (Acoustic) - All Time Low

Runners up - Azumane Asahi, Sawamura Daichi

[aprils-arcadia]

By the River

Member: Shownu Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,9k Summary: You watch the sunrise from your favorite place in your hometown, when you are suddenly interrupted by a handsome stranger. 

She was sitting on the little concrete slope near the river. Once it was probably used to let boats into the water, but that had stopped even before she was born. Now it was just one of the nicest places to sit and think. With the river to her right and the embankment to her left she was surrounded by trees in this little nook.  

She used to come here quite often when she still lived nearby with her parents but by now she had moved into the city and the visits to her parents were less frequent than she was comfortable with. Work had taken up way too much of her life and driving home with public transport had always been a hassle. So over time the visits got rarer and rarer, making her miss this place and her parents even more. No matter where she went she always treasured this little fleck of earth in the town she grew up in and spent so many happy years of her childhood. Whenever she came back a smile always adorned her face no matter if it was snowing, bright sunshine, or raining like it just had a second ago.   

It had been a nice summer shower, washing away the dust and the dry heat. Unfortunately it was over before it even really began. Her clothes had already dried within the last few minutes but the remaining raindrops on the embankment still glistened in the now returned sun. 

This wasn’t a famous tourist spot or a hotspot of the local youth, no this was her secret spot. The spot she spent so many hours as a kid, talking to her friends or just being alone with her thoughts. In this little niche beside the river she had her privacy. If she wanted to cry nobody would notice and if she laughed nobody would care. 

It had been the right choice to take the week off, to get away from work and to spend her little vacation here, right where she would always belong. The week housesitting for her parents brought back so many memories, memories that were still ever present in the house itself, be it the old photobooks in her dad’s office or the big framed picture depicting all her family members, her uncles, her cousins and she herself: A young girl forced to wear a dress to look pretty but her hair the usual unkempt mess. She was sitting next to her mom and desperately tried to hide a patched-up finger behind her back but the white bandages still shone brightly next to her dark blue dress.

She stretched her arms into the air and a yawn escaped her mouth. It had been worth getting up at 5 a.m., seeing the sun rise over the horizon, colouring the sky in a bright orange was a sight that was worth every minute of lost sleep. She probably should go back to get ready for the day but not yet, instead she rolled her jacket into a little pillow and layed down on the hard concrete, the tiny stones hurting her back a little but not enough to make her want to leave. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. The earthy smell of petrichor and the fresh scent of the river filled her lungs and she smiled to herself. 

She truly loved this place. 

The sound of the steady waves lapping on to the shore whenever a boat went past, the screeching of the lone seagull that had made its way down south and the rustling of the wind in the leaves around her lulled her into a comfortable nothingness.

Her reverie was interrupted by an unfamiliar smell and the sound of the dry grass being crunched under someone’s feet. Lazily she opened her eyes only to look up at a young man around her age. 

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you.” He took a step back. “I'd better leave". 

"No worries." She sat up and turned around to look at him properly. He was wearing a pair of black running shorts and a black sleeveless top. His hair was disheveled and still wet either from the rain or from the sweat that was also running down his arms making them shimmer in the morning sun. “I wasn't really sleeping and I should probably leave soon anyway."

"I didn't mean to drive you away. It's not like I own the place." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled shyly. 

"True" she giggled. He looked kind and trusting. His eyes radiated a calm and warm aura that made her feel instantly comfortable around him. "Do you wanna sit down?"

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind." He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, so that it no longer stuck to his forehead but now lay in strands. 

She scooted over and gestured at him to sit down. "Not at all. There’s plenty of room for the both of us." 

He sat down next to her, adjusting a bit so that their shoulders would be far enough apart.

"I'm sorry that this is gonna sound like one of those cheesy pick up lines but do you come here often?" A sweet laugh left her mouth, as warm as the summer sun. "Cheesy doesn't necessarily mean bad, I mean that one's a classic.” 

"No,” He corrected quickly “I just meant that I've never seen you around here." 

"I used to live here when I was younger,” She brushed off the sand from her calves and unfolded her little jacket pillow. “Now I'm just housesitting. What about you?" She looked into his eyes as if it was the most natural thing, somehow awkwardness never crossed her mind.

"I've discovered this place on one of my morning runs.” He leaned forward to tighten the knot on his bright blue sneakers. "And now I always stop by here each morning when I'm done."

"Commendable" 

"If you say so.” He smiled at her, his face losing all its rough features instantly. “I just really like this place.” His gaze wandered over to the water that was slowly receding only to be pushed back onto the shore. "It's nice to just sit, watch the waves and just be for a second."

"I agree.” she said. “Nobody really bothers you, well normally at least." She scrunched up her nose and they both laughed.   

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he apologized, still smiling brightly.

“Soo…” she leaned back examining his broad back and shoulders trying to read the letters that were printed on his shirt. “Sho-”

“-Shownu.” he finished. 

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Shownu? I mean there isn't really anything here.” Her hometown had always been a place for old people, sure they had an elementary school but that was about it. The local businesses were slowly moving to the city and apart from one big company, a few bakers and supermarkets it was pretty much just a residential area. No nightlife, on the contrary even, this neck of the woods still clung to their night and sunday rest rules so tightly that loud music after 10 p.m. could easily be answered by the old lady two houses over calling the police on you. The cinema in the nearest town had gone bankrupt and you had to drive half an hour by bus to even get to a decent clothing store. It was no wonder that everyone moved to the city when they finally got the chance.  

"Well, I got seconded here a few months back. I work over there.” He pointed to the big building visible on the horizon on the other side of the river. “I found a nice flat on this side so I just took it. The ferry isn’t that bad of a commute”

“I loved to ride the ferry as a kid.” She said enthusiastically, remembering all the times she went over to the other side to go to the beach or to walk around with her friends and their dogs.  

“Well it gets old rather quickly I can tell you. But the water and the fresh air is a nice wake up on an early morning.” He leaned back steading himself on his hands. 

“And how do you like it here so far?” she asked, playing around with the little blade of grass she had plucked to her right. 

“To be honest, in the beginning it was quite the change. I grew up in a big city and was always so used to the bustle on the streets and the huge amount of people. This is the complete opposite. I mean I once went a day without seeing another human soul on the streets. It had quite the apocalyptic vibe.” He laughed. 

“It probably just meant that the local football team was playing.” She shrugged. Those had been the best days, when almost everyone was out and no one roamed the streets anymore. As a child she used those days to play badminton in the streets with her brother or go for a walk without ever meeting anyone. It was a nice change of pace each time. 

“That makes sense. Anyway it’s actually really nice to live here.”

“Why is that? I mean I know my reason but I’d like to hear yours.” The blade of grass in her hand was now a tiny ball of knots. She put it down beside her and gave it a little flick, watching it roll down the concrete and into the water. 

“I think it’s quite idyllic. When I lived in the city everything seemed so cold, distant and impersonal. In comparison this place feels unbelievably warm. This is probably gonna sound stupid but it feels loved”

She didn’t answer. Instead she just looked at his profile, at the kindness in his eyes and let his words slowly sink in. This place feels loved. To hear someone else say this made her incredibly happy. 

“Sorry that was a bit weird.” he said sitting back up, looking at her. 

“No, not at all.” She let her head sink between her knees looking out onto the shoreline and the line of grasses which gently swayed in the wind.

“I’m really telling you everything here, huh” he chuckled a little shyly and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Sure seemed that way.” she smiled. 

“Must be this place, makes it way too easy to open up to a complete stranger. Well now you owe me one. What brought you back here?”

“Since we are already on the sappy side of things I can just hop onto the train.” She took a deep breath and sighed “I miss this place. It makes life seem so simple and easy. I can forget about work and the stress of the city when I come here.” She smiled, more to herself that to anybody and her eyes were clouded with nostalgia. “In the end it’s home, simple as that.” 

Without warning a loud ringing tone interrupted their conversation. “Oh sh*t.” Shownu got up, quickly turning off the alarm on his phone. “I’m sorry to just leave like this.”

“Nah it’s fine. Wouldn’t want you to be late for work. I better get going as well.” She got up and wrapped her jacket around her hips.

“Hope to see you again soon” he said and sprinted off. 

Me too, she thought. Maybe just now she found another reason to come back here more often. 

[yas-puckerman]

WHO: Lisette & Yas ( @lisetterosegilbert )​ WHEN: end of the year WHAT:   after going out   //  setting up to scene & chatting WARNINGS: Drugs    - two separate smol unfinished

All Night Vibing; 

If Lisette had been asked to recount the entire night in a court of law, she would have had to say that she couldn't.  It had all turned into one beautiful, wonderful hazy blur in her head and now that she was pressed up against Yas' side, smoke hanging in the air around them, she didn't care about the parts that she couldn't remember.  Only the parts that had etched themselves into her brain were important, and even those would likely fade under the combined effects of alcohol, orgasm, and a few hits. Yas had exhausted her, in every possible and perfect way, and Lisette's legs had all but stopped working.  Fortunately she had no need to get up, and nowhere she needed to be, and for as long as they wanted to cuddle there they could.  She drank Yas in, the warmth of her body and the heady scent of her, and felt another tiny aftershock of her last two orgasms ripple through her like a breeze.  "Mmm," she moaned under her breath, exhaling a cloud of smoke.  "So good, Miss Yas.  That was so good."

Yas turned into Lisette, her arm comfortably pinned supporting Lisette's head and left a sloppy kiss to the side of the submissive's neck. "Just don't tell anyone I let you smoke because I have a feeling the florist chick you hang around with might have some thoughts..." She grinned anyway, blissed out from their night. Yas pulled a few buckles loose at her waist and tugged the leather straps and heavy silicone away from her body to be discarded on the floor for now. Strap, vibrator, dance floor, and a little henny had them settled in for the night. Snug back in the Switches room before curfew on the dot. She prided herself at least for that. Yas took another hit and put it out in the ashtray beside her bed for later. When she rolled back into Lisette she brought her leg up to hook over the other woman's thighs, cradling herself around her as she pressed her face into the crook of Lisette's shoulder. "I had a lot of fun too." She said, agreeing. "You're fun to be out with babygirl."

Lisette giggled, pressing her face against Yas.  She normally wore her emotions on her sleeve even when she was sober, and she was very much not sober.  Between the pre-game, the drinks at the bar, the henny and a few hits she was flying very high and all the more emotional.  "Not to worry, Miss," she promised in what was meant to be a whisper but came out several notches louder than she meant it, "no one's going to hear a word about it from me."  It was hard not to watch the strap as it was removed, and Lisette licked her lips at the sight of it.  They definitely needed to play with that again. Having Yas pressed against her fell very much into the realm of a good thing.  Her hand came up so that she could run her fingers gently through her hair even as she kissed her temple - a feat of coordination that even surprised Lisette.  "As are you, Miss Yas.  Very, very fun."

Yas puffed an airy chuckle at the kiss to her temple, rewarding Lisette by squeezing her just a bit tighter to get her closer. Hot sex followed by cute cuddles was a personal favorite of Yas'. Truly the dirtier the interaction or scene followed by the most mellow and cheerful closeness. It really hit on something for her. "And you were a good girl too. Being very patient for what you needed." Yas said, tracing a single finger over Lisette's lower belly before hooking it back over her hip to hold her. "At the bar, on the dance floor." The Switch closed her eyes against the memory, hips winding together to music bumping around them, dance floor full of people, knowing damn well the submissive was sporting a hidden vibrator in her panties. It gave Yas a chill again just thinking about it. "I especially liked that choice to wait and let me fuck you. So fun, babygirl. I'd fully do it again any time you wanted."

Lisette happily squirmed in closer, face lighting up with a grin as her temple was kissed.  "I wasn't sure that I was going to make it through that," she confessed in another loud voice that was meant to be a whisper.  Apparently being high left her without any sort of inside voice.  "I was pretty sure I was either going to explode or faint before we finished dancing.  But I had good inspiration," her fingers reached out to skim across Yas' soft skin.  "Because I knew that if I could hold on I could have something so much more fun than just what I'd get on the dance floor." Her gaze flicked to the strap and back to Yas.  "I couldn't choose anything else, Miss.  I just couldn't.  Because I really, really wanted you to fuck me."  A smile tugged at her lips.  "We'll definitely have to do it again, because that was amazing.  You took really good care of me, I hope you know that."

Chit-Chat;

Yas hadn't gone into the week thinking it would be a draining one but starting the week off with a long ass test really put the Switch in a mood. She'd greeted Lisette at the door, taking her by the hand to pull her up from kneeling and directly to the bedroom. "Exciting week huh?" She said as she tugged off her shirt and dropped her sweatpants to the floor to comfortably be in a bra and boxers as she jumped into the unmade blankets. Thursday was her relax night. No work, lately no plans except for family, but Lisette seemed like an exception and Yas had specifically chose it for their evening so they'd have plenty of time to chill. "How's unsingle life?"

Lisette was incredibly grateful to be done with the retest.  There had been a tremendous amount of stress in her as she worried about whether she'd somehow be found something other than a submissive, despite the fact that she knew full well it's all she was and all she was meant to be.  The rest of the week had passed in something of a blur, but when Thursday came she was more than happy to know that she'd be spending time with Yas.  "Very, Miss.  Not in a great way, necessarily, because I think everyone just ended up feeling super stressed and not very happy, but it was a lot.  I'm happy it's almost over." Without being prompted she stripped down as well, to her underwear and a white tank top she'd worn under her button-up shirt, and climbed under the covers to rest against Yas.  "It's good, Miss," she confirmed with a grin.  "Miss Emerson makes me happy, and I like to think that I do the same for her.  We're going slow, but I think that's the best thing for us both.  How's happily single life?"

“Happy.” Yas replied automatically. It was true, she was plenty busy and bouncing around was almost exclusively what she lived by. Occasionally there would be someone but even then the Switch couldn’t really be tethered down. Yas shifted, moving so her leg was hooked over the submissive, along with nearly half her body. “Emerson seems dope.” She said, beginning to trace her fingers in circles around the submissive’s shoulder. “I was told for play and shit you gotta earn your orgasms.” The Switch continued, her touch moving down to the flat of Lisette’s chest, through the valley of her breasts and over her stomach. “We could just chill but, if you wanna...how you tryin to do that?”

"I'm really glad to hear it," Lisette smiled.  Yas was a lovely person, one who had always treated her well and been willing to spend time with her, and she deserved to enjoy the single life and all of the benefits that came along with it.  When their bodies entangled a little she leaned closer, humming softly as shapes were traced against her skin.  Every time that they'd enjoyed each other Lisette had come away happy, and if Yas was in the mood for more she'd happily be a part of it.  "She is - I don't even think she knows how lovely she is, or how much she means to me." Lisette shivered as fingers traced a path between her breasts.  "That's right, Miss," she nodded, eager to see what would come next.  "By making sure that whoever I'd like them from is satisfied," her voice dropped a bit as she turned to catch Yas' eye.  "In any way that they want, Miss."

Listening to Lisette talk about Emerson was... nauseating. Cute, but, too cute. The Switch did not have a lot of interest in the sappy side of what was going on between them. She had however had a lot of questions about their little advent calendar game the girl's Dominant had arranged. "Any way." Yas grinned, "People gotta stop telling me that." She said as her hand disappeared beneath the thin fabric of Lisette's panties, to place her palm over the awkward metal chasity, exactly where she'd be cupping the submissive had she not been wearing it. "Before I found out ya girl was gonna go lock and key on you for the month I was gonna used the thigh strap with the wand to watch you cum for hours but, don't want to go break any of Ms Miss's rules..." She pulled the panties away, pulling them past Lisette's knees with a chin toss for her to kick them away, wanting to get a better look. Yas had seen the exact one Emerson picked but it looked different on Lisette. Yas felt herself literally salivating, a thrumming getting going between her legs at the sight.

Lisette laughed softly at Yas' response, wondering idly how many other people were telling her that.  It wasn't any of her business, mind, now would she ask, but she supposed many people liked spending time with the Switch, and that many people liked giving her control.  The soft hand pressed against her belt made her gasp, arching slightly into the touch with color high in her cheeks.  The game was fun, but she was grateful every day that she didn't have to wear the belt all the time - it heightened everything that she felt, and eventually it'd be too much to take.  "I'm sure," her voice cracked and she swallowed hard.  "I'm sure Mistress appreciates it, Miss Yas."  Lisette all too eagerly kicked away her panties and spread her legs wider, giving Yas a good look at the metal between her legs.  "What do you think of it, Miss?"

"I think I shoulda snagged an extra key from work." Yas retorted honestly but she backed away from the thought quickly. Emerson still let her spend time with Lisette like they did, and Lisette clearly enjoyed it and was interested, she respected the Domme enough not to pull anything that could compromise that or indirectly make the submissive feel badly. A quick wondering thought about herself in a chasity and how she would feel going off book crossed her mind but she quickly trashed it. She'd never agree to a chasity. "Nah. Jokes." She promised and pulled herself up and over Lisette to straddle her. The Switch rid Lisette of her tank and made quick work of unhooking the only other piece of fabric she had left on, wanting to get a full view of her. Yas leaned back, dark eyes scanning over the submissive's body, she took a moment to appreciate the belt. "I think I'd feel better about it if I was the one that locked it on you." She decided, giving Lisette her honest answer. She hooked her fingertips just under the metal at the waist, watching it tighten in places. "But I'm glad you still got it on..." Her lips quirked up devilishly and the Switch couldn't help her grin. "Vibration works hella good on metal..."

Lisette's eyes widened a little.  She couldn't deny that having the belt come off would have allowed her more fun for the night, at least in one way, but just as quickly she realized she'd only end up apologizing to Emerson.  Even if her Domme would never find out otherwise, Lisette was the type to carry that sort of guilt until she couldn't bear it any more.  Her slightly shocked expression turned to a smile when Yas admitted that she was joking, though.  She lifted her arms when necessary, allowing herself to be divested of the last of her clothing, and her eyes darkened with need at Yas' confession.  At her next words, though, Lisette squeezed her thighs together with a whimper.  "I don't think I've tried that, Miss Yas.  But that...that sounds like fun."

Yas lean to one side, swinging her other leg in the opposite direction so she could get up off the bed. The wand was on top because she’d recently cleaned it knowing Lisette was coming by but she had to rummage in her closet some moments before finding the leather thigh harness, fresh from the plastic. She’d picked it out specifically with the submissive in mind. Yas was deliberate with her touches while she buckled it against Lisette’s thighs, taking her time as she did. She kept getting distracted with playing her fingers at the crease where her legs met her middle, one of the only delicate parts of the submissive before her that she had access to. By the time Yas had gotten it tightly into place around Lisette’s thighs, wand ready and plugged in secured more firmly against the solid belt than she would have without it in the way. She was impatient to touch the submissive. Yas scaled her body to hang over her and quickly captured her lips in an intense kiss. Rough, languid, and for herself. When she pulled away with a pop she was still holding Lisette’s face between her fingertips. She smiled down at the submissive and moved her thumb over her bottom lip to watch the rosy tint of them disappear under the pressure then flood back brighter on release. “Comfy?” She asked before she could give into another indulgence.

Lisette propped herself up on her elbows as Yas moved away, curious to see just what she had in mind.  One of the best things about their scenes was always how creative Yas could be, and she squirmed helplessly on the bed as she considered what might lie in store for her and her belt.  The thigh harness was something new and she tried to watch to see just how it would all work, but every touch of fingers against her made her shut her eyes anew, soft whimpers and delicate moans slipping through her lips as Yas lit a fire in her that she knew she couldn't put out.  Only when the wand was pressed firmly against the metal shield between her legs did Lisette truly understand what she was in for, and even then she only had a moment to consider it before Yas was kissing her, hard and rough.  She rose slightly from the bed in response, trying to take as much from the kiss as she could, and when the Switch pulled away but held onto her face her whole body went week.  The firm press of fingers to her lip produced an even louder moan, but the submissive still nodded firmly at the question - orders first, wants after.  "Very comfy, Miss Yas, thank you."

[coveredinsweetpea]

I Can't Fall In Love Without You || K.J. Apa

A/n: This was requested by @namelesslosers . Thank you!! I fucked it up a bit, but i hope you’ll still like it!

Summary: Y/n is a famous singer/actress who used to date KJ. When one night, at a ceremony they’re both attending, she performs a song that’s ‘not-so-subtly’ about him, things take a turn.

-

“Y/n, hurry! why aren’t you dressed?” or “Sign your name here, here and here” or “You have to go to this event, everyone will there” Words could never describe just how sick you were of having to put up with this specific façade. This on going rush you’ve been living in, this ever lasting maze of horror filled fake smiles, exhausted in you in a way you never thought possible. The life inside you was now grey colored, and a dark aura surrounded you. At this point, you had the exact same job, hung out with the exact same people, lived in the same house and slept in the same bed as you did when you still had him. Walking inside your apartment and not hearing any “Babe, I made food, the top is a little burnt but I’ll eat that part, I swear the bottom tastes really good. Gordon Ramsey taught me” felt utterly useless, and it didn’t take long before it turned into dread. The Grammy’s were tonight, and you sighed heavily as you got out of the limousine, realizing this was yet another red carpet you’d walk without KJ by your side. You’ve done it for years before meeting him, you knew what to do and how to act, the whole thing was that you didn’t want to do it by yourself. You missed his arm around your waist, and those stupid dad jokes he’s whisper in your ear just to get you to flash that genuine smile of yours for the camera. Despite being media trained and knowing exactly what to do, how to keep your legs and shoulders, where to look and so on in order to look good in pictures, KJ knew just how much better you looked when your true feeling were showing. All things considered, you were sure no one noticed just how much different you looked without him, but frankly, you were glad they had no idea. The last thing you needed were more questions about him, considering it had been months since you two parted ways.

“God!” Mary exclaimed, rushing to you, “How many times do I have to say this! Don’t sit down!” “Yeah yeah yeah” you mumbled, standing up from the armchair. Your eyes were still trained on the screen of your phone, following carefully a thread showing all the outfits people wore to the event. You knew Joe was invited, but since he wasn’t a nominee or an important guest, you weren’t surprised you didn’t see pictures of him yet. “Looking for him again?” your best friend sighed, “You’re performing in 2 minutes, get your vibes on!” “I’d fucking have my vibes on-” you snapped, talking as you walked away from her, “If you’d just let me be!” “What’s gotten your panties in a bunch, huh?” she taunted, walking towards you, “Haven’t seen you this moody in a while” “Meg, you know I love you” you sighed, turning around just enough to be able to look her in the eye, “But now is not the time” “It’s KJ, isn’t it?” “No, it’s not” you lied with a roll of your eyes, “I’m just nervous, that’s all” To be fair, it wasn’t a complete lie. You really were more nervous than you’ve been in ages, but that was because this was the biggest stage you’d walk on without as much as a smile of encouragement from him. KJ was somewhere in the audience, and the fact that your source of confidence would just watch your performance from beginning to end without having any direct influence over it, made you knees weak. Eventually, there was no where for you to hide anymore as the time to step on stage finally came. You did so on shaky knees, but as soon as your ears were met with chants of excitement and rounds of applause, you remembered why you chose this path in life. After a few seconds the lights dimmed, and silence settled. The song you had to perform wasn’t the most vocally challenging, but the emotional baggage it brought upon you was enough to make your lungs shake with every word you sang.

“I can be out every night No one else holding me down I can do just what I like But I can’t fall in love without you I can’t fall in love without you

Please don’t fall in love without me I hope you’re sorry Can’t find the words to say Hope you’re always worried Worryin’ ‘bout me”

Your palms were sweaty against the microphone and your ears were ever so numb, that you could barely hear yourself. The emotion for this song came from somewhere deep within, and you knew your secret was out - if you could even call it a secret. But at that moment, you didn’t care about them, all you saw before your eyes were the endless nights you spent without KJ. It didn’t matter if you were alone or not, it was his company you wanted, not anyone else’s. After your performance, Shawn Mendes took the stage and ended the whole ceremony, as you watched quietly from backstage. When everything was over, you hurried to change out of your long light blue dress, and into a black one, which despite being less revealing, was shorter and tighter. Ditching your pair of high heel sandals in favor of a pair of silver stilettos, you jumped into your car, where your stylist did her magic, and turned your flawless curls into a sea of messy waves. While you were still more than a few blocks away from where the after  party was to be held, your phone started blowing up. Twitter had gone mad, 3 different hashtags involving you and KJ were trending, your Instagram follower count had gone up by 80.000 bringing you close to the 70M milestone. All kinds of magazines and websites, most of which you haven’t even heard of before were posting about you, updating, speculating and analyzing. As it turns out, performing a song that was obviously about your ex after you’ve just received the first Grammy of your career, was indeed a big deal. The way from your car and to the door of the venue was quitter than you expected, but it was still early and the paparazzi hadn’t yet found the location. You calmly walked inside, the party already in full swing. A lot of celebrities that had no business attending the ceremony but were considered important enough by the mainstream media, were invited to this party. Most of your friends were there, so it didn’t take long for you to mingle in. You tried keeping yourself busy jumping from group to group, meeting new people and seeing old friends, but your mind wasn’t having it. KJ was still haunting your thoughts, so you made your way to the bar, hoping a drink would help you get in the mood to party. As you pondered what to order, you felt a very familiar cologne invade your senses. It made your knees weak, and your heart was beating at a pace that was by no means safe as you feared that at any moment, it would physically burst out of your chest. “Two strawberry vodka” you heard him saw, and it took everything inside of you not at aww at his words, as that had been your drink, starting from your very first date, up to the last time you drank together. “Wow” you smiled, turning to him, “Classy” “You taught me” KJ laughed, already blushing. It might have been the light, but the red in his hair was darker and his dark brown roots were beginning to show - that was something you always loved about him. He was wearing a plain white t shirt tucked into black jeans, and had his hair not been red, he would have made a perfect James Dean. “What’s up?” you asked softly, facing him completely despite still leaning against the bar. “I just wanted to congratulate you” he said, waving his arm. He would have touched you, squeezed your elbow or patted your shoulder, but you sensed the fear in his gestures, and it truly pained you. “Thank you” you smiled, “This is really big, didn’t think I’d win” “I knew you would” he grinned. “Did you?” “Yeah!” KJ nodded, before his smile faded, “I actually wanted to text you last night and wish you good luck and all that, but I figured it was a bad idea” “It wasn’t” you pouted, “I would have appreciated it. But now is almost just as good” He looked at you, his eyes lingering on yours as a new kind of smile curled the corners of his lips upwards. “I know just the thing-” he mumbled, grabbing his phone out of his right pocket. He kept it so you couldn’t see what he was doing, but soon after your drinks arrived, he placed his phone back in his pocket, and an exact second later, your own buzzed. “Oh god” you giggled, rolling your eyes. It was obviously a text from him, but you didn’t hesitate to read it. “Hey, Y/N, I know we haven’t talked in ages and I hate that a lot. I am also aware I missed a lot of important things in your life, but I did follow as much as I could through the internet so my prediction is based on facts. I’ll keep this short because I know you don’t like sappy moments, but that Grammy is yours. There’s no doubt about it. One day, you’ll win an Oscar too, I know it. Good luck, angel! x” “See?” you whined, stomping your foot against the floor, “Why are you like this?” “Like what?” he asked curious, leaning his head to the side. “Like-” you stuttered, furrowing your brows, “Like you!” “Like me?” KJ laughed, advancing towards you a bit, but still keeping a decent distance between your bodies, “Why am I like me? what do you mean?” You rolled your eyes with a scoff, “You know what I mean!” “Why do I still worry about you even after all this time?” he teased, coming another step closer. Despite knowing where this was going you didn’t have it in you to stop it, “Don’t make references to my song!” “It’s a good song” he defended himself. “Of course it is” you scoffed, closing the distance between your bodies. “Why? Because you wrote it?” KJ mocked, wrapping his left arm around your middle. You looked up into his eyes and saw him smiling down at you. It warmed your heart as you haven’t seen that exact reaction in months, and to be honest, it was you absolute favorite thing in the word. He looked at you in complete awe and you were done. “No…” you whispered, “Because it’s about you” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I still love you, you know? Nothing changed for me, and it won’t anytime soon” Your teasing mood and flirty attitude disappeared in an instant, now you were sad, angry - at yourself, and had no idea what to do. “I shouldn’t have performed that song, this isn’t ok” Despite saying these things, you didn’t back away from him. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in his neck. KJ brought you closer to his chest, holding you tight around your middle. It was a hug at the edge between a reunion and a goodbye, and you were dead set on not letting go of him until you knew which one of the two it actually was. “Hey-” KJ said, gently pushing you away so he could look into your eyes as he spoke, “We can talk about this, whatever it is. Let’s go outside and-” “No” you shook your head, “I can’t do this tonight” “I-” he tried to speak, obviously taken aback, but you stopped him. “I waited for this night ever since I was 8. I dreamed about holding that award in my hands for so long, I don’t want anything to ruin this for me” It was visible just how much your words pained him, but he held it all back. Or at least he tried. Tears glistered at the corners of his eyes, but he still nodded in agreement, taking a step back, “I respect that” You grabbed his hand to stop him, as you didn’t want to let anything unfinished, “I do love you, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Take me back-” you said, “for tonight. Can everything go back to normal, just for this night, and we’ll talk about it in the morning, and we’ll work through things as they come, I thought I-” KJ cut you off, as he grabbed your cheeks, and kissed you. He was more passionate than you ever felt him. You’ve done this so many times, yet this felling right now, it was knew. You teeth still clanked against his, and you still licked the corner of his mouth by mistake, but your eyes remained closed, just as his, because this was new. This was the beginning of something new. It was like your very first kiss all over again. With one arm around you and a hand planted on the side of your rib cage, he held you as close as he could, every now and then sighing against your lips, sighs which eventually turned into little moans, until you had to pull away. “Scare me like that ever again-” “What?” you laughed, “Did you think we were gonna break up again, or?” “Are you ever not this sassy?” KJ exclaimed. “Would I still be the woman you fell in love with if I didn’t mock you?” He laughed out loud, “Probably not, so please don’t ever stop”

[cherry-holland]

Safe Haven - h.o.

Summary - sometimes, your safety bubble needs a good pop.

A/N - HI everyone!! So this is my first one-shot in what seems like forever to me, so please go easy on me!!! I was originally gonna go with a different storyline, but my heart was set on this sooo here we are 🥰

Warnings - nothing but fluff, maybe a slight bit of angst, but mainly fluff 🥰

~~~~

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” You ask while your best friend, Clara, drags you and the tall, faux leather heels you’d rather not be in tonight along the pebbled pavement.

“Yes, (y/n), now will you stop worrying and have a good damn time? Let loose girl!” Clara laughs.

A deep sigh leaves your mouth as a silent agreement. You and a few friends were in London for the week vacationing, and they all had planned the entire trip without your knowing. It had all been great - you got lost in the lovey, whimsical streets of London with your closest friends while enjoying all of the delicacies it had to offer. But tonight, you just wanted to stay at the Airbnb and just enjoy each other’s companies... and of course, your friends had other plans.

Clara and the rest of your crew wanted to taste a bit of the London nightlife, and they whisked you out of your sweats and into a tight, form fitting red dress that did an amazing job at highlighting your cleavage and curves. Everyone was dressed to the nines tonight, and you knew where you were headed before you even left the house because of the obvious club attire.

Back home, you were not much of a party girl. You were the girl who would rather be cuddled up on the couch, with a good cup of coffee in hand, and an amazingly sappy rom-com playing in the background. It took a lot out of your friends to get you to even agree to go to London, even though you had always wanted to go since you were little. You liked to know what was going to happen next - the expected was safety. The only safety you knew.

Your felt that bubble start to expand when you and Clara reached the entrance of the club. It was a small, cozy-yet-edgy building that had various different colored lights cascading outside of the door, illuminating the dark and gloomy evening. You and Clara breezed by the line of people anxiously waiting to get in, hearing muffled groans as you two walked by.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you missed when Clara slipped the bouncer a big bill, and gave a sly wink as he let the two of you through. You felt Clara tug on your hand as you two weaved through the massive crowd of people inside. People who had drinks in hand, dancing as if they didn’t have a care in the world. As if their safety bubble was non-existent.

“Hey guys, we’ve made it!” Clara exclaimed as she reached the table with the rest of your friends. She tossed her long, dark locks as she sauntered over to give the group a hug, and you followed suit.

“Well, well, well, we finally got (y/n) inside of a club! Thought we’d never see the day!” One of your friends, Allie, spoke as she gave you a hug, feigning surprise.

“Oh hush, Allie, we can’t all be big partiers like you,” you snap back sarcastically, drawing a hoard of laughter from the group.

“Oh, (y/n), you’re too much,” your other friend, Elias, sighs, shaking his head jokingly. “Are y’all gonna get drinks, or are you gonna just stand there while we get plastered?”

“Trust me, we’re getting this bitch wasted tonight!” Clara shouts, nudging you. “She needs to let loose, and hell, maybe find a man...”

“Clara,” you gasp, slapping your friend on her shoulder. “I am in no way gonna be man-hunting tonight! We’re in a foreign country, and I am not a one-night-stand kind of girl! We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know (y/n/n),” Allie shakes her head, and her face changes from one of playfulness to seriousness. “Really though, you should though! You’re exactly right - you’re in a foreign country... if you can call England that. And, you look freaking hot as hell, you should own it!”

You bow your head down as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, having your hair cover your obvious blush. Compliments have never been easy for you, regardless of who they’re coming from. But you knew deep down inside that you did look good, and you took a deep sigh. Your friends were right - you knew you looked good, and you also knew that no matter what happened, that your friends were here to help you if anything.

“Fine, let’s go get some drinks,” you look up to Clara, who’s grinning wickedly.

The two of you navigate the crowd as you reach the bar. Clara flags down the bartender as you lean against the cold, shiny edge of the mahogany table, just taking in the scenery. British clubs were a lot different than American clubs, but in a way they all have the same vibe. People getting drunk. People dancing suggestively against strangers and friends. The random couples sprinkled throughout making out like if it’s the last time they’ll see each other. It’s all the same.

“Hey, (y/n), what drink do you want?” Clara shouts, her thick Spanish accent shining through her words.

“Um, I’ll have a Long Island iced tea!” You reply with a smile.

“Hmm, never seen anyone order that around here before,” you hear a heavily accented voice to your right.

You turn around to see probably the most beautiful boy you have ever laid your eyes on. His dark blonde hair was slightly gelled back, but you could see he had gorgeous little ringlets sitting atop his head. His piercing light blue eyes were glimmering, with what seemed to be genuine intrigue, but you think it could just be the alcohol from the beer in his hand. He’s smiling this big, movie star smile, all teeth, and you can make out the smallest faint of a dimple in his left cheek.

“Oh, um, yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” you mutter, and that same heat is instantly back on your cheeks, threatening to take over your entire face.

The boy smiles as he raises his eyebrows curiously at you, and you instantly knew he caught you staring a bit too long. “Ah, I see. You’re not from ‘round here, are you?” He drawls, his charming accent oozing out.

“No, I think that’s pretty obvious,” you laugh nervously, ruffling your neatly done hair to one side.

“Yeah, your accent alone gave you away before I heard the drink order,” he replies, mimicking your nervous giggle. “I’m Harrison.”

“Oh hey, I’m (y/n). Didn’t know my accent was a dead giveaway that soon,” you grin, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

“Love, that accent can be easily picked out in this place. It’s not everyday you see such a gorgeous American in some small, unknown club in the heart of London,” Harrison says, moving a bit closer to you with that damn charming smile and glint of mischief in his blue eyes.

You felt yourself blushing for the third time that night at his comment. Gorgeous American? Is he serious? “Well, then it must be my luck, huh?”

“I guess it is, darling,” Harrison smirks as he takes a swig of his beer.

“(Y/n/n)! I have your -“ Clara interrups the moment between you and Harrison, and a devilish grin paints her face. “Oh hello. Sorry to interrupt you guys, I’ll leave you two to your conversation.” She walks away after handing you your drink before you two could even respond, sending a wink your way.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry about her,” you start, groaning at her response.

“It’s okay. My mates would have done the same thing, give or take a few comments,” Harrison replies with a chuckle.

The two of you laugh at his comment, and you both look up at each other with flushed faces.

“So, (y/n), what brings you to London?”

The question brings about a flurry of conversation between the two of you, and you notice how easy it was to talk to Harrison. He made conversation so easily, just talking about everything from his job and his family, and his attentiveness to your responses was attractive. He didn’t seem like a douchebag who only wanted a quick shag, he seemed... so safe, yet something about him was alluring.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’ve been just talking for... holy shit, almost two hours?” You say as you look at your phone after a while. “Oh my God, Harrison I am so sorry I’m taking you away from your evening.”

“No, no, love. You’re not bothering me at all. Actually, it’s quite the opposite,” Harrison insists, laying a hand on top of yours that was perched on top of the bar counter. “You’ve made this evening far more bearable for me. I’m enjoying your company.”

Holy shit. You feel your lips curl up in a bashful smile as you desperately try to keep your cool. “Well, Harrison, I am enjoying your company too.”

You felt the strong hit of the one too many Long Island iced teas you’d had while taking to Harrison hit you, and the liquid courage it brings. You intertwine your hand that was underneath Harrison’s and felt his soft yet slightly rough hand easily slip through your tiny, smooth one. You placed your free hand on Harrison’s thigh, with your eyes flickering up to him. You felt the immense heat of desire flare up in your chest as your (y/e/c) eyes locked with his icy blues.

Harrison’s leg tensed, and you saw his cheeks turn from a slight pink from the alcohol to an almost deep red at your touch. You saw his eyes go soft, and it nearly made your heart burst out of your chest.

You also noticed his eyes flickering down to your neatly painted red lips, and back up again to your eyes. Once again, those damn baby blues caught your heart off-guard, and you swore he could hear your heart pounding like crazy. Going crazy with desire, want, need. It was as if they had this magnetic force that was driving you towards him, like it was your achellies heel.

Harrison and you were slowly moving towards one another, that magnetic force too obvious to deny. “Can... can I kiss you?” Harrison whispered so softly that you almost missed it.

You two were so close that the words ghosted your skin as you nodded softly, leaning in to lock your lips together. The kiss was something you had never experienced before. It was slow and passionate, displaying words of affection you had no idea how to express. It was as if someone had lit the beginning end of a sparkler in the darkest of July evenings. A spark that you and Harrison couldn’t deny much longer.

You broke away slightly from the mesmerizing kiss to catch your breath. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” Harrison breathed out a chuckle, resting his forehead on yours. “That was...”

“Amazing,” you finished, eyes fleeting back to his, and you felt your heart soften and swell at his gaze.

“(Y/n), I can’t let you leave without asking to see you again,” Harrison confessed. “I don’t know what it is, but I have this feeling that you’re... I don’t know... supposed to be in my life.”

You twisted your face slightly in confusion at his words, but the soft expression never left it. “Hmm, how so?”

Harrison sighed as he gazed into your (y/e/c) orbs. “I’m not sure, but I feel this attraction to you, and I’m afraid if I let you go, I’ll lose you for good. And, I don’t want to lose that... this.”

His hand slowly came up to your face and caressed your cheek, feeling the warmth of your face in his hand. “To be honest, me either,” you reply. “It’s crazy though, we barely know each other, but I feel like it’s...”

“Fate,” Harrison finished, leaning in to give a full, passionate kiss to your lips.

In that kiss, you felt all your emotions burst out of your safety bubble. This was someone who you had just met, but it feels like you’ve known him your whole life. It was crazy the effect Harrison had on you, even from the first glance. He was your safe space, and your taste of adventure, and it was something you didn’t want to let go of, in this little club in the streets of London. This little safe haven.

tagged: @hazssouthernbelle

[thewritewolf]

Eating Habits Chapter 13: Bliss

The semester is passing by quickly as Adrien and Marinette live happily together, supporting each other in everything they do. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Her feet aching from the long week of classes fresh out of winter break, Marinette shambled up the stairs and blearily stood in front of the door to her shared home. Her faint hope that it would open on its own extinguished. A few long moments passed before she worked up the energy to open the door, slowly lifting her tired arms as if every centimeter of movement was an absolute chore.

As she stepped into the apartment, she was vaguely aware of the meat and vegetables sitting out on the kitchen counter, but much more important was the mop of blonde hair and the strong back poking out from behind the couch. At the sound of the door closing, Adrien looked behind him with an expression that started off curious before lighting up with a bright smile.

“Bugaboo! Amazing timing as usual, I was just about to get up and-” He was cut off as she plopped onto the couch, resting her head on his lap as she curled up into a more comfortable position, “-and make dinner, but I guess we can sit here for a little while.” Picking up the remote, he turned down the volume of the show on the television. “Wanna talk about it?”

She groaned and reached out her hand, groping around until she found his. Dragging her prize, she dropped his hand onto the back of her head.

Adrien laughed, a sound that was already soothing her aching muscles. His hands began playing with her hair and she sighed in satisfaction. “Poor tired bug. I can’t imagine just sewing and studying all day make you this tuckered out. Did you go to the gym after classes too? I keep telling you that you have to start smaller.”

Marinette was too tired to contribute much to the conversation, but just having him there, listening to him, feeling his touch on her, was doing wonders for her. It was just as heavy a burden she was carrying as last semester. But with him here? It felt so much lighter. She didn’t feel as though she were falling apart at the seams any more.

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

Adrien turned off the television and ran his fingers through his hair. His shift at the bakery had ended hours ago, leaving him waiting for Marinette to get back from school. The grumbling of his stomach got louder as he glanced back at the untouched selection of ingredients he’d assembled on the kitchen counter. He didn’t really want to start cooking until she got back.

After all, the time she got home each day was pretty arbitrary. Weeks into the semester and he still struggled to keep track of all her commitments, between student organizations, classes, study groups, and extra design work time. Yet another skill his coddled early years had deprived him of.

He sighed and opened the door to their balcony. The chill of winter was receding fast and the late March night was surprisingly warm. Leaning against the railing, he took a deep breath of the fresh air and stared out into the glimmering lights of the Parisian night.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Adrien jolted, but quickly relaxed when Ladybug landed beside him. His sly smirk was undercut by the soft blush he could already feel spreading across his cheeks. “Yes, you are.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I didn’t know the great hero Ladybug made house calls?”

“She’s been known to make an exception for her favorite civilians.” She smiled teasingly as she closed the distance between them, their faces centimeters apart. “Or at least, the particularly handsome ones.”

“Don’t let Chat Noir hear that,” he whispered into her ear. “I hear he’s the jealous type.” His arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him.

“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll mind what I’ve got planned for you tonight,” she said, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips.

“And what do you have planned, hm?”

“You’re about to find out.” Suddenly, she had one arm wrapped around him and with the other pulled out her yo-yo. Before he knew it, he was sailing over Paris and latching onto her. Despite the speed and the heights, he wasn’t afraid. Not just because he’d done this plenty of times as Chat before, but because he had absolute faith in her. She would never let him down - literally, in this case.

Before long, they had landed on the rooftop of a building that stood a story taller than the ones around it. Still holding onto his tiny, superpowered girlfriend, he looked around. His eyes widened when he saw the candlelit dinner with boxed chinese food, a single rose in a vase completing the scene.

His heart melted, but a thought caused him to fall into a giggle fit.

“What’s so funny, oh handsome civilian who is on the fast track to the couch tonight?”

He bit down on his lower lip and looked at her with eyes that glimmered with mirth. “I was just thinking… if I told fourteen year old Adrien that this was happening - that Ladybug made a romantic dinner just for us - I know that either his heart would explode from happiness or he just wouldn’t believe me.”

The annoyance in her eyes melted away, replaced with gentle love. She rocked forward on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek.

“Better believe it, sunshine. You aren’t the only one that knows their way around romance. And I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

He took her hand and held it between his. There were so many things that he wanted to say to her, but he just couldn’t find the words. Instead, he simply whispered, “I know.”

She seemed to understand as she slowly walked away and towards the dinner she had set. She pulled out his seat for him. Laughing, he sat down.

“Such a gentleman!”

She rolled her eyes with a smile and took the seat opposite him. They chatted while they ate, filling each other in on what they’d been doing that day. The food was wonderful and even if he hadn’t seen the logo on the boxes, he would have known it just from the taste. The Chinese restaurant was a favorite of theirs when they went on casual dates. Marinette’s mom was friends with the owners, and they’d all gone as a family plenty of times during the years he’d dated Marinette.

Adrien trailed off in the middle of explaining one customer’s particularly strange order when he heard music filtering up from the building below them. He glanced back at Ladybug, who was smugly watching him.

“...Are we above a symphony’s practice studio?”

“Mhm,” she hummed in confirmation.

Deciding she was being far too smug for her own good, he stood up, offering her his hand as he rose from a bow. “Would you do me the honor of a dance, my lady?”

Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks and she flailed her arms around her face. “Adrien, you know I can’t-”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. His other hand found its familiar spot on her lower back as he held her close to himself. He smiled down at her as she looked up at him, stunned for a moment. He decided in that moment, as he had many times before, that love was a good look on her.

As they settled into their dance, Adrien nuzzled against the top of her head as they twirled in gentle circles across the rooftop. He breathed deep, letting her scent - strawberries and cookies and a hundred other sweet things - fill him and bring peace to his weary spirit.

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

Adrien finished his story and took a sip of his coffee, made exactly how he liked it. The cafe they’d chosen was quickly becoming a favorite and not only because it was right between their current living spaces.

Nino chuckled and shook his head. “Geez, dude. You two are made for each other, no doubt about it.”

“Jealous of our romance, bro?”

“Not a chance. Me and Alya are doing just fine with our chill love. But you two? With your over the top declarations of love? You two got each other to save everyone else from the sickeningly sick vibes and plots.”

“Hm…” Adrien put his chin in his hand, propped up on the table. Tapping his cheek he gave it some thought before nodding. “Definitely jealous then.” Nino scoffed. “Hey, you should have said something sooner! I’m sure Marinette wouldn’t mind if I brought you up to a rooftop for a candlelit dinner. Just so you could see what it’s like.”

Nino covered his face in his hands, but couldn’t hide the laughter bubbling out of him. “Yeah sure, dude. I’m just saying - you two tend to go crazy with romance, so it works out nice that you ended up with each other.”

“It’s way better than nice, man.” Adrien smiled with what he knew was a dopey grin - knew, but didn’t care. “Being with her - living with her - is a dream come true.”

“I figured it would be. I’m psyched for you guys - both of you are loads better when you’re not by yourselves, so it makes a ton of sense for you to move in.”

“What about you and Alya?”

Nino laughed. “After years of being stuck in crowded apartments with tons of siblings, we’re actually enjoying the space apart. But,” he said, grinning at his coffee, “after seeing what you and M have, I’m starting to like the idea more and more.” He made a dismissive gesture and leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back. “But that’s a while down the road. We’re supes happy with our set up right now.”

“I’m happy for you, man,” Adrien said softly. He took another long sip of drink, letting his mind wander. “Things are looking up, aren’t they?”

“They sure are, my bro.” Nino raised his coffee toward Adrien and they clinked their cups in a toast. “They sure are.” Nino took a quick gulp and leaned forward. “What else has been going down? I bet you’ve got a lotta sappy stories now that you two are together every day, so spill.”

They talked for another hour, exchanging stories about their girlfriends, about working with Jagged Stone, about the crazy customers the bakery had seen. He was glad they had managed to sneak in this time to hang out together, despite how busy both of them were. Adrien would always treasure Nino’s friendship, the first real friend he had made at school - his first, and his best.

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

Marinette stretched, reaching her hands far above her head as she worked out the aches from sitting still for so long. The dress in front of her was almost finished, but she needed to take a break before she could continue. If Adrien weren’t working at the bakery for the weekend, he’d have approved.

Her stretch brought her to her feet and then her toes, which then turned into wiggling her hips vaguely in time with the music that was filling the apartment. It felt liberating, dancing in her spotted pajamas in an old black t-shirt she’d stolen from Adrien years ago, hair hanging free. She was making great progress with that commission and she knew it. The dress could wait a few minutes while she had a little fun.

Sure, it was already the middle of April and the spring show was getting closer, but even that didn’t bother her. Speaking of, she was supposed to get a letter soon concerning how many front row tickets she’d be reserving for friends and family. After giving it a moment’s consideration, she opted to just head down to the mail room as she was. Who cares if someone saw her in her pajamas?

The song stayed in her head and she hummed along to it as she quickly went down the stairs. She grabbed the mail and started leafing through it as she returned the way she came. Her eyes widened just as she reached the door, hand hesitating at the door knob when she recognized the writing on one of the letters.

The surprise evaporated under a withering tide of anger. She knew what she’d read if she opened the letter - excuses, protests, and blame directed at Adrien. Of all the limited talents that Gabriel possesed, self-reflection was not among them.

She shoved it roughly in the basket with the rest of his letters, only barely resisting tossing it in the trash. As she changed her playlist to something a little more energetic to help her blow off steam, she decided that Adrien didn’t need to know he had gotten any mail at all today.

And everyone would be happier for it.

[nuage-s-den]

Have you ever heard “for you” by tonight alive? it’s pretty sappy, but it has such strong birdflash vibes “for you I would fly without wings/and for you I would run like the sun chases the moon”

I must admit, this is the first piece I’ve written that feels fluid for a long time. Thank you for sending me a song, it is a lovely one (definitely screams Birdflash, haha!). For everyone else who’s sent a request, I swear I am still slowly working on them, and I promise you’ll get a little something as well. :) 

Birdflash drabble #4 - A little more than best friends

No warnings aside from the risk of cavities… Ah, and no beta’d and written by a messy non-English writer hahaha.

     It started as a simple conversation, a simple idea Donna threw in the air and that the team picked on. With the summer holiday coming to an end and the first day of school approaching fast, the five friends decided to have one last evening of fun before getting dragged back to the dull yet stressful routine that came with every Septembers. Sitting at the terrace of their favourite cafe, each shared their desires. Garth suggested going to the lake now that most tourists were gone, Roy was fine with anything as long as he could bring his itty bitty daughter. Wally wasn’t very picky, unlike when they organized outings that were related to restaurants. Dick mentioned wanting to make a bond fire, and Donna only wanted to go someplace where she could expand her portfolio by taking pictures of the scenery.

“Alright so let me just summarize what we have so far.” She had kept track of everyone’s wishes by scribbling down on a napkin. “We are looking to go somewhere with a place to swim, somewhere that’s safe for little Lian and where it is okay to make a fire.” Her friends nodded.

“Wally doesn’t care as long as we bring enough food for his bottomless stomach.” Dick, the youngest of the team, snickered before he and his best friend began a playful “poke war.”

Donna gently tapped her bottom lip with the end of her pen as she thought of a place that could satisfy everyone.  "Oh.“ Her eyes light up. “How about we go to the Moonstone river? I went there once with my photography class. Granted, it is a bit of a treck to get there, but it fits pretty much everyone’s request. And we could camp for the night.” Donna watched as her friends thought about it and seemed to agree on her proposal. With a smile, she announced: “Then it’s decided! We will meet early on Thursday and spend the night there.” Each rose their drink and cheered.

     It was already sunny when the group met at the entrance of the provincial park. Dick was the first on sight when Donna and Garth arrived. Roy followed shortly; his daughter held his hand and hopped as she played imaginary hopscotch. As always, Wally was the last one to get there and was shy of being half an hour late. Funnily enough, Lian was the one to scold him for taking so long.

The walk up to the river took the group two hours to complete, which was relatively fast seeing how often they had to stop either because Donna argued she wouldn’t forgive them if they didn’t let her take that one perfect shot of birds and wildflowers, or to entertain the toddler who occasionally got tired of walking. With Lian riding his back, Wally became her private “horsey” and was ordered to run up the slope as fast as he could.

“You’re slow, West.” Of course, Dick had to tease him. And of course, Wally took it as a challenge. The two began to walk with long strides, teasing the other when one gained some distance. The rest of the group watched them hurry, shaking their heads as they were used to their silly shenanigans.  Once they reached the top, Wally and Dick were out of breath with Wally sitting down and Dick leaning on his knees.

     As expected, the provincial park’s river was beautiful. The water trickled down the rocks and reflected the sun; it was surprisingly not too cold to the touch. A few people had already claimed some spots around the water, but it was relatively calm, and the group didn’t have trouble finding their perfect place to camp. Putting their backpacks down, Garth and Wally hurriedly undressed and jumped into the water with Wally immediately regretting it. “It’s cold!”Meanwhile, Roy helped his daughter take out her clothes and gently applied sunscreen to her sensitive skin. The young father talked with his child, a relaxed and fond look softening his face. Dick watched them from afar, smiling and remembering how his father used to speak to him with a similar expression before passing away. At the same time, Donna was already taking pictures of everyone. She always said that the best photos were taken au naturel. A big, wet golden retriever whose smile could melt the iciest hearts ran up to her to greet her while ignoring his owner’s calls.  

“A puppy!” Not even after a blink, Wally was next to her on the floor and hugging, kissing the wet dog. “Who’s a good boy? What’s your name? Where do you come from? Are you having fun?” He talked with a high pitch voice which caused the dog to wag its tail even harder. “Donna! Donna! You better immortalize this beautiful creature with your super photographing skills!” Ah yes, Wally sure loved dogs. But his canine friend noticed someone else and without a goodbye, ran past him to jump on another unexpected victim. Dick was halfway into the water, showing off his ricochet skills to Lian,  when the golden retriever jumped next to him, making a splash big enough to soak him entirely. There was a couple of laughs as the teenager’s cheeks turned a little pink.

     When the evening came, the sun began its journey to the west, leaving the sky like a palette of pink and blue. Most of the people had left earlier, and eventually, the team had to say goodbye to Mr. Snufflekins the golden retriever who had “helped” them collect enough wood to start their fire. Once it was big enough, the five friends began to prepare their meal: hot dogs cooked over the fire and roasted marshmallows. Because most of them had a competitive nature, they decided to make the marshmallow prepping a contest; the person who made a marshmallow with a delicate crust on the outside, but still soft in the inside would be crowned king or queen of the fire. And because the truth always comes out of a children’s mouth, Lian was designed as the judge for the contest. Carefully, she took a bite of each marshmallow, looking as if she was degusting them with the taste bud of a real chef. Finally, she proclaimed her overly burnt entry as the winner and no one dared challenge her choice. Laughter and horrible singing attempts filled the silence of the night. Garth was the first one to fall asleep, hugging an empty backpack and a kid playing with his hair. Wally dared Roy to draw on his face but was disappointed when he learned of the lack of marker.

     When dawn came, Dick was still awake. Sitting with his arms loosely hugging his knees, he watched as the moon and the stars shared the sky with the rising sun. The trickle of the river along with the melody of the songbirds made everything so peaceful. Most of his friends were still asleep, having consumed too much food, energy and, yes, a couple of beers. Someone sat next to him, yawning loudly and stretching. “What are you doing up so early? I thought you were a night owl?” Wally asked as he followed the younger man’s gaze.

“And miss this?” Dick grinned, listening as Wally hummed next to him. They remained like this for a while, comfortable with the silence that settled between them.

“You know, I think I might have a little too much to drink yesterday.”

Wally turned his head toward his best friend. There was a slight tint of pink on his face. “Yeah?” Dick’s smile was soft, and Wally felt as if his blue eyes had captured the stars and the moon for they were shining with something magical. Wally felt drawn to him; his hand moved to gently cup his best friend’s cheek without him realizing. Dick’s skin felt cool to the touch, and Wally could feel him accept the touch as he pressed against his palm. Something was happening, he told himself. There was a spark in his eyes, a zing in his heart. It was just like any cliche movies described it, and Wally wondered if Dick was feeling the same thing.

As if Nature was encouraging him, Wally leaned a little closer as the breeze gently pushed his back. There was a moment of hesitation as if neither boys knew what they were doing. “Dude, can I…” Wally started. For once he felt at a loss of words. Dick’s hand rested over his as he nodded. Shortly after, their lips were sealed, and their arms moved so they could embrace each other tenderly. The moment only lasted for seconds, but to them, it felt like a lifetime.

“I guess that makes us something a little more than best friends,” Dick said, his voice a little unsure. Wally gently lowered him to the ground, holding him as if he was a porcelain doll who could break with any sudden movement.

“Who said we can’t be best friends and something a little more?”

[raechelpapaya]

1, 4, 11, and 14 for all of them!

Aaaaaaa thank!!

1. What is their favourite food?

— Serena looooves desserts. She’s big on pastries and sweets and her favorites are cream puffs, which is just a soft and airy pastry bread thing filled with really sweet whip cream. She also really likes when the cream puff is topped with chocolate sauce and powdered sugar.

— Marth, being a noble, has a lot of easy access to expensive and high quality delicious food. But, he’s a simple and sappy boy and he loves his mother’s home cooking (on the rare times she cooks). He comes home every now and then to visit his parents (and to eat mom’s home cooking).

— Nate likes beef stew. It reminds him of his childhood when he and Serena would have their magic lessons from her dad and they would get rewarded with her mom’s fresh cooked beef stew for dinner once all their training is done. (Don’t tell anyone but Nate loves Serena’s beef stew the best)

— Rin, being the kind of guy who is regularly on the move, so he likes food that can be carried around with ease. And so, he’s quite fond of meat skewers. It helps that he also likes eating meat as well. You can often catch him wandering around town with a meat skewer in hand.

4. Do they like cuddling?

— Serena loves cuddling. She’s always down for cuddling. She’s pretty touch starved too, so her favorite kind of cuddling is when she’s on the bottom and the person she’s cuddling is just laying on top of her. She likes when her cuddle partner uses her as a pillow, it’s such a great feeling. She really loves running her fingers through her partner’s hair and falling asleep with them. Unfortunately, with her partner usually sleeping on top of her, she has woken up to drool on her.

— Marth quite likes physical touch, things like holding your hand or carding his fingers through your hair or caressing your cheek. However, he hadn’t even considered cuddling with you. When you introduce cuddling with him, he is smitten. It’s especially wonderful for him to cuddle with you after a long day of work. He usually prefers to be the big spoon but doesn’t mind being the small spoon every now and then, but he quite likes any position where he can see your face.

— Nate is actually a cuddle monster. He loves physical touch and being physically close to others. Even doing mundane things, he loves to hold your hand or lean on you or have you lean on him. He’ll pull you into his lap while he’s reading and wrap his arms around you. He loves to hold you close and rest his chin on your shoulder when you sit on his lap. It gives him an easy way to kiss the side of your neck or nuzzle his nose against your cheek or whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He just really loves being close to you.

— Rin would rather die than admit to you that he likes cuddling. He has a bad boy vibe that he’s created for himself! He can’t just let that image crumble by telling you that he loves being the little spoon! Nah, but all joking aside, Rin is quite fond of cuddling. He cuddles often with his little sisters when he reads them bedtime stories but other than that? This guy is touch starved. Please just hug him or something he literally cries inside when someone touches his shoulder.

11. Do they believe in luck?

— Serena does, but she also genuinely believes that she just has terrible luck overall. So when something goes her way she is just always surprised.

— Marth does not believe in luck when it comes to certain things. He’s more of a believer of hard work, dedication, and blood and sweat and tears.

— Nate kind of believes in luck, in things like small things. Like finding the last copy of a book he wanted in the store (before restock), finding out his class assignments are due next week and not this week. Things like that.

— Rin does not believe in luck. He’s a karma kind of person and firmly believes something bad will happen to him because he did something to deserve it.

14. What is a pet peeve of theirs?

— Serena hates that high pitched squeaky sound you get when you rub two smooth surfaces together. You know, like when you rub styrofoam together? She hates it so much. Makes a chill run up her spine and gives her the urge to vomit.

— Marth hates when people talk with their mouth full. It’s rude and he can’t understand yoh when you’re talking around half chewed steak! Just finish eating and swallow or voice your thoughts before eating! It’s not that hard!

— Nate really hates it when people walk in large groups and walk really slowly. You know when you really have somewhere to go and you’re trying to pass this group but they take up the whole goddamn sidewalk and snails move faster than them? Ugh he hates it.

— Rin gets pretty upset when it comes to lying. He’s pretty incredible at catching people when they’re lying and he really hates when people lie to him, especially over stupid minor things. Don’t dance around his feelings, just tell him if something is bugging you or if there’s something you don’t like. He’ll respect you more for your honesty.

[accio-ambition]

Here we are: the last official chapter of this story. There will be an epilogue posted next week, and there are a few one shots I need to finish writing in this universe, but for most intents and purposes, this is the end. I'll post a whole sappy thing with the epilogue next time, but I wanted to get this out there so you could prepare yourselves or your souls or something.

As I've said since the beginning, many many thanks to @sotheylived, @shipsxahoy, @queen-icicle-fandom, and @captainswanbigbang for all of the various and insundry things they've done during this whole process. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations

FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset/Manip

Chapter Twenty-Two

For a second year in a row, Christmas is celebrated with Killian. It’s bittersweet, of course, this being the first Christmas in his life without his big brother, but Emma likes to think she and Henry are doing their best to fill Liam’s shoes. Henry is thrilled that Killian decides to spend Christmas Eve with them at their house, jumping on Killian instead of Emma in the excitement of Christmas morning.

Christmas dinner is a surprisingly lively affair. David and Mary Margaret join them, as well as Belle and her father. There’s laughter and tears, heartfelt toasts and frequent disruptions for bad jokes. When she crawls in her bed and Killian slides his arm around her waist that night, he whispers, “thank you” in her ear, so she must have done something right.

A few days before New Year’s, Robin invites the three of them to meet baby Roxana. The pictures he’s sent both of them prove that she’s cute as a button, but they’ve yet to meet this new addition in person with all that’s been going on in the last couple of months. Emma knows that there’s a lot of frustration, annoyance, and fatigue behind every one of them. A new baby is a far stretched from a walk in the park. She can only imagine how hard it is to balance a newborn with Roland the exuberant child that he is and without Robin currently being employed.

They’re all unemployed, technically. With no trawlers to their name and the crew members who would take over as captain still on the mend, the Jones brothers’ trawling company has come to a sudden halt. They’ll still have whatever money comes from the show, but the future is just a little more uncertain.

But in the meantime, Henry is having a ball playing a new board game with Roland and Regina while Emma, Killian, and Robin crowd around the sleeping baby, curled up in Emma’s arms.

“I always forget how small new babies are,” she murmurs, leaning down to slyly smell Roxana’s head. She remembers the first couple of months after Henry was born. He always had the scent of cleanliness and newness, something she clung to on the nights they were sleeping in her car.

“I’ve got to give it to you, mate,” Killian says, relaxing into the couch, his stunted arm casually slung over the couch behind her. “You two make some cute kids.”

“Cute and loud,” Robin says with a sigh. “Regina wanted you to come over just so she could spend some time with Roland, maybe convince him into taking a nap with her.”

“Oh,” Emma says, looking up and across the room to where Robin stood. “If you had told me that, I would’ve left Henry at Granny’s. He could’ve come and visited another day.”

But Robin’s already shaking his head. “No, Roland’s been cooped up in here with us for a couple of days,” he tells her. “We’ve been too tired to take him anywhere. It’s good for him to have someone to play with that isn’t us.”

That gets laughter out of all of them, softer from Emma so as not to wake the baby. From the other room, Roland starts calling for his father, asking him to come and be on his team for the next game. Robin sighs.

“Go ahead,” Emma encourages him with a smile. “She’s sleeping. Go tell Roland how good of an older brother he’s being.”

With a nod, Robin takes his leave. Emma watches him leave before turning back to the sleeping child, running her fingers slowly up and down her stomach. Roxana inhales deeply, her stomach expanding with the action, and sighs happily.

Glancing over to her side, she sees Killian staring down at the baby, a sweet expression on his face.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asks. His eyes go wide and he vehemently shakes his head. Tilting her head in confusion, Emma adds, “Why?”

Behind her, he holds up his handless arm. “I can’t,” he says simply. “I’d be afraid to drop her.”

Emma scoffs. “Please. You have arms and she’s surprisingly resilient.” His teeth bite into his lower lips, a show of nerves at a level she doesn’t think she’s ever seen on him. And then a thought occurs to her. “Killian, have you ever held a baby?”

He shakes his head, embarrassed. “Haven’t really been around them this young,” he says. “Roland was already walking when I met him for the first time.”

Rolling her eyes, she uses the hand not holding Roxana to position his arms in front of him, making a cradle. “All you really need to do is support her head,” she explains. “Just make sure her head stays in your elbow and she’ll be fine.”

With rusty but practiced ease, Emma transfers the baby into Killian’s hold, his shoulders tense at first until Roxana settles down. She stays asleep the whole time, her little lips smacking together as she turns her head into his chest. Killian chuckles in disbelief, his eyes rising to look at her. Emma smiles in turn, leaning her head up against his shoulder.

“See?” she whispers. “Not so scary.”

And, as Emma watches him interact with the baby, she begins to realize that this moment means a lot more than just holding their friend’s child for the first time. Since coming home from the hospital, he’s fought with himself over the loss, not only of his brother, but of his own hand. She’s heard whimpers of pain a couple of times, seen him rub at the scars more often than that, and she assumes that he’s got phantom pains by the way he sometimes glances at his wrist. Try as she might, she knows that everything she does to assure him that he’s still the same snarky scallywag that he was - touching his stump as if his hand were still there, kissing his cheek and brushing his hair away when he feels the pain during sleep - it doesn’t really get to the root of the problem.

But here, holding little Roxana, she can see his psyche knitting itself back together. That, yeah, he can hold babies and make dinner and eventually sail a ship again and everything a normal man can do besides clap his hands together. He just needs to learn how to do it differently. Life goes on with him in it, and he might as well thrive.

(She’ll never tell him that she saw this coming. That she knew this is the exactly type of thing he needed. That she texted Robin, asking if it was okay to come over because Killian needed to get out of the house, needed something to brighten these gray winter days. He needed something to anchor himself, to give him hope in the future.)

“You’re a precious little lass, aren’t you?” he asks the baby quietly, totally entranced, allowing her small fingers to wrap around his pointer finger.

(For the briefest of moments, Emma lets the idea of Killian holding his own child, rocking them to and fro in order to soothe them on stormy nights, consume her.

And maybe the baby has her chin and his eyes, but that’s where that fantasy ends.)

(Yeah, he’s going to be fine.)

0000

Though he’s too stubborn to meet any sort of professional in the wake of the wreck, Killian does start opening up to her whenever something concerns him. Emma’s heard the story of the night of the wreck multiple times, each telling adding a little more detail.

She acts as his sponge, soaking up all this information and cleaning up the mess in his mind. But she never gets squeezed out. It’s not like she can tell anyone else about it - it’s certainly not her secret to tell. So she keeps it all bottled up because if it’s off Killian’s shoulders, then what does it matter? At least he’s healing.

But the sponge loses its ability to soak up information, calls it quits when Jefferson convenes the crew of Sea of Chaos at his house for an announcement. The second season airs in a couple days, and Emma hopes beyond hope that maybe - just maybe - Sea of Chaos will go on. Even she and David, Jeff’s top confidantes in this matter since the beginning, have no clue as to what this meeting could be about.

The whole event has a different vibe than any of the other ones. From the get-go, it’s more solemn, which, when Emma thinks it over, makes sense. In the past two years, they’ve lost three crew members and both their ships. The two crews have been condensed to one, and everyone - from their surviving captain to the on-shore help - has lost a fraction of their livelihood.

It took some haranguing to get Killian to agree to coming. Emma promised him to stay by his side for the duration, as if she would be anywhere else these days.

(But she fought back equally.

“You need to get out of the house, Killian,” she reminded him. “Sitting in here and moping isn’t good for anyone.”

“I’ve gotten out of the house,” he countered, pointing toward the front door. “We visited Robin and Regina. We went to your house for crew dinner just the other night.”

Emma groaned, rubbing her hands across her face. “You know that doesn’t count, you ass.”)

But there she is, by his side as promised, her hand wrapped around his elbow as Jefferson steps up on to his coffee table.

“Are you sure you haven’t a clue what’s going on?” Killian whispers to her, leaning down so his lips brush against her ear. The motion sends shivers down her spine, a smile rising on her lips as she shies away.

“No idea.”

Jefferson clears his throat. The crowd gathered, already quieter than normal, comes to complete silence.

“Due to recent events, the network has decided Sea of Chaos will take a hiatus,” he announces. It’s not like she hadn’t seen it coming, but Emma still feels her heart break a little bit. So much of her life these days she can attribute to this show. It seems like ages ago - Killian rushing out of Granny’s to help Liam alert the appropriate people as to their decision. She and Liam talking on the phone after arguing with Killian. It hasn’t been that long in reality, only about two months or so, since...well, since most everything changed.

“They have expressed interest in a third season,” Jefferson continues, looking each person in the crowd before him in the eye. “It would be shortened by half and we’d start filming next trawling season. At Killian’s behest,” he points to Killian, who blushes, nods, and gives a solemn wave to all the people who glance over at him, “we’re going to put it off indefinitely.”

Over the din of the crowd’s groan, Emma turns on him and glares. “You knew about this?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t know he was going to tell everyone like this,” he whispers. “I merely told him I thought it would be in everyone’s best interests if we didn’t go on.” Next to them, little Roxana begins to fuss in Robin’s arms. Killian, probably anxious to get out of the spotlight, silently offers to calm her down and take the baby out of the room. Robin, being the tired parent of a newborn, gladly accepts the help. With a bounce in his step, Killian leaves.

“Now, now, that’s not the right sentiment,” Jefferson chides everyone. “The network has high hopes for syndication and if Captain Killian out there changes his mind, you all will  be my first calls.”

Even to Emma’s ears, that sounds like a good deal. And she has enough faith in Jeff to hold him accountable to his word, even if she doesn’t see Killian changing his mind at all. He no longer has to sleep facing away from the harbor, but it’s taken longer for him to stroll along the piers, let alone get on or in the water.

“So, as this is our last time together for a while,” Jefferson concludes, arms wide and inviting, “let us drink and be merry.”

Weak cheers come from the crowd as conversations break out and the get together tries to rebound from the somberness of their producer’s announcement. Jefferson claps his hands as everything kind of returns to normal before hopping off the table and approaching Emma.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” she sarcastically greets him.

Jefferson nods, his lips curling around his teeth and his steepled hands coming up to his mouth. “Emma Swan, I’m going to be straight with you,” he says quietly. Furrowing her brows, Emma steps closer, concern and curiosity getting the better of her.

“They want to film this,” he says carefully.

Confused, Emma shakes her head because her friend’s not making sense. “Film what?” she inquires.

“The aftermath.” His eyes flit over her shoulder and out to the other room, where she knows Killian took the baby. “The mounted cameras got some footage before the Jolly Roger went down, the network could easily get something from the hospital.” He pauses, letting Emma come to the conclusion on her own. “Viewers would eat this story up, you know that.”

“Story?” It’s not like she didn’t hear him the first time: she just can’t believe that any human being would even contemplate the idea of doing what Jefferson is suggesting. Emma looks over her shoulder to make sure Killian isn’t coming back. “Jeff, this is Killian. Your friend,” she whispers harshly. “His older brother died. Liam was the only family he ever had. He can barely look at the water, let alone get on a ship!”

“But…” Emma puts on her fiercest glare, one she imagine would adorn her face if Henry got arrested or if he came to tell her he accidentally got a girl pregnant. It’s scathing, giving her the inklings of a headache. Jeff sighs, relenting for the moment. “Would you at least ask him if he’d consider it?”

“No!” Insulting by the idea, Emma steps away with frustration before whirling back on him and pointing. “If you want him to do it, ask him yourself.” And then she shakes her head because that is an even stupider-as-shit idea. “Actually, don’t. He’s not doing it, Jefferson. Tell the network to shove it up their asses. Killian is a human being. A hurting and healing one, at that.”

Jefferson starts to interrupt her. She cuts him off. “No. No filming if and until there’s another season and, as you said, that’s Killian’s decision.” With a sharp wave of her hand, Emma dismisses him. “Go.”

Proverbially tail between his legs, Jeff nods and goes off to play host for the rest of the party, leaving Emma to bite her lip and wonder if she did the right thing. It is Killian’s life, but she’s gone on and decided on a part - a pretty significant part - of his future without consultation.

(She doesn’t have the right to do that, wouldn’t want somebody doing the same if the tables turned. Except for maybe Killian. Maybe.)

(Oh god, she’s in deep.)

The sound of the door opening behind her breaks Emma from her reverie. She turns to see Killian coming back into the room, handing a napping Roxana off to her father. Spotting her, he sends a small smile her way and comes up to her, his arm curling around her shoulders.

“Did I miss anything important?” he asks.

Emma opens her mouth, but pauses before saying anything. If she lies, he’ll never have to even know that pigs like the network executives and, to an extent, Jefferson himself exist. It’s not just her maternal instincts kicking in - she knows if this were Henry’s future, she wouldn’t tell him at all. Killian’s a grown man, owns a house and had a business, but she feels the strong need to protect him from the worst in life, especially after so much has happened in such a short timespan.

But then, she thinks back to how disappointed and upset he was when he found out she was looking for jobs without telling him. He’s still healing, still just getting back to some sense of normalcy. Now is certainly not the time to get into another argument like that. And that’s the more important factor in this situation.

So she settles on answering him honestly. “Apparently, the execs wanted a third season or a special or something,” Emma explains in a breath.

Raising an eyebrow, Killian says, “But we don’t have any boats.”

“They wanted this.” She gestures around them, then directly at his chest. “They’ve apparently got some footage from the hospital, from the Jolly Roger on that night.” Closing her eyes, Emma plays with a loose strand of hair. “They want to exploit you and the rest of the crew after losing Liam for money.”

“Excuse me?”

But she’s already shaking her head, her hands on his shoulders, sponging up any information and psychological trauma that might bubble up. “Don’t worry, I told him no,” she tells him.

“Swan.” There’s an undertone in his voice that makes her doubt her decision, but she pushes it away stubbornly.

“No, you are not arguing about this with me. It’s not right,” she says. “It’s not good form, right? I’m not going to let them punch you one last time just to make a quick dollar. Mulan and August and Robin and Scarlet, you all deserve better than that.” Letting her hands drag down his arms to entwine the one with his fingers and wrap the other around his stump, Emma smiles up at him. “No one moreso than you.”

His hand squeezes hers and he tugs her into his chest. He leans down as she presses up and throws her arms around his neck. “If it isn’t too wrong to say so,” he murmurs, swinging them back and forth a bit, “you are quite beguiling when you’re defending me.”

Emma rolls her eyes and pulls back a fraction. “Killian,” she moans playfully.

“The beautiful Emma Swan,” he chuckles lovingly. “My savior.”

She bites at her bottom lip before nervously asking, “So it’s okay that I prevented you and the rest of the crew from profiting off of your grief?”

“Swan, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”  Killian laughs again at her astonished expression, leaning to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’ve been making my decisions for me for the last two years, whether you knew it or not.”

“Huh.”

When she doesn’t answer further, Killian licks his lips in anticipation. “Does that make you feel powerful?” he asks. “Knowing you hold a man’s heart in the palm of your hand?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. She barks out a laugh before catching herself and matching his gaze. “I kind of like it,” she admits. “Is that bad?”

“Far from it,” he assures her. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in long while, love.” Killian’s smile lights up the room, wide and bright, just like the smile she felt herself falling in love with all those months ago.

Slowly but surely, Killian begins pulling her toward the edge of the room. More specifically, toward the door he’d disappeared behind with Roxana not too long ago. The door, she knows, that leads to the mudroom, which leads out of the house all together. “Do you think the lad could fend for himself tonight?” he asks conspiratorially. “I’d like to take you home and,” he pauses before allowing a smirk to take over his face, “thank you. Properly.”

She catches up to him and wraps her arms around him, backing him up against the wood of the door. Her hand lingers on the doorknob before gently turning it and nodding toward freedom.

“Take me away, sailor.”

[regulusfilliusinxomine]

Tykath

Over two thousand words written over a couple of days. I wonder if you can tell that I like this pair.

who hogs the duvet: Drakath by a long shot. It’s what he used to doas a child, alone, and with Ty. It doesn’t matter much to Ty, who tends tosleep on top of the sheets through summers and winters. They stick to eachother so closely when they sleep so it hardly makes a difference even though Typokes fun at Drakath for wrapping himself up like an infant.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going: Though Ty does check in withDrakath every once and a while, it’s the Prince who does so every half hour tohour. Most times he will disguise the clinginess with complaints about his ownday or some random comment about how he saw an ugly dog Ty would take a likingtoo. One, it helps him figure out where Ty is since she goes off to doinscrutable things for inscrutable reasons and two, he’s very happy to havesomeone who listens to him seriously and enjoys doing so.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts:While Drakath doescome up with things that have more than just material value, Ty is the one whocan make grand gestures with small items. Or very heartfelt sentiments held inmorbid ideas. I’m iffy on it but I think Ty has an ability that helps herunderstand what people want and if it’s Drakath, he’s a book she’s read backand forth daily. Perhaps she’d splice some plants together and make a weed in hishonor, spreading it everywhere he’d have a little of everything the seedstouch. “And I’ll see you no matter where you are.” Definitely a heart-stopper,that girl. Kind of sappy but Drakath loves that and would admit it into thehands he masks his face with.

who gets up first in the morning: I think Ty is the night owl andmorning curser so it’s Drakath. It’s probably ingrained in his routine, stuckthere from royalty to rags. It’s actually annoying to Drakath, having to getready first while Ty snoozes until noon rolls around or until Drakath whineshard enough. After a while, it’s Drakath that becomes the problem and the reasonfor that is a couple points down.

who suggests new things in bed: By the longest shot, it’s Ty. Sure,Drakath has had a few adventurous rolls on the sheets with some hired help butwould squeal if they tried butt things with him. With Ty, Drakath could be goingabout his day and suddenly freeze, flashing back to the amazing and unthinkable thingsthat happened the night before. Waving a hand in front of his face doesn’twork. Snapping your fingers next to his ears does, since that definitely isn’twhat Ty whispering to him sounds like.

who cries at movies: I am firmly in love with the idea ofDrakath as a tsundere. And even if a movie doesn’t affect him at all, any moviewill affect Ty. Good, bad, so bad that it’s god, Ty is very into the storiesshe reads and watches, I feel. Drakath is the one, leaning on the arm of thesofa, scoffing or cringing at gruesome scenes. The real show for him is Ty onthe edge of her seat, laughing, or sobbing. Sadly, no horror movie has gottenher to hide in his arms (it’s the other way around).

who gives unprompted massages: Ty, all the time. She loves havingher hands on her favorite person and boy does it make Drakath feel his best.Though when he’s down and doesn’t notice, Ty giving his shoulders a squeezehelps him come back. Well, he’s tried but he gets embarrassed. Plus, it’s whatservant’s do! Except Ty. She’s the exception to everything, which means shegets those rare unprompted massages if she manages to bite down and not commenton it.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick: Drakath by far fusses madly over Tywhen she gets sick. Because she never gets sick. She’s so irritating that evendiseases have come to avoid her. What’s a cold to a vicious monster than canstep on an undead behemoth and not notice? So when Ty does get weakened byillness, it must be serious and Drakath mustbe by her side at all times. Most times, he gets sick himself being closeto Ty. Sure Ty indeed gets worried when Drakath falls ill, especially so whenit’s a particularly bad ailment. But the level of worry matches the level ofseverity. It’s always a code red emergency, all hands on deck, securitymeasures at peak even if Ty has a flu. “You’re in that mud puddle of a town allthe time! If you don’t get sick just from a day there, then this must beserious!” “Drakath, Falconreach isn’t a Pig Sty.”

who gets jealous easiest: An insanely difficult question. Thegeneral feel of them both is that they’d react violently and swiftly whensomeone is on the end of some serious doting by their significant other. Withsmaller infractions however, Drakath would notice and give Ty an earful. Atworst, he attempts to get rid of his competition. On the other hand, Ty doesn’tget uppity over Drakath making small talk. Something very serious and she stillsays nothing but she does everything in her power to destroy her competitionfrom top to bottom. Then again, if she found that Drakath was genuinely happywith someone else, she would bow her head and step back. Not a chance withDrakath. If taken to the extreme, he will do just as bad as Ty. Alright, I mayhave answered the question through rambling on so there you have it.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music: I would have definitely answeredwith Drakath had I not taken a look at the AQ forums way back when. Falerinmade a small post of dialogue to come, that’s still coming actually, andDrakath was looking at a portrait of an ancestor and called him a ‘fop’ basedon his style. So maybe the Prince does have an eye for fads or at least, doesn’tcare for that kind of look. He does seem the type to be snobbish about tastesin a sense. As in “I know what real musicis” and he puts on some classical stuff. I have no idea what Ty enjoys withmusic. Actually, was it jazz? I think it was jazz and jazz is always nice.

who collects something unusual: Not something that immediately hadan answer so I was about to say neither but I remember Ty made sketches. Lotsand lots of sketches, of what was noticeable. Usually things with a heartbeatso everything with some plants. That might count as a collection. To a lesserextent, I think Drakath steals and collects royal heirlooms that get shippedaway from Swordhaven but that’s more of a pride thing than a hobby.

who takes the longest to get ready: Ty wakes up later or way way way later but it’s Drakath that keepsthem stuck inside till the very last minute. She takes half an hour at most tobrush her teeth, brush her hair, and smack on a tiny bit of foundation if it’sa special day. Then, Ty sits down, cracks open a book, maybe fixes a snack andnods every time Drakath runs over to ask her about how he looks.

who is the most tidy and organized: From the looks of it, Drakath. Ty’sroom is a mess of sketches and descriptions to go with them. There aren’tpiles. The room is just flooded. The Prince has the usual strictness expectedfrom someone raised as a noble and Ty’s a slob. But Ty does find things in herroom faster than Drakath can in his. It absolutely mystifies him. Ty’s cheatingthough. I have an inkling that if Ty really wants something, she always has anidea of where it is.

who gets most excited about the holidays: It’s Ty who enjoys holidays, kickingher legs as she sits and things about the sweets that come with thefestivities. If Drakath had to get involved with festivities, it’s too muchwork for something frivolous to him, especially those peasant traditions. He willgo along if Ty is there, since it makes these tedious things somewhat moreenjoyable.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Drakath and Ty monopolize each otherso much that it’s annoying to other people. They hug each other face to facemost times and it’s most comfortable like this. If one goes to sleep earlierthan the other, then the last one in gets the prestige of being the biggerspoon. So almost always Ty.

who gets most competitive when playing gamesand/or sports: They’reboth incredibly competitive, especially when they’re against each other. Tynever goes easy on Drakath unless she’s teaching him something. Even if shedid, Drakath would be furious when he figures out that she let him win. Samevice versa, Ty hardly wins a chess match against Drakath. I wouldn’t think she’dcare until Drakath played against her. I may go with Ty being more competitive,as crazy as it sounds. The reasoning is that Drakath would denounce his loss asa fluke or accuse his opponent of cheating. “Impossible” is one of his favoritewords after all. On Ty’s side, she applies herself immediately, reading up onchess strategies and card game tips.

who starts the most arguments: Drakath loves to fight over anylittle thing and Ty just rolls it off her shoulders, turning all these smallarguments into banter. It’s actually very good that Drakath starts arguments toget problems out into light since I think Ty keeps quiet about things botheringher until she pops. When he gets them out early, there’s more damage control.Otherwise, the bickering is on the light side, even when Ty starts something. Thinksomething, and I’m getting kind of weab-y here, along the lines of the episodeof Shokugeki no Soma when Alice fought with her “dog” after he had a match withSoma and Akira. Darn, I don’t remember any gif posts of that but it had somereal Tykath vibes.

who suggests that they buy a pet: “Drakath, I want to adopt a dog!” “Youalready have Ash!” Joking aside, Ty definitely. I doubt Drakath would like amongrel or a fleabag under the same roof as him. In fact, he might get jealousof pets taking attention away from him. Pffft, Ty throws a ball and Drakathraces with the dog to get it. Pride? Nobility? Comes after beating the dog athis own game, ha! (also a joke).

what couple traditions they have: Hard to think of many but one is anidea that stuck out in my mind for a while. Since Ty is afraid of being in naturalbodies of water, fearing what might lurk underneath innocent waves, she andDrakath hold hands tightly crossing bridges, being on boats, that sort ofthing. Drakath loves it, being the tough guy of the pair.

what tv shows they watch together: Chopped so Ty can actually cookwithout worrying over the fine details and absolutely not Game of Thronesbecause Drakath will get some bad memories lifted up. Joking! But this is kindof hard. Um….something vapid like reality TV because Ty thinks the drama isfunny and Drakath gets a snort out of how peasants live? Otherwise, anythingsince Ty gets engrossed into stories.

what other couple they hang out with: Who would want to be anywhere within20 feet of Drakath? Ty can come but please leave the leech on your neck athome. Speaking seriously, maybe Nythera and her s/o if Drakath plays nice sinceit doesn’t seem like Nythera is that invested in old human history and has agood connection to Ty. Actually, Ryunn and Tomix? Just to see how that’d turnout? I want hijinks!

how they spend time together as a couple: Well, after this splurge of info,what don’t they do as a couple? Going out, staying in, traveling, working, it’shard to pick out specific things that aren’t umbrella terms. They’re enemies,to best friends and lovers. That’s the best way to put it even though I reallywanted to give definitive examples but I feel as though that would simplifythat too much.

who made the first move: If we look to Double Edged, itappears that Ty was the one but she does that with everyone without an ounce ofseriousness. It was Drakath that made the first leap into very seriouslydeclaring his intent to tie himself to Ty.

who brings flowers home: Ty and she grows them too. It pissedDrakath off to heck when she kept doing that. I remember a scene where he grabsit out of her hands and tries to strike her with it. That ended up puttingpetals in her hair and she gave a good giggle at his attempt and it melted himinto fuming magma. Once they’re together, Ty just likes having flowers in theirhome or just plain grows them, always offering them to Drakath.

who is the best cook: Drakath, not by choice. Rather bynecessity. Ty can cook and has the potential to cook wonderfully. Too bad she’safraid of poisoning and killing the people who eat her food so she cooks meattill its grey. If Drakath wants to not eat sand flavored dinners, he’s going tohave to do it himself. He does mess up a little since Ty likes watching him. 

[secretlystephaniebrown]

To Know This is Real (3/3)

Ahhh! We're at the end! Thanks so much for sticking with me guys, it means a ton!

Special thanks to @a-taller-tale​, who edited this for me, and to every single person who cheered me on this ridiculous endeavor. And additional thanks to the fantabulous @powerfulpomegranate​ and @littlefists​, who provided plenty of encouragement.

ONCE AGAIN: EXPLICIT CONTENT BELOW.

Summary: Kai and Tucker know what they want, and his name is Agent Washington.

Agent Washington knows what he deserves, and it’s certainly not Kaikaiana Grif and Lavernius Tucker.

Or: how three people in a canyon learn to talk about their feelings and maybe end up having lots of sex.

Pairings: Suckington, minor/background Yorkalina.

First Previous Ao3

Tucker woke up with his head on Wash’s arm and his legs tangled up with Kai’s. Wash, sandwiched between them, slept peacefully for once, eyes not even flickering with the signs of his normal nightmares.

It had really happened, Tucker thought, grinning.

Kai, on Wash’s other side, was snuggled right up against him, one arm thrown across Wash’s chest. Wash’s hand was tangled in her hair, as if he’d gone to sleep brushing it out with his fingers. Her breathing was loud, just this side of a snore, and Tucker grinned at the sight of the two of them. He wished he had a camera.

Carefully, Tucker lowered his head back down and closed his eyes. He wasn’t going to be the one to disturb this.

Morning afters were tricky at the best of times.

Tucker wasn’t sure where this one would fall on the scale of mornings after. Kai was great with mornings after, normally. But normally there were a lot less feelings involved. Dragging it out, Tucker suspected, would make Kai a lot more susceptible to awkwardness. Kai might not be able to help making it weird.

And Wash… Tucker slowly raised his hand and placed it on Wash’s bare chest, letting his fingers brush against Kai’s.

Tucker wasn’t sure what Wash was going to think or what he was going to do.

He wanted this, Tucker was sure of that. But he also knew that Wash could talk himself out of this just as easily. Convinced he didn’t deserve it, or that they didn’t feel the same way, or that he’d hurt them. Tucker was confident they could talk him out of it, get him out of his own head, but he was just worried Kai might get hurt in the process.

Tucker wondered to himself how he’d ended up in love with two people with abandonment issues. Honestly. What were the odds?

Wash was the next to wake up. Tucker could feel his heart race beneath his fingertips as Wash realized where he was and who he was with. Tucker opened his eyes.

“Morning,” he said, trying not to betray his fear that Wash was going to freak out.

Wash stared at him, his eyes flickering down to Kai, whose mouth was slightly open.

Then Wash practically melted against the pillows, letting his head turn to stare at Tucker.

“Hey,” Wash said. His fingers clenched slightly in Kai’s hair. She mumbled and nuzzled against Wash’s chest. She was drooling. Tucker didn’t bother to hide his grin.

“How are you feeling?” Tucker asked.

Wash paused. “A little sore,” he admitted. “But…” He leaned forward as much as he could without disturbing Kai, and kissed Tucker.

Tucker grinned, brushing the pads of his fingers over Wash’s face. The kiss was light, innocent, but when he pulled away the expression on Wash’s face was sappy as hell, and Tucker grinned.

The mattress shifted as Kai propped herself up. “Morning sex already?” She muttered, wiping her eyes.

“Breakfast first,” Wash said. There was a laugh in his voice, a lightness that Tucker savored.

“Boring,” Kai muttered, flopping back down onto the bed.

“Hey come on!” Tucker said, offended. “I thought you liked my pancakes!”

Kai lifted her head to stare at him blearily. “Mermph,” she managed to say.

“Okay, okay,” Tucker rolled his eyes and climbed over them to get out of bed. “I’ll make coffee.” Honestly, the fact that Tucker had been able to get words out of Wash was a miracle. He doubted it would last long. The two of them were the worst at mornings.

Once the smell of coffee had begun to fill the air, Wash and Kai finally emerged from the bedroom. Wash, Tucker was delighted to discover in the bright light of day, was covered in hickeys. Kai had that swagger in her step that indicated to Tucker he might have missed some groping. The flush in Wash’s cheeks confirmed that.

Tucker pointed the spatula at Kai. “Not fair!” He told her.

“Relax,” Kai stuck out her tongue as she drank deeply from her mug. “I just got him riled up.”

“You’re the worst girlfriend ever,” Wash muttered, face buried in the coffee cup. From this angle, Tucker could definitely see the way his boxers were tenting. “Of all time.”

Kai positively lit up at the label, and she wrapped her arms around Wash’s waist, hugging him wordlessly. Wash leaned back, accepting the embrace, and there was a slightly loosening in his shoulders.

Tucker gave Wash a thumbs up and mouthed “good job”. Wash flushed slightly, looking down. Tucker grinned. Too easy.

The next few days, Kai decided, were some of the best of her entire life, even if they were mostly sticking with vanilla stuff while they eased Wash into things. Not that Kai didn’t like vanilla stuff, it was definitely fun, especially now that there were two dicks involved, but Kai had ideas, okay, and she was getting tired of Tucker shaking his head at her whenever she started eying the toys.

Whatever. They’d get there.

Caboose and the floating, smaller, version of Church came back from their camping trip after three days, but Caboose was easy to shoo off so they could have sex, or cuddle on the couch, or watch movies. And Caboose dragged Epsilon everywhere.

Tex and Church still weren’t back. Kai tried calling her, because hel-lo she deserved to brag about this to someone other than Tucker and Wash, but Tex was out of range. Which sucked, but Kai guessed that Tex was having fun off on her own.

Kai wondered what robots did for romantic vacations. Maybe she’d ask Delta.

Kai wandered outside, thinking maybe she’d go bug Dex for a bit, maybe get Donut to help her with her nails, because he was way better at fixing up her cuticles than her, and she kind of wanted to see if Wash would let her mark him up, so she’d want her nails in top shape.

She saw a grey figure with weird armor in the distance.

She frowned. “Hey!” She said, stomping up to the person. Kai was glad she was in armor, because whoa, they were ripped. And hot, but in a kind of Tex way. The kind of hot that said they’d have no problem stomping all over Kai to get what they wanted. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Is Washington here?” Hello hot voice.

But Kai’s spine stiffened, because Wash was wanted by the cops, and no one was supposed to know he was here. “Fuck off!” She said.

The person took a step forward, menacingly. Kai found her eyes flickering down to the rifle in her hands. It wasn’t pointed at her, not yet, but it was getting there. “Tell me where he is,” they snarled, and look, Kai found a growl as sexy as the next person, but she suddenly was regretting not bringing her gun, because yeah, total Tex on first meeting vibe here, and she had a lot less good cover and no Church to act as a shouty distraction.

“Kai!” Wash was there, and pushed her back, getting between her and the yelling person, in full armor and armed. Kai felt a rush of relief. Wash was there. It was going to be fine.

Then he halted. “Carolina?” He asked, disbelieving.

Wait.

Kai knew that name.

Where did she know that name from?

“Wash,” this Carolina was saying, the gun lowering. “Good. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

“Who the fuck is this?” Tucker was there now too, panting slightly. He must have run all the way from Blue base.

“Tucker,” Wash said, still stiff. He hadn’t relaxed, hadn’t stopped blocking Kai from Carolina’s gaze and weapon. “Go get the Reds.”

Carolina didn’t even glance at Tucker as he began to run.

“How did you find me?” Wash asked. His grip on his weapon hadn’t relaxed.

“It took some time,” Carolina said. “But I found a few anomalies. Traced it to here. Saw that these were the people you took down Freelancer with. Took a gamble. Guess it paid off.”

There was a clipped, professional quality to her tone that Kai kind of liked, but it also made her nervous. Because what did she want with Wash?

Kai tugged Wash back slightly. “Who is she?” She demanded, making her voice loud and screechy on purpose. “Is she a cop?” She tightened her grip on Wash’s arm. “Cuz like, he’s not one of you anymore! You can’t have him back!”

Kai knew that if Wash dared to take his hand off his rifle, he’d be gripping her hand, trying to get her to stop. But he didn’t fight her as she backed up, increasing the distance between them and Carolina.

“What do you want, Carolina?” Wash demanded.

Carolina. That was a state, Kai realized. This was a Freelancer.

Kai tried to message Tex again, but she was still too far away.

Oh.

Wash had sent Tucker to Red Base.

They had another Freelancer on the way.

Kai gripped Wash’s arm slightly, hoping that York was going to be able to help with this.

Suddenly, the sound of a shotgun went off, and Carolina spun on her heel, moving way too fast, dodging.

“Damn it,” Wash muttered, as York began to fight.

“What’s happening?” Kai asked Wash.

“York doesn’t realize who she is,” Wash said with a sigh.

“So why is he fighting her?”

“... he thinks she stole her armor.” He paused for a second. “And she thinks he stole his.”

“Oooh, right. He’s supposed to be dead,” Kai nodded.

She watched, fascinated, at the way the two of them moved. She’d never seen York really fight anyone, not like she’d seen Tex or Wash fight. York was good, Kai was surprised to see.

But Carolina was better, pinning him to the ground, and it didn’t look like she had sexy intentions either.

“How dare you!” Carolina yelled, ripping off York’s helmet, then froze. “York?”

York took advantage of her surprise, turning the tables and pinning Carolina right back. “I show you mine…” His voice had that edge to it, that “I’m really upset but don’t want people to know” thing he did sometimes. Kai leaned forward, trying to see better. Wash held her back.

Carolina’s helmet came off, and Kai grinned. She’d totally been right. Super-hot.

York stared for a moment.

And then the two of them began to roll on the grass, making out.

“Oh!” Kai said. “She’s the girlfriend?” Carolina had ended up on top, which York seemed to have absolutely no problem with. Kai revised her earlier thoughts about Carolina not having sexy intentions.

Wash sighed. “She was our leader, back at Freelancer.”

“I can tell!” Tucker was on Kai’s other side now. “I bet she bossed him around a lot! Bow-chicka-bow-wow.”

Wash closed his eyes. “This,” he said. “Might take a while.”

Carolina’s presence in Valhalla made Wash restless. She was staying with the Reds, and for that, Wash was grateful, but she was there. She was alive, and she was at Valhalla, and she wanted to hunt the Director…

And she wanted them to come with her.

At night, Wash had bad dreams. Dreams of Tucker and Kai on the Mother of Invention, right in the line of fire. Dreams of the Counselor and his smooth, placid voice, asking him questions about them. Dreams about a ranch house in Texas, with a little girl running around in the front yard, a house he’d never been to, but that he knew like he knew his own scars.

He’d do anything to keep them away from the Director.

But he looked at them the minute Carolina asked for their help, and he knew they weren’t going to let him do this alone.

Wash counted down the days until Tex comes back. When Tex was back, they could leave. Maybe this itch wouldn’t be so bad, once they left, once they started moving. Maybe when the ghost of Freelancer was exorcised from Valhalla it could be calm again. Maybe Wash could get that precious, delicate feeling of belonging, of safety, of home, back.

It’s not that he wanted Carolina gone—far from it. But the mission was like poison on the air, destroying the lighthearted nature of the peace that had been before.

Wash had known it wouldn’t last.

But he wished, desperately, that it could have lasted just a while longer.

Tex returned, and Wash breathed out. Tex was oddly stabilizing, oddly reassuring. Carolina had the same effect. When they were there, Wash knew that things would get done.

Well.

Unless they killed each other first, he amended mentally, watching the way Carolina stood too still, too tightly wound to relax in Tex’s presence.

They’d been packing for a while now, preparing for Tex and Church’s return, but there were still things to do before leaving.

Tex walked up to Wash, a bag slung over her shoulder. She tilted her helmet to one side, and Wash could feel her smirk. “Oh, it finally happened, didn’t it?”

Wash didn’t look at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Tex reached out and yanked the collar of his undersuit down slightly, exposing the fresh bruise that Tucker had left last night. She whistled. “They’ve been having fun.”

Wash batted her hands away, glaring. “You knew?” He asked, offended.

Tex patted his arm without an ounce of sympathy. “Yes. Now, I need to go collect. York owes me a twenty.”

“You bet on this?” Wash said, feeling like he should be offended.

“Yep,” Tex said, smug.

“You two are the worst,” Wash muttered.

“Sure are,” Tex said, walking away from him, striding purposefully towards York. Carolina, in the distance, threw a bag into the Warthog with more force than necessary.

Wash paused, and realized that yes, Carolina would have missed all of Tex and York’s Calvin & Hobbes shtick.

He sighed again, and went to go get Caboose and Epsilon.

There were bigger things to do than to deal with that particular mess. They were all adults. Surely they could get things sorted on their own.

Leaving Valhalla was not fun. Tucker hadn’t quite realized how much he’d grown to like that place until he was leaving. It wasn’t like Blood Gulch at least. The most important part was coming with him.

He messaged Junior again, letting him know everything was fine, and then got into the driver’s seat. He was on first shift for their warthog, Wash and Kai in the back seat, with Church beside him, and Caboose on the gun. Tucker was vaguely aware that this might be what would be considered a “grave mistake” by many people, but Caboose wanted to keep an eye on Epsilon, whose travel arrangements were currently “attached to a tether tied to back of Carolina’s mongoose”. It was pretty fucking hilarious, Tucker had to admit.

Tex also had a mongoose, which she was currently sharing with Donut. Tucker kept glancing at Church, trying to see how his best friend was taking this, but Church was staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge anything.

Admittedly, Church had been more or less like that since Carolina had returned.

Tucker wondered if he was supposed to talk to him about it or something, but he had no idea really. Church was hard to talk to at the best of times about emotional shit, and this was…

Well.

To be honest, Tucker had no idea what to do about any of the Carolina situation. Not her and Wash, her and Tex, her and Church, and not even her and York, not that Tucker particularly cared about that part, because whatever. That was clearly the kind of dramatic mess that had made Tucker determined to avoid relationships for most of his… well okay, pretty much until Kai and Wash.

His point stood though.

That was a mess, and Tucker wasn’t going near that shit with a ten foot pole.

He glanced at York, who was clearly gossiping with Tex over the radio again.

Tucker mentally re-measured the pole. Twenty sounded safer. Maybe thirty.

“Freelancers,” he complained out loud. “Why are you guys so fucking dramatic?”

“Excellent question,” Wash muttered, arms crossed and looking tense, despite Kai’s foot in his lap.

Church groaned, cradling his head in his hands again. “This fucking headache won’t stop,” he complained. “It’s bullshit!”

“If you’ll just process the information,” Wash said snippily. “It should stop!”

“You said Carolina died!” Church snapped. “What more is there to process?”

Tucker kept his eyes on the road.

“You need to process who she is! When you were dead you could hold the information at bay, but now you need to process it. You’re too close to Epsilon to maintain that kind of memory blank for long,” Wash said. “You know he projects!”

“I can manage it,” Church said, through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t you want to know who she is?” Tucker couldn’t help asking.

“Because!” Church snapped. “I’m not him. It’s not who she is to me, it’s who she is to him, and I don’t want that! I don’t… I’m not him!”

“So you hurt yourself?” Kai asked. “That seems dumb.”

Church whipped around to glare at her. “Shut the fuck up,” he seethed. “You don’t know anything.”

“What,” Kai challenged. “Is knowing who she is gonna change who you are?”

There was a long, painful silence.

“Maybe,” Church said, almost too quiet to hear.

The next leg of the trip was spent in silence.

Their breaks weren’t as frequent as Kai might have liked, but Wash and Tex managed to convince Carolina they should stop for the night.

Something was up with Epsilon, but Kai wasn’t exactly sure what. He was spending a lot of time with Carolina.

“I don’t know,” York said, shaking his head as he sat on the back of the warthog. He was fiddling with his cigarettes, but he hadn’t started smoking yet. “I’m sure it’ll sort itself out soon.”

Tex shrugged. “Epsilon’s always been a weird one, even for the fragments. No offense, Dee,” she added.

“None taken, Agent Texas,” Delta said.

Kai sat on the ground, staring up at the stars. “It’s weird that the constellations are different here,” she complained.

“That’s what happens when you go to space,” York said, sounding amused.

Kai stuck her tongue out at him. “I know that.”

He snorted slightly, and offered her the cigarettes. She waved him off. She wasn’t in the mood. Wash might be grumpy if she came to bed smelling of smoke. It was her turn in the middle too. She wasn’t about to get him riled up, not when there wasn’t much chance he’d let her and Tucker wind him down afterwards. Kai wondered if this was a sign that their relationship was getting boring. They’d only been dating for about two weeks now, surely they hadn’t broken the honeymoon stage yet.

Tex sat down next to Kai. “Move over,” Tex said. Kai obliged, so they were sitting back to back.

“Church thinks he’ll lose himself,” Kai said, leaning her head back against Tex’s shoulder.

“I know,” Tex said. “I’ve tried to tell him, but he won’t listen.”

“Can’t we just tell him that unless he starts picking up a southern accent, there’s nothing to worry about?” York said.

Tex threw something at him, knocking him off the back of the warthog. “Too close?” He said, appropriately contrite.

“Very,” Tex’s voice was ice.

“Sorry,” York sighed. He leaned against the wheel, not bothering to climb back up. “I just want this to be over.”

“Me too,” Kai said.

Tex was quiet.

“Tex?” Kai said, quietly. “You never said. What did he do to you?”

Tex froze against Kai.

“He hurt Church,” Tex said, but there was something off in her voice.

“Yeah, and he fucked with Wash and left Carolina for dead and screwed over everyone, but what did he do to you?”

“Kai,” York said, and Kai could hear the warning in his voice, but Kai pushed on.

“So?” She asked, regretting their position for a moment, because she wanted to be looking at Tex directly for this.

Tex let out a sigh. “He tried to change who I was,” Tex said. “I wasn’t who he wanted me to be.”

“That’s stupid,” Kai said. “You’re fucking awesome. Why would anyone try to change that?”

Tex let out a laugh, harsher than normal, but Kai savored it anyways, feeling Tex’s shoulders relax against Kai’s.

She felt York nudge her with his foot, an unstated thanks.

Kai grinned at him, and started speculating out loud about alien constellations.

Apparently, Kai and Tucker had noticed how on edge Wash had been for the past few days.

“You need to just relax,” Tucker said. “I know there’s a lot of bullshit happening but…” he trailed off.

Wash looked away. “It’s… complicated,” he said, knowing how inadequate the words sounded.

Kai and Tucker looked at each other. “Can we help you relax?” Kai said, starting to grin. Wash knew that grin. That grin meant trouble.

“We’re not having sex in the middle of the wilderness, ten feet away from the others,” Wash said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Alright,” Tucker said.

Then he grabbed Wash’s hand and started pulling him further away from the main camp.

“That is not what I meant!” Wash said.

“We won’t have sex if you don’t want to,” Kai said, shaking her head at him as she followed, grabbing Wash’s other hand as she went.

“But if Kai and I have sex and you watch…” Tucker’s eyebrows wiggled and Wash’s blush spread further.

“That’s… that’s not…”

Kai hummed thoughtfully. “What, want us to tie you up first?”

Wash let out a squeak.

“Ooh, noted for later,” Tucker said.

“I can’t believe you two,” Wash muttered.

“What?” Kai said, far too innocent to be believed. “We don’t have rope. Can’t actually do it.”

“You want to tie me up so I can watch you two have sex?” Wash squeaked, as Tucker finally came to a stop.

“You did like to watch,” Tucker said, before tugging off the undersuit he was wearing.

“You two are serious,” Wash muttered. “You’re actually going to…”

Kai laughed. “Well, you can join us if you want.”

Wash muttered an answer that even he didn’t understand, before pulling Kai in for a kiss.

“That’s a yes?” Tucker asked, already tugging at Wash’s zipper.

“Yes,” Wash growled, twisting around, sinking his teeth into Tucker’s neck. Tucker moaned, still struggling to remove Wash’s armor.

“Hmm,” Kai said, grabbing Wash’s ass, making Wash jump slightly.

“What are you thinking?” Wash managed to ask, knowing that tone very well.

Kai’s grin was bright as she raised something into Wash’s view.

“Is that my sleeping mask?” Wash demanded.

“No,” Kai said, snapping the elastic around his neck so it hung like a necklace. “It’s a blindfold.”

Wash stared at her.

“Ooh,” Tucker said, starting to adjust it, dragging it up his head again, messing up Wash’s hair as he went. “Sounds like fun. Wash?”

Wash considered. “Let’s try it,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” Kai promised, kissing his jaw briefly before picking up the mask part. “We’ll be talking the whole time.”

The last thing Wash saw before they fitted the blindfold on was Kai and Tucker’s smirks.

Tucker tangled his fingers through Wash’s, his breath hot on Wash’s ear. “Easy,” Tucker muttered. “God this is hot, don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner. You look great with a blindfold.”

Wash let out a whine, unable to stop himself as Kai latched onto his neck and began to suck. The sound turned into a gasp as she bit down, her teeth grazing his skin.

“Shh,” Tucker tilted his chin back to kiss. “Just let us take care of you.”

Wash was grateful for Tucker’s solidness as he leaned back, practically melting against him as Kai slowly began to kiss her way down his body. She licked a stripe along his collarbone, and Wash whined again.

“Kai, please,” Wash said.

“Gorgeous,” Kai said, and Wash gasped as her teeth grazed one of his scars.

Wash felt his cock jump, and Kai laughed, licking his abs before he heard the sound of her knees hitting the ground.

Wash waited for the teasing, for her to kiss around his dick, marking him up, tormenting him, making him beg.

What he didn’t expect was for Kai to suck the tip of his dick right into her mouth, her fingers digging into his thighs. Wash tried to cry out, but Tucker kissed him again, swallowing the sounds, nipping at his bottom lip, encouraging him to open his mouth to Tucker.

Wash was melting, coming undone. He tried to move his hands towards Kai as she moved her lips up and down his cock, humming as she went, but Tucker held him firmly in place, and Wash realized that they’ve managed to find a substitute for rope after all.

Wash gasped as Kai gently scraped her teeth down the length of his dick as she came up for air, laughing breathlessly as she kissed the inside of Wash’s thigh. “Betcha I can deep throat him,” Kai panted.

“You’re on,” Tucker said, and Wash could his chest move as he talked, pressed against Wash’s back as he was. He could feel Tucker’s erection pressing against his leg, but Tucker hadn’t moved to do anything about it.

“What does she—Kai, fuck—win?” Wash managed to ask, even as Kai began to lick a stripe up the side of his dick.

“I get to fuck him,” Kai said cheerfully. He could hear the smirk in her voice. “If you’re good, you can watch.”

“He’s always good,” Tucker said, gently kissing Wash’s ear. “He’s looking after us. Now it’s our turn.”

Wash gripped Tucker’s hands as tightly as he could as Kai swirled her tongue over the head of his cock before swallowing him down fully.

“Fuck,” Wash cried, his hips jerking forward without thinking. Kai moved back slightly, breathing hard, but then moved back down, slowly, agonizingly slowly, using her teeth and her tongue and…

Wash shuddered and gasped, and Kai pulled back, coughing slightly. “Did it,” she said, smug.

Tucker laughed. “What do you think? Has Wash been good enough to watch?”

Wash squirmed as he could feel Kai’s panting mouth approach him again. “I think he should beg,” Kai said. “Want to see it, Wash?”

Wash whined, thrusting forwards, towards Kai’s mouth. The image his brain was providing was vivid, enhanced by the time that he’d walked in on Kai wearing her belt, and the intimate knowledge of how Tucker looked while being fucked.

“Please,” he muttered, hips rocking again. Kai took him into her mouth again, and Wash could feel himself getting close. “Kai, please, I want…”

“Go on then,” Tucker muttered in his ear, breath hot, Tucker’s erection pressing against his leg. “Come.”

Wash felt Kai hum in assent, and Wash wasn’t sure if it was that or Tucker’s telling him it was okay that pushed him over the edge, hips rocking forward as he came in Kai’s mouth.

When he was done, she pulled away, and he heard a spitting noise. “Gross,” Kai complained.

Wash flushed, as Tucker tugged down his blindfold so he could see. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“I don’t mind,” Kai said, patting him on the thigh, still on her knees in front of him. “I just don’t like swallowing. You want Tucker for that.”

Tucker grinned and laughed. “So? He earn it?” Wash could still feel Tucker’s erection, untouched, against his back.

Wash flushed, because he hadn’t done anything.

Kai hummed thoughtfully, getting to her feet. “Well,” she said. “He did ask. But he didn’t specify what he was asking for.”

Wash opened his mouth to protest.

“So I think he gets to be tied up,” Kai concluded, grinning wickedly. “No touching.”

Wash flushed at the thought of that, and he suspected that if he hadn’t just came, he’d be hard again. “Later?” It wasn’t meant to be a question, but his voice rose without his assent.

“Later,” Kai said. “I need to get rope.” Her grin was filthy.

Wash kissed her, unable to believe, sometimes, that this was real. That this was his life. “Thanks,” he said, softly. “I…” He glanced down. “If you want…?”

Kai pressed a finger against his lips. “Nah,” she said. “You can pay me back later.” She paused.

“I’m not fingering you in the back of the Warthog,” Wash said, flushing.

“We’ll talk about it,” Kai said, confidently.

“Kai!”

She just grinned at him and started hunting for her helmet.

When they got back, Epsilon had apparently abandoned his sphere for Carolina’s armor, and everything was a disaster.

And by “everything”, Tucker meant “Caboose”.

“You need to talk to him,” Tucker said to Church.

“It’s not my fucking fault that Epsilon decided he wanted to live in Carolina’s fucking head!” Church protested. “Let him deal with this!”

“Dude. The guy’s obsessed with revenge right now. I’m not sure if Caboose’s feelings are on his radar.”

“What, and they’re on mine?”

Tucker scowled. “Whatever dude. If you’re just going to be a dick about it, I’ll go get Wash and go look for Caboose. And listen to him cry about his best friend for hours.”

Church stiffened. “It’s not my fault!”

“Yeah,” Tucker said. “But you have been avoiding him since Epsilon.”

“I wasn’t avoiding him!” Church protested.

“Do you really think Caboose has figured that out? Dude, you yell about how much you hate Caboose half the time. He might take it personally.”

“Look, he fucking replaced me,” Church snapped. “And the guy he replaced me with gives me headaches!”

Tucker straightened slightly. “Still? I thought you’d fucking processed that shit.”

Church waved his concerns away. “Not that kind of headache dude. He’s just so fucking full of himself.”

“You realize…”

“Shut up, Tucker.”

Tucker couldn’t help but grin slightly at that. “C’mon dude. Cut Caboose some slack. Epsilon liked spending time with him a lot more than you ever did. Can’t blame him for taking advantage.”

Church didn’t say anything, just kicked the dirt.

“Would it even help?”

“I don’t know, Church. Let’s see.”

Caboose wasn’t hard to find. They just had to follow the sounds of Caboose muttering.

“Anguish. Despair. Abandoned. Loneliness,” Caboose muttered, weaving his way through the trees.

“Caboose?” Church said, awkward. He glanced at Tucker, who rolled his eyes and nodded encouragingly. “

“Oh!” Caboose brightened. “Church!”

“I… I heard about Epsilon,” Church shifted. “I’m… sorry Caboose. I… I feel… kind of… bad… that I haven’t been spending…” Tucker kicked him encouragingly. “Ouch!”

“Spending much ouch. That is a new kind of currency. What is the exchange rate?” Caboose said, deadpan enough that Tucker almost suspected Caboose was making a joke.

“No, Caboose! I’m… look, I’m sorry I’m an asshole. Epsilon really freaks me out. And I’m sorry he’s off with Carolina right now. But I’m… willing to talk?” Church sounded like the last part actually pained him.

Caboose let out the most delighted sound Tucker had ever heard, and lunged forward, scooping Church up in his arms.

“Church!”

Tucker took that as his exit queue, and quietly slipped away, leaving the two of them to it.

“Caboose! Put me down! Seriously!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

“That is not remotely what I said! Are you even listening?”

Tucker grinned, and stepped back into the campground. Good deed of the day, accomplished. Now he could send Wash naked pictures while he was on watch all night.

Nights were slow, on the move. It was frustrating for the Freelancers, Kai knew. They all wanted to be moving constantly, but they’d eventually come to understand that the rest of them needed to rest.

Tucker was busy talking with Dex about something—probably trying to set up a screening of Reservoir Dogs.

Which left Kai and Wash alone, sitting in the Warthog.

“I’m bored,” Kai grumbled.

Wash sighed, exasperated. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

That was all the invitation she needed. Grinning, Kai moved across the center dash, onto Wash’s lap.

“Kai,” Wash said, warningly. She rolled her eyes. He’d only emphasized the “no sex too close to the others” thing about a million times. She got it. It was on the no list.

“PG, got it,” Kai said, before lowering her mouth to his.

Wash leaned back, resting his head against the seat back, his hands moving around her waist, trying to pull her closer to him. Kai poked his lips with her tongue, and Wash opened his mouth instantly, eager to deepen the kiss.

He loved this, Kai could tell. This kind of open affection, completely separate from sex. He ate it up, moaning into her mouth. Kai grinned, enjoying it as she managed to start to pull him apart without needing to do anything more than this. She’d probably have him regretting his own rule pretty soon, although she knew he wouldn’t break it.

There was a loud crash, and Kai pulled away from Wash for a second—he whined slightly, which Kai had to savor—to see Carolina staring at them, wide-eyed. A bag full of weapons lay at her feet, overflowing with what looked like ammo.

“I, uh,” Carolina was flushing, Kai could tell. “I’ll come back later?”

“Boss!” Wash’s hands tightened around Kai’s hips, unwilling to push her away, but clearly embarrassed. Or… no that wasn’t it. Kai couldn’t put her finger on it. He didn’t care that Carolina knew, but he didn’t want to be caught with his pants down. Metaphorically.

Kai wondered, idly, if she could get his pants down tonight after all, as she shifted in his lap. Well. His armor. It could be fun.

Presuming Carolina didn’t ruin the mood.

Kai sighed, and slipped off Wash’s lap. Clearly sensing her being upset about it, he reached over and took her hand.

“I… I hadn’t realized you were seeing someone,” Carolina said, awkwardly glancing at Kai.

“Two someones,” Kai said, sticking her tongue out at Carolina, even as she tried to evaluate if she should be offended. “Me and Tucker.”

Carolina looked back at Wash, and there was a hint of a smile on her face. “Seriously?”

Kai grinned, while Wash started to protest Carolina being surprised.

“I’m… happy for you,” Carolina said, and oh! Kai got it now. Carolina was awkward, just like Tex. Well, different than Tex. Because Tex probably would have thrown ice water over them, not said she was happy for them. But the meaning would have been the same, Kai knew.

“It won’t distract me from the mission,” Wash said. Kai squeezed his hand tightly. They wouldn’t distract him. This was important to him. Maybe, if the asshole was dead, Wash could stop having nightmares about him. Kai would like that.

Carolina nodded. “I’ll… right.” She turned away. Kai thought she spotted a flicker of blue, like Epsilon, over her shoulder for a moment.

Kai watched her go, trying to decide if the mood was right to pick back up where they left off, when Wash slid onto her lap and began to kiss her neck, her mouth, her jaw, every part of her he could reach.

“Woods?” Wash muttered, voice deliciously low and dark. “I do owe you one.”

Kai beamed. “Yes,” she said, throwing open the door to the warthog and scrambling out, pulling Wash with her.

They were close.

So close, Wash could almost taste it.

Carolina had implanted Epsilon, and Wash had been doing his absolute best to not think about it. It had been hard enough, knowing Epsilon was floating around the base back at Valhalla, hard enough knowing he was the next room over most of the time.

But now he was in Carolina’s head, and all Wash wanted to do was rip him right out and throw him off a cliff.

He hadn’t said anything to her about it though.

Maybe it was that he knew she wouldn’t listen, maybe it was Epsilon’s presence alone that stopped him. They hadn’t… they hadn’t talked about it, not really.

Wash wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Epsilon was messy and complicated and painful, and Wash didn’t know what to do any more.

Everything was spiraling out of control.

Except Kai and Tucker.

Tucker groaned, propping himself up on his elbows. “Wash,” he said, voice heavy with sleep. “Stop thinking and go to sleep.”

“You’re thinking too loud,” Kai muttered, her arms wrapped around Tucker’s waist.

“I… sorry,” Wash said.

Tucker seemed more awake, suddenly. He reached out, pressing his hand against Wash’s cheek. “Everything okay?”

Wash floundered for an answer. “I don’t know,” he finally said.

Kai sat up. “Director thing, Carolina thing, or Epsilon thing?” She asked, direct and to the point, like normal.

“Epsilon,” Wash admitted. “I…”

“Is this the thing you have nightmares about?” Tucker asked. “I mean, you’ve never really said. Just that Epsilon was your AI. I know Church knows, but…”

Wash blinked, mind reeling. “I… I thought you knew,” he said.

No one had told them. Not Tex, not York, not Church, not Epsilon. They’d all kept quiet. Wash wasn’t sure if he was furious at them or grateful, for putting this in his hands, for making him be the one to find the words, to have to try to explain.

How could he describe it? How much was too much, how little was too little? Were they mad at him for not telling them? How long had they been waiting for him to open up, to trust them?

Wash bit his lip.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Kai said. “If you don’t want to. But we’ll listen. If you want.”

“It can wait,” Tucker said, sensible. “If you want. It doesn’t have to be now.”

Wash closed his eyes, and remembered Allison’s face.

They might not survive tomorrow. Wash knew this, although he knew it wouldn’t have occurred to them. The Director would have known they were coming. He’d be prepared.

“No, it’s… it’s fine,” Wash said. He swallowed, and began to tell the story of a boy named Cecil Kyle.

Tucker really wished they’d brought Sheila right about now.

Tex and Carolina were doing their work well, don’t get him wrong, but there were so many of these… things.

It was… wrong. They spoke, sometimes, but it was awful, sounding more like O’Malley than Tex, although a few of them did sound right, and those ones were even worse.

Their movements were like Tex’s, but jerky, disjointed, out of sync. Dangerous, sure, but nothing like the real thing.

Tucker glanced at Tex, trying to judge how she was handling all of this. He couldn’t get a read at all, and that was almost more worrying.

Tucker was fighting back to back with Wash sometimes, Kai others, but things were moving so quickly that it was hard to stay near either of them. He swung his sword, taking out any that got too close, while the others fought ones further away.

Epsilon made them all collapse, but it was only a reprieve and they all knew it. Tucker thought he might understand Church’s self-hatred issues.

Church and Epsilon went with Carolina and Tex to finish this.

Tucker grabbed Wash’s wrist. “You okay?” He asked.

Wash nodded. “You two?”

Kai gripped Tucker’s shoulder tightly. “Fine,” she said.

They moved to circle in with the others, and the fight began again.

After a long time, they came back. “It’s over,” Tex said, simply. She sounded tired. Really, really tired. Tucker looked away, checking on Kai and Wash.

“Who needs the healing unit?” York asked, leaning against Sarge, breathing heavily.

“York?” Carolina asked, alarmed.

“I’m fine,�� York said. “Couple of broken ribs. Nothing to worry about.”

Carolina hesitated, as if wanting to approach him, but unsure if she should. Tucker had long since given up trying to understand those two. He never wanted to go back to the “will they or won’t they” phase that those two were stuck in right now.

“Kiss him already!” Donut said. “Red Team can’t take another ten years of pining!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Simmons demanded.

Carolina seemed to have taken Donut’s encouragement to heart though, because she yanked him away from Sarge and…

Oh.

Well, a hug worked too.

Tucker shrugged, and turned around, yanking off his own helmet.

Kai was already ahead of him, and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him into a kiss.

“No one needs to see that, Tucker!” Church yelled.

“Fuck off, Church,” Wash said, and wow, Tucker could pick them, Tucker decided, spinning around to kiss Wash next.

Dating two people at once did make post-battle makeouts a bit more difficult, Tucker had to admit, even as he let go of Wash so that Kai could dip him.

But totally worth it.

“So where to now?” Kai said, holding Tucker and Wash’s hand as they stared up at the Hand of Merope.

“Home,” Wash said, squeezing her hand.

“We’re big damn heroes now,” Tucker said. “Sheila’s going to be proud of us.”

“Hell yeah she is,” Kai said, grinning.

Kai started to pull them forward.

It didn’t matter where they were going, Kai decided.

Because wherever they were going, they’d be together.

And really, she thought, grinning at her brother, who was arguing with Simmons, at Tex, who was making fun of York, and at Church, who was desperately trying to ignore Caboose, what else mattered?

[midwesttiltking-blog]

08-Baseball, But Better

This chapter Is about trying to take a girl on a date in the zombie apocalypse. Hope you like it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Are you sure you should be drinking this early?” Kevin pat Darrin on the back who was hunched over the bar his face barely above his glass.

Darrin turned to look at Kevin his eyes were still red and his face had lost most of its color “I think I’ll just stay here for the day”

The bartender smirked as he began to draw another beer for Darrin. He was a large man with facial tattoos and a nose piercing his head shaved clean. When he set the drink down he leaned  and whispered “I’ve got a few other things that could make you feel better too, if you need.”

Moon grabbed Kevin and pulled him away from the conversation “Well...This bar is kinda creepy so we’re going to go wander around the city a bit. Right Kevin?”

Kevin noticed many of the patrons were watching as the walked out of the bar. All of them males, long beards, bandanas, sunglasses and leather jackets, “yeah...let’s get the fuck outta this place”

They made their way back into the sunlight and city streets. The city was contained to just a few roads. It probably was host to a few thousand people before the outbreak. Only a few builds had been destroyed unlike many of the town's Matt had liberated which often boasted burnt ashes of government building, banks and mansions. Kevin and Moon explored the city streets not finding much to do. To their surprise despite the city being in pretty good physical condition many of the people there were living in squalor. The city streets were almost completely empty, and those that did cross their path looked as though they had not eaten or bathed in days. They stopped and sat on a park bench. Kevin fiddled through his backpack and pulled out an old off brand MP3 player and some earbuds. He placed one in his ear and offered the Moon. She smiled and placed it in her ear. Kevin scrolled through the artists, for a moment then finally landed on one and hit play. They kicked back and looked up into the sky for a few minutes in silence.

“Say Anything huh?” Moon slowly turned her head towards Kevin.

“Yeah they are my favorite band”

“Oh yeah? You love those sappy love songs, or just the angsty vibe of ...Is a real boy?”

“I love everything about them. I always thought Max and I were kinda the same, and if someone like him could find love after all the emotional struggles he went through when he was younger, maybe I could too.”

Moon giggled a little “Yeah you just gotta have the perfect voice and the perfect bod first before you can find your Sherri”

Kevin shrugged “Ok ok, maybe we’re not super similar, but you know what I mean.”

Moon turned back to the sky “Yeah I get it you are a Cusack boy”

Kevin smiled “Are you Molly Ringwald girl?”

Moon put her hand on Kevin’s back prompting them to stand up together “Hm, I don’t know. But I’m sure there is a guy out there writing shitty pop-punk songs accusing me of being his Molly”

Kevin nervously pressed the conversation on “Oh yeah? Did your last boyfriend write music?”

Moon responded almost automatically “No”

“What was he like”

Moon shivered involuntarily “He was nothing more than a body”

“Oh...um, we don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to, I’m sorry for always asking you about it.”

Moon looked up at Kevin. Her eyes welled up, but she kept a smile on her face “Yeah, sounds good.” They continued walking through the city passing the MP3 player back and forth taking turns picking songs. They ended up at a diner which boasted having the best food that stayed dead. The menu was carved into a wall above the grill, notably it did not include prices, just money symbols.  “Rabbit $, Deer $$, Pig $$$, Water, Beer $$” 

 Kevin chuckled at the simplicity “Hm, doesn’t look like this place has any specials or a seasonal menu, you sure we should eat here?”

The cook turned around exposing a scarred face and missing eye “yah can order something, or fuck off”

“Well take 2 orders of deer and waters” Moon took a place at the bar not intimidated by the chef. 

The chef smirked and extended his arm putting a finger on the center of Moon’s chest “And how exactly do you propose to pay for this missy”

Moon grabbed his wrist and squeezed as she bent his arm away from her “Were good for the money, now I believe your job is serving us not harassing me.”

“You let this little bitch act like this? She’s gunna get killed out here” the chef turned to Kevin looking for someone to take his side.

Kevin had partially drawn his short sword “Look man, you are lucky you didn’t get killed when you touched her so maybe you should start cooking if you plan to make a sale here.”

The two waited in silence as their food was prepared. Kevin pulled out an old flip phone and began typing a text message trying to be quiet about it. He passed it over to moon beneath the bar. 

“This guy is a dick, lets just go somewhere else”

She shook her head and began typing back “No, we’re not backing down. But you are probably gunna have to fight him to prove you are more macho than him”

Kevin laughed aloud a bit prompting the cook turned around. He slammed two waters on the counter with a grumpy stare. Kevin quickly hid the phone in his jacket. The cook grunted as he scanned over both of them, then turned back to the grill. “You are outsiders huh?” he paused and cracked his neck “Bet you got a lot of nice stuff on you” He spun around thrusting a knife forward. Kevin barely dodged it. About to fall off the bar stool he reach out and grabbed the man’s arm, accidentally pulling the cook over the bar counter. The two of them tumbled to the ground wrestling for control of the knife. Kevin push the knife clear of his head, then let go with one of his hands and began elbowing his assailant in the head. The cook let go of the knife and grabbed Kevin, pulling him to his feet. He lifted Kevin off the ground and tossed him crashing into a booth. Kevin braced the attack and attempted to draw his sword but the hilt was stuck under the tabletop. Rolling over onto the floor he dodged a plate which was hurled towards his head. Kevin struggled to get out from under the table, before he could clear it the cook stepped on his right hand. Kevin cried out for a second in pain then he bent over wedging his sword’s sheath into the man’s stomach. He flipped forward shoving the man backward while simultaneously drawing his blade. Kevin stumbled to his feet using a bar stool to prop himself up. The cook reached over the counter, and pulled out a shotgun. Kevin took a deep breath and audibly exhaled. *TWACK* The back side of moon’s blade smashed against the chef’s head. He lost his balance falling over onto a table. Silverware and coffee cups shattered as the body spilled to the ground. 

Kevin sighed as he put his sword away “I would have paid him too”

“Well I’m still hungry” Moon gestured her head toward the grill.

Kevin pulled up his sleeves and dusted off his clothes “Ok ok, give me a minute.” He search through the building finding a few things not listed on the menu. He finished the dish able to serve the meat seasons with garlic powder and a side of lettuce, with a dessert of half a chocolate bar. The two took their food to go. Before leaving Kevin dug in his pack to find a few old dollar bills. In very teenage angst fashion, He had drawn the anarchy A over the president’s faces. He left $60 laying on top of the unconscious body and lightly patted him on the face “See you could have all the useless money you want and we wouldn’t have beat the shit out of you.”

The pair ended up at an abandoned movie theater and decided to take refuge there to avoid another run in with a less than friendly member of the city. They sat side by side towards the back eating their food. Kevin sat with his legs on top of the seat in front of him while Moon kept to her space respecting the potential viewers in front of her. A piece of meat fell from Moon’s plate and almost immediately a rat scurried out to procure it. Before he could make it back to his hiding place beneath the seats a throwing knife pinned him to the ground. 

Moon nudged Kevin her face half smiling “Well if you are still hungry, I found some more meat”

Kevin pretended to gag then brushed the body away with his foot “Nah, I’m good… you know, the projector here is probably digital, I bet I could rig it up to play something. What do you want to see?”

Moon sat for a minute pondering, “Hm,  it doesn’t have to be a drama, but just something you really connect with emotionally”

Kevin took off to the upstairs and made his way to the video room. Sure enough it was a digital projector. He opened his backpack and poured out a few electrical devices. He cut off the plug for the projector and stripped the cables, then tapped them to a laptop battery. After a few seconds the projector powered on. He took out a tablet and scrolled through a movie folder. Eventually he settled on the first Gurren Lagann movie. With his chest puffed out Kevin proudly walked back into the theater signing the opening theme song of the movie. 

Taking his seat next to moon he placed a smartphone between them with the speakers facing up.“I don’t have enough electricity for the sound system...So this will have to do”

“Meh good enough for me.”

Kevin very energetically watched the film explaining to Moon the parts which had been left out from the original anime, and the cool new scenes that were improved in the movie. He echoed all of his favorite lines from the film, sometimes even standing up and pointing to the sky copying the pose of the characters on screen. As the film came to a close, the scene which Kevin dreaded began. 

He sat back with his arms crossed. “Bitch” he whispered under his breath 

Moon turned to look at him “What?”

“She’s a bitch”

“Yoko?”

“Yeah she comes between Kamina and Simon and causes him to die”

Moon threw her arms up “How is that her fault? What did she do, have boobs, and that ruined their friendship?! Maybe if men could control their desire to want to fuck every woman they see this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You don’t get it”

Moon very frustratingly rubbed her forehead “No. You don’t get it. Look, Simon does nothing, he just sits there and watches. How can that be Yoko’s fault?”

Kevin crossed his arms and turned back to the screen. Moon got up and began to walk out. Before she left the theater she stopped and looked at Kevin for a minute. Kevin noticed and adjusted himself to be facing away from her. “Just leave. I don’t want to talk to you” She sighed as she walked out of the theater, rubbing her eyes.