#but all of them took a lot of time and effort

[birumination]

Mira x Rumi x Zoey HCs

Mira and Zoey both knew they were sapphic prior to forming HUNTR/X, but Rumi had never considered the possibility.

Which means it took them ages to actually confess to one another! Mira didn't want to mess up their friendship or make things weird, Zoey was afraid to make the others uncomfortable, and Rumi thought it was platonic to constantly admire them.

None of them made the first move. It was actually Bobby, who mistakenly booked them for a romantic resort on a rare weekend off, and when the girls came back in a relationship, he assumed it was just a really good vacation. To this day, he doesn't know about the heart-shaped bed or rose petals, and the girls still think he set them up on purpose.

On that note, it takes like six months for Bobby to clock that they're all together, and even then, only because he walked in on them.

They usually sleep in a spoon-train, but they rotate the positions regularly. Mira's needs to hold them both so she knows they're not leaving? Big spoon! Rumi needs to feel like she can easily jump out of bed and fight? Little spoon! Zoey needs to be touching as much as possible so she feels wanted? Middle spoon! If they're exhausted enough, they just collapse into bed in a tangle of limbs, though.

Rumi and Zoey going with Mira to get a tattoo. Much to consider.

Zoey's not just a lyricist, she's a poet. She's super effusive with her words and constantly finds new ways to express how much she loves them, and it still never feels like enough.

Rumi plans all of their dates, mostly because she plans them all so far in advance that Mira and Zoey don't get the chance. They do surprise her from time to time but it takes a lot of effort. And sometimes Bobby's help.

Mira is their scary dog privilege. It's not that Rumi and Zoey can't defend themselves, because they *definitely* can, but her death stare has been known to head off creeps before they ever get the chance to start in.

[shaunamilfman]

wicked and weary [2]

Pairing: Jackie Taylor x f!r x Shauna Shipman Summary: Jackie's getting a little too far into investigative journalism. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Shauna has opinions about it. Someone from your past makes a visit. note: minors dni. warning for graphic descriptions of violence and probably smut in the series in general Masterlist

“Why are Melissa, the girl from my group project last semester, Taissa, that boy Shauna almost hit with her car last week, and Sarah Michelle Gellar all suspects?” You ask exasperatedly, looking over Jackie’s shoulder as she writes out what you’re reluctant to consider notes. There are other names that you don’t recognize that you’re sure Jackie has some kind of twisted logic behind. This really wasn’t what you were expecting to come back from class to.

Jackie certainly doesn’t have the same qualms about it, with the word “murder” written across the top of the paper in pink glitter pen surrounded by swirling lines of calligraphy. Then there are the hearts, the knives, the question marks, a man in a cartoonish ski mask, and something that looks suspiciously like Shauna’s car with a blocky stick figure jumping out of the way. You think she put more effort into the heading than anything else so far.

Her dedication to justice might be impressive if you didn’t know the sole cause for it was her reluctance to actually study for her exam. Sure, you’ve been there, but it was a strange thing to procrastinate on if you do say so yourself. She really would do anything to avoid propping open her textbook. It’s been sitting on her desk doing nothing but collecting dust for days. Hell, she’s even started to use it as a coaster.

“They’re all plotting against me,” Jackie says seriously, leaning back in her chair so she can rest her head comfortably against your stomach as she looks up at you. She smiles as you grab her chin and lean down to kiss her gently, the kind of affection you always save for her most ridiculous moments. You can’t help how cute she looks utterly insane.

“You’re still that mad at Sarah—”

“She shouldn’t look like that in a movie my girlfriends see.”

“She looks like that all the time,” Shauna argues from her desk, her voice full of wicked amusement as she looks over her assigned readings. You know she doesn’t actually care about the whole thing—she had gotten in trouble over the same movie, after all—but she took a lot of enjoyment from making Jackie jealous. Shauna didn’t take nearly as much enjoyment in being jealous herself. 

Go figure.

“What does that have to do with your professor?” You ask.

“She’s probably killed professors in, like, three different movies by now.”

“And Melissa?”

“She’s plotting something,” Jackie says, circling her name three times and drawing devil horns around it. Shauna makes a noise that sounds like an agreement.

“She can’t even plot her way around an essay,” you mutter, earning a snort of laughter from Shauna.

“That’s what she wants you to think,” Shauna says darkly.

“Taissa’s also a suspect,” you remind her. You think that might have slipped her mind during the conversation.

Shauna whirls around in her chair to look at you. “Taissa?” She doesn’t even bother to hide her disbelief. “Taissa murdered your professor, Jackie, really?”

“She’s shady,” Jackie defends.

“You’re just jealous,” you argue back, but Jackie quickly shakes her head as she points to other names on the list as if to prove otherwise. “Jackie, these are just people who wear hoodies.”

If the murder got solved, it definitely wouldn’t be thanks to Jackie. She really ought to stick to committing murders rather than trying to solve them. You really don’t understand her sometimes. Jackie came up with such elaborate plans to set other people up for your murders, manipulated you for months until you fell in love with her, and then she does this. She must be bored, you decide. Maybe you could find someone to kill a town over for her.

You haven’t taken them out recently enough.

The three of you had left Ghostface behind in Wiskayok, but you couldn’t quite kick the urge one way or another. Maybe you might’ve been able to push it down enough to go on functioning in a normal society, content with the monotony of grocery stores, office jobs, and taxes. Never wanting for the familiar feeling of your fingers curling around that handle, but your girlfriends certainly couldn’t. 

Not Shauna and the constant thirst for violence lying just beneath the surface, barely hidden behind the veneer of civility she wore so well. Quiet and bookish—the last one you would ever suspect. Thumbing through paperback classics with a thoughtfulness that disguised her wandering thoughts about gutting the man sitting in the corner of the library whose eyes had lingered on you for a moment too long. You caught glimpses of it if you knew where to look, but few bothered to look past the surface when it came to Shauna. They mistook her soft voice and the journal constantly beneath her fingertips for a harmlessness that was never there.

Then there was Jackie. Sweet, innocent Jackie. Sure, she could play mean girl with the best of them, but she rarely bothered unless it was in defense of the two of you. Jackie was soft, delightfully so, the girl that everyone adored even when they didn’t want to. Shauna was proof enough of that. She understood better than anyone how to pull someone in, to make them feel comfortable and safe right before she sunk the knife firmly between their ribs. You never saw her coming until it was too late, and sometimes even then you didn’t want to believe it. Jackie’s desires lay hidden, but never dormant. She loves to lay a trap that you don’t realize you’re stepping into until it’s gone off.

As a girlfriend and as a killer.

So every so often you find someone in the wrong place at the wrong time a few towns over. Someone you can justify killing. Maybe they bumped into Shauna hard enough to send her stumbling and didn’t say sorry, or maybe they snuck a glance down the V of Jackie’s shirt. You didn’t care much about the morality of it all, but you liked having a reason for it. When either of them brought you out for it, they didn’t seem to have one, but you didn’t mind when they were the ones choosing. You think they might like that a bit more. The senselessness of it all. Whatever made your girlfriends happy, after all.

And, truthfully, you enjoyed raking in the rewards they gave you after. Maybe reward wasn’t the best choice of words, given how bruised up they left you afterwards as a result of their excitement, but the bone-deep exhaustion you felt afterward felt like a victory.

The thought was exciting enough that you silently swore to yourself that you would be taking them out soon to blow off some steam. Maybe it would help Jackie calm down a little, with how worked up she’s gotten over her professor’s death. It’s not like she really cares about him at all, but it was close enough to home that she couldn’t help but be a little interested in it. An excuse to avoid studying or not, she was a little too interested in the whole thing for you to be comfortable ignoring it.

“Well,” Shauna muses, slowly crossing the room to take the spot next to you. She leans down, one arm over Jackie’s shoulder to rest against the desk. “You’ve certainly written a bunch of names down.”

She’s no help.

You give up, walking off to flop down on your bed with a groan.

…

“Shut up,” you mutter, nudging Shauna’s shoulder with your own as you walk beside her. Shauna has been toeing the line of being too smug or too stuck in her head all day, bouncing back and forth like a pinball. It's driving you nuts, but that's Shauna for you. 

She’s smirking back at you, meeting your eyes without a hint of shame. The look on her face was pure mischief, nothing like the threatening smirk you’ve seen before. Either way, you can’t help the way your pulse picks up.

“Why should I?” It’s as much an invitation as it is a question.

You roll your eyes, but the way her eyes linger on your lips is enough to make you reconsider being annoyed. Shauna bumps your shoulder with hers this time, just hard enough to be goading as she waits for your reaction with an air of excitement. You almost groan aloud, just barely managing to hold it back. Daring you to push back or give in. Either would serve her purposes.

It was inevitable that Shauna would end up in one of her little moods, especially with how busy Jackie’s been lately investigating the murder. Shauna never took well to Jackie paying anyone but her attention at the best of times—sometimes even getting upset when she thinks that Jackie’s been kissing you longer than her—so watching Jackie spend so much time on someone else’s kill has been driving her insane.

You were the one left to deal with the fallout of that one, the bruises she's left across your body a testament to that fact. Someone should really start making Shauna jealous more often, actually. Shauna was never more alive than when she was slowly unraveling because someone or something had dared to take up your attention.

You’ve caught her sullenly writing in her journal more times than Shauna would care to admit lately, glaring at an unaware Jackie out of the corner of her eyes. Even if Jackie found out who had killed her professor, there was a growing certainty in your heart that Shauna would kill them before Jackie even got the chance to decide what she wanted to do with the information. Not that you would stop her.

Especially not when she grabs your arm, yanking you clean off the sidewalk and down one of the maintenance roads behind a building. She's on you before you even think to ask her what she's doing. 

“Are you going to tell me to shut up again?” Shauna asks, her voice low as she presses you back against the wall behind you. You glance around absently to assure yourself that no one's watching, but you don’t believe you would’ve stopped even if there had been someone looking back at you.

“I might,” you say, reaching up and tangling your fingers in her hair. She gasps as you pull down, arching her head back as you lean in to nip at her throat. “Depends on what you say next.”

Shauna scoffs, a breathless noise that doesn’t stop her from pressing you more firmly against the wall.

“You get flustered so easily,” you accuse, tugging harder at Shauna’s resulting dismissal. It’s not like it’s a lie, not with the flush creeping up the back of her neck no matter how hard she would like to pretend otherwise. 

“Do not,” she mutters, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling your hand out of her hair. 

You let the strands slide through your fingers regretfully, only to quickly be soothed by the press of her lips against one of your fingertips. It brings a pleased smile to your face as you lean forward, but Shauna quickly puts an end to that with a firm hand pressed against your sternum. Her fingers glide across your skin on the way to your neck, fingers curled loosely over your throat just long enough to be a threat before she tilts your chin up and to the side as she leans in closer.

Shauna’s other hand lies heavily on your shoulder, her palm pressing into those initials carved into your skin like they could save her. That might be Shauna’s favorite part of you, her favorite mark she’s left you with, and there were many to choose from. 

Most of them hers. 

“Shauna,” you say softly as she mouths at a mark Jackie had left just below the collar of your shirt. She's insistent, like she could overwrite it if she just tried hard enough. She was more annoyed at Jackie than you realized if this was what she was resorting to. “We shouldn't…” 

“Shut up,” she quotes back mockingly, barely letting the words pass her lips before there's a piercing, sucking pain as she latches on top of already sore skin like she's trying to draw blood. 

Your little vampire is on another mission. The thought seems fitting: she does love to bite. 

No sooner does the thought cross your mind than Shauna's teeth sink into your skin, just deep enough to make you cry out as you clutch at her shoulders. Your eyes fly open in shock, just long enough to catch what you momentarily swear was a flutter of movement just out of the corner of your eye before you dismiss it. 

You push Shauna back, sending her stumbling back in shocked anger. She lurches back toward you, hands braced on either side of your body as she stares you down intently. Whatever she finds is enough to have her backing down, her arms falling limply to her sides as she huffs irritably. 

“Boring,” she accuses, trying not to sound as disappointed as she feels. She seems mollified by the way you wince when you adjust your shirt to cover that bite mark she's left you with. Proof that she's left yet another undeniable claim on you. 

“Weren't you the one who wanted to go find Jackie?”

“You distracted me.” Like it was your fault. 

“I'm not the one with an attitude. She can probably hear your skulking a mile away.”

“I don't have—” Shauna gives up denying it halfway through and changes gears when she realizes it isn't worth it to lie. “Why does she care about that loser anyway? Killed her professor, and they couldn't even be original about it. I did it first.”

“I know, Shauna,” you say dryly, reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder. 

“Don't patronize me. I'm not your problem.” She doesn't try to shrug your hand off. 

“You're always my problem.” You cup her chin, forcing her to look you in the eyes as she frowns back at you. “Just like Jackie running around playing detective is my problem too.” 

“Don't sound so pleased,” Shauna mutters, a smile on her lips small enough that she still has room to deny it. It's always a pleasure to see the way such a simple twitch of her lips can light up her whole demeanor, from the broody girl in the corner of the room to something only you and Jackie recognize. 

“Jackie's just bored,” you say, resting your hand on the back of Shauna's neck as you play with the little hairs there. Shauna shivers at the touch before leaning into it, her palms resting on your hips as she buries her head into your shoulder and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. “She'll get over it soon.” 

“She'd better.” Shauna starts to pull out of your grasp, not out of irritation but out of a restlessness born of uncertainty. 

She can't stand being made to question her place in anything. Jackie was always so certain of that kind of thing, so sure. Shauna was the one you had to reassure. She adjusts the way her flannel sits against her neck. An anxious tick that ends with her holding tightly to the end of her sleeves as she pulls them taut. 

“You know how she gets. Anything to avoid studying.” 

“I don't… like this,” She says it slowly, meaningfully. You're sure Shauna thinks this is her being emotional. Whatever, as long as she's trying to express something. It's more than you've gotten out of her all week. 

“Because she's been busy or because it's someone else's handiwork?” You can almost hear her big brain working as she considers the question. 

“Both,” she says finally. “But mostly the second.” 

Leave it to Shauna to resent not having the sharpest knife in the room. 

“She wasn't impressed about the whole thing,” you offer hopefully. 

“Yeah, well, she shouldn't be anything. I don't like the way she looks at that stupid board.”

“She’s excited. It’s been a while since she had a puzzle like that.”

“It's not a game,” Shauna insists. “And she's too excited.”

“Jackie always comes back after she's done chasing her lead.” 

The chase was half the fun for her. Slowly mapping out where a target would be before you or Shauna even knew who she chose. There's been one too many trips to the mall that suddenly turned into something more. You were sure Jackie was planning on presenting whoever it was to Shauna as a gift, but you were less and less sure that Shauna could make it that long without snapping. The girl was already running on fumes, and it's only been a few days. 

“Until she doesn't.” 

Your eyes widen. Shit. She was serious. “Shauna—” 

“Don't Shauna me. This feels different, and you know it. I'm not going to sit here while she chases them around.”

“You're going to… what?” You ask exasperatedly. “Beat her to it? Kill them first?”

“If I have to,” Shauna says defensively. “First, we're taking her home. She's been out all day. She woke up before us. Before us.”

“You know how she'll be…” You're starting to dread getting out of bed this morning. Here you were, stuck between a knife and a hard place. 

“Well, she should've thought about that before—” 

“She's not replacing us,” you interrupt, watching as Shauna practically deflates at the words. 

Her eyes dart around guiltily, refusing to meet your own. 

“It doesn't matter. Not as long as she keeps chasing around someone that isn't us.”

“She's trying to protect us, Shauna. In her own way. You know that.”

“Maybe you need protecting, but I don't. I can take care of myself.”

“Shauna,” you murmur. 

Shauna turns around and marches back to the sidewalk like you hadn't even spoken. 

That went well. 

You rush after her to catch up, slowing down only to match her brisk pace as she storms off toward a more populated part of campus. This was normally where you'd start talking about something you learned in class if only to fill the silence, but you half expect that Shauna would bite your head off for it. 

The silence lingers, heavy enough to be uncomfortable, a stark reflection of the companionable stroll you'd shared up until the alley. You can feel the way Shauna keeps looking over at you, almost willing you to speak so much that she doesn't have to dwell on why you aren't. 

“Careful,” Shauna says gruffly, grabbing your arm and keeping you upright as the toe of your shoe catches an uneven patch of concrete and sends you stumbling forward. She squeezes your arm firmly before dropping it again. 

The closest you would be getting to an apology. You look up to thank her, only to finally find what you've been looking for. 

“Well,” you say, nudging Shauna. “There she is.” 

Shauna stops on a dime, jaw tensing as she catches sight of Jackie cornered by a familiar-looking reporter about the same time Jackie catches sight of the two of you. 

Jackie shot the reporter a smile. The smile. The one she saved for people she didn't want to talk to but was too polite to say otherwise. Or maybe just too worried about the kind of rumors that seeming unwilling to talk to local press could bring. It wasn't like the three of you could afford bad press at the moment. 

Someone really ought to tell Shauna Shipman that. 

She storms over there like someone lit a fire under her ass, and you can already see the headlines now. 

Wiskayok Survivor Gone Rogue? 

Or something equally stupid. The campus paper wasn't exactly known for its contributions to literature. Or the truth. What it did have was alliteration. 

Wiskayok Woman: A Walking Warning? 

Maybe that one. Either way, Shauna was going to end up on the front page of the campus paper by the morning if you didn't stop her. That's if she was lucky. You remember seeing this woman sneaking around Wiskayok a few years ago. She was probably national news. You walk after Shauna faster.

You realize where you remember her from now: she was that idiot writing that book about how Travis was innocent. Her name was Stormy Winds or something equally ironic. You remember how much it cracked Shauna up every time she announced herself as she ran after you trying to get an interview in high school.

She was right, of course, but it pissed Jackie off to have her master plan questioned in such a public manner. Shauna would've made that connection before you, which was probably what set her off so fast in the first place. 

The day kept getting longer. 

The look of barely hidden relief on Jackie's face as you made your way over was enough for it to be worth it. You'll have to wait until later to grill her on where she was all day and what put that pinched look you saw earlier on her face. 

Stormy pushes past Jackie like last week's news the second you get close enough for her to make out your face in the crowd, snapping her fingers at the reluctant-looking cameraman behind her to follow her as she pushes her way past. Jackie follows quickly behind through the hole they made through the crowd, unsure whether to be relieved or offended as she slips her way behind Shauna.

The look on her face is calculating as she watches Stormy set up another intro on the fly, mirrored by the look Stormy’s giving you even as she gives you that patented fake smile. You have enough experience catching it on the news before she verbally decimates someone to know not to trust it, and that’s without the unfortunate experience of being on the other side of it more than once.

You weren’t aware that whatever was going on with the copycat killing was enough to bring Stormy Winds all the way back to New Jersey. She seemed like she had more than enough of the state that last time you saw her following Travis’s sentencing. There has to be more going on here than you knew about. Probably something to do with whatever was keeping Jackie acting like she was on the run from the law all day.

See, Jackie? This is why you share information instead of gallivanting off on your own. This was usually a Shauna problem. Now you’re being hounded on all sides.

“This is Stormy Winds, coming to you from the site of yet another gruesome murder by Ghostface, the killer that claimed ten victims back in Wiskayok only two years ago.”

Had they really killed ten people? You hadn’t realized how busy they were at the time.

“The supposed killer, Travis Martinez, is still locked away in prison for the most recent murders…” Stormy continues.

Murders? Shit. There’s been another one? That answers the question of why Jackie’s been MIA all day, at least. If only that felt like a comfort right now.

“…which raises the question: is this a copycat, or is an innocent man locked away?” Stormy raises the microphone over to your face as the cameraman steps closer to frame you in view, that smug little grin on her face that you so wanted to smack off of it. “Y/N L/N, as the previous number one suspect and as a student at the university where these new murders are now occurring, what do you think about it all?”

Oh, that’s where this is going. 

You were probably asking too much by expecting to make your way out of this unscathed. Out of all the stupid things your girlfriends have done over the years, killing exclusively people you knew to set you up as some misguided form of affection has to be the worst of it. It’s still coming back to bite you all these years later.

“I’m surprised you’re asking me my opinion instead of calling me a liar in the press,” you say simply. Shauna grins sharply.

“I think you got the wrong guy,” Stormy shoots back, eyes narrowing as she looks at you.

“I didn’t get anyone. I wasn’t even at that party.”

“And how interesting was that. Since all my sources confirm you were present at another party where—”

“Why are you, like, obsessed with her?” Jackie butts in, head carefully tilted to the side in an expression of confusion. There’s a swell of laughter through the crowd that clearly puts Stormy on edge.

“Why are you so unconcerned about the fact that your little friend here got away with murd–” Stormy trails off with a shriek as someone lunges toward her, held back only by Jackie grabbing onto Shauna’s waist before she could make contact.

Shauna keeps struggling long enough for the source of the resistance to click in her head before she moodily goes limp and lets herself be pushed away. She glares weakly at the two of you and then seriously at the suddenly too smug reporter who brushes imaginary lint off of her collar. Like she didn’t just scream her head off.

You exchange a quick look with Jackie before striking, your fist reaching the reporter's face just moments after Jackie's jacket lands over the lens of the camera. Stormy all but collapses back into the van, her hand flying up to her bruised cheek just in time for the cameraman to toss Jackie's jacket to the ground. 

She looks more pissed at the cameraman for failing to catch it than she does at you for punching her in the first place. You would respect her dedication to her job if it didn't just involve harassing your girlfriend. Anything that involved one of your girlfriends and other people rarely went well. Sometimes you wish you could just lock them in the dorm room forever, but you think that might be Shauna's influence talking through you. 

It would've been quite a shot to get you swinging at her, given your former status as a suspect in the original murders. Especially with how many snotty campus rumors you've heard regarding how the copycat was probably one of the original survivors. 

Not that that theory meant much, given how your whole fucking high school soccer team seems to go here. Didn't narrow the suspect list much, did it? You were secretly quite pleased at how many people seemed to suspect Misty of being the new Ghostface. 

It was a little too obvious for your taste, but there would be something quite satisfying about being able to get rid of her without risking casting suspicion on yourself. That was the biggest problem with this whole thing: the blame it cast back toward you. 

Any other serial killer on this campus, and the three of you would've had a blast reveling in that terror again. Maybe you could've even committed a few murders yourselves and passed the blame on to the other guy. Would've been an easy way to take out Misty. Everyone could've been happy. 

At the very least Shauna would've had a blast, and if Shauna was happy, you and Jackie usually followed. The reverse was even more true. 

Jackie grabs you by the hand and pulls you back from the reporter just as easily as she had just pulled Shauna away, tapping into that superhuman strength she possessed only long enough to boss you around. 

“Who died?” You ask, waiting until you got far enough from the crowd to not be overheard.

There’s a contemplative yet grim determination on Jackie’s face as she answers, “My TA.”

Another person Jackie knows. You don’t like the way that makes you feel.

…

“Hey, so,” Melissa says suddenly, her smile faltering at the way you flinch at the interruption.

She doesn't seem to be put off at all by the strained smile you give back as you tear your eyes away from her mess of an essay. You're not sure that she could have written a worse paper had she actually sat down and done it on purpose. They really just pass everyone these days, huh? 

“I saw your interview,” she continues, undaunted. That confidence of hers can really come out of nowhere sometimes. She could go from chicken shit to in your face at the drop of a hat. Quite literally, sometimes. “Maybe interview isn't the right word. Uh… I saw you on TV. That was, like, so lame of her.”

“Yeah, Melissa,” you say, sitting back in your uncomfortable chair in the corner of the library near the information desk. It was the only table open when you came in a few hours ago, but now you were left awkwardly secluded sitting across from Melissa while everyone else had the sense to claim a table by the windows where the lights from the street made everything look a little less creepy murder house.

“Stormy is so stupid.” Melissa leans forward, a hand cupping the side of her mouth like it was top secret. “I heard she tried to dial 911 on a calculator.”

You laugh at the snide comment, mostly just because it reminds you a little of Shauna. If she was just a little nicer. A lot nicer. It immediately becomes apparent that it was a moment of weakness that Melissa was keen to jump on as she leans even closer with a dumb little smile on her face. You lean back.

“I just wanted to say that I believe you. I know you wouldn't kill those people.”

“…Thank you?” you offer, flipping back to the paper you were working on and circling a run-on sentence. Some half-baked argument that completely missed the point of the entire assignment. The kind of thing that tries to be profound but mostly just screams I watched the movie instead.

Maybe if you just start looking at your work again, she’ll give up. It’s not that you don’t like Melissa. It’s just that you were wasting precious girlfriend time to be here to help her with the paper that she keeps dragging out.

“Or those other people,” she rushes to add after barely a breath. 

Her confidence in you was endless. Maybe she wasn’t that good of a judge of character.

“Thanks, Melissa,” you say again. More pointedly this time. 

If she was going to say something else, you’ll never know, as the relative silence of the room was broken up by a sudden ringing of a telephone. It doesn’t take long to find the source: a phone at the front desk ringing off the hook. An exaggeration, maybe, but compared to the rest of the library, it sounds deafening. There’s a choir of complaints throughout the room, but no one seems to want to get up and actually do anything about it.

You’re willing to just ignore it when it rings the first time. After all, it’s not like it’s your job to answer the phones. Someone was getting paid for that, even if they seemed to be off hiding in the stacks somewhere doing who knows what. Either way, the call went straight to the machine. You shake your head as you flip to the next page.

You’re willing to ignore it when it rings the second time, even as it brings an even louder round of complaints. It goes to the machine again, and you hope they’ll just eat it this time. Something tells you that you won’t be that lucky.

You’re not willing to ignore it when it rings the third time

You eye Melissa curiously, who just shrugs, tapping her pencil against the desk as she turns her attention back to her textbook. The one time that girl was committed to learning. Utterly useless. You huff, taking in deep breaths as you remind yourself that Melissa wasn't what was making you mad. 

Another shrill ring from the unanswered phone is enough to have you shooting up out of your seat with enough force to send it careening back and to the ground, the wooden back slamming against the floor loud enough to draw a few eyes. Now they wanted to pay attention. It was even enough to draw Melissa back from her textbook, her eyes flicking from the upturned chair back to the annoyed look on your face in rapid succession before she suddenly found her textbook even more interesting than before. 

Your footsteps almost echo in the nearly silent library as you walk over to the front desk, picking the phone off the receiver. Didn't students get paid to man this desk? 

“Hello?” You ask irritably. 

“Hello.” 

Your whole body tenses at the familiar voice, your blood running ice cold. You knew that stupid fucking voice modulator better than almost anyone else. That's why it was so terrifying to hear it now. The voice had never made the papers. Why would it? The three of you were the only ones to ever hear that voice and live. 

So how did… 

“Who is this?” You ask stupidly. You wince as the words leave your mouth, feeling like one of those stupid girls in horror movies that exist only to die and make Shauna laugh. 

A laugh on the other end of the line, sickeningly cold in the tone of that voice. You don't think it's ever struck fear in you like this before. How could it, knowing that it usually belonged to one of your girls? 

“What's your—” 

You slam the phone back down on the receiver, clutching onto the desk with all your strength just to hear the way the cheap wood protests beneath your touch. The sound of footsteps approaching has you whirling around, hardly believing someone could be bold enough to attack you in the middle of a crowded library. They had guts, whoever they were. 

It wasn't until a quiet moan escapes your assailant as you slam them back against the opposite wall that you realize who it is. Jackie watches you with wide eyes, surprise evident on her face even as blown pupils stared back at you. She licks her lips absently, pushing against the forearm pressed to her throat with reluctance as she looks around at all the attention you've garnered from the other patrons. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, patting Jackie awkwardly on the shoulder in lieu of what you really wanted to do. First, check her for injuries from your unintended rough handling, and then maybe dig your fingers in to make them last longer. 

When you pull yourself together enough to look around, the first person you see is Melissa staring back at you with a faint flush on her cheeks before clearing her throat and packing up her things. Another look at Jackie has you pulling her by the hand back to your table to do the same. 

Jackie's uncharacteristically silent as she watches you shove your things back in your bag, not even sparing a departing Melissa a glance as she waves goodbye to the two of you and awkwardly retreats. 

“Spooked?” Jackie asks quietly, squeezing your hand gently as she leads you out.

“Something like that,” you confirm, not wanting to say anything more due to your awareness of lingering eyes. 

“Me too. I wanted to convince you to come back, but it didn't seem to take much.” Jackie huffs. “I even wore that low cut shirt you like…”

You've noticed. Especially when you'd had her pressed up against the wall, ready to knock some sense into your perceived caller. 

“Shauna not enough for you tonight? Had to come get me from the library?” You joke, trying for some semblance of normality after that weird fucking phone call in the library. How could they even have known to do that, and to you of all people? The whole thing was more threatening to your continued anonymity than you thought it would be.

Shauna was going to go postal. You can’t wait for it. Watching her lose her cool might distract you from how badly your hands were shaking when you hung up that phone. No one could afford for you to start freaking out right now, especially not Jackie. If you start freaking out, Jackie’s going to start freaking out twice as hard.

“Well, you know…” Jackie trails off playfully as she traces your hand with her thumb before turning serious. “I don’t think it’s safe for us to be apart right now. I know it’s dumb, but I just want us all to be home. Three of us are better than one, right?”

She leaves a moment for you to laugh and seems surprised when you don’t. Her brow twitches. Before her lips can curve into something a little more manipulative, you say, “I got a call at the library.”

Her eyes narrow. Uh oh. “Since when do you have a cell phone?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, trying not to crack up out of stress. Of course that’s where her mind would go. “I don’t, Jackie. Seriously?”

She just shrugs like she still hasn’t ruled you out as a suspect.

“It was for me. Like the ones you used to make.”

“How?” Jackie asks. slow and careful. “Wait, with the voice?”

“The voice,” you confirm.

“I don’t understand.” Her voice gets higher as she continues, “How would they even know to call you?”

“That interview, maybe?”

Jackie makes a face like she just ate something unpleasant.

“Stormy Winds,” she mutters under her breath. “Still. Have fun telling Shauna.”

You should have known she was going to leave that up to you. Maybe Jackie wore her out enough that she would be asleep by the time you got back to the dorms, but you’re never that lucky.

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 14

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: You will never believe this: I finished this fic. It only took me 2 years. To everyone who has stuck with me since part 1 and still comes back to read these updates, thank you. To everyone who found it somewhere in the middle and still read it, thank you. To everyone who is just finding it now, lucky you. I hope you enjoy the ending! I'm excited to put this fic to bed.

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, mentions of abuse, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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previous part | series masterlist

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“It’s over. I’ve got you,” Bucky whispers calmingly, his eyes fixed on the dead man in front of him whose head has been bashed in. Bucky lets his hand cradle your head, soothingly petting your hair while he coos at you, trying to calm you. He closes his eyes, still holding you, and tries to get the gruesome image of Frost’s brains painted across the floor out of his head.

—

A high pitched, constant, obnoxious beeping noise permeates through the room, grating against your nerves. Slowly, you attempt to peel your eyes open, but as you do, you realize your eyelids feel incredibly heavy. With great effort, you manage to open your eyes, only to be met with a room too bright for comfort. Letting your eyes adjust, you take in the room: A sterile, bright, white room. Around the room sits various monitors tracking vitals, a small tray table with a large hospital jug of water, and a counter full of medical supplies. As your foggy mind clears, you realize you’re lying in a hospital bed, and to your right is an empty chair. You frown. How did you get here?

Groaning, you try and sit up, but you feel a sharp pain shoot through your abdomen, and you’re slowly becoming aware of the dull, constant ache in your head. Frowning, you let your fingers trace up your arm until you find the IVs that have made a home there. You yank out the IVs with a pained grunt and let your hand move up to hold your aching head. Seriously, you think, what the fuck? After taking a moment, you find a few more cords that have been attached to you: sensors stuck at pulse points and whatnot. You rip them off and throw your legs over the side of the bed, hoping you can get out of here and find someone to give you some answers. However, once you rip the rest of the wires off of your body, the machines in the room start screaming in protest, alerting whatever nearby medical team that there is that something is wrong. You’ve just set your bare feet on the cold tile floor when a familiar doctor rushes in.

Dr. Cho is wide-eyed and winded when she runs into the room. She quickly takes in the sight before her: A formerly sleeping patient attempting to make a run for it. Dr. Cho sighs heavily before stepping into the room calmly and letting the door shut behind her. Her gentle and practiced hands find your shoulder and gently pushes, forcing you to lie back. Confused and in a startled daze, you don’t protest as she guides you to lie down.

Cho says your name gently. “You shouldn’t be rushing out of here,” she says. “You have extensive internal injuries: a lot of bruising. You experienced some serious trauma out there.” You nod distractedly, your mind racing to put the new information into its place in the puzzle that is your situation since waking up.

“What happened?” You ask, eyes lifting to meet her kind, concerned ones.

“A lot,” she informs. “You fainted after Barnes got you out of that HYDRA base, and you’ve been out like a light since. You have some pretty serious bruising on your wrists and ankles, and you experienced some serious trauma from the electric shocks–especially to the head.” She begins to assess your injuries, pressing her fingers into different places on your abdomen and observing your bruising. She finally nods to herself and picks up a tablet from the counter and types in some notes.

“Now that you’re awake, we will need to call in a psychiatrist to check out your mental health. The kind of trauma you went through certainly warrants it.” You only nod in response.

“What about Bucky? Is he okay?” You ask. Cho gives you a warm and understanding smile and nods.

“He’s fine. Had a few scrapes and bruises here and there, but it’s absolutely nothing the serum won’t fix right up.” You nod.

“And Becca?” 

“She’s fine. She’s been in with Bucky to visit you a few times, but she’s right as rain.”

You let out a relieved breath. “How long was I out?”

“About a week. Like I said, the electrocution was a severe trauma. Could have killed you, but you were lucky.”

—

You are required to sit through an extensive psych evaluation before you’re finally discharged. The psychiatrist diagnoses you with severe PTSD, explaining that the trauma from being kidnapped, the forced work for HYDRA, and the murder of Frost had deeply affected you in ways that would likely show itself for a long time. He explains that it’s likely you continue to have nightmares and lash out against people who get to close, and he assures you that depressive episodes are to be expected. He takes care suggest (demand, really) that you begin weekly therapy and prescribes a couple medications. You take all he has to say with a disengaged nod.

—

After a very long day of medical checkups (both physical and mental), you’re exhausted. All you want to do is go home, put on clothes more comfortable than what the medical ward gave you, and lie down in your bed. When you’re released, you walk out of the last room you’d been in, wearing some scrubs that someone found you, and let out a relieved sigh, thankful just to leave the medical ward. As soon as you walk through the door, you are met with the sight of your husband and daughter waiting for you. Becca is teetering back and forth on her heels, clearly full of excitement. Bucky is smiling softly at you.

“There she is! Free at last,” Bucky says. Becca squeals and runs towards you. You notice Bucky’s eyes widen a bit and he reaches out to stop her, but the little girl is too fast and slides right by him. You know he isn’t sure if you’re willing to see her yet–frankly, you weren’t sure until you saw her–but for the first time in months, you don’t feel the guilty twist of a knife when you see her. For the first time in months, you feel as if you’re worthy of seeing your daughter. For the first time in months, you feel like you might deserve the smiles, the laughter, and the crushing bear hugs that your daughter feels inclined to bestow upon you. For the first time in months, you let your daughter near you, and just seeing her run towards you fills you with a peace that you’ve been missing for a long, long time.

“MAMA!” Becca screams, barreling towards you. You drop to your knees and hold your arms out for her, catching her with a grunt as her weight comes into contact with your bruised and sore body.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you breathe, pressing a soft kiss to her head and burying your nose in her hair. You breathe in your daughter with a shaky breath. You’d missed her more than anyone could ever know, even if the reason you hadn’t seen her had everything to do with you avoiding her.

“Mama, I missed you,” she says.

“I missed you, too, baby.”

Bucky is watching the whole interaction with a relieved smile on his face. It’s been months since you’ve held your daughter, and it’s clear that you needed her more than you’d let on. Bucky takes a couple steps closer as you start to pull away, holding Becca at arms length while you get a good look at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell her. “I think you’ve grown a bit!” You place your hand flat on her head as if you’re measuring her. She giggles.

“I did! Daddy says I’m 38 inches! We measured on the wall,” Becca informs you with a wide, toothy grin.

“That so?” You laugh with a smile that could rival hers. Finally, you stand, ruffling your daughter’s hair as you do. You turn to Bucky and smile a little bashfully. He returns the smile and swings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. He nuzzles his face into your hair and plants a loving kiss there.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers. “Gave me quite the scare.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, hiding your head into his chest.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re alright. We can just work on moving on now.” His promise finds a home somewhere deep in your chest, and for the first time in a very long time, you feel okay.

—

Steve calls an emergency meeting to fill you in on what had gone down since you’d been out. The team files into the same conference room that each piece of this disaster had taken place in. The last time you’d been in this room, you had stood in the corner, arms crossed, glaring at everyone. This time, you sit in a chair at the table next to your husband with your 4 year old in your lap. Steve keeps the meeting brief, and you know everyone is just glad to see you back to your relatively normal self.

—

It has been 2 years since the last time you stepped foot in this park. The last time you’d stepped foot into this park, you and your daughter had been kidnapped by a megalomaniac Nazi obsessed with bringing HYDRA back from the dead, so you’d made a point to avoid it. However, your therapist argues that it’s good to visit traumatic places to help you move on if you have a strong support system with you, so when Bucky informed you that he was taking Becca to the park today, you inhaled a large breath before letting it out slowly and volunteering to come, too. After all, you’d thought,, I can’t avoid parks forever.

So, now you’re strolling through the park with your hand tightly held onto by Bucky’s. You let your arms swing playfully between you two as you watch Becca run ahead of you and occasionally stop to look at a bug or pick up a stick. You ramble about anything and everything with your husband, occasionally interrupting to encourage or tease your 6 year old. It’s genuinely a nice, peaceful time, and you find yourself glad that you pushed yourself to come.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you say softly as you walk, passing a bench that you remember from the day you were taken two years ago. Bucky squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

“I know, but I’m proud of you,” he says.

“Thank you. For everything.” He kisses your forehead as you keep walking.

“I’m never going to let anything happen to you or Bec ever again,” he says softly, and it’s your turn to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“I know, baby.”

Your conversation is suddenly cut short, though, when an excited squeal cuts through the warm, afternoon air. The faint sound of footsteps follows the squeal as Becca comes sprinting towards you and Bucky. You squint your eyes to get a good look at her through the bright sunlight. She’s pumping her arms to run faster and holding an interestingly shaped stick as she does.

“Becca, honey, don’t run with sticks!” You exclaim anxiously, suddenly worried she’ll fall and stab herself with her newfound treasure. She slows to a fast walk as she finds herself right in front of you. She looks up at you with her big, beautiful eyes and grins, holding up her stick for you to see.

“Look what I found!” She exclaims, beaming.

“That’s a cool stick, sweetheart,” Bucky says with an amused smile.

“Daddy!” Becca whines. “It’s not a stick! It’s a sword!” She shares the information as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, rolling her little eyes and frowning at her father’s clear lack of intelligence on the matter. Bucky laughs and lets out a soft, “My bad.” 

“That’s an awesome sword, Bec,” you say with a grin. She smiles wide again and nods her head enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I know! Do you think brother will like it?”

You smile at her, a gentle hand falling to your swollen stomach to hold it. “Yeah, Bec,” you affirm, “I think brother will like it once he’s big enough to hold it!” She nods introspectively, placing a little finger to her chin while she thinks.

“Maybe I should find him a flower instead. Babies can hold flowers.” You laugh and nod, letting her know that might be a better idea. She nods and runs off to drop the stick and look for an acceptable flower. You lean into Bucky then, still holding your stomach protectively, and take in a deep breath, happy, content, and ready to face whatever life has next for you and your little family.

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@just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansource @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom @scatteredstardustt @babysbreathbabes @ordinarylokix @lilstarfish88 @ordelixx @shizukestar @filmsbyblair

[mai505]

Now playing|| Friday I’m in love by The Cure

Favourite Fruit

or: Simon finding comfort through a sweet nurse

The dying cigarette hung from his nimble fingers. Breath cold as he puffed out the acid smoke his lung stinging from the after burn. His eyes flickered as the glass door cracked open with a screech yet he did not bother easing his head at the intruder of his peaceful silence.

“Oh pardon”

The soft voice displayed genuine apologies. This made him turn blocking in her direction he took in the character of his new companion.

Rosy cheeks even rosier lips a black jacket covering the out of place scrubs adoring her body. “ No worries” he coughed out. “ I don’t own this place do I”

His eyes connected once again with trees before him the grey concrete hospital behind it detouring the purity of the nature. Rustling from his left side turned him out as he lifted his head to her. She held a paper cup in her hands he assumed coffee. Caffeine the apparent solution for two hours of sleep between 12 hour shifts.

“Are you a patient” she asked breaking the oh so distant silence he craved right now. Her gaze suspiciously eyed the cigarette hanging between his lips. “ No” he uttered. “Oh you’re visiting?” She questioned cocking her head to the side. He puffed out the smoke filling his lungs as he took his time answering. “Friend got hurt I’m just here to check on him” he explained hoping this would ease her desire for interrogation. “Oh are they fine?” Her eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly. He furrowed his brows only chuckling darkly” he’s a big boy he can handle himself” the childish nickname laced in sarcasm.

She licked her lips only taking a daring sip of the brewing brought before once again placing it next to her, her tongue officially burned now. “ You’d be surprised how many “big boys” make a fuss over a simple injection.”

Her light laugh was enough for him to turn his attention to her. Her laugh was enthralling almost mesmerising. She was pretty. He knew that just like how any red blooded man would objectively judged her appearance. “ Well you must handle them quite well” he grunted out. Interested in the conversation yet not exactly making an effort to show said interest. “ Oh yeah” she huffed” tall strong men just like you coming in yet as soon as they see one syringe they start begging for a different option.” He grinned slightly “ hate to break it to you love but one small needle is not enough to scare me”

She gave him a look. Yet he wasn’t too sure ,if the slight sultry tint in her dark eyes was only his wishing imagination for attention from a beautiful woman or actually just her eyes. “That’s what they all say” she said barely under breath. “So what happend to your friend” she asked. Back to the questions he thought. He liked her more when she was insulting the male ego. “ got shot” he replied bluntly. While he was fully aware she was a civilian yet judging by the pale blue scrubs she clearly was a nurse so dealing with every day horrors were a Tuesday afternoon for her. Just like he suspected she barely showed any reaction” So just men being stupid men” she phrased sarcastically. “ Do you find pleasure in making men seem idiotic” he said this time the one asking the dubious questions. “You do it yourself I just hold up the mirror” she shrugged taking a sip out of the paper cup.

“ He got shot in the line of duty” he added. Finally she reacted yet not the way he hoped. “ what are you police or something” her eyes flickered to his. “ You sure have a lot of questions” he budged. “I’m a curious person what can I say and who knows maybe I’m just trying to socialise” He scoffed at the irony nothing this woman had said in the nimble minded conversation was serious. He knew she wouldn’t let him go the question still playing like fire in her eyes. “Military” he told her. “That’s interesting” she said clearly unaware of the topic of military.

Sure she had seen them on TV some stupid parades yet she wasn’t actually familiar with the military. If you asked her on the spot about it she would probably rant about the Second World War ,eventually dwelling into conspiracy theories of secret CIA missions she had found on one of her late night obsession shows searches.

Her absence of an answer irked him. He barely knew her five minutes yet in the talk entirely she had always answers in more than necessary detail. The silence ate her up as she let her mind wander to how the handsome stranger looked in uniform. “So when do you need to go back to ..” she cleared her throat silently racking her brain for answers” the place?” . That let him let out a small laugh” I don’t need to get back to base until Mactavish is better” Deciding against commenting on the name reveal she nodded understandingly. “ so are you like a general or something” she was painfully unaware. “I’m a lieutenant love” he smiled slightly at her curious gaze. “ is that good?” She asked “ good enough” he answered. Silence one again engulfed them.

“ What’s your favourite fruit” she asked. His brows furrowed at the question pondering whether she was serious or not. “ I don’t know” he muttered “Apple?” “ Oh so you’re painfully boring” she declared. “What that supposed to mean” his eye snapped to hers “ Well isn’t Apple a bit… basic” she questioned. “ Didn’t know a fruit could be considered basic” he took another drag of the cigarette. “ oh no but there’s a psychology behind it” she set the cup aside. “Do tell dear” he smiled irony dripping from his tongue.

“ Apple is something everyone had tried had or at least tasted. We will exclude allergies for this hypothesis.” She explains” but if someone tells you their favourite fruit is something you can’t imagine something you never heard of and have never tried or even something you have never had the pleasure of trying that could only mean they are absolutely exiting as a person right ?” She gazes hopefully at him. With every word he had gotten increasingly concerned not only for her but also his sanity. Had his life really fallen that deep that he now sat here listening to a nurse talk about the psychology of favourite fruits. Well sure his toster was broken and yes he hadn’t visited his apartment in the last six months as his will for life was slowly fading along with the growing winters in Moscow where his latest mission had been. But surely he was still so sane. After realising that the woman was still looking at him as if he would grade her “hypothesis” he shook himself out do the thoughts of his dead toaster.

“ Are you sure you studied nursing?” He broke the tension. Her smile fell.” You’re incredibly rude for someone whose favourite fruit is apple” he stuck out the cigarette next to him slipping the butt into the grass. “ Alright missy then what your favourite fruit?” He got incredibly closer. “Mango” she answers not missing a beat. “And I assume that isn’t considered “basic” he cocked a brow. “Oh no try getting mangos during November I wanna see how far you get without the black market” she countered. “ So unavailability makes it superior” he asked. “ well unavailability always makes something better” his eyes swam” I don’t think I follow”

She once again picked up the cup it seeming more of a disliked toy than actual drink” so you know the saying “you always want what you can’t have”

He nodded is head slightly. “ Well I feel like this is one of those saying where you just always say they are rules of life. “ So people always crave what they can’t have ?” He asked automatically. “Well yes I mean no one is actually always completely happy or not ?” She blinked at him” one always craves more it’s the reason for overconsumption and overspending but I mean that a completely different thing” she chuckled lightly. “And what does the unavailability of mango have to do to with being an exiting person” he asked. His brain screaming at him to stop invoking himself into this conversation. It was an absolute lost case maybe this said a lot about his sanity. Yet he knew right then she was probably someone who spent their time reading philosophy books only to end up overthink their every life existence. She shrugged “ easy, an exiting person someone who searches for let’s say adventure. They look for new experiences something that is theoretically not available or even possible in their current situation so they crave the unavailable.”

At the end she smiled innocently as if she hadn’t turned his afternoon into a complicated talk and a drowning headache. Her phone buzzed loudly interrupting her previous grinning time.” Well that my cue” she reached to turn it off “ it was nice meeting you..?” “Simon” he hesitated”My names Simon” “ Mai, nice meeting you” she got up dusting off her clothes slightly before smiling one again him noticing the dimple in her cheek for the first time” wish your friend good health” she said before she turned on her heel leaving Simon with a though filed head and an empty cardboard cup her slight lipstick stain aesthetically echoing against the white lid. He blocked slightly grabbing his packet from beside him leaving aswell.

[writingwisterias]

hewwo hewwo

in case it hasn't been asked yet, id love to see your take on each leon era reacting to their partner who's also a fellow agent and also his pseudo captain on the field since they have a little bit more experience and level head compared to him

all your hcs are such joys to read <3333

HIII, This was so interesting to think about! I'm glad you enjoy my hc I'm sorry I took so long its been a really busy couple of months <3

Warnings: None

RE2: I think Re2 Leon would prefer someone with more experience in this Era. He has to sort of make a lot of choices himself and perhaps he could lean on someone to make more of them. It might ease the pressure he probably felt during the entire time. You can see how he reacts to Ada, he follows her instructions because there little else to do, so maybe it would have turned out slightly differently with someone else to talk in those situations.

RE4R: He seems a lot independent in this game so perhaps he would prefer if despite your increased experience it was more of a joint effort, maybe prompting an open discussion. With his head space and he's very protective I think he would also take control or make brash choices before he's really thought them through/ spoken to you about it. Infinite Darkness: Again I think he would accidentally ignore you advice as he gains more experience himself. I feel like Leon's battle strategy is to ensure people remain as safe as they can be. Which could result in him arguing with you about certain situations, mostly follows your lead though in terms of conversations and the general approach to a scenario but will overtake during an actual fight. Damnation: There no point in trying with him. He not going to listen to anything you say that could be a logical response to a situation. The mission requires really fast paced decision making and I feel like he would just take control. If you confront him about it there's no point he'll ignore you and pulling rank doesn't matter or affect him because as far as he concerned it doesn't matter in battle. I think maybe towards the end where he's sort of running on fumes and spite he might listen to you a little bit more, stopping his charging horse approach. RE6: The situation in the game is an interesting one tbh, I think at the start in Tall Oaks he might lean back and encourage you to deal with Helena and just work on being your support during the situation. However, in China I think his behaviour would switch to listening to you and himself depending on what point you are at in the game. I think he would ignore you the most when Ada is involved and he has the opportunity to prevent anything from happening to her. Maybe the encounter with Chris n Piers could strike up some arguments or angst between the two of you. Since he is laying his feelings on the table in the moments, depending on your relationship with him that could hurt. Vendetta: With how he interacts with Chris, I think he would prefer to take orders from you. Towards the start of the film he doesn't really seem interested in listening so it could be interesting if Chris used you as a way to get Leon to listen. Maybe he ran off instead of talking to you or something (Most likely)… I think he would just prefer to take the heat of decision making away for a change since he lost an entire team under his watch. Depending on if you were helping Chris for a while or not then I think he would also play it off as you having more knowledge on a situation. You can defiantly guarantee some stupid joke about listening to what the wife wants or some bs Death Island: I feel like he would prefer a shared opinion on the situation, talking out strategy's etc but I don't think he would argue if you took the lead, make some half-assed Whitty joke about it. instead? The entire mission is weird and there's a lot of opportunity's for you and him to get separated etc so I think it would just be a mutual if you make a call I follow it instead of actual argument's.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

max 500 for 🪷 pls (i just wanna get to the part where bobby finds out buck’s husband is eddie 🥺)

Haha sorry took me a while to get to this one, but we're in a whole new conundrum now! 500 for 🪷:

---

It doesn’t really make sense that any of this would be more upsetting to her than Christopher or Eddie. But then Shannon thinks of the age this girl is at. Nearly the same age as Chris when she died. 

“Okay,” she nods. “We can do that.”

Chris exhales, relieved.

So, that’s something she knows about her son now. He loves his little sister. He’s protective. Maybe even a little misguided in his efforts, but well-intentioned. Cut from the same cloth as his father. 

“What’s her name?” Shannon asks.

“Josephina,” Christopher says. “Josie.”

“After Pepa?” Shannon asks.

He nods. 

Pepa was not a fan of Shannon, but she was always cordial. The same could not be said for Ramon and Helena. She hopes Helena is pissed that Eddie named his daughter after his aunt instead of her. She hopes it keeps her up at night.

Shannon decides not to ask about the wife. It doesn’t matter. Whoever Eddie chose, Shannon just hopes he’s been happy.

“Denny will be here in ten minutes,” Chris says. “So, just… Just hold tight. Uh, if you need anything else to eat or drink, let me know. Do you… I forget. Do you drink coffee?”

“Tea,” she says. “I drink tea.”

He nods. “Milk? Sugar?”

“One sugar,” she says. “Thank you.”

Chris gets up and heads back to the counter. Avoiding conversation through a stringent need to be of service. Once again, cut from the same cloth as his father.

Christopher

The first big emergency Denny had to work as a firefighter, he shared his location with four people. His moms, Mara, and Chris. It was a wildfire. A bad one. Dad and Buck - and Denny - were gone for days. Chris spent as much time with Josie as he could during that stretch. She’d been scared. It was her first time really old enough to be conscious of the fact that she could lose her parents. He’d spent a lot of time reassuring her, and internally, himself. His parents and best friend were going to be just fine. After all, he has lots of practice with this sort of fear, and most of the time, it turns out okay. 

The point is, Christopher has had Denny’s iPhone location turned on since December. He rarely checks it. Just the one time Denny went on that date with the girl Chris thought was a little too into him too quickly and had serial killer eyes. He watched it a lot that night. And he’s watching it a lot now, waiting for Denny to reach them.

[peekofhistory]

Hi! Love your Tumblr! I'm fascinated by the fact that you are in China making and playing the Guqin, I was wondering if you can share a bit more about yourself and your background and why you decided to move to China? Like a self intro (that you're comfortable sharing). Thanks and have a nice day!!

Hello :D

How I ended up in Yangzhou learning to make/play the Guqin is a rollercoaster of a story xDD

As for my background, I was born in China (Beijing) and moved to the US when I was around 6 yrs old (my mom had moved several years earlier and I went to live with her). From the start my mom emphasized I can't forget I'm Chinese, because that's where I'm from and where my family's from, so she put in a lot of effort teaching me Chinese. She even had a colleague send over elementary school textbooks from China so she could teach me Chinese at home. She also got recordings of some Chinese TV shows and she'd watch them with me, explaining each episode and giving me information on that period of history.

Back then there weren't that many TV shows in China, and the ones we could access in the US were even less, so it was mostly classics shows like Journey to the West (1986), Dream of the Red Chamber (1987) and Romance of the Three Kingdoms (1994):

That really planted the root for my interest in Chinese history and culture. Especially in the case of Romance of the Three Kinggoms that was based on the actual Three Kingdoms period in Chinese history, it made me aware of how long China's history was and how rich and colourful it was, all the incredible historical figures, the battles of the past, the stories, etc.

Later on I also became interested in Chinese Opera (mainly Peking Opera, Huangmei Opera, and Shanghai Yue Opera):

We moved to Canada after a few years and stayed there until I graduated uni. I then went to Japan to work for a few yrs.

When I returned to Canada, it was 2018 and I found myself having to start all over career-wise. My experience in Japan really didn't help me at all when job hunting in Canada, and I ended up doing a few entry-level jobs in healthcare (office admin work). Then Covid and I lost my job, found another job about a year later, but still entry-level.

It was actually during the Covid break that I found out I could buy Hanfu fairly easily now. Throughout my time at uni and in Japan I didn't really check Chinese websites so I didn't know much about what was happening in China. During the Covid break, with nothing else to do at home, I found Taobao and realized the pretty clothes I adored in TV shows as a child I can now buy :D I went a bit crazy at first and ordered a whole bunch, but at the time I honestly didn't know too much about Hanfu aside from long robes, large sleeves, criss-crossed collars. But it was fun to wear them out (once lockdown ended) and actually feel like the characters I once saw on TV:

The job I had just before I came to China I actually really enjoyed, the work itself was fulfilling, the pay wasn't great but OK, and my co-workers for the most part were pretty good (my direct supervisor was great, I really, really enjoyed working with her). Unfortunately there was some changes to staffing in the office and the workload became really bad. I found myself literally having nightmares about work, and crying driving to and from work everyday. I decided I needed to quit. It was taking over my life 24/7, I was constantly tense and dreaded having to go to the office every morning.

At this point I'm in my late 30s and I took a few months to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Either look for another regular office job that may or may not be better than the last, or try something completely different.

At the same time, I decided to take the chance to visit my family in China. Without a job, I could visit for a longer period of time (otherwise I could only get 2 wks paid vacation). I remember my mom mentioned during one of her visits to China she had met a master of woodblock printing (雕版印刷/diaoban yinshua). It was the first form of printing invented, they would carve out pages of text (or images), put ink over top, then print it onto paper:

This was even earlier than movable type printing (活字印刷/huozi yinshua) where each character was printed on a separate block so you could arrange them as needed:

This master's workshop took in apprentices and would offer free housing and food. After a certain amount of time, once the apprentices' work reached a certain level, they were even given a salary for their work.

I thought that sounded like a great plan. I didn't explicitly come to China with the goal of finding a place to do an apprenticeship, but I was aware this sort of opportunity was available, and it aligned with my interest in Chinese history and culture.

When I arrived in China last year I spent a few months visiting my dad and other family, before I ended up in Yangzhou.

There were some emotional ups and downs in between, I did find a woodblock printing master, I started to learn a bit with him, it didn't work out, etc., etc. But essentially I found myself in Yangzhou with nothing to do.

Yangzhou is quite famous for Guqin (there's an entire street here dedicated to selling Guqin...although it's a bit of a tourist trap ^^;;) , and I thought I could find a teacher to learn how to play the instrument at least. I had bought a Guqin years ago in Canada, but was always too busy/lazy to actually learn/practice it, but now being free everyday I decided I could do some sort of intense course. While scrolling through the Red Note app looking for Guqin teachers I came across a post of a teacher looking for students to learn how to make+play Guqin, with the option to live at the workshop and have housing and food covered:

And my eyes lit up.

That was how it all started :D

The biggest obstacle is honestly some family members. Growing up abroad, I've never really had a close relationship with any of my relatives in China. I've also never had to navigate the complicated family relations that Chinese families can sometimes have. If I were to go to any other country in the world to learn something, none of them would say anything, I don't think they'd even think about it, but because I'm in China a lot of them suddenly feel they need to express an opinion about my decisions, lol. Some don't like my interest in wearing Hanfu, some think I'm crazy learning something that "no one else these days is interested in", some think I'm immature/irresponsible not finding a 'regular' job and 'wasting' my time. Luckily, none of them live in Yangzhou so aside from a passive-aggressive text message/phone call once in awhile I can do my own thing 😁💖

[vii-sparks]

yayyy more protectobot lore tidbits for my au

warning for blood (energon) and a minimal amount of (robo)gore

-

TARN: “You know how we work, Autobot. You knew what would happen if you took a defector in.” HOT SPOT: “…” TARN: “It was admirable of you, really: to accept him as one of your own, to treat him with the same understanding and encouragement you would any other Autobot under your command. ‘We’ll stand together’—what a charming sentiment.” HOT SPOT: “ . . . ” TARN: “But you know what we do to Decepticons who try to turn red. Every traitor must be tried, and their accomplices with them. Our Cause is law.” HOT SPOT: “ . . . . . . ” TARN: “…Look at you, poor thing. Brought to your knees when you once stood as tall as Optimus Prime himself; but you’re hardly worth delivering the killing blow now. Weak prey isn’t worth the effort. Someday, when you’re worth the pursuit… then, I’ll come back and finally put you out of your misery.”

-

PROWL: “My condolences. I know you two were close…” STREETWISE: “…Don’t treat me like I’m grievin’, ‘cause I’m not. Fragger got what he deserved, didn’t he? We had such a good thing goin’, but he…” PROWL: “…” STREETWISE: “…” PROWL: “Just—Don’t do anything reckless. Do you hear me?” STREETWISE: “Just fine.” PROWL: “I know we don’t always see optic-to-optic, but we can’t afford for you to go and get yourself killed too. You need to get a grip, and soon, because we need you.” STREETWISE: “…Yeah, yeah. Whatever y’say.”

-

FIRST AID: “Oh, Primus…” MOONRACER: “It was the right thing to do, ‘Aid.” FIRST AID: “I… I can’t…” MOONRACER: “Um, come over here… T—Think about it: he would have taken all of us down with him if you hadn’t gotten him first…!” FIRST AID: “…I’m so sorry.” MOONRACER: “‘Aid?” FIRST AID: “I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve to—oh, Primus. Please don’t look at me. Please…” MOONRACER: “‘Aid—” FIRST AID: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m—”

-

DECEPTICON: “Please—Please! Just let me go!” GROOVE: “…” DECEPTICON: “I’m begging you! You’re a mech just like I am under there, right?” GROOVE: “…” DECEPTICON: “You got your info. You got what you want, right? I won’t say a word, not even to Soundwave! I’m basically not a witness! I—I didn’t even see who you are!” GROOVE: “…” DECEPTICON: “I didn’t do anything, please let me go, please I have a conjunx I—” *kzzzt* GROOVE: “ . . . ”

-

DARKWING: “Not so brave now, are you, Autobot? Serves you right for that dirty little stunt you pulled.” BLADES: *kzzsht* DARKWING: “Oh, yeah. Your vocalizer. Real shame that I had to tear it out, but I like you a whole lot better when you’re not speaking.” BLADES: *kzzZZZzst* DARKWING: “Don’t like that? Maybe pick a fight in your league next time and you won’t be put in your place!” BLADES: *KZZZSHSHHHHT* DARKWING: “Forget hostage negotiation, I’m gonna have a great time crushing your spark. Any last words? Oh, that’s right—GAAAHHHH!!” BLADES: *kzzZZzZZshT* DARKWING: “Y—You little pest—hhGGGAAAHHH—AAAAAAAHHHHH—!” *kzzzt*

[shaysplanet]

the results are in !

here’s all the cards i pulled on my first ever 2020 shift and how i interpreted them…

death upright — i was in a state of natural release. my mindset was already primed for transformation even though i didn’t realize it then. with the boredom of covid and online university, there was no clinging. i also wasn’t obsessed with results because shifting was still so new. i wasn’t controlling the process. i didn’t treat shifting with a lot of pressure. i was very neutral which worked in my favor. this card also says i was ready to let go of my old reality even if i didn’t consciously say it.

empress reversed — i didn’t try to manifest perfectly. i didn’t overly nurture the process. i didn’t think of shifting and how i’d approach it all damn day. empress reversed can also show that i wasn’t emotionally resigned to a single expectation. my attempt was very bare bones and just based in curiosity. sometimes too much “care” or trying to script it into perfection actually is a form of self sabotage. which is something i avoided that first time.

judgment upright — this was a calling moment. judgment shows a karmic or soul-aligned window opening up. i heard the call (literally off a tiktok lmao) and something in me said “yep. this is real. this is for me.” even if i didn’t say those words exactly, i energetically aligned with it because it felt right. and this is true because i don’t remember ever doubting the person who came up on my fyp for a second lol, i just wanted to do it.

5 of wands upright — sometimes people take this card as inner turmoil but i take it as it meaning my mind was just very active that night but not in a way that blocked me. this card shows mental stimulation. so i was very curious, bouncing from idea to idea but not stuck in resistance. i didn’t “fight” the process, i just let myself think and then let myself sleep. its actually a good thing i didn’t know about “symptoms” at the time because i wasn’t looking for cues on what to feel.

temperance upright + magician sideways — so magician landed right on temperance which is why these two are together. basically temperance says my mindset was naturally in harmony—body, mind, and spirit were loosely aligned without effort. and magician in the neutral position signifies accidental manifestation i think. my belief wasn’t full magician upright but it also wasn’t reversed. it was just open... ie “whatever happens, happens.” and that openness, paired with the state of harmony i was in, created the exact window needed for success.

strength upright — i wasn’t in a cycle of doubting. i wasn’t spiraling. strength upright shows i had subtle inner belief. a quiet confidence. i wasn’t faking confidence to achieve and i wasn’t secretly desperate. this mindset kept my nervous system regulated enough to receive.

king of wands upright — jesus i pulled a lot. okay. this card just comes off as a “bold energy”. i saw something cool on tiktok and said, “i’m doing that”. i took action on my impulse without fear. i embodied that natural, inspired king of wands leader energy.

the lovers upright — finally, my first shift happened because it was in resonance with me. i wanted to experience that world so genuinely. legend of korra was my favorite show at the time and i had literally JUST got done watching it. so there was a lot of alignment between my emotion, the dr i scripted, and the energy i was putting out that night. it was a match made in heaven fr.

and if y’all ever want a reading from me on literally anything dr related the link is right HERE and in my masterlist!!! YES THIS IS SELF PROMO LMAO

now that i’m thinking about my first ever shift, i’m bouta go do a reading on what my mindset was fr and what exactly made me succeed that first time fr. i have my theories but i’m very curious.

not even for myself but so y’all know. i think it will be interesting. will update soon…

[snail-drop]

✨My FFXIV profile charms are finally done, and up for preorder!✨ - Double-sided to showcase their growth🌱 - 3" tall & wide, gloss coat on reverse 🌅 - Stuck between Zenos, Alisaie, and G'raha (or anyone)? Discounted bundles of 3 available during preorders ONLY!

I'm also moving next week, so purchases made during this preorder phase would help a homie breathe a little easier! 💛

(Reblogs super appreciated, with the way social media is going right now 😔) Thanks for checking these out! More talk in the tags ahaha ✨My etsy store! ✨

[hinamie]

close again and closer still

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[voidedtea]

[ID in alt]

my pieces for @strawberrij's thespius fashion zine!! quite the endeavour and adventure that turned out pretty neat i think :]

special thanks go to @ratchetclankarecute for posing/cloth references + the bulk of the image descriptions! that first image would Not have happened without them <3

[shroomerr]

Oh, help me God, this hellboy got me coming back for more

reblogs super appreciated !!! close-ups under the cut !

[disposal-blueeee]

from this thing lolz

ty to @cherry-207 for the idea !! XPP

vargas by zarla-s

[matteoberrettini]

okay like... maybe i should've said so earlier but i'd rather people don't repost my photos without asking me first 😭 you can use them as lockscreen or wallpaper or anything like that if you want and show them to people and save them that's all fine. but if you're making a whole new post with a photo i took without asking me i feel a little iffy about it tbh