#its pretty comparable she'd adjust well

[ishgard]

#wolqotd time! Your Warrior of Light/XIV OC is transported to the OTHER media you most recently watched/played/read: how are they doing?

[khlorhine]

Jjk Oc info dump

Cuz I'm weird like that and I've had this for a while. Also I shaded that drawing of her from my last post and I feel annoying posting it again but I needed a coloured image of her that doesn’t look fucked up because I can’t consistently draw her face right.

Tamaki Kitagawa 珍亀 北川

The first character in her name means rare, the second means turtle, third (or first in her family name) means north and the last one means river.

Innate technique: Mould

There are three states of mould (all of which branch off from the actual word mould)

Sculpt which is a state of cursed energy that can shape other people's cursed energy. While in sculpt mode it can only be used to shape (or mould hahaha) cursed energy, it's pretty much impossible to exorcise a cursed spirit since they're made of cursed energy.

Blueprint which creates an information graph of other people's cursed energy and techniques through contact. Like the six eyes but with contact. Obviously it doesn't work on people like Toji or awakened Maki. The user can also make their own blueprints from scratch or from adjusting previously existing blueprints. Too much information from the blueprints can give you a headache and possibly permanent brain damage. It works like computer memory, you can optimise a blueprint by deleting unnecessary stuff while keeping around about the same level of quality. She could change the way a blueprint is registered in her mind but she’ll have to either manually change her old ones to match or make a blueprint to do it all for her.

Mould which is the culmination of these two states, using blueprints as moulds (haha get it? I'm so cringe) and sculpt to shape them into the moulds. It'll only work in battle if the opponent is two grades below the user, which sucks considering the technique can't even be used to exorcise curses in its base form, and only work on the recipient if they're the same grade or below as the user if they're willing to. This can be used to change a cursed spirit into another cursed spirit if their grade is the same or higher than the curse the user wants to turn them into. Theoretically she could give herself multiple techniques but she'd end up with major brain damage so she'd need a medium to put those techniques onto (like Rika for Yuta's copy technique).

It sounds weird but imagine having the knowledge to build a shelf in your head compared to having an actual shelf in your head. You can't fit a shelf in your head without destroying your brain to make room for it.

Since she can’t use the techniques of other people, she wears a bracelet of reshaped curses, semi-first grades or above to apply cursed techniques onto so she can utilise them in battle. Of course, when a sorcerer has any kind of jewellery it’s usually safe to assume it’s cursed for the purpose of aiding the wearer so it’s better for her to shape her curses as weapons so people will just assume it’s an ordinary cursed weapon since the ones with techniques are expensive as hell and why would a high schooler even have that unless they're part of a well known clan.

She can manipulate others' cursed energy and by extension use their technique through their body but her cursed technique is contact based so she has to be touching them, skin to skin, the entire time. It takes a lot out of her when she doesn't have permission because their cursed energy will just end up clashing. It's really better for her to get their blueprint and apply it onto one of her curses.

Kinji Hakari’s rough cursed energy signature isn’t considered a technique so Tamaki will apply that signature onto her cursed energy though her blueprint technique during a fight. I'm assuming cursed energy application is kinetic and Hakari’s energy is just kinetic too just moving in a back and forth movement causing a cutting feeling while Kashimo’s is electric so going off of energy types like kinetic and electric, there's also chemical, heat, mechanical. Mechamaru developed a heat blueprint for her.

She also knows rct. Surprisingly it wasn't taken from another person; she actually learned it when her bf was dying. I don't know how rct works but Tamaki applies her rct in her stem cells and rebuilds her body bit by bit with the help of her technique. She really doesn't value her body that much because she can just heal it over and over again which is a problem when she tries to make a binding vow to exchange parts of her body for something else. Instead of sacrificing an arm she could make one that prevents her from regenerating her arm during the fight.

Her domain expansion is just her technique but instead of it being contact based, it now works if you’re within the range of her domain. It gives her guaranteed control over a third or more of all the cursed energy in the domain. She can do it but it still takes a lot out of her to manipulate a technique without permission. She can also apply your technique on someone else so if someone had blood manipulation she could use them as a medium and manipulate someone else’s blood.

All of this is just a way to say her technique is overpowered when applied correctly. If she collects a lot of blueprints and optimises the heck out of them she's a force to be reckoned with but at the start she doesn't think it's useful because in its base form it's main use is support through information gathering which is something Tamaki doesn't enjoy.

She's also a fucking Mary Sue. Really the only drawback she has is having less options for binding vows due to her mentality, very few options for ranged attacks, and high cursed energy consumption with her average sized cursed energy reserves which is negated by the fact that she can literally minimise the loss of cursed energy with her cursed technique just like Gojo with his six eyes. Does having to collect cursed spirits count as a drawback because she doesn’t have to consume them but having to collect high grade spirits for her technique is really time consuming.

Did I also mention she can hide her cursed energy signature by compressing all her energy deep in one part of her body? The only person who could even notice it is Gojo with his fucking six eyes. Really, I want her to be second or first grade but after writing all of this out I realised it’s better to class her as special grade.

Personality and backstory: Reserved and shy at the start. She knows she's different (wow guys she's different!) from most people since she's a sorcerer and she's been told by her uncle not to show off that side of her but she desperately wants to since it's the only thing she's good at.

She also knows she doesn't think like most people. She doesn't feel sad when people she doesn't know die and she feels more guilty over her lack of a reaction rather than the actual thing she should be reacting to which is a big problem in her mind because she understands what empathy is but she can't feel it. She has dead parents (and her bf also dies) and she's sad that they're dead, she cares about people close to her but she couldn't care less about anyone else and in her mind it's a bad thing because like her these people have people that care about them and care if they die but she's not apart of that group of people.

Her dead parents are the reason her uncle doesn't want her to practise jujutsu. Her mother died from a cursed spirit, her father had a heavenly restriction that weakened his body so he just died from sadness so she does it in secret and sneaks off and works for Geto.

After her boyfriend dies she finds his vengeful cursed spirit. She was really disheartened when he died and seeing it made her think that he really was back and she could fix him and rebuild him to make him human again.

She experiments with her boyfriend's spirit, transferring organs from his dead body to the spirit, essentially creating a half curse half human amalgamation which kick-starts her weird obsession with evil Noritoshi Kamo. It also makes her feel guilty-er about her lack of tact in this and any other situation, how a normal person wouldn't do surgery on a cursed spirit to try to revive their dead lover, how normal people shouldn't be obsessed with Kamo Noritoshi (idk how to even describe him cuz he's a rapist but saying that to make a point about my oc being gross and weird is just iffy) just because they wanted to experiment with half curses.

Her hair is naturally white from her mom. She grew out her eyebrows because people could see them when they are white so she needed to make it obvious she wasn't balding to the other kids. She eventually dyed it black and used makeup to hide her white hair for school but then grew it out after she left.

She gets a head injury during the night parade of a Hundred Demons. It fucked up her prefrontal cortex which further decreased her empathy skills, now she rarely ever feels guilt over not experiencing normal emotions unless someone points it out but, hey at least she's not as shy anymore. She also has a little change in her technique in the way blueprints are registered, not too drastic, just thought I'd point it out since that's where cursed techniques are stored.

She gets picked up by jujutsu high after Geto dies, thanks to Gojo but she's not a big fan of him and she attacked his students so she doesn't really want to attend the same school as them. She gets sent to Kyoto tech instead which was a decision from the higher ups to keep the new generation in line and it's something Gojo couldn't stand in the way of because this is what Tamaki wanted.

Inspiration/s

Shinsuke Kita from Haikyuu

I mean look at them and look at their names

Yuta Okkotsu

because her technique literally takes from others and she has a cursed spirit that is literally her first lover. I have to take traits for source characters and put them onto my oc because I have no creativity in me whatsoever.

The Black Tortoise

I based her whole name and general aesthetic on it. Her original name was Genbu, the Japanese name of the black tortoise because I changed it. "kita" means north and the black tortoise is associated with it. I'm gonna call it Xuanwu since it's the Chinese name for it. The second kanji in her given name means tortoise but the hanzi "wu" (or the kanji reading "bu") doesn't mean turtle, it means martial or warrior because Xuanwu isn't really Xuanwu if it's just the tortoise, it has to have a snake which is where her cursed spirit bf comes in.

Vaisravana/Bishamonten

her domain hand sign borrows from the God of warfare since she likes fighting (im not exactly sure if the image I took from him could be like his signature hand sign since idk how to actually pick one but the image is down below). It's similar to Kinji Hakari's domain hand since his hand sign comes from Benzaiten and both Bishamonten and Benzaiten are part of the seven lucky gods. They’re also both part of the twenty four devas originally being sixteen then twenty in Indian Buddhism before being twenty four in Chinese with Benzaiten being conflated with the god Saraswati who was called Biancaitien in Chinese where the name Benzaiten came from. Vaisravana is also one of the four heavenly kings which are all in the twenty four devas, representing the north. He has two names in Chinese, Pishamentian and Duoweng Tianwang, the latter meaning listening to many teachings.

Two of my ocs

her design was basically, if they had a child, what would it look like

Satoru Gojo

the appearance of one of the ocs was based on him but it changed so much that you wouldn't even think to relate him to the oc but he is the reason why Tamaki has white hair so Geto can project and imagine she's his and Gojo's kid cuz he's freaky and gay like that it's actually one of the reasons why he picked her up as a student

I got stuff written about her boyfriend too and I’ll post it either tomorrow or the day after that.

[doberbutts]

I have to tell you I adore you and all your fabulous fur babies!

I would like to ask if you can talk about your experience being on t, specifically the mental and emotional aspects of the hrt process. I have read a lot about the physical changes that happen, but I don't see anyone talking about how your personality, mood, energy, etc. change.

Thanks!

Hey thanks!

Honestly while there is a lot of misinformation regarding what testosterone does to your emotions, I feel lucky that my endocrinologist never really said anything except that I may feel wild mood swings or have trouble controlling my anger in the first few months as my body and mind adjusted to the new swing in hormones.

This is pretty normal for any hormone you take- when you first start, you may find yourself experiencing mood swings and feeling emotions more intensely. That's why kids deep into puberty tend to be, um, a bit out of control with their emotions. It's also why this happens again as you age into your twilight years, when your body once again changes its hormone output and can set things a bit out of whack. Or if you get pregnant. Or if you start hormonal birth control. Or if you take a steroid for something not even sex hormone related. Messing with your hormones can seriously throw off your grasp on your feelings and moods.

But the good news is, it's not permenant. By the time you're 5 months in, you should start feeling more like "you" again, unless your dose changes for whatever reason. And, even better, the "you" you feel like? Usually is a much more mentally happy person.

On a personal level, I didn't have random fits of anger. Which is interesting, because I have a documented anger problem that I have taken anger management for because I have had black-out rages [usually inspired by one of my sisters deliberately hurting one of my pets] [for instance she swung one of my pet rats at the wall by the tail like she was going to kill him and the next thing I know our mother is pulling me off of her as I'm pummelling her face with my fists on the ground and I do not remember the in-between] [I'm not sorry, fuck around and find out, don't hurt my animals and I won't hurt you] [also this sister sent me to the ER in a previous fight where she'd bodily picked me up and thrown me through a window so like. Don't feel too bad for her that I finally snapped and gave her a taste of what she constantly did to me]

In fact, I've had *multiple* people who know the "before" and "after" tell me that I'm much calmer and more emotionally steady than I've ever been. And that I'm happier too. I also used to anger-cry a *lot*, pretty much any time I got angry I'd also cry, but that also stopped happening so now I don't really get angry and when I do I don't cry about it.

I would say anxiety's probably about the same but depression is much better. Compared to who I was before leaving my hometown vs now, I can confidently say that I no longer consider the odds of whether my shower curtain rod can hold me for long enough. I'm much better at recognizing when my mental health is getting bad and when I need to take a step back. I get stressed and I can go "okay, I need to break away from this before I completely lose it" well in advance. Which is great! Mental stability and joy and security for the win!

I will say I don't really cry anymore. It does occasionally feel like I'm not really able to. One of Creed's songs came on and I teared up and my throat got all fuzzy but I think only one of two tears actually came out, vs losing him pre-T we're talking ugly cry scream-sobbing in my [now-ex]'s arms. Which, yes, some of it is just distance from the grief since it was two years ago. But also I've never been so in control that I only cried a literal couple tears' worth. Usually the waterworks start and then take a long time to end.

[sojournment-reinvention]

chapter 1

(read on archive of our own)

The forlorn blanket of winter clouds suffocated the New York City skyline and sheets of unrelenting rain threatened to down the city's inhabitants. Slick asphalt streets reflected the unending eternity of lights flickering throughout the busy metropolitan, all the brighter due to the pressing darkness of the coming evening. It was truly the city that never sleeps. It inspired a dull yet desperate kind of living amounst its denizens. One of soul-crushing productivity and relentless movement in the hopes for a modicum of survival.

Ana might've fallen for the grift, but she already lived like that. Her third coffee of the day wore off in a steady trickle. The two additional espresso shots in her typical dirty matcha latte made little difference with how quick she burned through her energy. The baristas of the cafe she frequented for the past two weeks of her stay already seemed concerned about her thrice a day appearance. She'd either need to find a new place to haunt soon or throw in a two-hundred percent tip with each purchase for them to look the other way if she ever upped it to four. That was the great thing about the big cities in the west—no one cared once enough money hit the table. She was just another face among the many they encountered on the daily.

She'd almost mourn her eventual departure from the Big Apple for them alone. Few cafes in the west matched the deep umami of their matcha blend nor their perfect ratio of soy milk, matcha, and espresso. 

The rainwater battered the still busy streets and swirled around the soles of her black velvet ankle boots. She adjusted her oversized tote bag to touch the icy cold rain pouring over the edges of her umbrella. It pooled in her hand and she shook it off as she headed for the subway that hopefully wouldn't flood.

A glimpse of shimmering hot pink caught her eye.

A pretty girl huddled beneath the awning of a closed bakery. She had on a short cocktail dress and shivered miserably. Her eyeliner and mascara darkened the already present shadows beneath her doe-like eyes. Ana paused in the middle of her walk and observed the girl as her eyes desperately shifted along the crowds hidden beneath their shields of nylon. She was Ana's age, perhaps younger. A college student facing the unforeseen consequences of a night full of well-deserved insolent leisure and dangerous whims.

Ana sighed and closed her umbrella. She shook off the rain and allowed it to roll out of her hand. The umbrella clattered against the concrete sidewalk right in front of the bakery.

The girl startled. Her blonde curls bounced as she started at the offering splayed at her feet. Her eyes flickered, searching for the potential owner.

But New York City stopped for no one. 

A discarded necessity meant nothing when you were rushing to your next destination under the cover of relentless rain. Something she must have remembered as she hesitantly snatched up the abandoned umbrella, opened it, and merged into the passing crowd with her matching pink heels tainted by the muddy waters splashing with each of her hurried steps.

Ana followed soon after.

Not a soul spared her a glance as she slipped through the cracks of the bustling mass to the subway station, untouched by the endless precipitation. The fabric of her boots remained pristine.

She had a comparative politics paper to submit, a throng of emails to sort through (and potentially answer), contracts to review, intelligence to organise, and dinner to consume. Her fingers rubbed the growing ache thrumming at the bridge of her nose.

She'd require another dirty matcha latte to accomplish a singular task on her list.

//////////////////////////

The traditional brownstone in Brooklyn wasn't Ana's ideal home. It strayed too close to the downtown core; full of busy roads, active people, and overly enthusiastic noise at all hours of the day. The soundproofing was fine work, but sometimes she enjoyed leaving the windows open in the evening to take in the night wind.

But, she wasn't here for pleasure.

It was business considering her eldest paternal cousin, Arnaud Lau, had restored the brownstone and asked her to evaluate its potential either on the market or as an addition to their family's real estate repertoire. He had requested her, specifically, and with such a warmth that she found herself reluctant to deny him anything. He knew that he held a special place in her heart as one of her favourites and used the knowledge sparingly. It had endeared him to her even more when he could make unbelievably ridiculous requests and she would acquiesce without question.

In all honesty, she preferred the reclusive English manor in Millburn, New Jersey that their cousin, Celine Lau, acquired at an astonishingly low price. The sprawling residence hid behind thick bushes, brick walls, and Victorian style gates. Whenever the manor remained empty, it was hauntingly silent in a way only a cemetery could ever mimic, and it was something Ana enjoyed from time to time. The potential three hour commute devouring the meagre twenty-four hours of her day whenever she had business in New York City, however, filled her with dread. The only and sensible choice was to stay at Arnaud's brownstone.

And if Arnaud ever discovered her preferences, he would pout for the next decade.

Ana unlocked the front door with ease and turned off the security alarm. If they intended to keep it the property for family usage, the brownstone would require a fortified entrance and new security system; potentially provided by her and their paternal grandmother's family.

As it was, she wouldn't need it.

She locked the door behind her and set her latte down on the entryway sideboard. Her ankle boots slipped off with ease and she stretched, her back cracking in the process. She'd need a new umbrella soon unless her hopes of a week of isolation were fulfilled. Her maternal family would undoubtedly send in a request for her help or presence at the newest branch of their company within the week.

In the darkened drawing room, in the corner of her eyes, a flicker of movement—

Ana snapped her fingers.

The fluorescent lights blazed overhead and a man crumbled into the charcoal-black linen sofa, groaning and cursing at the sudden brightness engulfing the home he trespassed into.

"Bloody hell!" The man stumbled but regained his balance. "Do these humans wish to die by my hands?"

Ana leaned against the Romanesque wooden pillars capping off the matching walnut wood partition separating the drawing room and foyer. The man was pretty, she'd admit begrudgingly, with smooth skin, tousled brown locks, and distinctly sharp features. Wisps of chestnut brown hair fell into his dark chocolate eyes bordered by thick lashes.

A haze of pearled ivory surrounded his sinewy and slim figure.

Ana relaxed and closed her eyes.

Fantastic.

If she wouldn't go to them, they'd bring them to her.

"It'll be difficult to accomplish that considering you're incorporeal," she said.

The ghost's head shot up. His wild eyes landed on her with a near frightening accuracy as he stalked across the room to tower over her.

"You can hear me? You can see me?"

Their eyes met as she looked up at him. She plucked up her latte to sip at while she prepared dinner. If she had known she would return to this, she would have insisted on getting enough drinks to fill a tray to take home.

"Answer me, girl. Are you a witch?"

"No." Ana paused and considered her words as she entered the kitchen. "Maybe. I've never thought about what I'm called in English. No one ever asked."

He stepped in front of her and glared. "Why can you see me?"

She sighed and walked through him to check on the tall copper stock pot resting on the gas stove top. A pleasant clear broth, fragrant with toasted spices and free of residual oil or scum. It was a transparent amber brown. Fire flared to life beneath the metal pot with a snap of her fingers and she turned on the range hood. "That's a long story. Want to tell me your name, considering you're rudely invading my space?"

"Watch your mouth, human. I've killed people for far less and should I come back alive, I'll remember to return to this city just for you," he said, eyes blackening.

She considered her next words and the potential dark joke on the tip of her tongue.

"I'm just visiting New York," she said plainly, settling for the boring facts. "My name is Ana."

His eyes narrowed. "Are you mocking me?"

Well, there goes honesty.

She ignored him and pulled out the prepped ingredients from the fridge as he bristled like an offended cat and fumed at her. A slab of round-eye beef, brisket, cooked tripe, beef balls, sliced green onions, cilantro, beansprouts, and frozen udon packets made up the main dish. She set out the containers of homemade side dishes on the island—kimchi, gat-kimchi, kkakdugi, and blanched garlic sesame yu-choy. The male ghost infringed on every aspect of her personal space, a hair's breadth between them, as he ranted at her.

The leftover plate of uncooked gyoza she made yesterday went into the airfryer to crisp up.

Every word passing from the ghosts' lips glided over her like rainwater on a car's glass window. She caught something about her intestines around her neck, but enough flew beneath her notice. The rambunctious households she grew up in and around had prepared her for the worst. He wasn't the first violent ghost to cross her path and she doubted he'd be the last. Something about her inspired the gods to send souls like him her way.

Ana twisted her waist-length waves into a high bun, scrubbed her hands raw, and began to shave the round-eye into thin slices with a cleaver. The ghost continued to threaten her with an impressive range of torture methods she couldn’t bother to parse through. Her pho-style beef bone broth simmered on as she arranged her dinner.

“Done threatening me?” she asked once she finished cooking the udon noodles. She glanced at the ghost who had fallen into a sulky silence. “All of that for a name. I can just call you ‘ghost’.”

She warmed up a ceramic bowl with the broth and poured back in only to fill it with a small portion of noodles. She placed the bowl back onto the counter and cleaned up the mess she created.

“Kol,” he said.

“What?”

“My name is Kol.”

A hint of a smile tilted her lips. “Welcome to my humble abode, Kol. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Now, answer my questions,” he demanded.

“I descend from shamans,” she tested the word. “Maybe priests and priestesses are more fitting. We’ve always seen ghosts.”

A glint entered his eyes, almost excited—plotting. “You have magic.���

“Yes, but I’m boring.” She set aside portions of the side dishes and placed several containers back into the fridge. “I act as an emissary for the divine and as a guide for the lost souls set in my path.” 

“What broad bloody parameters.”

She shrugged. “Inconvenient is a better word. Now, do you want to eat dinner with me?”

“Are you stupid or are you mocking me?” His lips lifted into a snarl. “I’m a ghost. Incapable of consuming food in this state.”

“Magic, lost souls,” she reminded him. “I can make you temporarily corporeal enough to eat.”

He stopped and stared at her, slight disbelief colouring his features. “Those are your powers? How useless.”

“We don’t choose our powers. Now, dinner or no dinner?”

He scowled and his elbows sunk into the marbled beige quartz of her kitchen island. “What’s this?”

Ana took the question as a ‘yes’ and warmed up another bowl for him. She topped the bed of udon noodles with thinly sliced round-eye, brisket, beef balls, beansprouts, herbs, and green onions before sluicing the boiling broth over to cook the round-eye. She repeated the process for herself and set them down on the island. Kol eyed her suspiciously, as if she were pulling a practical joke on him.

“If you’re lying to me, human,” he threatened.

She held out her hand. “Would you like to see if I am?”

“What do you want?”

“Your hand,” she said.

He faltered, dark chocolate brown eyes meeting hers before he stuck his hand out. She grasped it, palm to palm, and injected him with a jolt of her magic. A thin glaze of divine magic washed over his ghostly form as complex magic circles sprung up and branded themselves onto his hand. He flexed his fingers in fascination before he struck out and attempted to grab her by the throat. His hand fell through and he shivered.

She stared at him placidly, a hint of an amused smile flashing across her face. “Nice try, but it’s only enough to eat your food and manipulate small inanimate objects for a time. You should eat before it goes cold and bloats.”

“You still want to eat with me even after I attempted to kill you?” he asked, incredulous.

“You wouldn’t be the first and I suspected you’d try something. I’d hate to waste food, too.”

He sprawled onto the leather bar stool across from her. “These powers of yours are useless.”

“To you, perhaps,” she said.

“What’s this?” Kol picked up the chopsticks she set out and stared at the steaming bowl in front of him. “Well, human?”

“Beef udon noodle soup with a pho-style broth,” she said. “That’s braised pork belly gyoza, a spread of kimchi, and garlic greens.” She searched his stiff expression as he picked up a dumpling and placed it into his mouth. “Have you… had any of this before?”

“Somewhat. A previous version, perhaps,” he said. “I… slept for one hundred years. I woke briefly and spent most of my time in boring, small American towns with bland meals. I travelled to Asia previously, but that was a lifetime ago. The cuisine has outdone itself over time.”

He almost sounded bitter at the revelation. Ana watched his ever-changing facial expressions; each emotion more vivid than the last. Resentment, deep-rooted anger, regret, conflict, and wistfulness raged war on the open canvas of his face. He would be a terrible ghost to guide to peace, but she didn’t expect anything less. The gods always sent the most difficult ones her way.

She ducked her head and took a sip of the pho-style broth. It had a clean and slightly sweet fragrance, hints of the toasted star anise and coriander and fennel peeked through the layered taste of beef bone marrow. The thick, soft texture of the udon complimented the light yet complex flavours. The blackened beef brisket remained juicy and tender while the medium-rare round-eyed added a soft chew that matched the noodles. The green onion, thai basil, cilantro, and crisp bean sprouts added a certain freshness to the hot dish while the intermittent addition of kimchi added a refreshing spicy-sourness whenever she needed an extra kick.

She set down her chopsticks. “So, want to tell me about the life you led before this? Were you a warlock? A half-demon? Shapeshifter?”

“What?” he asked dangerously, hand hovering mid-air.

“Hundred year naps don’t happen to non-magical humans and other humans don’t call each other ‘human’ either.”

“Ask a different question,” he growled.

Ana accepted the diverted route of conversation with ease. “What’s your favourite meal? The one that eclipses all other food?”

“What?” He reeled back, blinking.

“Your favourite food,” she said. “Your Ratatouille moment that makes even the worst situations better.”

“You choose ratatouille among all the dishes in the world?” he scoffed. “What a subpar dish to favour. Your little meal here outdoes any stewed vegetable dish.”

“It’s a film reference. Not my favourite dish.” She nudged the plate of kimchi forward. “And you should try these with your next bite.”

He obliged her recommendation and grabbed a mustard leaf. A hum escaped his mouth before he grabbed a cubed daikon and a cabbage leaf. Pickled vegetables accompanied every bite of the main dish or the gyoza.

It was one way to get rid of leftovers.

Ana went back to eating.

Kol was going to be one of the easiest or hardest ghosts to guide. She wasn’t quite sure which one he would be, but she hoped to the high heavens that it would be the latter.

Even though she knew better.

The gods wouldn’t let her have it so easy.

//////////////////////////

Ana stacked the dinner dishes on the drying rack hanging over the sink.

Arnaud paid attention to the smallest details even on matters he didn't involved himself in. She doubted he even knew how to use a dishwasher, but everything was beautiful and functional. This house would do well on the market, but she suspected one of their cousins would protest the decision to sell once she gave her stamp of approval. Some of her family members enjoyed their wild luxuries from expensive parties, bespoke clothes, and staying at exclusive hotels to have every whim catered to, others preferred the simpler cosy living, free of the trappings brought by their privileged upbringing. This was a place that could offer that.

When she returned to the kitchen island, Kol had slinked off to somewhere else in the brownstone. She could feel his presence still, among the plenty of ghosts haunting New York. She stared at his completely finished meal and smiled, secretly, when she remembered the hard-pressed nonchalant expression he wore throughout dinner. The bowl was cleaned out, only speckles of red from the kimchi he devoured with each bite remained. Her newest assignment had slipped enough information about himself to her with ease between bites. Small details that amounted to nothing in the eyes of other people; several annoying siblings, not human, fascinated by magic, hedonistic to a fault, mainly stayed in the American South, and lived life to the fullest each time he woke up from a presumably non-consensual nap.

He was undoubtedly a younger brother. She had a brigade of male cousins on her mother’s side and she could recognise such a malady with ease. She presumed he must have lived for more than five hundred years at least, his bouts as the famed sleeping beauty aside.

The act of sharing a meal often acted as a confessional booth and sanctuary to people.

Kol was a ghost and there wasn’t truly anything to lose for him by talking to her.

People too often underestimated the power of comfort and serenity.

She added his clean bowl with the other dishes and dried off her hands. Ghosts aside, she had her regular life to live. That meant papers to write, contracts to sign, and all other forms of non-supernatural problem-solving assigned to her through family name alone.  She picked up her bag and laptop from the foyer.

Kol lingered in the drawing room, looking out the slit of the front windows unguarded by the linen curtains. The room was a rather empty bore, spartan compared to her actual home. Minimalism sold better on the market, but she disliked the slick coldness on principle.

“I need to do some work,” she said. “Are you staying or leaving?”

“Dismissing me already?” He towered over her.

Ana curled up on the corner of the couch, nearly cuddling her laptop. The remains of her dirty matcha latte rested on the walnut end table behind her head. “I can’t read your mind. I don’t know what you want.”

“I’m dead,” he snarked. “I wish to be alive, but I’ll settle for remaining in your humble abode for now.”

“If you’re staying, I’m turning on Ratatouille while I work.”

“The film you referenced?” he asked curiously.

She nodded. “It’s an important cultural moment in film history.”

Kol reluctantly sat down and watched her fiddle with Smart TV’s remote. Every movement of hers was intently noted by him, but she ignored the blatant staring.

“This is a child’s film about a rat, ” he said, offended, when the first few minutes passed.

“It’s an animated film that can be enjoyed by all ages.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t discredit an entire medium of storytelling.”

He scowled and crossed his lean arms across his chest. His athletic frame sprawled across the couch and took up most of the space. If he didn’t act like he’d go feral any second of the day, she would’ve nudged him over with her foot and disturb his aura. But, as a civilised host, Ana ignored his legs encroaching on her singular couch cushion and turned her attention to her less entertaining comparative politics paper. Her fingers flew over the keyboard and ghosted over the trackpad, quietly tapped away. A smile played at her lips when she peeked at Kol and spotted his attention wrapped up by the events playing out on the screen.

Five minutes before ten, she submitted her paper and closed her laptop. She caught the ending of the film and stretched as the credits rolled up the screen.

“Well?” She downed the last of her latte and set down her laptop on the coffee table.

Kol cleared his throat. “A tolerable experience.”

Ana placed the remote on his lap and stood up. “You should pick another movie. I’ll be back down to work on more things.”

//////////////////////////

Kol observed the strange girl out of the corner of his eyes.

Ana, or so she said, reminded him of water in all of its forms. The black ocean of her hair fell around her in waves, framing the pale oval of her face. Light from the television and her computer coloured her skin in flashes, emphasising her moonlight-esque complexion as she reflected everything like the still surface of water. The flushed red of her lips, worried by the intermittent bite of her bunny-like teeth. Her long, inky-black lashes framed her doe-like eyes as they alternated between the screen in front of her and the one they shared. She blended into the environment, quiet and unobtrusive, and nearly slipped beneath his notice entirely at times.

The small scrap of fabric she called a nightgown she pranced down in had engulfed her petite frame with ease, hints of her curves peeking through with each movement. He trailed over the smooth line of her calves and the birdbone-like fragility of her ankles before she hid beneath a tiny faux-fur throw. It would’ve covered half of him at most, but it swamped her. She held a delicate beauty, a peculiar sweetness, and had he been alive, he wouldn’t have looked at her twice.

He liked his prey and companions defiant, challenging, and intense. Such traits spelled out nights of undulating debauchery and fun. She had surprised him, however, with her tranquility and evenness. He could recognise that as a form of fearlessness of its own.

When the film she chose ended, a rather touching and unrelatable story called Big Hero 6, she rubbed her eyes and turned to him expectantly. His lips twitched at her searching gaze.

“Adequate entertainment,” he said. “I prefer my usual games, however.”

“Well, I need to sleep. Since you don’t need it, you should watch some movies and shows to catch up on the years of culture you missed. You’ll be corporeal enough to manipulate the remote until three in the morning and I have auto-play. You could also terrorise the neighbourhood with your ability to throw small things.” The girl paused and rifled through her bag to pull out a pad of paper and a pen. “If you’re staying, I have some recommendations of things I like in English. Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Good Place, Kung Fu Panda, Up, Lilo and Stitch, Paddington and Paddington 2, The Addams Family… I’ll need to see if any Studio Ghibli film dubs match up to the original language.”

He watched her unreadable face as she scribbled onto the paper. She was unassuming in every way and held a serenity about her that no one in his family could ever replicate. Except, he suspected, that she maintained something like a rip current beneath the facade.

“Will they be catered to children?”

“Yes,” she said, humming. She shoved the paper at him and the remote. “The best movies are. I need to sleep now. Have fun.”

She meticulously folded up the throw and draped it over the sofa arm. His eyes trailed over her dainty silhouette. Every inch of her suggested a certain frailty that could shatter like a fallen glass figurine. Her tiny bare feet ghosted over the laminate wood, each step soundless, as she headed for the staircase. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve suspected that she was the true apparition as the edges of her form became misty. She moved like a shadow through fog, but the description wasn’t quite right. Something about her reminded him of the light at dawn, piercing through the dark, despite her muted demeanour. It radiated from the clarity of her eyes. The bright jolt of her magic flowing through him.

He didn’t quite trust her enough, but he was sure she was harmless towards him. His intuition about these things were astounding, even if his siblings didn’t trust him. Kol cleared his throat and she looked down at him from the staircase. Those stupidly long lashes of hers fluttered over the sleepy tea-brown of her eyes.

He threw caution to the wind.

“Lobster bisque, dirty rice, and New York cheesecake,�� he said.

A quick flash of a smile crossed her face, the peek of her white bunny-like teeth. “Good night, Kol.”

It was the most minute and abrupt change of her face, the first one all night, and for some unknowable reason, it haunted him until the early hours of the morning even after he investigated the rather empty home and attempted to intrude on her privacy.

Perhaps, Kol wasn’t quite accurate about his assessment on how dangerous she was.

//////////////////////////

masterlist - next chapter

[fict1onallyobsessed]

Can you write a horse rider reader with Rhea Ripley?? Maybe reader takes her to the livery and persuades Demi to get on one of readers horses

If you don’t know anything about horses it’s okay!

Thank you for taking the time with this!

First Time for Everything.

Rhea Ripley/Demi Bennett x HorseRider!Reader

not my GIF!!

“Oh, fuck me.”

She looked at your horse, Scout, as he stood proudly in his stable. She finally agreed you to take her to see your horses, after months of begging, she gave in.

It’s wasn’t like she was scared, or so she said she wasn’t, but what she was mostly afraid of was the idea of you trying to get her on the horse.

She’s seen you do various events such as cross-country, show jumping and sometimes even dressage. In fact, she’d not missed one event, even when she was on tour, she watched on her phone as you and your horses won trophies and medals one by one.

You were pretty well known in the horse industry, so having the luxury of keeping your horses in a private barn was only thanks to the fact you were expected to participate in large events with important people attending. Only a few others kept their horses in that same livery, either with a similar status as you or simply rich enough.

“Scout doesn’t bite.” You laughed, walking into his stable to bush out his mane. You were required to exercise your horses everyday, and you owned three, so this was bound to take a while. Demi was 5”8’ herself, but she didn’t even compare to the horse in front of her. She was stunned at how freely you moved around him despite not even being able to reach the top of his head.

Once you were done, you had to tack him up, and as you did, you took a note of the multiple helmets that you owned. They were either from past events or gifts you received.

One was definitely going to fit Demi.

“Lift me up?” You weren’t tall enough to push yourself up, but not bothered to go find steps either, so having your strong, tall girlfriend around had its benefits.

She watched you in awe as you played around in the arena. Not once did she look away, only if she wanted to take a picture of you and Scout trotting around.

Scout seemed energised enough for an hour, so once it was up, you took all his tack off and placed him back into his stable before giving him his feed.

Franklin was up next, and although Demi thought it would be the exact same process as it was with Scout, she had a surprise coming.

When you went to get Franklin’s saddle, you grabbed a spare helmet which was bound to fit Demi’s head and placed it on her as her back was turned to you. She spun around immediately, reaching up to feel what fell upon her head.

“No, (Y/N).” She whined, knowing that you’d get her on top of the horse if she liked it or not. You simply smiled, walking before placing the saddle on Franklin’s back. Frank wasn't as big as Scout, but she equally as terrifying with the black coat she was blessed with at birth. "Babe, I don't know what I'm doing."

She started ranting about how she didn't even know how to keep her balance up until you fully tacked up your horse. Demi had muscles, and they were needed for balance, so there was no doubt in your mind that she'd be fine.

You got to the arena and sat Demi on one of the chairs so you could fully adjust her helmet before she got on. You stood between her legs as she huffed out a anxious sigh.

"You'll be okay. Stop stressing."

She only looked up at you with an unsure look, leg bouncing beside your body. You made sure the helmet was on properly before tucking her hair away from her eyes and cupping her face with a reassuring smile.

You gave her instructions on where to hold on to u til she was finally confident enough to try and climb on. She was much taller, so she could reach without an issue, and get on effortlessly. It was a case of staying on though, and you could immediately see how stiff Demi had become.

“Relax your legs.” You tapped her thigh from the side as you attached a rope to Franklin. Next, you showed her how to hold the reigns, properly position her feet and made sure to tell her to keep a straight back.

Never in your life have you seen her so tense, but her wide eyes and stiff posture made you giggle. Once the horses started walking, Demi tensed up again, muttering curses under her breath as she tried to stabilise herself.

“You make this look so easy.”

“I’ve been doing this since I was 4.” You smiled, reminding her of your experience. You went through basic balance training methods, ones that they force you to do as kids to get used to the saddle.

“Let go of the reigns and put your hands on your knees.” You watched as Franklin delicately walked around you in a circle.

“You’re insane.”

A laugh escaped your mouth, explaining that, that’s how you were taught balance as a child. She reluctantly followed your request, biting her tongue as she prayed she wouldn’t fall.

“Stand up.”

Her head snapped at you, a expression that could only be described as confusion and fear conjoined flooded her features. To say it took you literally half an hour to convince her to stand was an understatement. By the time she finally stood, trying to balance on the stirrups, your lungs hurt from laughing at her little comments.

“You’re explaining to my manager why my back is broken.”

“RIP me.”

“This is your line of work. I like to pin people down.”

“You’re so lucky I love you.”

Franklin looked fed up by the time you were finished. You didn’t go further than that, simply letting her get to know Frank before you’d definitely make her go back on her again.

You did.

Rather successfully, actually.

It took you about a month to get Demi to get on Frank without any objection. Overtime, she seemed to enjoy it, she became less scared of falling.

By the second month she could canter without any help. By now you had so many videos of her panicking that it filled up your whole storage. Demi of course tried to get you to delete them, but hearing the little giggle every time you watched the videos made her smile too.

What you didn’t expect was for her to post one of them on her Instagram story. You agreed your relationship was going to be completely private, but that was more of her idea than yours. You always told her you didn’t care if people knew, and that she could tell people when she wished.

Well that day came when a flood of messages surfaced your phone one early morning.

“You posted it?” You beamed as you skipped into the kitchen of your shared apartment, showing her the video she posted the night before without your knowledge.

It was a video of a hack you took with her to a nearby river by your livery. The first hack you took Demi on with Franklin and Scout.

In all honesty, the video didn’t really give away your relationship, your face wasn’t even in it. But your voice calling her “babe.” was very clearly heard. If she hadn’t of tagged you, people wouldn’t of known who you were unless they recognised your horse.

She did it on purpose.

“Yeah.” She smirked, watching as you bit your lip in excitement.

“Does that mean I can show you off now?”

Your arms shot up to circle around her shoulders while hers lifted you onto the counter by the waist.

“Absolutely.”

To say the reaction from people was positive would be an understatement. Many Rhea Ripley fans followed you and shipped you with her, same goes for your fans to Demi.

By the end of the year, you’d managed to teach Demi how to gallop and regular hacks took place. It was mostly her who asked to go see the horses, forming some kind of emotional attachment to them over time.

“I’ll race you to the canter track.”

“Bet.”

THE END

[slashbitch2]

Chapter Six (Jennifer Barkley x Reader)

Previous Chapter

The entire day, nay week leading up to Jen's arrival was fraught with tension. Time went all too quickly, yet dragged simultaneously. By Friday you were brimming with so much unnecessary energy that your productivity at work was comparable to that of Leslie, who's determination was currently your source of frustration. Had she not been so resolute about giving Jen a 'personal Pawnee tour', than you would've reunited at 5 rather than 9.

Admittedly, it was also your fault for not calling out her lengthy lie, but those extra four hours you had to suffer through were compensation enough.

In an attempt to pass the extra time, you tried to stay at work for longer, but Fridays were your half day and Ron demanded that you go home immediately, lest you do any extra government work. Reluctant to return to an empty house, you'd asked around if anyone wanted to hang out, and were met with a series of rejections.

Except for Ann, who upon being enlightened about the situation, insisted she help you get ready for your date (initially you refuted the title of 'date', but by the second hour of your evening it became tolerated). Her company, though unexpected, was more than welcomed. Having someone to share your excitement with made the increasing tension almost fun.

"Y/N?" Ann waved her hand in your line of vision, catching your attention. "We going in, or just spending the night in the car?"

"Don't tempt me." You muttered, grudgingly dragged out of your thoughts.

In front of you the queue to the The Snakehole Lounge was gradually growing. The sheer amount of people gathered outside was intimidating, so you dreaded to imagine how packed it'd be inside. Staying at home would've been preferable, but it seemed that time alone with Jennifer was not a luxury presently granted to you.

"Come on." Ann nudged you with her elbow. "You've been going on about this all day and now you're going to wuss out?"

You twisted round to face her, illuminated by the flickering multi-coloured lights beaming out the club's windows. She was watching you closely, trying to gauge how you felt based off expression alone. Despite all that was rushing through your mind, you were at a loss for words. How could you even begin to convey what you were currently feeling?

"Stop overthinking it." She said. "There's no way of knowing what'll happen when you see Jennifer again, but only you can change that, so just roll with it."

You paused to consider her suggestion, coming to the conclusion that she was more observant than you gave her credit for.

"You're right." You admitted, grateful that she'd knocked some sense into you. "Thanks." Awkwardly, you leant across the centre console to hug her. You didn't know Ann all too well, but needed some way of showing gratitude for her sensibility.

"This is nice." She relaxed into the embrace, then unwound an arm to glance at her watch. "But we're five minutes late so I'm pretty sure Leslie will be sending out a search party soon."

You chuckled, separating from Ann to glance at the building once more. Jen was somewhere inside waiting for you. She'd voluntarily returned to Pawnee, and to one of its less than fine establishments of all places, just because she wanted to see you again. The very notion had your heart racing.

"I'm ready."

---

The atmosphere of the club was as intense and unruly as expected. By the time you'd adjusted to the blinding lights and deafening music, Ann had already slipped away, replaced by Tom.

"Welcome this evening's esteemed VIP." He thrusted a disturbingly bright neon beverage into your hand. "Drink up."

"What is it?"

"Sweetums Fizz. My go-to drink for when I'm tryna get lucky." He winked. "But if it doesn't work out, feel free to give her my number."

Coming from Tom, that was the closest you would get to his blessings. So, unenthusiastically you took a sip of the dreadfully sweet drink , screwing up your face as you forced it down. Trying your best not to grimace at the taste, you smiled at him in thanks before he dispersed into the mass of people.

Next to approach was Leslie, who engulfed you in a crushing hug while spewing unintelligible nonsense about her trip. Usually her overly affectionate manner was too much, but this time you pulled her closer. If all went well tonight than you would be forever indebted to her.

Removing yourself from her grip, you interrupted her endless talk. "As much as I'd love to hear about Washington," You yelled over the obnoxiously loud music playing. "I can't hear a word your saying."

"Right." She nodded. "Wrong time, wrong place." There was a pause as the both of you were happy enjoying each others company. Since Jen's exit, Leslie had been so supportive and you'd missed her while she'd been gone.

Although, now wasn't the time for acknowledgements. "Have you seen Jen anywhere?"

"Oh, yeah." Leslie swivelled around and gestured in a general direction. "I think she said something about staying near the fire escape. Said this entire building was probably a hazard."

"That sounds like her." You grinned, spotting the green glowing fire exit sign. "Wish me luck."

"You don't need it." She patted your back, smiling reassuringly as you shuffled past.

Navigating through the crowd while keeping an eye on your target was a challenge. Several people bumped into you, their drink nearly spilling as they pushed past without an apology. However, nothing else mattered as you drew closer to the sign. Nothing else mattered except finding Jen.

Only she wasn't there.

As you struggled through the final row of people, you were met with yet another group of strangers. You sighed, absentmindedly swirling your glass as you resigned to return to Leslie. You then raised it to drink while turning round, though the necessary libation never reached your lips as you collided with someone.

The casualty gasped, stepping back as the cocktail spilled down the front of their dress.

"Shit." You froze, surveying the damage. "I'm so sorry-" You finally glanced up to face the woman and apologise again, but halted upon realisation.

Of course it was Jennifer. You just couldn't catch a break.

"I was going to surprise you, but looks like you got there first." She joked, scanning the vicinity for any kind of napkin. You joined the search, eventually spotting a couple abandoned on a table.

"Again, I am so sorry." You repeated, watching as she scrubbed at the stain. The attempt was futile as it didn't take long for the paper to be completely soaked through, and with little improvement to her dress. "Come on." You grabbed hold of her hand as she discarded the napkins, eager to try and improve this disaster of an event.

You maneuverer through the club with much difficulty while dragging Jennifer, who had an iron grip on your hand. Invigorated by the embarrassment, you arrived at the bathroom a mere minute later, all but shoving her inside one of the cubicles. Under the blaringly bright lighting you could assess the damage in greater detail.

"You know what?" She casually leant against the wall, waving her finger around. "I'm having some serious Deja-vu right now." You looked at her questioningly, pleased to see she didn't look too upset with the state of her dress. "Us together in a public restroom, you staring at my chest..."

You scoffed, reaching past her to grab the toilet paper. "Don't flatter yourself." You wrapped several layers around your hand, creating a makeshift towel. "Completely different circumstances."

"Same outcome though?" She raised an eyebrow suggestively, taking the bundle of paper from you.

"We'll just have to wait and see."

"I think you owe me." She scrunched up her face. "Or is throwing your drink over someone a traditional Pawnee welcome? Because that would explain the mess back there. Pretty sure every surface was sticky."

"Maybe you should wear one of those plastic ponchos next time." You muttered, nervously fidgeting with your hands.

The familiar anxiety from earlier seemed to have reappeared, you were unable to drag your eyes away from where they were fixated . Under the sobering bathroom light, everything had suddenly become very real. It had been years since you'd pursued any kind of serious relationship, and Jen was hardly the easiest person to start with. You tried to think about what Ann would say if she were here.

Probably something astute like "All the best things in life are worth fighting for." Too cheesy.

It'd be more "Nothing good comes out of running away from what you want, even if it's hard." Not inspirational enough.

Possibly "With great effort comes great gain." Nope. You'd definitely plagiarised that one from somewhere.

Maybe she'd-

"Y/N?" Jen ducked into your line of vision, bringing you back to reality. "Lost you there for a second." She smiled cautiously, resting a hand against your arm as if tethering you to the present.

"Sorry. I was thinking about something a friend said." You admitted sheepishly, placing your hand atop of hers. "Or would say if she were here."

"Oh yeah?" She carelessly threw the wad of paper behind, her full attention now on you. "And what would she say?"

You'd finally settled on what Ann would suggest. She'd say "Kiss her, idiot."

And you did.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Unexpected Arrival -4

Pairing: Eventual Bucky x Reader, Possible Steve x Reader

Summary: As if working with the Avengers wasn’t exciting enough…. an unexpected visitor is about to change your life forever.

A/N: This part kinda took a little angsty turn! After the next chapter, there may be a little time jump.... i havent decided yet. Thank you to everyone who is reading/sharing, it means alot!

I was cleared by Bruce, as long as i promised to take it easy for a couple of days! Bucky walked with me back to the residential floor, Evie safely tucked into his right arm as i leant on his left for a bit of support.

"Hey Buck, lets just stop in the common room for a bit. I need to eat and not be stuck in a bed for a while"

"You sure? Bruce said to rest...."

"I'll be resting just fine on the sofa, while you make me a sandwich"

"Okay, deal" he chuckled shaking his head as we walked into the common room. I walked over to the sofa and gently lowered myself down, Bucky standing close by waiting for me to get comfortable.

"I'm not sure how much rest you'll get when the team realise you and Evie are in here" he said leaning forward to place Evie in my arms once he saw i was settled "what do you want on your sandwich doll?"

"I really dont mind, id eat anything im that hungry" i scoffed as i snuggled into the sofa with Evie laying on my chest.

"Well i'll be damned!!" Came the booming voice of Sam Wilson.

"Shhhhh she's sleeping bird brain!" Bucky snapped as he playfully shoved Sams shoulder.

"Sorry! I didnt know!" He mumbled as he walked over and sat across from me "i heard what happened but i thought they were all just messing with me!!"

"Nope its true, surprise huh?"

"Id say!! She's beautiful Y/N" Sam flashed a huge grin as he looked down at Evie.

"Thank you Sam" i smiled proudly and looked over to see Bucky keeping a close eye on us while he made my sandwich.

"What are you? The baby bodyguard?" Sam laughed teasing Bucky, Sam had obviously noticed that Bucky was keeping a close eye on us.

"Try the baby daddy!" Bucky replied with a dead straight face and murder in his eyes.

"What??!!" Sam practically squealed at Bucky's reply.

"Oh my god Buck.... did you really just say that?" I laughed at him, his eyes met mine and his facade broke as he burst out laughing "im sorry! I heard Tony say it yesterday" Bucky shrugged as he walked over with the plate holding my sandwich.

"Please don't ever say that again"

"Wait.... are you serious? Or are you fucking with me?? i honestly cant tell!"

Sam said shaking his head and looking super confused.

"Language! Don't swear around my daughter!" Bucky slapped Sam on the back of the head as he passed.

"Switch please" i smiled up at Bucky before taking the plate, once his hands were free he carefully picked up Evie and had her held against his chest in no time.

"Wow..... you’re like... good at the dad thing Buck" Sam said sounding surprised.

"I had younger sisters growing up, it was a long time ago but I'm pretty sure its still the same" he chuckled.

"Wait, how long have you two...."

"You can take this one Buck I'm eating" i said with a shit eating grin.

"Thanks Y/N" he rolled his eyes, looked at Sam and shrugged "it was one time, we're not together.... but we're in this together. Right doll?" He looked at me and smiled.

"Yep, what he said" i replied trying to keep my tone steady, it hurt a little hearing how casual he made it sound. It took me back to when he had acted like nothing had happened between us  after we finally slept together all those months ago.

"I cant believe y'all have a baby!"

"Neither can we!" I said around a mouthful of my sandwich "imagine my surprise when Bruce told me i didn't have stomach flu and that i was in fact in labour!"

"Thats crazy sweetheart"

"Sure was, scariest thing I've ever been through Sammy....And the pain.... nothing compares to that!"

"But it was worth it, look what you got out of it" Sam was hovering around Evie clearly wanting to hold her but Bucky wasn't parting with her just yet.

"She was worth every bit of the pain".

Later that afternoon I was walking back to the common room after taking a shower and getting into clean clothes, i stopped by the door when i heard Sam and Bucky talking in hushed voices.

"Oh come on man! These girls are hot! You cant pass that up!" Sam was saying to Bucky.

"I don't know Sam, i don't really think me going out on a date is a good idea right now"

"Why the hell not?? Just because you got a kid now? Im sure Evie wont mind"

"Y/N's been through a lot man, i just feel like i need to be here for her and Evie"

"Buck come onnnn! they will both probably be asleep by 7pm! the date is at 8, you dont need to stay that long..."

I couldn't believe what i was hearing! I pushed the door open making sure it was loud enough that they heard me. Both men turned to face me, Sam with a huge fake smile and Bucky just looked plain guilty.

"Sorry did i interrupt something?" I asked casually as i flipped on the kettle to make some tea.

"No doll of course not"

"I was just telling Bucky about a date i arranged for him.... a double date actually. I needed a wingman"

"Oh...."

"And I was just telling Sam that i didn't think it was a good idea. I thought it'd be best if i stayed here incase you and Evie needed me"

"If you wanna go Buck don't let us stop you" i snapped turning to face them "i'll be fine with Evie on my own"

"See! I told you she'd be cool!"

I was suddenly feeling so angry and on the verge of tears all at once! I just needed to get away from them, I walked over to Bucky and reached down taking Evie.

"She needs feeding" i said simply "go on your date Bucky" i mumbled as i turned around and headed for my room.

I was sat on my bed nursing Evie with tears running down my face when i heard the knock on my door. I chose to ignore it hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and leave me alone.

"Y/N.... doll i know you’re in there i can hear you" Steve called from outside making me sigh and wipe my tears away.

"Im just feeding Evie, i'll be out in a minute"

"Can i come in?.... i can tell you’re upset sweetheart"

"Im fine Steve..." i called back but burst into tears again. The next thing i know the door clicked open and Steve came in, he pushed the door closed behind him and locked it before rushing to my side. He sat next to me on my bed pulling me into him carefully while trying not to disrupt Evie's feeding.

"You wanna tell me whats wrong?" He asked quietly as he stroked my arm trying to calm me down.

"Im just a huge hormonal mess right now Steve" i mumbled not wanting to admit what had set me off "its been a lot to adjust to i guess and i think its all just catching up to me"

"You sure thats all? You know you can talk to me Y/N.... about anything"

"I know" i nodded "I'm not even sure why i got so upset.... not really"

"So something did upset you"

"It was stupid..... don't worry about it" i told him as i sat up seeing that Evie was done feeding, i held her blanket over my chest so i didn't expose myself to Steve.

"Could you take her for a second while i sort this out?"

"Sure" he nodded happily taking Evie.

I straightened out my shirt and settled back against the bed watching Steve burp Evie. His huge hand was rested against her chest supporting her chin and jaw, his free hand gently rubbing her back.

"How do you even know how to wind a baby Steve?" I asked curiously, he looked like a pro!

"I may have done some research" he blushed a little "i wanted to know what kinda stuff needed to be done so i could help out if you needed me to"

I was suddenly crying again!!

"Oh god.... what?? Why are you crying?"

He asked starting to panic.

"That was really thoughtful of you Steve!  I cant believe you went to that effort for us... for Evie"

"Of course i did, gotta be there for my favourite girls" he said smiling just as Evie let out a little burp making us both laugh, it was the cutest little sound!

"So why are you in here crying? Talk to me" Steve said a few minutes later.

"Steve...."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with whatever the hell Sam and Bucky were bickering over would it?"

"Probably" I nodded as i picked at a thread on the blanket avoiding looking at Steve "Sam arranged a date for Bucky. I heard them talking.... Bucky said he didn't think he should go considering I've just given birth to his daughter. He feels like he needs to be here incase we need him" i shrugged "i want him to want to be here for her, i don't want him to feel like he has to.... like she's a burden to his dating life" i admitted to Steve then started to laugh at how stupid i sounded "i sound fucking crazy i know!"

"No you don't"

"I told him to go, told him that he should go on his date.... not to let us stop him, that i would be fine on my own"

"But you don't want him to go on that date do you" It wasn't a question, it was Steve stating a fact.

"No..."

"Y/N, why don't you just tell him that?"

"Because i'll sound like a crazy woman!! he doesn't owe me anything Steve, he’s not my boyfriend.... we didn't plan this" i rambled on not even sure if i was making any sense at all "yes, we have a daughter together now but that doesn't mean he has to put his life on hold. If he wants to date who am i to stop him?"

"And what about your feelings for Bucky?"

"W..what?" I asked wide eyed, caught off guard by Steve's comment.

"Im not blind doll, i see the way you are with him... the way you look at him. You love him" Steve stated smiling "and that was before you had Evie!"

"I.... i dont... shit. So what if i do huh?? Steve, it doesnt change the fact that he doesnt feel the same way!"

"How do you know that? Have you asked him??"

"Of course i haven't asked him!! But he made it clear enough back in Alaska" i shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"if you had finally slept with the woman you loved.... would you act like nothing happened the next day?? Act like everything was normal, ignore her even. Go on dates with other women...."

"I wouldn't no"

"Exactly! There's no point in me telling Bucky how i feel because i know he will never feel the same".

"Y/N...."

"Its fine, honestly. I'll be okay, its just the hormones.... I'm over reacting" i shrugged "please don't say anything to him Steve.... i know he’s your best friend but this stays between us".

"I wont, i promise" he smiled sadly as he held my hand bringing it up to place a kiss on the back of it.

"Thank you Steve".