#maybe i should just drop everything and leave this stupid country. its something i have been wanting to do for a long while

[rottingcompost]

2023: inflation and recession and also extremely high electricity bills

Economy "expert": now that pay negotiations are coming up for employed people, dont just focus on getting more money

Like yeah they want people to try and focus it with fully paid for workplace education but fucking really? When literally everything is getting extremely expensive, including for example rent in a lot of places because some idiots thought that letting landlords charge whatever they want was a good idea! When most food item become stupidly expensive, like vegetables and meat, to the point where some people genuinely have stopped eating either or! When fucking electricity bills are the highest they have been for years and they dont seem to stop rising! When said electricity prices are even worse for people higher up north than like fucking Stockholm because heating requires electricity, and the fucking bullshit government pulls with the energy crisis is to give money TO THE PEOPLE WHO ARENT EVEN HIGHER UP NORTH?!

I am so fucking done with this piece of shit country, and the piece of shit economy experts who clearly dont give a shit! Someone please just nuke Sweden and dont even try to start over with the hellhole. Just leave it and never try again

[moonstruckme]

omg hi! I love your writing so much and I’ve seen that you asked for doctor Remus requests and he’s on my mind day and night, I simply love how you write him. I don’t know if it’s a thing in other countries as well but in mine you have to go to the doctors around your birthday for like check ups and stuff like that, mine is coming up and I’m already dreading it (mostly because of the blood test, I end up fainting every time😣) but I’m sure it would be better if it was with Remus instead🥰

Thanks for requesting sweetheart, hope it goes okay!!

cw: description of anxiety, mention of needle, implied blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 972 words

The doctor’s voice is so soothing you keep almost forgetting where you are. You don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose. 

“Alright.” He catches your ankle before you can kick him, sharing a smile with you as he pockets the small mallet he’s been using to test your reflexes. “Everything seems perfect.” 

“Thanks,” you say, then feel stupid.

You don’t know why you’re acting like he’s complimented you. You’re getting flustered by his raspy timbre and attractive hands (which had, just a few minutes before, felt gently along your neck and the underside of your jaw like you were a thing to be treated with care. Not that that’s important). The doctor—Remus, he’d told you to call him—smiles politely anyway. 

“All that’s left to do is get you sorted at the lab,” he says, typing something quickly into his computer, “and then you’re free to go. Ready?” 

“Um, yeah.” It’s a struggle to hear yourself over the beating of your heart. You can only hope you sound normal. You’d known this was coming, and still it’s giving you the cold sweats. “I just feel like I should maybe warn you, I tend not to do well with the blood test.” 

He glances over. “You’ve had problems before?” 

“I sometimes faint.” Your foot starts jiggling of its own accord. You don’t notice until Remus’ gaze drops to it. You stop. “Every time, actually.” 

“That’s fine,” he says, straightening and turning away from the computer. “In that case, I’ll probably keep you in here so we can do it with you lying down. Does that sound alright?” 

You blink. “Um, sure.” 

The nerves are hard to miss in your voice now, and you can’t quite meet Remus’ eyes as he directs a gentle smile your way. He gives your knee a squeeze on his way to the door.

“I’m going to go get some things,” he tells you. “I’ll be back soon, but while I’m gone I just want you to practice taking some deep breaths, yeah?” 

You nod. Another flash of that small, reassuring smile as he goes out the door. 

You try to do as he says, forcing your lungs to fill and then empty and attempting to ignore the pounding of your heartbeat. You can feel it in your face, in your temples, in your teeth. You’ll think you’re starting to get it to slow, and then a pair of footsteps will come down the hall and it’ll speed right back up again. 

It’s almost a relief when Remus comes back, putting an end to your apprehensive torment. 

“You can go ahead and lay back, love,” he says, holding the supplies low where you can hardly see them, and you take care not to try. The paper crinkles underneath you as you flatten out on your back. Remus chuckles when it tears a bit and you wince. “You’re fine, it can’t be helped. I’m just going to feel for a vein, alright? Not doing anything just yet.” 

You keep your gaze on the ceiling as his gloved finger probes gently at the crook of your elbow. It’s hopelessly plain and undiverting up there, no tiles to count or anything. 

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks conversationally. 

“Okay.” Your voice comes out with a bit of squeak to it, not entirely convincing. 

“Keep breathing for me.” The warmth of his touch leaves, and then a rubbery tourniquet is being tied around your arm. “I don’t want you to worry about fainting. It’s perfectly alright if you do, but we’re going to do our best to keep that from happening, okay?” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Good, just try and stay relaxed.” His voice drops lower, and now you know the soothing effect is intentional, each of his words mellow and mollifying. “Any plans for after you leave here?” 

“I, um.” You tense when you feel the cold wipe swipe over your elbow. Remus thumbs over your forearm calmingly. “I don’t know.” 

“Seems like you deserve a sweet or something after this, yeah? What sort of things do you like?” 

“I did buy myself ice cream,” you admit, “to have after I get home.” 

“Smart girl.” There’s a smile in Remus’ voice. You’re tempted to lift your head and see it for yourself, but you don���t. “I like the pre-planning. What kind is it?” 

You feel the odd bite of the needle into your skin, and your breath catches. 

“You’re alright,” he promises you, rubbing the inside of your forearm again. “What kind of ice cream did you get, sweetheart?” 

You swallow. “It’s that new, fancy gelato kind.” Your voice sounds higher than before. 

“Oh, I haven’t tried that yet. What flavor?” 

You’re starting to get a bit dizzy. “Chocolate cherry?”

“That sounds fantastic. I’m quite partial to chocolate myself.” You feel something shift, and Remus says, “Nearly done. You might be convincing me to pick some of that up. You’ll have to come back here and give me your thoughts once you’ve finished it.” 

You laugh a little, and he echoes it. 

“Keep still,” he reminds you. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” You feel the needle come out. It surprises you, a quiet whimper slipping from inside your throat. He tsks kindly. “All done, love. You did really well.” 

“Seriously?” You lift your head, and Remus’ eyes are faintly amused as they meet yours. He’s sticking a bandage over your arm. 

“Very seriously,” he confirms. “You did beautifully. That ice cream is well deserved.” 

The laugh that leaves you is light and pitchy with disbelief. “Thank you. I really owe you your own ice cream, after this.” 

He wraps a hand around your elbow, helping you to sit back up. “Careful,” he says lightly, “I might hold you to that. Next time I see you, I’ll be expecting a detailed review at the least.”

[boydepartment]

spoil it all- uni student! nishimura riki x uni student! reader

a/n: RHHHHHHHHRAHHHHHHHRAHHAHAHAHHA :3 trying new layout i am sorry if its a lil ugly

warnings- fluff! little angst…! inspired by frank sinatra’s something stupid!

wc- 500-800 words

MASTERLIST

I know I stand in line

Until you think you have the time…

you slipped on your shoes and made your way down the street, it was spring time and you had a small break off school. it was exciting and what was even more exciting was that your best friend here was FINALLY free the same time as you. riki was a hard worker and even being friends he put his work and studies first.

you had grown up a lot in the past couple years with riki, you accidentally met on coincidence and have been talking ever since. both being foreigners studying in a new country. you’d facetime, text, send eachother memes, almost inseparable. unless he had work or was practicing his dancing, or just didn’t have time due to his studies.

so when he called you telling you to come over and hang out with him, you practically rushed over. why wouldn’t you?

To spend an evening with me

And if we go some place to dance…

you both ended up dancing around his small apartment, obviously he was a little better than you, being a dance major and all…

neither of you minded though, he was your best friend and why would he care?

you only cared a little bit… a lot actually…

you always cared, you saw how much he worked on his studies and how much he puts into everything he does.

it was admirable. you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

I know that there's a chance

You won't be leaving with me

you both were laying on the carpet that was freshly vacuumed. the dancing had taken you out and you both were giggling and breathing heavily.

“i wanted to talk to you about something…” riki started and leaned on his side, you turned to him and wiped your forehead.

“what is it?” your heart was pounding. you didn’t know why. maybe it was a sliver of hope.

riki moved onto his stomach now and ran his heads through his hair, his makeshift bracelets jingling, “after university i think i want to go to a training program.”

you blinked as you looked at him, riki had been talking about becoming a professional dancer anywhere after college since you’ve met him.

you smiled at him, “where do you think you’ll go?”

riki looked at you and grinned, “i dunno, korea, new york… maybe back home in japan… i haven’t decided.” he rubbed his eyes and looked up, “maybe i’ll even go to california.”

“i believe in you.”

of course you did, and you’ll always support him. even after college, even after this period of time was over and you both will probably never talk again, after you don’t need eachother anymore, even after all of that. you’d always believe in him, your best friend.

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place

And have a drink or two

later on in the night you stood in his dim kitchen making tea. giggling as it was 2am and everything was just so funny. you felt like kids again at a sleepover.

“okay i swear i know how to make my moms tea.” riki said and spoke a lot by nodding his head and moving his hands.

you started to laugh silently, covering your face, “riki i don’t know if it’s supposed to look like that!”

he threw his head back and laughed, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie that matched yours.

you both got matching hoodies last semester because he got tired of having to shoo off locals who tried to talk to you. so he fixed the problem. that was the first time you realized you saw him more than a best friend.

you watched him rush over to the tea bags and threw them in the pot, one of the papers was still attached and it caught fire.

riki jumped back, “WHAT DO I DO?!”

you started laughing, falling to the floor, “it’ll- it should- it’ll burn out quickly just turn off- turn off the stove!”

immediately he listened and looked at you on the floor, a little longer than a friend would, a small smile on his face before he started laughing just as hard as you.

And then I go and spoil it all

after the tea fiasco you both laid down in his room. it was around 4 am and he had soft lights around his room. it was still dark but little nooks and crannies of his room were illuminated.

“do you remember when that girl in your class asked if you were single?” you asked while readjusting the blanket. you were both talking about stories throughout your time here at the university.

riki covered his eyes and chuckled slightly, “i froze up! and started speaking japanese- yes of course i remember!”

“you did the same thing to me when that guy came up to me!” you exclaimed and shoved his arm, he acted like he was hurt and pretended to cry. then he stopped and looked at you.

“that guy was ugly you could do so much better. of course i cursed him out in japanese.”

your jaw dropped and you started laughing, “RIKI STOP THATS MEAN!” you went to shove him again but he ended up grabbing a pillow and smacking you, lightly.

you both were giggling after the play fight and you were trying to brush hair out of face. he was above you still laughing and you could help but stare at him.

he was so pretty to you, obviously you always noticed this, you’ve dyed his hair multiple times, done his makeup for some university and community performances, you had every mole on his face memorized. the little details of your best friend were your favorite. and his personality was even more beautiful to you, you loved everything about him. his laugh, the way he words things, how he talks and laughs with his whole body, you were in love with him.

“what?!” riki asked, almost taunting in a way, still playing around.

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

without even thinking you spoke, “i love you…”

“what?”

[maldito-arbol]

HELLO CHAPTER 7 HELLO WHAT DIE

“Run, Marcy, run, while you still can. She is not worth the risk. Strength is not worth…” (HELLO!??!?? BESTIE NO PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY)

She can only take Witney in her hands and hold her tight. (HOLD HER SO SO GENTLE PLEASE SOBBING)

A little cold, solid form presses against the side of her curled fist. 

 “Marcy,” she whispers. “Hold me?” (Hello i am a broken man now i cannot deal with this)

Witney trembles in her palms. “Marcy,” she says again, she must like saying her name now, and even that hurts. “You cared about me.” And it sounds like she’s crying too, even though she has no tears to do so. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” (Hi did you know i hate everything forever and ever now)

She holds her out to just look at her, as if to look her in the eyes despite only one existing between them.(shkfifhshdbgkjdhshd)

“You wish to protect…me?”(witney‘s fav hobby is saying the most fucked up things like they’re so so normal i think)

“It-it—has been so long. So long and hard and painful. I hadn’t had a vessel in so long, I…I almost thought, ‘it’s okay if they continue to hurt me. It’s better than being alone.’”(guys what if i just go and become a marcy kinnie instead and just hold her so so gently forever and ever and tell her i love her all the time and protect her from everything ever)

“I know you loved Heart,” she begins, nervous, careful. “But did you…ever love Strength too?”

 There’s a grunt that sounds angry. “That was one of my many, many mistakes.” (This is the one time k will accept any Strength slander. Its funny and Witney deserves it i think especially after it calls her stupid so much)

. “Lovesick little idiots, the both of us.”

 “You cannot call yourself an idiot.”

 “Sure I can—„ (so true bestie. I dont know wjat it is about this bit but. Oughhh

“Marcy, you are the greatest library I have ever had.”  (🥺)

 

And maybe being a good vessel shouldn’t be some kind of an achievement, but…right now it feels like she’s winning. (Marcy: i got a good grade in gem vessel, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve)

“Why would you instigate your own death when you can just run away?”(witney: why die when you can just run to another country and change your name. Just leave. If you dont like it hit da bricks)

SO TRUE WITNEY im glad she gets to enjoy marcy shit talking barrel as well good for them both

“I think,” Marcy murmurs, hugging herself now. “The general consensus we can come to here is that nothing went our way and everything sucks.” (So so true bestie i got it down oat Everything Went So Wrong In Every Way)

If you thought Marcy’d blame herself for my injuries, imagine what’s going through her head when you say shit like whatever the fuck that sack of turds was that you just spat at me.”(That Certainly Is One Of The Explicatives Ive Ever Heard. Definitely A String Of Words Huh)

I think that witney and marcy should get to have fun and be silly. Theyre sl cute i love themmmmmmm. I swear if this goes south fucking immidiately im going to cry theyre so happy rn with their silly little library ideas,,,,,,,,,,,,

HOLY SHIT BRENTON IM SCREAMING THIS IS SO COOL

SOBBING THE BELOVEDS

WITNEY PROBOUNS WITNEY PRONOSUDBDJHSVSVDBFB

“That’s what it always seems like at first,” he snaps quickly. “You get lured in by that protectiveness, that surface-level kindness, and then when it’s done with you, it’ll drop you like dirty laundry.” His tone is devastating, but somehow, with this new information, Marcy feels even more implored to defend the pink gem. (You know what maybe i Will become a Marcy kinnie. Super nice to Witney all the time and holds him so so gently. Defends Strength. Gets headaches from a hole in her mind. Shes just like me frfr)

WOAHHHHHH the mentaö image of this library is So Cool- OH NO EVIL EYE KILL IT

“Isn’t it remarkable what you can accomplish when I bully you into it?” Brenton tells her with a smirk. 

 “You’re a dick,” she shoots back, playfully shoving him.(abkfjfhshshjdjfjd witney,,,,,,,,, i think that witney deserves to be alittle bit of a dick sometimes. Hes earned it)

So what, you just gonna keep being Brenton now?”

 He hums through more laughter. “I did miss it. I think I’d like to stay like this a little longer.” (POV ur witney and i get ur first taste of gender euphoria from a plant)

K MART SO REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Salom,,,,,, that such a cute name,,,,,,,,,

“In fact it was Barrel’s fiancée who taught me how, and she taught me to read his little secret language too.” (🥺🥺🥺 THATS SO CUTE WEIF BELOVED I LOVE THEM )

“By the time I grew knowledgeable enough to comprehend the content of this book, I could no longer bring myself to read it.”(TRADGEDY STRUCK NO SAD BABY :(((((( )

He simply sighs. “Well. Me and Heart did.” And this is news to Marcy. “Before Sasha, Strength only had one vessel. And she was a frog.”

 One?

 One vessel? Witney had 58 and Strength only had one? (hmmmmmmmmmm. I may. Come back to this later. This one got me like 👀 . Im gonna be so normal about this one bestie dont WORRY about it)

“I am to blame for the way Strength lost her.”

 There’s a silence. This time, Marcy knows not to ask. She won’t make a peep. 

 “I don’t think I regret it,” he admits, shamefully. “But I also wonder sometimes if anything would have changed had I not pushed her over the edge.” (WHAT HELLO WHAT I AM 👀👀👀 IM. Bestie i am THINKING. What did you do to weif i am going to Kill you)

They meet her eye, the fire in it boring a hole into their blue oceans. “I…” they start again, dry, hesitant, terrified. “…I’m sorry.” They just barely manage to get it out. Marcy nods vigorously, a gesture to keep going. “Very. For a lot of things. And I…love…you…?”(SCREAMING CRYING GOING TO BREAK A WALL RIP EVERYTHING TO SHREADS HOLY SHIT. HEART?!!??!!! WHY IS IT A QUESTION IM GOINH TO KILL SOMEONE FUCK)

He he. Silly word association. Dont mind me having a little giggle over the fact Heart says theyre the agile one when we had Agility as a Wength kid…

“I am yours. All yours, always and forever.”

 Her head shakes. She begins weeping all over again. “You’re not.”

 “what—”

 “I cannot tell you that, Heart,” she fires back, a sob in her throat. “I am your love, not your king.” (SCREAMING CRYING STABBING YOU RN. I am going FREAL right now Heartney My Beloveds hnnnnnnnnnnn)

Oh hmmm i forgot about the spell pouches. I was gonna be like i wonder what thats like on the gems side but theey just kinda wake them up so they can take control dont they. Nvm.

Uhm on second thought maybe theres more to it then that what rhe Fuck just happened. Side note Anne‘s unconcious body is just In The Field now what are they planning to do to get her back to bed. Im sure this will work out perfectly

Nooo WAIT BUT IF IT GETS RID OF HEART THEN WHAT ABOUT WITNEY TOO NO WAIT BUT WITNEY BELOVED NO COME BACK

WAIT. Wait is it. Wait hold on gimmie a second o don’t remember what maddie or valeriana look like hold on. I feel like tje dots that are in my brain that im connecting right now theres a good chance im wrong but. The dots that are in my brain they are connecting.

hanjdhsgsgshshw well in glad Heart didnt Say anying about the fact its *incredibly* obvious who Sprig‘s ancestor was

“I did no such thing.”

 So this whole time they’ve been blaming Heart for the antler it…wasn’t even them at all?( hmmmmmmmmmmm iiinchressstiiiinnnhhgggggg. Also the bit about the fact Heart has claws and etc. being because of Anne… OH AND THAT WHY ANDRIAS DOESNT GUYS IM CONNECTING THE PIECES)

“Everything I had with him got in the way of what I wanted with them,” they say with venom. “I was so convinced I could only love him, I didn’t allow myself to love them. When I knew I did.” They chuckle sadly. “I want to love them so badly.” (Wow did you know il insane now im never going to be normal again ever ever again this is my life forever now)

WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHERE IS WITNEY NO WITNEY NO WJAT WAIT NO- NO WAIT STOP NO WAIT

NO U

GOOD. CRY

If I don’t make Marcy hold Witney gently very five seconds then I’m doing something wrong

See what I mean

That was the intention

I’m so funny guys. Haha. Remember how. Remember how Marcy only has one eye

It’s because he’s spent her entire life going through fucked up things and therefore doesn’t realize they’re fucked up.

You are welcome in the Marcy Kinnie Community, we have trauma here.

Witney can have a little fun at Strength’s expense, as a treat.

I’m like Marcy. I used to be so smart in school but I am such a dumb of ass when it comes to socializing and the like. And I just keep getting dumber the older I get.

THEY! ARE! SUCH! BESTIES!

Dude literally

More people should think like Witney. Just run away from all your problems.

Shit-talking Barrel is always a great activity for your mental health.

Everything went so wrong and I am so here for it. What fun would this story be if anything went right?

I was having such a hard time coming up with a good line there and I concluded that I am simply not good at it at all.

Let them be silly so true bestie

Bro you have NO idea how excited I was to include Brenton in this, or how HARD it was to keep it secret for seven months. It is truly maniacal.

AND NOW WE CAN TRULY START GENDERING WITNEY

Please come join the Marcy Kinnies. Also I love the whole “defending Strength” thing. Marcy has actually met and had important interactions with Strength, and now that she realizes that, she has her own impression of it. She can’t see how it would be capable of doing something that would spark such hatred on Witney’s part, and more than that, Witney won’t tell her what that something is. Having Marcy and Witney disagree on the matter is very important to me.

This library would be so much fun. And it’s such a perfect place to show Marcy all the different kinds of people Witney has been a part of. Hehe eyeball. You like what I did there?

I MISS Witney’s sass-mouth. Let him be a dick. She has the capability.

LITERALLY

I WILL NEVER LET GO OF K-MART

such a cute name for such an off-kilter little guy.

Dude Leif teaching Witney how to read is one of my most favorite things ever. They have so so much more to their relationship than what was shown in the Heart chap and I’m SO excited to show more of it in the upcoming gem chaps.

Poor Witney having to revisit her tragic backstory :((

ONE VESSEL ONE VESSEL. GGRRRRRR THIS ONE ALWAYS GETS ME SO BAD. If you ever wondered why Strength acts so differently as a gem and why I keep pointing it out, it’s because of THIS.

What I did to Weif? What do I always do to the pink/green relationships??? You can’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.

Oh Heart. Immediately trying and immediately failing to start things back up with Witney. At least Witney is the last person who would judge Heart.

Don’t make me think about Aggie I’ll get sad

HEARTNEY ANGST SO GOOD

Ahh the spell pouches. If you remember from way back in IBYBF 5 when we actually got to see a POV of a spell pouch doing its work,

A sudden blast of purple materializes between her and the gem, filling the water with the hue and prompting the vine to release her leg at once. 

“Aw, leaving so soon—?”

The gem disappears in the cloud, and Anne’s eyes go wide with the realization. 

One of the bundles has gone off. 

Heart quite literally disappears into the cloud of purple. Furthermore we can see with this passage from CMTO 7,

“Do not use anymore of that magic stuff on me,” they demand softly. “It hinders my connection to Anne, and she is expecting a status report. I will return to my realm peacefully. Do you have any final questions before I go?”

Essentially, the pouches work to sever the connection between vessel and gem for a brief period of time, meaning communication and possession become impossible. It muddies the dreamscapes as well, filling them with the purple void and further confusing and disorienting all parties. Now I want you to sit back and come to the understanding that Heart and Anne both spent all of that morning trapped in the void and unable to find each other until Maddie put the incense out. And have fun with that information.

Yes just as it works on Heart, it also works quite well on Witney.

DONT WORRY ABOUT VALERIANA YET

I originally didn’t have the gems react to Sprig’s likeness to Leif because I hadn’t yet fully developed the gem backstory and didn’t know what their reaction would be,, but now I just think it’s SUPER funny that they still don’t.

You’re doing great sweetie. And if you recall, Heart only starting growing the branches and that ‘rhinoceros horn’ in Andrias’s calamity form when they tried to suffocate Leif.

This is also my life forever gODAMMIT I love Heart sm

Hmmmmm where is Witney? I wonder :^)

[loversj0y]

Lmao on the "more like this" waffle for your blog its literally all my asks.

Anyway, here’s part three for the L’manbur thing. 

We’ve established that the reader and Wilbur have some sort of tense, aggressively flirtatious relationship, only bolstered by the fact that the reader is competing against the president in the elections. Although Wilbur is aggravated/a lil jealous by their business and how they’ve managed to garner so much support (see part 1), boy is he thrilled that he gets to formally compete with them. It’s not just for when he wins against them– but also when they manage to one-up him. The VP move, for example? Where the reader appointed their worst political enemy as their VP? Floored him. Tommy was grumbling the whole way back to the White House after that ceremony, secretly wondering why Wilbur looked so damn happy. Just a stupid, dazed grin on his face. 

Because that was a pro gamer political move!!! He’s so proud but also angry, and that fuels this kind of competition he loves. 

A few weeks later, while he’s sitting at his presidential desk, rifling through the stack of papers on his desk just to get an idea of how much he’d have to do that day, a particular letter catches his eye. 

2020 Electoral Proceedings: Notice of Resignation. 

Wilbur opens it, curious. Resignation? Did Quackity finally realize how much of a drunkard Schlatt was and decided to quit?. But it’s not Quackity’s– Or Schlatt’s– name that’s signed at the bottom in loopy, neat cursive. 

He should feel happy: One less candidate to go up against. 

But there’s a sinking feeling in his chest as his eyes scan the paper. ..No additional note or explanation as to why they would decide to back out when the voting was in three days, just a couple boxes checked off and a signature at the bottom. 

That can’t be right. 

They had shown no signs of resigning, a week ago, when he had caught them wandering around the House grounds– offering contracts to his employees, the nerve!-- and had only narrowed their eyes at him when he ordered them to leave. And they had shown no signs of resigning two days ago, when they finally bought a small office complex to run their business from, successfully negating Wilbur’s legislation that had originally prevented them from doing so (See part 1). 

When he arrives at their house two minutes later, the shades are drawn and the door is unlocked. There’s a thick, stale smell of alcohol clinging to the walls– and that’s the only thing in the house. The furniture, the decorations, the food, the clothes, the suitcases, them– it’s all gone. 

The house is empty. 

A letter arrives two days later. It’s a Renunciation of Citizenship notice, all crisp and clean and stamped on L’Manburg White House stationary. 

And at the bottom is that same, damned signature. 

[no, schlatt had nothing to do with this. They just had a traumatic event (still decided what) and dropped out of the election, leaving the country. They weren’t there when Independence was won, so it's not like the country was built for them— but Wilbur still feels hurt. Hadn’t it been enough? What more could he have put into his country to get them to stay? I’d love to hear your thoughts on his reaction to the two letters :)]

[Also, I’d like to think that he doesn’t see them until after his revival. Maybe then, they catch up. But that might be part 4..? I don’t know, I need to organize my lore for that other siren ask]

gasp….. the drama…………

he’d be so distraught, wondering if he did something, if he went too far. he has no clue what happened, and even when he wins, he cant be bothered to feel as excited as he should. because they’re not there to hit him with a snide remark about his policies and he’s just completely almost numb to everything. i imagine he’d try to hire someone to find out where they went and what happened, but he cant do much if they dont want to be found

and YEA finding each other post-revival abd reader has no clue what’s happened to him and is just like “haha, you look like you died and came back to life”

“i did”

“im sorry what the fuck”

and reintroductions ensue :3

(also its bc ur ideas are chefs kiss amazing)

[livingalifeofasimp]

Incurable Love

《♚ SLIGHT YANDERE / POSSESSIVE Zhongli X Reader ♚》

➳ Dynasty Au

➳ Warning : This content contains Yandere themes if you are sensitive please refrain yourself from reading it. This is purely for entertainment purpose, arts and pictures are not mine credits to respective owners, only the content is mine.

❖ You leap through the time to some dynasty and found yourself in the dark forest sunlight scatting through the leaves, on waking up you saw yourself surrounded by some men, the look on their faces made you feel some kind of outsider. They were dressed in traditional wear layers of clothes warped around them secured with leather belts, long hairs, head decorated with pretty accessories.

❖A man came forward glaring, your clothing style made them even more suspicious of you " What is your name? Who sent you here?", Starling you with his strict voice pointing a beautifully crafted weapon yet deadly in your direction that you assumed was sword. "Is this some kind of sick joke, some social experiment Hahah I ain't falling for this", you shouted looking around you for hidden cameras where are they? Other than that, it's illegal to bring people without their consent.  

❖"Stop fooling around answer or die" something in his voice told you this all wasn't a joke as he put his sword near your neck. You cut your skin slightly in the attempts to push the sword away realizing it's not a play. "Do you wanna die so much?, General she doesn't look like an assassin", a young looking guy came forward, "Suspicious, everything about her is suspicious, her words, her clothes, her etiquettes, which country are you from?", Everything felt wrong you took a step back ready to run for your life while they argued with each other.

❖Your heartbeat accelerated as you ran faster than anything to save your ownself, curiously you turned your head and saw an arrow shooted towards you, subconsciously a scream left your mouth before you were pinned by the sharped arrow on the woods. "How bold are you?", General guy mocked you already on his way to grab your neck.

❖"Stop what's is this chaos for?", A deep commanding voice stopped him, he kneel down and bowed followed by all the other guys. "A sceptical girl has appeared, your majesty", he reported to the tall man dressed in all the luxury who made eye contact with yours, you adverted your eyes not wanting to offend these dangerous men after glaring at him. "Is this?", The man bend down and grabbed your chin to get a full view of your face, to find out from where you are.

"I believe people don't want to die unreasonable deaths I will ask you once where are you from?",

 "I am from South",

❖You lied through your teeth making an innocent face these sharp men, hopping to not get caughted by them, his face held a cold expression clearly not showing whatever is going in his mind. "South? From felecoia island?, You hurriedly nodded your head after all you wanted was to get away from them and find your way back. "Why are you here?", "Work I need money to eat", you babbled out anything that could at least save you from his threatening presence. He was surprised, your clothing did amused him, even tho your speaking lacked manners according to the era.

——————————————————————

❖You were forced on Emperor Zhongli's laps reminiscing, if you would have not said the things that you said would you be somewhere else in life, why did it ended up like this?. "What are you thinking about? Today is my birthday, you should be enjoying", he said playing with your silky hair,  you looked at the other side of the hall court officials drinking wine, enjoying, young girls dancing who were selected by the empress dowager so that Emperor Zhongli could choose one of them to be his wife or concubines on his birthday as gift, girls of powerful and influence families, beautiful and perfect in literature were dressed in a seductive way to win Emperor's heart but here he is looking at you with his heart eyes demanding your affection.

❖His face buried in your shoulders leaving kisses and smelling your intoxicating smell that always manages to calm him down, as you try pushing his body away with your hands that he took in his slowly intertwing, pulling your form closer, his left hands encircled your waist as he deepens the kiss running with passion as if he wants you to feel all his love towards you, his overwhelming love and desire that he can't hold back. Noble women looks at you with envy warning you to not get closer to the guy that they love.

❖Zhongli holds your hand to make you walk along side with him which was not done by any other Emperor before. Zhongli knows its wrong but he wants you to love him, piecing pain passes through his heart whenever you say you won't love him, leaving him at the verse of crying. Sometimes his love, loneliness, caring and gentle personality towards you melts your heart but his tendency to get jealous easily in small things makes you think otherwise seeing you pet an animal, he pushes it way and put his head in your lap asking you to caress his hair instead, trying to keep you closer to him all time and hugs you without your consent, making you think maybe it's a good choice to stay with him since you are not able to find your way back home.

❖Whenever you mention your timeline he holds you tight in his embrace afraid to let go so that you won't disappear. Zhongli do not show you his darker side, killing officials or their daughters and maids who plot against you on the spot, cutting their wives, husbands, concubines, sons and daughters' tongue but he isn't afraid to show you his clingingness, holding you down in his bed with him and making you his hugging pillow, trying to win your affection by showing you his pityfull and pathetic, lonely self. Surprising you that the most powerful Emperor who won each battles and states kneel infront of you begs and threatens you to love him.

❖You remember the time when you said, you liked cherry blossoms in one of your friendly lunches with Emperor, the next day you saw your backyard filled with exotic beautiful cherry blossoms trees making your jaw drop, unbelievable how did he managed to do such thing. 

❖"My lady do you like it?, it's specially designed for you, each patterns are threaded perfectly, Royal tailors had spent sleepless nights to make this masterpiece asked by the Emperor", a representative tailor girl said as she carefully put the luxurious red robe around you looking for some mistaken errors trying not to displease the ruthless Emperor. Suddenly guards announced his arrival which caused head maids to retreat back, bow down and leave the chamber immediately as Zhongli springed towards you, trapping you in a hug.

❖"You look so beautiful my Empress, this should be enough", you tried to moved away from him "Empress who?, I am not any Empress", Zhongli poked your cheeks "Quit joking my love", he walked around you and stopped behind you causing you to be nervous who knows what he is planning?, Zhongli caressed your back or rather the pattern design, thread made of gold, it's Dragon's symbol which symbolizes protection, power, luck and wisdom most importantly possession of Emperor, with this on, no one will dare to come closer to you or lay their eyes on you and disrespecting you would be equal to violating Emperor's order, the punishment served will be execution, it's a simple warning to everyone.

❖Zhongli's touch caused you to jump and due to reflex you turned around to look at him, just what is this man thinking?. Zhongli grabbed your right wrist and pulled you to him making you clash against his hard toned chest, he affectionately caressed your left cheeks too drunk in your view to realize your struggles and kissed your right cheek lovingly before whispering in your ears with his deep husky voice a templating offer, "Be mine, let me love you and I will give everything you want, you are the only one I need, I am not asking much, my Goddess please be kind to me, grant me the chance to get your love, your precious than any treasure I own", before enveloping you in a desperate hug.

❖When he hugs you so affectionately but securely telling you how much he loves you that he can kill anyone, forcing you to promise that you will never leave his side whenever he finds out about your escape attempts from the shadow guards, dangerous then any other trained soldier who were assigned to guard you more like to prevent you from escaping, no wonder you always get caughted some or the other way each time you try.

❖You where gazing at all the other princes ( Emperor's brothers) gathered in imperial garden who knew they looked so handsome when Zhongli turned your face towards him by holding your chin with his index fingers " Your Highness.....what?", his angry face scared you after all he can execute anyone he wants "Go inside and wait for me", stealing a delicious view away from you "But", "Show her way inside", he commanded your maids who draged you inside.

"You should be my concubine"

"No way I will never share my husband with anyone I want to be his only wife and him to be my only husband".

❖You smiled to yourself satisfyingly he got no chance other than to leave you but instead of seeing a disappointed Zhongli you saw a blushing Zhongli, his Chief assistant was shocked who immediately turned his head in some other direction to not get his eyes plug out by the tyrant.

❖"How can I be so stupid, you shall be my only wife and be mine forever I shall be yours forever my dear wife", Zhongli said taking your left hand in his long pretty muscular hands and kissed your ring finger as your smile disappeared realizing that you digged your own grave.

[kashimos-hajime]

pretty face on a pretty neck | b.b.

summary: they aren’t fucking dating. not fucking friends, either. no, bucky just fucks romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works. and sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

WARNINGS: a tiny bit of smut (18+), fingering, choking, swearing, drinking, brief mentions of cheating, bucky’s just really fucking jealous, mentions of a shitty relationship and self-doubt from it, the dark knight spoilers, fluffy end!! pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader, brief steve rogers x fem!reader lmaoo  word count: 5.5k

a/n: this is a cute lil piece written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​​​​​​! my prompt was “you called me, remember?” inspired by kiwi by harry styles. 

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

You weave through the crowd, glistening like some glazed dessert that he can’t wait to get his mouth on. Your lips are shining with a swipe of that sweet lipgloss he loves to suck off and you’re wearing that black dress.

The black dress. Shorter than short, showing every inch of skin yet not enough.

You toss your head back, exposing that neck that he loves to bite to Steve who grins, glad his joke landed. Stifling a scowl, Bucky grabs his scotch and throws it back, desperate not to grab you and throw you into a stall just to mark you up as his.

You had made him promise, after all. No socialization outside their little nightcap sessions that often lead to… well, Bucky’s game for anything really.

A cigarette is pinched between your lips and Steve helps you light it with a flick of his lighter, the burning embers glowing in the dark, seedy bar. Leaning on the bar counter, you talk to Sam wiping down his station and he nods, eyes dragging over your face and Bucky cannot tear his gaze away as Sam pours you three shots of vodka. You blow out a lungful of smoke, cigarette pinched between two fingers before glancing at Steve and making some sort of bet, based on the way your lips curl.

They go down like water, dripping down your chin and you laugh when Steve wipes it off your collarbones before he grabs your chin and smashes his lips against yours. You immediately reciprocate, mouth opening as he bends you over the bar, his hair golden and his hand trailing up your thigh.

“Fucker,” Bucky mutters, finally managing to rip his gaze away. A heat blazes through his stomach.

Stupid fucking party for damn Romanoff’s birthday. Sometimes he hates being some of the oldest friends that redhead knows. It makes him feel creepy, wading through a sea of college students that are only one or two years younger than him. Steve himself is finishing his last year, so he’s sure he doesn’t share Bucky’s plight of feeling old.

He wishes he could just approach you and ask to leave, pin you against the wall of his apartment, take you like he knows Steve’s going to later, but he can’t.

You aren’t fucking dating. Not fucking friends, either.

No, Bucky just fucks Romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works.

And sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

“Not enjoying yourself, James?” Birthday Girl Romanoff asks, appearing at his shoulder and he turns to her, shifting in his seat.

“Steve’s too busy chatting up your friend for me to do anything,” he replies, keeping his tone light and Romanoff glances at where Steve’s made his way to kissing up your neck, your fingers carded through his hair.

“Give him a break,” Romanoff says. “They both need to get laid.”

“You don’t think she’s getting laid?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Every fucking guy I’ve met has said they wanted to get with her at least once.”

“Sounding a bit jealous over someone you claim to hate, James,” the redhead teases, sipping on her mojito with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just saying. All the boys were saying they were into it.”

“And you?”

“She’s… a brat.”

“Seems to me that you’re into that,” she hums, leaning on his shoulder. “Honestly, it would’ve been better if you two met before her and her stupid boyfriend did. Ever since she moved in with Rumlow…” The woman trails off and Bucky absently fills in the blanks, she’s faked every single orgasm she’s had with him. “I don’t know. He’s a fucking prick. Doesn’t treat her like she deserves.”

“Does he—“

“No. Just… never a priority, is she? Why else is she here alone?” Natasha pauses, as if debating how much to tell him, then adds, “Then he gets all pissy about where she’s been. On his beck and call, isn’t she?”

“Asshole,” Bucky replies distantly. Steve has his hand basically up your dress and he watches as your legs pull him closer, your lips running along the shell of his ear. “You’re endorsing your best friend cheating on her boyfriend, you know, when we could just be beating him up”

“Hey. She said she was going to break up with him. I can’t make those choices up for her and I’m not about to land any of my friends in jail trying to be my ride or dies.” Romanoff shrugs, glancing at her friend. “Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, does she? It’s not like she can move into my dorm or move back into her parents across the country.” Bucky watches as you hook your legs around Steve’s waist and he hoists you into his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

By the direction, Bucky can guess the destination and some distant part of his head whispers, She could move in with me.

“Might want to avoid the bathrooms for a while,” he comments and Romanoff snorts, the ice crackling by her straw as she stirs her drained glass.

“I’m going to go get laid, too,” she replies frankly. “Don’t stay brooding in the corner, Barnesy-bear. Your face is one worthy of being sat on.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the redhead slips into the crowd and Bucky gets up, plucking his jacket and leaving the bar. His pants are tight with the thought of your mouth and the sound of your gasping breaths echoing in his ear. The feeling of your fingers scratching down his back makes him roll his shoulders back as he flags a cab.

So what if you’re fucking Steve?

It’s not like he’s exclusive with you.

He can’t fault his best friend for having excellent fucking taste.

As he enters the cab and tells the driver his address, he wonders how the fuck someone like Rumlow snagged the title as your boyfriend when there are so many other options.

Steve being one, but he’s still living on-campus.

Bucky doesn’t want to say it, but maybe he, with his own apartment and steady job and intimate knowledge of your desires and interests and needs, is the other.

.

It’s two weeks later when he finally sees you again, at Romanoff’s birthday function at the beach. Something with closer friends, in broad daylight at a beach house Romanoff’s parents own. She and Sam are already there by the time Bucky gets there, unpacking in rooms for a weekend stay.

“Take any room you like,” Romanoff calls from upstairs and Bucky does so, choosing one of the few rooms on the main floor just as another figure walks in.

“I’m here, Nat!” Your voice echoes against wooden walls as Bucky pokes his head out of his room to see you there. He doesn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not that he’s glad Steve hasn’t sated your hunger when you show up alone, shorts riding up your thighs and a t-shirt that is so sheer it does nothing to conceal the bikini top you wear beneath it. “I’m taking my usual room.”

“Fine with me!”

With that, you walk down the hall, eyes meandering over the living room and kitchen. Bucky’s throat closes up when you walk past the stairs to stop at his room and you smirk all saccharine at him.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He scans your face for a moment. “You came. Thought you’d still be sucking Steve’s face off like you were back at the bar. Or… sucking his dick. Whatever floats your boat.”

“Well, that was a one-off thing. Heat of the moment,” you dismiss, leaning against his door frame and he hates the way you look against the wood. Makes something in him stir, makes the blood run hot and his mind focus on one image in particular.

“What’d your boyfriend say when he saw your neck fucking marked up?” he asks, uncaring of the thin ice he stands upon. You frown, arms crossing.

“I was careful,” you reply tightly, “and I didn’t let him leave any marks.”

Bucky can’t help the small flash of satisfaction at hearing that. “You’re not careful with me. I like seeing your neck tatted up with it,” he comments, his hand twitching to wrap around your throat as he lifts his finger to trace the soft, pulsing vein along your neck. You tilt your chin up, eyes narrowing with amusement.

“I’m not yours, Barnes.”

“What you say tells me differently, princess.” Dropping his hand to grab your wrist, he pulls you into his room and slams the door shut, pinning you against it with a harsh push. You exhale sharply, the breath pushing out of your lungs as your bags drop with a disant thump. His senses zero in on everything about you, the light scent of the sunblock smeared into your skin, the cotton twisting beneath his fist as his other hand finds your neck on its own accord. “You’ve been distant lately, kitten.”

He can feel your racing pulse against his palm as you smirk, hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against you. Every inch of his skin is pressed against yours as you hike a leg up onto his hip. His hand at your waist immediately goes to cup it and you loop your arms around his neck innocently.

“I’ve had a lot of work to do. Brock and I…” You let out a soft hum as if to ponder but he knows it’s just to piss him off, “spent some time alone. Romantic trip out of town. Then, I had other things to do.”

“Did you?” It’s not a question Bucky wants answered as you nod demurely, lips twisted into a smirk. He wants nothing more than to yank your shorts down, spin you around, and have you screaming his name as he takes you again and again. He’s been blue balled for two weeks and you haven’t answered any of his calls.

Now, he knows why.

“So, that stupid boyfriend of yours was with you, huh?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he leans in close. He can taste the vodka in your mouth still, the vodka he never got to taste two weeks before in a bar, along with something fruity. Your gum, maybe, or an orange that you sucked clean off its peel. “And then what? Did you hop off after you faked your way through a few nights with him and head for Steve’s? Hm?”

“Temper, temper, James,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. His entire body is alight, every nerve shooting sensations through his limbs as your fingers curl against the nap of his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous, yeah.” His hand on your thigh trails up and inward, sneaking past the hem of your shorts as you lower your leg to hook on his calf, pulling him infinitely closer. His dick is pressing against his swim shorts, completely obvious and painfully hard against your navel as he shifts his hips just enough to let his hand sneak further up your shorts. “Why would I be jealous?”

His fingers find the silky slip of your bikini bottom and brush over the junction of your hip, smirking at the tremble he can feel course through your body.

“You wanted me that night at the bar,” you whisper as he slowly trails deeper inward. “Tell me that isn’t true.”

“Who didn’t, hm?” He smirks when you turn your face away, biting your lip at his fingers dancing around a spot already slickening with anticipation. “C’mon, princess. You telling me you didn’t wear that black dress for me? Look at me.”

You refuse and he rubs his thumb into the side of your neck, dipping his head to bite at your collarbones.

“Look at me, princess,” he whispers, lifting his head to see your defiant gaze meeting his. “Tell me the truth about the black dress.”

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you bite back softly, “to fuck me in.” His hand tightens, just barely around your neck and your eyes flutter shut. Oh, how badly he wants to ravage your lips, lock you in this room and just take you in every way you want…

“Trying to make me jealous, kitten?” he rasps as your hips roll against his dick and you bite your lip, chin tilting up as your nails dig into his skin. Because it worked.

“So what if I was?”

“Then, you’re going to have to pay for it.” He spins you around and moves to shove his shorts just past his hips. You let out a sharp exhale at the pressure of his hand against the back of his neck, your hands pressed flat against the door. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?”

His swim shorts fall and he tugs your shorts down just past your ass, tracing the smooth curve of it with an arrogant curve to his lip. His lips find your neck, nipping lightly before raising to your ear.

“I asked you a question.” His hand lands on your ass, kneading it with warm, familiar fingers and his words are a warning. In the silence, he can almost hear you rolling your eyes, struggling not to moan when he feathers smooth skin, tempts you with tiny brushes between the legs.

“You gonna keep talking, Barnes, or you gonna prove a point?”

His fingers hook on your bikini bottom, pulling the elastic away with an amused grin before letting it snap back against your skin.

“I don’t know. Are you gonna continue being a fucking brat?” He squeezes your neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you almost seem to melt against the door before he drags those bikini bottoms down too. Rolling his hips flush against your ass, he smirks when you shudder and try to thrust him in with a messy jerk back. “Aw, did you miss this?”

“Wouldn’t miss a thing about you,” you reply but it comes out strangled as his other hand wraps around your hip, travels down your navel. It wraps around your waist, keeps you tight against him as you smother his wrist between the door and your hips. When his fingers find your bud, you let out a soft sigh at the pressure he begins to rub into you and he smirks, biting the shell of your ear.

“C’mon, princess. You can admit it if you like,” he murmurs. Your fingers dig into the wood as you try to push yourself—in what direction, away from his hand, towards it, Bucky doesn’t know. He reaches farther down, fingers tracing through slick heat and he chuckles huskily against your skin, biting lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “‘S that all for me?”

“Shut up,” you growl. Your eyes flash to him and he pushes you flush against the door, your head falling back against his shoulder as cock nestles itself between your cheeks. So close, not quite there. His hand on your neck travels forward, crooking inward and his fingers wrap around a silky neck from the front. He can feel every beat of your heart, the raspy whistle of your breathing. Lips falling to your exposed neck, Bucky sucks marks he knows are going to last if he doesn’t stop himself soon but two weeks has been two weeks too long— “Barnes.”

“Relax… it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper fuck.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“Needy brat.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work at a languid pace inside you. He knows every nook and cranny, every angle that brings you euphoria and he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust, arrogant smile growing when you melt back onto his shoulder, lips slightly parted.

“Don’t have time for foreplay,” you finally manage to croak and you turn to look at him, eyes surprisingly clear for having his fingers in your soaking heat and working you up a steady incline.

“It’s the fucking beach, kitten. They won’t be in a rush to get anywhere.” Your lips are tantalizing up close and he chuckles, fingers pressing gently into your pulse. “How quiet can you be?”

“Try me,” you breathe, chest heavy and eyes filling with assured focus, “bitch.”

Challenge accepted.

Nudging your legs ever so lightly apart, he is about to push in. He can feel your heart beating through your back, a quick, racing drum and your breasts heave with every anticipating breath.

“James! Y/N! Wanna meet Steve at the beach?”

Natasha’s voice breaks the humid tension like a hot knife through butter, and your eyes fly open as if you’ve risen from a trance and he growls, not quite moving yet.

To say nothing raises suspicion.

He hates it here.

“Sure!” Bucky yells back right into your ear, much to your displeasure and he shrugs, trying to repress the smirk as his hand drops and playfully squeezes your breast. You return with a subtle nip to his jaw and he steps back. Your shoulders drop and you turn around, leaning against the door with a soft, condescending smile. Your eyes are blown with a mistiness and your thighs press together as he sucks his fingers clean. Your gaze narrows, he smirks with glee.

“What was that about not being in a rush to get anywhere?” you ask, dismissively sweeping your gaze up and down his body before grabbing your pants and pulling them up. His eyes follow the slow trail of the fabric and he sighs softly between parted lips. “Play one of those audios I know you’ve got on your phone. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you, soldier boy?”

“Don’t put yourself on a pedestal, princess.”

“I’m not.” You pick up your bags and open the door, letting cool sea wind sweep into the room that was cloudy with heat and lust. He can’t help the smile that digs into his cheeks despite how disappointed he is as you shrug innocently. You play the part so well. “It’s just the facts.”

Not for the first time, Bucky is left with the thought that Rumlow doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

.

It’s near the end of the month, the very last day. The thirty-first of May.

You broke up with your stupid boyfriend three days ago. He knows because he looked at your Instagram only to find all the pictures with him gone.

But he wasn’t stalking. He was just…

Curious.

Also, Natasha FaceTimed him and Steve, ranting all about it. So, he came upon this naturally.

Not stalking at all.

“Hey.” Bucky’s lying flat on his bed, naked and the sheets are too warm as he hears you pick up with a disgruntled sigh. “You awake?”

“Am now.” You don’t sound too heartbroken but your voice is a bit thicker than he remembers as you sniff. “What do you want?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I was crying.”

He arches an eyebrow at your blunt response but doesn’t continue that line of interrogation. “Where are you staying?”

“Why does it matter to you? What do you want?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, princess,” he replied dryly. “But if you’re on the streets, I can come pick you up.”

“I’m not on the streets,” you reply sharply in a way that makes Bucky doubt your words. “But fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Princess,” he begins but you cut him off.

“I just needa pack some things. See you in twenty.”

You hang up without another word. He lets his cellphone drop with a heavy sigh, sitting up and pulling on some boxers and some ratty old university hoodie.

It’s another fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on the door and he moves from the kitchen to the door, abandoning the orange juice he poured to pass the time. Swinging open the door to reveal that pretty face, he smirks to hide the concerned expression threatening to overtake his face. You look like hell, heavy eye bags and a wariness that he’s not used to seeing on your bold face. You’ve got luggage by your legs and a backpack is strapped to you as you regard him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You called me, remember?” you reply dryly. He steps aside, inviting you in. Walking in, toeing off your sneakers, and shedding your jacket, you let your backpack drop as Bucky pulls your luggage in. “Woke me up and everything.”

“Yeah, I bet I woke you up from your beauty sleep,” he snorts and you roll your eyes as his eyes trail over the dull skin of your shoulders, the limpness of your hair. He closes the door behind him, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his stomach. “Your boyfriend didn’t even give you time to find a new place?”

“No. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Just a guy you used to fuck on occassion who couldn’t even make you come,” he says sagely and you sigh, rolling your eyes again.

“Are you describing yourself?” The words make blue eyes flash to meet yours and you smirk at the dangerous warning glimmering in his irises. Cocking your head, you shrug and lean against his dining table. “So, what do you want?”

“Why do I ever call you here if it isn’t for fucking you, huh, princess?” he muses, but even he can’t find the reason anymore. Whatever libido he was housing had melted in the time between you hanging up and you arriving at his apartment. As you stand before him, his blue eyes flicker from your exhausted face to the way your body seems strung out and on high alert. He sighs, too. “I didn’t want you in some seedy motel where the locks don’t work and the concierge is probably on the registered sex offender’s list. That sound good enough for you?”

You smile, the only thing familiar about you, and it sends a wave of relief through him. “Being nice isn’t your colour, Barnes.”

“Go take a shower,” he retorts, plucking your bag from the floor by your feet and he notices you don’t protest when he grabs your jacket and throws it in the hamper. “Then, we’ll talk.”

“Fine.” You’re unnaturally obedient as you head silently for the bathroom and he brings your luggage to the living room, setting it by the couch and laying it flat. Unzipping it quickly, he grabs the clean clothes he can find right off the bat and goes into his room to put them on his bed so you can grab them as soon as you come out. You’re standing in his bathroom, shedding your tank top and he grabs some clean towels.

It’s a strangely intimate silence as he offers you the towels and you dip your head in thanks. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on your bicep and he reaches tenderly for it, fingers barely brushing your skin.

“Did he—” The anger comes unbridled, hot and heavy and dark, in his voice and you don’t even jerk out of his touch. You’re completely relaxed in his presence as you look at your reflection in the mirror, so unlike a few minutes before when you’d been a ball of tension and you shake your head. His thumb gently digs into your skin and he can feel the pulsing heat of it. It’s fresh. Not even a day old, probably.

“No. I was walking and it was dark. Guy was coming out of a cab and didn’t see me standing there. Got whacked by the door,” you assure, pulling your arm out of his loose hold. Unbuttoning your pants, you continue to undress as he stands there, eyebrows knitting together. The air is wrought with an energy he’s unfamiliar with and he withdraws but your hand reaches for his wrist. Wide eyes dart to your face and he’s shocked by the surprisingly soft smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, uh, sure. Hungry?”

You let go of his wrist and his skin is tingling. He rubs at it absently as you nod, your strange smile ever present. “Starving.”

“I’ll whip you something to eat.”

As he’s stirring Kraft Dinner around in a bowl, he listens to the shower run and thinks.

Or doesn’t think.

Time seems to pass in such a strange way. He’s cooking for you and you’re in his shower and nothing about this is normal or something he’s used to, but it’s not something he hates.

The shower turns off just as he’s sliding the mac into a bowl and he pours you a glass of water before finishing his own abandoned cup of orange juice.

Your footfalls are light and you smell like his shampoo as you sit down at his kitchen island, clad in the clothes he laid out for you.

“It’s just some Kraft I had lying around,” he says uneasily, pushing the bowl towards you but you take it anyway with a shrug and a easygoing smile. You look more awake after the shower and colour has worked its way back into your lips. There’s new life in your eyes as you eat and Bucky, satisfied, heads for the couch just to watch whatever’s on until you’re done.

Everything seems so strange, mundane, almost… domestic as you eat, scroll your phone, and he watches The Dark Knight just because it’s on. He watches the movie blindly, his mind still going a mile a minute and his body unintentionally becoming attune to yours in a way he only knows with when he’s fucking you.

But now, he knows how you move, knows when you’re putting your bowl in the sink and knows when you’re walking towards him by the way his heart starts beating just a millisecond quicker, the gentle give of his couch as you sit down beside him. Your eyes burn into his cheek and he glances at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Come here,” he allows, lifting his arm from the pillow and you scoot closer, pulling the pillow into your lap and hugging it tight. He rests his arm along the back of the couch. “You didn’t die of food poisoning. Pity.”

“You’d have to be truly something to fuck up Kraft Dinner, Barnes,” you reply dryly, smirking at him and he suppresses a snort as you tuck your knees up. “It was good. Although, I hope you’re not living off of that stuff.”

“I do take out every once in a while,” he says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“I’m a college student and I can cook better than you.”

“You’re one year younger than me. We’re not so different.”

“Whatever you say.”

Bucky can’t help the amused smile edging its way onto his face as you fall into silence, watching the movie, too. One thing Bucky’s always liked about you, even if he didn’t like anything else, is that you share a lot of the same interests as him. They had whole rants on how terrible some movies were, or the disappointment that was some TV finales. It always made pillow talk a fun time, if they ever made it to that stage. 

It was more often than not either of them would wake up before the other and just head out without a single word.

Bucky finds he likes your companionable silence more than he thought he would. Maybe he should’ve indulged pillowtalk a bit more. By the small, sated smile on your lips, he wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

“You know,” you say after a while, “when I said at the beach house that you wanted me…” Your voice rouses Bucky from his trance of staring at the TV. The credits are rolling and he hadn’t even realized. So lost in his thoughts he was near the end, thinking about Rachel’s letter to Bruce and hyper aware of your every shift in your seat beside him, the movie seemed to pass by in a blink.

Something about the long lost melancholy of lost chances…

Bucky’s never been fucking sentimental, but even he can see the chance that Bruce Wayne really… really missed out on, and the blue-eyed man doesn’t want to be in that position ever. To do the right thing only to find out it’s too late. Because she died in the end, didn’t she? She died and he was alone even though he tried…

“What?”

“At the beach house,” you repeat. “When I basically told you that you wanted me…” you say with a roll of your eyes, “it was just teasing, foreplay.” Then, more seriously: “But I guess I was being like Two-Face. Double entendres, innuendos, all that.”

“You’re going to become a vengeful, homicidal DA?” he quips wryly and you huff in faux irritation, poking him lightly in the chest.

“No. God, use that brain inside that pretty little head of yours for once.”

“Aw, you called me pretty.”

“Barnes.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Well, what I was saying… When I said you wanted me… God, this is stupid. Feel free to just punch me in the face after, but…”

“But?” Eyebrows knitting together, he looks at you and you pull the blanket up to your face, embarrassment telltale in the way you avert your eyes. He gently pushes the blanket down, muting the TV and waiting patiently. You look more alive that you did the first minute you walked into your apartment and you look like you want to bury yourself in the blankets but he’s not going anywhere and you stare at him, lips pressed into a flustered line. “I’m not going to punch you in the face. You can just tell me.”

“I guess… I just... I wanted to believe that you wanted me,” you state, shaking your head, “for me. Like some affirmation that there’s a possibility you could ever want me like that, and… I’m being dumb. I swear I’m not usually like this, all sentimental and shit, but it’s just I feel like shit and you don’t care about any of that and Brock… I broke up with him because I know he doesn’t love me even if he says he does and that I deserve better but I just… it gets to me, you know? It fucking gets to me when I’m all alone and now I am alone and if he didn’t put me first... maybe it’s because I’m not wanted.”

“Hey, princess,” he murmurs, reaching for your hands and you surrender to him easily as he cranes his head to keep your eye contact despite you ducking your head. “I don’t judge you for any of that shit and that’s wrong. He’s a fucking prick, and people want you here. Romanoff, Steve, Sam…” Me.

“I know. I know and I just… I’m scared because I have nowhere to go. And, you’re always honest with me, and just slap me in the face because… I can’t believe I’m asking you this what if… what if everyone’s gonna treat me like Brock did? What if no one will ever really want me?

There’s a beat.

Then, two.

He’s squeezing your hands so hard he’s surprised you haven’t drawn away but then he realizes your fingers are clutching onto him even tighter, his bones wincing as you crush his digits.

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid—”

“No, you’re not.” Bucky shakes his head and you—fourth year college student and someone he shouldn’t be attached to because you two are so different but he is because you two are so alike—are something else. No one has gotten under his skin like you have.

You’re not fucking stupid. Because I do want you. In a way. In more than one way. And you are irritating and burn so fucking bright and you’re fucking bold, but—

I want you.

He doesn’t say any of that.

And it’s complicated, but that’s how the universe fucking works.

“You’re free to stay here for however long you need to,” he tells you quietly, seriously. “I don’t care how long it is, and there are no catches. Just… just don’t give that fucker another chance, yeah? ‘Cause there’s always gonna be someone who wants you, kitten. Someone who’ll treat you right.”

You smile faintly, knees tucked to your chest and hair still a bit damp from your shower. You’re warm, soft, with no cigarette smoke clouding your silhouette and no glossy sheen of alcohol. You look like you in a way Bucky’s never known before.

He thinks this beats you in any kind of black dress.

“Okay,” you accept and you lean over first to kiss him. It’s a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, an innocent, flitting thing, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He eases against the couch and you lean against his chest, cuddling close against him. His arm falls around your shoulders, holding you tight to him and you melt against him just like he does around you.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

[matsbarzal]

can I please request angst #14 with Petey??

angst #14. "are you going to talk to me or?"

pairing: elias pettersson x reader word count: 1.3k warnings: angst (happy ending)

Elias Pettersson knew he was good at lots of things. He knew he was a good person, a good friend, an even better hockey player. But the one thing he wasn’t good at? Understanding what he had done to upset you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have a relatively good understanding of the stupid things he did, he knew he had made plenty of mistakes in your relationships, easily fixable ones, really. Except this time.

It had been almost four days of complete radio silence, no text, no call, no FaceTime’s, nothing. You had sent him a thumbs up the moment he landed and told you he had landed, and no response since. Elias could easily tell you had been on your phone, snapchat stories and twitter likes popping up on both his feeds every now and then, but he could not fathom why you hadn’t texted him in days.

You had fought hundreds of times before, little spats here and there, petty arguments that just turned into nothing when he brought home your favourite food, but never an argument to the extent that you wouldn’t even text him.

“You alright over there, Petey? Lookin’ a little queasy… oh shit that rhymed, look at me go,” trying to ignore Brock was even more difficult than trying to understand why you weren’t texting him, especially when said blonde was his best friend and could pick up on every social cue Elias was giving off.

“Fine, yeah.”

Shrugging his shoulders slightly, the Swede thumbed through his phone, bringing up your contact card and then exiting out every few seconds. “Y/N still not texting you? You sure you didn’t do anything before we left?”

Tossing the phone onto the table in front of him, Elias groaned as he tried to rack his head for what he could’ve done wrong before leaving Vancouver. There was a multitude of things it could be, there was a spat right before he left the apartment, an argument over moving the cars, which somehow turned into him suggesting that the two of you should get a dog.

The Swede couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment in your last two days with one another where he might have upset you to the point of not speaking.

Halfway across the country, your eyes had barely left the box you had found sitting in Elias’ top drawer since he left. It was all you could focus on, your eyes constantly moving to find the little black box that you had moved to the top of the dresser, its closed lid haunting you, taunting you the more and more your eyes peered to it.

Elias hadn’t made any indications that this was what he was pushing towards, you hadn’t even realized he was considering this. Two years into a relationship, you knew it was possible, but you just didn’t realize how possible.

You loved him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t, but did you love him enough to get married? Maybe. But add in the constant bickering, the continuous fights, the never-ending spats that had no regular conclusion and usually just consisted of some form of idiotic makeup in the hopes the both of you would forget about what you were arguing for anyways.

The silent treatment may have been petty, all of Elias’ texts going unanswered, snapchats only being sent back every time the timer would appear next to your streak. You knew it was childish, and was probably terrifying your boyfriend, but your brain couldn’t fathom what to do, couldn’t fathom what you wanted.

The game against the Canadiens had been explosive, the Canucks losing horrifically, and Elias’ play just an even bigger catalyst to the team. It was the first game you had watched where he hadn’t played his best, the turnovers were consistent, his numbers were down, his penalty minutes were even higher than usually.

And you knew there was a large possibility you were the main cause for his deterioration of play.

Pulling up your phone from its spot stuffed under the covers, you scrolled until you reached his contact name, the little blue dot beside it just an indication of how many messages had gone unanswered in the last few days. Before you even had the chance to send a message through, his contact name appeared at the top of your list.

are you going to talk to me or am i going to come home to an empty apartment tn? not sure what i did wrong but this isn’t fair

You could feel the guilty instantly seep through your body at the text message, your eyes welling up with unshed tears at the message that came through. Elias was your best friend, the epitome of everything good in your life, and something about that just terrified you.

i’ll be here when u get home, ‘Lias. have a safe flight xo

A large sigh of relief left the Swede’s lips when the three bubbles popped up under your name, an even bigger sigh leaving his lips when you said you’d be home when he got there. He allowed his phone to drop in between his legs, his eyes focusing on the iPad in front of him, currently playing reruns of New Girl, your favourite show to watch together.

Almost six hours later, you heard the sound of the lock clicking, the door swinging open to reveal a dishevelled and thoroughly exhausted-looking Elias Pettersson.

“So, are we going to do this now? I told Brock to set up his guest bedroom, I’m not arguing all night so let’s just get this over with,” his keys were tossed onto the centre island, his eyes never leaving yours as you tried to rack your brain for what to say.

“I found the ring… in your top drawer.”

Your stomach turned as you watched the array of emotions fly across Elias’ face; confusion, frustration, anger, sadness, everything smoothing together before he placed a stoic look across his features.

“You freaked out and ignored me for almost five days, because you found a ring in my drawer?” The scoff fell from his lips almost beautifully, his features twisting into annoyance as he looked at you.

“I just… I didn’t know how to react. We argue about everything, ‘Lias. We literally fight about the colour of the sky, and you’ve already bought a ring?”

Moving so he was sitting on the couch opposite of you, the Swede turned so his entire body was facing you, the stoic look now turning into a look of concern.

“Y/N… we fight about everything because that’s just how we are. Our fights have never, ever turned into anything serious. We argue with each other because we both never want to be wrong, that shouldn’t be a reason for you to freak out and not want to marry me one day, my love. Just because I have the ring doesn’t mean I want to get married tomorrow. It’s my grandmother’s engagement ring, Emil let me have it for the day I eventually propose to you. I didn’t buy it, it’s been sitting in that drawer for ages.”

You could feel the embarrassment settling in your stomach at his words, your stomach turning as you tried to think of a response. The only thing you could muster up was an apology, your eyes never leaving your hands as they twisted amongst each other.

His body moved closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your back as he gently pulled you into his side.

“You don’t need to apologize, just maybe instead of going ghost, argue with me instead? Since when are you one to hide your feelings, especially something like that?”

Shrugging your shoulders at his words, you felt his lips press against the crown of your head gently, his hands squeezing your side as he did so.

“Pinky promise that you won’t do that again? Scared the shit out of me and Brock, and Brock never gets scared.”

Pushing your pinky finger towards him, he wrapped his own around yours with a smile small, his head pressed against yours as he squeezed your pinky with his own.

“And quit going through my drawers, nerd.”

“Don’t leave your clothes in the dryer then and I won’t have to put them away for you, Pettersson.”

note: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you enjoy, and it's everything you wanted. it's not too angsty, and it has a happy ending so hopefully that's perfect. <3

[roger-that-cap]

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk. 

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded. 

Wands, 

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”. 

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her. 

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic. 

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this. 

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told. 

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation. 

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters. 

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number  

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together. 

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting. 

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different. 

 You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything. 

 Sunshine, 

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright. 

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school? 

 I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think? 

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did. 

You loved her. You really did. 

§§§

 It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head. 

  You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.  

 So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her. 

 You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was. 

 You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.  

 You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all? 

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that. 

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl. 

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home? 

Moonlight, 

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade. 

 I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. 

  Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two. 

  I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way. 

 If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset. 

 It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight. 

 Your Sunshine, Wanda. 

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about. 

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any. 

  She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper. 

  Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have. 

  Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it. 

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that. 

  Sunshine, 

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier. 

§§§

 By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink. 

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around. 

  The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient. 

  And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss. 

  The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

 But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage. 

   Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too. 

 The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers. 

  You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known. 

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came. 

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth. 

 Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well. 

  You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it. 

  You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all. 

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda. 

  A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression. 

 Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you. 

  Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

 “O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment. 

 “You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

  Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

 “I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her. 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.” 

 The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.” 

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it. 

 But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed. 

 You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?” 

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.” 

 “Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?” 

 You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

  Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know. 

  You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.” 

 She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?” 

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway. 

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready. 

 You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it. 

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her. 

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?” 

 “I love you.” 

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.” 

  “More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought. 

 You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently. 

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.” 

 You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close. 

  Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too. 

  You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life. 

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

[teddy06writes]

With Ghastly Consequences

Part Two of A Dangerous Game

{I wasn’t going to do this till later but ThE IdEaS were flowing}

Requested by this anon: “I don’t mean to be a bother but if you could possible make a part 2 for the “a dangerous game” fic that you made? It was amazing!!”

and this one: “ Dude I need more poly Dream team with SBI family reader what if reader came back as a ghost but it’s like Ghostbur so she doesn’t remember everything?”

Sooo....

Dream x George x Sapnap x Reader + sleepy boys x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, mentioned character death (its you, you died in the last one)

premise: after your death, everything was hazy; this is an account of the events sparked by your ghostly return

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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

You’d drifted, for a while, in a greyish abyss for a while, knowing that there was a choice to make. 

The void, though being of course, a void of nothingness, was peaceful, and gave you time to come to terms with what had happened, and come to the solution to the question. 

And as soon as that happened-

You were gone again. 

~~

“Philza!” 

The man froze over the brewing stand, the bottles in his hands beginning to tremble, “(y/n)?” 

“Dad!” You grinned as he turned around, looking dumbfounded, “I didn’t know you were coming here- when did you get in? Oh I can’t believe you finally came!” 

“D- Do you not remember?” His voice was low, shaking almost as much as his hands. 

“Course I remember- well I remember some stuff. Like you and Tommy and Techno and Home and- and Pogtopia- and Dream and George and Ni- Sapnap- oh- wait-” your voice dropped to a whisper, “You know how they were- y’know, my partners?”

Your father nodded. 

“Don’t tell Wil,” You said quickly, “He’ll get mad.” 

He nodded blankly again, still staring at you. 

“Well what's with you? Why’re you looking at me like that?” 

“Y- It’s just- your back. I- I was devastated- more than- when WIlbur- er- when you died. But n- but your back.” There was quiet relief in his voice. 

You nodded, “Course I’m back. Like you could get rid of me that easy.” 

Phil dropped the bottles onto the crafting bench, rushing forward in an attempt to embrace you. 

You shuddered as he passed through your spectral form, sadly mumbling, “Uh, yeah. I kinda pass through things now.” 

Phil smiled sadly, “Still, your back, come on, come on, lets go find Techno, he should still be around here.” 

You nodded, following him down that ladder, “That's what I wanted to ask, where is here? Why are you out in the arctic?” 

“Oh, uh, just to get away from everything, you know who Tech hates his governments.” Phil attempted a joke. 

“Oh, yeah- I wouldn’t want to be there with Shlatt either. Strange he didn’t just go back to pogtopia though.” 

Technoblade looked up from where he was sharpening his axe, at first his face reading confused, then guilty, the carefully blank, “Things have changed (y/n). People, change.”

“Like Wil? I rember Wil being mad about something- do you think- no it wouldn’t be that, I was careful.” 

Techno winced, glancing Phil’s direction, “Uhh, we- we don’t talk to Wilbur any more. Not- not since he- er- not since you died.” 

“That man is no son of mine.” Phil spat.

You looked at him confused, “What happened? Did you get in a fight?”

“It’s- not our place to tell you.” Techno said finally. 

“hmmm, okay! So what have you guys been up too?” 

~~

You hummed a tune, drifting down the prime path, headed towards L’manburg, toward home

Phil and Techno had warned you that things had changed since your death, but that didn’t deter you from going back.

Coming over the hill, you looked over your beautiful country, the walls, which you knew were gone, seemed to be partially rebuilt, and distantly you could see Fundy over seeing construction.

At first glance everything seemed fine, but as you got closer the atmosphere seemed to change, a sort of anxiety hanging in the air over the city. 

Slowly you floated up to the platform your nephew was standing on, “Fundy! You’re rebuilding the walls!”

The fox jumped, “(y/n)?” 

“When Techno said things had changed I didn’t think he meant Shlatt was putting the walls back!” 

“(y/n)- your- your back?” 

“Course I’m back,” You chuckled, “You miss me fur ball?” 

“I- you- your back?” He repeated.

“Yeah, what’s going on round here? Why’d Shlatt have a change of heart- wait- did we win? Did I die and miss us winning? Is Wilbur putting the walls back-” 

“Wilbur isn’t here any more.” Fundy interrupted bitterly. 

Your brow furrowed, “Why is everyone mad at him?” 

“Come on, lets get you too Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo, they’ll-” He sighed motioning for Jack Manifold to take his place, “Well they should tell you at least part of it.” 

He led you down off the platform, toward the podium that still stood in the center of L’manburg, at your look of confusion explaining, “Ranboo’s a new comer. Uh- he’s- different, half enderman, we think, eye contact isn’t his thing, so be aware of that.” 

You nodded as he pushed open the door, “Hey- guy’s drop what your doing, this is important-” there was a small thud, “No not literally Ranboo- it’s a figure of speech.” 

You drifted past him into the room, smiling at the flustered looking enderboy, your brother, and his best friend, “Hello!” 

Tommy’s breath hitched, his lip beginning to tremble, “(y/n/n)?” 

“Hi Tommy! Hi Tubbo! Hi person I’m assuming is Ranboo!” 

The tall boy waved awkwardly, “Hi?” 

Fundy cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh, I have t’get back to work. They’re- confused. I-” He gave Tubbo a ‘this is your problem now’ look before quickly turning and leaving. 

“Uhh... (y/n). You’re- back?” Tubbo laughed as if he couldn’t believe it. 

Tommy was still staring at you in shock, “(y/n)?” 

You drifted across the floor to be near him, “Tommy what’s wrong?” 

Your brother burst into angry tears, “I thought you were gone! I thought that he took you away from me! He- he fucking thought- that bitch thought he could take away my sibling! Just- just because of some- of some fucking-” He fell off into hiccups, tears still falling down his face.

“That bastard! He- he fucking killed- he- and for what? Cuase he didn’t fucking like who you were seeing?” Tommy muttered, moving back past Ranboo to sink into a chair.

“Who? Who didn’t like it?” You asked. 

Tommy let out a bitter laugh as Tubbo looked at you sadly, “It’s- nothing.”

“Hmmm, well, what’s going on here then? Did we win the war?” 

Tubbo nodded, “Wilbur- isn’t here anymore, he- he- sort of betrayed us, and we chased him out. So we’re rebuilding the walls, so he doesn’t do anything else, and me and Tommy are co presidents.” 

You nodded, but were still confused, “What did Wil do? Is it why Phil said he wasn’t his son any more?”

Ranboo gulped awkwardly, “Uh- from what- er I- uh heard, yes.” 

“hmmmm, I hope it wasn’t anything too bad.” You sighed. 

You stayed with them for another hour, talking about L’manburg, and the presidency, until Niki arrived, breathless, having heard you were back, “(y/n/)!” 

“Niki!” You looked over her, something seemed off, less bright, less Niki.

She glanced around the room, “How about we go for a walk, to catch up?” 

There was something desperate in her voice, and you weren’t stupid enough to ignore it, “Of course.” 

She gave you a strained smile, motioning to the door, “Let’s go then.” 

Soon you were out wandering through the city, many of the crowds were gone, though you could see signs of life in open windows, and small restaurants, “Niki what’s going on here? Something isn’t right.” 

“Nothing is right, not since we got rid of Wilbur.”

You looked up at the walls, now seeming to loom twice as tall as they once did, “Tommy and Tubbo- they’re anxious about something.” 

Niki nodded, “The whole country holds its breath. Tommy is angry, and Tubbo is paranoid. They think Wilbur will blow up the country, and that he’ll have help, the walls, the security checkpoints- none of this is what L’manburg was founded for.

“The people are terrified, everyone tells them something different, they’re waiting for the country to be driven into the ground.” 

You gulped (can ghosts gulp?), “Well that isn’t good. Maybe- Maybe- hmmmm, Maybe you should be in charge Niki! You- don’t tell the others- but I think you’d make a better president than any of them!” 

“If I could I would (y/n), but it’s not that simple,” She smiled sadly, looking around with a sigh, “Why don’t you go find your boyfriends? Have you gone to see them yet?” 

~~ “Georgie!” 

The King blinked, quickly pushing back the small sense of hope, he was just imagine things again, he thought to himself, he had to be. 

“George what’s wrong?” 

The voice was closer now, and it was the cold sensation at touched his shoulder that convinced him it was real enough to look, blinking in surprise again at your gray form, hovering next to his desk, “(y/n/n)! Oh my god! (y/n/n)!” 

You grinned, “George!” 

“Your back!” The goggles were quickly pushed off his face, dropped down onto the top of the desk, “Y- your really back!” 

You nodded eagerly, “I missed you! Well- I mean, it wasn’t that long that I was gone. At least I don’t think- anyway I missed you!” 

“I- (y/n) it’s- it’s been nearly a month.” 

You cocked your head, “Huh, that's weird.”

“George who are you talking...” Nick trailed off as he entered the study, “(y/n)?” 

You could see the tears in his eyes as you awkwardly waved, “Hi Nicky.” 

“Holy shit.” He muttered, “I- we thought you were gone- I mean- when- when Wilbur...” 

“When Wilbur what?” You asked with a chuckle, “Everyone keeps saying he’s done something, but no one’s told me what.” 

Both men froze, sharing a looking, “Don’t worry about it.” 

Nick quickly swiped away tears, “So your back?”

You nodded, “I’m back- hey, have you guys noticed how L’manburg’s being all weird now? Niki says Tommy and Tubbo are running the country into the ground.”

“Well- they’ve refused all foreign aid, we tried to offer them help- after the war, paying for damages and such after they sorted out there Wilbur problem,” George sighed, “And so far only Eret’s tried reaching out to talk to us, help with our Dream problem.” 

“Yeah, where is Dream? I miss him and I can’t ping him, cause ghosts don’t have com tablets.” 

“Even if yours hadn’t broken it wouldn’t help. He disappeared after Wilbur- did that thing,” Nick sounded all to broken for your liking, “He hasn’t answered any of our messages.” 

You frowned, “Well that's not like him. Maybe he just left his tablet somewhere- or maybe he just got busy doing something again, you know how he gets during manhunts.” 

“(y/n),” George tried gently, “He- smashed his com tablet, said something about going off the grid, undermining the server. He probably isn’t coming back.” 

You froze, hover in silence for a moment, “No. No that’s not true- he wouldn’t- he wouldn’t leave us! You’re lying to me! He loves us! He’d never leave! It’s not true! He wouldn’t do that! Your lying!”

Nick seemed shocked at the outburst, “(y/n)- we were just as upset but he left- gone insane-” 

“STOP LYING TO ME!” You exploded, “He wouldn’t do that! I know he wouldn’t! Your just lying!” 

They watched you sink to the floor, spectral tears flowing down your cheeks, mumbling, “You’re lying, you’ve gotta be lying, he- he wouldn’t he wouldn’t do that.” 

~~

“Wilbur!” 

Your brother flinched, he’d planned for this, he reminded himself, as soon as he heard the rumor's. 

“(y/n).” He stood up, turning to face you, ignoring how he’d begun to shake. 

He didn’t regret what he’d done. 

At least that was what he told himself. 

He knew what he had had to do, and he done it, and he had no regrets for his actions, because it was all in the plan.

“Wilbur what’re you doing outside L’manburg? I thought they said they chased you out.” 

“I missed it.” He said simply, forcing back the choked noise that had started in his throat upon seeing your grey floating form. 

“Did you miss me? George and Nick said I was gone for almost a month, that that was how long you and Dream were gone for.” 

“Don’t fucking talk about that man.” Wilbur spat. 

At your face of shock and horror at what you said Wilbur grinned, “Oh yeah, I know all about them (y/n). Them, and You, and everything before your death.” 

“Why do you hate them so much?! Can’t you see that they make me happy?! What did they ever do to you?!” 

“THEY TOOK AWAY MY SIBLING! MADE YOU TURN AGAINST ME! AGAINST L’MANBURG!” Wilbur yelled. 

Tears started to slip from your eyes again, “Wil, I never turned against you- your my brother, I love you. Why is it so hard for you to see I’d never turn on you? Who I love has nothing to do with it.” 

“Oh it has everything to do with it!” He laughed, finally managing to shut off the tiny part of his brain that screamed at him to stop, “You’re fucking dead because of it!” 

You blinked, “N- no! It’s not because of them! I died in the war! Dream was trying to protect me! I died so we could be free again!” 

“No (y/n)! You are so fucking stupid! Your dead because I killed you! I killed you because you were turning against me! Because it was the only way to get those fuckers to get there hands off you!” 

You let out a choked sob.

“And guess what? I don’t regret anything. I killed you so that they would suffer! Suffer from loosing you the way I had! And it worked and so none of the cost matters!” 

“No wonder everyone’s mad at you,” You sad shakily, “You’re a monster Wil.” 

“And I’m not the only one.” 

He sounded almost proud, gesturing his chin upward, at a patchwork of scaffolding as being stretched across the sky above L’manburg, distantly you could see someone in a neon green sweater running across the top. 

~~ “Dream, what are you doing?” 

The man only sighed at the serious voice, “Getting revenge. It’s what they would have wanted.” 

“Is it?” 

He finally turned away from the contraption, staring through the slits in his mask at the Spector that hovered in front of him, “So you really are back.” 

“Dream,” You could almost see the wall he had put up when you died, repeating, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to destroy L’manburg.” His voice was cold, steely, too close to that which you remembered from the day he and Tommy had their duel. 

“You think that’s going to make things right? You think that’s going to put me- my spirit to rest?” 

He faltered, “It has too. Wilbur killed you, and now he’s going to pay.” 

Slowly you moved closer to him, across the narrow walk way, “Clay why did you leave them? When did you break your com tablet? You knew they needed you.” 

“I- I had too.” The smile on his mask was all to haunting, a broken reminder of the past. 

“They needed you and you left them. You put them aside, for this? To be a villain?” 

“If I’m a villain then so be it.” 

Down below the people of L’manburg were beginning to raise alarms as you spoke, “They love you. I love you. You don’t- you don’t need to be the villain my love.” 

Slowly he reached up, slipping the mask off his face, “I know, I know but- but this is the only way.” 

Gingerly you reached out, hovering your hand right where it would rest to cup his cheek, “It isn’t the only way. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to cause this destruction.” 

“It’s the only thing I know how to do,” There was anguish seeping in to his voice, “I don’t know if I can do anything else.” 

You longed to embrace him as he fell to his knees, “You don’t have to do this Clay.”

“I don’t know how! I don’t know any other way to make Wilbur pay!” 

“Clay look at me, look at me, there is another way- you don’t have to do this, We love you- we miss you- Nick, George and Me, we can just, climb down and go and find them and then run away together, leave this all behind!” 

“Keep them safe.” He sniffed, wiping away angry tears. 

“Yeah- yeah- we can build a little cottage, and plant flowers in the window boxes- and forget all about this,” You were phasing back into the material world, nearly by Dream’s sheer willpower as he pulled you into his arms, “And we can forget all about this, but only if you don’t do this.”

“I don’t know if I can... (y/n) I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” He sobbed. 

“You are darling. You are. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this Clay, we love you.” 

He sniffed, sitting up a little, one of his arms reaching away, both of your breathing unsteady as you looked up at him, desperation in your eyes...

And then the tnt hit the ground. 

The world exploded into fire, ripping away his words: 

“I love you too.” 

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Canary, Part 1

It was a good day. Why did stuff always have to go wrong on ‘good days’, Marinette thought bitterly as she rushed through the city, the rough edges of her phone digging into her palm. The message she’d been sent was burned into her eyelids.

She pushed the spiraling thoughts from her mind as she stared at the street sign nearest her. Only a minute and she’d be there and her fears would be either confirmed or denied.

She leaned against the wall to gather her thoughts. If she had messed up it had to have been today because, otherwise, he would have done something earlier. Did she mess up? She allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she thought back.

~

She’d woken up on an uncomfortable mattress on the floor and rolled off of it, the sheets sticking to her sweaty skin. It had been a particularly hot day for Gotham and she had been too concentrated on typing up a report for work to turn up the AC before her impromptu nap (translation: she’d passed out).

She rubbed her eyes until she managed to get her brown contacts out and set them in the weird not-quite-water that she had never bothered to learn the name for so her eyes could rest while she took a quick shower and changed.

Then, she’d waited. She sat in the window, eyes barely poking over the sill as she watched the building across the street. She didn’t feel like moving for a long while but, alas, the meeting was supposed to be that day and she was running out of time for that thing with Calendar Man and… yeah. Unfortunately, Marinette had to be productive that day unless she wanted more enemies.

She saw movement and her face lit up. She might get everything done soon, at least, and then she could pass out for a hundred years like she oh-so-desperately wanted to.

She checked that her gloves were firmly in place, pulled on the plague doctor (gas) mask that had accidentally become her trademark, and toed on her boots.

Then, she made her way up to the alleyway next to the building she had been watching. She’d been lucky enough to have a job right next to one of her safe houses and she kinda wished that it would happen again. It was nice to not have to travel a half-hour or more just to listen in on one boring conversation.

She pulled out her knives and, after testing to make sure they were still strong enough to hold her weight, began picking her way up to the roof.

She set everything up for the thing with Calendar Man. It took approximately five seconds. Yay her.

Alright, next thing: listening in on a boring conversation that, if she was lucky, would end in someone getting shot so it wouldn’t last too long. It was going to be even hotter inside the vent and she did not want to end up cooked. That would be embarrassing.

She crawled into the vents and dutifully wrote down everything they said on a notepad. They were negotiating a drug deal and her client wanted to intercept it to try and get both the money and the (… Big D? What the fuck is Big D?) drugs. From the sounds of it, it wasn’t possible but, hey, her job wasn’t anything more than gathering intel. If her clients wanted to die stupidly that was on them.

… maybe she’d kill her client herself, she thought angrily as she readjusted in the vent in hopes of not getting stuck to the metal. It was easy money but wow was it awful.

Or, at least, it was awful until a hand grabbed her by the hood of her leather jacket and started dragging her out. She tipped her head back, grin on her face in seconds.

“Signal. Hi.”

He sighed and pulled her the rest of the way out. She let herself hang from his grip like a reprimanded cat.

“So, what’s up?” She asked brightly, as if hadn’t just caught her listening in on a private conversation.

“Great, thanks for asking,” he said. “Even better now that I’m taking the famed Canary to Arkham.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

He leveled her with a cold look for a few more seconds before splitting into a grin. “Yeah. Probably not. Got a backup plan?”

“Of course.”

“Is it even worth trying?”

“Probably not. But who knows? You could get lucky.”

She waited for a minute as he mulled over the idea in his head before he sighed. “I gotta ask: what’s with the egg?”

She swatted at his hand until he let her down and then led him over to her science experiment. “Know how there’s that expression that says ‘it’s so hot out you could make eggs on the sidewalk’ or something?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, the pavement physically can’t get hot enough to do that and also we’re up north so: aluminum foil to try and get the process to work a little better.”

He stared at her for a while before snickering. “Need a magnifying glass? We can ‘kid with an anthill’ this.”

“Sure.”

He reached into his tool belt and started looking for his spare. Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be gone.

She could feel his sharp gaze turn on her even if she couldn’t see his eyes behind his helmet. He wasn’t stupid and magnifying glasses don’t usually just disappear into thin air unless they’re Plastic Man in disguise. She held up her hands for a quick search but, when he couldn’t find it on her, he just sighed and looked down at the science experiment. It didn’t seem to be going well. The egg was still distinctly not cooked.

Eventually, he groaned and sat down. The light around him flickered and started to move at his will. Marinette watched intently.

Ten minutes later, they had a cooked egg. They high-fived, delighted. They weren’t going to taste it, obviously, it had been out for a while without supervision and who knows what could have happened to it… but it was an egg! Yay them!

“My old science teacher would be so proud of me,” Marinette joked.

“My current science teacher would be proud of me.”

“Oooooh, going back to school?”

He smiled. “Yep! Robin is finally in college and Red Hood convinced me to go with him. You should, too, it’s actually not that bad.”

“Please. If I was going to do that I’d go back to my home country. American school is expensive and not all of us are sponsored by billionaires.”

“... aren’t you a millionaire?”

She grinned. “Of course. But why would I want to spend that much of my own money?”

He hummed his understanding. Then, she pushed herself up with a groan. “Right, we both have jobs. See you later.”

He hesitated and then held a hand out for her notepad. “Is it bad?”

She held it out of reach with ease. “Nah, just drugs. Unless someone got shot while I was gone but I doubt it. They’d been almost as bored as me last I heard.”

“If it’s nothing then let me see.”

“Ugh, do you really want to fight? It’s too hot for that,” Marinette complained. He started to square up and she, after a second’s thought, added a little something to convince him: “Also, there’s going to be a breakout today so you should really save your energy.”

“... really think I’m going to fall for that?”

There was an explosion in the distance.

“Yeah. I’d hurry. I’m pretty sure it’s Joker’s turn to get out.”

She waved him off with a smile… only for her smile to drop when she remembered her other job. She groaned again and stretched out while she still could.

Tikki floated over the side of the building, a magnifying glass as big as her head in her tiny paws.

Marinette rubbed the kwami’s head. “You’re the best.”

Her kwami sighed. “That I am,” she said.

Marinette grinned and sent the film of Signal using his powers to her computer so she could give it to Calendar Man when it was due.

People were always so predictable in Gotham.

~

She supposed she really had been tempting fate when she’d thought that. Still, that didn’t mean she liked it that Fate had called her bluff.

But, actually, it seemed that Fate was the one that was bluffing. That had been her entire day. She had finished up her work and then went to one of her more stocked safehouses for a nap. She’d woken up to the buzzing of her phone when she’d gotten the message. She didn’t think she had messed up anywhere…

Her shoulders relaxed. She was probably fine. Which meant it was just Oswald Cobblepot being annoying. As usual.

Marinette flung the doors to the Iceberg Lounge open. Every eye in the room fell on her, but she only cared about the eyes of one person.

She stalked through the lounge, pulling one of her twin karambits from its sheath and pointing the curved blade towards him.

“What the fuck do you want? You really think that, after almost seven whole years of rejecting your wrinkly ass, I’m suddenly going to say ‘oh, yeah, I guess I’ll work for him now’? Leave me alone!”

Cobblepot wasn’t concerned even as her knife came to rest under his chin.

“Canary,” he greeted, regarding her cooly through his monocle.

Guards surrounded them. Marinette somehow managed to look unimpressed without anyone being able to see her face.

Everyone present held their breath… except for the two with weapons pointed at themselves. They knew that they would never follow through with it, especially not in a place as public as this. It was little more than a warning, a reminder, that either of them could kill each other at any given moment and chose not to.

For now, at least.

Cobblepot dismissed the guards with a wave of a gloved hand and she, after a few seconds, lowered her knife.

“What do you want?”

“Currently? For you to get off my table,” said Cobblepot.

She snorted but hopped down with ease. “I meant: why did you call me here?”

“... we should go somewhere else to discuss this. I assume you don’t do all of your business meetings in public?”

“Only if I know ahead of time that I’m going to say no,” she said.

He motioned for her to walk with him to a private room and, reluctantly, she followed. He had to think he had something on her, otherwise he wouldn’t have tried calling her there. She was curious.

They came to a room with a metal door and she cringed a little. Fun.

She dropped eight knives down into a tray and Cobblepot put down a gun, a knife, and his umbrella. She let a female goon pat her down and then checked Cobblepot over herself. Nothing she could find, but she was sure he had found some way to hide one somewhere.

They stepped inside as a pair and each took a seat on opposing ends of the wooden table stationed awkwardly in the middle of the room. She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up.

“So, what’s the job?”

“I’m surprised you’re even going to hear it.”

She shrugged. “I’m curious.”

He nodded slowly before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

“Power poses don’t actually work, you know, that’s just lies so companies don’t actually have to deal with all the discrimination.”

“Is that true?” He asked.

She shrugged again. “Probably. I’ve never worked for anyone, so…”

He chuckled. She didn’t like that.

But he didn’t say anything on that subject. Instead, he just smiled a smile that looked weird on his face and gave her her mission briefing: “I want you to figure out the bats’ identities for me.”

Marinette stared at him for a minute before breaking out into laughter. She couldn’t seem to stop. She stood up to leave, still giggling. Really? Did he really think that would work? People had asked many times, of course, and the bats’ identities weren’t common knowledge so she had to have said no. Why would she suddenly do it for him? She didn’t even like him.

She rested her hand on the knob but held off on leaving for just a second. She flashed a grin at Cobblepot. “Interesting offer. Bold. But no. Couldn’t pay me enough to do that.”

“Good thing I have no intentions of paying you, Marinette.”

~~~

And behold a new section I call ‘Marinette is a menace to society why would anyone let her on twitter’

(… the name may need a little work)

OliverQueenOfficial: Why does that one Gotham villain go by Canary? Black Canary already exists.

TheBetterCanary: if youre gonna vague tweet maybe dont put my name in it

TheBetterCanary: but anyways someone else named me that and it stuck before i could think of something to change it to

ScareCrane:… @/RiddleMeThis she’s dissing you

RiddleMeThis: LISTEN UP. IT WAS THEMATIC. DON’T ANY OF YOU KNOW ANYTHING OF DRAMA? EVER HEAR ABOUT CANARIES IN COAL MINES? FUCK ALL OF YOU AND YOUR UNCULTURED, UNEDUCATED ASSES. NOT TO MENTION IT WAS MAKING FUN OF THE BIRD THEME ALL THE VIGILANTES HER AGE SEEM TO HAVE. (1/14)

TheBetterCanary: @/ScareCrane why would you do that you knew he was going to do this

ScareCrane: Joker just broke out so Arkham is boring… needed to entertain myself somehow

TheBetterCanary: fuck you im not visiting this weekend

OliverQueenOfficial: Wow do I regret asking. I didn’t need all this family drama in my comments.

~~~~~

Next

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

[yutahoes]

Chances

characters: boyfriend! Yuta Nakamoto x Reader, Shotaro as Yuta’s cousin

word count : 2.5k words

summary : All you wanted was to be in his arms but the worst thing happened. 

warning : cheating

genre : angst

This is an anon request where Yuta cheats on Y/N and I know this isn’t the idea you had in mind but it makes me uncomfortable to write a descriptive Yuta cheating scenario. So this deals with the feelings of catching him cheat and I do feel like this is somewhat lacking. I’m sorry and I love you, please don’t hate me. 😣

Being an in-demand photographer had its perks, you can travel to a lot of countries using the reason that you’re working. The downside is that you miss a lot of things, your parents, your friends, and your long-term boyfriend Yuta Nakamoto. 

He had been there for you since the beginning, always supporting you and listening to your stories about the sceneries you see and wishing that you’re together. But he’s making his own mark in Japan, his hometown, where you two met years ago. 

Now that you were given a week break, there’s only one destination you wanted to go to. Home. To Yuta’s arms. 

You took the first flight to Osaka with just one luggage and a few things that you wanted to give Yuta’s family. The way to their home seemed different now but the tingling feeling of seeing him again isn’t new. It’s been months since you last saw each other and you wanted to surprise him. It’s been so long. You just want to be in his arms. 

His younger cousin, Shotaro, opened the door and you beamed widely at his surprised face. “Why are you here, Y/N?” He asked and hugged you tight. “Why didn’t Yuta tell me you’re coming?” 

“He doesn’t know either.” You whispered then handed him the things you shopped for. “Where is he?” Shotaro shrugged, looking at the bag. “Okaasan? Otousan?” 

“They all left and I’m alone once again.” He said with a pout that made you smile. It was Shotaro who introduced you and Yuta together. You were helping him with his Math subject when he introduced his cousin and he acted as a wingman for the two of you. “Do you want to wait for them?” 

You shook your head. You’re a bit sleepy. “Do you want to go get some coffee?” He nodded that made you smile, even claiming that there’s a famous coffee shop near town that is good to check out. 

You were startled at first when he brought you to the red light district, a number of motels nearby scaring you but he just led the way and showed you a small Renaissance-inspired coffee shop that made you in awe. How can something this pretty be in this place? It wasn’t that full, maybe because of the weird placement of the shop, but it’s cozy. 

He ordered for you and you eyed the interior of the restaurant, feeling really bad that you didn’t bring your camera. This will be a great magazine feature. Your gaze fell on the window outside, morning and there weren’t too many people around. You chuckled thinking that the only people you can spot are couples coming out from the motels nearby. Shotaro came back with a latte for you and a cappuccino for him, sitting opposite you. “I’ll tell Yuta that we’re here.” He said before getting his phone out. 

A brown-haired guy in black clothes coming out of the motel caught your attention. Yuta? You can’t be mistaken. You knew his shadow, even the ends of his hair. A girl in skimpy clothes followed him outside, holding his arm as the other was holding a phone against his ear. You heard his voice asking Shotaro what it was, the same time the guy you were eyeing was talking to his phone. Even the car that honked in the background is the same one that made Shotaro turn around. 

“Shotaro, I’m busy. I’ll call…” But it was Shotaro who dropped the call. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded, stunned that you discovered him like this. Outside a motel with someone else? “Y/N, let’s go kill my…”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my things from your house. I’ll just call for a hotel.” 

“Y/N.” Again, you shook your head. You can’t deal with this now. You wanted to cry but you can’t cry. Shotaro kept asking you if you wanted him to go with you to the hotel but you shook your head, thanking him for not asking about it. “Y/N, maybe Yuta has a reason. He loves you, you know?” 

Then why? What was his reason? Why did he come outside the motel, with another girl in his arms? Your relationship is fine, although long-distance, he made sure that you know that he loves you. So why? Is he sick of you? 

The cab came, Shotaro helped in putting your luggage inside, when you heard his voice calling out your name. He looked so happy, so relieved that you’re here. But his clothes were the same as earlier, the clothes that the girl held on to. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re coming? Taro, bring out her luggage…”

“No, I’m leaving.” You gave the younger guy a nod and he just smiled at you before heading inside the house. “Why Yuta?” 

He gave you a curious expression. “Why what?” He asked, reaching out for your shoulder but you dodged him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” The tears started welling in your eyes. “Why are you crying?” 

Yuta stepped forward but you stepped back. Why isn’t he sorry? “Stop pretending. I saw you outside the motel with a girl. Even Shotaro saw you.” He looked surprised. You actually admired yourself for saying those things even if tears were falling from your eyes. “Why Yuta? Am I not enough?”

“Y/N.” He called, holding your arm. “I’m sorry.” But his voice was cold. All the warmth that was in Yuta’s voice is gone now. 

What the others said is right. Relationships are like glass. Once broken, even if you put it together, you’ll still see the cracks. “You’re just sorry because you got caught.” He stared at the dirt on his feet that made you sigh. “Can I please at least know why?” It hurts but you demand to know the truth. 

“I’m lonely.” He whispered. “You were far away and I’m stuck here. It made me really lonely, Y/N.” You covered your mouth with your hand to avoid making a choked sob. That’s it? He’s willing to throw away everything just because he’s lonely? “I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I love you. I want to spend my life with you.” He held both your arms but you just shook him away. “Please. I won’t do it again. I’m stupid, please give me another chance.”

You slipped the promise ring from your finger, handing it to him. “Isn’t that enough reason to stop?” You swat his hand away then opened the door to the cab, sliding in the backseat. 

In your hazy vision, you can see Yuta’s image from the rearview mirror getting smaller as the driver took you away from that place. “Are you alright?” He asked and you nodded, smiling while wiping your tears. And you knew, you're just lying to yourself. 

It's been months, five months to be exact. You never returned to Japan, the memories hurt you so much to enjoy the scenery of Japan. But it was an in-demand country. A country that your magazine editor liked so much. So you're on the plane ride to Japan, nervous to bump into someone you actually know. 

It was like the heavens hated you that the editor wanted you to go to Osaka to take pictures. Of all the places, why there? You're too scared. What if you bump into him? 

You met with a local to discuss the booming coffee shops in the district. To your surprise, she suggested the renaissance themed coffee shop where you last went with Shotaro. The same coffee shop where you saw Yuta and another girl. The thing you wanted to do before, to take pictures of the said coffee shop, happened. You were still in awe at how it looked, nothing changed.

"Y/N!" Someone called that startled you. "You're here!" Shotaro hugged you and you smiled widely at him, he's always a ball of sunlight. "It was nice to see you again." 

"You too." You whispered then bowed at the editor to excuse you for a second. "How have you been?"

The smile on his face is so contagious that you're suddenly thankful you bumped into him. "Good." You smiled, nodding at him. "It's my birthday tomorrow. You should go to our house and…" He stopped when you sighed. He knew you broke up with his cousin, why is he doing this? "Please. He never talked to me after you left." And that startled you. Yuta and Shotaro had been so close, like real brothers. "And grandma would love to see you again so please, Y/N." 

You can't say no. Not when he has those pleading eyes and the wide smile. You nodded which made him cheer in delight. "I'll see you tomorrow Y/N." He said while waving goodbye to you. Once you returned back to your work, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. Damn it, you really can't escape him. 

Their house didn't change, that was what you thought. The warmth of both Nakamoto and Osaki families are still reflected outside their home. You realized that this is rather awkward. You shouldn't have come here even if you promised Shotaro. Maybe you can just tell him that…

The door opened and you were startled that it was Yuta who was standing by the doorway. "Hi." He greeted and you gave him a timid smile, "Taro was waiting for you." He opened the door widely, helping you with your coat. "Heads up, they're excited to see you again." You nodded, suddenly feeling betrayed that you were the only one nervous about meeting him again. He seemed alright with all of this. 

Anyways, it was you who left him. 

He was right. The whole family is excited to see you. Their younger cousin was crying when you entered the dining room, saying that she missed you so much. Their grandmother kept on saying that you grew beautiful and all you could ever do is smile at them. They were attentive to you, even the birthday boy who even had other guests as well. Yuta was just sitting far from you on the table. You're used to having him near you whenever meeting his family so this is a new experience. A bitter reminder that you really end everything with him. "Are you dating someone now?" Shotaro's dad asked and you can see how his wife nudged him then stared at Yuta. 

You smiled, shaking your head. "I'm too busy with work lately." They started asking about your job and even your family was brought up. Nothing changed except the fact that you felt that you shouldn't be here at all. 

It was nighttime when you decided to leave. Shotaro was playing video games with his friends so you decided not to bother about him. His younger cousin and their grandmother are already sleeping so you thought you can now leave. "It's late." Yuta's dad noted. "Let Yuta walk you to the station." 

You shook your head, claiming that it's a short walk but Yuta was already wearing his jacket, saying that he will walk you out since he had to buy Shotaro a present. Typical Yuta. You thanked his family then headed out but he stopped you then wrapped a scarf around your neck. You thanked him quietly, walking awkwardly. 

This was the first time you were alone with Yuta after what you witnessed that time, something that you wanted to forget but cannot. "Can we stop by the store real quick?" He asked and you nodded, opening the door for you. 

The store hasn't changed, the trinkets and accessories on display still captivating you. Even the owner welcomed you and claimed that it's been a long time since you returned. He was also happy that you're still together but you awkwardly shook your head that made him apologize. Your eyes feast on the hair clips as Yuta walked around the store to maybe get something. You thanked the owner when you left the store, Yuta holding two paper bags. 

It was another awkward walk to the bus station which you can almost see. You breathed hard, "I'm fine here." You tried to remove the scarf but he stopped you, claiming that it's all yours now. He handed you the two paper bags, a gift for your parents who you were meeting tomorrow. Why is he even like this? “Yuta...”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You were startled. It held more emotions than the last time you heard the word from him. “I know I messed up. It’s all my fault and I deserve this. I don’t want you to forgive me but I dream of you every night and I hate that the last time I saw you, you were crying because of me.” You only stared. You wanted to say something, just so you can hold a conversation with him. But you honestly don’t know what to say. “When Shotaro said you’re coming, I knew I had to apologize properly.” 

“I’ve been insecure. You’re doing so well with your job that I feel like you’re slowly forgetting about me. But that was just me. I masked it as loneliness and did unforgivable things to hurt you and I’m sorry.” You breathed hard when he looked at you straight in the eyes, apologizing once again. “You were right, I don’t deserve you.” 

You shook your head. “I’m sorry for saying mean words. I shouldn’t have ended things like that. And I’m glad we had this talk.” He smiled. That lovely smile which made you fall in love with him. But now, you’re not even feeling anything else. Have you fully moved on? 

He removed his necklace, handing it to you. The promise ring serving as its pendant. “Please have this. I don’t think I can give this to any other.” You closed your palm and put the necklace inside your pocket, smiling at him. “I’m proud of what you have become. You deserve all the happiness, Y/N.” 

His hand on your cheek is warm. “You too, Yuta.” Once again, he smiled then put down his hand on his side. “And please talk to Shotaro.” He chuckled, nodding at you. 

The bus came and you watched as he sighed. “Can I hug you?” You nodded and you were enveloped in a warm hug. The hug that you once called your home. The hug that doesn’t belong to you now. “Next time you come to Japan, call me.” You nodded, thanking him for the gifts and the scarf. “Bye, Y/N.”

You smiled, “Bye, Yuta.” 

Farewell. Your farewell to your first love. Your farewell to the right love at the wrong time. 

You smiled at Yuta’s form watching you enter the crowded bus. A farewell to your true love with the wrong person. 

The bus suddenly ran that made you stumble in your balance. You might have fallen down if not for a guy holding you by the waist, “Are you alright?”  

You nodded, smiling. And now you knew, you’re not lying to yourself. 

[bastillewolf]

Hey I know you probably have like a billion requests already but maybe you could do something where the reader is good friends with corpse (maybe with some unspoken feelings) and they ask him to visit their country side home lmao-

I'm really embarrassed about asking this and I know it sounds strange but being out in the country side can be really good for mental health and I just want this boi to heal--

I'm so sorry hahah

Thanks

That’s not strange at all, darling!! I love this ask! I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer this, my mental health hasn’t been very good lately. I suppose I found this ask rather appropriate and I guess that’s why I liked writing it so much. Hope you enjoy!

Sunrise, Sunset - Oneshot

Pairings: Corpse Husband / Reader.

“Yo,” is the first thing you hear as you open your Discord. It’s not his regular greeting, and he sounds more tired than usual.

“What’s up?” you asked curiously. “Everything okay? Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got really busy.”

“I can tell from your voice,” you chuckled. It had more of a rasp to it- if that was even possible.

“Yea, I can’t do too much for too long. I love that I’m able to work on music now, but it exhausts my voice so much that I can’t even stream sometimes.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” you comment.

“Probably. It’s almost done, so then I can stream more,” he replies.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Hm?”

“I’m talking about an actual break, from everything.”

You hear him exhale deeply as if he’d already been considering it himself. “That does sound very nice.”

“I know, I always have the best ideas.”

“You do, except you forgot about the fact that I can’t really go anywhere. I mean, I’d love to take a break, but if I just sit here at home, I’m gonna either end up doing nothing or start working anyways. I don’t see me relaxing that way.”

“I didn’t forget about anything; I just hadn’t gotten to that part yet.”

“Oh?”

You’d be lying if you said that noise didn’t make you blush. “Remember how I said I live in the countryside? You know, it’s quite cosy here, and I have a guest bedroom to spare. If you want, but only if you’re comfortable with it, you could come over.”

It was quiet for a moment and your poor nerves were wondering if you’d said something completely wrong. You knew how he was about his privacy, but you’d figured that having known each other for a more than a few months now, you’d be at a point where you’d become actual friends, especially considering you always talked over Discord. At least, when he wasn’t busy.

“I... You wouldn’t mind?” he asked softly.

“Of course not!” You immediately replied, trying your best to make him feel as welcome as possible. “It’ll be so much fun! I was just worried you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it, otherwise, I would’ve invited you over a lot sooner.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes! I’m always looking for people to take care of my chickens.”

“You have chickens?” he sputtered.

“Sure do. And that was a joke, by the way.”

He didn’t really give you much time to prepare. He’d instantly asked if he could come over in two days, which meant you had to clean, do the groceries, and have another mental breakdown within that short time.

When he did arrive at your relatively small but homely cottage, you knew that even if you’d had more time, you still wouldn’t have felt like you’d prepared enough. You were incredibly nervous, especially as the cab slowed to a nerve-wracking speed until it finally stopped in front of your little wooden fence that really couldn’t keep anyone out of your garden because it was so ramshackle.

You nod your head to the driver politely, who got out of the car to unload a bag from the trunk. Then, the door opened, ringed fingers sliding across the yellow polish on the metal framing. He pulled himself up and out, finally allowing you to take a good look at his face.

His hair was dark and curly, as to be expected from what you’d seen in the pictures, though you could barely see it underneath the hood he’d pulled up. His dark brown eyes immediately found yours, and a shy smile graced his lips, which you bashfully returned with a small wave. It made you want to hit yourself multiple times. He paid the cabby and thanked him, allowing you to take a good look at his attire, at his frame, at his whole being. He was wearing a black hoodie with some chains around it, along with dark baggy trousers and, go figure, black sneakers. He was slightly slouching, probably so the driver wouldn’t be able to make out his face in its entirety, but overall he looked lean, even while his face was more pale and tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes.

He locked the creaky wooden fence behind him, quickly closing the distance between you two with only a few strides. He dropped his backpack on the floor, saying, “hi.” “Hey,” you replied with that stupid smile still on your face and now quite possibly a hint of red dusting your cheeks. He just chuckled at the slight awkwardness of the situation, before wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug. He smelled like nice cologne, and he gave really good hugs. It said a lot that you could tell that from just the one. “Thanks for letting me come over,” he muttered, finally allowing himself to sound as exhausted as he looked.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

When you met his eyes again as he pulled back, you knew he was quietly telling you that it meant more to him than that. Feeling shy under his dark gaze, you shook your head, saying, “Come on, let me show you around.”

It wasn’t that big of a tour, but it was home and it was comfortable, so you never felt embarrassed about it. You made enough money, to be fair, from your career through YouTube, but you’d never really had the heart to leave the house. At least you had a guest bedroom, and the garden was something to dream of. To trade that in for a bit more storage space would be such a pity.

“-and this is going to be your room, for however long you wish to stay,” you finish with a flourish of your hand. He set his suitcase down on the freshly made bed and nodded, glancing around for a bit before his eyes landed back on you. “Did I tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for me?”

You huff, “Once or twice now.”

“I’ll be off your back in a few days, don’t worry. I think I just needed to get out of my stuffy apartment for a bit.”

“Stay as long as you’d like,” you told him assuredly, “I know how stressful it can be and I haven’t even been through what you have. I can’t imagine what it must be like.”

He shrugs, “I have my ups and downs. It’s mostly my health issues and anxiety holding me back.”

“Well, I hope you can relax a bit here, then. People seem to feel more at ease without a bustling city around them,” you said.

He glanced out the window and nodded. “Yeah, I immediately noticed it as I got out of the car. It’s so... quiet here. And the air, of course. It’s so much nicer.”

“I usually take walks in the early mornings. You should come along sometime if you’d like. The sunrise is always really pretty when you get up on the hill.”

The corners of his lips quirked up. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” you replied, clapping your hands together, “I’ll let you get settled and start dinner. The uh- the bathroom is shared, I left a stack of towels on the rack so you can use those.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

You nodded shyly, silently closing the door behind you as you stepped into the hall. You let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the wall, pressing the backs of your hands against your cheek in a vain attempt to cool down the heat and tone down the redness. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d reacted this way but the times you’d spend talking about everything and nothing with Corpse through Discord calls that lasted until the early mornings. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way. You didn’t want to risk the friendship you had with him, but the tingling that had sprouted in your gut the moment he’d gotten out of that car told you that this was going to be hard.

 You knocked on his door quietly, afraid you were accidentally going to wake him when he didn’t want to be awoken. You didn’t know what kind of morning person he’d be, but he told you yesterday that he wanted to join you for your walk today. And while you were going to leave half an hour later than usual because it took you that long to work up the courage to knock on his door, meaning you were going to have to hurry a bit to catch the sun rising, you were still scared he was going to react grouchily. But when he opened the door, already dressed and ready to go, you realized you’d foolishly forgotten that this wasn’t just anyone, but that this was one of your friends; someone you already knew, even if it hadn’t been physically. Of course, he’d open the door with a smile, even though he looked more tired than the day before, which worried you.

“How did you sleep?” You made it evident in your tone that you were rather scared to ask the question, but it made him chuckle.

“I think you already know the answer to that. I don’t sleep well in general, so don’t worry. It has nothing to do with the bed or your hospitality.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do for you, I don’t mind being woken up.”

He shook his head as he followed you downstairs and out the front door. “To be fair, I slept more than I usually would, but your rooster woke me up.”

You laughed, “Yea, I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything about that.” You held the wooden fence gate open for him, following him to the grass field until you were walking next to him. You silently picked up your pace a bit, worrying that you might miss the sunrise when you had promised it to him.

“I know, I know,” he replied amusedly, “Can we go see them later? The chickens?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I also have a few ducks. You’ll love them, they’ll try to rip the shoelaces from your feet.”

“Sounds great.”

The walk to the hill wasn’t too far, but the hill was quite steep, which was always an exercise for people who walked with you for the first time, so you’d figured he’d start trailing behind you after some time. Thing is, he started trailing behind relatively earlier than you had expected him to.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you called out, “you good? We’re almost there.”

He nodded, though you could see him slightly panting, and you turned around to jog up the last bit until you reached the top. You could see a sliver of light start to peek over the horizon, making you glance back to see how far away he was.

But instead of having moved forward, he was now sort of slouched over, holding his stomach as he panted loudly. “Shit,” you cursed yourself as you sprinted back down until you skidded to a stop in front of him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have slowed down-“

“It’s fine,” he waved you off, slowly catching his breath. “I can do it, I just take a bit longer.”

“I’ll carry you if I have to. I got us into this mess.”

He chuckled, but it sounded a bit hoarse.

“Come on,” you said. He furrowed his brow in confusion but followed you anyway. Walking along the side of the hill was tricky, but you made it around without any issues. He was able to keep up this time and gratefully plopped down on the grass beside you, just in time to watch the sun fully appear from behind the horizon.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yea, it never really gets old.” You laid down, feeling twigs of grass tickle the bareback of your neck.

He joined you, scooting a bit closer until your arms were brushing against each other. You couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose, so you acted like it hadn’t affected you, keeping your eyes fixed on the sky above you. At least, you tried. They flickered when you felt fingertips graze across your lower arm until they reached your palm, where his nails slowly dragged along your skin until his warm digits intertwined with yours. His rings felt cool against the heat and tingling you were suddenly feeling in your hand. He didn’t let go of you, not as you laid there for what seemed like hours, nor during the entire walk back.

‘Is this what friends do?’ you were silently asking yourself, watching the ducks try to free his shoes from its laces, ‘is this what friends do when they need support? Is this his way of coping, or is it-‘ You quickly shook the thought away. Of course, he wouldn’t think of you that way. He probably did stuff like this with all his friends. You knew how playful he could get, his guy friends included.

Yeah, it was just that. It had to be.

You were both laid back on the couch that night, stuffed to the brink with the famous lasagne you’d put together. The TV was on, but it sounded more like static noise in the background. “I think I can just fall asleep right here,” you hummed. The glass of red wine you’d shared – because neither of you could handle liquor – had created a pleasant buzz between the two of you.

“That seems a lot less comfortable than your bed.”

“You don’t know a thing about my bed,” you huffed indignantly.

It was quiet for a moment then, a sliver of tension seeping through the warmth of your home. “I think it’s probably about as comfortable as mine, otherwise you’re treating your guests too much,” he replied.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I’ve actually never slept in the guest bedroom. I might just be treating my guests too much and I’d never even know about it.”

He suddenly sat up and turned the TV off. “Come on,” he said and was already up the stairs by the time you’d made an attempt to move.

When finally reached the upstairs and were about to round the corner, you were suddenly picked up and slung over his shoulder, causing you to let out a loud shriek. “Corpse!” you laughed, “Please put me down!”

“You were taking too long,” he grumbled, dropping you down on the bed unceremoniously. He shuffled over until he was laying down next to you and lifted the covers up until it reached your neck.

“So?” he asked.

You had your eyes closed. “I might be treating my guests too much.”

He snorted. “Fucking knew it,” which made you laugh.

You laid there for quite a while, not really caring if either of you fell asleep with your regular clothes still on. “Hey Corpse?”

He hummed.

“I’m really glad you came. It gets lonely over here sometimes.”

He shifted, but because it was so dark you couldn’t really see what he was doing. Suddenly though, you felt him hovering over you, his elbows resting on either side of your face as his hand reached across to move a strand of hair to the side. He leaned down and hesitantly, his lips barely touched yours, a silent question if this was okay. You moved back against him, your hand finding his cheek in the darkness. His kisses were gentle, but passionate, which made your breaths heavier and deeper. When you pulled apart, you were both breathing heavily, mostly from the tension that had arisen.

“I really like you,” you admitted.

“Good,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you until you were tucked against his chest. You hit his arm playfully, “Cocky bastard.”

You hear the smirk in his voice as he said goodnight.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

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[inlustrissss]

Last Time

“The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country”

SPOILER WARNING!! CHAPTER 138

Edit: Thank you for 200 notes 😊😚

Levi x fem!Reader

TW! : slight angst but also mentioning of death, dw, got some nice and bittersweet moments as well

Summary: Levi and his fiancé are part of the survey corps and on a dangerous mission to stop Eren Jaeger in his plan with the rumble. On Marleyan ground, right before everything crumbles down, (Y/N) sees her life flash before her eyes

As Falco had caught on to the Kirschtein man, Connie looked devastated, the scene before the strong soldiers of Paradis unfolding into a complete disaster as Armin was about to detonate the bomb right around where Erens nape connected to it's bone-ish body.

"We need to get out quick!! Armin's gonna blow those bones to pieces!"

Having held down on to Piecks cart Titan body, (Y/N) loosened her grapple-hook, the gravity pulling her towards the ground as the hook returned to it's place at the ODM-Gear. At the same time the black haired woman Pieck emerged out of the Titan form, letting herself fall and hugging the (H/C) haired woman tightly.

Facing the ground, Falcos wings caught the women: "The armored Titan should be able to withstand the colossus Titan explosion—", seeing Jeans concern of their fellow old comrade, she tried to ease his worries as she sweated, "And most of all: Reiner's prepared for all of the consequences. To let this opportunity get away would be to let that go to waste!"

As suddenly Falcos Titan body increased its speed and flew up higher into the sky, (Y/N)s reflexes kicked in, making her close her eyes in fear. She felt an arm hug her waist tightly. Caught off guard, her (E/C) orbs opened frantically and her head swinging into the direction of the arms owner: it was her fiancé, the very man who had asked for her to marry him right in the middle of the war. Gifting the strongest soldier of humanity a subtle smile as a thank you, and maybe even slight reassurance for herself, she seemed to melt at his touch, getting lost in the rare colour of his cool blue eyes. Sighing, his tense shoulders relaxed for a second: "You okay?" His deep voice almost hoarse as it came out as a whisper, "Don't do anything reckless, stupid." Nodding speechlessly the woman noticed the bright light from behind her-- the bomb had been detonated and a loud, ear piercing bang sounded throughout the trampled battlefield of Marley. 

Wide eyes glancing towards the direction of Eren whereabouts, hands covering ears, the ring on (Y/N)s finger sparkled whenever the warm rays of sunlight reached the beautiful material. 

Was the battle finally over?

There was no time to think of the answer to that question, there wasn’t even any time to think of the question in the first place. It was a bittersweet moment, when Falco finally landed on the ground in front of those Marleyans and Eldians who had survived the ramble up until now. Leaving his titan body Falcos eyes searched the crowd for his parents. The little yet brave girl Gabi doing the same, running up to her mother and aunt, hugging them tightly just as Pieck did with her parents. Carefully jumping off of the bird like titan body, (Y/N) and Connie took a hold of Levis weakened body, making sure he stood on his feet before Connie adjusting his arm and placed it around his neck. The engaged woman never leaving her financés side, she held him by his torso, looking at the children that had been with them for a long time throughout the war, finally reuniting with their parents. The sight of Gabi smiling made her forget all of her worries. With Levi close to herself, nothing could beat them now.

“It’s not like I don’t have any regrets but-”, Connie looking around, seeing all the crying faces, “we did the right thing, didn’t we?” “We stopped the rumbling..”

“Wait!”, Gabi suddenly called out, running towards the cliff, almost falling off of it if it weren’t for (Y/N)s reflexes to catch the impulsive girl, “Watch it Gabi!”, the woman said with concern lacing her sweet voice, “But Reiner is still fighting.. and Armin?!”, looking back to the battlefield, they saw Reiner on the ground with Armin walking over to the cliff where everyone had been.

“They’re okay.”, said Jean as he patted Gabis should, but something had caught their attention. 

It was the centipede- like looking creature, which had taken control over Eren when he had transformed into the founding titan: “Hey, look over there!!”, yelled Connie while pointing at the thing, “It survived the explosion?” “What the fuck is that thing..”, mumbled Levi with a disgusted look, “Who knows, love.”, said (Y/N), “But all I know is that we can’t let this thing survive.”, with a determined look she glanced to her comrades, tightening her grip on to Levi. A bright light emitted behind the colossal titan,  the place where Erens corpse had been. “I didn’t think it’d take that much to kill you..”, said Jean as he was looking towards the bright light, seeing a titan form in the distance.

Long brown hair dancing with the wind, it was Eren.

“We can’t let Eren get to that thing down there!”, yelled (Y/N). Right when she was about to turn towards Levi and possibly get him ready for another fight, she noticed him groaning and his head hanging low, “Levi? What’s wrong?!”, brows furrowing, she tried to take a hold of his eyes with hers. “Just a headache.”, he whispered.

 A headache- come to think of it, Mikasa had been having headaches throughout the fight with Eren too..

Noticing how Gabi had crouched down with the others, (Y/N) decided to let her finacés headache slide and see what was going on. “What is this smoke?”, asked Gabi, “Smoke?”, inspecting further, (Y/N) saw how the creature had deflated, leaving only smoke behind, which soon covered a large space and devoured almost all of the mountain where they had been seeking their cover. “Is that thing finally dying?”, Mikasa groaned as he raised his brow suspiciously at the thing. But Connie had another answer: “No, it doesn’t smell like a dead titan”, his hand covering mouth and nose at the smell. His heart dropping and hands growing colder with each second, he was under shock: “Isn’t it the same they did in...”, he swallowed, “..In Ragako?”

Only hearing the confused voices speaking in the background, it was completely silent among the group. No one dared to mutter another word, it had all come to an end.

She wanted to cry but she couldn’t, her heart stopped to fear it only started to clench in worry, “Levi you have to get out of here”

It only rung louder and stronger, it was like his head was killing him slowly, praising him with a painful dead, it was like his instinct was punishing him for his failure. No it can’t be instinct, he truly did love her, he was no servant. Yet his DNA was telling otherwise.

“No don’t do this to me-”, the Ackerman males murmurs were cut off by his beloved soon to be wife, “Pieck, Mikasa! Get on Falco and hurry!”

“Please oh god don’t do this to me-”

“Levi, it’s okay.”, softly touching his cheek, being careful not to hurt his injury under the dirty and sweat stained bandages, she held his paled face. This very face she saw all those years ago, when he was captured by commander Erwin with his fellow friends Isabel and Farlan, oh how she has missed them all.  Recalling their first interaction when Hanji ran off to greet them at their first expedition, praising them on their skill with the ODM gear.

She glanced at his eyes. Those eyes she first truly started to take in the night he was at his worst, crying under the moonlit night, cursing himself how he could’ve been stronger. Those seemingly cold eyes that would always watch over squadleader (L/N)s doings. Those very eyes that would always gaze at her with love and tender were struck with fear and disbelief now. She knew he was too weak, she was scared he wouldn’t be able to handle another death. 

Levis nose stung, his eyes burning, this is it, he was close to crying. But as he heard her sweet voice, it was as if there was no war raging, “It’s okay my love”, she said with an almost inaudible whisper, forcing herself to not break down and cry herself. “You need to get out of here Levi”, her voice calming his penetrating headache, “You need to survive” Foreheads pressed together, (Y/N) swiftly let go off of his face to look at her right hand, “Here quick, take the ring honey-”, sliding off the engagement ring, she took Levis weak hand and pressed the warm yellow gold into his palm, she smiled softly, not noticing a single tear slip, “I’ll see you again Levi”

Pressing her warm lips tightly against his cold ones, she took a hold of his shoulders and hugged him. 

He hesitated, needing to take in what just happened but hugged her back just as tight, patting down her messy hair, just like hed always do to keep his beloved tidy. As they slowly parted she whispered “You need to hurry.”

Their moment seemed as if took hours.

Seeing Falco take off with the one she devoted herself to, (Y/N) finally broke down. Her life flashing by her eyes and even all the talks she had with Levi about her future, she played it all out just how it could’ve been.

Remembering how he had asked her to be his wife in the middle of war, because he was scared he wouldn’t survive, thinking of all the reassurence they both gave themselves until now.  Dreaming of a future together, knowing it would stay one.

She cried.

Hot tears streaming down her flushed cheecks, she wasn’t even able to keep up with the flow of her tears anymore, (Y/N) just gave up on trying to dry them. The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country.

“So this is how it ends, huh?”, (Y/N) stopped.

It was Jean who was pulling her close towards himself, Connie on his other side, hugging the taller male as well. “Guess so..”, said Connie. Turning towards Jean with an indifferent expression he scoffed, “Remember the night of the entrance ceremony?”, Jean nodded, “This is your fault we’re here right now.”

At their bickering right before the end made, (Y/N) had to laugh, “Stop it you guys, now’s not the time” Connie groaned, “Come on, when’s ever the time..”, but Jean apologized, “I’m sorry Squadleader”

Growing only sadder at the title, (Y/N) sighed: “Drop the act Jean, we’re only human after all.”

“Right.. (Y/N)”

She wished she could look into Levis warm eyes again.

She longed to see, she would do everything,

just to see him one last time

 Closing her eyes, she let the sunrays hit her skin, making her look angelic with the golden glow. Will it hurt? Will it be quick? Her mind growing ever so slight when the worries ceased, she didn’t want those things to be the last thing, worry should not consume ones life.

So when the time finally came, she only thought of Levi Achermann, the man she had loved the most in her life.

Seeing his beautiful steel gray eyes in her mind set her at ease.  So she rememniced his lovely touch for one last time.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of PD: Season 2: Will’s Back...and There’s a Bomb (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"Spoke to Dad," Will said to Jay as the two brothers were sat in Jay's apartment sipping their respective beers. "Said you two barely talk. Said if it wasn't for Y/N, you probably wouldn't see him at all."

"I mean, he's not wrong." Jay shrugged.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not really, but you should've been here. You should've been home. Mom was dyin'. You were off partyin'."

"You left," Will said as he set his beer down and leaned forward on the couch.

"I left to fight a war. I came home. And you know why that was?" he asked rhetorically. "It was because my humvee hit an IED and me and Mouse were the only two who survived! And because Mom was sick! I came back for Mom and I came back traumatized! Nothing bad even happened to you in New York and you left two fucking days after her funeral, man!"

Luckily Will hadn't been holding his beer or he would've dropped it right then and there. "Jay, I- I never knew it was so hard for you to come Stateside again."

"Forget it. You weren't there then, what makes me think you're gonna be here now? You're probably taking off in another few days anyway, am I right? Not even gonna go see Y/N? Even though she always wants help on her math homework from you and you don't even have the decency to answer her phone calls!"

"I'm sorry that I don't have my phone on me when I'm performing surgeries, Jay!"

Jay's phone rang, stopping the argument in its tracks. "Speak of the devil," Jay mumbled and then answered the call. "Hey, Y/N, what's up?"

"I don't understand this stupid homework," you groaned from your desk in your bedroom at home. "Why do I even need to know the equation of a line, anyway? It's not like I'm even gonna use it in life anyway."

"Y/N, like I've told you numerous times, I can help you if it's a single variable problem, but anything more than that, I forgot how to do it. Not really helping your teacher's case for actually using this in life, am I?"

"Yeah, not at all. I guess I'll just try and call Will...he's not gonna answer anyway, but I guess it's worth a shot."

"Wait, how about you FaceTime me?" Jay suggested.

"Why? You already admitted that you can't help me."

"Just do it."

"Okay, gimme a few minutes. I gotta switch devices."

"Oh yeah. You don't have an iPhone yet, only an iPod and a slide phone. Sucks to be you."

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't have a grown-up job and can buy my own stuff, Jay."

"And with buying your own stuff and having a grown-up job comes bills. So, be glad you can't legally work yet."

You rolled your eyes. "I'll call you back in a few minutes. And, whatever this is, better be able to help me with this homework since math is my first class tomorrow."

"It'll help. I promise."

"Hmmm, sure." Then, you hung up and switched to your iPod, and hit the FaceTime icon.

"You look like- you look tired," Jay said when he accepted the FaceTime call. He almost said that you looked like hell, but he figured he shouldn't say that.

"Thanks," you replied sarcastically. "You would be, too, if you've been staring at the same problem on your homework for the past hour."

"What's the equation you have to work with?" Jay asked.

"Y=mx+b," you answered.

"Yeah, vaguely remember that. Don't know what it means, just remember hearing it a bunch. Will, you know what that equation is and how to do it?"

"Will's at your house? I thought he wasn't getting back for another week."

"I thought so, too. And then I got called to a bar today because he was being stupid--"

"Hey, I was not stupid!" Will protested.

"Fine. He was being dumb and tried to break up a fight. And, now I think he's got a job at Chicago Med because he got fired in New York--"

"Y/N," Will butted in, "you said you needed help with your homework?"

"Yeah."

"Jay, can you please give me the phone so I can help our little sister with her homework please?"

"Uh, fine. She'll know why you left New York eventually," Jay said as he passed his phone to his older brother.

"Eventually. But not tonight." He turned to Jay. "Can you get me a piece of paper? I'd grab it but I have no idea where you keep stuff in this little bachelor pad of yours."

"Like you didn't snoop through my stuff when I was at work," Jay joked and stood up to get Will a piece of paper.

"Y/N, for Christmas I'm getting you a subscription to Chegg so you don't need to call me for this."

"I'm holding you to that one."

***

God, I hate running on the track. It's literally just running in circles and seeing the same things over and over, no variety in the scenery whatsoever. I wish I could run with Emma, but she's way faster than me, so she's ahead of me by like one or two laps. Uh, this song sucks! I gotta skip--

"Run lockdown! Run lockdown!"

What? Run lockdown? What is the high school cross country coach talking about? Maybe it's just something that the high schoolers have to do for their drills because I sure have never heard of that one.

But then, you saw Emma jogging toward the bathrooms a few yards away from the track.

What the hell?

You ran towards the bathrooms a few yards away from the track and didn't stop until you'd caught up with Emma. "What's going on?"

"No idea. Something about a lockdown."

Once all of you and your coach, Mrs. Rivers, were safely in the bathroom with the door locked, did you get any closure about what was going on.

"There's been a bomb threat."

"What? A bomb threat?"

"What?!"

"So we can't leave?"

"Girls, I need you to be quiet, okay? The police are looking into it, but for now, the campus is on lockdown and we can't leave here until I get the all-clear. The school's already notified parents, so if someone else is picking you up today other than your parents, you need to call them. Just ask and you can use my phone. Everything's going to be okay, though. We have nothing to worry about. We just need to sit tight until I'm told we can leave." Her phone buzzed and you all held your breath. "Looks like Miss G got stuck in the boys' bathroom with all the stinky football boys."

"What if we walk home?" you asked quietly.

"If you walk home, a parent or someone else will have to pick you up since they don't want anybody walking home because, as of right now, they have no idea who did this."

***

"How's your brother doing?" Erin asked as she and Jay were standing around the coffee pot in the break room.

"Pretty sure he's going to quit the new job he just got at Med even though it's his first day," Jay answered.

"What? He got a job at Med?"

"Yeah. Apparently, they were looking for ER docs and he got the job. But, for some reason, now he wants to quit. And, he was late today. Decided to bitch to me about only having almond milk and not having any regular milk in my fridge. Like, dude, you're staying with me. You can deal with a bit of almond milk."

"I don't blame him," Erin laughed. "Almond milk is disgusting."

"But it's better for you...and cheaper."

"Of course that's your reason for getting it."

"Halstead!" Antonio yelled. "Your phone's been ringing off the hook for the last minute. I think it's important."

"Be right there!" Jay quickly poured himself a cup of coffee and then rushed over to his desk.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Who was it?" Erin asked as she emerged from the breakroom, holding her own cup of coffee.

"Y/N," he answered as he fiddled with his phone. "Called me three times in the past minute."

"Any idea what it's about?"

"No, but I'm about to find out."

"Jay!" you whisper-yelled from the other end of the line.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Why are you calling me so much? Are you sick? Do you need me to--"

"There's a bomb."

Jay almost dropped his phone. "A bomb? Are you sure?"

At the mention of a bomb, everyone's heads snapped towards him.

"Yeah, we're hiding out in the bathrooms near the football field right now until they get the all-clear," you told him. "But, they can't let people walk home from school today and Dad's not answering and it's Will's first day, so I was wondering if you could pick me up?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Do you mind if I put you on speaker for a quick second?"

"Why? I'm fine Jay, really. Just needed to know if you can pick me up."

Innocent fourteen-year-olds, Jay thought to himself. Of course, she just called to pick to see if you'd pick her up. She hasn't grasped the gravity of the situation, and she's probably thinking that this is just another story to tell. Not that if there's actually a bomb at her school that she could be dead any second if it goes off.

"You're sure you don't want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"You can go."

"Okay. Just, listen to the adult that's in there with you, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Bye."

"Bye I love--" He was cut off by the beep which signaled that you had hung up. "--you."

"What's going on? A bomb?" Erin asked, but Jay was already making his way down the stairs.

"Sarge!" Jay yelled as he made his way to the front desk.

"Well, hello to you too, Chuckles. If you're looking for Voight, he's just meeting with a CI and should back soon," Platt told him.

"Sargeant, all due respect, I don't give a damn about Voight right now. I just need to know if you have any idea about the bomb threat at Central Chicago's high school and middle school campuses?"

"I know that they sent someone from bomb squad and some patrolmen over there to see if there's anyone who seems suspicious--"

"Why wasn't Intelligence notified?"

Platt's jaw dropped and she stared at Jay for a second before speaking. "Because last I checked, detective, those schools weren't in our district--"

Jay slammed his hand down on the desk. "Jay," Erin said and grabbed her partner's arm. "I need you to calm down for a second, okay?"

"I don't need to calm down, Erin," Jay spat. "I have every reason--"

"I understand, but being pissed at Platt here isn't going to fix anything. Go back upstairs and I'll be there in a second."

Jay ripped his arm from Erin's grip and stalked upstairs, not without slamming the gate when he was safely inside the Intelligence Unit's area of the 21st District.

"What's his deal?" Platt asked. "I have half a mind to write him up for insubordination for that little scene he just caused."

"Sarge," Erin started, "the school that called in the bomb threat, that's the school Y/N goes to, Jay's little sister."

"What? I thought that only elementary school kids were at school right now?"

"That's true unless there are sports practices."

"And Y/N's in a sport, so she's at school right now." Platt put the pieces together.

"Yeah. And, I know that family isn't supposed to work cases, but could you maybe make an--"

"Erin, go grab Halstead and Dawson, get down to the school. I'll send the information upstairs to Atwater and Ruzek and they can see what they can get. I'll also call Voight and tell him to meet you there."

"Thank you, Sargeant!"

Erin jogged upstairs and into the bullpen. "Jay, Antonio, we're heading to the school! Kev and Adam, Platt said that you're working the case from up here. Voight will meet us there."

"Copy that," Kevin answered.

Jay holstered his gun and was halfway down the stairs before Kevin even finished his sentence.

***

"Kev, what do we know?" Jay asked as they were driving over to your school.

"Uh, I pulled footage from the high school's office and apparently an unknown dude walked in, asked a question, and then walked out all in the span of less than a minute," he answered.

"Can you run facial rec?"

"Nah, not a good enough angle."

"Description?"

"Dude looks Indian or Middle-Eastern to me. He's got short, black hair. Some stubble, not a ton, but it's enough that you can see it even with the bad angle I got. He's kinda chubby, too. Wearing a tan jacket. That's all I got."

"Thanks, man. That helps. Anything from bomb squad?"

"They haven't located a bomb yet, so I guess that's a good sign, right?"

"It is if there's no bomb," Jay replied. "But, just because they haven't found it, doesn't mean there's not a bomb. Whoever the hell did this could've just hid it really well or do whatever a psycho does when they want to blow up a school full of kids."

Jay relayed the information to Erin and Antonio who were also in the car and then hung up his phone. "Any word from Voight or anyone else when I was on the phone?"

"No, you want me to go to the middle school or the high school?" Erin asked.

"Wherever you can get in."

"Jay, we have badges, we can get in anywhere."

"Middle school then. I'm assuming that's where Y/N is."

"Okay."

"Wait!" Jay exclaimed, almost causing Erin to slam on the brakes. "When I was talking to Y/N earlier, she said that she was in the bathrooms near the football field so we need to go to the high school."

"You're sure it's that field? Isn't there a football field at the middle school, too?"

"That's just a shitty practice field," he answered. "Anyway, the high school football field is the only one that has bathrooms near it so that spectators can go to the bathroom when they go to the football games."

"I shouldn't have to tell you this, Jay," Antonio started, "But you can't just burst into the locker rooms and try to get Y/N out of there. No parents are allowed in or out to pick up their kids. And, you're no different. You have to wait for the all-clear to get her out of there."

Jay hated it, but Antonio was right. No matter how much he wanted to get you as far away from this campus as possible, he couldn't until the bomb squad made sure that there wasn't a bomb anywhere near here. If his time in the Rangers had taught him anything, it was that one misstep, and the whole place could get blown up in a nanosecond.

Erin started to pull into the parking lot of the high school near all the cop cars, when one turned on their sirens and pulled in front of them, effectively stopping them from getting any further.

"I know you're worried about your kids," the patrolman said once Erin rolled down her window, "But we can't let anyone in or out until this is all sorted."

"We're not parents." Erin pulled out her badge. "Detectives Lindsay, Dawson, and Halstead from the 21st District's Intelligence Unit."

He looked at the officer next to him. "Desk Sergeant from the 21st said that there'd be some detectives coming." He pushed the button on his radio before anybody could tell him otherwise. "I got the detectives from the 21st here right now."

"Copy," the person on the other end said.

Jay wanted to jump out of the vehicle and strangle that patrolman with his bare hands. "Are you fucking insane?" he yelled.

The one who keyed his radio stepped out of the patrol car, and Jay did the same. "Are you Dawson or Halstead?"

"Halstead. But you, you must be new here because if there is one thing you absolutely do not do when there's even the mention of a bomb is key your radios."

"No offense, detective," the patrolman in the driver's seat started, "but everyone here has been using their radios since we stepped onto this campus."

"There's no bomb," Erin muttered.

They all knew what the patrolman's statement meant: if they had been using their radios the entire time they were here and a bomb hadn't gone off, then there was no bomb to begin with.

Antonio and Erin both stepped out of the car now.

"Who's your sergeant?" Antonio yelled.

"Why? Why do you care?"

"Because of what he just said! You can't key your radios when there might be a bomb, so I think your whole district might need to go back in for a mandatory re-training!"

"I'll call Voight," Erin said.

"Fucking idiots," Jay muttered as he pulled out his phone.

As soon as he was about to dial your number, a call came in from Kevin. "There's no bomb," Jay said as soon as he answered, not even giving Kevin time to tell him anything.

"I mean, yeah, I was callin' to tell you that the bomb squad just declared an all-clear."

"Thanks."

"How'd you know before we even got the call here at the district?"

"They were keying their radios the entire time and nothing happened."

"Yeah, that'll do it."

"We should be back at the district soon."

Jay hung up and made his way to the bathrooms.

You were sitting in silence with Emma next to you when a banging was heard coming from outside causing you to jump.

What if that's the bomber and he's got a gun and wants to kill us before the bomb can get to us? It was irrational, yes, but it was still possible.

"Chicago PD! This is the all-clear."

It was as if everyone in the bathroom let out a collective breath at hearing that there was no bomb or that the bomb had been dismantled.

"Alright girls, you heard the man, we are good to go," Mrs. Rivers said. "Let's head back to the middle school so you can grab your stuff and start getting back to your parents. Was everyone able to get ahold of someone to pick them up? Because I can bring people home if necessary."

All of you filed out of the bathrooms and into the crisp fall air. You were barely onto the sidewalk when you got pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

"Who the--" You looked up. "Hi, Jay."

"Oh my God, you're okay. You don't know how worried I was--"

"Jay, I'm fine," you squeaked out. "But please let go. You're crushing me."

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized and then let go, not without looking you over for injuries even though you promised him that you were in fact fine.

"50-21 George, 50-21 Lincoln, 50-21 Frank, and 50-21 Squad, assistance is requested at Chicago Med for a 10-34. Are you able to assist?"

Jay's eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat.

"Jay? Jay?" you asked. "You gonna answer that?"

"This is 50-21 Lincoln, hold us down on that 10-34 at Chicago Med," Erin's voice said through the radio.

"Halstead! We gotta go now!" Antonio yelled.

"Jay, what's going on? Will's at Med. What's happening?"

"Come with me," Jay said and then started ushering you towards the car.

"Shit," Erin said when she saw you. "Antonio, you wanna go with Voight, and then me and Jay will drop her off at home? We can't exactly bring her with us."

"Yeah, good idea." Antonio turned to you. "Glad you're safe, kid."

You nodded as he jogged off to find Voight. Then, you turned back to Jay. "Why are you going to Med? Whatever it is, I wanna go with you because what if Will's hurt? I wanna go!"

Jay got in the passenger seat without answering you and you got in the backseat. Erin started driving to the middle school so that you could go get your backpack from your locker.

Once inside school and connected to the wifi, you took out your iPod and pulled up google.

What does 10-34 mean?

The answer almost caused you to drop your iPod on the tiled floor.

10-34 is a police radio signal that means that a bomb threat has been called in.

You ran to your locker and with shaking hands, put in the combination. How was Jay so calm? How was he so calm when you were silently freaking out? And, to make matters worse, he got to work the case while you were going to be stuck going home and just waiting to see if Will (and Jay for the matter since he would no doubt be in the vicinity of the blast zone) was safe, just waiting to see if your oldest brother, who you just got back, would make it out of his new workplace alive.

You hustled out of school and then got into the backseat of Erin and Jay's car. "There's a bomb threat at Med?"

"Who told you that?" Erin asked, turning around in her seat.

"I googled what 10-34 meant. Jay, please, I wanna go with you. I don't wanna go home!"

"No! I know you wanna make sure that Will's safe, and I do too, but you gotta understand that it's not safe for you there, Y/N," he pleaded.

"It's not safe for you to be there, either!" you argued.

"Y/N, I know you're scared, but I'm trained for this kind of stuff. You are not."

"Please," you begged as your lip began to tremble. "I-It'd be faster for you to just go to Med from-from here instead of dropping me off at home."

"She's got a point, Jay," Erin said.

"What? No way, Er! There is no way in hell she is going in there with us!"

"She doesn't have to go past the tape with us. Just somewhere close by." Erin turned back to you. "Would that make you feel better, Y/N? Being somewhere close by?"

You nodded as you wiped away a tear.

Jay sighed. "Fine," he relented. "We'll drop you off at Mama Garcia's to get your homework done since it's a half-block away from the hospital."

"Will's okay, right? You checked in with him?" you asked.

"I haven't yet, but I promise you when I do, I will text you. I just need you to stay calm and focus on yourself right now. It's no use worrying about Will when you can't do anything about it."

"That's what Mom used to tell me when I was worried about you when you were in Afghanistan. She always told me that it's no use worrying about it since none of us were there with you."

"See, you gotta trust what Mom always told you, kiddo. She was a smart lady after all."

***

"Tell me you're not in there," Jay spoke into his phone as he and Erin walked into the police tent-like structure equipped with fancy tech gear outside of Chicago Med's emergency department.

"I am," Will answered, causing Jay's stomach to drop. "Listen, the guy who blew himself up in here, said he had something worse than Ebola."

"What, like he's spreading it since he blew himself up?"

"Yeah, so essentially, every single one of us in here has been in contact with him."

"Who was he?"

"No idea. But do us all a favor and find out."

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered as he pocketed his phone and entered the tent-like structure where a bunch of people, including the FBI, were sitting at computers.

"Talk to Will?" Erin asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jay answered, "he says he's in there. Apparently whoever the hell blew himself up in there was infected with something that he said was worse than Ebola."

"So if these people get out before we figure out what it is and if it's treatable, we could have an epidemic on our hands?"

"Exactly. Damn, Er. With that mind of yours, you should've gone to med school."

"Very funny, Halstead. You're looking at someone who barely graduated high school and didn't even go to the academy because being in the back of cop cars on the eastside for half my childhood was more than enough experience to qualify me for this job right here."

"I'm gonna start making some calls." Jay turned his attention back to the situation at hand. "Apparently traffic was a mess earlier and Voight and Antonio got called to headquarters to brief some higher-ups about this."

"Fat chance of them knowing anything right now. They've gotta just be trying to keep all the info away from the press." Erin's phone rang. "Speak of the devil."

"I'll call HQ and try to get some more back up to control the situation," Jay said to no one in particular.

***

You kept fiddling with your slide phone, just opening and closing it as you tried--and failed--to focus on your homework as you sat in one of the far back booths at Mama Gracia's. The news was of course playing on the tv in front of you and all the headlines were about what was happening at Med.

"Again we have word of an event at Chicago Med," the news anchor read from her script. "The CFD was able to contain the victims to the ER, but Ebola was mentioned."

Ebola? That was the disease that wreaked havoc on Africa last year.

You knew Will was a doctor and that he was smart, but if he became infected and it was in fact Ebola, what if he died? What if, since Jay was close to Med that he somehow became infected and he died, too? What if you lost both your big brothers in the same amount of time because of some psychopath who decided it was a good idea to blow himself up and put innocent people--innocent first responders--in danger.

"Ay, cariña. ¿A dónde vayas?" Mama Garcia asked as you stood up and made your way to the door, intent on exiting the small restaurant.

"¿Qúe? No entiendo," you answered. You had started taking Spanish this year, so you only understood one word of what she had said to you.

"Sorry, honey. Where are you going? Your brother said to make sure you stayed here."

You and Jay were both pretty close with Mama Garcia. Seeing as it was very close to Med, when your mom had been hospitalized for cancer years ago, you'd always come in here to get dinner. It was here that Mama Garcia had taught you all the words of the toppings that one could put on their tamales, tacos, or burritos, shocking your Spanish teacher when you told her you could tell her in Spanish exactly what you would put on your tamale when you learned about food in class.

"I'm just going for a walk," you answered. "I need some fresh air."

"Okay, don't go far," she warned.

Once out the door, you breathed a sigh of relief and started to walk towards Chicago Med.

When you got close enough, you saw a big white tent and a bunch of fire trucks. You crept to the side and started walking around the side of the building, where there were barely any people and only one cop to keep people at bay. You smiled at him and watched the scene in front of you.

You had seen of those firefighters before on a rare day that you were at the district waiting for Jay and one of them had to walk the firehouse dog, Pouch. He was super cute and all the firefighters were really nice and let you pet him!

"What is it Casey?" a deep voice bellowed.

You knew Casey! Well, you knew of him at least. He was the one that Hermann always said would write him up if he was gone too long with Pouch, so that was always the excuse he gave you when he had to leave the district to go back to the firehouse.

You couldn't hear what Casey said on the other end, but you could hear whoever this guy was talking to Casey. "Okay, we're gonna need to get some CO2 extinguishers inside."

"You mean you're out of fire extinguishers?" a woman next to the firefighters asked.

"Afraid so."

You turned on your heels and sprinted back towards Mama Garcia's. You were a girl on a mission.

"Mama Garcia! Mama Garcia!" you shouted as soon as you were inside.

"Y/N, ¿Qúe pasa?" she asked as she stuck her head out of the kitchen where she was preparing a bunch of batches of tamales.

"They're out of fire extinguishers at the hospital, do you have any that I can bring over there?"

"You are just like your brother," she said, "super sneaky."

"When you live with older brothers and have to steal their Halloween candy, you learn how to be sneaky, Mama Garcia," you joked.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you know this. There's one fire extinguisher back by the bathrooms and I've got two back here I can give you. Esperes un minuto."

You went and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the spot where it was stored in the back by the bathrooms and waited for Mama Garcia to come out with the other two.

"Thank you!" you exclaimed as you took the big bag from her which contained the two other ones. She had put them in a bag for you since they were super heavy.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and carried the other one in your hand. You knew you couldn't run because these were really heavy, but you knew you had to get to Med to help them. Both your brothers were there! And you'd get there, even if it was a lot slower than you had originally planned when you formulated this plan when you were sprinting back to the restaurant five minutes ago.

***

"Is there a detective Halstead here?" a patrolman walked into the tent-like structure and asked.

"That'd be me," Jay answered as he raised his hand and turned away from the computer screen he had been looking at.

"There's a girl outside, Y/N I think she said her name was. Said you're her brother and that she's looking for you. Said she might be able to help."

Jay turned to Erin. "Go," she urged him.

Jay followed the patrol officer to where you were standing and to say he didn't look happy would be an understatement.

"I thought I told you to stay at Mama Garcia's!" he yelled over the crowd of people and the firefighters shouting out orders to each other. "It's dangerous for you here!"

"I know and I'm sorry! But, I came here to see if Will was outside, and I heard that one firefighter talking into his radio thingy, and then the lady next to him said that they were out of fire extinguishers."

Jay crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was not impressed.

"So I ran back to Mama Garcia's and I grabbed these." You held up the fire extinguisher that you had set on the ground next to you because you had been carrying it for a while now and you thought it was going to rip your arm off because of how heavy it was.

"Let her in," Jay declared.

He grabbed the extinguisher from you and then made his way over to the firefighters.

"Chief!" he yelled. "I've got some fire extinguishers here!"

Chief Boden cocked his head to the side. "How?"

"Apparently my little sister was here and she heard Ms. Goodwin say that you were out of extinguishers. So, she ran to Mama Garcia's and these are from her restaurant."

You set down the bag that contained the two fire extinguishers. "Geez, those things are heavy!"

"That they are. Thank you for these..." Chief Boden trailed off, not knowing your name.

"Y/N," you answered.

"Well, thank you Y/N."

"You're welcome, Chief. Please get my brother out of there safely."

"We're doing our best. And, call me Wallace."

He nodded at Jay and Jay placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to where he had been working alongside everyone else who wanted to figure out what the hell had gone on in there. Behind you, you heard the other firefighters volunteering to go inside the hospital.

"You're not making me go back to Mama Garcia's?" you asked Jay as you walked.

"No," he answered. "It's gonna get dark soon and I don't need you sneaking off from there again."

"So, I'm staying here so you can keep an eye on me?"

"Precisely."

***

You were sitting in a metal folding chair, scrolling through your iPod--wifi courtesy of Jay's hotspot--when three people entered the tent-like structure.

"Detective," Sharon Goodwin said as she entered the area where everyone was working. Jay looked up from the computer he was working at. "The parents of..." she trailed off, allowing you to assume that these were the parents of the man who had blown himself up.

"Alright," Jay said as he walked over to them. "Please, have a seat."

His voice was monotonous, not soft like when he was talking to child victims and not angry like when he was trying to get a hardened criminal to break. His voice, it was just...there.

"Is there anything you can tell us?" he asked once the parents had sat down.

"He was a smart boy," the man started, "always nice...and helpful. This country has given us so much. How could this have happened?"

"He claimed to be infected with something similar to Ebola."

You felt like you couldn't breathe. So, what the woman on the news had said was true. Your brother--and everyone else in the hospital for that matter--could be infected with something similar--or god forbid, worse--than Ebola.

You couldn't take another funeral. You couldn't take losing another family member before you even learned how to drive, hell before you even got to high school.

Your mind flashed back to when you were four years old. Will was in college and Jay was in his senior year of high school. It was springtime and the weather was just starting to get nice out.

You woke up from sleeping and realized you were thirsty. Seeing as you didn't think it was super late yet, you hoped that maybe Jay or Will would still be up and they'd give you a cup of juice. They were on babysitting duty tonight because your parents had gone out for a date night and knew they wouldn't be back until the early hours of the morning.

With Beary gripped tightly in your hand, you walked down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You saw the living room light on, and then it was quickly turned off.

"Mommy? Daddy?" you asked.

The only light now was from the hallway and you were starting to get scared. Monsters would come out if it was too dark!

Suddenly, the light was flicked back on.

"Y/N, what are you doing up?" Jay asked as he walked towards you.

"I want juice," you told him. But, then you looked at what he was wearing. He was wearing one of those shirts that he had to wear when you and your mom went to his soccer games at other schools. Jay always said that if he didn't wear this type of nice shirt, that he and his team would have to run suicides. You didn't know what those were, but they didn't sound nice. "Why you not in your 'jamas?" you asked. "You have a game? In the dark?"

"Uh," Jay blanched. He couldn't exactly tell his little, very talkative sister, that he was sneaking out to go to a party. "Let's get you some juice."

"Okay!"

Jay got you some juice and started to take your hand to walk you back to your room and tuck you back in when you turned to look at him. "So you going to play soccer? Or you going to see Allie?" He always wore those kinds of shirts when she came over in one of her really fancy dresses. And, Jay would give Allie a flower bracelet, too!

Jay crouched down so he was eye-level with you. "Y/N, you know what a secret is?"

"Yeah! It's when you can't tell somethin' to somebody. Mommy said secrets are bad," you told him, while you swung Beary back and forth in your little hand.

"Well, they're not all bad," he told you. "So, if I told you a secret, you'd be able to keep it?"

"And not tell Mommy or Daddy?" He nodded. "I dunno. I don't wanna get in trouble and have to go in time-out, Jay Jay."

"You won't get in trouble, I promise. And, if you promise not to tell Mommy and Daddy and Will, I'll get you a big pack of Oreos."

"I get Oreos for not telling Mommy and Daddy and Will?"

"Yes, you get Oreos if you don't tell them."

You'd do just about anything for Oreos!

"Okay, I keep it a secret. Where you going?"

"I am going to a friend's house to hang out."

"Okay." You didn't know what was so bad about that, but you wanted to get your Oreos, so you'd keep your mouth shut.

"Alrighty then, let's get you back to bed. Because, if I'm not mistaken, princesses need their beauty sleep."

He tucked you back into bed and got out of the house safely. Now all Jay had to do was to entrust you with the secret that he had snuck and went to a "friend's house", which was code for going to a party.

You had almost fallen back asleep when your door creaked open.

"Y/N," Will whispered.

"Will?"

"Yeah, it's Will," he answered and flicked on your bedside lamp.

"Were you talking to Jay a few minutes ago?"

"No," you lied. You wanted your Oreos!

"Are you sure about that? Because I could've sworn I heard you say Jay Jay."

"You wrong," you told him defiantly.

"Oh yeah? Because I heard him mention Oreos."

"No, no Oreos. He only got me juice."

"So you did talk to him."

"No, I didn't."

"Then who got you the juice?" Will knew you couldn't pour yourself a glass of juice without spilling it everywhere. He also knew that the glasses were up high enough in the cupboard that you needed someone else to reach them for you.

"Uh, uh, the-the juice fairy!"

"The juice fairy, huh? I've never heard of her. Because I could've sworn I heard you ask him if he was going to play soccer and he told you that he was going to a friend's house."

"No, he didn't!" you protested.

"Tell you what, kiddo, if you tell me where Jay went, I will give you Oreos, too."

You furrowed your eyebrows. Will was gonna give you the same thing and Jay might be mad at you. You needed something more. "Oreos and Sour Patch."

"Deal. Sour Patch Kids or watermelons?"

"Kids," you answered.

"Okay, it's a deal. Now, where is Jay going?"

"He went to a friend's house. But he was wearing one of those shirts he wears when he has to go to other schools for soccer," you answered.

"He's going to a party," Will muttered.

"A party? Like my tea parties?"

"Something like that." Where the tea is beer, Will thought to himself. "But, now you have to wait for Jay to give you your Oreos, and then I'll give you your Sour Patch Kids and Oreos."

"Then I have two Oreos?"

"Exactly. Now, time to go back to sleep."

The next day, Jay gave you a family sized-pack of Oreos that you hid in your room. The day after that, Will came home from studying at the library with a family-sized pack of Oreos and a big bag of Sour Patch Kids for you that you also ended up hiding in your room. And, that night at dinner, Will told your parents that Jay had gone to a party. He was grounded until the end of soccer season. But, Will had successfully taught you how to blackmail someone.

"Y/N." Erin's voice broke through your memories of being a little kid and being taught blackmail by your oldest brother. "I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?"

"W-What if Will-- What if he gets the--"

"Y/N, match my breathing."

She took a deep breath in and you tried to follow. It took a few tries, but your breathing eventually evened out and returned to normal.

"Will," you heard Jay say.

Before you could even think, you had jumped off your chair and were barrelling towards Jay. "Will? You're talking to Will? Is he okay? Is he gonna come out soon?"

"Y/N," Jay spoke calmly, "we just need to ask him some medical questions. Go back to where you were."

"Is he okay?"

"Y/N's here?" Will asked from his spot in the ED. "Why? How?"

"It's a long story. But, I'm gonna put you on speaker so that you can tell her that you're okay and then I need you to answer some questions."

Jay put the phone on speaker.

"I'm fine, kiddo. Really. You wouldn't want to see me right now anyway. You wouldn't want to come in here either because it smells really bad."

"You promise you're fine?"

"I promise. Now, I think I need to answer some questions?"

"Yeah, yeah," you heard Jay say as you walked back towards Erin. It was quiet in there now, as everyone was listening intently to what Will was saying.

Apparently, Antonio and Voight had looked up where this psycho worked and had figured out that he was the same guy who had walked into the high school's office earlier that day, which he probably did for a distraction. Now, they just had Will on the other end telling the infectious disease specialist in the ED all the chemicals that he had been working with so that she could test for them.

***

"Jay! Why'd you turn off your hotspot?" you whined as you pulled up google.

"Because you heard the bacteria and the strain and I know you. I am not letting you go down a google rabbit hole to look this up and try and figure out if Will's gonna die."

You sighed and put your head in your hands. Jay was right, of course, he was right, he's a detective for crying out loud!

"But what if Will's gonna die?"

"Y/N." Jay walked up to you. "He's not gonna die. He's gonna be just fine."

"But you don't know that!"

Jay's phone rang. "It's Will."

"Put it on speaker."

"It's not contagious," Will said.

If you weren't sitting down, you would've fallen to the ground in pure relief.

"So, you're good?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Everyone's good. Whatever he had, it died with him. I've got some patients that need work, but I'll be out soon."

***

Everyone from the hospital, the police, and the firefighters were all currently packed into Mama Garcia's. You, Will, and Jay had snagged a booth because your backpack and homework were still there from earlier.

"That's one good thing about being the middle child I guess," Jay stated after he had taken a bite of a tamale. "Not having to be the victim in one of these bomb situations."

You knew he meant, here, today, in Chicago and not overseas. And, you weren't about to wreck his joke by mentioning that.

"Yeah, but you had to work it," Will pointed out.

"Technically, you did, too, man. I think Y/N was the only one who got out of this without a payday."

Jay's phone rang. "Why's Dad calling me?" His eyes went wide. "Oh shit! I didn't tell him that I picked you up from practice." He threw his phone to Will, who narrowly caught it. "You talk to him!"

"Me? Why me?"

"Because he likes you better!"

"But he's calling you!"

You swiped the phone from Will's hand and answered it. "Jay? Do you know where Y/N is? I came home from work and--"

"Dad, it's Y/N. I'm fine. Jay picked me up from practice and I'm assuming you got a phone call about what happened at school and then he had to go to Med to work that case."

"Med? As in Chicago Med? Where Will just started working?"

"Yes, Dad, Chicago Med. And, we're fine. We're just a Mama Garcia's getting dinner."

"It's ten o'clock at night!"

"I know, and we should be home soon. I promise I won't complain about getting up in the morning."

"Okay, well, I'm glad you three are safe. Just next time, tell Jay to call me."

"Okay, Dad. Bye, love you."

"Love you, too."

You hung up the phone and passed it back to Jay. "He didn't disown me, did he?"

You laughed. "No, no he did not."

"Y/N, right?"

You looked up at the sound of your name to be met with a firefighter.

"Yes, and you are...?"

"Matt Casey." He stuck out his hand for you to shake and you did so. Despite hearing about him, you'd never actually met the lieutenant. "Chief Boden mentioned that you were the one who ran down to Med with all those extinguishers."

"Oh, it was no big deal," you told him shyly. "They're actually Mama Garcia's. I just heard you needed them, so I asked if I could run them over to you guys. It's her you should be thanking."

"Well, you played a big part in that. So, if you want a dessert, on behalf of me and all the guys at 51, it's on me tonight."

He handed you a ten-dollar bill. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. You made up for your brother almost black-tagging Severide."

"You did what?" Jay practically yelled.

As for you, you had no idea what they were talking about. "What? What's black-tagging?"

"You know what? Never mind," Casey said. "Thanks for all your help today, you guys."

"You were the ones who got them extra fire extinguishers?" Will asked, flabbergasted after Casey walked away.

"Yeah. Jay here wasn't too happy about seeing me over there, but when I told him why he calmed down a bit."

Erin slid into the booth next to Jay and he gave her a kiss.

"Ew, guys! Child in the room!"

Jay stuck his tongue out at you.

"I think he's the child in the room, Y/N," Erin said as she thumbed at Jay.

"So, Y/N, anything else interesting happen today? How'd you do on that math homework I helped you with last night?" Will asked.

"I did really well on it, but that's not even the craziest thing that happened at school today."

"Oh, yeah? Then what was?"

Oh man," you sighed. "Where do I begin? I think to tell you that story I'm gonna need to go get me some Flan."

You picked up the ten-dollar bill Casey had given you and slid out of the booth. If someone would've told you that you'd be buying Flan at Mama Garcia's at ten o'clock at night on a school night, you wouldn't believe them, but it would be plausible at least. The rest of the day? Well, you weren't sure that anyone would believe that you and Jay had been at the location of not one, but two bomb threats in the span of a few hours.

Once you got your Flan, you settled back into the booth. "So, it started out like any normal practice except we had to go to the high school to use the track..."

A/N: Guess who cranked out more than 5k words to get this finished today? That's right, me! Anyway, thank you for almost 8k reads! I know this technically wasn't a PD episode (It was Chicago Fire Season 3 Ep 19), but it had both Will and Jay, and the timeline made it so that it was season 2 of PD, so I thought it was fitting. Finally, please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think about this one!

If you’re in the taglist, please tell me if it worked, I’m new at this!

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[newtonsheffield]

You mention how Edwina is the sweet princess but I feel like Kate is also truly loved by the people, they just maybe take a while to warm up to her.

Can we see a snippet of Kate being the Queen of everyone’s hearts like we know she would be and Anthony hyping her up the entire time?

Just you know to compensate for the angst today?

You don’t have to, of course but it’d be nice to read is all 🤗

Oh, Kate is definitely loved by the people by the time her coronation comes round because of a few things that happen during a televised event in two chapters time.

Make no mistake, the Royal family of Genovia is very well loved amongst the public and honestly, while they had thought Kate's relationship with Anthony might be a PR disaster, it turned into pretty well the opposite, let's take a look.

(I'm trying real hard not to spoil anything but some things might slip through and I'm sorry )

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Sophie?" Anthony said nervously to the woman currently flitting around behind his chair, directing a lighting technician with startling efficiency.

"We've been over this, Anthony. Yes. All of my ideas are good, and if you question another of them, I'll tell your mother what really happened to steal you from your engagement party." Sophie looked pointedly at Anthony, whose cheeks flushed as he thought about how Kate had felt, moving against him in the water of the fountain.

"How do you-?"

"I know everything that happens in this palace Anthony." Sophie said dismissively, "Also, Kate told me."

He could see Kate smirking across the room as her make up team flitted around her, putting the final touches on her.

This had been the part of their relationship that was the hardest for him to adjust to. He hadn't thought he would have to. Had thought it would be easy, given he'd had a semi public life as a viscount, but he'd very quickly learned that being associated with the royal family proper was its own kind of pageantry. He had Kate hadn't been together a week before they'd been sat in a room, the Queen Regent's disapproving stare fixed firmly on him, as Sophie chatted with 15 PR experts all tutting and umming.

"Just how public do you want this to be?" Kate's mother had sighed her eyes barely leaving Anthony's hand clutched firmly in Kate's.

Kate had frowned, "I know you think this is a mistake, Mary, but I love him." Anthony's chest had ached, for the disapproval in Mary's voice, though he knew it had nothing at all to do with Kate and everything to do with him, and rightly so.

"I don't think anything, Kate. You're enjoying a not insignificant bump in public opinion given everything that happened at... your wedding, I'm just saying, the public might not take kindly to seeing you in a relationship with someone that tried to stage a coup."

Unfortunately the PR experts had agreed, even Sophie humming sadly, but Kate had insisted, she wasn't going to keep their relationship a secret and so, Lord Bridgerton had emerged as Princess Katharine's public companion two weeks later.

And to everyone's very great surprise, the new royal couple had been a hit. Magazines were filled with pictures of Kate, smiling down at his younger sister amidst all the other school children. Pictures of him kissing her cheek as they got back into the car, the two of them branded star crossed lovers. Two people who weren't supposed to fall in love, but couldn't help themselves, capturing the attention of the entire country. Requests for media appearances pouring in, Sophie's phone ringing off the hook. And it had only been worse when Kate had been spotted, three weeks ago now, coming out of his apartment, an engagement ring fixed firmly on her finger.

So here they were, about to give a televised interview discussing how they fell in love. And it should have been so easy. But it really didn't seem that way.

"You look very handsome. I might have to undo those buttons with my teeth later." Kate's voice growled in his ear as she settled on the sofa beside him, legs crossed primly as she tucked herself against his side, wrapping his arm over her shoulders, her left hand resting on his knee so the engagement ring was front and centre.

Anthony felt himself flush, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Your Majesty." he ground out, ignoring her little huff of breath against his neck.

"Who said I wasn't planning on keeping them?" Her fingernails gliding up his leg, heat rushing to his stomach.

"Can we dial this horniness back to about a 2?" Sophie sighed from her position, by the door, waiting for the journalist to enter.

"What do you think we're currently at?" Kate hummed directing her attention back to Sophie effortlessly as Anthony tried to redirect his thoughts elsewhere.

"As always, 25. We want young and in love not ready to rip each others clothes off and make a celebrity sex tape."

"You can't deny we'd definitely get a lot of viewers." The corner of her lips was tugging upwards in smirk.

Sophie rolled her eyes, "One of these days I'm going to- Sandra! Lovely to see you again!"

The journalist had entered the room, looking around curiously, greeting Sophie politely. Anthony knew Sandra Jacobsen had been very carefully chosen for this interview, the exact brand of questioning carefully plotted out by Sophie.

"Your Majesty." The woman dropped into a curtsy before Kate, who nodded politely.

"And you know Lord Bridgerton?" The woman curtsied again.

"Sandra, it's so lovely to see you again. How is your son enjoying university?" Kate slipped effortlessly into her public mode, kindly enquiring after people, and Anthony knew, while other dignitaries had this information fed to thm, Kate kept her own careful notes on everyone, ready to use at a moments notice, and people were powerless t resist her smile.

Sandra settled in the chair in front of them after several long moments, rattling off some introductions, sending Anthony's anxiety hurtling towards breaking point, Kate's fingers drumming on his knee keeping it from getting there.

"Now, the two of you sent the entire country into a spin a few months ago."

Kate laughed delightedly, "Yes, I suppose it was a little dramatic wasn't it?" She turned to Anthony, her eyes sparkling at him, sending his heart skipping.

"We're nothing if not dramatic." Anthony couldn't help but grin. It was easy to laugh about it now, all the tears shed months ago now disappearing in the wake of this beautiful thing that had blossomed between them.

"I think, I speak for the entire country when I say what a beautiful couple you make." Sandra was saying, but Anthony couldn't pull himself away from Kate's eyes, drowning in them a little, falling deeper and deeper every second nw that he'd let himself.

"Lord Bridgerton?" Sandra's voice caught his attention, as Kate's elbow caught him in the ribs. Sophie hissing behind him like an angry goose.

"Sorry, Sandra I got distracted. Could you repeat that?"

"I was just saying, the two of you met when you were invited to stay at the palace," The very public, very necessary lie always grated on him. But they could hardly have had him say The future queen let me take her home not even knowing my last night and fuck her in my shower. Could they? "What was the first thought that ran through your head when you saw her?"

Kate was smirking at him, her hand tight on his knee, he could almost see Sophie begging him not to say something stupid, an image flashing through his mind f Kate on a barstool laughing delightedly his breath leaving his body.

"Honestly Sandra? Oh No, She's really pretty."

The entire Genovian news cycle is taken up by clips of Anthony stammering through his words, unable to take his eyes off his fiancée, Oh no, She's really pretty played on a loop, made into memes and jokes on late night TV. All with the same sentiment It's what she deserves. And Anthony honestly, couldn't have agreed more.