#mobile right now I can’t go into too much detail without sounding crazy so

[wxtchpilot]

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[le-parole-piu-grandi]

Oh well, here we go again.

It’s a pretty difficult period of my life now. I’ve been kinda betrayed and still can’t fully recover. I never expected a friend (or so I thought) who I knew for over 3 years to be able to start something romantic with my man, who has been with me for almost 10 years.. it even sounds crazy.

Yes, he is 50% guilty too, but he talked to me, explained the situation and I was able to at least start forgiving him. It hurt, and it still does, but at least the biggest thing they did was a hug. No kisses or something more.

And it’s not even that hug I worry about. It’s the fact that he was giving most of his time and emotions to someone else. He lied. He didn’t say the whole truth. And he wasn’t brave enough to just to talk to me when it all had just started.

Sometimes when I think about this whole situation, I feel like I’m acting and feeling like a child. That I should be wiser and smarter. But it’s just how I feel. Now I just want to spill it out a bit again.

As for HER… she never even tried to explain anything. She just flipped the page and moved on. I’m still afraid of the day when I’ll accidentally meet her on the streets of our hometown (it’s very small, so it’s inevitable unless she moves somewhere else). I can’t do conflicts. I get nervous, I get out of breath and can’t think straight in these moments. But I also want to be able to be angry at her face to face. I want to show her how much her actions hurt. I want to understand why she did it to me.

I always thought she was a good person. But she was willing to take what’s mine anyway. Without me knowing, without her fiancé knowing.

And she kept texting my man even after I found out. Even after she had told him that they would no longer communicate. She couldn’t even keep her word. What the hell is going on in her mind?

It was always hard to tell what kind of person she is, but during the last weeks of our communication she seemed quite friendly. She didn’t like to share before. Once she bought a swimming suit, a nice and cheap one, and got mad that her boyfriend told me the name of the shop where she got it. That was so weird for me… But recently she recommended a nail salon, for example. We went to different cafes together every other week, the four of us. We spent time together: went riding snow mobiles, went for walks or rides. It was fun.

And then I found out. I couldn’t even believe it. When I saw in my boyfriend phone that the chat with her was deleted, I had no idea. I couldn’t even imagine that they got into a romantic relationship. There was a clapping monkey in my mind. It’s so strange now, because it was kinda obvious.

Then he lied. I saw it right away. He was just waiting for my reaction. I started to get dressed, because I couldn’t calm down. I decided to go out (at 3 am), because I couldn’t think about anything else to do. I felt like a broken toy, which is no longer needed. I hate this feeling, had a lot of it in my childhood. He asked me what I was doing. I said that he didn’t even respect me, because he kept lying and lying. That’s when he asked me to sit down by him and listen to the truth.

I was shocked.

Turned out it had been going on for about a month. And I had no idea.

I usually write the details (oh yeah, I’ve been journaling this situation a lot, because I can’t afford therapy right now), but now I just don’t want to. The important moment is that he had started the whole thing. He had a dream that they had a relationship, and that’s when he decided to act on it. How simple is that…

But she was the one who asked to keep it all secret (or so he says). I prefer to believe that, in order to be able to forgive him. There is no way to find out the truth now.

That’s why I hate her. She acted like a rat. No apologies, no explanations. Just spitting in my soul and moving on.

And also all these manipulations. “Ultimatums”. She must have felt so powerful. How can a good person turn out to be such a snake?..

He came to her for advice and she acted like a therapist. Even though she doesn’t even have a good relationship herself. Nor does she go to a therapist herself. She told him what he must do and how he must feel. She analyzed my thoughts and actions. It’s so disgusting.

I just want an explanation. But I guess it’s not gonna happen. Oh, well) saving money and going to therapy, that should do!

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x non binary!reader part 6

Fic Drop 2021

- 

Mulder just finished speaking with the Sheriff when he spotted his partner. (Y/N) looked so tired. They were holding their head in their hands and had been like that ever since the boys in blue zipped up the body bags for Jason, his mother, and the other patient that had been attacked. He walked to them slowly and placed a hand on their shoulder. 

“You alright?” He asked. (Y/N) took a deep breath and looked up. 

“I don’t know. I know everything that happened was real, but it feels...I never thought that I would experience that again.” They shrugged, “On the bright side, the cops believed my story this time.” 

Mulder smiled a little and nodded towards the car, “C’mon, let’s head back to the motel.” They stood and the two began walking towards the rental car. 

“What about Winterfield?” 

“Cops are going to search the office now to find evidence of the albuterol and anything related to the DEA. The courthouse is going to have a search warrant by the morning.” 

“Mulder.” They said as Mulder started opening his door, “The full moon is tomorrow.” 

He paused for a moment and looked up in the dark sky and saw the moon was almost full. He looked back at his partner, “We’ll get him. I promise.” 

- 

The next morning, both agents made their way to the pediatrician’s office where there was already a search in place. They met with the sheriff as he was walking out. 

“Agents,” He greeted them, “We found some research regarding the albuterol in a safe in the crawl space.” He handed some of the paper work to (Y/N). They looked them over. 

“It’s like the scrawling of a mad man.” The sheriff said, "Talking about rituals and turning the weak into warriors. As far as we know, there are two other kids in the reports. Both of which were killed in the last attack. According to their parents, they only used their inhalers for emergencies or not at all.” 

“So the DEA was never able to take hold in their systems.” Mulder concluded, "That also means that Winterfield was trying to make more of him."

"That seems to be the case," The sheriff looked back at (Y/N), who was still reading, their face paler than before. The writings from when they were a child were disturbing, describing their body in great detail and how they were perfect to create the master race of lycanthropes.

"We suspect that he's in hiding, but we believe that he's going to come back for you, Agent (Y/L/N)." They looked up at the sheriff's words.

"What?" Their heart dropped.

"We would like to place you under house arrest at your motel until we can apprehend Winterfield. You will be with the best big game hunter in the area, as well as two deputies." The sheriff motioned to the large camo wrapped pickup truck in the other end of the parking lot.

"I-...Right. of course." (Y/N) looked down at the ground. Their fingers gripping the paperwork.

Mulder took notice to their hesitation, "Sheriff, can you give us a minute?" The sheriff nodded and went to speak with the hunter in the truck.

"(Y/L/N), what is it?"

They finally looked up from the papers to Mulder. He seemed genuinely concerned about them. There was a calming sense about him that made them want to relax, but, in this situation, it was nearly impossible.

"I understand why I need to be under lock and key, I do. But I don't feel right about not going after him too." They felt tears burn at their eyes. They were so emotionally exhausted after years of fear just culminating to this moment and they wouldn't get the resolve they wanted.

"Is this about your parents?" He asked.

They glanced at this eyes again, then stared back at his tie, "Partially."

"Aw, you're not worried about me, are ya?" He chuckled.

They met his eyes again, so green and full of determination. It's what (Y/N) liked about him. Fox Mulder may have been known around the bureau as Spooky Mulder, but no one saw the passion. All they saw were the Xfiles. And (Y/N) thought Mulder liked to keep it that way. He had been ridiculed his entire career. But he believed the weird, he believed the strange.

"Skinner didn't assign you as my partner," They blurted out without thinking much. But the fuel was already in the fire, they had to elaborate, "I made up the case file. I kept it secret from my friends at the office because I didn't want them to treat me like I was a joke. I took the case to Skinner and asked to be your partner. I knew you would take it seriously. I knew you would believe me." (Y/N) placed a hand on his arm and smiled weakly, "Please be careful. I don't want to lose anyone else." Before Mulder could speak, he watched (Y/L/N) make their way to the camo truck to speak with the big game hunter and the sheriff.

-

At the motel, they had been given a box of evidence from Winterfield's home to look through. The big game hunter, Rodger, was in the corner of the room facing the door, cleaning the silver bullets he had been given to him from the local jeweler in town. He was an interesting looking guy, the was tall and lean. But his hair was styled so one side of his head was shaved to the skin, 3 long pink scars ran from his crown to his temple.

He noticed their staring and nodded, "Bear."

"Excuse me?"

He pointed to the scars, "Grizzly in Alberta. Probably stood about twelve feet tall. Smacked me right here but I put three slugs between it's eyes. So I can handle your werewolf just fine." He loaded to shells into his shotgun.

"Bears act on instinct. When they feel their family or their territory is threatened they attack. This werewolf thinks just as well as he does as a human." They looked out the window and saw the sun lower in the sky, making their stomach feel like there was a sack of rocks pulling them down.

"You have nothing to worry about, uh...what are your uhh..."

"It's Agent."

-

The search in the woods around Winterfield's house wasn't showing any sign that he had been there recently. But what they did find was a body. In the basement of his home they found a decaying body shackled to the wall, almost mummified. But the anatomy was inhuman.

Mulder looked was looking over a map of the area that they had already searched, needing to use a flashlight now that darkness was setting in. He looked up when he saw the coroner, Dr. Sherman, making her way towards him and taking her gloves off.

"I've seen a lot of weird things, but nothing as crazy as that." She said.

"How so?"

"Well, when the guy died his bones had grown so much that they were splintering. His teeth were so large they cracked his jawbone. He died in a lot of pain." She said.

"Any similarities to the Mulligan boy?" The sheriff, who had walked up behind Mulder asked.

"Sort of. There were signs of the splintering and the cracks in the jaw but they had healed almost instantaneously. But I'm sure when the lab comes back with the results, they'll show DEA like you said, agent Mulder."

"Any luck?" He turned back to the sheriff.

"None. The dogs can't pick up a damn thing. And the tracks we saw lead off into the woods disappeared about a mile in."

Before Mulder could speak, his mobile phone started going off in his pocket.

"Excuse me," He said, stepping away from the group and standing by his car before answering, "Mulder."

"So we found some info on Winterfield." Frohike began, "Or lack of info."

"I couldn't find any family history on him. That is, until I found these articles from the sixties." Byers said, "His name was Lyle Montgomery. And when he was fourteen he went missing for a month in northern Michigan and when he was found, he was covered in blood but completely unharmed."

"There's another news article a month later from the same area saying that an entire family but one was mauled by a bear. The survivor was relocated, but we can't tell where because the adoption was closed." Langley chimed in, "But it was around the same time that we found the yearbook for Elkhorn high school showing their star quarterback."

"Winterfield." Mulder answered, "Thanks guys."

"You got it, Gunmen out." Frohike signed off and the line went dead.

As Mulder walked back to the group his phone rang again, he answered, "Mulder."

"Hey Fox, I think that uh we're not gonna find this guy. He outsmarted us." (Y/L/N) said.

"When did we start on a first name basis, (Y/N)? And it's not over, we're gonna find him." He said, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion at his partner's use of his first name. Not even Scully called him by his first name.

"No, I think I'm just gonna go home ."

"We can't go now. What happened to you wanting to finally end this? To move on from all this?" He was closer to the sheriff and the coroner now, who gave him confused looks as well.

"Fox, I need to go back home." They said again, more sternly this time.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, "(Y/L/N), is he there?"

"Yeah, I just need to hurry up and get home." There voice shook then, "I've decided to leave the bureau and just go home." They took a deep breath, sounding a little choked up.

"Goodbye, Fox." The line went dead.

"We need to get to the motel right now, he's got (Y/L/N)." Mulder had barely gotten the phone back in his pocket before running with the sheriff to his truck and leading the department towards the motel.

-

(Y/N) hung up the phone, a shaky hand setting it back down on the receiver. They avoided looking in the corner of the room where the majority of Rodger was still in the corner. They looked back at Winterfield. His hands were larger than usual and covered in dark hair. His eyes glowed red. He was spattered in blood from the deputies that he been outside and the big game hunter.

"You know he doesn't believe me." They said.

"Oh I know." There was a gravel to his voice that made it sound more animal, "But he's gotta write something when the FBI starts asking where you are." He grabbed their arm with his massive hand and began dragging them out of the room through the broken doorway.

"Wait!" They shouted, "Let me grab my bag. It'll be more believable for the crime scene photos."

"Fine," Winterfield let go, "Hurry up." He seemed on edge, turning his head from side to side as if he could hear something coming. They went to the side of the bed where their bag laid, there was blood from the hunter on it. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw the silver bullets.

Winterfield began angry, "Come on!" He grabbed them by the back of their neck.

"My bag!"

"Screw the bag!" He growled, pulling them outside. In the distance, they both saw the red and blue lights flashing and the sirens screaming the distance.

-

The cars screeched to a stop, the entire sheriff's department pointing their guns. Mulder called to the others, "Don't shoot, he's got a hostage!"

Then Winterfield seemed to shift before his very eyes, growing a long snout and large animal like arms and legs, all covered in thick dark hair. Still standing on his hind legs, he grabbed (Y/N) by their middle and took off into the woods near the motel.

"MULDER!" They called back, their voice fading into the darkness.

"(Y/L/N)!" He called back, leading the department and the canine unit into the woods after Winterfield.

"Mulder!" Their voice was farther away now.

"(Y/L/N)!" He stopped when he no longer saw tracks, looking around for any signs, "(Y/L/N)!"

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Read part 7 here!

Taglist List:

- @theres-a-dog-outside-omg

- @bi-andready-tocry

- @nyotamalfoy

[electricbluebutterflies]

Could you do an 'I didn't know I was pregnant prompt' where somehow Abby, who's a doctor and won't ever live it down, doesn't realize that she's pregnant until she's in labor. Possibly with it being conveniently when she's alone bar delinquents, and someone has to go track down Kane and inform him of what's going on.

Canon-divergent from early s3 ish. Also featuring Raven being awesome and Clarke trying not to have a breakdown, so hopefully I wrote those two darlings okay. Content warning for vague / non-graphic and questionably medically accurate descriptions of childbirth. PG13ish for that and also swear words. Also on ao3.

The thing about quiet is it doesn’t last. She should’ve knownbetter.

It’s been a year, maybe a little more than that. Time flowsdifferently here, but one of the kids – and Abby knows they are not that anymore,most of them are so much more capable than her, but in her mind they are stillso small – is pretty sure they saw a snowflake yesterday. So, bit more than ayear. And about a year since she broke down and let herself be reckless and…

All of this hits her in the worst way as she realizes whather body is doing. This pain is not cramps, but she can’t blame herself forgetting confused, it’s been a while since she’s had her normal cycle and-

Yeah. This is what she gets for ignoring her own body aswell as she does. Dammit.

The worst part is, Abby thinks as she paces across herworkspace because so help her she is not letting this nor anything else stopher, she justified everything. Her last implant had expired shortly after shewas widowed, and she’d passed on getting another one because she was on theedge of forty and had zero plans to ever let anyone else touch her and she didn’twant to waste resources like that, and she’d just… forgotten about that detaila year and a half later when she’d gone and taken a new lover anyways. With orwithout the implant, her cycles were always erratic and she stopped trying topredict that ages ago. Nausea got justified when she wasn’t the only person whoate bad meat (turns out mutant might’ve-descended-from-a-raccoon needs to be cookedlonger than that attempt was); a little weight gain because she iseating more, because that’s a possibility now. Said weight pooling in herabdomen is normal enough for a woman her age, right?

She justified everything, she was wrong, and now she is-

Fuck.

Okay, so right now pants are a mistake. They’re soakedthrough anyways, and somehow the idea of someone wandering in and seeing hernaked from the hips down is one of the less embarrassing details of this wholedisaster. Normal people have seven or eight months to process imminent parenthoodbefore it comes. She won’t even have that many hours. Supposedly births getquicker the more a person has had, and given her track record there…

Another wave of pain hits and she grabs the edge of the tablefor support. At least she’s having this crisis – she is trying to use everyword for it but what it is, and she will go through the guilt spiral later – inmedical. Ideal place for this nightmare. If she has to give birth on herown, as is looking more and more likely, at least she is doing so in a safeplace. That’s about the only thing going right here.

There is, after all, the small issue of her partner havingno damn clue about any of this.

Last she checked – and she tries not to hover, she is notthat kind of woman and their more recent trust in each other has eliminatedsome of her tendencies – Marcus is out on a hunting / scavenging daytrip. Whichmeans he may or may not be back before this is over. Either way, explaining howshe managed to be oblivious for close to nine months about something so significantis not going to be a good time and she is more than a little nervous about thatand-

Abby hears the door open behind her. Great. Now thenightmare is complete.

“Are you…” Raven, thank goodness, at least the intruder issomeone who occasionally has common sense. “Screw that, you’re not okay.”

“How willing are you to believe things right now?” Abbyasks, turning her head to look at her friend. Group bonding across generationsis rough, but she sees a different kind of potential in the younger woman thanmost people do. Like this one, if she doesn’t accidentally kill herself beforeshe turns thirty, has some serious untapped leadership potential. And moreimportantly right now, Raven is extremely well-connected and has a highertolerance for crazy than most people. So, again, ideal person.

“From you, pretty cooperative,” Raven shrugs. “What happenedslash who do I need to electrocute?”

“I somehow managed to ignore being pregnant and… it’scoming.” And saying it out loud sounds even more damning than realizing it herselfhalf an hour ago, dragging another person into this mess with her and puttingthat weight on someone who doesn’t need it. “Feel free to judge me.”

“Nah. Not sure what you need me to do but…”

“Get someone. Anyone. Nothing against you as a person but Ido not trust you to-“

Another contraction hits before Abby can sufficientlyexplain why she’d rather not have someone who interacts with technology betterthan people as her backup here. Great. If she factors in the number of timesthis has happened that she really did think were cramps, and how long it’s beensince closing her legs felt like a good idea… shit. Yeah no. There will be noexplaining this to her partner before it’s too late.

“What I’m hearing is radio your idiot and tell him to gethis ass back here as soon as humanly possible but do not tell him whybecause that’ll break him, grab the first person I can find who I’d trust tocatch something and send them in here to help you, and go through the storageroom and hope there’s still baby clothes in that one box I found some in lastmonth. Anything I’m missing?”

If Abby were more mobile, and/or felt less like her body wasabout to explode, she would hug Raven right now. “Yes. I… yes. Thank you.”

“And try to keep this on a need-to-know basis. Far as anyoneelse is concerned, you figured out you were incubating at a normal enough timebut you decided to keep quiet about it because you hate attention. That work?”

“I’m not sure that’s going to be believable when-“

“It’s believable if you’re a couple weeks before your duedate and you can pass that particular dramatic shitshow off as being more aboutthe timing.”

“I’m not sure if you’re an angel or an evil genius.”

“I’d like to think I’m both,” Raven laughs. “Now, if youthink you have enough time here for me to do that, I’m gonna go.”

Abby assesses herself quickly. Unless something somehow goeseven more wrong, she’s got at least half an hour here. “I’ll be alright.”

And again she is alone, she thinks as the door closes behindher. This is… not an absolute worst-case scenario, but pretty damn close. At best,she’s got a lot of explaining to do when it’s all over. At worst…

Describing this as an accident is a serious understatement. Therehas been no conversation about whether or not to have kids together. It neverseemed necessary. They’re older enough that the risk seemed so low, and therearen’t restrictions on that here, and she didn’t think…

She didn’t think. That’s what this all comes down to. A temporaryvacation from her normal instincts and look what that got her. No time tomentally prepare for a tiny vulnerable creature, no time to think about theimplications for her relationship, no time to even find out if her partnerwants this enough to stick around for it, no time to-

Getting closer. She is not attempting to measure herself butshe can feel the process. Timing-wise, she probably is a few weeks earlyhere, in that comfortable space where that won’t mean any problems for thelittle creature and a normal person’s biggest concern would be not being quitedone with their preparations. Whereas she has done no preparations, whatlittle of her fate isn’t in her own hands right now has been entrusted to atwenty-one-year-old who has even less of a baseline for this, and-

It’s all too much, and Abby starts crying. Most confusedemotional release she’s ever had, not sure if it’s stress or fear or pain oranticipation or probably all of those at once. Overload enough that the nextcontraction feels muted by comparison, overload enough to overlook how uncomfortablethis all is.

It’s just a little ironic that this started bent over atable and it may well end that way too, at the rate she’s going. That’ll be funny,in a couple months when any of this can be, maybe.

She hears the door open again and this time multiplefootsteps, this time she is too exhausted to even turn her head, this time-

“Mom? What the hell?”

Limited options, Abby reminds herself. Limited options ofpeople she would trust to be her backup here, and her own – possibly soon to beolder? – daughter is one of them.

“Clarke, I can-“

“Raven filled me in,” Clarke mutters, sounding so familiarlydisapproving. Abby’s always thought her daughter takes much more after her latehusband, but sometimes there are familiar flickers in there. “You basicallyneed me to catch it.”

“Basically, yes. There should be some towels in-“

“I know where things are. Learned my organization systemfrom you.”

“And I can grab stuff,” Raven adds. That would be the secondset of feet, the bright-red jacket Abby can see in her peripheral vision. “Iwould rather not see the nightmare fuel here but I can hold things or whatever.”

“Any luck with-“

Abby swears she can somehow hear Raven roll her eyes. “Wrongperson picked up, but we tried. The group at least knows something is goingdown here and hopefully I yelled enough to-“

The next pain is strong enough to blur Abby’s vision. “Nextone is it.” She’s amazed she can even talk clearly right now, but her presenceis not going away just because she’s in a crisis. She’s gotten through worse. Rarelybeen on this end of it, rarely felt so helpless, but she will not let anythingstop her. “Be ready.”

Around her, the girls attempt as much prep as they can. Abbydoes not know what they’re doing, does not think about it. There is only this. Thereis her, and the little creature that is about to exit her body, and her olderchild who is surprisingly calm about all of this, and another member of theirfamily who is at least trying to do the same, and a black hole where herpartner should be and-

She screams.

She lets it be a blur. She does not want to remember thesefew moments.

She knows one of the girls is hovering under her with alarge towel in hand, and the other one is yelling, and she doesn’t know whichis which and she doesn’t care. She knows that this is at least a familiar pain,and the first part is the worst, and the little creature – now officially hersecond child, she will let herself process that later – is slick andcooperative and how the child of two such stubborn people is so easy to dealwith in its first moments she does not know but-

“I have a little sister,” Clarke says somewhere in thebackground.

Abby wants to collapse. Wants to sleep for a very long time.She focuses on her body, on all the things she knows. There is still pain, waitingfor the afterbirth to come out. She suspects she’s torn but not as badly as itcould’ve been, and her breasts ache and at some point soon that too will beuseful, and-

She fades out. Exhaustion is a wonderful thing. She knowsher body will do what it needs to, and she trusts the girls enough, and… shecan’t do this anymore.

When she wakes up, she’s somehow been moved to the cot –which means someone else has seen her questionable condition, great, just whatshe doesn’t need – and she’s in a clean shirt and someone has placed cold clothbetween her legs to help the hurting and-

“You really didn’t know?”

She’s not awake enough for this shit.

Abby turns her head and yep, there is her partner (but howmuch longer can she call him that, she wonders) in a chair someone must’vebrought in, looking at her like he does not know where to start but he has alot of questions. It’s been a while since she’s had to interpret that look, andshe is concerned.

“I didn’t know,” she repeats. “You’ve known me since we werechildren, you know I can justify anything, I thought-“

“Alright.” And now for the scary-calm. That particularversion has evolved over the past year and a half or so, as Marcus has learned howto be more of a person, but she still knows it too well. He’s harder to readthis way, and more dangerous to those around him. “When I found out… I thought…”

“Do you really think I would’ve hidden this from you if I’dknown?”

“I had to ask.”

“I wouldn’t… I just went through hell,” she hisses. “Involuntarily.Again. And I wouldn’t have had to if I’d paid more attention to myself but youknow I don’t-“

“I believe you.”

She’s not sure she believes him right now, but she isstill too exhausted to move so that fight can wait a day or two. “Where is…” Shedoesn’t know the right word. My daughter? Ours? Which of those will hold longer?

“Raven’s looking after her. You needed to rest, and… I canlook after you here, Raven can keep the baby in her workshop except when sheneeds to feed.”

Abby rolls her eyes. Yeah, keep a newborn in the mostdangerous place in the settlement, great idea. On the other hand, Raven’sspace is at least warm. “And you’re…”

“Still processing,” Marcus finishes. “Someone tried to radious but we were a few miles out, and when we got back I didn’t have time tothink before someone shoved what looked like a bundle of towels in my arms and…”

“It is yours. If that was going to be your next question.”

“It wasn’t. But good to know.”

“I just… I ignored everything, and I…”

He reaches out for her hand, and even that feels like toomuch physical contact right now but it’s a nice gesture anyways. “I’m notblaming you.”

“Well that’s new,” she mutters. He’s been decent for a year,she should have more faith, but… “Are you going to stay?”

And now for the look of stunned horror, the wide eyes and haltedbreaths and for a moment she’s broken him. “Am I… how is that a question?!”

“You are aware how many bad choices I’ve made here…”

“You’ve always been a little impulsive,” he counters. “And stubborn.And usually right. And I don’t know why you think this kind of innocent mistakewould push me away.”

“It’s a screaming liability of a mistake?”

“It’s ours. And I want… if you want…”

“Yeah. You’ve never done this before. You do not realize thehell you’ve just volunteered for.”

“I’m with you. How bad could it be.”

He leans down and kisses her forehead, and the scratch ofhis beard is way too much, and… yeah. They’ll be okay.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 3

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1       Part 2     Part 4     Part 5

Same day, later in the evening

“What are you doing, Pumpkin?” The Joker crawls next to you although he has an idea about why you look upset.

You’re on your tummy scribbling on a piece of paper and he can tell you are concentrating hard while working on the current project: writing down your name. Only got the first three letters then the rest went blank.

“I….I can’t think…” you intensely stare at the blue pen in between your fingers.

“Of course you can!” J reaches over so he can guide your arm since it’s clear you need help. “There you go… done. Now try to copy it bellow, alright?”

“Hm?”

“Try again Princess,” he taps on the sheet and watches Y/N struggling to imitate the word. “Well done!” The King of Gotham praises. “Wanna give it a shot with a few more simple words?”

“Mmmm…” you debate. “OK?...”

You analyze The Joker’s movements as he depicts four letter words, one of them getting your attention in particular.

“Love?” you smile, happy you deciphered the meaning.

“Yes, a basic…”

“Love?” you scoot over, more and more excited and it clicks for your boyfriend.

“It’s just an example for you to exercise and relearn how to write, understand? It doesn’t mean anything!”

You giggle and touch his nose with yours.

“Love!”

“No Pumpkin! I don’t love you, how did you get such atrocity from my note??!! It has no hidden meaning! I barely, from very afar, remotely, not even similar to love, sort of like you and that’s it!”

You snicker and quickly slide to grab the yellow teddy bear, whispering in its ear:

“Love.”

“Aren’t you listening Princess?? Don’t start fake rumors!!”

Still…Y/N lives on her own little planet and her damaged brain grasped a wonderful concept despite The Clown vehemently dismissing his actions.

“Serves me right for being supportive,” he grumbles and resorts to diversion, the best weapon against your new found logic.

“Wanna read to me?” he points at the pile of children’s books resting on the nightstand: they are the best to use in your present circumstance.

“… … Read?... ” you ask, confused.

“Here,” J picks a random publication and gives it to you.

Might as well fully take advantage.

“Spoil me!” he buries his cheeks in your cleavage, guiding your free hand towards his green locks.

You never figured out how he doesn’t suffocate with his face glued to your skin; sometimes he sleeps like that for hours. Must be a special talent.

“The … ummm… the…. The duck…” you read the first page and massage his scalp, frowning at the words you can’t make sense of. “Cross… … crossed?...”  

“Yeah,” The Joker’s mumbled voice agrees.

“… the… g-glass…” you stutter at the sentence.

“Grass,” J corrects you.

“Hm?...”

“Grass Pumpkin, not glass.”

“Ummm… grass…” you continue to read the best way you can and he rectifies your errors until no more sounds emerge: The King is softly purring, a clear indication he’s dreaming.

You toss the book on the floor, fed up with the difficult task of organizing your thoughts; pampering him is better. You slowly tilt his head backwards so you can kiss him: The Joker frowns in his daze and you pinch his butt, chuckling.

“What is it?” he opens one eye and you pull down on his boxers. “Princess, we had sex an hour ago. Do you think I run on batteries?” the complaint is fast to follow.

... … … Batteries?... …                                            

You jump from the bed and stump to the closet, fumbling around for a couple of minutes before returning to a puzzled Clown.

You stretch the elastic of his underwear, dropping two batteries you snatched from the flashlight inside.

“How… how long do we w-wait?” you innocently ask.

The Joker bites his lip, attempting to contain himself yet he can’t: he bursts out laughing at your quirky solution while dragging you on top of him.

“You’re the funniest and smartest person I know, Pumpkin!” he cracks up, actually convinced he’s telling the truth. “Who’s my clever girl, huh?”

He’s talking about a girl again…What girl?...

Y/N peeks behind her and J reminds his baffled half:

“For God’s sake, Princess! I’m talking about you; you’re my girl! Can you get my phone?” he gestures at his mobile ringing by your pillow.

You give the cell to J, ignoring his conversation with Frost: you keep kissing him with the sole purpose of getting undivided affection.

“I guess Adam is here to pick up the cars you damaged,” he finally ends his chat. “Let’s go supervise the process. Don’t be disappointed, Pumpkin, we’ll have fun later. It’s your fault for destroying my collection!”

****************

The Joker watches his crew sweeping the concrete in the garage: broken glass, pieces of metal and debris scattered on the pavement after his vehicles were hauled inside huge trucks in order to be transported to Adam’s workshop for repairs.

“Thanks a lot, Y/N!” he growls, frustrated.

“Y-you’re welcome,” you serenely reply without a care in the universe.

“You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me, Princess!” he huffs at your indifference.

“Love,” you confess to the fluffy toy squished in your embrace.

“I heard that and it’s an aberration! Why do you keep persisting with this nonsense?! I’m literally stating the opposite!” J admonishes but who’s listening to him?

Not Y/N.

“Nolan is texting me,” he changes subject. “He wants me to meet him at his warehouse to inspect the boxes of ammo for the deal. Will you accompany me?”

“Hm?”

“Car ride?” The King of Gotham simplifies his request.

“U-hum!” you nod, preparing to enter the purple Lamborghini which luckily wasn’t in the garage when you smashed J’s cars.

“Frost, if you see me parked up the street in the driving alley, don’t come investigate, got it? This woman’s been pestering me for extracurricular activities, might not make it inside the mansion.”

“Of course, sir!” Jonny finds it wise to consent to his boss’s rambling.

“Tell everyone: if the Lamborghini’s rockin’, don’t come knockin’!”

**************

You’re sitting on J’s lap, completely blocking the arrangements happening at the table: you’re more preoccupied with your game than whatever it is they are negotiating about.

“What are you playing, Y/N?” Nolan curiously inquires because your thumbs are surely moving at a crazy speed on your cell’s screen.

“Hm?” you stop and gaze his way.

“What are you playing?” the man repeats.

“Mmmmm… Tetrixx Bricks.”

“What level are you on?” Nolan leans over, his eyes getting big at the revelation. “Holy shit, Y/N! How did you make it this far??! I’ve been striving to pass level 98 for a month!”

“She’s smart, that’s how!” your boyfriend sassily underlines.

“Do you think that you can help me?” the guy slides his phone in front of you.

“I’m sorry, is this a gaming party or a business matter?!” The Joker scoffs.

“Well, we’re pretty much done: we accepted the terms, we just have to move the merchandise in the morning.”

You are already matching the colorful blocks on Nolan’s game, his face ecstatic when the obnoxious song announces with great fanfare: “Level Up!”

“Holy cow!!!!” he shouts and you return his phone. “Thank you!”

“Hey Y/N,” one of the mobster’s henchmen dares to voice his demand. “Would you help me too? I’m stuck on level 76.”

“I’m dead on 105,” another goon mumbles under his breath, stepping in the line forming to your left.

J would normally cut off this useless waste of his precious time yet he can’t deny the gratification building up in his heart: heavens knows how it feels to be trapped inside your own mind and his girl has definitely battled unimaginable odds to be where she’s at right now.

Living with cognitive impairment is not easy, but she’s still here and it beats the alternative.

“Good job, Pumpkin!” The Clown boasts at the long string of cell phones parading through your fingers while you aid Nolan’s team leveling up on Tetrixx Bricks.

And somehow his hands are holding you tighter, not even bored with the random outcome of his meeting.

**************

You escaped on the terrace for a break and J is discussing the last details with your host: tomorrow you have a routine checkup, thus he has to wrap it up soon.

“Out of my way, half-wit!” Derek aka Nolan’s oldest son pushes you. Would he have done it if you were the same individual from almost a year ago? Nope. Apparently he believes he’s entitled to take advantage of Y/N since she’s alone outside.

“Why did Mister Joker bring you anyway?” he lights up a cigarette, annoyed. “Stupid monosyllabic bitch!” he ogles your summer dress, swiftly lifting it. “Are you wearing diapers?” he chuckles as you walk backwards, trying to process what he’s throwing at you. “Come on, show me!” he approaches and carefully scouts the premises to ensure you two don’t have company.

Perhaps the neurons in your brain are overcharged for the moment; nevertheless, they warn of imminent altercation: the dude’s a total douchebag.

“Are you shy?” Derek grins. “C’mon, lemme see!! Oooohh…fuuuuck…” he bends over in pain when your knee unexpectedly kicks him in the crotch: you used all your strength and he drops down, curling up in a ball. “God…dammit!” Derek shrieks at the defense he didn’t anticipate.

“I…I’m not wearing diapers!” you stammer and because he landed on the edge of the pool you roll him in the water also.

The loud splash makes The Joker wave at you, glad he eventually found you: he’s been searching around the warehouse for the last 5 minutes.

“There you are! Quit playing around, Pumpkin; we have a swimming pool at home!”

You rush by his side eager to bail before the asshole pops up from the bottom of the pond.

“Sushi for dinner?” J suggests and Y/N is not the type of individual to reject one of her favorite dishes.

“I…I love sushi,” you smile elbowing him. “Love.”

“Don’t start with me again!” The King barks at your obvious hint.

*************

“Are you eating the last piece?” he glares at your salmon roll.

“No,” you offer the treat to him. “You…you need it more,” Y/N verbalizes her concern regarding his well-being.

“Can’t disagree, Pumpkin. You exhausted me you naughty girl,” J pretends to be super tired. “What can I do? Princess wants, Princess gets,” he inhales, resigned.

You’re not focusing on his whining: frankly, your intellect has been challenged enough for today. You cuddle in his arms while he chews on his food and watch TV without paying attention to the movie.

“Don’t forget tomorrow morning you have your doctor’s appointment,” J mentions. “I have to stay and wait for the guns I purchased from Nolan; you’ll have to manage without me. I’ll send an escort, deal?”

“U-hum.”

“Don’t yawn, Pumpkin. I’m the one that should yawn,” The Joker scratches his thigh. “This move sucks,” he pouts and turns off the TV. “I have a better idea,” he chooses a kid’s book from the stack. “Read to me.”

You open the textbook and although your brain is overwhelmed, you still make an effort for his sake.

“Mmm… Rainy… sky… Skies?...”

“Yup,” he turns on his side and nuzzles in your hair.

“Float over…hmm… t-town…”, your voice echoes in the room, soothing a worn out Joker.

Strange he can’t properly rest unless you read to him: after all J barely, from very afar, remotely, not even similar to love, sort of likes you.

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[purple-nana]

Barriers

Part 9 - angst (maybe? oof)

1.5k words    ( Part of the Dorm of us Series)  

Warnings: Noneeeee

A/N: okie, first of all. IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING AN FREAKIN UPDATE. Cuz my pc is kinda busted rn so i hate it so much and i dont like using the mobile version to update :/. But anyways i'll try to updatee more often oncee my pc is back on track achu. Okie you may read now ehe, tysm for waiting! <3

You stared mindlessly at your plain, white and boring ceiling. The endless whoosing noises of the air conditioning continued to be the only source of sound as you lay in your bed.

Maybe, a screw went off in your head that staring into thin air now intrigues you so much.

Well, who wouldn't though? With all the events that happened this month, you were sure that anyone would also lose their mind when they finally get to rest.

It was still hard to believe for you. A month has already passed since—you and Jaemin became a thing.

You smiled to yourself. Jaemin was a really great boyfriend even if—you don't what a great boyfriend is really like since, you've never had one.

But nonetheless you still think that Jaemin is a great one—or so you thought.

The first day was rather interesting if you were being honest. The both of you agreed to meet up at an 'fancy' restaurant.

However, when the both of you were actually there—Jaemin didn't know what to do as well as you who was also completely clueless.

Ditching the fancy restaurant plan, the two of you end up in the park—again. It was nice though, you get to talk with him and play with him, overall it was a fun night.

That's when you thought that Jaemin indeed was a great guy and maybe choosing to be with him was the right choice.

But—things went downhill after that.

The next couple of dates were rushed and was unplanned. It happened almost everywhere. The park, the campus. Most times, it happened at Mcdonald's.

You would wait there for at least an hour before Jaemin arrives, the both of you will just catch up and talk but after that—Jaemin would immediately leave.

It was that time where things were crazy busy cause midterms were coming and your schedule and his were not-so alike to each other.

Due to that, you can't really complain. You expected him to give more time to you at the dorms since it was the only place that the two of you could hang out without interruptions.

But instead—he kept on locking himself inside of his room.

Haechan actually cleaned his room the first two weeks into the month so Jaemin got to move in to his room in a swift.

You don't want to overthink about it, but you can't help it.

But it was somehow—you were being treated differently.

If you were to compare yourself to his ex, which was Oh Miri. He used to be out frequently with the reason of he was going to see Miri.

You wanted to believe that it was because of the midterms that was causing you this overthinking but at the same time—it also makes sense.

There was this part of you that was screaming that this was wrong, and another is telling you that Jaemin was really at fault.

It's giving you a headache.

You just want to get over with this and talk to him, the more you kept your mouth shut, the more you get these thoughts.

You just—want it to stop.

A knock on the door caused you to stop floating in your thoughts. And speaking of the devil, there was Jaemin, peeking his head through the small gap of the door.

You raised your eyebrow at him giving him the look of 'what?'.

He completely understood and went inside of your room. You were confused as to why the heck was he dressed?

"Want to go out?" He asks, placing his palms in his pockets.

You furrowed your eyebrows, surprised that he wasn't 'busy' nor locking himself. "Aren't you busy?" You answered with a question.

He shrugs. "Nah, I have two hours, come on." He said pulling your arm as usual.

You panicked, would this guy really want to go out when he was fully dressed and you aren't? You were wearing a tank top and shorts for pete's sake.

You pulled you arm from him and he looked at you surprised. "You prick! You really want me to go out in this?" You widened your eyes at him, pointing at your clothing which was embarrassing.

He straightened his posture and looks at you from top to bottom, as if he was evaluating you.

"It looks fine to me." He says in confusion.

You face-palmed yourself. Was this guy really dumb or what. Whatever it is you aren't going out in this state.

"Uh-uh, I ain't going out like this," You pushed him out of the room, "now sir please kindly leave the room, I need to change." You sarcastically said in a sing-song voice.

"I could just stay there you know." Jaemin smirks at you, raising his eyebrows in an up and down motion.

You glared at him.

"Okay okay! But make it quick!"

"Whatever!" You slammed the door in his face, quickly making your way to your closet.

Exactly as what you thought, everything still hasn't changed except for the fact that you two are together now.

You pulled out an t-shirt in frustration. Leaning against the closet you thought of ways to tell Jaemin.

Cause you weren't staying silent anymore, you were done.

This overthinking has to end.

"What do you mean?" Jaemin asks you, his eyebrows shot towards the ceiling.

You can't believe him.

"What do you mean you don't know Jaemin? Are you that oblivious to not see how frustrated am I?," you rage at him, jaws clenching, " Or or—you're pretending to not know anything?" You can't help but raise your voice at him.

Not caring about the people who had their eyes on the both of you.

Jaemin slightly bows his head as a way to apologize to the other customers who were also inside the establishment, hoping that they would start to mind their own business before he talks to you.

He looks at you in frustration, he was clearly holding himself from erupting like an volcano. It wouldn't be good if he as well would throw his anger.

"Y/n look, we can talk about this just please—" he looks around the people close to your table, "not here."

You massaged your temples, calming yourself cause you might not be able to the next time around.

You sighed. "I'm so fed up with this Jaemin. I don't want to think about it this way hence the reason why I stayed silent but—I can't take it anymore." You respond to him.

Jaemin remained silent, as if he was asking you the other for more details.

"I-i just don't know what to do about this anymore, I know you're busy and all that but at least—at least make time for me, please make me feel that i'm now your girlfriend Jaemin." You closed as you feel tears form around them.

Jaemin's face softened, he was guilty that he didn't know you were feeling this way. "Y-yn...you are my girlfriend." He mumbles.

"Well yeah?" You raised your eyebrow at him, "I don't feel like it. I still feel like im the y/n who was your bestfriend, not y/n as your girlfriend." You confessed to him.

He was shock at the very least. Jaemin was completely clueless, he might've gotten himself a bit too engrossed with the fact that the exams were coming and—set aside your relationship.

"Y/n I swear, that's not what it is—"

"But it is Jaemin," you cut him off, "I want to be treated as your girlfriend. I want to go to amazing dates, be gifted with flowers you know?"

"I-i thought you didn't like those?" Jaemin questions.

Must be because you were uncomfortable during that first date. But you doesn't mean that you didn't like it!

"I do Jaemin! I just to experience that I'm now your girlfriend, because from the looks and feels of it—it isn't." you repeat.

The both of you stayed silent for a while, not having any more to say.

You decided, it must be good for the both of you to breath out some air before talking about this once again.

You stood up, ready to leave that damned Mcdonald's when Jaemin grabbed your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

You showed him the time. "2 hours is up, you're busy right?" You grinned sarcastically at him, your smile immediately fading as you packed your things.

Jaemin was flustered, he didn't know what else to say but he was sure that the both of you need to talk this out.

"We need to talk about this Y/n." His grip on your wrist, insisting that you should stay.

You pulled your wrist from him, grabbing your purse.

"We'll talk when you finally realize that I'm now your girlfriend, not your best friend who you can treat like shit." You remarked, immediately leaving the place with fast steps.

Leaving Jaemin dumbfounded in his seat.

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[marvel-ousnesss]

The pirate and the witch (part four)

Pairing: Harry Hook x daughter of narissa!reader

Summary: Y/N, an orphan vk who was taken to auradon at a young age, returns to her old home by request of the crown prince. However, things tend to go south at the Isle of the Lost.

Warning: Mild cursing, use of alcohol, sword fighting (no super detailed descriptions)

Word count: 4460(ish)

A:/N: happy Christmas Eve eve!!!  Finally done with part four and turns out I ended up writing a plot that flows slower than intended (oops). I’m sorry for the wait but I’ve been sort of busy with holiday-related procrastination. Also…. I’m working on a request and a Bucky royal au which I’ll be posting soon. As always, lots and lots of love and thanks for reading ❤️ Pls tell me what you think.

(BTW… there’s a flashback at the end, it’s in italics.)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE DISNEY DESCENDANTS CHARACTERS, THE PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN CHARACTERS NOR THE SANDERSON SISTERS. All credit goes to the creators, writers, and producers. Same with the HP charms, credit goes to J.K Rowling (for now, just present in the first parts).

part one        part two      part three      mobile masterlist

— Oi, lass, lass,— a familiar intone is heard when I open the window.

To my surprise, I spot Harry behind a trash container, with my cloak resting on his right shoulder.

When he sees my head peeking out of the second floor window, he pipes, — if you wanted to see me again, you should’ve just asked.

— Who says I wanted to see you, that was a hint for Gil to find.

He snickers at my words,— ya gaunnie come get yer manky cloak, or do I have to go up there?

—Shit, — I breathe — Just a second!

I close the window and look at Jay, who quirks a brow but doesn’t move from his spot on my desk. He began to explore my sketchbook app a few minutes ago, and seems to be completely immersed in it. Nevertheless, he puts the device down and chuckles, — This is you’re place, you know. Say the word and I’ll be out.

His words take me by surprise. Even if he’s been here for a few hours, I still can’t get completely used to the idea of such dangerous people, who are feared to death back home, being as decent and friendly as they have been during my stay here.

So, after a brief goodbye, he leaves and, after all of my Auradon-related stuff, I open the window once again.

— You already came all the way here, what’s a few steps up.

He’s about to make his way up the fire escape but, after a few steps toward it, he crosses his arms and says, — Yer right, I came to yer place, don’t I deserve a prize?

He’s such a flirt. After debating it with myself for a second, I make up my mind.

— Come here and get it, — I wink.

Without a second thought, he runs up the stairs outside the building and reaches my window in no time. What I’m I doing? No one was supposed to find out about this place, yet I’ve brought two vks here in just a day. I try to keep my cool as the pirate walks toward me, stopping about a foot away.

He smirks, —So, doll, ‘bout me prize.

I feel the heat in my cheeks when he takes a small step closer, placing a hand on the side of my waist.

—oh, right… that,——

Think fast, think fast….

I smile at him sweetly and kiss his right cheek, retrieving my cloak from his shoulder. — your welcome, — I smirk.

He laughs at my antics, — yer kidding? Don’t ya say that’s it! Glaickit of ya to think I’ll leave with just that.

—Who says you have to leave?— I utter the words while stepping back in order to sit on my bed.

His brows jump up and his ocean blue eyes shine with mischief and surprise. — What’d you suggest, doll.

— Staying here for a while but, now that I think of it, wouldn’t it be more fun to go out? The docks, maybe?

— Nah, depends on what you want to do. — his words keep coming out laced with an air of innuendo.

Not wanting to give up yet, I decide to play coy. — You know, the usual; take a walk, grab a bite, ‘keep the heid’, don’t you have to do rounds?

This time, it is a mix of mischief and excitement that floods him. — Yer right, can’t wait to see the faces of those wingnut vampires when ya scare the shit outta them!

— yeah… I’m thrilled.

Why did I suggest this, of all possible things to do? The question seems to be trapped in my mind. Ever since we left the apartment, Harry began to show a new side of himself, one that I had only seen in the papers I read beforehand.

He invited me to do his rounds with him, on the way to the docks and, needless to say, my magic resulted completely useless when it came to achieving the level of fear that Harry had in mind.

— Not so badass now? bastard, — he hisses, with a smirk on his face as his hook grabs some guy by the jacket. — whatcha gonna do?

The guy limits himself to whimper and let out some sort of cry. Given that the pirate has already grabbed everything that caught his eye, together with the designated amount of golden coins, the business there is dimmed as finished and we finally  begin walking to Ursula’s.

—So what ya think, see yourself doing this with me and the crew?— he asks.

—Not really, not one for all of the intimidating.

— Ain’t so sure ‘bout that, lassie. You’ve done pretty well for what I’ve seen. — it is kind of weird to hear such words coming from him; even more so when sincerity is all across his handsome features.

I snicker, — yeah, right; I can’t even get a fly to run away.

His chin lifts up and his chest comes forward subtly, — I’d help you with that, if you decided to join us. In fact, — he wiggles his brows with a smirk, — I’d train you.

— As tempting as that sounds, I’ll have to decline, Hook. Got better things to do:

I shouldn’t even think twice about declining but something about exploring my vk side a bit further than I’ve been able to doesn’t sound completely crazy. Maybe is the way he looks at me, or should I say through me, with his ocean eyes; or the way in which those same eyes shine when he’s about to wreak havoc? Don’t really know, and not sure if I really want to.

Guess I’ll just have to solve this problem in the way I do it best, ignoring my questions until they go away.

I begin to run and chant, — Race you to the docks!

….

Panting, I stop in front of Ursula’s and get inside. The place is packed with members of Uma’s crew, some of which seem to recognize me. They acknowledge me without hostility, still thankful for what I did for them the night of the party.

—Look, Uma, Y/N’s here! Bet she’s looking for Harry, — Beams Gil, the blond and tall guy who first broke the ice with me the night I met the crew.

Uma smirks and approaches me, — Look, witchy, not sure if you got the memo but one night stands are supposed to be just that, and last one night, nothing more.

— Thanks for the heads up, cap, but I’m actually here to grab a pint. — I sit down on a barstool.

— in that case, — she turns away, visibly relaxing, — Bonnie! A beer for bibbity bobbity bullshit over here!

When Uma is behind the bar again, Harry, who had been inside and contemplating the scene, approaches me.

— Sorry ‘bout that, Uma just knows me too well,— he ventures. — Ain’t good for the business to have every lady in the isle claiming to see me, now is it?

His cockiness is amusing as it is annoying. — Oh, of course — I ponder.— that would be completely tragic.

He chuckles at me and steals a sip from my still full beer. Honestly, I don’t even like beer that much; just ordered it to play the part. Go

— Yer different, though, — he claims, but I don’t believe a word.

— Do tell, why is that?

— You’re not as annoying. Actually, I kinda like having you ‘round, — he flirts.

— So you, Mr. use-‘em-‘n-dump-‘em, are claiming I’m special? — I gasp mockingly, — what an honor.

We both laugh a bit, share another sip of beer, and he continues.

He shrugs, — Yer also fast. Not enough, but fast; even if you were playing dirty.

—Oh, gods, aren’t you one to talk about that! — I accuse,— and, given the case that I did play dirty, how did I do it?

— Lookie here — he gesticulates, motioning himself. — Racing a hungover pirate ain’t fair, besides, I had too much clothes on.

I chuckle, part of me wishing I could wipe that smirk off his face. — You’re just a bad loser, I’m pretty sure you’re always hungover; and, as for your clothes, not sure how that’s related to me kicking your ass.

— How low do ya think of me, doll, ya think I’m a bad loser? — he fakes a gasp. — and, as for my clothes, —his tone is mocking, — can’t you just enjoy me charm and help me solve the problem? But, in case you wanted a serious answer for your question, nakedness makes me more aerodynamic.

— wouldn’t you like that, Captain cockiness.— my brow quirks up. — And seriously, aerodynamic? Yeah, right.

— Not as much as ya would, my little witch.

I scoff as my eyes drift over to the window. The day is warm despite the lack of sun, so I suggest, — I think I’m gonna go for a walk. Come with me?

…….

The sound of the waves crashing against the docks is one that I’ve loved my whole life, back home, my dad and I go for boat rides often. However, here there’s a bunch of noise that accompanies the punches of water against wood and stones. The market is busy as we walk, but most of the catches turn out to be dead fish and trash that arrives from Auradon.

— I still don’t believe you, you know? It’s impossible for you to fit the grip of your hook inside your mouth; besides, how can I believe you if your too chickened up to prove it,— my arms cross expectantly.

Since we got out of Ursula’s, Harry’s been telling me a bunch of stories of his and Gil’s drunken deeds, and I may have also revealed a few of mine and Chad’s own disventures. For the last five minutes, he’s been trying to convince me that he’s capable of putting the whole base of his hook inside his mouth, but refuses to show me.

— Lass, ya’ll have to take me word for it. I’m still a few bottles of scotch away from doing that again.

—pff,— I playfully shove him sideways. — Yeah, right.

He places the tip of his hook on his chin, pretending to think, — you know, shouldn’t have spilled so much, now ya have lots of dirt on me.

—What am i gonna use it for? You know what, never mind. — I proclaim, — You, Harry James Hook, just made the worst mistake of your life. Now I’ll overthrow you and Uma, and take over the lost revenge. Buahahaha!

He laughs at me and counters, — seriously lass, some of these things, I’ve never told anyone before.

—relax Hook, you can trust me, — I smile, with the sincerity I can muster.

— Oh, okay then.

After the short moment of vulnerability, we fall into a void of uncomfortable silence. We continue to walk along the brick street next to the sea, and my hands seem to find a permanent place inside the pockets of my jacket. Harry softly whistles a melody with his eyes locked down, but looks up and smiles as we reach a familiar ship.

His frame stiffs for a moment as he inquires — You sure I can trust ya?

I hesitate, — Yes, of course.

— Then come on, you’re meeting someone. — he grins.

The ship seems to be isolated from the rest, yet it is full of crew members that work and bounce from one side of the deck to the other.

When we enter their sight, they stop to stare at us and pull out their swords.

One of them speaks with a threatening and raspy voice, — Not outsiders in the Black Pearl, Hook.  

— Relax, Y/N ain’t gonna start beef, Barbossa. — Harry assures, — where’s Jack at?

— Sure hope she does cause some trouble, we could always use some tasty ladies here in this humble ship. — the malice in his expression makes me shiver, not to mention the wicked grin coming from the monkey on his shoulder, so I move slightly behind Harry.

At this point, it’s evident that the younger pirate’s patience is becoming thinner. — She’s not here for that, now where’s Jack?

Barbossa’s pounding laugh comes laced with his response, — His chambers, drinking. Good luck getting him outta there.

So, shielding me from the Wolfish looks sent by some crew members, Harry drags me to what I assume is the entrance of the captain’s quarters.

He knocks three times and a groan is heard on the other side, right before the breaking of a bottle and an incoherent train of curse words.

The door opens to reveal a tanned middle aged man sporting wild dreadlocks and a bored expression. However, his facade changes as soon as he registers that Harry was the one who dared interrupt him.

—Powder Monkey! What brings you to this old man’s ship?— his arm flies over Harry’s shoulder and he drags him inside.

I follow closely behind. My eyes scan the wooden floor and walls, the scattered pieces of green glass that I’m sure recently fell down, and a table full of unopened bottles, surrounded by five stools.

— Just thought I’d come ‘n greet, so you pack of salty dogs wouldn’t forget ‘bout me.

— Nah, wouldn’t forget ‘bout my favorite boot cleaner, — he smiles, showcasing a few golden teeth, — now would I?  

Harry’s only response is to laugh as he opens a bottle of rum, — Also, wanted you to meet a, uhh, an acquaintance. Jack, Y/N; Y/N, this is Jack.

Acquaintance, seriously?

He turns my way, smirking and stretching out a dusty hand, — Well, let me say, m’lady, any friend of Jimbo here is a friend of mine. —After we shake hands, he sits down on the table, grabbing yet one more bottle, — Now tell me, what stupidity have you done to cross ways with this wonky piece of sea garbage?

I’m about to start, but Harry interjects, — She can’t tell you nothing without a dram.

— Only got rum, Hookey, who do ya think yer talking to, Turner?— he scoffs.

— Rum it is, then.

Awkwardly, I state, — Actually, I’m good as it is, gentlemen.

— You don’t drink? — This time, Sparrow breaks into laughter,— got a princess in your hands, Harry. But m’lady, — he turns toward me,— we all drink here, ‘s the code.

I chuckle, — Fine, but just a few drinks.

…

Thank god I have my boots on, I think to myself as I look at the floor. A fit of giggles scale my lips, followed by an almost unperceivable hiccup. It’s been a few hours since we arrived at the Pearl, and we’ve been drinking nonstop. At the beginning, it was only Jack and the two of us, but then Gil ended up here, together with maestre Gibbs.

I told them how I met Harry, but that’s the only truth that I’ve spilled. After all, knowing where I’m from would be enough motivation for these men to make me walk the plank and straight into the kraken’s nest. From then on, I’ve been mostly listening.

— So, then I was like ‘proceed,’ but they noticed I wasn’t white so the one with the fancy wig went all ‘it’s Jack Sparrow, it’s Jack sparrow!’ and I was like ‘nub-uh, I’m justice Smith.’ — Jack speaks  between laughs, with exaggerated esticulations, as he takes another sip of some cheap wine; the rum ran out like an hour ago.

— You saved my ass that day, Jack, I remember it like it happened this very morning, — Gibbs patted his friend’s shoulder.

Gil chimes in, — like that time you saved us from the Huns, we wouldn’t have lasted two seconds without you and Anamaria.

— I haven’t heard that one yet, — I voice, utterly curious.

— Well, — Jack announces, then yawns. — you’ll have to hear it another time, Y/N/N. I've got some business, you know? Gotta sleep for a few years now.

Being the ship’s captain, and the two young pirates’ mentor, no one’s hesitant to comply. We get up and say goodbye, then make our way outside.

All three of us are still fairly drunk, so I decide to take this chance to see if I can get them to open up.

— I still haven’t heard the story of you guys and the Huns.

— ‘S a long one, lass. — states Harry, placing an arm around my shoulder, to which I respond by loosely grabbing his wrist with my right hand, as to keep his arms from moving.

— Well, we’ve got time! — I yowel.

— You’re gonna love it, Y/N. — As we walk, Gil begins to explain, taking a sip of the bottle we grabbed from the Pearl.— We were like seven when that happened?

----

Harry and Gil walked silently, as they kept an eye on Shan Yu’s men. It was Harry’s first official mission as part of his father’s crew, or it was gonna be, and he had called Gil and Uma for help and support. Sadly, the young sea witch had been grounded that very morning, so she couldn’t be there with the two boys. To say that they had absolutely no idea what they were doing was a complete understatement. They were clueless.

So, they did what seemed rational at the moment: follow the enemies and wait for the perfect moment to attack. Or… at least that’s what Gil had heard his father say when he talked about hunting.

—Shh!! — scolded Harry, — you’re gonna make them see us, Gil!

The blond boy muttered a quick ‘sorry,’ and continued walking, this time avoiding collisions.

— Harry, they’re getting into a warehouse, we should wait out here. — Gil intoned, chocolate eyes shining with fear.

Harry immediately countered and, on the contrary to his friend’s, his blue orbs were  flooded with pride and determination. —No, this is my chance to prove father that I can be a real pirate. If we make it, he will train me.

----

We continue walking through the very same road that we took earlier today (yesterday, as midnight passed a few hours ago). Harry’s arm remains placed around me and mine has now found its way around his middle.

As he speaks, I feel the soft vibrations of Harry’s voice and the alcohol that pleasantly poisoned his breath; — so, we decided to ambush the Huns right there.

— We decided? You manipulated me into going, — Gil points out, giggling.

Harry sighs and grumbles, — Anyway, the point is we went inside and here we are; so, continue talking Gil. Before sunrise, if you can.

----

The two boys literally crossed a door that had no way back. They hid behind a few boxes of what they supposed were ingredients for Dim Sum, and carefully watched as the Hun soldiers opened a chest full of gold that they had stolen from the Jolly Roger.

— There it is, — Harry whispered in awe.

— It’s a lot of gold, — Gil quavered.

Back then, they were convinced that no one was aware of their presence, but a certain pirate lord who had his eyes on the very same prize had seen them from the start.

— Isn’t that Hook’s boy? — asked Anamaria.

—Yup.

She continued to press on the topic, — shouldn’t we take him? He’d be useful against his father; we could get some money out of him.

—Nope.

— And why the hell not, Jack?

The captain sighed, as he adjusted his position on the ceiling bar, — Jim doesn’t pose a threat at the moment and nothing he has seems to be worth it these days, the boy’s useless.

The Huns continued to speak in hushed tones, reason why none of the intruding parties were able to register what was happening.

The kids didn’t even have time to move when they felt the cold metal of swords against the back of their necks. With their hands raised in defeat, they stood up and faced Shan Yu’s soldiers.

—Your father didn’t even have the balls to come here himself?

— Maybe we could send him your fingers? Or maybe even your left hand? That way you’d get matching hooks.

The grown men spoke as they advanced on the two boys, making them head toward the wall of the building. When they had them cornered, both Huns raised their swords and both boys shielded their heads with their arms; but no harm came their way.

Instead, they saw the Huns fighting two other people, whom Harry recognized as members of the enemy pirate crew, the tripulation of the Black Pearl.

— So that’s why you went after the kids —chortled the man. — Your technique is worse than your fashion sense, and that’s saying something.

Both boys giggled at his words.

The man’s combat was sparkled with humor and witty comments, while the woman fought silently and with a stern expression, only groaning every few hits. Both of them had impeccable technique, and they seemed to be dancing in perfect coordination.

After what had seemed to be hours, the Huns ended up dead.

— I can’t believe I agreed to come with you in the first place, — hissed the woman, cleaning her left boot with the end of her puffy white sleeve.

— Come one, don’t tell me it wasn’t fun!

She ignored her companion and approached the boys, who had been contemplating their interaction.

— Hey, — she smiled, — I’m Ana, and that idiot over there is captain Jack Sparrow.

Harry stepped forward, — I’m quartermaster Harry Hook, and this is my friend Gil.

—Quartermaster? Harry, your father doesn’t even let you near the crew.

Harry glared at his friend and decided to explain to the two strangers, — well, I’m not exactly a quartermaster… yet! — he assured. — but I’m gonna be one, when my dad decides to train me.

It was the man’s turn to speak, and his voice came tinted with venom. — You mean Jim sent you here without training? Not even I would do that.

— My dad doesn’t think I have what it takes to be a pirate. I was gonna bring him his treasure back and show him I do have it, but I guess you’re gonna take it, right?

‘Not the puppy eyes, not those; anything but the puppy eyes!’ Jack pleaded to himself, but he ended up looking at the boy and giving in.

He groaned, and then spoke up. — We’ll all go back to the Pearl. There, well split the gold and maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.

— Uma’s gonna love this, — grinned the boys in unison.

----

We arrived at the end of the road, so the three of us sat on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the water.

— So, that’s basically it. — concludes Gil. — Jack taught us everything we know about being pirates. Then, he helped us get the Lost Revenge.

I take a drink, — And, you’re all still pretty close to him. That’s really cool.

Harry chuckles, — well, we kind of owe him everything we are.

I lift my head, which was resting on his shoulder, and glance at him. — That’s not true; he may have trained you, but I’m sure you all have become your own selves.

— Don’ be stupid, lass, he did it because it meant a future a alliance and an advantage, not because he has a teaching vocation.

I sigh, looking for adequate words to phrase what I want to say, — Then you guys owe him what you know about piracy, nothing more.

None of the two pirates said anything.

You know, — Gil sighed, — he’s been there for us more than our own parents. He even saved us from Hook’s crew once, when we were thirteen.

—Still, he did it because we’d signify power for him and not because he cared about us. — Harry takes a long swing of liquor.

I sigh, — Still, I think that, even if he didn’t care at the beginning, he’s fond of you guys now.

Harry’s about to object, but he thinks for a moment and mumbles, — he’s been around for quite a while, even for me sisters.

—I’m just pretty glad that we found him, — Gil hummed, — since I began training with him, my father has been going on about how proud he is that I’m big and strong, and how he hopes that I’ll get myself a nice lady.

— Funny, — Harry says with a tint of grief, — my dad stopped talking to me when the moment I stepped on the Pearl.

Once again, we fall into silence. I fall backwards and look at the cloudy sky, Gil and Harry soon follow and, once again, I find a spot right under the first mate’s arm.

— I’m kind of sleepy, guys.— Gil voices my thoughts, we should head back to the Revenge.

Without complaining, the three of us stand up and walk back to the ship. Instead of heading to their quarters, Harry and Gil lead me to a few hammocks that are placed on deck for those on night guard.

Harry takes off his boots and coat, sitting on one, —‘m sure Uma won’t mind if we use these for tonight.

—Yeah, no big deal, — Yawns Gil.

— Kay.

I’m already beginning to sober up, so sleep is beginning to hit me. Without a second thought, I lay down and wrap myself in my cloak. I drift off to sleep, and my head clears.

It only lasts a few hours, though. I wake up with nausea and my head pounding. Sitting up, decision which immediately regret, I look around for Harry and Gil but turns out I’m alone. I get up and rub my eyes, walking towards Frollo’s creperie, which is a few blocks away from Ursula’s.

I arrive and bark my order, like I’ve seen people do it around here. Then, with a huff, I sit down and quickly glance at my watch.

9:30 am… shit!

Tags: @criticizing-blogger​  @aspitefullittlebeing​  @treestarrrrrrrr​

[nekoannie-chan]

Induced dreams

Pairing: Surprise!

Word count: 1777 words.

Summary: Appearances deceive, Steve and you have come out for a few years, yet on a mission everything could change.

Warnings: A little smut, not very explicit, swearing.

A/N: The text message is in italics and bold.

Flashbacks are in italics.

This is my entry to the @whistlingwillows‘s Hayley’s 1.5K Writing Challenge with the prompt #12:

“I will not die today. The same cannot be said for you”

Also is my entry to the @the--sad--hatter ‘s The Weird & The Wonderful-Challenge with the quote prompt #14:

“One person’s craziness is another person’s reality”

My entry to the @thinkoutsidethebex ‘s Bex’s 600 Follower Writing Challenge with the prompt #3:

“Two heads are better than one”

And my entry to the @waiting4inspiration’s Stay safe, Stay home Writing Challenge with the prompt #19:

“Frankly, my dear. I don’t give a damn”

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog. 

You wake up to feel the sunlight that was already beginning to seep into the room that you shared with Steve, in a few days it would be his third anniversary, then on that day he would ask you to marry, he had already planned everything.

If someone asked Steve how you had met or your love story, he could tell it in great detail, he did not forget anything and he believed that he would not find someone to share his life with until he met you.

"Good morning doll" he greeted you when he realized that you had already woken up.

"Hello," you murmured.

Steve started kissing your shoulder, you smiled.

“I was thinking…”

"About what?" You questioned.

"How much I love you," he replied.

“I love you too.”

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, "he said and he kissed your neck now.

"I feel lucky to have you," you replied.

He continued kissing your shoulder and your neck, he lowered a hand to your thigh to start caressing him, you turned around, put yourself on top of him and caressed his face with one hand, he continued to caress your thighs, you kissed him and they began to caress each other increasing the intensity until the mobile phones rang interrupting the moment.

"Right, a mission," you complained annoyed.

You had less than an hour to reach the base and leave for the mission.

 Everything is ready

 You smiled at the message you had received, you immediately saved your mobile phone, the mission was only for Steve and you, so nothing complicated appeared

"Are you ready?" He asked, standing next to you.

"Always and you, babe?"

"If you're with me, yes."

He kissed you and you got on the ship, you were not going to allow your nerves to take over you, you had to have everything under control as you always had, you couldn't make a single mistake.

As soon as you reached the abandoned base where the mission was, you decided to separate to cover more places and finish the mission more quickly and effectively.

"Y/N, position," Steve asked.

“Coming upstairs and yours?” You asked over the comm.

"I keep checking the first room," he replied.

Suddenly Steve thought he heard a scream, he left where he was and started running towards where you said you were.

“Y/N? Y/N status? Y/N?”

He was worried because he did not receive any response, distressed about what could have happened, he hurried to get to your location immediately, he could not lose you.

As soon as he entered he saw you unconscious and one of the enemies was gagging you.

Right at the moment when he was going to throw his shield, he felt a needle in his back, his body stopped reacting, he couldn't believe it that was not supposed to be possible, and he was supposed to be immune to that kind of thing thanks to serum.

He tried to raise his arm to reach you, he didn't feel it anymore, and he couldn't move, he didn't want to lose you, he needed to do everything possible to avoid being hurt.

Steve in a first attempt wanted to open his eyes without success, he noticed that he was tied to a chair perhaps, he tried harder until he managed to open them, he immediately looked for you, he needed to make sure you were there, you were equally gagged in a chair next to him.

"Doll?" He asked fearfully.

"Stevie ...”

“Are you fine?”

"I think so, I just don't know, I don't understand what happened, I can't get away," you answered confused.

You heard a very heavy door open and footsteps tried to turn around but couldn't, so you waited until the person was in front of you.

"Wow until great Captain America woke up!" Brock exclaimed mockingly.

“Rumlow”

"I thought this would be more difficult, but it was easier than taking candy from a child," said Brock.

He crossed his arms facing you.

"Let her go, she's innocent," Steve asked.

Brock smirked and turned to see you, they looked at each other for a few seconds before you opened your mouth.

"Untie me," you ordered.

Brock approached you, untied you, he gets up, Steve kept his eyes on all the movements, he would do anything to save you, whatever it took, you and Brock saw each other again, you smiled and kissed him.

"What the hell?" Steve asked,

You separated from Brock and you got closer to Steve bending down a little to be at the height of his face

“Y/N, what does this mean?” He asked furiously.

"Oh, Captain America fell in love with me!" You teased.

"And who isn't if you're charming," Brock commented.

“You see Stevie there is something we want to prove because we have a very important mission.”

Steve started struggling to getaway.

"Oh, don't try hard, you won't make it, we made sure to achieve the objective of our mission, it was something simple but slow," he continued.

Steve stopped and stared at you trying to process what he was hearing.

“Our mission? What do you mean?”

“One person’s craziness is another person’s reality.”

You got close to his face, you kissed him on the cheek.

"Hail HYDRA," you whispered in her ear then licked her earlobe.

You separated and went to where Brock was.

“What?”

Steve was stunned, he couldn't believe it, it had all been a lie, he had fallen into the trap and he never suspected a thing.

"You're pathetic, don't worry. HYDRA will take care of everything," Brock said.

Steve felt betrayed, he truly loved you, and he had never expected you to do something as low as that.

"Did you really think I was going to change my ten years’ relationship with Brock by being with you?"

Brock giggled.

"If they gave me this mission, it's because they knew I could complete it perfectly," you said.

"I can't believe it, it was all a lie, and I thought you were a good person, you were always so charming."

"Frankly, my dear. I don’t give a damn”

"As soon as I get out of here, I'm going to kill you," Steve said.

You ignored the threats Steve kept saying, Brock saw you again, you moved away a little to go to the table that was in the place while Rumlow watched him, and you took a syringe containing a green liquid.

“You see Steve we need to study you well, in fact, I took care of it as well as the collection of some samples that would be useful, our scientists analyzed them to create some substances that Erskine's serum could not assimilate, then they will subject you to another procedure, believe me, HYDRA has great plans for you.

"You're not as immune or invincible in the end as they made you think Cap," Brock scoffed.

“Everything that you used to tell me was a lie, wasn't it?” Steve asked, his voice sounding hurt.

"You fell so easily into the story that I was a weak girl and I needed that the great Captain America to protect me," you scoffed.

"You bitch, you are going to pay me, I'm going to kill you," Steve threatened.

“I will not die today. The same cannot be said for you”

“I'm going to get revenge, I'll make you pay Y/N.”

"No, you won't, you won't remember any of this."

"Sure, they sent you because they didn't think Rumlow was enough."

He was going to change his strategy, if he could get Rumlow to get close to him, then he could disarm him and escape, he didn't want to hurt you, he would take you hostage and make you confess everything.

“Two heads are better than one.”

You had considered the possibility, so Brock did not move from his place, you approached Steve and injected the contents of the syringe, Steve twisted, the sensation was worse than when the serum was injected, he felt as if his veins burned in the fire.

"How long will it take to take effect?" Brock asked.

"They told me that in a normal person fifteen minutes, in him five," you replied.

“Did they tell you what effects did you inject?”

"He will remember all the things he feels guilty about all his life as if he were there again, witnessing them."

“Wow, you're the best.”

“I know.”

You kissed him again, he began to caress your back, you knew that as soon as you had time he would give you your reward, now only had to observe the behavior that he began to show since it seemed that the liquid began to take effect.

Steve was sweating as if he had a fever, his breathing began to accelerate, he closed his eyes tightly, in his mind, a cluster of images began to appear, it hurt, and he felt a lot of pain.

 He remembered his dying mother in the hospital, the months before he got sick he had been working longer to buy his medicines and everything he needed if he had not been so weak, if he had not told him that he wanted to go to university She had not had to try harder, it was her fault that she had become ill with tuberculosis and then she died.

He saw Bucky fall from the train again, it was his fault that his best friend, he must have done something more to prevent him from having that fateful fate, he felt that he had betrayed the only person who was there supporting him after losing his mother.

He could see every single face of the people he hadn't been able to save over the years, he should have done something else.

 “How long will it take for our agents to arrive?” You asked Brock.

“Half an hour.”

"If you did what you promised me?" You asked, pretending a sweet voice.

"First we need to make him Captain HYDRA, then as soon as there is a chance we will have the trio that you love so much," he assured you.

"That's why I love you," you said.

"No, you love me because I'm the best," he corrected you.

Both laughed.

“Do you think I should have told him about his best friend?”

"Better find out later, I assure you that by having the two super soldiers on our side, HYDRA will dominate the world."

You sat down to watch the show he was offering as you waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

No mission has ever been so easy before.

[chiclet-go-boom]

point of impact 8: and never

...continuation for poi7:always  more quarantine goodness for @linguini17!

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

If it wasn’t for the presence of the fireplace, she would have called the room a prison cell. Well, that and that the door wasn’t actually a door at all, or even a set of decent bars. Where a barrier would no doubt have hung at some point is now just an empty gap. A scavenged tapestry has been strung up, allowing her some privacy.

Still, sometimes it doesn’t matter what the details are. Prison cell or storage room or awkwardly shaped closet, it’s still much too small.

The room she’s been given is barely three paces from wall to wall, deep in the heart of Suledin Keep with no windows, no ornamentation and comprised entirely of pale gray stone without any redeeming features. She knows she is tall but even still it doesn’t seem right that her hair nearly brushes the ceiling. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and she tells herself over and over again not to hunch. It’s not as if she is magically going to grow three more inches and actually bump her head. But cramped as it is, it does have a small inset alcove that vents to the outside through some miracle of ancient engineering and the fire that has been built there does its work well each night, warming the space to the edge of uncomfortable. The raised stone shelf behind her that runs the length of one wall has no discernable purpose but now at least holds a deeply piled pallet for sleeping. There are no shortage of blankets in the keep at least. If the walls are blank and claustrophobic, well, she has certainly dealt with worse before.

Many times worse, she reminds herself. Still, it does somewhat feel as if she is occupying a mausoleum.

Cassandra is too old to let the comparison bother her, she is long past her girlhood where the Mortalitasi of her youth were frightening figures of power and mystery. And she is pretty sure if she keeps repeating that, eventually she’ll come to believe it. She sighs, sitting on the edge of the makeshift bed. It seems a petty thing to ask for a different room while they are here, recovering from their last… well, adventure is the wrong word, but march isn’t correct either, neither are they precisely advancing anywhere. Recovering from their latest trials, perhaps. That is close enough.

Suledin itself is only recently liberated and while the corps of Inquisition workers that have descended upon it have done themselves proud, there is still much of the place that is fit only for birds and weather. And asking for a room that faces outside when yet another blizzard could blow up out of nowhere would be the height of hubris.

No, it’s better that she remain where assigned. There is a bed and warmth and truly, she needs no more than that. They will only be here a few more days, she is sure. She can handle too-short ceilings for that long without complaint.

Cassandra leans down and starts to root in her pack for her carefully wrapped book, her singular vice. She will read until she is either too tired to make out the words or the fire dies enough to achieve the same end.

There is a odd sound outside in the passageway. It repeats again after a moment and she realises it is a knock, or a close approximation of one as someone taps something metal on the stonework. She frowns, halting her search. “Seeker? Can I come in?” Oh.

Varric. Of course it would be Varric.

Out of nowhere she is pricklingly aware that she is wearing things that she intended to sleep in; her oldest breeches, soft and thin and held to her hips by frayed leather ties. The rough undyed cotton of her shirt falls to her thighs, more than acceptable even if loose laced and wide at her throat. She has worn less in front of company before and thought nothing of it, yet at the mere sound of his voice outside she feels horribly exposed.

She needs a sword and breastplate, neither of which are here. At least her hair is still up and braided. Being caught completely unpinned would have been unconscionable.

“Seeker?”

“Varric,” she replies dryly. She casts around desperately but her mind is blank. She stands, not willing to be sitting for some reason and squares her chin. “Come in.” His hand brushes aside the heavy canvas covering the opening and Varric ducks inside.

His face is not a stranger to her and she should not feel this defensive. Yet, she does. Without willing it, her arms cross over her chest. The rough texture of her shirt rubs against her breasts and she regrets having removed her breastband for comfort. Let him think her annoyed, it is better that than anything else.

“What is it, dwarf?” “What, can’t I come visit my favorite Seeker?” “I am the only Seeker you know, Varric. Why are you here?” He’s been drinking, at least a little. His eyes are just that little bit too bright, his skin just that little bit too flushed. Somewhere along the way she has started to see the small things that belong to him and the things that are imposed from the outside. His voice is deeper than usual and he is already taking up too much room for all that he hasn’t taken but a single step inside. Perhaps he too thought her room would be bigger. She watches the play of muscle move along his jaw as his eyes flicker over the sleeping area. He appears to be finding and discarding things to say and she watches all of them move across his mobile face. Once he would have been unreadable to her and she is uncomfortably aware that somewhere that has changed. Does he see into her better as well? It’s a disturbing feeling.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“With you, yes.” Training keeps her voice and face impassive. For the first time tonight she is grateful for her height, that she towers over him in her bare feet as he stands before her. It is an illusion and they are both aware of it but still, it helps. The fact that the firelight is doing wonderful things to the color of his hair is not something that is worthy of her attention.

“Alright, we’ll just get down to it then. You didn’t tell her Inquisitorialness.” “No. I did not.” His broad face tilts and his voice remains mild. “Mind if I ask why?” Somewhere she knows she had hoped they could simply avoid this conversation. But trust Varric to push when he was least wanted, when she still hasn’t figured out what she intends to do. She opts for a blunt truth.

“You are needed here, now more than before. I am sure that you will not… that it will not happen again, now that you are… aware. Of the potential.” He snorts softly.

“So you didn’t tell her so she wouldn’t send me back.”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrow and then suddenly Varric leans a shoulder against the wall, crossing his own arms. Instead of looking defensive, he just claims space, lounging easily. She frowns at him but he just smiles broader like he knows something she doesn’t. Of all the things he does, she likes that one the least.

“Not good enough, Seeker. I’ll buy that at least halfway but that’s not the only reason.” She throws up her hands in agitation. “What are you looking for, Varric? Did you want me to tell her?”

“It’s not a bad idea. I mean, when your forward scout goes crazy and tries to join the other side of the war, don’t you think that’s something you maybe ought to mention at some point?” “You were not…” she protests hotly before she catches the expression in his eyes, at odds with the rest of his face. She puts a hand on the back of her neck and stares at the too-close ceiling for a long count. “You were not yourself,” she finishes more calmly. “That’s the definition of crazy, Seeker.” “You were… not yourself. The lyrium…” For a heartbeat she feels again the snow sliding under her knees, everything washed red. Blood on his face, on his hands, sparking in his eyes. The terror as she’d realized she was going to lose because it wasn't even a fight. She shoves it down. “You will not make that mistake again.” He’s silent for long enough that her eyes come back to him. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Sure about that?” “Varric?”

“No, Seeker. You’re right, I won’t make that mistake again. If the red stuff is going to get me again, it’s going to be because somebody held me down and shoved it down my throat. I’ll throw Andraste herself on the pyre again before I let it get to me a second time.”

She shifts, suddenly unsure what to make of the tone. “You got too close and you were weakened. I should have protected you better. It is as much my fault as yours.” He laughs at that and shoves himself away from the wall without warning. “Protect me? Excuse me, Seeker, but didn’t we already figure out that I’m stronger than you?” He takes an aggressive step forward and she can’t help it, can’t help it at all, stepping back to keep the distance between them. The back of her knees bump against the bed she’d half forgotten about and she sits abruptly.

She glares at him, flustered. The expression on his face has twisted, something knowing curling the corner of his mouth in a way she cannot stand.

“Do not look like that,” she says coldly. “You’re afraid of me now.” “I am not.” “You are. You won’t let me anywhere near you.” “I am not afraid of you, Varric. There are many people who are stronger than I am, it is not a contest.” “And how many of those people have nearly broken your arm just by grabbing you?”

He takes another deliberate step forward. The room is much, much too small to have him in it, the bulk of his body half cutting off the light from the fire now. He’s outlined in light, bright and gold and red, the color of corrupted lyrium but also his color, always how she thinks of him. Red for passion, for anger, for blood; red for everything worth having. She would stand again if she could but she can’t and maybe it wouldn’t help anyways.

But she still puts a hand up to ward him off. She misjudges and her fingertips brush his chest, bump against the gold chain at his throat.

He stops then, still as stone. She watches his throat move and there is no way she can interpret the expression on his face, hooded and dark.

“Okay, so you’re not afraid.”  His voice is rough gravel. “Show me your arm, Seeker.”

“What?” He’s patient as if understanding her confusion, his voice gentling. “Show me your arm.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to, Seeker. Shit, I don’t understand myself half the time but I need you... I need you to show me what I did. I have to see.”

Is she afraid of him? She doesn’t know. Something has changed between them, yes, and it keeps changing and she is no longer sure of what she should do, what she should say. It was not his fault, not truly. And yet, it was.

But this is Varric here, now and if she has no hope of understanding anything else, she understands the pain in his eyes. If she is afraid, she will not let it rule her.

Cassandra watches herself press her palm against his chest with deliberate pressure, the warmth of his skin beating under her fingers. He is wonderful to the touch and she stands, suddenly calm. Varric takes a step back at that and the room expands just a little bit so that it’s easier to breathe.

“Very well.”

She could just remove her shirt and for a heartbeat, she actually considers it. The possibilities suddenly curling through the air like smoke are confusing and she wonders what he would do if she was so bold. Anything at all? Would he want to put his hand on her too? She reaches instead for the laces at her throat, widening the gap of the collar. Her night shirt is meant for comfort and it is simple enough slip her shoulder through the newly created space, sliding the loosened material down to her elbow. She pulls her arm free of the sleeve with effort, wincing at the strain on the healing flesh.

“Maker’s balls.”

Varric has stopped breathing. She doesn’t need to look herself to know what he’s seeing. The yellow fingers touch as high as her collarbone now, pool in the cup of her shoulder, sweetly outlined in blue as if painstakingly painted. Her bicep is still a weltered glory of darker color where the pressure had been longest and deepest.

The dwarf shifts on his feet, gaze locked in sudden agony. “Shit. I knew... Maker lose me on the Deep Roads. I knew when I saw you struggling with your shield.” “I have had worse in training.”

He reaches out with such a blank look on his face that she knows he’s barely aware of anything else.

“The hell you have.”

His hand wraps slowly around her arm, gentle as anything she has ever felt. She knows he’s matching himself precisely, fingertip by fingertip. She can feel it, hot little points of contact. “Varric.” He won’t look at her. “Varric,” she insists. “I have had worse in training. I would not lie.” “Fine, if you say so. But I bet nobody’s tried to feed you to red lyrium before while doing it. That was all me.” “Stop wallowing, dwarf.” She pitches her voice curt and sharp.

Varric growls at that, curling his lip, and something in it catches the breath in her throat. She makes an involuntary sound and his eyes fly to her face.

“You did that then, too,” she babbles. “Growled. It was frightening.” “So you are afraid.” “Yes. I mean, no. Varric, no. I am not afraid of… Maker, this is impossible. You snarled at me, at the last, just like that, when I tried to pull you away. There was nothing in your eyes that I knew anymore and you growled at me and yes, I could not break away and yes, I was frightened. Anyone would have been. But then you just... stopped. And you were... you again.”

She is sure he won’t answer the unspoken question. She can see it closing over his face, the shrug he will give, the words he will say that might, in some manner, even be true but will not be truth. She braces for it.

He hesitates though. Then his hand reaches up and he strokes her damaged arm, shoulder to wrist in a slow, unmistakable caress.

“You were crying.” “I… what?” “You were crying, Seeker.”

“I was crying.” “Real tears, Seeker, honest and truly. And you know what I was thinking? If you can even call it thought?” She shakes her head. His fingers encircle her wrist in a loose grip, nearly holding her hand. His hand is warm and it spreads through her body. “That if I could only get you to hear it like I could hear it, you wouldn’t be afraid anymore. I didn’t want you to be afraid.  I just wanted you to be with me. Hear it with me. But you were crying and I just… you were crying because I was hurting you and I just. I just...”

Varric’s face spasms and he turns so that all she can see for a moment is his profile. His gaze drops and she is left to stare at the top of his head even as he turns her palm up. She feels his thumb moving slow across the sensitive flesh of her wrist. She has no memory if he’s ever touched her like this before, it feels so achingly fragile.

“You were crying, that’s all.”

She sits down because she really doesn’t think she can stand anymore.

He shrugs then and when his face lifts, his expression is mocking as it often is, a smile hovering over his lips. “I’ve done a lot of really shitty things in my life, Seeker, but hurting you because I have poor impulse control? Pretty much tops the list.” “You broke out of lyrium thrall because I cried.” It seems unbelievable. “Yeah, well. If you tell the Herald, which you should, let’s leave that part out, okay? It can be our little secret.” His lips move into a larger smile and she can see the story settling over his face, his body starting to shift away. “Give me a bit and I’ll think of something better.” “Varric.”

“Yes, Seeker?” She takes a deep breath. “I did not tell the Inquisitor because she would have sent you back to Skyhold. For your own good.” “You said that.” “She would have sent you away. I didn’t… I don’t want that. It is selfish, I know, do not think I am not aware of it, but I would worry if you were not… if you were not here. I promise, Varric, I will protect you better, now that I am aware of how strongly it calls to you.”

It’s nothing more than the truth but for some reason it’s impossible to look at him directly. She keeps her gaze on his necklace instead. His fingers are still light on her wrist and she wonders if he even realises he’s still holding her there. She doesn’t want to point it out in case he stops. She watches him swallow and when he speaks, his voice is slow. “So. You’re saying you want me with you too.” She opens her mouth to disagree, it’s not like he is implying. It’s simply important that she not fail in her duty, not now when she knows how vulnerable he is. Anything could happen if she can’t watch over him. He would spend all his time in the tavern, drinking and blaming himself and that would not be right. It really is as much her fault as anything. She should have known, reacted better and faster. “Don’t, Seeker.” He hasn’t moved but somehow the space between them has closed, she’s not sure how. She is conscious of the breadth of his shoulders, the warmth of his skin radiating so close to hers. His hand moves finally, stroking back up her exposed arm, a tickle of fingertips alone. She shivers and cannot disguise it. “I’ll tell you another secret though, just for you and me.” “What?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounds wrong, too thin, too light.

“I didn’t want you to be afraid. But mostly? I wanted you with me. I wasn’t going anywhere without you. Not even into madness apparently.” His hand curls over the top of her shoulder, warm and strong. His fingers slide over bare skin to the back of her neck, tangling in the short curls there and at that she has to look up. His face is so close to hers. “Messed up, I know.” “Varric.” “That’s my name.” The smile is deprecating but his eyes are somewhere else and she knows somewhere that once upon a time she would have heard the words and seen nothing else.

“Why do you never call me by mine?”

He shakes his head then. “No. No, that’s still my secret.” His thumb traces the soft skin under her ear and for one heart stopping moment, she wonders if he’s going to kiss her. What she will do about it. If she will do anything at all. Does she want him to? His fingers are paralyzing, that’s all she knows.

“That is unfair, dwarf.”

“Life’s like that.” She feels more than sees the deep tremor that runs through his body and then his hand smoothly drops away, breaking contact. She takes a deep breath, then another, unsure of when she’d stopped. “Tell the Inquisitor, Seeker. I want to finish this as much as you do, but sometimes it really doesn’t matter what I want."

He’s ducked out the not-exactly-a-door before she can think to ask what she’s supposed to tell, exactly, and what precisely it is that he wants to finish.

[miumiu-chan]

Miyase Go STORY 1 Chapter 4-4

Subbed video: STORY-1 4-4

-Investigation Planning Division-

[AOYAMA]: “Spontaneous pneumothorax?”

[REI]: “Yes. From what I saw today, I suspect that is Kujo Soma’s illness.”

[REI]: “Of course I’m not a doctor, so I’m not sure.”

[SEKI]: “I see......”

[NATSUME]: “Pneumothorax is the one called “Ikemen’s disease”*, isn’t it.” (T/N: Like how it’s a disease seen often among handsome men. Often develops among lean and tall young men, and among more men than women.)

[AOYAMA]: “The cause of the onset does seem to be unknown, and it recurs many times?”

[REI]: “Yes......”

[NATSUME]: “If you drop such a bomb, at least it’s unlikely that Kujo Soma will be crazy with drugs.”

[SEKI]: “What is Izumi’s opinion in that area?”

[REI]: “I’ve been observing every day, but I think it’s not possible he’s involved in the use of dangerous drugs.”

[REI]: “That applies to all the members who go in and out of that house.”

[AOYAMA]: “What other information did you get?”

[REI]: “......I checked Miyase Go’s mobile phone.”

[NATSUME]: “Eh, that’s amazing.”

[REI]: “......No. I didn’t get anything.”

[AOYAMA]: “Does that mean there’s zero harvest?”

[REI]: “There was no address book, no incoming calls history, no outgoing calls history.”

[REI]: “No internet browsing history or messaging apps.”

[NATSUME]: “Did he erase it all before lending it to Rei-chan?”

[REI]: “I don’t think he could’ve afforded to do that in that situation......”

[AOYAMA]: “How did you call the doctor?”

[REI]: “Miyase-san handed it to me after making the call......”

[SEKI]: “It could be that they try not to leave any information on the terminal on a daily basis.”

[AOYAMA]: “Or does he have another personal mobile phone?”

[NATSUME]: “Either way, it’s a mystery~. The Kujo Family’s servant.”

[REI]: “......I’m sorry.”

[REI]: “I haven’t gotten any useful information for the investigation.”

[AOYAMA]: “It’s understandable, so don’t feel down.”

[AOYAMA]: “You’re doing a good job.”

[SEKI]: “Yeah. A lot of things happened today so you must be tired.”

[SEKI]: “Go on home and take a good rest.”

[REI]: “......Okay. Thank you. Thank you for your hard work.”

-Temporary Apartment-

[REI]: (......I can’t sleep.)

So many thoughts were circling around in my head.

[REI]: (Around this time, I wonder if Miyase-san is taking care of Kujo Soma......)

[REI]: (......Is Kujo Soma really involved with the flower drugs?)

If, he happened to be innocent.

If I could hurry and prove it————

[REI]: (............Then, I could build a more sincere relationship with Miyase-san.)

[REI]: “............Huh?”

I suddenly sat up in the bed.

[REI]: (I, what did I think just now......?)

[REI]: (Even though I’m a DCD agent who infiltrated the Kujo Family.)

[REI]: (Somehow, wasn’t my thinking deviating in a bad direction?)

[REI]: “......Get it together, me. Because it’s all work.”

-Kujo House / Garden-

[REI]: (I couldn’t sleep at all......)

[MIYASE]: “Rei-san, have you finished watering the designated area?”

[REI]: “Yes. I just put away the hose.”

[MIYASE]: “Thank you.”

[MIYASE]: “As expected, you’ve really helped the work go faster.”

[REI]: (Miyase-san is the same as usual.)

[REI]: (Kujo-san doesn’t seem to be up yet......)

[MIYASE]: “Then, is it alright if you help me prepare the lunch next?”

[REI]: (......Huh?)

[MIYASE]: “......Rei-san?”

[REI]: (——No. He’s not the same......as usual?)

[REI]: “Isn’t Miyase-san kind of different from usual?”

[MIYASE]: “Eh? Do I have bed hair?”

[REI]: “That’s not it......”

[REI]: “............”

[MIYASE]: “......If you stare at me too much, I’ll feel shy.”

[REI]: “Ah, sorry......”

[REI]: “Um, this might be intrusive of me, but......”

[REI]: “I wonder if your complexion is not so good......”

[MIYASE]: “Aa. Maybe it is because of lack of sleep.”

[REI]: “Did you take care of Kujo-san without going to sleep until morning?”

[MIYASE]: “Since it is the servant’s job, that is natural.”

[REI]: “Um......If it’s tough, you can just give me instructions and I’ll cook lunch.”

[REI]: “Miyase-san, please go ahead and rest.”

[MIYASE]: “No, I cannot put that much of a burden on Rei-san.”

[REI]: (Even though Miyase-san......right now, is looking really burdened?)

[MIYASE]: “I am the type of person who is relatively okay without much sleep, so I am fine.”

[MIYASE]: “Now, let’s go to the kitchen.”

My gaze dropped down, catching a glimpse of Miyase-san’s right arm as he walked away.

......The color of the bruise that had no traces of treatment, I felt it was a little darker than yesterday.

-Kujo House / Kitchen-

[MIYASE]: “——Ah. Oops.”

[REI]: “What happened……?”

[MIYASE]: “I was thinking of boiling the nanohana today to make it into a soup……”

[MIYASE]: “But I took the miso by mistake.”

[REI]: (That’s unusual……)

[REI]: (He usually doesn’t make a mistake like that.)

[REI]: “Even with miso soup, it’ll be delicious.”

[MIYASE]: “……You’re right.”

[MIYASE]: “But, this is an embarrassing blunder. Please keep it a secret, okay?”

[REI]: (As I thought, his smile looks like he’s tired.)

[MIYASE]: “——Huh? Rei-san, those carrots are……”

[REI]: “?”

[REI]: “Miyase-san gave them to me to peel earlier……”

[MIYASE]: “……I had intended to give you the cabbage.”

[REI]: “Eh.”

[REI]: (What do cabbages and carrots have in common…………Vegetables.)

[MIYASE]: “Haha. Sorry.”

[MIYASE]: “This too, please keep it a secret from everyone.”

[REI]: (Is this okay……)

-Kujo House / Dining Table

[KIRISHIMA]: “Oh, this miso soup is super tasty.”

[SHINDO]: “Yeah. It has good dashi* in it.” (T/N: Dashi is a Japanese soup stock.)

[MIYASE]: “I am glad it suits your tastes.”

[REI]: (It really is delicious.)

[REI]: (No matter what Miyase-san cooks, all of them have a gentle taste.)

[KIRISHIMA]: “By the way, how’s Kujo-san doing?”

[KIRISHIMA]: “He still can’t get up yet?”

[SHINDO]: “The pain seems to have lessened a lot.”

[SHINDO]: “If he rests for a few more days, he’ll be fine.”

[KIRISHIMA]: “I see. That’s great.”

[REI]: (Does Kirishima-san know in detail about Kujo-san’s illness……?)

[MIYASE]: “…………”

[REI]: (Hm? Miyase-san hasn’t eaten at all……)

[REI]: “Um, what’s the matter?”

[MIYASE]: “——Eh?”

[REI]: “You haven’t made a dent in your food……”

[MIYASE]: “Aa, I am fine.”

[MIYASE]: “I was just thinking a bit.”

[SHINDO]: “What, is Miyase perhaps in poor health as well?”

[KIRISHIMA]: “Seriously? He looks the same as always, though.”

[MIYASE]: “I was just wondering what to do for the dinner menu.”

[SHINDO]: “……You’re already thinking about the night while having lunch.”

[KIRISHIMA]: “I want to eat meat!”

[KIRISHIMA]: “Cow! Pig! And bird!”

[MIYASE]: “Meat sounds good.”

[REI]: “…………”

——After work.

-Kujo House / Living Room-

[MIYASE]: “Well then Rei-san, shall we go?”

[REI]: “Sorry……”

[REI]: “Even though Miyase-san is tired, you’re sending me home again today.”

[MIYASE]: “It is fine, really.”

[MIYASE]: “The night walks with Rei-san are a healing time for me.”

[REI]: (Healing……?)

Choices:

Sorry to bother you.

I’m happy. (♡)

He is considerate…...

[REI]: “That kind of……makes me happy.”

[REI]: “Of course, I know that you’re just being considerate of me.”

[MIYASE]: “Eh……Those are my true feelings, though?”

[REI]: “It’s okay, you don’t have to flatter me.”

[REI]: “Even though I was told that it was healing being with me for the first time,”

[REI]: “But, I think I’m quick to speak and pretty continuously interrupt conversations, so I realize I am not cute.”

[REI]: “So I feel like I’m far from the word “healing”. Ahaha.”

[MIYASE]: “For me, Rei-san is healing.”

[MIYASE]: “When we’re together, I can relax.”

[REI]: “Relax……”

[MIYASE]: “This kind of thing, I believe they say that the wavelengths match.”

[MIYASE]: “Watching the cat and the birds in the garden, quizzing on the name of flowers, cooking in the kitchen side-by-side.”

[MIYASE]: “In those moments, I realize that I am laughing naturally.”

[MIYASE]: “Rei-san’s atmosphere to me, I think matches very well.”

That……I also thought the same.

[REI]: (When I’m with Miyase-san, the tension in my heart releases, and I get a soft feeling.)

……That was why it was getting harder and harder to lie.

[REI]: “……Thank you.”

[MIYASE]: “Thank you as well.”

[MIYASE]: “Let’s leisurely enjoy the brief time of healing.”

Miyase-san’s body, who tried to walk, aimlessly tilted over.

[REI]: “!”

[journeysintowebcomics]

Girl Genius Liveblog #200

UPDATE 200: Monster Train

Last time Tweedle and Agatha had an encounter, and Tweedle says he’d willingly help Agatha get to Paris. Agatha doesn’t get much time to ponder why Tweedle would offer this, because there are urgent matters at hand. Namely the crazy train trying to eat everything. So let’s deal with that.

Apparently Tweedle’s first move is to manhandle Agatha.

I imagine knowing he had made the whole chemical thing happen is like half of the reason she immediately went for the knee to the groin strategy instead of just pushing him away or something. The other half must be the rather obvious ‘geez, Tweedle, don’t be a creep, don’t grab anyone like that’. Luckily for him, he can still make himself useful even while he’s presumably rolling around in pain. He can contribute theories and ideas.

Because that’s what’s going on right now, they’re actually thinking of some potential ideas to trap the train and force it to stop. Magnetic fields! Given the train is, you know, a mobile chunk of steel and other magnetic materials, immobilizing it with magnetism is a good idea. That has to be easier said than done, I bet they will need some potent magnets and I don’t think there are a lot of those around here.

Looks like the preparations are done offscreen and some time passed, because the very next page is them getting lifted towards the yards, weapons in hand. Maybe they did have very potent magnets here! Okay then! It’s going to be dangerous, though, there’s molten metal raining on them, and that can’t be good at all. I wonder if that’s some sort of weapon the train has, or if the monks trying to keep it under control are using molten metal to do it.

Agatha has different plans, apparently.

Well, her track record so far is decent. I’m not certain it will work, but it’s worth a try, if only because it’s her family’s horrible train and therefore maybe she’ll have a measure of control over it. Still, if it’s anything like what happened with the Castle, it’s going to be very complicated and will require some sort of test. I doubt everyone else will just stand around while such thing is done, so a test will go badly, and they’ll have to fight the Beast.

I wonder if I got any of that right. Won’t lie, I’ll be disappointed if I managed to guess what will happen!

The plot is stopped by a rather adorable image.

I love this, I absolutely love this. I really missed Girl Genius during the time I was busy and writing a Worm update every moment I got a bit of free time. I’m excited to be reading this story again, seriously!

Speaking of fun images, what comes next is the first glimpse to the evil train in its entirety. Bask your eyes in this!

Look at that! Pretty cool, eh? I really like this train. And wow, it definitely looks like something the Heterodynes would make. This is great! This is the last page of the volume, I think, so that’s one volume more finished! Like six more are left.

I wonder how many volumes will be needed for this storyline. The last one filled several volumes, so there’s a possibility this one will as well. The earlier storylines covered like two or three volumes, but that was so long ago and the storylines have gotten so filled with stuff and details I don’t think the Foglios will manage to cram everything in two or three volumes. Part of me is kind of expecting all the volumes that are left to be about the train in some manner, really.

Well, if it’s not due to length, it will be due to intermissions. Since the volume is over it’s high time for some extra stuff! Such as paper dolls. I wonder how popular the paper dolls are? They must be decently popular, if more are made every once in a while!

It seems these are a reward for a Patreon goal, and they will be all about the Cinderella interlude from ages ago. Ah, I still remember that faintly. Fun times, those were. One day I should reread it, just for fun.

I see all the outfits I remember are here. The tattered clothing when inventing, the rather yellow dress that had like eleven clocks on it...yup, they definitely are aiming to bring back ever outfit from back then. I don’t think there was any other.

Ahaha, there’s that thing! The wind-up moon! I love that thing. Anyway, there’s Gil and Tarvek, both of them with their gaudy golden costumes and crowns, as well as small references to some moments of that interlude. Zeetha is in the page that comes next. Fairy ensemble, and also this:

‘Does thou even lift?’ Okay then! She certainly does, I say.

There are the three ugly stepsisters – or more like the two ugly ones and the one that wasn’t so ugly, because that one was the only one to get decent clothing and also a ridiculous hat. Kind of disappointingly, those are the only new elements for Da Boyz. Oh well.

Also, I’m convinced the costuming department ran out of money when it was time to give Oggie a wig. I didn’t remember that was a mop, haha.

...I have so many question, Foglios. What’s up with this. While part of me is tempted to crank up the Photoshop and overlay this over the Krosp paper doll, I won’t bow down to my curiosity.

I surrendered to my curiosity and I have banished the results from my sight. I feel both puzzled and oddly pleased. But really, what was up with that, Foglios, haha

Niiice. I think it’s no secret I like hats, so I’m enjoying what I’m seeing here, hah! Excellent.

That was the end of the paper doll intermission. Back to the story. That was a fun one!

As Agatha proclaimed he would do, he tries to talk to the train, immediately informing she’s the Heterodyne and that she wants to know what the train wants. Well I sure can imagine what the train wants. I mean, it’s a Heterodyne creation, so I’m pretty sure it will involve the widespread destruction of something. Given it’s a vehicle that can go wherever it pleases, said destruction will certainly be widespread. I don’t think the train believes her, anyway.

While Agatha talks, it seems to me the rest of the group is getting ready for the catch-the-train-with-magnetism plan for when/if Agatha’s conversation attempt fails. Given how the train thinks her question was colossally stupid, the odds of this ending without a fight are almost zero. At least it answers what it wants, and given it’s a train, the answer is more or less what you expect, I suppose.

Also there’s the widespread destruction. Of course it is.

Not only it wants to consume everything in its path, it hates what the monks would like it to do if they had their way: stops every once in a while, follow the rails, don’t consume everything. This train was made to go against everything the monks want. Truly, this is a Heterodyne creation.

I mean, the other trains don’t have sentience or will of any kind. Makes me wonder if they would reject the monks too, if they did. At least one can take solace in the knowledge they won’t ever dare to do such a thing because the Beast is a tremendous cautionary tale on why not to do it!

Discussion over, time to trap it. The monks use their rods and turn on the magnetic field, trapping the train. That went smoothly! More than I expected, at least. While it’s in disbelief about this, Agatha tells it it can’t go around destroying and eating everything in its path. While that’s true, the Beast begs to differ, and decides to show just how useful eating everything is. Well! That sounds dangerous! And something for next time, given how likely it is this will lead to further developments. I shall stop for now!

Next time: in four updates

[imagine-loki]

The Sound of Silence

TITLE: The Sound of Silence CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 39/47 AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are mute, and Loki comes to Avengers tower for the first time. Loki asks you a question and you answer through sign language. Loki looks at you crazy and thinks your making fun of him, he starts yelling saying that you should respect him since he’s a god and prince.  RATING: T+ NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 Click here

     Your words, your tone must have registered. You saw Loki whip his head up to look at you and finally recognized the tears in your eyes. You gave him a small smile as you took one step back, then another.

    [Forgive me] you signed, knowing that he wouldn’t for a long time, if ever.

    You heard his muffled yells behind the duct tape. Duct tape was not the most effective gag ever, but it was all you could steal quickly, so it had to do in a pinch. The tears spilled from your eyes before you made it to the door.

    “I love you,” you whispered again. Really for the last time this time. You couldn’t help it. It was the last opportunity after all.

    You slipped out of the room before his heartbreak could stop you, before you could go to him and spill your soul and let him stop you. He would definitely try to stop you. You closed the door behind you and smirked at the little sign on the door:

    Angry Loki inside. Do not enter.

    You wiped the tears from your eyes roughly. Fury was waiting for you and wisely didn’t comment besides an “Are you sure?” You nodded firmly. You walked with him to the medical bay just down the hall.

    You tapped Fury’s arm to get his attention. [Tell him? After it’s done?]

    He glared at you, but softened when he remembered all of the many reasons you were doing this, including preventing a war between Earth and Asgard. “I’ll see what I can do, but you may have to do it yourself. Boyfriend isn’t exactly the most pleasant when you have him this riled.” You pointed to your wedding ring.

    [Husband] you corrected firmly, though the tears were back in your eyes. Would Loki actually want to stay with you after this? Much less be your husband? He hadn’t really agreed to it in the first place after all. Was divorce even a thing on Asgard or was he just going to kill you and be done with it?

    “You’re going to have to tell me what the hell happened on Asgard after we finish saving the world,” Fury told you firmly.

    [I’m Asgardian now] you warned him. He cursed at that sudden revelation.

    You nodded and stepped into the med room with him. There was an entire crew of surgeons and nurses waiting for you, all scrubbed in and ready for this. “Time for Plan Z everyone, you’ve prepared for this. It’s changed slightly. Y/N is Asgardian now. Don’t ask, we don’t have time for it. Drug her like you would Thor and she’ll heal just as fast. She doesn’t need or want to know what the details on what the procedure entails, which is better for all of our safety. Whatever you do, don’t fuck it up. She’s a member of the Avengers Initiative and potentially more importantly Loki’s wife.” There were gasps at that. Everyone knew you were dating Loki and what he’d done to get you back from Hydra, but no one besides Fury had known you were married. And he only knew as of about thirty seconds ago. “You know damn well that he will kill every single person on this boat if this procedure does not go as planned. This is the most VIP patient you will ever have. Loki is also on board and…. antsy as hell,” Fury warned them all, though that was the understatement of the century. He may have also been overstating how much Loki cared about you right this moment. “So do this quickly and don’t fuck it up,”

    “No pressure,” one of the nurses muttered. No one even looked at her. That was safer since Fury looked about ready to kill her.

    Fury gave you one final look. “You’re absolutely sure this is the only way?” he asked. You nodded. “Then go before that husband of yours gets even more antsy.” You nodded again and let the nurses lead you behind a screen to change into hospital clothes, which was thankfully something resembling scrubs instead of one of those godawful backless gowns.

    You were settled on the table, there was one final confirmation, the anesthesia mask was placed over your nose and mouth to knock you out quickly, then the procedure began.

    *

    You don’t know how long you were out, and you felt like shit when Fury was desperately shaking you awake. “C’mon kid, knock that anesthesia off quickly. Loki and the team are all in a right state. I can’t keep the Avengers from finding you much longer.” You blinked stupidly and managed to sit up.

    [It’s done?] you asked, your hands numbly slow.

    “Yes, it’s done. Are you awake? I know it’s bad to rush coming out of that medical crap, but we need you up. Now.” You nodded and reached up to your throat. It hurt like hell. Which was to be expected. “We couldn’t get to Loki to tell him what you did, so you’re going to have to do it yourself. Can you stand?” Fury asked, looking actually concerned, not for you, but for whatever Loki would do to all of the agents and his ship if he wasn’t calmed soon. He didn’t trust Stark’s restraints to hold Loki forever. You nodded and swung your legs over the side of the bed. Fury helped you get to your feet and made sure you stayed there. You shook the last of the sleep and weakness from your brain. You were going to need your wits and every ounce of luck you had to deal with Loki if he had Fury this unnerved. “Thank God you’re Asgardian now or you’d never be up and mobile this fast.” You still weren’t sure you were up and mobile. You were pretty out of it and fighting to stay on this side of conscious. It was too soon for you to be moved and it hurt like hell, but there was a job to do.

    Fury led you back to the room where Loki was waiting as fast as possible. You could feel Loki’s rage from out here. You touched Fury’s shoulder reassuringly. He didn’t have to come in with you. He looked relieved that he didn’t have to try to help with this. Dealing with an angry Loki was well above his paygrade, especially when you were around. You stepped inside to face Loki’s wrath alone. He was still bound and gagged. Fury was right, no one had been able to get near him, or they hadn’t braved it. Cowards.

    You rushed over to him to free him, disregarding his rage. You expected it and knew it was mostly aimed at you. And still you moved without fear, trusting that even in his rage, he wouldn’t kill you without at least an explanation, not with all you had been through together. You moved too fast in your rush to free him and the world was turning black. You weren’t as awake or free of the meds as you had pretended for Fury. You worked quickly to undo the bonds on Loki’s wrists.

    He used magic to remove the duct tape, which was way faster and easier than ripping it off manually. He was on his feet, glaring down at where you were still kneeling next to the chair he’d been sitting in. You’d had to kneel to reach the manacles. Now you weren’t sure you could get back up. You had to try, you couldn’t face him on your knees. Especially not in your current state. “What did you do?!” Loki raged. “You tricked me and lied to me. Tell me. What. Did. You. Do?!!” he roared. You struggled to your feet to face him, using the chair to leverage yourself to your feet.

    And promptly fell into a dead faint.

    That was not how this conversation was supposed to go.

    *

    When you came to again, you found that you were tucked safely in the bed in the same small room. Loki was sitting on the edge of it. The chair was no more than a twisted pile of metal. Loki looked over at you when you sat up. He was still angry, beyond angry, but an ever so slight amount of his rage seemed to have dissipated.

    “That was one way to postpone getting yelled at,” he told you dryly. “Kindly don’t do it again,” his words were dry, but his tone gave you a glimmer of hope. Just a glimmer. He wasn’t raging. That was a good sign. But only slightly. It was going to take a lot to win his trust back. If you even could.

    [I’m sorry] you signed sheepishly. You hadn’t meant to pass out. [Fury moved me too soon so I could get back to you]. He nodded, accepting that piece, however grudgingly.

    “You owe me an explanation, Lady,” Loki told you, his voice icy and too formal. At least he wasn’t yelling. Or breaking things. Or killing you. Yet.

    You nodded. [I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry for the trick] you told him quickly. He gave you a look.

    “I don’t want apologies. I want an explanation,” he growled. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him even more pissed at you, but there was no choice. You signed slowly, making sure that he could keep up with your words. It was important and your computer wasn’t here to make sure your words were clear. You couldn’t ask Loki to summon it either he was too angry to appease you, so you had to rely on signing.

    [It was the only way. Odin won’t follow us, because we no longer have what he wants] Loki raised an eyebrow and looked ready to question you, but you pressed on. [Fury had a back-up plan, Plan Z, a last resort in case my powers were truly out of control. He never intended to use it, trusting that the Avengers would help me learn to use them properly. I made him use it. I’m sorry I had to trick you, but you would never go along with it if you knew what I was doing…]

    “Lady,” he growled. “What. Did. You. Do?” he demanded again.

    You sighed, looked down at your lap, then bravely up at the hurt and pain in his eyes. You had to tell him. You had to tell him what you did. Slowly, carefully and as clearly as you could, you signed out what you had been dreading telling him.

    [I gave up my powers. I gave up my voice. Forever]

[squidgytoebeans]

The Telstra Saga Continues.

If you’ve been following me long enough, you’ll probably know all about the issues hubby and I have been having with Telstra, one of the largest telecommunications providers here in Australia.

Buckle up folks, it’s gonna be a long one...

If you already know the backstory you can skip to the section after the sentence “So here’s where the new nonsense starts” for the new gory details.

We were without internet for almost three months when we first moved here because the previous tenant had no cancelled her account after she moved out. Then, even though we had documented proof that we live here now, when they rang her to ask if they could disconnect the line, she said she still lived here... because she didn’t wanna pay the $178 bill. For three months this woman held out phone/internet line hostage and Telstra, who own the line, said they couldn’t do anything about it. Anyway, ancient history, that problem was solved eventually when she finally gave them a date of when she was “going to move out”.

Then for over 12 months after that we battled with them over a slow connection that they kept telling us was “fine on their end” and refusing to send a technician out. Then when they finally caved and sent someone out that man was incredibly rude and sexist towards me (rolling his eyes at my husband every time I spoke even though I have a Diploma in IT and know more about these kinds of things than my husband) and didn’t touch a single thing when he was here. All he did was reiterated the default stance of “Everything looks fine on our end, there’s nothing I can do”.

In the end we made a complaint to the Telecommunications Industry Ombudsman (which costs Telstra $3000 every time someone makes a complaint regardless of what said complain is) and they managed to force Telstra to send out another technician... who called 10 minutes before he was supposed to be here and said, and I quote, “Everything looks fine on our end, I don’t see any reason to come there. Besides, I have a corporate client that I have to deal with today and the big guys are more important, you know?”.

So I rang our case handler at the TIO and they told them if they didn’t get a technician out here asap, the fines would get bigger and they’d be in a lot more trouble. The next day a technician actually showed up (this one was surprisingly really nice!) and it took him literally two minutes to find the problem. All he did was poke the modem once, the internet cut out, and he didn’t need to do anything else to figure it out. Literally all he had to do was touch the modem with the tip of his finger. 12 months. OVER 12 months, and not a single person bothered to think “maybe the modem is faulty”. He replaced the modem on the spot, and the cables just in case, and problem solved.

Telstra also refused to compensate us in any way for the 12+ months of pathetic internet service (we literally couldn’t even load Gmail at all) and disgusting customer service, so that was cool too, but whatever the problem was solved and that’s really all I wanted.

So here’s where the new nonsense starts.

Cut to about 6 months later with no problems and it’s time for hubby and I to get new mobile phones; our contracts are almost up and they sent us a message saying we could take advantage of their new swap and go lease where all we have to do is give our old phones back and we get brand new ones for $0. So we decided to head down to the local Telstra shop to get ourselves a couple of brand new Samsung S9s, because why not.

During the process I decided to go for the S9 Edge (hubby got the standard S9). I was little bit hesitant about it because it was an extra $20 a month and our bill with them was already quite big with our landline (which we never use but we have to have to get internet), internet and cable all being bundled through them. However, after looking at our account, the sales assistant (if I could remember his name I would 100% put him on blast right now but I can’t) looked through out account and said “I see you guys don’t use your landline at all, why don’t I drop that down to the $79 plan from $95 and you can make up the extra that way?”.

Now, pay attention because this is key the part right here.

Because we’ve had so many problems with Telstra in the past, I said to him “Will that affect anything else in the bundle?” and his reply was, and again I quote, “Nope, it’ll just drop your landline bundle so that you don’t have as much calls available each month but you never use it so that should be fine.” Alright, cool, we changed everything over and went on our way, happy with our new phones.

Oh how naive we were.

The next month when the bill arrives... it’s almost twice would it should be! We were expecting a large bill because hubby’s phone screen was cracked and they had to charge us for that, but not THAT big a bill! But, we weren’t able to access the bill online for some reason so we ended up having to ring them to find out wtf was going on.

Turns out sales douche didn’t change our landline plan, no no, he added it on top of the already existing one! So they were trying to not only charge us for the old $99 plan, but the new $79 one too, as though we had two landlines in the house! It was also during this phone call that we found out that, contrary to what sales douche told us, our internet HAD been affect by the change in plan; it went from unlimited data usage to 1500gb a month. That may not seem like a big deal, and it’s not really because we never even use that much, but when someone tells you a change isn’t going to affect anything; you believe them!  But again, whatever, the problem was solved, the charge for the extra landline was removed from our account and we paid the bill.

It was also during this call that we decided to cancel our cable TV. We never watch it and it’s just a waste of money, so we told them to cut it off and we sent the box back.

Cut to another month later, and our bill comes again... or rather it doesn’t. We get a notification saying the bill is ready to be viewed and we can see the total — WHICH IS WRONG AGAIN — but yet again, we can’t access the actual bill to see why it’s wrong. Another call, another “oh dear, we forgot to remove the charge for the cable” and it’s “fixed” again.

Are you seeing the pattern yet?

At this point, I’m beginning to feel sorry for the poor people who have unwittingly set up direct debits with Telstra and don’t bother to look at their bills before they’re charged, how many of those poor people have been ripped off by these arseholes this way?

So about a week ago I get another notification telling me this month’s bill is ready ... and we can’t access the full bill again. And yet again it’s wrong! They STILL haven’t taken off the cable even though we cancelled it and sent the box back almost two months ago. Why am I not surprised? It seems another call is in order and hell, while we’re at it, why don’t we find out why tf we can never seem to access our bill and also complain about the slowness of the internet that’s happening yet again the past few months.

Here’s where it get hilariously fucking annoying and aggravating...

Turns out the reason we can’t access our bills everyone month is because of something sales douche did when he was changing our plan. No one knows what he did or how he managed to fuck it up so badly, but whenever the automated process that handles credits tries to credit off the cable every month it can’t and then it keeps getting stuck in a loop of trying to fix itself and I keep getting notifications saying the bill is ready when it’s not.

Oh but it gets better... remember when sales douche said dropping the landline down to the lower plan wouldn’t affect anything else on our account, just the landline? Lies. Utter lies. Not only did it drop back our data allowance as I mentioned before... BUT IT ALSO DROPPED OUR CONNECTION TO A LOWER SPEED! Now, call me crazy but that seems like it’s affecting more than the landline doesn’t it? I’m pretty certain during the hours it took him to set up our new phones I even told him about all the issues we’d had with Telstra in the past and that the reason I wanted the Galaxy S9 Edge was because it came with a larger data plan, which I needed because our home connection was too slow to stream. I’d like to know in what universe he thought we would be ok with dropping our fucking connection speed!? Was he high!? Or was he just like every other damn Telstra employee who knows sweet fuck all about what they’re talking about because the company is a piece of shit? That sounds about right to me.

So now, we can either deal with the slower speed, or we can pay an extra $10 a month to go onto a faster speed that claims it will give us up to 45mbps which sounds fantastic because that’s like 4x the speed we had before all of this BUT if you’re Australian you’ll know that that “UP TO” part is a key marketing strategy with Telstra. Sure you MIGHT get up to that speed... if you live in the middle of a large city or right on top of an exchange, but even then it’s highly unlikely. No one EVER gets the speeds they’re promised from Telstra.

Now I know what you’re thinking, why not ditch Telstra and go with a different provider? Oh, my sweet summer child, if only it were that simple. Telstra is the largest communications industry in Australia and as shocking as it may be to believe, Telstra is the most reliable of all of them all. Their cell service has better range than any of them (which is important when you live in a rural area like we do) and even if we went with another company, there would be no guarantee we’d get a more stable internet connection because Telstra literally own all of the lines and the other companies simply rent them. There’s a reason you might hear many Australians complain about the internet, and that’s because Australia literally has worse internet than some third-world countries and we pay through the nose for it.

I did warn you about it being a long one didn’t I? lol So all we can do now is wait and see if the this supposedly faster 45mbps is actually what they say and go from there and if it’s not... someone is going to lose an eye.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Creature of Comfort (Part 2 of 2)

(A/N: Special thanks to Nix and @summerpipedream​ for being beta readers and helping me edit this story. All of your help has been much appreciated.)

Tony hugged the warm body beneath him. His nose brushed the clavicle of his partner. He tilted his head so he could brush his lips along the sensitive spot, but stopped as his lips made contact. He shouldn’t be cuddling or kissing his one night stand in the morning. It sent mixed signals. As much as he’d like to have a long term partner, so far, any attempts at making one night stands more than a fun evening had ended in disaster.

Tony silently told himself that he needed to get up and move, but his body felt so heavy, and his partner felt so good against him. He’d caught himself a man, and a fit one by the feel of it. The man’s abs were defined enough that Tony could detect each curve and dip. The arms wrapped around Tony’s waist and back were thick with muscle, but not grossly bulging as if the man were on steroids or had made weight lifting his profession.

The arm on his back shifted. His partner rubbed Tony’s back then returned to loosely holding him.

Tony smiled and fought down his reservations about cuddling. It didn’t hurt to indulge once in a while. Especially after the last couple days he’d been having.

The memory of him answering his phone to hear the police request his presence at the station broke Tony out of the happy enchantment his sleep addled mind had put him under.

Tony rolled off the man in his bed, and gracefully sat up beside the mysterious man.

Tony stared at the man. Brown, tousled tresses haloed the man’s head. When properly brushed, his hair probably went just above his shoulders. His morning shadow was a thick, fuzz that framed the small smile he gifted Tony. The blue eyes the man aimed at Tony were friendly and warm.

“You’re awake.” The man sat up. His movements drew Tony’s attention to his penis, which was uncovered like the rest of the man. Tony flicked his eyes back to the man, who hadn’t noticed at all. Instead, he cupped Tony’s cheek. “I know you probably still don’t feel too good, but I hope you’re feeling a little better.”

Tony tensed. He swore he had not had enough to drink yesterday to black out and find a one night stand. He swore it. However, if that was true, then he had a crazy stalker in front of him.

Not wanting to provoke his stalker into violence, Tony remained calm. “I feel weird.” Tony gently pushed away his staker’s hand. He rested his hand on his belly to imply that his stomach was bothering him. “I just…” Tony pushed his forehead against his fist and groaned. “Pounding headache. Can’t even remember my name. His Royal Majesty, was it?”

The stalker’s eyes widened with fright. ���Oh no. Then you’re not going to know how to explain this, are you?” The stalker gestured to himself.

Tony frowned. He looked the stalker over again. “You mean about last night?”

The stalker nodded. “I don’t know how, but now I am like this.” The stalker held up his hands and waved them. He then held up one arm and brushed his hand across it. “No fur.”

“So you don’t remember shaving yourself?” Tony’s stomach was bothering him now. Either the stalker was speaking nonsense or he had some wild memory problems. Either way, Tony did not feel safe. He needed to distract his stalker and call the police.

“Not shaving. I-” The stalker cut himself off. He lowered his gaze and slightly pursed his lips as he contemplated. “I sound crazy.” The stalker raised his gaze. He studied Tony then scowled. He snapped his fingers. “Damn. You remember last night, but you slept through that part. You’re freaking out now. I’m not doing a very good job.”

“I’m not freaking out.” Tony feigned amusement. “I find you highly entertaining.”

The man pointed at Tony’s face. “Nope. That’s the face you made the night Tiberius tried to make a move on you.”

Tony tensed. How did stalker guy know about that? That was years ago. Right before Tony went to MIT. This man couldn’t have been watching him that long.

“You played it cool, but then you knocked your stereo over so it would break your window. You held me all night after that.”

“Held you-” Tony started, but the man didn’t let him finish.

“You liked that Sunset girl though. You were so mad when your dad found out you were dating her. You were even more mad when he was right, and Sunset was just using you. That was another long night of holding. You actually held me all morning and afternoon the next day too. Your dad didn’t like that either, but your mom yelled at him when he said something.”

Tony’s mouth hung open an inch as he recalled the days after his breakup with Sunset Bane. He’d clung to Bucky so much. He’d been such a mess back then, and Bucky had felt like his only anchor. Howard had made his comments about Tony needing to act like an adult, but his mother Maria had told Howard to leave Tony be.

How could anyone know that?

Just like how could anyone know about Tiberius? Tony had never said anything, and he was pretty sure neither had Tiberius. Also the only person Tony had held—the only thing Tony had held was Bucky.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but…” The man twisted his head around and peered over his left shoulder. He beamed at his shoulder then smiled at Tony. “I have one piece of evidence.”

The man turned around and pointed to the back of his left shoulder.

Tony had to take moment to recognize what he was looking at. A stitched crescent of scar tissue curved along the man’s shoulder blade and under his armpit.

The man reached behind himself to try and touch the scar. “Howard didn’t want you to have me any more, so he took me away, but you found me. When he found out though, you both fought over me, and my arm was ripped. You screamed and tried to hit Howard, but Jarvis grabbed you. When you calmed down, he showed you how to fix my arm.” The man smiled over his shoulder at Tony. “This is from you. You fixed me, and Howard never tried to take me away again.”

Tony didn’t say anything. He was a man of logic and reason. Unless he were to believe that someone had been spying on him his whole life to pull off this particular prank, he was hard pressed to find an explanation for how the man in front of him knew what he did. He considered a few scientific theories to explain his teddy bear turning into a human, and even let his mind toy with the idea of his teddy bear being an alien that could assume different forms.

Truth be told, he had most likely suffered a mental breakdown.

“Tony.” The man turned around. A look of concern was etched across his face. “I’m Bucky. You’ve figured that out, right?”

Tony flashed back to Wanda giving him her business card and her words about a wish.

Tony shoved his hands into his pants pocket and pulled out Wanda’s card. “Put on some pants. I think we need to visit a witch.”

(Mobile Users: Read More Line)

Tony used the drive to Tomes and Tomes of Books to interrogate Bucky further. Truth be told, Bucky volunteered stories more than Tony demanded them of him. Bucky the teddy bear had been in the background for most of Tony’s life. There were things Tony had done in front of Bucky that he never would have associated with the bear.

“There was also that night when you were bored so you tried to set it up so when the sprinkler in your room went off your stereo would play ‘It’s Raining Men,’” Bucky said as Tony pulled up to the curb in front of the store.

Tony eyed the window where Tomes and Tomes of Books was written in golden cursive. A stack of books and a spyglass was drawn beneath the words. Without having to step outside his car, Tony could see Pietro arranging books on the shelves.

“Then there was also-”

“We’re here,” Tony cut Bucky off. He unbuckled his seatbelt. Tony pushed his door open, but only got as far as an inch before Bucky touched his arm, and his attention snapped toward Bucky.

Bucky snatched his hand away. “Sorry. You probably don’t want me to touch you right now.”

Tony didn’t know yet. He was confused. His brain was telling him he had to be having a nervous breakdown; however, his gut was telling him something different. He didn’t feel like he was falling apart mentally, and everything felt too real to be a hallucination. Also, Bucky knew years of tiny details about Tony’s life. Mundane things that no one but Tony and those close to him would know or care about.

More than he believed he was going crazy, a part him deeply considered that Bucky might be his bear.

“I just want you to know, I’m not lying,” Bucky said.

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “We’ll see.” Tony got out his car and slammed the door. He waited for Bucky to get out on the other side.

He watched as Bucky walked. His movements were slow and awkward, like he was still learning to walk. Sometimes he jutted his hips forward too much or he stuck his foot out a few inches off to the side.

Tony had seen him walk like that to the car too. Was it an act?

Tony didn’t dwell on the question. He went to the store. A bell chimed over head as he pushed open the red door and stepped into the store. He held the door open for Bucky, who smiled graciously at Tony.

Tony didn’t have to take a step farther into the bookstore. Pietro rounded the corner with a smirk on his face, and his mouth open to say something to the customer he expected to find. When he saw Tony and Bucky his jaw dropped. Although, Pietro’s attention started on them both, it swiftly shifted over to just Bucky.

Either Pietro found Bucky immensely attractive, or somehow Pietro knew Bucky wasn’t what he appeared to be.

“Sister, you’re going to want to see this!”

“Just a minute!” Wanda hollered from somewhere in the back.

“Now!”

There was a thump from deep within the store, then the stomping of feet. “This better be good, Pietro. You know my energy has been low all day. It’s bad enough that I have to…” Wanda trailed off as she came out from between an aisle of bookshelves. Like her brother had before her, she gaped like a fish. Also like her brother, her focus was entirely on Bucky.

Wanda whispered something that sounded like a curse under her breath. The language she’d spoken wasn’t one Tony was familiar with.

“Sorry for dropping by without a warning, but I figured, because I got a surprise this morning, everyone should.” Tony pointed at Bucky. “Someone want to explain how this guy was in my bed this morning?”

“I would have to assume you put him there,” Wanda mumbled. There was a hint of awe to her tone.

“Now we know why you have been feeling so tired today.” Pietro’s attention finally left Bucky and slid to Tony. “When you wish, you wish big.”

“A wish that wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t filled—whatever you were—with so much love and care.” Wanda took two steps then paused, realizing she was stepping into Tony and Bucky’s personal bubble. “Sorry, but I… I’ve heard of such a thing happening, but I never thought I’d see it with my own eyes, and by my blessing no less.”

“You’re going to have to explain yourself better than that,” Tony said.

Wanda nodded. She gestured down the aisle she had come from. “We have chairs this way. Take a seat. I’ll grab a book then explain. Would you like tea?”

“I just want answers,” Tony said.

“In time.” Wanda gestured again. “Please.”

Tony huffed. He didn’t like the delay, but he’d come all this way, and it wasn’t just to catch Wanda and Pietro off guard (he’d wanted to see their reactions and gauge how genuine they were).

So far, he wasn’t detecting any deceit.

Tony found the chairs in the back, and took a seat. The chairs were a few decades old, but well taken care of. They also had plenty of cushioning.  Under different circumstances, Tony would have been able to spend hours in his chair.

Bucky took the chair next to Tony.

Soon, Pietro and Wanda came lumbering toward them with their arms buried under books. Pietro adjusted his hold on his stack and nudged the coffee table nearby in front of Tony and Bucky. Pietro and Wanda then spread out the books and scoured through them until each book was opened to a specific page.

As Wanda and Pietro straightened, Tony skimmed the pages. Each page contained information on objects taking on life. Some mentioned energy, some concentration on a particular thought, and others emotion. Based on his quick scan, these were the key elements to bringing objects to life.

Wanda gestured to the books. “This will be hard for you to believe, but you brought something dear to you to life with the wish I promised you.”

The blood drained from Tony’s face. He felt sick. “You’re trying to tell me, I wished Bucky here into being.”

“Technically,” Pietro said, “he already existed, but unless he was a pet, he wasn’t alive until you wished it. Alive and human.”

“But I-” Tony stopped himself. He had wished Bucky was human.

Tony picked up one of the books and read it some more. “You want me to believe you’re an actual witch with magic?”

Wanda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Pietro, I’m drained. Could you, please?”

“My pleasure.” With a cocky grin, Pietro waved his hand and uttered a few words.

Something shifted near Tony’s hip.

Tony tilted his side so he could see what was happening. He yelped when his wallet zoomed out from his pocket and into Pietro’s hands. “This should be good enough. Unless you think I rigged your wallet.” Pietro winked at Tony.

Tony searched himself for a response, but found none.

Bucky picked up one of the books and frowned. “I only recognize some of these words.”

“You can read?” Tony asked.

“A little. You had already learned by the time we met, but Maria still liked to read to you, and sometimes you read things aloud. I learned more while you were learning Italian and French. I like French.”

“A teddy bear turned human who likes French,” Tony deadpanned. “I must have lost my mind.”

“Believe that if you want.” Pietro shrugged. He tossed Tony’s wallet back to him. “I can give you another demonstration if you need.”

Tony ran his hands over his wallet, searching for anything that would suggest it had been tampered with. He found nothing. He pocketed the wallet then shook his head. “All right, my dignity is already gone, so let’s go with this magic story. Because I wished it, Bucky is now human. Can he be turned back into a bear?”

Wanda and Pietro went ramrod straight. They looked at each other and held their gazes for a beat. In unison they broke eye contact. Wanda shook her head ruefully at Tony. “I am sorry. It was my powers and the feelings you put into Bucky that allowed for this transformation. As of right now, I wouldn’t be able to undo the spell, nor am I willing to. Bucky is human—sentient. To turn him back now would be murder. It is possible, but you would have to find someone with great power and a willingness to kill. If you found someone like that; however, I would recommend that you run away. You can’t trust someone like that.”

Wanda’s answer took Tony by surprise. He had been asking whether Bucky could be turned back out of curiosity. He hadn’t contemplated exactly what that would mean for Bucky. He saw Wanda’s point; although he had to question it a little. If Bucky had memories, did that not mean he was alive as a teddy bear? Or at least sentient? He certainly was not alive in the medical sense. However, Tony was an engineer whose focus was artificial intelligence (at the moment). For him, sentience didn’t necessarily mean something was alive.

In truth, if Bucky really was his teddy bear, which his gut was telling him more and more was the case, then Bucky was the most fascinating being in existence to Tony. The questions he brought up about intelligence and life were amazing and perplexing. Tony wanted to be around him just so he could witness how Bucky interacted with the world.

“I want more proof of magic,” Tony stated. “And unless Bucky turns out to be a murderer, I have no intention of turning him back.”

Bucky’s shoulders shot together. He looked offended. “I would never murder someone. It’s not in my nature.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow, fascinated even more by Bucky. “And what is your nature?”

Bucky huffed and flailed his hands before gesturing to himself. “I’m a teddy bear, Tony. I’m designed to comfort and be a playmate. The only way I’d ever kill someone would be if the murderer used me to smother someone in their sleep. I’d be traumatized if that ever happened.”

“A traumatized teddy bear. Interesting.”

“And what would you like me to do to demonstrate magic to you?” Pietro asked. “Keep it small. I can’t alter time or make someone fall in love with you.”

Tony mulled over the question. He wanted to avoid using anything that was in the store as part of the demonstration, just in case Wanda and Pietro had rigged it.  He came up with a couple of ideas. He nodded at Bucky. “His clothes are a little small. Can you make them bigger?”

Pietro nodded his head side to side and cracked his knuckles. “Could end up messing with mass if I’m not careful, but should be easy enough. Up.” Pietro gestured for Bucky to stand.

Bucky did so hesitantly.

Pietro closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and fanned his hands out at Bucky’s sides. He mumbled hurriedly in a foreign language, as if trying to get words out in one breath.

Bucky’s shirt loosened around his chest and arms. The sweats he wore went from clinging to baggy, and the sandals on his feet stretched out to cradle them better.

Pietro stopped speaking. He opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “There.”

Bucky tugged on the bottom of his shirt. “It’s longer, but it feels lighter.”

“Your sandals look thinner too,” Tony said. The shoes were wider, but it was as if Pietro had pushed the bottom and top of the sandal closer together to push more of the sandal out.

“Just made a few adjustments on the materials,” Pietro said. “One more demonstration?”

Tony shook his head and stood. He’d seen enough. Magic—or unexplained science as it were—was real or he was crazy, and if it was the latter, he was so forgone in his delusions that there was no helping him. He might as well go along for the ride.

Or see a psychiatrist.

A psychiatrist who would lock him up and sedate him, whether magic was real or not.

Tony was not going to see a psychiatrist.

Tony slapped his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself out of the seat. “Well, this has been enlightening. I have to go deal with, well,” Tony chuckled bitterly, “contracts, going through my parents’ stuff, dealing with phone calls from lawyers, and the death of my parents.”  

Wanda and Pietro tensed. Wanda’s eyes widened with shock, and Pietro shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m so sorry,” Wanda said.

Tony waved off her concern. “C’est la vie. C’mon, Bucky.” Tony marched toward the exit. He was done with the wonder twins. He wasn’t even mad. Not like they had intended to bring his teddy bear to life. Plus, much as it rankled him to have something so unexplainable as magic in his life, he just didn’t have the time or energy to care. This adventure was a nice detour, but reality was calling.

He’d have to decide what he would keep of his parents’ things, then decide if he would sell their home. He had no intention of living in it—too many memories. He could keep the home though, and keep all of their stuff inside of it. It would be like the house was frozen in time.

Tony’s gut churned at the thought.

“Tony,” Bucky called out to him.

Tony stopped and blinked. He was no longer inside the bookstore. Instead he was outside and more than a few paces away from his car. He had no idea where he had been walking to just a few seconds ago, but wherever it was, it wasn’t his parents’ home.

“Tony.” Bucky took a step toward Tony. He’d stopped a few steps past the hood of Tony’s car before he’d called out to Tony. There was a car length of space between him and Tony.

Bucky’s brow was wrinkled. His cheeks were puffed and his lips slightly pursed. He looked confused, worried, and torn. He huffed then gestured at Tony’s car. “This one is yours.”

Tony nodded. “Just testing you.” Tony crossed the space between him and Bucky. His intention was to get to the driver door of his car, and he expected Bucky to step out of his path, but Bucky remained in his spot. Tony made to move around Bucky, but Bucky subtly jutted his hand out to the side. It was a silent request for Tony to stay in place, and easily ignorable.

Tony chose to pay attention to the gesture and stopped in front of Bucky.

“I know you probably don’t want it right now, but if you need a hug, let me know. It’s my job.”

“Thanks,” Tony stated.

Bucky fidgeted. “Can I be honest?”

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Have you not been?”

Bucky startled. “What? No. I…” Bucky trailed off. “I just wanted to let you know that I want to give you a hug.” He shrugged. “But I also don’t want you to feel obligated either. I know you like making people happy. I like making people happy too. So don’t make yourself unhappy by trying to make me happy. ‘Cause then I’ll be unhappy, and then we will both be miserable.” Bucky smiled softly and held out his hand. “Deal?”

Tony’s thoughts were spinning. He was trying to process what Bucky was saying, while other parts of his brain were focused on his parents’ deaths and another part had gone back to trying to make sense of the whole magic and teddy bear scenario. He blinked then took a deep breath. He held up his hands as if to squeeze the air then lowered them. “You know what?” Tony flapped his arms at his side. “Fine. Let’s do this hug thing.”

Before Bucky could fret over whether Tony was truly hugging him out of a genuine desire or if he was doing it out of pressure, Tony flung his arms around Bucky and hugged him with all his strength.

The feelings of early morning bliss returned to Tony as he held Bucky. At first he thought it was a memory of the sensation, but as Bucky wrapped his arms around Tony, Tony felt so warm, secure, and safe in Bucky’s embrace, he couldn’t stop himself from sagging against Bucky and clinging to him.

Tony fisted the back of Bucky’s shirt. He took a deep breath and caught a whiff of the scent of his bedsheets and home.

His eyes watered as the tension in his muscles eased away.

“Are you a living, breathing sedative?” Tony whispered in awe.

Bucky cocked his head and looked down at Tony. “I’m a living, breathing teddy bear turned human.”

“You have superpowers of comfort,” Tony mumbled. His voice of reason murmured to him that he needed to let go of Bucky and step out of his embrace, but everything else in Tony screamed vehement denials.

Bucky stood on his tiptoes and rested his chin on Tony’s head. He chuckled. “I’m a teddy bear. Comfort is the only power I have.”

“I need to go to my parents’ house,” Tony said.

“Do you want me to let go?” Bucky asked.

“No,” Tony admitted. “But I need you to. I don’t think I can make myself let go right now.”

“Okay.” Bucky removed his chin from atop Tony’s head. He slowly slid his arms off Tony. He then took a step back, breaking Tony’s hold.

It was like jumping out of a nice warm bed after a wonderful night of rest, onto a hardwood floor in the middle of winter with a snow storm outside and no heat.

Tony shivered. He hugged himself and rubbed his arms. “Wow. That is drastic.” Doubt, fear, sorrow, and anger prickled along his heart and slashed his throat. He pushed down the those negative feelings by sheer will. “We should test that out more. Car.” He gestured to his car.

Bucky nodded and headed toward the passenger side. “I’ll hug you whenever you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tony would also have to be careful. To go from an emotional high to a low so fast could not be good for him.

Also, with his life in such disarray, he’d become an addict to Bucky in no time.

[workfromhomeyoutuber]

You Need A Budget (YNAB): Humbly Confident Email Marketing Automation Specialist

Headquarters: Salt Lake City, UT URL: https://www.youneedabudget.com/

At YNAB, we build the world’s best budgeting software. But teaching people how to get control of their money and changing lives one budget at a time is what gets us up in the morning. In order to teach the masses the YNAB way of budgeting, it requires sending emails...lots and lots of emails (and messages, really). That’s where you come in!

You are an HTML email-crafting savant on wheels. You scorn the decision makers at Microsoft for their implementation of Outlook 2003’s HTML rendering, but you also love the challenge and job security it brings. Also, it was a different time...who knew CSS would be a thing (everybody knew, but still)?

Even though you love getting into the weeds, creating and troubleshooting HTML emails and in-app messages, you also have never met a mind map that you don’t like. You’re building customer lifecycle messaging funnels in your sleep. You’re targeting, triggering and delaying like a procrastinating hunter! You’re fascinated by the user journey and you absolutely love finding new ways to convert, engage, and retain anyone and everyone who comes into the marketing automation orbit.

Requirements (these are real, actual requirements): 

You have a ton of experience using Marketing Automation platforms. We use Braze, but they all have similar rules (Marketo, Iterable, SFMC, Eloqua, etc.). 

You can take a messaging series strategy, develop the emails (we have designers to design them), implement all of automation details, troubleshoot, A/B test and optimize it to a degree that impresses everyone you know and have ever talked to.

You are a highly skilled HTML/CSS email developer. You can (and probably should) use a solid template as a base, but there’s no email client issue you can’t troubleshoot.

Oh, hey, also, it probably goes without saying, but you can make those same emails look amazing on mobile. Are we still using the word “responsive?” You get the idea.

That gives you a pretty good idea of the job, but first, you need to know if you’ll even like working with us. (We think you will.)

A Bit About Us

We build the best budgeting software around, YNAB or “You Need a Budget” if you have a lot of extra time on your hands. For more than a decade, people have been buying YNAB and then telling their friends what a difference it has made in their lives. (Google us, or read some of our reviews on the app store, and you’ll see what we mean.) We love building something that has a huge positive impact on people’s lives.

We’re profitable, bootstrapped, and growing. YNAB started in 2004 and we haven’t taken any outside funding—we’re in it for the long haul. 

We have one overarching requirement when it comes to joining our team: our Core Value Manifesto has to really click with you. If you’re nodding emphatically while reading it, you’ll probably fit right in, in which case, we can’t wait to hear from you! 

First, let’s talk about life at YNAB and then we’ll go into detail about what we’re looking for. 

Who you’d be working with:

Lindsey & The Gang aka the Marketing Team aka just a rag-tag but lovable bunch of underdogs who defy the odds—making budgeting software hilarious, emotional, and accessible—day in and day out. (Disney, are you listening?) 

We love musical theater, board games, stand-up comedy, the Enneagram, video games, and art, to varying degrees, depending on who you talk to first. Our internal Slack channel is so much fun, it has a growing fanbase. 

Lindsey, our Chief Marketing Officer, will be the first to delete something very important, but also the first to celebrate your wins—big and small. Ryan, our Digital Marketing Director, will quickly become your lifeline in any type of bracketology-related emergency and even under website-launch-level-stress, he can sneak in the jokes that make you feel like, “if Dad’s OK, we’ll all be OK.” 

And then there’s, Ben B. and Janelle, who lead out on Community Engagement and Social Media, respectively. They both have huge hearts, and a tangible passion for our customers, plus they are hilarious. Reema, our Marketing Production Manager, keeps all the balls in the air, while wearing many different hats, basically, if there is a need, yo, she’ll solve it (and yes, that was a seamless incorporation of Vanilla Ice lyrics). 

Plus, our brilliant creatives, Lauren and Marian (designers), Tristan (animation), Hannah and Ashley (video), and Rachel (writing) bring everything to life. They are a veritable idea machine who serve to make us look good on a daily basis. What more could you ask for?

More importantly, you get to work with Arturo, our brilliant marketing developer whose mult-lingual humor and je ne sais quoi (I don’t know what that means, but Arturo probably does) will restore all your faith (if you had lost any) in humanity on a daily basis. 

But wait, there’s more! As the sole Email Marketing Automation Specialist at YNAB, you’ll be working with Support reps to craft in-app messages and Product Designers to communicate with beta testing cohorts that help test new features in YNAB. Essentially, you will be the glue that holds together the YNAB email marketing machine (don’t ask us why our machine uses glue instead of, like, bolts and more-machiney-type things).

How You’ll Work at YNAB

We work really hard to make working at YNAB an amazing experience. In fact, we were recently recognized as Fortune's #4 best small company to work for in the United States! We have a team full of truly exceptional people—the kind you’ll be excited to work with. Here’s how we operate:

Live Where You Want

We’re a distributed team, so you can live and work wherever you want. Proximity doesn’t influence productivity. Taylor, our CTO, was traveling who-knows-where for a couple of years before he bought a farm. Up and move to France for a year? Sure, Todd did that. Don’t like France? How about London, where Janelle trotted off to. Tulsa Remote? Can do. Or if you just love LA or Baltimore or Buenos Aires, we’ve got people there, too.  Not all of us move around, but the fact that these folks have is totally okay because we’re all adults. Just make sure you have a reliable internet connection.

No Crazy Hours

We rarely work more than 40 hours per week. There have been a few occasions where things got a little crazy and people had to log some extra hours. But then they took some extra time off, so it all balances out. We work hard and smart but we’re in this for the long haul, no need to go crazy on the hours.

Take Vacation (Seriously)

We want you to take vacation. In fact, we have a minimum vacation policy of three weeks per year. Five weeks feels about right (plus two extra weeks for Christmas break). It’s important to get out and do something. We’ll look forward to seeing pictures of your vacation in our Slack channel, creatively named #office_wall.

The YNAB Meetup

We get the teams together once a year to catch up on spreadsheets and powerpoints in a Best Western conference room. Just kidding. So far, we’ve done Costa Rica, a gigantic cabin in the mountains, a beach house in the Outer Banks, a ranch in Montana, and most recently, Laguna Beach. We work together, play together, and reinforce the bonds we’ve made as a team and company. Every year, we leave refreshed, motivated, and excited for the year ahead together.

Up Your Game

We’re serious about helping you improve your craft. We budget for it (hey-o!). Think conferences, Lynda subscriptions, dedicated time away from work to learn something new… it’s really up to you and your manager. But we love to see our people growing.  

International is Absolutely Oka

If you are Stateside, we’ll set you up as a W2 employee. If you’re international, you’ll be set up as a contractor. Employee or contractor, it’s all the same to us. You’re part of the team. (We are spread all over the world: Switzerland, Scotland, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Germany, Canada, and all over the United States.)

If You’re Stateside…

YNAB offers fantastic health, dental, and vision insurance, where we cover 100% of the premium for you and your family. (No need to check your vision, you read that right, 100%. Although if you did need to check your vision, we’ve got you covered!)

We also have a Traditional and Roth 401k option. YNAB contributes three percent whether you choose to throw any money in there or not. It vests immediately. (Are you a personal finance junkie like our founder Jesse? He set up YNAB’s 401k to have the lowest fee structure possible, where all plan costs are paid by YNAB, not your retirement nest egg. The investment funds available are fantastic, passively-managed, ultra low-cost index funds. You’re not a PF junkie? Trust us, it’s awesome.)

Other Tidbits

Once you start, we DEMAND (in a friendly, ALL CAPS IS YELLING way) that you fill out your “Bucket List” spreadsheet with 50 items. (That’s harder than it sounds!) 

The bucket list really helps in deciding what we should give you for your birthday and the holidays.

We have a bonus plan based on profitability. You’ll be in on that from day one. YNAB wins, you win. That kind of thing.

We’re all adults. There’s no need to punch a clock, or ask for permission to take off early one afternoon to go see the doctor (health insurance premium 100% covered!). We look at what you accomplish, not how long you sit (have you tried standing?) in front of a computer.

We want you firing on all cylinders so we’ll set you up with a shiny new computer and replace it every three years.

Did I mention we make a huge, positive difference in people’s lives? You may not think that matters much, but then a few months down the road you’ll realize it’s made your job really, really enjoyable. Don’t underestimate this one!

If this sounds like your ideal environment, read on because now I want to talk about you. You will play a big, big part in helping YNAB customers achieve success. You will change lives. I’ll only say that six more times.

Now, back to you, our new Email Marketing Automation Specialist...

We’re educators and content marketers here at YNAB, and email and in-app messages are the principal way that we teach and engage with our users after they have made the decision to give us a chance. We feel like our content is something that sets us apart from our competitors in an extremely crowded space, so you will be on the front lines, delivering that content (precious cargo). We’re counting on you. You’re our only hope!

You’ll have all of the tools you need to deliver engaging, personalized messages to these new, budding budgeters as they learn how to gain total control of their money. We have writers and designers to help craft the content that you’ll develop. We have full stack developers who will keep all the systems functioning and keep all the data (for targeting) nice and clean.

Now, we need you to develop the emails/messages, set the targeting, configure the triggers and unleash the campaigns into the world.

You are our ideal candidate if you: 

Have at least 3-5 years of experience using Marketing Automation platforms. Braze is preferred, but experience with any similar platform totally works. This probably wouldn’t include some ESP’s like Constant Contact. We’re really looking for more powerful Automation platforms.

Have at least 3-5 years of experience developing responsive HTML/CSS emails.

Are comfortable creating strategies for all phases of the customer lifecycle (acquisition, conversion, retention, winback).

Have some pretty stellar writing skills.

Make us laugh. 

Manage your time exceptionally well and you are comfortable working remotely. 

Incredibly organized, flexible, and collaborative. 

Never met a deadline you didn’t love. 

Self-motivated and driven by nature, maybe even a little competitive. 

Stay laser-focused on the big picture, without losing sight of every. last. detail. 

Wildly productive and independent, but a team-player at heart. 

Bonus Points: 

You already use and love YNAB. 

You are familiar with webhooks and API integrations and might even know a little bit of JavaScript.

You write some pretty amazing email copy, or at least you know it when you see it.

YNAB is an equal opportunity employer. We believe diversity of backgrounds, beliefs, and experiences to be critical to our success and are passionate about creating a welcoming, supportive, and collaborative environment for all employees. All are encouraged to apply as we continue to grow a smart, hard-working, and diverse team who love working together to build something that matter

How to Apply

Apply here (https://ynab.recruiterbox.com/jobs/fk0q69o) by 11:59PM on March 9th, 2020. Firm. It’s a real deadline. The kind you love.

Attach a pdf of your cover letter. In your cover letter: 

Introduce yourself and explain why this position is of interest to you, and why you would be a great fit. Please limit this section of the cover letter to 1.5 pages. 

On a separate page of your cover letter, answer the following questions (with each response being about a paragraph in length): 

1. What attracted you to this position? (This is not about what attracted you to the software.) 

2. What criteria do you look for when searching for your next company or position? 

3. What are your favorite and least favorite parts of your current job? 

4. Tell us about a time when you had to learn something new to excel at your job. 

5. Tell us about the craziest email client bug/issue that you’ve ever troubleshooted (troubleshot?). What was it? How did you discover it and how did you fix it? What do you do now to make sure you never have to fight it again? 

6. What are some of the differences between emails, messages, and automation strategies that you would implement to convert users vs. those that you would send to retain users? 

If you have a prepared resume, attach it in PDF form. If you don’t have a resume because you aren’t even sure you’re looking to change jobs, that’s fine! An informal list of your work and education history are all we’re looking for.

Please send all attachments as PDFs. 

P.S.  If you’re not interested in or available for this position, but know someone who is, we would really appreciate it if you passed this along!

To apply: https://ynab.recruiterbox.com/jobs/fk0q69o

from We Work Remotely: Remote jobs in design, programming, marketing and more https://ift.tt/381DopO from Work From Home YouTuber Job Board Blog https://ift.tt/2VwQZ5M

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Gotham’s Villains Awards”

Once a year, all Gotham’s elite underworld gets together to recognize the best of the worst among them. After working so hard to create mayhem and chaos,it sure is nice to enjoy an event created just for that.

Harvey Dent is hosting tonight’s event. It is a chance for Gotham’s underworld elite to come together and celebrate the mayhem and chaos they create every year. You and The Joker are sitting at a table close to the stage, sharing the space with The Penguin and his girlfriend, Anita and Harvey’s wife, Sophia. Since he is on the stage, can’t really join you for the evening and that’s fine with J. He keeps on talking to Oswald and you chitchat with the girls.

“Are you going to try for another baby?” Anita asks because you hang out quite a bit so she knows the story.

“Yes, we are actually trying again, I really want a girl,” you sigh, thinking about all the pink, cute stuff you can buy for a little Princess and you can’t since you have 5 boys.

“And…how are things going?” Sophia elbows you, snickering.

“Great, can’t complain; J is such a stud, he could get a rock pregnant!” you praise your partner in crime.

Plop! An olive bounces off your cleavage and falls on your plate. The Joker was eavesdropping (like he always does) so he had to get your attention.

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrr,” he purrs from across the table, winking and goes back to his conversation.

You smile, blushing a bit and scratch your arm, flattered.

“I love my kids, don’t get me wrong,” you address the women, “but a girl in the ocean of testosterone would be nice.” They laugh, amused and you have to say it: “I think it might be something wrong with J’s genes - he can only make boys.”

Plop! Another olive bounces off you.

“There’s nothing wrong with my genes, Pumpkin,” he growls, annoyed. He wants to continue with a rant but the first award of the night is coming up. They never show the nominees, they just present the winner to avoid further confrontations between all the crazy people in there. If you don’t really know who you were up against, then things won’t get out of hand. Hopefully.

Harvey Dent clears up his throat and announces:

“The first award of the night is Best Car Chase of The Year. And the winner is… Mister J for the third year in a row!”

“Ha! I won again!” J gets up, leans over the table to kiss you and you are so excited for him. Pictures taken from the surveillance cameras all over Gotham show the Purple Lamborghini followed by the Bat mobile on June 15th, when you and J robbed 7 banks in one night. J goes on the stage and Harvey hands over his recognition.

“Thank you!” his deep voice resonates in the huge room and the speakers tremble from the husky tone that makes you shiver with adoration. You are about to lose your shit; he looks so dashing in that silver suit. ”All I wanted to say is: Batsy’s a jerk!!” The whole place goes insane! Everyone is clapping, whistling and get on their feet, chanting his name. He smirks, victorious, enjoying being the center of attention and points towards you: “My wife was with me that night so half of this is hers.” You almost faint with exhilaration and blow him a kiss while he feels the need to clear up something:

“And for the record, there’s nothing wrong with my genes!” Not a single soul was phased by the random sentence because they are all a bunch of mad weirdoes. Nothing fazes them since they are used to awkwardness; they actually clap more.

Your husband returns to his sit not before kissing you again, then bites your neck fast and really hard.

“Auch!! That hurts,” you complain, pouting, covering the red mark.

“Good,” he whispers in your ear. “That got you pregnant, Doll. Since I can get rocks pregnant, maybe this worked also,” he sniffles your hair, aroused, then fights with himself to get away and returns by Oswald’s side.

“Our next award recognizes the good work of our trusted sidekicks,” Two Face underlines. “The award for Henchman of The Year goes to… Jonny Frost! He couldn’t be here tonight due to his need to recovery from the 3 bullet wounds he sustained on a mission in…in…” Dent goes through his papers, not finding the information.

“New York!” J shouts, rolling his eyes.

“Huh?”

“New York, man!” The Joker yells louder.

“Oh, New York,” Harvey finally understands. “Anyway, we wish him speedy recovery so he can go out there and create more trouble. It is fair to assume Mister and Misses J will take the award to him.”

“No, I don’t want to!” J sulks, irritated.

“Of course we will,” you wave at Harvey with a smile, nodding a yes.

Oswald distracts The Joker with some questions and Sophie inquires about a detail she always wanted to know.

“Say, Y/N, how did you and Mister J met?”

“Ahhh…” you take a deep breath, touching your burning cheeks from the precious memory, “…he stole my heart.”

“Oh my God, how romantic!” both women squeal with puppy eyes.

“No, he literally stole my heart. I was delivering one I found on the black market for a transplant a senator’s father needed, can’t remember the name but he had the money,” you quickly add, “ …and J stole it from me; he thought I had diamonds in there. Isn’t that sweet?” you giggle and they follow. “I have no idea how he got my number, but after an hour he called, pissed about what he found when he opened the box. I had to give him half the money promised to me in order for him to return that heart for delivery. J is a very good negotiator; the whole time he talked to me on the phone he made these sounds that got me all worked up. He’s such a flirt; I had to take a cold shower after the phone conversation.”

Plop! The olive bounces off your shoulder and you take it from the table and eat it, licking your lips in the process. The Joker flashes this huge silver smile and everything fades: you so want to jump over this table and rip his clothes off but can’t.

“The next award of the evening is Best Dressed Male Villain of The Year. And the winner is…The Riddler!”

“Booooo!” J protests, unhappy he didn’t win that one. But, come on, the Riddler looks cute because they let him wear his trademark outfit in prison. Nobody else was that lucky. “The Riddler can’t be here tonight, he’s still incarcerated at Arkham,” Harvey informs.

All the ladies in the room go awwwww.

“Ha!Ha!Ha!” your husband cracks up, thrilled about The Riddler’s misfortune.

“Wasn’t someone designated to get him out of there?” Dent asks the crowd and they look at each other, confused. The Joker coughs, sipping on his brandy. He was appointed for that task but didn’t give a shit. “Anyway, we��ll keep it for him until he’s back,” the ex-senator concludes, continuing with his task. “Next, one of the lovely ladies will be up here to join me. The award for Best Dressed Female Villain of The Year goes to…Poison Ivy!”

“Booooo!” you get upset because you didn’t win but your objection disappears under the ruckus her presence on stage creates among the attendance. “What the hell?! She just has a bunch of leaves hanging down her butt, what’s the big deal?!” J sees you are cranky so he gestures for you to go to him. You sit in his lap for a little bit; it always makes you feel better no matter what.

“You’re the best dressed for me, Kitten,” he winks, caressing your thigh. “Though I like you undressed mucchhhh better,” J corrects his sentence, breathing on your neck and you sure need another cold shower right now.

Harvey is announcing Best Explosion of The Year that goes to Mister Freeze for the simultaneous blasting of police headquarters in 6 precincts on May 14th but you don’t pay too much attention since J is the center of your universe for the moment. You seductively pull on his shirt’s collar, so attracted to him you would love to flee the event just to get it out of your system.

“Congratulations!”  The Penguin pats your back and you both get out of trance.

“Huh?”

“You won Best Villain Couple of The Year, get up there!” everyone urges you and the deafening applauses echo in your ears. You hold hands with The Joker and go collect your award.

“You’re so sexy Mister J!” somebody has the nerve to scream from the crowd.

“Thank you honey, ” your husband scoffs, fixing his perfect green locks. “Who said that?!” you snap, scanning the women and they don’t give out the guilty party.“I’m gonna  blow your brains out!” the threat follows and all the psychos are aware you mean it.

There are some roars and whistles coming from men as your possessiveness takes over, then:

“You look so hot when you’re angry, Y/N!”

Your face turns from frowny to ecstatic in just one second:

“Thank you, darling!”

“Who the fuck said that? “ J takes over the microphone, his blood boiling with jealousy. “This is my woman; I’m gonna stab you 50 times and enjoy it!!!” Nobody gives away the offender and Harvey manages to calm down the commotion to some people’s disappointment: they would like to see some shit going down tonight.

For the rest of the evening you fret, keeping a close eye on J and he does the same with you. Nobody takes away what’s yours! He believes the same but doesn’t share, of course.

You really started relaxing a bit after dying of laughter: when Bane was climbing the steps towards the platform to accept Best Heist of The Year award, he tripped on the red carpet and fell on his face. Jeez, did he have a tantrum or what?! Almost as good as The Joker, but nobody beats him. Pretty close and nice try.

Two more hours pass by and it’s finally time for the last award of the evening: Nemesis of The Year.

Dent flips his coin once, opens the envelope and puffs:

“And the award for the fourth year in a row goes to The Batman!”

“The asshole won!” J claps his hands, chuckling like a maniac. People are booing, discontent to hear the name but it’s the tradition to recognize the best from the opposite side, so… nothing that can be done about it.

“I’ll take it!” your husband offers without hesitation and he is handed the award: a gold statue of Gotham’s vigilante, about the size of an Oscar.

*****************

You creep inside the penthouse just to notice everyone passed out from exhaustion: your five sons are cuddled around the 3 henchmen appointed to babysit tonight, scattered on the couches all over the living room. It really looks like a battlefield: probably they played villains and cops again. Yep, there it is: your oldest son (he’s 12) is wearing a Batsy outfit. Your youngest (he’s 2 and a half) is wearing a policeman outfit. You can’t see the others because it’s too dark.

“Ssstttt,” the Joker covers your mouth when you attempt to go and wake them up, this way they can sleep in their beds. “Let them be, we gotta celebrate. I wanna have sex!” he drags you after him and you kind of regret not kissing your kids good night and kind of don’t. You sneak inside one of the bedrooms upstairs, the furthest on the hallway for more privacy, which a lot of times is hard to obtain  with 5 offsprings.

“Kittyyyy, “ J purrs, running his hands down your back, “Come to Daddy.”

“Mmmm…” you enjoy his touch, unbuttoning his shirt. “You teased me all night long, it’s outrageous!”

“Bad girl!” he slams you against the wall when your hand stops on his crotch.

“Dammit!” you mutter, exasperated.

“Wha’ ? What is it? I’m ready to go, what’s the problem?! Nobody is faster than me! Are you trying to say I’m not fast enough?!” his ego kicks in and you don’t even know where he gets all these ideas from.

“It’s not that and you know it, my blue eyed pretzel,” you pull him in your arms, disappointed you didn’t remember sooner.

“Then what is it?” he pushes himself into you so hard you can’t breathe.

“Ummm… we forgot to deliver the award…” you yawn, slowly blinking.

“Crap!”  J gasps, stomping his foot. “I was too horny on the way home to think straight!”

“Me too…” you are fast to whine. “But the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and full around…”

“Uhhhhh, “ he groans, releasing you and walking funny towards the door. “Be quiet and let’s hurry up, Princess!” ******************

Bruce Wayne is driving around Gotham’s streets in his Bat Mobile, making sure they are safe. Suddenly, a huge Batsy signal illuminates the night sky.

What does Gordon want now?! he sighs, tired and not in the mood.

Once he gets to the top of the building, there’s nobody there. The scanner discloses nothing either. But there is something under the reflector. He approaches and bends over to grab the gold statue representing him. A small handwritten note under it. He unfolds it and reads: “There’s nothing wrong with my genes!”

What the hell is this? he asks himself, puzzled. Bruce has an idea about who left that there.

The Batman looks closer to see the inscription on the award: Nemesis of the Year.

“Hm,” he huffs, “I won again.”

Also read: MASTERLIST

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