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forbidden-sunlight · 2 days

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yandere!merman with fem! mob game character!reader imagine

warnings: implied violence, manipulation, delusional and obsessive behavior, fem!reader.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

A piece inspired by one featuring yandere!capture targets and a villainess!reader in an otome game setting that was created by fellow yandere writer @intynidad. I will leave the link to the aforementioned work here.

Special thanks to @yandere-writer-momo for helping with the final edits for this piece and @f4turemom for feedback on earlier drafts. Enjoy! :)

On the surface, The Miracle of Love doesn’t seem any different from the other otome games that have hit the shelves. As the main protagonist, you enroll in a magical academy but face discrimination because of your commoner status and possession of extremely rare light magic. Only the aristocrats have them. Why do you? Well, it’s never explained and honestly, nobody really cares, since mastering your magic isn’t the primary goal of completing the game. No, you are to select from four unique capture targets.

They all have different character stories, distinct personalities, and from separate parts in the social hierarchy. The only variables they have in common is that they are on the student council and each of their routes has a designated villainess. Depending on the capture target you’ve selected, you can get any of the following scenarios: bad, true, or friendship ending. And those endings will determine how the chosen capture targets eliminate the villainess.

Yes, you are reading this correctly. In this game world, you are not a sweet, kind-hearted young lady who hopes for unity and a pleasant experience at the academy, despite your own challenges.

You came to this school to learn how to control your powers so that you can elevate your reputation and status in high society. You weren’t content being an illegitimate daughter who spent her days toiling away in a dirty, hot kitchen in a barony that is barely holding itself together. You wanted more, to better your fortunes and have a life that you deserved. Armed with magic, a quick wit, and a haircomb bequeathed to you by your late mother, you enroll into the academy to rise to the top. You would not stop until you’ve achieved everything that your greedy heart desires.

Who knew deviating from the classic, overused formula of otome game protagonists would be such a big hit with the targeted female audience? Your co-worker had cleared it during her staycation and pestered you to give The Miracle of Love a chance. When you kept refusing, she resorted to sneaking it inside your bag when you left your desk to use the restroom.

Now, imagine getting the bad ending for the ice-cold heir to the dukedom, resulting in your losing consciousness and awakening inside the game world itself. Not as the protagonist a villainess, but a mob character who was just born to a loving couple. No sudden changes in an existing person so that you use your modern-day knowledge to improve the country.

Sorry isekai fans, but you weren’t a thief.

The Vellane duchy, your home, controls the busiest harbor in the Gennevilliers Kingdom. Technology from your old life wouldn’t do any good here, and you only knew how they worked, not assembling them together. The rifles that the naval officers carried were enough to scare anyone in these parts, especially if there is a mermaid or merman aboard the ship to be sold for a high price at the black markets.

They were ethereal, agile creatures of the deep, possessing the head and upper body of a human and the tail of a fish. Honestly, they looked like how movies or fairytales of your old world depicted them. Their singing could enchant sailors, leading to their ships crashing on the sharp rocks and disappearing forever.

According to legend, your great-grandfather worked tirelessly to enforce poaching and smuggling laws in this harbor. At the time, it was a haven for pirates seeking sanctuary and a hub for drugs and priceless treasures. His predecessor had let it rot for receiving bribes to pay off his debts to a casino. The commodity that the pirates valued above gold was a mermaid in pristine condition. The pirates could extract the scales, fins, intestines, and tears from the mermaid or merman if they found the right people. All of which could make someone very rich in a single night, or make a delicious soup that once someone tasted it, they could not get enough of it. People rarely kept the poor creatures as pets, and if they did, it was only until their owners tired of them and started chasing after the next shiny thing.

It took your great-grandfather a long time, but with the help of his supporters and his new wife’s naval military, he was able to restore law and order in the harbor at twenty-nine. He made an alliance with the merfolk after befriending one of them, who had led them as their emperor. Presently, your family are the only humans that the merfolk would ever trust with their lives. Which brought out your current dilemma: The Miracle of Love’s DLC expansion.

Even after finishing the game, the developers shared teasers on social media for new heart-stopping routes that would be available to the public. Of course, if anyone wanted to get early access, they would need to pay a premium membership fee upfront. Your co-worker dedicated a considerable amount of her paycheck to gaining early access. However, she couldn’t stop complaining about the glitches and her inability to get the new dark romance novel she desired, which resulted in her being placed on a waitlist. To be fair, you showed her how to use Google Spreadsheets to create a weekly budget for her expenses but she drowned your advice out with uh-huh, yeah whatever, I know how to do it, I just don’t want to ‘cause it would be, like, I’m back at the office during stuff for a client.

Her unwillingness to share information on the DLC expansion, coupled with her sly smirk, would have been enough to make you want to throw her out the window if she wasn’t already an insufferable little shit. She only provided you with minimal information on the DLC expansion, wearing a sly smirk. The expansion featured three capture targets, one hidden character, and a mysterious seashell that could enhance the game’s lore or serve as a magic amplifier depending on your choices.

The targets included the following individuals: a swashbuckling pirate who is the captain of a vessel that harbored dangerous magical artifacts, an uptight naval officer who recently had his engagement annulled by a frivolous fiancee who comes back to him for a second chance when the protagonist selects his route, and the heir to the Vellany duchy, your older brother. You were completely and utterly fucked because no matter what route the protagonist would select in this DLC expansion, it would affect you and your family negatively. The alliance with the merfolk might shatter, resulting in history repeating itself all over again. But you know the protagonist wouldn’t give a damn because it was none of her concern unless the consequences would impede on her endgame goals, whatever they could be.

Shit. Would you even have enough time to put together countermeasures to minimize the damage when the protagonist is supposed to be there in a matter of weeks for summer vacation?! And who was the capture target that she’d been able to snag, as a lover or as a friend?! Damnitdamnitdamnit!

While you stressed over this predicament outside on your bedroom balcony, he watched you from below with his turquoise eyes. He felt the chill of the inky waters around him caressing his bare skin and swished an emerald-green scaled appendage from left to right, barely visible beneath the waning moonlight. A curtain of wet, dark pink tresses floated behind him.

You were as beautiful as the day he had separated from you.

It was a chance encounter that your paths had crossed, preordained by the stars above. If you had not chased after his captors, armed with nothing but a crossbow and weak water magic, he would have never seen his family ever again.

He had waited patiently for three long summers until he was certain that you were of marriageable age, throwing himself into his academics and physical training at the royal academy founded by his ancestors.

He was ready. He only had to place the seashell he had so carefully selected as his courting gift to you in a place where you would find it. Once he saw it was in those small, tender hands, you would be his bride forevermore.

No one will stand in the way of your union, even if another human woman claimed to be his true destiny and you were a fraud.

Taglist: @yandere-dark-cupid @ghostdoodlen @ixchelhernandez4 @yourdoorisunlocked @obsessedwithromance @dreamlessnight @persephone-kore-law @pinkgoldweebgirl @slowlyswimmingmoon @suiana @aiimee9 @beardedblizzardexpert @hotnbloodied @valeriinee @somerandomdere @lu-zo-san @ozzgin @sourlove @the-cat-queen-peasants @swallowtail-lotus @solandis-does-stuff @itadorismommy @tired-of-life-86 @nunezs-stuff

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agxxb · 2 days

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Could you do a Colin Bridgerton x reader where he saves her from an arranged marriage. Maybe she’s Eloise’s friend and reader is complaining to her and Colin overhears and confesses to her

ofc!! i hope you enjoy ◡̈

No Ring? No Problem .𖥔 ݁ ˖

colin bridgerton x f!reader

warnings: fluff. use of ‘y/n/n’. love confession. best friend’s brother. mention of arranged marriage. [1k]

Your heart ached, your father’s words still echoing in your mind. You thought you had more time, more opportunities and chances to find a husband — but you were wrong.

Your parents had found you one, a man of their choosing. You could not believe them; your first social season and they had already taken control over who you must marry.

You had never met ‘Lord Vincent Howard’, the name your father had told you belonged to the man you were to wed. You didn’t want to meet him, either. Sure, he had a title along with wealth and land, but you didn’t know him.

You sighed to yourself as you arrived at the Bridgerton household, the door opening not long after you had knocked. Mrs Wilson stood there with a warm smile, inviting you inside almost immediately before announcing to Eloise that she had a visitor.

Your best friend soon made her appearance, walking down the staircase — presumably having come from her bedroom. Her smile faded quickly after she saw the devastation on your face.

“What has happened?” she asked, walking over to where you stood in the entranceway. The tears came back to your eyes, the corners stinging as your soon-to-be reality hit you once again.

“I am to be wed, and to a man I do not even know,” you cried, sniffling as the tears flowed freely, collecting at your chin before falling.

“What?”

“My parents, they have arranged it all. I have had no say.”

Eloise’s heart broke for you. She knew you had always wanted a love match, someone who cared for you as deeply as you did them. You had always spoken highly of the romance books you carried in your hands, it being a dream of yours to experience a love like the characters you read about.

Stepping forward, Eloise brought you into her arms for a hug. She wasn’t usually one for physical touch, though knew you needed it. You appreciated her sentiment, a silent way of letting you know she was there for you.

You cried into her shoulder, cheeks growing red. You sniffled and pulled away, a small smile on your face. “I’m sorry for intruding on your day,” you said, a small, humourless chuckle leaving your lips.

“You could never intrude.”

“Miss Y/N?” You turned your head to the side, eyes landing on Eloise’s older brother, Colin. “May I have a word?”

You glanced back at your friend, the girl giving you a smile before walking in the direction of the living room. You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand as you turned to him, a forced smile upon your lips.

You’d always believed Colin to be attractive, his strong features had become soft in your eyes. His facial features were heaven to your heart and soul, but none was more soft and vibrant than his mouth. You could be so happily mesmerised by those lips for all the days heaven granted you to come. His blue eyes were ocean-strong, swimming with warm sunlit currents and infinite hues illuminated by newborn light.

“Hello, Mister Bridgerton,” you greeted politely, and he grinned.

“I am sure we are past formalities by now, Y/N/N.” Your cheeks turned redder, glancing down bashfully. “It was unintentional, but I overheard your conversation with my sister.”

You sighed quietly to yourself, wishing a hole would form below and swallow you. “Yes… I’m afraid I shall soon be Lady Vincent Howard.”

“Not unless you become Mrs Bridgerton.” Your head shot up, eyes moving to look into his, searching for an explanation. Colin smiled, softly breathing out through his nose. “This is not the way I imagined this to go, but…”

“What are you saying?”

“Your existence redefined poetry for me. Everything you embody has become the meaning of art to my eyes,” Colin began, taking your hands in his. “My heart is an entire forest, and you have carved your initial into every tree. When I see you, it's as if my universe begins and ends with you. I could run forever, search forever, but in the end, every path leads right back to you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes once again, though not out of sadness. You had never heard such kind words, let alone been the object of their affection. “Colin-”

“I am in love with you,” he interrupted, placing your hands against his chest, keeping his gentle hold on them. “And if you even feel even the slightest bit of what I feel for you, then I would believe myself to be the luckiest man in the world.”

Letting go of your hands, Colin got down on one knee. You gasped, covering your mouth in shock. You had never expected to see the man you’d had feelings for, for several years on one knee, proposing to you and asking you to be his.

“I do not yet have a ring, but… Y/N/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

You nodded, too surprised by the situation to say anything. Happy tears flowed freely, trailing down your rosy cheeks like a waterfall, and a large smile made its way onto your face.

Colin grinned, standing and placing his hands on your waist. “I love you,” you told him, your new fiancé bringing a hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb against it to wipe away the fallen tears.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered, eyes glancing down to your lips.

You didn’t verbally reply, instead choosing to press your lips to his as your answer. It was heaven to finally kiss him, to touch him in a way you had always dreamed of.

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his. You laughed together, your fingertips dancing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

Your broken heart had been fixed, and all because of Colin Bridgerton.

#agxxb #colin bridgerton fluff #colin bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff

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ughdontbeboring · 1 day

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hidden.

Feyd x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone tho)

you and Feyd have this thing and it can never be more.

warnings: Feyd bc let’s be real, smut, a little degradation, breeding kink

note: I love feyd, don’t know if I did him justice at all BUT the need to write him just won’t leave me be. I have a few others in the works so let’s see how it goes. Also no proofread, it’s late and I’m horny so yea.

No description of ethnicity but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.

if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this but you just can’t help yourself. In all honesty how could you be expected to control yourself and behave like a lady of a great house when HE exists, when he was fucking you completely stupid against this cold wall in a darken slightly hidden hallway in the fortress.

You were extremely thankful this meeting of the great houses was taking place on Giedi Prime because not a living soul on this planet would dare speak of seeing the sight that the two of you made. Completely lost in each other, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked into you with a desperate need, his muscular ass on display, your face full of pleasure as he bite love marks into your chest where your breast were fully exposed - because he knows there’s less chance of anyone seeing and he only even thinks of that for you and your honor - His plump lips pulling a nipple into his soft wet mouth to suck making you cry out.

Even your handmaids could be sent away and wait where they wouldn’t be spotted without you because he could do so on his own home planet though he probably could manage it on any planet he was that feared. You were lucky enough to sway your father to let you bring the only two you knew you could trust.

You could hardly keep your thoughts together when a particularly hard slow thrust made you scream out. You knew you were caught letting your mind wonder.

He tsked against your ear, his blacken teeth nipping the lobe before his tongue flicked it.

“Am I boring you my lady?” His deep raspy voice questioned in the deathly quiet hallway.

“No my love, know s-sometimes can’t help it” You answered breathlessly as you pulled your head back, your hand cradling his cheek as your eyes finally found each others.

Sometimes you got too caught in your thoughts and worries about being found, something he didn’t like. He was the kind of man that didn’t like anything to take your attention away from him and with the limited time your both able to find to be together he demanded you were fully present with him at all times and if not he’d have to bring that pretty little mind of yours back to the situation at hand.

He smirked, it was then you realized he had pulled out. The empty feeling sitting in.

“Then let me help you”

Before you could respond his thick long cock was pushing past your sensitive lips and burying its self deep within you to the hilt. You choked on your own scream as his pelvis pulled back and snapped forward with another hard thrust. You felt every veiny inch of him within your slick tight walls.

“Oh fuck” you moaned eyes rolling back as he continued his short brutal thrusts “oh Feyd, please”.

“Please what?” His deep voice mocked.

“Please, please wanna cum” you mumbled hardly getting the words out as your head fell backwards into the wall.

“Would you let me fuck you like this in front of all of them? In front of him?” He mocked some more, the “him” carrying the hatred you knew he had for the man he viewed as weak that your father had promised you to.

“Oh god yes! ‘M all yours!” You yelled desperately, pinned to the wall like decor, a fine piece of art as he drove his cock into you at that tortuous pace. It was hard, slow and deep.

His large rough callous hands which were somehow still soft held your bare ass under your dress to keep you in place as he fucked you. His fingers tips gripped you so tight you were sure there would be bruising.

“Let him see how wet I make you? How my pretty girl screams for me? Begging for my cock?” He rasped as his eyes bore into yours, your faces were so close at this point your sure you both were just breathing in eachothers breaths.

Your tight walls clenched even harder on his throbbing cock causing him to falter slightly, his hips needing a split second to get back into rhythm.

“Fuck!” He roared in that unique tone of his, “Look at you getting wet like a whore” he spat at you, though there was no malice.

“Getting fucking wet when I talk about fucking you in front of him, is that what you want? Want him and the whole known universe to know that you belong to me? That you belong to na-Baron Feyd Rutha Harkonnen? Know how well you take my cock?” He gritted, the look of pure possessiveness in his blue eyes as his nostrils flared, his full bottom lip being pulled between his teeth.

You couldn’t help the tears that sprung, and your nails that dug into his back no doubt breaking skin, you heard the hiss pass through his lips at the pleasure of it but he was just fucking you so good, splitting you wide open on his cock and saying the most nastiness things a lady of a great house should never hear. He was speaking to you a way no one would ever dare and it was driving crazy you like he knows it always does.

“Y-yes! Wan’ them all to know!” You moaned as your shaky breath washed over his full lips. You closed the small space and took his mouth upon yours, his opening immediately to take dominance over your tongue. The kiss was just as messy and sloppy as the fucking currently happening in a hallway anyone could walk down. Yet you couldn’t care less because of the pure ecstasy he was making you feel and because you knew Feyd would kill anyone stupid enough to walk this way, let along gaze upon you in this state.

The rest of the world may have not knew but those here did and they knew better than to ever speak on it.

Here they all know you belong to Feyd and that made your heart soar because you’d give anything for all to know.

“Fuck pretty girl” he groaned against your wet mouth, “You’re dripping down my balls, my fucking thighs are wet with you”.

His words just made you moan louder.

“Go head, cum for me, let go my pretty little pet” he rasped.

The scream that tore through you should make you embarrassed how much you sounded like a common whore but nothing in you could muster a care in the world. Feyd was worth everything. Worth getting caught, worth the embarrassment on your family, worth whatever came with being found out.

Your body shook as the force of your orgasm pushed Feyd’s cock out, momentarily catching him off guard before the loss of your heat and your desperate whine at the action caused him to snap back in action and drive his cock back in til he was brushing your cervix.

Your body continued to shake as your pussy claimed his cock in a vice grip and your eyes rolled back, your mouth hanging open with some slight drool down the corner. Everything about the moment sent a chill down Feyd’s spine as his balls drew tight and his cock swelled, the release of his cum shooting into your warmth and drenching your walls with his thick seed.

How Feyd wished more then anything you both could allowed it to take, the thought of you claimed in that way, round with his child caused Feyd release to prolong. A groan ripping through his chest, as his cock continued to spurt his cum into your warm haven. Desperate to see you round, full of him.

“Fuck!”

Your hands guided his head as you brought him in for an embrace. Your faces pressed together.

The both of you stayed that way for awhile. Deep breathing slowly coming to a normal pace as the mixture from both your releases cooled on each of your thighs.

He slowly pulled out his soften cock as you verbally mourned the loss.

Feyd helped you fix yourself before slipping his cock back into his pants and pulling them back over his hips. He hadn’t pull them down far to begin with with the rush you both were in. Just enough to get his impressive cock out.

“Did you mean it?” He asked catching you off guard with the softness and vulnerability of his deep raspy tone.

You searched his handsome face looking for an answer before it hit you. You fought back the tears that threaten to fall. The sadness that washed over you you wished wasn’t the reality.

“Of course, more than anything but we both know it would never happen Feyd. I am already betrothed” you remind him. “My father will not reconsider, not while house Fenring has offered so much and he still carry’s hatred for the Baron”.

Feyd didn’t seem surprised at your statement, it was the truth you both knew. He just seemed to be contemplating and that worried you. You didn’t want him to do anything that would get himself into trouble.

It was two long days later when you got to see Feyd again, this time in the arena. You don’t understand how it all happened because it had happened so quickly.

You were sitting up in the guest seats watching with a few the other young lady’s of great houses, gossiping about Feyds skill and brutality with the rest of your respective families when Feyd had just finished his slaughter. He stood there proud after taking off his shield and finishing in an even more entertaining way when all realized some of the slaves weren’t drugged.

He raised a single fist as the roar from the area slowly came to a stop. A servant rushed to him handing over something. You sat watching with all wondering what was happening since this wasn’t customary for the end of the fight.

“What is the na-Baron up to?” One of the lords from the other houses asked as everyone watched.

Your heart raced as you watched through your glasses as he brought a mic up to his mouth. He smirked before announcing his challenge to the young lord of house Fenring for your hand in marriage.

You could swear he looked directly up at you high in the sky above him smirking before he cut his palm, made a fist and pounded his chest in a salute of ultimate respect. The stunned crowed of Giedi Prime following their beloved na-Baron. The sound was deafening. Your breathing stopped as you heard all the gasps around you. The young lady’s grasping at you asking a million questions as your father and Lord Fenring jumped to their feet yelling their rage at the disrespect of the young na-Baron. For they understood things were different here and just like the na-Baron was currently explaining on Giedi Prime his challenge must be accepted by the young lord himself and he would not be able to choose a fighter instead where the laws of marriage was considered. It was fight to the death or be shamed and seen as weak. Which on Giedi Prime was seen as the worst fate. To refuse meant House Harkkonen would refuse to acknowledge House Fenring because of their weakness. All deals and trade voided.

You couldn’t slow your breathing as you leaned on the railing watching him watching you. You could hear the commotion around you and the young lord Fenring fighting with his father over his acceptance before making his way out the room. Hope bloomed in your chest, you knew your father could not refuse a display like this. Such an open declaration of love, of ownership. You were his and he would fight to the death to make it so in all ways.

It wasn’t long before you seen doors on the stadium floor beginning to open. And Feyd’s smirk turned into a monstrous smile full of blackened teeth. You were his and it was time all knew. Giedi Prime would finally have their na-Baroness.

#feyd #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #Feyd x yn #feyd rautha x you #Feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x yn #feyd smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #dune fanfiction #dune 2 #Ughwrites #Ughfeyd

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hatakemrs · 14 hours

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I'm having his baby!!ft. Gojo Satoru

Characters: Gojo Satoru X reader Based on Taylor Swift's song "But Daddy I love him"

Warnings: Cuss words and a lil suggestive at the end.

More Gojo as Taylor Swift songs:

You Belong With Me Enchanted

"I'm having his baby.", You said it casually to the 3 teenagers standing before you.

There was a moment of silence before they all screeched in unison, " WHAT?!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y/N SENSEI?"

*YOU'RE PREGNANT?"

"YOU ARE HAVING GOJO-SENSEI'S CHILD?"

Yuji and Nobara bombarded you with questions while Megumi stood there, questioning his existence.

" That's kinda gross.", Yuji made a face then quickly corrected himself.

"I- I don't mean the baby, I- I- you know to know you and sensei did it-"

Nobara slapped Yuji on his head forcing him to stop.

You stood there holding your laugh while the students started to bicker among themselves. You were going to tell them It's a prank but then came your husband.

"Yoo what's going on?"Gojo waved his hand as he greeted his students.

" YOU." Nobara pointed at him accusingly.

"What? I didn't even do anything. Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

"You didn't tell us Y/n-sensei is pregnant.", Megumi pointed out.

" Y/N IS WHAT?"

"Oh shit he didn't know either.", The three of them thought.

Gojo now turned to face you, horror in his face

" Love why- why didn't you tell me? You- you told our students first but not me? Did I do something wrong?"

God you forgot how much of a dramatic person your husband is.

"Satoru, listen it's not like that.I just-", you were cut off by the second year students.

" Hey guys, what are you doing here?",Panda asked.

"Y/n sensei is pregnant and she didn't tell Gojo sensei-", Yuji received another hit from Nobara as he said this.

" WHAT?"

"TAKANA?"

"I think you guys should talk about this in private-", Maki stared at the two of you, throwing a disgusted look at Satoru.

"GUYS!" I'M NOT PREGNANT", You finally managed to speak over the commotion.

"HUH?

"I'm not pregnant. But you all should see your faces.", You let out a laugh after watching their confused expression.

" Why would you say that then?"Megumi asked.

"It was a prank, guys. I heard this lyric in a Taylor Swift song so I decided to prank you three. Didn't know it would lead to this. It was still funny though."

"You two are really made for each other.", Yuta said with a sigh.

"Tuna Mayo", Inumaki nodded his head.

Gojo was silent among all this. You could tell he was thinking of something.

After all the students went away, he hugged you from the back.

" You know I was so happy when I thought you were pregnant.", Gojo pouted.

"I'm sorry love, didn't think you would be a part of this joke too."

*You owe me an apology, you know right?", he whispered in your ear.

*Okkk and what do you want me to do?"

"Make your prank a reality."

You blushed hard understanding what he meant. "Satoru, we are at work now!Don't say things like that", you scolded him

He smirked, " You started this love, don't back out on me now."

"See you tonight", he winked as he left you standing there being a blushing mess.

A/n: Thank you for reading<3

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aleskyyy · 2 days

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Redamancy I — Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

When you think no one will love you anymore because of your current condition, you are faced with a reality that is completely opposite to what you think.

Warnings — AU where voldy no nose doesn't exist, fem!muggle!reader, blind!reader, poly!marauders, james and sirius being an idiot, remus always right, etc.

1,1k words.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

You sit quietly while drinking the hot tea you ordered. You close your eyes for a moment and open them again then stare ahead with a hint of a smile on your lips. The slight breeze makes your hair loose which makes you have to smooth it more often. The risk of choosing to sit outdoors.

Unbeknownst to you, your gaze falls on the table across from you. A table containing three people with very attractive looks. One of them accidentally looked into your eyes. He adjusts the glasses he's wearing a little, his hair that looks messy as the wind blows it away.

He tilts his head slightly as your gaze doesn't leave them. Not long after, the boy with his hair tied in a man bun turned his head towards his best friend's gaze. His mouth opens slightly when he sees you who was tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I think I found my future wife," he said with a grin.

"She was looking at me, not you padfoot! She must be like me," said the boy with glasses on his face.

"No, she was looking at me! Look! She's smiling at me. Even though I hate my family, I'm getting good genes from the Black," he said with a cocky smile. His eyes alternately looked at you and his best friend.

Their argument made the last boy at the table let out a rude sigh. The boy closed the book he was reading roughly and looked up to stare at his two friends.

"I have agreed to your request to have breakfast at a muggle restaurant. Now what are you two arguing about?" he asked in a composed tone.

"Padfoot doesn't accept the fact that there's someone who likes me!" said the boy with the glasses furiously.

The boy who tied his hair in a man bun glared at his best friend. "Are you blind? She's clearly looking at me."

The boy who was reading the book sighed under his breath, trying to be patient with his two friends. His handsome face with scars on it looked very tired. He rubbed his face then turned his head towards the table that his best friend was pointing at.

His eyes met your gaze which made him freeze for a moment. Beautiful, you are very beautiful in the pale yellow sundress you are wearing. The sunlight hits your face which makes you look radiant. He sighed, no wonder you liked one of his best friends. They were handsome boys, unlike him who was hideous. Like a monster.

Before he could look away, his eyes caught a black stick that was right beside your chair. Her eyes returned to yours, which were still fixed on them. You don't know that. You didn't know that your gaze fell on them, if you did you would have felt embarrassed if you knew you were staring at strangers.

The boy glanced quickly at his two friends while pointing at their faces with his pointer finger. His eyebrows were raised with a serious face.

"James. Sirius. Will you two shut up?" He asked in an annoyed tone.

The boy wearing glasses, James, looked at his friend with a confused look. Meanwhile, Sirius who wanted to speak immediately closed his mouth when he saw his friend staring at him sharply.

"Didn't you see that the girl was not intentionally looking at you? Try to pay attention to the surroundings, after that you can shut up because she doesn't like you two," he said then drank his tea.

James and Sirius followed their friend's advice. Then they saw the same black stick that their friend had seen before. Finally they understood what their friend had said to them.

"It turns out Remus was right," James said with an awkward smile.

"Shit, this is the first time I'm ashamed of my confidence," said Sirius, covering his face.

Remus could only sigh softly. And then he heard a very soft voice in his ear, he turned his head and found you talking to a man who looked older than you with a happy smile on your face. You finished your tea then accepted the man's hand and took your stick. The man hugged your shoulder protectively as he led you out of the restaurant.

Before opening the door, the man you were with turned his head towards the table he and his friend were occupying. His eyes caught Remus' gaze, without doing anything the man continued his steps with you in his arms. Remus let out another long sigh. He looked at his two best friends who were also staring in the direction you had gone.

"And it looks like she already has a boyfriend," he said to his two best friends.

Remus opened the book he was reading earlier. His eyes tried to catch the words printed in the book, but his brain was recording what had just happened. His brain replayed your face that looked so stunning in the sunlight. Your hair flowing in the wind.

Remus didn't know what he was feeling. His heart felt hollow. He looked at his two best friends and saw them talking about what kind of traps they would set when they returned to Hogwarts for the first years.

Remus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. His head looked up to expose his neck. The image of your face was still playing in his head. Remus let out a rough sigh that made James and Sirius stare at him cluelessly.

"Finish your food and drink. We'll go to the automotive store that Sirius wants after this," Remus said which made Sirius cheer up happily.

James just nodded and finished the breakfast he ordered. He had already exchanged a lot of his savings for shopping in the muggle world, so he would ask Remus to take him wherever he wanted.

Meanwhile, outside the restaurant you sit in the passenger seat of your brother's car. Soon you hear the sound of his door opening and feel him sitting in the driver's seat. You smile at him.

"Thank you for taking me here, it's been a while since I've been out of the house," you tell him.

He just smiled as he stroked your hair. He sees you staring at the window even though he knows you won't be able to see anything. But he's very grateful for your bright attitude despite your flaws.

"So where else are we going?" he asks you. Asking for time off from work to accompany you wherever you want is a nice thing for him.

"I think I'd like to try painting again," you reply excitedly.

Your brothers are silent for a moment, he looks at you who looks happy to return to your hobby.

"Okay, whatever you want."

You know it won't be easy for you to start your hobby again under these circumstances, but what's the harm in trying. After all, you've tried closing your eyes while painting even though the results were not perfect. But this time you will try harder.

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james fleamont potter #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius orion black #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus john lupin #marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

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genericpuff · 1 day

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hi, i know the episode came out weeks ago, but i wanted to talk about ep 277 and your essay on it. i thought it was very well thought out and had brought up lots of concerns abt apollo's other victims and the harm persephone caused to others that i just. hadn't really thought about myself because honestly this webcomic is a BLUR to me LOL. thank you for writing these insights and putting them online for others to read ! i think you manage to keep a respectful distance to rachel [1/]

Yeah, regarding how the SA was handled...

I think Rachel did exactly as well as anyone might have expected someone like her to write a plotline like that.

Honestly if Rachel really did want to do the arrow thing, I think it would have worked WAY better if she had used the arrow of hate. First of all, because it had already been established back in S2 when it was shot at him by Psyche, but ALSO because making it an arrow of love confirmed that Eros literally did what Apollo asked despite the fact that he's Persephone's best friend and should have been more suspicious of what he was going to use it for. Why not just do a bait & switch where Apollo is under the impression that it's an arrow of love but Persephone trusts in her friend and pieces it together that it's probably an arrow of hate? It would also payoff the whole "news crew being nearby" thing (as well as all the other gods that just randomly showed up) because uh oh now they all see his true nature and he can't hide behind his lies anymore!

After all, as I mentioned in my previous post about this (the one I believe you're referring to) it's not like there wasn't already foreshadowing that Apollo was going to fall on his own sword the way of Mr Waternoose from Monster's Inc, he was already showing signs of cracking under the guilt that he was feeling towards how he treated Persephone/Eris/Hermes/etc. so why did it have to be Persephone taking a massive risk by sticking him with an arrow of love that still doesn't fully explain why he would even suddenly be a changed man? Loads of people like Apollo think they're in love / define their infatuation as love so I don't see how an arrow of love would suddenly make him empathetic to her pain. Especially when, again, he still begs her not to make him confess, so the guilt he's feeling is still completely empty and unmotivated.

I will leave this with one final thing that I saw the other day that very much reminded me of the Apollo SA plotline and I think it rings very true for the misdirected conclusion of the plot itself:

One of the biggest issues of the Apollo SA plotline, at least in my opinion, is that it never really gets to the root of why people like Apollo exist. There absolutely were strong foundations for this - he's the son of a guy who's known for being a serial cheater, he's popular and egotistical and is used to women wanting him, etc. - but all of those foundations kind of fell to the wayside in favor of turning Apollo into just another boogeyman, especially to lift Hades up as a "good man" by comparison (when Hades himself also falls on this spectrum). But many people like Apollo aren't just random guys in an alleyway or conspiring with some "higher power" that's manipulating them, they're men who fundamentally do not understand consent and assault on the varying spectrums in which it exists from "SA just exists, oh well" passiveness to "I'm an actual monster who gets pleasure out of victimizing women" aggressiveness. I think there's a lot to discuss about how people like Apollo exist WITHOUT sympathizing with them, but LO manages to do neither - not only does it give us uncomfortable and unnecessary looks into the rapist's POV more than we get the victims, but it does it in a way that doesn't actually address the issue of how people like Apollo come to be, it's just "Apollo is the big evil boogeyman who raped Persephone". Not only does it not actually put enough focus on the victims, but it reduces the societal and cultural complexities of where Apollo's brand of egotistical entitlement comes from to just "some guys just be evil like that". Guys like Apollo don't just come out of the womb like that, they're often shaped into what they are by a society that both excuses them for awful behavior towards girls ("Boys will be boys!") and enables - if not outright encourages - them to objectify women as trophies that they're entitled to. Even the seemingly innocent and sentimental practice of "giving away a bride" at a wedding is rooted in these patriarchal systems, with the belief that a woman first "belongs" to her father before being "given to" her husband.

It's the part of feminism that often gets overlooked - it's not just about uplifting female voices and helping survivors speak up about and heal from SA, it's also about deconstructing and challenging the patriarchal systems that lead to SA victims being created in the first place. Sure, Apollo got sentenced to building temples in the Mortal Realm, but what is that actually doing to address the bigger topic of how men like him come to exist in the first place? Especially when it was also treated as a good thing for TGOEM to be disbanded, instead of, idk... reworking it into a women's support group for survivors like Persephone?

IDK, it's a very complicated subject that you can approach from a million different angles, I don't think that my criticizing it should outweigh the opinions of those who were satisfied with the punishment that was given to Apollo (my saying the SA plotline sucked doesn't mean you're not allowed to find your own validation in it) but I do think that, at best, Rachel ended the SA plotline the only way she could because she herself is just not equipped to tackle such broad subjects that require a lot more education, experience, and nuance than what she's capable of writing. There are definitely 1298423108 better ways that plotline could have been resolved, but not with Rachel Smythe at the helm.

And that's my many cents on that.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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sunboki · 13 hours

Text

— BRIGHTER PLACES. a Lee Felix fiction

Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader

TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out, reader is used by her boss, felix is the biggest sweetheart to exist

AUG'S NOTES. was intended to be posted much earlier than this but i’m still glad that, with life being so busy, i managed to finish it! this piece is only the start of many emotional pieces over the summer so stay tuned please! hopefully you enjoy 🫶🏼

SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.

or alternatively :

Eventually, the sun will shine again.

Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.

Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.

However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.

You just weren’t aware yet.

At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.

When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.

The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.

Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.

Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.

Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.

Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.

Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.

That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.

“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.

Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.

Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.

Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.

Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.

And the recoil stings.

“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.

She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.

Lee’s Baking Class.

Lee. The name sounds familiar.

Awkward. Everybody has their awkward moments, but you’re certain this one takes the cake.

The entirety of the class had fallen still, engulfed in a silence you can feel gathering in your chest, sending nausea building like bile in your throat.

His brown eyes merely blink, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

Lee Felix’s brown eyes, shining like muddy globes, seem to encapsulate every ounce of affection. Affection you once had for him, affection you refuse to unearth if it costs your life.

Perhaps that's the stem of the awkwardness—harbored feelings.

How awful.

Just your luck.

“Y/N?”

It even sounds worse falling from his lips. Sweet, just like he is, Felix is.

Felix has always been sweet, always inviting. Seems you accepted without realizing you were never invited to the party.

Staring like a deer caught in headlights, it takes the man clearing his throat for you to acknowledge your position.

“You can uh, find a seat if you’d like?”

‘You can shoot me if you’d like’ you think, very much grateful mind readers don’t exist.

Nodding profusely and scurrying to the nearest table out of the four aligned throughout the room, you find yourself paired with three elderly ladies who quarrel in rabid conversation about baking powder—though it doesn’t bother you, the frenzied chatter leaves leeway to think.

As memorable as the treehouse was, it was also memorable for.. Other reasons as well. One reason in particular being that it wasn’t always just you reading and daydreaming up there, but Lee Felix too.

Since primary school the two of you had been conjoined at the hip. Between friendly rivalries and the fact he was your neighbor, there wasn’t a two day period you weren’t together.

And with that, came a crush.

But it was different with Felix, different because just as you’d been conjoined to the hip as friends, this time, you were still conjoined, but he was your crush.

And it’s a whole lot easier playing off a crush when you aren’t with them 24/7.

Before you knew it, you had fallen head over heels in love. To a degree you realized you can’t, can’t do what you’ve always done, can’t pretend your feelings are nonexistent any longer.

So you fled.

The moment high school began, you located the furthest place available and begged your parents to let you attend. It wasn’t that you hated Felix, more than anything you hated yourself for falling in love–not that it could be helped.

No matter how illogical you deemed it, your heart would prove stronger. Maybe that was your epitome.

Your number one priority had been avoiding him thus far, and you thought you were doing a pretty decent job at it, using the excuse that high school offered better opportunities to mask your internal guilt, and staying on that side of the city when you graduated.

Nonetheless, it seems the effort was in vain, especially now that you’re facing him again.

No. You refuse to dwell on the past, not when you’ve made it this far.

In front of you sits all the necessary utensils. Measuring cups and spoons, coordinating bowls, and the ingredients included as well.

Thank goodness for that, you were scared you’d mess up and Felix would have to step in. Plus, the rules of this game came easy. Participate without contact and leave with a sweet treat in hand.

Except, you’re quick to understand those rules of the game may only apply in your case by the gaze boring into your back.

Great.

“I didn’t anticipate a young lady being so aggressive,” A voice to your right piques, surveying the furious manner in which you’re cracking an egg into the bowl.

Delivering a small smile and claiming you’re simply absorbed in your work, collective laughter sounds from the older women in response.

Taking a thirty minute break while the dough chills, you welcome conversation with anybody and everybody, attempting to evade the blond’s attempt at reaching out.

Way to be a jerk, Y/N.

But, in the end, avoidance is the right course of action.

You can’t afford love, you’re too broke already as a student.

During the times he isn’t circulating, you spare periodic glances, marveling at those charming features of his, still the same as when you were younger but slightly more mature, sharper. Effortlessly kissable raspberry-tinged lips purse when he explains things, helping the participants knead dough with ring-clad fingers. That one’s new: rings.

The third time, you were caught, panickedly looking away as if an accident.

“Y/N I–”

Speeding past while pretending to be occupied with checking the refrigerator holding your table’s donuts, his words become choked watching as you flee in the other direction, hand returning to his side where it extended to you.

You manage to survive the last few minutes unscathed, awaiting the sugary goodness lying just below your fingertips after hastily nodding to Felix in thanks and following the remainder of the class outside.

Success.

Or, whilst fetching your keys and finding where you had parked your car, so you thought.

Steam billows from your car's hood, refusing to even turn on while individuals alike grant you pitying simpers and continue on their exit.

Spoke too soon.

Even worse, your instructor, the man you thought you could run from after all, happens to walk out at that moment, witnessing your real-time destruction.

Not a success.

This was utter failure at the highest degree.

“So.. How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s college?”

“Fine. ..And you?’

How you ended up in Lee Felix’s passenger seat is beyond you.

Well, not really. You just hate admitting you took the ride home he offered after your car broke down in the parking lot. In your defense, according to him, he already had to drop by the grocery store nearby.

It’s like an interrogation, your replies quick and unenthusiastic, his unwavering in enthusiasm, unyielding to the coldness you’re giving him.

Like you said, it wasn’t your intention hurting his feelings, nor being spiteful or brash. It was your coping mechanism.

This is how you got over him, or, how you’d like to say you got over him.

“Pretty busy, but I’m managing. How about you? I couldn’t get in contact, but I’m sure you got tons of offers, yeah?”

Seeing his face again didn’t help with the “getting over” part.

..Or the guilt at the “no contact” part either.

“Easy for you to say, you’re the successful one who got scouted by a culinary arts school.” The remark coming out spiteful, you scorn yourself.

That’s another thing. Lee Felix is totally out of your league.

He’ll always be number one, and you’ll always be second place. And not in an inferiority complex way, but in an honest way.

Felix chased his dreams to the end of the earth and got what he deserved out of it, and you thought you were doing the same, only to realize you were chasing him instead and leaving your own aspirations behind.

But that’s on you, not him, and you’ll likely spend the rest of your life wondering how you became so enamored in the first place.

Of course he wears that tear-worthy frown, periodically directing his attention to you while driving, face filled with overflowing concern.

How could anybody not fall in love with him?

“Y/N, you know that’s not true. I may have been scouted, but that doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. We’ve all worked hard to get where we are now, you included.”

Curse how weak you are for him. Why should he reassure you? You’re the prick that left him after countless years together, why is he consoling you?

Easy. He’s Felix.

Before anything else, he’s loving. Felix is the embodiment of love in an individual. He’s self-sacrificing (a trait you swear Chan gave to him), caring, and the most unbearably adorable mother-hen.

And you’re not even close to getting over him.

Street names pass in a blur, leaving a lengthy silence to consume the drive. You distract yourself with a flickering traffic light in need of fixing, watching the man’s finger tap against the wheel to a song on the radio in your peripheral before he speaks again.

“..Do you still talk to Chris?”

His voice, a pleasing baritone now that he speaks slowly, surprises you for a moment.

“Yep.”

Even then you refuse to turn toward him, coming to a halt at a stop sign and simultaneously dreading the manner in which he dips his head lower.

“Hey.. Are you okay?”

You feel like throwing up.

“During the class you–”

“My stop is here.”

The words come out before you can comprehend them, too worried about distancing yourself to care that this is in fact not your stop and a random street instead.

Though hesitantly, he pulls the vehicle to the side.

“But there’s no houses nearby–”

“No, this is perfect,” You pitch, quickly unbuckling and opening up the door. “Thank you, Felix.”

Oh how you wish you never said that, wish you never made eye contact.

He makes you want to scream and cry and dig up all those stupid feeling’s you’d buried in the ground.

Pulling your clothing closer to your body as the evening cools, you grace him a ghost of a smile, shutting the car door and hurrying down the sidewalk while feebly attempting to locate how far your place would be from here.

Yet, he doesn’t drive past you.

Evidently unconvinced but failing to say it aloud, you fight off the warmth heating your face as his car rolls right beside you, following your hasty footsteps while walking.

“Are you sure this is your stop? It’s getting cold!” He shouts, leaning over from his seat to regard you.

This is it. When you had sworn your embarrassment couldn't get any more pathetic.

“I.. I’m fine! Just go!” You shout back, arms waving haphazardly like an embarrassed middle schooler until he finally (and begrudgingly) steers ahead of you, car disappearing in the distance.

At least that’s over.

And yet, it feels like it’s just the beginning. You simply can’t explain why.

However, your main focus remains upon getting to safety. Safety being home.

The word has never sounded this pleasing before now.

So after thirty minutes running in circles to find your complex, you’re granted that much wanted safety, snuggled up in your cushions and turning on a show with evident delight in the mismatched pair of pajama pants and a hole-scattered top hanging off your shoulder.

No more Felix thinking, it’s time to relax.

What a joy.

Well, before your bottomless Pringle’s can abruptly spawns a bottom, hand frantically scurrying in search for more to no avail.

This is the peak of your show! How could someone possibly imagine viewing the climax without coordinating snacks?

And just when you thought you had ultimately settled, you’re thrown into a torrential debate, one that, after much contemplation (and pacing) across the cold tile of your kitchen, sends you huffing and puffing to the nearest convenience store.

Slipping past the sliding doors toward the designated aisle, you had yet to realize who else was roaming around the store.

A peculiar blond being that someone else.

It’s when you turn the corner to check out that you practically ram into each other, fear striking every fiber of your being, his eyes equally wide, but more puzzled than terrified—unlike you.

“Besides, I need to run to the grocery store afterward.”

Crap.

Granted, the probability he lived nearby was likely.

He's not required to stay a 300 meter radius from you anyway, so getting anxious about this shouldn’t be an issue. You’ll simply (hopefully not) say hi and be on your way.

Except, like most endeavors in your life so far, it is an issue.

Because one, you’ve positively blasted your chances of avoidance after the entire car experience (which, frankly, you genuinely debate death because of) and two, he’s.. apparently following you.

Wait, he’s following you?

He, as in: Lee Felix, who ultimately fails at being nonchalant. Walking a few paces behind you, eyes quite obviously trained on your figure.

After your frantic rush past him while darting through self-checkout, the footsteps behind you do little to quell your heart’s rapid pace, only worsening with each passing second.

You aimlessly ignore the sweat oiling your palms, pretending to be occupied with reading a label on your drink, hoping he’ll eventually look away.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he stays right on your tail, enough that while you break into a run through your door, he follows, jarring a foot in the door just as you begin slamming it shut.

Stalker, much?

Wielding the nearest weapon available in a panic, you’re frantic, whacking the unfortunate Pringle’s container with all your might toward the man.

“How.. How are you that fast– Ow! Ow ow- Wait- Y/N-”

Cowering down and covering his head with his arms while you furiously batter the man, it isn’t till a few specific words catch your attention that you stop.

“Your—“ Whack. “Car—“ Whack. “Was finished in the shop!”

Your what?

Hesitantly lowering his arms, Felix wears a sheepish smile, regarding your evidently frazzled, very much frantic appearance.

“For twenty minutes I’ve been trying to tell you.. your car is ready.. in the shop,” He breathes, doubling over with exhaustion.

Meanwhile, you’re still recovering from your own exhaustion. An exhaustion that urged the realization you just beat up your lifelong love interest with a box of Pringles.. who is now in your house.

Lee Felix. In your house.

What a joy.

“....I’m sorry about your head.”

“No, I shouldn’t have intruded like that.”

You cover your face with your hands, wishing nothing more than to melt into a puddle.

“Are you-” He tips his head down, that kindly confused expression of his no help to your pounding heart. “Are you alright?”

Through your wallowing, your ears burn, voice muffled whilst practically drowning in misery.

“Give me a minute, I’m so embarrassed right now.”

It doesn’t help that he laughs afterward. A low, vocal laugh that rumbles in his throat and does little for your mental health.

Placing the discarded can back on a nearby countertop, you jolt when his fingers wrap around your wrists, gently ushering your hands from your face.

“But I was serious about what I said. Y/N, are you okay?”

Oh how tender he refers to you. Careful, quiet. As if too high of a pitch and his voice will shatter the air. You don’t mind.

Because in all honesty, you haven’t been okay. Nothing has been okay. It feels like you’re working, but what for? You’ve lost the sense of purpose from when you graduated, slowly but surely watched your motivation diminish right before your eyes.

And you couldn’t do anything about it.

Chasing your tail in circles, round and around and around again has led you right to what you tried to run from in the first place.

Him; the truth.

And yet, unlike earlier today, you can’t bring yourself to push him away, to ask him to leave. You savor his touch, even if it only lingers on your wrists.

Save me, your skin cries against his grip.

Luckily, Felix joins you in your wavelength, giving you permission to indulge in the abyss of his eyes, fall into the warmth and comfort the past brought in the safety of his arms.

“Felix?” You verbalize, fragmented bits and pieces of life hidden within the words, muffled against the skin of his neck.

You missed Felix, but you’re starting to think you missed his hugs more.

“Yes?”

“I missed you.”

“Really? How much?”

You want to punch his gut, but you can’t will yourself to move.

“Too much.”

He chuckles, carefully pulling away.

“I have to head out, ‘got work early tomorrow. I can drop you off at the dealership when you’re free?”

Yes. This time, you can say yes.

Your feelings will never change from how they always were, especially when it comes to Felix. That’s something you have to accept.

Perhaps tomorrow you’ll get to see him again.

Or perhaps you’ll wake up in your bed in a few seconds and all of this will be a dream.

When he turns his back, you pinch yourself to make sure.

All real.

“Thanks, that’d be great.”

Right before he closes your door, you call out to him again.

“And Felix?”

“Mhm?”

“..Call me when you’re done with work. I’ll pick up this time so… tell me all about those seven years apart.”

At this, he nods—and it’s sort of bittersweet seeing him leave, because this time you know you’ll see him again.

And, though you try, your attempt at sleeping proves useless—caught up in your head after quickly settling in bed, deciding to save everything else for another day.

The ceiling serves as your main muse, eyes unblinking whilst staring upward.

What is Felix doing right now? Your attention flits, scowling to yourself at how much you sound like a clingy girlfriend.

Could you blame yourself though? You’re like a child waiting for Christmas presents. Except, this Christmas you’re unwrapping years upon years of time apart.

Fortunately, after a multitude of hours awake, sleep beckons. And as if a split second later, with the morning sun lighting up your room and stirring you awake do you receive a call.

You planned to ignore and roll over, but it’s a specific someone on your mind that urges you to fetch the device.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’re you up to?”

“Getting away from you,” You groan, pretending not to hear Chris’s chiding that it isn’t healthy to sleep till noon.

And although you were gonna use last night’s experience as an excuse, you decided against it, hoping sooner or later he’d hang up without any more questions.

“Wait.”

Your silence serves as a sign to continue.

“If he’s sleeping next to you right now—”

“No! No Chris what- where did you hear— what?”

Unable to process how he knew about Felix or if he was talking about Felix in the first place, you leave it to the audibly disheveled man to explain himself.

“Look, I can explain. Sana told me she saw Felix go into your house last night, what was that about?”

Curse how Sana lives so close by.

“Well, for the record, Dad, he didn’t sleep over. We just uh, talked, like adults do.”

Chris exhales a baffled guffaw.

“Like adults do? Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“I’m full of surprises, what can I say.”

An additional silence ensues, awkwardly tapping your finger on the mattress.

“We um.. we were catching up.”

The man on the other side of the line grins. You can practically see it through the phone.

“..When you said that, you sounded really happy just now.”

“Huh?”

“When you talked about Felix, you sounded really happy. That’s good.”

You study the ceiling a second time, feeling a small smile and tug at your lips.

“He’s good to keep around y’know.”

Rolling your eyes and adjusting your position to face the window, you stretch your arms over your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You hear the ignition of his car in the distance.

“Whatever you want it to mean,” He chuckles. “I’m glad you got to see him though, I better contact him again now that you mention it, ‘need the Aussies to get together. Call you later?”

“Sure, bye Chris.”

Hanging up and collapsing onto your pillow, you yawn dramatically, gradually rising to your feet to open the blinds.

Then does it register to you this is the most enthusiastic you’ve ever been in a while—especially talking to a Chris—and not intentionally either.

All of which comes down a single name, the one you were reminded to keep around.

Lee Felix.

Picking up your phone, you make another call.

You

I’m on the way

Felix

(Felix liked your message)

I’ll be there as fast as I can!! Sorry, ran out of flour last night 😔

You

It’s all good, what’re you baking?

Felix

Banana cake, want a slice?

You

Yes please!

Redirecting your attention back to the road, you’re careful not to miss the exit this time (as you’ve done endless times in the past).

Almost to the café you planned to eat at with Felix, your phone lights up once more.

Yet, you forgot to check the number—your good mood diminishing instantly.

“Hey Fel—“

“Y/N, I need you in the office.”

Considering this is your boss you’re talking to, you pull into the parking lot, able to see Felix through the window—dressed to an unbearably handsome degree.

“But today is my day off, I don’t clock in on Saturday’s,” Relaying the statement, your eyes narrow at the screen.

“Well you’re going to have to. The office knows how capable you are. we need somebody like you here—we can count on you Y/N.”

You’ve been counting on me, for everything.

That familiar weight settles into your chest, more and more pressure building at a nefarious level. You feel sick to your stomach, wanting nothing more than to drop the call and walk inside into work-free air.

However, you can’t. This job holds you down (in multiple ways), it’s stable, and provides good income—you can’t afford to drop it.

But what are you supposed to say to Felix?

Everything feels too overwhelming at the moment, your lungs feel like exploding, using all your willpower to say something.

“..Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

And you hang up, gripping the steering wheel like a vice.

It’s always like this. The moment you have a good thing, not even a day later everything falls apart.

Never lasts.

You

Sorry, I can’t make it, work called.

Felix

But haven’t you worked a lot this week? Why not take today off?

You

Can’t, see you another time

How selfish, you tell yourself, throwing your phone as far from you as possible.

The moment you get the chance to see him again, he slips out of your fingertips. Or in this case, you let him slip away.

Watching him glance around, delicious slice of banana cake kept in a cute tin in front of him feels heart-wrenching. And you quite literally are the worst person in the world at this very moment.

Each key your fingers press adds to the exhaustion in your bones, growing greater each inhale and exhale your take, eyes scouring the computer screen.

Being in the office is stifling. You’re trapped in a box, a box that shrinks closer and closer every second, caging you in without hopes of escaping.

This is your prison, the jail cell you didn’t realize you’d been stuck in till it was too late.

An entire library of documents pile at the foot of your desk, your head aching incessantly. So once the hour hand strikes 10pm, you trudge out the door, more than happy to be in the safety of your car.

Then you slip, and it all comes crashing down.

As if he read your mind, the one person you’ve been longing for takes over your screen, and your index shakes pressing the green button.

“..Felix.”

The words tumble out, tiny candies filling an already full jar. Too much that the lid can’t even fit on.

“Stay where you are, I’m driving to you right now.”

His response earns a stifled sob, your fist bunching the fabric of your clothing, feebly attempting to calm the incessant beating—seeming to render your lungs with meager air.

No other sentence is spoken even with him on the other line, not until headlights pour over the expanse of your dash—until Felix nearly rips your car door off its hinges to reach you in the driver’s seat.

One hand on your head, the other on your back, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, your second one in three days.

It’s all you need. All you’ve ever needed, actually.

Another heartbeat with yours, your calm before the storm that kept the calm, to know you aren’t alone in your suffering, that you can suffer together.

Ah, you can breathe.

“All these years and you’re still an awful liar.”

You simply squeeze him tighter, the blond’s laughter shaking either of you.

Guess a single taste can lead to addiction.

“I hate crying in front of people,” You sniffle, cringing back after seeing his shirt’s tear-stained fabric.

“Lucky for you,” Felix tuts, gathering your face in his hands, smiling. “I’m not people, just Felix.”

You roll your eyes, swollen condition of your eyes and cheeks not helping the irritable portrayal.

“I’m sorry, Lix, I’m so sorry. I wanted to see you so bad but work called and they keep piling—“

“Shush.”

He presses a finger against your lips.

“For one second, don’t think about work,” He exhales, face pursed in focus, fingers smoothing the crease lines of your brows.

“I know you’ve been overworking yourself. I’m not your best friend for no reason,” Felix sheepishly smiles, hand slipping from by your forehead down to your cheek, stroking the skin there softly.

Again and again, he watches you break.

Then, he picks you up all over again.

“Can you.. can you understand my frustration? It feels like everyone loves their jobs, but in the end, no matter what I do, I’m stuck in this constant cycle of hell. I can’t escape Felix, I can’t escape.”

Your voice dons into that of panic, into an hysterical fit of tears and rapid breathes, only able to focus back on the man before you after he shouts your name for the fourth time.

“Nuh-uh, no crying. The world isn’t ending, so no tears, hm?” Thumbs smoothing the flush of your under-eyes, he pulls you to his chest, hand gently rubbing your back while another cards through your hair.

“..Are you my mom or something?” You croak irritably.

Felix shakes with another bout of laughter.

“No.”

He slightly pushes you back where you can see his face, brows creasing in a focused, serious manner.

“I’m Felix, your best friend, remember? And I don’t want my friend to cry, she has too pretty of a face for that.”

“But what if her world’s ending?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

And the building blocks are stacked once more, barely able to hear his voice amidst your heart, forging itself free of its cage, your ribs.

“Y/N, look at me angel.”

Of course you follow, you know you always will.

“You aren’t required to cater to everybody, you can’t cater to everybody, no matter how hard you try. You’re human, and humans need to do human things, they need to live, experience exciting experiences. That’s how you make the little time we have here worthwhile.”

He tips your chin up, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“So don’t cage yourself up, please. And,” His voice gets cut off, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

Debating, thinking.

“Let me help you fall in love with life again.”

As if I’m not already in love with you.

If only you knew the same thing occurred in his head as well.

Felix drove you home, and for a second, over the span of a week, it seemed as if everything was finally back to normal.

Then you received a call from such a man, on your beloved Sunday afternoon, asking a rather whimsical sort of question you never anticipated.

No, you exaggerated.

“Are you free tonight?”

Oh. Oh.

Staring at the assortment of DVD’s scattered around on your comforter, you act as if you’re oh so busy instead of planning to rot watching Dead Poet’s Society for the thousandth time.

“Uhhh think so, why?”

Felix clears his throat.

“Well, my baking place wants you— no, I want you, no, wait—“

Your heart speeds up at the sudden confession, bursting into laughter as he sputters over his words like a child.

“Will you.. meet me at the bake shop? If you can’t it’s fine I mean I’m sure you’re preoccupied-“

“No!” You shout, not intending to be so loud, shrinking in on yourself. “I mean, no, I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes.”

Well, ten minutes might’ve been a stretch considering how animalistically you lunge at your hamper, sorting through clothing despite being aware Felix has likely seen every single one of your outfits a million times before

Doesn’t help this is pretty much an unofficial date. Or, hopefully those were his intentions.

Regardless, you don’t plan on wasting a chance like this again.

Standing on the sidewalk, hands situated in the pockets of a midnight black jean jacket paired with coordinating slacks is Felix, his face breaking into a smile upon seeing you.

Catching up with the man, you walk by his side, listening to him talk about meeting up with Chris days prior, about business.

It’s comforting, this small talk. And for a second, you swear you never left at all.

“And then I told him Vegemite was obviously the better choice but he…”

Words halting, you look to where his attention had been stolen, finding an old woman lingering outside the shop the two of you planned to enter. She wasn’t one of the ladies you’d seen before in your group.

Cautiously approaching the woman, it takes multiple clears of his throat for Felix to grasp her attention.

“Excuse me Miss?” He offers, allowing the woman to grab his hands with her wrinkled ones, eyes squinted to assess his face. “Would you like some help? I’m the owner of this shop.”

Slowly, a small smile stretches her face upward, wrinkles forming around her mouth like the petals of a flower.

“Why.. Why yes, young man. I’m in need of more brown sugar.”

Felix perks up at the request, and you follow them inside with your own smile, cherishing his warmth, his gentleness.

Leaning against the unmanned reception, you find the longer you stare at him describing each ingredient to the old woman, the greater that feeling in your stomach grows, eyes becoming watery.

Felix, in his loving, patient glory, is the sun.

He casts his rays over your garden, blooming once wilted flowers.

Forever ago, you believed the two of you sat on entirely opposite hemispheres. He received the day, and you, in your unchanging seasons, eternally remained shrouded in night.

Yet, you forgot the earth tilted on an axis for a reason. And, with time, the sun would rise again.

Lamps briefly illuminating the woman’s exit while Felix helps her outside, you wait till he comes back in to speak, staring at the worried way he ensures she safely heads off through the window.

For a moment, it feels like you’re back in the treehouse, gazing at him as if he painted the stars in the sky.

You refuse to let your anxiety get the best of you, not when the one person whose presence you’ve been longing for comes back in your life.

“Felix,” You voice from across the table. He looks back to where you are.

“If I don’t say it now, I doubt I ever will but..I like you. I have liked you, for a really long time actually. More than friends I mean, I like you… more than just a friend.”

He sort of studied you for a moment, and your heart flies up to your throat, rethinking every instance leading to now.

“Took you that long to tell me?” He murmurs, and when you meet his gaze, you note the small grin on his lips, the way honey seems to swirl in the pools of his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting, y’know. For a really long time,” He finishes, donning that sheepish smile whilst walking toward you, an action that causes you to fall stock still.

Leaning forward slightly, his hands clutch your face, planting the lightest of kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, and then your nose, fondly admiring the flush of your skin in the dimly lit room.

“You’re missing something,” You whisper, peeking an eye open.

Felix cocks a bemused brow.

And what is that?”

Without words, you hesitantly tap your lips, and Felix wastes no time, ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible prior to savoring your taste on his tongue, remnants of sugar clinging to his bottom lip, transferring onto yours each time he tips his head.

You hop upon the countertop, beginning to apologize in case you messed up his workspace before being shushed again by his lips, hands frantically searching to hold his face, expression pinched, eyes squeezed shut.

It feels as if your heart may just burst, beating at a deafening rate in your ears.

There must’ve been something in the sugar.

“Lix?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come back over to my place?”

Instantly, his once smugly pleased face dissipates, a hot flush rising up his neck in its place.

“Y..Your place? I mean isn’t it a bit too early to—“

Without elaborating, you drag him off, silencing any of his nervous babbling along the way back to your car.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for either of you to get comfortable.

“..Oh Lix.”

“I can’t- I can’t take it anymore Y/N..”

Sitting beside each other on your mattress, the both of you hold huge containers of popcorn, the newest rendition of “Alien” playing on screen. Felix is coddled in blankets, wincing as the creature gets closer to the girl’s face while you’re already gagging watching the miniature monster crawl out of the bigger one’s mouth.

“This is disgusting!!” He shrieks, hiding his face while you giggle, trying your hardest to watch the grotesque scene.

This is your third movie of the night, and even after years apart, you can still use even slightly thrilling movies to freak him out.

Still entertaining, too.

The longer you stare at him, the greater a fondness seeps into your face, into the lines of your smile, the irises of your eyes.

Months upon months you had been searching for your antidote, ignorant to the fact the antidote in question could be a person.

You hadn’t realized how low you’d gone until you had to be dragged back out again.

A hand reaching out, pulling you up when your legs were too weak to move. Kissing you when the words couldn’t come out of your mouth, holding your hand when you needed support.

Lee Felix, wrapped in your comforter now fast asleep, was your brighter place.

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shuttershocky · 1 day

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Penny for your thoughts about this thread? Just wanna hear some more opinions from people who work in the industry.

I don't want to fucking talk about pricing and monetization and markets and how F2P live service titles have warped the industry beyond recognition anymore.

The insights look good (of course they look good, this guy literally worked with Square Enix) I just can't fucking take it anymore I know what he says before I even finish reading the tweets and it's reminding me of how I started getting into learning game development in 2010-2011? (I don't remember anymore it's been that long) and EVERY SINGLE TALK AND MEETUP AND LECTURE WAS ABOUT MONETIZATION (to be fair, my local industry was a small one that could only really support mobile back then)

I watched all of this happen. I saw how the mobile industry's designs slowly bled out of mobile and into the AAA industry, warping it forever. I was in college when I first learned what minnows, dolphins, and whales were and why your games ought to be fishing for whales. I watched Team Fortress 2 go from a premium game you got all the content at the start to introducing lootboxes (they popularized that shit outside the gacha sphere btw, people blame Overwatch, but TF2 started that trend) to going F2P. I've been an active Dota player since 2012, meaning I was there when the concept of Battlepasses were first birthed into the world during 2013's The International 3 and which made other companies realize live service titles could gain yet another psychological hold on people to add on to World of Warcraft's skinner boxes.

"We are seeing standard singleplayer games no longer able to gain new audiences as they are crowded out by increasingly growing live service titles like Fortnite" "Why would someone spend 60 dollars to play FF16 for 100 hours when they could continue playing Fortnite and Minecraft and Roblox for free where all their friends are"

I have seen all of this before I remember when Overwatch first came out in 2016 a peculiar statistic was that almost every popular title at the time saw their playerbase drop as everyone moved to Overwatch, EXCEPT for Dota 2's because of how hard Valve had captured their audience to the point where they would not play other games. Of fucking course everyone else learned that was actually an incredibly efficient way to make money forever and they should do that too (except Dota was free and had all characters and all game mdoes unlocked for free, but these other games would now ask you for 60 dollars to play as 4 guys with a 100 hr grind for the rest)

I might feel a little unhinged right now because I have worked for two weekends straight and it's a Sunday night (EDIT - put it in drafts and it is now Monday and I am at work) and I'm still at work working on video games and tomorrow will be Monday and another work week working on video games where if we don't sell our upcoming titles my job is toast but fuuuuuuccckkk dude I just wanted to help make things that people would find fun

Capitalism and corporate greed (but I repeat myself) has twisted an industry that was already shitty in the 90s to be something hideous and completely hostile to the idea of creatives being able to make games that are meant to be played, finished, and remembered fondly and even wholly single player one and done experiences like Insomniac's Spider-Man games need to fill themselves up with checklists or else their audience will claim they got ripped off because the time they spent on it was simply not worth the money which STILL happened with Spider-Man 2 anyway

I'm not against live service games as a concept I love seeing a title like Dota get constant support since 2011 (or 2003ish if you want to count the original WC3 mod) and witness it grow and evolve with the times but I hate how it's become increasingly difficult for other games to exist.

I don't actually have a point to make here I'm just rambling. FF7Rebirth was fucking great though (and I hated FF7Remake as a game) so I hope it actually makes its sales target eventually so it doesn't scare Square into adding even more bullshit filler or worse into the 3rd game. I need to play Vincent Valentine with Rebirth's combat system. it's not a want, but a need. A thirst even.

#Locking reblogs because every time I make one of these posts it leaves containment and i get gamers who don't know what theyre talking about

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kinardscoffee · 1 day

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Do you think we’ll get some comforting scene between Buck and Tommy next episode?

Cause, don’t get me wrong, I loved their interaction last episode, but it felt a little bit cold… I would love to see something more feelsy if you know what I mean…

And another thing, did you see the interview with LouF and OS? I’ve read they don’t get along, but I don’t agree, they seemed pretty comfortable around each other…don’t you think?

Hey!!

Pretty sure this ask was about episode 9 but I'm behind so I'll answer it for episode 10.

And I mean, obviously, we're going to get nice scenes between Buck and Tommy. Bobby just had a heart attack and is in what looks to be a medically induced coma, so we'll definitely see Buck at the hospital. Please, Tim, I need a parallel to when Buck was in the coma, and Bobby stayed by his side. With maybe Tommy coming in to check on Buck and see if he needs anything.

We know Tommy is at the hospital, thanks to this bts photo:

So, I'm also manifesting a comforting scene between Buck and Tommy while they wait for the unknown. Maybe a head resting on a shoulder, maybe a hand hold, maybe a knee squeeze... but I'd love something like that.

And, normally, the season finale ends with showing where everyone's at in their lives. So, I'm sure we'll see a domestic scene with Buck and Tommy to indicate they truly are thriving.

As for the interview....

The only people who don't get along with Lou are the people who hate his character's existence.

It's very clear in that interview that they are fine with one another. The conversation flowed well and Oliver could even sense when Lou seemed to feel a little nervous or uncomfortable.

However, there's nothing that says they have to be best friends outside of their scenes. The ones who say that are typically the ones who ship IRL ships, such as Ryliver (Ryan and Oliver)

#911 abc #bucktommy #911 spoilers #911 fandom #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 speculation #anon 🩵

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pocket-deer-boy · 2 days

Text

at a certain point, someone's bigotry towards trans people becomes some kind of science denialism where they have to pretend trans people aren't real for their idea of the world to work. like, have a gander at this infographic

Beyond having no idea who the target audience of this infographic is (this reads as a bit too toony and colorful for the more serious sex ed tone of high school biology classes but is far too textually dense and visually noisy and cluttered for younger kids, so really it just feels like it's made or adults to pass around and nod along to work that tells them exactly what they already believe) It's also full of blatant medical misinformation, and states facts in a way that feels completely angry and bitter towards anyone who believes anything else. Like, no, transphobic lion gender infographic. Men CAN lectate even without any hormonal treatments or being trans. I've seen it personally.

It's also interesting to me how it explains sexuality (among other things) as being these incredibly rigid and inflexible categories. Like oh really, asexuals can't have sex? We can't go into nuances of sexual desire, sexual attraction, sexual pleasure and social expectations to perform sex. Like if you're ace and you did sex and weren't enthusiastic about it and never tried it again i guess you're not ace. The harry potter houses model of sexuality: you are one thing, you fit into this one thing, it prescribes how you're supposed to act instead of using it to describe how you actually exist.

This rigidity also becomes obvious when it talks about intersex people as being these exceptions to the rule that don't have to be counted for how gender and sexuality works. And of course, we have to force intersex people into these binary categories instead of, you know, letting them decide for themselves? And of course it ignores any kind of intersex person with any kind of features that can't be written off as an anomaly and an aberration from the norm. Here we start doing science denialism. Here we start pretending certain people's body features aren't worth discussing for the sake of public knowledge. They're only worth bringing up as anomalies, and not as like, people.

I can't fucking get over how jarring the whole image is actually. Like, the really cheerful cartoon furry lions next to this piece of text prescribing the rigidity of existence. Yeah baby, I love being a strong cool lion boy, I love being told everything I'm not allowed to do or be for the sanctity of my gender!

yeah roar!!!

Here's a little section i wanna do more of a deep dive on

Women have two eggs?? what??? the egg-shapd things in the uterus are not the eggs!!!!! what the fuck are you talking about

This particular part stands out to me. Like, obviously the purpose of this infographic is not to tell you how bodies work, but to insist that there's a correct and an incorrect way for bodies to work, and that people outside of what it describes do not exist. It's obvious because it won't even show you what a uterus, what a vagina, or what boobs usually look like, like any decent diagram whose purpose is science education would. It's obvious because it straight up lies to you about how periods work, and tells you that having a period is somehow intrinsically tied to being a woman.

Like, no. Obviously. Trans can men experience menstruation at any point in transition, and trans women can experience other common parts of periods if they've been on hrt for long enough. Periods are not some kind of woman exclusive thing, it's not purely reliant on having a uterus or having certain hormones. It's not gender dependent. It depends on multiple features of one's body. It's a very basic fact of transition, hormones change how your biology works no matter what features you have. To imply none of this is true is denying very very basic facts about how a lot of people's bodies work, simply based on some insistence that those people aren't real and if we simply look away we can all pretend trans women aren't real. It's digging your head in the sand, it's having lived looking at the shadows on the wall your whole life, being told something new, and going right back into your cave and angrily shouting at everyone that the shadows are real, the shadows are ALL that is real, and though I may have glimpsed things that lie outside of it, those things aren't real because I personally can safely ignore facts about how the world works and go about my day.

#cw transphobia #idk patricia taxxon posted this infographic and i haven't been able to stop thinking about it #there's something so weird and angry about it and how it's mixed with these cheerful childish drawings #angrily shouting I LOVE MY BOX AND I LOVE WHEN CONCEPTS CONTAIN ONE PURE IDEA AT THE EXCLUSION OF EVERYTHING ELSE

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coloursflyaway · 3 days

Text

Won’t Fear Love (6/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.900

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

or:

Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

It’s the second Wednesday of the month again, for the eighth time since they have started this experiment, if Edwin’s tally is correct. Which, of course, it is.

The last two weeks have been filled with a new case, one that is turning out to be much harder than expected, and so Charles and he are sprawled on the sofa, books in their hands, while Crystal is out to find someone whose mind might provide them with some kind of insight. So far, Charles has not declared any plans for the night, but then again, he seems to enjoy surprising Edwin, seems to enjoy keeping him in the dark for as long as possible.

Just the month before, he had taken Edwin to a botanical garden so they could enjoy the mild weather, the flowers and the gentle quiet there; they had been holding hands, Charles had woven a crown from daisies and dandelions for him and later kissed Edwin beneath a vine-covered arch, another time just before they had left the gardens to walk back to the agency.

Now, he is laying on the sofa with his head in Edwin’s lap, which makes Edwin’s own reading slightly more difficult as there is nowhere to rest his book but on Charles’ forehead (which he had tried, but Charles did not appreciate) but is also more than worth it. It’s nice to be this close, to weave his fingers into the curls of Charles’ hair and make him hum happily, to look down from time to time and watch Charles’ eyelashes flutter, his forehead furrow in concentration.

It’s domestic in a way that is painfully familiar and delightfully new at the same time.

“Hey, Edwin”, Charles says eventually, and when Edwin looks down, Charles is already watching him, the book set aside and resting on his chest. “I know it’s Wednesday and I do have a little something planned, but would you mind if we just spent this one at home?”

His eyes are wide and soft and dark, and Edwin knows he could say no, and ask to go anyway and Charles would take him to… well, wherever he was planning on going. Not that Edwin ever would, not when Charles is not feeling like going on a date. Especially, since the reason for these dates is for Charles to find out if he wants this.

Edwin is about to smile, tell him that of course, they can stay in, but then there’s a flash, a thought so bright and sudden wrecking through his brain that it stops Edwin dead in his tracks. Because that was the deal they had, wasn’t it? That they would go on dates and Charles would figure out if Edwin could be someone he’d want as more as a friend.

And if Charles doesn’t want to take him on a date tonight, then…

Suddenly, Edwin feels his metaphorical heart speed up; if he still had a breath, it would be shaky, coming in gasps, because his whole existence zeroes in on this, on Charles looking up at him, on Charles asking to stay at the agency tonight.

He puts down his book, sits up straighter, and the change in posture must have been noticeable because Charles quirks an eyebrow, even if he doesn’t move; Edwin isn’t sure if he is grateful for it or wishes it was different.

“Charles”, he starts, unsure how to phrase it when part of him wants to abandon rhyme and reason and beg Charles not to break his heart. “Please correct me if I am misunderstanding the situation, but are you trying to say that you are ready to make a decision regarding… us?”

He puts it as delicately as he possibly can, tries to keep any kind of hope, of desperation, of bone-chilling, all-encompassing fear from seeping into his voice, but he isn’t sure how, or even if he succeeds. Especially since Charles doesn’t react at all at first, then scrunches up his nose, forehead furrowing. “What?”

Since there is no universe in which Charles would ever treat him unkindly on purpose, or make this harder than necessary, the confusion must be genuine, which makes it easier, makes it harder still. And, a treacherous part of Edwin’s mind whispers, what does it say about their situation that Charles seems to have forgotten about it entirely?

“Us, Charles”, Edwin repeats after a moment and even to himself, his voice sounds off, too composed to be anything but a facade. And it is, because Edwin isn’t even certain how he is formulating words, sentences, when every spectral molecule of his body seems to be frozen in hope, in terror. “When we started this… experiment of a sort, it was very clear that we would go on dates so you would be able to make a decision about our romantic future, or lack thereof. So, since you are proposing that we do not go on a date tonight, I was wondering if you were indicating that you were ready to make said decision.”

It sounds stilted, it sounds forced, but Edwin cannot make himself stop talking until he is finished, because if there is a chance that this is what Charles has planned, then he has to get it over with as quickly as possible, no matter the consequences.

His hands are shaking and Charles must see it, so Edwin folds them and presses them against his chest, while he watches Charles sit up slowly, eyebrows still drawn together like he is trying to find the last piece for a puzzle he wasn’t expecting to solve.

He’s beautiful in a way that makes Edwin wish he had a heart that could beat for him, a breath that Charles could take away; he’s anything Edwin could ever want and although ever since they started this, Edwin has been doing his best to keep his hopes in check, he suddenly realises with startling clarity that he has colossally failed in that regard. There is still nothing that could ever keep him out of Charles’ life, but it would take decades to piece his heart back together, should Charles decide he would prefer them to be friends.

Because he had a taste of it now, of holding Charles’s hand when they are walking through the city, of cuddling close to him at night and kissing him in the morning, when the early sunlight is making his skin glow golden. And even if for Charles this was a trial run that was found lacking, it had never felt like that for Edwin.

“Just so I can get this straight”, Charles starts very slowly, like he isn’t certain what to say, or how to say it, “Are you under the impression that I haven’t made that decision yet?”

He sounds like he cannot believe he is saying it, and Edwin cannot do anything but nod helplessly, the weight of the rest of his existence making it impossible to speak.

It takes a moment, but then Charles laughs, incredulous and yet sweet, and even if it doesn’t clear up anything, it washes away at least some of the tension. Because Charles wouldn’t laugh at him, not before breaking his heart.

“Edwin, we’ve been cuddling until a few moments ago”, Charles tells him and his voice is so gentle, so fond that Edwin wants to sway closer, wants to spend the rest of time surrounded by its timbre. “We’ve been holding hands for months now. I kissed you this morning when we were watching the sunrise. Twice.”

He smiles at the last part, like it is a memory worth reliving and that is enough to stun Edwin into talking, to kickstart the heart he doesn’t have into beating once more. “I thought you were trying it out. To see if you liked it”, he explains, and slowly, ever so slowly, hope is spreading through his body, pumped through astral veins from his chest to the tips of his fingers, the soles of his feet.

“For the first twenty minutes of it, maybe. Not for several months”, Charles replies and he is smiling, the curve of his lips seeping into every word. “Crystal even introduced you as my boyfriend last week.”

“I thought she was teasing me!”, Edwin shoots back, but there is no heat to his words, there couldn’t be, when Charles is looking at him like he doesn’t want to look away again.

The words startle a laugh out of Charles, who then reaches out to pull Edwin’s hands from where they have been resting against his chest, holds them tightly between his own. And suddenly Edwin’s skin feels like its thawing, like Charles’ touch is breathing air back into his lungs, is making bringing his heart back to life.

“Edwin, listen to me”, he says and there is nothing Edwin would rather do. “I made my decision months ago. I thought you knew.”

Months ago, he says, and Edwin thinks about snuggling up to Charles when they were both doing research in long, dark nights, about tangling their fingers together between their bodies while following Crystal down one of London’s long, winding streets, about Charles kissing him last night, crowding him against the door and only stopping when Edwin’s head was spinning.

It feels impossible, it feels real at the same time, and Charles is watching him with such tenderness that Edwin cannot even ask if he means it. Because Charles would never lie to him, not about something like this.

“Can you just say it?”, he asks instead, sounding breathless and overwhelmed and happy even to his own ears. “So I can believe it. Just once.”

Charles’ fingers tighten around his, and maybe that is an answer in itself, but then Charles says, “I’ll say it as often as you want to hear it.”

And he leans in, close enough that Edwin almost closes the distance and kisses him instead, stops himself just because he knows he needs to hear it, that he will have time to kiss Charles later.

“You, Edwin Payne”, Charles starts, and raises their joined hands to press his lips to Edwin’s knuckles, “are the love of my life in every possible way. And there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my existence at your side.”

He smiles and his eyes are so full of love, of affection, that Edwin feels like he is drowning in it, unable, unwilling to resurface. There are tears stinging in his eyes, but Edwin blinks them away, because he needs to see, needs to commit Charles’ face to memory like it is right now, his curls mussed from Edwin’s fingers, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the office.

“I love you, too”, he whispers into the sliver of space between them, hopes to fill it with everything else he wants to, will, say. “More than anything.”

Charles’ eyes light up as he leans in, makes them shine so brightly they’re almost blinding, and just before their lips brush, he whispers, “I know.” And kisses Edwin soft and sure and overwhelming, one hand letting go of Edwin’s so it can reach up and cradle his jaw instead, holding him steady, holding him close.

Edwin kisses back, and there is a moment where he thinks, please.

Only to realise, as Charles kisses his love onto his lips, that there is nothing more he could ask for.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #i'll really miss writing this fic #so much #my boys ♥♥♥

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justkending · 3 days

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!

____________

Chapter 4:

Y/N's POV

It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery.

My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves.

Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity.

James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier.

Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…

Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news.

Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps.

Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?

So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.

And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line.

“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.

It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room.

“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-”

“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out.

He wasn’t a bad guy.

He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration.

Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep.

I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness.

But now?

“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life.

“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition.

“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.”

“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.”

“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”

He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me.

“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…

He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on.

I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.

This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did.

____________________

When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report.

Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine.

People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track.

Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others.

“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it.

Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps.

“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.”

She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me.

“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”

“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.”

“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”

“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned.

“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.”

“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.”

“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information.

I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”

She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”

“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.”

___________

After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue.

I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma.

I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.

Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home.

From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer.

I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly.

“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him.

He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).

(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)

“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp.

“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne.

His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.

“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless.

I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly.

“What?”

“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice.

“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side.

A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger.

His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”

“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room.

“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.

Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me.

He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway.

_____________

Bucky’s POV:

I left her the fuck alone.

I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body.

I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…

I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake.

Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.

I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose.

“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together.

Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting.

“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury.

“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us.

I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality.

“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”

I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof.

“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.

“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.”

“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her.

She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me.

“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly.

“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.”

‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.”

“What do you even mean?”

“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious.

“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute.

“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back.

Touché.

“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question.

“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.

Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress.

“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well.

She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology.

“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”

“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms.

She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact.

She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.

Marvel Tags:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

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