#Fear Fighters Friday

[fear-fighters-comic]

Overload: part 2

[soon-palestine]

hat day was December 19, 2023 when Israeli ground troops entered the Anan family’s apartment building in Gaza City. According to survivors, by the end of the day, at least 11 civilians had been killed.

When he recovered, Yahya said, “I don’t think there is a human being who could forget anything like this.”

Working with journalists in Gaza, Al Jazeera English investigated a number of Israeli military attacks as part of The Night Won’t End, a documentary we reported and produced for the show Fault Lines and which was released last Friday. While we reported on incidents ranging from a massive air strike to attacks on safe zones to the killing of 6-year-old Hind Rajab, we also sought to focus on an issue that has received more limited media coverage: allegations of arbitrary executions of civilians by Israeli ground forces.

This is the story of one of those alleged incidents. We verified the details of the attack using the testimony of six survivors, satellite imagery, phone messages, and video footage.

By December of last year, Israeli ground troops had a solid hold of north Gaza. Attacks and sieges on hospitals like Kamal Adwan and Al Awda were in full force. Air strikes had already decimated significant portions of the north and were continuing in tandem with ground attacks.

Some of the dozens of people sheltering in the Anan apartment building told Fault Lines that in the days leading up to December 19, Israeli ground troops laid siege to the building, shelling it and trapping people inside.

One resident who spoke to our team and wanted to remain anonymous out of fear for her safety said that the ground troops had to know that there were no armed fighters in the building because no one fought back at any point. “If there was anything that frightened or harmed them, or anyone resisting or fighting them, it would have been obvious in those five days,” the survivor said. “They knew this house had civilians inside.”

The Salem family was also sheltering in the building. They had already been displaced twice during the war. Just a week prior, they had survived a massive air strike that killed over 100 members of their extended family.

“We took refuge there to be safe,” Hiba Salem told our team with a heavy sigh. And then she laughed, as though the idea of safety was ridiculous.

“The tanks and bulldozers trapped us at the door of the house,” she said. “For an entire week, shells were landing on our building. We were trapped and they shot at us from the quadcopter 24 hours a day. We were living under very difficult circumstances. We had no water. Life was impossible for us.”

Satellite imagery from Planet Labs from the morning of December 19 shows Israeli tanks about one block from the Anan apartment building. A few hours later, survivors testified that soldiers entered the building.

“They came from that door—they blew up the door and went in—we were shocked,” said Ahmed Anan, Yahya’s father. “We just sat and we thought, what do they want from us? The soldiers were in front of us. They told us to raise our hands up, we raised our hands up. ‘Take off your clothes’—we took off our clothes.” He was downstairs with his daughter and young grandson. Eventually, he said, they forced all of them to leave the building while the rest of the family remained inside.

“I knew my kids and the rest of my family were upstairs,” he said. “What were they going to do to them?”

Yahya was upstairs with most of his family. He said that as soon as soldiers entered their apartment, he and the others shouted that they were civilians, over and over. “They came in firing randomly,” he said, walking through the remnants of the apartment. As he talked, he pointed to some of the bloodstains.

“The first one killed [was] Abu Hamdi Al-Ghalayini, my sister’s husband. This is his abaya and here is blood. They shot a bullet in his head and the other one in his heart.”

Yahya said he heard the soldiers speaking Hebrew as well as English. “But there were no questions. No ‘What’s your name?’ or ‘What’s your ID number?’ Nothing.”

Hiba Salem was sheltering in a different apartment in the building when soldiers came in. She was with her husband Ayman and their eight children, including their oldest son, Oday.

“They went to each apartment,” Oday said, “shooting and firing shells so they could search and see who was inside. Of course, it was all civilians here.”

According to Hiba, the soldiers who came into their apartment asked if there were any fighters. “We told them we have no resistance fighters. We are all civilians. I have children. They took my son, a young man, to the kitchen and hit him in his stomach and head.” Ayman was beaten and thrown down the stairs, according to both Hiba and Oday. “They broke my husband’s jaw. They broke this part of his face,” Hiba said, gesturing to the side of her own face. “He began bleeding. They tortured him by beating his arms with their rifles until they bled.”

After this, survivors said that they were grouped with other residents of the building, and the women and men were separated from each other. “They hit our heads with a big baton, and they fired their weapons right over our heads which made our ears ring and hurt so much,” Hiba recalled. “They took us women, three at a time, to an interior room. They stripped us of our clothes and searched us, while mocking and laughing at us, using dirty words.”

The women had been separated from the men, but both Hiba and another woman who was there said that they could see the men from where they were. “They put us in a room and the men were in front of us,” the other woman, who wished to remain anonymous, said. According to the survivors, the men were stripped to their underwear and then forced to kneel on the ground.

“I was right there,” Yahya said, gesturing to a spot in the apartment corridor. “I don’t know if these marks are from the shots that were aimed at me or not. I was lying face down on the ground.” As he looked around, he gestured to where his uncle and cousin were in front of him and to the spot in front of him where his brother Amin was.

It was after this that survivors said that the soldiers then began shooting at all the men.

“They started to carry out executions in front of our eyes,” Hiba recalled. “They didn’t spare anyone. They created a bloodbath, I swear to God.”

At least 11 men were killed, including Hiba’s husband, Ayman. The rest of the men were from the Anan family and their in-laws from the Ghalayini and Al-Ashi families. Yahya Anan and Oday Salem were also shot, but they survived.

“I was hit here with two bullets,” Yahya said, pointing to his arm. “I lost consciousness. Between one moment and the next, I was near death.”

After this, soldiers left the building but remained outside. The women were still together, including Hiba and her three daughters. Then a few minutes later, survivors said that soldiers began firing on the building from the outside.

Rula Salem, Hiba’s oldest daughter, said that she was huddled in a corner, holding her 4-year-old sister Nada in her lap. “The shelling stopped when the quadcopter began shooting,” Rula, who is 19, said. She continued holding onto Nada through the attack. Her sister was crying and asking for water. “I told her, ‘Wait honey. When it’s finished, I will get you water.’ I didn’t know that at that point her soul was leaving.” It was after the attack stopped that she realized her sister had been killed.

According to Hiba and Rula, Nada was killed by shrapnel during the attack. “Shrapnel came in her eyes while they were open,” Hiba said. “My daughter was killed while she was looking.”

After the soldiers left, the survivors tried to get help. One of Yahya’s sisters who survived the attack messaged a group chat that included relatives, telling them what happened. Fault Lines reviewed text messages she sent at around 10:15 pm local time. In the messages, she says that her family “were all martyred. And we are now trapped in the house with injuries.”

One of the people who received those messages was Shadi Anan, Yahya’s brother who lives in Algeria. He struggled to process the news that so many of his relatives had been killed. “I heard the news, but my brain started working after 15 minutes,” he recalled of hearing what had happened from his sister. “They executed her husband and three kids in front of her.”

After learning what happened, Shadi began trying to find a way to get help for his family. He sent voice notes to others in Gaza, trying to find a way to reach the Palestine Red Crescent Society or anyone in the area that could help, but no one was able to. In one of the voice notes, his voice is audibly distraught as he asks for anyone to go to them. “The area was besieged, and extremely dangerous. But we tried to send an appeal because of the injured, so we could try to save some of them.”

During this time, Yahya finally woke up. “It wasn’t until after I woke up from the sounds of the shelling at the building, that I realized I’m lying down between the martyred,” he said.

Looking around the scene during his interview, he wondered if the blood still visible was from his uncle or his brother or both. After he woke up, Yahya also realized that he had been shot in the arm. “I got up with extreme difficulty and crawled to the women. So they checked me, I am not sure who checked me because it was dark. She wrapped a scarf around my arm, so the bleeding stopped.”

He tried to walk, but it was too difficult to go far in the building. “I slipped three times on the martyrs, from the blood.”

The survivors stayed in the building into the next day, trying to determine if it was safe to leave. “I carried my little sister on my shoulders,” Oday said, recalling when they decided they could evacuate the building. “I helped my other sister to lean on me. And my mom was injured on her face.”

Yahya was still in the building after the others left, unable to leave due to his injury and blood loss. But eventually civilians entered the building, he said. The men who entered the building took a video as they walked through. Fault Lines reviewed the video, which shows the bodies of several undressed men. Nada Salem’s body is also seen briefly. As the men walk through the apartments, navigating through bodies and pools of blood, eventually they come to a room where Yahya can be seen lying on a bed. “They pulled me on the bedsheet and they took me out of the building.”

After this, he was taken to Al-Shifa hospital, where the other survivors had arrived as well. An Al Jazeera news crew was there and filmed the survivors as they recounted what had taken place the day before.

Yahya can be seen lying down as he speaks to the camera. “The first person they struck was my sister’s husband, Abu Hamdi,” he said in the news report.” They shot him as he was saying, ‘Civilians.’”

Hiba was filmed as well. Her face is visibly injured as medical staff treat her and her children. “There’s a bullet in my hand. There’s a bullet in my daughter’s head,” she said in the video. “My son can’t see. My young daughter was killed, and my husband, they executed him.” In a video taken shortly before her husband Ayman was buried, the injuries on his face from the attack are visible.

The Israeli Defense Forces did not respond to a request for comment on the allegations of the attack.

“My husband made me feel safe. I spent my whole life with him, in all its details, all its meaning,” Hiba told our crew in Gaza. Like all the families we spoke with for our documentary, those that survived this attack remain haunted by what they experienced, and what was taken from them: beloved family and friends, homes full of memories, and dreams for their children’s future and what might have been.

“I couldn’t wait for her to grow up,” Hiba said of her daughter Nada. “Her one wish, she’d tell me, was to get her a backpack and take her to school. She would always say that to me. Whenever I think of them, my heart shatters.”

As Yahya walked through the apartment building, the deep and lingering impact of the attack was visible in his eyes. “They have all the weapons and you’re a defenseless civilian. You have nothing and have done nothing. And in a moment most of your family is executed.” His brother Amin was one of the 11 men who were killed. “I want time to go back in time,” he said, looking around the ruins of his family’s former home where so many of his loved ones were killed.

“I didn’t imagine that one day, that in one moment, they would destroy everything.”

[revasserium]

you

hayato suo; 5,844 words; fluff and angst, semi!dark content, obsessive behavior, stalking, emotional manipulation, stalker!suo,big brother!togame

summary: fool me once, shame on me. fool me twice, shame on you.

a/n: this was written for both @pixelcafe-network's challenge friday prompt (i got the song 'shinunoga e-wa' which... well.) as well as @peachsukii's wonderful horror event! pls proceed with caution!

It is not a healthy obsession.

But obsessions rarely are.

The first time he sees you is through the hazy mist of a Monday morning, walking to school with Sakura and Nirei trailing behind him, bickering about a possible pop quiz in Japanese Literature that afternoon. Suo grins, his fingers laced behind his back as he nods along. He’ll do fine even if there is a pop-quiz. He knows, he knows —

And then, there you are, caught in the glimmer of sunrise, your cheeks brushed pink by rosy-fingered dawn — standing across the street, a tinkling conglomeration of phone charms dangling from your wrist. You’re turned to one side, laughing with someone he can’t quite see — and in that moment, Suo Hayato learns the meaning of the word jealousy.

He thought he had known it before but he knew then that every emotion he’d felt prior to this has been a mere shadow, a weak and straggling imitation of the real thing — curiosity, jealousy, fear, want —

“Suo-san?” Nirei’s voice is an unwanted interruption to his intense study of you, but he has a reputation to upkeep, so he turns and grins.

“Hm?”

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Sakura supplies over Nirei’s hitched hesitation.

Suo turns back towards where you were standing just a second ago, but you’re not there anymore. For a stomach-wrenching moment, he thinks he’s lost you, and he scans the street desperately for the shape of you until — ah — there.

“Who is that?” Suo asks, taking care to keep his voice casual, leaning over to bump Nirei with his shoulder. Nirei goes red at the contact before whipping out his little black booklet and flipping through the pages, clearing his throat.

“She just moved here!” Nirei supplies after announcing your name, “seems like she’s good friends with Togame from —”

“Shishitoren,” Suo finishes, his voice falling flat. His eyes catch on the sweep of your skirt as you casually loop your arm through Togame’s, leaning into his body as he ruffles your hair. Suo wonders, briefly, if he’d have been able to beat Togame had they been paired together in the faceoff and for a second, he resents Sakura for being the one chosen to fight him.

That night, he dreams of the softness of your touch, the tenderness of your palms, warm against his, and the intoxicating sweep of your eyelashes. He dreams of the milky skin of your thighs, of the candy-cane sweetness of your breath when you lean in to whisper something in his ear.

He wakes up sated and tempered, and he resolves to find out everything about you.

And it’s not difficult, not with a friend like Nirei.

You’re a childhood friend of Togame’s, a recent addition to the Shishitoren roster, though you’re not a fighter yourself. You remind him of Kotoha and he can already imagine you quipping back at his good-natured banter, how you’d flick your bangs from across your eyes.

He wanders across the borders on purpose, just to see you, but he’s good enough to stay out of sight. Though, even if he were found out, things between Boufuurin and Shishitoren are good now, aren’t they? There’s no reason he shouldn’t act as liaison, and build some new bridges between the two, is there?

“You were so serious for a while, Jou,” he overhears you say, hidden behind a hedge at a nearby park, his back pressed to the large tree under which you and Togame are, the pair of you on the park bench just beneath it’s shade.

“Was I? Yeah… guess I was. Went through a bad patch there,” Togame’s voice is deep, churning Suo’s stomach till it goes sour. Suo wonders if you like guys like this — all whisky and smoke and lazy Sundays. Somehow, he thinks you’d be more into guys like him —

Guys who would hold your hand like it’s the only thing they were put on this earth to do right. Guys who might kiss you and keep kissing you till he’s sure it’s perfect. He feels a gut-deep hatred of Togame, of the careless way he slings his arm around your shoulders, or the way he reaches out to ruffle your hair, mussing up your bangs.

Suo closes his eyes and leans back against the thick tree trunk and to anyone else, it might’ve looked like napping, or an afternoon meditation session. But in the theatre of Suo’s mind, he can see the way he would comb his fingers through your hair, how he’d treasure each silken tress, how he might press his nose into the crown of your head and breathe in deep — he can almost smell the citrus and coconut scent of your shampoo — he’d seen it when he paused by your house earlier that week.

It had been such an easy thing, and you’re so, so trusting. Leaving your front door unlocked, hurrying out because you were late for an afterschool cram session. Suo had followed you all the way from underneath the train tracks, telling himself that he was only watching out for you, like any good gentleman might do. He couldn’t exactly count on the ruffians from Shishitoren to look out for you — not like he would.

He’d slipped into your small house, easy as pushing through the door. And immediately, he’s caught by the scent of you — the slightly musty smell of wood and tatami mats, the floral, milky scent of your body cream, the damp trail that undoubtedly leads into your bathroom, where you’d just taken a shower (he’s sure; your hair was still wet when you ran out the door). He’d wandered through your house as if walking through a dream, lingering over the plastic wrappers in your garbage, from convenience store sandwiches. He frowns — a girl like you should have a more balanced diet, and he makes a mental note to change that.

He’d gone from room to room, pausing over this and that, tracing his fingers over the corners of your cabinets, the thin wooden railing along the steep flight of stairs leading to the second floor. He’d paused by your bedroom just to take it in — the girlishness of it, the pink bedsheets, patterned with tiny flowers, the stuffed animals toppled one over the other, the indent where you’d probably sat as you dried your hair. It’s not as neat as his own room, but there’s an orderliness that pleases him. He smiles as he notices a pair of discarded sleep shorts, crumpled by the bed; he toys with the idea of picking it up before thinking better of it.

Not now — not yet.

He takes careful stock of your medicine cabinet in your bathroom, memorizes the shampoo and conditioner bottles. He uncaps your favorite bottle of perfume (the one that’s almost finished) and breathes in deep, his senses sizzling within him as he feels his body prickling with heat, a swirling desire crystalizing at the base of his stomach.

Carefully, he unscrews the top and dabs a drop on each of his wrists before capping the bottle and placing it back exactly as it was.

And now, sitting here, listening to you and Togame talk, he feels a deep sense of satisfaction as he pulls a fresh bottle of the perfume from his pocket, turning the little bottle over and over in his palm. He’d found it easily enough, it’s a well-known brand, and not overly expensive.

“Oh — thanks for the fruits, by the way,” you say, “it had all my favorites!”

“Ah… fruits?” Togame asks.

“Mm — the basket that was sitting outside my door… wasn’t it from you? Or maybe Chouji… but anyways, it was nice! I had almost finished the lychee in one sitting — had to stop myself before it gave me a stomach ache.”

You laugh and Suo basks in the sound.

Togame chuckles, though there’s a distinct note of uncertainty that makes Suo’s lips twist.

“You used to eat them until you gave yourself nosebleeds,” he says, and there’s the distinct sounds of a tussle. You yelp, the sound dovetailing into a laugh as the smile slips off Suo’s face. His eyes snap open — he can almost see it, how Togame might reach over to pinch at your cheeks, how you might duck or swat him away.

Suo himself would never be so unruly.

“I gotta get to the bookstore — I’m covering for Momo’s shift today.”

He hears you getting to your feet, Togame following suit. Togame offers to walk you but you decline. And then you separate, each going your own ways. Suo waits till he’s sure you’re both gone before slowly getting to his feet, tucking the bottle of perfume back into his pocket.

The bookshop is a quaint little thing, tucked into a row of storefronts, all family owned and run. He takes a deep breath before ducking in, hitching a pleasant smile onto his face.

“Welcome!” your voice is bright as silver bells, “can I help you find anything today?”

Suo makes a show of looking around, eyes scanning the rows and rows of books, and then the manga section in the back. He points.

“Actually, yes — there’s a manga series that I love and I’m waiting for the next installment.”

You grin, “Sure! What’s the name? We don’t carry a huge stock, but I can definitely check for you!”

Suo delights in the blush that seeps into your cheeks as he mentions the name of your favorite shoujou manga (he’d seen the volumes at your house, the latest volume left open on your bed).

“O-oh! You like that one too?” you ask, your eyes scanning his face, as if this all might be a joke.

“Yeah!” Suo answers, linking his hands behind his back as you round the front table and lead him towards the manga section, “I think the art is nice but mostly, I like the slow development of romance between the two main characters — even though you know from the beginning they’re meant for each other.”

He’d done his homework; it’d taken a few days for him to read through the entire series, but he’d done it. For you, he would’ve done that and more.

You turn towards him, eyes wide and bright and excited.

“Yes! That’s so true! Here — this is the newest one, just came out three days ago —”

Suo takes it, letting his fingers skim by yours, reveling in the way your skin feels against his. Of course, he’s already read the latest volume, but he clutches it to his chest anyway and follows you to the front, content to listen to you chatter about the series and the reasons you love it.

“— just… I know it’s a shoujou series, and the main guy is meant to be lovable but — it’s just so realistic! Like he’s not perfect, but he just wants to do his best to protect the girl, y’know? And it’s so cute —”

Suo nods, reaching into his pocket for some cash.

You flap him away, “You can have that one! Think of it as a bribe — to keep you coming back for the next one,” you say, twin patches of darkness riding high in your cheeks.

Suo schools his expression into a bashful grin, “Are you sure? I can pay — I mean, I’d never turn down a gift from a pretty girl but —”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fiddling with your fingers, “I’m sure! Just… promise you’ll come back when you finish it so we can talk about it, okay?”

Suo nods, curling his fingers into the cover of the book, his heartbeat in his throat.

“Alright then. It’s a date.”

That night, he places the manga volume and the bottle of perfume next to each other on his shelf, leaning back to admire his handiwork. He brings his wrist up to his nose, taking a long breath — it’s not the same, the perfume against his skin as it would be against yours, but it’s enough for now — enough to pretend.

It does not take long after that, not with his frequent visits to the bookshop (he’s long since memorized your work schedule) and the growing friendship between Shishitoren and Boufuurin — it’s almost easy. Too easy.

And you are so perfect, so naive — so easy to manipulate that Suo almost feels bad — almost. When he leans in to kiss you for the first time, the pair of you tucked in the far stacks of the bookstore, him under the guise of helping you reach the upper shelves, he nearly loses himself in the way you gasp against his lips, your fingers curling into the front of his uniform.

He feels the reckless hunger that has been threatening to tear him apart every night since he first saw you that morning across the street coiling up the back of his throat as he curls his fingers into your hair and presses you to him.

When he forces himself to pull away, he’s pleased to find your eyes glassy, your lips dark and kiss-bruised, slick with spit and parted. You’re panting, your chest heaving with the sheer force of the kiss.

Suo leans down to press his forehead to yours.

“Finish your shift… I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

You nearly whine as you bury your face in his chest.

“What if — what if I want you to distract me?”

It’s a horribly cliche thing to say — in fact, Suo is certain that it’s a line lifted straight from your shoujou manga. He swallows down a groan at the thought of pushing you into the back closet and having his way with you then and there but — he reels in his mind and takes a breath, shaking his head.

“Finish your shift first,” he says, playing the part of the ever-considerate boyfriend, “then… I’ve got a present for you.”

He tugs away to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger, before pulling away completely and bending down to pick up a stack of books that still need to be shelved.

You heave a long sigh, but don’t complain as you follow after him, trying your best to hide a smile that nevertheless pulls at your cheeks.

Outside the bookshop, Suo presents you with the bottle of perfume.

“I know it’s not very expensive but… for some reason, the scent made me think of you,” Suo says, his voice the perfect timber between hopeful and hesitant. You gasp, looking down at the label.

“Hayato! This is my favorite perfume! How… how did you know?”

Suo shrugs, smiling that enigmatic smile of his, “I didn’t — I just… I saw it at the store and thought of you,” he lets the heat flush into his cheeks, pursing his lips in a perfect imitation of bashfulness.

You throw your arms around him and press your lips to his cheek.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! And I was so close to finishing my own bottle too! Ugh — this is just too perfect!” you sink back to your feet, your arms still looped around his neck.

Suo lets his hands settle around your waist, laughing as you smile up at him. And then — you’re tugging him down by the collar of his uniform, your lips finding his, and all coherent thought leaves him again.

It isn’t till someone coughs that the pair of you pull apart.

“Ah… if it isn’t Suo-san,” Togame’s voice is at once amused and slightly suspicious. Suo peers over your head and shoots him an unassuming grin.

“Togame-san — it’s been a while.”

“Jou… I didn’t know you were coming over today,” you say, ducking your head as you surreptitiously wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.

“I wasn’t, but I found myself in the area so I thought I’d drop by,” Togame’s eyes flicker between you and Suo before settling on you. There’s a curious tick to his eyebrows as you refuse to meet his gaze.

You chew on your bottom lip for a good second before saying, “So… you guys have met before, right?”

Suo nods, “Yep! It was quite a meeting, but I think we all came out of it pretty okay.”

Togame lets out a low chuckle, “Sure. You could say that. How’s Sakura doing?”

Suo shrugs, “He’s fine — but there’s not much that’ll get him down. I heard Tomiyama-san’s doing much better now too.”

Togame bobs his head, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Yeah, he is. Uh listen… I didn’t mean to intrude or anything — just wanted to check in on my uh — friend here —” he jerks his head in your direction, smirking as you blush, looking anywhere but at his face.

“I’m fine Jou — I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“Dunno, you still act plenty like a baby sometimes.”

You pout, eyes flashing as you turn to glare at him. There’s an easy tease in the lilt of Togame’s voice that sets Suo’s teeth on edge. He doesn’t like how close you and Togame are — never have — but he supposes there’s nothing he can do about it. Not right now, at least.

“Okay well we were just leaving —” you say, tugging on Suo’s sleeve.

“Yeah? Where to?” Togame asks, casual as anything, sauntering over to keep pace with the pair of you as you start down the street.

“Uhm…” you start, clearly not having thought this through, but Suo swoops in gallantly, reaching down to lace your fingers through his in a smooth, familiar motion.

“We were going to her place — to watch a movie.”

“Yeah?” Togame peers at you from over the rims of his tinted shades.

“Yeah!” you answer, perking up as you give Suo’s hand a grateful squeeze, “there’s one we’ve been meaning to watch —”

“The Talented Mr. Ripley,” Suo supplies, easy as anything.

You blink up at him, startled, but he only grins. A moment later, you blush, eyes flickering back towards Togame.

“Y-yeah — that one —”

Togame’s gaze ping-pongs between you and Suo, his brows ticking up ever so slightly.

“Yeah… I’ve seen that one — about a guy who pretends to be someone he’s not, right?”

You frown, but Suo squeezes your hand.

“Yep, that’s the one. It’s got a great roster of A-list actors, and the cinematography is really good.”

Togame nods, his eyes settling on you. You lick your lips, nodding along with Suo, flashing Togame a smile that he doesn’t return.

He walks all the way to the end of the street with the pair of you before pausing, cocking his head to watch you turn down the right with Suo at your side. You glance over your shoulder and catch his eyes; there’s a strange glimmer in them that you can’t name but it roils your stomach and makes your heart sputter like a blown out candle in your chest.

You don’t end up watching a movie at yours, but you do laze against Suo’s chest, his fingers threading through your hair as you flip through your favorite volume of your shoujou manga. Suo shifts, his nose pressing into your hair.

“I’ve always loved the scent of your shampoo — you’re almost out though, right?”

You nod absently, “Yeah, I need to buy more…”

You flip another page, and then another. In the intricately drawn manga panels, the protagonist blushes as the male lead traces his fingers along her jawline, tipping her head back for a kiss.

Suo trails deft fingers along your jaw, twisting you around. The manga falls face-down on the worn tatami mat as he covers your lips with his. There’s always been a ferocity to his kisses, but while at the bookshop, he tried to keep his decorum. Here, however, he makes no attempt to mask his hunger, his urgency as he digs his fingers into the skin of your cheek, holding you so tightly you nearly gasp at the sting.

You’re breathless when you pull back, and so is he, his eyes unfocused, his fingers curling into your hair till you wince.

“H-Hayato?” you ask, pressing a palm to his chest.

“Hm?” his single eye flickers wildly over your face, as if desperate to capture the image of you, as if might never be enough just to see you, but to carve you into his memory —

“How… how did you know about my shampoo?” you ask, tilting your head, a tiny frown creasing your forehead.

“What… what do you mean?” he asks, tugging you back down to graze his lips along yours, his words soft and distracted. You groan as he kisses you again, hoisting you up till you’re sitting over his lap, your thighs straddling his.

But you pull back, shaking your head, laughing as he chases you.

“No — I was just — I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my shampoo running low.”

Suo’s frown mirrors your own, his expression one of perfect, innocent confusion.

“Hadn’t you? Maybe I saw it the last time I was in the bathroom.”

You purse your lips, but decide not to think too hard on it. You’d probably mentioned it to him in passing — you’d spent so much time together in the past few weeks. It’s not an impossible thing.

He does so love to listen to you talk, about anything, about everything.

It isn’t till he leaves much later that night that you flick on the light in your bathroom and pull back your shower curtains.

There sit your shampoo and conditioner bottles, lined up along the wall just as they’ve always been. And, just as you remember — the bottles are definitely not see-through.

Little things start to go missing after that — your favorite hair tie, one of your well-used pencils, a single earring, a pair of sleep shorts. Though when you complain to Suo that you seem to be losing more things than usual lately, all he’d done was grin and take you to the shopping center, promising to buy whatever it is that you’d lost.

He helps you pick a new hair tie, a new set of pencils, new earrings that sparkle just as well as the first pair. You blush as he leads you towards the loungewear section, but he presses a reassuring kiss to your temple and tells you that he likes shopping with you — for you.

He whispers against the shell of your ear that he likes the thought of you in things he’s picked out for you.

You shiver at his words, all thoughts about your lost items forgotten.

Togame, though, does not seem to share your optimism about the relationship.

“Dunno — I thought he was alright when I first met him but — even then…” he trails off, casting his eyes up at the light-specked canopy of the large tree you’re both sitting under. You’d wanted to do a picnic before the weather gets too cold for one, and he’d begrudgingly agreed.

You reflect, vaguely, that you’d been seeing less and less of him these days too.

“You’re just mad that I’m spending more time with someone from Boufuurin,” you say with a determined, teasing smile. Togame fixes you with a look over his customary shades, holding your gaze till you flush and look away.

“Yeah. Sure. Maybe.”

You huff, folding your arms, “He’s not that bad! He’s actually really nice to me!”

Togame chuckles, “I believe it, it’s just… nice isn’t exactly the same as good.”

You scowl at him, “What does that even mean?” but something crystalizes in the back of your mind, hardening into a dark speck of suspicion.

You try not to think about it, try not to let it invade your thoughts — but sometimes, when you’re at the bookshop, or even when you’re home alone at night, you’d feel it — the sense that something isn’t right, that someone might be watching you.

But every time you’d turn around, you’d find yourself alone — the bookshop empty, the house quiet, except for the ancient creak of wood and the shuffle of tiny little critters beneath the floorboards.

“Why do we never go to your place?” you ask one day, over steaming bowls of noodles, the wind outside howling something fierce. Suo looks up, blinking.

He swallows his mouthful of ramen and wipes his mouth with pristine, practiced motions.

“Ah — it’s honestly a little embarrassing but… my place is a bit uh —” he shrugs, “a bit messy.”

You frown, “But… you told me that you hated mess. And there was that one time you offered to help me organize the books at the bookstore alphabetically because you said that’s how you organized them at home… right?”

Suo stares, something very much like annoyance flickering behind his eye. But a second later, he lets out a bright laugh.

“No, you’re right! It’s just — it’s not very clean right now — but if you want to see my place, you’re more welcome to see it.”

You nod, trying to convince yourself that you’d been worried for nothing.

“Yeah, I’d love to see it! And you don’t have to clean stuff up for me — I won’t judge you, I promise!” you grin, and lower your eyes back to your own bowl of ramen.

“Sure, you can come over tomorrow if you’d like,” Suo says, watching you slurp at your noodles with an indulgent grin.

You nod, flushing as you almost choke on your mouthful of noodles in your eagerness.

“Y-yeah! I’d love to! We can — we can watch that movie you were talking about.”

“Hm? Which movie?”

“Oh — that one you mentioned to Jou that one time —”

Again, that flicker of something like annoyance, sharp as a knife’s edge, and gone just as quick.

Suo’s smile is impeccable as he calls for the check, “Oh yes — it’s a great movie, one of my favorites. And I think you’ll like it too.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will! Our tastes are so similar,” you say, grinning as the waiter brings over the check and Suo sets a stack of immaculately folded bills on the table.

“You don’t always have to pay for things, you know,” you say as he laces your hands, the pair of you ducking out into the mid-autumn chill. He reaches out to pull on your collar, adjusting your muffler, tracing the line of your cheek with an affectionate finger.

The muffler, he’d given to you as a gift only two weeks prior, saying that he’d seen it at a sale. It’s your favorite color — but just last week, you’re sure you’d passed by a storefront with the exact same muffler, touting the season’s latest fashions, with a price tag that had made your stomach drop clear out of your body.

You’d convinced yourself that there’s no way he’d spent that kind of money on a gift for you. You’re both still in school — where would he have gotten the cash? Briefly, you consider that he might’ve stolen it.

But you quickly discard that line of thought as well, berating yourself internally for doubting your own boyfriend like this.

“I know,” Suo says, grinning as he leans down for a kiss, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” And he sounds so earnest, so utterly besotted that you don’t have the heart to doubt anything else.

“You’re too good to me,” you say, shy as the pair of you start on the now familiar walk back to your tiny, two story apartment.

“Banish the notion,” Suo declares, his voice gallant, and you laugh. But he tugs you close to wrap an arm around your middle and press chilly lips to your cold-kissed cheek, “there’s no such thing.”

You flush with a delighted warmth and lean into the comfort of his embrace.

The next day, Suo brings you to his place, just as he’s promised. And just as you’d expected, it’s impeccable to the point of derision. You bite your lips, looking around at the immaculate walls and floors, the perfectly lined shelves, the cupboards stocked and stacked as if by a rather neurotic military sergeant.

“So… I’m guessing you cleaned?” you ask, setting down your bag by the door and toeing off your shoes.

Suo laughs, nodding, “Just a bit, yes.”

“A bit?”

He grins, leading you into the living room, where a tea service is set up and water is already boiling in the kitchen.

“How… what —” you’re at a loss for words as Suo kneels by the low table and washes the tea with the boiling water.

“Can you blame me? It’s my girlfriend’s first visit to my place — I had to make it perfect.”

By the time he puts on the movie, you’re already heavy with an amazing dinner and sleepy with hot tea. You lean against him, drowsing as the movie picks up and a gorgeous, dirty-blond man chats up an equally gorgeous platinum blond woman.

“Mm… which one’s the bathroom?” you ask, your voice sleepy as you totter to your feet.

“Just down the hall — second door to your right,” Suo calls.

You nod as you patter down the dark hallway, keeping one hand on the wall to steady yourself. At the first door, you twist the knob out of reflex, only to find it locked.

Frowning, you twist it again, feeling the old lock jiggling in the door frame.

Suddenly, all hints of drowisness gone, you go still, a strange, vibrating giddiness welling up inside you at the thought of seeing Suo’s bedroom.

Why would he keep it locked? What embarrassing things might you find?

You twist the doorknob slowly, putting pressure on the bottom of the knob till you feel the lock give and the door swings open into a dark, nebulous space. And with one last glance over your shoulder, you slip inside.

The bedroom is small, and neat to the point of sparseness. There’s a writing desk sitting beneath a small window, and a small bookcase tucked against the opposite wall, next to a chest of drawers.

There are no posters on the wall, but there does seem to be a map of some sort. And at first, you think it’s one of those artistic print-maps of Tokyo or some bigger city, but as your eyes adjust to the dimness, you notice tiny little flag markers, and streets that are all too familiar.

You creep closer, as if drawn by an invisible string, until you’re almost nose to nose with the map — and seeing it clearly now, your breath deadens inside your chest.

You know these streets because they’re the streets of this city — of your city, and Suo’s as well. But it’s the thin lines that connect a series of tiny flags that makes your chest go cold — spot markers of your house, your cram school, the bookstore you work at, your favorite shops and restaurants, even the park that you and Togame always go to on weekends.

And the thin lines between them — the routes you take, day in and day out, all meticulously mapped.

Dizzy, you spin around, your eyes catching on the bookshelf, where a series of little trinkets sit in succession —

An empty perfume bottle, a volume of shoujou manga, a hair tie, a pencil stub, and a single glimmering earring.

Blood thunders behind your ears as you brace yourself against the writing desk, the wood creaking slightly beneath your palms.

Your eyes catch next on the chest of drawers, and a single article of clothing crumpled, sitting at the very top — a pair of sleep shorts, thin and worn and trimmed in lace.

Yours.

“I thought you needed to use the restroom.”

You jump at the sound of Suo’s voice, soft and calm and unnaturally steady.

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle what would’ve been a scream as Suo steps into the room and closes the door with a snap behind him.

“You know… it’s not very good manners to go into someone’s bedroom without their permission.”

You lick your lips, shaking your head.

“Hayato… what —” but you can’t the words — because there are no words. Instead, you gesture at the strange collection of baubles on his shelves before turning back to motion at the giant map tacked to the wall.

Suo nods, his hands laced behind his back, his expression amiable.

“What… is all this?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you. You scramble back, but find yourself already cornered against his writing desk. He makes no sudden movements, even as you look wildly around for any kind of escape route, your heart battering against your ribs, a scream building just beneath your lungs.

“It’s… a testament, I suppose,” he says, opening his arms, sighing, “to my feelings for you —” he takes a few more steps, closing the distance between you and him in a single, shuddering heartbeat.

His eye glitters almost red in the iridescent darkness.

“Because… don’t you see?” he asks, his voice now nothing more than a whisper as he reaches out to cup your cheek. You go still beneath his touch, as a deer caught beneath the bright beam of a hunter’s light.

“It’s always been you…” he says, crooning the words into your ears as he trails his fingers along the line of your jaw down to your throat, his thumb dipping into the hollow there before his fingers dig themselves into the nape of your neck.

You let out a soft whimper, feeling the hard crescents of his finger nails as they sink into your skin.

“I love you,” he says, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as poison, “and I wanted — no… I needed you to love me too.”

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[arlana-likes-to-write]

Rescue by Lauren Daigle

Summary: Natasha doesn’t have a lot of regrets, everything she’s done in her life has gotten her to where she is now. An Avenger, a hero to young girls, and trying to remove some red from her ledger. But the one thing she does regret is giving you up. But when a word gets out that you are in trouble, she will come to rescue you. 

Pairings: Natasha x Maria, Natasha x Maria x daughter!reader, past Natasha x Bucky

Warning: gun shot violence, implied rape, death, cannon typical violence, gambling, the reader needs a hug but so does Natasha  

Word count: 7.1 k

“Mail call,” Wanda said, walking into the common area with a few pieces of mail in her hand. 

“Who the hell gets paper mail?” Tony asked, pouring coffee into his mug. 

“Some of us like to do things without technology,” Steve said as Wanda handed him the newspaper. Tony looked at the super soldier with disbelief. It was rare that the Avengers got mail but each one had specific memberships. Vision received a copy of the newest National Geographic and Pietro got Sports Illustrated. Sometimes Sam received a letter from his service buddies and Steve always got the newspaper, he did take the comics out for Peter. As Wanda handed out the mail, Natasha waited with bated breath to see if she received a letter. It was rare but she was excited nonetheless. The Sokovian smiled at the Black Widow and handed her a letter. It was addressed the same way, her name and her current address with no return. 

“Thank you,” the Black Widow said, leaving her unfinished lunch on the table and heading for her room. She barely heard Tony question her odd behavior but she didn’t care. When she was safe behind her bedroom door, she opened the envelope. There was a single picture of a young girl with fiery red hair standing at a picnic table. A birthday cake was lit and presents stayed unwrapped around you. Natasha smiled, moving her finger across your face. Her daughter, whom she only got to hold once on the day she was born. When she defected to SHIELD, she gave up for you to live a normal and safe life. But she was promised that you would go to a good family and on birthdays Natasha would receive a photo. The most important thing was if there was any sign of trouble she would be called in. 

“It’s about that time of year,” Maria appeared at her door. “Did you get a photo?” Natasha nodded as her girlfriend sat down next to her. Not counting the agent, four other people knew of your existence. Maria was one of them but not even the Deputy Direction knew of your true location to keep you safe. The agent gently took the picture and smiled. 

“She’s spoiled rotten,” Maria teased. The Black Widow chuckled, letting her head fall onto Maria’s shoulder. It was times like this that Natasha questioned if she made the right choice. She wished she could be there for birthdays and every school accomplishment. Maria kissed her head. “I know, baby, I know.” 

*

“Miss. Romanoff,” FRIDAY said. Natasha stopped her assault on the sandbag. “Your presence is being requested in the conference room.” 

“Do I have time to shower?” 

“No, Director Fury said it’s urgent,” it was never a good sign when Fury was involved. She quickly grabbed her water off the floor and headed for the conference room. When she entered, Fury and Maria were standing by a screen and her sister and Clint were sitting at the table. Oh, she did not have a good feeling about this. 

“What’s going on?” She asked, not bothering to sit down. 

“Does the Winter Soldier mean anything to you?” Of course, it did. He was one of her trainers in the Red Room but also the father of her daughter. In hindsight it was the perfect companionship; one of the Red Room’s best assassins and HYDRA’s most feared weapon. Their child would be the ultimate fighter but they didn’t need to know that. 

“Yeah,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “He’s credited for over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years.” 

“So, he’s a ghost story?” Clint questioned. She shook her head. 

“I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot at my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff,” she said, remembering every part of that day. “I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I covered my engineer, so he shot him straight through me,” it was heartbreaking as she stared into the eyes of a man she once knew but there was no recognition in his eyes. She lifted her shirt, revealing a bullet wound on her stomach. “A Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye bikinis.”

“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now,” Maria sarcastically said. Natasha smirked. 

“Ew,” Yelena said. “He was also a trainer in the Red Room. Before my time but the guards would talk.”

“Why are we here, Fury?” Clint asked. Natasha was wondering the same thing. 

“We picked up chatter that was concerning,” he nodded to Maria, who pulled up a recording and played it. The audio was all static and it was hard to hear but Natasha could make out two distinct voices and they said your name and the Winter Soldier. 

“Send me there now,” she said. The audio was still playing and Maria quickly stopped it. 

“Nat..” 

“Don’t ‘Na’t me,” Natasha cut her girlfriend off. “When I gave her up I asked for two things; a picture once or twice a year and to be notified if she’s in danger. In return, I’d never reach out to her.”

“We need you here to run point and we are going to send Belova and Barton to look after her,” Fury instructed. 

“Like hell, you are,” Natasha was slowly losing her composure. “She’s my daughter.”

“You don’t have any claim to her,” Natasha’s jaw clenched. Fury sighed. “Can I please speak with Romanoff alone?” Each one of her closest acquaintances left the room and tried to reassure her in their way but she ignored everyone. Her eyes never left the man. When the door closed, Fury sighed again. 

“Natasha..”

“Don’t Nick,” she said, walking over to the man. “Don’t say another word because I’m very close to throwing you through a wall,” Fury smirked. 

“I’m trying to look after you,” he said. “Your name was mentioned. It could be a trap.” 

“I don’t care,” she said. “She’s my daughter even if you don’t think she is,” she saw the smallest clench of his jaw. “I hear her SOS. I will never stop marching toward her. So I’m going. You can’t stop me.” He thought about it.

“Fine,” he relented. “But Maria is coming with you as your backup.” 

“Clint will run point and I want Yelena on standby if we need it.” He nodded. 

“What do we tell the team?” She wasn’t sure. For the longest time, she’s kept your existence a secret to ensure your safety. But now it may have been all for tonight. No, she couldn’t think like that. You were going to be fine. 

“The truth,” she said. “It’s time they know.” 

*

“Hurry up,” your best friend called out. You giggled, running over to her. She climbed up to do the monkey bars. 

“You got this Sarah,” you cheered as her arms began to shake when she reached halfway. She fell to the ground unable to go the entire way. “Nice try,” you smiled, beginning your turn. You liked the challenge of the monkey bars, the burn of your arms and hands. Unlike Sarah, you didn’t feel your arms shake and you made it all the way across. Sarah rolled her eyes. 

“No fair,” she pouted. “How are you so strong?” You shrugged. It was a mystery to you and something you attributed to your biological parents. In PE class, you learned to hold yourself back even though you could beat all the kids in your class. No one wanted to be friends with the abnormally strong girl. 

“I don’t know,” you said. 

“Come push me on the swings,” Well besides Sarah, she didn’t care that you were stronger than her and she used it to her advantage. You smiled, running after her. She jumped onto the empty swing and you began to push her. It wasn’t long before your mind began to wander as you looked around the park. There was a small party at the pavilion and a small-sided soccer game. A few black vans were parked on the far side. You found your parents sitting at a bench speaking with a man you knew well. Agent Cruise. He was present at every birthday party and family gathering. According to your mom, he was the one that found you when your birth mother abandoned you. Why was he here? 

“I’ll be right back,” you told Sarah and walked over to the trio. Agent Cruise saw you right away, a smile on his face. 

“Hi firecracker,” he held out his fist and you pumped it three times then gave him a side hug. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“I was in the area and I thought I’d say hi to the family.” That was a lie but you didn’t question it. If he was lying for a reason, it had to be a good one. 

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” your mom said. “Go back and play with Sarah.”

“Okay, love you guys,” you turned around to go back to the playground but a gunshot froze you in your spot. It was a sound you heard on TV and in movies and never expected to hear it in real life. A body crashed into yours pushing you into the ground as another shot went off. 

“W-Will,” you stuttered. 

“Eyes on me, okay?” You nodded, staring into his brown eyes. “My car isn’t far. I need you to run and I’ll cover you.” 

“What about -” Your eyes found your parents, slumped against each other and blood pouring from a single shot in their head. “No,” you whispered, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall. 

“Firecracker, run,” he got off of you and began to fire. You scrambled to your feet as he shot at a man walking towards you. His bullets made him take cover but you locked eyes with him. They were blue, similar to the color of your own eyes. His brown hair was shoulder length and half of his face was covered with a mask. But the most striking feature about him was his metal arm that shone under the California sun. 

Finding his car wasn’t hard and it was unlocked when you opened the backseat. You slammed the doors closed and tried to calm your racing heart. You mimicked the breathing technique your dad would do. Breathe in for 5 seconds and hold it for 5. In for 5 seconds and out for 5. Soon your heart rate calmed down but your eyes burned with unshed tears. They died, killed right in front of you. You heard voices outside the car and you covered your mouth to keep quiet. His windows were tinted so they couldn’t see in but they would be able to hear you. 

More gunshots and yelling made you yelp and the silhouettes of the men outside disappeared. You removed your hand and listened outside. Soon the car door swung open. You bite back a scream that almost left your lips. “Hey, it’s okay,” you weren’t expecting a woman with red hair and green eyes wearing a black tactical suit. You knew her. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and Avenger. “You're safe but I need you to come with me,” you stayed frozen, staring at the woman in front of you. “Look, we are running out of time. Please come with me.” She held out her hand and you took it, hoping you could trust her. 

*

This wasn’t how Natasha wanted to meet you. She had so many other ways that didn’t involve your adoptive parents murdered and an assassin who happens to be your biological father hunting you. Nothing was easy for the Black Widow. “Put this on,” she handed you a helmet. “Get on,” she got on the motorcycle and she felt you get on behind her, hesitant arms wrapping around her waist. Natasha kicked up the kickstand and the engine came to life. “I got her,” she said over the comms. 

“Well, you got company,” Maria said. Natasha looked behind her and saw 3 vans turning down the street; they were one and the Winter Soldier handing out the window with an AK-47. “Stick to the side streets,” she continued. “I’ll get you both back safely.” Natasha trusted Maria to do just that and started to drive. 

“You have to trust me, okay? When I lean, you lean,” Natasha said over the wind. “If you don’t, they will catch us and kill you.” She wasn’t sure if you heard her until she felt your head and squeezed her waist. 

“Take your next right,” Natasha let out a shaky breath and turned right. Your body leaned with hers. Okay, the Black Widow thought, maybe they’d get through this. 

*

The motorcycle stopped and you took off the helmet. You were in an alley between 2 apartment buildings. The Black Widow got off and helped you down, your legs shook and were a little unsteady. “Come on,” she said, leading you to a door. “We can rest soon.” She opened the door and led you up 2 flights of stairs. The redhead stopped at a door, room 324, and knocked three times. It took a minute for the door to open. In front of you was a woman with black hair, pulled back into a bun. Her brown eyes were sharp but they landed on Natasha and they softened. 

“Glad you're alive,” she said, stepping out of the way. You hesitated but followed the Black Widow inside the apartment. 

“Did you have that little faith?” Natasha teased sitting on the couch. You could see the tension leave her body. 

“What the heck is going on?” You asked. “I just watched my parents die in front of me, a mystery man with a metal man was chasing me, and an Avenger shows up,” you looked at the other woman. “I have no idea who you are or what is going on.” 

“I’m Maria,” she waved, sitting down next to Natasha. It was nice to have her name but that did not answer any of your questions. 

“We can’t tell you everything right now but you're safe here,” Natasha said. You stared at the redhead, the color so similar to your own. Now that you looked at the Avenger you saw a lot of your features in her. 

“How can I feel safe when you won’t tell me the truth?” Her green eyes locked onto your blue ones and she looked away. 

“We can’t,” she said. “Not right now.” Your jaw clenched. 

“We may be here for a while,” Maria said, standing up. “I’ll show you to your room.” You continued to stare at the Black Widow, wanting her to look at you or wanting to grab her by her shoulders and yell - ‘are you my mother?’ but she wouldn’t look at you. You sighed, following Maria. 

“Here you go,” it was a simple room. A bed pushed up in the corner, no TV or posters of any kind. It was a stark contrast to your room. “I know this isn’t ideal,” you skimmed your hand over the bedsheets. “But we will keep you safe.” You looked at Maria. 

“She’s my mom, right?” Maria had an excellent poker face but it was a game you’ve been playing since you could talk. She was surprised by your statement so there were a few ways she could go about this; lie, tell the truth, or deflect. You were leaning towards deflection. 

“There are take-out menus on the fridge, figure out what you want to eat.” Deflection. It was the easiest way, to tell the truth without betraying someone’s trust. 

“Right,” you sat down on the bed. “Thanks.” She nodded. 

“Come find us if you need anything,” you didn’t respond as she closed the door. You leaned against the wall, looking out the window to the street down below. People were going about their day unaware of how your life was altered forever. 

*

“How is she?” Clint asked over the computer. They just finished a meeting with the rest of the team back in New York to come up with the next phase of the plan. She ignored Tony's thousand and one questions regarding you. Overall he seemed hurt she never told him, since ‘we’ve been through so much together.’ Natasha felt bad, they were her team, her family but sometimes the thought of you hurt too much. But a plan was made which consisted of you, Maria, and Natasha to head to Norway to lay low while the rest of the teams tracked and captured the Winter Soldier. Easier said than done. Now she was only talking with Yelena and Clint while Maria tried to get you to eat. 

“She’s quiet,” Natasha knew that was to be expected. “She hasn’t said anything since Maria showed her to her room.”

“Does she know?” Yelena asked. Natasha sighed, nodding her head. 

“Yeah, she asked Maria but she didn’t give her a yes or now,” You were smart, maybe a little too smart. “But I haven’t told her.” 

“Are you going to?”

“Do we know how they found her?” Natasha deflected. She didn’t have an answer to Yelena’s question. Clint nodded. 

“Her adoptive father got into some gambling debts,” he said. “Ripped off the wrong people.” 

“But why go after her?” Yelena questioned. “Why do they want her alive?” Now Natasha knew that answer. She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Her biological father is the Winter Soldier,” she told them. “That is why they are after her. If she falls into the wrong hands, she could be an unstoppable weapon.”

*

You couldn’t sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you saw the metal man with a gun and your parents dead at your feet. Natasha came into your room to tell you that all three of you would be leaving bright and early and to try to get some sleep. You didn’t respond as she left saying goodnight. So you lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, you sighed and stood up leaving your small room to venture into the rest of the apartment. The other bedroom was on the opposite side of the apartment but you tried to be quiet as you went through the bare kitchen. In the last drawer you opened, you found what you were looking for. A single deck of cards. You grabbed it and sat down at the dining room table. Game night was common practice that took place with you and your parents almost every night. At a young age, they taught you poker, blackjack, pitch, rummy, and spades. You never left home without a deck of cards as a simple game of poker square or solitaire could calm your racing mind. So, you set up a poker square game. It was a game of strategy, patience, and a little bit of luck unless you could count cards. Another skill your parents taught you. “Couldn’t sleep?” The Black Widow questioned. You didn’t answer, glancing up at the redhead as she got two bottles of water and sat across from you. “What are you playing?” 

“Poker,” you answered. 

“Poker? Aren’t you a little young to know how to play poker?” You rolled your eyes. It was the same thing said to you by every adult when they found out you could play. 

“Poker isn’t just a way to gamble all the money in your pocket,” you didn’t look away from the cards. “It can teach you emotional stability in changing situations, to think analytically, and how to read people. But also how to be deceptive, you have to make everyone believe you have something in your hand when in reality you have something else,” Finally, you looked up at the Black Widow. “You’d be good at it. Your poker face is shit though.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You know I thought about you all the time,” you went back to your game. “It kept me up some nights questioning why my mother gave me up. Maybe I wasn’t good enough or a mistake or she didn’t love me,” a glance up and you saw everything you needed in her eyes. They softened as her other facial features stayed stoic. 

“Not your mom, kid,” she lied. 

“From an emotional standpoint, sure, you aren’t. But biologically, I know I share your DNA,” you flipped the last card, placing it in the final spot. Taking a moment to look over how you did, you gathered up the cards again. “Shit poker face remember. It’s all in your eyes, they give too much away,” you shuffled the cards and began to play again. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” you added quickly, not wanting to offend the woman sitting across from you. “Just surprising,” you took a sip of water she gave you. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it,” she said. “You can ask but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” Her smirk mirrored your own. 

“Say we don’t share any biological relation, why would the Avengers come and save me?” You began to play again. “I'm nobody,” you said. “It would probably cost less to have them kill me,” you saw her flinch slightly at your blunt comment. 

“You're not the only one he’s after,” you looked up at her. 

“Why?” You questioned. 

“I don’t know,” she answered. You hummed, nodding your head. 

“First time you were honest with me,” you cleaned up the cards. “Goodnight, Natasha,” you took the cards and the water bottle.

“Night, kid,” her voice followed you to the room. When the door closed, you rested your back against it. Your poker face was failing. You felt the cracks. Letting out a shaky breath, you pulled back the covers and climbed in. You were surprised at how quickly you fell asleep. 

*

Norway was beautiful. It was your first time leaving the country. You sat in the backseat of the white car with Maria in the passenger seat and Natasha was driving. You stayed quiet, playing with the charm around your neck. It was a turtle dove, a  Christmas gift from Agent Cruise, who had a matching charm. You wondered if he was okay. Maria tried to make conversation asking about your likes and dislikes. You kept your answers short. Natasha drove through a dirt road through the woods and when the car emerged you saw a camper in the middle of a clearing. The driver's side window was down and you heard water. There was nothing for miles around. “It’s not much but we’ll stay safe,” Natasha said, parking the car. Maria got out and opened your door for you to get out. The wind caused goosebumps to form on your skin as you followed the couple. 

The camper was simple, a couch that faced a small TV and a kitchen. Natasha walked towards the main bedroom, passing a bathroom. When she opened the bedroom door, there was a man fast asleep on top of the bed. The Black Widow hit the man on his foot, who jerked awake. “You're in our bed.”

“I’m..I’m not even under the covers,” he sat up, looking at Maria then you. “You're new. Who are you?” His voice was laced with a British accent. 

“I’m not telling you,” you said, not missing the way Natasha smiled at you. 

“Did you get everything on my list?” Natasha asked, walking back into the main part of the camper. You sat down on the couch as the three adults stood around the kitchen countertop. 

“Got passports, entry visas, and a couple of local driver’s licenses,” he handed the couple a white envelope. “There is a generator outside. It’s petrol-powered and the septic tank will need a flush in a couple of weeks,” he spun around, leaning against the counter. He was looking at you. “You’ll have to haul your rubbish into town. It’s about a 20-minute drive,” he continued. Finally, you couldn’t help but stare at him. 

“Can I help you?” You questioned. He smiled. 

“No, just looking,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Take a picture and it’ll last longer,” you mumbled, standing up and leaving the camper. You followed the sound of running water to a small stream. You sat on the bank and got lost in the water. 

*

“She’s a spitfire,” Mason said, turning to face the couple. Maria picked up the envelope on the counter and hit his arm. “Ow, what was that for?” He rubbed the spot that was just hit. 

“Leave her alone,” Maria said. “You're lucky I hit you and she didn’t.” Mason rolled his eyes.

“Does she know?’ He questioned. “She must, right?” Natasha walked over to the window and watched you. You were kneeling by the steam’s edge. “I mean it’s like I’m seeing double.” Mason continued. 

“She does,” Natasha whispered. “Not sure how she feels about it.” 

“Have you asked?” He asked, standing behind her. The Black Widow shook her head. 

“She’s been through a lot. I don’t want to add more to it.” 

*

The three of you fell into a routine. You slept on the pullout couch while Maria and Natasha were in the main bedroom. By the time the Black Widow was up for her morning run, you were up playing with the deck of cards you brought from the apartment. Maria would cook breakfast and the two Avengers spent the majority of the day doing Avenger duties, trying to help their teammates in any way. While they were doing that, you explored the surrounding woods and walked up and down the creek. When they needed to go into town, you went with them and a movie to end the night. Repeat. Repeat. And repeat. The repetition of the days wasn’t bothering you but the lack of conversation with the Black Widow was driving you insane. Maria was making an effort and you enjoyed talking and playing cards with her. Every time Maria invited Natasha but she would turn her down, coming up with a bullshit excuse. You knew what she was doing. She was building a wall between you and her. It would be fine if you didn’t catch her longing looks at you or hear Maria and Natasha fight one night when they thought you were asleep. Maria called her girlfriend out on her stand-offish behavior and Natasha claimed it was better off this way, it was only temporary.

Temporary. You were only a mission. Once the metal-armed man was dealt with you would go back home. But where was home? The only parents you knew were dead, no one spoke about Agent Cruise, and you were beginning to feel safe with the couple. Even though Natasha’s behavior was upsetting you. You wanted her to acknowledge you so were going to push her buttons. 

*

She just got off a meeting with the other Avengers and you heard the last of it as you came back into the camper for some water. The man disappeared. There were no signs of him. Natasha sighed, closing her laptop. You stared at the Black Widow from the kitchen, finished the glass of water, and placed it on the counter. “I want to go home,” you suddenly said. Her head snapped to you, you thought she was going to give herself whiplash. “They said he’s gone so it’s safe for me to go home.”

“And where are you going to go?” She questioned. Your jaw clenched. 

“Anywhere is better than here,” you mumbled, ignoring the flash of hurt across Natasha’s face and walking back outside. You heard Natasha behind you. 

“You know if you go back to the States he’ll kill you,” you stopped. “That is what he’s waiting for you. He will find you and kill you.” 

“Then use me as bait,” you turned to face her. “Have the Avengers stand guard, he’ll come, you’ll play hero, and we’ll go our separate ways.” 

“That’s not happening,” her face was hard to read, not even you could read her eyes. She had been practicing. Shit. “Even if I thought that was a good idea, which it isn’t. You aren’t ready,” you heard a car pull up as Maria returned from a quick trip to the store. “You have no idea how to survive in this world. It will chew you up and spit you out.” 

“I hate you,” you said, tears swelling in her eyes. You couldn’t help it. Natasha shook her head. 

“No, you don’t. Shit poker face. Your eyes give away too much,” repeated the same thing you said to her. “Not that it’s bad, just surprising.”  

“Screw you,” you snapped and ran towards the woods, ignoring Maria calling your name. 

*

“Do I even want to know what happened?” Maria asked. Natasha put her hands on her hips and looked down at the grass. 

“She wants to go home and I told her that as soon as she sets foot into the States he’ll kill her,” she sighed. “She said we could use her as bait and I may have said some other hurtful things.” Natasha heard her girlfriend sigh and walk over to her. With gentle hands, she lifted Natasha’s head to force her to look up. Green eyes stared into warm brown ones. 

“Why are you pushing her away, my love?” Maria whispered, gently pushing away a tear. Natasha didn’t realize she was crying. 

“This won’t last,” Natasha whispered. “Once she’s safe she’ll go back to a new family and I’ll never see her again. I can’t,” she cleared her throat. “I can’t handle growing close to her and then having her ripped away from me,” Maria brought her into a hug, cradling her head. Natasha felt her fingers run through her hair. Maria’s steady heartbeat helped the Black Widow’s heart calm down. Maria smelt like sandalwood and rain but it reminded Natasha of home. Maria stepped back, keeping her arms wrapped around her. 

“But wouldn’t a little pain be worth it so you experience having her now as you’ve always dreamt about,” Maria pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Love her now because you have the chance to.” Natasha let out a shaky breath. 

“I love you,” the Russian whispered. “I don’t think I could do this without you.” Maria kissed her softly. 

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, I’m right here.” 

*

“Kid,” you spun around to see the Black Widow behind you. You weren’t surprised she found you on a small rock near the stream’s edge. “You said you want to go home fine but I’m going to train you.” 

“Train?” You questioned. 

“Yes,” she crossed her arms. “Once word gets out who you are, that man won’t be the only one after you. I was right when I said you won’t survive this world so I’m going to make sure you can. I won’t always be around to save you,” she added on quickly. Her statement made your stomach drop but there was a crack in her pocket face. She was lying. 

“Okay,” you whispered, instead of calling her out on it. 

“Okay,” Natasha repeated. “Come on, Maria is cooking enchiladas.” You stood up, wiping the dirt off your pants, and followed the Black Widow back to the camper. 

*

Training started the following morning. You were up when Natasha went for her run and you joined her. It's been a while since you had to use your full speed to catch up with someone. Natasha was a lot faster than your 5th-grade classmates. After you ran, it was a quick breakfast then strength training and hand-to-hand combat. Maria would stop the two of you for lunch then it was weapon training. That was your favorite. Instead of nightly movies, you spent your time watching fight sequences and going over old mission reports to enhance your battle strategy.

It has hard and back-breaking work but you loved it. It reminded you of when your dad would take you to his poker games and gave you the job of reading his opponents. No one expected a little girl to have a better poker face than a 40-year-old man. Even though Natasha was yelling orders at you, it was the closest you felt to the Black Widow. Was it the healthiest way to bond with the mother that abandoned you? No, but she and Maria were all you had. You liked the proud smile Natasha tried to hide when you did something well or Maria’s gentle hands to help clean the cuts and bruises you received from the day’s training. It was nice, you felt like a family no matter how grueling the training sessions were. 

*

“You're holding back,” Natasha said. You were sparing with the Black Widow with Maria off to the side, watching. You were exhausted. The couple already put you through a 5-mile run and intense strength training. Natasha promised this was the last thing for the day if you managed to pin her. Easier said than done. “Come on, kid, push.” 

“I’m trying,” you said, putting your hands over your head, trying to get more air in your lungs. 

“When you're tired this is how you grow and learn. Now come get me,” you rushed her but Natasha grabbed your arm and threw you back to the ground. You groaned, staring up at the blue sky. “Come on get up. Do you think he’ll or anyone will let you have a break?” You huffed and stood back up. “This is how you survive. You get knocked down 100 times and you keep getting up because if you don’t you will die.” You sighed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. Think and breathe. Think and breathe. It was like a game of poker. You had to make her think you were going to do something then change your attack. Who knew your parents were training you to be an Avenger? Natasha said you were holding back so you weren’t going to. You sighed, bouncing on your toes, and sprinted towards her. She expected it since it was the same move you went for prior but when she went to grab your arm, you grabbed her and twisted it behind her back. She was quick to escape and you jumped back, creating distance between you and her. There was a smile dancing on her lips but you ignored it. You had to focus. 

She made the first move and punched with her right but you blocked it with your forearm. You blocked a few of her blows and hit her a few times in the stomach. She stumbled backward and you surged forward. You grabbed one of her arms and the other went behind her neck. You turned into her, sticking your right foot into her leg, and used the momentum to fling her over your body and onto the ground. You put your knee into her chest and stared down at her. You stared at your reflection in her green eyes. You didn’t recognize the look in your blue eyes but you’ve seen it before. The man with the metal arm had the same look in his blue eyes. It scared you, seeing your eyes void of all emotions and mimicking the glare of that man. Your eyes were dark, losing the light that your parents loved so much. They were void of the color so many people envied. You were terrified of yourself. 

With shaky legs, you stepped away from Natasha and Maria was already walking over. “That man who's after me, what’s his name?” You asked, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Natasha stood up and the couple had a silent conversation with one another. 

“He’s called the Winter Soldier,” Maria said. “HYDRA’s deadliest assassin.” You recognized the name HYDRA, a name said in passing at one of your dad’s poker games. You looked at Natasha. 

“Who is he to me?” You questioned. Her jaw clenched. “Tell me!” You demanded.

“He’s your father,” she said simply. You weren’t sure if it made it worse or better. “The Red Room decided to work along with HYDRA to create the perfect weapon,” there was a deep sadness edged in every one of her words. She looked away from you and towards the woods. Your stomach turned. You were a product of a forced relationship. 

“Does he know?” Natasha shrugged. 

“I don’t know,” her voice shook. “They did this horrible thing to reset him and wipe his memory. I don’t even think he remembers me,” Maria gently took her girlfriend’s hand in hers. You felt cold all of a sudden. Every one of the weird quirks that made you different now had an explanation. 

“Uh okay,” you nodded your head. “I need a minute.” You turned around and walked into the camper, making a beeline for the bathroom and closing the door behind you. Your hands shook as you turned on the water and splashed water on your face. You tried to regulate your breathing; in for 5, out for 5, in for 5, and out for 5 but it wasn’t helping. Bile was rising in your throat. Did Natasha have a choice? Did they have a relationship together or was it forced? You closed the toilet seat and you sat down, your legs finally gave out. 

HYDRA was a name whispered once or twice at your dad’s poker game. Your parents must have known who your biological parents were. Did they care? Did they realize the mistake they made before it was too late? You sighed, biting down on a towel and letting out a scream. You hoped the towel would muffle it. 

*

Maria found you sitting on the couch with one of Natasha’s pistols and a timer. Like playing poker or another card game, you found that dismantling a gun and putting it back together calmed your racing mind. You glanced at the agent. “Where’s Nat?” You asked. 

“Ran to the store,” you nodded. Maria sat down next to you, taking the gun from your hands. “Maybe we should talk instead of playing with a gun.” 

“There is nothing to talk about,” you stared at the TV. “I mean I find out my biological mother is an Avenger and my father is a feared assassin who is trying to kill me,” you felt your throat burn as tears threatened to escape. “My adoptive parents are dead and I’m pretty sure they were the reason he found me,” you folded your hands together, squeezing them. “I finally have answers to so many questions but now I don’t want them because I feel so alone,” you sighed, angrily whipping your face. “But I’m so fucking fine.” 

“Language,” she gasped. You looked at the woman and laughed at the teasing smile on her face. “I want to show you something,” she stood up and grabbed a small box next to the TV. She handed it to you. “It was part of the arrangement,” you opened the box and saw pictures of you at all stages of your life. “Natasha agreed to give you up in return she got pictures of you and was notified if you were in trouble.” Maria sighed, picking up one of the pictures. “I know it’s very hard to see but she loves you very much even if she doesn’t say it,” you closed the box, whipping away a tear that fell. “And you aren’t alone. You have us.” 

“But when the mission is over, what happens to me then?” You asked. 

“What do you want?” You weren’t expecting the question, not thinking you had a choice in the matter. 

“I know what I want,” you answered. “But I don’t think I can have it.”

*

Natasha didn’t join you and Maria for dinner. She was outside, drinking from a bottle of vodka when you joined her. The only light was from the stars and the small camping light. You sat down next to her on the top of the picnic table. “Are you hungry?” You asked. “I can go get you something.” She smiled. 

“Not hungry, kid, but thank you.” You nodded, watching her take another sip from the bottle. 

“I’m sorry,” you told her, looking up at the stars so you couldn’t see her face. “This probably hasn’t been easy for you since I’m a constant reminder of everything. Plus I know I haven’t made it easy for you.” 

“This is not your fault. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. It just,” Natasha sighed. “Hurt too much.” You nodded, that you understood. Silence fell between you and her. 

“I asked Maria what was going to happen to me once the Winter Soldier situation was over. She asked what I wanted,” you looked at her. “Do you know what I want?” You asked. She shook her head. “I want to go live with you and Maria and meet the other Avengers.” The shock was evident on her face. 

“Why?” She whispered. 

“Because you're my mom,” you whispered back. “And I know I’ll be safe as long as I’m with you.” Natasha let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. 

“Your innocence was stolen because of all this,” she whispered, pushing some of your red hair behind your ear. “I will send out an army to find you even in the middle of the darkest nights. I will rescue you,” she whipped away a few of your tears that fell. You didn’t realize you were crying. “There is no distance that cannot be covered. I’ll be your shelter and armor. There was never a moment you were forgotten or I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“I can’t,” your voice shook. “I can’t lose any more people in my life. I think it will break me.” She pulled you into a hug and something inside you snapped. You cried. You finally cried against her. 

“Sh, dorogoy (sweetheart),” Natasha whispered, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m right here. I won’t go anywhere.” You heard the camper door open but you didn’t move from the Black Widow’s arms. You felt the table move as Maria sat down on your other side. Without looking you intertwined your fingers with Maria. She squeezed your hand. “We won’t leave you. We are right here.” You nodded your head against Natasha. You so wanted to believe them but there was a theme of people coming into your life and leaving. Maybe you were the problem. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Let’s go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” You nodded, removing yourself from Natasha. ‘Along the day,’ you thought, ‘It’s been the longest few weeks of your life. What’s one more long day?’ 

Part 2                                                                                    

[its-ya-girl-phoeni]

@zay-does-things

Every episode of the GF AU in a nutshell:

Season 1

Tourist Trapped: Local woman gets transported into a sleepy town in Oregon, more news at 11

The Legend Of The Gobblewonker: Bonnie tries to bond with her new friends and they almost get murdered by a lake monster

Headhunters: Bonnie, Dipper and Mabel try to figure out how the wax got axed

The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Local woman tries to fistfight fat Southern child

The Inconveniencing: Turns out breaking into a haunted convenience store isn't the best idea, who knew?

Dipper Vs. Manliness: Dipper tries to be "manly" while Bonnie thinks it's all a bunch of bs

Double Dipper: Dipper clones himself and Bonnie gets really confused

Irrational Treasure: Local woman and two kids spill some serious tea on the richest family in town

The Time Traveller's Pig: Dipper and Mabel screw around with time travel while Bonnie grows increasingly worried about them messing up the past

Fight Fighters: Dipper brings a video game character to life despite Bonnie's warnings

Little Dipper: Dipper wants to be taller, and discovers a magic height-altering crystal! Oh, and also Bonnie fights a weird alternate version of herself that came out of a cursed mirror

Summerween: A cryptid made of candy tries to eat people and Bonnie realizes she's basically a mom/older sister to the twins at this point

Boss Mabel: Mabel runs the Mystery Shack for three days, and chaos ensues

Bottomless Pit!: Undertale but not really

The Deep End: Mabel tries to get with a merman while Bonnie is the best wingwoman

Carpet Diem: Aw hell nah the goobers got Freaky Friday-ed

Boyz Crazy: Mabel gets her own pet boy band and Bonnie is concerned

The Land Before Swine: Everybody goes on an adventure underground to find Waddles and Bonnie fistfights a T-Rex or some shit

Dreamscaperers: Bonnie meets Bill Cipher and immediately dislikes him

Gideon Rises: Local woman punches child in the face

Season 2

Scary-oke: "GOD DAMMIT, DIPPER!"

Into The Bunker: basically The Thing but if it was rated TV-Y7

The Golf War: Bonnie punts a golf ball dude with the voice of Remy

Sock Opera: Dipper gets possessed and Bonnie is terrified

Soos And The Real Girl: Bonnie has seen enough haunted dating sims to know where this is going

Little Gift Shop Of Horrors: Bonnie is a supporting character in several tales designed to sell Stan's merchandise

Society Of The Blind Eye: "Okay, maaaaybe you guys shouldn't Fuck Around and Find Out with the memory-erasing gun. Just a suggestion."

Blendin's Game: Three goobers try to cheer up their friend on his birthday by fighting to the death in an interdimensional colosseum

The Love God: Bonnie is concerned while Mabel tries to literally drug two people

Northwest Mansion Mystery: The Scooby Gang try to solve a mystery and nearly everyone gets turned into wood and almost die

Not What He Seems: Bonnie watches family drama unfold

A Tale Of Two Stans: Bonnie finally gets to meet the man who wrote the journals

Dungeons, Dungeons And More Dungeons: The gang plays D&D with wizard Weird Al

The Stanchurian Candidate: Stan tries to become president and some morally questionable mind control is involved

The Last Mabelcorn: Bonnie and the girls beat the shit out of unicorns to get their hair as a Dorito Demon repellent

Roadside Attraction: Stan gets catfished by a spider woman and Bonnie has to rescue his dumb ass

Dipper And Mabel Vs. The Future: Bonnie witnesses family drama 2: growing up and the fear of it boogaloo

Weirdmageddon: Dipper and Bonnie try to survive the apocalypse

Escape From Reality: Bonnie and the gang try to free Mabel from her personalized prison

Take Back The Falls: Everything's pretty much the same, except Bonnie spits in the Bill statue's eye at the end as a final "fuck you" to him

[nympheaecaea]

୨ৎ where him and i meet ୨ৎ

SUMMARY ୨ৎ park wonbin stumbles upon a magical hotel and meets the girl of his dreams (literally). OR witches, elves, shapeshifters and gods run a hotel.

PAIRING ୨ৎ god!park wonbin x witch!yn

GENRE ୨ৎ fantasy, fluff, slow burn, eventual smut

FANDOM ୨ৎ riize, nct, red velvet

when yn woke up, she tasted it in the air. something was amiss with that day. 

on the weekends, she ought to wake up early. from mondays to fridays she’d sleep until the sun was in the north and the birds were no longer singing, and when she’d get up, the table would’ve been laid and lunch prepared. but on the weekends, yn was asked to eat breakfast before. thus, she woke up early on the first day of the rest of her life. 

the sun was already up, chalky and chilly, yet bright in the wintry morning. yn's home was still, where there should’ve been the pandemonium of timed errands, there was only the void of those who had left. she enjoyed that stillness. rising from bed, she pulled the silky covers and tidied the embroidered pillows–her covers weren’t stretching enough and her pillows weren’t fluffing up enough. if it weren’t for that stillness, sohee, her younger brother, would’ve barged in, plopping himself on the mattress and rolling around on top of her plushies, sungchan would’ve followed, picking the fluffiest ones to punch, withal, she found haechan to be the worst of them, he’d talk and talk and talk. for that, she enjoyed that stillness. yn smoothed her dress and braided her hair–her dress wasn’t fitting as well and her hair wasn’t curling as much.

downstairs, the morning was awakening with the ushered lull of chirping and whispering, the footsteps that scattered and the glassware that clattered. yn joined her housemates at the table–it was a glossy mahogany, so vast it could’ve fitted a village, with a surface strategically covered in breakfast foods: bowls of rice and soup, platters of meat and pancakes, and the herbal tea irene would brew for their spirit. 

“good morning, dearest.” irene, who had been engrossed in her newspaper, greeted the girl. “did you sleep well?” she asked softly, her voice always a solemn whisper. she took a drag of her pipe, the flowery smoke surrounding them. irene was a witch of primeval blood: she dried flowers to put in her pipe and brew in her tea, believing that it would connect her to the land and make her spirit stronger, she had a willowy black cat, who ran errands for her in the human world and read the morning paper, and she liked to hunt. but never animals. 

“like a baby,” yn assured her. before she could return the question, however, seulgi pushed through the swinging doors with her hip, her steps careful and eyebrows furrowed with all the concentration she had to not spill the plate and cup she carried. “there,” she sighed, as she settled both in front of yn. “a full english breakfast with freshly processed apple juice.” she smiled charmingly, her cheeks rising with a tangerine glow. “and!” she started adding, “i made it from scratch, no sorcery, at all!” seulgi finished, bouncing slightly on her feet with excitement. 

haechan, who had been silent–a blessing that yn had come to find only happened when he ate–, scoffed at that. seulgi could glide so lightly on her feet, she wouldn’t leave footsteps on snow, and she was a powerful fighter, but, oh, so graceful, it was as if she was dancing with her opponents. yet, she channeled her spirit as a newborn deer walking on its wobbly legs; sparks, blasts, and domestic fires. irene was the one to care for her, calmly dabbing a hand enchanted by runes over the flames and giving her a drag of her pipe. she was also the one to glare at the boys when they snarked, shutting haechan before he could even interject. 

yn gathered the different ingredients of her breakfast plate in a bite, and even as she chewed the rushes of flavour, she could not stop tasting the wrongfulness of the day. she decided to ask, even if she feared the answer: “say, auntie, where is uncle taeil?” she had noticed the moment she went down the stairs, taeil had not been there with his gigantic crochet sweaters and his freckled cheeks rising with his blinding smiles to greet her. 

irene took a sharp breath and put down her pipe. “left this morning,” she only said, knowing that yn would understand. “didn’t even say goodbye, that sappy bastard…” she rolled the dampness off her eyes and raised her pipe back to her cherry red lips. 

taeil’s departure would be the beginning. 

yn knew his day would eventually come, as it would irene’s, as it would hers and as it had her mother’s. just the same, she wasn’t prepared for it. 

all magical beings were called into the draft. eventually, a pigeon would deliver a letter, an apparition would come in dreams, a knight would ride to the door knocker, and eventually, they’d be sent away. yn hadn’t always feared the draft, dreaded it, perhaps, but not feared. the day a cat had squished through her window, a small package in its mouth that demanded her mother, as if she were nothing more than a weapon, had fulminated the fear. her mother never came back then, even when she sat at the table eating dinner, she was still gone. 

on monday a tiny little imp had waddled through the temple, irene swinging an elven axe in her hand at the sight of it, and taeil understood his turn had come. it had lingered in the air then, the loathing that taeil had tried to hide, but they could see. the way his smile was tightlipped, that of longing, the way his eyes were watery, those of regret. it was in the air, how he’d dance with sungchan and sing with haechan till late, so late, irene would tell the youngsters to go to bed, only to join taeil after, the way he’d ruffle sohee’s chocolate hairs and bake him cookies, or the way he’d stay in the silence with yn, just them in their own warm summery bubble, napping like cats stretched in the sun. they’d miss him, they’d miss him a lot. because, even if he came back, he’d never be the same. 

“they’re back,” irene said, the darkness of her locks swinging as she turned to the door that led to their backyard. those opened in no second, and through them johnny and sungchan walked in, both covered in a thin coat of sweat and a blush from the gelid air. “good morning boys, how was the run?” she asked them. 

“wondrous!” sungchan replied excitedly, “the weather is lovely, and the streets were so empty, i could shift into anything!” he declared, taking a seat next to yn and nudging a piece of her fried egg to himself. 

johnny nodded through the younger’s words, busying himself with filling a tall cup of dark coffee. “hey,” he started, and oh no… “why did the morning coffee never talk to the herbal drinks?” he asked into the silence that had reached the room, “because they weren’t his cup of tea!” he finished with a cackle. 

like irene, her aunt, yn was a witch of primeval blood. she had lived the beginning of her life by a river. there, she spent her noons learning and reading, entertained by the wandering spirits; the naiads, who would braid her hair and sing about the wonders of corporeal warmth, the kirin who would come to her window to watch her play the violin until her jaw was bruised, the pixies who would bring her flower crowns that would tangle against her mahogany curls, and when the moon would rise in the sky painted by veils of green and purple lights, her mother would come with baskets of the “outside”. she had always known there was another world out there, one with a roaring of engines and clocks, but she had preferred the world of her own creation, her, her mother, her aunts and, sometimes, a nice man that would bring her dolls. 

and then, the cat came. 

not a month later, she had left her small, sweet world behind. yn had followed baechu, irene’s familiar, carrying a violin case in her back and a luggage from the outside with her essentials: books so chunky she had to sit on the case to close it, gowns and bows sewed from the softest of the silks, and gifts from her unearthly friends. they had rushed through the train station, the small girl garnering looks from the passersby, old ladies who asked her questions and young boys who wanted to hold her braid. she had, of course, cried through it all. the engines and the clocks and the people and the tick tock tick tock and the click clack click clack. 

so, like irene, she came from a long line of primeval witches, and she still didn’t understand things like morning runs or johnny’s jokes. 

“it’s almost time to open up,” seulgi said looking at the watch on her wrist. “what is the schedule for today?” her eyes settled on sohee, who instantly opened a heavy book and pointed. 

the younger boy, opposed to the boyishness his features still carried, was in charge. “we’re starting to get busier with the spring equinox coming, but there is not much to do today. i think we can have the day off.” he announced, finishing with a docile smile.

“and, hopefully, we’ll have somebody new come in before the spring equinox begins.” irene said, standing from her seat and smoothing her inky skirt that covered her to her feet. irene liked long, dark clothes, the sort of clothes that made kids point at her and say ‘mommy, look, witch!’. seulgi joined her, a contrast of darkness and colourfulness, whereas irene was elegant and dainty, seulgi was fresh and boyish, with youthful freckles and mandarin hair that sat at the top of her head showing her pointed ears with gold assets. 

“it’s time.” sohee told them, eyes on the watch. 

when the clock striked 10a.m, the temple opened. 

coming soon...

[jaime0033]

Random silly game.

(Feel free to add as many answers as you want or ignore what you don't want to answer).

Describe yourself in one word or more: Chaotic, authentic, ironic, selfish (sometimes).

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius.

Any Phobia?: None.

Sports?: None, but I used to play tennis a few years ago.

PC vs Console: Console.

Cat vs Dog: Cat.

Summer vs Winter: Hmm summer.

Mortal Kombat vs Street Fighter: Both but i prefer MK.

Favorite Fictional Male Character: Ethan Chandler (Penny Dreadful), Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Venom, Michael Myers.

Favorite Fictional Female Character: Black Widow, Skarlet (MK), Bayonetta, Hellen Ripley (Alien).

Vampire vs Werewolf: Yeah both.

Reading, Writting or Drawing?: Nothing lol.

Something you do that is not very common: Lay on the floor for hours.

Beer vs Wine: Wine.

A part of a song: "An angel's smile is what you sell, you promise me heaven, then put me through hell. Chains of love got a hold on me, when passion's a prison, you can't break free" Bon Jovi - You give love a bad name.

Halloween vs Friday the 13th: Halloween.

What makes you happy: Travelling.

Tattoo vs Piercing: Both.

Your biggest fear: The fear of failure.

A Place in the World: The loneliness of my room.

Sorry, I was bored (?

TAG: @nadilu <3

[eretzyisrael]

by Gary Willig

Colonel Richard Kemp, the former commander of the British military forces in Afghanistan, spoke to Israel National News - Arutz Sheva about the assassination of longtime Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah on Friday.

"Israel’s rapid attrition against Hezbollah in the last two weeks is unprecedented in any military campaign that I know of. Certainly, no other Western country has achieved anything even remotely close in any modern war," Col. Kemp said.

"The damage done to Hezbollah’s leadership by precision airstrikes as well as the pager attacks must be added to repeated strikes by the IDF since Hezbollah began its unprovoked war of aggression nearly a year ago. Key leaders have been progressively eliminated throughout that time as well as destruction of significant quantities of Hezbollah’s weapons capability. Hezbollah still retains a large number of missiles and drones, as well as fighters to operate them and attempt to attack Israel on the ground. But any military or terrorist organization does depend heavily on a command structure and the elimination of so much of that will have seriously undermined the capability to launch large-scale coordinated attacks," he said.

Col. Kemp noted that "Nasrallah has probably already been replaced. But he has headed Hezbollah for over three decades and it will take his successor a long time to become anything like as effective — assuming even that he survived for very long himself. Lower-level leaders can also be replaced but the collective knowledge and experience that has been lost so rapidly represents an immense blow to Hezbollah. This is especially true when we consider that terrorist groups in the Middle East operate on the basis of personal networks and personal connections with their sponsors — in this case Iran. There is also a psychological element for those who might be thinking of stepping up. They were stunned by the pagers episode and are reeling daily from what is befalling their bosses. How many will want to step up to the plate against the fear that they will be next."

[aliceosemansolos]

I JS REALIZED ION HAVE A INTRO POST SO IMMA MAKE ONE.

MY NAME IS FRIDAYY!! IDC ABT PRONOUNS TBH. PERO LIKE THEY/THEM IF U CARE. IM A MINOR SO IF UR 18+ DONT BE WEIRD. IM WRITING A PODCAST CALLED GHOST TOWN, COMING OUT AT SOME POINT!! ON YOUTUBE!!

FAV SHOWS: SCOTT PILGRIM TAKES OFF, HEARTSTOPPER, OHSHC (OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB), SOUTH PARK, NANA, I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS, BROOKLYN NINE NINE, SHOUJO ANIMES, DOCTOR WHO, BOJACK HORSEMAN, YOUNG ROYALS

FAV MOVIES: HEATHERS, BUT IM A CHEERLEADER, IT (BOTH OF THEM), FEAR STREET (THE 2ND MOVIE TO BE EXACT PERO I LOVE THEM ALL), BRING IT ON ( ALL OF THEM OBVI), SCOTT PILGRIM VS THE UNIVERSE, JUNO, UP THE ACADEMY, TEACHERS, SPEAK, KARATE KID, GOOD WILL HUNTING, THE OUTSIDERS, I SAW THE TV GLOW, DEAD POETS SOCIETY

FAV BOOKS: SOLITAIRE, THE OUTSIDERS, HOW IT FEELS TO FLOAT, GIRL IN PIECES, SUICIDE NOTES, THE HEARTSTOPPER BOOKS, RADIO SILENCE, IT, THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, IF HE HAD BEEN WITH ME, IF ONLY I HAD TOLD HER, HATE LIST, YOUD BE HOME NOW, SPEAK, ACT COOL, A BREATH TOO LATE

RANDOM THINGS I LIKE: VINYLS, MUSIC, CDS, BAGGY CLOTHES, ALICE OSEMAN, DUMPLINGS, FASHION, ART, COLLAGES, MUSICALS, SWEET FOODS, BAKING, THE COLOR PURPLE ND RED, BLACK NAILS, POLISH MOVIES, MOVIE THEATRES, 80S AND 90S FILMS

FAV CHARATERS: TORI SPRING, ALED LAST, MICHAEL HOLDEN, KIM PINES, KNIVES CHAU, RICHIE (IT), BIZ (HOW IT FEELS TO FLOAT), HOLDEN CAULFIELD, TARA JONES, RAYNE SEPGUTA (IDK HOW TO SPELL HER LAST NAME), WENDY (SOUTH PARK), KENNY MCORNICK, EMILY (CLASS OF 09), SAL FISHER, JOHNNY (THE OUTSIDERS), LARRY JOHNSON, HACHI, NANA, SHINICHI, JACK MURPHY, FINNY SMITH(IF I HE HAD BEEN WITH ME-IF ONLY I HAD TOLD HER), CHOOCH BAMBALAZI, DANIEL LARUSSO, EDDIE PALIKINIKN(IDK HOW TO SPELL HIS LAST NAME), TODD ANDERSON, NEIL PERRY, MAX CAULFIELD

FAV GAMES: CLASS OF 09(THE RE-UP IS MY FAV), UNPACKING, OUR LIFE GAMES, BAD END THEATRE, SALLY FACE, RANDOM ITCH.IO GAMES, RHYTHM DOCTOR, STARDEW VALLEY, LAST SEEN ONLINE, OMORI, LIFE IS STRANGE

FAV MUSIC: RADIOHEAD, MITSKI, TV GIRL, ALEX G, THE SMITHS, ANY MIDWEST EMO, MSI, KIMYA DAWSON, THE MOLDY PEACHES, THE CURE, THE BEATLES, SUBLIME, FOO FIGHTERS, MOST DEATH METAL BANDS, CHELSEA GRIN(THATS METAL PERO WHATEVA), KORN, NIRVANA, THE POLICE, BAUHAUS, SIOXIES AND THE BANSHES, ALL GARAGE PUNK

FANDOMS IM IN: CLASS OF 09, SALLYFACE, STARDEW VALLEY, OSEMANVERSE OBVI, OMORI, SCOTT PILGRIM, BLUE PERIOD, FRUIT BASKET, TOKYO REVENGERS, KIMI NO TODOKE, NANA, PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING WITH MICHAEL CERA INVOLVED, AND PROB MORE I JS FORGOT

FAV PODCASTS: WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE, HELLO FROM THE HALLOWOODS, AND UNIVERSE FRIDAY

GO FOLLOW MY INSTAGRAM: ALICEOSEMANSOLOS‼️‼️

[sushiwriterhere]

there you are

summary: "It struck you that you wanted Bradley there, that you wanted him to walk into your shared ensuite and see how desperate you were to indulge his fantasy that this entire time, had also been yours."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 6k (this got away from me) warnings: anal (Bradley Bradshaw is an ass man, protected), reader is tipsy/drunk and rooster is sober at one point (both consent!!), oral (f receiving), PiV (unprotected, wrap before you tap irl), nudes are sent, butt plugs, anal fingering, no use of y/n.  notes: im very nervous to post this but hoping you all enjoy as much as the first one :,) this all is now its own series/universe, and i'm happy to take requests/asks about these two :) pls let me know what you think!!! my other works are here tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @waklman @joaquinwhorres @gretagerwigsmuse - pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!

read coming home to you

You weren’t sure how to bring it up to him, but you knew that there were things Bradley was holding back from you. Not in a secretive sense, just in the way that you could tell there were things he wanted that he wasn’t sure how to express.

The way you and Bradley had come together made you believe that he would tell you eventually–he always did. He told you about his mom, about Goose, about the fear in his heart that he might’ve lost Mav too. He told you about how he secretly admired Hangman and that once, just once, they’d gotten absolutely piss drunk together and hashed shit out. 

He leaned on you after long days of training and supported you after your hard days at work. It felt right with him. 

But you could tell that he was holding back sometimes. To be specific, it was during sex. 

Sometimes, when he had you bent over something and was about to press into you, he’d freeze momentarily. There would be a beat of silence, him just holding you open so that he could see everything from that angle, and you could tell he was thinking about pressing into your ass. He never went for it though, and the moment always broke. 

To be honest, you hated the idea of and jokes about anal as a gift. All the stupid memes about birthday gifts and anniversary surprises—they made you feel oddly dirty, and not in a good way. Like your desires were to be held inside until they were for someone else’s pleasure. That you were a sexual object above all and things like that could not be desired out of your own will.  

Bradley never made you feel like that. You’d had previous boyfriends and hook ups too self involved to focus on you, one even went so far as to try and claim you were lying about not finishing. But Bradley never did. Bradley always indulged you, always tried anything once unless he really didn’t want to, never made you feel like an object. 

You’d known he was different from the start, but what had well and truly solidified it was a night a few months back. Bradley and the rest of the Dagger Crew were doing their usual Friday night at the Hard Deck, and you didn’t always tag along but that night you wanted to be surrounded by people, by friends. It had been a long week—trouble at work, a fight with your mom, and too little time spent with your boyfriend during waking hours.

White wine was your poison of choice that night, not really caring that the Hard Deck was an odd place to be drinking wine. Surrounded by fighter pilots and rowdy pool games, you leaned into Bradley, warmed from the inside by the wine and the outside by his body heat. 

“Are you sure you want another glass?” Bradley was petting your waist gently as you pouted at him, knowing he was right to urge caution but wanting to indulge.

You nodded in a way that was probably a smidge too enthusiastic for his taste. Never a big drinker, you let yourself have a bit of fun on nights like these. Besides, Bradley was staying sober to drive and you suspected he sort of liked you all giggly and needy. 

By the time the night was ending, you were exactly that. He, Phoenix, Bob, and Payback were wrapping up a particularly close game of pool when you felt the sudden need to be with your boyfriend, alone. Never wanting to interrupt his time with friends, you simply let yourself make moon eyes at him. As if he had read your mind, Bradley sank the last ball and announced that you two were heading home for the night.

“Get her home safe, Rooster.” Phoenix was so lovely, it almost made you start crying. Man you really had had too much wine.

You waved enthusiastically as Bradley guided you out of the bar, making sure you were leaning on him, “See you guys later!”

He made sure you were safely buckled before turning on the Bronco, “C’mon little lady, let’s get you home.” 

As you drove back to your place, you couldn’t sit still in the passenger seat. First you were content to just look at him, giddy at the fact that you were finally living together and watching as the streetlights shadowed one part of his face and made the other part glow with that hazy orange color. Then, just sitting wasn’t enough. Scootching as close to the center console as your seatbelt would let you, you leaned on your hand to stare at Bradley.

“Got somethin’ on my face?” He asked, shifting in his seat. “You’ve got a dopey look on your mug.”

You knew he was kidding, but you were wine drunk and simply overwhelmed by how much you loved him. You let your lip turn down just a bit, knowing it would get to him. When he saw the frown threatening to crack your love sick expression, he backpedaled immediately.

“Kidding, kidding, babe. I look at you like that all the time.”

Giggling in response, you clutched his bicep gently, “I know,” You whispered conspiratorially, “Bob told me the other day he had to say your name five times to get your attention because you were staring at a picture of me on your phone.”

At that, Bradley flushed lightly. But by that point you had pulled into the driveway and you were ready to just be close to him. Before he managed to get you, you were out of the car and walking yourself to the front door. 

He barely caught you around the waist before pulling you to his chest in front of the still locked front door. There was something magical in that moment, just feeling how close he was to you, how warm he was, with the ocean and evening bugs as distant background noise.

“Let’s get you inside, okay?”

When you finally made it inside, you let yourself be overtaken by just how much you wanted Bradley. You made grabby hands at him so he would kiss you and he granted you one briefly before kneeling in the entryway to take your shoes off. He always was a romantic at heart. Standing to his full height, he took your face in his hands to kiss you gently. 

Normally you were content to let him press his lips to yours for however long he wanted, but tonight you wanted him, wanted him to let you float as he made you feel good. He didn’t seem at all phased by how needy you were, simply scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

You landed on the bed with a slight oof, and you watched in tipsy arousal as Bradley stripped himself of his Hawaiian button down and the thin white t-shirt he always wore under. He was a sight to behold, as always. Rather than the neatly cut figure of a body builder, Bradley simply looked strong. The kind of strong that carried you when you’d had too much to drink, the kind that built decks and fixed sinks. 

He leaned over you and brushed your lips together before flipping you over so that you were bent over the edge of the bed. At that angle, you were basically just free hanging, the tips of your toes brushing the floor. It felt nice, honestly, to be at Bradley’s mercy. 

The trust was implicit, you knew he’d take care of you.

He seemed to agree, brushing his fingers down your spine in a way that made you shudder, and kissing down the backs of your thighs and whispering, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

The drag of your panties down your legs seemed to last forever as you panted into the sheets and waited, impatient, for him to finally give you what you wanted. When he finally licked into you, you jerked forward with a strangled moan at the sensation of his tongue flat against your core. 

It was electric every time Bradley ate you out. His frat boy aura was deceiving–Bradley was the first man to make you finish every time you were intimate, even if he didn’t. He prioritized your pleasure in a way that somehow felt both dirty and almost feminist. 

This time was no different. He went down on you like a man starved, drinking down your arousal and the sounds that left your lips like they were the last meal he’d ever have. The way his tongue circled your clit and eventually covered it so he could suck it into his mouth made your eyes roll back in your head. 

You chanted his name as if it was the only word you knew and rocked your hips back into his face. He only encouraged it, his hands coming to rest around the curves of your ass and arching your back just right so he could access all of you with ease. 

The wine was still making you feel loose limbed, all your nerve endings singing with pleasure as your dress, that you realized you hadn’t taken off, created a delicious friction between your nipples and the sheets. The room was filled with your panting and whining intermixed with the sounds of Bradley eating you out. It was making your head spin. 

Your orgasm hit you in a way that stole all the breath from your lungs. It was all you could do to clutch desperately to the sheets in your fists and move your hips against Bradley’s face as he kept up the way his tongue was moving over your clit. You were half aware of the tears sneaking out of the corners of your eyes from how overwhelmed with pleasure you were. 

When you finally came down, for a moment, all you could hear was your own panting as Bradley sat silently behind your spread legs. His thumb dipped into you, collecting your arousal, before moving up, up, up towards your ass. You froze not unlike when one sees a wild animal and tries to not disturb it, body still thrumming with arousal despite your orgasm not even seconds before, just as he reached your other hole. He took your momentary stillness as rejection and clearly changed his mind, and moved it back to where your cum was making a mess of your pussy and the insides of your thighs.

You wanted to whine, to protest even, but it struck you how careful Bradley was. Not that you weren’t a (more than) enthusiastic participant, but he wouldn’t try something new without your vocal and open consent.

So you let him manhandle you gently face up on to the bed, let him pull your sundress off and laugh quietly at you as you covered your chest with a whine when you felt the sudden shock of the cold temperature in the room. Fully stripping, Bradley pressed you into the mattress, covering your body with his so you could feel just how warm he was.

“How are you feeling, babe?” He pulled back to peck you on the nose, a startlingly sweet contrast to the way you could feel just how hard he was against you.

You squirmed happily against the weight of his body, and decided to answer his question a different way, “Want you to fuck me, Bradley.”

The smile that spread over his handsome features made you feel like that first moment when you’d seen him at the Hard Deck, all charm and bravado as he serenaded the room. But even still, it was a look that he saved only for you, so genuine and open. You’d never tell him for fear he might stop, but it made his eyes crinkle slightly unevenly and it endeared you to him even more.

“I can do that,” He breathed against your lips as he tucked one hand around your hips so he could gently turn you over and tuck a pillow under your hips, “Are you okay like this?”

Normally, when more sober, you might’ve had it in you to complain about having to clean the pillow from the mess you’d inevitably make. But in that moment, it made something curl in your chest, the way he could have you basically face-down-ass-up and still be checking in, still making sure you were okay and comfortable. So in response, you simply wiggled your hips at him and whined a bit. 

He gave your ass a playful smack which you attempted to return by swatting behind you aimlessly. The tone turned from lighthearted to downright heady when he got a hold of your wrist and used it as leverage to lay his body down against yours. You could feel his cock sliding between your legs, but just not into you, in the most intoxicating way.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we left for the Hard Deck tonight,” He breathed into your ear, “God, you’re always so wet for me.”

When he finally slid into you, the angle made you feel like you could feel him in your chest. Bradley wasn’t breaking any world records (and you really didn’t need him to), but he always felt like he was made just for you. His thickness stretched your walls enough for the burn to fade into pleasure, and his tip always brushed right up against the spot inside you that made you want to wail. 

As he rocked into you, you let yourself float, consumed by the physical sensations that were overwhelming you. Bradley was still holding one of your hands, the other wrapped around your waist to press into your abdomen. His chest was plastered to your back, a slightly slick feeling of sweat between you as he rocked his hips into you. And god, every time his hips met yours he rubbed up against that spot inside you and you could feel yourself clench around him. 

His pants and moans were all you could hear and you occasionally turned your neck to kiss him messily. It wasn’t about the kiss necessarily, more about needing to feel his lips against yours, no matter how sloppy. 

Unlike your first orgasm, when Bradley had seemed almost desperate to push you over the edge with his tongue and fingers, this one crept up on you with the gentle rocking of his hips. It washed over you and you could distantly hear him cursing under his breath as his thrusts became stunted, him chasing his high. When he came, you relished in the feeling of his warmth filling you, and the way he didn’t stop moving his hips, the stunted motions sending waves of slightly overstimulating pleasure radiating through your body.

Pulling out of you, he untangled your limbs so he could make his way to the bathroom and grab something to clean you up with. You let yourself lay there and feel boneless–content, and taken care of.  

-

After the night that Bradley rimmed you, you figured you’d be the one to take the next step. So that was how you found yourself when he was away at work, scrolling through reviews for the best butt plugs and lube instead of working from home. There was a part of you that thought you should be mortified, that part of you that had gone through abstinence only sex education. 

The other part of you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. There was a point early on in your relationship with Bradley where you’d discussed your upbringing–not sexually liberated but not exactly quite open about it either. He had revealed that Carole had done her best but sex talks weren’t all that common between the two of them. 

Either way, both of you had settled on talking it out. But you wanted to make this step, wanted to make him comfortable after he had clearly been holding out on you.

You had to be slightly sneaky about the online order, and you almost felt bad throughout the next few days about checking through the blinds constantly when the package was supposed to be delivered just to make sure he hadn’t seen. When it did arrive, in a nondescript box with just your mailing address and a random P.O. box return address, you felt relieved.

Despite your agreement, you wanted to figure this first part out for yourself. 

You went into the bathroom, stripping and turning on the shower before locating the bottle of lube you had bought back in your bedroom. You removed the plug from where you had stuffed it at the bottom of your underwear drawer, still in its packaging. Unwrapping it, you took it and the lube into the bathroom.  

Once the water was hot enough, you stepped under the spray. It relaxed you and you could feel the arousal thrumming through your system. It hadn’t really occurred to you just how badly you wanted to try this until you were right on the precipice of it. 

When you were sure you were clean, you squeezed a dollop of lube onto your middle finger and decided to just go for it. The initial push was slightly odd, but you wanted to keep going. It wasn't as good as Bradley’s mouth, that was for sure.

By the time you had worked two fingers into yourself, you had one arm pressed against the wall of the shower for support, and were panting. The sound of you working your fingers into your ass was just barely audible over the water, and it made your chest tighten. Moving your thumb down, you could feel just how aroused you were.

You had never felt so full in your life, and you couldn’t stop the gasps and moans that were leaving your mouth. It struck you that you wanted Bradley there, that you wanted him to walk into your shared ensuite and see how desperate you were to indulge his fantasy that this entire time, had also been yours. 

It took everything left in you to slowly slide to your knees, not slip, and maintain one arm on the wall of the shower. The feelings washing over you were so intense it was close to how Bradley rimming you had felt, but stronger. When you came, the groan that escaped you was unbidden. 

You kneeled there, trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, grateful for the still running water washing away the mess you had made. But, you knew it wasn’t over yet, as you eyed the plug. It seemed to taunt you to keep going. So you did. 

The feeling was odd when you stood, after having worked it into you. You shakily turned off the shower and tried to catch your breath. After tapping your phone, you realized you had around half an hour before Bradley came home and the two of you were supposed to meet up with the rest of the Dagger Squad at the Hard Deck. 

Slowly, a half formed idea came into your head. You didn’t usually send Bradley scandalous pictures of yourself, just because of troubles with past boyfriends, but when you did he was like a little kid on Christmas Day (you preferred FaceTime if you could when he was away for long periods). This honestly felt as good a time as any to do something like that. But you also didn’t want to miss out on seeing everyone.

So, you pulled on Bradley’s favorite thong (he never really said it was his favorite, but the excited puppy-dog eyes he gave you whenever you wore it said differently). You could feel the heat rush to your face and flush your chest and neck as you tucked your feet under you and tried to get a good picture that would show just enough to let him know what was going on. It was made worse by the fact that every time you shifted, you were reminded of the plug. 

Part of you wondered if you should really be doing this, as you changed into a sundress and tried to maintain composure as you heard the Bronco pull into the driveway. Bradley knew you well, far too well, and he would be able to sus out that something wasn’t like it always was, probably immediately. The thought made you stiffen a bit, but you were in too deep now to back out. 

Plus, more than anything, this wasn’t only about him. This was about you. At some point in dating Bradley you had pretty much let go of all the hangups people had tried to teach you in your life, and had just started doing what felt good and what you wanted. Bradley pretty much always responded positively, so why turn back now.

“Babe, I’m home!” Noisy as ever, you could hear him kicking his boots off and the zipper on his flight suit coming down. 

Belatedly, you realized you had never put the lube away and you dashed into the bathroom to try and hide it. You were borderline frantic until you managed to stuff it at the bottom of a basket of period products. To be honest, he wouldn’t really care, and he might even ask why you hadn’t told him you wanted it earlier, but you didn’t want the moment to end to soon. 

Anticipation was half the fun.

“Babe?” Bradley walked into the bathroom and found you, slightly flushed, slamming a drawer shut.

“Hey, sorry, was in the middle of something.” You tried to relax, and you smiled softly at him, “How was your day?”

He walked over to you and hugged you tightly, still smelling of fuel and sweat, “Good. I’m ready for a cold beer though.” 

Ever trying to play normal, you swatted at his chest, “What about hanging out with your lovely girlfriend?”

“Well that,” He wiggled his eyebrows at you before pulling away and starting to undress, “Is a given.”

You left him to shower and get ready but not before wincing slightly when he tapped you gently on the ass. It was barely even a swat, mostly just a movement of habit, and you could see the way his brows furrowed slightly. You could tell he thought about asking, but you told him to get ready before he could act on it.

Honestly, you didn’t wince because it hurt, you did that because it was just so much. Bradley standing so close to you, smelling like fuel and sweat yes, but underneath that something so him and masculine that it made your head spin. He was taller and broader than you and it made you feel weak in the knees. All that in combination with the plug still sitting snug in you made you realize just how wet you were between your thighs. 

-

You knew you were acting slightly weird, and that Bradley had noticed. How could he not? The man seemed to know things about you before you did. But you kept sending him small smiles from where you were standing next to Bob (refusing to sit), and shooting the shit about something stupid Hangman had done earlier that day during training.

Thankfully, the Hard Deck was also incredibly busy, as it always was on a Friday night. There were people everywhere, and the atmosphere was electric. It was enough to at least keep some of Bradley’s attention off you.

Even still, you could feel his attention on you at all times. When someone brushed in front of you and gently nudged you into the chair behind you, he watched as your eyes flew wide open. What he didn’t know was the sensation of the plug jostling inside of you was what made you bite your lip til almost blood to try and hold back a moan. 

Bob cast a glance your way, offering his cup of peanuts, “Y’okay? Seem uncomfortable. We can move outside.”

You managed a smile in his direction, “N-No, Bob, that’s okay, thank you though. I think I’m actually going to go to the bathroom.”

While you were making your way to the bathroom, you could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, ever observant. You did your best to avoid the bodies thrumming with energy as they packed tightly together, swaying gently with whatever was playing on the jukebox. The air was heavy and you could hear the ringing of laughter and clinking of glass. 

When you finally got into the women’s bathroom, it felt a thousand degrees colder and you sucked in a desperate gasp of air. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Every breath you took reminded you of just how full you felt, how long you had been aroused, with your panties sticking to you in the heat.

It was then that you remembered the photo you had taken earlier, and another flare of arousal ran through you. You were white knuckle gripping the edge of the sink and trying to take steady breaths. God, you wanted Bradley so badly. 

You decided to throw all caution to the wind and opened your phone. Pressing send before you could change your mind, you made sure to send a simple text beforehand, For your eyes only :).

You knew that as soon as Bradley saw the text, he’d want to leave, so you gave yourself a few seconds more relishing the atmosphere of the Hard Deck outside the bathroom doors. 

Except, when you got back to the pool table, Bradley seemed unphased. You could see his phone peeking out of his back pocket as he stretched long and lean across the table. Settling back in next to Bob, he threw a charmed smile at you. 

“Feeling okay now?” God, you could always count on Bob to be a sweetheart. 

“Yeah, thanks Bob.” You could still feel the way your sweat was beading on your lower back.

Bradley shot a look in your direction as they finished the game up with Phoenix making the winning move, and he pulled his phone out. You froze in place as you watched him flick his thumb up to look at the notifications that had been piling up all evening. The way the blood rushed to his face, rising to the tops of his cheeks from where you knew it started on his chest. 

He cleared his throat once, then once again. He then shifted slightly, before setting his cue stick against the wall. 

“We’re uh, we’re gonna head home.” Bradley said, not particularly trying to reach above the noise. 

“Quitting on us so soon, Rooster?” Hangman flashed a shit-eating grin, “Chickening out?”

“Got more important things to do than watch you chase tail, Bagman.” Bradley seemed to have regained his composure, and he took you by the hand. 

You waved just a little before letting Bradley drag you out of the bar. He was almost entirely silent while he opened the door and helped you into the Bronco. Just like on the way to the Hard Deck, you did your best to hide the way sitting for the ride home made you feel. 

When you pulled into the parking lot, you couldn’t handle the silence anymore, “Did you–Did you like the picture?”

Bradley turned the car off, and turned to face you, the look on his face half tortured half aroused, “You’re going to kill me one day if you keep doing stuff like that.”

“So, no?” You suddenly felt shy with his eyes directly on you. 

“Babe...” And then he was climbing out, and helping you out only to press you up against the still warm door, “It took everything in me not to lean you over that pool table. When did you take that?”

You swallowed hard, trying not to squirm too hard in his hold, “When I tell you, you won’t want to be outside where the neighbors can see.”

He pulled back as if burned, then pulled you towards the house. Getting in was a rush of keys and him trying to keep his hands off you. When you finally stumbled through the door he was on you in an instant, all grabby hands and lips on your neck. 

“Will you answer me now?” His knee was between your thighs, holding you up against the door. 

All that you could manage was a high keening noise, swallowing hard. You felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t get him in you that second.

���I didn’t hear a response, baby.” Bradley now had you in his arms and was walking you both to the bedroom, palming your ass. 

You shivered, thinking about what his reaction would be, “Before you came home. Was hiding the lube when you walked in the door.”

The groan you received in response was enough to light your bones on fire, and he set you down on the bed face down and lifted your hips slightly. The sundress you were wearing wasn’t terribly short by any means, but when bent over like that it wasn’t hiding much. 

He was panting like he had just run a marathon as he pushed the hem of your dress over your hips, “Jesus Christ, baby. Did you do this for me? You didn’t have to, I–”

Before he could continue, before he could try and take some sort of faux-responsibility for pressuring you somehow, you cut him off, “Did this for me; want you, Bradley. Want you to fuck me in the ass, please. Don’t even want you to go down on me or anything just, please.”

“Where is the lube?” His voice was strained, the grip on the back of your thighs like iron.

“Left lower drawer in the bathroom, under all my stuff.” 

Bradley was off you in an instant, stripping as he went into the bathroom to search for the hidden bottle. Meanwhile, you pulled off your sundress, but left your thong on, something in your gut telling you he would want to be the one to take that off. 

When he returned, you were kneeling on the bed, blinking at him expectantly. He was almost open mouth gawking at you, and he kneeled too, just below eye level. 

“I want to make sure this is,” He swallowed harshly, interrupting himself, “I never want to make you feel like you have to do something like this for me.”

“Bradley, baby,” You stroked a hand gently down his cheek, “You have never made me feel anything but wanted, cherished, and loved. I did this because I wanted to, because I want you.”

Taking his face fully in your hands, you pressed your lips to his before he pulled back to say hoarsely, “I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you too. Now would you please fuck me.”

At that, he laughed quietly until he stopped when you started tugging at the briefs hugging his hips, leaning forward to mouth at his hardening cock, “Baby, please, I–I won’t last if you do that.”

Wordlessly, you turned over to signal your agreement, and you heard him shift behind you to push a pillow under your hips and thumb at the waistband of your thong. Scooping your hips up, he dragged it down your legs and sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of you. 

You whined when he used his hands to spread your cheeks and thumb at the plug still firmly nestled in you. A broken groan left you when he twisted it slightly and you could hear him muttering profanity under his breath–something about going to hell being well worth it. 

When he pulled the plug out, you felt empty until one lube slicked finger entered you. You hissed at the coolness of it, and Bradley pressed a kiss into your thigh in apology. Then one finger turned into two, then three. The entire time, you were getting more and more worked up, rocking back against his fingers and letting little cries leave you. 

“More, Bradley, more, please.” 

He shushed you, “I know, sweetheart, I know, you gotta let me get you ready.”

“I’m ready, baby please.” You had been waiting long enough. 

You heard the ripping of the foil of a condom and then his cock was right up against you. Bradley had one hand steadying himself on your waist, the other guiding his blunt head into you. When he finally pressed into you, it made your head swim with how full you felt. His breath was ragged behind you and his length seemed to never end. 

Pitiful whines escaped you as he rocked into you, and you could feel the excess lube dripping down your thighs and onto the bed below you. The moment his hips pressed flush to yours, you let a moan unlike anything else escape you. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long, you’re so fucking tight.” 

The hand that was holding your hip reached down to stroke over your clit and you bucked your hips up and clenched around him. When he started thrusting, you could tell neither of you were going to last long at all. 

It was an almost out of body experience as Bradley rocked his cock into your ass and leaned over to press his body flush against yours. His lips were brushing the shell of your ear, chanting about how tight you were, how good you were to him, how much he loved you–and it was all too much. 

You had never felt so full, it was almost hard to breathe. You had imagined this with him, so many times, but that could never hold a candle to the real thing. The way your fingers had felt sliding in and out of you paled in comparison to his cock, pressing into you just right.

You came when he reached under your chest to play with your nipples and you bucked wildly under him, feeling like something was exploding in your sternum. For a moment, everything whited out and all you could feel was how heavy Bradley was in your ass, how hot his body was pressed up against you, and just how wet you were. 

He came soon after with a groan, his hips stuttering into yours, finger still rubbing your clit in a steady rhythm in a way that made your head spin. 

The two of you lay there, Bradley ever so slightly holding his weight off of you with one elbow, just panting and taking in what had happened. He pulled out and you hissed, pressing your face into the mattress and letting the sheets absorb the sweat that had built up on your hairline. 

He pet your lower back softly, “You doing okay?”

You turned to him with a wicked smile, “We better have some of that lube left, Bradley Bradshaw.”

The reaction on his face was priceless, “You cannot just say shit like that to me, give me a goddamn minute.”

You giggled just a bit but let yourself sink into the mattress, his signal to get up and start cleaning up. He stood with a groan, and pulled the condom off, the snapping sound echoing slightly around the bedroom. You could feel lube and arousal still leaking down your thighs, but you ignored it in favor of turning onto your side and watching Bradley shuffle around the bathroom. 

“Hey baby,” He murmured when he came back, kneeling down to clean up between your legs, “How is the best girlfriend in the world doing?”

You wiggled your hips happily, “Good. How’s the best boyfriend in the world doing?”

“I’ll be sure to ask when I meet him.” He laughed quietly under his breath, and you smiled gently at him. 

Reaching up to pet his face, you smoothed your thumb over his cheekbone, “You know I love you right? More than anything in the world.” 

“I love you too.”

With that, he helped you stand to go to the bathroom. Once in there, you two shuffled through your nighttime routine, playfully jostling each other and him eventually tucking you into his side so he could kiss the top of your head. 

Climbing under clean sheets (Bradley had insisted before letting you get back into bed, claiming that they were far too gross), felt like sliding into heaven. With Bradley there next to you, you felt safe and loved, and you were sure you never wanted to be anywhere else.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

HEY IM SO GLAD THAT YOURE BACK

My favorite person I missed you!

I sould like to ask for a little recanation reader with ror pls!

While bruhilda is summoning hero's to fight for humanity she wanted to see if she could speak to Nyx the goddess of night and the only god that zeus truely fears and even Odin has reasons to be wary of her.

But turns out that the queen of the night had fallen in battle and has gone through recanation and now lives as a human teacher living in texas (like me in the future!)

Bruhilda had no idea about this when she summon nyxs recantations and was surprised when she was greeted by the sight of a human woman who was trying to grade her 3 grade class test from last friday.

Hijinks and whimsy ensue as nyx reader has memories reawaken during her time in Valhalla( its magic anything can happen) and regains old and new friends during her time there (and maybe love?!)

Can i also ask for her taking place in adams when fighting Zeus to show the old man what happens when you fuck around and you'll most definitely find out?

-Brunnhilde was desperate, she needed a wild card fighter, a true wild card fighter, one that could shake the gods to their core with power.

-A lightbulb seemed to go off in her head as she made the realization that only a god could do that to another god, but she had pissed off about every single god in Valhalla when she proposed Ragnarok, so there weren’t any gods that she could easily approach to ask.

-A soft gasp escaped her lips as she remembered someone, someone who had been lost long ago, in a terrible battle, the goddess Nyx, who could make the earth tremble, the sky shake, and even bring Zeus to his knees.

-It took a bit of research, as time was running out to select fighters, but Brunnhilde finally found you, finding your soul and instantly she prepared the ceremony to summon you!

-You were sitting at your kitchen table, a cold cup of coffee sitting to the side of you as you yawned, trying to get through the rest of the tests you were grading for your third-grade class. It was late Friday night, and you were trying to wrap things up so you could enjoy your weekend.

-You felt your vision going hazy, just for a moment or two before you landed hard on your rear with a sharp cry, landing on a hard stone floor before you heard a woman’s voice, “Oh no!”

-You looked up, initially confused as to where you are and how you got there before your eyes went wide, “Brunnhilde? Wait- how- stars above! What happened?!”

-Brunnhilde was in about as much shock as you as she panicked, “Lady Nyx?!” you scrambled to your feet, memories of your previous life as the goddess of the night came rushing back to you, recalling everything, including how you died.

-The Valkyrie stammered, having not realized that you had been reincarnated as a human, she had only tracked your soul, not realizing that a whole body was going to come with it!!

-You went to speak when Jack and Nikola entered the room, looking for Brunnhilde as they both had a question to ask her and ran into each other on the way and they entered to find Brunnhilde with an unknown woman, both looking a bit frantic.

-You turned, seeing these two enter and your eyes instantly went wide before your pupils seemed to take over your eyes, shrouding them in darkness as you fell back, almost as if you were going to faint as Brunnhilde lunged to catch you, “Lady Nyx!!”

-Shadows and darkness shrouded your body, enveloping you and forcing Brunnhilde back into the arms of the men who were stunned and concerned, Nikola holding his wrist up to his nose to block the dust, “What’s happening?!”

-As quickly as it started you rose, still looking similar to the form Brunnhilde summoned you with, only with pure black eyes that seemed to sparkle with stars of the night sky, wearing a flowing black gown that seemed to have stars sewing into the fabric and a crown baring the crest of both a moon and a star appeared around your forehead.

-You exhaled deeply, as if you had experienced a rush of energy before you looked over at the three individuals, “Are you all unharmed?” you seemed to be exuding an aura of power, one that they could all easily sense that you were dangerous, but there was no hostility.

-The three of them explained to you, after you asked why you had been summoned back to Valhalla, and the two humans were stunned to learn that you were Goddess of the Night herself, Nyx, brought back after you had died so long ago.

-You learned of Zeus and the plans of the other gods, to wipe out humanity rather than taking care of their messes themselves and how Brunnhilde brought about Ragnarok to give humanity a chance.

-You were easily able to tell there was something else that Brunnhilde was planning, you weren’t completely sure what, but you knew, and she could tell that you knew.

-Jack introduced himself as Jack the Ripper and instead of looking frightened, you almost looked amused, giving him a small smile, “Creatures, monsters, and myths of the night are all my children, dear one, and you are no monster- at least the one you claim to be.” He was stunned, eyes wide that you were able to tell, but then again, you were a goddess.

-Nikola was… very enthusiastic, he reminded you of an excited puppy, as he had been wanting to talk to a god and began to rattle off questions, curious about you, and both Brunnhilde and Jack thought it was amusing to see Nikola so excited.

-You were very calm on the outside, not showing your emotions, but Jack could tell you were furious, the bright, angry red color of your soul, plus the heat you were radiating out, was a clear indication as you learned of the actions of the gods over the years, how cruel and evil they had been. Humans didn’t have clean hands either, but the gods had the power to correct not only the humans, but correct themselves as well, but did nothing, choosing to turn a blind eye just to destroy everything to get rid of the problem they created and ignored.

-You looked over at Brunnhilde with a knowing smile, “May I take it that the reason I was summoned was to fight for you, dear Brunnhilde?” she bowed her head, being respectful to you, “It is- or at least to ask for your insight on the champions for the matches, if you are willing?”

-Your eyes seemed to flash, something Nikola leaned in close to see, which you thought was rather cute before you smirked, “I will fight- but only on my terms.” Brunnhilde bowed her head again, thanking you but Jack could see that her colors of elation were dancing on the inside.

-You were impressed with Lu Bu’s raw strength, being able to go against Thor of all gods, and managed to injure him, just a little, and you could see the joy on both of their faces as they had fun together, never wanting their fight to end.

-When Zeus entered the arena as the next opponent, taking Shiva’s spot, your eyes seemed to dance as you approached Brunnhilde and Adam. You smiled gently at Adam, “Forgive me, but I wish to take your place. Zeus is going to learn an important lesson today.”

-Brunnhilde nodded, agreeing to the terms and sent the update so Heimdall could introduce you while Adam gave you a firm nod, “Save my children.” Your hand on the top of his head was comforting as you gave him your silent vow before you walked out.

-Heimdall was stunned when you walked out, before stunning everyone as he shouted, “It’s the return of the night! Fighting for humanity- resurrected and ready to rumble- Goddess of the Night- Nyx!!”

-Zeus was stammering, his knees knocking together as your dark gown swirled in the wind before you glared across the field and slowly, as if he was watching something terrible in slow motion, your hands came to your hips, “Zeus- would you like to explain yourself?”

-Many humans who didn’t know you were stunned, seeing that not only Zeus, but many of the gods looked downright terrified of you, many talking about how they needed to do something to appease you and quickly, telling everyone that you were easily one of the strongest, if not the strongest, gods in Valhalla.

-You did not kill Zeus, no- you wanted him to fix his mistakes, but that didn’t mean he walked away from the match uninjured. The first bitch slap you landed sent a shockwave throughout the stadium, sending Zeus flying into the sky above before you proceeded to wipe the floor with him.

-You called out all of his bullshit, wanting to destroy humanity after he let them get out of hands, treating humans like play things, not being able to keep it in his pants, and calling out the rest of the gods as well for not doing more, as it’s their job, as the creators of humanity, to manage them, and just because they got out of hand, it’s not okay to just brush them under the rug and destroy them.

-After you left Zeus in a steaming pile of lumps and bruises your hands rose to your hips again, “We the gods are going to have another meeting- now!” nobody opposed you, not even Odin, as the gods were quick to file out, moving to the meeting hall.

-You met up with Brunnhilde and Adam who both thanked you, happy to see that hopefully something was going to happen to prevent this tournament from going any further.

-You were known as a goddess of chaos, but at this point, all you wanted now was peace, and you were going to get it, Zeus was going to make sure of that, because a happy Nyx means a happy Zeus and the other gods.

[fear-fighters-comic]

OVERLOAD: part 1

Happy Fear Fighters Friday everyone!

[bihanspookies]

Tagged by: @valyrra

Describe yourself in one word or more: Yapper

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Any Phobia?: roaches 🤢

Sports?: None

PC vs Console: Console

Cat vs Dog: Both but I like cats a little more

Summer vs Winter: Winter

Mortal Kombat vs Street Fighter: MK👹

Favorite Fictional Male Character: Choso, Yuuji, Kankuro, Seraphim (BoZ)

Favorite Fictional Female Character: Tsunade, Lara Croft, Senju Kawaragi

Vampire vs Werewolf: Both but I have been more into vampires lately

Reading, Writing or Drawing?: Reading bc I’ve gotten back into it

Something you do that is not very common: Pop my toes LMFAO

Beer vs Wine: Neither

A part of a song: “but the reeds are growing out of my fingertips. I can't go back to the river” River Lea - Adele

Halloween vs Friday the 13th: HMMM BOTH but leaning more towards Halloween

What makes you happy: My friends (online and irl), my special little guys, my dog, reading/writing/being crafty, video games

Tattoo vs Piercing: Tattoos!

Your biggest fear: Too many to name lmao

A Place in the World: Georgia Aquarium

NP Tags: @chadillacboseman @luna-di-fuoco @roofgeese @malicedragoness @elligatorrex @socially-awkward-skeleton @pinkcatminht @shellibisshe @cassieuncaged @meatgrinderminefield @euphoric-melodia

[stargalaxxy]

hahah, let’s sayyyy this story is based on…..

Passed traumatic experience ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

☆*:.｡. o *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*o .☆

Micheal Afton x Reader

Warning: maybe angst if you squint (￣^￣)ゞ

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

It was a Friday night and you had just awoken from a nap. Looking at the time on your clock it was 9:45, you mentally cringed at how long you napped for. Pulling the covers away from your body you stretched, as your feet touched the carpet floor of your room.

Looking over to view your window you noticed you left your window open, it was not out of the ordinary. As fall had made its approach, you were finally getting the sweater weather that you’ve been dreaming about! Humming a sweet tune as you walked to the kitchen for water, you were in such a happy mood nothing could take this away from you.

“Maybe I could invite Micheal for a game or two?” You hummed creating a plan for the night to make it even better. You had always invited Micheal for a game night, as you two would spend all nighters on retro games. And had a (un)healthy amount of competition for street fighter games. You had to admit those times spent together has brought you to develop an embarrassingly large crush on the man. Those nights of when Micheal fell asleep on your shoulder after a long day of working at his father’s restaurant. Has created many sleepless nights for you, as the memory would replay that very moment over and over again.

You have always thought about confessing your feelings, but the weight of rejection always won. You couldn’t help but fear the worse, it would sometime play in the back of your mind creating the worst feelings possible. You sighed as you entered your kitchen, you noticed your cat and smiled at him. “Hi pretty boy~” you cooed, however your cat seemed interested in another thing. “Hmm, what’s wrong honey? You look like you see a ghost” you chuckled as your cat continued to dead eye stare at the wall. Turning on the lights you walk over to where he was perched and look in his direction. Your attention was soon taken as well.

“Hey, (y/n) wassup? Ready for me to kick your butt in street fighter~?” Micheal’s teasing voice came through the other end of your phone, as you pulled on the cord still eyeing the black dot on your wall. Twisting it through your fingers you nervously looked around for a weapon.

“Yeah yeah, uhm, heeyy Micheal, uhm, would you like to come over maybe..” You stuttered as you shooed your cat towards the crawling dot. But you cats interested soon died, “huh, what’s up are you okay?” Micheal’s worried voice would have made your heart fluttered. If it wasn’t already bearing fast from the scattering insect on you wall, “uhm, yeah, I’m fin- ahhh! Get it get it!” You almost through your phone at it when it flew towards the kitchen isle. “Woah! (Y/n)? (Y/n)?” Micheals voice was muffled as you had dropped your phone, in favor of running to the other side of the kitchen. “H-hey, I’m coming over! Just stay put okay!” That’s when Micheal hung up the phone making his way to your house in a hurry.

Micheal arrived knocking on your door as he waited for you to come and let him in. He waited for a few seconds before he heard rushing feet, you had unlocked the door and pulled Micheal inside. “Woah! Hey what’s up? You call me and start freaking out-“ he was cut off by your hush as you pulled him to your kitchen. He saw you looking around as if heads were floating around you, the simplest thing such as a dust bunny made you jump. “Nooo, I lost it!” A groan escaped your lips, “lost what? What’s wrong?” Micheal was loosing his patience from asking the same questions and getting no answer. You stopped and spun to look at him, “the bug!” You pointed to where it was before which now was gone. Micheal could not help but look at you as if you were talking in a foreign language.

“Huh?” As the expression soon turned bored, you nodded your head once again looking around. “It was huge! L-like this big-“ you demonstrated using your fingers, “it flies too! It nearly touched me!” You squirmed as you paced around. “I think it got in through my window-“ you gasp, “do you think it touched my face!?” You patted your cheeks as you whined getting antsy just thinking about it.

You looked to Micheal still giving you the bored expression, he chuckles dryly as he sighs. “Soo, you brought me here too..?” “Kill it!” You finished as you got behind him, hiding behind his form and holding onto his black hoodie. He huffed, as he looked away walking to your kitchen as he looked around you stood there watching him. “So lemme get this straight-“ he began as he lifted objects to find the bug. “You call me acting all scared, had me thinking you were being attacked-“ you jumped making a sound as you saw it on your microwave. As Micheal followed your sight and went towards it, “scaring me almost half to death thinking you were hurt when you left the phone.” His calm voice continued as he slammed his calloused hand down on the bug making you jump. How easy he made of disposing it made you shrink back in embarrassment, as Micheal made his way towards you. Towering over your form as you looked away as he showed you the squished bug in his hand, “over some bug?” You nervously tapped your fingers. “Well, when you put it like that…” “(y/n)” his voice sounded like a parent as you sighed.

“M’sorry, I really didn’t wanna make you worry. I guess seeing bugs still get to me, even as an adult..” you looked down apologetically, Micheal shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not mad at you being scared, I’m mad at how worry I got, I guess..”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?” Micheal was now nervous, “I guess when I heard you so scared on the phone.. I really thought that, I was gonna loose you” Micheals voice began to waver as he continued swallowing the lump in his throat. “I guess, I don’t know, the idea of you getting hurt, scares me. I only have you, and I can’t afford to loose you too” hearing ‘you too’ finally struck as to why Micheal seemed on edge when going through his rant. His brother and sister, you held yourself really feeling awful for making him worry. “Micheal, I had no idea, I’m so sorr-“ Micheal shook his head, “naw, don’t worry about it. You didn’t know your fears are valid, even over tiny bugs~” Micheal, grinned teasingly as he showed you the bloody corpse of the bug on his hand. “Eww~ haha-” you laugh having a hold on Micheals wrist to stop him from moving closer. “S-still, I’m gonna work hard on this so I don’t worry you anymore” Micheal smiles, as he wraps his arm around you. “I’ll need to help then, you’re gonna need a knight to save you after all~” his teasing nature hasn’t changed much. It never failed to make you smile, “hah, sure~” you push him away as you stood close together.

The moment felt to similar to your romance shows, where the characters kiss. Was this that moment? Was Micheal gonna kiss you? Should you kiss him? Should you confess? What do should I do??

“Eh!”

Just then you were staring at the twitching antenna of the dead bug, as scream escaped your lips as you jumped back. Laughter erupted from Micheal as he almost fell over laughing, having to hold himself.

“Holy hell! Haha! I’m sorry babe haha!” Micheals laughter made you huff. “Hey jerk! What happened to, my fears being valid!” You huffed hitting his broad shoulder. “I know I know!” He looked up his laughter finally coming to a close, “but hell, your face love!” Never mind he was going in for a round two…

You huff crossing your arms, “oh, doll, I know you love me~” he looks up to you, a chuckle coming out, his eyes squinted as a smirk played on his lips as he admired your pouted face.

“Yeah, maybe..”

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Micheal my beloveddd _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

I kinda made him a teasing jerk in this haha, but I like it sooo <3

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

[timdrakesbussy]

thinking

thinking of stardew bachelorettes as classic iconic final girls…

(edited to add character desc)

Abigail as Sidney Prescott (Scream 1996)

Tough, sensible, and resourceful. Sidney isn't going to lie down and die for some serial killer. While she's just as prone to fear as everyone else, Sidney has a natural survivor's reflex that allows her to navigate life and death moments with an impressive level of poise and grace. —CharacTour

Emily as Sally Hardesty (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 1974)

Sally is a free-spirited young woman traveling across Texas with her brother and friends in order to investigate her grandfather’s grave after a series of grave-robberies […] However, early signs of resilience shows that she has more courage than most. Furthermore, Sally demonstrates an alertness that her companions seem to lack. —Ghouls Magazine

Haley as Nancy Thompson (A Nightmare on Elm Street 1984)

But compassion is only one of her defining characteristics — she’s clever, resourceful, determined, and stunningly courageous, clever enough to not just survive through good luck, but defeat and outwit her adversary. —cinephiledaydreaming

Leah as Virginia “Ginny” Field (Friday the 13th pt. II 1981)

She’s non-chaste, unconventionally athletic, and is not afraid to wield a weapon, be it a chainsaw, a pitchfork, or the killer’s own machete. Her keen perception makes her a formidable adversary for Jason […] It’s also through her earlier psychoanalysis that she’s able to penetrate Jason’s psyche. —dailygrindhouse

Maru as Ellen Ripley (Aliens 1979)

Ripley’s main ability is her ability to think fast for survival. She’s very adept at computers, electronics, mechanics, biology and physics. She’s a good knowledge of medicine and general science. She can handle any type of vehicle like no-one else and is a master at handling assault weaponry […] Her inner strength just keeps her going on for hour after hour until the aliens are definitely out of the picture. —WriteUps

Penny as Jess Bradford (Black Christmas 1974)

Perhaps it’s because she’s been accustomed to dealing with a strong personality like Peter’s that she’s such a determined fighter in the film’s final act. Jess compartmentalizes well, too. Black Christmas does a stellar job showing the bond among the Pi Kappa Sigma sisters, and Jess consistently shows up for her friends […] She’s doesn’t just have a good head on her shoulders; she’s kind-hearted, too. —BloodyDisgusting

[thatawkwardmoth]

Ideally, if Scott and Emma had kids in the main comics, would you want Megan and Ruby to co-exist? Or do you consider them similar enough to be multiversal variants of the same person, a Cable/X-man or Hope Pym/Nadia Van Dyne situation. I tend to lean toward option 2, but it would be interesting to see them try to get along in option 1.

(But also writers need to remember Emma's actual original surrogate daughter, the Hellion Catseye. She's both a daughter and a cat, which is peak cuteness. She should get a chance to hang out with her posh cuckoo sisters and/or help her mom troll her current stepdad Tony.)

(P.P.S. Emma and the Cuckoos need to meet Tony's AI daughter Friday.)

I want them to coexist. Scott Summers is meant to be a girl dad, he's meant to have a large family. I love Megan, Ruby, Megan's siblings (the one named Alex goes straight to my heart, he and his brother might fight a lot but he loves Havok so much), all of them. Emma is meant to be a mom and not in the way where it's like "she's not fulfilled until she's a mom". Her biggest fear was turning out like her father (the way she acted with the Hellions and getting them killed, the small thought she had where she was like 'im just like him'). With Megan and Ruby both, their stories boast about an understanding mother, one who was caring. She was the White Queen to everyone else but she was the mom Hazel Frost never was. Attentive, caring, not just focused on image and perfection.

Like how she is with the Cuckoos. She's a little awkward because they're teenagers but multiple times she's seen worrying about them, caring about their feelings. When they didn't return home from the first Hellfire Gala when it was sunrise, when they approached her about becoming the new White Queen, when Esme told her about her and Nathan's relationship and she helped her through that.

And Catseye being overlooked is really annoying. Because they pulled this Emma and Kate like Emma has always had her eye on Kitty being her apprentice, even though they butt heads a lot in older comics. Catseye probably wouldn't have been made Red Queen but maybe someone on Emma's team of people at Hellfire HQ.

I honestly loved the things they did with Empath still working for Emma while with the newer Hellions team. She still cares about them obviously. They're all alive on Krakoa, there is a scene where Empath is being yelled at by them because he let Sinister use their team name.

I personally am not a big fan of the Tony Stark/Emma Frost thing. I enjoyed it when it was a fling but Emma is a strong fighter for mutant rights. AVX and the other superhero teams reactions (FF4) to Krakoa were very revealing, showing how the Avengers viewed mutants and mutantkind having another nation. Tony Stark can say he's sorry a lot but it doesn't change the fact that Emma canonically holds grudges, she's always waiting for a way to get you back. They're cute together but only if you ignore the countless times Avengers have slandered the mutants, even when having mutants on their team.

Meeting Friday would be adorable, I will admit.

Anyway, I'm rambling and frazzled from work so this might not make sense.