#I’m so happy to finally say the points that have been floating in my head for the better part of a year

[king-crawler]

auguyst…….. video will done in August ……

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight Series’)

For the first time in a long time, Simon feels as if he’s walking on eggshells

He’s 6’4”, easily over 200 pounds of bulking muscle, strikes fear into the heart of each and every enemy he comes across (should they live to tell the tale that is), and yet he feels as though he’s tiptoeing, practically dancing around the issue he refuses to address

Yet you make him feel this way

It’s been months now, of this dance you still haven’t realized you’re apart of, shining on centre stage under the constant spotlight of Simon Riley’s attention, rather than one of the background performers as you seem to believe

He feels as though he’s done everything he can to get the point across to you, other than literally getting down on one knee and asking you those four special words he can’t seem to get himself to speak out loud

As easy as it is to pretend you two truly are husband and wife ‘til death do you part, he’s instead having to watch you leave base in exchange for your lonely flat each night, reminded of the fact that he’s not ballsy enough to just come out and say it to you

You make the Lieutenant nervous for fucks sake, something he hasn’t truly felt in so long he’s grasping for straws, searching for a life raft in these uncharted waters to help him stay afloat

That’s part of why he’s so confused when Gaz finally joins him and Soap in the gun range, landing a friendly smack across the taller man’s broad shoulders, saying something about how he’s ‘really happy for you LT, finally properly asked her, aye?’

“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost practically grunts out, readjusting the weapon against his shoulder as he glances through the scope of his gun, only partly interested in what the Sergeants answer is, that is until he hears him mention your name

“Just saw her at her desk, talkin’ about how she has a wedding this weekend-” Gaz has barely finished his sentence before Ghost is whipping his skull clad head around, shoving his weapon into Soap’s arms, and beelining out of the armoury towards you, leaving a pair of chuckling Sergeants behind him

They’ve never seen their Lieutenant so whipped before. And the fact that you don’t even know you have this beast of a man wrapped around your dainty little finger makes it all the more entertaining for them

They totally haven’t taken bets on how long it takes for him to break and finally confess his feelings, and Price definitely didn’t put money down on it either

Ghost may as well float into the room on a cloud he’s feeling so overjoyed at the idea of finding you sat at your desk all pretty, chit chatting away with colleagues about the wedding you’ve finally realized he intends to give you, taking all the pressure off of him

Instead, he rounds the corner and overhears the last tidbits of your conversation, pretending as though his stomach doesn’t drop out of him and onto the floor when he realizes you’re telling your desk mate about your sisters wedding this weekend

He should’ve know better, it wouldn’t be that easy

“-not that I’m embarrassed to go without someone. That I don’t care so much about.” He hears you explain, failing to have noticed him behind you quite yet. “God knows it’s been ages since I’ve gone on an actual date anyways. But this is the first time I’m a bridesmaid, and my sister keeps saying I’m apparently the only bridesmaid without a date-”

“Well aren’t you going to bring your husband?” Your colleague asks, cutting you off. Just like everyone else on base, she knows thinks you are in fact Mrs Riley, for all intents and purposes. You open your mouth to correct her and tell her you don’t have a husband, when a deep voice comes up behind you and speaks first.

“‘Course she is.” Ghost replies for you, coming to stand behind you in your chair, sneaking a gloved hand onto your shoulder to offer a slight squeeze of acknowledgment. You lean your head back to glance up at him, offering a soft smile that melts his heart more and more each time he’s lucky enough to see it, to be the reason for it. Sensing she’s now the odd one out, your coworker quietly excuses herself and goes to find someone else to talk water cooler gossip with.

“Oh Ghost! Hi!” You say, reaching your own hand up to squeeze his in return, smile widening when you notice the crinkles next to his eyes that you hope mean he’s smiling as well under the mask. “Oh, you really don’t have to. I mean- I wouldn’t want you to waste a day off just to sit through a stranger’s wedding for who knows how many hours. I barely want to go.”

You try to joke about it, but this really has been causing you unnecessary stress. Your sister apparently doesn’t have enough wedding planning on her plate as it is, seeing as she has enough time to constantly pester you about whether you’ve secured a date yet or not, despite your answer always being no. She knows it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone seriously, and that finding a date will be more of a chore than showing up without one and enduring your relative comments and questions.

Each time you told her no though, your mind wandered to the tall, dark, muscular man who liked to call himself your husband, imagining the looks on your family’s face if you were to show up with Ghost on your arm. But you never bothered to ask him, not wanting to force him into extending his kindness and charade of a happily married couple outside of work hours.

“I’d be with you for those ‘who knows how many hours?’” Ghost asks, quoting you, watching as you offer him a simple nod in return. “Then that’s the farthest thing from a waste o’ time in my books, love.”

As simple as that, the plan was set. Ghost would be your date to the wedding that weekend.

Now, Ghost was used to not having very much to look forward to in life. He could look forward to a hot shower occasionally, look forward to good pub food instead of mess hall dinners, look forward to a chance to sleep in a little later, simpler things of the sort.

But when you came into his life, he was suddenly looking forward to equally simple, but different things. He looked forward to reading your cute replies to his good morning and good night texts (he still never misses a single one, all these months later), looked forward to seeing your sweet smile greeting him when you arrived to work, looked forward to hearing your pleased hum when you took your first sip of whatever drink he prepared you that day. Essentially, he looked forward to seeing you.

Now though, he feels as if this weekend cannot come soon enough, finding himself practically giddy he’s looking forward to spending more time with you off base so much, feeling like a kid who’s itching to get their hands on their new Christmas gifts.

When he arrives at your flat almost a half hour too early (he just couldn’t wait anymore lovie, you can’t blame the poor man), and you open the door to greet him, he doesn’t think it’s fair to compare this to a gift under the Christmas tree.

No. It’s more like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

Standing before him, is the most beautiful, breathtaking vision he’s ever laid eyes upon in all his years. He half wonders if his knees are legitimately beginning to wobble where he stands, he feels so weak in the knees as he gazes upon you in your doorway. It’s still just you, the same woman he’s been seeing every day and dreaming of each night.

But you don’t look like you have every day these past months. Your hair is styled differently, your make up is a little more done up, and the thing that’s really got his mind reeling, is that instead of your regular work attire, you’re wearing a dress so stunning he half wonders whether or not you are the bride this evening. There’s no possible way someone so beautiful is expected to stand on the sidelines tonight, expected to be anyone apart from the star of the show, the centre of his the world.

You don’t take much notice of the way Ghost fails to greet you properly, standing outside your door and practically gawking at you, seeing as you’re preoccupied doing the same to him. His usual fatigues and black everything have been swapped out for black dress pants, a white button up shirt (your eyes definitely do not linger on the top three buttons being left undone, nope, not at all) and a black blazer, matching black surgical mask in exchange for the typical skeleton mask.

You two blushing, bumbling idiots in secret love manage to pull yourselves together enough to make the drive up to the venue, the car ride filled with laughter, stories, and too many stolen glances to count, each of you wishing you could pull the car over somewhere and jump each others bones instead.

At the venue, you go through the obligatory introductions with your family, simply so they couldn’t say you didn’t say hello at least once throughout the busy night, only partially intent on ignoring them later on. They’re left understandably stunned at the mention that the man beside you is your husband, and when your family members begin unloading question after question, the two of you manage to find a quick excuse each time to dash off, giggling and holding onto the other as you weave the growing crowd of guests, all too proud of your little inside joke.

You regretfully tell him that you’ll have to leave him to sit alone throughout the ceremony, though he insists you shouldn’t worry about it, lifting your spirits momentarily when he jokes that you should focus more on not tripping during your walk down the aisle, before the both of you are left bright red in the face at hearing him talking about you walking down an aisle, as if you don’t pretend to be married every day to begin with.

He truly doesn’t mind having to sit on the tiny foldable chairs that make up the seating for the ceremony, it’s only a small portion of the evening after all. And besides, his eyes certainly aren’t on the couple reciting their vows up at the altar. No, his gaze is on one person and one person only. From the moment the music kicked in and pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen stepped out to walk the aisle in their matching attire and matching smiles, his eyes have been locked on you, just as yours have been locked on his.

His size certainly helped you pick him out of the crowd with more ease, finding him amongst the familiar and unfamiliar faces instantly, as though gravity was pulling your gaze in his direction alone. Later on, neither of you could even correctly point out amongst the groomsmen whose arm you were holding on to as you walked, attention only focused on each other.

Even as you stood up front, listening to your sister and new brother in law profess their love for the other, you tried your best to appear as though you were paying them your full attention, considering you were standing up at the front and all. But it was as though you could literally feel Ghost’s eyes on you the entire ceremony, unable to stop your eyes from straying towards him more times than was surely appropriate, feeling the heat of a blush creep over your cheeks every time you saw how devastatingly handsome he was today.

By the time the newlyweds are marching back down the aisle past their cheering loved ones, wedding party in tow, your eyes are no longer pretending to look anywhere other than at him. And Simon is looking back at you, but his mind is growing preoccupied, thinking of how he can finally ensure you’ll let him walk you down the aisle now.

Because in the glove compartment of the very car he drove you up here in, only inches away from your knees the entire drive, he’s tucked away a small little box, containing the exact ring you chose from the jeweller all those weeks ago. He carries it with him everywhere, eager for the moment, the opportunity to be lucky enough to truly call himself your husband and slip the band over your finger as his wife.

And he’s decided that tonight is the night he tells you.

The night he tells you this has never been a joke to him, never been anything apart from what he really wants to be true from the moment he saw you.

To call you his wife.

[sc0tters]

It’s Time | Sidney Crosby

summary: Sidney is sent to Canada as he tries to get you back and the long awaited arrival of peanut finally happens.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, legal age gap (reader is 23!)

word count: 3.17k

authors note: peanut is now in our lives and we get the chance to see the semi happy ending for this weird couple! For those of you who aren’t ready to see this story end I’ve made it into a series that you can find under the ‘Crosby x Bedard sister!’ tag, so of course if you want to see some things for that then head to my asks and let your dreams go wild! For those of you who have made it this far in this series, I love you.

part one | previous part

It was like there was a silent competition between you two to see who missed the other more.

34 weeks

What Sidney didn’t think was that when he woke up he’d wake up to a phone call from you. It had been weeks since you last spoke and after trying to desperately call you each day Sidney was beginning to lose faith.

He had been in the gym when your contact info lit up his phone “fuck Bedard, I’ve missed you so freaking-” his words were quickly cut off ”y/n isn’t here you dickhead.” Connor grumbled slamming his bedroom door shut as he had to hide your phone from you.

If you had told Connor that he’d be on the phone to one of his idols growing up like this he would have sworn that you were lying “she refuses to admit that she misses you and as much as she doesn’t need you your kid does.” There was no secret that you were good on your own, it’s the reason why you were single throughout your time working with the Penguins.

Sidney rubbed his face as he listened to what your brother had to say “it’s all good her missing me but she doesn’t want to talk to me.” Sidney pointed out as you hadn’t even opened the text messages that he had sent you.

Connor let out a scoff “she’s stubborn and it’s like worse now that she’s pregnant.” He muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes “point is can you come see her and apologise or not?” He added hearing your voice come from the end of the hallway.

The older boy had to say that he appreciated the way your brother was protective over you “I can be there next week.” Sidney hated that he had training camps the entire week that he couldn’t say no to.

“Con you seen my phone anywhere?”

Your voice rang through the line as you stuck your head into your brothers room.

The younger Canadian player panicked as he hid your phone behind his back “nothing,” Sidney knew he should have listened for longer but truthfully he couldn’t, instead he pulled open his laptop looking to see which flights he could get to come see you.

He was getting his girl, one and for all.

35 weeks

Lounging in the pool of your parents lake house was your personal favourite activity to do especially now that you were heavily pregnant. Laying down on the little pool floatie as you and peanut got the chance to soak up some much needed vitamin D was like your little sanctuary that everyone knew not to bother “y/n someone is here for you!” Connor called out walking back into the house making his way to the porch “tell them I’m busy,” you groaned not wanting any company.

But of course the company had to follow Connor into the house “can we talk Bedard?” Sidney asked clutching to the blanket that you had bought peanut and forgot in Pittsburgh during your effort to leave quickly.

Being full of surprise your body shot up as you looked at him with wide eyes causing you to almost fall off of the float all together “boat,” was all you could get out as you had the keys on the table sat under one of Sidney’s shirts.

There was a collection of those in your closet and it was now all you were living in “hurt her and I’ll hurt you,” Connors warning to Sidney made you laugh as you got out of the water “let’s go before this one gets aggressive.” You teased your brother as you ruffled your fingers through his hair causing him to groan.

The Penguins player felt his heart burst watching the interaction between you and your brother. You seemed at peace with the younger Bedard until you turned to face your coworker “shall we go?” You asked spinning the keys on your finger.

Sidney furrowed his eyebrows as he followed you to the dock “are you sure you should be driving?” His voice was soft when he locked eyes with Betty your boat.

You scoffed looking back at him with a glare “I’m driving a boat, not a fucking mechanical bull.” You grumbled placing your hands on your hips as you continued to walk.

He chewed at his cheek as he realised he had fucked up “look I’m sorry,” Sidney mumbled as he watched you hop onto the boat.

It was a place you had told him so much about during your late nights staying up talking “just get on so we can talk.” You matched his quiet tone as you sighed.

That twenty minute ride to your favourite part of the lake was the longest ride of your life done in total silence “surprised to see you here.” You broke the silence getting up to sit closer to him.

Sidney was surprised when you let your knee hit his “couldn’t sleep knowing you were weren’t happy with me.” He confessed ignoring the way his body felt on fire as your fingers danced over his.

Something that you continued to hate about yourself was the way you were always scared of confrontation “look Sid you can fuck whoever you want really.” You shrugged readjusting the cap on your head “just because I’m having your baby doesn’t mean you owe me anything.” Sure you were hurt admitting that but you managed through most of that pregnancy without him.

He frowned hearing you say that “you’re the girl I want to sleep with,” his words made you laugh “you already did that.” You pointed out pointed to your belly.

The hockey player let a smile form on his face “not like that,” he sighed hooking his hand under your knee as he pulled you closer to him.

You mumbled something under your breath as you placed your hand on his chest “I want you for Monday coffees everyday, I want peanut to grow up in one house and one house only.” It felt like a punch in the gut that he was making this about the baby.

Thankfully nobody else was around as you partially wanted to cry “look if you want me for peanut then I’m happy to simply be friends.” You weren’t happy about that, of course you weren’t but with Sidney making you feel like it was what he wanted you had to accept it.

Sidney wanted you to shut up and listen as he tried to tell you how he felt “I want to do this with you and only you.” His announcement made you smile as your cheeks turned pink.

Part of you couldn’t stand how Sidney made you feel all mushy inside and you fully blamed peanut for this “really?” You giggled as he used his strength to pull you onto his lap.

He laughed as he grabbed your hat and threw it somewhere on the boat “deadly,” the hockey player let his fingers trace along your jaw.

His fingers moved to tuck your hair behind your face “you are really pretty you know that?” Sidney’s voice was deep as you felt his thighs tense beneath you.

In that moment you fully throughly about letting him fuck you senseless -another feeling you were going to blame on peanut- “Sid don’t fuck this up,” you warned letting your nose bump his as you stared at his lips.

You were close to letting out a whimper “promise you I won’t Bedard.” Sidney mumbled moving his fingers to the back of your head as he finally kissed you.

It was slow as he savoured every moment of that kiss like it was going to be the last kiss that he was ever going to get from you.

But of course the universe wasn’t going to let you enjoy the soft feeling of his lips “feel this!” You gasped pulling away to quickly grab his had that you placed on your belly as you pushed your shirt up.

It seemed that peanut wanted to say hello “you feeling neglected now?” Sidney laughed as he looked down to your stomach.

37 weeks

Sidney had been a nervous wreck for the last two weeks “good morning,” you smiled as you walked down stairs giving his lips a peck.

Since that moment in the boat you guys had been in this weird flirting stage where you two happily kissed whenever you were alone “hey Bedard,” he wrapped his hands around your waist as he took in what you were wearing.

You were in this blue bikini that made your boobs look fabulous as they were bigger than ever. It wasn’t helped by the problem where you had your shorts on that couldn’t even be zipper up your belly was that big “peanut behaving?” Sidney asked letting his hands slide down to your belly placing a kiss on it too.

Every morning that’s what Sidney did, a kiss for you and a kiss for her “thinking of going for a ride today,” you announced as you loved driving Sidney’s boat.

It should have made you laugh how Sidney drove the car and you drove the boat (even though he was perfectly capable of driving it, he let you have this one) “I wanted to ask you something first,” Sidney mumbled letting his lips hover over your lips.

You raised your eyebrows waiting for him to reveal what he wanted to say “don’t hold out on me now cap.” You felt your stomach rumble as you hadn’t eaten anything “let’s start with breakfast.” Sidney laughed letting you go as you had your usual thing of berries for breakfast.

A scoff left your lips “you can’t not tell me what you wanted to!” You complained as your lips turned into a pout.

Sidney smiled as his hand cupped the back of your neck pulling you closer to him as he got up “what are you going to do if I don’t?” The hockey player asked licking his lips as he smirked.

Part of you wanted to roll your eyes for playing his game “I wont kiss you anymore,” you announced clicking your tongue as you giggled.

He shook his head “know you like the feeling of my lips way too much.” Sidney swore he was a deadman walking when he saw you push onto your tippy toes to move your lips closer to his.

You frowned when he moved his lips further away from yours “don’t fuck with me when I’m this pregnant with your child Crosby.” You warned deciding that he couldn’t say no if you pulled the I’m carrying your child card.

It warmed the captains heart to be reminded of how you were pregnant with his kid but there was still one thing missing “I wanna date you Bedard.” Sidney confessed causing a grin to break out on your face.

Whilst you wanted to feel silly feeling your heart melt instead you giggled “you getting all soft on me Sid?” You teased seeing his cheeks turn a deep shade of red.

The hockey player let out a playful scoff “you tell anyone you get to see this side of me and I’ll deny it.” He warned bringing his lips down to yours “you think I want to date you?” You asked repeatedly blinking at him.

Safe to say Sidney was lost for words as he didn’t know what to do watching you stand there straight lipped “I’m just fucking with you.” You laughed shaking your head as you pushed yourself onto your tippy toes placing your hand on the back of his neck as you grazed his lips “you’re now my girlfriend, I’m getting more than just that peck.” The hockey player grunted giving your waist a squeeze.

All was going well for you until being pregnant decided to come back and bite you in the ass “wait,” you groaned placing your hand on his chest as you pushed him away from you.

Sidney looked at you with wide eyes “what?” He asked growing concerned “I gotta pee,” you announced drawing a laugh from his lips.

“Who would have thought that my daughter would be my cock block?”

You heard the statement causing you to let out a gasp “you better not be talking badly about my baby Sid,” you warned raising your finger at him letting your hand sit on under your belly.

He leaned against the wall seeing you break out into another giggle “what happened to needing to go to the bathroom?” Sidney asked licking his lips as your face turned into a scowl “forgot about that,” you groaned now heading to the bathroom.

“I got a good one,”

39 weeks

Being with Sidney as his girlfriend it felt like pure pleasure. You guys truthfully used this time to finish up the prep for peanuts arrival “you ready to go?” Sidney asked watching you walk down the stairs as you laughed seeing that the boy had made you one of his signature smoothies, fulled with all of the weird fruits that were apparently good for the baby.

You nodded as you smiled “excited to see your parents,” you mumbled wrapping your hand around the cup as you kissed his lips.

Sidney tried to give you the quietest two weeks leading up to peanuts arrival as he wanted you to have as much relaxation time as you could possibly get. But his mother was one person he couldn’t say no to (you were the other) and now that meant you two were going for breakfast with them “we’re already late,” the hockey player complained looking down at his watch.

It made you roll your eyes “if there is one time that they can be okay with me being late is when I’m this pregnant with their grandchild.” You pointed out sipping at the smoothie as you tucked your hair behind your ear letting the boy take note of how you were in his shirt as well as a pair of his basketball shorts.

He laughed taking the bag from your hand “let’s just make sure that we aren’t any later than we need to be.” Sidney explained walking to the door as you were hot on his tail.

Or at least that was until you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, it was different to the ones that you had been feeling throughout the morning. Of course you refused to tell Sidney because the last thing you needed was him worrying about you as he tried to wrap you in bubble wrap. You knew he didn’t do it intentionally but you had grown tired of watching him stop you from living life, yes you were still mad that he took the keys to the boat away from you.

The sound of the smoothie bottle hitting the floor made Sidney’s blood run cold “you okay Bedard?” He furrowed his eyebrows placing your bag on the ground as you went to help you.

You let out a groan as you clutched your stomach “we’re gonna have to cancel on your parents Sid,” you announced with wide eyes as you shook your head “she’s coming,” you added feeling the cold sensation of water trickling down your thighs as you lifted up the shirt your were wearing to see that there was now a wet patch that soaked your shorts.

Up until he saw the look of panick on your own face Sidney wanted to just about die at the thought of peanut arriving early, sure he was excited to see her. But the idea of actually being a dad to someone was now feeling all too real “let’s go have a baby?” His voice shook as he tried to act like he was ready to do this.

It wasn’t like he had already packed the hospital bags two weeks ago and they had been living in his car, not to mention that he already had the car seat installed too. So when you nodded and squeezed Sidney’s hand trying to avoid the pain that the oncoming contraction was sending you it made him realise that you two were bound to make it through any challenges that peanut sent your way.

39 weeks

Your body was tired as you tried to take a nap. Your mom had warned you about the toll that birthing a child has on someone but you really didn’t think that it was going to be this bad “I know your momma is sleeping right now but when she wakes up I promise that you’re going to love her.” Sidney spoke away to his daughter happily as she cooed at whatever he said to her.

Sidney smiled as he looked up to see you looking at him “hey momma,” the new nickname had you feeling like you were all fuzzy inside.

The hockey player made his way over to you “how you feeling?” He asked placing a kiss on your forehead as he sat next to you.

Nurses had been in and out of your room gushing about how cute the new family was “like I just had a baby,” you mumbled drawing a laugh from Sidney’s lips.

You couldn’t help it when your eyes were drawn to your daughter as she stared at her father “we did good,” you added realising why every parent always said that their babies were adorable because you swore that peanut was the cutest baby you had ever seen.

Sidney looked at you as he smiled “that’s all you baby,” he muttered using his other hand to hook his fingers under your jaw as he pulled you into a kiss.

It was soft letting you shut your eyes melting into it as you forgot that your daughter was in his arms “love you,”you swore his words were sent to the baby so you kept quiet “I see I how it is,” Sidney clicked his tongue causing you to look up at him “talking to me?” You asked looking back up at him.

He threw his head back when he let out a laugh “yeah!” The hockey player exclaimed causing your eyes to light up “I love you too then.” The part of you that wondered if he was saying this because you were now the mother to his child, didn’t care because you were simply so tired.

The hockey player let his fingers dance on your jaw “you know how to make a man feel good,” he mumbled making you laugh “shut up and kiss me.” Peanut watched her parents with big eyes as she smiled like she knew it was the first time that they had said I love you.

Of course that moment was never bound to last when the door bursted open “are you going to let me meet my niece or what?” Connor asked barging into the room causing you to jump away from the older boy.

A grin formed on Sidney’s face watching his family and yours follow in shortly after “wash your hands and then you can meet peanut.” The hockey player announced looking at you for confirmation that you agreed.

“come meet our baby.”

[scarlethexelove]

Gone

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1482

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Deaths, ⚠️Suicide⚠️, No happy ending.

Part 1: Please Don't Leave Me

A/n: So I tried to write a happy ending but I really just didn't like it at all. So my sleep deprived brain said fuck it and went all out. This broke my heart writing so enjoy the pain.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The room was mostly quiet. Nurses filed in and out as time passed. Slow tears still fell down Nat's cheeks as she waited. Xander slept soundly in her arms as she looked at his face. He looked so much like you already and her heart hurt. All she hopes is for you to pull through. It has been hours and the nurses refuse to tell her anything. She wants to make it right with you to build the family she never had, but she isn’t sure she will ever get the chance. 

A tear slips down Nat’s face onto Xander’s cheek. He scrunches his face up at the feeling but soon settles staying sound asleep. Nat is pulled out of her thoughts when the door opens. A gurney is wheeled in. Your body lying peacefully in the middle of the white sheets, but something isn’t right. You’re so pale and unmoving. She rushes over to you. Still holding Xander firmly she reaches for your hand. Words floating in the air but she can’t hear them. Her hand slips into yours and she almost recoils at the touch. You’re cold. 

Tears blur Nat’s eyes as she looks to the doctors. Their faces are full of sorrow and regret. “We tried everything we could but we couldn’t control the bleeding.” One male doctor who Nat has never seen speaks up. “W-what do you mean?” Her voice shakes. “She’s gone. I’m sorry.” He says. Nat shakes her head repeatedly saying no like her words could change the outcome. The word gone repeating in her head over and over again. You were gone and she couldn’t save you. 

The doctor slowly exits the room leaving a broken Natasha behind as she holds Xender close to her body. Her hand is now trembling holding yours. Tears falling freely down her face and down onto your pale skin. You look as though you’re sleeping, like she could shake you awake. Her heart is shattering in her chest. You are gone and you’re never coming back. Leaving her with your son. She doesn’t know how she can do this without you. You were always the best part of her. Without you all she is is a kill machine. Designed for death and destruction. That death and destruction is now taking you away from her and your son. She would do anything to trade places with you. To be the one laying in that bed cold and gone. 

The door slams open, hitting the wall harshly. A mix of fury and hurt on Wanda’s face. Her stride conveys her anger. Her eyes landing on your body as she bites the inside of her cheek trying to stay strong. Her gaze turned to the other red head in the room. Wanda points as Natasha. “You.” Wanda seethes. “You did this to her.” Her eyes turn a dangerous shade of red as she lets the anger take control. 

Natasha can’t help but lower her gaze, not able to face the other woman. “You fucking left her alone and pregnant. Now look at her.” Wanda demands. “I said look at her.” Nat’s gaze moves to your soft face. “She is fucking dead and it is all your fault.” Natasha is quiet as she speaks. “I know.” Wanda scoffs at her anger not yet dissipated. “She fucking loved you. Y/n fucking loved you more than anything but you couldn’t care less about her. All you cared about was your stupid job. You had the best possible woman at home and now you’ll never have that again. You didn’t deserve her and you sure as hell don’t deserve her son. He may be a part of you but I hope that he is all of her. That boy deserves much better than a deadbeat mother like you. You should be the one that is dead. One day I hope that this catches up to you and it fucking kills you.” The fury at Nat finally turning into sorrow at the loss of you. Her best friend will no longer be in her life and she doesn’t know how to live without you. 

Even though the both of them know that truely Nat had nothing to do with your death they both blame her. She blames herself, maybe you would be alive if she was around. Things could have been so different. You’re supposed to be a happy family and now you're gone. She tries to hold it together for as long as she can. Her legs are shaking as she tries to stay standing. Your loss cut her deeper than any wound she has ever had. 

Wanda is stroking your hair as she cries. She never expected to lose you. To lose another important person in her life but you're gone now and she can’t fix it. She can’t bring the dead back to life. 

Wanda can’t stand to see you like this anymore. She begins to move towards the door. As she does Nat’s legs give out under her as a sob racks her body. Xander cries at the sudden movement and as much as it pains Wanda to hear his cries she also knows she can’t do anything because Nat is still his mother. Wanda looks at Nat and shakes her head as the redhead cries on the floor clutching your son. “Pathetic.” Wanda murmurs as she exits the room. 

Nat knows that she has deserved everything that has come her way since your death. The Avengers are only helping her because of Alexander. But every single one of them is giving her the cold shoulder, even Clint. Their only focus has been to help Xander. She has become a shell of her former self as she refuses to eat or train. She spends whatever time she isn’t sleeping with Xander. It hurts her to see him. He is just a reminder of you and what she has lost. 

Today has been hard. No one is here to help her with Xander. Her mind racing with all the cold looks and hurtful words spewed her way. All of them ringing true in her mind she deserves all of it. All the hate and all the hurt. She looks at Xander sleeping peacefully in his crib. Her heart hurts as everything plays back. Wanda was right, she doesn’t deserve to be here. She knows what she has to do to make things right. 

Knocks on the door echo through the home. Wanda stops chopping her vegetables and placing the knife down on the counter. “Just a minute.” She calls out as she wipes her hands on the apron adorning her hips. She makes her way to the front door, not hearing the tell tell signs of an important news flash. Her hand on the handle twisting it open and pulling the door towards herself. To her surprise no one is there. Her brows furrow thinking maybe she just imagined it. She is about to close the door when she hears a cry. Wanda is caught off guard when she looks down and sees Alexander placed in a basket in front of her door.  

Wanda picks Xander up in her arms gently rocking him as she enters the house. “Vision!” She calls out as her mind begins to race. Where the hell is Natasha? Why was Xander left in a basket on her doorstep? Did Natasha leave him here? What the hell is going on?

A loud warning on the tv sounds and Wanda’s attention is drawn to the tv. A breaking news cast flashes on the screen. “Avenger Natasha Romanoff AKA Black Widow has been found dead in her home. At this time Police do not believe there has been any foul play involved. Some reports indicate a self inflicted wound. We will bring you more on this store as information is available.” The news caster disappears from the screen as it begins to play its regular programming. 

All Wanda can hear is the sound of blood rushing through her ears. Her head reeling from the information. This can’t be real can it. How can any of this be real? You are gone and now so is Natasha. Leaving Alexander with no parents. Breaking her heart as the reality that he is becoming just like her an orphan. 

Vision calls out to Wanda as she stares off into space. “Wanda?” Vision is able to finally break through to Wanda. She blinks her eyes not even noticing how they now shine with unshed tears. Her gaze met his confused one. He looks at Xander in her arms and back up to Wanda. 

Are Her words the cause of all of this? Did her words ring true? Wanda’s tearful gaze looking down at the bundled sleeping baby in her arms. Before looking back up to Vision. The only words that Wanda can manage to muster. “I killed her.”

Only time tag list: @fxckmiup @esposadejoyhuerta @megluv1 @leenasayeed @sgm616 @midastouch013 @ordelixx @simp4nat @dvrkhcld

[zaimta]

彡A VS. B

paring: laxus dreyar x reader

zai says: the ova was so funny but the fan service was certainly something, anyways laxus fic bc it's all i can write for the 10 other fairy tail stans on here this is for you

suggestive!! i’m pushing 18 let me live

it was the aftermath of the grand magic games, fairy tail won like they said they would but the little wager they made didn’t get forgotten. since the two split teams were forced to join as one, neither team could uphold the agreement. so as a tiebreaker makarov decided on an old-fashioned rock-paper-scissors to determine the victor.

erza stepped up to face laxus in the match “you got this erza! wipe the floor with em!” you cheered on your friend along with the rest of team ‘a’. erza nodded and raised her hand, laxus took up the same motion, when erza dropped her hand she had scissors while laxus had rock.

your jaw dropped and you felt your eye twitch “you got to be kidding me.” a chorus of groans and complaints came from the ‘a’ team, it was going to be a long day for all of you.

the ‘b’ team wasted no time, as soon as they won they got straight to business. laxus pulled out a map and presented it to the ‘a’ team “go to this forest to get a magic stone.”

“magic stone?” wendy asked curiously

“the forest is called ‘las puertas del infierno’.”

you blinked at him “let me get this straight you want us to go to some forest that is literally called the doors of hell, for a rock…yeah i’m not going.”

he laughed and smirked at you “that’s cute but you don’t have a choice here babe, you have till noon.”

“please i barely wanna look for some stupid rock so why would i-” mid-sentence you let yourself think, you caught the smirk he sent your way so he was sending you along with the exploration team on purpose. he knew you, and searching through a swamp for a rock was the last thing you wanted to do.

“you sick son of a bitch you are good.” you glared at him, he knew you well and you hated it, he had just what he needed to get the upper hand in the punishment game.

you slowly trudged through the swamp, disgusted by all its inhabitants and the murky water you were walking in “guys i wanna go home.”

gray looked at you from the corners of his eyes with a sigh “you’ve been saying that for the past ten minutes y/n.”

you sucked your teeth at him and rolled your eyes “that doesn’t make it any less true. let’s just find that stupid rock go we could get out of here, i mean lucy over here covered head to toe in leeches.”

“what?!” she shrieked while running around in circles “get them off me! get them off!”

“i would put im not touching those” you pointed to the leeches on her thighs “besides i just got my nails done these weren’t cheap you know.”

nastu fired a flame attack to help lucy with the leeches, while peeling off the remaining creatures he spoke to you over his shoulder “when did you find time to get those we just, got back from the grand magic games, and how did you pay for them last time i checked you’re dirt broke like the rest of us.”

lucy slapped his head “speak for yourself!” lucy had rent to pay so she could be anything she wanted but dirt broke, she's been taking jobs back to back just to pay her rent.

you shrugged "you have your strengths and i have mine, and i happen to have a bottomless wallet on my side."

happy snickered behind his paws “yeah a bottomless wallet who’s in loveee”

you whipped your neck around and yelled at happy “can it cat!” unfortunately for you he continued giggling floating off to be by natsu.

after walking through the swamp for what felt like hours, when it reality it was a long hour and thirty minutes you finally found the stone. thanks to gray and his unfortunate set of circumstances.

when you finally returned to the guild and returned the stone just for it to be used for a makeshift jacuzzi, you and lucy shared a single glance that spoke volumes.

your eyes took in laxus' chiseled body going lower and lower until your eyes rested on his happy trail, you were no stranger to this sight but it still did the job for you every time, too busy admiring his body you didn’t notice him looking at you with a lazy grin on his face “my eyes are up here y/n.”

his voice snapped you out of your daze “hm? oh yeah sure whatever.” you looked away from him ignoring the snickers coming from the remainder of the b team.

it came time for the b team to pick members from the a team. cana took wendy, mira took erza, gajeel took lucy, and unsurprisingly juvia took gray. you, elfman and natsu unfortunately got stuck with laxus.

you were stuck tending to laxus and the thunder legion by the jacuzzi while he sent natsu and elfman on a while goose chase for milk and bread, you rose a brow as they ran out of the guild for the items.

“y/n.” he smirked at you as he spoke, he pointed to his shoulder with his thumb “i want you to give me a massage if you don’t mind.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes ‘if you don’t mind’ he says, like you had a choice in the first place.

you flashed him a fake smile “gee i would have too but i don’t have a swimsuit! what if i fell in? we wouldn’t want that now would we?” you knew there was no proper way to get out of this, but even if you could stall a little you would be fine.

“i could get you a swimsuit y/n.” evergreen chipped in with a smile

you immediately turned around to face her “say what now?”

laxus smirked at you and nodded towards the guild doors "evergreen go take y/n to get a swimsuit." you couldn't protest even if you wanted to, and you were a little irritated that you didn't think your plan through. after picking swimsuits with evergreen, which you think she enjoyed more than you did, you walked back to the jacuzzi where they were all waiting for you.

laxus gave a low whistle shamelessly letting his eyes hungrily roam over your body and then pointed to his shoulders "where were we?" sometimes you couldn't deny how much you hated him.

bickslow smiled and pointed to his own shoulders “i’d like a massage too.”

you scowled at him which only caused his grin to become wider “freed is literally sitting right there make him do it. you’re all dead once this day ends.”

as you massaged his bare shoulders, you noticed the marks on his back that you left from your last night together, rolled your eyes at how he showed them off and traced a finger on the red scratches letting your nail gently glide across his back.

he pointed to his shoulder with a smirk on his face “my shoulders are up here y/n. are you feeling okay you’re out of it today?” he chuckled as he felt you glaring him down, as you massaged his shoulders you occasionally moved your hands to the base of his neck, longing to put your hands around his neck and clutch.

evergreen nudged the boys knowing it was their cue to leave, evergreen sent you a wink over her shoulder as she left with bickslow and freed "try to act civil you two we're in the guild after all."

within seconds laxus pulled you onto his lap clearly ignoring evergreen's words of wisdom. he rested his hands on your waist to support you, and he smiled up at you with a gleam in his eyes. his hands roamed your body as they moved down to your hips, he pulled you closer to him your body was flush against his and he whispered in your ear “that was a dirty move you pulled using your nails like that.” his voice sent shivers down your spine, the way he whispered those words just for you to hear despite the empty room, if there was one thing he knew how to do it was how to leave an effect on you.

you fiddled with the hair on the nape of his neck knowing how it affects him “it was just a harmless massage, you were the one who told me to give you one after all.” you gently dragged your nails from his neck into his hair, grazing your nails into his scalp, grinning when he hummed at your touch.

“you play a dangerous game y/n. we’ve got a couple more hours till the day ends let’s make it count.”

[intothegenshinworld]

Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 10 || New goals

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 3.5k+

Auteurs note: My health is worsening. This chapter has been prewritten and queued in advance because of it. I hope you can enjoy it

↺ PREVIOUS CHAPTER || ↻ NEXT CHAPTER || MASTERLIST

Almost half an hour ago, Ningguang had walked into the room to inform you of Lumine and Paimon’s whereabouts. Thankfully, they hadn’t been in trouble and were still in Liyue harbor, searching for a way to find either a member of the Qixing, Rex Lapis, or you, until they were approached by one of Ningguang’s closest confidantes.

It was also Ningguang who informed you that you were currently in the infamous Jade Chamber, which floated at a nearly impossibly high altitude in the sky. Despite their vow to keep your identity a secret,  you chose to stay hidden from the workers and remained inside. This meant that you hadn’t witnessed the vast distance with your own eyes. However, the safety of the walls surrounding you gave little comfort after Ningguang revealed your location. 

Neither Zhongli's reassurance nor hers would make you feel more at ease during your stay above the clouds.

While awaiting Lumine and Paimon's arrival in the Jade Chamber, Zhongli kept his promise by having you sit down and focus on the stories depicted on the silk tapestries.

Battles and friendships from long ago do not return your memories, but you now know why Zhongli and Xiao validate you so. In the stories, it sounds like you were close friends before you lost your memories. It must be saddening for them to realise that these moments no longer remain with you. 

Ningguang interrupts the comfortable silence once more, “Creator, Rex Lapis.”

When you look up at her, you see your beloved friends by her side. Without a second to waste, you jump out of your chair. You practically stumble forward as you race across the room. 

“Y/n.” Lumine wraps her arms around you once you’re close enough, followed by Paimon wrapping her smaller ones over hers. In this short time, you had become close with both of them. If fate would be kind to you, it’d keep the three of you connected till the end of time.

After a short moment, you remove your hands from Lumine’s back and flash her an apologetic look, saying, “I’m sorry.” You glance away with a feeling of guilt. “I wanted to come back for you but a lot happened. And by the time I could do something, Lady Ningguang had already sent someone to get you up here.”

Lumine’s lips curve upwards, “There’s nothing to forgive, so don’t apologise. Xiao ended up helping us a great deal.”

Paimon nods her head vigorously. “Paimon admits Paimon was scared when Xiao suddenly showed up and told us we were followed. Paimon thought we were going to have to fight another dragon or something, but it ended up being a simple misunderstanding.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Dragon?”

A chair scrapes against the wooden floor. When you look over your shoulder towards the source, you see Zhongli has risen to his full height. His expression is calm and unrevealing of his emotions, as usual. It’s a look that radiates power—yet is devoid of intimidation and threat. 

He takes a step forward. “It is a pleasure to see you again, traveller.”

Lumine nods her head in acknowledgment, but it’s Paimon who responds. “Paimon is really happy too. Maybe after all this walking around, y/n is finally able to return their memories.” She turns to you with an encouraging smile and puts her thumbs up. 

“We… talked quite a lot already,” You point at the silk tapestries hanging from the ceiling. “I haven’t been able to recall anything yet, but I understand my position better after a little history lesson.”

Paimon awes at the pieces of art you pointed out. She floats further into the room without much care of intrusion. “Is that you?” 

You walk up to Paimon with Lumine following from behind. The little pixie had stopped in front of a silk tapestry that depicts Zhongli and some stone frog-dragon-thing that you’ve come to know as ‘Azdaha’. On the tapestry, you hold out your hand to ‘Azdaha’, a golden glow falling onto the skull of the beast and depicting you as a saviour of sorts. Zhongli, or Rex Lapis, or Morax—the names are a lot—is illustrated to stand behind you with his arms crossed. The tapestries aren’t detailed enough to show expressions, but the resemblance is certain. 

Similar to Paimon, Lumine looks at it with interest and curiosity. Her awe is less evident as her eyes glide over the picture, always carefully hiding her emotions. She seems a bit more hesitant for some reason, slowly taking in any detail and new information.

And while you and your companions stand in front of the tapestry, Zhongli seems to have made his way over as well because he stands next to you when he starts to explain the history behind the art, 

“Mortals have always had a fascination with the Creator. This specific tapestry demonstrates a power we used to call; ‘light energy’. It’s unlike any other elemental energy—something only the Creator is capable of.”

You look at the picture with yearning. Could this truly be you? Did you belong in such a timeline once upon a time? 

All of the stories Zhongli had told you were magnificent, almost in a dramatic soap series kind of way. It makes it hard to wrap your head around everything. It’s surreal to have history depict you as such a powerful being, especially when you’re unable to deny nor confirm the facts yourself. 

You catch Paimon staring at you. A nervous laugh escapes your lips. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m also unable to believe that’s me.”

Zhongli follows your laugh with a warm chuckle. “All in due time. For now, let’s take a seat. I would be delighted to answer any inquiries you may have.”

Uncertainty builds up in your stomach as you move in one of the four chairs surrounding the square table which is boldly placed in the middle of the room.  Because of its square shape, it has four equal sides, and thus no head. A design choice for a meeting table, a place where all participants would be equal, you suspect. 

Lumine’s eyes are already fixed on you when you turn to her. She gives you a small nod as she settles in the chair on your left while Paimon takes the one on your right. Zhongli takes the only seat left and comfortably settles across from you.

Once everyone is settled, you clear your mind. The small gnosis groans as if protesting, and you clutch it tightly in the hope of suffocating the reverberating rumbles it releases.

Then, you start, “Up until now, I've worked hard to regain my memories with the gnosis, but without success.” It trembles in your hand. “It isn’t enough. And while I’m eternally grateful for your help and willingness to tell me all of these memories that I should remember, I know I’m running out of time.”

The room falls silent as you finish your story, “—every moment I waste trying to figure out how to unlock my memories with a gnosis that wasn’t meant for me, is another moment where my memories slip from me. I need to know why you thought the gnosis would help me, and why it isn’t.”

Zhongli brings the teacup from the table to his mouth. It’s a calculated action, as if he’s trying to extend this moment, which brings a newfound anxiety for the answer he’s withholding. 

Once he lowers the teacup onto the table, he answers. “The gnoses were gifted by Celestia, but created from you. In its rawest form, the gnoses should be part of your lifeforce—your aura.”

The gnosis in your hands vibrates weakly when you look at it. Aside from the occasional surge of elemental power it seems to release, you haven’t felt a personal connection to the object ever since receiving it.

Why could that be?

“If I may be so bold,” Zhongli folds his hands over each other. “Your memories should have returned by now. The energy should have recognised its Creator. It is a similar concept to the ley lines, if that helps your understanding.”

Lumine frowns. “But…?”

“But if your memories are yet to return, perhaps the problem lies elsewhere.” 

You think about Zhongli’s words. Previously, you had assumed all of your problems to disappear if you were to remember everything. But what if there was another problem? Could you have missed the bigger picture that caused your fading memories? 

While you were more than displeased at this revelation, his statement seemed highly likely. 

“You believe this because of my aura? Since only a few seem to recognise it?” You look from Zhongli, to Lumine and Paimon, over to Xiao—who remains standing upright behind his Archon. 

Zhongli hesitates. “This is a possibility we should consider, yes.”

Xiao clears his throat. “Creator. Perhaps this could be because mortals aren’t able to comprehend weaker amounts of your energy. The traveller is an outlander, maybe they’re more sensitive to it as we are.”

“No.” You reject his idea. “I’ve met ordinary people who have been able to recognise my aura. Even if it was one, it’s unlikely to be an anomaly.”

Paimon puts her hands on her head. “Wait. Paimon is confused. Doesn’t this make the problem much bigger?” 

You look over to the little pixie who is visibly distressed with the new information. The corners of your lips lift despite the gloomy situation. She cares about you—as do the others in this room. 

Your conversation with Kaeya from the day before flashes through your mind.

“Why don’t you ask Rex Lapis himself? After all, he is the best person to seek answers from. As much as I love Mondstadt, I fear our Archon is as free as its people, so I can’t advise you to come back with me onto a journey to find the lost Barbatos.”

Kaeya's eyes had been fixated on the gnosis moments prior. You had wondered why he seemed so uninterested in it. After all, getting to know that gnoses exist and seeing one right in front of him should stir some feelings in him. Regardless of those being positive or negative.  

Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, it no longer seemed as potent as before.

In the past weeks you’ve been trying to unlock your memories through the geo gnosis without prevailing. Then, you spent a few hours listening to—what should be—your memories, without ever recalling them. 

If the geo Archon can’t help you, maybe you should seek an audience with another one.

While it seems like a good next step in your mission to recover your memories, you realise how hard this information will be for Zhongli. He’d been more than willing to spend the next century reciting all of his memories in the hopes of your own returning. Unfortunately, you need more than stories to fix this problem.

“What about the other Archons?” You ask carefully.

Zhongli furrows his eyebrows for a split second. Then he purses his lips, carefully thinking about his next words. “You wish to send a message to the Tsaritsa?”

You blink. Had he assumed you wanted to reach out to the cryo Archon after your prior interaction with La Signora? While you hadn’t been too opposed to it, Lumine and Paimon had warned you about the Fatui. 

Could you trust the cryo Archon?

“I was thinking about someone closer. A neighbouring nation, if preferable. Do you think Sumeru could help us?”

Paimon gasps. Before she can speak, Lumine interjects. “We have met the anemo Archon in the past. We could return to Mondstadt. It’s closer than Sumeru and we’re already acquainted, making it easier to find him.”

With your trusty cloak and the traveller as your aid, you will be able to explore the city without an uproar. In the worst scenario, not only Lumine would have your back, but Kaeya and Albedo too. Surely people would be more trusting of you with them by your side. 

But… 

Why would you cause an uproar?

Paimon continues, “If anyone recognises you, we can simply explain the situation to Acting Head Master Jean. After all, we saved Mondstadt with her. She’ll likely trust us if we tell her what’s been going on.” 

Right. The aura problem. 

What is wrong with you? How could you forget something you were just talking about?

You nod to yourself. “I suppose we now know our next move.”

Slowly, your eyes move up and shift over your companions in the room. Xiao and Lumine keep their emotions hidden behind a mask of neutrality, while Paimon wears hers visible with pride. Zhongli though…

The geo Archon remains silent for a moment longer. Then he speaks in a low voice. “What more can he offer compared to me? Barbatos isn’t—.” His tone shifts, but he quickly regains himself. He looks you directly in the eyes. “I know I would be able to offer more guidance. Liyue might not offer a vast abundance of knowledge on ley lines, but we have more than enough Adepti ready to aid you. Ones with centuries of experience, and centuries of memories with you.”

You look over to Lumine for her advice. 

“In such a short time frame actions are better than stories. If you aren’t able to remember your past life now, who says you will after hearing more? If you feel like you’re running out of time, more Archons on your side might be better.” Lumine turns from you to Zhongli. “And while Liyue seems like a good place to stay, won’t it take a while before the Adepti can find out what is wrong with the Creator’s aura?”

Zhongli eyes her down like a god would to a defiant follower. Greed and envy fill his eyes, and the gnosis seems to groan in response. “And what do you think Barbatos has to offer over me?”

“A new perspective.” Lumine holds her ground. After a moment longer, she turns her head to you, ignoring the Archon in her presence. “In Mondstadt we will meet new possibilities. Maybe the Abyss order is involved like they were with Dvalin. If so, we will find more answers there.” 

Paimon seems to agree with that possibility as she nods her head furiously in response. Xiao keeps his views to himself. The only tell he shows are his pursed lips and the words he keeps locked behind.

Mondstadt, or Liyue. 

Or you’ll be putting your faith into an Archon with nearly no influence over his own lands, or you can test your time by waiting and hoping the Adepti will find an answer. 

Both options sound like too much of a gamble, and yet—

“Can’t we do both?” You look up at your companions. “I mean, there’s no need for me to stay here and wait. I can go to Mondstadt while the Adepti try to help me from a distance.”

No more counterarguments are presented. It is the perfect middle ground for a less-than-perfect situation.

“Okay,” Zhongli answers in a flat tone. He forces a small silence into the room as he formulates a plan in his mind. Then he speaks again, “The Adepti will be gathered, and we will aid you.”

His doubt hides behind under his stiff and business formed composure, yet you’re able to recognise his true feelings without much effort. 

He does not approve of your decision. 

On the other hand, both Paimon and Lumine seem visibly relieved at your choice of heading to Mondstadt. Lumine has a visible smile on her face and her eyes are filled with newfound hope. 

She leans closer to you, making her hair fall in her face when she tilts her head playfully. “Let’s go to Mondstadt.” She gives you her brightest smile. “Together.”Her joy is enough to overshadow Zhongli’s doubt, and so your own eyes start to shimmer with hope—Forgetting the consequences of your choices altogether.

You’re quick at gathering your possessions once you return to the inn. The few belongings you own are all gathered in your hands. You realise you own very little to your name. The book gifted to you by Lumine and Paimon, pyjamas and underwear that had been bought on your travels, and a toothbrush. Everything else you used on a daily basis, was shared with Lumine. 

In an attempt to fill the silence in the room, you ask a question that has been stuck in your mind for a while now, 

“Lumine, Paimon?” Both halt their movements in favour of awaiting what comes next. “I never got to ask this in the Jade Chamber, but what happened after Xiao teleported me away?” 

Paimon is immediately captivated by your question. Her eyes widen as if she’s recalling the events. “Yeah! Remember Childe? He suddenly got really mad at Lumine for no reason!” 

Her tone is a bit too excited for her words to be alarming to you. You await her explanation.

“He started to pick a fight with the traveller, and because she already had her sword out, he immediately attacked. It caused a big commotion in the harbor and Childe only ran away once the Millelith intervened.”

Lumine adds to Paimon’s story while she continues to pack her stuff. “He had been keeping a close eye on me ever since I entered Liyue. No doubt, every meeting with me had been in his favour. But in all honesty, I think the Fatui has been keeping close tabs on me ever since Mondstadt. It didn’t feel like a personal thing.”

You hum. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” 

“Pfft? Hurt?” Paimon snickers. “If anyone was hurt, it was Childe.”

Lumine disagrees, “If we weren’t in public, I’m not sure what would’ve happened. As a Harbinger, he has a reputation to uphold. Childe never used his full powers during the fight.”

Lumine continues. “But enough about that.” She puts her hands on her hips and turns to you. “You also mentioned meeting a Harbinger on our way back. I’m curious how your confrontation went.” 

You avert your eyes. “I’d compare it to a forced diplomatic conversation instead of a confrontation—but yes.” 

You cross your arms. It takes no effort to remember your conversation with La Signora. The deal between the geo Archon and the cryo Archon was truly peculiar. If you had chosen to stay in Liyue, you might’ve been able to figure out what this deal was about. 

“There isn’t much to note, except that she was the mediator between the cryo and geo archon for a contract. I’m unsure of whether she felt my aura or not because she saw my face.” You hum, recalling the way she addressed you. “She did not seem to like me but she had no bad intentions either.”

Paimon perks up, “Paimon is just glad Rex Lapis was there to clear up any possible confusion about your identity. If it was Childe he might’ve tried to fight you as well.”

“Mhm,” You nod your head as you look over at the pixie. “And with La Signora returning to the cryo Archon, she might be able to help me. Who knows? Maybe that’s exactly what I needed.” 

Lumine shakes her head, “Not possible.” 

Paimon seems to agree with her. She crosses her arms and huffs once. “Paimon doesn’t trust the Fatui. They only ever fight!”

“Oh?”

“That woman took the gnosis from Venti–” She screeches, “And turned Paimon into an ice cube.” 

Lumine carefully adds, “The Fatui seem to be after the gnoses. What guarantee do you have of the Tsaritsa accepting you in your current form when she won’t try to respect her other Archons?”

You frown. Your lack of information on the cryo Archon and the Fatui was making the situation difficult. Could you be making the wrong choices? And if you were, how could you trust your previous judgement of leaving Liyue?

”Do you truly believe that the Fatui has bad intentions even if Zhongli, the geo Archon, had willingly signed a contract with La Signora?”

”Oh.” Paimon rubs her head. ”Paimon forgot about that.”

”Surely he’d have the right reasons to do this, no?”

Lumine pats her travel bag a few times, making sure it’s secure before she slings it over her shoulder. ”While I understand your confusion and need for answers, I’m not sure if we’ll ever get the truth of that question. Despite Rex Lapis’ willingness to share anything with you, he didn’t seem thrilled to explain certain things in detail. At least, not with us in the room.”

She gestures to Paimon with her head. The pixie seems to visibly deflate. ”Paimon also felt like that.”

”For now,–” Lumine puts a hand on your shoulder in a comforting way, ”–let’s head to Mondstadt. It’s still early, and I’ve got a feeling it’s best to depart as soon as possible.”

You nod and place your belongings in the bag Lumine had prepared for you. ”I’m ready.”

”Paimon is too!” The pixie throws her hand in the air and races outside. ”C’mon! Paimon really wants to stop by some food stalls on the way.” 

Lumine sighs and heads out of the door, trying to stop the small companion from leaving without you. 

Your hand clamps around the gnosis. It is silent for the first time since you received it. No energy, no faint humming, no vibrations. 

…

Nothing.

You pull your cloak over your head and take the first step towards Mondstadt.

If you liked this chapter and think I deserve a comment, please leave one behind! I appreciate it a lot and it'll make me more motivated to write in the future ♡

© intothegenshinworld. Do not copy, repost, translate or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thanks for reading.

[suzukiblu]

Hello friends please enjoy another WIP excerpt from "kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit". ❤

The flight to Superboy’s presumable place isn’t too long, like he said, so Tim manages to keep his brain from running off in too many buck-wild directions, and they’re landing in front of a big but slightly shoddy-looking plain wooden house before he’s catastrophized too badly. Or like . . . maybe not too badly. In theory. Probably. 

Superboy lands in front of the porch and the little group of people who appear to have been talking on and around it, and doesn’t even let Tim down before he’s excitedly blurting, “Everybody, this is Tim, he’s my soulmate! Tim, this is, uh . . . everybody.” 

Tim’s done his research at this point, so he recognizes Rex Leech sitting in a chair on the porch, Dubbilex sitting in another with a ratty-looking little white dog in his lap, Tana Moon standing by the steps, and Roxy Leech sitting on them. He doesn’t know the dog’s name, but the rest of them he’s researched, for obvious reasons. They all look startled, then bewildered. 

Tim feels a little awkward about the whole situation, considering Superboy still hasn’t let him down from the bridal carry, but ignores it in favor of Smiling Civilian Face #4 and a polite little wave. 

“Nice to meet you, everybody,” he says. 

They all stare at him blankly for an awkwardly long moment, at which point Superboy finally seems to realize he should put him down, and then Roxy Leech lights up and jumps to her feet to run over. 

“Oh my god, SB, that’s amazin’!” she says brightly. Tim immediately clocks her as full of shit, but more in the sense of “trying to be happy for someone when not remotely happy herself” than “just being a fake asshole”. “Hi, Tim! I’m Roxy!” 

“Hi, Roxy,” Tim says, offering her a handshake to go with Smiling Civilian Face #4. She throws her arms around him and hugs him instead. Again, he’s too baffled to register the nerve-strike instinct. “Um . . . hi?” 

Dubbilex comes over with the ratty little dog in his arms and stares intently at Tim, who does his Bat-training best to think nothing but normal civilian thoughts. The dog sniffs him curiously and then jumps out of Dubbilex’s arms and straight for him. Tim barely catches him in time, which means now he’s got a dog and Roxy attached to him. Which . . . okay, sure. This might as well happen. 

Oh god, the dog’s licking him now. Why is the dog licking him now? 

“Krypto seems to approve of you,” Dubbilex observes. Tim continues to think very normal civilian thoughts, and Dubbilex tilts his head, looking . . . thoughtful. 

. . . Tim hopes these are normal civilian thoughts. 

“He’s cute,” he lies with Smiling Civilian Face #2. The dog–Krypto, apparently–looks like a wriggly wet rag, actually, but that’s not the dog’s fault. Well, aside from the wriggling. Dubbilex still looks thoughtful. 

“Don’t lick him, you little shit,” Superboy says, eyeing Krypto dubiously. 

“Aw, you don’t think he’s lickable?” Roxy asks with a sly grin, and Superboy turns bright red. 

“Don’t you lick him either,” he says, grabbing her off Tim and floating up into the air a couple feet with her in his arms. She cackles delightedly and throws her arms around his neck. Tim wonders if she’s his girlfriend. Recon on Superboy’s interpersonal relationships was . . . unclear. 

Meaning, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out if the guy was platonic about a single woman or girl in his life, so who fucking knows.

Tim really doesn’t know what that means for their mark, considering.

[lace-coffin]

I’d love to see you write anything for Tommy Hewitt x a gender neutral/nonbinary reader 🥺 absolutely obsessed with the man and desperately need more content that isn’t written by me lol

I’d be totally happy to! This is how I feel abt Asa Emory stuff I’m like I need more that isn’t written by me lol < 3 totally pulled this idea out of my ass by the way, hope u enjoy!

Thomas Hewitt x nonbinary!Reader with a new pet

Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and trudging up the stairs, your partner Tommy appears from the basement, finally finished with his messy day job and ready to shower, change, groan and fall face first into the bed in that order.

He doesn’t make it much further than a few steps into the living room before you practically tackle him, throwing your arms around his chest, unable to actually reach his neck due to his height. Tommy can tell that something has you more excited than normal as you rock back and forth on your feet.

“How’s it going big guy?! Get all your stuff finished down there?” You beam at him, wide toothy smile on display

Your partner nods a quick yes before plonking his head on top of yours like a large clingy dog. You stand like this for a while, breathing each-other in and having some well deserved skin to skin after a busy day on the farm. Pulling away much to Tommys displeasure you place a quick kiss on his knuckles to placate him for the time being.

“How about you go get cleaned up and I might just have a surprise for you..”

Tommy visibly perks at this, suddenly a man on a mission, he’s up the stairs before you can even blink.

Ah.

If only he knew it wasn’t one of ‘those surprises’

“Y/n come get this damn thing! Before I ring its fucking neck!” Hoyt screams from down the hallway. That would be your cue to leave.

Speed walking down the hallway you enter the dining room and a stifle a laugh behind your hand. On Hoyt’s lap lays Tommy’s surprise. Well more a treat for yourself that’s going to become part of his daily life too, but he doesn’t have to know that. Sitting is maybe an understatement, more flapping its wings and consequently slapping your uncle in law (?) in the face repeatedly.

With an awkward cough you come to his rescue, briskly walking over and lifting the feathered assailant into your arms, petting over its chest to try calm it.

“Shit I’m so sorry! I promise this is the last time you ever have to hold em if you don’t wanna!”

“It better fucking be” he deadpans, spitting out a chicken feather.

Grinning you move the pair of you (you and the chicken) to the living room, slumping down into the chair and positioning said chicken comfortably in your lap, waiting for Tommy to return.

Heavy thumping signals his arrival, excited footsteps move quickly in your direction and your handsome partner comes into view. Before he can even get a grunt out you’re thrusting the chicken into his face.

“Surprise!!!!!” You scream, pushing the chicken into his face, not really leaving any room for him to see in your excitement. Fumbling for a moment he takes the avian in hand and holds it at arm length, looking over it carefully before flickering his gaze between the two of you quizzically.

“Her name is Millie!! Isn’t she the cutest!” You almost scream.

He pauses for a moment, slowly nodding again and patting his large hand over Millie’s head. You’d always been a strange thing, catching Tommy’s eye since the start. floating outside of the gender boundaries without a care in the world, at this point with all the stunts you’ve pulled since beginning your relationship the chicken isn’t as big of a surprise as it should be.

“She’s lovely..is she staying here?” Tommy signs, a little confused but overall pretty taken by the chicken.

“Yeah! Is that ok? She was so attached to me every time I went to feed them and the other chickens kept picking on her” you pause, frowning.

“So I thought maybe we could keep her as an indoor pet?” You say, hope plastered on your face. How could he say no to that? He’d do anything to make you smile, even if that meant rooming with a farm animal apparently.

“I’m happy to take care of her, just keep her out of the kitchen, mama won’t like the mess” he signs, nuzzling his nose into the chickens soft feathers.

Months later down the line and it’s like Millie has always been a part of the family, she even has a fancy little cushion in the corner of the living room to lounge on when the family is watching tv.

True to your word she is kept out of the kitchen, Luda wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of keeping a farm animal inside but with all the other uh..unsanitary things that go on in this house it wasn’t like she had a leg to stand on, besides, Millie makes a great lap warmer when Luda crochets.

A handful of times you’ve even caught her nestled down on Hoyt’s chest, rumbling happily as he drunkenly snores open- mouthed on the sofa on a warm evening.

Some mornings you’re rudely awakened by impatient pecking at the wooden door, small holes in the grain as evidence of that. Millie is very particular about her food and refuses to wait, her and Tommy have that in common.

[cupidspup]

CG! BEN drowned x Little! Reader (Request!)

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All art credit goes to their original artists!! :]

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Prompt: CG! Ben helping his little cope with impure regression and cheering them up 🩷

CW: depressive episode mentions and other related things, reading not taking proper care of themselves, feminine reader w/ feminine nicknames, use of parental nicknames (dada/papa/daddy/baba), lots of comforts n fluff(!), mentions of death (Ben’s death) in a light hearted manner

A/N: I can’t find the ask I got HOWEVER im tagging the person and I’m so happy to introduce (with the same layout as before bc I love it-)

Read to end for a surprise! 💛

It’s a rainy day out when you’re cuddled into your bed. Usually you love rainy days because of how cozy and nice it is but lately you find rainy days have started to lose their charm. Most things have really. Nothing seems worth the pain and trouble of getting up in the first place. So why bother? Things are simpler in this room. You’re lucky to be here in the first place aren’t you?

You’re not even in your own bed much less your own room. Not that you prefer to be there anyway. Your home is Slendermansion and yes you have your own room but the room you take up most of your time is actually one of the other residents of the mansion itself. The one and only Ben Drowned’s room is the one you’ve claimed as your safe haven. For more reasons than one too at that. You and Ben have a very special relationship, one deeper than most would consider hust your standard relationship. It’s pure and comforting and honest, which is something you find to be very rare these days. Ben is your caregiver and you are his precious little.

You regress from time to time and he’s the one that makes sure that you’re safe, well taken care of and well loved at that. The story of you two coming together with this dynamic is a long one and one that can be saved for another time. The point is that as time has gone by, as you two got closer so did your spaces. You’re known to go through bits of depressive episodes without knowing and he’s always been there for you. Just like this one of course. So here you are, snuggled up in Ben’s dark green comforter into the tightest and snuggliest burrito you could. If anywhere is your safe space it’s Ben’s room with a maximum of five feet between the two of you (at your most vulnerable of course). And Ben has no issue with this whatsoever. He’ll never let another living soul besides you know but he enjoys you being close to him as much as you do and he wouldn’t change that for anything. Caring for you and providing security for you brings him a differently kind of joy and healing.

As you sigh and nuzzle into the pillow on his bed you start to dissociate. You feel so…fuzzy and far away. Like you’re floating but falling at the same time. What a weird thing to feel. Rainy days usually helped these little bouts of dissociation but not today. Not yesterday or this week. When was the last time you took a second to enjoy the rain? …. You can’t seem to remember.

You hear a faint voice call for you but you can’t break out of your trance. The raindrops racing down the glass of the window has you locked in. You’re not Al that concerned about being conscious anyway. It’s easier this way.

Then there’s a gentle nudge on your leg.

“Baby? It’s been a while since you’ve eaten why don’t we go get a quick snack?”

You finally blink and raise your head to look up in his direction. He’s turned around from his gaming chair and desk, one hand on his mouse and the other still gently resting on your leg. You shrug in response and lay your head back down.

“Not hungry.”

“Y/N… it’s been five hours, how could you not be hungry?” He says gently, his thumb rubbing your calf lightly. “Cmon you don’t even have to get up, I’ll carry you there if you want hm? How does a piggy back ride sound? Or do you wanna be my pretty princess just like Zelda?” He gives you a reassuring smile with relaxed eyes and opens his arms for you. He always calls you his Zelda whether you’re bug or little. That’s just his personal pet name for you hust because you’re his special princess. One of his elf ears twitch slightly as he waits for your answer. It’s cute you can admit that part. But getting up is still so gross right now all you want to do is just be here. You shake your head no and cuddle the blankets around you closer. There’s a small pause but you hear him sigh softly before getting up.

“Alright Y/N, that’s okay. I’m still going to make you a little snack though because seeing you not eat worries me.”

Your hand clenches around the blanket you have. Something about that makes your heart ache. You try your best to hold yourself together but tears threaten to fall from your eyes. You don’t know why but you don’t want Ben to see you like this, even though he’s seen you like this more than a thousand times before. So why is it so difficult now?

He walks to the door frame and opens the door but looks back at you one last time, telling you one last thing before closing the door on his way out.

“I care about you princess, so it’s okay to let go if you need to.”

And that’s it. That’s the what breaks you.

The tears you were holding in before finally fall and they land onto the pillow making a wet spot onto the soft fabric. Why are you crying? There’s no reason to cry it’s nothing. Why should he care for someone like you? You just blew him off when all he wanted was to pamper his person. Not only that but his princess. God you really blew it. You sniffle and let your tears fall, your breath shuddering as you cry. It’s so hard and you can’t even pinpoint why. You’re so busy crying that you don’t even realize that you start to regress, everything hitting you all at once. You made your best friend leave. Not just your best friend but your caregiver, your beloved daddy. Who’s always so patient and loving and gentle to you.

‘Ugh m so stupid’

You whimper and wipe your eyes messily. It’s embarrassing when you’re like this. Regressing is one thing but impurely regressing is another. It’s been a while since it’s happened but you always hate it the most. You curl up into the comforter, covering yourself all the way so no one can see you. You cry under the comforter, hoping no one will find you but, of course, a gentle hand is placed on top of you. It rubs your back in circles slowly, you know exactly who it is and you’re embarrassed but you can’t help but feel comforted by the touch. You take a peek out from the covers and of course, Ben is there crouched by the bed side looking right back at you. His eyes endless pools of black with only two glowing red dots to show you he’s looking straight back at you. His expression is still relaxed like before and he smiles at you softy.

“Hi baby ♡ “

You coo slightly, a shameful look all over your face. “Mmm… h-hi baba”

His eye brows curve slightly and he moves the comforter from your face so he can see you more.

“Aweee I haven’t heard you call me that in a long time, cutie. You’re really little today huh?”

You nod in agreement but look away, more tears still rolling down your puffy red cheeks. He wipes your tears away and gently fixes your hair. “Yeah I thought so, you never act like this unless you’re in one of your depressy moods. It’s okay little fairy, papa’s here to take care of you now.” He says softy. Ben holds up a plate of finger food, everything on the plate is perfectly baby safe and everything you always favor when you’re particularly little. He saw this comin a mile away and it touches your heart so gently it makes more tears fall from your eyes. What a thoughtful daddy to do all this for you. You sniffle and your lip pouts as you do. He chuckles at the sight and picks up one of the snacks, holding it to your lips as he waits for you to take a bite. “Cmon little lady, have something to eat I bet your little tummy is just waiting to have something yummy in it.”

You take the snack into your mouth and sit up, Ben climbs onto the bed with you and sits with his legs cross-crossed before bringing you into his lap. “There we go, that’s my girl. So strong for me! Can you eat some more? Or are you thirsty?” He holds up a sippy cup with some handles on the side and you’re able to hold it by yourself but that doesn’t stop him from holding it for you anyway. You nod and point to the sippy and he smiles, his ears wiggling happily as he nods. “Sure cutie, open up for dada.”

Ben gives you the sippy and you hold onto it as you take a few long gulps. A breakdown is a lot of hard work! And it’s left you parched. But like mentioned earlier, Ben saw that coming a mile away and has thought of every single thing you’d need. He rests his head onto yours and plays with your hair softly. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going right now if you’re not ready but know I’d still like to know when you are. Not because I’m nosy but I want to support you love bug. I wanna make sure I’m helping you the same way you help me, princess.”

“M sorry dada..”

“No you don’t have to be sorry for anything baby. You are allowed to have your privacy and your private feelings, I just want to know how you are so I know how to help is all. You’re not in trouble at all baby and if you ever need anything and you know I mean anything I’d be more than happy to give it to you.” He kisses your forehead and hugs you, setting the sippy cup down. “If anyone is bothering you I’ll get rid of them without a thought, if theres something I did we can talk it through, if life just seems more unfair than usual then you can always come to me for comfort.”

He looks at you with a sweet smile, “we’re friends at the end of the day aren’t we sweetie?” This melts your heart and you nod before giving him a huge tight hug. He’s your everything but it’s comforting to know he’s still your friend at the end of the day.

“Fankies Bemmie ♡"

He chuckles and ruffles your hair. “Of course, cutie.”

Ben looks out of the window for a moment and an idea strikes his mind.

“Hey, Y/N”

“Mm?” You say as you look to him with a puzzled face.

“Wanna do something fun?” Somehow in those void-like eyes if his theres a twinkle in them. This is definitely worth checking out, so you nod at him with a smile.

“Alrighty then let’s go my little Zelda!” He gets up from the bed, carrying you bridal style as he heads for the door of the room. Not forgetting your snacks, sippy and a blanket he opens the door. What you don’t know is that he also grabbed a secret item without you looking. He makes his way through the corridors of the mansion to the front door, everyone not really paying either of you attention. The only people who really acknowledge you are Toby and his own little who just came back from outside themselves. They’re both giggling and Tony is knelt by his littles feet, helping them take their rain boots off. But he’s struggling just a tad, his tics can get in the way sometimes.

“Hey Ben! Hey Y/N!”

You wave a small hello and Toby’s little gives a big wave back at you which makes you smile. Ben bounces you lightly as he nods in Toby’s direction. “Sup dude. Looks like you guys had a good time.”

Toby finally gets the second boot off and starts taking off their raincoat. “Oh yeah it’s…it’s raining like cra-crazy outside but..but it’s great!” He hangs the raincoat up on the coat rack and grabs his littles hand. “Have…have fun guys!” Ben gives him a wave before opening the door.

“Thanks dude also you forgot to take your boots off go clean up before Slender kills you for real this time.”

“Oh shoot th-anks man.”

With that you and Ben are out the door and he walks to the front porch. He sets your snacks and sippy down before sitting down with you in his lap again. He wraps you both in the blanket he brought and shows you the mystery item: an iPod he’s had since 2010 with some wired headphones. “You feel like watching the rain with your daddy and listening to some music, princess?” You smile and nod as he puts one earbud into your ear but then pause, looking up to him and tugging at his shirt.

“But dada, I thought you no like water cuz uhm wha happen you-“

He laughed and goes to ruffle your hair, “I drowned in a lake, baby, not a puddle.” He says with a playful tone. You giggle back and snuggle into him as he cradles you just like before. He scrolls through his saved songs before landing on some random nightcore song he has saved, one with heavy beats, guitar riffs and only the loudest of screams. You couldn’t ask for more from your cringe gamer boy caregiver. You both sit there watching the rain eating snacks and listening to music. Rainy days were always your favorite. You remind yourself to fee lucky and thankful to have such a loving caregiver like Ben.

-`♡´-

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A/N: This prompt was requested by @p1nkm1lkslug thank you so much for requesting this it was so fun to think of a unique ending for it and I had so much fun making it! I’m so sorry it took so long but I really hope you love it!! ^^ I also hope it’s relatable to all the other littles out there who struggle with impure regression and go through depressive phases/episodes :”) you aren’t alone and I hope this brought you comfort even for a little bit

Please be careful out there guys and be safe, you are loved and cared for I promise ♡

OH I TOTALLY FORGOT BUT THAT BIT WITH TOBY AND HIS LITTLE?? That’s a little Easter egg for another fic I have coming soon >:3

I’ll see you guys next time!

Love,

Kewpie ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

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-`♡´-

[sanjismywhore]

Alone

Spirit! Carlos Oliveira x Reader

Warnings: angst, sfw, mention of grief, death of a loved one.

(This is based on a Character ai bot by @/somberkitty)

A/N: This might make you cry 🥲

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It's been a year since Carlos tragically died in Raccoon City. The incident left you empty and distraught. You'd miss him much more…if you didn't still see him every day.

You couldn’t ignore his ghostly figure floating behind you as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. His body was so completely translucent that you could see the other side of your room through him. The feeling of his hands was faint, barely there as they gripped your waist. His cold, spectral touch sent a long shiver down your spine.

"Don't look at me like that, babe. Aren't you happy to see me?" He teased, burying his face into the nook of your neck.

You couldn’t muster the strength to smile even if you wanted to. It wasn’t the same. His warmth wasn’t there. “I wish you were here.” You mumbled, still hurting internally from his death.

Carlos laughs in an attempt to lighten your mood, his faint grip loosening on you as he pulls back. “I am here, just under different circumstances. C’mon, don't be so gloomy, you know how I hate seeing you get all mopey." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, but you couldn’t feel anything.

“I wish I could touch you.” You finally looked into his eyes as tears began to well up in your own. Your bottom lip quivered but you held it back with your teeth.

Carlos sighed as he noticed your pained expression, “Me too. You know what? Maybe if you close your eyes real tight and wish for it reeeaaal hard... it’ll work." He grinned.

You didn’t take too kindly to his joking manner, “Don’t joke about this.” you replied firmly

"Ah, don’t be like that, sweet pea. Here I am, being a cheery little ghost and you already hate me?" Carlos retorts with a faux pout, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on the top of your head. Although deep down he understood your pain, feeling guilty for putting you through it.

“You know that’s not true. I love you so much.” You sniffled as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

Carlos’s smile dropped into a sorrowful expression at your words. He pressed his face into your neck, nuzzling you from behind. “I wish I told you that more in life, you know? If I had been more vocal… more affectionate, you wouldn't be feeling so much pain." He murmured, remorsefully.

Tears begin to stream down your face. “I miss you… Every. Single. Day.” Your pained tone emphasized each word.

You tried to hold back your tears as best as you could. His ghostly presence only reminded you of what you could no longer have. It brought you closer to breaking.

"I miss you too, more than you can imagine...” Carlos ushers you to face him, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands. “I feel so shitty for leaving you like this… I hate seeing you mourn. I wish I could just be here, to wipe your tears and hold you close when you cry..."

His thumbs stroked your cheeks. You only barely feel his touch, like a gentle breeze against your skin.

“I don’t know if I can live like this…”You croaked, attempting to lean into his nonexistent touch.

This time, Carlos wraps his arms around you. "Shh, please don't say that. I'm still with you. I'd never leave you all on your own. I want to be by your side, through thick and thin, and make sure you're safe, sound, and happy."

You scoff in frustration at the situation, “But I don’t want this to be my life. Talking to a ghost who I can’t feel or kiss…” You ramble on, sounding more pained than Carlos had initially thought.

He was your drive, your passion, your reason to live. Without that, what is the point of living?

"I know…” He sighed, leaning closer to press his forehead against yours. Carlos closed his eyes as he spoke, “It hurts me so fucking much that you can’t feel me… God, if I could go back and prevent everything, I’d be here.”

His voice was starting to crack with pain, “I’m such an idiot… couldn’t even protect myself..” He mumbled, looking away from you shamefully. It was evident he felt extremely guilty, and shameful that he died.

After an anxious beat of silence, you spoke up again. “Do you think I’ll join you when I die?” I look into his eyes.

Carlos falls silent for a moment, pondering the question. "I hope so. You’ve been through too much in your life… But don't think about that just yet, for now just live your life to its fullest. I will always be right here just in case, like a guardian angel." Carlos gives you a small smile while running his ghostly fingers through your hair.

You stare at him as he smiles back lovingly while stroking your hair. The small action is enough to make your willpower crumble beneath your feet. In an instant, you’re reduced to a sobbing, trembling puddle.

Carlos’s eyes widen once you start crying. His arms hold you close, and his ghostly hands attempt to wipe away your tears with tender caresses.

"No.. no no, please don't cry.” He coos, trying to comfort you.

His plea fell on deaf ears as you continued sobbing, “I-i can’t do it… I can’t do this without you…”

Carlos shushed you gently and attempted to wipe away your tears again, his body beginning to sway from side to side to soothe you.

"Shhh, shh. You don't have to do this without me at all.” He tried to get you to look at him. “Just think of it like this... We’ll just have a bit more distance between us and just can't hug and kiss like we used to. We can live this way, you will be fine I promise." Carlos responds, trying his hardest to be reassuring whilst hiding his misery.

“Carlos. Please be real for a second.” You beg between sobs.

The ghost suddenly stops swaying back and forth, becoming completely still with his arms no longer wrapped around you. Carlos looks back at you, his expression now changed to a more sober look. “This hurts me just as much as it’s hurting you. Trust me, baby.”

Carlos's eyes darken with sadness for a moment, “I try to hide it... put on a positive face and pretend everything is alright, for you. But every night I see you fall asleep with tears in your eyes and cry a little myself, missing the warmth of our bed and your beautiful body lying next to me." He confesses.

“I wish I could bring you back.” You sniffle.

"I wish you could too..." Carlos responds, his face changing to one of melancholy. "Just... promise me one thing." He looks deep into your eyes with adoration.

“Yes?” You reply.

"Keep living your life without me. Don't stop enjoying the little things in life. Like seeing the sunrise, taking a walk in the rain, or getting yourself a nice juicy cheeseburger. Don't let yourself fall into such a deep pit of misery that you're unable to pull yourself back out, promise me that, (Name)." He looks at you with a firm and serious glint in his eyes, hoping you’ll keep that promise.

“It’s so hard…” You pout, glancing away for a moment.

Carlos sighed, "But you can do it, for me. That's all I want. Just for you to enjoy life without me." Carlos offers you a soft smile, his face beginning to flicker as the ghost is consumed by sadness.

You sniffle again, “It’ll be really hard.”

"I know I ask a lot from you, but just try, ok? That's all I ask for. I have faith in you, I believe in you. Please. You are my heart and my life, but I don't want you to let my death take yours too. Live, for me."

You soak in his words, suppressing your doubts and slowly nodding in agreement.

"Thank you..." Carlos exhales with relief. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hits him, a weight settling on his shoulders.

"Hey, is it ok if I rest a little bit? I've spent so much energy talking to you that it's starting to take its toll on me... and I'd rather not disappear right now..." He explains

You blink a couple of times, not understanding what that entails, but you still nod. “Yeah, get some rest.”

Carlos nods in response, his energy beginning to fade. “Ok... I'll be back... just... let me rest for a while..." Carlos slurs, his body beginning to flicker and fade from your view.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow?” You ask.

Carlos nods again, his form almost completely dissipated. "This is my promise... I'll be back. Just need a little time to recover. You'll be fine until then. I'll see you soon alright?"

As the spectral figure of Carlos fades to nothing, you're left standing there by yourself, just listening to the silence around you. As you stare ahead at where Carlos just was you can't help but tear up all over again.

The silence is unbearable in many ways, but the worst of it comes from your inability to hear his voice.

You moved across the room to sit on your bed. Then you laid down. As you lay on your bed, there is nothing to keep you from crying... tears flow down your cheeks and you can feel a void spreading through your heart. All that you have left of your lover is a few photos and your memories, while your life without him seems dark and cold. You miss him, all day and all night. You just want to feel that warmth and love and embrace once more. You want your Carlos back.

[abiiors]

Birthday

Day 4 of (write) anything that you want to! week. I won't give away the main trope of this but the side trope is friends to lovers. Series Masterlist.

Thursday: trope night

‘Happy birthday, darling,’ he smiles sweetly, extends the flowers in his hands. ‘The big 30!’

‘The big 30,’ you echo. 

Behind you, the party is in full swing. It’s just friends and family, really; not a very big group but they chat about and joke around with each other. You stand transfixed at the sight of Matty dressed in a simple black button-down. Remnants of a stubble decorate his face and hints of his tattoo peek through the open collar. His hair is messy, his hair is always messy like he’s been running his hands through them and his eyes shine with joy. 

‘Come in,’ you say, voice hoarse, and step aside. 

He doesn’t need an introduction to the people already gathered there. They all know him, your friend of over a decade. They all say hello, include him in their conversation while you find a vase for the flowers. 

Stepping into your bedroom feels like stepping into another dimension. It’s quiet, still faint notes of a song float in. Every once in a while, raucous laughter echoes around but in this moment it’s just you in your bedroom, sitting on your slightly messy bed, Matty’s flowers on your lap.

Thirty whole years gone, thirty years worth of a life lived…

‘You alright?’ his voice brings you out of your reverie. 

Matty leans against the doorframe, one hand holding a glass of champagne, the other in his pocket. He looks like he belongs; in your bedroom, in your space. In your life. 

‘Just feeling a bit nostalgic is all,’ you smile and pat the space next to you. 

‘Do you remember when we pre-gamed so hard before your birthday party that we ended up passing out in my bedroom?’

He laughs and winces in embarrassment at the memory. ‘God, how old were we? 23?’

‘Babies, really!’ you shake your head. ‘I don’t think I would survive that hangover now.’

He chuckles a bit at that. You are suddenly and intensely aware of how close he sits, how his thigh is pressed up against yours, your bodies leaning into each as if by some invisible gravitational pull. 

Comfortable silence wraps around you like an old, familiar blanket and you let the moment carry you away. He doesn’t stiffen, doesn’t hesitate when he feels you rest your head on his shoulder. He simply tilts his own to rest onto yours. 

‘I thought you wouldn’t make it today,’ you confess softly, ‘what with the tour and all.’

‘And miss your birthday? Not a chance.’ A beat. ‘Besides, I’m here with ulterior motives.’

That gets your attention. 

He shifts around a bit, grabs something from his pocket. His wallet. It takes a second for him to open it and dig around but finally out comes a perfectly preserved square of paper. 

You sit up with a jolt, gasp in shock. He’s loving every bit of disbelief on your face as he hands you the paper. 

‘Shut up, it’s not!’

‘It very much is,’ he counters.

You don’t need to open the paper to know what it says. You already know the words by heart. Still, as if possessed, you unfold it gingerly. 

If I’m still single by the time I’m 30, I will marry you immediately.

Both yours and Matty’s names underneath it, signed in hot pink glitter just to drive home the point. 

‘You didn’t think I forgot about this, did you?’ he teases softly. 

The paper is yellowed, almost as old as your friendship and just as cherished. Each groove, each wrinkle filled with love and memories. 

‘I– you still have this?’ It’s right in front of you, this “contract” that you both signed after you went through a bad breakup at 19. Still, it feels unreal that you’re holding it after all these years. 

‘It comes with me everywhere,’ he states proudly. ‘I almost got it laminated at one point.’

He gives you a moment to examine the relic, to just hold it and let the memories wash over you. Memories of a bedroom not too different from this one. Memories of two 19 year olds sat side-by-side exactly like this. Matty wiping the tears from your cheeks—then full of heartbreak and now full of utter, blissful happiness. 

‘Fucking Trevor,’ you both say simultaneously and then burst into a fit of giggles. 

His eyes shine brightly, his smile brighter still. Outside the song fades out with soft piano notes. 

‘I was going to get you a ring as a birthday gift.’ His tone is joking, light but his eyes hold so much longing. 

‘I would have said yes,’ you whisper back, unsure if you mean it as a joke or not. 

Matty lifts up his hand, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

‘So what is it?’ you clear your throat in hopes that he won’t hear your racing heart, ‘my birthday gift, that is.’

‘This,’ he whispers and presses his lips onto yours. 

[wordsandrobots]

I just wanted to say I have so much respect for the incredible essays and fic you write for IBO, and I’m so grateful you’re in this fandom.

I was wondering, have you talked previously about McGillis’ line of “Is there such thing as true happiness and fake happiness?” especially when considered alongside his line of wanting to make Almiria happy? If not, what do you make of that?

It’s been floating around in my head ever since I watched the show, but I haven’t been able to figure out exactly what to make of it and haven’t had the time to rewatch the show yet.

Thank you! My brain has been set to overdrive on the subject of Iron-Blooded Orphans for more than three years now (please send help) so I'm not sure I could have stopped if I tried.

Anyway. Oh boy. That line. No, I haven't written commentary on it previously, at least not directly. But it underpins literally everything I've done in terms of fanfic spiralling out of McGillis' actions, so I have thought about it quite a lot.

For me -- apart from being the moment Gaelio realises precisely how far he's fucked everything up -- that question is the distillation of McGillis as a character. And as much as he says it about his treatment of Almira, it also serves as an excellent vector for examining McGillis and Gaelio's changing relationship throughout the entire show, specifically with regard to why Gaelio is Always Wrong (TM) about his best-friend-turned-mortal-enemy.

The context here is important, since this final scene is the one point in the entire show where we can uncomplicatedly say McGillis is being completely open. He's lost. He's dying. Everything he hoped to achieve has fallen to pieces. Visually, he's been stripped back to his child self, hair fallen wild and expression dulled. This is McGillis undone. It no longer matters what he does or how he presents, so he's finally able to be honest with Gaelio. All the masks are off.

Gaelio, of course, is in full avenger mode, demanding McGillis stay alive long enough to look directly at the consequences of his actions and face his crimes. And McGillis finally admits that all the jumping up and down and masked-ghost shenanigans was unnecessary: he'd *always* seen Gaelio and always held affection for him. He wasn't some cold traitor, saying all the right things to get close enough to stab everyone in the back. Gaelio and Carta were his friends, and though that was anathema to his desire for power, it wasn't a fraud. He even promised to make Gaelio's sister happy for the sake of their friendship.

The English dub script adds the phrase 'no matter the cost' to the end of this statement and I think that's a very acute sentiment, given McGillis nearly dies sooner due to the wound he suffered stopping Almiria from killing herself. His own actions prove he means what he says: even at the cost of harm to himself, he was determined to honour his word on at least this point.

Predictably, Gaelio responds by reiterating the accusation of McGillis spreading delusions. Any happiness McGillis gave to Almiria could only be fake (due to the scheming, backstabbing, brother-murdering and so on). Which leads McGillis to asking, does it matter?

Are there such things as true and fake happiness?

I mentioned masks. For Gaelio, that's a literal object, a disguise to conceal his survival (from anybody who doesn't have the official height chart to hand, at least), that is literally discarded at this point. But for McGillis, the masks always run deeper. Indeed, if there's one thing we can say about his Montag persona and the attendant jester's visage, it's that it allows him to act more like he really wants to, to the point he starts getting a little giddy.

No, for him, masking is performance. Acting. The construction of a surface persona to meet the demands of the situation he's in. Gaelio draws attention to this when describing how McGillis changed as they grew into teenagers, opting to actively fit in with the social scene around them and only seeming to share his 'true' feelings when the two were alone. As the audience, though, we can trace his chameleonic nature back further. In the montage of McGillis' past, we see him adapting to the various situations he is forced into, first by teaching himself to commit violence to establish dominance, then by cultivating studiousness. It seems unlikely McGillis being chosen as Iznario's heir was disconnected from how hard he worked on building himself up in order to survive. Learning how to navigate social and political environments is a natural progression of these efforts.

That this *is* conscious construction is key. Because McGillis also sets out to transform himself into the ideal Agnika Kaieru represents. Ultimately this culminates in physically altering his body so he can use Gundam Bael, but it's far more than that. He trains himself in the two-sword fighting style Agnika used, long before he's anywhere near achieving his goal. He immerses himself in Gjallarhorn's hierarchy and assists skilled, lower-class officers like Isurugi. He dispenses with his childhood sombreness in favour of an authoritative, rigorous, charismatic professional persona. All of this serves his goal of achieving absolute power, yes. It's also about shaping himself into what he thinks he should be -- the embodiment of the characteristics he attributes to Agnika.

There are a few positive aspects to this. Gaelio, operating on the assumption McGillis is a cynical back-stabber, thinks he goes to Mars to survey the mobile armour situation for personal gain. But in truth McGillis goes to ensure Hashmal doesn't awaken. It's the kind of move someone in Gjallarhorn *should* make, so he does. That he is later inspired to go after the Order of the Seven Stars as Gaelio originally imagined he intended is a reaction to things spiralling out of control and exciting him with the world's most ill-advised historical re-enactment; it's not where he comes into the situation. Likewise, he seems to have been a fairly good inspector, exposing corrupt officers like Coral and later doing due diligence on pulling the Outer Earth Orbit Regulatory Joint Fleet (oh cripes I can write than from memory) into proper fighting shape.

At the same time, it means McGillis is always dishonest with other people. He's always got an angle, is always holding something back, always tries to fit everyone into his plans, somehow. Even when he is truthful (such as saying he's admired Carta for treating him as an equal when they were kids or sharing his faith in Agnika's principles with Almiria), there are other factors to consider. His scheme to gain power inside Gjallarhorn, his need to keep things running smoothly, his obsession with being the individual who can transform the world -- these are in play right up until he is bleeding out on the floor.

It's natural, given this, to ask 'who is the true McGillis?' What really exists underneath the layers of performance? However, I think doing so is to repeat a lot of Gaelio's mistakes because, as we eventually find out, McGillis himself fails to draw a meaningful boundary between 'real' and 'fake'.

He promised Gaelio he'd take care of Almiria while in the act of killing him. It was politically prudent to maintain the engagement and he also considered Gaelio a true friend, so there's good reason to honour the promise. On top of that, Almiria is someone he appears to care greatly for, perhaps out of fellow-feeling since she is as much a pawn in others' games as he once was. Thus, her happiness becomes one of his chief goals. To this end, he accommodates her wishes to be seen as a grown-up lady (as imagined by a nine-year-old) and explains how what he is doing will benefit them both. He goes so far as to stop her from harming herself once his deception is exposed, promising that one day, she will be truly happy despite everything.

And the next time he refers to Almiria in any way -- the last time, prior to his final confrontation with Gaelio -- it is to internally chide her for being so troublesome as to leave him with a wound that negatively affects his battlefield performance. Placed alongside his earlier lines to her and the act of putting his hand in the way of the dagger she aimed at her throat, it's an *incredibly* dismissive reaction. It would be easy to read this as him having only pretended to care about Almiria all along, concealing a real disdain. Except, again -- he put his hand in the way of that dagger, without hesitation.

What's going on here?

Well, McGillis presents in whichever way he needs to in order to navigate his circumstances, saying whatever he thinks is most likely to get the outcome he wants. That's his base state for interacting with the world, as a consequence of growing up the way he did. Seeing no distinction in the veracity of happiness speaks to a very outcome-focused view on human interaction. What difference does it make if a positive reaction is prompted by sincerity or by moulding oneself into a form best suiting the other person? They're still happy. Or giving the appearance of it. That's enough, right?

We eventually see this approach fail with Tekkadan, owing to McGillis' misunderstandings about them. Towards the end of the show, stripped of material superiority, his appeals to their fighting spirit fall flat. He tries to sway them on the level he thinks they operate (pride, desire for power, strength of will) rather than the shared loyalty and familial bonds that actually drive them forward. He simply doesn't realise the things they have pursued were always a means to an end -- each other's safety -- rather than the end itself.

That failure highlights both how important it is to engage with the reality of what you're trying to manipulate (the critical distinction separating him from Rustal) and how genuine McGillis is about his stated goals. He really does want to become the all-powerful leader of Gjallarhorn and believes that will allow him to make the world better. He'd do anything to achieve it. Just like he really means to ensure Almiria's happiness, however much he needs to cover up and present differently -- or even suffer physical harm -- to do so.

That right there is the fundamental problem with how Gaelio sees him throughout Season 2. He doesn't get that McGillis' performances are not strictly falsehoods but tools used to obtain the outcome he's proclaiming to anyone who'll listen. The act may be pieced together from truth or lies or force of strength; what matters is that it *works*.

I spent my essay about Agnika focusing on McGillis' ideology. What the true/false happiness line exemplifies is his methodology or, more strictly, the survival strategy he adapted into a generalised approach. It's the Tekkadan strategy error -- applying the same methods over and over in situations where they are increasingly counter-productive -- writ on a subtler scale. A compulsive need to treat every interpersonal encounter as having a specific outcome, where the actual content, the human connection, and the emotional impact lose any significance beyond 'if X then Y'.

The kicker being that, when McGillis does have to deal with genuine emotions on their own terms, he shoves them as far away from himself as he can. Carta and Gaelio should have been his closest allies and loyalist supporters, not to mention a positive impact on his wellbeing due to, you know, actually caring about him as a person. Instead, he kills/tries to kill them, not just because their deaths serve his ambitions but because they gave him something other than his ambitions -- full stop. Something else. And he couldn't have both.

McGillis could not build himself into the perfect embodiment of individualism while keeping his friends close. He couldn't continue to persist on an outcome-focused approach with unprompted, un-targeted happiness just happening to him. From everything else about his character, I'm not sure he could ever have trusted the feelings Carta and Gaelio induced in him. Far better to construct the happiness he thought he wanted. Far safer. Far more natural, for someone under no illusions about the world's hypocrisies, or what people do in order to survive.

The tragedy is that this is an inescapable problem. McGillis was always going to chose the constructed ideal future over the reality that lay within touching distance. The damage, for that's what this is, was done long before anyone who cared was in a position to intervene. This is somebody who'd execute the people he cares for and who cannot understand his best friend crying over his dying admission of affection, any more than he can grasp why being willing to do anything to ensure a little girl's happiness isn't necessarily laudable. Where would you even begin trying to unpick that?

Which of course is exactly what makes him so effective within this story. There's a paradox at the heart of McGillis, which is part of why I've never tried to write his perspective in my fic, where he manages to be profoundly honest and chronically self-deluding, the signifiers of a manipulative bastard twisted around into . . . I don't really want to call it pathology because I think that undersells the active choice to be who he is. But we see how he got there, the trauma that went into making him, how different aspects of it meshed together, shaping him one after the other. It's not just the homelessness, or the sexual assault, or being trafficked, or being made a pawn in a political game, or fixating on a historical figure. It's all of them put together, and I think it's a fantastic bit of character work.

There simply isn't a solution. Just an inescapable arc towards disaster, and the devastation of a pair of siblings who each loved him more dearly than he could possibly conceptualise.

-----

That's more or less where I land on things, anyway. Hopefully this was mostly coherent, as rambles go? Like with everything to do with McGillis, I can never just pull one thread. The man's a living rats-nest, which I love about him but does make it difficult to be succinct!

Thank you very much for the ask, and for your kind words. I will admit to feeling a degree of 'if there's no active fandom for this show, I'll damn well do it myself' when I started writing the fic and the essays, so it delights me no end to know there are people getting a kick out of them. :)

[withacapitalp]

Tell Him (Nothing) Everything Pt 1

Happy Valentine's @excaliburstark !!!! I was your Valentine so I wrote you a super fun 5+1 fic!! I never expected to do Rockstar Eddie or Modern AU just bc they had never appealed to me before, but then once I started writing this I just couldn't stop! I hope you enjoy it

Read it on ao3

Wayne let Eddie waste away for a record four days, three hours, and fifty two minutes before he finally put his foot down. 

“You need to get outta here,” His uncle said, crossing his arms and standing in front of where Eddie was lying on their lumpy comfy couch. 

Eddie tried to look past him and continue to watch whatever daytime soap opera was on, but Wayne just stepped into his field of vision, continuing to give Eddie the no-nonsense look of total reproach. 

He hated that look. Wayne only ever used it when he was right about something. 

“Kicking me out already?” Eddie said, sitting up and stretching, “I’ve only been here a few days, but if I’m already being a bother, I guess I’ll go crawling back to LA,” 

“You bought the damn house, boy, I’m not kicking you nowhere,” Wayne sighed, completely dodging the silly argument Eddie had tried to tangle them in. 

He sat down next to his nephew and put a big warm hand between Eddie’s shoulder blades, forcing him to be grounded in the moment instead of floating off wherever his mind wanted to go. 

“You can’t sit here all day long. It ain’t healthy,” His uncle whispered, becoming disarmingly gentle in the way only Wayne seemed to be able to accomplish. Eddie felt the open wound in his chest start to bleed again, and he shook Wayne off of him with a harsh tug. 

“Yeah, because I’m so concerned about my health right now,” Eddie snarked, fully intending on disappearing up the stairs and going to lie in his bed instead of on the couch where Wayne could nag him. The exhaustion was pulling on him again, weighing him down like lead. 

Unfortunately for Eddie, Wayne was more agile than he looked, and he got to the stairs before his nephew did. 

“Eddie,” Wayne snapped, cutting himself off with a frustrated sigh, before he could say anything more. He took off his cap and rubbed the top of his head, looking for something to say. 

“At least go take a walk in town or somethin’. You need fresh air and sunlight,” 

It wasn’t what Wayne wanted to say. Eddie knew that they were both fully aware of what Wayne wanted to say, but they were also both aware Eddie wasn’t ready to listen yet. 

“There’s plenty of air in here,” Eddie muttered stubbornly, staring down at the ground between them. He felt like a petulant child and not a twenty seven almost twenty eight year old man, but he didn’t want to budge. The idea of being out in the world made him feel sick to his stomach. Eddie didn’t want to be recognized, didn’t want people to come up to him and ask for autographs, or photos, or-

or ask him to talk about her.  

“This is Hawkins, Indiana, Eds. The only people who would recognize you are currently in school. No one here over the age of eighteen would listen to anythin’ like your music,” Wayne said, somehow already guessing where Eddie’s mind had gone, “‘Sides wasn’t the whole point of you comin’ home to be in a place where you could walk around without bein’ afraid of people seein’ you? What’s the point of bein’ here if you do nothin’ but stay home and mope?”

It wasn’t moping. Moping was what happened when you got dumped, or a pet ran away. Eddie had moped when Corroded Coffin’s second album flopped, and after he got laryngitis and had to miss Gareth’s big 25th birthday blowout bash. 

This wasn’t moping. Eddie was…was…

“I’m just tired, Wayne, that’s all,” Eddie said softly, the lie barely audible, even to himself. 

“We both this ain’t tired, Eddie,” Wayne said, gently but firmly calling his nephew on his bullshit, “You don’t handle grief well. And you never have, but-”

No. No. 

“I’m not talking about this,” Eddie interrupted, looking up with slightly deranged eyes, desperation making his voice rough, “I’m not. You promised we wouldn’t have to talk about Chri-”

Eddie cut himself off with a strangled gasp, hating the way just the first syllable of her name made tears start to prick in his eyes. 

“About it,” Eddie amended, his voice completely flat, “You promised we wouldn’t have to talk.”

Wayne studied him without pity. Empathy, sure, there was floods of it, because Wayne had lost her too, but no pity.

That was the real reason Eddie had come back home, fleeing Los Angeles in the middle of the night with barely a half scribbled note of explanation to the rest of the band, and instructions not to follow him despite all of them knowing where Eddie was going. 

Wayne was the only person in his world who wouldn’t pity him right now. 

Eddie could barely stand pity on his best day. It had always gotten under his skin, but right now it was making him go feral. He could only stand so many of Jeff’s sad little glances, and Archie’s quiet attempts to get him to open up. Even Gareth was too much right now. All of them were suffocating him. It was already hard enough to breathe as it was. 

But at this moment, Wayne’s empathy wasn’t much better. It felt like the entire room was slowly being drained of air. 

“Well. Two options,” Wane finally said, putting his cap back on and fixing Eddie with a determined grimace, “You can go out for at least forty five minutes- get some air, take a drive, maybe even come home with some lunch. Or we can sit here and have a nice long talk about our emotions. Your choice.” 

That wasn’t a choice. There wasn’t any choice in that at all. Both Eddie and Wayne knew that, but they also both knew that Wayne would follow through on that threat. He had done it before, and he would do it again, if necessary. He would do just about anything if it meant helping Eddie, even when Eddie didn’t want help. 

“You’re the worst,” Eddie groaned, stomping over to the front door and grabbing his sneakers. Wayne watched with smug satisfaction as Eddie laced up his shoes and grabbed his phone, tucking it into his back pocket before coming over and wrapping his uncle in a fiercely tight hug. 

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled into Wayne’s shoulder. He couldn't leave without saying what Wayne meant to him. Not anymore. Not after what had happened. 

“I love you too, Eds,” Wayne replied, letting his nephew hang onto him for as long as he needed. 

“Forty five minutes at least,” Wayne reminded him as they parted, standing in the doorway and watching as Eddie began trekking down the sidewalk towards the middle of town. 

It barely took ten minutes to get to the town square, and soon enough Eddie was sloping down a fairly busy sidewalk, getting side eyes and judgemental looks from housewives who couldn’t help staring. 

Good to know that some things would always stay the same. 

Eddie had only lived in Hawkins for five years, from the ages of eight to thirteen, along with sporadic visits from time to time since then, but it felt like nothing had changed. 

And maybe it hadn’t, not really. Hawkins was a timestamp town, the kind of place that looked the same no matter what decade it was. One of the deep tracks on Corroded Coffin’s first album had been about Hawkins. 

Well, not exactly, seeing as his bandmates weren’t from Hawkins, but they all grew up in small towns, so they were all able to come up with a pretty banging condemnation track together. 

Crawling out of the place that tried to take my soul, my heart, my mind. 

Creating a cookie cutter version which took the deal the Devil signed. 

Eddie never gave Hawkins the satisfaction of making him one of their sons. When people asked, he said he was from Indianapolis, which was half true. That was a better backstory anyway- a hardscrabble kid from the bad side of the tracks that had collected a bunch of his friends, a couple of second hand instruments, and a dream to change the world. 

No, Eddie wasn’t a fan of Hawkins. 

But oh, Chrissy had loved it here. 

The only reason Eddie had ever come back had been her. If he had it his way, Wayne would just come visit him whenever he wanted. Eddie could afford the plane tickets. But Chrissy saw some magic in the cul-de-sacs, the long winding corn rows, the people who would clutch their pearls whenever they saw the two of them walking down the street. 

Eddie had never understood it. 

And now he never would.  

There it was. The feeling of a phantom limb. Was it possible to have that if you still had all four? It was a sensation he would never be able to explain, a physical sense of loss that ran through his veins like poison. Eddie’s hand was empty, when it should be clutched onto someone else’s. There should be a sweet little light by his side, skipping along the sidewalk and teasing Eddie for being way too scary looking to survive in Hawkins. 

Eddie’s other half was missing, and he didn’t know how to begin making the world make sense again. 

He was so focused on that feeling that he didn’t see the glass door in front of him until it was way too late. Eddie crashed right into it, face fully smashing against the glass, collapsing on the ground with a loud curse and a stinging pain in his wrist from landing on it wrong. 

See. This is what happened when Eddie tried to go outside. He should’ve just stayed home and put his fingers in his ears, singing nonsense until his uncle gave up on trying to make him acknowledge his emotions. 

Instead here he was lying on the ground in the middle of Hawkins fucking Indiana at what had to be ultimate rock bottom. 

“Oh my gosh!” A deep voice from above him said, a tanned hand invading his vision, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, taking the offered hand and letting himself get pulled up, “I’m o-”

Oh. My. God.  

Eddie lived in the pretty people capital of the country. Not only was he the lead singer of a world renowned band who was an out and proud bisexual, he was known to be somewhat of a slut. Suffice to say Eddie had both gorgeous women and gorgeous men throwing themselves at him almost constantly. 

There was no short supply of people who wanted a night with The Eddie Munson. 

But none of them held a candle to the man in front of him who was still holding onto his hand. 

“Oh, that looks like it hurts,” Small Town Adonis fretted, finally letting go only to lean in close and take Eddie’s chin in his hand. Eddie stiffened as his head was turned from side to side, giving the other man a better view of whatever bruise was starting to bloom on his jaw. It was a perfectly convenient excuse to oogle, so Eddie did. 

The stranger was a couple inches shorter than Eddie, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. He had broad shoulders and a strong square jaw that was probably deliciously sensitive. His hazel eyes were hidden behind thin wire frame glasses that only added to his charm, and his hair was to die for. Eddie usually prided himself on being the person with the best hair in the room, but this guy might have him beat. 

And, he was wearing a lemon sweater and a bright blue apron that had cat paws printed all over it. 

That shouldn’t have worked for Eddie. 

It was so working for him. 

“No worries,” Eddie said breathlessly, his heart still racing as he let the stranger move his face around as he pleased. All of his exhaustion had vanished at the speed of light, replaced by a warm feeling in his chest and a blush that was beginning to grow on his cheeks. 

“I don’t think anything is broken, thank god,” The man said, relieved. He stepped back and readjusted the sign that had been holding open the door to his shop, “Here, come inside and I’ll get you an ice pack. Maybe a lemon bar on the house? If you like lemons?” 

He seemed pretty nervous, and Eddie internally rolled his eyes, some of his attraction fading. Of course the guy was going over the top. He was probably worried that his little podunk shop was about to go under, all because a rockstar happened to crash into his open front door. 

“You don’t need to do all that. I’m not gonna like sue you or anything,” Eddie said, letting the tiny fluttering crush that had begun to bloom wilt once more. Once again he wasn’t real, just something to be gawked at. 

But the stranger wasn’t gawking. He was almost glaring. 

“Well, I would hope you weren’t thinking about suing me seeing as you walked into my door,” The man said, his voice dripping with derision. He even had his hands on his goddamn hips like some PTA mom. 

Wayne telling Eddie that no one in town would recognize him was one thing, but actually seeing that people wouldn’t know him simply by sight was another thing entirely. 

Since Corroded Coffin went viral in 2012, launching into stardom at the speed of light, Eddie had been forced to live with the fact that everyone knew he was. That was the tradeoff. You get everything you ever wanted, become a rockstar like every kid dreams of being, and the world gets to own you. At seventeen he had naively signed off on that, and now at twenty seven there was no way to go back and throttle that kid into actually thinking about the consequences. 

But the man in front of him had literally no clue who he was. 

It was strange. It was bizarre. It was like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.  

It was… enthralling.  

“You really don’t recognize me?” Eddie pressed, needing to be sure. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had pretended they didn’t know who he was. Lots of people wanted to get close to him for one reason or another. Eddie had to practice constant vigilance, or risk having everything he worked for blown apart. 

“Should I?” Apron Man asked, looking concerned. He raised a brow and looked around the fairly empty street, as if trying to parse out exactly why Eddie would be someone he should know. 

Wonderful. The beautiful man was in fact a rare angel that knew nothing about Eddie, and Eddie was now officially the weirdo who had not only smacked his face into the door, but also maybe threatened to sue and demanded that a total stranger recognize him. Just perfect.

“No um we’ve never- I’m-” Eddie cut off his fumbling with a groan, pulling his long curls in front of his face and wishing he could disappear off the face of the earth, “Sorry I must sound like a lunatic,”

“Or someone with a concussion. Trust me I’ve had plenty of them,” The man said with a kind smile. He put one foot in the doorway of his store and waved his hand behind him, “Come on in! I’ll check you out, and we can see about that lemon bar,” 

Eddie silently followed the man like a lost puppy, marveling at the inside of the store. It was a cafe, the walls painted a soft creamy yellow and decorated with hand drawn paintings of cats in various positions. There were tiny round tables with squashy arm chairs, and a high bar by the counter with comfy looking stools. 

The smell of cinnamon hung in the air, and Eddie’s entire body instantly relaxed. It was like sinking into a warm bath, everything in the room designed to put a person completely at ease. 

Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. 

“Here. Welcome to Claudia’s,” The stranger said kindly, handing Eddie a blue freezer pack and gently pushing him towards one of the arm chairs. . 

“Thanks. I’m Eddie…” 

He trailed off, considering his next words. Eddie Munson. Even if the man didn’t know his face, he would probably know his name. Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin. Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll wrapped up into one real life person. He could be honest right now, tell this stranger the truth, and see how he changed once he knew. 

Or he could play a little game, get a little distance from the person he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anymore. 

“I’m Eddie.” He repeated, more firmly and more sure of his decision. 

“Well, Eddie, Eddie,” Apron Man teased, making Eddie’s cheeks heat up in a furious blush, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve Harrington.” 

[crimsonspectre]

Ginger and honey

Summary: Max's catching up with his best friend

MF X fem!OC

You can find this on AO3 too.

“I don’t understand why you have to freeze to death,” I said, looking at her rather revealing outfit in the cold Austrian weather. 

“Said the guy driving a coffin on wheels at 300 km/H every weekend.”

I chuckle, she’d always been insufferable. 

“You know what? I’ll keep my advice to myself next time,” I answered theatrically. 

“Aw, Maxie,” she pouted “If I needed advice on styling, I’d ask anyone but you.”

I looked at her, trying to maintain the bothered facade. 

“Cut it with the ‘Maxie’ thing, I’m not five years old.”

“Sorry, though you were the pet-name lover kinda guy.” 

I rolled my eyes, laughing, “Let’s just walk in silence, okay?” 

She answered by holding my arm with her left hand in silence. A couple of minutes later, we were standing at my front door. 

“Make yourself at home.”

She’d been home to me for years, so it only made sense. I traced her movements while she took her high heels off and sat on the couch, folding her legs closer to her body. 

“I’ll bring you some tea, Ms. ‘My outfit’s too nice to ruin with a coat’” 

She flashed a smile, the first honest one today. Hopefully not the only one. 

“I’d be waiting, Mr. ‘Don’t call me Maxie’” 

I couldn’t help but look at her while waiting for the kettle to boil. She was far away, her gaze trying to open a hole in the living room floor. She was not the one I knew, the cheerful friend of my childhood, the supportive system, the love of my life. Not that she knew that last part, a burden I’ve endured alone for years. 

When I left the cup in front of her, making a little extra purposeful noise, she turned to look at me. 

“Oh, thanks, Max. Sorry, I was spacing off.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Are you okay?” I asked, sitting next to her. Even if my body asked me to come closer, to obey the magnetic force that commanded me to her, I managed to take some distance. 

She sighed, looking at me in the eye. 

“Chase and I split up,” she whispered. 

“You… what?” I couldn’t hold my surprise. They spent years together, looking happy. But I guess she’s been hiding things from me. 

Her eyes finally met mine, something there twitching for coming out  “Let’s say we failed to understand each other lately.”

I scanned her face for something, but all I saw was avoidance. 

“Why are you talking to me like I’m a judge on the Supreme Court? I’m your best friend.”

Her eyes seemed to melt for a second, and she pouted a specific way she does when trying not to cry. Seen it a thousand times. 

“Sorry, I’m just… The reason makes me embarrassed.”

I felt like I was floating in the sea, miles away from her, the waves keeping me at a safe distance. Suddenly, the beating of her aching heart made them change direction, pushing me closer so smoothly I almost didn’t notice. And equally unnoticed, I was putting my arm around her, inviting her head to rest on my shoulder, and she accepted. 

“I’m not gonna force it out of you,” I said softly. “But you can trust me.”

“I know I can trust you, Max. You’re the person I trust the most.”

I caressed her shoulder, the night silence only interrupted by the soft whimpers of her crying. I knew better than to point out the obvious. 

After a couple of minutes, she whispered, “I love you.”

I heard her, even if my mind filled with white noise immediately after. I needed to see my doctor for an audiometry, maybe the years in the paddock were finally catching up on me. 

“Max…”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I looked at her, confused. 

Her face was red, part embarrassment, part crying. She pouted before speaking again, “I said I love you. That’s why Chase broke up with me. Cause I’m in love with you.”

I felt the heat on my face growing from my stomach, scorching my heart. The only thing that forced my mouth was the uncertainty growing in her expression. And heaven knows my mouth didn’t have time to lose on words, not when I've dreamed of what kissing her would be like for... too many years now. So I did. Just a small one, to test if her heart waves will choose to push me away or pull me over. And she pulled me over for another kiss. A deep one, rooted in something feral hidden behind restless nights and nostalgic days. 

Without warning, she was sitting on top of me, our hands all over each other, and thank god she chose the freezing-to-death outfit, allowing me to touch the skin I’ve longed for forever. 

After some time, I pulled apart trying to catch my breath, and I held her face in my hands. It was the most beautiful sight. Flushed, aroused, almost begging. 

I brushed my lips against hers, holding her in place, denying her the chance to kiss me back.

She pouted, “You’re mean, Maxie.” 

“You've got no idea how mean I can be,” I whispered, my voice raspier, making her body tremble. I let her face go, but she didn’t move an inch. I traced her jawline, then her neck, and reached for her necklace, a gift I made her years ago - a golden ‘M’ for her initial - pulling the chain slightly.

“Now it stands for Max.” 

- - - - - - 

The next morning was particularly cold, and she was snuggling against me. I caressed her hair. 

“Even more naked than last night! I see you insist on freezing to death.”

She laughed, and kissed my neck before answering, “I’ll have you as my heater now.”

“I’ll make you ginger and honey tea every day. It’s like you, spicy, sweet. Sometimes hard to swallow.” 

She poked my ribs laughing, and I laughed too. 

I turned to take a good look at her, “I love you too. I didn’t say it last night.”

“I know, Maxie.”

[snelbz]

Better or Worse {18}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the late post! I had it queued for pm instead of am and just noticed. We’re almost to the end of Nesta and Cassian’s journey of growth, but we hope you’ve enjoyed reading this one as much as we’ve enjoyed writing it!

Almost every counseling appointment we’ve gone to, Nesta has been right there by my side. But Gwyn asked us to meet separately this week and that shouldn’t make me as nervous as it does. I know it’s common for therapists to want to talk to each person on their own, but even at the beginning, even when we weren’t speaking, having Nesta there was a balm to me. I was able to open up and talk about my thoughts, my feelings even if I wasn’t sure how I felt about them.

Now, sitting across from Gwyn, I feel like I’m back at square one. Rather than the usual couch, I’m sitting in an armchair identical to the one she’s in.

Her notepad is resting in her lap, but she doesn’t look down at it. She doesn’t even have a pen. “How are you doing this afternoon, Cass?”

“Good,” I say, but nothing more which makes her smile.

“Nervous?” She asks, not unkindly.

I sigh. “Yeah? Which is weird, right? Because we know each other fairly well by now.”

“True, but it’s not weird, it’s actually common,” she assures me. “You’re not used to doing this alone. It’s a big step.”

There was a time when her tone would piss me off, would make me feel like she thinks she’s talking to a child, but not anymore. I know she’s genuine in everything she says. 

“I guess so,” I agree, and answer her question honestly. “I am good, though. Yes, nervous, but everything has been going really, really good. Great. Nesta and I are, uh, renewing our vows.”

“Oh?” Gwyn asks and she sounds happy about it, which is a good sign. “When?”

“A month. I actually asked her when we got back from our little vacation, after we left here.” I shrug. Since we’ve been doing so well in our marriage, we haven’t been coming to see Gwyn as much. ��It felt like the right thing to do. I asked; she said yes.”

“I’m happy for you,” she says, and I know she means it. 

My appointment goes on like that and after a few more minutes I actually start to fully relax. I told her everything, probably oversharing at some points but I can’t help it. I feel like I just fell in love again for the very first time, although this time feels much stronger than that. Nesta and I have a bond that can’t be broken, that can never be shaken again. 

After telling Gwyn goodbye, I head to Nyx’s preschool to pick him up. He’s waiting for me with his backpack on and his lunchbox in hand, and the second I pull up to the curb, he’s jumping up and down. 

“Hey buddy.” I hop out of the truck and give my nephew a hug while ignoring the wandering eyes of his teacher, as usual. She’s at least seventy, I swear, and I have no clue how she hasn’t retired yet.

“Uncle Cass, we learned about bugs today!”

So begins my rundown of his day, right down to his snacks and the lunch Feyre packed for him that morning.

My phone rings as I’m putting my car in park in the garage. When I see it’s Elain, my brows pull together. I love my sister-in-law, and would do anything for her at any time. But she doesn't usually call me. I answer as I round the truck to get Nyx out of his carseat.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cass.”

“Is everything okay?”

Her cheery laughter floats through the phone. “Everything is fine. I was seeing if Nesta was with you. I tried her cell but she didn’t answer and I wanted to get a final decision on the flowers for the ceremony.”

I’m a man of many talents. I pride myself on being knowledgeable about many things. Flowers sure as shit isn’t one of them.

Scratching at my beard, I head into the house, Nyx on my heels. “She had a meeting with Eris and the publishers this afternoon, but should be home around five if you can wait that long.”

I hear the telltale sounds of Nyx dropping his backpack. “Hi, Greg!”

“Alright, I’ll try her then. Thanks!”

We say our goodbyes and I toss my phone on the kitchen counter only to realize the kitchen has become far too quiet. When I turn around, Nyx is nowhere to be found.

Just before I can completely panic, Nyx comes back through the door, crying.

I frown. “What happened, buddy?”

“Greg,” he says, a sobbing mess. “Door…open…Greg.”

He can barely get the words out but I get the gist. With a sigh, I pick Nyx up and pat his back. “It’s okay. Greg gets out sometimes, I’ll find him.”

I set Nyx up on the couch with a juice box and a bowl of popcorn while he watches Bluey before finding myself going around the outside of the house, looking in all the bushes. 

No Greg.

I call his name and all of my neighbors that don’t know me are probably wondering why I’m going around my house, yelling for a Greg, but I ignore any potential neighbor’s judgment. Every minute that passes that I can’t find him, I get worried. Nesta loves this cat like a child. 

And I can’t find him. 

When I finally head back inside, Nyx’s head pokes over the top of the couch. He’s still sniffling as he asks, “Did you find him?”

I hesitate for a second because I don’t want him to worry, I don’t want him to start crying again, and I definitely don’t want him telling Nesta about this. So I decide to go with a little white lie. “I did. He was having fun running around and asked to stay outside a little longer. I told him he could play outside until it gets dark.”

Thankfully, that perks him up and blessedly derails his toddler attention span. “Did you know that lightning bugs come out when it’s dark? And then their butts light up?”

For the rest of the afternoon, I’ve got one eye on Nyx and one on the window at the back deck. On multiple occasions, I run outside with the bag of treats and shake it as obnoxiously as I can.

The damn cat never comes back.

As the clock ticks closer and closer to five, I start to panic. How am I going to tell Nesta I let Greg get out? Better yet, how am I going to keep Nyx from saying something?

Before I can come up with a foolproof plan, the garage door opens and my beautiful wife comes strolling in. She gives me a smile and a kiss on the cheek before asking, “How was your appointment with Gwyn?”

“Fine,” I answer, and as soon as it’s out of my mouth I know that I’ve answered way too quickly. Her joyful demeanor falters and I hesitate, which makes her frown. 

“What?” she asks, and there’s a bite to her voice which I know means I should tread carefully if I want to try and keep the peace. 

“Look,” I say, and take a deep breath. I watch her eyes as they go from angry to concerned to confused. “I…there was...Nyx accidentally…Gre—”

Just as I’m about to say his name, the furry little bastard charges into the room and jumps up on the kitchen island to greet Nesta. My wife momentarily forgets about me and scratches the cat under his chin.

I stare, dumbfounded. “I…what the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Nesta asks, remembering I exist and crossing her arms. “Okay, what did you do?” “Nothing,” I say, and grab her face, bringing her mouth abruptly to mine. She’s surprised for a second, but melts into me as my lips keep moving. 

“Ew!”

We pull apart to look at Nyx, who is standing in the doorway and covering his eyes. When he peeks through his fingers, he gasps. “GREG! I thought we lost you forever! I was soooooooooo scared! Uncle Cass, wasn’t I scared?”

I purse my lips and slowly bring my gaze back to Nesta’s. She’s watching me with narrowed eyes full of hellfire. 

“So, we lost Greg,” I confess, quietly. Nyx doesn’t seem to notice the tension as he grabs the cat off the island and carries him into the living room. I open my mouth to give a long, pathetic story about what happened, but Nesta shakes her head and puts her fingers over my mouth.

“I don’t wanna know,” she says, and her eyes soften. “He’s here, he’s safe, do better next time.” 

I blink, thinking it’s a trap and not wanting to curse it. “Yeah, okay.” Now I’m suspicious. “You’re taking this too well, it’s scaring me.”

She snorts and runs her hands down my chest and bundles my t-shirt in her hands. “I want tonight to be a good night. We’ve been a little stressed lately, planning this wedding so quickly…” She shrugs. “No more stress.”

I feel like there’s something she’s not telling me. Maybe it’s the fact that we’ve been married for a decade, but I feel like something’s off. “Nesta—”

She looks over my shoulder, into the living room at Nyx and Greg snuggling on the couch, then back to me. 

“What?” I ask, and try not to let my worry creep in too far. “What happened? Are you okay? Did Eris piss you off? The fuck did that prick do now—”

“Eris didn’t do anything, for once,” she says, laughing quietly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just…been thinking about something, but I thought we could wait until we’re alone tonight to talk about it.”

I hate that.

I hate when someone says we need to talk, especially my wife, then doesn’t tell me what it is we need to talk about. 

“Now I’m going to spend the entire afternoon worrying about whatever it is you have to say,” I say, keeping my voice low. 

“It’s nothing bad,” she whispers, and leans up on her toes to kiss me. I grab her ass and squeeze for comfort. “Just something I’ve been thinking about. A lot. Come on, let’s make dinner before Feyre gets here to pick him up.” 

And that’s that. I throw together a quick meal of blackened chicken, green beans, and red potatoes, which Nyx devours as if he hasn’t eaten in weeks. More than once, Nesta has to remind him to take smaller bites, but he manages to clean his plate without choking. Nyx regales Nesta with his school day, as well, telling her all about his studies but conveniently forgetting the story he told me about the little girl on the playground who held his hand.

Nesta is in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner, while Nyx and I are on the couch watching Bluey when I hear the door from the garage open. Nyx, engrossed in whatever shenanigans Bluey and Bingo have gotten into, doesn’t notice the quiet greetings or the hushed whispers and murmuring.

But I do.

It sets me on edge, immediately thinking of whatever Nesta wants to talk about when we’re alone. It sends my brain straight into “overthink” mode and I don’t notice that Nyx has said something until he calls my name a second time.

“What was that, bud?”

“I said that daddy said I could get a puppy just like Bluey.”

“Did he now?” Feyre asks, breezing in from the kitchen.

“Mama!” Nyx is off the couch in a flash and crashing into her legs.

His backpack is already slung over her elbow and she lifts Nyx into her arms, hugging his close. “Hi, bub. Ready to go home?”

“Yes! Me and Uncle Cass lost Greg.” Feyre’s smile falters but Nyx charges on. “Don’t worry, mama, we found him.”

We say our goodbyes and promise to see them soon, and when it’s just me and Nesta alone, I can’t control myself any longer.

“So.”

She chuckles as she sits next to me on the couch and turns off Bluey. “So.”

I wait for her to say something but when she doesn’t go on, I throw my hands in the air. “Damn it, Nesta, please just—”

“I think we should look into adoption.” The words rush out of her, quietly. “I think we should adopt.”

Out of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t it. I’m at a loss for words.

It’s not until I notice her eyes start to line with tears that I come back, my mind catching up with me.

“You don’t want—”

“I’m just surprised,” I say, before she can worry. “I mean, adoption is…that’s a lot. That’s big.”

“I’m ready to be a mom, babe,” she says, and a tear falls as her voice breaks. “We’ve been ready for a family for so long and I’m accepting that I’m not ever going to have a baby.” I want to protest, but I can’t. “So I thought we could have a baby, or a child, through adoption.”

I’m quiet for a moment, but Nesta doesn’t push me.

Adoption had never even crossed my mind and I’m a little ashamed of myself for not considering it. Growing up in the foster system, how many years did I dream of someone finally deciding I was worth the trouble, of a family adopting me and giving me the happy home I’d always dreamed of. But Nesta wanted to be a mother and I never thought farther than giving her that dream myself, of our child growing inside of her.

Who’s to say the child we’ve been dreaming of isn’t already out there?

“Do you want to quit trying?” I ask, carefully. “To have our own?”

“Absolutely not,” she scoffs, and I can tell she’s trying not to be emotional. She knows my past more intimately than anyone else on the planet. “You think after finally having sex after months of celibacy, I’ll be able to go back?”

I swallow and huff a laugh but stay quiet for a minute, allowing my thoughts to catch up with me. My thoughts that are all over the place. 

“Okay,” I say, quietly, and her tears spill over. I wipe them away, carefully. “After the wedding…we can start the process, if it’s what you truly want.”

“It is,” she says, and there is no doubt. “But is it what you want?”

“A family with you is all I have ever wanted,” I say, and it is wholly the truth. 

I can’t help my own consuming emotion as she kisses me. Every day I don’t know how my marriage can get better, how I can love this woman more, but then I do. I didn’t know this love, this excitement for the future could still be so strong, so evident after ten years.

I’m so ridiculously in love with this woman that I can’t believe it. I show her as much as I lay her down on the couch and take my sweet time with every beautiful, magnificent inch of her body.

We will have our family soon enough, one way or another, and I can’t wait.

[courtingchaos]

Wooo I’m feeling some kind of way recently. Stress will do that to you.

A/N: this is fluff but seriously, no minors. I mean it.

But like, paint this picture with me.

Older Eddie (Professor Munson in my imaging), remembering all the things that make you happy. He notices you’re upset because job stuff and you’re having a hard time being in your 30’s and he gets it. It wasn’t that long ago he was there and he’s been watching you ghost around the townhouse for a week. Hair clipped up and the same pajamas you’ve had on for at least three days. He still trips over himself to see you though, even unwashed and snapping and sad. Every day he comes home and searches for you, and every day this week he’s found you in the spare room you’ve slowly turned into your space.

He’s told you he’ll clear it out and get you real office furniture but that makes you sink deeper into your depression. You talk about not being able to pay him back and he’s never once expected that.

You don’t have to. He doesn’t want you to. Let him do something for you. He just wants you to feel better.

And maybe that starts a fight because he’s already got his career and his friends and his money and his home. You’re floating in a job you hate and looking for another one to bide your time in because you actually hate the degree you spent 7 years getting. You only did it to prove to everyone else you could and now?

Now you live off of your boyfriend in his big, expensive brownstone. He’s 12 years into his field and settled and also 25 years older than you.

So what is it? You only like charity cases or something? Gotta rescue the idiot?

He knows you’re mad. He knows you lash out like this. He knows you’ll push so that everyone else leaves and you can feel like you got left instead. So maybe he snaps back at you for a second. Reminds you if he didn’t want you living with him and dating him he could find someone more age appropriate (he says with an eye roll). When you stomp up the stairs to your room he yells up to you that if he didn’t love you and was 20 years younger he’d be throwing your shit out onto the pavement outside, damn the old money next door.

Maybe you avoid him till the weekend when he’s home the whole time. You haven’t slept in the same bed and you haven’t answered a single knock or text or FaceTime. He sends you little flower emojis and a string of stars. He finds a tiktok about the Mars rover that he knows you’ll want to see and sends you some screen shots of the new menu for the whiskey bar you two like to go to. While you were sleeping he slid into your room and left your Sunday morning fancy coffee on the nightstand and when you finally wake up and notice it, you can hear him moving around in the kitchen.

You still feel like shit but at least you know he isn’t kicking you out. You know he wouldn’t, not over a stupid fight like that but still. It’s when you’re wrapped up in your robe and heading down stairs to finally speak to him you notice the bedroom door open. The bedroom you normally sleep in, with a sticky note on it. An arrow pointing in with a smiley face and crudely drawn horns. On the bed there’s a little paper bag from the expensive soap place you rarely buy from and it seems Eddie has outdone himself again. The rose shower melts and the lemon soap and that stupid body pouf you like so much that smells like candy. If you cry about it in the shower you don’t tell him and he doesn’t bring up your puffy face when you finally pad into the kitchen.

He’s baking something, it smells sweet and you spot the split packaging of the orange cinnamon pillsbury rolls in the trash and you have to swallow the lump in your throat. He hates those so you know he ran these errands yesterday when he left for those few hours. Probably ran by the grocery store first and then into that boutique that he always complains smells too much. He pauses when he see you staring into the trash can, silent and still. Doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head to try and catch your eye.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what to do about anything and I’m panicking.

He just shrugs and smiles. He gets it. He always gets it. There’s something in him that always gets your mood swings and that deep seated anger. He’s never asked you to try and snuff that flame out, just helps you tend it.

It’s a controlled burn. You gotta let it get all the kindling out so new shit can grow.

Eddie pulls you into a hug and you lean into him. Breathe him in slow to try and get that lump to go away. You thank him for your shower and then gesture sadly behind you at the oven and thank him for the cinnamon rolls you know he hates. He laughs and it rumbles against you. He hums along to the music and you tuck your head into his neck and realize he’s got Neil Young on. There’s an old man joke on the tip of your tongue but then he starts singing along to Harvest Moon and you shut up. The tears you’ve been holding in since getting out of the shower push up and over and stain your cheeks and wet his old tshirt and he just shushes you. Sways you against him until the timer goes off and he sways you over to the stove and manages to get the round pan out without burning either of you.

Maybe it’s a rainy day and the drops patter against the windows. Eddie knows you like the rain and he dances you across the living room so he can crack the window so you can hear it coming down.

Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again…

Sings quietly into your hair and tucks you up close and let’s you cry on his shoulder and when he feels you slowing down, taking those deep breaths to steady yourself, he pulls his phone out and replays the song so he can properly dance with you. He wants you to laugh so he holds your fingertip and first knuckle, acts like he’s playing a tiny harmonica. You giggle and he feels better, lighter. There’s color in your cheeks again and you’re looking him in the eye before you give him a kiss and drape back over him.

It’s cozy and it smells like cinnamon rolls and you’re swaying with him and you both are happy.