#You can’t FIX everyone’s problems and issues but you can try helping

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AHHHHH HI FINNIE FIN 🥹🫶🏾💝💗💝💘💕💖‼️‼️‼️

Thank you so much for this ask…I actually REALLY needed a hug rn…this week has been stressful 😬…

Again, really appreciate it. I promise to DM you when life isn’t so…hectic ☺️🩷!!! I kinda just need to figure myself out rn

💖🙌🏾‼️

[girlgenius1111]

by your side

part 2 to responsibility how do you fix something when you don't have all the pieces? how do you heal when you aren't sure you deserve to? basically, r tries to work through the actions of her father, and the grief she feels for her mother. heavy angst but obviously still fluff. also hi thank you @wileys-russo your lil ideas saved this fic

-------

The early hours of the morning had been kind of a blur; one minute, you were cradled in Alexia’s arms in your house. The next minute, or so it felt like, you were being gently laid on the bed in the guest bedroom back at Alexia’s. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or perhaps it was the intense stress of the previous day, but almost as soon as you curled up under the covers on the guest bed, you were out cold. You didn’t remember leaving your house, or getting to Alexia’s. The state you were in worried your captain deeply, and she found herself hesitating in your doorway, terrified to leave you alone again. 

Worry was plaguing her, taking over every molecule in her body. This wasn’t a problem Ale could fix, and she hated not being able to solve things. Especially when the issue was hurting someone she cared about. It was only when she felt a gentle hand grab hers that she was brought out of her spiral. 

“Come to bed, Ale.” Olga whispered, softly tugging her girlfriend down the hall towards their room. Alexia didn’t resist very much, the allure of falling limp into her girlfriend’s arms in her bed too strong. 

“I don’t want to leave her,” she argued weakly, glancing back down the hall towards where you lay peacefully sleeping. Well, sleeping at least. 

“She’s asleep, and you need to be too. It’s been a long night for you, Ale, you have to let yourself rest.” 

“But-”

“No buts.” Olga interrupted, all but pushing her girlfriend to sit on the edge of the bed before she got a new pair of pajamas out for the blonde. Alexia was very strict about inside clothes and outside clothes, and Olga knew better than to try to get her girlfriend to sleep under the covers in clothes that had left the house. “You can’t help her if you’re exhausted.” 

Begrudgingly, Alexia nodded, taking the clothes from Olga and changing quickly. 

It was only once they were both back in bed, the lights flicked off and Alexia uncharacteristically curled up with her head on Olga’s chest, that the blonde spoke again. “I can’t fix this, Olga. I don’t know how to help her.” 

Olga hummed, dragging her nails slowly up and down her girlfriend’s back. “You don’t need to do it all by yourself. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to a few of your teammates. Ingrid and Mapi can come over and spend time with her, and you’ll bring Irene to go meet with her lawyer and her case worker. The less stress on chiquita, the better. You can tell the club what’s going on. Everyone will come up with a plan, and once there is a plan, you’ll feel better, and so will she. Take it one day at a time, Ale. That’s all you have to do.” 

It was amazing how rationally Olga could speak about such a stressful situation. It was also amazing how quickly she calmed Alexia’s anxiety. When Olga laid it all out like that, it seemed manageable. Olga was always right, and the blonde knew that this case wasn’t different. Alexia tucked her face into the brunette’s neck, leaving a soft kiss on the skin there. “One day at a time.” She repeated, whole body relaxing into her girlfriend’s. 

One day at a time. Alexia could do that. And so could you, she hoped. 

The phone calls that had to be made the next day were difficult, to say the least. Alexia had to explain, several times over, what had happened. To the club, to your lawyer, to a few of your other teammates. Alexia, though, thrived in an environment where there were things to do, tasks to complete. It was easier to approach the situation in a clinical way, like it was a checklist, than to think about the feelings of it all. 

She left you with Ingrid and Mapi, who were going to take you to get what you needed from your house, and picked up Irene on her way to the Barça offices. Your social worker, lawyer, the club's lawyer, and a few of the coaches would be meeting her there. That was the next thing for her to check off, yet she was finding it incredibly difficult to keep her feelings in check. She kept seeing flashes of your face when you arrived last night. 

In all her years of knowing you, Alexia had never seen you do anything that was even remotely unkind. You were always always kind. It was difficult for her to imagine anyone hurting you, though she occasionally saw it happen on the pitch. What was impossible, though, was trying to figure out how your father had inflicted so much pain onto you. You were so good. Alexia wasn’t sure how, after losing your mom and enduring what you had, you remained purely good. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fucking fair. 

-------

“Look at you in this one!” Mapi practically shouted with glee, holding up a photo of a 5 year old you, striking a rather ridiculous pose and sticking out your hand in a peace sign. “Look at your tiny little face!” 

You rolled your eyes, shoving yet another photo album into the box. Your mom had loved to take photos, and there were countless albums filled with photos of you. You’d always liked to flip back through them, especially after losing her. The way she photographed; it was as if you could feel her love in the way she captured you.The most mundane things, captured, printed, and saved forever. Everything you did as a child excited your mom, made her beam with pride. It was easier to remember that grin she’d get, when you’d do something to make her laugh, when you looked back through these pictures. 

“Is this her?” Ingrid asked softly, holding up another photo, this time of 3 year old you, out cold in your mother’s arms as she smiled hugely at the camera. Your father must have taken that one. As always when you saw a photo of her, you felt a pang of longing in your chest, one that never eased with time. Sometimes, grief rushed through you with such power, you felt like you could double over in pain. Even now, even years later. That was something that never got better. 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

Ingrid smiled, handing it to Mapi, who also inspected it closely. 

“She looks kind.” Ingrid noted. You thought of her warm hugs, and the funny voices she’d do when she’d read you bedtime stories. The way she always put a little note in your lunch. The silly dance she’d do to distract you when you’d need to get a shot. When you’d score a goal and look into the stand and see her there, smiling proudly. Or when you’d miss a goal, and her smile would still be there, still proudly watching you play. 

You still looked to the stands for her sometimes, on instinct. You missed her proud smile and her warm hugs and her kindness more than anything. Ingrid was right; she really did look kind, in a way that only someone purely and completely good could. 

You bit your lip, nodding rapidly. “She was. Really kind.” 

“Nena, you look like her.” Mapi said quietly, looking back and forth between you and the photo. 

People never said that. Never. They talked about how you and your father were practically twins, how you had the same nose and the same mouth as him. The same hair color, the same laugh, the same walk. You were just like him, everyone said. No one ever really compared you to your mom. You always thought it was because she was much too beautiful to be compared to. 

“No, I look like my dad.” You disagreed, shaking your head and taking the picture from the Spaniard’s outstretched hand. 

Ignoring Ingrid’s look telling her to drop it, Mapi also shook her head.

 “No, you have her eyes. Look, when she smiles? They crinkle just like yours do when you smile.” Mapi pointed at the photo, and suddenly, you couldn’t tear your eyes off it. “And that dimple on her cheek? You have that too, but only when you smile really big.” 

“Really?” You asked, refusing to look away from the photo. Mapi nodded, and Ingrid voiced her agreement, too. 

“You look kind, just like her.” 

You squinted, seeing the resemblance finally, but not seeing the kindness. “I don’t think I’m as kind as she’d like me to be.” 

“Well, from everything you’ve ever told me about her, I think she’d be very proud of you.” Mapi said definitively. You shrugged, silently disagreeing with her. There was nothing to be proud of, you thought. You turned the page, hoping for something to distract from Mapi’s statement. The photo on the next page sent a rush of different emotions through you, and you could only stare at it for a moment before you let it slip from your grip as you stood. 

“Pequeña?”

“I need some air.” You choked out, practically stumbling to the front door and wrenching it open. Ingrid and Mapi looked after you, startled at your abrupt exit. 

Picking up the photo album you’d dropped, Ingrid’s face melted into one of understanding. She handed it over to the Spaniard, before getting to her feet herself and heading out the front door after you. Mapi took in the photo, not needing to think too hard about why it had upset you. 

You couldn’t have been more than 3, asleep in your car seat in the back of the car. The photo was from the point of view of the driver, and also captured your father, asleep in almost an identical position in the passenger seat. His arm was stretched back, hand reaching to where yours extended. You were gripping onto two of his fingers with your small fist, slumped to the side a bit in order to reach him. 

It didn’t look like a particularly comfortable position for either of you, yet you were both happily dozing. Mapi took a moment, willing herself not to rip the damn photo into pieces. The same hand you’d clung onto for comfort and safety as a child had inflicted the gash and the bruises that marked your face now. How does a parent go from loving and dedicated, as your father seemed in the photos, to the man he was now? Practically a stranger to you. The family that had known you was gone, leaving nothing in its absence. 

Mapi headed out after the two of you, not sure what she should say. What she could say. She stepped onto the front porch, heart melting a bit at the way you sat, with your head resting on Ingrid’s shoulder. The Norwegian’s hand rubbed slowly up and down your back, though you inhaled shakily every few seconds, crying silently. 

It appeared you didn’t have anything to say, either. 

-------

It was unclear whether Mapi suggested ice cream because you still had time to kill before Alexia arrived home from her meeting, if she was trying to cheer you up, or if she just wanted ice cream. Regardless, you had agreed timidly, not wanting to seem too excited as you felt they’d already done enough for you today. Ingrid had pounced on the idea, though, dragging you halfway across the city to the best ice cream shop in Spain. 

You appreciated her enthusiasm, even if you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go ho- back to Alexia’s, and take a nap. Alexia and Olga were both still out, though, and you were quite sure no one was going to leave you home alone anytime soon. 

The whole day had broken records, you were sure, of Mapi being quieter than she’d ever been in her life. Her and Ingrid didn’t try to get you to talk, not really. They just kept you company, allowing you to stare out at the ocean from where the three of you sat eating your ice cream. Well, mostly. 

“Nena?” Mapi asked. You hummed, looking up from your ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, it had been your mom’s favorite. Or was that peanut butter chocolate chip? You couldn’t remember. “Do you want to go visit your mom? Where she’s buried, I mean?” 

You furrowed your brow, looking a bit defensive. “What would that do?” 

“You could talk to her. Or… I don’t know. It might be nice to visit. I always feel my abuela around a bit more after I visit her.” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your mouth shut, but the Spaniard easily clocked the skeptical look on your face. She nudged you with her shoe, keeping her expression curious and open. “What?” 

“Mapi, my mom is dead. There is nothing to feel.” 

“You don’t think she’s hanging around?” 

“I don’t believe in God, Mapi. I don’t believe in heaven or hell, I don’t think she’s anywhere.” 

You used to believe. You’d been raised religious, kept up with it casually. Until your mom had gotten sick, and you’d laid awake night after night for months, praying to God that she’d get better. That He wouldn’t take her from you. And then she was gone and you decided that even if he was up there, you hated him. God has a plan, everyone always told you that, especially after she’d died. You didn’t care about any plan, though. Not now, not then. You wanted your mom back, divine plans be damned. 

She was gone, though. And it felt like she faded away from you with every passing day. 

You couldn’t quite hear her voice anymore. Couldn’t smell her perfume, even if you thought really hard. You couldn’t remember what her paella tasted like, or the little song she used to sing when she’d braid your hair. You weren’t sure if the red sweater or the green sweater had been her favorite. 

You felt the gap she’d left behind more than anything. You’d see something crazy happen, and think about how you wished you could tell her. Every song from her favorite artist that came out, every movie you knew she would have loved. Every goal you scored. Every game or trophy you won. You thought of her. 

You used to feel her everywhere and now you were afraid that you felt her absence more than anything. The harder you tried to hold on to your memories of her, the easier they seemed to slip away. If she was still around, why did it feel like she was only getting farther and farther away from you? 

Mapi interrupted your thought spiral. “You don’t have to believe in anything, or go visit anyone. We just want to help you, nena.” 

“I know.” You nodded shakily. A thousand other replies swirled around in your brain, but none of them made their way out of your mouth. They were too complicated to sift through, some of them completely contradictory. Your phone buzzed, much to your relief, with a text from Alexia. 

Hola, nena. How are you doing? We are almost done here, and then we can just relax the rest of the day. Maybe have a movie night? Whatever you feel like! It’s Olga’s night to cook, but everything else is your choice. See you soon. <3

Your stomach twisted with some emotion; you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. Maybe both. Hopeful, but terrified. You didn’t want to get used to being cared for. What would happen when it was taken away again? 

------

The meeting had gone well, if Alexia’s relieved mood was any indication. You weren’t sure what that meant for you, though. And you were more than a little scared to ask. What if she seemed relieved because they had decided they were going to take you away somewhere? And she wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore? 

You worried all through dinner, which had been delicious, though you hadn’t been able to stomach much. There were no signs that you were becoming less worked up, even as you sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped up in a very warm blanket. You’d chosen the movie, and Olga and Ale had bickered over who got to hold onto the remote. 

The domesticity of the situation wasn’t helping the turmoil in your head, everything compounding to become rather overwhelming. If you were to stay, where did you fit here? Alexia sat with her arm around her girlfriend, their hands linked together under the blanket they shared, you were sure. They were in love, and had a life together. Surely, you staying would just drive a wedge between them? And that was only if Alexia even wanted you to stay. 

Both her and Olga seemed to pick up on your increased anxiety, though, finally stepping in after you’d gnawed on all of your nails, and had just pulled so hard at one of your cuticles, it began to bleed. Alexia had paused the movie you’d chosen, disappearing to find a bandage, while her girlfriend turned to face you. 

“Hey, pequeña? Are you feeling anxious?” Olga asked gently, fighting back a sad frown at how stricken you looked to be asked so outwardly about your feelings. Your captain returned just in time to hear your shaky response. 

“A little.” You admitted. 

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” Alexia wondered, insisting on wrapping the adhesive bandage onto your finger herself, though you were more than capable. 

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. “The meeting today… Am I staying here? Or being sent somewhere else?” Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, which wasn’t an obvious good sign or bad sign. 

For Alexia, there was never any question. You were staying with her, she’d move heaven and earth to make it happen if she had to. The blonde hadn’t thought to tell you that you were staying with her, because it had never been up for debate. Clearly, though, you were still quite unsure that your captain wanted you around. 

You took her silence in a different way, though, now convinced you would be leaving, and began scrambling to assure her that it was okay. You understood. “I get it, Ale, you don’t need me around here, I don’t blame you at all…” 

Alexia found her voice finally, looking frantically at her girlfriend. “No! No, nena, you are staying here. You are staying here with us, for as long as you want to. I wouldn’t have you go anywhere else.” 

Your captain studied you, feeling a wave of sadness at the expression of shock on your face.

 “You want me to stay here?” You asked quietly, almost disbelieving. “Both of you?” 

“Yes.” Alexia promised. You fixed your attention on Olga, doubtfully gazing at her. Ale was your captain; but Olga owed you nothing. She just smiled gently at you, though, reaching out to squeeze your hand. 

“I want you here too, nena. I promise.” 

A beat passed, before you swallowed thickly and nodded. “Thank you.” You were barely able to keep your voice from breaking, but Alexia pulled you into her all the same. 

“Don’t thank us. Just believe us.” 

Nodding again, you laid your head on her shoulder, trying to ignore the tears falling from your eyes. What a strange feeling it was, to be loved. You’d forgotten. 

------

“I don’t want to do this.” You said quietly, not moving to undo your seatbelt even as Alexia turned the car off. “Please don’t make me.” 

Your captain didn’t want to make you do anything. She would have been content to let you stay curled up on her couch, where you obviously felt relatively safe. That’s all she wanted; for you to feel safe. There was no way to avoid what came with the legal process, though, and this was a required step. 

 A familiar pained expression washed over Alexia’s face. “I know. I’m sorry. We have to do this.”

The we Alexia used made you feel a bit weird. It felt mostly like a good thing; like you weren’t alone. At the same time, it was also kind of scary. There was a lack of control that came along with relying on another person, and this was not something you were used to. You only grew paler as you and Alexia exited the car. She kept a guiding hand on your shoulder, and you weren’t convinced she didn't think you were about to bolt. 

“What if… what if I just talk to you, instead?” You asked, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the parking lot. With more patience than you thought you deserved Alexia turned back towards you, a sympathetic expression on her face. “No therapist, just you.” 

Your captain grabbed your hand, but didn’t tug you any closer to the building. “You can always talk to me pequeña. Always. I know you really don't want to do this, but your social worker is requiring it, as is your lawyer. It sucks, I know it sucks. You just have to do your best and tell her as much as you can. And if it’s awful, we’ll find someone else.” 

“If I don’t like her, I don’t have to come back?”

“No. I promise.” 

“And you’ll stay in the waiting room?” You hated being so openly vulnerable, but the care that your captain was showing you was making it increasingly difficult to remain stoic. 

“Of course. You aren’t doing this alone, nena. Any of it.” 

As you got in the elevator, and Ale pushed the button for the therapist office’s floor, you were struck with the thought that she’d so easily calmed your fears and anxieties. Your captain had always been a comforting individual, but when you showed up on her doorstep a few days ago, you never could have expected how easily she’d taken you in. It was like second nature to her, making sure you were okay. 

She made taking care of you seem… easy. You’d thought it to be a hard task for a long time. It was a bit astounding, how quickly Ale had you questioning things you’d been believing for years. 

Alexia had picked the therapist, you remembered. She’d done the research and found this woman, and for some reason, that made it easier for you to walk into the office and shake the therapist, Elia’s, hand. 

It was even easier when Alexia patted you on the cheek and sent you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right out here if you need me, okay?” 

With a nod, you followed the therapist into the room, feeling significantly less anxiety than you’d been feeling a few minutes ago. Odd. 

------- 

“Ms. Putellas?” Elia peeked her head out of the room, too professional to seem flustered, yet still clearly concerned with something. 

The blonde looked up from her phone, knowing very well that it had not been even close to the full hour you were supposed to be in there for. “Yes?” 

“Can you join us for a bit? We’re feeling a bit upset, and I think she needs…” Elia trailed off as Alexia lurched to her feet and practically ran into the room. You were crying into your hands, and your captain briefly thought that you’d been reduced to tears an unfair amount of times in the past few days. 

“Hey, hey, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, taking a seat on the couch next to you and carefully pulling you into her arms. “It’s okay, I've got you.” 

You had been trying to force your tears to stop, still not fully comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of Alexia, and this mostly strange woman sitting across from you. Your captain had such a calming aura about her, and you felt inexplicably better as soon as she took a seat next to you. Alexia was safe. 

“I-I…” It was a struggle to get any words out and you weren’t really sure what you were trying to say.

“Just give yourself a minute, focus on breathing.” Alexia coached, exaggerating her own breathing as you tried to match her. 

Your therapist watched with a completely impassive face as you clung to the blonde. Her job was to determine your mental wellbeing, as well as figure out if the placement you were in at the moment was the right one. She was quite sure she had her answers, only 20 minutes into the session. You were most definitely not okay. But you were probably in the right place. 

It was obvious to her that Alexia was someone you trusted. Someone you felt safe with. You’d tried to just get everything out in the open, thinking if you rushed through the whole story it wouldn’t hurt as much. You had been wrong; you were barely halfway through what you needed to say before you were bursting into tears and quietly asking for Alexia. It wasn’t very common for someone who had endured what you had to so easily trust someone, even outside of the initial situation. But she could see why you trusted Alexia. 

The blonde held you protectively, shushing you gently as you cried. All her attention was on you as she tried to calm you down. Not on Elia, not on the way the therapist was taking copious notes. Alexia wasn’t putting on any kind of performance to get to keep you. Her concern was genuinely only with your wellbeing in that moment. 

After a few minutes, Alexia leaned you back and handed you your water bottle, encouraging you to take a few sips. Once you’d done that, you used your shirt to wipe your eyes, and turned towards the therapist; though you didn’t meet her gaze. 

“Sorry. I thought I could get through that, I didn't mean to freak out.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Alexia and Elia said at the same time. You looked between them, caught between amusement and annoyance that they were suddenly ganging up on you. 

“You said something to me that I’d like to go back to, if that’s alright.” Elia said. You nodded your agreement, your hand gripping onto Alexia’s as if you were afraid the therapist was going to make her leave. She didn’t do any such thing, and Alexia gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

 “You said the way your father acts is your fault.” Next to you, your captain inhaled sharply. “Can you explain to me why you think that?” 

You shrugged, suddenly looking very closed off. Elia wasn’t sure if the question had been too much, or if you were too embarrassed to admit the truth in front of Alexia. The rest of the session passed quickly, with you giving very short answers, clearly ready to be done for the day. 

She let you go early, though with homework; to try to figure out why you are so reluctant to blame your father for his behavior, and so willing to blame yourself. There was no answer, you thought to yourself. That was just how things were. 

-------

It was after your first training session with the team that you brought up your idea. It had been a good day; though everyone seemed to go out of their way to give you a hug or make you laugh, you didn’t mind it. It was as good of a day as you’d had in a while, and you weren’t quite sure why you were so set on ruining it. Your captain could very obviously tell that there was something on your mind; that something had been for a few days. 

You were both eating a snack in the kitchen when you finally let her in, and asked what you’d been thinking about asking for a while now. 

“Ale?” 

“Hmm?” The blonde looked up at you from the banana she was peeling, giving you a very soft and very encouraging smile. It wasn’t like you to start a conversation that seemed serious; normally, she was the one prompting you. 

“I… I want to visit my dad. In jail.” You rushed through the sentence, as if Alexia wouldn’t understand but still agree if you spoke fast enough. No luck, though, as Alexia looked at you in surprise. This was clearly not what she had been expecting. 

“No, nena, I think that is a really bad idea.” She said firmly. 

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” You said without thinking. After a beat, your face flushed red and you tensed with what could only be described as fear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” 

Slightly puzzled by your panic, she put her snack down and walked around the counter to stand next to you. Cautiously, she put a hand on your back, feeling you relax at her touch. 

Now that she thought about it, Alexia had never once seen you advocate for yourself. Never. And from the way you were shrinking under her gaze, you clearly thought you weren’t allowed to disagree with her, or ask for what you needed. She wondered how long it had been since you’d felt safe enough to just… exist. Live. Do things without worrying and worrying about the consequences of the tone of your voice or the things you said. Alexia knew she had to tread carefully; because while she was sure going to visit your dad would not end well for you… she didn’t want to control you. 

“You don’t need my permission.” Alexia said gently. “I am not your keeper; you are old enough to make your own decisions, especially about things like this. I just really don’t think it is a good idea. I won’t stop you, nena, but I do not think you should do it.”

You contemplated, looking like you were trying to decide if this was some kind of trick or not. Would she really not be mad if you went against what she wanted? You didn’t want to risk what little peace you’d found in the past week. Nothing was worth that. You were just about to agree with her, drop the idea entirely, when she asked a follow up question, clearly trying to understand your motives. 

“Can I ask why you want to see him?” 

You worried your lip between your teeth, not entirely sure you knew why yourself. You just… had to see him. If there was a chance for you to get your father back, you’d take it. “If he says sorry…” 

“You’ll forgive him?” Alexia tried and failed to keep the disgust out of her voice and you frowned, withdrawing further into yourself. All your captain got was a shrug in response. He’d never said it before, and there was no reason for you to think he would now, but still. You clung to that hope; it was all you had left of your family. And you were so sure that your mother wouldn’t want you to give up on him so easily. 

“He’s my dad, Ale.” You mumbled, shrugging out from under her hand and wrapping your arms around yourself. Alexia noticed you do that when you were anxious, or upset; like you were trying to self soothe. She hated it. You didn’t need to do that yourself anymore, she was here, ready and willing to give you all the hugs you could ever need. You looked downright afraid of her in that moment, though, and the blonde had to school her features and take a deep breath before she said anything. 

Alexia knew that if she said she didn’t want you to again, you wouldn’t go. Your captain had spent the last week analyzing all of your behavior, talking to your therapist, talking to your teammates, talking to her mother and her girlfriend. Anyone that could give her some insight into how to best help you. She felt like she understood you, on some level, now. Much more than she had before, when you’d just been her little quiet teammate, who did her best to stay in the shadows. There was a complexity to you that she’d missed entirely, but now that she saw it, she realized how desperately you craved her approval. You’d always been closer to her than anyone else, but now you were practically attached at the hip to her. Not that she minded; whatever made you feel safe. 

So Alexia knew that your paramount worry was what she thought. And no matter how many times she tried to convince you that you were allowed to make this decision for yourself, she knew you wouldn’t go against what she wanted. She didn’t need to ask if you were sure, either; you wouldn't have brought it up to her if you weren’t. 

With a sigh, she relented. “If that's what you want to do, then that’s what we’ll do. I can take you later today?”  

Your whole body deflated with relief, and you were diving forward to hug her tightly before you could stop yourself. “Thank you.” You mumbled the words into her shoulder, beyond grateful for her understanding. 

She hugged you back, tightly, the now familiar scent of her perfume overwhelming your senses. It didn’t matter how many times she offered you a hug or a kiss on the forehead or a hand to hold; you were pretty sure you’d always be surprised. It was apparent to her that you were understandably touch starved, but you still seemed a little confused why you sunk into her hugs, and were beginning to do the same with Olga’s. 

“Of course, pequeña.” Alexia replied, hoping with all of her being that this wouldn’t prove to be a mistake. She had a sinking feeling it would be. 

------

His face appeared every time you closed your eyes. More than his empty words, and the careless look in his eyes as he looked at you through the glass. He hadn’t cared that you visited, hadn’t apologized. He’d blamed you for provoking him, somehow. And for what happened after. 

And still, his appearance was burned into your mind. You had a bruise across your forehead, and he had a matching one. You’d gotten the stitches out of your cheek the day before, and now he had some in his cheek. 

You’d look even more alike, now, with matching scars on your face. 

It was like as you healed, and moved on, you transferred your pain to him. Like there was no growth without forgetting. You were leaving him behind buried in grief. The people that loved you were desperately trying to pull you out, and suddenly, you felt like digging your heels in and going limp. Because he was your dad and if he was hurting, shouldn’t you be hurting too? Just as much?  Why were you allowed to be happy when he wasn’t able to?

Memories ran through your mind, on repeat. His smile when you scored a goal on him for the first time. His grimace as he saw you walk through the door of your house. His hand on yours, teaching you how to hold a baseball. His hands on you, pushing and pushing; like you were a physical manifestation of his pain, and he wanted it away from him at all costs. A whispered I love you as he and your mom put you to bed after a late night. Not a word uttered while you sobbed, her casket being lowered into the ground.  

Was he still in there somewhere? Buried under all the hurt and the pain and the grief, did he still love you? He had to. If he didn’t, you had only yourself to blame. For leaving the house that night and going to Alexia’s. For talking to the police. For pressing charges. 

The very small logical part of you knew this wasn’t true, but the overwhelming majority of your brain couldn’t comprehend that you weren’t to blame, that he was. How could you hate someone and love someone at the same time? You were sure you did. You loved him and you hated him. You wanted to never see him again, and you wanted to go back home with him, even if nothing was different. 

After everything, you still loved him. How could he not love you? How could he not care, like he’d said was the case inside that jail, with a swollen face and a broken look in his eyes. 

You moved like a zombie as you exited the building, and Alexia was quick to jump out of the car and run to you. You were practically in a catatonic state as she reached you, face completely blank. She placed both her hands on your cheeks, worry only growing when you didn’t react other than to flicker your eyes up at her, and then look away.

“Nena?” 

No response. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” 

Still, nothing. 

Alexia was at a complete loss; you continued to stare blankly just over her shoulder. It felt like you were underwater, your captain’s words mostly unintelligible. A thousand thoughts ran through your head, but really only one broke through. Alexia was talking to you, Alexia was here. You lurched towards the safety that she brought, practically falling into her arms. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Alexia said, wrapping her arms around you just in time before you fell crumpled to the ground. “You’re alright, you’re safe. He’s locked up in there, and you’re out here with me.”

As your captain led you to the car, you wondered if a part of you wasn’t locked up there with him. If you’d ever be able to pry that piece away, and give it back to yourself. 

------

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Alexia burst out, attempting to rise to her feet. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back down onto the sofa. 

“No, Ale.” Olga sighed. 

With a dramatic sigh, Alexia flopped onto her side, having been fighting this battle for at least two hours. As soon as you’d both returned home from your visit, still without having said a single word, you disappeared up to the guest room. The blonde had wanted to go after you immediately, but Olga had stopped her, encouraging her to give you time to process whatever had happened on your own. Alexa hadn’t wanted to do that then, and now it had been two hours, and she still hadn’t seen you. 

“But-”

“No. Give her time.” 

“I’ve given her time, amor. Two whole hours!” 

“She must be exhausted, Alexia. Imagine how mentally tiring this all has to be for her. You have to let her work some of this out herself. She can’t decide how she feels if you’re hovering over her asking her the same questions she is asking herself.” As always, everything the brunette was saying made sense, though it still didn’t seem to make the midfielder feel any better. 

“What if she needs a hug?” Alexia mumbled, pulling at a loose thread on the couch, glaring at her girlfriend when she slapped the blonde’s hand away from it. 

“Maybe you need a hug.” Olga replied, shifting her laptop off her legs, and opening her arms for Alexia. The blonde was only able to hold out for a few seconds, her frown quickly melting away as she sank into the smaller girl’s embrace. One long hug later, Alexia evidently felt better, sliding off her girlfriend’s lap so she could resume her work. The captain reached for her phone, smiling triumphantly to herself when she read the text she’d received. 

“Mapi says I should go in there!” 

Olga didn’t look up from her computer. “And Ingrid? What does Ingrid say?” 

Alexia’s face fell, and she read back through the thread. “To give her time.” She sighed, throwing her phone back onto the couch and ignoring the smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Another entire hour passed before you emerged from your room, shuffling down the stairs, wrapped in one of your mother’s hoodies. Alexia froze, like you were a wild animal she was going to scare off, while Olga remained completely normal, smiling at you and patting the couch in between the two of them. 

“Hola, nena. Are you hungry?” 

You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest and attempting to make yourself as small as possible. Alexia continued to stare at her, and if you’d been feeling more yourself, you absolutely would have made fun of her for it. You could barely look at her, feeling horrible that you hadn’t listened to her advice in the first place. At the same time, you knew that there was no part of you that would have been able to move on without the clarity you received today. If you could even call it clarity, if you could even consider moving on. 

Sensing that the two of you needed to talk, Olga rose to her feet, shutting her laptop, and affectionately ruffling your hair. “I’ll go get us some pizza for dinner, yes?” 

You both agreed, although you did so somewhat begrudgingly. There was a conversation incoming, you knew, and it seemed as though it would include some variation of I told you so.

You wanted to avoid that, and for some reason, decided the best way to accomplish this goal was to just… start talking. As soon as the door was shut behind Olga, you were talking, feeling Alexia watching you carefully. 

“He didn’t say sorry. He wasn’t even really that mad, he was just so… indifferent to me. He told me it was my fault, and I knew he’d say that. I don’t-. I think I would be mad at him if… if they hadn’t…” 

“If they hadn’t what, nena?” Alexia wondered. Your face had a glazed over look to it, like you weren’t full there with her, but you responded nonetheless. 

“They found out he was in for ‘hitting his kid’, he said. And they beat him for it. His face was all messed up, one of his eyes was barely open. He looked so defeated, Ale, and it’s all my fault.” 

Alexia was immediately shaking her head. “No. He made his own decisions, and he is facing the consequences of them now. None of that is your fault. That’s what happens to men in prison that hit their kids.” 

There was a note of… satisfaction in Alexia’s voice. Like justice had been done. 

“He didn’t hit me.” You disagreed weakly. 

“No, he broke down your bedroom door and threw a bottle of vodka at your face. He hurt you. That isn’t okay.” 

“I know it’s not okay, I know that. But he’s grieving, Ale. He’s hurting too. He misses my mom just like I do, it’s not his fault.” It was as if you were pleading with Alexia to agree with you. To let him off the hook, or maybe… maybe you were pleading with her to stand her ground. And convince you of what you knew was right. 

Alexia remained firm, not raising her voice even as you did so. “That is no excuse to hurt you. You have been grieving, too, and-”

“I pushed him once,” you cried, tears suddenly flooding down your face. “I pushed him and he pushed me back but I started it. It’s all my fault, all of this is all my fault.” You dropped your forehead onto your knees, sniffling and gasping for air as you tried to get a hold on yourself. You felt the presence of Alexia next to you, carefully rubbing her hand up and down your back. 

“He is an adult, and you are a kid. You didn’t deserve any of this, pequeña. You don’t deserve to be his punching bag just because he is hurting. You are hurting, too, and he should be taking care of you.”

Her voice was soft in your ear, and you wanted to believe her. So badly. “He’s my dad,” you whimpered, lifting your head just enough for the blonde to see your tearstained face, the fresh scar on your cheek. Every day she had to look at it, she knew she’d never forgive him for what he’d done. 

“I know.” 

“I just want…I want everything to go back to how it was, before she got sick and before he stopped loving me. I want to have a parent again. It’s not fair. ” 

“No, cariño, it isn’t fair, not at all.” 

It didn’t quite seem like you were hearing Alexia, but she certainly heard the next words out of your mouth. 

“I’m all alone,” you choked out. More than anything in the world, you didn’t want to be alone. Even if all you had was your father… at least you had him. At least you had someone. It was ridiculous and completely nonsensical, but you think you would have forgiven him for anything, found a way to blame yourself, if it meant you got to keep the shattered pieces of the family you once had. The pieces cut your hands to shreds, but you held onto them nonetheless, thinking you had no other option. That it was that, or nothing at all. 

Hands guided your face up further, and you were surprised to see a fierce look on Alexia’s face. “You are not alone. You will never be alone. Mapi, Ingrid, Irene, Frido, everyone would be there in a heartbeat for you, if you needed them. No one on this team would ever let you be alone.” 

Alexia spoke carefully, trying to gauge whether the words were sinking in or not. 

“And pequeña, I would never, ever let you be alone. I’ve got you, now. You are important to me, I care about you, and you are not alone. I know you feel like you are, but you aren’t, you absolutely aren’t. I am here now, nena, and I always will be. For as long as you need me, I'll be right here.” She gripped your hand in hers, her rather impassioned speech echoing in your ears. 

Maybe, you thought, you could put yourself back together. With your teammates help, with Alexia’s help, it could be accomplished. 

You didn't think he could. With your help or without it, he was who he was. And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t change that. If he wanted to stay in the grief, live in the past, there was nothing you could do to drag him to peace against his will. Maybe he didn’t deserve peace, or happiness. 

You weren’t sure that you did, either, but that was another fight, for another day. As Alexia hugged you tightly, as Olga entered through the front door and joined you both on the couch, you didn’t feel lonely for the first time in what felt like forever. Whatever was to come, you weren’t alone in it. You didn’t believe that entirely, yet, but you got the sense that you would, one day. You got the sense that there was someone out there that wouldn’t rest peacefully until you were happy, and safe, and loved. 

As suddenly as she had gone, you felt like she was back. Standing next to you in court as you testified against your father. Watching from the stands as you played some of the best football of your life. 

Her hand on your shoulder as you moved out of Alexia’s spare room, a year later. A different person than the one that had shown up on her porch, bloody and entirely broken. You felt her right all over, all the time. But especially as you hung her picture up on the wall in your new apartment. The family photos wall, you’d decided. 

Your mom wasn’t alone up there. She was surrounded by photos of you and your teammates. Of you laughing and holding trophies and looking like the energetic, happy child she’d known. Alexia helped you hang all the pictures up, and you had an overwhelming sense that your mother, wherever she was, approved of your new family. Maybe, she’d even sent them to you, knowing her girl needed all the love in the world. If there was anything you were sure about, it was that you were loved. 

And what a feeling that was. 

-------

don't really have to much to say here. let me know what you think! thanks for reading 🫶🏻🥰

[b2cute]

What’s your problem?

rough dom!matt x fem!reader

notes: this is my first smut so please lmk your thoughts!! send any requests ☁️

warnings: obv smut, degrading, pet names, fem receiving, p in v, cover it before you smother it,chocking, slapping, arguing, angst to smut to fluff, i think that’s all

enjoy 😊

word count: 2,460

*y/n’s pov*

*beep beep beep*

the loud sound coming from beside me causes me to jolt up and widen my eyes. i check the time.

3:46 a.m.

i stormed back into matt’s room after an argument we had. nick and i went out for dinner at boa and i came home to a cranky boyfriend that decided to his take anger out on me. instead of fixing the issue, we both agreed to ignore eachother for the rest of the night.

i go on my phone for about 20 minutes before my stomach growled at me. i decided to head over to the kitchen and fix up some cereal.

“look who decided to show their face to world! everyone welcome y/n to earth” matt snarks sitting at the dining table, paralleling the kitchen. i roll my eyes at the comment he made considering chris and nick went to sleepover at madi’s house leaving the house to just us.

“don’t be a brat just because you exhausted yourself in my bedroom.”

again. what is up with these rude comments?

“seriously matthew, can you act normal for 5 fucking seconds? you turned twenty months ago, act like it and quit being immature” i snap. my stomach gurgling louder as i pour cinnamon toast crunch in a bowl. i reach for the milk in the refrigerator and pour it into the bowl as i join matt across the dining room chair he’s sitting in.

silence

i bring my knees up to my chest as i eat the cereal looking up at the light flashing from my hand as i scroll endlessly on my phone. matt continues journaling and i can’t help but notice his veins appearing through his arm as he wrote quickly. his black tank top and gray sweats don’t help my imaginations, but i quickly snap out of them considering he’s being an asshole.

“hmm, so you have an attitude and staring a problem y/n?”

that’s was my final straw. i quickly slam the now empty cereal bowl into the sink and practically sprint upstairs to nicks bedroom and slam the door. i wasn’t going to spend another second with him until he sorted himself out.

i crawled into nicks silk sheets and bring the blanket up to my chest. i stayed in the bedroom with my back turned from the door. i wasn’t crying. i was frustrated. but that’s the thing with matt. he never admits he’s wrong.

*matts pov*

*slam*

she was being such a brat and i don’t even know why. it was like y/n wanted to get me worked up. i had already gotten into a shitty argument with laura and the managing team about the “lack of effort” i put into videos and her attitude made the situation way worse. i gave her a bit of time before i start to head upstairs. i knock on the door, no answer.

i slowly open the door to see y/n on her phone with her airpods in. she glances at me with an expression i cannot read.

did i seriously mess up that bad? i couldn’t have.

“cmon y/n let’s go to my room and sort this out.”

she takes her airpods out and returns them to the case. “okay.” i walk over to the side of the bed and take her forearm as i guide her downstairs, her following my steps. as i open the door to the room she enters, closing the door behind her and locking it.

*y/n’s pov*

we sit on matt’s bed, facing eachother. i could see his angry expression through his face, but he was trying to hide it.

“look y/n i don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to sort it out, okay? i’ve had a bad day already and your nitpicking isn’t making it any better.”

he’s got to be serious.

“my nitpicking?!” i say raising my voice. “from the second i walked into the door you have shown me nothing but disrespect. you’re being ignorant and selfish matt” my eyes burning from the emotions.

“im not the one who locked themselves in my room to avoid the situation now did i, y/n. now you’re going to get rid of that fucking attitude and quit raising your voice or el-“

“or else what?” i snap, raising my voice even higher.

matt lets out a sigh, almost like an “i told you so” breath. “you asked for it.”

before i could process what he meant, his tattooed covered arm reached to my throat and neck, giving it a squeeze. “you want to act like a fucking slut, then you’re going to take me like a fucking slut.” he growls pinning me to the headboard. his eyes were coated black with a small ring of blue. the hunger on his face growing by the second.

*slap*

“answer me slut, how are you going to take it?”

i was so shocked i didn’t know what to say, but i had to admit, i kinda liked it.

another slap.

“like a slut” i whimpered from the stinging on my left cheek.

“good, you’re going to listen to everything i say and don’t even think about cumming with asking me.”

i nod vigorously.

before i can speak, matt’s lip attach to mine quickly. his tounge explores my mouth as he quickly dominates me. he bites on my bottom lip as he slowly moves to my cheek. then my jaw.

soft moans are leaving my mouth as i tug on his brown locks. “fuck matt just like that” i say squeezing my eyes shut. “yea? you like it when i mark you whore?”

i nod quickly. “use your words or i’ll stop” matt growls between kissing my neck. “yes matt i love it”

i was a moaning mess. matt continued to suck, bite, and lick my neck. he left marks that were going to stay for weeks, maybe even longer.

matt quickly disregards his top and not long after comes to rip mine off. “hm, no bra tonight?” matt smirks before taking my right tit to his mouth. he swirls his tounge around and lightly nibbles it while taking the left and pinching my nipple with his long fingers.

“nnngh it feels so good but i need more matt” i whine underneath him. he pauses his movements and look back at me. “such a needy slut y/n” he replies.

before i could say anything else, he pulls me towards him using while hooking his arms underneath my thighs. matt rips my wide legged sweats off leaving me in just my panties. his face was so close to my throbbing pussy that is could feel his warm breaths on my puffy clit.

“you’re soaked y/n” matt growls.

*slap*

his hand slapped my folds. i let out a pornographic moan from the impact. “who does this pussy belong to?” “you matt, all you”

he chuckled through the whimpers i let out and finally takes my panties off. wasting no time, matt comes in contact with my clit and sucks on it so harshly. his hands came up to my tits, pinching and kneading them.

“mm-matt oh MY GOD” i screech. if he kept this up i would orgasm in no time.

matt stops sucking and lets go of my tits only to use one hand to spread my folds out more and the other hand vigorously rubs my clit.

i started to scream. it felt so good. “MATT UMPH SO GOOD” the knot in my stomach begging to release. “please let me cum” i plead getting hungrier by the second.

“go ahead let it out angel” matt says. with that i quickly release all over the sheets, but this doesn’t stop matt from continuing. “too much matt, i can’t tak-“

“whether you like it or not, you’re going to take it slut. you want to keep arguing with me, this is what you get. shouldn’t have got me so worked up y/n” matt argues. i couldn’t say anything as my swollen clit was getting thrown everywhere.

he finally lets go and i quickly close my legs together. my legs were shaking and i had tears rolling down my cheek. suddenly, i feel matt’s arms separate my legs. “did i fucking say i was done?” i nod my head no, slowly but enough to answer his question. “answer my question y/n”

“n-no you did not” i plead, my eyes and face swollen from the tears due to the overstimulation i was receiving. “yea that’s what i thought”

matt sticks his middle and ring finger into my cunt and wastes no time pumping in and out of me. he lowers his head more as he returns to my clit, nibbling and kissing it. “mmph matt” my hands tug at his messy curls. his eye brows were brushed in every direction and his cheeks were painted with a light pink. he continues pumping into me as my back arches. i was on the verge of passing out due to his movements. i felt his fingers curl up and find my sweet spot.

matt continued to hit my g-spot and i felt the familiar knot return. “C-CLOSE” i whisper being worn out. “hold it.” matt snaps. the blue in his eyes completely disappeared. i couldn’t take it anymore, but i didn’t want it to stop.

matt continues to thrust his fingers into my pussy and rub harshly on my clit as i scream. not taking it anymore, i release all over his fingers.

“didn’t i tell you that you couldn’t cum yet?” matt mumbled. “ c-can’t hold any l-longer” i say as my body is worn out. i feel my body go limp as matt removes his fingers out of my pussy. he gets up and shifts so he’s sitting on the bed. i couldn’t open my eyes but i felt his move up again, this time lifting me up. he places me on his desk chair and throws my legs over each arm chair.

“since you can’t follow simple rules like a good girl, you’re going to take it one more time, and if you don’t hold it, well… i can go all fucking night.” matt snarks. i quickly shoot my eyes open in fear. the thought of going all night sounded intriguing, but i couldn’t even handle two orgasms.

i nod slowly at matt’s remarks and feel his swollen lips come in contact with my neck. his kisses were soft, but passionate. i moan softly at the sudden sensation and my hands reach for his hair one more time. matt begins to slide is gray sweatpants off along with his dark blue boxers. his dick is swollen and his tip was a harsh pink shade, leaking with precum.

with one quick touch, matt slips right into me, considering how wet i was. without letting me adjust matt begins to pound into me. one of his hands crept to my throat giving it a light squeeze while the other hand went to my clit once again rubbing and pinching harshly. “AH i’m t-too sensitive!” i scream my hand quickly trailing to matt’s wrist in attempt to move it away from my lower half. i quickly regret the action when matt’s hand squeezes my throat tighter.

“don’t even think about doing that again” matt says as he continues to push in and out of me. “s-sorry i just can’t take a-anymore” i cry. my face was red and the tears were everywhere. “yes you can. you will.” matt says. after a couple minutes of matt’s actions he lets out a groan. “fuck y/n, i’m close” matt says. both his hands come on either side of the desk chair as he pounds into me. the brown haired boys eyes were screwed shut and his eyebrows furrowed. “m-me too” i manage to say using every last bit of energy in me. “can i please cum matt?” i beg. i’ve been holding it since he began thrusting into me. “do you think you deserve it” matt mumbles. i nod my head quickly before he says “go ahead, cum you whore.”

without waiting any further, i release for the third time that night. matt rails me through my high before he finally reaches his climax. he releases long white strings into my as he removes his cock from inside of me.

finally catching my breath, i feel matt’s present leave the room before he comes back in.

*matts pov*

i return to the room with a towel and water for y/n. she was collapsed on the chair, her legs still spread as both our cums we’re seeping out of her. i walk over and clean her up gently. she winces at the touch and grabs my biceps for support. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. she mumbles something but it was almost inaudible. “speak up baby” i say as i begin to change the sheets. “can’t move” is all y/n can get out of her soft lips.

i quickly finish putting the new sheets on and throw the old ones in the wash. i walk over to my drawer and take out a pair of my boxers and a ransom t-shirt for y/n. picking her up gently, i place her on the bed and lift her legs up to skips the boxers on. i lift her back up and her head quickly fad on my chest and i attempt to put the t-shirt over her head. after i dress her up i walk over and change into a new pair of boxer and blue plaid pajama pants. i grab my hair brush and walk over to y/n.

“you’re hairs a mess baby let me brush it” i chuckle. y/n lets out a soft hum as i brush her beautiful hair . once im finished, i put the hairbrush on the nightstand and lift the covers as i pick y/n up and slips her underneath them. i plant a kiss on her forehead before walking onto the other side of the bed and getting in.

after a moment of silence y/n mumbles “does this mean your not mad at me anymore?” i let out a laugh before replying to her. “of course i’m not mad at you baby i couldn’t even if i tried.” with that, i grab y/n and she throws her legs and arms over me. her head was snuggled in the crook of my neck and i leaned my face at the top of her head as i plant a kiss there.

“my sweet girl, get some rest my love”

taglist: (comment here to be on it)

@mattsleftnipple03 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @mangoposts @guccifrog @lovingmattysposts @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @n00dl3zzz

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: just the three of us

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: G

genre: romance, fluff

pairing: alastor x reader x lucifer (radioapple x reader)

summary: when someone destroys part of the new hotel, specifically aiming for charlie, the age old question of where will everyone sleep is asked. don’t worry, alastor and lucifer have a plan… surprisingly.

After the last extermination fight and the newly renovated hotel, sinners flocked to the hotel in droves. To the point that tonight, as you checked the last person in, there were no more rooms.

“That is going to be a problem as we get further along…” you murmur, reshuffling the paperwork you needed to file.

“What is a problem, my dear?” Alastor’s voice suddenly rang out near the checkin counter and you turned to look at him, not reacting to his sudden appearance as he had done this so many times, you were used to it. You looked at him seeing him dressed down, jacket gone, for the night and blushed, quickly turning away, busying yourself with fixing the paperwork.

“We’re all out of rooms tonight Alastor. It’ll be an issue because eventually we may need to expand the hotel to fit everyone.” You explained.

“Hmmmm…” Alastor glanced over to Lucifer who was fixing a drape for some reason as you turned back to Alastor. “That will be his problem then.” He smiled at you and you gave him a thumbs up, stashing the paperwork in the right drawer and locking it up. You handed the keys to Alastor and walked around the counter and sighed.

“I am so excited to-“ You were suddenly cut off as Charlie came running down the stairs, calling your name and crying a bunch of “I’m so sorry!” with it. She collided against you and hugged you and you hugged her in return on instinct.

“Charlie, what’s up?” You ask, worried for her as she keeps apologizing.

“Charlie, come now. We can’t help if we don’t know what’s happened.” Alastor said, as gently as Alastor could. You look at Alastor and then at Lucifer who had joined you hearing his daughter wailing.

“I-They-Your room!” Charlie got out, still crying.

“Okay. What’s wrong with my room Char?” You ask gently, holding her shoulders concerned.

“It’s destroyed!” She cries, Vaggie now coming down the staircase out of breath.

“Yeah, half of the 30th floor is gone. Everyone’s okay, Fat Nuggets is safe too. But it’s gone.” Vaggie explained.

“Does that include-“ Alastor begins and stops when Vaggie nods her head.

“It includes your room too Alastor.” Vaggie said, looking at Alastor as annoyance shined across his face.

“Who did this?” Alastor ground out.

“It’s nothing I can’t fix!” Lucifer exclaimed and Charlie cried harder. You looked at Lucifer and smiled as a way to say ‘thank you’ for trying to fix whatever was happening, his eyes widening a bit and a blush staining his cheeks. Vaggie looked and landed on you as the best person to talk to as Alastor was seething to your right.

“So, why can’t Lucifer fix the floor Vaggie?” You ask, consoling Charlie as Lucifer looked confused at what you said, opening his mouth to explain, he just said he could fix it.

“The type of… magic… that is up there… needs to dissipate before anyone can go near it again.” Vaggie explained. Lucifer and Alastor squinted at Vaggie, trying to understand.

“What happened?” You ask, more confused than anything.

“Someone left something for Charlie, a gift, and when she picked it up I heard ticking so I threw it-“ Vaggie started, Lucifer gasping and his hand now resting on Charlie’s head protectively.

“Into my room?” You ask.

“Yeah,” Vaggie nodded. “I knew you weren’t in there. I got everyone out of that side and when it went off, well, a very strong aphrodisiac, it’s pink so I’m going to take a guess there, was set loose. Everyone’s fine, no ones affected and everyone above the floor has been given guidance to keep their windows shut and to alert us if they feel any symptoms. But it took out part of the building and it’s lingering. We were able to contain it so it won’t seep into the hotel either.” Alastor’s face with a still ever present smile looked disgusted and displeased.

“That was intended to hurt you and Charlie then, you know that?” You ask, clutching Charlie tighter, looking at Lucifer whose face looked grim.

“I know. It means that they know what floor we’re on, and what room was ours.” Vaggie confirmed.

“We’ll need to make better schematics when we rebuild.” Alastor glanced at Lucifer, pointedly staring at him.

“Regardless, they knew what floor the staff was on too, it was to take all of us out. We’ll need to put protections in place.” You murmur as you guide Charlie to the couch. “We’ll have to deal with it in the morning though. Are there protections that can be put on the hotel and specifically staff?” You turn to ask Lucifer and Alastor. They both nod, saying yes at the same time and then eyeing eachother.

“Okay. Please, work together to put them in place.” Both nodded and went off discussing amongst themselves “Vaggie, do we have places for those displaced?” You ask, your hand absent mindedly petting Charlie’s head.

“Everyone except for Husk, Angel, myself, Charlie, Pentious and Nifty.” Vaggie explained.

“Myself and Alastor as well.” I add and Vaggie nods. Suddenly, both Alastor and Lucifer come back, and Alastor suggests, “Why don’t Husker, Angel, Charlie, Pentious and Nifty as well as yourself, Vaggie, sleep in the common area here. We can create it as a room for now until we can access the damage tomorrow.”

“What about our rooms and sleeping places, Alastor?” You ask, looking at him like he’d gone off his rocker.

“Oh, you can come sleep in my quarters!” Lucifer pipes up, smiling. No one else seems to feel that Alastor or Lucifer’s sudden agreement on this was strange. You don’t have time to think about it though as the crew comes down and Vaggie explains the proposition. There are cheers of “movie night” and running to grab snacks.

You look down to see Charlie gone and look up to see her and Lucifer talking. You sigh, feeling the day suddenly catch up to you, when you feel Alastor murmur to you, “Why don’t you go upstairs?” You look to him confused.

“Go on little doe, we’ll get everyone situated down here. You’re off duty now.” Alastor says pushing you toward the other staircase. You sigh, thinking Alastor is acting weird and wave as those in the common area yell good night, seemingly taking this turn of events well. You walk up the stairs, and feel exhausted from the day. Your mind wondering to who could have placed something like that up there.

You hesitate outside of the door to Lucifer’s quarters, you know that he said y’all would be sleeping there but it still felt odd. You sighed and walked in, admiring how expansive it was before seeing a very comfy looking couch across from the bed. You snickered to yourself, knowing you’d be falling asleep in a matter of minutes and then Alastor and Lucifer would have to share a bed.

“What’s better than a get along shirt? A get along bed.” You chuckle as you collapse onto the couch and are swept off into a dreamless sleep.

———•———•———

You slowly awake to arguing and whispers. You open your eyes to two pairs of eyes staring down at you. You yelp and then fall off the couch, landing on top of Lucifer. His cheeks aflame as he stared at you. You realize that your top is in his hands and there’s a new top in Alastor’s hands. Both of them are in pajamas, and staring at you wide eyed.

“Why am I undressed?” You ask confused.

“Well, you see… you looked uncomfortable and so we wanted to make you more comfortable and so we just grabbed new clothes for you and were going-“ Lucifer started rambling before Alastor cut him off.

“We wanted to ensure your comfort dear, so we were going to change you. We weren’t looking at anything, gentleman’s promise.” Alastor said, softer than he normally spoke. You, awake enough now, looked at both of them. The air in the room was tense and they both looked partially guilty, and while also anxious.

“I don’t care if you were looking, jeez.” Their eyes widen at that. “I don’t know why you’re being both, so weird.” You say, leaning over and grabbing the shirt from Alastor and then coming back to where you were sitting putting it on. You move around a bit and shimmy to get the shirt that is huge on you actually situated when suddenly Lucifer’s hands go to your hips digging in and stop you moving. His breaths were heavy and his eyes lidded.

“Please-“ he breathed. “Stop moving.” You looked down and realized you were straddling him as you yelped in shock and shot yourself over to Alastor, Lucifer whining at the loss of contact, as you accidentally land between Alastor’s legs, your upper back right against him. He grunts and you look up at him, his cheeks aflame a gorgeous red and you realize what you’ve done again, so you leap away from both of them sitting on the floor near the edge of the couch.

“I am so so sorry. I am so sorry.” You’re muttering and hold your head in your hands. You’re quiet and can’t even look at them, the pajama shirt they were handing you askew and your work pants still on. Suddenly, you feel a cool hand on your cheek, guiding you to look up. You see Lucifer who had crawled over to comfort you and Alastor still on the couch, blush evident on his cheeks.

“If you wanted us so badly, you don’t have to throw yourself at us.” Lucifer chuckled, seeing you curl further into yourself muttering apologies. “You’re so smart you know that?” Lucifer murmured. His hand resting on your cheek now, thumb rubbing against your cheek bone, drawing your face to look at him. “You knew our little plan down there… You knew something wasn’t right.” he explains and your eyes widen.

“Your little plan… ‘our’ little plan… You worked together?” You ask incredulously. Lucifer and Alastor exchange a glance and then both chuckle.

“That is what she would be worried about, hmmm.” Alastor said, looking at you both.

“I don’t understand. Did you place something to ruin the hotel?” You say looking at them both like they are crazy.

“No!” Alastor exclaimed.

“No, no. Our plan after that happened, of sharing a room with you so we could talk. We wanted to do this in a different fashion but, you seem to have caught both our eyes, my duckling.” Lucifer explained and your eyes went wide.

“You both…” You trailed off not finishing the thought. “Seriously? You’re doing this right now?” You ask both of them. They both nod and you blanch.

“Strike while the iron’s hot and all that.” Alastor quips. You look at both of them, your heart feeling like it would burst and then your stomach drops coming to a realization they may want you to choose between them.

“I’m not choosing between either of you, nor will I allow this to be a competition. I value our friendships far too much for that, so if this is what this is, I’ll be going down with the others.” You say as you try and get up. Lucifer stops you though as Alastor gently places his hand on your shoulder, stopping you and explains, “You misunderstand us dear. We don’t want you to choose. We talked about it and we would both like to date you… simultaneously.” Alastor explained. Lucifer nods as they both watch your expression. You blink a few times, your mind not processing.

“Why me? I’m just… me. I’m a sinner. I’m not even an overlord. No one important.” You murmur, not looking at them again. There’s a sigh and Alastor lifts your face.

“You’re important to me, chère.” He whispers, almost like if he didn’t say it out loud then no one else could hear the weakness he was admitting to.

“You’re very important to me.” Lucifer says, guiding you to look at him as you realize that both Alastor and Lucifer’s fingers were interlocked on your chin and your heart fluttered. “You helped me see the light, when all I saw was a dark cage. You and Charlie did that.” He explains, his eyes brilliant in conviction and leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth. You gasp as his eyes widen and he looks a bit sheepish while Alastor stared accusingly at Lucifer.

“And Al, you’re okay with this?” You ask. “I don’t want anything to make you-either of you really, but I think Lucifer would be more open to all of this in this situation- but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Or this make you uncomfortable. Or anything. And honestly, I’d rather go downstairs and pretend this didn’t happen, if you both were uncomfortable because again I value your friendship and you both mean a lot to me-“ You ramble on until Alastor puts his hand over your mouth, stopping your words, your cheeks blazing at the proximity.

“If I wasn’t comfortable, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Alastor asks, finally sitting on the floor with both you and Lucifer, Alastor kneeling in front of you and bending down a bit.

“Are you comfortable with this idea though?” Lucifer asked, his hand trailing to yours. “You’ve spoke about our comfort-which I am okay with all of this, surprisingly…” Lucifer says eyeing Alastor. “But are you okay with this? All three of us being together?”

“Well, I mean, it’s kind of sudden, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t like you both. Quite honestly it left me desperately hopeless because I couldn’t just choose either of you. That’s been going on for like at least six months though.” Both pairs of eyes widen looking at you. “But what about this?” You ask motioning between them. “I have to be honest when this is probably the most surprising revelation of the whole evening.”

“You know what they say, hate makes the heart grow fond.” Alastor smiles sarcastically at Lucifer.

“That’s not-never mind…” Lucifer looks at you. “We realized about a month ago that we respected eachother more than what we had let on, and in that conversation we both revealed to each other that we cared for you.. amongst other things.” Lucifer explained, looking at Alastor, a red tinge on his cheeks and started getting up, you looked at him confused, but he offered both you and Alastor a hand. Both you and Alastor grabbed Lucifer’s hands and got up, as Lucifer continued talking. “Whiskey does wonders on getting people to talk. So, we then wanted to know if there was an opportunity that you reciprocated feelings for at least one of us.”

“Color us surprised when we realized you did, but for both of us.” Alastor added on as he followed the King of Hell to the bed.

“How did you know though?” You ask genuinely curious as you hopped on the bed, looking at both of them. “I tried to not show anything at all.”

“A certain spider spilled.” Alastor grinned.

“Angel.” You looked unimpressed.

“We then realized that we had a unique opportunity.” Alastor explained.

“So, we decided that if we didn’t have to make you choose and could-“ Lucifer started.

“Both court you, then it was the most ideal outcome. Especially considering if this became public…” Alastor trailed off, his grin becoming strained.

“If this became public you would be target number one for a lot of people who wish to harm me or Alastor. Heaven and the Vees included. And Charlie is currently one of those targets as well.” Lucifer expanded on the point already made. “So what better than to have two of the arguably most powerful men at your service?” Lucifer exclaimed at the end. Alastor eyed his theatrics and rolled his eyes.

“Well, I mean that’s hot.” You say unthinkingly and then feel your face turn warm as you look up at both Alastor and Lucifer who are wide eyed. “I mean- uh…” You clear your throat. “That’s very very logical.”

Alastor laughs and leans over, invading your personal space. “If you think that’s… as you said, hot, we can show you something more.” His grin widens, mischievous. You hear a groan across from you and see Lucifer, blushing.

“That was hot.” He says and you can’t help but laugh. Which turns into a yawn.

“Come, let us sleep, we can talk more about this in the morning.” Alastor explains drawing you up to the pillows and laying on your right side.

“Hey! I normally lay on the right side of the bed!” Lucifer exclaims. “You KNOW that.” He looks actually upset as Alastor just switches the pillows.

“Right as rain then?” Alastor says sweetly, looking at Lucifer. You feel Alastor’s arm gently being placed on your waist. “Is this all right darling?” You nod and look at Lucifer. You open your arms for him and he smiles, cuddling up and facing you.

“Can we sleep like this every night?” You ask, half asleep, but feeling so comfortable.

“Of course dear.” Alastor murmurs.

“Every single night.” Lucifer confirms. You feel Lucifer’s hand reach around you and feel it move like he was petting something. You understood quickly as Alastor growled. He had pet Alastor.

“Don’t pet me, you under grown circus clown.” Alastor threatens as he stiffens against you, feeling and hearing Lucifer chuckling.

“Both of you behave.” You murmur, close to the sweet embrace of sleep, still half wondering how everything fit together so quickly, but you had once heard that when it’s right everything just comes together perfectly.

[sorbetisfruity]

Imagine you and some of the TWST guys are preparing for a little party. Whether it be a tea party, or maybe an unbirthday party, idk but THERES A PARTY GOING ON OKAY?

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Obviously Ace and Deuce are there, and so is Grim and Jack and Epel. They practically follow you everywhere so of course they’d help you set up!! Even if they really don’t wanna.

Riddle, Leona, and Vil are there too. Leona doesn’t really wanna be there, but he can’t let his poor weak herbivore do it all on their own, can he?

No, he can’t. He likes you too much to leave you alone because he knows only like, 3 people are gonna help you out.

Riddle is there to make sure no one breaks any rules and behaves accordingly and Vil is there to make sure everything is absolutely perfect. It’s a big party after all, and anything other than perfect could ruin his reputation!!! And we wouldn’t want that, would we??:(

You’re setting the table, trying to make everything as perfectly set as possible. Yet no matter how straight and how perfect you put down those plates and silverware, Vil is correcting it and criticizing you.

“Is it really that hard to set the table correctly Prefect? I know not having magic shouldn’t effect your ability to set a table..” he’d complain, fixing yet another fork you apparently laid down incorrectly.

And you’d stay quiet, getting more and more upset by the minute as you continued setting the table.

And everyone could tell you were getting fed up, but decided to stay quiet for their own good, because they know how Vil is.

“Prefect, at this point it might be better for me to set this table. You’re doing it all wrong. It looks absolutely hideous.” He complained again, making you look up from the fork he asked you to adjust.

“Vil, it looks fine. Can’t you go bother somebody else? I know how to set a table.” You finally talked back, making everyone look up and turn to you two.

“It doesn’t look fine. It looks horrendous. Just like your skin. Have you been doing that skincare routine I showed you?” He fussed, reaching out to touch your face, “and besides, the table only looks a little bit better because I fixed it. Like I said, it doesn’t take magic to set a table, now does it? You should be able to do this with no issues, right?”

You backed away from him, huffing as you did so. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been too busy planning this party and with school and with you guys. I don’t have time for that stuff right now.”

Leona then interrupts, getting in between you two.

“Leave the herbivore alone, table looks fine,” he mumbled with a yawn, “if it looks so awful, maybe you should do it yourself.” He leaned against you, closing his eyes as he spoke.

You sent Leona a thankful smile, looking at Vil as he glared sharply at the both of you.

“Are you being serious? Leona, look at it. It’s a mess. Great Seven, you can’t even set a table correctly. What are you good for, anyways? You’re magicless, you lack strength in general, you can’t even take care of yourself, and your grades are slipping!”

“You’re awful. I will never, never understand why the Black Mirror brought you here.”

The room went silent. The dishes in your hand went clattering to the floor, some shattering on impact.

You knew he can be an asshole, but fuck man.

That hurt.

That hurt a lot.

“You know what, Vil? Fuck you. I’m fucking trying, okay? But it’s hard to focus on things when I’m tackling one overblot and problem after another. I know you’re stressed out and shit, but you don’t need to take it out on me.” You took a deep breath, glaring at him as you teared up.

“I’m so fucking done.”

Before you knew it, your eyes were filled with tears and you were running out the door, hearing your friends shout for you as you ran.

God you wanna go home..

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Oh how I love angst!!

I really wanna make a part 2!! Would you guys like that? Lemme knowwwww!!

If I do make a part two, we’ll see Neige and get a lil more info about Vil and why he said what he said🤞🤞

[butchpeace]

it is so insane to say that doctors shouldn’t practice gender reassignment surgeries, or that hrt shouldn’t be accessible, and not for transgender activism reasons either (though ignoring the enormous number of people that are happy with their transition is just willful ignorance). where do you draw the line on what adults can do with their bodies? do you ban all plastic surgeries? do you ban all the surgeries that require removing “healthy” body parts? Do you have any idea the amount of autonomy that strips cis women of? What about breast reductions? Oh, they can be removed because the woman’s back hurt? What is the level of hurt required, how do you decide which women’s backs are hurting enough and which aren’t? What about cis women who desire hysterectomies for a variety of reasons? how is removing my breast different from say, getting breast implants. do we ban breast implants, and then where do you draw the line? it’s such a non-nuanced way to see things.

“all plastic surgeries should be banned!” what if somebody gets into a car accident and doctors have to reconstruct their face. Probably they can live without it, but are you saying they should? What if somebody breaks a nose, should the doctor do the absolute bare minimum to fix it instead of trying to give it the aspect it had before? What if a woman requires a mastectomy for medical reasons, and lately wants breast implants, should it be illegal for her to get those? besides, what is the level of illness required to perform a surgery that is outlawed? Do you think having to fight the law as well during something like breast cancer or similar would be of benefit to women? worth it if it means transgender people can’t get it either?

and don’t even get me started on hrt, because if you can’t prescribe those meds for a certain mental condition, what is the difference with any other medicine, especially psychomeds? That it has collateral effects? Guess what? Most of them do! That it shows on the body? What is the actual difference, that you can make a law out of, without any overlapping, between something working on your hormones to show a change in your physical appearance and something working on your hormones to show a change in your brain activity? What if a med that’s needed to cure whatever illness has certain effects on the body? I swear you people do not think.

I’ve thought about all of these things, over the 12 years I spent in the trans community and the 10 years I spent on hormones. I still came to the conclusion I did. Actually, going through it myself is what brought me to this belief and cemented my opinion.

HRT and gender surgeries are different from necessary medical treatments and procedures because they aren’t medically necessary. They are medically harmful across the board in every case, to varying degrees. Female bodies are not meant to have high levels of testosterone. It causes health problems. Same for males.

So in order to defend using HRT, they have to prove that the benefit outweighs the harm. How do they attempt to do that? By claiming that everyone will commit if they can’t transition.

And what basis do they have for that belief? Nothing scientific. The only way they could get that data is through a study that gives half the participants HRT and doesn’t give it to the other half, and compares how many people commit.

So right now, they’re just going on the assumption that transitioning helps our mental health better than any alternative mental healthcare treatment option would be able to. (And better than just leaving us alone.)

This is when most people bring up how trying to treat dysphoria in another way would be “conversion therapy”. Because they apparently aren’t aware that there’s a huge difference between using electric shock to try to change people’s sexuality, and using exploratory talk therapy to help dysphoric people work through the issues that caused them dysphoria in the first place.

Proper mental healthcare, medical education, feminist education, and teaching dysphoric people to connect with their body has the ability to get rid of their dysphoria. It worked for me and many others I’ve talked to who have detransitioned or desisted. And sometimes all it takes is just growing up for us to understand ourselves better and accept our bodies. But of course, that idea threatens the entire foundation of the trans movement, so it can’t be true. Right?

In my mind, it’s fucking dystopian that we have all these kids now who never even got the chance to grow up before having these decisions made for them. Being fed the idea that they’re trans, and the only way for them to be happy is to make drastic medical changes to their body, has a devastating affect on their mental health and leads them to medicalization they otherwise may not have needed.

As for elective procedures, yes I also oppose those. I think any surgeon who gives someone a potentially dangerous procedure, or a procedure with a high regret rate, should lose their license to practice.

It’s not “oppressive” to women to say I don’t agree with them getting cosmetic surgeries or electively getting their important reproductive organs removed. That’s fucking ridiculous, to call that “oppression”. The fact that women think they need these cosmetic surgeries is the real oppression.

Anything with a legitimate medical reason, breast reduction, or simple procedures to prevent pregnancy are exceptions to the rule because they legitimately improve quality of life.

I hope that helped you be able to follow my train of thought about all this, and understand better what I’m saying.

[meidui]

stevetony but the genre is "friends have sex like this, right?"

Picture This by @stovetuna

“What if—” Steve doesn’t clear his throat this time. He swallows. And oh, Tony watches like it’s happening in slow motion, the tensing of tendons, the roll of Steve’s Adam's apple, the way his suprasternal notch collapses and fills as his esophagus works to, what, keep words down? Saliva? A moan? Steve blinks and the glassiness clears. The blush all but vanishes. “Never mind,” he mutters.

And that…that just won’t do.

Tony leans forward ever so slightly over the foot of the bed, further into Steve’s space by a fraction of an inch. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve does. He stares at Tony from up near the headboard, a plaintive expression deep behind his eyes, a problem that Tony can’t help but want to fix.

“Would you like my help, Steve?”

***

Steve gets caught attempting to take his first-ever dick pics. It's a struggle, he explains, because it brings up a whole host of lingering body image issues. Tony, very gallantly and not at all because he is in love with Steve, offers to take the photos for him.

dick drunk by @stovetuna

“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” Steve says, pulling away only a fraction of an inch to say it, a promise as deep and certain as the look in his eyes, “and you’re going to take it. Aren’t you, Tony.”

Tony wants a drink. Steve gives him something else.

Thrust Issues by @sineala

A battle gone wrong leads Tony to the unexpected and pleasant discovery that Steve is much more well-endowed than he could ever have imagined. But when Tony learns that Steve has never actually been able to sleep with anyone because of his size, Tony does what any good friend would do: he offers to relieve Steve of his virginity. Personally. Tony's determined, Tony's methodical, and Tony has a plan. He's going to get Steve laid. Tony just needs to make sure Steve never finds out that Tony's in love with him.

The Least Difficult of Men by @isozyme

It isn’t until Tony watches Steve lean into the punch that he thinks oh, this is going to be a problem.

━━━

Steve’s taking hits on purpose in the field, so Tony suggests a safer option. It's simple: Tony smacks Steve around, Steve gets the pain fix he’s looking for, everyone leaves happy. Things do not stay simple.

The one with repressed masochist Steve and sadist Tony and everyone getting off on pain a whole bunch.

Not a Breakup by @no-gorms

Tony knew it was a bad idea to start sleeping with Steve. It could mess up team dynamics, make things even more awkward between them in the future, or just plain get in the way of their trying to save the world. Tony foresaw all of the above but not the advent of feelings, and at the most inopportune moment.

Hard Knock Life by @kandisheek

Since the serum Steve hasn't been able to make himself come. His stamina is so unbelievably high that he can't find a partner who can keep up with him either. Lucky for him Tony is just stubborn enough to try.

any other way of loving by @brandnewfashion

In which Steve is bad at dating, Tony isn’t, and neither of them are as subtle as they think.

[sharkboywrites]

Heyy!! Are reqs open?

If so then can I request the Octavinelle boys with a constantly tired autistic male reader? Like, very sleepy and falls asleep almost anywhere

Octavinelle With a Sleepy Autistic S/O

A/N: Hii I hope everyone had a happy holiday :) I’m super exited to write this because I have an issue with sleeping too much, to the point where my neurologist banned me from taking naps lol

Male reader, autistic reader, mlm fic

Azul

- Let’s be honest, the first thoughts Azul probably had was “how can I profit from this?”

- This is before the two of you are dating though, as a relationship starts, he’s more worried about it and wants to help you

- He’ll go for a way to try and help you, but also letting you take a nap when you need it

- He’ll encourage you to stay awake if you can, but if you really need to sleep he’ll let you

- He starts to track your schedule to see if there’s anything that may be causing it

- He tracks what you ate, when it gets the worst, how much sleep you got the night before, and other things like that to see if there may be a correlation

- He’ll try to not let you fall asleep in class, but if you do he’s got all the notes you could need free of charade, boyfriend privileges after all

- When it is time for you to sleep he’s got everything you need

- He makes sure you’re going to bed a decent time

- He makes sure that you have your favorite clothes, the prefect temperature, any background noise or stuffed animals if you need it, and of course a water bottle because hydration is important, especially to get a good night’s sleep

- If he can’t be there, then he’ll text you a reminder to go to bed along with an “I love you” because how could he not?

- He tries to find a solution for you, but if he can’t, then he’ll be the most accommodating he can be

Jade

- Jade catches on to your problem quickly, even if you’re not close yet

-He always offered a helping hand if you may need it

- Much like Azul, once the two of you become something more, he takes a more critical take on the situation

- He will also try to see if there’s a root to your problems and if there’s anything that can be done to fix it

- He’ll make sure you’re eating the right amount, even giving you meals or drinks with a little more caffeine to keep you awake (if caffeine works on you)

- It’s never things with too much caffeine though, just something simple that will be able to keep you awake for the time needed

- Jade will let you fall asleep in class, finding a way to subtly cover for you so that you don’t get a lecture from any of the teachers

- When he’s working at the lounge, he’ll offer up his side of the dorm for you to sleep in when he gets back

- When it is time for you to sleep, he’s there to make sure you’re sleeping well and the right amount

- Jade will always have your back when you need it, whether it’s needing to stay awake or falling asleep

Floyd

- When it comes to Floyd, he’s the opposite of Azul and Jade

- The first time he notices you falling asleep, he pokes you and bugs you about falling asleep, not leaving you alone until you tell him why you’re so sleepy

- He doesn’t really try to find a way to stop you from falling asleep, but he is good to be around if you do fall asleep once he knows your situation

- Although you may be a bit of a bad influence on him, as he starts taking your naps as an invitation to also fall asleep

- He already has a bad habit of falling asleep in class, and unlike you, he doesn’t really have a good excuse for it

- He also slacks while working at the lounge to go check on you, as much as Azul complains

- Unlike offering up his side of the dorm like Jade, he’ll let you fall asleep in one of the booths, keeping you hidden from Azul

-He may even sneak you something to eat whether you ask for it or not

- When it comes to the time when you should actually be sleeping, he’s great to be with

- He’ll fall asleep with you, keeping you in his arms just like he knows you like

- He’ll get you anything you may need, you just need to ask for it

- Although he might get a little distracted and bring back some things you don’t need but he thought would be nice to have

- While he doesn’t find a way to fix you’re problem, he’s on top of accommodating you, even if he may fall asleep with you in the process

If anything, this kinda just made me want to take a nap lol, ty for reading and have a nice day :)

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty-Three

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no use of 'y/n')

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: Arguments, threats, attempted blackmail, mentions of sex as terms of an agreement

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

When Jazper said that he had set up a meeting for you, you hadn’t known what to expect. 

It was too soon for the next meeting of the Undercity Innovation Committee, which was the logical choice for a requested meeting. The committee was scheduled to meet every three months, and it had barely been a month since the last one. 

But you thought perhaps someone had been interested in setting up a partnership with the Haven similar to the one you shared with Stocked. Perhaps Cipanni wanted to have one of her apprentices stationed as a full-time mechanic for the Haven or Ronid was looking for more recommendations to fill his soon-opening apartment complex. 

However, the elegant Ionian woman waiting in the meeting room was unfamiliar to you. Jazper had simply directed you to the room with a smile, so you couldn’t ask for any clarification. Instead, you pasted on your best professional smile and stepped inside. 

“Hello,” you offered, adding an introduction when she looked up at you.

“Hello,” she returned, voice pleasantly husky. “My name is Ahri. I work for Councilmember Shoola.”

Your brows arched. “Nice to meet you, Ahri. I can’t imagine what I could have done to rate a visit from a Council staff member.” 

Ahri laughed. It was a genuinely happy sound and you relaxed slightly. “Please, sit. Shoola has become aware of the friction between the Upper Piltover and the Undercity. She sent me to explore options for improving relations between the two halves of the city.” 

“Is there a reason she asked you in particular?” you asked, terrified that the question would come off offensive. 

Thankfully, Ahri didn’t seem offended in the least. “I’m friends with Jazper, of course. His experiment with the Lanes has drawn quite a bit of attention in the upper city, and he has been helping me come up with ideas on fixing this rift.”

You straightened in your chair, hoping she wasn’t close enough to watch your fingers tremble as the enormity of that statement hit you. Piltover was interested in repairing relations with the Undercity? You weren’t fully convinced that it wasn’t a trick of some kind, but if it were true… well, the impacts would be enormous. 

“What- Uh…” You paused, allowing yourself a moment to gather your thoughts before you spoke. “I’m curious about what Jazper has suggested. Have you come up with any options yet?”

“Oh, yes,” Ahri confirmed with a nod. “I believe we’ve found our solution. I already got it approved by Councilmember Shoola, so we’re in the final stages now.” 

“Ah.” It was wonderful to hear that a plan to improve things was already in place, but you had to wonder why you were there. “In that case, what can I do for you? Jazper didn’t tell me much about this meeting before it started.” 

Ahri chuckled. “Jazper has a flair for drama. Let me lay everything out for you: there are many causes of strife between Upper Piltover and the Undercity. I’m sure you are aware of that. There is no one solution that can address the variety of issues between the two halves of the city, and my decision was that no single person can possibly decide how to fix everything.” 

You bit back the irritated expression that was almost certainly trying to bloom on your face. Everyone who looked into the Undercity walked away with an understanding of the enormity of its problems… but they still walked away. If everyone who could help walked away because they were overwhelmed, it wouldn’t help anyone. 

“The Piltover Council has agreed to create a task force,” Ahri continued, cutting your internal ire short. 

“A task force,” you repeated slowly, rolling the words around as if you could test them by the way they fell from your tongue. “To do what?” 

It was a loaded question. Politicians and the people interested in appeasing them often gave vague answers full of buzzwords that were sure to resonate with their intended audiences. People who intended to follow through on what they said they would do, by comparison, would give answers that were far more complex and nuanced. 

“Simply put,” said Ahri, in an already bad start, “the task force will investigate the causes of the problems between Piltover and the Undercity.” 

You nodded, working to keep your smile. “And what will they do with their findings?” 

“Create solutions for individual problems, test how well they work, and adjust as necessary,” she told you. “If a certain solution seems like it would be beneficial on a long-term basis, the Council has pledged to dedicate a sub-committee to continue working on it. They will report their progress to the task force and to the Council, until everyone agrees that there is no benefit in continuing the work further.” 

You took a moment to let that simmer in your mind. Ahri lifted a brow in friendly challenge. “Any other questions?” 

“One.” It was an important one, and you leaned closer intently. “Who will be on the task force?”

“A representative of each Councilmember, each one qualified in some way and vetted by Councilmember Heimerdinger.” Ahri grinned. “I know that's vague. I believe Councilmember Shoola is speaking with an economics professor from the University. Some of the others are searching for urban development specialists and environmental scientists. There should be a good variety.” 

You tried to keep the disappointment from your voice as you summarized, “No one from the Undercity, then.” 

“Strictly speaking, no.” You nodded slowly, but Ahri wasn't finished. “But the whole task force hinges on one person who lives in the Undercity.” 

If she said Silco, you were going to scream. 

“You.” 

The sight of your gaping face couldn't have been an elegant one, and Ahri probably lost any hope of your professionalism, but you couldn't help it. “Me?” 

Ahri laughed. “Yes, you. The Council wanted someone trustworthy, someone who knows the problems of the Undercity without being drawn into the attitude of spiteful independence that has made Upper Piltover reluctant to help in the past. Jazper recommended you quite highly.” 

Tears rose to your eyes and climbed your throat. “That was very kind of him,” you managed. 

“If half of what he says is true, Jazper’s recommendation is well-deserved.” Ahri gave you a sympathetic smile. “I understand that it's an overwhelming request. Like I said earlier, let me give you all of the facts and you can make your decision from there.” 

When you finally left Stonesea, your mind was filled to bursting with all the details of the offer. You would have to move to Piltover proper, since the task force was intended to start working full-time as soon as you arrived. You were going to be part of the task force - not its leader, but the one who would approve the ideas suggested by other members. 

As the only person who had worked in the Undercity, especially extensively, you had a vital vantage point on what would work and what would be a waste of city funds. The whole thing hinged on you: the work you had done with the Haven put you in a unique position. You were an expert on the workings of the Undercity while also considered trustworthy by the Piltover Council. Ahri had danced around it carefully, but if you declined the job, the task force would not happen. 

It had a strong potential to be an empty and placating gesture. There were good odds that Piltover was doing this to give the impression that they cared so they didn't have to spend time working on more realistic solutions.

At the same time, you were hopeful. This was the first time the Undercity had ever had a dedicated representative of any kind in Upper Piltover. It wouldn't fix everything and you were keenly aware of your own shortcomings, but it was an important step. The Undercity would have a voice working closely with the governing officials. 

You had no choice but to accept. 

By the time you arrived at your office, you were dazed. You sat behind your desk, pulled a cheap notepad closer to you and began to scribble. It helped ease the massive tide of thoughts colliding inside of your mind, and a rough to-do list started to take shape under the scrawl of your pen. 

You would need to do the next few months of grant requests. The others were more than capable, but you needed to make sure it was done. You needed to pack, obviously. You would have chances to come visit the Haven every so often, but not regularly enough to store belongings there. 

And, most importantly, you had to name someone to run the Haven while you were gone. You had already decided that it should be Arunn. For all the work he had done on himself and with other people, there was no one you trusted more to keep things going without you. Besides, with all the time Arunn spent by your side, he had a fair idea of how to run the Haven. 

Even so, you started a new list. This one outlined the guides you would need to build to help Arunn through the first few weeks without you. There was a lot that needed to be done and all of it seemed to be in rotation at any given time, but you had also spent your time building a solid team. Every member of the Haven’s staff was good at what they did, and they would help support Arunn until he felt comfortable on his own. 

You smiled a bit as you thought of how Arunn’s journey at the Haven had started and just how far he had come. He was wonderful, a natural caregiver with enough common sense to know when to back away from a situation instead of pursuing it. Yes, Arunn would be a marvelous person to lead the haven, but you had to contain yourself - you hadn’t actually asked him yet. There was a chance he would say no, though you doubted it. 

Every muscle in your body tensed as the door flew open with explosive force. 

You had half-stood from your chair when you saw the cause of it: Silco was standing in your doorway. 

At first, your focus was behind him. It was a terrible risk for Silco to come to the Haven, and you hadn’t planned for a meeting that day. You hadn’t done anything to divert staff members from being on the ground floor or in the area around your office. 

Fortunately, the hallway behind Silco was empty. You stared at him in shock and dismay. “Well?” you hissed. “Close the door!” 

“Is it true?” 

The demand was nonsensical, so you couldn’t blame yourself for staring blankly at Silco. “What are you-” 

“Say it isn’t true!” he barked out, crossing the room in a few rapid strides. “Tell me you are not stupid enough to accept a job on some task force the Piltover Council put together.” 

You fought a wince at the venom in Silco’s voice when he spat out ‘task force’. Carefully avoiding eye contact, you moved around him to close the door. When you turned, he had wheeled in place in front of your desk, watching you with an intense expression. 

No - not simply intense. His face burned with scarcely-controlled rage. You noticed for the first time that his clothes were in disarray. Nothing the average person on the Undercity streets would notice, but you did.

“Silco…” 

“Do not.” The warning sliced through the stillness of your office, cracking like a whip against your ears. “I will not believe you are so foolish as to fall for such a blatant attempt to placate the people of Zaun.” 

“I’m sorry to fall short of your expectations,” you said stiffly. You didn’t particularly enjoy being called stupid, especially twice in such a short span of time. 

Silco’s eyes burned at you, but he glanced away after a moment. You watched him take a deep breath, combing his fingers through his hair until it was swept back and away from his face. He tucked his hands behind his back as he studied a picture on your wall in a faux-casual manner. “You will turn down the offer.” 

You managed to keep from laughing outright. In Silco’s current mood, there were good odds that doing so would lead to violence. Instead, you kept your voice as calm as possible as you replied, “I will not.” 

The thin veneer of calm on Silco’s face disappeared in an instant as he wheeled on you, baring his chipped teeth. He managed to keep from shouting, but you could tell from the tension in the muscles of his neck that it was a close thing. “Do not test me. Not on this.” 

“I thought this over,” you argued. “Examined it from every angle. There are more reasons for me to take the job than to refuse it.” 

“Perhaps you did not think long enough on the other side,” Silco suggested. “Allow me to enumerate several of the many reasons you should not accept the position you have been offered.”

He wasn’t going to change your mind. You knew that and you suspected that he did, as well. Still, letting him explain might help him accept it more easily when you told him that you were going to leave. 

Plus, it might help soothe the twinge of guilt you felt when you realized that your relationship with Silco hadn’t even been a consideration as you were making your choice. You gestured for him to make his case. 

“First,” Silco started, and you already started to regret your choice. He had the air of a professor giving a lecture on something he loved - and he knew his audience was a captive one. “It is an empty gesture. Piltover has no true interest in reconciling the differences between us. There is too much to be gained with things remaining exactly as they are now.” 

You didn’t bother telling him that you had already thought of that. 

“Second, Piltover wants to recognize Zaun as part of itself. As the ‘Undercity’. Even the way they refer to us is as a lesser entity. They repeat time and again that we are lower and meaner, closer to the very dirt Piltover cleans from its streets. By accepting a place on this task force, you are undermining the possibility of a nation of Zaun.”

“That isn’t fair,” you objected. “Just because you hold out hope for a hypothetical future doesn’t mean I can’t work on making things better now.” 

“Hypothetical?” Silco repeated, an odd gleam in his eyes. “Only weeks ago, you were referring to Zaun and speaking of ways to make life better for her inhabitants. This is how we accomplish that.” 

“No, this is how we accomplish that,” you countered, patting your to-do list so he could be certain what you were referring to. “Thank you for sharing your opinions and arguments, but I haven’t heard anything that-” 

“I have not finished,” Silco said, a grim curve to his mouth. “Third, and perhaps the most important, I will not allow you to reside so far away.” 

You scoffed, the noise loud and rough in the quiet of your office. “We never negotiated an end to our agreement, but you don’t have the authority to tell me where I can or cannot live.” 

“Can I not?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“No.” You sighed, glancing down at your list as you thought over everything you had built. All you could do was hope that the community that had formed around the Haven would stand firm, even when things began to change. “Stupid as you think I am, I am not foolish enough to think that you’ll keep Shimmer out of the neighborhood-” 

Silco laughed. It was a sharp, mirthless sound. “Shimmer? Pet, I will do far more than release Shimmer on the streets. If you attempt to leave Zaun, I will ruin your life.” 

It was difficult to smile when your heart was choking you, but you did your best. “Ruin my life? How would you do that? By telling Piltover about the single donation I accepted from you?” 

“No,” he said, withdrawing a thin folder from an inner pocket of his coat. He tossed it carelessly onto your desk. “With this.”

You stared at the folder, framed by the edges of your to-do list.

Despite the haphazard way Silco had tossed it there, it had managed to keep its contents. And, judging from the way the folder’s cover was propped up, there were plenty of contents for it to hold. 

A sense of dread filled you as you continued to eye the folder like it was going to catch fire. Whatever it held, it couldn’t be good. And that wasn’t even taking into account the low threat in Silco’s voice when he said that he would ruin your life with it. 

“What is it?” you asked at last, looking up to meet Silco’s eyes. 

He nodded at the folder. “Insurance.” 

You glared silently. Clearly, Silco had no interest in handling this maturely. It figured - you finally had the chance to help repair things in the Undercity on a large scale and he decided to throw a tantrum. 

With a sense that you were somehow sealing your fate, you lifted the cover of the folder and peered inside. 

Notes. Pages of them, all filled with Silco’s small yet elegant handwriting. The first held an account of the first time he had watched you. Judging from the date, it was nearly a week before he had spoken to you. His account of that first meeting and a notation about you directing Arunn to the Haven filled the rest of the page. 

You leafed through the stack and started to find other evidence of your relationship with Silco. A handwritten receipt for the first check he had given you. Messages you had sent back and forth to communicate meeting times. Photographs of you walking up the staircase that led to his office.

Your hands were shaking. It could have been fear. It could have been rage. You weren’t overly concerned about the cause, because you were busy funneling all of your strength toward keeping a blank expression when you looked back at Silco. 

“Notes and records,” you remarked casually, flipping the cover of the folder closed once more. “None of it is very important.” 

Silco’s scarred upper lip was lifted in a snarl. “Despite how unimportant you deem our history, I believe you will find it matters a great deal to the Piltover Council.” 

You gave him a skeptical look, hoping that he couldn’t see the way your pulse was pounding in your throat. “Does it look great? No, definitely not. They might have reason to doubt my morals. But none of your ‘insurance’ is incriminating.”

“Is it not?” he asked in that lofty way that made you want to hit him. “Of all the evidence there, you believe there is nothing that would make the Council reconsider this plan? Their task force, which hinges entirely upon your moral character for justification? Because I disagree.”

“You said you would never use our relationship as blackmail material,” you protested. It sounded weak and childish even to your own ears, but it was the only argument you could think of that had a chance of swaying his opinion. “You promised me that before we started any of this.” 

“And I have not broken that promise,” Silco insisted. “I will not use our physical relationship - I do not need to. I have plenty from our business interactions. The money, the deals, the meetings. Innocent enough on their face, but given the skepticism Piltover holds for the nation of Zaun…”

Interrupting him was unwise, but not nearly as unwise as what you said when you did. 

“There is no nation of Zaun,” you snapped, relishing the way his eyes widened in astonishment. “That is nothing more than the pipe dream of a failed revolution. The people live in the Undercity of Piltover. Their lives are miserable because of people like you, who would rather burn down both halves of the city than allow it to join back together.”

Silco’s expression had gone flat, unreadable. You continued ranting, your words providing the only release to the stress of the situation. “If you are not the one helping people, you won’t let them be helped at all. You think of yourself as a benevolent ruler, but you’re nothing more than a power-hungry gangster obsessed with his own perceived power.”

Your office went deathly quiet. The only sound was your own quickened breaths as you glowered at Silco. He stared stonily back. 

“You are correct about one thing,” Silco admitted lowly. “I would rather burn this city down than allow it to be subjugated by Piltover again. And if I would burn my beloved Zaun, do you truly believe I would not use every weapon in my arsenal to keep you from speeding that subjugation? You will refuse the position on this task force, or I will release this information to the Piltover Council.”

He wasn’t smug. You had half-expected that he would be, but Silco seemed deadly serious. Two paths yawned in front of you with no room to continue as things had been. 

On one side, you could accept Silco’s terms. At the surface level, nothing would have changed. You would continue with your deal, continue working to help the Haven’s patients, and live with your knowledge of what could have been. But something would have shifted between you and Silco. He would know that he held power over you that was far greater than the power you held over him. Things would change, and they would stay changed forever. 

On the other path, you would simply… not. Not allow Silco to dictate your future. Not allow him to control the future of the entire Undercity. That would change everything from the surface all the way down to the bedrock. Your entire working relationship with him would be destroyed in one day, with one single decision. 

“No.” 

The very shadows around Silco seemed to deepen. “Do you doubt my intentions?” 

You wanted to laugh, but you were worried you would start to cry. Instead, you shook your head. “Your intentions have never been in question, Silco. You can give your information to the Council. They will probably cancel the task force and you will have gotten exactly what you wanted. But I have to try to help these people.” 

“You are helping no one but yourself by leaving,” Silco accused. “You care only for your own prestige. No outsider has ever truly cared for the people of Zaun. I dared to hope that you were different.” 

The accusation was a slap in the face. Unfortunately for Silco, you were entirely numb by that point in the conversation. You continued as if he had not spoken at all. “And in the likely event that I stay in the Undercity, our deal is over. You broke the terms of our agreement.”

“I did not such thing,” Silco spat. “These are business dealings-” 

“And you expect me to believe you don’t have a personal file on me?” you demanded, giving a harsh laugh when he didn’t immediately answer. “Exactly. By keeping these records, you confirmed that you planned something like this from the beginning. Our deal is done.” 

Silco loomed over you, mismatched eyes blazing.

You met them without fear as you held the office door open for him. “Get the hell out of The Haven.”

---

Author's Note - So, friends, how are we feeling? Sorry for the angst and I'm even sorrier that there's more to come. We're moving toward the end of this fic. Not super quickly, but we'll probably have things wrapped up in about ten more chapters. (I'm wordy, my bad.)

Anyway, for any of you who were just here for the spicy stuff, there's not going to be very much of that from here on out. A few scenes here or there, sure. And after I'm done wrapping things up, maybe I'll give in to the requests and write a chapter or two from Silco's POV. But if you want to dip out, now is probably a good time for it. (Thank you for reading this far!)

For those of you who intend to see this fic out, I'll see you next month! Feel free to send any questions in asks, DMs, or through the ever-beloved comments section. Thanks for reading!

[messedupfan]

Chapter 16

Summary: After finding out about your possible attendance at Tommy and Billy's big day, Vision decides to pay you a visit.

A/n: Hello! This one is short haha Also did any of y'all get to see the eclipse? Crazy!! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

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You and Pietro are staring at the blueprints for the building that the company has been working on. There was a measurement off on an area which has made the work halt until someone can figure out what went wrong. The two of you are trying to decipher where the issue is and what the best solution would be when Vision storms onto the job site. 

“Vision, you're not allowed to be here. You're an unauthorized civilian in a construction zone,” Pietro says as he steps around the table to prevent his former brother-in-law from moving further into the unpredictable space. 

“I'm here to speak with Y/n. I'm not leaving until I do,” he states and you aren't sure what he could possibly want with you. 

“We are trying to work,” Pietro glares at Vision. “Actual life threatening work, not standing pretty in a room full of hungover college students.” 

Vision looks at Pietro for a moment then looks back at you. “Do you have a minute?” 

Pietro is about to say something when you decide to cut in. “Just this once, Vision,” you grab a spare hard hat and plop it on his head. “Regulations, I’m sure you’ve taught your students about them.” You pat him on the back before guiding him out of the construction zone. He takes the hard hat off and roughly returns it to you as he fixes his hair. “What is so important, Vision? I’m needed inside.”

“I want you to stay away from the tournament,” he states. 

You lick your lips in thought and look past him to the job site. The concrete mixing machine is spinning and you fantasize for a moment about pushing Vision into a space and burying him in the concrete. You shake the thought away and look back at Vision. “Why would I do that? Tommy and Billy invited me.” 

“That doesn’t matter, I’m uninviting you. They are my boys and if anyone is going to be there to support them, it’s going to be me!” Vision says as he tries to intimidate you. His reasoning for keeping you away confuses you. Why does he really not want you there?

“Vision, no one is saying you can’t be there. Why are you making this a ‘it’s me or you’ thing? This isn’t about either of us, it’s about your sons. I have been helping them practice and they want to show me that our hard work has paid off. Why is that such a bad thing?” You ask, instead of agreeing to stay away. You knew that he was going to make this into a thing, but you don’t understand why it has to be. It’s not like you are dating Wanda or trying to replace him as his kids parent. You don’t understand why he has such a problem with you. 

“I know that you have been helping them. You know how I know? Because they don’t stop talking about it. I have friends and colleagues that have children in their class. What kind of father will people think I am if Tommy and Billy give you all of the credit? I don’t want them to run to you when they win. They will be running to me because you won’t be there. Understood? You are to stay away,” he says bitterly and now you understand what’s happening. He doesn’t want his image of being an involved father to be affected. It upsets you that he could easily earn that credit and praise by spending time with his kids. But he relies on everyone else doing the heavy lifting and keeping their mouths shut. You find it ridiculous. “The tournament is happening on my weekend. So I have to be there. They aren’t your kids, you can make up some excuse and not show up. Or else,” he threatens. 

“Do you have something to support your ‘or else’ or were you hoping that was enough for me to agree to cancel?” You ask, bored of this conversation. 

“Just, leave my kids alone. Okay?” Vision walks away and you sigh. You knew when you accepted the twins invitation two weeks ago, you were going to upset Vision. You didn’t realize that you were making him feel insecure as a parent. You return to work to try and push the encounter out of your mind. 

The issue turned out to be a simple adjustment. Everyone cheered because it could have been much worse. It could have taken weeks to fix. There could have been a fatal accident. It could have cost materials that would have taken weeks to replace. It could have been missed until inspection and that would have had the building demolished. The list of scenarios could go on and on. You and Pietro are more than happy about the results of an easy fix. 

You forget all about Vision's visit until during your lunch break when Pietro asks what the man wanted. “For me to stay away from Tommy and Billy’s tournament,” you shrugged. It was something you were expecting but you didn't think he would cause a scene at your place of work. 

Pietro nods and takes a bite of his food as he looks at the other crew members around the two of you. “Did he say why he doesn't want you there?” 

“Kind of? The gist of it was he's an absent father and he doesn't want the rest of the world to know that,” you shake your head and laugh a little as you think back on the conversation. “I tried to threaten me but there's nothing he can do. I'm still going.” 

Pietro makes a face, “Threaten you? How so?” 

“Well, he just said,” you clear your throat as you get ready to imitate the British man. “Stay away or else!” You roll your eyes. “It's ridiculous, he didn't have anything to say when I asked him what he would do. Because he can't do anything to me.”

“Maybe not to you, but he could do something to my sister. Or worse, he could pull the boys out of that class or make sure they don't show up to the event. I don't know.” Pietro pushes his food around his plate. “All I'm saying is that he can't do anything to you but he can do something to them. So maybe, don't go.” 

You frown as you consider Pietro's advice. He was right. Vision might not be able to touch you but he can hurt Wanda and her kids. 

Later that night, when you're picking up Rachel from Wanda's house, you feel terrible as you think of the ways Vision can hurt them and the only thing that you can do is comply and hurt them in a different way. “What's on your mind? You've been more quiet than usual,” Wanda asks as she hands you a clean plate to dry. 

“I um,” you aren't sure if you should tell her about the encounter earlier. But I'd you're considering canceling on her boys, you can't lie to her. “Vision came to see me today. He doesn't want me there to support the boys next Saturday.” 

“What?” Wanda stops scrubbing the pan she was cleaning. “Are fucking kidding me?” She scoffs as she shakes her head. She figured that Vision would come to her when he found out about you attending the event. She can't believe he dislikes you so much. She truly doesn't understand it. “What did you tell him?” 

“What I told him and what I’m considering are conflicting,” you truthfully tell her. “I don’t want Vision to do something to the boys or even become a bigger headache for you.” 

Wanda nods, she knew that whatever Vision threw at her, she could handle it. However, she agreed that the boys shouldn’t get affected by their father's tantrums. She takes a deep breath. “What are we going to tell them?” 

You are a little touched when she includes herself in this conflict. That this isn't something you have to deal with on your own. “I haven’t figured that part out yet. I wasn't sure if I should fight him or not.” 

“I know how much the boys would love to have you there but,” she sighs as she hands you the last dish. “Vision can't hurt either of us and he knows that. I don't want to believe that he would do something to hurt his kids but, let's face it. His priorities aren't exactly where they should be.” You dry the plate and set it aside as you nod. “So, we're just going to have to tell them that something came up and that you won't be able to attend. But we'll wait until the end of the week to tell them. Make it seem more urgent.” 

You nod with a deep frown. It hurts that you had to cancel on the boys. They've been so excited during the practices that you've done with them since that first night. You don't want to disappoint them but it's better that it's you and not Vision. 

On the day that you do have to break the news, Tommy called you a stupid head and said that he didn't want you there in the first place before he stormed up to his room. Billy just cried. Rachel asks you a million questions on the way home. It makes you feel terrible. Nothing could have prepared you for the heartache you felt when you said that you couldn't be there for them. 

In the middle of the week, Vision had a basket sent to your apartment with a thank you note. You tossed it in the trash. You couldn't believe that you let him win. All you could do was hope that they'd forgive you or at least forget about the let down. 

You tried to forget about it the rest of the week. On Friday, your friends want to go out so you join them. You don't drink as much as you have in the past when hanging out with them but you, Bucky, Steve, and Darcy end up staying out until close to three in the morning. The four of you had a lot of fun. The night started out at a simple bar with a few drinks then it led to one of those modern arcades with a bar. At a certain point, you noticed that  Steve and Bucky had gone missing. Darcy claimed that it happens every time she hangs out with them so you didn't question the disappearance. And when they reappeared, you were having too much fun to realize that they had switched shirts. 

Everyone ended up crashing at your place instead of going to their homes. You chose to sleep in Rachel's room to give Darcy your bed while Steve and Bucky crashed in the living room. You plugged your phone in and slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

In the next afternoon Darcy is shoving you awake. “Answer your damn phone! Some of us weren't made to sleep through natural disaster!” She grouchs as she continues to shake you. 

Groggy and discombobulated you squinted through your eyes as the bright sun shone through the blinds. You stretch and yawn as your phone starts ringing again. It's louder than you remember it ever being. You quickly answer the call before checking who it is. “Hello?” 

“Y/n, thank goodness!” Wanda says urgently. You spring up in bed, alarmed by her tone.

“What happened? What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it the boys?” You say as you get out of bed. 

“Woah, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I mean, it's an emergency but it's not a life threatening one,” she says, a little calmer this time. 

Your body relaxes instantly. “Sorry, I'm just waking up. I had um quite a night. Anyway… What's the emergency?” Darcy shouts that you're being too loud so you step out onto the balcony. 

“Hold on, are you with someone?” Wanda asks instead.

“No, that's just Darcy,” you say. “She spent the night because we were out late. Bucky and Steve are here as well. But ignore all of that, why are you calling?” You check the time and frown. “Shouldn't you be cheering the boys on soon?” 

“Vision dropped the boys off and disappeared,” she says. “I can't get a hold of him. Every time I call it goes straight to voicemail. I asked Tommy and Billy what he said when he dropped them off but their answer wasn't helpful. They're devastated,” she continues and it seems like she's going to say more but instead she says. “Sorry, I don't know why I called I-” 

“I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can,” you interrupt before she says that she shouldn't have called you. It makes you happy that she called you for this. “I've got to get ready, I'll see you in a bit. Bye,” you hang up the phone before she can protest. 

You quickly inform Darcy that you have to leave and why. She stops you from grabbing your keys. “Not so fast boo boo the fool. You smell like sweat and booze. Shower first, I'll put together some clean clothes and then you can go play superhero.” You don't think you have time but you do have an odor and you don't look very presentable. In fact, you'd hope that they'd refuse entry to someone in your state. 

You quickly rinse off the previous night and throw on the clothes that Darcy laid out for you. Steve and Bucky are sitting at the kitchen table and Darcy is making them coffee as you pass them. “Darcy, you have my spare right? Please lock up before you leave.” 

“What? Why does Darcy have a spare and I don't?” Steve asks, offended. “We've been friends longer.” 

Darcy taps his head, “Hush, they’re on a mission.” She looks up at you with an innocent smile as Steve scratches his head. “Don't worry, I'll be sure to lock up. Now go, go!” 

You thank her before racing out of the building. When you arrive, you find Wanda consoling her boys with their Sensei. Someone steps out of the gym and when the door opens you can hear that the event has already started. You jog over to Wanda. “Hey, I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic was just,” you don't get to finish your excuse because Billy crashes against you and greets you with a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him. “Hey buddy, it's alright,” you say gently as you carefully pry him off of you. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in there kicking butt?” You ask as you level with him. 

Billy wipes his tears, “I couldn't because I was sad.” 

You frown, “Sad? Why were you sad?” You move some of his hair out of his face and pull a bandana out of your pocket to help wipe his tears out of his prescription goggles. 

“Because my daddy didn't want to be here and neither did you,” he admits and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. 

You shake your head. “That’s not,” you sigh and look behind him to Wanda standing beside Tommy, he is giving you his best death glare that reminds you a lot of Vision. “I’m sorry that I made you think that, Billy. I thought that there was something more important but I was wrong. Nothing is more important than seeing you and your brother compete today.”

“Really?” Billy squeaks as his eyes start to brighten up a bit. You can see so much of Wanda in him. You grin as you nod. 

“Billy, sometimes we are given two choices and I don't always pick the right one. But you are smarter than me. So I'm going to give you,” you point to his chest as you speak, “two choices. Number one, you can quit now and we can all go home. We might watch a movie but there will be nothing to show for it. Or number two, you can show everyone in that room what your Sensei has taught you and what we have worked on together. You and your brother could win trophies and get new belts and then we can go out to celebrate. Which one do you think you should pick?” You try to make one option seem a little more appealing than the other to try and get him inside. 

Billy looks at you then to his mom, then to his instructor, and lastly, he looks to his brother. “Do you want to?” Tommy had his arms crossed over his chest with an angry frown and a deep scowl. You could tell that between the two, he was the one that refused to perform. His way of having control over the situation. Something that he was learning from his father. If you don't give him what he wants, he tries to take something away. In this case, he's not getting his father's approval so he's making it so that they don't participate. It hurts Vision’s image, which isn't something that Tommy knows much about. He can't stop playing his father's words over and over in his head, don't embarrass me. 

Tommy steps forward, “If we go in there, are you going to stay?” 

“I'm going to stay,” you promise. His features soften and he grabs his brother's hand and takes him over to their Sensei. The three walk through the double doors and run to their corner. Wanda walks over and gives you a tight hug, much like Billy had. 

“Thank you so much,” she says into your chest. 

“Wanda, as much as I love being in your arms, you're holding me back from keeping my promise,” you say as you give her a quick squeeze in return. 

“Just a second longer,” she says before she finally releases you. “You are incredible,” she says as she leads you inside. A volunteer stops you from walking further. 

“Do you have a ticket?” She asks with a bright smile. You quickly pull your wallet out of your pocket. 

“No, I don't actually,” you say but Wanda stops you. 

“Nonsense, after what you did for my kids, I've got you covered,” Wanda hands the woman her debit card despite your protests.

“Okay, you two are good to go,” she says then she pulls out a clipboard with a sheet of names and contact information. “I'm also supposed to ask if you would like to sign this petition to get more funding for programs like these. Is that something that you would be interested in?” The woman is a little more flirtatious in her approach and you are thrown off. You size her up as she is clearly eyeing you and you smile at her politely. She bites her lip as she leans a little forward to expose a bit of cleavage. 

“Sure, I love to support a good cause,” you say as you take the clipboard and pen to write down your name and phone number. She asks you a couple of more questions before you and Wanda are able to walk away. 

“That girl wants a date with you,” Wanda mutters once the two of you are sitting in the stands. “I’m assuming one without any clothes.” You shake your head with a laugh.

“Please, it was just a tactic to get my signature,” you say as you lean in close so she can hear you. 

“Oh. So I should judge you because it worked on you?” Wanda asks in a playful tone but there is a layer of truth. 

“No, I just thought the cause was worth supporting. What you should be concerned about right now is that Billy is up next,” you say as you point to the floor where Billy is stepping onto the mat. Wanda reaches for your hand and holds it in a tight grip. You don’t pull away, more than happy to give her some sort of comfort. You felt just as nervous watching Billy out there. You record as much of the match as possible. Something for Wanda to send to Vision or people in her family that couldn’t be there. 

In the middle of the tournament, your stomach starts to growl and ache painfully. You excuse yourself to buy some snacks at the concession stand. Because neither of her boys are on the mat, Wanda watches you from her seat. On your way back to the stands, the woman stops you for what looks like a quick chat. She cleanches her jaw when the woman touches your arm as she laughs at something you said. She tries to ignore the pang of jealousy she feels as you continue to talk to the woman. You come back to her side when Tommy stands up to enter the mat. When you return, Wanda pulls you close to her and her eyes search for the red haired woman. As soon as she makes eye contact with her, Wanda wraps her arm around your waist and steals some of your popcorn. You laugh because you notice her odd behavior but you don’t question it. Not as much as Wanda is. 

When the event is over, Tommy and Billy run to you to show off their awards. You give them high fives and tell them how proud you are. Wanda gives them hugs as she tells them the same. Then they take your hand and race you over to their friends. She puts their prizes in her tote bag as she gets ready to leave. Tommy and Billy have other plans. They have you show each of them how to do the moves you managed to teach them in the past few weeks. Wanda stands back and watches with a wide smile. She snaps a few pictures as she watches but she doesn’t want to view the moment from her phone screen.

“Excuse me,” the volunteer from earlier says quietly to Wanda. “Hi, my name is Nebula and I just wanted to apologize for flirting with your partner earlier. I consider myself to be a girls girl and I didn’t realize that you two were together,” she rambles and Wanda holds her hands up to stop the girl. 

“Slow down, we’re just friends,” Wanda corrects her. The words feel wrong coming out of her mouth but she couldn’t stop them. It was like an automatic response every time someone implied that you and her are a couple. 

“Oh,” Nebula fails to stop the smile from growing on her face. “Is Y/n seeing someone?” She turns to watch you playing with the kids. 

“No. No, they are single,” Wanda knew this girl was being friendlier to you than just getting another signature for a petition. She didn’t want to be the one giving Nebula this information. But no matter what she was feeling, she wasn’t going to sabotage you. 

Nebula nods as she continues to watch you. “Do you think they will be creeped out if I use their information from the petition to contact them?”

Wanda watches the girl for a moment and thinks about telling her to back off. That if anyone should be asking you out, it should be her. But was Wanda ready for a relationship beyond physical pleasures? She doesn’t know. And because she doesn’t know, she wasn’t going to gatekeep you. Just in case she isn’t ready for a long time. “I think maybe that’s exactly how you should do that. I’ll get to win a bet if you do,” Wanda says jokingly. 

Nebula nods and nudges Wanda with her shoulder, “I’ve got you. Make it a good bet.” She winks, “Thank you. I hope to see you around soon.” 

“I’ll give the toast at the wedding,” Wanda jokes again and Nebula walks away laughing. 

“Oh, would you look at that, I think she had her eyes on you this whole time,” you say as you walk up to Wanda with both boys wrapped around and hanging onto each of your legs. Wanda shakes her head. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She steps closer to you and puts her hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get these two some ice cream,” she says loudly and the boys let go of your legs to jump up and down as they cheer. She messes with their hair and tells them to go wait by her car. They start to shove each other on their way out of the building as they race each other. 

“Still no word from Vision?” You ask as you scrape the sides of your cup to get every last bit of chocolate ice cream out of the cup. Wanda checks her phone and continues to shake her head to see the lack of responses from Vision. She eats her ice cream and gets some of it on her nose. You wipe it off with your thumb and smile. “Mmm, maybe I should have gotten that flavor instead,” you say as you lick the ice cream off of your thumb. She smiles back at you.

Tommy and Billy are running around the playground while you and Wanda sit on a bench and watch them play. “I don't know if I should take them home with me or drop them off at Vision’s house. I don't know how Vision will react because I'm not even sure why he didn't show up.” 

Your smile drops and you look away from her as you shake your head. “I can't believe after the tantrum he threw that he wasn't there for them. He sent me a thank you basket. Which, I don't want to know how he got my address to begin with-” 

“He is unbelievable and I am going to be tied to that man for the rest of my life,” she shakes her head again. 

“They're pretty great reasons to be tied to him though,” you compliment the boys, making Wanda smile as she watches them chase each other around. 

“They are,” she says and then she looks at you. “Will you join us for dinner? I'm thinking that we should go somewhere nice.” 

You look at her and when your eyes meet, you want to kiss her. The only thing keeping you from doing that is the fact that her kids could witness it and ask questions that you're not prepared to answer. “Um, yeah, I’d love to. As long as we split the bill.” 

Wanda considers insisting on paying for everything but that's not what will catch your interest. It's not a collection of times she has done something for you and you have done things for her. Leaving an imbalance of power between the two of you always. No, you are someone that seeks equal partnership. “Fine by me,” she says. 

Your phone goes off and Wanda's heart jumps in her throat from the anticipation. She hoped that the Nebula girl hadn't decided to reach out so soon. “It's a grocery list from Darcy,” you say as another message comes through. “And she and the guys have finally vacated the premise,” you laugh as you respond to the messages. She didn't realize she was holding in her breath until you spoke. Wanda relaxes as she continues eating her ice cream. 

“They’ve been at your apartment this entire time?” Wanda asks with a light laugh of her own. 

“Apparently, and now I'm all out of food,” you shake your head.

During dinner, Wanda has to excuse herself to take a call from Vision. You distract the boys by being silly to make them laugh, then you ask each of them to tell you about their week since you haven't seen them since last Friday. They go on and on about assignments that they enjoyed or hated. Like how Tommy is bummed about a book report but that Billy is ecstatic about it. He’s already read every book on the list, which he conveniently avoided telling the teacher. In gym class, there is a push up challenge that Billy isn’t thrilled about at all but Tommy is more than ready for. They talk about some playground drama where you find out that your daughter has been married and divorced three times throughout the week. You laugh when you find out that she's currently married to a girl named Kate in their class. 

You fondly remember your days in primary school when you were officiating weddings for Jean. She married half the class by the end of the school year. But she never married you back then. She told you that one day she would and then she kissed you on your tear stained cheeks. 

When Wanda returns she looks frustrated and you feel for her in her situation. “That was your dad,” she starts as she sits down. “He will be by the house tomorrow with your school bags but you're staying with me tonight.” She can't look at her boys as she stabs her food with her fork. She was still very worked up over the conversation. Billy puts his hand on her arm and she nearly breaks. 

“Wanda, do you want to know a trick I use to make water taste really good?” You ask her as you hold your glass up. She looks at you with a fragile expression before she takes your cue. She grabs her cup and you show her the trick you've learned over the years of how to drink something in order to avoid crying. It seems to work and she compliments that the water does taste better. The boys don't believe it so they try it and their brains trick them into believing the technique did anything to change the flavor. 

“Thank you,” Wanda mouths when she has calmed down. You shrug in response as the meal continues on. 

After dinner, you follow Wanda to her house with Tommy in your car and Billy in hers. He wanted to make sure that you came to their house to play video games and because you wanted to earn their trust, you agreed to drive with Tommy in the car. Wanda thought it was sweet that you cared this much about her boys. 

The four of you play three different multiplayer games together. Some rounds were kids versus adults and others you and Wanda would team up with one of the twins. The games went on until nine at night and that's when the kids wanted to watch a movie. You and Wanda sat at opposite ends of the couch with both boys sitting in the middle. When they both went quiet Wanda recruited you to help her take them to their beds. 

Once the two were settled in their beds you helped Wanda with cleaning up the mess in the living room by taking care of the cups while she reset the gaming setup. Putting controllers to charge and setting game cases on the game shelf in the cabinet. When all is said and done Wanda walks you to your car. 

“Thank you for today,” she says as she stands close to you with her hands in her back pockets. “You'll have to let me know if that girl messages you. I have a lot riding on that bet,” she jokes but her eyes look at both of yours and then land on your mouth. You've heard about this tactic, it's a signal to let you know she wants to kiss you. Suddenly you feel a little nervous. Any kiss the two of you shared could be dismissed with being under the influence or having heightened emotions. But right now, there wouldn't be any excuse. There would just be. 

It was a terrifying thought. 

“I’m sure you'd be devastated to lose the chance to choose my next haircut,” you retort as you lean in closer to her. Even when you're talking about a potential relationship with another woman, the only person on your mind is Wanda. The two of you gravitate towards each other until your lips meet. The kiss is short but meaningful. She smiles at you when the both of you break away before she bites her lower lip. You smile back at her as she steps away from you. “I'll see you later?” You ask as you open the door to your truck. 

Wanda nods, “Yeah, I'll um, I'll see you later.” 

“Okay,” you say softly. “Goodnight, Wanda. Sweet dreams.” 

“Sweet dreams, Y/n” she repeats and waves goodbye as you climb into your truck. She watches you drive away from the front door. She decides then that she doesn't need to be exploring her sexuality anymore. None of the people she sleeps with make her feel nearly as alive as that simple kiss did. As she lies in her bed, she goes through all of her dating apps and deletes every single one of them. She doesn't need them anymore.

Chapter 17

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20

[lilypadlys]

In Your Arms

Dew is having a hard time on tour. Between being homesick, missing Aether, and having nightmares, he's at the end of his rope and snapping at everyone. He really needs some gentle love but who do you turn to when you've pushed everyone away?

Ship: Dew/Swiss, bit of Dew/Aether

Word Count: 1550

Rating: Teen (for mild language)

Tags: SFW, fluff, hurt/comfort, cuddles

Below the cut or on AO3

The tour is nearing its end. Everything has been going mostly smoothly. The new summons Aurora and Phantom have integrated seamlessly. No major injuries have been sustained. Only some venue issues and inclement weather stood in the way of it being a flawless run and those were out of their control.

Still, Dew feels on edge. He’s tired. Being away from the ministry, constantly on the move, and missing Aether and Sunny, as well as a million other discomforts are all taking their toll. He hasn’t slept soundly in ages, sleep plagued with nightmares.

He’s been extremely snappy at everyone. He manages to pull himself together for the shows. Falling into his role, taking out his frustrations on his guitar strings. Off stage though, he can’t find an outlet. The smallest thing sets him off.

He hates himself for it. Cumulus didn’t deserve the hisses he spewed at her when she tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Poor Phantom looked ready to cry when Dew told him to fuck off when he asked if they wanted to room together at the hotel last night. Aurora and Rain have been avoiding him entirely, afraid of invoking his wrath. Cirrus and Mountain shoot him glares on the regular in response to his snarky asides. Swiss is the only one still willing to deal with him and even the multi ghoul’s patience has its limits.

When they get settled in the hotel for the night, Swiss just wordlessly hauls the grumpy fire ghoul into their room before he can start a fresh argument in the hotel lobby. Swiss has given up trying to help. He sighs tiredly as Dew chucks his overnight bag to the floor, causing a loud thump. Dew flops on his bed and turns his back to Swiss with a growl. Swiss just shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, and disappears into the bathroom to shower. Dew is left to glower in solitude.

When the bathroom door clicks shut, Dew huffs and rolls onto his back. He doesn’t know what to do. How to get out of this funk. He knows the other’s are trying to help but he can’t lower his guard long enough to let them. Aether could fix this. He thinks. Aether always knew what to do to get Dew to chill. Be it forcing him into a cuddle pile, fucking him senseless, or even just letting Dew rage. Aether’s patience seemed neverending. No matter how long he was out of it, how many nasty things Dew said, Aether always forgave him.

As if on cue, Dew hears his phone buzz. He wrestles it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Aether.

“Hey Firelily.” The text reads.

“Hey Aeth.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Dew snorts. “What do you think? I’m sure Mount already blabbed to you.” Dew instantly regrets it as soon as he hits send. Why is he like this? Here’s Aether, checking on him, obviously concerned about him, and all he can do is be a bitch.

“Yes, Mountain told me you weren’t feeling well. Is it the nightmares again?”

Dew is once again amazed at Aether’s uncanny ability to always find the root of the problem.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry Spark. I wish I could be there to help.”

But you’re not, is all Dew can think. He knows it’s not Aether’s fault. He’d be here if he could. But he’s not.

Even though he holds back from typing it, Aether seems to know what he’s thinking anyway.

“You’ll be back home soon and then I’ll help in whatever way I can.” Aether promises.

“Thanks.”

Dew makes to toss his phone to the nightstand when it buzzes again.

“The others care about you too. They just want to help.”

Dew wants to make some jerky comment but he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut to hold back the tears that have begun to form.

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to open up. They can’t help if you don’t let them.”

Dew sits in silence with that. He knows it. Truly he knows that everyone in the pack loves him and cares about him, and that they want to help. And yet all he’s done is push them away.

“Sweet dreams Dew.”

Dew does start to cry then. He so desperately needs a hug. Needs someone to wrap their arms around him and tell him everything will be alright. That they don’t hate him despite how horrible he’s been. Needs someone to hold him as he falls asleep and to protect him from the nightmares and nasty thoughts that plague his brain whenever he tries to relax. He curls up into a ball, tail wrapped around himself, as he sobs into the sheets.

He doesn’t hear as Swiss quietly opens the bathroom door, despite the water never running. He doesn’t see him round the corner. Swiss’ gentle touch on his back startles him and flinches; hissing and baring teeth. Dew watches in horror as Swiss’ expression goes from gentle concern, to hurt, to angry exasperation. Swiss grits his teeth and withdraws his hand. “Sorry.” He mutters as he turns away.

“Wait.” Dew forces the word out.

Swiss turns back, brow raised; unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Dew uncurls himself and sits up as fresh tears well in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

Swiss’ expression softens. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving Dew his space, and waits.

Dew trembles as he forces the words out between sobs. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. You guys were just trying to help.”

“Yeah, you’ve really been a shit recently.” Swiss agrees, teasingly rather than meanly.

Dew shrinks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

“Oh baby.” Swiss scoots a little closer. “We don’t hate you. Why do you think we haven’t thrown you off the tour bus yet?”

“But I probably deserve it at this point.” He whimpers.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Great, another thing I can’t do right.” Dew huffs and rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. Instead he just sounds disappointed in himself.

“Stop that. You can do plenty of things right.”

“Uh huh.” Dew frowns, unconvinced.

“Well first of all, you're the best lead guitarist I know.”

“That’s mean to Ifrit. And Alpha.”

“I don’t care. You’re better.” Dew gives him a look but Swiss continues. “You also make amazing pancakes.”

“That’s like the only thing I can do in the kitchen.”

“So? I love pancakes.”

Dew’s sobs have slowed to the occasional sniffle and a smile is threatening to break out so Swiss keeps going.

“And let's see. You’re pretty too. That doesn’t hurt.”

Dew makes a pouty face but Swiss interrupts before he can protest.

“You are. And I have excellent taste so you know it’s true.”

That does it and the corners of Dew’s lips are quivering upwards. He ducks his head in an attempt to hide.

“In fact, the only thing I can think of that you’re bad at is getting us to hate you.” Swiss closes the distance and nuzzles Dew’s head. “We love you, you little idiot. Don’t forget it, okay?” He purrs in Dew’s ear.

Rather than pull away, Dew leans into Swiss and rewards him for his efforts with a low purr of his own.

“Thanks Swiss.” Dew mumbles shyly.

“Of course Droplet.”

Dew suddenly looks up. “I need to apologize to the others.”

“That you do, but it can wait until the morning. Right now you need sleep.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go shower and change into comfy clothes. I showered back at the venue so I’ll get a nest set up.”

Dew does as he’s told and gets up. He shucks his boots and clothes on his way to the bathroom. The hot water does wonders, washing away sweat and his bad mood alike. He feels infinitely better as he towels off and slips into clean sweats. When he steps out of the bathroom, he finds a blanket nest on the bed as promised, Swiss ensconced in the middle.

“C’mere.” Swiss beckons and Dew hops on the bed and curls up next to him, his back to the multi ghoul’s chest. Swiss pulls a blanket over the two of them and starts to run his claws through Dew’s golden mane.

Once he gets all the tangles out, he starts to braid, humming softly. Dew can’t help but be reminded of Aether. The quintessence ghoul used to do this as well. He figures Aether probably told Swiss how to help and normally Dew would be angry. It’s something special and private. Aether is typically the only one Dew can truly open up with, and be this vulnerable around. But now, he finds he doesn’t mind. He lets himself relax for once as Swiss hums and whispers praise and affirmations.

Dew doesn’t know at what point he drifts off, just that for the first time in a while he’s slept peacefully. Nightmare free.

As soon as he sees the others at breakfast he apologizes. Despite his fears, they all forgive him immediately and he finds himself in the middle of a group hug. He doesn’t even feign dislike, and just lets himself enjoy being held. In their arms he feels warm, and safe, and loved.

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Ten: On Your Beam Ends

*mood board by the lovely @janaispunk. divider by the equally lovely @saradika-graphics

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI. Angst, tears, cursing, overthinking, adults avoiding confrontation. Poor Reader is having a week. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used). Chapter names are nautical phrases.

a/n: Thank you to all who have commented, liked, or reblogged! Every single one is sincerely appreciated.

Series masterlist

Bolting upright at the sudden cacophony, Joel rubbed his eyes and tried to get his brain functioning. The pounding on the door vibrated through his head, nearly as loud as the alarms sounding from the bridge. You stirred next to him, equally as disoriented at the harsh wake up call.

“Captain!” a shout reverberated through the wooden door and Joel stood with a groan, his muscles tight from last night’s activities.

“Damn it! Hold on.”

The door burst open just as he slipped a clean pair of boxer briefs over his hips. Bill entered the room, speaking frantically, “We’ve got a big problem, Jo—oh shit!”

Already clutching the sheet to your chest, looking like you wanted to disappear beneath it, your eyebrows shot up and you slid further down in the bed in embarrassment. Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as Bill stared between the two of you, brows pulled together. Joel grumbled under his breath. It was too early for this shit. Dark, frustrated eyes finally raising to look at Bill, Joel gestured for him to get on with whatever the emergency was.

“Right, not my business. There was a mechanical failure in the engine room sometime early this morning, the damn engine’s flooded with sea water. We’re dead in the water until it’s fixed, and I can’t do it alone.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouted. He did not need that right now. The lingering fondness from your night together was fading fast, the memory of the words that nearly spilt from his lips long gone, guilt settling into its place. He let himself get distracted and shit hit the proverbial fan. The charter season could be well and done for them if they couldn’t fix the issue. “How did no one notice earlier?” he snapped, pulling on some more clothes.

Bill quirked a brow, silently asking if Joel was fucking kidding him. “Everyone was sleeping and we’re at port,” the man grumbled, annoyed at having to explain something so obvious. “There was no reason to have anyone on watch and the alarms didn’t trigger until a short bit ago.”

“Fine,” Joel snapped with a flick of his wrist, gesturing for Bill to leave. “I’ll meet you down in the engine room in a few minutes.”

Slipping from the bed with a sigh once Bill left, you wrapped your arms around Joel’s broad back. He knew you were trying to comfort him when he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he immediately stiffened, running a frustrated hand through his already mussed hair. Your hands fell as he stepped away, still not turning around. He couldn’t bear to face you, not with what he was about to do. He couldn’t do this anymore. The exact thing he was afraid would happen just did and he’d been distracted. The only saving grace was that no one was hurt or put in danger.

“Get dressed. I gotta go. You should get back to your cabin. You shouldn’t have been in here in the first place.” He kept his voice cold, detached, while attaching a freshly charged radio onto his waistband.

“Joel…” Your voice was soft, tender, barely a breath in the air, yet he could hear the hurt in your voice clear as day and he winced. Clearing your throat, in a more measured tone, you added, “Can I do anything to help? Sounds like an extra set of hands might help.”

Already stressed and second guessing every decision he made concerning you in the past twenty-four hours, he snapped. “You can help by getting out of here and back to your cabin where you belong! Quit being a distraction when I have a job to do, a yacht to run. I knew something like this would happen if I gave in. I fuckin’ knew it and I did it anyway. Now here where we are.”

By your sharp inhalation behind him, he knew his words stung. That’s what he wanted, though it stung him too. He needed to push you away, to get you out of his sight so he could focus on the important things again, to keep shit like season-ending disasters from happening on his watch. He needed to not get caught in bed with a deckhand by the yacht’s fucking engineer, god damn it!

“You can hardly blame a mechanical failure in the dead of night on me, Joel. That’s not fair and you know it.”

He ignored you, brushing his teeth as quickly as he could. You were right, but he couldn’t admit that, not to you and not right then.

You were a blur, frantically slipping on your dress from last night, when he finally turned to face you. See caught the moment you remembered your panties were in the pocket of the pants he wore last night, clearly resigned to just leave them behind as a bitter reminder of what could have been. His tee shirt balled up in your fist, you met his hardened gaze and launched it at him without another word, the material smacking him in the face before catching it. Storming from his quarters, you missed the way the stony mask disintegrated as he held the shirt against his face, inhaling the lingering scent of you one more time. He already regretted pushing you away, but it had to be done. He was a fool to have thought otherwise.

“FUCK!” Joel shouted, wanting desperately to punch something, anything, but he held back. The last thing he needed was to damage the yacht further. Instead, he strode to the bridge and mashed the controls until the alarms were silenced and he could think clearly again, dashing down the decks to the engine room.

Your words weaved their way through his mind on repeat the rest of the day, your voice small and hurt, causing an ache in his chest. He pushed them down, fought them back, every chance he could.

What the hell just happened?

You had no idea. One second, you’re peacefully sleeping in Joel’s warm embrace after a wonderful night together. The next? He’s a stone-faced version of the caring man he’d been hours earlier, kicking you out of his room like the intimate, steamy moments between you never happened. He pushed you away like you meant nothing to him, treating you as nothing more than an inconvenience, an impediment to the rest of his day, his job, his life. You’d never felt less wanted, more worthless than in that very moment.

Was he really that upset about something unexpectedly happening to an engine while you were together?

Your head spun, once again on that stomach-churning roller coaster with Joel. At the peak last night, everything felt amazing and hopeful, now the bottom dropped out and you felt derailed, wondering if you’d ever get back on track again.

Eyes burning with the imminent threat of tears, you avoided everyone on the rush back to your cabin, finally losing the battle to keep the tears at bay when you reached your bunk, thankfully devoid of Tess’ presence. You were far from ready to talk to anyone, especially Sarah or Tess – they were too connected to Joel. Curling up into the smallest form possible, you slid under the bunched-up covers, ear buds in to drown out the ambient noise, and hid in the dark room for hours.

What a fool you were to believe that things between you and Joel could have worked out.

You fell into a fitful sleep, the kind where you dreamt that you were awake and your mind… Would. Just. Not. Stop. The nap didn’t help any – you awoke more exhausted emotionally and physically than you were when you fell asleep.

A soft knock on the cabin door disturbed your relentless staring at the wall and you sighed. “Brit? Can I come in?” Sarah’s concerned yet hesitant voice carried through the door. “I… um… I heard what –”

“I just need some time alone, Sar,” you cut her off, tearfully. Your voice caught on the next word, “Please.”

After a long pause, a thump sounded on the door which you thought might be Sarah’s head. The thought left you oddly amused. If anyone should be banging their head against something it would be you.

“Ok, I’ll leave you be, for now. But I’m here if you need anything. Just text me.”

You didn’t respond, the tension leaving your shoulders at the sound of Sarah’s footsteps finally moving away from your door. You wondered, briefly, if you’re reaction was immature or petty, if you should just suck it up, just let it go and act like the adult you were. The thought only just occurred to you before he hurt and rejection set in full force once again and you didn’t care how fucking immature it might be, you deserved to wallow for as long as you needed, wanted. You just had your heart broken. Fuck Joel or anyone else who had something to say about it.

The engine room was a wreck, control panels pulled apart, engine in pieces on the ground as Bill worked his magic cleaning parts and making repairs, Joel serving as his right hand. The two men worked seamlessly, silently, an arrangement that suited Joel just fine as it kept him busy and held the twinges of guilt and regret at bay. He already received an earful from his daughter wanting to know just what the hell he did to you after she saw you flee to your room on the verge of tears. And though Bill didn’t say a word about what he saw or heard, his keen gaze carried judgement and opinions that Joel was certain he did not want to hear. Not now and maybe not ever.

It took all day and half the night, many frantic phone calls, and one visit to a well-stocked marina by Tommy, while he was still in Old San Juan with Maria, to get the mechanical issues sorted out and the engine put back together. There would be no impact to the incoming charter the next day, thankfully. By the time they were done, Joel was exhausted and numb and in need of a full week of sleep. He wanted to talk to you, needed to talk to you, but what could he possibly say?

Now that the engine issues were resolved, his reaction that morning seemed like overkill. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit it was a total over-reaction. He could have – should have – handled it better. Instead, he panicked and blew everything out of proportion, placing the blame and burden of past mistakes and poor decisions on you, unfairly hurting you in the process.

Joel briefly considered stopping by your cabin to check on you before heading to the bridge – Sarah coldly informed him you’d been locked up in there all day and she blamed him for it, rightly so – but he thought better of it. Emotions were still on edge and exhaustion won out. He’d give you time and get some rest before going to plead his case to you with his tail between his legs.

Frank stood at the helm checking over the readings from the engine test Joel asked him to run earlier, his head lifting to meet Joel’s gaze when he stepped onto the bridge.

“Bill told me what he walked in on and the aftermath he heard.” Frank’s tone was measured as he leant back against the console, arms folded loosely in front of his chest. “We can all see how much you care about her.”

Frank had a way about him that made people open up to him – something in his countenance and sympathetic gaze. With just two sentences, Frank had Joel blurting out what happened, the captain baring his soul before he even realized it was happening. He told Frank everything that was in his heart, all of his worries, everything. When he finished, Joel was surprised to feel relieved. How long had it been since he shared the full burdens of his heart and mind with someone?

“You need to talk to her, Joel,” Frank replied gently after hearing the regret in the captain’s voice. “Tell her what you told me, she deserves to know – share the burden, it obviously helps.”

Absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the console, Joel shuffled nervously. “You don’t think it’s too soon to tell her I love her?” he questioned hesitantly.

“Only you know the answer to that. However, to me, it’s never too soon to tell someone you love them. Life is too short to hold such things back.”

Joel’s dark eyes searched Frank’s, looking for any doubt or insincerity but found neither. The man spoke from the heart and offered the best advice he could. Joel nodded his thanks with a quiet good night and departed for his quarters. He would sleep on it and consider following Frank’s advice in the morning.

Unsurprisingly, sleep did not come easy that night.

The tension on the boat the following morning was palpable as everyone readied for the arrival of the next round of charter guests. Tommy treated you with kid gloves, having obviously heard about yesterday’s drama through the grapevine, shooting you concerned glances whenever he gave orders or his brother’s voice carried over the radio. You knew he felt at least partially responsible based on the guilt in his eyes when he looked at you. You didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to let him know it was not his fault at all, not yet.

Wearing sunglasses even inside the yacht to hide your puffy eyes, you managed to avoid talking to anyone about what happened. Sarah and Tess tried a few times, but respected your boundaries when you asked them to drop it until you were ready to talk about it. Ellie even checked in, urging you to kick Joel’s ass if he was the one to hurt your feelings.

Of the crew you interacted with most, Jake was the only who treated you as he normally would – flirting, teasing, and generally acting like a dude without a care in the world. Oh, how you wished you could emulate that. You found yourself sticking to Jake’s side enjoying the complete lack of pressure from him and hoping some of his attitude and mindset rubbed off on you.

Wrapped up in dealing with your own misery, you didn’t notice Joel’s watchful eyes on you, his heart and resolve shattering with each hesitant smile drawn from your lips by Jake. He had every intention of seeking you out first thing after he woke up, to apologize and begin the process of making things right. As the saying went, the road to hell was paved with good intentions. One brief glance at you in the crew mess, eyes red and puffy, shoulders hunched self-consciously, and he caved to every excuse his mind came up with to give you more time.

Once again, he was distracted by thoughts of you – you were so deep in his head and heart at this point – and before Joel knew it, the guests arrived. An entourage of rich, single men in their forties, it was bound to be a busy, rowdy charter.  And a part of him worried for you and the attention you’d likely to get from these guests.

Fuck, he just couldn’t get his mind off of you. You were everywhere, in every facet of his life now. There was no escaping you and that was the problem. He didn’t want to escape you, but you avoided him at every turn during the next few days, making the current situation that much more unbearable and impossible to resolve.

On the fourth day of the charter, it finally came to a head.

You and Jake were loading the kayaks before the sun went down, Jake chatting away to keep your spirits up. He made you laugh about something completely stupid and, distracted, you tripped over one of the lines. The fall happened in slow motion, Jake calling out to you in shock, the kayak slipping from your grip, your hands reaching out to break your fall. Even in slow motion, it was not enough to prevent your head from bouncing off the deck, the strike rattling your brain.

“Oh shit!” Tommy shouted, having turned from his own task at Jake’s yell. At your side in a flash, he held you still, calling the captain over the radio as he prevented you from trying to get up. He eyed you worriedly as your big eyes rolled around in your head. “Don’t move, Brit. That was a good knock to the head, we’re gonna need to get you checked out.”

Black circles ringed the edges of your vision as you tried to focus on Tommy’s face, but instead of focusing, the circles closed in until everything went black.

tbc

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 17

Hello! I'm still trying to sort out the tagging problem, so until it's fixed follow the tag #ladykailithawrites and hope that Tumblr doesn't screw that up, too. I've reported my issue with the help desk and I hope to hear word back soon. Thanks to @goodolefashionedloverboi, @estrellami-1, and @just-a-tiny-void for trying their best to help me.

I'm going to try tagging in the comments, but it's going to blow them up (only five per comment)...apologies.

Throws cliffhanger at you and runs!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

***

Steve got to the tattoo shop and found Eddie waiting for him. He was leaning against the door to his van, arms and ankles crossed with his head down. Steve thought he looked like a sunning lizard on a rock. Though he supposed Eddie would appreciate a dragon comparison instead.

“Hello gorgeous,” he greeted, coming up to the van.

Eddie opened his eyes and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. Thanks so much for offering to do this, you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Steve said softly. “It was shit that I was taking longer on that tattoo than it should have.”

“Did you get it worked out?” Eddie asked, following Steve to the front door of the shop.

“I got it to the point where the client was satisfied, even if I wasn’t,” Steve murmured. He unlocked the door and then bent down to unlock the metal screen that protected the shop from people breaking through the plate glass in the door and lifted it up to allow them entry into the Royal Pain’s lobby.

“Just let me boot up the computer,” he said, smiling at Eddie, “and then we’ll get started on your working on your tattoo.”

“You don’t have to set up your equipment?” Eddie asked, coming over to lean on the counter while Steve fiddled with their computer.

Steve shook his head. “That’s the best part of having apprentices, I can have them do that for me. And in this case, Argyle offered to set it up last night after work, while the rest of us went to your gig.”

Eddie grinned. “It looked like you were having a good time.”

“You know exactly what you did,” Steve scoffed. “That was a deliberate seduction and you know it.”

Eddie batted his eyes innocently. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. That’s what I usually wear when I preform.”

Steve ran his tongue over his teeth slowly. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. It was the wink that killed me.”

Eddie cackled.

“Okay, got the system up and running,” Steve said, standing up. “I’m just going to lock the door so people don’t think it’s safe to come in.”

Eddie nodded.

They went back to Steve’s room and sure enough Argyle had gotten everything laid out for Steve.

“I hope he decides to stay at the shop when his apprenticeship is over, because he does amazing work,” Steve said, pulling on the nitrile gloves.

“He seems pretty chill,” Eddie agreed, taking off his shirt. “Where’s he from? I can’t quite place the accent.”

“Southern California,” Steve said. “Came out here to help a friend get back on he’s feet and just ended up staying.”

Eddie got settled into the chair. “That was really nice of him.”

Steve shrugged. “He’s been a bit cagey about the friend, so I assumed it was a boyfriend and he didn’t want to out the guy. But he hit on and got the number of a girl that had applied for the apprenticeship at the same time. So I don’t know.”

“Could be the person involved was deep into drugs or alcohol and needed the help recovering,” Eddie suggested.

Steve hummed. “That’s a possibility. I wasn’t going to press because it really isn’t any of my business.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, as curious as the mystery is, it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Steve agreed and then started up the tattoo gun, getting to work.

“Everyone is liking the tattoo so far,” Eddie assured him. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s all done.”

Steve smiled fondly. “I’m glad you’re liking it so far. The last big tattoo I did was of this big boobed chick on motorcycle, pinup style. I kept telling the guy it wasn’t my usual style and that having reference would make it better or to go to someone else, who’s style it was. But he insisted I do it.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t turn out great?” Eddie asked.

“That’s the thing though,” Steve said over the buzzing of the gun. “It looked amazing. He just thought it looked too cartoonish. Even though he’d approved the design, approved every step, he suddenly turned around and tried to sue me.”

Eddie winced. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. That sucks.”

Steve shrugged and huffed through his nose. “The asshole sued me so often the last time the judge awarded me money for the pain and suffering the guy was causing me.” He paused and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I counter-sued, but the fact that the judge agreed with me and my lawyer over him and his lawyer pretty much sums up the whole ordeal.”

Eddie laughed. “That how you got your own shop in two years?”

Steve grinned. “Yup!” He smacked Eddie shoulder. “Now stop moving, you menace.”

Eddie settled down and let Steve do his work.

*

Steve and Eddie walked out of the parlor a couple hours later.

“Hey you want to go get some lunch?” Steve suggested as they parted ways to their separate cars.

Eddie grinned. “Hell, yeah! Where to?”

Steve suggested a diner nearby and Eddie agreed to meet him there. Eddie drove off, but as Steve was unlocking his car door, he thought he could feel the prickling of someone watching him. But when he looked around he didn’t see anyone that it could possibly be.

He shook his head. He was probably just imagining it. He got in his car and drove off.

*

Over the next couple of week, Steve would feel this twinge between his shoulder blades as if he was being watched, but whenever he would look around, he couldn’t spot anyone looking.

Robin smacked his arm one day after work and Steve spent five minutes looking around for the source of his unsettling feeling. “Stop it! You’re making me paranoid!”

“Come on, Robs!” Steve protested. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

She crossed her arms. “Yes I can, because seriously Steve, I can’t feel it. There is no one watching you!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I think it’s time to switch over to the nicknames at work. I don’t want anyone using their real names at work.”

Robin sighed. She wanted to argue that that was a stupid reason to start using the nicknames but she also knew that he was as stubborn as a mule and unfortunately at times, just as stupid. “Fine. But you find me a better name then stewardess, but that makes me sound like a waitress or some shit.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll find you a cool name.”

“I’ll hold you to that, your majesty,” she groused, sliding into the passenger seat of his car.

*

The name Robin ended up choosing was Chamberlainne. A femininized version of chamberlain. Erica, Argyle, and Chrissy all loved it. Steve wanted to tell them about the person that was watching him, but as Robin didn’t think it was a big deal (or even a thing), she overrode him.

Their weekends were spent with Eddie and his band and Eddie was slowly coming out of his shell more and more. They were still at the more than friends, but not quite lovers stage and while there were times Steve wanted to throw in the towel and just give up, Eddie would flash him this goofy grin and Steve would fall in love all over again.

The week days were filled with teaching Chrissy and Argyle the ins and outs of the tattooing industry and getting more and more busy. It was honestly insane how busy they were getting. Hell, Steve was booked up for the next six months.

Robin was about ready to tear out her hair from how busy it was.

“I know we said we’d wait for July to get another receptionist,” Steve told Robin after a particularly busy day, “but we need one now. I’ll stop paying myself if I have to to cover the cost.”

Robin sighed. “You don’t have to do that, we have the money to hire one. I just haven’t had the time to set up appointments for interviews.”

Steve sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Train Chrissy on the phones to help lighten your load a bit so you can set that up. I’ll also ask around the other shops, see if I can’t find out why we’re getting this massive flux of people.”

Robin nodded. “I know it’s worse for you with Chrissy and Argyle only being apprentices and not full on artists to lighten your load, but with the money Erica is bringing in with henna being popular again, it’s been helping us keep up with the demand.”

*

Steve went to Hopper’s first. Hop would know the ins and outs of the scene better then he would. Steve was too new to really be apart of it, his style notwithstanding.

“Stevie!” Hop greeted. “Long time no see!”

They hugged each other tightly. “Hey, Hop. How’s things?”

“Busy as hell,” the older man groused. “I don’t know what it is, but a lot of the shops around here are just buzzing.”

“Mine, too,” Steve said. “I was hoping you would know the cause, but if you don’t know, no one does.”

“I think it has to do with current state of the world, if I’m honest,” Hop said warily. “When you can’t find permanence in any other aspect of your life, getting a tattoo can fill that void.”

Steve sighed heavily. “That could be it. How’s Eden working out for you?”

“I need to take you out for dinner for putting her in my path, kid,” Hop said, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “She is going to be amazing. A really good fit.”

Steve grinned. “I’ll hold you to that, old man. Steak dinner at Kincaid’s.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Eden peeked her head around a corner and gasped. “Steve?”

“Hey, Eden,” Steve said brightly. “I hear you’re settling in pretty good around here.”

She came out to the front of the shop. “Yeah. This place is exactly the type of shop I always wanted to work in. Thank you so much for suggesting I apply here.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said.

“I owe so much,” she replied. “I got the apprenticeship here and I got a great new boyfriend in Argyle.”

Steve laughed. “I’m glad things are working out great.”

“Yeah,” Eden said, “we’re even going on a double date with his roommate and his girlfriend.”

“That’s got be fun,” Steve said, trying not ask the question that had been burning in his mind about said roommate for weeks.

She shrugged. “He’s okay, I guess. Painfully shy according to Argyle, but his girlfriend more than talks for the both of them.”

Steve was biting his lip, just dying to ask who these people were. He looked at his watch. It was really getting late.

“I really should go and let you guys clean and close up.”

He hugged Hop and waved goodbye to Eden. He breathed a sigh of relief as the cool night hit his face. He had been so close to asking Eden about the elusive roommate even though both Robin and Eddie had warned him not to ask.

And maybe because he was lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice someone coming up from behind him as he struggled to get into his car.

***

Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

[writingdotcoffee]

Writing Challenge: Fast Drafting

Fast drafting, or vomit drafting, is a pretty self-explanatory approach to writing. You try to get the first draft down as fast as you can. Contrary to what the name suggests, it's not all about speed (or, well, indigestion).

In this post, we'll go over the benefits of fast drafting and why you should try it at least once.

Why Fast Draft?

Although you write faster than usual when fast drafting, speed isn't the point. For most writers, speed isn't a concern at all. Who cares whether it took you three, six or nine months to finish your book?

The problem many writers face is getting bogged down and never finishing at all. You probably heard the stats before. Nine out of ten writers who start working on a book will never finish the first draft.

Often, the issue isn't time or energy. These aspiring authors are paralysed by self doubt, second-guessing everything.

I still remember my first attempt at writing a novel. I spent weeks writing and rewriting the first few paragraphs — about 700 words. And that's it. I never got beyond that.

It starts by going back to edit stuff — rephrasing a few sentences here and there. Any bigger issue you can't fix right away will gnaw on you. Suddenly, you've got this feeling simmering inside of you that the story won't work.

You go back to your outline and start moving things around. Maybe you killed the sidekick too early? Isn't the build-up too predictable? Ugh! The whole thing is a mess, and you don't want to be working on it anymore.

How Fast Drafting Works?

The goal is to keep your mind focused on making progress. You don't want to give it a chance to second-guess anything until you've finished the first draft.

It's surprisingly difficult to do if you haven't done it before.

Your first draft will be a mess. All first drafts are. But you will have to ignore that and keep ploughing ahead. Your inner perfectionist will be in agony.

To stay disciplined, many writers don't allow themselves to fix anything. Mistyped a word? It stays in. No exceptions.

Editing is a slippery slope. You fix a typo here and there. Next, you're fixing the odd structural issue, moving a few paragraphs around. Before you know it, you're outlining again, wondering whether you should rather kill the sidekick in chapter 24.

That said, a messy first draft can be a blessing. Instead of seeing your first draft as this seemingly polished thing, you see it for the mess that it is. No matter how much you edit during the first draft, it will never be perfect.

When you start editing, you'll fix the typos and obvious issues. That will help you get into the flow and be ready to tackle the big things next.

The Editing Lock

Writing Analytics (the app that I built) has a thing called the editing lock. When you enable it, you won't be able to delete anything from your draft.

Every time I use it, I'm surprised just how much I go back to edit stuff. It's so helpful.

It was a suggestion from one of the readers of the blog a while ago (massive thank you 🙏).

If you'd like to try it, the app is free for everyone for the first two weeks.

The Challenge

Spend an hour or more this week fast-drafting a story. Come up with an idea and stick to it until the end — no matter what. Put the editing lock on if you're struggling and crush all the self-doubt that comes up with a steamroller.

I set up a challenge where you can write along with me (and others):

https://app.writinganalytics.co/challenge/646c860be7b6ddfbda016a9c

[scriptstructure]

About & Guidelines

About the Blog:

In the fashion of ScriptMedic and cohort, this blog is here to answer questions about how to structure your story, and develop your narrative, and themes. If you’ve got your research, and you’ve got your plot, and then you’re stuck on how to make it fit together, or how to use your awesome research, then this is the blog for you!

This blog can provide assistance from simple tips regarding writing itself, through to recommendations for further reading and research. If I’m able I will provide links to relevant texts, or at least attempt to provide ways to find them.

Guidelines for Asking:

FIRST! An important note: I will not read your manuscript!

MS reading is time-intensive and is the sort of thing better left to dedicated beta readers or paid editors, please do not submit part/ all of your MS, and ask me to ‘tell you what’s wrong with it’ or ‘help fix it’.

Sending your ask:

ask box is preferred! Submit box is available if you absolutely can’t fit your question into the ask

I’ll be keeping messenger open in case I need to ask clarifying questions, but I would prefer that initial questions NOT be sent via messenger.

You’ll probably need to put 1-2 sentences of context about your story, and ask about the specific issue you’re having difficulty with

Generally speaking, the more specific your question is the better I will be able to help you – figure out the area that you’re having difficulty with and ask about that in particular. Sending a long rehash of your MS and then simply asking how to make it work is impossible to answer. Tell me what You think the problem you’re having is, and we can work from there.

As this blog grows, there will no doubt be posts related to troubles you’re having, I’ll be making sure to keep up a consistent tagging system so that all previous posts should be simple to find, simply head to the navigation page and look to see if your question has already been answered. If it hasn’t? Then ask away! If I’ve answered something similar to the question you have but haven’t quite hit the nail on the head? Ask away!

Also, you might notice that I’ll often advise people to read certain texts, or recommend stories, shows, films, novels, etc that are similar to what they’re working on. Reading is the best practice for writing, you’ll learn a lot about writing by reading attentively, and it is a process – all writing is a process! There’s no quick fix or cheat sheet that will work for everyone.

If you must send a question longer than the ask box allows, use a browser to access:

www.scriptstructure.tumblr/submit

About the Blogger:

My name is Mason and I’m all about character and narrative development, I’ll be doing my best to try and work through the thorny problems that come with the writing part of writing!

I have a degree in Creative Writing, a minor in English Literature, and an honours degree in Creative Writing (thesis focused on character structure and narrative). I’ve lectured on Character development in adaptation, and I’ve taught general creative writing, as well as writing for the stage.

I have several short stories published, as well as a self published novella, you can find my personal/ author blog [HERE]

[mbta-unofficial]

So you want to fix ya City, do ya?

Local activism works better and faster than any other kind, because you don’t need to go as far to get results.

If you want to understand how to make change, here are some steps.

1. Pick a Lane

Your energy is finite. One issue that gets the lions share of it will make way more difference than a lot of blogging and not a lot else about everything. Whatever your lane is, try to pick it thoughtfully and stick with it. A local issue will be way more moveable than a remote one, but the internet can be used to raise money for anything so it doesn’t need to be next door.

You’re gonna worry about other stuff. That’s ok. Let someone else handle it.

2. Lay of the Land

You are not the first person to look at this problem. Organizations exist to take this on, and the knowledge they have is indispensable to your goals. Your first step should be to be to find them: you don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. If you have a local newspaper, read it. If you don’t, go to your city’s reddit page and see where they get their info.

All Cities have an MPO or Metropolitan Planning organization. These are non-profits (usually) who advise the government on a variety of issues. Sign up for their newsletter. Find out when their next meeting is. Go.

Your issue will probably have an activist council, such as the MBTA ROC for transit advocates. Sign up for their newsletter. Find out when their next meeting is. Go.

Your city will likely have public meetings on the subject you are interested in. Find out when they are. Go.

If these aren’t relevant to your issue, you can go find other sources of information but you should try to find

a) a place where you can be in a real room with real people, or at least a zoom room. Watching videos and posting doesn’t count. Twitch streams are borderline, more than 200 or so viewers is just noise.

b) A place with a variety of ages. Old folks know things. they’ve been around the block. Young people have fresh perspectives and lots of energy. A room with just one is unlikely to produce a good plan of action

c) A place with racial and gender diversity. Boys’ clubs are common in politics, as are white only conversations about politics. The city is for everyone, and if you don’t have a diverse movement you will inevitably cater to the interests of your most powerful ally instead of helping everyone.

If you can’t find a meeting that meets these criteria, see if you can change the meeting that exists before starting your own. Institutional weight is invaluable and starting from scratch is possible but a challenge.

When you are at these meetings, do not worry about not understanding technical language. Take notes (or don’t) and google later. You are there to see, and also to be seen, because if you consistently attend public meetings you will recognize the same people there, and they will recognize you. Ask questions if you are given the opportunity but remember that you don’t need to understand everything right away and you will learn more by listening than by guessing.

You are there to make friends and learn, because you can’t do it alone.

3. Planning an action

If you have an idea for something that would help your cause, write it down. Then find out if someone else has already done it. (They almost certainly have.)

Make a list of steps. Ask your new friends about the steps. Revise your list of steps based on that feedback. You should do this at least once, no first draft is perfect. Assess how feasible the steps are. Replace any step that is impossible with an possible alternative. Give yourself twice as much time, money, and help as you think you’ll need. Review your steps.

Start stepping.

Be prepared to throw the steps out, but know that if you do because you had to, you will still have the time, money, and support that you budgeted. If you have to throw the steps out, make new ones. Keep going.

4. Post-op

You did it! You made it to the end of your steps. Get your friends to assess your work for you, and weigh their answers seriously. The problem is probably not gone, but it should be better. More importantly, you have built a system of people capable of carrying out an action. You know more, you are better connected. Go back to step 2. There is always more to learn, and that’s beautiful.