#after the update is out remind me to reblog this post and let you all know exactly which line it was

[matcha-milkies]

Sometimes I'll be writing a line of Bill dialogue, and then I try to put myself in Ford's shoes to figure out how he'll respond, and I'm hit with the biggest wave of exhaustion out of nowhere like. "What do I even say to this? 'Fucking kill yourself, Bill'?" Let me tell you, it's hard being Ford Pines. As someone who spends an ungodly amount of time writing fanfic from his perspective, I should know.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Waking Up in Vegas"

Prologue, Chapter one:, Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4:

ok guys! we're back and reader's hot girl summer has started! Sorry I was gonna put this chapter out earlier today but i've just been so busy today plus i'm cooking up a 3rd part for "older" I got my period AND i have a math test and english essay coming up. If some parts don't make sense, its on purpose. Reader is disoriented and drunk half the time, the days blur together for her. Lmk what yall think of readers hot girl summer and what you want/think will happen in the next chapter .Sorry for any mistakes! Comments, reblogs and ASKS make my dayyyy and encourage me.

Saint-Tropez wasn’t just a place, it was a playground, a haven for those who didn’t care about consequences or anyone else’s rules.

And you? Well, you were done with rules.

For the last two weeks, you’d been living like this, untouchable, free, and completely lying to your family.

You had told Bruce you were staying with Ariel and her father, which was true, for the first two days anyway.

Ariel's father is a busy man, he couldn't take 2 and a half months off work to babysit two 16 year olds who would do what they wanted anyway. As soon as he left, Ariel began calling your two other close friends, Claire and Rory. Together, all four of you were unstoppable at school though it was an unspoken rule that you and Ariel were the dynamic duo. All four of you stayed in Ariel's ocean front villa, relaxing, tanning, and just getting settled.

God, let's not even start on how drastically everything changed while you were at boarding school and the family found out Tiffany's true colors. They were all so.....protective now. You got calls everyday, from each of your 'siblings' separately, dozens of texts asking you what you ate, who you were with, and what you were doing. You didn't entertain them. The only person you replied to was Bruce, and that's only because you knew if he wanted to, he could call off this whole trip.

You didn't answer Tim's random, vague questions like, "Who's that on your story? Do you know them? Are you sure they're safe to be with?" He was asking about a simple sunset dinner picture you posted with Ariel, so you blocked him. He's way too nosy.

You didn't reply to the groupchat the girls, Barbra, Steph, and Cass added you in called "The girls!!"

What a creative name!

You left after you saw 'Tiffany was removed from this conversation'. Maybe you were being petty but they obviously had this chat before and didn't bother to add you to it before Tiffany was exposed. It was your turn to ignore them.

You definitely didn't reply to Damian's outright threatening messages that he sent almost every other day, they all sounded something along the lines of "You will regret this. You cannot simply leave and run away from your family. Come home or else."

He's such a strange little boy, he spoke and acted like an angry Victorian prince. He texted you like you were close before, like it wasn't him who pushed you away. You were coming back in two months and yet he acted like ran away and changed your name.

Jason, Bruce, and Dick were the most consistent and annoying, in that order exactly.

Jason texted you every morning at 8 and every night 11, like clockwork. His texts were daily updates what he was planning on doing that day, asking you the same, and reminding you that he's sorry and that he loves you. It tugged at your heart not to answer him, and sometimes, you gave in and you could feel the joy in his response when you replied. You and Jason's conversations went like this, on the odd occasion you replied,

"Good morning." - Jason

"How are you? No trouble in paradise I hope."- Jason

"My days gonna be pretty dull today, nothing much except patrol. Might go to that bookstore you used to like." - Jason

Your cold heart would melt when he said things like that and you would reply,

"awww! jason, thats so sweet." and follow with "I'm good!! how bout you??? staying out of trouble?"

Jason was your softest spot and he knew it.

Bruce texted you three times a day. Morning, afternoon, and evening. His messages were dry and authorative, demanding answers. He wanted to know who you were with, what you were doing, if you left the house, and if you were okay. The fatherly care and authority isn't something your used to, it was strange. You weren't sure if you felt cared for or suffocated. You answered Bruce once a day, your tone straight to the point, answering only what he asked, nothing more.

Dick is by far the worst. He texted you constantly, as if trying to make up for 11 years of not texting you at all. He texted you when he woke up, when he slept, when he ate, what he ate, and sent you pictures of everything. Once he sent you a picture of a tiny bird saying it reminded him of you. You nearly blocked him after that, the only reason you didn't was because you liked how desperate he was. Not long ago, it was you spamming him like that. Plus he can be funny most of the time. You don't even want to think of the constant selfies he sent. You only ever replied once.

Dick sent a selfie of him hanging with some of the Titans, you forgot why or what he said along with it, but you do remember seeing Connor Kent shirtless in the background. You giggled and showed Ariel how hot he is. You replied to Dick almost instantly hearting the picture, screen shotting it, and drawing a heart around Connor saying something like, "WHO DAT IN THE BACK????" and "Tell superboy to hmu".

Dick was not happy about that, that was the last group selfie he ever sent. He got more frequent with his texts after that. He must've snitched to Jason because not even five minutes after you got a text from him.

"Remember what I said. No boys, i'll kick his ass." - Jason

You ignored him of course.

The sun beat down in the south of France, but you were far from concerned with the blistering heat. Not when there was a private yacht at your disposal, a poolside filled with strangers and familiar faces alike, and the soundtrack of Drake keeping your pulse racing. You felt the vibration of your phone against your palm for the third time in ten minutes. Another text from Bruce. He was becoming more insistent you answer him the longer you were gone. It's only been two weeks! Another "where are you?" or "be careful." As if you were gonna listen. Or reply to him.

Bruce. The man who'd ignored you for the better part of your life, suddenly acting like a worried father because Tiffany, the perfect sister, had betrayed them all. Tiffany, the adopted daughter who had somehow replaced you in their world. Now, she was the enemy, the traitor, the spy, and she was gone. That meant you had all the freedom you could ever want.

The more you thought about Tiffany the angrier you got. She had everything. How many summers has she spent on yatchs partying? How many times has she blown thousands of Bruce's dollars? Why were you forgiving them so easily? Why were you even listening to him?

Just because he apologized and said he'd change?

Why should you forgive Jason so easily and respect his rules, he ignored you for years and replaced you with Tiffany. The more you drank, the more you thought and the angrier you got. Who do they think they are? You've always been too nice, too obedient, and they're still taking advantage of it. You'd show them, show them what its like to be ignored and forgotten and made fun of.

For the next two months, you were going to ignore them. Bruce and jason included. You've been too nice, too good these two weeks, your friends were begging to party but you didn't want to, you were scared of disappointing them.

You were so angry nothing changed in you that you finally caved and decided to do what Claire and Rory were doing, give your phone to a worker here and have them turn the location on and send updates to Bruce. You still used the same icloud so you could read their messages and make sure they weren't suspicous.

He'd think you were always at the villa or just going into town, they won't know what hit them.

You turn to Ariel and grin, "I'm free. What are we doing tonight?" You were done obeying their rules and living your life for them. Who knows when you'd be alone in Europe with your best friends again.

Ariel hopped off her chair and squealed, her dark skin glowing from the sun, she grabbed you and twirled you around, your giggles echoing through the yacht and drawing Claire and Rory's attention.

Ariel grinned and explained to Rory and Claire, "Little Miss good girl finally came to her senses and went M.I.A with her dad. Now we can finally party! Hot girl summer starts now."

All three girls start squealing and join Ariel in her celebration.

You rolled your eyes feeling guilty, "I told you, you could've gone without me!"

Ariel wrapped her arm around you, "Nonsense, it's not a party without you. Now, come on we gotta go shopping if we're going out tonight. It's lucky that we both have daddy's black cards. It's really lucky that they have Dior, Hermes, and YSL down the street."

You weren't sure how much you spent and the drinks kept you from feeling guilty. Bruce is like, a bajilionaire, what you spent won't make a dent.

Somehow, you ended up on an even bigger yacht filled with guys, in your brand new Dior bikini with a matching bag.

By the time night fell, the yacht was buzzing, the VIP lounge overrun by people who hadn’t even been invited. The bass was so loud you felt it in your bones. You didn’t care. You've never felt so alive.

Your new phone wasn't getting any messages except DMs, and the woman you hired confirming Bruce thought you were sound asleep in the villa.

You can practically taste the summer air as you step onto the deck of the boat, laughing with Ariel and your friends and the others you’ve met along the way. No one cares about where you’ve been, where you’re going, or who your family is.

As the DJ cranks up the volume, a cute guy with long blonde hair catches your eye. You wink at him and saunter over. This summer is all about freedom, and you’re ready for it. His hands are already on your waist, pulling you close, and suddenly you’re lost in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, his lips brushing against your ear.

The night wears on, you drink more, laugh louder, flirt harder. The yacht turns into a blur of lights, drinks, and music. As midnight rolls around, the party shows no signs of slowing. You could stay here forever, with no rules but your own.

But then it happens. You wake up in a completely different city.

London.

You’re sprawled on a plush couch in a ridiculously luxurious flat, a half-empty bottle of champagne next to you. The room smells like expensive perfume, and the decor is all sleek lines and minimalist chic. You sit up slowly, your head pounding from last night.

You sit up straighter, rubbing your eyes.You vaguely remember a private jet, but it’s all blurry. One moment, you were on the deck of the yacht, living it up, and the next, you're waking up in an entirely new country.

You look around the room in panic and spot Ariel sleeping on the couch and a random guy, butt naked on the floor next to her. You sigh in relief at Ariel being okay and the fact you weren't kidnapped.

There’s a knock at the room door, and when you answer, it's a random guy from last night, British accent, disheveled hair, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He grins at you sheepishly. “Hey, you good?”

You, Ariel, the naked boy named Christian, and the Brit named Thomas, have breakfast and exchange stories of what you remember from last night. It was fun, but you and Ariel flew back to St. Tropez where a jealous Claire and a worried Rory were waiting.

Last night was fun, but it couldn't happen again. It was dangerous and if anything happened Bruce wouldn't know.

Except it did happen again, and again, all summer long.

The next weeks were a blur, Venice, Monaco, and Madrid, with stops in Dubai and Los Angeles along the way. Each city more vibrant and intoxicating than the last. Every place you went, you had the freedom to be whoever you wanted to be. There was always a fresh crop of people, and you reveled in not having to answer to anyone. No father, no brothers, no sisters, just you and your friends against the world.

You and Ariel lived your lives like you were gonna die tomorrow. You were unstoppable, no family, no rules, no responsibility. Your abilities weren't acting up at all, everything was perfect. Bruce and the family were off your back, being made to think you were at the villa all day.

The “No Boys Rule” was completely disregarded, though. It seemed that whenever you let your guard down for just a moment, you’d end up surrounded by someone new. Whether it was a guy from a club in Monaco or a guy you met on a private yacht in Venice, you were always finding someone new

Despite all the parties, the alcohol, and the private Instagram posts, and funny Tik Toks, there was still a growing sense that you weren’t living this life for you, you were living it for the rebellion, to spite Bruce.

It wasn’t just about freedom anymore. It was about finally being seen, even if that meant drifting away from everyone you once called family.

You only had one month left of absolute freedom, and you were gonna make the most of it. With Ariel, Rory, and Claire by your side, you partied in just about every city.

The final month of your wild European escapade had arrived, and things were only getting wilder.

The clock had no meaning anymore. Days and nights blended into each other as you danced from one city to the next, your world a whirlwind of music, champagne, and endless laughter. Ariel, Rory, and Claire had become your partners in crime, literally when you got arrested, but thats not important.

Each morning you woke up in a new place, groggy and confused, only to remember the night before—flashing lights, pounding beats, and the promise of more. Cannes, Monte Carlo, Paris, or Dubai, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the freedom you’d found in them, and in yourself. You were more than the neglected, ignored girl from Gotham; now, you were the life of the party.

there was always someone waiting to whisk you away to the next nightclub, the next gala, the next beach party where the world’s richest men tried to get your attention.

First, it was Paris. You could feel the eyes on you as soon as you entered the hotel lobby. The air smelled of expensive perfume, freshly polished marble, and the faintest trace of guilt, because in some corner of your mind, you could still hear Bruce’s voice echoing in your ears. But it quickly faded as the first private yacht rolled up to the dock. The deck was crowded with Parisian socialites and half-drunk billionaires, but it wasn’t about the crowd, it was about the feeling of being wanted. Being worshipped.

It was in Paris that you really started feeling the distance between you and the life you’d left behind. The champagne flowed easily, the laughter came effortlessly, but there was an ache you hadn’t anticipated. A pang that struck at the edges of your satisfaction, the kind you couldn’t drink away.

You thought about Bruce. His pleading words, his desperation, and how, for a moment, you almost felt sorry for him. But only for a moment. You couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t let them see that you’d needed them. Because that would mean giving up everything you had now, the freedom, the endless nights, the city hopping, the boys who adored you.

You let it all sink in, just for a second, how much control you had over them now. How much they wanted you back, how much they needed you back. It felt good, knowing that you could walk away and have them chase after you, like you used to chase them.

Maybe it was the brief, fleeting moments when you thought about Gotham, about Bruce, about your family, and how none of it felt real anymore. They’d played their games, ignored you, and now it was your turn.

Meanwhile, your phone was a constant buzz of messages. Tim had sent at least five texts, each one more urgent than the last. Jason called twice, his voice sharp and filled with that annoying overprotectiveness he just developed. And Bruce… well, Bruce sent you one long, pleading message, something about understanding, about giving him another chance, and answering his calls. You didn’t even bother reading it all. You didn’t need to. You didn’t care enough to respond.

You had no intention of being tied down by anyone, but when a French prince with dark, tousled hair and eyes that burned through your soul offered you a glass of champagne and a seat next to him, you took it.

You didn’t even have to look for him, he found you. He was the one with the perfect jawline, the one who could be a model if he wasn’t already a prince. His eyes, blue locked onto yours the second you entered the VIP area. A raised brow, a subtle smirk, and you knew that for tonight, he was yours.

You didn’t speak much. He didn’t ask questions, and that was the kind of energy you craved. A few words, some flirting, fleeting touches, and then you were in his Lambo, the leather seats smooth under your skin as the city sped by. He went as fast as you wanted, loving the thrill and impressed look in your eyes.

The thrill was intoxicating, the feeling of being someone else, someone free. The kind of person who didn’t have to answer to anyone. A few hours later, you were standing on a balcony, watching the sunrise, your lips tingling from the kiss he’d stolen.

Your mind was a haze of laughter and the aftertaste of expensive whiskey. The view of the French Riviera was far too beautiful to appreciate right now, and your thoughts wandered back to Gotham, to the family you’d abandoned, the ones who had never cared for you.

But as the days wore on, it was harder to ignore the hollow feeling creeping in. The message from Dick, the one where he told you that he loved you, stayed in your mind longer than it should have. You told yourself it didn’t matter. You didn’t owe him anything. But you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a second, what it would have been like if things were different.

You turned away from those thoughts quickly. You couldn’t afford to get attached. Not now. Not when you were on the verge of something bigger. The freedom you had now was everything you wanted. No one could take that from you.

You couldn’t let them control you. You wouldn’t let them.

You and Ariel were inseparable now, pulling Claire and Rory into your whirlwind of recklessness. You all had your roles, Ariel was the carefree partier, Claire the quiet one who always managed to keep ya'll out of trouble, and Rory was the one always ready with a camera and a new Tik Tok idea. You were the star, the one they all gravitated toward.

Each day was a new city, a new set of challenges, a new set of eyes who wanted to be close to you. You knew the game, knew how to play it. You knew how to keep them guessing, how to make them want you more.

So, you danced. You partied. You lived in the moment and let your life spiral further from Gotham’s grasp.

From there, it was off to the next city.

Las Vegas; Sin City, there was no place like it. You couldn’t even remember how you got there, your mind fuzzy with a mix of adrenaline and whatever was in that last glass of tequila. The strip was lit up like daylight, people everywhere, the air thick with smoke and the sound of slot machines ringing through the night.

You woke up in a penthouse suite that could have been mistaken for an entire floor of the Bellagio, the morning sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. And there he was, a prince. The same French prince, draped in a robe embroidered with gold thread, a fresh glass of mimosas on the table beside him. He was smirking, lounging on the couch like this was all part of his daily routine. You couldn’t even remember how you got to the suite. What had happened between the bar and now? You didn’t care.

He didn’t seem to care either, his hand casually tracing the rim of his glass, his eyes never leaving you. You laughed, feeling the surrealness of it all wash over you, the weight of your last 48 hours in Ibiza and Monaco still fresh on your skin. One minute, you were dancing at a celebrity’s secret after-party in Monaco, and the next, you were here, on the other side of the world with some mysterious prince who had probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the night was spent taking private jet rides to exclusive clubs, partying with people whose names you couldn’t even pronounce, and waking up to the flashing lights of a casino floor. Vegas was the kind of place where everything felt fake, but that didn’t matter. You really are Brucie Wayne's daughter.

Next stop, Ibiza, the heart of Europe’s clubbing scene. Ariel and you slipped into the club, stepping past the velvet ropes like it was second nature. The security guard practically bowed as you walked by. The crowd parted for you, the clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of expensive conversations filling the air.

This was where you belonged. The heat of the island, the night that stretched into forever. You and Ariel danced on top of the table at Pacha, popping bottles like they were nothing, the music vibrating in your bones, the crowd chanting your name like you were the star of the show. It was your second night there, and you had already met a Spanish duke who was more interested in buying you a yacht than actually getting to know you. There was white powder everywhere, tempting you to try but you didn't give in. Who knows what could be in it. Your friends and most people at the club didn't share the same idea.

You just wanted to enjoy the view and keep the party going but you were worried, maybe this was too much.

“we’ve got to live for the moment,” Ariel grinned, taking a shot of something that made her eyes water. “Who cares if we’re in a foreign country surrounded by dangerous people? It’s the best kind of chaos. When else are we gonna do this?”

Somehow you ended up on a private yacht again, this time surrounded by Ibiza’s elite. You weren’t sure how many shots of tequila you’d had, but you knew that the man at your side had given you a diamond bracelet to match your dress. You accepted with a grin asking him to put it on for you, your hair wild, your makeup smudged from hours of dancing, but it didn’t matter. You were untouchable.

It was getting close to 3 AM, and the music hadn’t stopped. The drinks kept flowing, and the Duke’s yacht you somehow ended up on was finally leaving the dock. You couldn’t remember how you ended up on the boat, but you were there now, floating on a million-dollar boat with peopl you’d only seen on TV. One of the men from the night before was already making eye contact, his glass of sangria in hand.

It was hard to be shy in a setting like this. Rory, who’d never been afraid of attention, was deep in conversation with a couple of supermodels who were likely on their third or fourth drink. Claire was wrapped up in a flirtation with the duke who owned this yacht, and Arie was in her own world, laughing with a group of guys who were definitely not short on cash.

The next morning, you woke up on the yacht, the sun blazing over the Mediterranean. You stretched lazily, your body still buzzing from the night before, and found yourself face-to-face with the man from last night.

He smirked, “Care for another round?” he asked, his accent thick, the sound of the waves crashing against the boat providing an oddly peaceful background.

You laughed and agreed. It was all so easy, this life. This endless, carefree abandon. No rules, no family to answer to, no obligations. It was just you, your friends, and a bunch of gorgeous strangers who only saw you for the party girl you had become. And for now, that was enough.

Next, Monaco, the grandest of them all. You didn’t just go to Monaco, you ruled it. You, Ariel, Claire and Rory crashing the most exclusive gala in the world; rich industrialists, F1 drivers ,tech moguls, the faces that appeared on the front of every magazine. But to you, it was just another game to play. Every conversation was a carefully curated performance, everyone vying for your attention, for your approval.

The days blurred together. Each city more beautiful, each party more decadent than the last. Monaco was wild, filled with the world’s elite and their very bored children. The private yacht parties were nothing short of a movie set, jet skis, champagne, drugs, and the sun beating down relentlessly. The thrill of it all never left, and every night you found a new billionaire, actor, or race car driver to distract you. It wasn’t about them, not really, it was about keeping the power in your hands, it was about feeling good. Taking away the pain that came with your powers, fortunately, men were jumping into your bed.

You didn’t even have to try. One wink, one smile, and suddenly you were in a Bentley, whisked away to a private after-party in a hidden corner of Monaco’s coastline. The prince of some oil-rich kingdom was at your side, and the night was long, filled with laughter and stolen kisses under the stars. You didn’t care what his name was, where he came from, or who he was, he was just another prince who could buy you anything you wanted.

You met guy, almost as rich as Bruce, who you beat at poker, he was more than happy to throw a yacht party in your honor. The invitation was clear: “Come party with us. No rules. No limits.”

Ariel had already decided to make a game of seeing how many men she could flirt before sunset, while Rory was doing her usual thing, charming people with her wit. You, on the other hand, had become the center of attention, as if the whole event was designed around you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a conversation that didn’t involve someone trying to buy you a drink, or a private island.

As the weeks stretched on, you could barely keep track of all the cities you had visited. You spent one night in Berlin, dancing until dawn in one of the city’s most infamous clubs. The next, you were in Milan, draped in designer clothing and laughing with the most influential fashion people in the world. Every day felt like a new chapter, filled with new people, new parties, and a new sense of power.

It was intoxicating. Everyone loved you here, you were the life of every party. You had so many friends, you'd never be alone again.

There was something so exhilarating about being surrounded by people who knew your last name, who were used to rubbing elbows with people like Bruce Wayne, but didn’t realize you were his daughter.

You felt it in your bones now, the distance between you and Gotham was growing wider. The weight of the past, the guilt that had once threatened to crush you, was nothing more than a distant memory. Each city, each new face, each new party was a reminder that you didn’t need them. You didn’t need anyone.

But deep down, something shifted. Maybe it was the late-night conversations with Ariel on the balcony of a villa in Santorini, the wine flowing freely as you discussed the future, her dreams, your dreams, how you’d never go back to the way things were. Maybe it was the quiet moments alone on the edge of some private infinity pool, staring out at a horizon that seemed endless and just… empty.

You didn’t know when you started to feel it, but you knew one thing for sure: when you finally did come back to Gotham, you weren’t going to be the same person who had left.

The Final Stop, St. Tropez. You did a full circle. Your last hurrah before you returned home, or where your family assumed you were all this time. The private beach parties, the yachts that lined the harbor, the whispers of billionaires in their private jets. You danced in the sand, surrounded by flashes from cameras and jealous glares from women who had no idea who you were, but wanted to be you all the same.

A private villa awaited you, and there, amidst the most extravagant décor, you found yourself facing yet another prince, yet another man eager to claim you as his own.

You turned to find a prince—probably from denmark—standing next to you. You immediately recognized his face from magazines. He was the one who was always pictured at galas with his equally famous family. He was beautiful, dark-haired and dangerous, with a body like chiseled stone. But the only thing you could think about was how long it would take before you got bored of him, before you moved on to the next.

His thick accented voice cut through your thoughts, "Well, if it isn't the infamous party girl." He smirked eyeing you up and down.

"Oh, so you've heard of me" You said smiling. You had no idea how he knew you, all your socials were private and theres no way you had mutual friends. You froze for a second, just how far has your reputation proceeded you, did Bruce hear?

You brushed the thought away as soon as it came, Bruce didn't exist. Not tonight, your last actual night of freedom. Not when you were boarding the flight to gotham after tomorrow.

"Hard not to. You've been everywhere. Paris, London, Ibiza, Monaco, Dubai, Vegas. You're practically the princess of Europe." He grinned leaning closer.

After two months you were finally starting to feel the rush of it all catching up to you. But for now? Who cared? You were a 16-year-old filled with confidence, chaos, and fun. The world was yours, and there was no one who could stop you, least of all, your father, who were still clueless about your whereabouts and secretly obsessing over your every move. You were too busy living in the moment to care about that.

You were officially the European Party Girl, the one everyone wanted to be friends with, the one they all wanted to take selfies with.

Ariel once called you a prince magnet, she wasn't wrong. You woke up next to him the next morning, his strong arms around your waist.

When you went back to Gotham, you weren’t just going to show up. You were going to treat them like they treated you all these years, you were going to laugh in their faces, ignore them like they ignored you.

As you and Ariel spent your last night together packing, you couldn't help but smile. In these two months with her, you lived more than you had in your entire life.

When you boarded the plane back to Gotham, you were different. You were someone new, someone who had tasted freedom and wasn’t sure if she could ever go back. The Waynes had no idea what was coming for them, but you were ready. The game had shifted, and you were about to play it all the way to the end.

Taglist:

@strwberryglass @lilithquillete @delias-stuff @bellatrixmld @damainwayneisthebestrobin @kittzu @lilyalone @yokesmam @sanjisluvbot @facelessisnthere @dollwhite @superstarbucks

@angelunatic @littledollete @cutelittlesugarfairy @darbystrange @sxftiebee @zealous0mouse @trashlanternfish360 @galaxygirlsblog @euphoria-looney @1simpchunkygirl @a-lurking-fae @analuixxy @naturallyspontaneous @horror-lover-69 @pastel-mouse @ladyrosemone @frankie-moon3 @catley1011 @justannie18 @yandereaficionado @ithoughtthinks @asdfghjklgayblog @shadowyknightbeargoth @peche4et3chocolat @boredselkie @rogueofbullshit @iamabeaner @rosesunderthegarden @nommingonfood @ninihrtss @type-ink @iamabeaner @astterrial @awawage @ironsaladwitch @boredselkie @rogueofbullshit @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @rosesunderthegarden @raging-stars @sulleha @s1mppp

[boltonbritreads]

🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Thanks as usual for reading.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 

The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  

They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 

As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 

“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 

“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 

“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 

“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 

“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 

“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 

“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 

“Hey!” 

“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 

“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  

“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 

“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 

“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  

You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 

“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 

“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 

You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 

“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 

“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 

“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 

“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 

“You told him that but...” 

“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 

“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 

“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 

“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 

“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 

“They were old?” 

“They match his energy,” he snorts. 

You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 

💟

There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 

The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 

Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 

It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  

You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 

Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 

You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 

As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 

The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 

“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 

You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 

“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 

There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 

The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.

Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 

He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 

You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 

He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  

You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 

“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 

“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 

“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 

“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 

“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.” 

“The river?” 

“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 

“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 

“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 

“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 

“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 

He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 

“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 

“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 

“You’ve been here a while?” 

“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 

“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 

“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 

“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 

You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 

“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 

“You think it’ll hold out?” 

“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 

“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 

“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 

“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 

“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 

“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 

“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 

You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 

“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 

“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 

“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 

“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 

“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 

“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 

You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 

“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.” 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 52

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,160ish

Summary: Logan and Wade save your timeline. But where does that leave you and Laura?

Notes: Second update today! Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

As soon as the portal closed and Alioth disappeared, you spun around to face Cassandra.

“What did you mean when you said you could fix my fire problem?” You asked.

Cassandra smirked. “Yes, your phoenix abilities are supposed to kill your powers off over time, but it’s too soon,” she explained. “Something—or someone, played with your mind and is blocking your full ability.”

Your mind searched for what could have possibly happened that messed with your brain. You gasped as you came to the only possible solution. “Charles. His seizures.”

“Bingo.”

“Help me. Reverse it.”

Cassandra laughed. “Now, why would I do that? I don’t owe you anything.”

“How about just being a nice person?”

“Ah! Not a chance. Sorry, Ember, hate to see you go like this. Ember’s are rare to begin with but you are one of the more unique ones. Not all of them have your phoenix ability. Too bad it’s been wasted.”

You shouted, your fists forming into flames. You went to punch Cassandra when a wave of pain suddenly hit you. Collapsing to the ground, you were gasping for air as the pain took over your whole being.

“Poor, poor, Ember…” Cassandra tsked. She waltzed over and crouched down next to you. “I’ve been masking a majority of your pain since you arrived today. I’ve just let it all free.”

“Mom!” Laura exclaimed, rushing towards you as she finally was able to get to you. She knelt beside you and pulled you into her. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“May want to get her out of here, X-23. She’s going to be feeling that pain for a long time. She’s going to need her rest.”

~~~

Logan and Wade arrived in Wade’s world, only to quickly having to deal with Paradox and, once again, Cassandra. Plus Cassandra’s army of Deadpools from The Void. After Wade’s Peter showed up and distracted the army of Deadpools, Wade and Logan found themselves threatening Paradox and then down below the substation to the chamber that the Time Ripper’s energy was coming from. Wade and Logan worked together to destroy the Time Ripper, surprising Paradox when they survived. One of the heads of the TVA, B-15, was there, confronting Paradox.

“He has risen, baby girl!” Wade announced as he and Logan, who had lost the upper part of his suit, maybe their reappearance. “Found your new anchor being.”

Logan pulled his mask off. “And we’re doing just fine, you piece of shit,” he stated.

“Fine indeed,” a woman TVA agent commented.

“Alright,” Wade sighed. “Put your greasy tits away, you preening slut.” He grabbed a nearby jacket and handed it to Logan. “Y/N’s not even here.”

“I don’t understand,” Paradox shook his head. “How are you two still alive?”

“You were right. One of us would have been killed.” Logan handed off his mask to a nearby agent as he slipped the jacket on and Wade spoke. “But you put a Deadpool and a Wolverine together, make ‘em hold hands while listening to Madonna… indestructible, motherfucker.”

“Let’s get this Deadpool Variant back to The Void,” B-15 directed.

“Wait, hold on. What?”

“Nope!” Peter yelled, hurrying inside the sub station. “Actually, this one’s homegrown, like me. He belongs here.”

“And you are?” B-15 questioned.

“Peterpool. But you can call me Peter… And I hope that you do.” The tension grew in the air as the two stared at each other, clearly making a connection.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” Paradox exclaimed.

“You are under judgment,” B-15 said, turning to face Paradox, “for operating an unsanctioned Time Ripper. Time him.”

“I was just doing what you don’t have the guts to do!” Agents grabbed Paradox and dragged him to the open Time Door. “Get your insolent hands off me!” Wade blew him a kiss. “Get off!” Then he went through the door.

“I’m grateful, gentlemen,” B-15 told Wade and Logan. Wade bowed. “Let’s hold the bows. You led an Omega-level mutant to this timeline.” 

“You’re welcome,” Wade said.

“And you,” B-15 focused on Logan, “shouldn’t even be near this timeline.”

“He’s welcome.”

B-15 turned back to Peterpool. “And you look damn good in that suit.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter responded.

The device B-15 was holding began beeping. She brought it up and looked at it in surprise. “I wanna show you something. Something huge.”

“That’s what scoutmaster Kevin used to say,” Wade whispered.

“Do you see that?” B-15 lifted the device, showing a moving line. “Your universe is regenerating. Whatever you did here, you not only saved your world. You spared your timeline from extinction. I’d rest up. I have a feeling your work is only just getting started.”

“Til you’re 90,” Wade whispered close to Logan’s face. “Wait! Um… We couldn’t have made it out of The Void without some help from some people that the world kind of… kind of forgot. Is there any way that you could maybe find a way to bring them home?”

“Two of them belong in this timeline,” Logan added. “Y/N and Laura. They should be allowed to go home.”

B-15 nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

“And, um,” Wade continued, “I promised my friend here that the TVA could undo some pretty awful shit in his timeline. What would you say to that?”

“Change the past?”

“Well, he did help me save the world.”

“And his past made him the man who did it. There’s nothing to fix, Mr. Wilson. Logan. But, we can see what we can do about keeping Logan here and bringing back Y/N and Laura.”

~~~

Laura was able to find a nearby building to get you to. The pain had you crying and your mind was fuzzy. Laura was on the verge of tears as she tried to do anything that could take your pain away. She knew that you shouldn’t have fought, but she had thought you were okay. She hated that she hadn’t realized sooner and that Cassandra had been messing with your mind. 

A swish sounded nearby and an orange Time Door opened up. Laura stood over you, with her claws out, ready to attack whoever was coming. She relaxed slightly when she saw that it was Logan and Wade, but tensed when a TVA member, B-15, followed them.

“You’re welcome, little wolf!” Wade exclaimed. “We’re bringing you and Buttercup home!”

You cried out in pain, not knowing what was going on around you. Everyone’s eyes snapped to you.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, stepping forward to see you better from around Laura.

“Her powers,” Laura said, “they’ve begun to cause her pain. She hasn’t used them like that in years and apparently Cassandra was dulling the pain. Now, she’s feeling it all.”

“Bring her,” B-15 ordered. “We can help at the TVA and then talk about next steps.”

Logan didn’t even think twice before he was at your side, scooping you up in his arms.

“James?” You breathed out, your mind planning tricks on you.

Logan tripped over his feet as his unused name fell from your lips. He looked at Laura with wide eyes.

“She called my dad that often,” the young woman explained.

Logan nodded, readjusting you carefully in his grip before walking through the Time Door. Wade looked over at Laura.

“I have a feeling that this is going to be a great partnership,” he told her. She growled, shoving her claws into his side as she walked past. “Ow! Hey! Okay!”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to my dad’s body,” Laura said lowly. 

“Yeah, can’t wait until you and Buttercup team-up against me. Seriously, I’ll be thinking about it all the time now.”

The Time Door took you all to a conference room in the TVA. Logan placed you on the large table and stepped back. Laura took her place in a chair at your side. A TVA agent in a lab coat entered the room.

“What are you going to give her?” Logan asked, eyeing the syringe.

“It’s something that will ease the pain,” B-15 explained. “It won’t fix anything, but it will help.”

Everyone watched as the agent inserted the needle into your arm and you almost immediately relaxed. Your brain cleared up, allowing you to see that you were no longer in The Void.

“Laura?” You rasped.

“I’m here, mom,” she said, grabbing your hand and moving so that you could see her better.

“Where are we?”

“The TVA!” Wade exclaimed. “Like from the Loki series!”

“These two saved your timeline,” B-15 explained. “They wanted to give you the opportunity to go back to your timeline.”

“Okay…” You breathed out. “Why do I feel like that’s not the end of it?”

“You and Laura have a choice to make. The two of you can go back to 2034, when you were pruned, or you both can go to 2024 with this Logan and Wade with heavy stipulations.”

“And what would those be?”

“Both you and Laura exist already in 2024, just younger versions of you, and the timeline’s original Logan is also still alive. The three of you would not be allowed to get close to the other versions of you. Not even one warning. You will be pruned and sent back to The Void immediately.”

“Come on, guys!” Wade exclaimed. “We could all live in my apartment with my roommate, Al! It would be one large sleepover!”

You looked over at Laura. “What do you want to do, kiddo?” You asked. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

She looked around at Logan and Wade before focusing back on you. “Well… we don’t have anyone back in 2034. It’s just us… This could give us another chance. If you’re okay with that, mom. I know that it will be hard knowing that dad—“

“Sweetie, if this is what you want, I’ll do it. You’re my priority.”

Laura nodded. “I want to go back to 2024.”

“Then we’re going back.”

“Yay!” Wade exclaimed. “We’re going to have to throw a party!” Logan rolled his eyes. “Now, who is hungry?”

Logan chuckled. “I could eat.”

~~~

The street had been destroyed, but the shawarma place hadn’t. Wade, Logan, you, and Laura were all stuffed onto a bench in front of the place, eating your shawarma.

“You know, the Avengers discovered shawarma,” Wade commented.

“They’d be lucky to have you,” Logan said.

A dog barking in the distance caught all of your attentions. You looked over to see a small dog dressed in a Deadpool suit with its tongue hanging out to the side. It wasn’t a very cute dog at all. 

“Oh!” Wade exclaimed, throwing his shawarma down.

“Oh, come on,” Logan grumbled. “Fuck off!”

Wade excitedly clapped. “Come here, my little cunchkin.” The dog ran right up to Wade, who quickly picked it up. “You’re a survivor. Mwah.” He kissed the top of the dogs head. “Oh, all is right in the world. Between Mary Puppins and eating shawarma with my favorite hero, Ember.”

“Wade,” you scoffed. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, I knew a Wade Wilson, years ago.”

“Oh, that dumb fucker! Yeah, wannabe Deadpool doppelgänger slipped into this timeline somehow. But, trust me, he’s dead.”

“Good to know,” you nodded. You glanced at Logan, whose eyes were on you already. He quickly looked away, taking another bite of his shawarma. “So, Logan,” you fidgeted nervously beside him, “what are you going to do next?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he responded, briefly meeting your gaze. “I always do.”

“So, we’ll see you around?” Wade wondered. 

“Probably not.” He reached over and scratched the top of Mary Puppins head. “See you, bub.” He gathered his things and stood up, heading down the street.

You couldn’t help but watch him walk away and think back to the moment Cassandra had you in his mind. He said that he always walked away, but you had yet to see that from him. This Logan had always shown up, just like your Logan. He just needed people who had faith in him.

“Wait,” you called out, standing up. “Logan!”

Logan froze upon hearing your voice call out for him. It wasn’t the first time it had as he walked away, but this time he allowed himself to look back. You were standing there, a slightly hopeful look in your eyes. Would he seriously turn his back on you again? He knew that you knew some of what he had done, Cassandra had forced that upon you. But he didn’t see any pity or hatred in your eyes.

You could feel your fingers tingling with your power as you held your breath, waiting to see what Logan would do. You watched as he fully turned around and slowly walked back, eyes locked on you. He stopped in front of you.

“You didn’t walk away,” you breathed out, feeling relieved. Despite you barely knowing this Logan, you couldn’t bare to see him alone.

“I didn’t walk away.”

next chapter >

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Epilogue: Sweet Taste

prev | masterlist

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: How it all boiled down.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 1k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: mentioned death, violence, weapons

a/n: and with this, we've reached the end of supercharged!! that is surreal to me🤯here's a reminder to those of you who may have already reblogged the masterlist to keep on your blog for reference (I'm honoured!), you may want to reblog it again now it's completed so all the links are there! since reblogged posts aren't updated on this wonderful site lol🤡 I also want to give a sincere thank you to everyone who had read, especially those who left even a single comment, reblog, tag or ask. this story was a lot of work but also a lot of fun and I'm so happy now I finally shared it! to hear anyone enjoyed it makes it all worth it😊you guys are the absolute best! I hope you enjoyed the ride, though there's still the epilogue to go👀 let me know what your favourite moment of this series has been!💜💜

“More information has emerged after celebrated hero, Bolt, was found murdered in his home yesterday. Another beloved hero, Monsoon, also fell in the same battle.

“The anonymous attackers, who many theorists have already connected with the lair attacked by a monster earlier the same day, have sent several records to our studio, apparently taken from Bolt’s home. They have… requested that we display these on air.”

The screen cut away from the reporter’s face to a series of photographs. Weapons laid out, one by one, labelled in Namjoon’s handwriting with the locations they were stolen from, and the purpose each one served.

Next, a map with several red crosses marked on it; the places Bolt had attacked, and several more he planned to. Your home was one of them.

There were other files on the drive Jin had mailed to them. Detailing Bolt’s plans, his building of weapons and allowing them to be used to justify his ‘confiscation’. Jin had been careful not to record too much, but it painted a grim picture nonetheless. Had Bolt been preparing to rule the city?

You knew there would be people out there who would never shake their star-studded image of Bolt. But there would be others ready to see him for the monster he was. All that mattered was that you had all shaken up the grip he held over this city.

The last clip that jumped on screen was from only the night before. Of course, Bolt had cameras. And, in the end, it had turned out to be most useful to you.

“Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

The dark, fuzzy image shifted into static. The next voice was your own.

“You did this to me.”

Another cut.

“You were nothing before I gave them to you…”

It faded to black again. Good. It was past time for the people to start questioning the man they had idolised for too long. The man who would have thrown their lives away, too, the moment they happened to be in his way.

The reporter’s face returned, looking grave.

“This has left citizens wondering: who was Bolt really? Was he truly as heroic as he seemed?

“But it remains to be seen how we can stay safe in the wake of his demise.

“Next up, we report from the scene of a spate of attacks in the early hours since the hero’s death was announced. And stay tuned to hear from the families who say their loved ones died needlessly when working for Bolt-”

The screen flashed off and you turned to find Hope lowering the remote, hand on hip.

“Good to know the tv still works!” he beamed.

Snorting, you followed him over to the kitchen. The table had been set upright again. All in all, the scene was only partially being lit by the hole in the roof, most of which Jimin had already pieced back together.

An intimidating amount of dust and debris remained to be cleared, but you were sure Yoongi would just hide it by making the space look extra bright and fresh until someone could be bothered to pick up a vacuum cleaner (which may well be buried itself).

Oh yes – Yoongi. You were sure he would be playing his usual lighting tricks again… once he was strong enough. After seeing to Bolt’s fate, he was the first place you had all run to. Hobi and V had already been at his side. You remembered the crushing dread in your chest at seeing their faces, the tightness with which you squeezed Jungkook’s hand.

All you had to do to quell the memory of that feeling was cast your eyes over your white-haired friend. He sat at the table, sagging a little wearily onto his elbows, but grinning begrudgingly up at a giggling Jin and Jimin.

He was alright.

Jungkook sat across from the injured Yoongi, staring just as intently. You knew the protective fire that burned in him for his team, because the same one lived in you. And you had walked through that fire enough times, finally ending up on the right side of it.

Sliding into the seat beside him, you wordlessly put your hand on his back. Let it drift to circle his waist.

Jungkook’s fingers loosened their death grip on his mug, gaze shifting to you. You felt his sigh more than heard it, his back relaxing where you held it. Together you shared a smile.

Although perhaps it wasn’t quite as private as you first thought, because a second later Jin was thumping another mug loudly onto the tabletop. Jumping, you sheepishly turned away from Jungkook and accepted the drink Jin pushed towards you.

“Right!” The eldest clapped his hands to gather attention now that you were all here. “Y/N and I have made some good progress checking inventory. The ceiling seems to be… looking up!” (you all groaned as he erupted into his squeaky laugh) “We’ll be settled back in in no time – with no one to bother us.”

“Quite,” Namjoon agreed. For perhaps the first time, when he turned to face you, you were certain you read pride there. “With Bolt and Monsoon out of the picture, we’ll let Pheonix take their place.”

“So, nothing much to worry about at all!” Jimin chimed in, to a round of chuckles. Even Namjoon gave him an indulgent smile.

A grin of your own on your face, you sipped your drink, welcoming its flavour which nestled beside the sweet taste of revenge curled in your gut. Even with a gap letting fresh air in through the roof, you felt warm all over. Mostly from the heat of the arm pressed against yours.

You couldn’t imagine keeping your distance from Jungkook ever again. Having been victim of his fierce fight so many times, you knew you could always rely on it now he stood by your side.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey💜What was your favourite moment?

<prev | masterlist

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@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook @wifflepuff1344 @ot7stansthings

@thesmeraldogirl @fr0ggieth1nk

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 2 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: ask and you shall receive! i still don't have a set drop date for this chapter, but i wanted to post this short teaser for y'all anyway since you've been waiting so patiently. i am so thankful for all of the love i'm getting for this series already!!! chapter one is almost at 500 notes which is SO insane. i get so stupidly giddy every time i receive a reply, reblog, or an ask about this series! feedback and interaction keep me writing and i am so looking forward to what all of you think of this teaser. reminder that you can track the tag 'glossdebut updates' to stay updated on drop dates/word counts/etc.!

P.S. just like with all of my teasers, wording is subject to change when the chapter actually comes out <3

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 481 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

@yoongiphoria @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @this-most-assuredly-counts @sugafun @binniesbabe

@1800lxcifrrr @whoa-jo @amarawayne @kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @angellekookie

@jalexad @tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @notsevenwithyou

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mild sexy stuff (Just some very light hand business. Very light.)

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: You moved out of the Tower :(

A/N: This is it! The last part! You guys. I can't even. It's been a magical journey, and I'm so honored that I got to take it with all of you. I'm scheduling this post on Thursday in my office, and I'm fucking crying, because you've made this more than anything I could have ever hoped for. I love each and every one of you, so fucking much. Thank you for coming on this adventure with me. Thank you for loving Pocket. Thank you for sticking with Bucky and not throwing knives at him and his stupidity. Just, fucking THANK YOU. You are all amazing, beautiful people, and I could not have done this without you. Thirty Chapters, One Hundred Fifty Five Thousand, Four Hundred and Fourteen Words, and more to come. Bucky and Pocket's journey is not over! POOKIE LOVES YOU SO MUCH.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

Not even twenty minutes later– it was actually almost pathetic how close your new place was to the Tower, really– you were opening up the door of your brand new penthouse apartment. It was more extravagant than any other place you’d ever laid your head, and when Tony’s realtor had first shown it to you, you’d balked at the opulence of it. But Tony reminded you that you’d been shot, after all, and had almost died once, then actually died, all in the span of a few days, and after that, on top of everything else you had already endured in your life, wasn’t it time you treated yourself to something good? Besides, it wasn’t like you couldn’t afford it. So, here you were.

“Honey, I’m home,” you called out softly to the enormous, empty space. It would still be some time before the movers finished loading up and delivering everything from the Tower, and then you were going to have a lot of furniture shopping to do. Toeing off your shoes, you padded your way across the apartment to the terrace. Opening the glass doors, you stepped outside. You walked to the edge and rested your elbows against the railing. Taking a deep breath, you admired the view of the city before you, the Tower just a block away. Looking across, you could easily make out Tony and Pepper’s apartment. Waving at breakfast, indeed.

You felt a pair of strong arms slink around your midsection, tugging you into a broad, warm chest. “Thought I heard you come in,” Bucky said, nuzzling his head into the crook of your shoulder. 

“Hey, baby,” you smiled, reaching back to caress his face with your hand. You turned in his arms so you were facing him. “I missed you.”

 Bucky laughed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I only left the Tower two hours ago,” he said. “But I missed you, too.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, pouring every ounce of love and affection you felt for him into the motion. “I can’t believe we finally did it,” you grinned.

“Took us long enough,” he mused back, but then turned thoughtful. “Probably would have happened a lot sooner if I hadn’t–”

You brought a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Stop. We agreed not to talk about that, remember? Dr. Whitmore said we can’t move forward if we keep hashing out the past, and I just want to move forward, with you.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, but you just smiled and kissed him again.

After you’d been released from the hospital, you and Bucky had had a long, emotional discussion about the future of your relationship. The only way you’d ever stand a real chance, you’d both decided, was if you committed to couples’ counseling and complete and total honesty. Bucky knew he didn’t deserve yet another chance from you, and you probably wouldn’t have given him one if you hadn’t loved him so fucking much. But you’d actually died, and you couldn’t stand the idea of wasting any more time without him. Now, after nearly a year of doing the work, both on your relationship and yourselves, you felt your connection was stronger than ever. And besides, when it really mattered, Bucky had proven, in the most definitive way, that he would pick you over Jade Carthage.

“So…,” you said once the kiss had been broken and you began playing with the hem of his shirt.

“So, what?” he asked. You raised an eyebrow at him suggestively. His eyes widened as he caught your meaning. “What? Here? Right now?!”

You tilted your head and looked up at him with the most innocent expression you could muster, given how completely un-innocent your current thoughts were. “Yeah, right here, right now. Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough, baby?” You trailed a hand down the center of his chest and his breath hitched. “Almost a full year, spent using my fingers, pretending they were you, never feeling full enough? Never getting off as good as I got off with you? It’s been so long since I felt you inside of me, Buck. So long, it fucking hurts.”

When you had decided to give your relationship a real reset, one of the rules you had established, with the advice of Dr. Whitmore, was no sex. You needed to establish emotional intimacy and boundaries once again, without the complications a sexual relationship would bring. She had even suggested you both try to date other people, to ensure that this was the relationship you both truly wanted, but neither one of you could bring yourselves to do it. And now, here you were, almost a full year since the last time you’d been together, and you were desperate. 

Bucky groaned at your words and you knew he was this close to giving in to you.

“Come on, baby,” you purred, reaching down and slowly unbuckling his belt. “Don’t you want me? Don’t you want to be inside of me?” You slowly began nibbling at his jaw, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin and letting it flood your senses.

“Always want you, Pocket,” he growled, tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you flush against his hips. You let out a low moan when you felt the evidence of his arousal press into your stomach through his jeans. 

“Then have me, Barnes,” you whispered, carding your hands through his hair. “Have me on this balcony, have me on every fucking surface of this apartment, as many times as you want.”

Any remaining sense of resolve Bucky may have possessed snapped, and he was on you, sucking on the skin of your neck as he rutted his hips against you, and it felt so. fucking. good. to feel him like that again. His hand dipped into the waistband of your pants, where he found you wet and eager for him. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he growled into your skin as his fingers slipped through your slick folds to toy with your clit. “All this for me?”

You groaned as you felt one finger gently breach your entrance. “Only you, love,” you moaned. “Only ever you.”

You both froze when you heard the sound of the elevator ding, and Bucky quickly withdrew his hand, popping his finger into his mouth to suck away the evidence of his actions. Grunting in frustration, you looked around him to see the elevator doors open and the movers begin to unload dollies of boxes from the Tower into your new apartment.

“Fuck,” you whispered. “So much for reunion sex. I swear, I’ve got blue balls, Barnes”

Bucky grinned at you, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before redoing his belt and heading over to help the movers. “This’ll only take a little while, doll,” he winked at you. “We’ve got the rest of our lives together to make up for lost time.”

<- Previous Part / The End

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 17 - You got a face with a view

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None, bit angsty

This is a Bucky POV! Bit of a shorter chapter but I thought it might be nice to get some of his insight before we hurtle towards the finish line…

Just to let you know I’m going on vacation early next week for a week, so I’m not sure when the next update will be – so please bear with me! If I don’t manage before, I will post once I’m back w/c 8th July. As always, your reblogs and comments mean the world – thank-you for coming along for the ride!

Bucky sighed heavily as he watched your car become a small dot on the horizon. He couldn’t believe he had found you out here, he was only passing through after dealing with some MC business on the edge of town. What were the chances it would be him to find you, of all the people who drove by this way?

He had been confused to see a car parked up in the middle of nowhere, miles from anything, only to feel bile rising in his throat when he recognised that distinct Mustang.

He thought something might have happened to you, relief crashing over him in waves when he saw your bewildered face staring back at him through the window. He managed to maintain his composure even when he saw the beginnings of a bruise on your cheek, despite the rage that simmered in his body. But he could see you were upset, maybe even a little scared, so he managed to push his own feelings aside. He didn’t want to distress you any further, but had a strong idea of who might have led you into this precarious position...

You wouldn’t let him help you. He had half expected it, but he still scoffed that you’d rather stay out here alone than take what was being offered. But…he also kinda got it. He was stubborn too. He understood that you didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him, didn’t want him to think everything between you would now be forgiven.

He didn’t push you. He knew you well enough to understand that badgering you would only strengthen your resolve to stay put.

He just wanted you to be safe.

It didn’t even occur to him to leave. That was never a possibility. He did consider calling the guys and arranging a tow for your car, or for a ride for you, but he thought you might not want him meddling without asking. And he knew you wouldn’t want your car taken back to his auto shop, wouldn’t want another link to him – and you might think he’d done it on purpose to get you to talk to him.

Fixing Sally at roadside was his best bet. Then you would be alright but could still leave on your own accord. He’d tell Steve to bring his toolbox and he’d try his luck with you in the morning. Maybe Steve could throw in some food and water, too. You’d need it after sleeping in a car all night.

He had grimaced about his bed (or lack thereof) for the evening, but he’d done worse. It was one night. And it was worth it for watching over you and keeping you safe.

He wasn’t worried about passersby or getting jumped, his reputation preceded him enough that nobody within a 100-mile radius would dare even approach him if they saw him here.

It had sucked. It had been shit. He probably got two or three hours' sleep, max, but he’d done it. And as you gawped at him the next day, still beautiful in the morning light even though you were bruised and dishevelled, he knew it had all been worth it. And it had warmed him slightly that he’d caught a glimpse of awe in your eyes when you realised what he’d done for you.

Every part of him wanted to follow you as you got back into the car, to tell you how he really felt and how deep his feelings really were. Your casual relationship was never just casual to him. He had fallen for you, hard, maybe since day one. He had tried to fight it, tried to remind himself that it always had an expiration date and he shouldn't fall too deep... but being with you was the most natural thing in the world to him. Watching you smile at the bar, stolen glances across the room, waking up with you in his arms…they were some of the happiest days of his life.

That was partly why he was so upset when he thought you’d stolen, it had broken his heart as well as his trust. He’d always had a problem with impulsivity, with flying off the handle, giving into urges and emotions without thinking it through. Maybe part of him wanted to sabotage what the two of you had so it would be easier when you eventually left him. He had a few ideas like that, but still didn't fully understand why he did it. But he knew for certain, checking that purse was the biggest mistaken he’d ever made. He had to live with that. He understood that.

But maybe he should tell you all this. What did he have to lose, really? You were leaving, anyway. Once that house was on the market it was game over. It would be snatched up quickly, and then you’d be gone from this town, and his life, forever. At least he’d know if he’d done everything he could, he wouldn’t be an old man on his porch years later wistfully wondering if things could’ve been different had he told you the truth.

No. That wasn’t fair. To truly love you means respecting your wishes, and letting you go. Even if it hurts every fibre of his being to do so. Even if he’s desperate to grab you and kiss you every time he’s in close proximity to you. It would be selfish of him to dump his feelings on you like that. If he’d learnt anything from the misery of the last few months, it was that he needed to put you first – even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

He could live with the pain. He’d managed it so far. He had suffered and he would continue to suffer. This was his punishment, for not trusting you, for not believing you. It would follow him to his grave.

There had been nobody else since. No Amber. None of the girls at the bar. Sure, he’d had offers, but he simply wasn’t interested. They’d only remind him that they weren’t you.

When he heard about Quill, it felt like he'd taken a bullet to the gut. Actually, it felt worse than that. Bucky had been shot a couple of times and he'd happily take another bullet over that specific brand of pain. It was more painful than when he lost his arm. He nearly vomited on the spot when Steve told him. Since then, he had been a shadow of his former self, even if he (mostly) put on a good front to continue his role as President.

None of it mattered. You were selling up and moving on, and all that was left to do was let you go. You can’t keep a bird in a cage just because you don’t want to lose it. Keeping something that doesn’t want to be kept means you never really had it in the first place.

He had told you he wouldn’t touch Quill, but he seethed inwardly as he thought about the unsightly bruise and how it got there. How you ended up in your heels and evening dress at the side of the road. You had warned him not to do anything, and he wouldn’t. He respected your wishes. But once you’d gone? Well. That might be a different story. He already knew where Quill worked. Where he lived. Where he hung out. Who his friends were. The statute of limitations on Bucky’s promise to you would run out the day you left him forever.

He cranked his aching neck and pumped his metal arm back in place as he got back on his bike. Life must go on.

But he had one thing left to do.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Little Lamb

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x f!reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, creepy behaviour, dark au, angst, sexual acts are mentioned, being drugged, fear, shy timid reader (for now).

Summary: You’ve been kidnapped by the head of the Martell family as he seeks his revenge. What you don’t know is that he already has a soft spot for you.

A/N: the updates are gonna be short but I’m hoping to have two parts posted a week, all going well. I'm still getting back into the swing of writing after my nan passing so bare with me.

Series Masterlist

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The air was damp. 

That’s the first thing you notice as you startle awake. A musty smell infiltrates your senses as you suck in a breath. Your head feels heavy and the room spins a little as you slowly open your eyes. 

It was small, too small to be considered an actual room and the stark lack of furniture or windows, made it feel more like a cell. The cot creaked below you as you slowly sat up and looked around. The thin blanket pooling around your waist. Where the fuck were you?

“Ah, you're awake. Good. Thought I might have given you too much and accidentally killed you. And that wouldn’t do at all.” His voice echoed throughout the room and the pain in your head throbbed harder behind your eyes. 

“You drugged me,” you stuttered, your body shaking violently as the cold air chilled you to the bone. The man, whose hair was tied back, stood towering over you with a devilish smirk on his face. 

“That I did, princess. You were trashing about too much, and I needed to get you here fast.” His eyes trail the length of your body and bile rises in your throat as he lets out a satisfied groan. 

“Aren’t you a pretty thing? Can think of loads of things I’d like to do to you.” You're consumed with fear as he steps closer and you push yourself further up the cot towards the wall, hoping somehow it would save you from his lewd gaze. 

“Please,” you plead as he bends down and reaches out his hand to trace his fingers along your jaw. 

“Please what? Fuck you? Grab your face and shove my dick down your….”

“Enough!” You startle as a deep baritone voice sounds from the doorway, sending a shiver down your spine. You let your eyes drift towards the man, and you recognise him from earlier. You don’t think you’d ever be able to forget those soulful brown eyes that reminded you of a hot cup of coffee on a cold morning. 

 His face is stern as he stands staring at the other man’s back, his fists clenched at his sides. “Get out. Now!”

As you turn your gaze back to the man in front of you, you find him staring at you, a look of pure hatred on his face. He huffs. Annoyed that he was interrupted but he stands up and nods his head at the other man before leaving. 

“Here,” brown eyes says as he hands you, his jacket. “Put it on. You look cold.” The features of his face have softened somewhat, and his eyes take you in as you reach out and take it from him. 

“Tha-thanks,” you stammer, the cold air of the damp room making it hard to talk. It’s miles too big but it’s warm and that’s what matters. Wrapping it around yourself you take in a deep breath as its warmth slowly seeps into you, the faint smell of cinnamon and strawberries fills your senses, and you wonder if this is what he smells like.

“Do you know who I am?” He asks as he stands above you, arms crossed over each other, legs shoulder width apart, oozing dominance. He must be the leader you think to yourself as you take him in. 

He’s very handsome. 

Dark hair that curls slightly at the nape of his neck. A slight beard with a moustache that seems slightly outdated, but he wears it well. And his eyes.

 Those brown orbs that seem to captivate you, remind you of the whiskey your father drinks. “Do you know who I am?” He asks again, voice laced with annoyance as he stares down at you. 

Gulping nervously, you shake your head and you know you’ve said the wrong thing when he narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know who I am? Interesting. Unfortunately for you, I know who you are. Y/N Lannister. Daughter of Tywin Lannister.”

“What do you want from me? Why am I here?” You ask, voice still a little shaky. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the room, widening in shock as he sits on the cot beside you. His eyes trace the length of your curves before they meet your gaze. 

“Your father took something from me. Something precious that I can never get back and so I’ve repaid the favour by taking something from him. You. I admit you’re not who I was hoping for, but turns out, you are even more precious to him than your sister.”

“I don’t understand, what did he take? Please, I don’t know what he did but you have to let me go. I’m not like them, I promise.” 

He laughs. A deep belly laugh that has him holding his hand to his stomach and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. You reach out and place your hand on his thigh but the minute your palm touches him, you instantly regret it. 

His laughter stops and his eyes narrow as his gaze drifts to where you're touching him. Fear creeps in again and as you try to pull your hand away, he grabs onto your wrist. 

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” He snarls, his eyes boring into you and you nod your head frantically.

“I’m sorry. Please,” you beg as you try to pull your wrist free. His grip only tightens, and your breathing becomes ragged causing his eyes to drift to your chest where his jacket has fallen open, revealing the curve of your breast. His eyes darken as they stare at your pebbled nipples, now on full display through your dress. 

“Please, you’re hurting me.” The sound of your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he quickly releases you as if he’s been burned. His face, now void of emotion, looks straight at you. 

“I’m hurting you. That was nothing, little lamb. But you touch me again, and I’ll show you what I’m capable of.”

He stands, towering over you once again and you can’t help but shake with fear. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be. Your father murdered my sister and her children and if he doesn’t give me what I want, I’m going to kill every Lannister, starting with you.” With that he turns and makes his way towards the door but when a sob escapes your lips he stops in his tracks.

 His shoulders tense beneath his dark shirt and he glances at you from over his shoulder. “I’m not in the habit of hurting women, so if you do what you're told, you’ll be fine.”

“Funny, considering you just threatened to kill me,” you snipe back at him, and you swear you see the hint of a smile on his face before he reaches for the door. 

“Behave little lamb, and I’ll let you out of this room. Don’t, and you’ll stay here to rot.” The door closes behind him with a bang before you hear the faint sound of the lock. Fuck!

Your father killed his sister? You don’t believe it. He wouldn’t do such a thing. Or would he?

Part 2

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

[twiniverse]

Temple Redesign for Twiniverse fan project thingy

Since I'm redoing a lot of old pages, it's probably time to update the Temple Fusion. Considering it's just an Obsidian made with Rose, Pearl, Jasper, Peridot, and Lapis... and then I just took out Jasper's gem and added Amethyst and Ruby... that's kind of boring. She's beautiful imo but she's just not unique to Twiniverse.

Sooooo I'm going to be redesigning her. And her name will be Onyx, based on black onyx with white and golden markings. She'll have some kind of crown that has both Pearl and Peridot's gems... and I'm thinking of maybe making her somewhat... cryptid-ish? Like a mothman kind of thing but less... animalistic?

Anyway I'm telling y'all this because... I am not good at designing monsters lol. That's a big reason I didn't redesign Obsidian to begin with. Soooooooooo what I'm gonna do is I'm gonna ask you guys for ideas.

This is not a contest. There will be no prizes. But I WILL reblog every "entry" and show them off later in a livestream.

Just kind of a fun thing. I most likely won't choose any one design, it will just really help me solidify a design by having lots of new ideas from fans!

All you need to do is make a post with your ideas, which can be something you've drawn or just a bunch of reference pictures and a description of what you think Onyx would look like. She does NOT have to be based on Obsidian or the Twiniverse Obsidian. She also does NOT have to have any design components I mentioned above (the crown, the cryptid thing, etc). Just whatever you personally feel like the fusion would look like =)

@ me in the post and tag it 'twiniverse' and I'll add it to a list of all the ideas I've got! And when I start getting the feeling I've gotten an idea of what the final product will be I will do a livestream and feature all of the suggestions as I work on the concepts for Onyx.

Just as a reminder, here are the five components! (Technically six lol). The outfits aren't important, so don't feel like you have to tick too close to them. And, just in case you want it, here's the OG Twiniverse Temple, but remember any design you might have does NOT need to be based off of this.

I just thought this all would be fun! Something to let people feel like they're apart of Twiniverse in some way. I understand that without prizes a lot of people won't want to join, and that's completely fine. I get it! And I won't be upset whether I get "entries" or not.

Thank you all once again for your patience and all that jazz. I'm trying to still be active even while I'm swamped with a million other things, and throwing myself into Art Fight on top of it, lol. Love all my followers! See you soooooon!

(AND IF I DON'T GIVE YOUR POST A LIKE/REBLOG AFTER A FEW DAYS PLEASE MESSAGE ME, I MAY HAVE MISSED IT. The like will signify it's in a queue)

[did-i-do-this-write]

Writer’s Round Table

Welcome to the table! An on-going writeblr event designed to encourage forum-like discussions about writing and our stories!

This is an idea that I had last year, but I didn’t quite have a good format worked out yet. This year, I’m going to re-vamp it. Instead of picking set topics every month, I’m going to let you guys decide what we talk about!

To start a discussion…

Send me an ask that includes something about your writing and a question related to what you shared! You could share some backstory/the reason you thought of the question or you could share specific details about your WIP and ask about the details of other’s WIPs, etc. The content of the ask is completely up to you, as long as it includes something shared and something asked!

For my part…

I’ll post your ask with my response which will include a response to what you shared, my answer to your question, and another question to follow it up!

The community…

Will then continue the chain by reblogging and answering in the same response-answer-question format, continuing the chain for anyone who wants to join the discussion and share their personal experiences!

Reminders

You can start as many discussions as you’d like! If you think of something to share on one chain that is off topic, consider starting a new discussion by sending an ask of your own.

You can participate on one chain as much as you’d like! If you want to respond once then take your leave, that’s fine. If you want to respond to every addition and keep adding answers and questions, feel free to.

You’re not required to answer in any particular order! If you find a version of the chain with three responses, but you really like the question the first response offered, feel free to grab their reblog and start another chain from there. There’s no strict order to continuing the chain.

My inbox may be closed at times. I will post updates on my blog to let you guys know when it is closed or open for discussions.

There is a taglist! Just let me know that you want to be added by replying to this post, DMing me, or sending an ask. You will be tagged in any discussion thread that gets started for the event.

(Note: There was a taglist for the old format of the round table, but that taglist has been purged. If you were on the old one and wish to be added to this event, please sign up again!)

You can always ask questions about the event! I tried to cover the basics here in this post, but I am only human after all. If you have any clarifying questions, feel free to reblog or reply to this post, DM me, or send me an ask and I’d be happy to answer for you!

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Merry Christmas

I know guys.

Its been forever since I made an official post on here that wasn't a reblog. I made a post a some months ago promising to come back and post slow updates again. When I was in a My Hero Academia obsession era. By the way I'm still low key obsessed I'm on S7, but I slowed down on watching it on purpose. I like to binge and play catch-up with some shows. There's not to many shows out there that I watch weekly. And honestly its not that hard to avoid spoilers when you're not certain social media platforms. Now I'm rambling sorry.

I still thought about you guys and all the stories I started on here reminding myself to finish them. Before quitting this whole Tumblr thing, and no I won't be deleting my page on here. By quitting I mean this account would become a dead one. And the idea feels criminal to me because Tumblr has been such an important part of my life. Since I graduated high school and lost myself in the real world. This community help guide me and provided with happiness and understanding. When I could find very little from IRL people that I called friends and family.

It still does that sometimes which is why I still here and check back in. But I know deep down I don't really feel the same about Tumblr anymore, or maybe its not really Tumblr that's the problem. Honestly these days I use Tumblr and every other site on the internet as a distraction from my life and the challenges in it. Getting so sucked in hoping they might go away while I'm absorbed in my phone, laptop, or TV. That’s not how life works though. I'm starting to realize that and I feel like that's the main reason I pulled away from Tumblr so much this year. I try to live way too much on the internet so it wasn't just Tumblr I took a step back. Its been a lot of other apps and things too.

I know most of you won't read all of this or probably don't care. I just felt like I owed you guys an explanation after all. A lot of you have still continued to show my work love in my absence. I see it and I appreciate every single like and reblog I promise. Life is complicated right now. I have a lot to figure out and work on. I can't promise I'm coming back for good or that I will finish every series or fic I started. But I promise I will do my best and if I do decide to say goodbye forever. I'll let you guys know.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone. I hope everyone had a great day and has an amazing new year. If you don't celebrate Christmas disregard that part.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: cut my life into pieces, this is my worst villain.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Andy shows you to the guest room. It’s big. Much bigger than your own.

Rather, yours is overcrowded with collectible figurines of women in big gowns and books about vintage fashion. When you were less exhausted, you would cut out the pictures and make collages. It’s been ages since you did anything more than lay around. 

He leaves you to take it in. The bed frame is birch, the bedding all white, without a single wrinkle, the nightstands match the bed, and there’s a beige rug across the floor. There’s a book shelf against one wall, a window in the other, and an armchair in the corner. Simple but nice. 

You roll your tank across the floor as you hear Andy coming up the stairs. He peeks in as you turn to see him carrying your mom. He nods as he passes by. A door opens further down the hall. You feel too unsettled to lay down even if you are tired. 

He returns and peers around the door frame as he taps with his knuckles. 

“Here, I just realised you don’t have any clothes here,” he holds a folded tee. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

“Thanks,” you keep your tank on the hardwood as you cross to him. You take the shirt and clutch it under your arm. 

“The bathroom’s right across the hall,” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. “Did you need some water or anything?” 

You shake your head, “thank you. No, I’m alright. Just need to... rest.” 

“Of course. Any extra blankets? The AC too much?” He asks. 

You shrug, “I’m fine.” 

He smiles softly, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be overbearing I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“That’s okay,” you assure him and back up. “Really, I can handle it.” 

“Alright, but please don’t hesitate to ask for anything, alright, sweetheart?” 

You turn and put the shirt on the bed, “okay. Thanks.” 

He lingers in the door. He’s watching you. His gaze hangs over you like a shroud. Slowly, he reaches for the handle and shuts you in. At last, you can breathe. Well... 

You slip the tube from around your nose as you change. You sit as you pull on the tee, keeping your flowery cotton briefs on. You loop the tube around your ears again and set it right. You feel woozy from the effort. 

You turn off the light and shuffle cautiously through the dark. You put your tank to the side of the bed and stretch the tube. You lay down and let your eyes close. Your fatigue descends faster than you expect. 

There’s some noise from outside your walls, but you don’t think much of it as you drift off. You wake up still on your back. You’ve trained yourself not to move much lest you get tangled up. All the water you had with dinner has you squirming. 

You drag yourself up and fix your tube. You stub your toe on the take as you get out of bed and groggily stumble around. For a moment, you go into autopilot and collide with the end of the bed, thinking it to be much smaller. You’re not at home, you remind yourself. 

You wheel the tank behind you and open the door. You cross the hall to the open bathroom and dip inside. You park the wheels under the tank and do what you need to, the seat cold, the tile even colder. 

You wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t do that often. Under your nose is chafed, your lips are chapped, and your eyes are sunken. You’ve never been pretty, just sick. You always wanted to be beautiful like the glass women you kept in your room. You don’t know why you’re thinking of that now. 

You shut off the light before you open the door and step out into the darkness. You don’t get far as you hear a grunt and your tank lurches over a bump. You stop and squeak as the shadow backs up and grumbles. A switch flicks and the overhead light glows. 

You face Andy in surprise, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise--” 

“No, no,” he grimaces and wiggles his foot. “I shouldn’t be creeping around in the dark.” 

He chuckles and pushes back his hair, it’s tussled, and his beard has uneven lines in it. More concerningly, he’s almost naked. He only wears a pair of grey boxers. His chest is thick with hair that trails down his stomach, and his shoulders are rounded with muscles. He somehow seems even bigger in that moment. 

You lean back, about to tip. You’ve never seen a man like that in the flesh. You’ve never been that close to such a bare man. Even when you see it on screen, it makes you squirm and heat up. 

“It’s... It’s... I’m sorry.” 

You turn and hit your tank with your leg. It slips and wobbles before it clunks over. You trip over the wheels and tumble forward. You squeak as a tight vice closes around your arm and keeps you from hitting the floor. 

Andy pulls you steady to your feet and you turn to stare at his hand. He’s touching you. No one touches you. Only your mom and she only does that when she wants to make a show. You stare at his knuckles and he slowly lets go. 

You stand frozen. He bends down to lift the tank back to its wheels and he looks it over. He turns his ear towards it. 

“I don’t hear a leak.” He says. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you insist and grab the handle. “Thanks.” 

“Hey, but what about you, honey? You okay?” 

“Yep,” you cough and veer the tank across the hall with you. 

You don’t look back. You're embarrassed. Especially as you shut the door and realise you’re in little better state than him. You have the tee shirt and your frumpy underwear on. Oh gosh, that’s horrible. He saw you like that. 

💚

You wake up and get dressed in the same clothes you wore the night before. All in all, you’ve been awake for most of the time there. Strange places make you wary. Even hospitals, as often as you’ve been there, keep you on edge. 

After you get your meds from your belt bag, you sit on the bed and stare at the window. Your mom will be up eventually and you’re sure she won’t want to hang around unless Andy is there. He must have work, right? 

You hear movement in the hallway. It could be her. You hope it is. You listen to the footsteps descend the stairs and minutes later return. There’s a back and forth in the hall and through the house once more. Yet you don’t hear voices. 

A knock comes at the door and you make your way over. You’re not surprised to find Andy on the other side, only disappointed. He’s in a pair of slacks and a button-up. He must be near ready to go. 

“Hey, checking on you,” he puts his hand on the door frame. You glance at it. You won’t be able to close it. “Everything okay? I put coffee on.” 

You nod, “okay. I don’t drink coffee. Thanks. Too much caffeine.” 

“Oh, I should’ve remembered that,” he puts his other hand on his hip. “Well, your mom isn’t doing too well. She’s hungover. I did mention about the wine.” 

“Uh, I... I’m sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? Why?” He tilts his head, “you don’t have to apologise for her. It’s the consequences of her own behaviour.” 

You shrug. You guess it’s a habit. You’re always the one apologising to the nurses or the service workers or just the last person she decided to argue with. 

“Yeah...” you murmur. 

“Well, I can make you some breakfast? I have some muffins. You like blueberry?” 

“It’s okay. I’ll just wait for mom,” you pick at the hem of your shirt. 

“Alright, but I think she might not be up for a while. Even then, I don’t know if she’s going anywhere.” He glances over his shoulder. “How about, I’ll leave a muffin out for ya and you can have it if you get hungry? I got a short day, I won’t be gone very long but you get full rein of the house when I’m out. Keep your mom safe, huh?” 

You blink at him. You can’t quite process what he’s saying. More his tone than his words. He’s talking to you in this sickly sweet voice. Is he trying to be fatherly? You don’t need a dad and he didn’t need you either. 

“Right, I...” you shift on your feet. “I’ll just lay back down. My head hurts.” 

“You sure you’re not hungry? I can get you some coffee before I go?” He offers. 

You shake your head, “no thanks, “ you wisp out, “er, have a good day, Andy.” 

“I’ll try, sweetie,” he surprises you as he moves his hand from the door frame swiftly. You can’t react as he reaches for you. He cradles around the back of your head and leans in to kiss your forehead. “You too.” 

He pets your head before he pulls away. You’re too stunned to speak or move. You squeeze the handle on your tank and your chest starts to split. You have to breathe! 

He steps back with a grin and turns to strut away. You watch after him. Was that... well, no, it’s... it can’t be anything. He’s just being him? He’s with your mom now so technically when they marry... that’s it.  

You just don’t know any better. You’re stupid. You’ve never even dreamed of having a man interested in you that you confuse the most innocent things for more. It’s not that. He’s being nice. If anything, he just feels sorry for you like everyone else. 

When he disappears down the stairs, you finally get some sense back. You shut the door and go back to the bed. You’re dizzy and a bit queasy. You lay down and watch the ceiling. If your mom isn’t up in an hour, you’ll have to go find her. 

You can’t stay like that. Despite the shadow of exhaustion that always follows you, you’re restless. You get up and make sure the bed is tidy. You fold the used tee shirt and check to make sure you tank hasn’t left any marks on the floor or carpet. 

Alright then, that’s enough waiting. You peek into the hallway before you emerge. You go down to the door where you think she is. You can’t remember which one now. You knock and wait. She doesn’t answer so you hit the door harder, making yourself flinch. 

You hear a grumble. You stand in indecision. Should you just let her be? Well, you don’t want to be here all day. You rub your forehead then rip your hand away. Right there, where he kissed you... 

You drop your hand to the door handle and push inward. Your mother is shrouded in darkness, the curtains are drawn, and she groans. You sniff and stay close to the threshold. 

“Mom, are you okay? It’s almost nine--” 

“Go away,” she gurgles. 

“Mom, we have to go home.” 

“Oh, shut up. Go. Fuck, my head is pounding,” she rubs her head and writhes. 

“Mom?” You squeak. She can be harsh but she doesn’t swear at you like that. “Can I help--” 

“Leave me alone,” she rolls her back to you, “you’re making it worse.” 

You frown and look at her. You were just trying to help her. You know you’re useless but you don’t mean to be. You back out and roll the tank with you. When you close the door, you jump at the figure along the edge of your sight. You turn to Andy as he stands just down the hall. 

How long has he been there? 

“Told you, she’s in rough shape,” he says. “Well, good and bad news. My case for this morning got pushed. Lawyers put in a request so I’m gonna work from home so if you need anything, I’ll be around.” 

“Oh, uh, right,” you hunch and shrink toward the wall. 

He nods and smiles softly. You’re both silent, stuck in a strange valley of uncertainty. He clears his throat. 

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, you know? I’ll... I’ll tell her that.” He says. 

You shake your head frantically, “no, don’t do that.” 

“But she shouldn’t--” 

“Please. She’s just not feeling good,” you insist and roll toward him. “It’s fine. Just... I need to sit down.” 

He lets you pass and you dip back into the guestroom. You click the door shut and heave out a long breath. You just want to be at home. Everything here feels so weird. 

[tswaney17]

Like Dad

Happy @azrielappreciationweek, Day 7: Free

I was very excited to bring back my Oh Baby AU for this week. I'm slowly coming out of my creative funk, and I hope to be back to posting on the regular here soon! 💕

Catch up here: Little One, My Son

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: none

Word Count: 2,224

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read here.

Azriel slid Rosalie’s plate back in front of her after cutting her roasted chicken up into more manageable bites.

“Thanks, Daddy!” she announced, spearing a piece of meat and popping it into her mouth.

He leaned down, kissing the top of her head.

“How is training going?” Elain asked her elder sister.

They were having their weekly family dinner at Rhys and Feyre’s manor. Since they all started having children, the sisters pushed to keep up these traditions so the cousins could grow up together. Or at least they tried to as much as possible. Occasionally, one group wouldn’t be able to make it, like when Amren and Varian were in Summer, or Cassian took his lot to the Illyrian Steppes. But, for the most part, they all showed up for this set-aside, few hours to reconnect as a family.

And it worked. Kaden and Nyx were as thick as thieves, and Rosalie and her younger cousin Sutton were already the best of friends. He loved seeing their children together. It reminded him much of his childhood with his brothers. The bond formed through centuries that could never be broken.

Tested, yes.

Broken, no.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[pyromegalomaniac]

Well, I keep imagining the reader before being taken by Yandere wally to his world, had a date with someone had a crush on the reader at her house, but imagine the reader and the guy on the date kissing and going to some more spicy places TV or computer out of nowhere turned on and had Wally looking not too happy about it… What would happen?

Such a good idea, anon... I really like yandere and generally threatening Wally, so this is gonna be fun to write. >:) I will say that this'll be a gn reader, since you mentioned them as she. Just letting you know!! I also separated the story this time, since it ended up being extra long and I decided to write with my laptop this time instead of my phone!! Enjoy!!

(♡˙︶˙♡)

Eyes Glued to the Screen🍎📺

(some spicy themes ahead, reader be aware!!!)

☆°•☆°•☆°•☆

Aspen was using the bathroom, and I sat on my phone scrolling tumblr as I waited for him in our booth. The waiter had already taken our bill, and I was just waiting for my date to get back so we could go.

I decided to check up on that website about the hunt for that lost media show for updates, but no luck. When I'd first heard about it awhile ago, I was immediately enamored. The characters were so charming, and they reminded me so much of the Muppets. I really hoped they'd be able to find some of the actual show soon. So far all they'd found was some old merch and some scripts.

My favorite was a little yellow puppet with a fancy blue hairstyle that supposedly talked to the viewer, Wally Darling. He was just so classy. It was adorable!

I was just finishing putting the tags on a reblog of some fanart when Aspen walked back to our table.

"Ready to go?" He smiled.

"Yep," I replied, shoving my phone in my pocket and standing up after I hit "post".

I took his hand and we left the restaurant, stepping into the chilly evening air just as the sun was going down. We started walking down to my apartment, stopping at a little general store on the way when it started raining. It had already been drizzling, which neither of us minded, but the raindrops were big and fat now, and we didn't have an umbrella.

We tried to wait it out, but after fifteen minuets we just gave up and bought an umbrella to share.

"Dammit, I'm sorry about this," I said as we walked back to my apartment. "I looked at the weather before our date and I thought it'd be over by the time we were done. I-"

"Hey, hey," said Aspen. "You don't gotta put yourself down like that. I didn't bring an umbrella, did I?" He chuckled sweetly, and it really did make me feel better. He was such a little sweetheart.

I should get him some flowers sometime.

We got to my apartment and shed our wet coats, leaving them on hooks. The rain was really coming down now, picking up even more. I wondered vaguely if that was thunder that I heard just now.

We left our shoes on a towel by the door, and I went to go change from my jeans to my sweatpants.

"I'll be back in just a minute~" I called over my shoulder. "Go ahead and start the movie."

I disappeared into my room and undid my belt. I was just putting it away when I heard my phone vibrate on the table. I picked it up to see a text from a number I didn't recognize.

"You didn't forget me, did you?"

I shook my head, assuming it was a wrong number. I had my pants off and was folding them up when I got another text. This time, it was an image. It was hard to tell because it was so dark, but it looked like the vague shape of a face, but the eyes were easiest to make out. It was hard to miss, actually, since they seemed to be able to actually see me.

I was tying up my sweatpants when I got the third text. My curiosity got the best of me, and I opened up the audio message. There was an odd monotone voice speaking to me from... somewhere. The audio quality was... poor.

"Why... why don't you answer me? I can see you. Can't you see me anymore? Just leave him alone. Just leave him. Don't look at him... just look at me... y/n."

It was hard to hear because of the bad audio and because it was whispered, but the voice knew my name somehow. It knew me. It wasn't a wrong number. I could feel the hair rising on my neck...

I jumped almost ten feet in the air when the thunder and lightning crashed outside, stopping myself from shrieking just in time.

I blocked the number and headed outside.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Has the Doc showed him the Delorian yet?"

"Nope, but he's about to," said Aspen, scooting over. "Come sit. I got a nice blanket for us to cuddle in."

I sat next to him in the blanket, and after a while he started leaning on me, and I put my arm around him. I slid my hand down his back and casually made my way under his shirt, and he scooted closer.

Before we could get any more intimate, a roll of thunder crashed outside and a flash of lightning lit up the room in a blinding bright white.

When it was over, all the lamps we had on before were off, and the tv was too.

"Looks like the storm hit the power," I sighed. I got up to go check the tv, and Aspen pulled the blanket close to him.

"I hope it doesn't get too cold in here with the heater not working," he muttered.

I could think of one or two ways we could warm up.

As I bent down to the tv to see if I could do anything with it, it turned on again, displaying nothing but static and some loud static sounds. I tried fiddling with it, but I couldn't get that noise to turn down.

But... were those words in the static? Or was I just hearing things? I bent down as close as I could to hear, and I could've sworn I saw those same eyes that I saw in the text.

"Y/n... you see me now, don't you? Oh, good. We can see each other again."

I froze in fear at hearing that ominous voice again, this time from the tv. It was so quiet, I was certain Aspen couldn't hear.

The eyes became clearer too.

"My, my... I do think I'll just have to take you back with me. Won't that be wonderful, my dear?"

The static seemed to part like a curtain and he pulled himself through, grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Let's go, sweetheart!"

The last thing I heard was Aspen's scream as I was pulled through to the other side.

☆°•☆°•☆°•☆

Ooooh, spooky, isn't it?? Ha, Wally is such a little weirdo. I love him sm!! Sorry if this took a bit of time, anon. I hope you liked it, and thanks for requesting this!! It was fun to write, and I look forward to doing more in the future!! Much love!!

ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ