#always the opposite of how i was thinking
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I imagine flashing Logan is the best solution to literally any kind of domestic dispute you might have, it’s a very known fact that the man will bend over backwards at the suggestion of seeing your body. Just picture it, a minor dispute over what dinners gonna be—you want some soup for the winter months, but Logan’s the kind of man who always craves meat—neither of you can convince the other one so there you are, stood around the stove still going back and forth.
“Logan, it’s freezing outside, I want something warm,” you insist, and Logan’s quick to reply that “Steak’s just as warm as soup!”
No matter what you can’t seem to agree, but then it happens. A lightbulb goes off, seeing this dumb trend on TikTok and you figure what the hell, why not try to convince Logan with other means.
So in a fit of frustration, you take a few steps back and fist the end of your shirt in your hands. Whatever he was going to say next comes out as silence when you let your girls do the talking for you.
When you’re certain you have his attention you repeat yourself, gratification in your tone knowing you’ve got him hook, line, and sinker. “Logan, I think we should have soup tonight.”
Your smile widens when you hear the groan he lets out, biting at his fist while his eyes are laser-focused on your chest. “Fuck me—that’s not fair.”
“Logan…” you whine, laughing at just how badly whipped your husband is. “I really think soup is the better option tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say darling,” he dismisses, making his way toward you with a purpose. “You can tell me what kind we’re making after I’m done.”
You know better than anyone what he means by that, pulling your shirt down with a giggle before running to the opposite side of the kitchen. “Logan, calm down—“
“I’m very calm,” he interrupts, smirking at your sudden bout of nerves. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Logan!” You squeal as you’re suddenly lifted over his shoulder. “Hold on, I’ve gotta do meal prep—hey!”
His hand across your ass has your words dying in your throat, giggling the whole way to the bedroom. “Logan, we’ve gotta at least eat first!”
“Trust me, I’m gonna be eating something.”
“Logan!”
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🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ want me that top!
꩜ .ᐟ basically; caitlyn’s that kind of top…
cw; female reader. stráp usage (r! receiving). stráp referred to as côck bc. cait is MEANNN. brief mentions of edġíng. sweáring. pet names. degrádátion but also praișe lol. dírty talk. däcryphïlia if u squint. not proofread.
a/n; never wrote for caitlyn. please do excuse any shitty writing and ooc. anyways she’s so hot
NSFW UTC.
cait’s that mean kind of top. it’s not that she doesn’t want you feeling good! it’s the opposite. she wants you feeling good for so long you’re crying and writhing, begging for her to just let you cum.
yes, cait’s the type of top that edges you for her own enjoyment. next question.
cait, contrary to vi, is that type of top that loves straps. something about dicking you down, seeing your eyes roll—she knows it’s not her dick but damn, she can cum on fucking your pussy with that dildo if it comes down to it.
cait’s that type of top to say the nastiest shit with the sweetest tone of voice. yeah? you like that, mm? i know you do, baby. such a pretty little slut for me. her praise gives you mixed signals but she doesn’t stop, because she can feel your pussy twitch every time she calls you her slut.
cait’s that type of top that has surprising self control. she doesn’t get angry with brats and she doesn’t get jealous often, as a kiramman should. that doesn’t mean she won’t show you what happens when you’re a brat.
cait’s that type of top that gets what she wants. she’s always had it all on a silver platter and that isn’t changing now, not even when it comes to you.
cait’s that type of top that will take you anywhere. and i mean, anywhere.
cait’s that type of top that spoils you rotten. be it with clothes or making you cum. when you earn it, that is. yes, she will give you the most luxurious, expensive lingerie sets in piltover, if you agree to model for her. if you act good for her, i guarantee she will give you the best orgasms of your life. there’s nothing she likes more than to see you submit.
cait’s that type of top to be mean, but she has good intentions. she can’t help herself sometimes. you’re easy to poke and pick at when you’re under her, and you’re just so cute when you cry. she loves you, though. she swears. her good girl.
“what was that, baby?”
she was making fun of you. you were babbling incoherently, royal blue strap reminiscent of her own hair color plunging in and out of you, tip repeatedly kissing your cervix until you couldn’t think anymore.
“caiiittt…!” you whine out. she’s the only thing you can think of. pretty much any other words escape you as she fucks you, moaning and whining her name over and over and over again.
“hmm? yeah? you like that, huh?” she’s smirking. it’s so cute. you’re so cute, chest heaving with every moan and whine, tears pricking at your eyes at the sheer pressure on your womb. her pelvis repeatedly rubs and smacks against your clit, sharp little stings of pleasure to the puffy nub. not enough to cum, just enough to drive you to that edge and then away again. a constant swing of being at your limit and being pulled back by caitlyn.
“look at me.” she snaps suddenly, driving her cock deep into you, tip now practically smushed against your insides as she leans up against you, legs pushed up near your sides. she slings them over her shoulders, one hand holding your knee and the other grabbing your chin to make you look straight at her. her nails bite into the skin ever so slightly, a subtle reminder.
“c’mon. tell me how you like it, baby,” she grins, her movements suddenly continuing, but slower. methodical. she just rubs into you, just barely leaving an inch of space before going back in. her tip is massaging your uterus, you can feel it, and it almost feels like you’re about to explode.
“caitlyn!” you cried, legs trembling over her shoulders, “p-pleaseee…”
“please what?” she’s not letting you get the easy way out. no way. she’s panting, the heat coiling in her stomach growing the more she sees you beg and whine and cry her name. the rubber of the strap rubs against her own cunt, a delicious, excruciating continuous stimulus that she can’t help chasing.
“please… please fuck me, please… wanna cum, please let me—“
you’re cut off by a sharp smack of skin against skin as she suddenly thrusts full force into you. “good girl.” she nearly growls, adjusting her hold on your thighs, nearly folding you just to get the deepest angle she could. her thrusts grow more erratic, harder, and she grins at the little bulge that forms in your tummy every time she thrusts back into you.
you’re moaning so loud you might as well be screaming. god spare any maid in the kiramman estate from hearing you two. caitlyn has the decency to lean forward, kissing you open-mouthed and all, swallowing allll your moans into her own. you’re blubbering incoherently, tears making your eyes glassy—which just riles her up further.
“gonna!-“
“gonna cum, yeah? come on. cum for me, baby, you’ve earned it.”
she barely gets through her sentence, as you cum over her cock, earning her a chuckle as you paint her shaft a pretty milky white. your back arched and your head flopped back, moaning out a long whine of her name.
“yeah… that’s it. make a mess. you’ve been so good for me, haven’t you? just let it all out.” she fucks you through all of your orgasm, picking up her pace a little just to see your juices gush onto her lower belly. she goes until she reaches her own orgasm. the friction driving her into a wave of pleasure that makes her nearly collapse over you.
she lets your thighs fall from her shoulders. her chest presses against yours, her movements halt inside you as she groans a curse into your neck, riding out her own high.
you both lay there for a minute or so, just catching your breath. she picks her head up, kissing your neck, up to your jaw, up to your lips.
“my flower,” she muttered, “so perfect. so good for me. i love you.”
cait’s that type of mean top… but not cruel. she’s gonna let you cum—eventually. she wants to see you cum. there’s nothing better than seeing you burst with pleasure because of her. but she’s not letting you do that, not until all you can think about is her, her, her<3
𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ
#╰┈➤BOOTYCALLIN⨾#𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ short ‘n sweet.#lesbian#wlw#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman x reader#caitlyn x you#arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#arcane smut#x reader#league of legends x reader#caitlyn kiramman
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The ICHBW live stream animatic is hitting me hard hours after the fact I’m not a crier but I’m actually tearing up. Now I can fully articulate what I love about Athena’s part. Athena’s character came together so well I love it and I think the visuals combined with a day more of thinking + discussing with friends really helped me better understand everything. Those last 90 seconds of ICHBW was the BEST PART OF THE ENTIRE SHOW. Ridiculously long Athena character analysis under the cut which quickly devolves into thematic discussion lmao
First of all, the expressions they have on the animatic makes it abundantly clear that ody and Athena weren’t separated. HER SMILE!! HER LIGHTNING SCAR!! ODYSSEUS’ EXPRESSION SOFTENED TO A SMILE AFTER GETTING OUT OF QUICK THOUGHT!! Odysseus definitely pieced together what she did for her right then, there’s no other reason for Jorge to show Athena showing Odysseus that scar otherwise. It’s like they immediately slid back into place like puzzles pieces even after 10 years. They’ve been changed in completely opposite ways. Odysseus the mortal has been turned to be less human, more ruthless, while Athena the immortal goddess has been turned to be more human, more empathetic. The latter partially because of Odysseus. Tbh Athena ever showing her face to Odysseus after My Goodbye and saying “I can’t help but feel like I’ve led you astray” is as close to an apology as it’s gonna get LMAO. The unresolved WOTM melody in the end is actually because their story together hasn’t ended, it’s because Odysseus doesn’t have to be her warrior of the mind anymore.
I once said that open arms is more than mercy, but treating the world kindly to lead to kinder souls down the road, to change the world for the better, and it holds true even more now. Odysseus is too tired for this. He’s just a man, he knows a better world is possible but he can no longer be a part of it. He can’t witness the better world in his short mortal lifetime, he just wants his happy ending with his wife. He doesn’t want to be Athena’s warrior of the mind anymore, and that’s ok. And yet, and yet he knows it is possible. He needs it to be possible, and he needs Athena to make it possible. Athena accepts it with a soft “very well”. That doesn’t mean they won’t ever see each other again, just that they no longer have that obligation of mentor-student, they’re just two old friends. They can rebuild their relationship slowly but surely with what they have.
Telemachus is the Warrior of the Mind now (AHHHHHH HIS ATHENA CAPE AND HELMET I LOVE HIS UPGRADE). From here, Telemachus and Athena are gonna truly fulfill Athena’s mission of “making a greater tomorrow” except it isn’t to turn the world more logical and ruthless like she once thought, but to make the world more empathetic and kind — she’s finally found what she was fighting for. Perhaps this is why the WOTM melody in God Games ended with Legendary — Telemachus is the new warrior of the mind. Odysseus fought for a world where his son can be safe and grow up kind and he succeeded in that. Far from war, Telemachus grew up able to afford kindness and empathy while also retaining the ability to be ruthless in face of obstacles — and now he can use this to change the world to Athena’s new ideal — where people held each other with more empathy — as Athena’s new Warrior of the Mind.
Athena’s verse existing is a sign of her reconciliation with Odysseus (in character might I add! I don’t think they’re the type to express their affection so easily, they know each other so we’ll that they just know), so instead her verse is there to expand on the show’s theme as I will be talking about next.
I absolutely adore the depth Athena’s ICHBW verse adds to the thesis of the show. I’ve always thought of epic as mostly being about how it was best to strive for a balance between ruthlessness and open arms, but circumstances only allowed Odysseus to become ruthless which was tragic, while different circumstances allowed Telemachus to be both. But it’s not just that. Sure it’s good to have a balance between the two ideaologies but what if we could make a world where ruthlessness wasn’t needed at all? What if we could be unconditionally kind and be treated with kindness in return instead of taken advantage of or hurt? Where, when given the choice between open arms and ruthlessness, people would choose open arms? It wasn’t possible for these characters, but it could happen someday in the future. If Athena and Telemachus can work towards that future so can we. So should we, considering we’re in a much better place compared to them. A friend of mine said this was a call to action to us in the present and I just. Have not been able to stop thinking about it.
Athena has always thought in “maybes” about her purpose. from WOTM to My Goodbye we’ll be fine to ICHBW. “Maybe one day…” -> “One day you’ll…” -> “maybe if I…” -> “what if…” it’s like she’s representing the future, the “greater tomorrow” of what could be, because as Odysseus said, she’s immortal and she will live to see it and change it. Circe saga has something similar — “Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”, “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more, or maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more”. The connection of these hypotheticals “maybe one day” with a future world that could possibly be changed for the better by spreading kindness and open arms extends from Athena’s songs to There are Other Ways, one of the only times in the musical where, when Circe could choose between ruthlessness and mercy, she chose to show mercy and help them in hopes of spreading kindness to the world and making the world a slightly better place — aka a scenario that showed how unconditional kindness, “open arms”, could work, for kindness isn’t the inability to be cruel but choosing kindness even when you have the choice not to be. “Kindness is brave”, like Polites said.
Because of her immortality, Athena is the character who’s most connected to “time” in the musical with her time-related abilities like “time dive”, making people think quicker, having a domain essentially outside of time and space… She doesn’t just have a connection with the future but also the past. As someone who lives forever, she is the one who can connect the past, learning from past mistakes, to change the future: “To fall is to learn one way”.
Speaking of her connection to time, You can almost see that at one point Athena was the narrator of the story (see cut songs: full speed ahead demo and Ismarus) like Hamilton’s Burr: simultaneously an observer and a participant of the story. In the animatic of ICHBW she’s overseeing everything happening from her hour glass, wondering out loud from a meta perspective about the themes of the show, hypotheticals of what a different story, a different world could have looked like, and bringing everything to a close. It really feels like Athena is who’s gonna “live and tell their story” as per Hamilton, as always has been the case from burrthena narration days of Old Epic. She’s not just the bridge between the past and future but also between the story and the audience, by bringing up these themes on a meta level to directly tell the audience to make the world a kinder place, because we have the choice, unlike Odysseus who can only choose to accept his actions and move forward. Because she lives forever she can carry on their memories forever. She can keep telling their story over and over again to remind herself and others to change the world by showing empathy and open arms, and she will keep telling this story to us until ruthlessness is no longer needed in the world. The world where this is possible is not theirs but OURS. It is WE who have the chance to choose between ruthlessness and open arms and the show is telling us that, when we have this choice and aren’t forced to be ruthless, to always choose kindness and empathy. Like Circe, like Telemachus. So that we may impart some kindness unto the world and make it a better place.
“Maybe one day we’ll reach them and we’ll make a greater tomorrow then they’ll see I know we’ll change the world cuz we are the warriors of the mind!” — yes, they have reached us. We are all also warriors of the mind, doing our part to change the world for the better, to be kinder.
To me, one part of Athena’s character that’s never clicked for me was her motivation in WOTM. “Make a greater tomorrow” “we’ll change the world” why? How? What’s the point of including this in her song when it’s never come back up again? Now with the ICHBW verse, everything is tied up with a beautiful ribbon. She has always wanted to change the world for the better, and now she’s finally found out how — to spread empathy and Open Arms — and it’s inspired by the desire to help her friends, to prevent what happened to Odysseus from happening again, honoring him, just as how Odysseus tried to embrace Open Arms to honor his dead friends’ memories.
All in all, I’ve grown to genuinely really really like Athena’s verse in ICHBW. It’s so short but so effective at conveying so much. I hope that made sense bc it’s more a compilation of thoughts I had rather than a structured essay. Perhaps one day I will restructure this into a proper essay but not today for after all I’m- *gets shot
#epic the musical#epic athena#jorge rivera herrans#epic odysseus#epic the wisdom saga#epic telemachus#epic the Ithaca saga#ithaca saga#character analysis#xria rambles#analysis
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†⠀⠀ㅤֺ⠀ BACK 2 THE BASICS : SIMPLIFYING THE LAW .
︖ ── the law is over complicated? let’s fix it. this is a complete switch on all the knowledge you’ve learned, so, prepare to throw everything out the window.
‿‿
﹒get rid of everything that you’ve had the displeasure of hearing—yes, this includes states, thinking as if, and wavering. we’re starting from scratch, or moreso, a simpler way at grasping the concept.
‿‿
the basics of the law 📓, the law of assumption is described by the general public as follows: whatever you assume to be true, will be true. this isn’t pure, dumb luck, this is the law, what you’ve used your entire life subconsciously and will continue to use for the rest of your life. it is the basics structures of your reality; it is life.
﹒ an assumption is described in the dictionary as this: a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof.
this definition already proved the law of assumption is working constantly in your favor, and it always has. when you’re going to favorite store and your parent makes the assumption that they’ll be no parking space left—and then there’s no parking left. or when you’re getting prepared to take a test with the assumption you’ve failed, then you’ll start doing poorly on the test, because you’ve expected to fail.
“erm.. but solana… what if i expected to do poorly on the test and i passed???”
﹒ somewhere, in the middle of that test, subconsciously or not, you had an inkling of doubt in your assumption that you would fail. you stopped identifying with that thought, so, you shifted to a reality where you had identified with the opposite. you passing.
‿‿
clearing up some misconceptions 🪲, wavering doesn’t exist. a “delay” doesn’t exist, either. truthfully, i find it hard to pinpoint where you guys got your limitations from, but i’ll try to make it simple.
﹒you’ve been manifesting since the moment you’ve opened your eyes, why, only now that you’re consciously manifesting, that you feel the need to keep up with these terms? you’re doing nothing but changing your assumptions. an assumption is formed by just thinking. why not just constantly flip your thoughts?
and i get it—you’re traumatized. you’re brainwashed from what society has force-fed you for years. you need to place the law into categories to make it click, but why has it taken so long to click? the answer is simple: because you’ve been stressing yourself out.
﹒now, this is going to be controversial, but the truth. my truth. the most interesting thing about the law is how you can make assumptions ABOUT the law. believe there’s a separation between your mind and the outer world? there will be. believe there’s a delay? there will be. in this community, there seems to be some sort of “set guide” to understanding the law, and that comes with its own terms and conditions.
“don’t look for the 3D for validation!!” “stay in the wish fulfilled!!!!”
well, sometimes, we can be our own blockages. why would i need to limit myself in the state of the wish fulfilled, when i could just decide i have what i want and go on about my day? isn’t that the state of the wish fulfilled? what’s the point of the 3D and 4D separation if everything is internal? everything is consciousness?
what’s the point of the delay assumption? yes, you must change your shirt before you can get mad at the mirror for not reflecting it back to you, but that doesn’t mean the mirror is going to have a 5 second delay at showing your reflection. that doesn’t make sense.
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instead of worrying about the technicalities, do what you’ve always done, thinking a thought and sticking to it, and i promise you, they’ll be no wavering. there can only be wavering if you’re identifying with your thoughts, learn to ignore them and go about your day.
⊹ 𖥔
#merry christmas???#now go manifest#reality shifting#shifting community#shiftblr#shifting motivation#shifting blog#shiftinconsciousness#shifting diary#black shifters#shifting antis dni#law of assumption#loa advice#loassumption#loablr#loa blog#loa tips#loa success#lawofassumption#master manifestor#master shifter#desired reality#shifting consciousness#shifting realities#realityshifting#reality shift#shifting#shifters#shifting advice#shifting script
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So hear me out….pregnant reader with Sevika’s kid. Sevika doting on reader. Bring home a weird craving reader has been having and talking to the baby telling them how excited she is to finally meet them.
I need fluff, I need pregnancy, I need it to be hers naturally.
Thank yooooooooou!
this is so cute i loved writing it! i just know sevika would be a great parent ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
sevika x pregnant reader headcanons
cw: pregnancy, slight innuendos, mentions of violence, veryyyy slight angst at the start
sevika never saw herself being a parent; not because she doesn’t like kids, it’s the complete opposite - she adores them
she felt it was selfish to want to bring a child into a fucked up world like zaun, full of hardship and uncertain futures
but then one night you tearfully turn to sevika in bed and her mind immediately goes into overdrive, are you hurt? is someone threatening you?
“sevika…i’m pregnant.”
you’re both sent into a still silence, unable to see each other but somehow feeling each other’s shock that much more
you’re worried that she’s upset or even mad at you, you know how she feels about having kids, until she’s gripping onto you with all her might, body shuddering from the force of her tears
sevika spoons you to sleep but she can’t fall asleep since her mind is racing about what this means for the future
she is overjoyed to say the least, albeit worried
from that moment on she dotes on you even more than she ever did, saying she needs to “look after my two favourite people.”
she rarely enjoyed pda but now you’re pregnant with her child, she can’t keep her hands off you - she needs to let everyone know that she’s completely smitten with you and the baby
sevika is constantly rubbing her hands on your baby bump wherever you go - just the sight of you and the baby calms her down
however she’ll only talk to the baby when you’re at home all safe and sound because this is when she admits her innermost fears
you stroke her soft hair as she whispers to the bump about how she’s scared she won’t be able to protect you both; after all, sevika works for the biggest crime lord in zaun and a child only provides more ammunition for enemies to utilise
sevika is also concerned about not being a good enough parent to the child but when you look at her building a crib from scratch, concentration furrowing her dark brows, with buckets of paint surrounding her from all the swatches you requested, you know that her worries couldn’t be further from the truth
every morning and every night, without fail, she kisses your forehead and baby bump as she rambles to you both about how excited she is for the completion of your little family
she dotes on you so much!
if you have a weird craving like pickle juice with sparkling water she’s forcing chuck to drop all his orders and make yours stat
if you’re craving some obscure dish that really shouldn’t exist sevika isn’t even going to question it
she’s in the kitchen whipping it up for you as you’re sat on the counter, humming as she prepares your meal
she does that thing where she puts the plate just in your reach but yanks it back again, laughing at how petulant you get
“what, you’re not gonna kiss the chef first?”
she gives it to you eventually, she could never make you wait for too long, and watches on with a goofy little smile and your lipstick marks all over her face as you contentedly eat the downright atrocious meal she made with love
sevika is always with you; call her overprotective or clingy she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want to risk anybody hurting you or the baby
you basically get scary dog privileges everywhere you go
if your pregnancy hormones say the annoying store clerk that spoke to you in a condescending tone needs to die then sevika is on it right away
ok not really, she talks you down from your moments of bloodlust but she will deal with anyone that is rude to you
“you think i’m gonna let you get away with being an asshole to my dove, huh?”
lowkey shocked (and equal parts turned on) at how cranky your raging hormones make you 😭
sevika is incredibly attracted to you and your changing body even though you get insecure that she won’t like you anymore because of it
she takes her precious time every day just kissing the new stretch marks that appear and massaging your swollen ankles
you spend your date nights talking about baby names and you two even draw what you think the baby will look like
her drawing mainly consists of your features
your drawing mainly consists of her features
you two are so down bad for each other it’s sickening
silco has to force sevika to take more time off; she’s loyal and deserves to have more downtime with you as you prepare for your baby
he understands what it’s like to have a kid, how stressful it can be so he wants his dearest friend to enjoy the moment as much as possible
speaking of silco, he helps sevika host a surprise baby shower at the last drop and an insane amount of people turn up
you cry when you realise how loved and respected you are in the community
everyone is having the time of their lives playing games like blind diaper changing, who knows mum/dad the best, guess the baby, etc.
no gender reveal though she’s traditional in that regard and wants to wait until the baby’s born to find out
jinx is also very excited about the new arrival in the family
yes, she considers you and sevika to be part of her family and it’s very cute
she gets to be an auntie!
jinx spends all her free time making all sorts of toys out of softer materials because she’s considerate (also sevika warned her not to use scrap metal, or implement sharp edges, or even add teeny tiny smoke bombs - jinx scrapped all of her designs and had to start from scratch), for your baby with her signature graffiti of course
her and sevika probably work together to make some of the furniture for the baby’s room
sevika is very proud when people ask to feel bump
“yeah, this is our kid.” smug grin plastered onto her face and a strong arm wrapped around your midsection
you can’t help but roll your eyes when she does this because at this point who doesn’t know it’s your kid - she spends all day talking about it 😭
all in all sevika is honestly the best mother and wife you could ask for <3
masterlist
#sevika x reader#sevika#arcane#arcane headcanon#sevika fluff#fluff#jinx#silco#pregnant reader#sevika headcanon#request#arcane request#arcane fluff
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Gotham New Rogue 2
It's been a few weeks since Danny started to become the Trickster. To be honest, it is working very well. His core is expanding fast as ectoplasm is regenerating faster than ever before. He is also slowly developing new abilities and gaining more control and powers to his already established abilities.
For instance, Danny used to struggle making clones, but now he can easily create dozens of them with just a thought. He can also change his clothes to whatever he imagines using ectoplasm now. His ice power is also stronger and easier to control. His superhuman body is developing and slowly getting stronger and faster.
Overall, Danny will say that make a smart decision to become a rogue especially since no one has caught him yet. Danny is currently laying on top of a building watching the sun slowly set in the horizon. His stomach suddenly grumbles and he decides to hit the shack before he gets to "work" tonight.
Jumping off the roof, Danny lands and walks to the nearest Batburger while still wearing his rogue suit. He has a totally funny idea today and it involves him being seen in public. Entering the Batburger is like entering a library for some reason. As soon as he enters, everyone goes deathly quiet.
Danny slowly walks towards the cashier and orders his food.
Danny: 5 sets of set C please.
Cashier: Ermm, that will be 60 bucks.
Danny: Here.
After paying for the food, Danny gets his food and sits at one of the tables alone. It's only after he is through his 3rd set that reality is set in for the people. They begin to move and contrary to Danny's expectations, approach him to ask for pictures. Danny allows them some pictures and unknowingly raises his status as Gotham's friendliest rogue.
Suddenly, a white man that screams rich guy, a woman with blonde hair and a black guy wearing Signal's merch approach him. Danny has learned a lot of things from his 14 years of life and 2 years of half life and Danny knows when a rich guy approaches you, it's never good (Sam doesn't have the rich vibe).
Rich guy: Hello Trickster! May we have a meal with you?
Danny: Sure.
Rich guy: Ah, how rude of me. My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. These two are my friends, Stephanie Brown and Duke Thomas. You can call me Tim by the way.
Danny: Sure, Tim.
They sit opposite him with their meals and try to make small talks with him while eating. The trio realize that Danny seems to respond a lot better when Steph or Duke is the one to ask the question.
Steph: So, Trickster. Why don't you like my friend here?
Duke: Way to go in being subtle, Steph. Why not ask who is he really next?
Steph: Hey, I can't help it you know. He seems so snarky whenever Tim asks questions. I wanna know if Tim pissed him off or something.
Danny: He is rich, right?
Duke: Err, yes?
Steph: Let's say he is. Why does that matter?
Danny: I hate rich people. And government. But who doesn't hate the government?
Duke: So, eat the rich?
Danny: Yes.
Steph: Cool cool. We are also here just so we could leech him off anyway. We're not really friends.
Tim: Ow, you hurt me by saying that. What happened to our vow of eternal friendships?
Steph: I cross my fingers.
Duke: I lie.
Danny: Hahahaha. You're like my friends.
Tim: You have friends?
Danny: Of course I have friends. And unlike you I don't need money to have friends.
Tim: Sorry sorry. Are your friends also rouges?
Danny: Wouldn't you like to know? Last I need is Batman investigating my friends. I'm sure Batman is part of you rich people group chat or something.
Steph and Duke: *Snickers*
Tim: *Glares at the two* Why would you think Batman is in contact with the rich people?
Danny: Isn't it obvious? Batman has all these high tech gadgets and is always there fast whenever a Wayne is kidnapped. I would even say Batman is being sponsored by the Wayne.
Danny: I also don't like most heroes in general. They are just the government lapdog doing whatever the government wants.
Tim, Steph and Duke frowned at that statement. From the way Danny speaks, it is clear that he has some history against the government. Him being here also means he is at least confident enough to run away if any of the bats are here. Is it just blind confidence or a truly competent ability will remain to be seen.
Tim is just about to refute him when Danny suddenly stands up. All of them tensed up and ready for battle when Danny turns towards one side of the window, waves and disappears right in front of them. They are very confused and when they turn towards the direction Danny was just looking at, they see Batman and Black Bat right on the rooftop across the building.
Batman and Tim nod to each other and they all return to the caves.
-Batcave-
Tim: So you all hear the conversation right?
Dick: Except at the end where the sound becomes blurred for a moment, we hear everything.
Tim: Good. So what are your thoughts on this?
Damian: It is pretty self explanatory Drake. He has a personal hatred towards the government and that extends to all bodies of government or people he thought is connected to the government.
Tim: But why though? Is the hatred towards the government something as simple because he is a criminal? Or is there something else towards it?
Bruce: There is nothing to find about him currently with our limited resources about him. Return to the manor for today and take some rest. We will investigate it later.
All of them return to the manor and rest for the night.
-2 weeks later-
The Trickster is standing in front of an unconscious and tied up Batman. He is giggling loudly that evolves into full blown laughter.
He takes off Batman's belt and starts to pull out stuff one after another. Soon, he found the item that he needed.
Trickster: Hahahahahahaha. I have finally got it. The strongest weapon in the world!
The batfam that is watching the live broadcast shiver as they watch Trickster holds out the black object high in the sky.
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Small NSFW Viktor Blurb... because i'm thinking too much about him
Arcane Viktor x F!Reader
The way Viktor fucks is so... scientific.
The way he speaks to you, so softly yet so calculatingly is addictive. It's embarrassing how wet it makes you when he speaks this way. It's not at all that he's talking down to you as he dirty talks, he speaks in the manner that a scientist testing his hypothesis would. He has no condescending tone, no hint of sarcasm, and certainly not trying to degrade you. The opposite really.
"Interesting..." he would murmur as he notices you twitch particularly hard, sitting back against the pillows as he watched you feed his thick cock into your throbbing core, watching the way your slickness coated him with every miniscule movement.
He adjusts himself with his arms, eyes piercing your pussy as his shifting makes you gasp out, pushing more of his length into your tight heat. His voice is strangled as he speaks,"You really seem to like it when I move like this..."
If it were his way, he would have a notebook out to jot down everything he notices as you two fuck. You're pretty sure you caught him writing in a small black notebook one time after a particularly good romp too, but you've never been able to find that little notebook and have never been able to figure out what it contains.
Between his gasps and clutching of the bedsheets underneath him, he stays trained on the way your pussy takes his thickness, stretching around him and leaving a creamy ring around the base as you rode him.
"Hm," he would murmur, hands reaching to shift your hips forward a bit, shifting them back when he notices your brow furrowed more when you were positioned that way on his cock.
He would spread your legs carefully, with shaky hands, adjusting your position to one that he hypothesized and tested before as to being much more comfortable for you. He knew you wouldn't get as tired in this position and that he had easier access to that throbbing clit of yours, nimble and long fingers trailing from the soft mound of your right breast, thumbing your pebbled nipple, down the softness of your torso to where you ached for him the most.
He bit back smirks as he moved his fingers in the exact motion he knew made your eyes screw shut and mouth drop open, drool running down your plump bottom lip before hitting and running over your chest. Of course, he tried and tested it before.
"Like that, yes? I know, I know my sweet, I know you like it this way... prefer to have my fingers move like this, yes? Feels good when you move your hips like that?" He would coo, free hand moving to your hip, digging his fingertips in.
He knew this amount of pressure would leave small finger shaped bruises on your skin, the very kind he loved to see when you two would retire to bed in the lateness of night, fingers tracing over the skin under the glittering moonlight.
His amber eyes would rake over your form, listening to you gasp out. He would be mentally taking in the tell tale signs that you were close to cumming, getting closer and closer with every gasp. He would take note the way your eyes would glaze over before shutting, how your head settled, brows furrowed. Between his own pleasure he would note the way your clenched, milking him so sweetly that he couldn’t help but jerk his hips up, using his arms to move.
It made the mattress creak, the frame hit the wall, the pillows go tumbling down. It made his mental notes, ones he made sure to write down once he had a chance as any researcher does, go blurry in his mind. But his eyes never fell from your body, watching his most perfect work bring you to that peak of absolute pleasure, crying out his name as he did everything he knew was tried and true to make it feel so overwhelming.
Viktor was a scientist at heart, always has been and always will be, but that doesn’t make him a boring academic when it comes to intimacy. If anything, that makes him a lot more mindful, as any good scientist in his field is.
#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane s2#arcane season two#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor x reader arcane#arcane viktor#viktor lol#breadstick talks#viktor x you#viktor x y/n#viktor blurb#arcane fanfic#arcane league of legends#arcane x reader
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Sevika x fem!bar owner!reader
Pt. 2
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a/n: sorry this took so long lmao. I completely scrapped the first version i wrote of this because it just got too damn long
regardless, we're here now and i hope you enjoy!!
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"So… what is it exactly that you do?"
You'd asked her the question on yet another night where she'd stayed extra late, long after the last patrons had bid you a good night (or very early morning) and all the chairs had gone up.
(Sevika had put them up, even after you'd distinctly told her not to before you went into the kitchen. Your fault, really)
She ponders the question, wondering if you're playing at something more or really just asking. She knows you're smart. It's why she likes you. But she just doesn't know how smart.
"I hurt people, usually," she said casually. If the answer offended you, you displayed the opposite of it.
Your glasses clinking was the only sound to clash with the jukebox, ringing in a gentle sense of understanding on your part.
"A lucrative business here," you say.
"In the long-term. Better be, at least."
For someone who's known as The Lioness of the Lanes, it's a while before you ever see her lion'ing about or whatnot.
She's never violent in your establishment. But you know bad people, you know how to pick up someone's capacity for violence. Sevika has a huge one.
But you understand quickly that there's a reason she's called 'Lioness' and not 'hyena', or something. Her violence is never undue. If she bares her teeth, it's to protect.
Physical altercations aren't at all uncommon in your bar. It's the Undercity after all, these things happen but people always move on from it quickly.
You've noticed that people always seem to... "act right" whenever Sevika's at your bar that night. The meanest-looking men in your bar straighten their posture when she walks by their table, others greeting her with a nod of respect (or submission).
"Wow. I'm glad you like me, at least," you say as she sits down, right in front of you like always.
"Says who?" And she always gives that smug little smile when you laugh in response.
While she's watched/admired you put more than one customer on their ass for trying to cause a scene in your establishment, it's always with a protective posture.
She goes into guard dog mode the moment you cross out from behind the protection of your bar to tell a drunkard off. Her poker buddies poke fun at her for it.
She intervenes before you even get the chance to one time. Perhaps it's because the man keeps drunkenly bumping into her shoulder, or because his boisterous voice keeps causing her head to snap over to him.
You're busy laughing at her expense when the man turns his antics on you. You're perfectly content to brush off whatever rudeness he spouts at you, but Sevika clearly isn't when her hand shoots out and grabs the back of his neck.
He'd called you a dumbass or something of the sort in a more distasteful manner when you'd cut him off. Sevika's eyes had flared with a personal, wrathful anger before she'd grabbed him by the scruff.
"You know better," she snaps. It would be as if she were lecturing a child if it weren't for the man's face pressed against the bar. She's pressing him into the surface with nothing but the strength of her human arm, her large body looming over his as he slurs out an apology.
God, you wished she would grab you like that- who said that??
The next time she comes in, you insist her whiskey's on the house.
"Consider it compensation for dealing with that guy last night." She rolls her eyes at you as she lights her cigarillo on the lighter you offer, and throws a few bills on the bartop anyway (hot).
You throw them back at her with a playful glare, and subsequently earn yourself a real one. You feel a shiver run down your spine that's for any reason but fear.
"Don't play this game with me, you'll lose." To you, that really didn't sound all that bad.
Before you can even think, she's leaning forward and tucking the bills into the pocket of your apron in the middle of your sternum. The look she wears is challenging as she sits back, almost expectant of a reaction.
You don't disappoint, reaching out with two fingers to pluck the cigarillo from her lips and taking your own drag. Your eyes never leave hers, watching her shamelessly stare at that damn cigarillo with a burning jealousy.
"Hm. I picked a good brand, didn't I?" "Yeah, yeah, hand it back before you choke, princess."
You try not to let it get to your head (and heart) how it makes you feel when she calls you that, or any other name like 'baby', 'sweetheart', or 'beautiful'.
And you try not to let it get to your head how you seem to be the only one here who she calls those things.
Neither of you had any idea how hopelessly hers you already were.
While Sevika's "occupation" slowly becomes clearer to you, the amount of energy she puts into protecting you is completely out of sight and mind.
She tries to convince herself that her reasoning for continually lying in Silco's face is purely pragmatic; you're good for the community, providing a warm reprieve for the kids in the city against the harsh reality of Silco's slow revolution. As far as she's concerned, Zaun profits more from your continued thriving than any amount of money she could intimidate out of you.
The idea of ever coming into your bar for collections makes her a little sick, if she's honest. Never you. It's far too late for that now.
So when Silco sends her to do exactly that (because you're just that savvy at running your business), she feels her heart churn. She can only say no to Silco so many times and in so many ways. There's no way around this one without raising his suspicions, and she doesn't have the backing to combat that yet.
Your unfailing smile when you see her comes in makes her want to punch her own face in. She hates that she's fond of you.
"Hey good-lookin', you're late! What kept y-" "I'm here on business this time." "O..oh...?"
She explains Silco's tax with a coldness you've grown unfamiliar with from her. You take it like you would a slap to the face, growing angry before you can risk feeling sad.
"Sevika, what the hell is this? I've minded my damn business ever since I opened, the hell did I do to piss him off?" "It isn't personal, princess. You asked me what I do. I don't think I ever gave you the impression it was pretty." "If I knew petty extortion was what freedom-fighting meant to you, then I would've kept those cigs for myself."
You don't give her much more room to say anything after that before you're throwing a bag of coins at her and telling her to get the fuck out. She expected as much. You were hardy and quick to adapt, just like Zaun.
Sevika's done plenty of things in the name of a better future that she isn't proud of. But your money seemed to burn a hole through her hand, and the sting didn't fade even after she'd dropped it on Silco's desk.
"Good work," he said flippantly, as if she didn't always do good work. Go to hell.
She imagines it's your hand holding her lighter when she smokes through nearly half a pack later that night.
The soft voice of a shelved version of her whispers that maybe just this once, she should fight for something only she wants.
She tries to push away the thought and reason that it was always going to end up this way anyways, while you close down the bar for the night alone.
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untethered | e.w
00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader
wc: 7.4k
series: chapter one (you’re here!)
blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.
cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.
note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.
It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.
And, of course, you missed your parents.
They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.
That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.
Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.
The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.
It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.
The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.
She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.
It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.
Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.
Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!
Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.
You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.
Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.
He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.
Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.
You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?
Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.
He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.
Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.
Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”
“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“
You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”
“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.
There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.
With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.
“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”
Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.
“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.
Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”
“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”
“Ellie…” You warned.
“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“
It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.
Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”
There it was.
Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“
Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.
Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.
“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.
“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.
The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”
Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”
Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”
He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.
They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.
More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”
Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.
Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.
Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!
That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.
As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.
She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.
“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.
“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”
Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”
He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”
The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.
“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“
The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”
Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”
“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.
That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.
Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.
You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.
A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.
“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”
As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.
“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”
“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”
Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.
“A year?! And none of you told me?”
“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.
Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”
Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”
Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”
Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.
To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.
Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.
It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”
“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.
Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”
“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”
“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.
“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.
She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“
“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.
Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.
“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.
“I gotta go.”
Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.
Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.
Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.
“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.
Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—
“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.
You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”
Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”
The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”
“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.
“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.
He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”
“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.
Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.
All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.
“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.
You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.
Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.
“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.
“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”
Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.
“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.
“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.
Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.
“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.
“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.
“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”
“You did say crowded.”
“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”
You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”
Another record scratch.
You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”
Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.
Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!
“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”
“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.
Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”
“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.
“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.
A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.
Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”
Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.
On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.
“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”
You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”
“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”
“Have a great night…”
Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.
You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.
Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.
That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.
Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?
Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.
It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.
Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.
Suddenly, curiosity struck.
Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.
They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.
Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.
If only that day never happened…
A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.
“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.
The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”
Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.
Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.
“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”
“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.
The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”
Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.
“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”
When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.
Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”
You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.
“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.
“Hm… That’s relatable.”
Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.
Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”
Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.
“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“
“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”
You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.
Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”
As much as we used to. That kind of stung.
Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”
She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”
“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.
“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”
Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.
She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”
“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.
“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“
“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”
“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”
She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.
“I’m fucking starving.”
Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.
#🪅#millersfinest#ellie williams#lesbian#ellie tlou#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams series
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yk how everyone in the odyssey is always “oh odysseus is so awesome” “oh i could speak for hours of wily odysseus”. i like to think that diomedes is the opposite. everyone expects him to be the worst since they were so close but every time someone asks diomedes about odysseus he’s all “odysseus? what a useless fuck. yeah he thought of the horse but jesus it took him long enough”
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warnings: none. wc: 871
[mistletoe misbehavior] "This..." Jihoon gaped at the ceiling. Or, for a better description, what used to be the ceiling. "...is ridiculous."
"I think you mean genius," Soonyoung said as he crudely taped up the last piece of mistletoe. He climbed down the small stepladder and put his hands proudly on his hips, admiring his two and a half hours' worth of hard work.
Every single square inch of the ceiling was covered in mistletoe.
If Jihoon didn't know the roof was supposed to be white, he wouldn't have been able to tell. How Soonyoung even managed to find this much mistletoe in the first place was a mystery of its own.
"If this is because they're coming over tonight, you're an idiot."
Soonyoung beamed at the mention of you, eyes sparkling with mischief at the thought of you falling right into his trap.
With a roll of his eyes, Jihoon ignored him and went back to his original goal of setting the table. He felt like the job was insignificant compared to something like making the mashed potatoes, but when Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Joshua were in the kitchen together, no one else was allowed to touch anything in there -- not even the microwave.
Soonyoung himself was banned from the kitchen year round after the Chuseok Pajeon Fire of 2021, an accident you were not only witness to. Back then, you and Vernon were the only ones calm -- aka not freaking out -- enough to be able to extinguish what could've been a real disaster. Since you were technically half the reason the paper towel caught on fire, though, you too were forbidden from Mingyu's sacred kitchen.
Making one last check that no area of the ceiling was left uncovered, Soonyoung gave himself a pat on the back and put away the stepladder. His phone chimed with the Duolingo correct answer noise (a ringtone you had chosen for yourself).
[🎄mistletoe victim🎄] can u come downstairs and help me? i brought too much stuff
He wasted no time in meeting you down in the apartment lobby, where you were waiting with a huge stack of shiny, jewel-toned gift boxes. You wore only jeans and a garish Christmas sweater, but somehow, you radiated merriness. Something about the holidays always made you more cheerful, which was why Soonyoung liked them so much (but he wouldn't tell you that).
As soon as you spotted him, you waved. "Merry Christmas! Can you help me with these ones?" You pointed at one of the piles. "You guys don't have a chimney, so we'll have to use the elevator."
While you laughed at your own joke, Soonyoung joined in as he scooped up each meticulously wrapped gift.
"Oh! Don't forget this one," you said, putting a small, navy blue box on top of the pile in his arms. He could barely see over the mountain of presents you'd brought.
The trek to the boys' apartment wasn't too long, but Soonyoung's excited anticipation to see you fall for his trap made it seem much longer. He was practically bouncing in his slippers by the time the elevator opened.
In his excitement, the small blue box tumbled off the pile of gifts onto the floor, somehow sliding in the opposite direction of the room and behind their floor neighbour's potted plants. Soonyoung went after it, but you kept onward to the apartment.
He struggled more than he thought he would at picking up the runaway box, having to put down the pile and push around the pots to actually find it. He heard distant laughter which he knew was you being greeted by the rest of the group, and something you said that he couldn't quite discern.
As quick as he could, he picked everything up again and ran to the doorway, only to be greeted with the image of you giving both Joshua and Mingyu quick pecks on their cheeks.
"Hey!" Soonyoung shrieked, roughly setting the presents on the floor. "You can't do that!"
It was directed at the boys you'd kissed, but there was no doubt you'd already done the same to the other guys in the room, judging by Seungkwan's playful smile and Jihoon's combination of a smug grin and crossed arms.
"Can't do what, Soonyoung?" Jihoon teased. "It's tradition."
Everyone nodded in agreement, all of you pointing up at the mistletoe-infested ceiling.
"This isn't how it's supposed to go!" he protested still. "It's not fair!"
"Aww," you cooed. "Does Soonyoungie want a kiss?"
Seungkwan and Joshua joined in, making those annoying thirteen-year-old-boy noises kids did when someone was in trouble.
Soonyoung sputtered, "No! No, I just--! It was--!"
You giggled at successfully turning his trap around, the holiday spirit making you more forgiving. "Don't worry, we can make things even right away."
Quick as a flash, you walked up to Soonyoung and placed one gentle hand on his shoulder, leaning in for a peck on the lips.
Mingyu was the one who started the loud, teasing noises this time before you followed them to the edge of the kitchen to see how dinner was going, leaving a starstruck Soonyoung in the entryway.
You didn't fall for his tricks this time.
No, it seems he fell for you instead.
#hoshi scenarios#hoshi x reader#hoshi imagines#hoshi fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#kwon soonyoung x reader#svt fluff#kwon soonyoung fluff#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen x reader#.100#kwon soonyoung imagines#svt imagines#kwon soonyoung scenarios#svt x reader
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Hi, can I please get Wally West x trans reader? Maybe something where the reader is feeling dysphoric and he comforts them, and also some dry humping?
Wally West x FTM reader
Headcanons
Readers vaguely based off of Daredevil, since I like that guy a lot. And the mental image of Wally and his gritty boyfriend is fun to me. Don’t correct me on if keystone city is right, idc.
Nobody could really tell when you and Wally started dating. You just happened to be a vigilante in Keystone city before Wally showed up after being kid flash and all that. His presence really messed up your mojo.
You were the devil incarnate, ready to break as many bones as it took, but you didn’t kill. That didn’t stop you from maiming folk though. Having Wally swoop by to bring people to the hospital and then be back to try and lecture you, really hurt your image.
You were there first though, so there was no way Wally was gonna stop you from doing what you had to do. In the beginning it was kind of like a new tomcat showing up in someone else’s territory.
You didn’t have the speed to be all over the city like Wally, so it was kind of accepted that hed take care of everything else when you were busy. People started begging for Wally to be the one to catch them doing a crime, since you’d break their kneecaps, and then nail them in the head with your billy club.
The relationship between you two was kind of a running joke in the league, especially in the Titans. They all knew that Wally thought you were hot in your own broody, horned way. Someone, probably Garfield, would joke about your suits matching, since you both were red. And yellow, if you wear the yellow and red daredevil suit.
You two were kinda like Batman and Superman, in a way. With you being broody, growly, the night, I am vengeance and will make you suffer the consequences. And Wally being easier going and lighter, full of jokes and hope.
That didn’t mean Wally couldn’t snap and get down and gritty if he needed to. That was probably when you started feeling attracted to him in return, when he couldn’t go easy on somebody who deserved it.
Up until this point you’d have picked up the changes in his pheromones and body heat, as well as his heartrate, which made you understand that he liked you. But it was after you smelled the blood on him and heard his blush rushing through his veins from an almost animalistic adrenaline that you started returning the feelings.
You guys probably date for months, if not a year before the league and the Titans figure it out. Wally would say something about needing to get back to the city since he had to make it in time for your anniversary dinner, and that’s when everyone would figure it out.
The two of you a very much opposites attract. Someone is gonna try to use your relationship with Wally to make you join the league, but he wards them off before you can break tall their teeth for even asking.
You being trans doesn’t matter much to Wally, outside of how it may affect your relationship. And by that I mean, if you for example don’t want him touching your torso or specific areas of your body, what wording to use, helping you with your T injections, so on and so forth.
Hes more perceptive than people think, at least after you guys have been dating a while. Hed start noticing the different signs that point at you feeling dysphoric. Like you going out for longer patrols because being the devil makes you feel more masculine. Or you wearing your binder for too long, if you need one of those.
I don’t think hes just gonna appear and demand answers, instead Wally has tried to figure out overtime what might help. He knows you aren’t the type to just talk about all your feelings and what can be done about it, so Wally would try to find other ways to be supportive and helpful.
You can always tell what he’s doing, since Wally starts going on about how handsome his boyfriend is, how manly you are and smell, how good your muscles look. Even if he’s buffer than you, you better expect him to drool over your muscles.
If you are fine with being touched, Wally would also just cuddle you when you have days where you struggle to look at yourself or even being in your own body. Hes always ready to talk or make changes if he can do anything to help, or just lay in silence if that’s what you need too, even if laying still for a longer time is difficult for a speedster.
Having a speedster boyfriend also means it’s easy to sense it’s him. Having the abilities you do, means you can point out any hero or villain you’ve met before, even in a crowd of a thousand. But the speedster’s connection to the speed force makes them so easy to point out.
It becomes a comfort for you, to feel the buzz that’s seemingly always present around Wally. It’s different around each speedster, but Wally is the most special out of all of them, to you anyways.
Having a speedster boyfriend also means you have access to something very few do, a boyfriend who can vibrate and who has close to no recovery period. This just means Wally is all over you on days where you are fine with that.
And if its one of those days where you want to get off to deal with dysphoria, you barely have to say anything before he’s on you, or beside you, or behind you.
Dysphoria means you don’t want to be touched skin on skin sometimes, and on days like this, good ol dry humping is just as good as anything else Wally could think up. Hes especially a fan when its him laying down and you on top.
It makes you seem so strong and in charge, even if your eyes can’t meet since well… you cant see like the average person. Wally is just giddy and almost buzzing out of his skin as you guys grind together, his hands shaking where they’re holding your hips.
Your heightened senses let you notice just how much he starts buzzing when he gets close. Other people would never notice until he’s just above to fall over the edge, but you can almost taste how his scent and pheromones start buzzing in the air when he’s turned on.
Hearing his heart race and his blood rushing through his body becomes a turn-on in its own way, just as much as grinding down on him and listening to him moan. Wally is also the type to kiss when you guys grind together, his tongue almost fizzy feeling against your own.
It becomes a lot easier to forget your dysphoria with a boyfriend like Wally, who does everything in his power to distract you from it, especially when he gets to rut against you and moan into your ear or neck. Just watch out for small sparks that might come off him, and that your senses don’t get too overwhelmed thanks to the speed force.
#male reader#wally west#kid flash#dc#young justice#justice league#wally west x male reader#wally west x reader#wally west imagine#wally west headcanon#ftm reader#dc x male reader#dc x reader#dc headcanon#dc imagine#young justice x male reader#young justice x reader#young justice imagine#young justice headcanon#dc x ftm reader#wally west x ftm reader#young justice x ftm reader#justice league imagine#justice league headcanon#justice league x male reader#justice league x reader#justice league x ftm reader#kid flash x male reader#kid flash x reader#kid flash imagine
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Hi, congrats on 2k! I was wondering if you could write Spencer Reid with Clean? Maybe something like Spencer got done with a bad case and is thinking about using but then reader helps him. Thanks!
Clean | S.R.
summary: When Spencer comes back from a bad case, you help him as best as you can; especially when his thoughts wander back to an unpleasant time in his life.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
includes: angst, fluff, addiction, drugging, talks about death, crying,
a/n: i love me some spencer reid 💛 (rules for celebration here!)
As a behavior analyst for the BAU in Quantico, it was your sole purpose to evaluate and look into potential criminals' mindsets. At first, you were hesitant to take the job they offered to you – not wanting to deal with so much pain in life. To your luck, they countered with an office job to manage the data collected by the agents who flew out to deal with the cases face to face instead. You were surprised to hear that they really wanted you on their team. Maybe it was because you took all the psychology classes in high school, or perhaps it was all TV shows you watched just to figure out how they ended in the first episode, but after much convincing by your family, you took the job.
It took adjusting and many days of learning everyone’s name before you could get comfortable with the people you worked with. Especially the team that went out for the cases.
Gideon and Hotch — and eventually Rossi — always scared you just a bit, but you learned they cared for you like a daughter. Emily, Penelope, and JJ loved you more than their job. They always hung back with you whenever they had spare time. Derek did his best not to tease you with how young you started working with the BAU, but soon realized how similar you and Spencer were. Ultimately calling you pretty girl in comparison to Spencer's pretty boy.
When you first met Spencer, you swore you both awkwardly froze and avoided each other until JJ forced the both of you to get along. It wasn't like you disliked him — it was the opposite. You only began to get closer to Spencer when he would bring you hot chocolate every day because of the one time he bumped into you and spilled your drink all over the floor.
Eventually he did ask you out on a date and the rest became history.
You even helped him get clean when the incident happened years ago. That case made reality sink in quickly, especially when you got the emergency call from JJ in Atlanta, Georgia. That was the closest you had ever come to joining the traveling team.
Over the years, you made sure to keep Spencer in check. It scared you to even think about him going back to addiction. Yes, he handled tough cases, but he always knew you were there to help him. Until the most recent case. Where the most recent victim looked exactly like his daughter.
"Hey, when did you guys get back?" You raised your brows in surprise when you found Spencer spinning a pen in between his fingers at his desk. "I didn't get a text from you—?"
"My phone died." He muttered and looked up at you, eyes tired and overworked. Within seconds, you were pulled into his arms as his head found its way into your neck. "Missed you and Liv lots."
"We missed you too, Spence." You wrap your arms around him and rub his back. You let him settle into your arms before you separated and sat on his desk, confused at his sudden affection. "I haven't looked at this case yet. What happened?"
The storm outside thundered, causing him to jump and clasp your hand in his own. You frowned and squeezed his hand, head tilting to the side. Spencer was never this afraid of rain, especially when Olivia loved the rain and always asked the both of you to play in the rain whenever you were both home. So you did what you do best — analyze him based on his behavior.
"Uhm, the victim was kidnapped and drugged until she nearly passed away from how much was injected into her veins." He felt for your pulse and counted how many times you heartbeat passed in a minute. "We were cutting it close with time when she got to the hospital."
You watched the way he kept pushing his hair back and readjusting his glasses. He was constantly fidgeting, which made you frown. He fidgeted plenty, but this felt like it traced a little deeper than the surface showed.
Pursing your lips, you stared at his shaking hands and met his brown eyes. "Spence... There's something more to it, isn't there?"
He swallowed and nodded, voice coming out quieter than intended. His hold on your hand tightened as he spoke, eyes shutting like he was in pain. "She uh... She looked just like Olivia, just older."
Your heart broke when you heard his voice crack. He hadn't thought about his own addiction in a while, and seeing a girl who looked like his daughter having a similar experience had him spiraling. You saw the look in his eyes, how scared he was to ever think of losing you or losing Olivia in the process of going back to addiction. He seemed to overthink the entire situation. If that was his own daughter — who he prayed wouldn't ever be harmed in any of his cases — he probably would've quit on the spot.
"Listen to me, Spence." You start and took both hands in your own, smiling softly when you saw his wedding ring adorning his hand. It had been a couple of years since you married him, but every time you saw the matching rings, you were instantly transported back to the day.
You squeezed his hand and kissed the back of them three times, one thing you began doing since you started dating. "Olivia and I know you will do everything in your power to be there for us. We also know you would do everything not to go back to drugs, you know why?" When he stared at you with wet eyes, you continued, your own voice cracking. "Because you love us too much to ever risk yourself to a life of addiction. You have grown so much and we both know you would hate yourself forever if Liv saw you injecting Dilaudid into your own arm."
He stayed quiet and listened to your words intently. Even with his IQ of 187, he knew you were right. He had thought about going back, letting the drugs take him back to the dark place he said he never wanted to go back to. But as always, you pulled him out of the dangerous waves before the water could fill his lungs. You were one of the only people who could hear his cries without anything being said.
You brought a hand up and wiped a stray tear falling from his eye, like you could hear his unspoken thoughts. "I know you Spencer Walter Reid. I can read you like the back of my hand, and not because that's my job, but because you let me know you."
Like a surge of the perfect storm brewing outside, he cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was filled with all his stored emotions from one singular case. You could feel the desperation, love, need. He sought out for you in his darkest times. You kept him clean all these years and he wasn't going to let that streak die because of a hard case.
You and Spencer both went to pick Olivia up from her ballet lessons, wanting to surprise her. And boy was she happy to see both her parents. When she heard the bell ring above the studio's front door, her head peek above the half wall and met her parents' eyes. She but all squealed in happiness and rushed over to Spencer first, jumping into his arms and grabbing his face in her small hands.
"Hi, daddy!" She giggled and squished his cheeks, her pink tutu splayed over him. "I missed you a lot! Like, more than the entire world a lot."
"I missed you too, Liv." He smiled and kissed her cheek, lowering his head to whisper into her ear. "Have you been good for mommy while I was away?"
She tilted her head and gave him a cheeky grin, reading him as well as you could. "I'm always good for mommy."
You raised your eyebrow at her and tickled her sides before kissing her cheek as well. She was the sun that shooed all the dark clouds from Spencer's mind. Of course, she would never know that. Not until she understood everything her father went through to be there for her.
"Go get your stuff so we can get home. I'm sure daddy is tired and wants to hear all your stories from school." You nod your head toward her pink backpack, the different keychains and trinkets Spencer bought her hanging from every zipper.
"Oh, daddy, I have so many stories to tell you! Like that one time—!"
"Get your stuff first, Liv." He let her down from his arms and chuckled when she ran toward the cubbies, stuffing all her belongings into her bag.
You perched your chin on his shoulder and looped your arm around his — the both of you watching your daughter with loving eyes. He understood what it meant to be BAU Special Agent, but he also understood what it meant to be a husband and father. He knew that the balance between work and home was difficult, but he would do anything to keep his family safe. Would he quit? No, you would never let him. But he would ensure that his thoughts would never wander back to such a dark place.
He would stay clean just for you and Olivia.
"I love you." He whispered to you and turned his head to meet your eyes, smile echoing your own. "Like more than the whole world."
You laugh softly and kiss his cheek, "I love you too, Spence. Don't ever forget it."
©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
#august’s works 🫧#august’s ts works 🪩#august’s 2k celebration 🩷#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid angst#spencer reid request#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid is my husband#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid my beloved#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid cm#spencer reid comfort#criminal minds
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In At Least Three Universes, You and I Are Friends
#fire emblem#feh#you know what. i'm also racing against how fucking sleepy i am.#i think i GOTTA. GOTTA. FUCK IT UP GO INTO DETAIL TOMORROW. AT LEAST#but i really really really just. now or never i need to get it out of me. BEGONE#that sounds rude i'm not bitter about anything here ACTUALLY. THE OPPOSITE. IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME#IT'S EVERYTHING. SO MUCH. ALL OF IT#i feel like SO much of everything i've been doing. has culminated into this.#another companion piece would be the alfonse 40 convo. when. I GET TO IT#but please please please read into everything here. there is SO MUCH HERE.#i want to gush more later and i wanna post close ups like i always do. but here i'm trying#maybe to have it be a standalone piece? idk idk#TIRED. EXTRACTING IT. FROM MY HEART#and like yhe one thousand other disorganized thoughst i had today.#good luck.#fe alfonse#moe tag#summoner oc#my art#my comics
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Die With A Smile, touya todoroki
𓆤࣭ ─ dabi/touya todoroki x sweet!reader, angst!, fluff, also i think i used the words “sweet” and “soft” about a million times, but reader is that, so.. dabi literally doesn't care of readers existence at first sob sob. highly inspired by “die with a smile” by bruno and gaga mwach, hence the title. sad ending! teeny tiny smutty moment, but it doesn't go into detail :( so sfw! idk how to write these tbh. strangers to friends to lovers(?) he calls her “doll” eeee sniff sniff! they're so in love <3 it's my first time ever writing & posting so please be nice! it was fun writing this! super short and sweet. no big plot. just for shits and giggles he he #1 touya fan !! i have such a fat crush on him i miss him sm waaa okay enjoy <3
When Dabi first laid his eyes on you, he didn’t care to spare a second glance. Why would he? You were just another member of the League, another cog in the machine of Shigaraki’s grand design, and he had no interest in entertaining the presence of another needless human who played no part in his own personal plans.
You, with your annoyingly bright smile, that would light up your entire face, and that stupid little cat you keep around you, always toting around with it. He didn’t care. But you did play a big role in the League. You were useful. Born with a healing quirk, you were vital. Shigaraki Tomura didn’t need more crew members on his ship, but when he saw you, healing a battered up and bruised stray kitty in a filthy, sketchy alleyway near the hideout, how could he not take you in?
Dabi recalled the first time you spoke to him. Your voice of sincerity. Delicate. Gentle. Voice like an angel. Nourishing. It had weight to it. He’d thought that alone could heal his every wound and scar. You introduced yourself. Simple. So soothing. “I’m Yn. Nice to meet you all!” You had said. Smile oh so evident on your face. Luminous. That’s the first thing he noticed. No... second. Your bright ass smile. What the fuck were you smiling so bright for?
He remembers. He remembers when you first went on a mission together. He’d assumed.. quite smugly, actually, that you couldn’t fight for shit, but man, despite only possessing a healing quirk, your combat skills surprised him. He hated that it impressed him. But he didn’t care. He doesn’t care.
But it began happening.. slowly. You, chipping away at his defenses.
𓆤─
After a particularly tough mission, Dabi returned more bruised than anticipated. His skin burned. Sizzling. Hot. Irritated. But he can’t feel. He doesn’t want to feel. Pain was an old friend. But just maybe, he does.
And so, with gentleness, you took him by his hand, guiding him to a nearby chair, sitting him down, and began curing his ruined, roughed up skin with your oh so soothing magic. Hands of an angel.
He didn’t question it. Sat. Silently. Letting you do your thing.
“You need be more careful,” you said. Your voice so sweet it felt like a whisper against the chaos of his existence.
Those words lingered, and he smirks thinking about it now. Battered and bruised, just like the stray cat, before fate brought you two together. In the same position, once again, just like when you had said those words.
...
And so, began a stupid little friendship, if he dared to call it that.. You and Dabi were opposites in every conceivable way, like Sun and Moon. And yet, you gravitated toward each other. You both clicked.
Nights blurred into days, most of which were spent in his room, or yours. Banter, mindless chatter, quiet conversations, and the softest of giggles coming out of your pretty lips from an unintended joke. He enjoyed it. Found an odd sense of comfort in it. Solace. He'd often find himself craving it. The cycle would repeat, and you'd become a constant.
He's thinking. Smiling. How he would love to feel your warm hands against his stomach, despite the already burning sensation he’s feeling deep in.
His thoughts drift again.
𓆤─
He's sat alone one night, in the silence of his room, his thoughts twisting around anger and vengeance.. fear..
You knocked softly at his door.
“Dabi?” you call, hesitant. As quietly as possible, as you peak through the open gap of the door.
He doesn’t answer, tense hands buried in his dark hair.
“Can I come in?” voice still so timid and soft.
Still, no answer. And yet, you enter.
Warmth. Your body against his. You embrace him, enveloping him completely. Your softness against his harsh scars. Yours against his. Yours. Yours. Yours.
And for the first time, he let's himself hold you. His arms are around yours, tight. So tight. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go. You, the only thing tethering him to this world. And then he tells you. He tells you everything. His past. His bitch of a father, Endeavor. Touya.
That’s when he first feels it. Plush, soft. Always soft. Always you. And he presses. Applies pressure to your lips. Putty. That’s what you both are. Your hands in his messy hair, pulling against his locks gently. His, caressing your waist, your cheek, in your hair. Everywhere. He wants you, wants all of you. He kisses with urgency and need. He wants to memorize you.
And when you’re under him, moon illuminating your features, hair messy, pretty, hands in his hair, still. Your lips on his, still. Legs wrapped around his waist, forehead pressed against eachother. Warm breaths mingling. He decides. Wherever you go, he’ll follow. He wants to be next to you. With all of you. He wants to hold you. Wants to hold all of you.
...
Dabi chuckles, liquid dripping down from his dried up mouth, dyeing his shirt red. Crimson. Metallic. Down his nose and chin. How did he end up in this situation.
...
You lay entwined in his arms, light breeze blowing from the open window. Early morning sun, golden against your body and his.
“Touya?” you say softly, head against his chest, tracing little doodles onto his chest.
“Hm?” He let you. Touya, he thinks to himself. He let’s you call him that. Sounds freeing. Comforting, playing with his name against your lips. He likes it.
“Alright, if. If the world was ending? What’s the last thing you wanna do?”
He scoffs, small smirk evident on his lips. “Why the question.”
You perk, looking up at him, eyes big and glossy. You’re perfect, he thinks. “I’m curious..”
His hand finds itself in your hair brushing it back absentmindedly, gently. Doesn’t stop. Fingers coming though them. “Then stop bring curious.”
“Touya.”
“Yn.”
You sit up, sheets falling off your body like silk. You're facing him now, cross legged. “Seriously. What’s the last thing you’d do” You press.
He rolls his eyes.
“I don’t know. You tell me. What would you wanna do?”
You smile. Pretty, he thinks.
“A lot of things.”
“Fuck that. You can only choose one.”
You whine. Telling him there’s time. Some shit about the “few hours before it actually is the end of the world.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fine. The last 10 minutes. If the world was ending, and you had only 10 minutes, what are you doing.”
You think. Pouty, Pretty. So fucking cute.
Then you shrug. A sigh, lying your forhead against his chest. “Probably eat my favorite food. I can’t think of anything else.”
He laughs.
"Hm," you smile, looking up. “Your turn.”
Dabi looks into your eyes, his turquoise orbs, looking, admiring, studying. His thumb brushing against your cheek.
“What?” You say, cheeks flushing, a blush pink hue forming.
“Next to you.”
“Huh” You ask, small frown forming, confusion evident on your sweet face.
His voice soft, that of love, and tenderness. “If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you.”
You freeze. Silence. Your cheeks flushing, once again. Shy, pretty, as you process his words. Then, with a smile that could rival the sun, you kiss him deeply, harder than ever before.
“I love you, Touya” you whisper against his lips.
…
“Wait… but mine isn’t as good as yours…” you frown.
𓆤─
Touya laughs again. He laughs at you, and your stupid little questions. He laughs at your frown, the one that forms everytime you’re even the slightest bit confused. He laughs at your smile, so bright. Your cheeks, the ones that flush whenever he teases you. He laughs at you.
Then, he cries. Blood, again. Trickling down his cheek. Like it’s doing down the rest of his body. The blood soaks his shirt.
And so, he keeps laughing. Laughing at the fucked up situation he’s in. Laughing at his thoughts before he met you. At Endeavor, and his stupid, little brother. Laughing at his heart. His feelings. His emotions. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
And he remembers again. 10 minutes.
And he hears. Touya. Your voice. Calling out his real name. He could hear you say his name forever. Like music to his ears. Butter. Smooth. Loving. Caring. So full of fucking love.
Touya. Say it again.
Touya. Again, please..
“Touya!” His eyes open, bloody, sticky. Your voice shatterring the silence.
“Touya” You cry, soft, warm hands frantically caressing his bloody face.
No. fuck, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.
“You’ll be okay. Alright, just- just stay with me, Please.” You say breathlessly, hands brushing his disheveled hair back, touching anywhere you can.
He feels warm again. Your hands, against his abdomen, his chest.
You’re healing him. Trying. You're hurt too. Shit.
He laughs again, tears still rolling his cheeks.
Tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Yn” He says, barely there. Whispered, in pain. It hurts to swallow, it hurts to speak. Everything hurts.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You choke out tears. “I promise. Just stay awake. Alright. Just-“
“Doll.” His weak hand goes up to his chest, wrapping around yours. Tightly, forever.
You sniff, sobbing “No”
“It’s okay.” He smiles. Fuck it hurts. “I promise.”
“Yeah. You- you’ll be oka-“
“Remember... remember 10 minutes?”
“Ten-… Touya wha-“ He smiles again.
You frown. Cute. He really does have a soft spot for you.
“I’m glad it came true.”
Suddenly it clicks.
“No. No Touya. You’re gonna be fine. I promise. Please. Just-“ Your sobs grow louder.
“I love you, Yn.”
Sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks, hands tightly clenched in his, forehead pressed against his blood soaked chest, “I love you too. I love you so much, Touya.”
Touya smiles. Because fuck, despite being here, after everything… He’s here, with you, next to you.
it's a lil boring lol but i had fun doing this so! tysm for reading <3
#dabi x reader#touya x reader#anime#my hero acedamia#touya todoroki#mha dabi#bnha dabi#bnha touya#dabi x y/n#dabi x oc#touya x y/n#touya x oc#touya x you#boku no hero academia#my hero academia x reader#dabi x reader fluff#mha angst#angst with a sad ending#mha imagines#fanfic#mha fanfiction#my hero academy fanfiction#masterlist#fluff and angst#oneshot#mha x reader#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x reader#todoroki family
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terrible twos
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'christmas'
all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!
rated m | 702 words | cw: referenced sex | tags: established relationship, fluff, christmas cookies, the awful stage of toddlerhood that parents barely survive
2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣
“Daddy! Up!” Sawyer is making grabby hands at Eddie, and Eddie can’t do anything but give in. His hands may be busy rolling cookie dough, but there’s nothing that would stop him from holding his son.
The terrible twos hit early and they hit hard.
Steve insists Rory never had it quite like this, but at barely a year and a half old, Sawyer is always one ‘no’ away from a meltdown. He’s been very independent, and with that independence, he hasn’t wanted to be held unless he’s hurt.
If he’s asking to come up now, Eddie’s gonna do it.
“Cookie?” He asks and Eddie shakes his head.
“Not yet, little dude. It’s still gotta bake in the oven.”
Sawyer’s lip pouts out. “Peas?”
He hears Steve and Rory in the next room, probably playing NHL since that was the gift she wanted most this year. He won’t interrupt them, but Sawyer might if he starts screaming about not having a cookie.
“You can have the first one when it’s done cooking,” Eddie tries to appease him.
Not that he gives in at tantrums. Quite the opposite.
It’s just that it’s Christmas and Sawyer isn’t old enough to understand that he can’t eat raw cookie dough, so this tantrum would be kind of understandable.
“Daddy peas,” Sawyer says again, reaching for the dough on the counter. “Cookie mine?”
“You can pick which one you want when I cut them and you can have it as soon as it’s out of the oven,” Eddie allows. He hopes that’s enough,
“Cookie mine now?”
“Not now. In a tiny bit,” Eddie tries to distract him with the cookie cutters. “Pick a shape. We have Christmas trees…and candy canes…”
“Cookie!”
Eddie laughs, tries to keep his composure at what is surely escalating into a code red situation.
“It’ll be a cookie in any shape, silly goose. What about a nutcracker?” Eddie holds up the shape, but realizes it’s too late.
He’s lost.
“Down! Dada!” Sawyer is kicking his legs to get down and Eddie lets him. But he isn’t going to let him interrupt Steve’s time with Rory, not over this.
“How about a different treat?” Eddie tries, offering the first thing he sees: a piece of chocolate from someone’s stocking. “It’s got caramel!”
Sawyer pauses, thinks about it, shakes his head. His little curls bounce around almost comically as his face starts to get red.
“How about a candy cane?” Eddie offers instead, desperate.
“You wanna push buttons to shoot the puck?” Rory asks from the doorway, Steve right behind her with a knowing look.
“Shoot da puck? Sawyer shoot?” Sawyer asks, distracted enough that Eddie can breathe out.
God, having a toddler with the same temperament he had as a kid is hard. He feels like sending Wayne a fruit basket, maybe a blank check with his signature on it.
“Up!” He runs to Rory, who scoops him up and carries him to the living room, letting him babble mostly nonsensical things the entire way.
Eddie flops to the floor and looks up at Steve.
“How much longer until he’s a reasonable human?”
Steve snorts. “Could be days. Could be years.”
Steve joins him on the floor, reaching out to lace their fingers together. The sound of Sawyer cheering for Rory fills the house and Eddie smiles to himself.
“Did he at least pick a shape for his cookie?” Steve asks.
“Nope. And I don’t even think I have the energy to make them anymore.”
“You want some help?” Steve offers.
Eddie turns his head and watches Steve smirking up at the ceiling.
“Are you gonna make dick shapes when I’m not looking?”
“I’d never.”
Eddie squints his eyes at Steve. “You did last year. I had to shove it in my mouth so no one would see.”
“Don’t act like you’re not used to shoving a dick in your mouth,” Steve laughs.
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Alright. Watch yourself. We’ve still got hours before anyone’s dick is in anyone’s mouth. And at least four dozen cookies to bake. And a toddler to control.”
Steve kisses him quickly, just a peck. A promise for later.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” Steve says.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie holiday drabbles#steddie events#stranger things#steve harrington x eddie munson#bear hugs universe#christmas
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