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iamsherlocked1479 · 1 year ago

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Chapter Fifteen

“Are the jumpers really necessary?” You sulk as your aunt readjusts you position for the 5th time

“Of course they are, it's a Christmas card matching jumpers are essential dear.” She grabs your cheek and pulls it playfully before setting the timer on the camera, again. “Big smiles.” She said through gritted teeth. You sigh and plaster a fake smile to your face trying not to blink as the camera's flash burns a hole through your retinas.

“And who are these for again?” You rub your eyes, trying to get the light from your eyes

“Your great half aunt and her family.” She smiled as she checked the camera again. “Perfect.” She let out a sigh of relief.

“I’ve never even met these people. Why does it matter?” You say itching your collar

“Because I won’t be around forever, and it’s always important to have a family. And you have met them.” She smiled

“When?” You asked and her brows raised “oh, the funeral.” You vaguely remember your parent’s funeral, you were fairly young and all you could remember was trying to block out people explaining a car crash to you for the fifteen millionth time that day. It wasn’t exactly up there for the best Christmas, yet again any Christmas after that never really felt the same. You went quiet for a moment and your aunt gave you a half hug.

“I know you don’t always enjoy this time of year but it's different now, new faces, new memories to be made.” You hugged her back and left her to her work. You could hear voices complaining from your sitting room.

“A devilish time of year brother, far more children on the streets .” Ugh, it's Mycroft, he wasn’t exactly on your guest list for the perfect Christmas.

“I agree brother, but it's not all that bad.” Sherlock's voice replied

“Don’t start with all that.” Mycroft huffs

“Jealous?” Sherlock is quick to reply.

“How could he be? Women aren’t exactly his thing.” You enter with a half smile towards Mycroft, he huffed and twirled his umbrella around.

“Is patronising me also part of this arrangement?” He chewed the inside of his cheek hoping his knowledge of whatever was going on between you and Sherlock would bring some form of annoyance to you.

“Don’t try to intimidate her brother.” Sherlock interrupted

“It's fine he’s a smart boy, if anyone was going to figure it out it would be him.” You patted his cheek playfully and he huffed

“Yet I can’t figure out why you’re still wearing that.” He replied, you looked confused at first but then realised when you looked down at the hideous ball of wool wrapped around your body. “And with that I shall take my leave, goodbye brother. And think about it” He said, closing the door behind him, not even waiting for sherlocks reply. You huffed and pulled the jumper over your head revealing a tight tank top.

“Shame, I was hoping there’d be nothing under that.” Sherlock querked.

“Well it's not christmas just yet.” You smiled and pulled a box from under the table and brushed it off. “This Christmas will be different, I hope so anyway i'm due some good luck at some point this year.” You pulled out various coloured tinsel and lights from the box and began looking for places to put them around the apartment.

“If it were me, I’d consider not dying after being kidnaped by a psycho maniac a win but that's just my daily routine.” He moved to the sofa and slumped onto it, staring at the ceiling.

“He was never going to kill me sherlock.” You sigh decorating the windows with tinsel.

“What do you mean?” He lifted his head in your direction.

“What I mean is he was using me to mess with you, plus I think he liked me.” You laugh

“I doubt it, a man like that doesn’t have the capacity.” He laid back down as you walked over, gold tinsel in hand.

“Please, everyone has something they want, plus i never thought you had the capacity.” You cleared your throat “excuse me i need to stand on here to put this up.” you nudge his waist with your knee and he doesn’t budge. You sigh and pull yourself onto the couch, with your legs parted and Sherlock lying between them as you hang the tinsel up.

“I’m not a fan of this new position.” sherlock huffed

“Then you should have moved.” you smiled looking down at him

“Though it has its pleasant views, but” he pulled your leg down so you straddled his waist. “This i much more prefer.” He smiled and began raking kisses down your neck, you hummed as he lifted your arms and pulled your shirt over your head discarding it somewhere in the room, his lips grazed over the top of your nipples and you moaned rocking into his half hard crotch. He looked down and helped you undo his belt

“Wait, wait. Hang on. Aunt Martha are you there?” You shut down, there was no answer “she must have gone out.” You pulled off your shorts and felt his tip pressing against your soaked core.

“That's all it takes to get you soaked huh?” He spoke into your ear as you positioned yourself on top of him, sinking down slowly. You began to rock and he assisted by begging to slowly thrust into you. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck love the way you tighten around me.” He groaned and you bounced in front of him. His hands snaked up your body and and pulled your bra down to watch your tits bounce pawing at them with his dexterous fingers.

“Fuck sherlock, feels so good.” Your voice breaks as his cock reaches your g-spot hitting it again and again. Your orgasm began building slowly, burning its way through your nervous system. His hands began to focus on your swollen neglected clits as he twirled his fingers around it.

“Fuck- i’m going to cum shit, want you to cum too.” He sat up pulling you in closer to him, sliding you up and down his thick cock. He pulsed into you scraping along your walls allowing your body to release under him. Your body seized and trembled as he pounded into you, his knuckles whitened as he gripped your waist spilling his white ropes spewed into you.

“I’m supposed to be putting up decorations.” You sigh laughing as he flopped back down, watching the way his chest rises and falls.

“I prefer this.” He gasped

“Y/n? You home?” Louise shouted from downstairs.

“Uh, yup, wait there just a minute.” You shouted down, stumbling off Sherlock, you fell to the ground sending a large bang down the halls.

“Everything okay up there?” Louise laughed

“Yep!” You shout down, you look at Sherlock who had tucked himself away, still laying on the couch. “Underwear?”

“Uhh, I don’t know?” He replied, you rolled your eyes and ran up to your room, quickly changing into some more suitable clothes. You didn’t forget you were meant to be going Christmas shopping, you simply just lost track of time. You hurried down the stairs, and grabbed your coat and brushed yourself off.

“So is Sherlock up there?” She asks suspiciously

“Erm, No?” You lie

“So you were just talking to yourself?” She inquired, tilting her head

“Well-“

“I know you slept with him, it's not a big secret.” She laughed as you followed her out the door

“Try not to say it out loud.” You snap back

“Why not? You’re a terrible liar” she said getting into the car.

“I know, I just can’t be bothered to deal with the look we’ll get when they realise Sherlock is in a relationship.” You sigh.

“Fair point, where too first?” She asked.

You spent most of the day gossiping and buying your friends gifts. Most people were easy to buy for and with John and Mary having a baby soon it was pretty obvious what to get them, it's not like alcohol was on the table. You eventually found yourself in a small cafe stopping off to get a hit drink to relieve yourself from the December air.

“Who's that for?” You point to the leather jacket in one of Louise's bags.

“Oh you know, for a guy.” She says quietly “well, my boyfriend i should say, it's been official for a couple weeks now.”

“Oooohh” you say playfully “And why haven’t i heard about this mysterious man?” You stir your coffee.

“Well, he’s a bit, well shy really and im not one to boast about relationships.” She exclaimed

“Sure you’re not.” One of your brows raised “is he shy or not much of a lucker. Do i know him?” You question her and she blushes.

“No he’s not ugly, and you probably do know him and ouch I don’t show off relationships.” She says with a slightly raised voice.

“Okay, okay” you hold up your hands “im sorry, so what do you mean, i probably know him?”

“Well you know, he travels alot.” She shrugs

“Mhm” your eyes narrow “anything else you can give me?”

“Uh no not really” she laughs again nervously “But anyways, what are you going to get Sherlock for Christmas?”

“Am i supposed to get him something?” You ask talking through your drink

“Well you’re dating right?” She tilts her head

“No why would-

“”I heard you both this morning.” She says bluntly

“Right, well I don’t know, we erm i don't think he likes Christmas.” You arrange the sugar packets in front of you. Where would you even start with getting him a gift? He’d probably guess what it was anyway.

“Well does he need anything? Soap? Manners.”

“Oh come on” you roll your eyes “uhh well, he needs a scarf. The last one ended up covered in blood.” You say casually as she looks at you with an obvious reaction

“You know what I'm not even going to ask.” She looked away and her phone began to buzz. You look at the screen as she picks it up and see the letter T with a heart next to it.

Who could that be? You wonder, you try your best not to listen in but you hear something about having left something or a dog needing to be taken care of.

“Who’s that?” You asks as she puts down the phone

“Just the guy.” She smiles packing up her things.

“The guy?” You say one brow raised “why so secretive?”

“Well its a new thing you know.”

“Riiight. You’re not supposed to be with him are you?” You guess

“What? No I um, I have to go.” She rushes out of the cafe leaving you shouting questions behind her

“Is he married?!” You laugh. She was right though , you couldn’t not get Sherlock a present, maybe nobody would think it was strange if you got him a scarf. You wonder the streets heading back towards the apartment and come across a small taylors with suits, hats and scarfs in the window. The bell rings as you enter the store and a kind woman appears from behind the counter.

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” She smiles

“I was wondering if could buy a scarf, particularly that blue one in the window?.” You point to a blue scarf similar to the design of his old one.

“Of course thats just a display one but i can have one made for you?” She asks

“Sure.” You smile handing her the money labelled on the price tag

“Would you like and messages embroidered into the end? They’re not very obvious so it could be anything.” She says with the same warm smile she greeted you.

You thought for a moment, it would make it a but more intimate and if he didn’t like it, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Sure why not.”

You left the store clutching your prize close to you all the way home, by the time you were outside the door a familiar car was parked outside with the same woman who always gave you dirty looks. Like Sherlock's brother, she obviously didn’t think kindly of you and if she was outside then Mycroft was here again. You good mood was interrupted by the sounds of arguing, you sighed ignoring the comotion and hid all the gifts in your room.

“Y/n come down.” Mycroft's irritating voice echoed from downstairs “this instant” he demanded. You huffed and came down to find sherlock frantically pacing

“What's up with him?” You ask as sherlock mutters something and crashes onto his arm chair

“You let him get high again didn’t you.” Mycroft points his umbrella at you

“What?! No I didn’t im clean what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, I won’t stand for whatever this is between you, you’re bad news.” He snipes walking towards you, trying his best to intimidate you.

“Stop it isn’t her fault.” Sherlock stood up standing in between you and Mycroft.

“I beg to differ brother, she has.” He pauses and makes eye contact with you “irrational tendencies, just look how her mother turned out.” Your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward being blocked by sherlock. Mycroft grinned at the sight of your anger. “Now Sherlock answers my question.”

“Ermm what was I going to say? Ah yes bye bye.” Sherlock moved to the door and opened it gesturing for his brother to leave. Mycroft moved in front of him, trying to intimidate his younger brother

“Unwise brother-mine.” Sherlock grabbed Mycroft by the wrist and pushed him to the door frame causing him to yelp in pain.

“Brother-mine” he said into his ear “Don’t appal me when i'm high.” Sherlock hissed and tightened his grip on his older brother. You smiled as you stepped closer to Mycroft

“I’m going to say to say this as i’ll say as an acquaintance, leave and if you think it was me, i suggest you find evidence first.” You encouraged him, Sherlock let him go and he left the apartment only missing some of his ego.

“Well now that thats over.” Sherlock sighed and went to sit in his chair.

“Oh no its not.” You grabbed the back of his collar and spun him round gripping the gap in his shirt. “Im not sure how i feel about this.” He says

“Where is it come on” you demand

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lies

“The heroin Sherlock, where is it?” You to e darkens and his brow raises.

“Fine, over there.” He looks over to the skull on the fire place. You walk over and take a vile out from the skull. “You know how difficult it is to drill into a human skull without it shattering?” He watches as you move into the kitchen. You take the vile and place it in the sink, you cover it with a tea towel and smash it. You lift the tower up and rinse away the liquid.

“There now your brother can’t accuse me.” You turn to Sherlock who now looks defeated.

“I do apologise for my dear old brother’s behaviour.” He moved to you spinning you around to face him. His lips pressed against yours desperately, almost apologetically. “Can i show you how sorry i am?” He said kissing down your neck.

“I like the sound of that.” You hummed as he dropped to his knees, that was a sight. Sherlock holmes, on his knees for you. He pulled down your trousers and underwear in one swift moment he kissed your clit and slid his tongue through your folds. A moan escaped your throat and your hand made its way through his thick curl’s pushing his face closer into you. He hummed in delight at your taste he spread your legs further apart and began using his tounge to fuck you while his fingers played with your clit. “Fuck, thats good” you say leaning on the counter top.

“Don't get used to me being on my knees sweetheart. It’ll be your turn soon.” He looked licking his lips before returning for another taste. He lifter one of your legs over his shoulder allowing him to penetrate you even deeper with his tongue. Your clit swelled with over stimulation, it sent a signal that burned its way through your nervous system causing your legs to buck and you to cry out his name mixed with various curse words. Sherlock got up, straightening out his creased shirt and fixing his ruffled hair, for a moment you forgot how much taller than you he was. He wiped a strand of hair that stuck to your forehead and lifted your face with one finger pushing up your chin. “Let's have some fun.” He held out his hand and you took it gladly. He lead you out the kitchen towards his room. You had never been in his room before, it surprised you as being fairly normal, the blue walls matched his bedding the only real evidence this was sherlock's rooms was the poster of the periodic table and skeleton that was more than likely real human bone.

He flopped onto his bed pulling you on top of him, you could feel his hardness pressing against your core begging to be released, you began to grind yourself against him as you helped unbutton his shirt. He removed your top and bottoms with ease as you undid his belt. You waisted no time sliding down onto him groaning with pleasure as he filled you up.

“You’re beginning to take me so well sweetheart.” He said swiftly rutting his hips upwards, it sent a sharp sensation of pleasure into you, you rocked yourself on him bouncing up and down as the sound of your thighs slapping him added to the smell of sex that flooded the room. His hands were gripped firmly on your ass as he bounced you up and down, he kneaded the fat gripping hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. His pelvis pushed into your clit lighting the fuse leading you to your orgasm.

He bucked his hips hard enough for him to gather the strength to be able to flip you over. You laid face down on the mattress as he parted your legs and lifted your hips. He took a moment to slide his hands through your slick, gathering some of your arousal and jerking himself with it.

“Wanna see that cunt dripping with my cum.” He said rutting into you, he slipped back where he belonged. It felt so good, the feeling of him pushing his weight down onto you, holding you in place, helping you to reach your climax. And oh you were so close, he knew this and one of his hands slipped under your stomach and began to play with your clit, that did it, the mattress did its best trying to muffle your moans

“Fu- sherlock, i- shit so goddamn good.” You cried

“Thats it good girl, fuck squeezing around me. So perfect wanna fill you up.” His thrust became more frantic as he chased his own orgasm, he kept muttering something to himself you couldn’t understand. He groaned as you felt the heat of his thick white ropes shooting into you, he pushed them In further with one final thrust he pulled out to admire his work.

You were a mess, face down panting with his seed dripping from you. He took his hand through your folds one more time smiling as you winced at the over stimulation of him pushing his cum back into you.

“I like this image, I'll have to delete something to remember it.”

“Well it won’t be the solar system for sure, might wanna make room for that.” You laughed to yourself as you turned back onto your back.

“Don’t get smart now honey, or i’ll have you tied to that bed next time.” He moves to one of his drawers and pulls out a pair of boxers and a shirt. It was the purple one you loved so much, the one that squeezed his arms just right. “Here.” He tosses it to you and disappears to the bathroom. Your nose was filled with his scent, you were covered in it, his shirt, his pillows and his sheets. And you lied there with his cum still dripping from you. He returned wearing the boxers and a warm washcloth, he used it to wipe your entrance smiling at the way you still moaned even with this touch. You put on his shirt leaving the top two buttons undone and laid next to him.

He wasn’t one for showing physical affection, so you settled with the fact he laid his arm around your shoulder and trailed his finger along your neckline.

“Sherlock?” You asked

“Mm?” He said with his eyes closed

“What was Mycroft doing here earlier this morning?” You asked, his hand paused and his eyes opened

“My brother dearest was offering me a case, i'm still unsure about taking it.” He says looking down at you.

“Why?” You ask, if it was worth his time, he’d do it.

“Don’t worry about it.” He turned his head facing the ceiling and just stared

“Okay then, but it will be good for you to do a case, i say take it.” You plant a kiss on his cheek but he doesn’t react. You gently lay your head down and fall asleep. Sherlock looks down at you and sighs. A small smile dawns his face for a second, but then it fades

“I don’t think you’re going to like this case.” He says to himself “you’re going to hate me.”

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OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY HSAVEN'T BEEN POSTING, my life has been so busy and this has been sittng in my drafts for two weeks at least honestly but yeah the chapter is gonna be rough and definately out soon so leave a like if you enjoyed and a reblog is always apreciated (but totally your descson). another thing is if anybody would like me to do a request I'd be more than happy too <3

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlockbbc #sherlock holmes x female!reader #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n

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buckyarchives · 2 years ago

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we’re not really strangers | Sebastian Stan [2.]

summery: a broken and washed up writer keeps showing up in Sebastian life as he struggles with his own loneliness. two people in two different world, but the tug is so intense it begins to eat Sebastian raw. he has to learn to love full heartedly and you need to learn to trust again after you got cheated out of your entire life.

word count: 7.5k

warning: therapy sessions, hints of depression and drug abuse, mentions of suicide. past abusive relationships.

authors note: this is so long i’m sorry. and yes, readers backstory is literally just from big eyes shut up

read on AO3 | masterlist

“So.” the tap of a clicking pen filled the air. “Have you been writing recently?”

“I'm not a writer.”

Grace – your therapist – sighs, absolutely done with your shit. She was right to be. “You've written some of the film industry's greatest movies. Just because the world doesn't know that doesn't mean it's not true.”

You more or less glared at her, not a peep leaving you. It was going to drive Grace crazy, you didn't care. Maybe you did. A frown danced on your face, the one you wore usually. Just more annoyed.

“You don't have to be in denial forever.”

You loathed it when she said that. She noticed that you began to fidget with your hands before you realized yourself. She wrote it down, the sound of the pen dancing over her pad taunted you. You've never been an angry person, but it made you want to scream at her. Be the madwoman people expected of you.

“Yes, I have been writing.”

Grace's face lightened. “Good, anything you want to share.”

Your therapist made you talk about your script and stories in the beginning, a way to open up, she said. It was usually the only thing you'd be comfortable enough to speak about. She’d look way into the stories though, so you stopped. Especially after a suicidal main character got you put on 24-hour watch.

“Just practice.” you sighed, avoiding eye contact. “That one script I wrote a year ago is being filmed right now.”

“Which one?”

Here we go.

“The one about the cannibal luring in women through dating.”

Grace hums, nodding her head. Remembering the story you spoke about to her a while ago, she had read the first draft. “Is being deceived and tricked something you can relate to? Is cannibalism a metaphor for being eaten away by your feelings when you lived in LA?”

Told you.

You want to groan, scream and cry at her. Throwing your head back in annoyance and carding a hand through your hair with a heavy sigh.

“It's not that deep, Grace.” you say, “it's just about the horrors of modern dating as a woman.”

Sometimes you wanted to cry when she made these arbitrary assumptions just to tear you down into being a deeper person than you actually wore. It made you feel like a character of your trauma. Which your writing was the whole point, to make that not true.

Because you are not a character in your story. You never were.

“But do you feel that way? the way Miles treated you–”

“can we not—“ you let out a shaky breath, “I thought we agreed on Voldemort.”

That stupid fucking name. You hated when she called him by his name, it felt borderline criminal and it left a metallic taste in your mouth. Flinching at every stranger you met with a similar name.

Grace sighed for probably the millionth time. You didn't care that she sounded disappointed. “You cannot keep ignoring your past and live in denial and delusions. You have to learn to step out of that comfort zone and face it head-on.”

Denial, denial, denial. That word sure came up a lot.

“You are a writer.” she looked you dead in the eye. “Yet you claim not to be, despite that fact you continue to write scripts and let movies be made and go uncredited even after escaping miles. Living paycheck to paycheck from that small cafe.”

You feel small.

“You haven't even touched any of the money miles–”

“Okay, I get it, I get it.”

You wished she would stop talking sometimes. And sometimes you wished you didn't have to go to these stupid therapy sessions every week just so you could leave the state. Not be locked in a hospital and dancing around like a crazy person.

“I need to stop living in denial, I need to get out of my comfort zone. I get it, but stop lashing out at me.” you repeat her words. And you know she's not lashing out, she's doing her job and you shouldn't hate her for it. But you do.

Grace looks down at her notepad again and you swear to any gods above if she starts writing down some stupid observation you were going to–

Thump.

Your eyes watch as the throws the pad to the side and lean in closer to you, studying you. Okay, this is even worse.

“Where is this movie being filmed?”

Your eyebrow quirked up. “Canada, Toronto.”

“You.” she points her perfectly painted finger toward you. “Are going to take a vacation, go to set, hang out, help out. Maybe – and I highly recommend it – give some advice. And I know your director friends would be more than welcome to that idea.”

“I can’t take off work.” you sigh, frustrated. “And I don't have the money to get a ticket and stay that long.”

“Yes, you do.” she quips back.

Sometimes you also forget she has access to see your funds and other things. Another thing you could technically blame Voldemort from. If you're speaking about the domino effect, at least.

Hesitantly, and maybe just so you could leave, “i'll think about it. Okay?”

And you did, maybe you forced yourself to think about it in the begining. But somewhere along swallowing yourself on your couch, mindlessly serving coffee and sandwiches. Staring blankly at your books and scripts. You kept thinking about it, until you couldn’t stop. Then it bothered you.

Sometimes you go onto Hulu, prime, or wherever your movies ended up. It doesn’t matter, you don't have control over them, never have. And you'd look at the credits page for hours, quite literally losing yourself in time. You wondered if you'd ever be strong enough to try and change it, by the time you snap out of it, you come to the conclusion that you aren't. And even if you were, would you win? Highly doubtful.

Swallowing down your medication as you feel the upcoming panic. You don't have time to deal with this. You glance down at the orange bottle again. No– stop that. Idiot.

Glancing back to the semi-empty calendar nailed to the wall. Your fingers dance along the dates and you sigh. Tuesday is therapy, you close the shop on those days. Since you usually come back home in a daze and are completely unable to function normally. You hated that your trauma and illnesses had that much power over you. Made you feel weak.

It was February 14th. Your fingertip fell on the 3rd and found itself on the next page. Around the third week of March. That's how long they'd be filming. You didn't ask Mimi. She invited you down, you hate when your therapist is right. She said they'd have a party. They always have parties while filming.

You tried to convince yourself of an excuse to stay. The regulars would be mad when they find out the shops are closed for over a week. You'd miss your apartment, which was a ffat-out lie. You've been trying to convince yourself you'd like this place since you moved in. no way that is changing now. You have to do therapy on zoom, then Grace said you wouldn't need to speak to her on vacation. That made you want to go.

“Fuck!” you yelled, not sure why. But you did and slammed a hand on the counter out of pure frustration and defeat. You'd never have control over your thoughts anyways.

You went into your room to pack, cursing yourself the entire time. You were only destroying yourself by going. Scared someone would recognize you. Another lie, Mimi doesn't work with anyone he worked with. Fact.

Cursed yourself when you bought a ticket, made a sign that said closed until further notice, and texted Mimi your arrival time. Your hands shook when you went through TSA and tried to put your suitcase in storage. A nice husband of three helped you and you gave him a nervous smile. You took a Xanax and mellowed out until you landed.

You began to hate yourself when you checked into the hotel Mimi said to go to. Hated yourself as you got dressed and called a cab. Started to loathe yourself and contemplate going home on the ride back and your legs shook when you walked onto set.

And then something really weird happened. You saw Sebastian and you suddenly didn't and that made you hate yourself even more but in an entirely different way. Mimi was excited you came and Lauryn was shocked. You predicted their reactions and got them correct.

You met Daisy and didn't tell her who you were, she made a good noa. You didn't tell her that either, even though you felt like you should have. Sebastian looked excited, confused, and shocked you were here. All of those and also a little happy. You hoped he didn't know.

You were glad they didn’t get Chris Pine.

You lurked the entire day, not wanting to intrude on the creative proess. You knew how frustrating that could be. Mimi was a great director and you were happily watching her.

Sebastian. Oh, Sebastian. You spent an alarming amount of time staring at him instead of reading the book you bought. You thought about how he made you feel when you fell asleep on him, how you felt at ease sleeping in your apartment for the first time (and how you had a panic attack about it in the bathroom before he woke up), how you smiled more than you wished when he convinced you to dance to Lana and Faye Webster. And then you thought about avoiding him the same way you did when he came in the shop that second time.

Because he was a normal man that liked old films, the color pink and space. But to almost everyone else – he was Sebastian Stan.

And that's why you have to stay at arm's length.

But then he startled you with two cups of coffee in his hands, giving you one, and tucked in his armpit was the script. He sat next to you and asked about delivery and attitude, asked for advice and your thought process when you wrote this.

You mentioned it, but Lauryn must have said something.

“He’s lighthearted about it, he is sinister but if you take meaning away he's just goofy.” you explain, and he looked at you so intently and listened to you well, you thought about kissing him, but you knew it was just because he was giving you attention. “These are some scenes you don't want to take him so seriously.”

A part of you wanted to yell at him. Tell him you're not a writer, you didn't write this, why are you asking me? Go ask Lauryn. But that's just what you were used to. You've already crossed a weird unspoken line that both of you acted like it was nothing, because it was. You told yourself.

But you let it be and continued to answer his questions.

You didn’t know Sebastian kept lingering just to make you smile, and that he stayed even after he accomplished his goal.

After fleeing to your hotel room, you took a cold shower and cried. You weren't sure why.

You watched Once Upon a Time, “Hat Tricks.” you smiled watching that episode. You weren’t sure why, you didn't like it.

You started to wonder what fuck was wrong with you when you turned on the Covent and went to bed with your hand in your pants.

ding!

please don’t be Mimi asking to come back to set. please don’t be Mimi asking to come back to set. please don’t be Mimi asking to come back to set.

from Mimi Cave: the cast and crew are having drinks at 8, it’d be great if you came by.

For the past couple of days, you made brief appearances on set, and spent most of the time lingering around Toronto like a ghost. you went to see Tom and Jerry in theaters which was so far the highlight of the week. maybe besides talking to Sebastian but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet.

you needed to socialize with people besides cafe workers. Speaking with people in the film industry was scary. Maybe this was for the better. You can imagine Grace speaking in your ear.

chewing on your cheek, you blink at the message and then another one pops up.

from Lauryn: i know mimi just texted you, but you don’t have to go if you're not comfortable.

from Lauryn: try to come later though. less people then, or tomorrow morning we can get brunch.

you sighed heavily. two sides of the same coin. One danced around you while the other was overbearing. It was a good balance but now it was just annoying. It was probably because Mimi came post-miles and Lauryn was there even before him. they both cared though.

to mimi: i’ll try to stop by! send me the address. thanks for the invite.

to lauryn: it’s fine, i need to get out. i’ll be there

setting your phone down before glancing at the time. It was 7 pm now. you had no rush to get there at 8, you didn’t want to get there then. If anything, you’d do what Lauryn suggested.

you stared at yourself in the mirror for a good 10 minutes before deciding to get ready. pulling yourself together and putting on a dress of sorts. it was red - staying on theme with the movies. you paced the hotel for a little, opened Instagram. your therapist told you to stop doing that. your fingers danced across the search bar in a trance, not even realizing he was on your mind.

[imsebastianstan]

clicking the follow button. maybe this was a bad idea—

imsebastianstan requested to follow you.

that was… quick. he should definitely be wrapping up filming and not on his phone, or social media.

Nonetheless, you clicked accept.

you had no post, no highlights. just a name and profile photo. it was from a party a long time ago, some

people are cropped out. but you already got a new message.

imsebastianstan: are you coming tonight?

fuck. now you can't back out. you typed quickly, told him you were. he offered to pick you up, what a gentleman. you declined. told him you already called an uber and Sebastian said to be safe. it made your chest weirdly warm.

the ride to the house was a more mellow version of the journey to Toronto and set for the first time. same feelings just less physical panicking. which was — better.

it was 9 when you got there. too early for your taste but you were already standing in front of the huge house, tall glass windows with warm lights and groups of people. too many people. and Mimi must have already seen you because she ran outside with Daisy close behind, cheeks already warm from the crisp cold.

“what are you waiting for? it’s cold, get inside!” she waved you over and you forced out a thin-lipped smile and entered the door, shrugging your coat off and putting it aside.

and you went through the motions of the party for the most part. Mimi introduced you, Lauryn looked surprised that you came so early. you gave her a reassuring nod and she went back to speaking with whoever. wondering if she went around telling them about your part in the script like you did Sebastian. you looked for Sebastian, he was flirting with some girl — you looked away pretty quickly and found a love chair to nurse a drink and people-watch.

and then time blurred, voices muffled and rang. the clicking of glasses and laughter played in the background like a television. you wondered why you even came.

“y/n?”

everything came back and Sebastian was standing in front of you. a somewhat worried face, you chose not to think about that too much.

“hey,” you replied plainly.

“Hey back.” Sebastian smiled and you caught your eyes lingering on his lips. He sat down next to you, thighs touching. like they did when he spent the night, should you mention that?

“Are you okay?” he asks and it genuinely takes you offguard. You begin to stare at him blankly, almost confused. You don't remember the last someone asked you that, and then you realize you don't even know the answer. It shocks you for a moment.

And there's something so raw about Sebastian that makes it so hard to cover it all up. Be fake. Lie. be happy, pretend. It scares you and you want him far away, but the feeling and warmth of his thigh lining against your envelopes you and makes you feel whole and secure.

“I’m here.” which isn't a lie, but it’s all you can think to say. “which is good enough.”

Sebastian glanced back to the small crowd. He smiles, but it feels forced. You know the look too well. “that you are.” is all he says for a moment, you just nod and tap a nail on your glass. “But, do you want to be?”

No, yes, I'm not sure, I should be, do you?

“I think so.” you settle on.

“You don't sound so sure.”

“Because I'm not.” you sigh.

Sebastian takes one more glance around, checking each and every person and to his surprise and delight – no one is looking at him. He smiles, it's genuine now and you can't begin to understand what he's thinking. It angers you.

A hand grasps around your drink, sets it down and finds its way back to your wrist. “Let's go somewhere else,” Sebastian says with a tease in your voice and he's already getting up, you follow him with no hesitation.

“Where?” you ask abruptly, but Sebastian is already pulling you into the front room. Slipping his shoes on.

“Which ones yours?” Sebastian completely ignores your question. Sights set on getting the hell out and looking through the coats. “This looks like something you'd wear.”

“What? No! I would never wear that.” you sound offended, defensive. and smacking his hand away from the ugly purple coat and go to find yours.

Sebastian just laughs and it catches you off guard because he sounds so perfect. and he’s looking at you, and you're still and scared. you grab the black trench coat and let him drag you out and away from the party.

because between unspoken glances of growing trust and laughter as he fumbles with the keys to the rental car. you think to follow him anywhere. and maybe it was simply to get away from that party and the intense stares toward the random, weird girl in the corner who looks one inconvenience away from shooting herself. or maybe it simply was just — him.

you decided not to think about it too much.

“Do you like musicals?” Sebastian asks unprompted. He looks giddy and has a haze in his eyes. you wondered briefly if he should be driving.

“I like some.”

The question of where he’s taking you is still heavy in your head but the question doesn't seem to leave your lips.

Sebastian tucks lips beneath his teeth to hold back a wild, mischievous grin threatening to grow. He turns up the radio aux and the all-too-familiar sound of Andrew Garfield breaks out. you laugh loudly and Sebastian should probably be watching the road right now, but he’s not.

“I like this movie,” you say, referring to tick-tick boom. before you can begin your unasked criticism of the movie. Sebastian breaks out in an aggressive song and it startles you.

“don’t panic! don’t jump ship! I can't fight it!” Sebastian is screaming at the top of his lungs, literally. He turns to you in the passenger and points at you with his nose scrunched. He looks quite cute. “ —like taxes!”

“oh my god.” you gawk. Sebastian doesn't stop his one-man performance and all you can do it stare in amusement and chuckle quietly to yourself.

he doesn’t stop— no, no, now he’s encouraging you. but you're shaking your head violently but the growing smile says something different and Sebastian knows it. “come on! please!”

you shake your head no again

Sebastian is making an exaggerated frown face and he looks ridiculous.

“If I sing, will you tell me where we are going!”

The car slows and he’s driving on a straight road with almost no other cars in sight. Sebastian leans into your space, you don’t lean away. looked you dead in the eye and nothing matters.

“If you sing, I will make the next three to four hours the best you’ve ever had,” Sebastian says sincerely and calmly. He's too serious to be joking now. you bite back a smile and his eyes go back to the round.

your hand goes to turn up the volume and… here goes nothing.

“Friends are getting fatter! the hair on your head is getting thinner! feel like a cleanup batter, on a team that ain’t a winner.” you sing-shout and Sebastian looks more than pleased.

“don’t freak out! don’t strike out! can't fight it, like city hall!” he sings the next verse.

and then you do, and then he does. and then Sebastian put on grease, you suggest heathers and you duo seventeen. Sebastian is still driving with a grin on his face and you feel lighter.

your face hurts when the car finally stops, you want to think it’s from singing. but Sebastian knows it’s because you were smiling the entire ride.

“are you going to tell me why we’re at a grocery store?” you ask, blinking at the 24-hour large convenience store.

“I didn’t want to say anything to Mimi, but her car-cuter boards were not doing it for me.'' Sebastian gets out of the door and slams it shut, it makes you flinch slightly. you hoped he doesn't notice, especially as you linger in the passenger seat. He does, he looks back through the windshield and his giddy smile fades.

Sebastian mouths ‘are you coming?’ and you wonder if you should pretend you couldn’t read lips but it would make no difference. exhale, you open up the door and find your place next to him as you walk through the sliding doors.

the bright fluorescent lights hurt your eyes when you walk in, especially the one above the bathroom that is flickering.

“what’s the weirdest food combo you enjoy?” Sebastian asks. his eyes glance around the store eagerly. you know the look, he looks satisfied when he realizes it’s almost empty, aside from the old lady in the fruits second. the teenage worker. and some woman with 5 pregnancy tests in her hands and one pack of mints.

truly the almost midnight shopping experience.

“weirdest? that I enjoy…” you hum, “cottage cheese and Fritos.”

“that so weak!” he teases and it almost tugs out a smile, matching the one on his that reached his eyes and made the blue look brighter. you turn away trying not to stare or drown in them.

“okay, uhhh… sanyang noodle sauce and watermelon.”

Sebastian hums for a moment, thinking. “that might sound good.” he nods, “what about strawberries and mayo?”

your eyebrows furrow, “that sounds like a pregnancy craving? Are you pregnant, Sebastian?”

he laughs and reaches his eyes once again and a weird sense of pride swells in your chest. Sebastian stops in front of the produce and grabs a small thing of strawberries.

“no, but I’m going to make you try it.” he says.

you let out a breathy laugh, a poor excuse for one anyways. Sebastian's eyes linger on your face, waiting for you to smile. you don’t.

“Is this what we are doing? getting weird food combos?”

“if you want to, get whatever — I’ll pay.”

“That's good enough for me.” and say and grab the cubed watermelon in front of you.

and then you separate for a brief period. Each strolling the aisle of the small store, the bright lights still bothered you. for a moment, you could hear Sebastian humming while he stood on the other side of the shelves. you got caught up in it and ended up staring at a bag of hot onion rings.

so much you didn’t realize Sebastian was now next to you.

“you gonna get those? or just stare at them?” he asked, surprising you. you blinked rapidly as you fell back to reality.

as awkward as ever, you faked a laugh and grabbed them. “I’m getting them,” you were glad you actually like these. “just thinking.”

Sebastian hummed. He knew the look of spacing off until you dissociated well. He chose not to tease you for it.

turning towards the man, Sebastian held an entire chocolate cheesecake and cotton candy grapes. In truth, Sebastian didn’t like cotton candy grapes. mostly grabbing them for shits and giggles, but the smile that grew on your face made him even happier for grabbing them.

you quickly bit back the smile, “those are my favorites.”

Sebastian could have guessed.

“So you're saying if a dashingly handsome man offered you cotton candy grapes, you’d end up like noa?” Sebastian teased.

“maybe, not sure if i’d ever date a doctor though.”

“interesting.”

you walked side by side, your steps were the only noise between you two as you headed for the register. self checkout. you offered to pay, because you’re nice. Sebastian refused and said it was payback for the free coffee.

maybe you shouldn’t be looking at him like you are now. eye focused as he casually wore a small smile, the snacks beeped as he scanned them.

It was so stupid, he was doing something so normal and casual. you barely knew him and you were looking at him with love-sick eyes. Because to you, he looked so good, doing something so normal and maybe you should sit down and really think about your next actions. but you don’t, and you continue to stare and Sebastian notices.

“let’s go-“ he looks up to you, stopping his words when he realizes you were already looking. you feel in a trance when he stares back, with the same feeling in his blue orbs. but you barely know him.

you both snap out of it and start to walk back to the car.

The cold Canadian air hits you, sending a breeze through your hair. Sebastian sees you through the corner of his eye, it makes him smile for some reason. He feels young, like a teenager gazing at a crush in the hallway.

“I wonder what would have happened if we met 10-20 years ago.” Sebastian laughs, such a random question to you.

you hum, “I don’t know.”

Sebastian stares at you from across the car, his fingers graze over the handle and you’re cold. but the door is locked. as serious as ever, like his words wouldn’t knock you to your feet, Sebastian says; “I’d probably ask you on a date, I was really cocky back then because of gossip girl.” he laughs.

you gulp, anxiously waiting for him to unlock the door so you could get in and escape his eye contact.

“And I would decline, because I’d be married to someone else.”

Sebastian’s face falls, only for a moment before he forces out a pursed smile. It doesn't look real and maybe Sebastian isn’t that good of an actor in real life. “and you’d be married. I didn’t know you were married.”

“I know. not anymore.” you say. not like you try to hide it from literally everyone you meet now. Sebastian doesn't know though: and it’s refreshing. but now he’s going to ask about it and you prepare for that speech.

Sebastian unlocks the door.

The ride is a lot more silent now, you enjoy it while it lasts and watch the orange dew when Sebastian drives through the tunnel. you forget to ask where you were going until Sebastian stopped in front of an empty park.

“a park? at night?”

“Absolutely.” he says and he looks so sure of himself, grabbing the bags of food and you can’t help but follow him. you don’t even think about it.

it’s unspoken, and a trust that you don’t recognize in yourself. but you silently follow Sebastian's actions, almost till their own and you two move with the same mind and ideas.

and Sebastian brought a blanket because he just so happened to have one in the car. it’s cold but neither of you care. Sebastian laying on his back with his chest rising slowly, your sit crisscrossed and started going through the bag of snacks as Sebastian switched from gazing at the stars and your stone-like features. you’re so beautiful and Sebastian is so smitten.

“okay,” he sits up abruptly, “mayo and strawberries time, come on.”

He had a Cheshire grin on his face as he shook the mayo bottle. you shake your head, “mhm, no. I hate mayo.”

“I’m serious, you have to try it.” he’s smilesto himself as he squeezes the mayo onto the strawberry and you visually recoil.

“no, absolutely not.” you continue to shake your head.

but Sebastian Stan is Sebastian Stan and he flashes that smile and the moons reflect off his eyes and he’s smiling at you. at you.

“one bite and you can ask me any questions you’d like.” he offers, “anything. no boundaries.”

interesting.

“and you have to try the watermelon.”

he smiles because he knows he’s won. “I'll eat the watermelon if I can ask you one big question.”

you know what the question is, but Sebastian is gazing into your eyes like nothing's wrong. no one has hurt you and you feel warm and young. his blue iris takes you over and it cleans your soul, and he is looking at you.

with a quick roll of the eyes, you agree and Sebastian shoves the berry in your mouth. and sometimes you wish you’d listen to your head more than your heart; especially now.

“ew!” you yell, it comes out muffled because Sebastian put the entire berry in your mouth unprompted, stem and all. you fold into yourself as you search for a napkin to spit it out. “I should have never listened to you! oh my god, that was horrible.”

Sebastian breaks out into laughter as he watches your face scrunch up in disgust, he hands you a napkin and you throw the mushy mayo-strawberry to the side.

“Man, I gotta think of a horrible question.” you snark.

“Try me.” he says, testing the waters.

this feels oddly like the first night he met, maybe he shouldn’t be letting you do this. Maybe he’ll say something wrong again. knowing himself, he probably will.

you can’t look at him, you plop down and stare at the stars and hope he follows. Sebastian does.

“Do you actually like being an actor?”

Sebastian’s quick and ready junket or movie premiere answer is on the tip of his tongue and then he realizes. It's an empty park, night and stars shining down on him and he’s alone. alone with you. you're beside him and he can feel your warmth. Sebastian had to think of a new answer, it puzzles him.

he fully thought you’d ask something embarrassing of him. like it’s not already on some podcast or interview. Sometimes he regrets when he says those vulnerable and knowing things about himself. It's like giving a piece of himself to the world. in exchange: he’s not sure.

“Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.” he exhales and it’s the only thing he can think of. “recently though; I’ve been liking it a lot less.”

you hum, so he knows you’re listening and you understand and you urge him to keep going. because the weight in his words makes you feel like it’s been bottled up and he’s letting his thoughts out barely, one by one.

“You know, sometimes it just feels like I’m not me. like I'm made up of things people think of me, and it’s hard to differentiate from that.”

he sighs, his chest feels heavy. “i guess I’m just tired of people picking me apart.”

“amen.” you attempt to joke and it leaves Sebastian off guard. but it’s not bad, he chuckles under his breath and you have a small, tiny smile on your face.

It's silent for a while, but it's okay. It's comforting and domestic and it reminds you of the morning Sebastian slept over. But you also know what’s about to come and you decide to just accept it because Sebastian is already asking the question he did before.

“I’m taking my questions now,” he says. “be honest this time. the real you, what broke you?”

the real you. you would never understand, Sebastian Stan.

you decide to go slow, and asses if you’ve been deceived and are stomping on enemy territory.

“Do you know Mile Franco?” the words come out and you don’t recognize your own voice, you feel dirty and slimy.

Sebastian's confusion shows heavily on his face, even if you can’t see it - you hear it in his words.

“the director? yeah. I auditioned to be in like 3 of his movies.”

you barely realize the words leave your lips until the awkward and painful silence follows after, the words rush out so quick you maybe hope Sebastian doesn't understand you.

“he’s my ex-husband. and he’s stolen every single one of those movies from me.”

your mind flashes to the metal ring that you used to wear with pride. the days you were trapped in those multi-million dollar hollywood houses, for literally weeks. you thought you were being loved as you gave the man your scripts and story and directorial work and talent for free. in exchange for what?: a few suicide attempts, trust issues, a 10 million dollar settlement, and a stolen Oscar for director of the year as the one thing to say “fuck you” to him. even if he had endless awards that should have your name on the plate

“Oh.” is all Sebastian can say and your sure you’ve fucked up. and he’s a secret die hard fan of his and he’s fawned over miles at award shows you should've been to, but you always found out he got invited after the red carpet and it was too late. you watch him accept your awards on the television.

“I met him fresh into film school. I graduated high school early so I was only 17. I had nothing to my name at the time” you exhale a shaky breath. “we were married for 13 years, it took 2 hospital trips for me to leave him. I took him to court for the rights - lost - and got settlement money instead.”

Sebastian feels his mouth go dry when he listens to you. abruptly sitting up, making you flinch as he looks down at you. anger, confusion, disgust, nervousness: you couldn’t tell but his face flared up with emotions as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“so all of his movies… you wrote? like all of them?”

“yes.” it comes out strangled and more like a croak.

Sebastian is processing what that all means to you for, for the film industry and himself. He loved his movie and admired him. Sebastian can only think to joke about it and also make a pathetic, desperate attempt to make you feel better.

“That explains why his movies have been really bad recently.” he scoffs and you actually laugh. Sebastian wants you to feel better.

“I guess.” you sigh. sitting up next to him.

Sebastian always knows how to push everything slightly over the edge and despite how much he’s talking himself from doing that with you. mysterious, mysterious girl. He can’t help himself and he begins to tread in unfamiliar territory.

“you’re divorced, away from him. So why do you continue to write movies and go uncredited?”

you breathe in. ready to give your avoidance-type answer you’d give Grace or change the subject. but Sebastian's looking at you and he looks caring and trusting and he’s not your therapist. you wonder what is wrong with you and if you should run and hide that this will be another Miles.

“I feel like they have this idea that when someone goes through something like I did, they’re supposed to blossom and take control and gain that power back.” you sigh, the continuous trope you see in the media that tire your back: because it’s not you, and you feel like a fraud. “But that’s not me, because I got pushed into that comfortable zone of being in the shadows despite the fact it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I know nothing else.”

Sebastian doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say and for once — the silence makes you uncomfortable. a light-hearted scoff leaves you, “and the reasons you don’t want to be an actor are the reason I don’t want that fame.”

“makes sense.” Sebastian says. he knows deep down that despite the fire brewing in the bottom of his stomach that feels betrayed for you. He doesn't act, you wear your stubbornness on your shoulder and Sebastian knows that no amount of cotton candy grapes will make you have a sudden epiphany tonight.

but he also knows the pent-up emotions of being silenced and talked over, and giving up trying anything else.

“get up.” Sebastian speaks softly, your eyes glance at him.

“What?” The smile on Sebastian's face confused you more. slowly, you rose up and went straight next to him. short-lived when Sebastian grasps your hand and jerks you up an empty field around the park, stumbling over your feet as he guides you to the top of the hill.

“okay, and stand here.” Sebastian still hasn't answered your questions, you were sensing a pattern. but you obey and stand directly next to him. you stare down the hill, you feel taller.

“Sebastian? what are you doing?”

“do you trust me?” he asked plainly, a tease at the end of his words that caused your lip to quirk up slightly. it’s getting too easy for him to do this.

“I barely know you.”

“You know more than most.” Sebastian breathes out and quickly faces the sky again. “Now, breathe.”

you inhale slowly and exhale, your chest rises and you wonder why you trust him. you probably shouldn’t.

“scream,”

“what?”

“scream, scream as loud as you want, scream at the stars, scream at the clouds, scream at the world. just scream until you feel better.”

Sebastian finished and you look and see a solemn smile on his face. “You're crazy.”

“do it.”

you turn to the stars, keep your mouth shut. an invisible latch on it that’s stopped you from this for years - decades. You can’t help but wonder how often Sebastian does this and if his therapist told him to do this. Does he even go to therapy? probably not.

before you can even muster up anything to scream about, a deep and loud yell startles you. Sebastian begins screaming his head off and you're laughing suddenly, you don’t know why but you are.

“Come on.” he encourages, slightly disappointed that you didn’t join straight away. but Sebastian is good at pushing, and you need a lot of it.

“There's something about you, Sebastian Stan” you whisper enough for him to hear, it mixes in with the soft sounds of the wind.

“scream or I’ll cry myself to sleep.” Sebastian deadpans.

“This is manipulation.”

Sebastian just smiles and turns back around and screams, again. loud but you don’t flinch this time. playfully you roll your eyes, gulping down all your anxieties and you really hope the dam doesn't break fully and you end up crying. you scream, loud and shrill but Sebastian hears the pain in it and is proud you're letting at least a little bit of it out.

it died down and faded into belly laughter, Sebastian clutched his stomach and curled into himself. a wide Cheshire grin that matched yours now.

“I hope no one calls the cops on us,” he mentions through waves of laughter.

“Just name drop, we’ll be fine.” you wave him off and don’t notice that he’s staring at you with a glint in his eyes that are highlighted by the stars and moon. He looks gorgeous, only if you could see it. you’d know how love sick he was growing.

Sebastian's laughter subdued and he glanced from you and the large hill. an idea pops into his head and for a moment he wonders if he’s pushing too far, but it is forgotten when he goes to grab your hand.

“Now we roll!” he yells out, a childish grin on his face. you whip your head towards him and his hand that holds yours. he is so warm, you feel a sense of comfort in your chest.

“What?!”

and you’re rolling, Sebastian pulls you down and your face is met with wet grass. but you can’t help but just laugh some more when you find yourself at the bottom and in Sebastian’s arms. you're not bothered by the sudden closeness, you feel you should be.

“you’re a horrible influence, look at my hair!” you point out.

“Your hair looks great.” Sebastian says, one hand on your waist and the other patting any fly away or grass in your hair away.

his eyes glance to your lips, and you notice that. you feel your heart beating faster and you wonder if Sebastian can hear it too. with Sebastian so close, chest to chest, you're sure he can.

“you going to throw me off or…?” you gulp.

Sebastian just shakes his head, his iris glancing at every single detail of your face. “nope.”

“Oh.”

not to be cliche, but the world feels like it’s stopped. the quietest sound of Sebastian thumb grazing against your skin, the wind stops blowing through the grass and leaves and it’s just you and him.

“I hope I'm not misreading the situation…” Sebastian alludes, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“you’re not.” you breath out and barely a second later his lips are on yours.

it’s wrong, everything about this is wrong. you feel the rise of doom in your stomach. but he’s warm and soft against your lips and your heart says something different because it feels so right. he feels like the first drink on a night out, you know tomorrow will be hell but you couldn’t stop yourself because he feels so good.

Sebastian's tongue swipes across your lips and his hands grasp tighter on your hip and back. He flips you over gently, his knee is in between your thighs but it’s not sexual. He kisses you gently and fully, he doesn't tease and takes his time. you feel the grass beside your head and it pricks at your skin, but it doesn't bother you.

a small sound comes from each of your lips, a moan even. it’s not hungry or asking for more, you feel full and content. Sebastian isn’t looking for your body or making this kiss feel like some milestone to be advanced after.

but then he pulls back and you feel empty, it’s so confusing — you hate it.

“was that too much?” he asks, still so giddy and head high from having you against him.

“not at all. thank you.”

a moment of silence, it’s not uncomfortable or ungiving, but you pull away and Sebastian crawls off you. rising to his feet and lending you a hand. you check your phone, it’s late - way late.

“I think I should be getting back.” you sigh, this feels like the end of a movie. reality hits you tomorrow and you feel the high calm down, oh how will you replace it?

Sebastian looks a little disappointed, but he attempts a face for you to not see it. “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

He pulls you by the hand again and for the last time that night, you sit in his passenger seat and continue to listen to whatever’s on the radio. small and meaningless chatter, about movies and television. specifically horror for a while. Sebastian doesn’t like horror which shocks you. but he also makes fun of you for the fact your favorite movie is Rocky and mayday.

you watch him when he smiles and frowns or when he does that thing where he pokes his tongue on the side of his cheek, you deny to yourself that you think it’s hot. warm and orange lights from driving through a tunnel show on his face and your brain instantly thinks you want to make a movie with orange color grading, with Sebastian as the leading man. probably something depressing.

The thought of being in love with Sebastian plagues your mind for a moment, and you wonder if this is what it would feel like.

and you hate the feeling even more when he drops you off at the hotel and you're left alone again with nothing but your thoughts. you long to see him again and it scares you.

the orange bottle in your bag taunts you, you can’t help it. old habits die hard.

#sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x ofc #seb stan #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x fluff #rpf #actor rpf #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel #fresh

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mlobsters · 1 year ago

Text

supernatural s5e14 my bloody valentine (w. ben edlund)

wow, everyone really went for it on this scene. it could have gone just pure gore but they really kept that sex edge to it. impressive

ALICE'S ROOMMATE There was blood everywhere...and... other stuff...I think Alice was already dead.

okay.

ALICE'S ROOMMATE No premarital. I used to wonder how she did it. I mean, you know, didn't do it. It was her first date in months. She was so excited.

SAM Apparently, they were both pretty excited.

made me laugh. just missing the caruso sunglasses move. what the cheeseball

DEAN Well, then what, then? Oh, dude! At the coroner's-- you didn't see these bodies. I mean, these two started eating and they just... kept going. I mean, their stomachs were full. Like Thanksgiving-dinner full. Talk about co-dependent.

(oop the snazzy laptop desktop background is back)

see they're not so bad, they're not eating each other to death! model of a healthy relationship. codependent shmodependent

SAM Go ahead. Unleash the kraken. See you tomorrow morning.

is that what we're calling dean's dick now?

DEAN Where am I going?

SAM Dean, it's Valentine's day. Your favorite holiday, remember? I mean, what do you always call it-- Uh, unattached drifter Christmas?

DEAN Oh, yeah. Well... be that as it may...I don't know. Guess I'm not feeling it this year.

SAM So you're not into bars full of lonely women?

DEAN Nah, I guess not. Ahh. What?

SAM That's when a dog doesn't eat-- that's when you know something's really wrong.

DEAN Remarkably patronizing concern duly noted. Nothing's wrong. We gonna work or what?

was thinking i recognized him from another spn episode (yes s1e19) but also yes from the killing

the killing s1e9 undertow - jay brazeau as judge russell elliot

DEAN Hey. (hands Sam one of the hearts they're examining) Be my Valentine?

LOL another moment i read in fic and didn't think actually happened. ham

these idiots

i think i know this dude from commercials.

lex medlin in a bunch of ads listed on ispot.tv

again tying into the main arc with the cupid being behind john and mary. that's you know, okay i guess. lol

and good job sam, telling dean about the demon encounter (aka writers for not deciding to angst over this for the millionth time). and that demon was rocking an intense contour. and pretty handy trick there for sam, sniffing out demon blood. except for the addiction situation. where is demon blood methadone when you need it

double gold star for sam telling dean he needs to stay back

hope he has a pillow or something. shoulda dragged the tv in for distraction. nothing like being in pain/freaking out and having nothing to do but focus on the fact that you're in pain/freaking out

DEAN Hey, when I want to drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. Same goes for a sandwich or a fight.

CASTIEL So...you're saying you're just well-adjusted?

DEAN God, no. I'm just well-fed.

wasn't expecting that to be the explanation for why he's immune.

FAMINE Yes. I see. That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex.

DEAN Oh, you're so full of crap.

FAMINE Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already...dead.

okay listen, we're depressed. it's true. but really? neither reason seems terribly plausible to me

so famine is.... destroyed? what? i thought you couldn't kill them. confused. why didn't dean just try to get his ring while sam was sucking out the demons the first time. or the second time. i get it but having dean standing there with the knife and nothing to do and cutting to his reaction periodically was ... silly

they really need to come up with a better detox system than this.

and now dean is praying? well. at least we didn't have a One Tear moment. you know who dean could use right now? fuckin ellen. ugh. faking like you're gonna extend their support network but no it's just so they can kill them off and give dean some more grief to carry around *shakes a fist*

#blood #supernatural #ben edlund #spnwatch #spn 5x14 #jay brazeau #the killing #lex medlin #unattached drifter christmas #that was a title of a fic i read recently i think lol and i wondered where it came from #so many the wild things in fic i later learn happened canonically it's a trip #hazards of reading ahead of viewing schedule #spn desktop background update

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khaleesiofalicante · 1 year ago

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Okay I'm ignoring the quali at this point, not exactly happy with it because I wanted Lewis at least at top 3 and the car doesn't look great this weekend 😔 Also, what the hell is Stroll doing up there? Rain really is a factor that makes everything interesting in F1, overall I have a feeling it will be a very interesting race😎 Not Perez almost snatching sprint poll, I really want Lewis to be second so I'm kinda not rooting for Perez to stick. Also, the guy once said that women shouldn't race and belong in the kitchen so all my sympathy for his situation went up in smoke.

So, before the sprint race and the GP on Sunday, I present to you, a lot of Mavid thoughts

I'm dying to know how David felt when he asked Max to take his name again in IALS. I mean, I keep trying to picture his while internal dialogue about all the reasons he wants to have Max's name again but worrying that Nax may not want that anymore, and maybe a flashback of him signing as a LB after the divorce only to realize that he no longer is a LB, wow that hurts but it would also be such an interesting thing to see what he thought about the whole thing(since we already kinda caught a glimpse of how Max feels about the whole name thing)

Okay I don't know if you have seen La La Land but if you have (if you haven't you definately should), just imagine RWRB Mavid with "What a waste of a lively night" it would fit them so much! Beacuse I feel like in that scene Sebastian and Mia just start falling for each other but they're in denial about it and I feel like both of them will be in denial (maybe not David but he'll act like he is because if Albert?)

Also, RWRB Mavid with "City of Stars" from La La Land (but make it city if lights for Paris)

Just in case I wasn't obvious about it RWRB Mavid as La La Land would rule! (Yes I'm aware that we don't know anything about RWRB Mavid yet, my mind is a weird place)

I was watching this movie, "The Vow" for like the millionth time (a movie where a couple that is very much in love breaks up when the wife gets memory loss and doesn't love her husband anymore) and I kept trying to picture Mavid with it but I couldn't. Because I feel like there's no way those two wouldn't immediately fall for each other and I love that🥰

I was listening to Love Story by Indila last night and then I remembered it was the opening soundtrack for David's show in IALS, but it feels like it's also how David felt about Max the whole time they were divorced, it's a nice thought, the show is the past and the song is their present. Max really sat on a couch thinking David hates him while the TV was singing to him about how much David loves him, honestly these two. (Now I need to go back to every scene that there was in the show and think about it with the according soundtrack 😅)

Back in LBAF, Max should drop the whole time travelling business and figure out a way to make a portal that Lance can use by himself

Um also excuse me you can't just say the Rafe thing scene and not give us Rafe's reaction to David asking Theia to tutor Lance instead of Cami (I have so many thoughts about that but they are all over the place- much like Max and Rafael are)

Hear me out: You kept the David thoughts to yourself in FMF, and he turned to be Lucifer's son-who also kidnapped Alec. In IALS, you also weren't saying a lot of things about David's true thoughts and feelings about whatever was happening and it turns out he was just using Jaden to get Max back. I'm just saying, whenever you don't share David's thoughts, you're cooking something big. I'm scared.

Max cutting his hair in LBAF and Davida cutting his hair, whyy🥺

Also Max saying he is bad at communicating while fetus Mavid in LBAF were the most communicative babes there were hurts a lot

Are E and D major the keys that represent Lance and Theia? Is that why Lance kept playing them together?

Please leave the gays alone, they've been through enough 🫠(I mean everyone has at this point buy still)

Quali (both sprint and race) were big ew. But interlagos track is good for overtaking so let's hope lewis can make some moves! he really needs to do well here if he wants to get that p2!!! and bro, all these f1 drivers are problematic and said some weird shit (lewis included but i am wearing my sunglasses so i can't see).

Gonna think of mavid until sprint (hope i won't fall asleep tonight lmao) so thank you for the mavid thoughts!!!

A very good prompt!(?). There are many IALS scenes I wish I could write, both in the middle, and from the future. If inspiration strikes me, we'll definitely go back to it!

OMG??? listening to it rn.

CITY OF STARS IS PART OF THE RWRB AU PLAYLIST OMG? Great minds think alike.

omg this au though. I AM OBSESSED ALREADY. I've been recently thinking about journalist david (he writes movie reviews and art stuff) and idk max is doing but he's just there skjnjsk.

I love the vow omg. I think David would love it too!!!

INDILA SONGS ARE MADE FOR MAVID.

There is a very cool scene where Max uses warlock math just for Lance. It was originally supposed to be part of the Max story, but I put it into lbaf 6, because of *Spoilers*

i basically envisioned the convo between rafael and anjali tbh. i can see rafael being mad at achilles for agreeing to send theia and then anjali (my queen) being like "are you mad Achilles agreed or are you mad David didn't ask you?".

You are right. everything i do has a reason, babygirl. You will find out why we don't get david pov when we reach the "interlude" chapter of part 6. remember it :)

cutting hair is something that can be so personal in daniverse :)

adults are useless smh

I WAS WONDERING IF SOMEONE WILL FIGURE THIS OUT. It's not blackbane. If you want to figure it out, use this online keyboard and press the keys. On your right hand side, it's the E (white key) and the black key that says D#. Play it over and over like Lance did and see if you can figure it out :)

shan't :)

#love youuuuuuuuu #lbaf #mavid

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gauntlets-shot · 1 year ago

Text

just--a--jinx

“We should go. Just…somewhere away from here,”

The enforcer’s voice was just noise.

Like a marionette that had its strings cut, Jinx drifted, watching the heavy steel toe of her boots take step after reluctant step as Hat Lady led the way. It didn’t feel like she was even willing herself to walk. Everything around her was just…happening.

They stopped somewhere brighter. Jinx wasn’t sure where. It felt like they’d moved to some of the upper levels of Zaun. Somewhere where you were less likely to get stabbed in an alleyway. Jinx’s eyes stung. If she had more tears to spill, they’d have welled forth again. But nothing came. Her feet slowed to a halt. It took a few moments before hollow, blue eyes lifted, appearing utterly lost.

“I’m so sorry about Vi. I can never understand the bond you two had, but I know it won’t ever be forgotten.”

Jinx turned to face the enforcer. Anger, hurt and loss battled across her face. She wanted to hurt her. She wanted to fold in on herself at her knees.

She wanted to hurt Silco.

“But what do you plan on doing now?”

…Now?

Jinx stared at the enforcer, as though it were a silly question to ask.

She hadn’t had time to think yet. Right now she was feeling.

Jinx wanted to say something snide. She wanted to make the enforcer hurt like she was hurting. She wanted to blame her. But it hadn’t been the enforcer that did this…had it? Sure, she’d let Vi out of prison. But it was Silco who’d sent the cavalry. It was Silco who’d been keeping secrets. Jinx’s brow furrowed. She didn’t know what to do. She hated not knowing!

A small, halfhearted shrug was all she could manage. A defeated huff. A broken, joyless smile.

Did it even matter anymore?

Without Silco. Without Vi? There wasn’t Powder or Jinx.

What was left?

Jinx watched the chain dangling between them.

“He said it would be someone else…” Jinx spoke, feeling her voice dip into something faraway. The betrayal was supposed to come from someone who wasn’t family.

What else had Silco been lying about?

“‘Everyone betrays us, Jinx. It’s only us, Jinx. They will never understand, Jinx. You’re my daughter, Jinx.’” Silco’s words tumbled from her mouth without effort. They were lessons he’d instilled in her as a child. But they were one-sided lessons, weren’t they?

If she hadn’t stayed with Silco, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If she’d made different choices, different mistakes, would Vi still be alive?

“...He’s not my family.” It felt like an easy decision. A well-deserved decision. So why did it hurt so much? Pale, bloody fingers fidgeted at the cuff, tugging it as the dull ache continued to signal its presence.

“...I’ll go home.” Jinx spoke softly, fidgeting with the cuff without any progress. The bite of metal refusing to slide over her wrist bone was oddly grounding. In a steady, soothing breath, Jinx imagined the last drop burning with every last drum of explosives stashed within it rocketing into the sky. She needed to go home, after all. When you lost family, you were supposed to say goodbye.

Caitlyn tried not to wince as Jinx finally made eye contact with her. A swarm of emotions danced on the young woman's face and she wished she could understand everything she felt so she knew the correct things to say and do. She had a little bit of experience with consoling people about murders but this was a whole new ball park. She didn't think she had met anyone as emotional as the young woman before her. "I'm sorry," The sniper said for the millionth time but she shut her trap when Jinx finally began ton speak again.

The sniper stayed silent as Jinx continued to rant to her and her gaze shifted downwards as if she were embarrassed. Not only must it have hurt for Jinx to accept that her family betrayed her but it surely was humiliating too. How could someone properly recover from a stunt like this? Especially someone like Jinx? Caitlyn's eyes soon went towards the cuffs that bound the two women together and she furrowed her brows when Jinx told her she was going home.

"Is that really the best decision here?" Caitlyn asked on habit. She put her free hand up as if Jinx was going to hit her and she even scooted back just in case. "Please, here me out. Silco just...executed one of your loved ones and now you're going straight back to him? To do what exactly? Return the favor? Kill him? I understand planning isn't exactly in your vocabulary but we need to think about this first, Jinx," She spoke. "What if this is all a trap? What if—worst case scenario—he wanted us to come back, only to do something worse to us...or to me at least." Caitlyn shook her head a little. "It sounds like I'm worrying about myself but I'm not. I'm just saying, revenge might not be the best bet here. So, do you have any other ideas?'' Who was Caitlyn to talk one of the craziest criminals out of going home though?

Caitlyn's mind was whirling with ideas on what to do and admittedly, they weren't all good. She was trying to come up with a master plan dehydrated and on an empty stomach. The sniper let out a low grunt and placed her free hand on her stomach as it rumbled. "How about we get something to eat first? You wouldn't want to drag a corpse around with you, right?" She asked before she quickly put her hands up. "D-Don't get any ideas." Caitlyn looked at the wall before she sighed. "Look, I know we don't see eye to eye, but I want to help. I want to help you. You've been through a lot in the past couple of days and you can't find any sort of closure alone."

💣EVERYBODY PANIC!💣

Vi.

The name ached in her brain, wrenching forth a sea of memories soaked in vile anger and tenderness.

Your sister is dead.

How many times had Silco uttered the words? Soothing every fear, wound and anxiety Vi had left along with her sister on the bridge that fateful night. But that wasn’t the truth, was it? Vi had never been dead. Just…gone, and Silco was fighting to keep it that way. It was an earth shattering revelation, hearing Silco’s hushed, urgent conversations about ‘dealing’ with family as though it were some ugly wound that needed lancing. What had really driven the sense of anger and betrayal deep was Silco’s pointed silence on the topic when Jinx returned for his daily medication. There had been a time where the routine was tender, where they’d shared secrets with one another and upheld a pact of honesty. But Vi’s name never left Silco’s lips. He was lying about her. He was trying to keep her a secret.

The knowledge made Jinx want to drive the needle deep into Silco’s eye. Over and over and over and over.

She did not.

The one shred of self restraint holding back the tidal wave of anger and hurt from challenging her so-called father figure was the knowledge of the person tied in the other room. An enforcer. An enforcer that for some reason, had been talking to Vi about something that Silco didn’t like. But if Silco didn’t like Vi, who was the real enemy? The thoughts writhed in an agitated, wounded mess, battling with each other in a fruitless effort to make sense of it all. If Silco found out that she knew about Vi, everything would speed up. No. She’d heard Silco’s side of things in the whispers he exchanged when he believed she wasn’t listening. What about their prisoner? What did she know?

It hadn’t been difficult to find where they’d been keeping her. Marcus and Silco had been spending the better part of the day formulating some convoluted plan of attack. As Jinx moved soundlessly past Silco’s office, she heard the two inside, hours deep into a debate on this shiny new enforcer’s life.

Jinx entered the holding room noiselessly from above, perching on the rough, dusty rafters to stare down at the woman tied to the chair. She didn’t look as old as the other enforcers Jinx had learned the faces of. A cold distance filtered into Jinx’s gaze while she watched the enforcer as though she were a spider Jinx hadn’t decided whether or not to stomp on.

“Ugh, I thought they’d never leave.” The snide commentary sounded from above as Jinx swung her legs over one of the wooden beams.

“Y’know, it’s not sounding good for you in the old Decisions Room. Guess you should’ve kept outta the way.”

There was a soft thump as Jinx hopped down from her vantage point, strolling absently towards the door to fix a makeshift barricade. She didn’t want any interruptions, after all. This chat was going to be important.

Jinx’s voice softened to something dangerously quiet. Tender, with the threat of teeth.

“…But you didn’t.”

Jinx hooked around to the enforcer, imposing an unsettling lack of distance between them as she leaned into the unsettling behaviour that so often prized results from people.

“Let’s talk about that.”

(( Starter for @gauntlets-shot ))

#''begs the question young kiramman. what are you shooting for?'' ⟴ caitlyn #just--a--jinx #“then a real monster showed up. and i just ran away” ✸⟴ queue

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – One // Wanda Maximoff

story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter two

author’s note: here’s the long-awaited first chapter! i do hope you all enjoy!

Also a quick one – Y/B/N = your brother’s name, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/D/N = your dad’s name

"You move anymore and you're gonna hit a waiter."

I gave my brother a disapproving look as he grinned at my dismay. "Easy for you to say. You're wearing a suit and not a dress that's heavier than your body."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Y/N, you complain too much. Look where we are! You need to learn to enjoy yourself."

Taking a look around the room, I saw a hall filled with people I didn't know mingling with one another. Flutes of champagne were on almost every hand and laughter filled the air as everybody enjoyed their evening, soaking in the luxuries of a ball somebody I didn't know was hosting. Orchestral music was drowned out by conversations and servers moved through the hall like mice, scuttling around and constantly topping up champagne. I wasn't a fan, as usual.

"Are you both ready? Your father is bringing the Maximoffs here any second," my mother's voice grabbed my attention. "Y/N, at least try to look happy to be here."

I forced a smile, making her give me a knowing look before looking to my brother and fixing his tie.

"You both know how important this is," she told us for the millionth time, fussing over my brother's appearance. "They're expecting–"

"Well-behaved, respectful individuals," I finished for her. "We know, mum. You've told us only a gazillion times."

She pressed her lips together, hands on her hips as her eyes fell to me, displeased. "If this engagement is to go as planned, I need you on your best behaviour."

"I'm always on my best behaviour," I reassured her. "But okay. I'll lighten up."

"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile, before glancing over her shoulder. "Okay. Here they come. Smiles, please."

My brother looked to me, showing me his teeth. "Is there anything in my teeth?"

I cracked a smile to make myself feel better. "Gums."

He gave me a disappointed look. "You know men don't like women who are smart arses."

I rolled my eyes at his comment, knowing men didn't like women who didn't like men. But, of course, I didn't say that.

All her and my dad had been talking about for the past few weeks was this engagement. My brother, a very successful author, was to be engaged to his publisher's twin sister, some girl called Wanda. The Maximoffs were an esteemed family and their unification with ours was in everyone's best interests, especially my brother's who was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.

I didn't know much about the Maximoffs, only that their son and my brother's 'boss', if you will, Pietro, ran a successful publishing house. It had been in their family name since their parents emigrated to England from Sokovia when Pietro and Wanda were children. They'd built themselves up from nothing and were now high members of society, the perfect family to be involved with.

Y/B/N was to be engaged to Wanda, their daughter, since she was getting to that age where they wanted to find someone for her. My brother's name was put into the mix when Pietro recommended him and the rest was history.

Tonight was the first unofficial meeting with them and my mother had been nonstop lecturing me on the dos and don't's of how to act, as if I was a child that couldn’t behave. Of course, it was only a mere greeting. The true engagement was to be proposed tomorrow night, but that didn't matter to my fussy mother who was insistent on making a good impression.

I found myself straightening up and pressing my hands down my dress to rid it of creases as my brother adjusted his blazer. The Maximoffs were being led our way by my father, the four of them all with smiles on their lips and flutes of champagne in their hands.

"Dear, I would like to introduce you to Mr and Mrs Maximoff and their lovely children, Pietro and Wanda," my dad introduced, stopping before us, before looking to the Maximoffs. "This is my family. My wife, Y/M/N, and my children, Y/N and Y/B/N."

"Please, call me Oleg and my wife Iryna," the twins' father, Oleg, said with a kind smile. He held out his hand to my mother, adding, "It's a pleasure, Y/M/N."

They shook hands and then looked to my brother and I, exchanging quick greetings with us. As they were saying something to my brother, probably gushing over his writing as everyone did, I took a look at the quiet twins behind them.

I vaguely recognised the guy and his striking silver hair from my brother's work, knowing he was Pietro. But I'd never seen the girl before and knew immediately that if I had, I wouldn't forget her face. She was stunning, it didn't take a genius to see that. But not the stunning that you glanced once at and forgot about. No, she was the stunning that knocked the breath out of you and made you forget what your name was.

"...lovely to meet you again!" my brother was saying all the right things to impress his soon-to-be in-laws, but it went over me as I found myself unable to tear my gaze from this mystery woman.

Further introductions went on in the background, before the green eyes I was so enthralled with were looking my way, making me blink suddenly. I instantly looked away, afraid I'd been caught, and zoned back into the conversation that was taking place.

"It's great to finally put a name to a face," the girl, Wanda, was saying to my brother with a honey sweet smile and sultry Russian-accented voice, and judging by his expression, he was just as caught up in her beauty as I was. "I look forward to getting to know you more."

"And I you," he returned with his signature grin.

Her eyes fell to mine once again, lips curving into an amused smile. "And of course, Y/B/N's beautiful sister, Y/N. How lucky a man he must be to have a sister as stunning as you."

The others chuckled, clearly taken by Wanda's smooth way with words. In their eyes, it was flattery at its finest. After all, she was to be welcomed into our family and sucking up to the sister was the best way forward. But I guess, I'd like to believe that there was some truth to her words as her entrancing green eyes sparkled with delight.

"You don't need to win over my sister to get on my good side," Y/B/N joked before I could speak, stealing Wanda's attention away momentarily.

She suppressed a laugh, tilting her head as she studied him with an unreadable expression, before looking to me with curious eyes.

"Thank you for your kind words, Wanda," I finally said to her, offering a small smile.

"Anytime," she quipped, biting her lip to contain her smile.

It was oh so wrong of me to even slightly check her out as she did, knowing that it was not only inappropriate since she was to be my brother's bride, but also wrong since she was a girl and I wasn't supposed to do this. A heat crept up neck as I avoided her teasing gaze, wondering if she knew what she was doing or if she was just a naturally flirty person.

"I'm Pietro," her brother spoke, making me look up again. He was directing a charming smile my way as he continued, "It's an honour to finally meet my best author's younger sister."

I put out my hand for him to shake, but he simply grabbed it and pressed a gentle kiss to the top. I flushed at the contact, a nervous smile on my lips.

"Er, it's nice to meet you, too, Pietro," I returned, subtly wiping my hand when he let go of it.

The twins stood side by side, smiling our way, and I realised just why all the chatter in our social circles revolved around them. Charming, distinguished, good-looking – they were the whole package.

Our parents continued to talk, catching up and talking about stuff I didn't care much for. Every now and then, Y/B/N would chime in if a question was directed his way, or Pietro would add his two cents, or Wanda would say something funny, and I would pretend to get along with all of them when I so desperately wished to go home and go to sleep.

Admittedly, my eyes veered over to my soon-to-be sister-in-law every now and then, unable to look away. She was drop dead gorgeous, with bright hazel eyes that looked green like the earth at this moment, and long brown hair that was pulled back out of her face, revealing her charming smile. Sometimes, when she would smile really widely, a dimple would expose itself on her left cheek at the corner of her mouth, and I was sure that nothing else was cuter than that. Y/B/N was one lucky man.

"...would love for you all to come to our home tomorrow evening for dinner," my father was inviting them all over, bringing me back to reality. "It'll be a great way to get to know each other in a more intimate setting. And it'll give the kids a better chance to get to know each other."

Iryna smiled brightly. "We would love to, Y/D/N. Tomorrow evening is great."

"Perfect," my mum said excitedly. "We'll see you all then."

"Do enjoy the rest of your evening," Oleg said, looking to us all, before looking to my brother. "And Y/B/N, it was good to meet you tonight. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow."

"You, too, sir," Y/B/N said, shaking his hand with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Oleg and Iryna gave us all a smile before turning to leave. Pietro and Wanda did the same, though when Wanda's eyes flickered to mine, she waved her fingers slowly and with a playful smile on her lips. My mouth opened slightly, unsure what to do or say, but nobody seemed to notice as she turned and left, leaving me standing there with confusion.

"Well, I think that went well," my mum said, and I tore my gaze from Wanda's retreating form. "Couldn't have gone better actually."

"I agree," my dad said, wrapping an arm around my mum's waist with a smile. "Tomorrow night will be splendid." He looked to Y/B/N. "What did you think of Wanda, son?"

Y/B/N looked like he was on top of the world with his love struck smile and relaxed posture. "She's beautiful. And did you hear that accent? Wonderful."

My mother chuckled. "How sweet. You're already smitten."

"What did you think of her, Y/N?" my brother asked, and all eyes fell to me.

I straightened up. "Oh, I– er– she's very nice. A beautiful young woman."

"Right?" he said in agreement. "I feel like she really likes you, too. How cool is that? You guys can become friends and be, like, close sister-in-laws."

I forced a small smile. "Yeah. Something like that."

Of course, for everyone's benefit, getting along with Wanda Maximoff was the best bet. But something about her was different and I was yet to discover what.

—

The following evening was when we saw the Maximoffs next. As invited, they turned up at our front door dressed less glamorously than last night, given the occasion, but appearing just as excited. Our servants were quick to take their jackets and hang them up elsewhere as we exchanged greetings in the hall.

The Maximoff parents were genuinely kind and humbling people to be around, I'd come to learn that when they thanked our servants for their help and asked them how their day was, making friendly chatter. Not many people did that when entering our home – it was certainly refreshing to see. They greeted Y/B/N and I kindly before moving onto our parents.

The Maximoff children were just as kind, though with a hint of mischief in their stride as they moved to greet my brother and I. Pietro approached me first, lips pulling into a smile as he bowed playfully. In the corner of my eye, I could see Wanda and Y/B/N exchanging greetings.

"It's a pleasure to be in your presence yet again, Y/N," Pietro said generously. "You look lovely this evening."

A smile appeared on my lips at his kind eyes. "Thank you, Pietro. You look very handsome this evening also."

"Apparently it's lamb for dinner, is that true?" he asked, taking me by surprise. I wasn't sure if he was serious, but when his sister slapped him on the arm, I figured he was.

"Don't be greedy, Piet," she scolded him like this was a regular thing.

"What? It was a simple question," he said with a shrug, before looking to my brother with a grin. "Ah, Y/B/N Y/L/N, my favourite writer."

As he moved over to greet him, Wanda looked over to me with a knowing smile.

"It's good to see you again," she said softly, maintaining eye contact.

"You, too," I played along with whatever was happening, the usual script at a time like this. "I'm sure tonight will be something special for you and my brother. It's good to have you here."

She tilted her head intimidatingly. "Bol'shoye tebe spasibo."

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by her ability to change languages so smoothly. Though, it made sense since she was Sokovian, making Russian her first language. Didn't make it any easier to not be attracted to though.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. disguising my attraction with genuine confusion. "What does that mean?"

She smiled, a hint of smugness present as she answered, "Thank you very much. That's what it means."

I pressed my lips together, humming in response. She held my gaze for a second longer than usual and I wanted to look away, but I was drawn in by the beautiful golden flecks swirled into her irises, captivating and chilling all at once. She didn't seem uncomfortable with the eye contact, instead revelling in it with a content smirk when she saw me squirm. I ended up looking away first, unable to hold a pretty girl's gaze for more than a few seconds without panicking.

"I have something to show you!" my brother was saying excitedly to Pietro. "It's in my study, c'mon."

The two of them wandered off before my mum could stop them.

"Don't be too long, boys!" she called after them, before sighing and looking to Wanda and I. "Y/N, dear, why don't you show Wanda around upstairs, maybe? Hopefully the boys should be back after that and we can all eat dinner together."

I swallowed hard, glancing at a still-smirking Wanda, before looking back to my mum. "Erm, are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, go on, it'll give you ladies a chance to get to know each other better!" she insisted, before ushering me away. "Don't take too long though. Dinner will be ready soon."

Licking my lips nervously, I nodded, watching my mum return to the conversation my dad and Wanda's parents were having. They were led into the living room as Wanda and I were left standing in the hall, her waiting for me to say something.

"This way, I guess," I got out awkwardly, purposely avoiding her eyes as I motioned to the grand staircase.

"After you," she said politely, and I said nothing as I took the lead.

I ended up showing her around the upstairs rooms, including the library we had and the many guest rooms. It was a big home with lots to show for it, so the tour wasn't too boring.

Wanda stayed quiet throughout it, sometimes dropping in a comment or question every now and then, but otherwise listening intently as I explained everything as interestingly as I could. When she did speak, she would leave me fumbling for words or forgetting how to speak altogether. I wondered if she was teasing me on purpose, wanting to get a rise out of her soon-to-be sister-in-law, or if she just wasn't aware of what she was doing.

But every time her mischievous gaze fell to me with a matching smile, I knew that she had to be aware of her actions. Nobody was that teasing without wanting to be. So, that led me to my next question. Why?

Eventually, the last room on the tour was my bedroom. I stepped inside first, holding the door open for her as she followed after and looked around with amusement.

"This is your room," she stated, feet taking her further inside as she took in the appearance of my desk, my bed and my wardrobe. "Fascinating."

I was curious to know what she meant by that, but realising that this woman was an enigma in more ways than one, I knew she wouldn't give me a straight answer. So, I said nothing as I followed after her, remaining close as she soaked in my belongings.

Stopping at my desk, her eyes gazed over the papers spilling from closed notebooks, books marked with string and pens littered across the wood. Thankfully, nothing was open and she didn't seem to be the nosy type, so had no intention of going through anything.

"I see you like writing," she noticed, fingers hovering above the notebooks but not quite making a move to touch them. "Runs in the family, doesn't it?"

"I guess," I said, unsure what she wanted to hear.

She looked up at me, smile tugging at her lips. The same damned smile that had been directed at me since she got here.

"Do you write like your brother?"

I tried not to laugh. "More like he writes like me."

She watched me closely, amusement dancing in her eyes. "He's the author in the family."

I mirrored her smile, though mine was fake. "Published author, love. Doesn't make him the only one."

A chuckle flew from her lips as she looked across my messy desk again, clearly not offended by the hint of annoyance in my voice. I shouldn't have been so offended by her words – she didn't know anything about me – but it always ground my gears when people stuck up for Y/B/N like he was God's gift.

"Do you write?" I asked, half interested and half wanting to change the subject. The least I could do was try to get to know her a little better.

"I prefer painting," she answered without mischief. "It's my favourite thing to do."

Her eyes lit up at the mere mention of art, but she did a good job at reigning it in. She was still studying the books on my desk, distracting herself with the spines instead of facing me.

"And what do you like to paint?" I asked, genuinely interested now that I was beginning to see her actually fond of something that didn't involve making me flustered.

She shrugged, but I knew it was a pretence. "Scenery. Landscapes. We have a beautiful garden at home and it's a pleasure to paint." She finally met my eyes again, a smile of adoration on her lips as she continued talking about the garden. "The flowers, the trees, the little pond we have. It's the perfect subject."

The smile that appeared on my lips was automatic as her passion for her hobby was contagious. The way her whole face lit up, eyes bright with excitement and lips unable to do anything but smile, was intoxicating and I tried not to get lost in the moment. It was true though, what people said. Nobody looked more beautiful than when talking about something they loved.

"I’d love to see your work sometime," I told her earnestly.

Playfulness returning, she hummed in agreement. "Only if I can see yours."

I laughed, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe not."

"Well, that's a shame," she said, still playful, though when I looked up, I almost believed her.

She did that thing again, where she stared at me and held my gaze as if reading my innermost private thoughts. Intimidating wasn't the word, yet it was the only one in my mind as I watched her attempt to decipher me. Clearing my throat, I looked away, suddenly aware of how close she was stood.

"So, my brother," I changed the subject yet again, noticing the entertained expression she wore. "You like him?"

"We are to be engaged, are we not?" she asked with a quirked brow, like the answer was obvious.

I hid the smile from my lips. "That's not what I asked, love."

She licked her lips, pursing them as she saw what I was trying to do. My eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth as she did, and I almost forgot to look away until she started speaking again.

"My parents arranged this," she admitted, not losing composure. "Y/B/N is a gentleman and he seems like a kind man."

I noticed how she still avoided answering the question, but decided not to say anything about it. My eyes studied her curiously though, wondering why exactly she'd agreed to the marriage then. Maybe it was a sense of duty, like every woman had nowadays. Eventually my time would come too and maybe I would be stuck in the same position as her.

"I adore his writing though," she added, like she needed to say something genuine to make up for her lack of answer.

"You and every other woman in the city," I mumbled knowingly.

Wanda let out a breathy laugh. "I'm aware of his many admirers, yes, but can you blame them? He has such a fantastic way with words. And don't get me started on that first piece he ever wrote..." Her eyes rolled back with satisfaction. "It's my favourite. I had no idea who he was back then, but the words he wrote were enough to make me fall in love. I guess it's convenient that my new husband is to be your brother, the author."

I crossed my arms as I leaned against the desk, trying not to break out into laughter. Not because of Wanda's words – they were actually quite sweet – but because of the whole situation. It was hilarious to me, since I was the reason Y/B/N got his big break as a writer anyway.

Following in our father's footsteps, Y/B/N wrote manuscript after manuscript with hopes of getting published. But unfortunately, he never got anywhere with it. I was also a writer, having been taught by my father like Y/B/N when I was a young girl, but unlike him, I was told to stop when I got older because it was 'unladylike' and 'not a woman's place'. That didn't stop me however, and I continued to write like no tomorrow.

Y/B/N's big break, and the first manuscript of his that got published by Pietro – ironically the one that Wanda was discussing right now – was written by me. I gave it to my brother, hoping he could get inspiration. He ended up sending that in and getting signed because of my work. And even now, I occasionally helped him work on pieces that otherwise wouldn't see the light of day.

But nobody wanted to hear about the young, unmarried woman who writes about other women like they are God's best creation. So, Y/B/N keeps the fame and credit whilst I write in private, unable to share any of my work with the world unless it's in excerpts of my brother's books with his name on the front cover.

"That first piece was pretty good, wasn't it?" I played along with Wanda's words, a hint of bitterness in my tone of voice.

Wanda studied me up and down, teasing smile tugging at her lips. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya."

I hummed in acknowledgement, feigning a smile in response, though I wasn't sure what that last word meant. Probably another Russian term she was using to throw me off. Of course she'd assume I was jealous of my brother's recognition. She didn't know the truth and she never could. She was also to marry my brother, the perfect author, soon; my bitter state was merely a jealous sibling and maybe it was easier to let her think that way.

"Dinner should be ready now," I told her, straightening up. "Let's head down."

She followed after me and I said nothing else as I led her back downstairs, trying not to think about how much of an ego-boost this dinner would be for my brother.

There was nothing better than hearing everyone gush over the work your brother took credit for that you actually did, right?

"Ah, ladies, perfect timing!" said my mum when we reached the dining room where everyone was taking their seats. "Please, sit and we can get started. It's a lovely roast from the kitchen tonight."

As I made my way to my usual seat opposite my brother, I saw Pietro fist-pump the air at the mention of the lamb roast, making Wanda roll her eyes and me smile at his action. Y//B/N took his seat and Wanda's parents seemed to take the two chairs beside him already. My parents took to each end of the table, leaving the Maximoff twins no choice but to sit beside me. I sat at the same spot as usual, at the edge of the table so my left-handed self wouldn't bother whoever was sat beside me, and take a lucky guess to who sat on my right.

"Wanda, dear, how was your tour?" my mum asked her as she got comfortable beside me, leg and shoulder almost touching mine and making me both nervous and disgruntled.

With a grin wide enough to impress my mother, she answered, "It was great. You have a beautiful home, Mrs Y/L/N. And Y/N was a lovely host."

At that last comment, I felt her eyes glance towards me and I wondered if she was having fun making me squirm because I knew for sure that I was anything but a lovely host.

"That's reassuring to hear," my mother responded as the food was brought out and placed in the centre of the table. She seemed like she was joking, but I knew she was just glad I'd been on my best behaviour. "And please, call me Y/M/N."

Wanda nodded gratefully as my dad began to cut into the roast. Food was served up and drinks were poured as everybody began to dig in. The Maximoffs sent their compliments to the chef, admired our home and were the perfect guests, just as they were expected to be. My family complimented Wanda and Pietro's manners, talked about how business was going and laughed at every joke Oleg and Iryna uttered, just as they were expected to be. It really was a picture-perfect scene and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Okay, maybe I was acting a little cynical. The Maximoffs weren't that bad, at least not as bad I'd assumed they would be compared to my parents' other friends. They were down-to-Earth and humbled people, a welcoming change from the usual. I just hated forced dinners and being scrutinised under my mother's eyes to behave, hence the clipped attitude.

And just on cue, the topic steered towards something lovely.

"We can't forget to talk about Y/B/N, bestselling author over here!" Oleg beamed, motioning to my brother. "I have to admit, son, I'm amazed at your writing. You clearly have your father's talent."

My brother smiled bashfully as I watched on with narrowed eyes and a tight grip on my fork.

"You flatter me," he said, but Iryna shook her head.

"I have to agree with my husband here, Y/B/N," she said. "Your writing is superb. Pietro, obviously, loves it, and Wanda is a huge fan, too."

At this, my brother glanced towards Wanda with excited eyes and she merely smiled and looked elsewhere, either embarrassed to be mentioned or playing coy. Rolling my eyes came naturally at this point.

"Tell me, how did you think of what to write for that first book?" Iryna asked with intrigue. "It was my favourite one."

Ah, yes, the first book. Apparently everyone's favourite one.

"Oh, it's best not to bring all that up–"

"I'd actually like to know, too," Wanda cut him off, her curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned forward onto the palm of her hand and watched him under long eyelashes.

I couldn't keep the smile of delight from my face as I too leaned forward curiously, eyeing my brother. "Yes, dear, brother. Please, do tell us of how you came to write such an honest, heartfelt first book."

At this, I felt both my parents send me a warning look as they knew the truth. But neither of the Maximoffs noticed as their attention was solely on my brother.

Luckily for him, he was a great liar and he smiled his charming smile and nodded, looking between the four guests.

"I guess it started after my third failed manuscript," he began, very believably. "I realised that there was something missing from my pages. Something real and genuine. Something that would appeal to my readers and make them question just how much they were appreciating their partner, you know?"

As he rambled off into another literary spout of nonsense, my smile faded and I gritted my teeth, wondering how he'd gotten so good at lying without giving away a sliver of pretence. The Maximoffs were hanging onto his every word, fascinated by the mind of a writer. I tried not to let it get to me as he butchered the meaning behind everything I had written in that first novel. Some things were better left unsaid.

When he finished, questions were fired his way and my parents watched on with pride in their eyes, as he answered them with ease. I chose to stay quiet, as usual, letting him soak in the credit for something he didn't do.

"And what do you think, Y/N?" Wanda's voice included me in the conversation, and everybody's eyes fell to me. I was only looking at her as her lips were pulled into a wide, suggestive smile and she continued, "How is it being the sister of one of today's bestselling authors?"

The usual forced smile that accompanied my lips whenever talking about Y/B/N because present, but my eyes were questioning Wanda's as she was clearly trying to get a rise out of me yet again, especially now that she assumed I was jealous of her husband-to-be's fame. Her stupid beautiful smile and stupid pretty eyes and stupid attractive accent were all taunting me.

"It makes me proud to know that he's come so far from when we were younger," I said, and though I was irritated by the way it had happened, my words weren't entirely false. "He's a talented man and he clearly has a way with words. What more is there to say?"

The elders seemed touched by my words and when I looked over the table to meet my brother's gaze, I saw the gratitude in his expression, hiding behind his smile and reserved for me. I nodded subtly, letting him know I was happy to keep his secret as long as he wished, just like we'd agreed.

Chatter and compliments soon turned to the real reason for our presence – the engagement. I tucked into my dessert as I let them talk about dates for the engagement party, logistics for guests and all the other details I could care less about. Only when my brother mentioned my name did I look up, surprised to see all eyes on me yet again.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked politely, glancing around.

"Y/N, honey, lay off the chocolate cake, will you?" my mum said with a smile that I knew was code for 'put the bloody fork down'.

I forced a smile of my own as I lowered my fork and sat up straight, very ladylike, and looked to my brother.

"I was saying how I'll be sure to pick a beautiful engagement ring for Wanda here," he no-doubt repeated for my sake. "And maybe you could help me choose, to make sure it's something she may like."

A genuine sarcastic smile broke out on my lips, though not because I was interested in ring shopping with my brother. I knew absolutely nothing about dear Wanda or her taste in jewellery, but a woman was to do what she was best at – shopping! So, without sharing my true thoughts on the situation, I nodded respectfully and hummed in agreement.

"Of course," I said what everybody wanted to hear. "I'm sure we can find something to suit Wanda's taste."

Everybody resumed chatter about the wedding as I sighed quietly and got back to my cake. My right hand rested by my side and I jumped, startled when I made contact with Wanda's fingers.

"Sorry," I apologised, moving my hand a little from hers but keeping it there. "Left-handed an' all. I tend to forget."

Green eyes pierced through me with a matching sly smile. "No problem, milaya."

Again with the 'milaya' talk – what did that even mean? I returned the awkward smile as I continued eating, but I didn't fail to notice the way her hand would brush against mine throughout the rest of the meal.

Either by accident or on purpose, I'd never know, but I had my suspicions.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen

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flower-slut004 · 3 years ago

Note

Hey I had a request for a daniel sharman x plus size reader one shot? Could you do a fluffy one where the reader is daniel's girlfriend but she feels insecure about her body so he makes her feel better? just something fluffy and cute please hehe. If you don't feel comfy writing a plus size reader, you could even just do daniel sharman x reader where the reader feels insecure in general. Also haha you could also do this same thing but with isaac lahey if you wanted! I'm good with that too. thank you :))

Dove- Daniel Sharman x Plus-size!reader

Note: omg my prayers have been answered a request 😭. I’ll write both but I’ll need to think of another plot for Isaac unless you want me to use the same one. Thank you so much for requesting 🤍/// Your nickname is Dove but I also used YN

Friday afternoons were usually date nights for Daniel and you. Today wasn't any different as Daniel sat on a couch patiently outside of the dressing room waiting for you to show him what you picked. You really enjoyed shopping but it has always been a bit of a struggle since you have a curvier figure than most women.

It made finding clothes a bit of a struggle. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. Sometimes, the pants fit just right at the top but were too long at the bottom, or sometimes it was the other way around. You were used to this frustrating search of finding the perfect pants but sometimes it got to you.

After trying on what seemed like the millionth pair of pants your eyes began to burn from tears you were trying to hold back from being frustrated from not finding that one pair of jeans that fit nicely. Not wanting to cry over something like this and worry Daniel outside, you attempted to try and control your breathing.

Daniel felt like you were taking a long time and decided to go check on you to see if you were okay. Getting up from where he was sitting he walked to your dressing room before he could say anything he heard sniffles.

He felt his heartbreak listening to you cry. He knew you had always struggled with your own body image. While you had been getting more comfortable in your own body, there were still times when you felt insecure.

“Dove, can you let me in?”, He said gently, knocking on the door. A few seconds pass by with no reply. Daniel rose his hand to knock again but the door slowly opened the door. He quickly walked and closed the door behind him. Daniel saw you looking down at the floor and gently cupped your chin so you'd look at him.

Daniel looked at your red puffy eyes and felt his heartbreak at the sight of your puffy eyes and trembling lip.

He opens his arms without saying a word and you gladly walk into them feeling his warmth. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty little head of yours dove”, he says as he rubs soothing circles down your back. You bury your head into his chest breathing in and out for a few seconds to calm down then take a step back to look up at him.

“I’m just frustrated. None of these jeans fit me. I feel ugly.”, You whispered finally letting the tears run down your cheeks.

“Yn, you are not ugly! Your body is gorgeous”, He says grabbing your face in his hands, “I love you. Your body isn’t the problem, the clothes are.” He kisses tears away from your face. You stay in his arms for a few minutes your sniffles dying down.

“I just felt sad, I’m starting to feel better thanks to you”, you said wiping your tears away,” Okay, I think I’m ready to go look for more jeans”.

“Good, if you need anything I’ll be on the couch just outside your room dove”, He says kissing the top of your head. You smile and nod as he walks out of the room. You took another deep breath and exited the dressing room.

Luck was on your side because after the third pair of jeans you slipped on, it fit perfectly. They were a little long, but not too long so that was fixable.

“Daniel look!”, you called out in excitement. When he looked up from his phone, he let out a whistle. The jeans seem to be made for you, seeing your smile made his heart melt.

“Yn, you look amazing, give me a little twirl”, he stood up and made a twirling motion with his fingers. You did as he asked with a giggle.

“Absolutely breathtaking”, He says as he grabs you bringing you in for a kiss. You giggle and kiss him back. “Come on I’ll buy them for you. We can go home after and watch some movies as we cuddle"

“Oh, you don’t have to”, You say looking up at him. “No, let me, anything for my girl”, he smiles down at you. You gave him a bright smile and nodded.

“Go put your clothes on so we can buy them”, he says spinning you around towards the fitting room and giving your ass a slap

“Daniel!”, you gasp laughing.

“Hey! they make your ass look great" he smirked.

#daniel sharman imagine #daniel sharman #daniel sharman x reader #multifandom imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

Text

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

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bisolationist · 1 year ago

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Do you know if bannedwebsites ever remade? I miss her.

/pusheen-the-radical/707800096738263040/menalez-menalez-bannedwebsites-menalez

I'm so mad shit like this made us lose a great woman and ally. They just came in and decided obviously anything asking for basic respect is instead evil and homophobic. There was no reason to assume it was about wanting to invade lesbian spaces specifically that was such an asspull, it was obviously about LGB spaces as a whole. They're not bi so I don't expect them to get it but no, "everywhere else is a you-friendly space" is just not true for bi women. They always want to equate how we're identical to het women and then say we're being homophobic if we don't agree. that post speaks to me so much because when i dated a man i lost so much of my support network. its about how people, and other bi women too, dehumanize us and see us as 'ruined', call us nasty names behind our back, and encourage other people to also dehumanize us on threat of ostracizing them too. and i was lucky, i've seen bi women who were abused by homophobes who then had it much worse, with people even supporting their het abusers, or attacking them at LGB support groups. One woman I met wasn't even dating the man that SAd her but people still said she had no place in LGB groups.

No I have no idea :( though I agree I thought she was great. (though tbh even if I did know if she'd remade, I wouldn't out someone unless I explicitly knew they were trying to find old followers. Psst people sending me asks about other tumblr users - this is why I haven't responded, sorry). And yeah oh god, I remember this shit. I'm so sorry to hear about your experiences. Unfortunately I've heard a lot of things like that. I experienced something very similar, with a lot of my friends ditching me very quickly when I figured out it was bi. It was definitely hurtful, isolating, and set me up for a lot of bad relationships (ironically mostly with older men, since I was suddenly frozen out from most social gatherings on campus). I've unfortunately heard from a staggering amount of bi people at this point on similar things, especially about being treated badly by LGB groups after being assaulted or abused in some way. I've mentioned this repeatedly on this blog, but it baffles me how biphobia seems to intensify whenever bisexuals are victimized by heterosexuals, as if being shown that we DO experience homophobia makes them angry? On the micro level, if people find bisexuality so abhorrent for whatever reason, it's not like we can force them to be better friends/people, and there's no amount of messages like this that'll make those people act any different. They're proud of how they treat bisexuals just like those people are proud to read malicious intent in even the mildest pleas for respect or civility. On the macro level it's like... yeah we do need to challenge this notion that we become immune to past, present, and future homophobia the second we're in an other-sex relationship and therefore it's okay to treat us exactly like heterosexuals. I don't know why they think people that were homophobic to us will suddenly treat us well, or that we won't face homophobia in the future. For the millionth time, it's really extra nasty to say this about bi women considering how often they are abused by their male partners. But that of course is discounted (despite it being directly addressed in the third post), this is obviously a nasty evil plot by bihets to pretend to be oppressed. And yeah it's funny how they always end up comparing us to heterosexuals and insisting we're just as widely beloved and supported as they are. It's pathetically transparent since something as simple as "don't treat bi women as extensions of men" seems to cause so much indignation.

#also the digs at banned about how obviously as lesbians they could read it correctly and she couldn't #when banned is also a lesbian :X

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 4 years ago

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The beauty in the choice that is Glimmadora

Season 1, episode 2, roughly 18 odd minutes into the runtime, with Theymore in ruins and Glimmer and Adora having a moment that defines them both as people. Aka, the /exact/ moment I fell head-first into Glimmadora hell. And keep falling

First of all, because of how Adora says 'Glimmer'- softly, disbelieving, just the tiny bit hopeful- and then for what they both say next.

Adora- "Glimmer..? What are you doing? Why did you save me?"

Glimmer- "We need you. We need She-Ra. *brings out the sword* I should have given this back to you in the ruin. *Adora stares* You could have saved us in there and I knew that... but I was stupid, *starts crying* and a jerk, and I almost got us killed and I'm sorry!"

Adora- "You're not any of those things. I'm the Horde soldier! How do you know you can trust me now?"

Glimmer- "... I don't. But I hope I can. I feel like, maybe, you're here to help us. *holds out the sword*"

Adora- *slowly reaches out* *sees a Horde bot closing in on her and a magically exhausted Glimmer, who just spent some of her last magic saving Adora* *reaches for the sword again, hesitates*

Adora- *grabs the sword and puts herself between the charging Horde bot and Glimmer*

This right here? This is beautiful.

And here is why i think so

I'm a sucker for moments when characters make their own choices. When things line up and they stand on a crossroads, all the power of which way the story swings resting in their hands...

I'm even more of a sucker for two characters, both given that power of choice, picking the path they feel is right for them, and that also leads them to each other.

After two episodes of build up, showing why they believe what they believe, how that pits them against each other, and how it also opens the door to them realizing they actually share a common goal- protecting people- there is a pause. A gap of open space. Glimmer and Adora are given room to make their decisions, and there is no outside push that forces them together. Actually, THEY are the ones who have to push towards each other, in SPITE of everything.

The sword doesn't glow or start magically tugging itself towards Adora, the new She-Ra, prompting Glimmer to give in and bring it to her. Bow doesn't nudge her into going after Adora. He's shocked when she suggests it! Even rebuts by pointing out that Adora had just (seemingly) sold them out to the Horde!

It's Glimmer's choice, and hers alone, to go find Adora.

Apologizing for being a jerk also wasn't required, she could have given her the sword without that. But she wanted to say sorry. She felt bad about what she'd done. She wanted to own up to her mistakes, and do it in front of someone who she was not long ago calling a 'monster'.

Leading up to this, it was Adora's choice to try stopping the Horde's attack on Theymore. Her choice to leave the Horde, even if it meant losing everything she had, everything she'd ever known- Her best friend (who she asked to come with her, and who's choice to stay she accepted. Who she apologized to, because it was hard to go, but she had to), her promotion, her home, her idea of who she was and how the world worked, all of the certainty in her life. In the face of seeing innocent unarmed people fleeing in front of the Horde's crushing tanks, Adora gave it all up, without know what, if anything she would find to replace it with.

She wasn't part of the Rebellion yet. She didn't have the sword.

The narrative could have made her a Rebel first. It could have had her accepted in Bright Moon and be given a place there. It could have had Glimmer give her the sword before confronting Catra. Adora could have been safely herded into her new life outside the Horde. A better life, with security and power and no fear of Shadow Weaver hurting her best and only friend and then putting the responsibility of that pain on her. Faced with that choice, would it even be much of a choice at all?

Adora doesn't get that though. She has no certainty, no sword, no acceptance. Even after doing her She-Ra thing and driving off the Horde, she panics, asking what she's going to do now she's gone against the Horde. She doesn't even know where she will go, afterwards. She doesn't know if she will have a place outside the one she just threw away. And she still left.

And when she talks to Glimmer, she didn't have to reassure Glimmer that she wasn't a jerk or stupid of "any of those things". That was just something she wanted to say, right then, to the girl who took her prisoner. To the girl who took a Horde soldier prisoner. To the girl who didn't leave her to die in the collapsing ruin, and came for her again, saved her from being dragged back to the Horde as a traitor.

She wanted Glimmer to know that she, Adora, didn't think any of those bad things about her. Didn't blame her for being furious at someone from an army that is destroying her home, or think she was stupid for not trusting a Horde soldier with a powerful weapon.

Adora didn't have to ask how Glimmer can trust her now. She wanted to know the answer, herself. She was a Horde soldier. She understood what that meant, now, and she didn't want to be that anymore. But what had she done so far, to earn Glimmer's trust?

Glimmer could have said platitudes to that, could have smoothed it over with The Power Of Friendship or maybe just Well You Haven't Killed Or Betrayed Us Yet When You Had The Chance, or even, I'm Out Of Options And The Magical Sword Likes You So Destiny Maybe.

She doesn't say any of that. It might be easier for Adora to hear, but it's not true. To the girl who is suddenly questioning her whole life and everything she was ever told, Glimmer says the truth instead.

It's not what Adora's done so far that's convinced Glimmer. It's what Glimmer thinks Adora wants to do from now on. That's what Glimmer is putting her trust in. Adora's own choices, not the ones that were made for her.

And what does Adora do? The very first thing she does, when Glimmer hands her an incredibly powerful magical sword?

She protects Glimmer. She uses the sword, to protect. To defend. That is her choice.

That's what Glimmer saw in her, the hope she found. That's what she put the Rebellion on the line for, risked ruin by handing the sword over to someone who still has the Horde symbol on their back. There was who Adora had been, up to this point. And then there was who she wanted to be.

A Horde soldier who didn't want to hurt people, argued with Glimmer not because she thought that hurting others was justified, but because she didn't want to believe the Horde HAD hurt people. A Horde soldier who didn't scoff at the people of Theymore for being weak or unguarded or try to take advantage of these trusting people- the opposite, in fact. Adora was enthralled. Awed. When she realized this was the place the Horde would be attacking, she couldn't believe it. She wanted it be a mistake. She listened, finally, when Glimmer showed her that it wasn't.

And faced with Glimmer and the sword, the terrifying leap from her old life into some new unknown, Adora looks at Glimmer's choices for guidance. "I'm the Horde soldier!" she says, "How do you know you can trust me now?"

How does Glimmer know she's doing the right thing? How can Glimmer be sure?

Glimmer isn't sure. She says as much. She's making the choice anyway.

How does Adora know she's also making the right choice? How can she be sure?

She can't be.

She can only see what Glimmer did, confronted with the same risk, and decide if that's an example she wants to follow. If this girl, angry and pained, brave and protective, imperfect and trying, strong enough to look at her own mistakes and apologize for them- is this someone Adora wants to see in herself? Is THIS who she wants to be like? At the cost of everything else? With no guarantees how it will end for her?

Yes. She decides it is.

She takes the jump with Glimmer. She follows this strange, rebel princess into the unknown.

And in that moment, they aren't strangers anymore.

It's so wonderful, even re-watching it for the millionth time- The dialogue, the voice acting, the emotional and narrative payoff from everything that had been shown before. Everything Glimmer has lost (her father, her relationship with her mother, her own sense of worth tied up in a war she keeps losing). Everything Adora stands to lose (her home, her self worth so tied up in the captains rank she's been trained for. Her childhood friend, her enemy now)

The pressure that was on both Glimmer and Adora to stay the way they were- (Through Angella, and even a little from Bow, through Shadow Weaver and Catra) (Even Light Hope and the sword only confuses things, the simple question of where Adora came from suddenly getting tied up in mystery and treason, the answer that was supposed to give her a sense of belonging threatening to isolate her instead)- that pressure to walk away is very real. Don't take that risk. Don't make that jump. It frightening and hard. You might be wrong.

Don't reach out to each other, don't change, don't meet each other there, in that terrifying middle ground.

And THEN, their decisions to both say 'fuck it' and do what they thought was right instead. Even if they weren't sure what would happen next.

If it might let them help others more than they have so far, save the rebellion, protect the people who really need protecting, well then, for Glimmer and Adora, that made it worth it, to do the right thing. To be the people they both really want to be.

Which, in the end, meant being a lot like each other, at their core.

I love that.

There is nothing in a story more powerful to me, than when a choice like this is made. When it feels earned, and meaningful. When it grows out of the story that had been unfolding up till then, and changes the way it will end.

When it's two women making that change, that choice, together? I'll never get enough of that.

And the intimacy. My god.

After being so open, honest, raw, it's not surprising when Glimmer and Adora come together in the aftermath. Enemies one episode ago, fire forged friends now, them holding onto each other feels right, by the episode's end. Physically reaching out, mirroring and confirming what they both had already done. Especially how gentle Glimmer is with Adora's moment of panic, how she reaches out to calm her, reassures her she DOES have a place, and friends. The moment when she offers her hand to help Adora stand again, and Adora looks up, smiles at her before taking it...

the CATHARSIS of seeing THESE TWO ENEMIES TURNED ????? TURNED FRIENDS HOLDING ONTO EACH OTHER, LETTING EACH OTHER BE SO CLOSE- AND THAT GLIMMER IS SUPPORTING ADORA IN THIS MOMENT EVEN THOUGH SHE HERSELF IS FRESH OUT OF MAGIC AND IS FEELING IT, BUT SHE KNOWS WHAT ADORA JUST WENT THROUGH BECAUSE THEY WENT THROUGH IT TOGETHER, IT- IT- IT'S-

Yeah. my little wlw heart didn't stand a chance. i will be smitten forever with these two, from the force of a couple of episodes and some vERY nicely handled writing

..... also, the way Adora helps a fainting Glimmer and props her up against a rock, but with her hands just resting on Glimmer for a moment like...

i've stared at this screencap for a long time, ngl

#spop #glimmadora #glimmer #adora #.#no im not over s1 don't touch me #i'll never be over it #LOOK #AT #THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!DDSFAFAFSFG<

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vannybarber · 4 years ago

Text

All Night Long

Summary: You know very well what he does when he leaves and you know you need to let go.

Ari Levinson x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: angst, cheating, cursing, implies of smut.

They told you. All of them did. But you didn't need anyone to tell you because you knew. And stayed anyway. Why? Because you were a fool in love. You know he needs you and that is what keeps you there. And you needed him.

At first, it was 2 or 3 times a year. He would leave to Sudan with other agents to save refugees and sneak them to Israel. A man with a good heart. For those in particular of course. You had recieved a piece of that heart, but not all of it. You weren't enough. Not enough to stay faithful to. Not enough to give everything to. Just not enough.

Fast forward 6 years later, it became 5 or 6 times every year in between months. You barely saw the man. But you stayed. Because you loved him enough. Enough to stay faithful to. Enough to give everything to. Just enough.

After he'd come back home, you were there. Waiting for him, like he always knew you would. And every time, you could see it in his eyes. It's like as soon as he saw you, there was pain. Pain of remembering what he does when he's gone. Pain of knowing that you were aware and continued to play it off. Pain of knowing you'd still stand by him and suffer in the process.

Sometimes his agent buddies came and picked him up for their next expedition. All of them were kind to you, partially out of pity. Especially Rachel. But only she was nice out of straight guilt. Because both of you knew she was on her back for him every time he left.

Before and during your relationship.

You could even see it in their body language. It became a numb feeling you were used to after a while though.

What gave everything away in the first place, was when he came back, he would make love to you so good, you could still feel it for the time that he left. At first you just took it as him missing you since he was away for so long.

But as time went by, it gotten to something you couldn't explain. It was passionate, but it was as if he had hurt you. Like makeup sex or something. As if he was fucking you, asking for forgiveness. Because he was getting it from someone else. Well others, you should say.

But you took it anyway. To forget everything in that moment. The pain. The lies. The blatant disrespect. Just a moment of bliss no one could take away from you. Until you both came and it was back to square one. Back to reality. But reality set in and you had to get real. Do for you. Get out.

That's what led you to your current position.

Standing in the middle of you and Ari's shared bedroom. You took all of your belongings and moved them into your new spot hours from here, across town. He was on his way back from his last voyage. He told you that he managed to get 1200 Sudanese from the attacks on their village to safety.

You were happy that he used his privilege to help out these people that needed a better life. That wanted a better life for their kids. But you wanted him to use that same energy into you. Keyword: wanted. That was a past dream that couldn't come true even if tried.

After moments of random thoughts to yourself, you hear your lover come through the door. The sound of his infamous brown backpack you grew to hate, hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, agony washing over you. You had to do this. You didn't deserve to be treated like this.

Walking in the room, his eyes fall on you. And you see it for the millionth time. Pain. It would never stop. That's why you had to put an end to it yourself. He comes over and hugs you. A guilt covered one. Of course you hug him back. That would be the last time you do.

In his arms, you look up at him and give him a tired smile. He mirrors your action and leans down for a deep kiss.

From the mouth that has been on many different faces and other places you could not name.

You kiss him back, nothing less of desperation and tongue, with a touch of cherry lipstick that you've never owned, but do remember Rachel showing you after she bought it the last time you saw her. Pulling away, you're met with those sea blue eyes. The ones that scanned over the resort after one of him many artifices. Sadness washed over you at that moment. You wouldn't be seeing those any longer.

"Ari, I can't do this anymore."

He looks at you, not with confusion, but shock. Shocked that you were finally putting your foot down. Even you yourself were flabbergasted at your own thoughts. You've always had them but never acted on them.

"Baby, what do you mean?" he pulls back a little. "I d-don't get it." You almost laugh at that word. Baby. The name he had for all the women he allowed on his body. It was nothing to you but a starter for a sentence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. For 6 years I stayed beside you. Alone. No marriage. No kids. Everything I wanted was flushed away for you. Even though you were unfaithful to me." Your arms were crossed, fingers playing with the keys in hand. Every word you let out was shakey.

"I'm going for good. To start over with someone who actually loves me. With someone who feels I am enough." Raising your voice a little, you continue. "You got your fucking resort. You got your countless whores. But you don't have me."

As you walk away almost at the door, he grabs your arm. Pulling you back like he always does, you find yourself back in front of him.

"I know you don't mean that, sweetheart." His hands trail up to your waist. "You know I love you and you love me. No one can do you as good as me." And he was right. You weren't someone who got around. He was all you knew. He taught you everything. Nothing could come close to him.

Feeling his breath fan over your face, you get nervous. All the dignity and confidence you had earlier was slowly fading away. He got to you per usual. Your plan was falling apart. You were falling apart.

He proceeded with his persuasive speech. "You can't leave me baby. You're all I got. I need you." By now, his front was against yours, face near your ear, right cheek rested against your right one. His little plan was working oh so well. You were giving in and it hurt so bad.

"Ari.. "

"Shh." He silences you and kisses down your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, hands gripping the soft flesh on your lower back through your jeans. He was touching you just how you liked him to. He knew all the moves to get you in his court.

"Please don't leave me. I can't live without you." He was begging, but not enough that he was actually desperate. He knew your answer. He sucked harder, hands moving up to squeeze your breasts. It was a done deal now.

"Okay, okay" you spoke shamefully. But that all went away when he picked you up and placed you on the bed. Here was your moment to forget. The moment of pure bliss. And you were gonna bathe in it. All night long.

I'm messed up in the head for enjoying writing sad stuff like this. 😭

#Spotify #cevans #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #ari levinson #the red sea diving resort #fanfic #fanfiction

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itsadamcole · 4 years ago

Text

fix you

fem!reader x finn balor

(requested) reader loses someone really close to her and Finn is the only one who can "fix her" ...

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: mentions of someone dying, the grieving process, crying, upset!reader

— this is based on “fix you” by coldplay. thank you to anonymous for requesting this. it’s one of my favorite things i’ve ever written —

masterlist || request an imagine here

***

The first feeling you felt was numbness. It didn't seem real when your brother called you to tell you the news. You couldn't believe what your brother was telling you. It was shocking and very unexpected.

"Y/N, Mom and Dad were hit by a drunk driver," your brother said to you over the phone. "They went to the hospital but they didn't make it. They're gone."

The funeral was the same day that you had an opportunity for the NXT Women's Championship so you couldn't go, but you won the title. Nothing felt any different. You didn't feel happy or in a celebratory mood. Yeah, maybe you felt borderline content with winning the title, but it didn't help you feel better like you thought you would. You put on a fake smile but cried real tears that day. The confetti fell, everyone was celebrating, and all you wanted was to see your parents' faces in the crowd. They weren't there.

It's been a week since you won the title, and you're still in denial about your brother's call. You've tried calling your parents' phones, hoping they'd answer. You only spoke to their voicemails. You just wanted to hear their voices. It had been a few weeks since you last talked to them, and you wish you talked to them more recently.

You've pushed all your friends away since you've tried to cope with your parent's deaths. You've been so tired, but you haven't been able to sleep at night. Non-stop tears streaming down your face for days, maybe even weeks. You don't even know.

What am I supposed to do when I lose something I can't replace? you think to yourself every night when you lay in bed. The thoughts constantly ring through your mind when you're trying to sleep. Does it get worse than this? Can you handle it if it does get worse than this?

One of your friends, well your boyfriend, asked you if he could come to your apartment today. You told him he can come over. You saw him the day you won your title but you haven't seen anyone in days

You've been hiding out in your apartment, barely eating and not showering. You haven't had any motivation to do anything. Your little one-bedroom apartment is a disaster. Clothes are thrown everywhere in your room, the living room is covered in trash and glasses, and the dishes are piling up in the sink. The title lays on the arm of one of the chairs in the living room.

At almost one in the afternoon, there's a light knock on your apartment door. You get up, brushing your hair out of your face and wiping the tears away that have stained your cheeks. You unlock the door and open it.

Finn Balor stands at your front door in his signature black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, and jeans. He's holding a bouquet of flowers, a bag with snacks, and an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts. The tears start again at the kind gesture. "Finn," you cry, walking toward him and hugging him.

"Don't cry," Finn coos. "Come on, let's go dig into these snacks, yeah?"

Nodding, you let Finn walk into the dark apartment. The curtains are all closed, making it darker in the apartment than it is outside. Finn looks around the apartment, setting the bag of snacks down on the kitchen island counter. You stand behind him and look at his view.

"I, um," you say, clearing your throat. "I haven't had the chance to clean it up." Finn turns and looks back at you. Tears well in your eyes. "Actually, that's a lie. I haven't had the motivation to clean it up in weeks."

Your boyfriend sees the tears in your eyes and says, "Hey, that's okay. Ya are going through a lot, Y/N. We can clean it up together and I can help ya in any way ya need me to help."

Nodding, you say, "That sounds nice, Finn. Thank you."

Finn nods and says, "Anything for ya, my love." He walks over to the silverware drawer and grabs spoons. "So, I brought over your favorite ice cream and we can watch some Netflix or Disney Plus. Whatever ya wanna do."

He hands you a spoon and a tub of your favorite ice cream flavor, chocolate chip cookie dough. You take the tub and walk to the couch. You throw the empty boxes of tissues off the couch so Finn can sit. He joins you and grabs the remote, putting on Netflix. You open the tub of ice cream.

"You've been starting a lot of things but ya don't finish watching them," Finn observes. "Ya started so many shows."

You stab at the ice cream and say, "Yeah, I watch it then I get sidetracked with crying." You stab harder at the ice cream and get frustrated. "Why won't this stupid spoon go into the ice cream?"

Finn looks over at you and says, "It's a frozen food, Y/N. It'll defrost a bit if ya give it time."

Getting irritable, you mumble, "Time's not something a lot of us have." His facial expression softens when he hears what you say.

These comments and thoughts aren't uncommon, especially recently. You've been thinking about this a lot while you've spent hours upon hours crying.

You're still stabbing at the frozen ice cream when Finn reaches over. You snap, "I can do it myself."

"I was just trying to help," Finn says, pulling his hands back from you. He's looking at you while you finally get a spoonful of ice cream onto the metal spoon. You take the bite.

"I don't need you to help me with getting ice cream onto a spoon," you say.

Finn looks at you and asks, "Why am I here then? All you're doing is snapping at me and making these comments that you didn't make before."

You say, "You're the one that asked to come over, Finn."

He blinks at you and says, "Because I missed my girlfriend, Y/N. I still do. I don't know who ya are anymore. I don't know this person. Ya disappeared after ya won the title and I didn't hear from ya until I reached out to ask to come over. I probably wouldn't have ever heard from ya if I didn't ask to come over."

While Finn talked, you put the tub of ice cream on the table. When he's done, you say, "My parents died, I didn't get to say goodbye, and you expect me to just be the same Y/N I was before they died. I didn't even get to go to their funeral, Finn. I was too busy winning a title I'll eventually lose anyway. I was winning a title that I don't even deserve." You begin crying again for the millionth time in weeks.

Finn turns so he's facing you as he says, "I never expected ya to be the same Y/N ya were before. I one hundred percent never expected ya to be the same Y/N. I've never lost a parent let alone two so I can't understand the pain and the anger you're feeling right now." He takes your hands in his and holds them while you cry. "Especially because they died so unexpectedly and you didn't get to say goodbye to them."

"Fix me, Finn," you cry to your boyfriend. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep crying when the smallest thing sets me off like this. I can't have my apartment looking like this." You motion to the messy room around you. "For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely happy because you were here. I feel like you're the only one who can fix me."

He pulls you into a tight hug and your bury your face into Finn's neck. You cry silently as Finn says, "I'll try to fix ya, Y/N. I can't promise that I can but I'll try. I can't be the only one putting in effort though, baby. I need ya to work with me on this too."

You look up at Finn and you nod, saying, "I can do that." He gives you a soft smile and wipes away your tears before cupping your face. You meet his eyes before he rests his forehead on yours.

Your boyfriend says, "Ya know I'm always here for ya, Y/N. Ya don't have to push me away like I know ya probably want to. I'm in this with ya. Tell me what ya need and we can get started."

"Can we clean my apartment so it looks halfway decent again?" you ask.

Finn laughs a little bit and says, "Of course. I'll get some trash bags and we can start."

Nodding, you pull yourself away from Finn and he gets up. He grabs trash bags from the kitchen and you gather the empty tissue boxes that litter the floor. You grab the used tissues too that missed the tiny trash can you have in the room. Finn returns with an open trash bag and you throw them out.

Then you walk into the kitchen to do the pile of dirty dishes. Finn brings you any glasses, plates, or silverware he finds throughout the living room and dining room areas. He does the same in your bedroom. You do them as he brings them to you.

Your boyfriend being here has given you a little extra motivation you failed to find over the past few weeks. He's helping you clean, and he promised to help try and fix what's going on with you.

You know it won't be easy learning to cope with your parents' deaths, but maybe Finn being around can help you begin to cope. Sometimes having someone to be there for you isn't a terrible idea. So, you make a mental note to see your other friends when you go to NXT tonight.

Step one is to cope with the fact that your parents are gone. Learn to deal with all the emotions you're feeling without keeping them bottled up or snapping on someone because you're feeling emotional. Finn can help you with that, and you're grateful.

It's one step at a time from now on while you learn to cope. You'll figure out step two when you eventually get past step one.

It's close to four when the apartment is cleaned, dusted, swept, vaccummed, and washed. You've even showered and shaved by this time, and dressed in clean clothes that aren't stained with tears or snot. Your hair doesn't look like a bird's nest and you were actually able to put on some makeup so now it looks like you've slept.

You walk into the living room after your shower and find Finn on the couch watching Netflix. You walk up behind him and cover his eyes. "Guess who?" you say by his ear.

"Hm, I don't know," he tease. "Whoever it is actually smells clean."

After gently tapping the back of his head, you uncover his eyes and say, "Jerk."

Finn turns his head and looks at you. He smiles and says, "Look at ya. Ya look good in actual clothes instead of a t-shirt and sweatpants. Not that ya don't look good in a t-shirt and sweatpants but ya have probably been wearing them for days."

You say, "You're the reason I'm actually dressed. You give me a little extra motivation and kick just by being here. Thank you."

He gets on his knees and faces you. "I'm just here to help ya get through this," he says. "Start to finish."

You wrap your arms around his neck and say, "You're the best. I don't deserve this."

Finn says, "Ya don't deserve what happened to ya. We can fly to your hometown so ya can see your family if ya want."

"When I'm a little stronger and I can handle my emotions better we can," you say. Your face falls. "My parents never were able to meet you."

He says, "I don't have to meet them to know that they gave birth and raised one of the most intelligent, athletic, strong, and most beautiful women on this planet. I know they would have went off and started telling me how smart ya are, how strong ya are, how well ya wrestle, and how beautiful ya are. I already know all of that."

Your face gets all flustered as you listen to what Finn has to say. You let him finish before you say, "I wanted them to know how amazing you are, Finn. I wanted them to know that you're taking care of me while I'm thousands of miles away from them."

Your boyfriend climbs over the couch and stands in front of you. "I'm sure they know," Finn says. "If not, I'm sure they do now."

He engulfs you in a hug and you rest your head against Finn's chest. "I know," you sigh. "I'm just glad you're here and trying to help me."

"Fix ya," he reminds you.

You look up at Finn and say, "Yes, fix me." You give a small smile.

Finn says, "Woah, was that a smile? Wow, it's been a long time since I've seen that pretty thing."

Your face gets hot again and you say, "Finn, if you don't stop making me get all flustered."

He chuckles and says, "I'm sorry, mo ghra. Anyway, ya ready to head to the arena? We do have a job to do tonight."

Nodding, you grab your bag and your title. You grab your keys and leave your apartment with Finn.

#finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader #finn balor angst #finn balor fluff #wrestling imagine #wrestling angst #wrestling fluff #wwe imagine #wwe angst #wwe fluff #nxt imagine #nxt angst #nxt fluff #wrestler x reader #angst imagine #fluff imagine

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lucky4in · 4 years ago

Text

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

#neworleans #magic #voodoo #hurricane #Matriarch #tradition #fantasy #gumbo #raspberrypie #spirit #writethestory #writer #writting #piccadillyinc #originalpost

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