#and that’s because i ran out of ideas ^^;

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)

max verstappen x reader

pt. 1 here

I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it

It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.

He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.

You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.

Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.

I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.

Love, Your Max

Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.

You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.

"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.

"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.

"No, it's okay!"

"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.

"Wow."

"I know, I don't know what to do."

Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"

"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."

"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."

"So you think I should go?"

"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."

After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.

-----------------------------------

You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."

The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.

Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.

Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.

"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."

"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."

"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."

"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.

"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.

Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.

He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.

After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.

@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???

reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly

reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways

You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!

Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.

"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.

"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."

"How much longer until we know?"

"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"

"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.

Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.

"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."

You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.

"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."

You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.

Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.

"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.

"I'm in the one right next to you."

"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"

"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.

"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"

"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.

---------------------------------------

Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.

Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.

"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.

"The storms."

"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.

"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.

"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."

Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.

Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.

"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.

"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."

Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.

"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.

"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.

"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."

"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.

"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.

"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.

"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."

"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"

Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.

"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."

Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."

He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.

"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.

"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.

The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.

"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.

"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.

Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.

Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.

Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.

You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.

Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.

“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”

His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.

“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”

He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.

"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."

Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.

As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.

Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."

"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.

"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 12 - Next

"So we just have to wait a little longer... Here you go"

You were finishing explaining the situation to Curly while giving him his medicine, Anya was standing behind you grimacing in pain at the sounds the man made while swallowing.

Anya: "How is it that... Can you tolerate that?"

"What thing? The sounds? The burnt meat? The smell? The blood?"

You were mentioning while slowly and carefully removing the bandages from his body, the man trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to further discomfort the other woman present, but the bandages were almost stuck to his skin.

You were applying water little by little to be able to peel them off better, you had managed to get more drinkable water from the station, grateful for it since they had been without bathing or cleaning themselves to avoid wasting it for weeks now.

Anya: "Everything..."

"Well, I've been to many places, doing different jobs... I've gotten used to it."

When you saw the woman's horrified face, you realized how bad that sounded.

"I worked in morgues and crematoriums! Heavens... I didn't kill anyone."

Anya: "Seriously?"

"My dad owned a morgue and a crematorium, when I turned 18, he made me work, you have no idea how many times I had to clean my own vomit off the floor... or the corpses."

Immediately, she covered her mouth, almost vomiting at the thought of it, but you laughed at her reaction.

"That was exactly my reaction! I grew up with a strong stomach."

Anya: "How did you get here?"

You finished removing the bandages from the man, looking at his skin, you sighed knowing full well that you would have to clean it, pus was already forming in certain areas.

Anya, upon seeing that, had to turn around and hold her stomach, trying to think of something else.

"If you want to get into medical school, you have to watch this, no professor will have pity on you for having a sensitive stomach."

Anya: "I've already seen it without the bandages... But... Today they look extremely bad... I'm sorry..."

Upon saying that, she took a deep breath and turned back again, ready to help you clean her wounds.

"...I was in charge of the morgue in just a few years, and one day, while preparing bodies... I saw him, my father on the table in front of me, ready to be open and empty like any other corpse.. Three shots to the chest, some guys had robbed a store while he was in, he tried to be a hero defending the cashier, and they shot him. The thieves fled with nothing in their hands... I got depressed..."

You looked at Curly, who was watching you attentively while you told that story he already knew.

"I ran away from home... I started with drugs... and all kinds of things to get money... I went to my mother's house just to ask her for money or to eat something, I didn't care how much she begged me to stay... I just... I couldn't feel good again, and I was destroying myself to know that I was still alive."

Anya: "...How did you get out of that?"

"Because of this stubborn one"

You smiled at Curly, who soon looked away as if he weren't paying attention to what you were saying.

"He found me shoplifting in a store, and instead of turning me in, he bought the things I was taking and invited me for a coffee" you laughed, recalling that moment.

Anya: "Seriously?"

"Then he was looking for me all over the city."

Anya: "Did he want to see you again?"

"I stole his wallet."

You paused to laugh at the memory as well, before continuing with the story.

"But he insisted on keep meeting with me, on helping me, and I ended up falling for his kindness... I started living in his house, he was never around because of work, I got a job as a dog walker to have my own money while I was recovering, and he was always making sure I was okay... After years... Finally, I had the strength to see my mother again... And she felt relieved to see me well... Ugh, you have no idea the scene she made when she met Curly, so happy that i found a good man, I wanted the ground to swallow me up."

Anya: "That still doesn't tell me how you ended up as co-captain."

"...Five years ago... Curly recommended me, I did the physical and psychological exams, the training, and since I passed everything flawlessly, well... That's how I ended up here!"

You scratched your neck, smiling somewhat embarrassed that it wasn't a great story of how you became captain on your own; that was the plain truth of how you had ended up there.

You finished putting the upper bandage on Curly, ready to continue with the lower part.

Anya: "We're going to have to be careful with the catheter for this part."

Immediately, they heard Curly's complaints when they were about to remove the bandages from that part.

"Don't be like that, Curly! Anya was the one who has been changing your bandages, washing them, and put the catheter in for you; there's nothing wrong with her seeing you again."

Anya: "I think he doesn't want you to see him..."

She said a little embarrassed, you turned to look at Curly, speechless, not knowing what to say to him.

"Okay, no problem, I'm leaving."

You raised your hands to get up from your seat and leave that room. 

Anya: "You shouldn't feel ashamed, she'ss your wife after all, she'll see you again someday."

Curly shook his head slowly, he preferred that you see him again when he was recovered.

[reallyromealone]

Hi! Just sending in this ask before I forget my idea, dont answer this until your asks are open again I just want to write this down before I forget!! Boten x single father! male reader, reader works at a restaurant and Boten comes in one night and Mikey takes a liking to him, his daughter sits in the staff room and draws/plays because she’s too young to be home alone- 🦇 anon

Title: cute waiter

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: bonten

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, single dad reader, fluff, nameless daughter, Mikey has that weird ass rizz as the kids say

Notes:

Summary: bonten goes to a small restaurant while in town for business and Mikey falls for the cute waiter.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

(Name) Could never thank his boss enough for letting (daughters name) stay in the office, the elderly woman finding the toddlers company pleasant while she worked on scheduling and order's.

"(Name), could you cover booth three? I have to talk to (boss name) about the schedule" (name) looked to his co-worker who managed the hardest puppy eyes he could "fine, but you owe me"

"Thank you!"

(Name) Never knew what to expect at the small restaurant, typically it was the locals in the small town but sometimes some rich people came in and even foreigners which was a gamble on how the experience would go.

Usually they were nice though.

"Hello! Could I get you gentlemen started with water or perhaps the chef's choice of wine?" (Name) Said happily to the group who sized him up, the man in the middle just staring him down with cold blackened eyes but (name) just continued smiling and even making eye contact with them.

Blissfully unaware of who they were or what their tattoos meant.

"We will start with the finest wine you have" the white haired man with snake like eyes said simply, his rings shining under the warm lights "of course! I will be back momentarily with your wine, gentlemen" and with that (name) turned and left, bonten not missing Mikey's curious look and the lock on to the waiters ass. They all exchanged glances while their boss just ate his snacks, flipping to the dessert menu to see they had the good stuff.

(Name) Returned moments later and filled their glasses, Mikey freezing when the waiter got close to him and the white haired man could smell the others cologne faintly and nearly shoved his face into the poor man's neck if it wasn't for his self control "so tell us about yourself, Mr waiter ~" ran was going to do his boss a favor, knowing Mikey had the romantic abilities of a snail. "Ah, what would you like to know?" (Name) Was so easy going, care free "you in school?" "You single?" "You know how to bake?"

(Name) Was a bit startled by the questions but didn't see the harm "I'm not, I graduated last year, I am single and I do know how to bake, yes" (name) laughed a bit at the questions "now, what can I get you gentlemen?" Changing the topic to get to business and not have these attractive men ask every detail of his life.

Of course they ordered the nicest things on the menu, it was going to be a pricy bill no doubt but (name) wasted no time getting their order before his coworker took over his table for his break and hang out with his tot. (Name) Brought in dinner for the two, free food from the restaurant and (daughters name) got cute rice balls shaped like hearts and for dessert she got taiyaki shaped like stars and filled with custard.

"Wow you drew this?" (Name) Cheered on his kid who beamed, the owner who became their grandmother of sorts always splurged on the good coloring supplies for the little girl and finding some cute toys for the office so she's never bored.

"Why don't we show the team, yeah?" (Name) Asked the little one who bounced a little, clearly happy at the idea "let's go!" Holding his little girls hand, the restaurant was nearly dead save for the group of eight who were furious that (name) was changed out for another person but Mikeys anger quickly melted when he saw the tiny version of (name) waddle towards the elderly owner who was rolling cutlery.

"My!" She cooed and lifted the little girl up "you're so talented!"

Mikey and (name) locked eyes, the waiter offering a sweet smile and Mikey's face dusted red, (name) didn't miss the stares and the blushes on the pale man, knowing damn well the awkward blond thought he was attractive "you enjoy your meal?" (Name) Asked him casually, the blond composing himself "yeah..." His words simply and short, never the one for small talk "that your kid?"

"Ah, yeah... She's too young to be alone and my boss practically helped raise me as a teen so she just hangs here"

Mikey nodded and looked over (name) who caught his stare "would you like to go out sometime?" (Name) Thought the blond was cute, even if he barely spoke and just stared ominously.

Mikey froze, usually it was him doing that "you don't know who we are, do you?"

"...models...?" (Name) Said confused, unsure of his answer and Mikey just stared back at the man "what? Used to people not recognizing you?"

"Something like that"

"Well I hope to get to know you better, I have to get my rugrat in for her nap but I'll be back soon yeah"

Mikey never felt so complacent, nodding and even letting (name) kiss his cheek gently before going to get his daughter.

[michaela-o]

Hi hello everyone :D🧡

So a while back i made a post about Cybertronians witnessing humans being feral when in fight or flight response or how humans act when we are on adrenaline in general because i really like this idea. But hear me out- :D

Protective, scared and angry human = very scary human

We all have this natural need and drive inside us to protect. Wether it's the person we love, family or friends. I myself am very protective when it comes to anyone i love. I would throw myself in front of a bear if i had to. Or i would fight anything and anyone if i had to protect the people i love.

Now imagine if the human was the size as an average cybertronian: (slight warning for blood at the end)

The Lost Light got under attack by the infamous DJD and everything goes to shit so quickly no one has time to react as the deadly members tear through the ship and with Tarn having one goal in mind and that was to find Megatron. His optics burning with lust for killing him. Eventually he finds him and they both fight together. The human is watching this from the security office locked in with other members of the Lost Light. They all watch in horror and worry as they both fight. But Tarn doesn't play fair. As Megatron gets knocked by him the other bots notice as the human's breath quickens, their frame is shaking a bit and their teeth are tightly gritted together. Their protective drive has woken up.

Enough is enough..

You know what Megatron did..but no one has the right to take away someone else's life..especially someone like Tarn...Megatron was almost like the father the human claimed to never have..

As the human turns swiftly to unlock the door the other bots try to stop them but the human is determined and full of anger and adrenaline as they push past the bots who are taken aback. The bots are not fast enough as the human is already sprinting towards the scene where everything was happening. So many thoughts and emotions ran through them as they sprinted..anger, fear (you know because it's still fucking Tarn)

But no they aren't backing away now.

As they round a corner they barely make it in time because Tarn was already aiming his canon at Megatron.

The human suddenly jumps in front of Tarn and they srunch their nose and bare their teeth at him, their arms spread over Megatron. Tarn stares in disbelief and then he chuckles. You may be the size of a cybertronian but you're still a fragile dumb human.

"If you want him..you're gonna have to go through me first.."

As the human growled no one wanted and couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing back at the security room on the cameras. Thats it the human has gotten crazy. NO ONE would do a thing like this. It's like you were asking to be killed. It's the DJD.. Even Megatron's expression almost changed to bewildered and wide eyed.

Of course the human got a good beating from Tarn but there was just something in them. This weird wild look in their eyes as blood dripped down their forehead into their eye and down their chin. Scratched and battered with at least 4 broken ribs they still stood with determination. Tarn was enjoying this but it was getting frustrating and on his nerves. Tarn is deadly and strong but the human was agile and quick. As Tarn was about to finish Megatron once again (because he thought the human was finished) they once again threw themeselves in front of him with this crazy look in their eyes and the next words rang out in everybody's ears.

"Over, my, dead body..."

The human was shaking, growling and huffing slowly loosing their strenght but reinforcements were quickly arriving and the DJD was in disadvantage so they had to fall back but of course Tarn would be back and would take the human with him the next time.

And this is how i think bots view this :3

From the cybertronian perspective:

The bots, often more concerned with survival and the war’s toll on their world i think would most likely react with shock. Tarn is a fanatic Decepticon who enforces ideology without mercy, would represent the last person they’d expect a human to stand against. They might interpret the human's bravery as foolhardy or even reckless, given Tarn’s terrifying reputation, but they may also see it as a powerful symbol that courage and conviction can transcend size and power.

From Tarn's Perspective:

I think Tarn, who worships Megatron’s original vision and detests any deviation from it, would be utterly incensed. The idea of a human—whom he views as nothing more than an insect—intervening to protect Megatron would enrage him. He’d view it as an ultimate insult to Megatron's legacy and to the Decepticon cause, likely intensifying his resolve to destroy them both to "cleanse" this offense.

Aaaa i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i did writing :3🧡 here i also drew a picture of the human so you could imagine the whole scenario better :3

[luimagines]

The Legendary Mermaid

Another commission!

They asked for a Legend and Reader where mermaids are involved. I'd explain more but I don't want to spoil it. XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Link didn’t think much of you at first. You were clumsy. Uncoordinated. One of the most ungraceful beings he has ever had the… um... pleasure to meet.

You spoke in broken Hylian but he could understand you well enough. When he stumbled into you on the beach he tried to go through the number of languages that he knew were native to the area but none of them seemed to click with you.

You were excitable and wobbly. You looked straight out of a ship wreck so you could have been from anywhere.

Still- Link wasn’t about to abandon you when you clearly had no idea where you were.

He took you into his village, set you up with a place to stay with some helpful neighbors and thought that his duty of care was done. He was wrong.

Turns out! You had a habit of running off in the middle of the day and going off to who knows where. The first time it happened, poor Gulley was in a tizzy trying not to panic because he thought you were just really good at hide and seek and he didn’t want you to miss dinner.But he couldn’t find you anywhere.

More people got involved.

They still had no idea where you went. Hours passed and the sun went down but no one had a clue where their strange and sudden visitor could have gone off to.

Link suddenly had the terrible thought that maybe you went off into the lake and something terrible happened. He ran as fast as he could but his panic happened to be unfounded.

You were there, soaking wet but otherwise unharmed, playing a small hermit crab that had somehow made it out of the water.

Link had half the mind to scold you, but your innocent giggles at the tiny creature had enough incentive to get him to calm down first. He bought you back where many of the aunties and elders fussed over you before giving you a warm bowl of soup and tucking you away for the night.

Your galavanting happened at least every other day. It didn’t take long for Link to realize that everytime you went missing, you were actually just by some body of water. 

He thought that maybe you just had a childish way of exploring. Or maybe you just liked to splash and swim. He wasn’t one to judge. He just wished you told people where you were going and when you planned to be back so no one would worry about you.

When you decided to stay in the village and interact with other humans for a change, you were like a fish out of water. 

You crashed into walls. You tripped over your own two feet. You would lose your balance at the oddest of times.

“Whoa!” Link caught you the arm before you could fall over and land face first into a pile of mud. “You know… You walk like a newborn deer.”

“What is deer?” You ask on impulse.

Link pauses and gives you a questioning look but decides to keep his judgment silent. Maybe there’s just no deer where you’re from. Somehow. Which would be strange considering how popular they are. Then again, you’ve never mentioned how you got to where they are or where you grew up. It seemed to be the only topic you actively avoided talking about.

“An animal.” Link says instead. “They have skinny legs and they begin walking on the day they’re born. The males have horns on their heads.”

“....Do they shine? Many colors?” You ask with a hopeful expression on your face.

Link hates to be the bearer of bad news, but he finds that he can’t lie to you. “Not really. They hide a lot so they look like golden grass and dried leaves.”

“Grass.” You stand up straighter, still holding onto his arm. “...Hm…”

Link has no idea how to respond to that.

“Yes.” He tries anyway. “They’re actually quite big once they’re fully grown. They’re majestic creatures.”

“Magic?” You tilt your head.

“No magic.” He shakes his head. “ Ma-ges-tic.”

“...Oh.” 

Is he going crazy or do you sound disappointed? Link swallows the spit in his throat, not sure why he feels the need to not only make you feel better, but to also impress you. “Most animals can’t do magic but they’re still very impressive. You know- if you want, we can always go into the forest and look for them. How’s that sound?”

You smile, but it doesn’t seem to reach your eyes.

Link feels his heart bob. He’s not sure if he’s doing this right. “Maybe tomorrow, yeah? After I’m done with my work in the forge, I’ll come look for you and we can go explore some more.”

Your eyes light up a little more genuinely and you nod enthusiastically to boot.

Link feels better about this suddenly.

Until tomorrow rolls around and you’re once again nowhere to be found.

Link wants to ram his head into the nearest wall. How could he forget? It was a ‘Go for a Swim Day’ today. It was part of your pattern. Did he just forget all his senses suddenly?

Groaning for the extra mileage he has to walk, he heads home first to collect some stuff for the journey. Surely you would be hungry at some point, right? Maybe he can make it a picnic too. There’s a nice spot that overlooks the valley that he knows of. You seem to be the type of person who enjoys the simple things his home has to offer.

Not only that but you seem rather focused on finding magical items. Or at least you try to find something magical in every nook and cranny. …He has a few magical items. That can impress you! He packs his magic mirror, his fire arrows and his mermaid tail. You’ll probably find a river or pond that you’d want to jump in. Since you love to swim so much, maybe he’ll join you just this once and show off a bit. Surely you’ve never seen anything like it.

Once he has everything set, he checks the nearby creek first- hoping you didn’t decide to splash around and find out.

Nothing.

Not a stone unturned and not a single piece of evidence that anyone had been here earlier. 

Link groans louder and turns on his heel to head down to the lake instead. He knows he’s being dramatic, but you’re not around to witness his pettiness, so he’s at liberty to do what he wants.

His feet are aching by the time he finally makes it to the lake. He kicks off his shoes to walk along the warm sandband before he begins his search anew. There’s not much that he thinks he has to look for. A bag? Some footprints? A discarded shirt or something? Your shoes by the side of the bank?

He finds… nothing.

“Where are you?” Link growls and flops onto the dirt. He pouts and puts his cheeks in his palms as he tries to think about what to do next. There goes his plans for the afternoon. And probably well into the evening at that. 

Link can’t help the sinking feeling of disappointment in his chest at the thought of being stood up. Not this was any big deal or anything- but he didn’t realize how much he was actually looking forward to this moment until he couldn’t have it.

Well.. He’s at the lake anyway. And he has the mermaid tail. He’ll get something for you. He can dive to the bottom of the lake and find something cool for you!

Link shimmies the tail on without a second thought and crawls into the water. The magic takes effect at once. He takes his first deep breath and pushes himself further into the cold. He feels his legs become intertwined with his item. The cold loses the sting the further he goes and although it takes a bit longer for his brain to adjust than he’d like, Link is quickly swimming deeper and deeper to where no other Hylian has gone before.

His eyes take longer to adjust. Considering he’s more worried about not forgetting that he can now breathe underwater, he’s still to ignore that little tidbit. All he has to do is swim straight down anyway.

Something moves to his left.

Link stops dead in his tracks.

“What?” He blurts. The sound he makes is warbled, broken as it always is when he tries to speak underwater.

In a split second, the figure blasts in front of him, sending him back a few feet. He brings up his arms to block any unwanted water from going up his nose and growls.

You poke his arm two seconds later.

“AH!” He screams without meaning to.

You seem just as perplexed and confused. You tilt your head and swim back just enough so that you can see him in his entirety. “Link?”

Your voice has changed too, but not quite like his does when he’s in this form. Your voice is clear as crystal and he can physically feel the waves it produces as they curl around his ears and his body.

He repeats your name with the same shocked reverence.

You break out into excited chitters and clicks, sounds he’s never heard before poke all around his body and he thinks he can feel the very effect they have on his brain.

You swim back over to him and twirl him around in earnest. You look delighted to see him here.

Link takes the moment to also look you over.

A mermaid.

He flushes when he sees more than he’s bargained for. Of course. What purpose do clothes serve to a mermaid?

You swim circles around him. The movement is graceful and borderline poetic, nothing like the way you move on land. Your tail was glittery and bejeweled with colors he hadn’t known could sparkle in the low light of the lake water. It trailed after you like a silk scarf or a skilled ribbon dancer.

He was staring.

You seemed to have caught on quickly that he was enthralled by your body. A part of you wonders why. Another feels the need to be embarrassed. You’ve dressed in the way of the finless for so long that you’ve almost adopted their shameful thinking to cover up one's form. The third and final part of you actually likes his attention. He’s impressed. Enamored, almost. This is the part of you that wins.

Smirking, you decide to metaphorically test the waters and dance around him some more, brushing your tail against his and pulling him this way and that with your dance alone. You swim away for just a second, wanting to play some more with the strange boy that can be of both worlds.

Link jolts out of the trance you’ve put him in and skips to follow you.

You laugh.

His breath catches in his throat at the sound of subtle trills and chirps. Link freezes completely in his spot. Your laugh tickles him even as he begins to sink from the lack of movement once more.

“You swim worse than a guppy.”

Link falters and the ethereal moment for him is shattered in an instant.

“Hey!” He says instead.

You laugh again, sending more pins and needles over his skin and tail and begin to swim laps around him, clearly showing off your superior swimming agility. You play with him some more, poking and annoying him but swimming away before he can retaliate and poke you back.

The game catches on from there.

Link is, unfortunately, in over his head and he has to admit proverbial defeat minutes into it. It doesn’t stop him from playing anyway. This is arguably the most free he’s ever seen you and he’s not about to ruin it anymore than his lack of grace does on its own.

It’s nice.

[themoonhauntedmyillusionss]

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨��� 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟎, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.6𝒌

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙸'���� 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙲𝚄 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.

𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝.

Baby, am I your little secret?

I’m old enough to keep it

“Y/N! Hurry up, please. Wanda is waiting for us!” You groaned as your mother yelled from the living room. You were fully aware there was absolutely no need for you to take so long to get ready; your mom’s best friend had invited you both to her house since her boys were at their father’s for the week. Your mom had politely asked you to cancel any plans you had with your friends since she believed her friend needed some company because of the messy divorce she was currently going through. You had pretended to huff and puff while trying to convince your mother to go over Wanda’s alone, but she had (luckily) insisted for you to go as well, which made you extremely happy due to the fact that you had an embarrassingly huge crush on the woman since you and your mother had come out of hiding.

It had been two years since the two of you had finally been able to come back to your birthplace. You had spent most of your life in hiding, and your mother had never fully explained to you why you had to go into hiding in the first place. The only thing you were aware of was that it had something to do with her job, which, again, you had no specific idea of what it was. You had met, in the last two years, her coworkers, but none of them had ever said a word about the job; not even Wanda had told you, and you had no idea why. 

You had once heard a conversation between your mother and Tony, which was somewhat their boss from what you had gathered so far, but they were just talking about how much your mother was lucky that you had never seen or heard anything about what had happened before the two of you got into hiding, but you had no idea from whom you should’ve heard something since no one was even willing to talk to you about it. 

Anyhow, you were now trying to look as good as possible to go over to Wanda’s, not that the redhead would even notice; sure, she was nice, but she was also your mom’s best friend, so she obviously saw you as her own daughter from the moment she reconciled with the both of you after 16 years. Wanda would probably make a comment about how you looked nice, grown up, or even like a lady, but she would never look at you as you wished she would. Sighing at your own thoughts, you ran your fingers through your hair, trying not to make them look as curly as the iron had made them. You didn’t want your mother to notice you had tried to look beautiful for an easy dinner as that was going to be. You ran down the stairs, grabbing your coat, and you saw your mother waiting impatiently at the door. You rolled your eyes at her behavior, and then you smiled happily.

“So, are we going?” You asked as your mother looked at you incredulously, almost giving you a piece of her mind because of how long she had to wait for you; you didn’t give her a chance though; you just opened the door in front of the two of you and went outside. Your mother followed you, sighing. You held your purse closer to your face as you roamed your hands inside. After a few seconds you took out of your bag your pack of cigarettes, and you brought one to your mouth, lighting it up.

“Care to tell me why on earth it took you so long to get ready? It’s not even like we’re going to some fancy dinner or place.” Your mother didn’t even bother to scold you for smoking; she was as sure as heck against it. The two of you had fought for almost as long as you had been smoking, even if you were in hiding when you started. She knew those years were difficult for you; you had no one to talk to beside her, you had no friends, you couldn’t make friends, you never went to school. Your mother had taught you everything you knew, which was everything she knew, everything she had ever learned, from talking to reading and writing. She tried to teach you as many school subjects as she could; she taught you grammar, math, history, and geography. The one thing your mother sure as hell knew and taught you perfectly were foreign languages; you had no idea how or when she had learned them, but she managed to teach you French, German, Russian, Chinese, Italian, and Latin.

“I did not take long to get ready; I just didn’t want to come.” You replied, taking a puff and smiling to yourself. Your mother had absolutely no idea you would have spent even more time to get ready to see Wanda, if only you could’ve been sure she would never get suspicious about it. You got in your seat and you fastened your seatbelt; your mother drove off while you rolled down the window. 

“Y/N, it’s freezing outside.” It was the same argument your mother made every time to guilt-trip you into stopping your addiction to those cigarettes she hated so much. Not once did she actually manage to make you stop, but that never stopped her from trying. “So, Tony managed to find a way for you to take those exams we talked about.”

“He did?” You basically screamed and jumped in your seat. Your mother and Tony had been trying to find a way for you to actually not having to go through all those school years you had missed. You knew Tony was extremely rich and powerful, but yet you had no idea how he had managed to do such a thing. His plan was for you to take an exam for each subject that was considered necessary for basic knowledge and for the college you wanted to go to. When Stak first talked to you about his idea, you immediately refused. You had no idea how you were supposed to study for an exam; you had no idea what schools usually expected for exams; you weren’t even sure you knew enough stuff to pass it. Your mother, on the other hand, was enthusiastic with the plan; she was so sure she had taught you everything you were supposed to know; she even stated that you knew more than most of the population of the US, but still you weren’t sure. 

Of course it was Wanda the one to change your mind; she made sure to plan out some mock exams for you, she made sure you were taught how to properly study, and she assisted you in everything you possibly needed. Your mother helped her do everything, of course, but it was her approval and her faith in you that made you a bit more confident in what you were capable of. 

“Solnyshko, you are perfectly capable of passing every exam they could put you through. I’m already sure you are, but if you don’t have that much faith in yourself yet, I will make sure you find out how brilliant you are.”

And just like that, you called Tony yourself, and you asked him to do everything he could to let you take those exams.

“He’s Tony; of course he did.” Your mother smiled at you; you could see how she warmed up as soon as she saw how happy the news made you. You were so lucky to have her; despite your arguments, the two of you were everything you both needed to carry on; she made sure you knew that from the very moment you took your first breath alongside her. You knew the bond the two of you had was the strongest thing in the world. Even if during those years in hiding you suffered, and you were positive your mother suffered as well, probably more than you, she always made sure to let you know you were loved. She always reminded you of all those people who rescued you when you were a baby, who saw you take your first steps and cheered with her when you called her "Mom" for the first time. In those 16 years, she never once let a single doubt about how much you were loved even cross your mind; she made sure you had everything you ever needed, even if it meant sneaking into shops, bars, or movies. You were extremely grateful she was the one to choose to keep you when they rescued you; you didn’t even care if you had had to spend all those years locked away from the rest of the world because you had the most caring, strong, and important person with you all the way. “What are you thinking about?” Your mother asked, looking at you curiously; lately she had a hard time figuring out what was going through your head. When the two of you came back to your birthplace and finally managed to live a normal life, your mother knew that a lot of things were about to change. She knew you were going to start questioning a lot of things, that you were going to figure out a lot of stuff that you didn’t even know existed before, and most of all, she knew that all those fights the two of you didn’t have during your teenage years were going to happen all at once. She was ready for that; what she wasn't ready for was for her not to be able to understand you anymore.

“I love you, mom.” You blurted out without even thinking; it had been quite a while since you had said it out loud, and now you were regretting waiting so much to tell her because she was your whole world still, and you needed to remind her of that. You needed to remind her that no matter what had changed or what could still change, no matter what happened in the world or around you, nothing was ever going to break your special bond. You kissed her on the cheek before looking out the window. “Oh, we’re here. I was so caught up in my own thoughts I hadn't noticed.” You smiled at your mother before getting out of the car. 

As soon as you shut the door, you heard the gate behind you squeak. You immediately turned around to find yourself in front of the woman of your current dreams. Her long, wavy red hair was let loose and was framing her face as if she were a portrait. Her green eyes were soft and kind, as you had always seen them; her smile was genuine, not as happy as you’d wished it was, but she was getting there; you knew it. She was wearing a pink minidress, which seemed more of a combined blouse and skirt, with a pair of not-so-high heels. She looked immensely beautiful, and you would’ve told her so if it weren’t for the tiny fact that she was 34 years old and you were 20, she was your mother’s best friend and coworker, and she was straight, recently divorced, and a mother of two. 

Just your average-looking relationship.

As you approached Wanda, her smile widened, and yours did too. She opened her arms in your direction, waiting for you to fall into her embrace, just like you always had done. She obviously had no idea the reason why you loved her hugs so much. She had no idea you loved feeling so close to her; you knew it was the only way you had to feel it. She had no idea you loved her perfume—the one you were so obsessed with, the one that was all her. Most of all, she had no idea if it were for you; the embrace would last forever. 

“Oh, how are you, detka?" The redhead asked you, and you shivered hearing her accent. You briefly wondered if she could feel it too, but you tried to shake those doubts off because you knew you couldn’t get too lost in your thoughts when you were with her; it was like she could hear them, as if she had a gift.

“She’s stubborn as always, Wanda. Can you believe she took more than an hour to get ready just because she had wanted to do something with her friends instead?” You heard your mother’s voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes as you took a step back from your heaven. You felt guilty for letting Wanda think you didn’t want to come, to let her think you would put anyone before her, when she was the only thing you could ever think about, from the very moment you opened your eyes in the morning until you fell asleep. Even then, more often than not, you would dream about her. 

“You should stop putting your daughter in awkward situations, Nat; I’ve told you this before. Anyway, I can totally believe she took more than an hour to get ready. Ty vyglyadish' prekrasno, sulnyshko.” You looked up from the very interesting spot you had found on the ground, and you stared into those beautiful green eyes. Wanda was smiling at you, and you had no idea what she had told you; her dialect always reminded you of Russian, but you knew she was Sokovian, and you didn’t know a single Sokovian word. You knew she was talking to you because you recognized the pet name she had started calling you as soon as you and your mother had come back. Sulnyshko meant sunshine, or little sun, which was the literal translation and also the one you preferred. She always called you that, and each time you blushed heavily, you could feel the warmth reach your ears, and you knew she noticed it every time too, because after feeling your face and ears get warm, you’d notice her smile widening. 

“Shall we get inside?” Wanda asked, her gaze shifting from looking closely at your reaction to looking at your mother and gesturing for the both of you to get inside. Your mother nodded, and the three of you entered her house. It was warmer than you had expected; you didn’t know if it was because the redhead knew you would be there or because she was getting better at taking care of herself and not basically almost freezing herself to death.

You knocked on the door; you knew you shouldn’t be there, but your mother had just finished telling you that the day before she had gone to Wanda’s, she had found the woman curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen, which had been off. 

You were worried; you knew she hadn’t invited you to her house, but you needed to see her; you needed to know she was at least managing. You had no idea why the joint custody of the boys seemed to be a problem; it was one of the many topics no one seemed to want to explain to you. The only thing you knew was that Vision might get full custody, and you were sure Wanda was not taking it well.

It had been some minutes and no one had answered the door. You didn’t know if you needed to be relieved, if maybe she went somewhere with her children, or if you had to be even more worried than you already were. You tried knocking again. 

The door swung open in front of you, and you found yourself looking at the woman you loved had a huge crush on; she seemed angry, stressed, and sad all at once. 

“If I’m not answering, maybe I don’t want to be bo - Malyshka. Hi, what are you doing here?” She stopped her yelling as soon as her eyes landed on you. You wanted to disappear from her porch cursing yourself for bothering her, but she was now looking at you with so much love and affection that you couldn't do anything else than hug her. 

She didn’t hug you back immediately; you felt her body stiffen at first, but slowly you felt her arms circle your figure and her own loosen up; you almost felt as if you needed to support her before she fell to the ground. 

You hugged for what felt like hours, days even, but you didn’t let go; you never would’ve. 

“May I come in? I was worried about you, to be honest.” You mumbled into her shoulder; you heard her sigh, she didn’t like to be rescued. Wanda let go of your body and gestured for you to get inside. You gave her an apologetic smile as you stepped into her house. As soon as Wanda closed the door, the slight warmth coming from the sun was gone, and you found yourself in a freezing room. 

“Do you want some tea? Or coffee?” The redhead asked you, acting as if nothing was off, as if her house couldn't compete with Santa Clause’s; but you were there to make her feel better, and you were going to do just that. 

“Let me take care of that; is that okay? Maybe you could wait in the living room or on the couch, whatever you prefer.” You smiled at her as she nodded; she went off to the couch, and you went to the kitchen, starting on making some tea. As you wandered around the kitchen looking into the cabinets to find something to eat along with the tea, you decided to just bake some cookies. Wanda had not much to eat. 

You added that to the list of things to worry about, and you started to make the dough. You were so lost in cooking that when you turned around and found Wanda sitting at the counter, you jumped and almost screamed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just didn’t want to be alone on the couch knowing you are here,” the redhead explained to you, and you smiled at her. You took her hands in yours and nodded. You then turned around once again and grabbed two mugs. You poured some water into them and placed Earl Gray in her mug and orange cinnamon in yours.  

You took your seat beside her and waited for the tea to cool off a bit. You noticed Wanda was grabbing the mug tightly, as if she were trying to warm herself up; you wondered why she wasn’t turning on the heat if she was cold. 

“I was wondering... do you mind if I turn on the heat just a little bit? I don’t know about you, but I would love it a bit warmer in here.” You tried it this way; maybe if you made it about you and not about her, she wouldn’t feel like you were trying to help her or rescue her and would agree with you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, it didn’t occur to me you might find it cold in here. I’m used to it; I don’t usually feel that cold, but if you want, I can turn it up for you.” You nodded gratefully and smiled victoriously as you watched her make her way to the thermostat. She was soon back at your side, and you both drank the tea in silence. You looked at her from time to time, but she was always looking down into her mug, as if she had found something interesting inside.

When you were both finished with it, you grabbed the mugs and washed them. You looked at the time and noticed the cookies still needed 20 more minutes. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome, but you wanted to make sure she was going to eat something. Conflicted, you tried to make a good impression anyway. 

“Can I leave the cookies to your care? I think-” Wanda didn’t let you finish your sentence; she grabbed your hand as she noticed you rising once again from the chair, only this time there were no mugs to wash. You looked at her concerned and found her eyes looking at you hopeful. 

“Can you stay some more time? I don’t feel like being alone, and I really enjoy your company.” Her lip was quivering, you didn’t want her to cry; she probably wouldn't have done it anyway, not in front of you. In that moment, you had to take complete control of yourself and try not to stare at her lips when she needed you. 

You erased the distance there was between the two of you and hugged her once again; she immediately responded to the embrace this time, hugging you tightly. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The dinner was pleasant, not that you ever had any doubt about it. Wanda was an amazing hostess, and your mother had always been amazing to spend time with. You had tried once again to ask them how they met; they both rolled their eyes at you, and while your mother laughed at you for never giving up, Wanda smiled at you apologetically. You were sure she wanted to tell you something—anything of the things they were all keeping you out of—but probably they had made her swear she wouldn’t.

You had noticed Wanda was restless that evening; she kept looking at you and then looking away, like you burned her with your gaze. She often blushed, and you had no idea why; she even had to pop a button of her dress or two open, but you didn’t even have time to fully appreciate her beauty that she buttoned up again, in a rush. The redhead kept blushing, she kept fidgeting in her seat, she was always moving; even your mother noticed and asked her if everything was okay. Wanda just nodded and told her she was hot, brushing it off as nothing. You just didn’t believe her; something was off, and you had no idea what that could be. 

Every time your mother and her friend talked about things only the two of them could understand, your mind trailed off, wandering to places and universes in which you and Wanda were together, in which you could admire her in all her beauty. You wished you really could see all of her; you wished you could kiss her every day, multiple times a day; you wished you could kiss every part of her; you wished she would kiss you too. 

You had recently found out about certain things you had not known before, the way one can enjoy a bit of pain during the pleasure, and the way sometimes it enhances the pleasure itself. So, each time Wanda would use her hands while talking, you would picture those hands gently closing around your throat while she soothes you but also pleasures you.

Your mind was so far gone during that dinner, and you were glad neither your mother nor Wanda noticed anything, except for when Wanda would occasionally look at you with those big green eyes, which seemed bigger than usual, just when you were thinking about things extremely explicitly. So then you felt guilty for thinking about such things involving her. 

“So, since it has been two weeks, do you have any news for us?” Your mother asked her friend, and you wanted to curse at her. You knew what she wanted to know; she was waiting for Wanda to tell you how her week with her children was, if she had seen Vision, and if they had talked. You were worried Wanda just wasn’t ready to talk about it, and, also, you really didn’t want to know anything about the sperm donor. 

Your internal cursing at your mother and Vision was interrupted by the sweetest laugh you had ever heard. Wanda was looking at you, and she was genuinely laughing. You had no idea why; you hadn’t talked or, wait...

“Did I say that out loud?” You asked extremely embarrassed; you were now sure that all those efforts not to make your mother or Wanda suspicious about your feelings towards the redhead were now useless. How could you have been so stupid to—

“No, lisichka, I think Wanda here is being a little silly, isn’t she?” You knew very well that tone; your mother was warning Wanda, and you had no idea why, but you didn’t like it. Whatever was the reason that made the redhead laugh was okay; she was laughing, and there was nothing more beautiful in the whole world. You wished to be able to hear her laughter every day, to be the one to make her laugh, to be able to laugh with her. You wanted to be able to sneak up to her, tickle her, and watch her squirm against your fingers—

“I- I think I need to go check on the dessert; excuse me for a moment.” The redhead unwillingly interrupted you again. You noticed her blush a little before she made her way to the kitchen; you were now confused. You had expected for her to feel either intimidated by your mother or angry at her tone; you had not expected for her to blush and hide away. Your mother excused herself as well, saying she needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and took that opportunity to stand up and follow Wanda to the kitchen, already planning to use as an excuse the fact that you wanted to see if she needed help.

As you entered the kitchen, you stopped your steps to look at the woman in front of you. She was leaning against the counter, both hands gripping onto it; she looked just beautiful. You got closer and you caught a glimpse of her legs, so smooth and long, and you lost yourself in your thoughts. The way you wanted to kiss them so badly—to touch them, caress them, feel them tremble against—

“You need to stop.” Her voice was trembling; you had no idea what she was talking about. She still wasn’t facing you, but you could see her whole body quivering, and for a moment you were worried she was hurt, that maybe she hurt herself in some way, so you made your way to her. As you got closer, her grip on the counter tightened, and her breath got more labored. “The things you do to me, with your stares, your looks. You have no idea of the way you look at me, like you want to devour me. And then your thoughts... I just-”

 “My what?” You were now looking at the woman confused; why was she walking about your thoughts? Sure, you always thought it was weird for her to always know what you were thinking about, but you always assumed it was because she knew you better than most people. Wanda turned around; she was now facing you; her eyes were dark, darker than you had ever seen them, and she was looking at you intensely. She started to walk towards you; she was merely inches away. You could feel her breath on your face, and you wanted to feel her even closer. She closed her eyes, and as she opened them again, everything was gone. You heard your mother walk close by and Wanda walking away.  

“I burned the dessert, I’m so sorry. Nat, I think it’s better for the two of you to go now. I’m sorry. I just need some time alone; I feel tired right now.”

And just like that, you and your mother were on your way home; Wanda had not said goodbye to you the way she used to. She didn’t hug you, and you missed it. She didn’t kiss your cheek, and you missed the feeling of her lips against your skin. The redhead didn’t even explain to you what was happening before your mother came into the kitchen. You had no idea what you had done, but something had changed.

[rebouks]

Invictus: Author's Note

Now that we've all survived the horrors, I figured I'd do a bit of a commentary on Robin's nightmare below the cut...

I guess the central themes we were going for within Robin's dream were threefold; the fact that he feels lonely/alone with the burden of his gift, that he's worried about Alex, and that his friends (and some other's) are annoying/confusing him, so let's break that down to begin with.

Robin was always destined to be the last one alive, mostly to compound his feelings of desolation, but also because planning/executing various endings would've taken way longer than 2-3 months to plan on my own 😅 He doesn't dare tell anyone about his abilities due to the fear of being judged or ostracised and I don't blame him. Most people wouldn't believe him, and those that might would probably avoid him or at least act differently around him even if they supported him; he's also paranoid that if a medical professional found out, they'd want to study him or god knows what else, hence the scepticism from the group when he told them (in the nightmare) and his twisted view of Doctor Abbott (who's actually a perfectly lovely psychologist in the waking world).

Alex hasn't written for over six months at this point and Robin doesn't know why; it's not as if they've slowly been losing touch over time with less and less communication either, her letters stopped without warning! Half of him expects there to be a reasonable explanation, but he can't help worrying. Clearly his subconscious mind ran away with all that concern...

Robin's classmates personalities were spot on (thanks to Robin's gift) but slightly exaggerated since each one of them is a proverbial thorn in Robin's side at the moment.

Levi: Extra impulsive, standoffish and contradictory within Robin's dream, I think it's fairly obvious Robin's still pissed at his friend. I toyed with the idea of Robin being the only one to make decisions that we could vote on, but thought the loss of control he'd feel from not being able to stop bad outcomes from happening off the back of other people's choices was far more apt. Levi continues to tread a questionable path irl and Robin can't stop him.. if only he'd just apologise!

Penny: Robin strongly dislikes Penny, hence her being super annoying.. not that she's much better in the waking world! If the psychic doesn't rate someone, I'd say it's a pretty safe bet they're not such a great person.. I'm sure he wishes his friend wasn't so into her 💀

Aster: I think the fact that Aster's stood up for Robin twice now had a big impact on how he acted; he tried to keep the peace where he could and was the only one who supported Robin after he'd told the group about his gift. Robin doesn't know him very well outside of his dream though, so some of this could just be a projection based on what little evidence he has 🤷‍♀️

Jacob: Robin's a bit annoyed/put off by Jacob right now.. he barely spends any time with him and Jude anymore and as they've gotten older, their personalities appear to be veering in different directions. He's volatile, haughty and obsessed with girls, hence his distrust toward Robin after the revelation of his gift and his less-than-stellar treatment of Tess.

Tess: Tess goes where Jacob goes, simple! Though Robin feels bad for her because he knows that she's way more into Jacob than he is and he's not faithful; that's why he so obviously dismisses his own girlfriend within the dream. In the waking world he's much more convincing, but Robin knows better.

What the hell was "x" about?

The dolls - they were usually found pointing toward danger and/or bad decisions, but did we listen? NOPE! Instead we chose to vilify them 😩

The Lab - this was actually a warped version of the seed vault/hydroponic garden Robin, Wren & Oscar explored in Granite Falls. That's why the retina detection system recognised him, 'cause he has technically been there before. I'm not a professional, so don't quote me on this, but apparently our minds can't conjure up people/places/things from nothing, so what we usually see in our dreams is stuff we've seen before or an amalgamation of various things mashed together, even if we don't actively remember them.

The Asylum - Sunnyside Asylum is a real place Robin read about on a late night internet delve down a rabbit hole (don't judge him, we've all done it) he just forgot he'd read about it or seen it before 🤷‍♀️

The butterflies - they're Alex's favourite animals (along with the humble moth!) so Robin thought they were leading him to her, but they were not ;-;

"So, I suppose you know-..." - what was Aster going to say!? Aster was about to assume that Robin knows he has a crush on him, and he'd be correct! Robin never really picked up on it before, but after recent events it's pretty obvious.. to Robin at least! Does he like Aster back? Well, maybe he doesn't know yet, or maybe it's a secret, but (spoiler alert) Robin's pansexual, so there's a chance he could.

Doctor Abbott - briefly mentioned before, but let's dig deeper!

Dr. Abbott is the psychologist Oscar/Courtney sent Robin to a while back for his selective mutism after it started hindering him/his schoolwork etc since starting high school. He's terrifying simply because Robin's terrified of him-.. though I suppose not him personally. Robin's torn between a rock and a hard place when it comes to professional help; on the one hand he'd love to offload all his troubles and get some real guidance, but the other side of him worries what that'd mean. He can't tell anyone the full story, so how could anyone truly help him? Is his mutism even connected to his gift, or does he just use it as a convenient excuse? What if they didn't believe him and labelled him insane? What if he IS insane and imagining everyone else's thoughts? What if they do believe him and want to experiment on him?! 😱 If he's gonna tell anyone about his abilities, it sure as shit isn't gonna be some stranger he doesn't trust, even if it appears they mean well! He'd love to know where his gift came from though. Why him? Where'd it come from? Does anyone else have it?? He doubts anyone would be able to answer these questions but it still kinda ties into the whole theme of being experimented on etc. I think at this point he's wondering who he is (as every teen does around his age) or who he'd be without his abilities too, like another part of him is worried he'd be a mere husk of himself if science somehow explained away his world. It's just a part of who he is now and I think he's starting to accept himself as is, so the thought of someone picking it all apart after his acceptance is perhaps more scary than letting anyone in to help make sense of it. Maybe it's just one of those things, or maybe he's bonkers and has no idea? He doesn't know.. he's very confused, hence the complicated feelings around poor, well-meaning Dr. Abbott.

Mr Handy - he gets an honourable mention because it's funny to me.. like he's usually on the players side, right?! Yeah, but Robin isn't fond of technology in general so in dreamland good ol' Mr Handy is a dickhead instead lmao 😂

Some fun what if's & titbits...

I'm not gonna break down all the what if scenarios because there were a LOT but I still wanna take some time to point out some fun stuff n' share a few fun things we missed out on 🤸‍♀️

If Levi tried to scare Robin, it wouldn't have worked in the slightest which I just find amusing 🤭

If Robin n' co. chose to hide instead of run earlier on in the dream, he would've gotten stuck in a closet with Aster eheuheuheu (this is the fun thing I said y'all missed out on!!)

There were numerous ways for Levi to piss Penny off during the duration of the dream (somehow he only managed one so well done ig) that would've potentially changed their demise and one was Tess falling off the ladder and Levi helping her.. look at those mad lil fists on Penny LMAO 😂 You can also see another lovely doll pointing in the direction of the monster that was chasing them but everyone would've been like ewwww! even tho she was just trying to help.. shame on us tbh ;-;

Just Aster being cute tryna keep the peace.. IF HE'D SURVIVED! T-T

Mr Handy being absolutely demented.. love that for him.

Robin being yeeted back to the asylum.. skjsk idk I just like these screenshots lmao

Aster being a menace to both Levi and Penny ehehe

I had such fun creating this little project (I say little but it literally took months fkfjgkj) and October was kinda shitty for me so thank you to everyone for reading along, voting and generally having fun with me, it gave me something to look forward to! 🧡

I love horror and taking a break from a more realistic style of storytelling is always good fun, dreams especially 'cause they can be as wacky as you like!

I suppose my main inspo for the what if's/voting was Until Dawn but I think we can all thank games like Silent Hill, Outlast, Resident Evil, Amnesia etc etc for the general vibes I was going for 🤔

EITHER WAY! Very fun.. 10/10 would recommend trying to stretch yourselves into doing something something similar, I had a blast!

I think I covered a fair amount of questions n' stuff but feel free to ask anything else! ILY 🧡🧡

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (18)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, mentions of masturbation with a plushie, jealous Bucky

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (17)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky is fuming. Not only did you break his rules to not touch yourself; no, you did it in front of one of the hidden cameras, smiling into the camera while riding one of your plushies. A big bear you named Bucky Bear.

“Bucky bear makes me feel so good,” you whimper on the footage as you rub yourself against the plushie. “Always so good. If only the real Bucky was here to watch us doing naughty things.”

“DOLL!” Bucky calls for you, but you remain in the bedroom. You giggle because he calls you a naughty doll. “I told you not to touch yourself!”

“You told me many things! As long as you treat me like a dangerous criminal you must lock away, I’ll ride fluffy Bucky Bear, not you.”

Bucky laughs. He believed you’re a shy and sweet girl, when in reality you’re a naughty devil in disguise. Bucky shakes his head when your moans on the footage get louder.

“She’s a naughty girl, Alpine,” he says to himself. His cat is occupied elsewhere. The white furball is currently curled in your side to get some cuddles. Bucky looks around the room, huffing, as his cat is nowhere to be seen. “Alpine, punk. Don’t get all cozy with her. She deserves punishment.”

“So do you,” you reply, and snuggle into the pillow. “Alpine is such a good companion. At least they didn’t leave me all alone, with only cat food and water.”

Bucky sighs deeply. He should be in charge and correct your behavior, but he doesn’t have it in him to punish you for breaking his rules. You’re not wrong.

Bucky doesn’t trust you yet, afraid you’ll leave him. Sooner than later, everyone left him. Even his best friend. Steve Rogers. He promised Bucky till the end of the line but left to live his life with some girl he met during the war.

Sometimes Bucky believes Steve left because he realized his old friend was long gone. Maybe Steve knew that his friend was broken beyond repair and ran for the hills.

He shakes his head. No. Steve deserved his happy ending. Even if that means leaving his best friend behind, this world has a new Captain America now.

It’s time for Bucky to find his own life and happy ending. He stops the footage and decides to fix what he messed up.

“Doll, I’m sorry,” he kicks off his shoes and takes off his pants to join you on the bed. He snuggles close to you and runs his hand over your head. “I know you came with me willingly. I’m just so scared that you’ll leave me too.”

“No,” you hastily reply, and you move closer to hide your face in Bucky’s chest. He wraps his arms around you to hold you tightly. “I gave up my whole life to be with you, Bucky. I left my job, home, and freedom behind to come here. I didn’t know what awaited me when I got with you, but I knew, I’ll be safe.”

“I’ll always keep you safe, Y/N,” Bucky murmurs. He nuzzles your hair and sighs as you relax in his embrace. “I thought about what you said too. You’re right. I can’t keep you here like a caged bird.”

“We must be careful,” you murmur and kiss his chest. “My colleague reported me missing. If anyone sees me... they could call the cops. I don’t want them to take me away.”

“You’re right again.” Bucky nods. “What should we do now? I didn’t think so far. I only wanted to grab you and bring you here.”

You giggle. “Bucky, you’re an awful kidnapper.”

“I did a great job,” he grumbles. “You’re here, with me. That’s all that matters to me, Y/N. Consequences be damned.”

“What if I email my former boss, telling them I quit? Maybe I can pretend that I’m in Paris or having a sunbath on an exotic island. What do you think?”

“Photoshop,” Bucky hums. “A great invention if you need to fake being elsewhere. We can create some photos and send them to your colleague or boss. You just upped and left to have an extended vacation.”

“That sounds good to me,” you whisper his name while running your hand over his chest. “I’ll send an email, telling my boss I quit. At the same time, I’ll post fake pictures of my extended vacation on social media.”

“Do you think this will work out? I mean, maybe you should stay hidden.” Bucky wonders if it’s a good idea to post fake pictures on social media. He spent so many years hidden in the shadows that stepping into the light seems to be dangerous to the former assassin.

You snuggle into his chest, ignoring his questions. “I don’t know. Let’s get some sleep for now. We can think about a plan tomorrow. Only if you don’t lock the kitchen cabinets again.”

“I unlocked them, doll,” Bucky assures you once again. “This will never happen. This is your home now, not a prison. I want you to feel welcome and happy.”

“With you around, I’m happy,” you whisper his name and close your eyes. “All I wanted since I first saw you was to be with you.”

Tags in reblog.

[lethalchiralium]

The Death of Peace of Mind | Happiness Series

a/n: i love u, have some escapism (also PLEASE roast the shit out of this like you’re in my creative writing class, thank u love u)

warnings: violence, blood

There’s a stark difference in the snow on the ground in this forest than the snow back home in Maine. When you were little, you used to sit on the stoop of your parents’ house, bundled to the nines and your little hand holding fistfuls of powdery snow. You could look around and see saplings for miles, ready to be chopped and loaded onto a truck that would merrily lead you back to the main city - needles greener than the grass in summer, full of life and dusted with the white snow. Your dad would gently pet your head before sauntering down the steps, getting ready to head to the markets for the day. You waved, snow decorating your hand as you’d watch the old truck hobble down the driveway and disappear into the grown trees.

You used to find the snow beautiful, something to look forward to seeing every year so your mom could decorate for Christmas with the colorful lights you always liked.

All these memories seemed to cling like maggots to rotting flesh, only coming to surface when it finds a new wound to sink its teeth into.

This snow is bitter here, clinging like cigarette smoke to the jacket you snatched from the floor. It danced on your lashes, made its home in your hair, settled softly on your daughter’s head. Your stomach felt like lead, legs ready to give out at any second as you kept going as fast as you could. You used to be able to run efficiently in the snow, but now, you struggled. You ran and dodged low limbs, tried not to tumble down small hills as fear held a tight grasp on your throat.

Lloyd would wake up soon, he would see you gone and raise the alarm. You only had so little time to find some sort of shelter that wasn’t the decrepit cabin you were held in, you had to find a phone that wasn’t busted, you had to just get as far from that fuck as you could. You couldn’t even spend any energy on what almost happened thirty minutes earlier, couldn’t think of anything but hurting your kidnapper; the only strength you had was to make sure Mellie would live. You glanced down at her, her little brown eyes looking up at you with a weak glare that could send you to your knees at home. But this wasn’t home, this was miles from it, and you and your child were only a few hundred yards escaped from death’s door - not under your comforter at home, nursing her high fever. You were desperate for your husband at that moment, begging God with every second breath to bring him to you. He would know what to do, he would take your daughter away from this place.

Snow crackled underneath your feet as you kept going, the brunt of the wind hit your face like a train but you kept going. Your arms were taut around Mellie, keeping the oversized jacket around her whimpering frame. The sky was a light shade of blue, the trees danced beneath its breath, the only shelter you could find was down the mountain. You already felt like you’ve scale half of it, but you were far from close - you coming up to a sloped edge now, your feet slowed so you could peer over the edge. It was steep but you could slide down, there was another ledge, then another stretch of snow covered hills as you descended. You had no idea where you were, but you knew this had to be hell.

Tree after tree, boulder after iced over creek, your exhaustion was catching up but there was no way you would stop. There is no stop. There is no slowing down. There is only your daughter’s escape, even if means you don’t make it out.

Stop it. Winnie and Simon need you too.

What little path you had began to narrow, your fingers felt even colder than before as you came to a split in the road. You went right, knowing any trick you could play now wouldn’t work out because of the damn snow. Breathing harder every second, your vision seemed to fade in and out - Keep going.

The sound of your name being screamed at the top of Lloyd’s lungs felt like a gunshot to the chest.

Every muscle in your body seemed to roar to life, even with the snow slowing you down, you kept pushing on. Mellie whined into your collarbone, your hands burned. There was barely any indication of where the road was, you couldn’t follow the asshole’s car path because they would have been able to catch up quickly. The path was running out of terrain as another edge appeared, this one seemed like a steep drop off. You skidded to a stop, looking to a thick pine tree nearby, looking down at your daughter and making a quick decision to hide her. Ripping off your jacket, you bundled her up, and moved into the tree - digging out a small hole in the small heap of pine needles, you kissed Mellie’s face and sat her there.

There was no way out, you knew that. You would have to fight your way out - the thought clawed at your stomach the same way betrayal felt. Because you were here alone, the promise your husband made left shards of glass in your face and hands.

You will stand your ground if it meant Lloyd couldn’t have your daughter.

“Princess, you need t’sit.”

Simon pushed your frantic body towards the park bench, his guiding hand seemed too warm against your lower back. Sobs kept escaping your lips, even as you were trying desperately to silence them. “I don’t- I don’t know what’s- what’s- happening-“

“Sit.” Following his lead, you found yourself hyperventilating on a park bench after dark with your husband. He tore off his face mask, his hand cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You feel m’hand, yeah?”

You nodded, a hiccup left your hips before another sob escaped too, your eyes closed as you tried to stop these random tears.

“No, you need to look at me, I can’t help you if you don’t look at me, love.” His voice was calm, a nudge to help you, you opened your eyes with a quickness - lashes fluttering to fight the salty tears. “Good girl. Tell me somethin’ about m’face.”

“Wha-What?”

“Do it.”

You sniffled, trying to take a deeper breath but your chest only seemed to constrict itself. More tears fell as you whispered, “You- You have pretty eyes.”

“Tell me something about m’clothes.”

A glance down, leather jacket, black t-shirt, blue jeans. “Leather jacket.”

“Good girl. How does my hand feel?”

Warm. Comforting. Like if you’d let go, he’d still be there, keeping you afloat. More tears fell. “Like home.”

“What do you hear?”

Dogs howling down the street, the brakes of the tram you two were trying to catch, Simon’s voice.

“You.”

“Good.” His other hand took one of yours, squeezing it. “Doin’ so well f’me. Can you take a deep breath now?”

You followed his command, a sob rattled around your ribcage as you exhaled.

“You can cry, baby, but you need to calm down. Gotta think straight before we get you home, yeah?”

You wondered how Simon would feel, seeing you like this. Back rested on the forest floor, heaving, coughing up blood as your knuckles felt singed by fire - if only it was fire, but it was from beating your father-in-law off of you. The fall down the steep hill onto the plateau hurt a lot more now than it did ten seconds ago, and the man now clambering to get on top of you felt like the bringer of death. Claws made of your bloodied hands, scraping them against his face as he gripped your neck - it seized, pulling up from the snow as you hit and clawed more at him, his hands remained steadfast. Air escaped your body, and no breath could be taken in - panic began to buzz throughout your body as anger fueled it.

Heavy hands that felt like paws, that felt like boulders, that felt like God abandoning you.

Not yet.

You know what to do.

A swift kick from your knee made the bastard wheeze, loosen his grip, and it left only a moment’s notice to grasp the opportunity. You slammed your fist into his nose, feeling the sickening crack before he leaned backwards, you bucked your hips before punching again. He went backwards. Again. He went backwards. Again. He’s on his back. Again. Again. He’s screaming. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

It hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you escaped with Mellie, and now you find yourself pumped full of adrenaline, beating your captor’s face in for even daring to try and take your child.

Your hands felt blood. You couldn’t tell if he was dead yet. Make sure he will be.

Three days you spent in that basement. Two hours you spent carefully laying a plan, and one moment to swing that broken bookshelf into your father-in-law’s skull. And you were choosing to ignore the beating you had received when protecting your baby, the beating both of you took as you tossed each other down a steep hill. Brawling like mountain lions - a mother protecting her cub, the other looking to devour you whole.

A scream of pain escaped your lungs, another punch to the bloody face. Another. Another. Another, until you couldn’t tell the man beneath you was the monster who fucked up your husband.

Another hard punch for Simon.

Another for Mellie.

And five more for yourself.

A laceration on your head began to throb as you could finally feel your hand, turning off of the beaten man and onto your back and into the bloodied snow. Facing the sky felt like freedom, the pain in your hand felt like the flames in your fireplace back home, your ringing ears felt like knives inside your skull - but your heart beat without fail, through the agony, through the rage and fear.

A cough escaped your chest, blood leaving with it as you turned onto your one hand and knees, looking up the steep hill which would lead you back to Mellie. The tree peaked over the crest of the ledge, your hands - through excruciating pain - gripped the mud, snow, and ice as you began to push yourself up.

“Melody, Melody Ivy,” Her name groaned from your broken voice, every handful of ice and push from your foot made your head throb more, your balance growing weaker with every push. “Mama’s comin’, Mama’s on her way, fuck.” Your whining eardrums couldn’t hear her, fear and panic still rampant in your veins, your breathing barely escaping your lips without a wheeze.

What would he do if he saw you now? The thought felt bitter, the anger leaving your throat in decibels, a few more feet and you would have to pull yourself up and over. Hike your foot up, pull yourself up with your broken hand.

He wouldn’t be here. A growl escaped you. He would be here already if he cared, if he knew. Does he know?

Does he know where you are? Does he think you’re safe at home, under your favorite blanket with Winnie asleep on your lap, your show playing on the TV? Does he think König and Roach are standing guard, Laswell talking on her phone at the table?

Does he truly believe that?

Do you?

You didn’t even notice that you had fallen further down the hill to the bottom, past Lloyd’s body, into a bed of snow and ice. The sky, grey like the ashes in your childhood home’s fireplace, blocked the sun and blue sky above. Your hands were numb, spine tingled with every breath, and your chest roared as it expanded. Maybe you lost your footing, or your hand slipped, or God just believed it was funny to let you fall farther from your child. You were going to die here, Mellie too, and it hurt. It blossomed like a rose, decaying your chest with every brush of a petal, the waves washing ashore and flooding your body with angry salt water. Your body would be found here, bones picked clean by mountain lions or foxes, and she would be safe, nestled beside the tree.

There was no peace here. No mornings in snowsuits on the porch, watching Christmas trees be hauled down the lane, squealing because of the fresh snow. No afternoons sitting by the fire with your daughters, watching an animated movie as they both napped on your lap. No evenings with your husband, talking about some meaningless memory as he brushed your hair cautiously. There was only the sky, the blood that came from your head, chest, back, and hand, and the cries of a mother who can’t do more than cry for her child.

[sirianasims]

The Don Diaries

Living with Kyle is an experience, I tell you. First of all, I have no idea how he maintains that hunky physique because he is constantly eating junk.

He also keeps drinking energy drinks and I have no idea where he's even getting them from.

He at least tries cleaning up after himself sometimes, but he's also extremely clumsy so he breaks more than he cleans.

Goddammit, Kyle.

After a few days, Dani is getting a bit sick of the smell of spoiled energy drinks everywhere. And that isn't the only bad habit Kyle seems to have...

WILL YOU PUT ON SOME GODDAMN PANTS MAN

Kyle, get your naked ass off my furniture, I swear... where did you get those chicken nuggets? You didn't go anywhere near the fridge???

And where did you keep that energy drink?! Do I even want to know?!?

Oh well, time for the welcome wagon, and we convince Kyle to put on some clothes just in time for everyone to look absolutely thrilled about the fruitcake.

Kyle's a bit miffed about having to wear pants though, so he grabs yet another energy drink and watches tv instead of socialising. (Reader Service™️ - Yellow shirt is Julie, Don's first love, teal lady is her sister Toni the bartender and Don's 9th conquest or something, the guy with the blue shirt is one of their random roommates and then there is of course Nathan, Sidney's husband.)

The group decides to join Kyle and watch a movie, but a faint beep is heard from the hallway. And Kyle the Burning Donkey decides to be useful for once, completely forgetting the Love Guru's words.

And also forgetting the fucking lint tray.

THE HIMB, THE HIMB, THE HIMBO'S ON FIRE

The Burning Donkey seems resigned to his fate...

But Dani doesn't give her man up so easily.

Ew, Dani, he's all covered in soot!

(Interestingly, everyone ran screaming out of the apartment except Toni who has probably seen worse as a bartender.)

Finally, the smoke and visitors clear out, and Kyle the Flaming Ass lives to slack another day.

[ask-the-colony-tree-siblings]

How did Riv find out about Saint's third eye? Also I find it kind of wild how they think the colony would care about their 'unusual features' when Riv is literally some kind of salamander hybrid slugcat or something like that lmao (not that I blame Saint for it, given their anxiety) ... though hypnotizing their way into the colony on the otherhand...

The first question will be answered later, (I’m too lazy to draw rn sorry lol) but I’m gonna ramble about the second thing you said now! I love rambling ✨

They think that the colony would hate them for not looking like normal slugcats because of things like in these two examples (from an old comic featuring one of Inv’s flashbacks) that were said to them when they were younger.

In the comic (don’t go look at it the art is so old lol) Inv says that they’re going to run away and find a nice slugcat family to adopt them, and Bountiful’s response is to basically call them a freak. When the thought of being driven out or killed for their odd appearance doesn’t scare Inv enough, she turns to posing the question of if Inv will leave Saint alone with her (not safe) or take them out into a dangerous world that will hate them (also not safe). By making Inv think that running away will get Saint hurt just as much as leaving them unprotected with her would, she makes it so both Inv and Saint stay with her.

Of course, eventually they both ran away anyways, but the idea that they’ll be hated for their appearances is still firmly implanted in their heads. Despite the colony’s obvious diversity, they’re still scared that they’re too different.

But, they’re starting to grow away from that internalized idea of “we’re not normal (derogatory)” and are heading more in a “nobody’s normal (positive)” direction! Inv’s best friend, Riv, was the first to know about the siblings’ true appearances, and had the polar opposite reaction to what Bountiful had said would happen. Riv though that they both looked very cool, and was confused as to why they’d ever hide that. The siblings are starting to question what they were taught, but still think it’s too risky to be themselves.

The growth is visible in the banner change btw! In the current banner, Saint is wearing a bandanna instead of a hat. The bandanna shows a lot more of their face, but it still hides their third eye. Inv’s wearing their sunglasses on their forehead in the new banner, not covering their eyes. It isn’t that big of a change, but you can still see that they’re not hiding quite so much of themselves anymore. :3

(Inv doesn’t realize they were ever manipulated by Bountiful, by the way. They think that Bountiful was crazy manipulative with Saint, but never bothered with them. While it’s true that she manipulated Saint more, Inv wasn’t spared from her influence. It’s definitely something that will be part of their arc later, so I thought I’d throw this part of their character out there, since I’m not sure if people have picked up on it yet lmao)

[hogwartsstudentconfidential]

Dear students,

We have a few announcements for this week as well as some juicy gossip.

First things first, the quidditch season begins this upcoming weekend with our first game being Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff. If you are still holding tryouts for your new team mates, you're late so get on with it.

Secondly, there is a rumor of another lovely party coming around, hosted by none other than Ravenclaw but you didn't hear it from me. Busy weekend for parties knowing Gryffindor or Hufflepuff will probably host one this weekend as well. Do we have an epic party battle beginning on our hands?

Third, McGonagall seems to have taken quite the liking to none other than @marls-mckinn0n . She's given the girl more than three chances to renew her transfiguration project. And yet she still hasn't done it nor received a detention. Is this bias I see?

And now onto our juicy gossip for the week.

Starting off with Xenophilus Lovegood. We all know the boy has been pining after none other than Pandora Rosier for quite sometime now but does he not realize his untold infatuation with the girl is in fact losing him his prize.

However he does not see his epic portrayal of being just the girl's good friend as a ruse. He refuses to tell the girl how he feels and yet somehow claims to say exactly what he thinks. Might we have a liar on our hands?

Now for our next set of gossip. This one's been going around Hogwarts for quite some time now. It is said that none other than our well known Lucius Malfoy has kissed none other than Pandora Rosier at Sirius'Blacks big birthday bash this past weekend. Well I am here to confirm the rumors are in fact true. Our dear student council cameraman has in fact caught a photo of the two right before the girl ran off. Is a romance blossoming? Or is Malfoy just the world's worst kisser?

Now for Lily and Barty. Has anyone noticed how much Barty and Evan flirt with one another? Is it just casual bromance or something more lying just below the surface. I mean Barty's own defense against the idea was well let's say as believable as a humpback whale living in Hufflepuffs common room.

On another note Emmeline Vance drawing Mary MacDonald in a tree? Our sources say the two are very much interested in one another in a more romantic sense. What do you think are they in love or just two girl friends hanging out? We'll let you decide.

Dorcas Meadows and Marlene Mckinnon have also seemed to find comfort in one another with a recent post made by Dorcas stating they had in fact been on a date with one another.

Peter Peter petigrew has finally found himself a date or should I say two. Peter was spotted going on a date with none other than Skylar Faircloth and Gilderoy Lockhart. Is love in the air? If so let me suck in some air molecules because where is my romance?

Anywho has anyone seen Regulus Blacks new hair? It's pretty rad if I say so myself. Definitely unexpected from the youngest Black but such a great way to express his possibly new found style.

This seems like more romance than gossip this week but I suppose we'll see where the love blows once the winds roll in. Either way congratulations to all of you love birds and I will see you all next week with some more gossip!

Tah Tah, Darlings! ��

@lilyevansoffical @james-the-amazing-potter @malfoy-lu @xeno-graphical @hjonesworld @marls-mckinn0n @wormy-loves-ch33se @lifeofthe-barty @little-king-official @siriuslynotadog @andromedashoax @looneymoonyy @xxrudolphuslestrangexx @emmelineandhervans @mary-mcdeal @cas-not-the-band @the-queen-bellatrix @alicethekindone @severusprince-snape @pandoras-nox @skylarfaircloth

[doublejango]

I am already seeing virtue signaling posts from people saying "I don't care what you believe or how you voted..."

That's great. I care. I care a lot. The outcome of this election effects me, but so much more than me. I care. It matters. And if it really doesn't matter to you? Good for you. If you are privileged enough, safe enough, and entitled enough to truly not care about how the election will impact other people... I can't even imagine what that must be like. Nice, I guess?

I spent most of last night and this morning crying.

I'm done with tears now, and have moved on to rage.

And you know what? I promise not to let it burn out. Because smiles and positivity may work for many of us, and I'm not going to lose mine either, I promise not to lose my queer joy--they can rip it from my cold dead hands, not to get too damn dramatic here--but I'm also not in the mood to start forgiving and smiling and welcoming Nazis into the bar.

So. I will hold onto anger. I've been tolerant and accepting long enough in life... and have learned something important about what causes the worst harm.

I have been gay bashed before. Violently. Blood. Broken bones. Lost teeth. And you know what the worst part of the recovery of all of that was, the part that did the most psychological and emotional damage? It wasn't the actual bashing itself. It wasn't even the memory of exactly what it felt like to have something swung full force into my face with extremely violent intent. It was the denial from my "friends" and family afterwards. The people who wanted to deny that it was a hate crime. The people who wanted me to shrug it off and not be upset about it. The people who loved to say oh well it wasn't that bad. You know what helped? Letting myself feel fury. Letting myself name the attack as hate. "It wasn't that bad," though, they said, asif it was their judgment to make--endless hours of dental procedures, pain, wounds that never fully healed, the trauma, the lost work, the new experience of vomiting blood with broken jaws and knocked out teeth. Because it wasn't that bad. And there was so much self-reproach, because I could have avoided it. I wasn't the intended target. He was swinging for a lesbian with me. When the attacker burst out of hiding he was swinging for the side of her head, her temple. I jumped in between them. Didn't think. It was an impulse. Protect the people you care about. So I took it to the face. And I grabbed him. I threw him, and fell doing it. I remember being on my knees in the mud. Seeing my teeth in the mud. Seeing my blood just. Everywhere. And knowing I needed to push back to my feet immediately because it might not be over.

We were lucky. It was over. He hadn't expected anyone to fight back. He ran.

But the people who claimed to love me didn't want to deal with the idea that it was a hate crime. They wanted it to be random and meaningless. That made their world a little safer, I guess. And their denial made my world colder. And my recovery lonelier. Harder. They put me down for "bringing it on myself." As if it would have been more virtuous to let this woman take that attack to her temple, as if I would have been more valid for standing by and watching it happen.

There are so many more stories I can tell you, but the lesson is almost invariably the same: the ugliest hurt is often the one caused by the people who just turn away when you identify what happened to you. The hurts that cut the deepest and last the longest often come from the people we thought we could trust, because they want you to just get over it, don't talk about it, admit it could have been worse, don't call it That.

The betrayal from people who are supposed to have your back? That deepens wounds, deepens trauma.

I won't be that person. I won't tell you to smile and turn the other cheek when someone shows you they hate you. Do whatever you need to do to survive--physically, emotionally, psychologically. Just don't give up, and don't let the cowards force you into feeling shame for not giving up and letting the world break you.

Never be ashamed to refuse to break.

Never let someone shame you for choosing strength. For drawing your line in the sand.

I wanted the "exciting" times of my life to be behind me. But they're not--so be it. I'm not going to tone myself down to be safer. I don't care about my own safety anymore. Any self-preservation drive broke a long time ago when it comes to homophobia. I promise to always be ready to fight. To be a queer menace to "polite" society. I promise to be out and loud and gay, to be a shield however I can for those who can't be out, who can't fight back, who can't even speak up because it wouldn't be safe for them to do so. They are valid, too. And I love them. And I will have their fucking backs. I promise to, in my real off-the-internet life, be someone who will always jump in and speak up if I see queer people being harassed or shamed--especially if they're young. I am older. I will fight for my baby gays. I will love them.

And I will never, never put anyone down for refusing to welcome Nazis into the bar. We don't look the other way and quietly tolerate them. Not here.

I may not be around much for the next few days. I need to handle my own shit. My own fury. My own grief. Because right now, there is so much grief.

But I won't be going anywhere.

I will fight to stay.

Whatever it takes.

I'm not giving up.

If I end up on my knees in the mud again, staring at my own blood and teeth, metaphorically or in fucking reality, so be it. I will get back up. And I will keep getting back up. I won't let go of the anger. The spite. And I definitely won't let go of my love for every queer person, the ones I know and the ones I don't, because that love is what will give me strength to get through this. Whatever comes next.

I may not have much sense of self-preservation. But goddamn, I will fight for you.

[stanskissing]

Ford being like "You are getting out of my house. Tonight" and Stan arguing because he needs to stay at least until the kids are gone and he asks what he's supposed to do and Ford's just very quietly like "What about what you did in highschool?" and Mabel listens through the door while Stan gets fucked against a wall lmao

keep these comng hhguys. polease. im having so many totally legal and not innapropriere thoutghts right noew. also i had to steal that thumb off of google cjz i couldnt draw it and it makes it so much funnier

it was the same night that ford came back, previous arguement aover ford kicking stn out was only a handful of hours before, and they were already back at the throats in the kitchen. it was like idfk two am or some shit and they had ran into eachother in the kitchen and stans anger boiled over and he kinda blew up on ford and ford gets so fucking mad because he still holds so much resentment towards stan and idk stan says some shit about how none of this was stans fault to begin with and ford gets so fucking mad because how dare stan say something like that when he hsas no idea what ford went through with bill and he gets so fuckin mad he shoves stan back by his shoulders and snarls that stan is leaving. tonight. and stan gets Equally as mad becausse first of all how dare ford push him and also is he fucking stupid ford cant take care of those fucking kids and also what is stan supposed to do? he's an old man now, he's spent the last thirty years of his life doing nothing but trying to save ford and now he's yelling at ford and fords backed him against the wall gripping his biceps tight and and then ford mutters, just do what you did in highschool. and stan is floored, because what the fuck. no way ford brought that up. but also. holy fuck? that was so fucking hot? and theres a silence between them, chests panting from their yelling and they stared at eachother and for a moment ford thinks fuck. i shouldnt have said that.

but then stan's hands are on him, all over him, and he's kissing him and fuck ford snaps he pushes him back into the wall again and stans head bumps on the wood and lets out a groan and ford uses that to force his tongue into stans mouth and his hands come up to bury in stan's hair and his fists tug roughly and stan moans and jesus fuck they both missed this so much, not that either would admit it. ,,ford spins stan around, crashing himagainst the hard wall as his hand reaches around to yank his pants open and shove them down his mid thighs, his free hand is pressed against the side of stan's head, shoving his cheek intot he wall as his glasses are knocked off his face nd clatter on the floor, the two of them too caught up in eacother to even notice. the room was filled with huffs and puffs and groans and moans as ford shucked his own pants down and pushed into stan, both of them ignoring any need of foreplay because just needed. needed to be inside of stan anf to fuck all 30 years of pent up emotion into the man under him. he slips into stan with ease and he growls at the idea of stan being so loose because of other men (bros just old dude leabe him alobe) he fuckedinot him harder, leaning forward to press his chest to stan's back, biting at his righth shoulder, leaving marks littering the scar there, seeing the marking made his heart hurt but also licked his ego seeing a branding that ford did on his brother that hecould never get rid of. its just plain animalistic hatefuck in the middle of the night in the kitche, ford spitting insults and degrafing words in stans ear, telling him how the only thing he;s ever been good at is this, this is all ford will ever need from him. stan fights back, telling him to piss of and his dick isnt even that good, both brothers biting insults at eachother as they fuck like rabbits

right around the corner, pressed against the wall next to the door way was poor mabel who happened to come down for water at the Worst Timing Ever. her hand was clamped over her mouth as not to be heard as she listened to her grunkles growl and pant like dogs with wide eyes as the wet sounds of sex filled her little ears, one hand pressed against the heat of her undies with the goal for water long, long forgotten

thank you for sending me this anon. hope i did it justice. absolute fire prompt. sorry if i mixed uo their names anytime in this i wrote like half of this during a dizzy spell (prime bee content zone) imm gonaan go take the fattest bee nap ever (stare at the wal and driool for 20 minutes)

part 1! part 2!

[footnoteinhistory]

Time for my big NYC Marathon 2024 recap post!! This post is very long, roughly organized borough by borough, and mostly for my own personal record since I don't feel like putting pen to paper rn

And because so many of you have supported me through all of this (like... all of everything in my life for a long time), I thought maybe some of y'all would be interested. Here is my detailed experience (+ some photos!) <3

Got up Sunday morning at 4:30 am, on the Midtown bus to the start by 6 am. My start wasn't until almost 11 am but I was so anxious about logistics I was happy to get to the start village earlier and sit around bored rather than later and panicked. Fortunately my charity team had a heated tent where I killed three-ish hours by people watching, forcing myself to eat bagels w/ peanut butter and bananas and graham crackers until I couldn't stomach any more, and meeting Meb Keflezighi (!!!). I've read Meb's book twice this year and was too starstruck to say anything to him other than thank you but! What a neat surprise to start the day. A grizzled volunteer held out two water bottles and I took one, then he gave me this look and shook the other bottle at me until I took that one, too. He knew. Trust the volunteers.

I was battling serious nerves leading up to the start line, which I'll skip for brevity's sake bc this is going to be a long post anyway. But by the time we lined up on the Verrazzano Bridge (I was on the lower level), I felt good. Excited. The anthem, the helicopters, the cannon, Frank Sinatra, crossing the start.

As you might know bc I've agonized over it extensively on this blog, my training did not go according to plan this year. I hurt my left leg in April, possibly a fracture, and struggled throughout the summer. I wrestled with the idea of deferring. Finally I decided that I would finish the race, even if I had to walk the entire thing. After a few weeks of speed-walking and rebuilding my strength, I felt okay enough to put a little more pressure on my leg and jog occasionally. I hadn't *run* more than 2-3 consecutive miles since the spring. Literally took a photo of my leg in the starting village with the thought it might be the last time it ever looks normal in case my shin snapped in half in some horrific freak stress injury mid-race. Peak anxiety brain.

So starting slow on the Verrazzano's uphill, I was so anxious I would feel that familiar twinge in my leg. I've felt it for months. Sometimes I'm not sure it isn't a phantom pain now. But I didn't feel it that first mile. Or the second, leaving the Verrazzano and thinking "oh, this could be fun." Or the next mile, entering the first neighborhood. So I ran for the next 10 miles straight.

Brooklyn: The first half of the marathon goes through Brooklyn. It was such a fucking party the whole way. Our wave ran through some quieter streets and neighborhoods before hitting 4th Ave, but it was the perfect warm up. Everyone in the world and their mother tells you not to go out too fast in a marathon but it is IMPOSSIBLE not to—not only was I overjoyed to be running without pain for the first time in weeks, I was zooming around giving as many high-fives to the kids as I could.

I had my name pinned to my shorts and it was 100% the right decision. I've heard from runners who say it was too overstimulating or they had trouble locating friends and family when everyone was screaming their name, but I needed it. I'll get into that later, but even at the start it was such a boost. A woman on a highway overpass shouted "Hi Emily, welcome to Brooklyn!" The first kid I high-fived smacked my hand and said "LET'S GO EMILY"

The entirety of 4th Ave was incredible. I loved running through Brooklyn during the half in 2023 and I loved it this time. So many kids, funny signs, people offering tissues, live music, flags and banners. There were many Israeli and Palestinian flags throughout the course, which wasn't a surprise but still stirred up feelings. There was an older man standing alone with a Palestinian flag and we connected (I don't know how else to describe those fleeting interactions between runners and spectators but I had many; it's not quite a wave, sort of a nod, mostly eye contact, you just both know you're focused on each other for a moment). He yelled "stay strong, run for peace!"

Around Mile 8 at the Barclays Center I felt a cramp in my right calf. I assume this was a consequence of not having run more than eight miles for months before (better to go in undertrained than overtrained, they say, but perfect-amount-trained would've been great). That cramp stuck with me for quite while until every muscle was so cramped they were indistinguishable. But we will cross that unfortunately literal bridge when we come to it.

I managed to stretch it out, walk it off, and power on through until I met my family for the first time just before Mile 11. I liberally applied some Biofreeze to my calf and accidentally dropped my bag of SaltStick chews—a crucial error. Goodbye proper sodium intake for the second half of the race 😰

But I was still blissfully unaware of that mistake, running through the Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods and the rest of Brooklyn. Until I realized it on the Pulaski Bridge headed into...

Queens: If Brooklyn was a party, the two miles I spent in Queens were a brutal reality check. My calf cramp was not getting better, I was mad about losing my saltsticks, passing the halfway point was more intimidating than heartening. My half time was around 2:50, which is MUCH faster than I was expecting, but I knew I couldn't keep it up. I really do not remember Queens. There is a 25-minute gap in my camera roll from the Pulaski to the Queensboro. I recall it being loud, and I was a little overstimulated. I hadn't used headphones yet but put them in to check on the Bills game. We were losing, which did not help my mood.

Queensboro Bridge: I train in a hilly area, so I wasn't too scared when people spoke in hushed whispers about how difficult NYC's course elevation is. But the mood swings I experienced on this fucking bridge. First of all, it's never-ending. It goes up and up and up and up. I thought of Jareth, because they loved Simon & Garfunkel and The 59th Street Bridge Song is on the playlist they made that I listen to when I miss them. My calf was cramping in such a way that stretching could not reach, let alone fix. I started settling with myself—10 miles left, okay, I don't think I will be able to run again, I can walk the whole thing.

But then—we're going downhill again. I'm walking a little faster. We're taking the ramp off the bridge into Manhattan. I'm jogging. We're passing the 16-mile marker—from here on out, every step is the farthest I've ever run in my life. I'm running again. We turn onto roaring 1st Avenue!

Manhattan: 1st Avenue is very long. Everyone warns you about 5th Avenue, when you're close enough to the end you might fool yourself into thinking it's the home stretch—but no one (except Meb) warned me about 1st Ave, which feels uphill! Is it uphill?? It is also a 3.5-mile optical illusion. You look as far ahead as you can and that mass you see cannot be runners, that can't be where you're going, that is so far, the bridge to the Bronx must be closer than that. And yet.

My family also did not see me on 1st Ave as planned, which was kinda disappointing. They just didn't make it to the post we'd picked out ahead of time. I didn't want to be grumpy or ungrateful because they did travel all the way to New York for me, and I'm glad they were enjoying shopping and stuff on the UES, it's their vacation too! but like... you travelled all the way to New York for me. Maybe you could prioritize seeing me 🥺 BUT I was perhaps entering the mouth of the pain cave at this time. I'd been running for over 4 hours, the longest I'd ever done, I didn't have enough sodium.

The spectators were awesome. All along the whole course they were great—if it ever felt like too much, I just walked in the middle of the course and tuned them out fine. There's no way I would've finished without not just their vocal support but material support as well—a bag of pretzels was like manna from heaven. Spray-on Biofreeze. Drinks between the official hydration stations. Alcoholic drinks, too (I did not partake, but boy if there's ever a time to break your sobriety...). Tissues. Bananas and orange slices, cookies, Halloween candy, an angel who had my fave kind of Honey Stinger chews. I'd been eating my own gels every 30 minutes on the dot but I was starting to get sick of them. I took everything that anyone shoved in my hands, Gd bless the people of New York City and their generosity, foresight, and kindness.

The Bronx: Going up the Willis Ave Bridge I didn't know if I would be able to finish. I hadn't run in a couple miles. I looked over to my left and saw runners crossing the Last Damn Bridge and it looked unfathomably far away. I had over 6 miles to go, there was just no way. I wanted to lie down in the middle of the street, find a way to tell my family to pick me up here. But there was a woman on the bridge, the first spectator in the final borough, rocking a well-swaddled baby that couldn't have been older than just a few weeks in her arms, welcoming us to the Bronx. I had to keep going after that. I kept telling myself to just keep walking, step by step, and eventually I would finish.

I hoped crossing the 20 Mile marker would be a boost but it made me feel like crying, if I had been hydrated enough to cry. The Boogie Down Bronx was popping but I could not match their energy. My legs were not going to run another mile. I was literally staring at the road taking one step at a time, my head down.

Then out of nowhere I felt someone next to me. Another runner, a middle-aged guy I'd never seen or spoken to before, came up beside me and patted me on the back and mumbled something I didn't hear before jogging off, something short like "keep going," "you got this," etc it could've been anything we runners say to each other on the course from time to time. It doesn't really matter what he said because just that pat on the back gave me fresh legs. Literally it was like I was on the start line again. I cannot explain it at all, I am tearing up just remembering it right now, the most powerful moment of my race. I immediately picked my head up and started running again and ran the rest of the Bronx. Everything hurt, but I could run through it.

I thought about getting his bib # and looking him up but I decided not to ruin the magic. My literal savior. We bobbed around each other a few more times but I lost him when I stopped on...

The Last Damn Bridge: There's an annual hype squad on the 3rd Avenue Bridge, the final bridge of the marathon that takes you back into Manhattan, and I've connected with some of them on FB. Their project this year was putting the names of runners' late loved ones on posters to give us an extra boost at Mile 21. I'd completely forgotten about it until I started passing the boards, then backtracked to find Phil's name ❤️ The organizer saw my name bib and said "Your name is Emily? My name is Emily, too! We have to take a photo!" so we did :) That interaction gave me a boost out of the Bronx and onto…

5th Avenue: You hear many warnings about the subtle but brutal elevation on 5th Avenue, which takes you from Harlem down almost 50 blocks to Central Park. I did not notice the elevation at all, or at least did not register it as elevation. I was mostly focused on trying to stay conscious. I wasn't ever urgently concerned that I was going to pass out, but if someone had bumped into me I probably wouldn't have gotten up. I was fighting back dizziness—but having fun again? Fun might not be the word but I have pretty positive feelings looking back on 5th Ave. The Bills won—I listened to part of the fourth quarter bc I needed to mentally be anywhere else for a few minutes. My walking speed was about equal to my "running" speed at this point so I mostly settled for walking.

Fun crowds, lots of people saying my name. Saw my family for the second and final time! I only stopped for a moment—my cousin said "How do you feel?" and I kind of fake smiled/laughed (?), my eyes not really focused on any fixed point, and said "I just need to keep going" and stumbled away into a jog. AND THEN I SAW MY FAVE TIKTOKER? I am not big into tiktok but if any of you know Dutch (dutchdeccc) I ran past him, did a double-take, TURNED AROUND and went up to him?? I spit out something incoherent like ohmygdiloveyourvideos, he was so sweet he grabbed my hand and said oh my gd thank you so much you are doing so great you are amazing! and I ran off into Central Park 😭

Central Park: There were making the miles longer here. I need to see the numbers and cold hard facts about the course measurements because these miles were longer than the other miles. I hated every second of miles 24 and 25 in the park. THAT was the pain cave. That was, of course I am going to finish because I came this far, but I have never felt this bad in my life. Running would get this over with sooner but my legs are no longer functioning and I might end up eating asphalt so we are walking 16-minute miles until we're out.

I knew certain ways my body would react to the distance because I've done long runs, but I didn't know most of the ways. Like, of course I have a calf cramp, that's what happens. But your legs spasming like in those videos you see of shaky runners who collapse right before the finish line—suddenly oh shit, I understand how that happens. It's not just one foot in front of the other, if I can't run I'll walk—at some point you cannot walk, but you have to figure out how to keep walking.

Central Park was fucking The Long Walk by Stephen King. I keep trying to remember specifics but I think my brain is blocking them out on purpose.

Central Park South: I'm crying again just recalling this. The final mile. You leave the park and run from Sherman's statue and the Plaza Hotel to Columbus Circle before reentering the park for the .2 finish. The hugeness of the marathon and achieving this goal finally hit me and I started crying, like actual tears—but my chest was so tight and achy that crying made it very hard to breathe, instantly, which was actually scary, so I stopped crying QUICK. Gathered myself. Most people were sticking to the right-hand side of the course, along Central Park, mostly empty of spectators. But I fucking needed people.

I can't overstate the power of the crowds at the NYC Marathon. Of course hype spectators are fun at any race, the cheering really is uplifting, the signs are funny. But at 25.7 miles you need more (at least I did) and New York City fucking delivered. I started walking along the barricade on the left, lined with people, and stared as many of them as I could dead in the eye. Literally forcing eye contact with these strangers lmao. It happened throughout the race—you catch a spectator's eye and connect with them, they say something right to your soul and you believe them. But I swear that entire barricade came through for me. It was sunset but still light enough they could read my name on my bib. I started jogging, high-fiving the kids, just looking from one face to the next begging them to talk to me, kept running just to see the next person. And they were smiling and cheering and it worked. I felt like the only person on the fucking course. I kept running even when I had to go right back into the park, uphill .2 miles to the finish.

I kept thinking "this is so fucking hard this is the hardest thing I've ever done if you just keep running to the finish you never have to run ever again." I truly felt like I sprinted across the finish line fast as Usain Bolt, but looking back at the video I was hobbling slightly faster than my 92-year-old grandmother.

The finishers area kinda makes you feel like a toddler, which is fitting because at that point, mentally, you can't think clearly. Like, your brain doesn't have any fuel left to process what's going on after running for 6 hours so the volunteers shepherd you through like a preschooler. Here is your medal, great job!, let me get you a warm poncho and wrap it up tight for you, do you see those big green signs over there, just follow them, yep!, is this bag too heavy for you, are you sure, okay, you did so good today. We must look like stunned baby deer.

Walked to Lincoln Center to meet my family. Nightmare bc once you're on the streets you directly encounter non-runners for the first time all day and most of them do not give a fuck. And as I said, you are physically and mentally struggling already.

But getting that medal is really fucking cool. And worth it

I won't bore you with the rest of the night (mostly ouch ouch stairs ow big step ough lying down hurts standing up hurts shower hurts eating makes me nauseated sleep is impossible) but over 24 hours out, I've never been sore like this. Just uncrossing my ankles hurts. I've always enjoyed the ache of a tough workout but this is something else. Proud of it though. However, unfortunately, I will be losing a toenail. Some may say that is a rite of passage for a distance runner but unpleasant and painful and kinda makes me dizzy nonetheless.

I've still barely had time to emotionally process any of this. I've wanted this for so long. Even as I was doing it, and trying to live in the moment, I could not believe I was actually running the New York City Marathon. And in 2024—this year I've dreaded for so long, the 10th anniversary of Phil's death, a year that's been unexpectedly brutal on me in so many other ways, too. But Phil was with me every step of the way, literally.

I've been wearing the medal all day even though it rubs against the sunburn on the back of my neck, trading little smiles and nods with my fellow runners. We fucking did it. I had no idea what that meant two days ago, what it took. If I did, I'm not sure I would've even tried. But we fucking ran the marathon babyyyyy

This is kind of the only thing I want to talk about so if you want to talk about it or have any questions or anything just let me know 🥺

[sparkylilacs]

Bat Family Show Concept

I’ll admit while I’m more of a casual Bat-Man fan, I’ve been stalking the Bat Family concept posts on here and love the idea! 

It made me wonder why no networks have tried to make it a show yet? And that made me think about how it might play out. But since I’m still pretty green I need advice as to where to put which Bat kid in each of the middle child roles.

See Damian and Dick are easy to place. 

Damian: Baby, like actually only 4-5 years old, with lots of chaos energy. The other Bat kids consider babysitting him worse than a one on one training session with Bruce. 

Dick: 19-20 years old, finally off at college and trying to enjoy a normal life and put superhero stunts behind him (at least for now). Basically he's Nora from Cheaper by the Dozen, and keeps getting called back to the manor to meditate fights and babysit.

Then I have middle children roles, but am not sure who would fit best where.

9-10 year old Bat: Just learned the family secret or was just officially adopted by the family and is so excited to just be here training. Because we are freaking SUPERHEROS!

12-13 year old Bat: Current Robin, but is getting frustrated with the role (they can only go on night patrols with Bruce and even then only once or twice a month) and really wants their own super persona. Keeps trying out new names and costumes on their siblings, each more ridiculous (would be really funny if some of the personas referenced B role DC heroes) than the last.

15-16 year old Bat: Have their own superhero personas and have just started going on solo night patrols once a week. Current Robin is very jealous of them and they may rub it in the younger kid’s face just a bit.

But wait, where's Jason you may ask? He is the black sheep of the family (we don't talk about Bruno), the younger Bats barely remember/ didn’t know him at all. He left the night Talia dropped baby Damian at the manor. It was after a huge fight with Bruce over the family business that he ran off with Talia al Ghul and the League of Assassins. But as the show kicks off a new villain Red Hood has been growing power in the streets of Gotham. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from. Will there be a big dramatic reveal? Absolutely. Also Jason does not know about Damian or why Talia was in Gotham city that night. Just to add more drama of course.

Alfred will be the rock of the manor as he’s always been. He knows each of the Bats favorite late stakeout night drinks, the only way to get Damian to go to bed, and is the reason Dick keeps coming back to help out at the manor. Basically the overextended MVP, but he loves every minute of it because he remembers how quiet and empty the manor was after Bruce lost his parents. He is thriving in all the noise and life the manor has now.

Please add on your own ideas!