#elizabeth johnson x reader

[smt-obsessed]

The Countess

☆ 112 ☆ entj ☆ scorpio ☆ 5'1 ☆

Each symbol portrays a different genre.

💋= smut, 🚨= angst, 👑= darkfic,

🩹= sickfic, 🧸= fluff, 🌦= hurt/comfort

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☆ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

HEADCANNONS

Nothing yet...

ONE-SHOTS

Nothing yet...

SERIES

Nothing yet...

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☆ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

✰Masterlist✰

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (5/?)

Part Summary: Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game... The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.

Chapter word count: 3.2k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still Unresolved Sexual Tension, Still Gay Disasters, Wanda is in denial, So are you

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

-

Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game. 

On the flight back to the compound, you, Daisy, Vision, and Natasha, played a card game to kill time. You and Daisy, unfortunately, were on the losing side. Natasha, with her ever-sly grin and penchant for mischief, came up with a penalty—whichever team lost had to hold hands for the rest of the day. 

The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you. Initially, you thought getting out of her way would give her the space she needs after you revealed to her that you willingly participated in her sex dream—something you still constantly beat yourself up over.

But it has become evident that she requires more than just physical distance; she wants you completely out of her life.

On top of this, despite Daisy having moved out to her own room a week after she put in the requisition, your sleep hasn't improved much. Every time you close your eyes, memories flood in: Wanda's voice, her warmth, even her distinct scent, all haunting your dreams just as vividly as they do during your waking hours. 

The lack of sleep begins to take its toll, especially during training sessions. You're off your game, your reactions slowed, and your focus wavering. It's hard to stay sharp when your brain feels like it's swimming in a haze. 

Natasha, always direct, just told you straight up that you look like hell and that you should get more sleep.

Easier said than done.

One evening, after another training mishap, you finally decide it's time to face the root of your sleeplessness. Clearing matters with Wanda isn't just for your peace of mind now; it's essential for the team's safety.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your thoughts, you make your way to Wanda's quarters. In your hand, a small olive branch: her favorite snacks, hoping it might soften the forthcoming confrontation. As you near her door, the muffled sound of laughter stops you. It's her voice, paired with another's—a voice you don't recognize. 

As you inch closer, discreetly peeking into the slightly ajar door, the scene before you sharpens. The unfamiliar man stands closer to Wanda than anyone has in recent memory. Their laughter, her bright eyes, the casual touch of her hand on his arm—it's evident she's enjoying his company.

But it's not just any company, it looks like a date. And to make matters more intimate (and worse), they're headed into her quarters. The man holds a bottle of wine in one hand, suggesting a night in, and she's leading him, her fingers lightly grazing his as they move.

The snacks in your hand suddenly feel out of place, almost childish in the face of the mature, romantic scene unfolding before you. You spin on your heel, a new mission in mind, and beeline straight for Steve's office. Pushing through the door without knocking, you find him hunched over some paperwork.

“Steve,” you start, your voice edged with urgency. “What's the protocol for late-night visitors?”

He looks up, surprised by the sudden interruption, and takes a moment to process your question. “Well,” he begins, scratching his head, “As long as they're not on any criminal or watch lists, they're allowed in the compound.”

“Even this late?”

Steve's eyes dart away from yours for a moment, his cheeks tinting a soft pink. “We're all adults here,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “As long as they're... respectful and discreet.”

Feeling the sting of frustration boiling over, you grit your teeth, barely getting out a terse “Fine,” before making your way out of his office.

On the way out, your gaze lands on a bottle of wine perched on a shelf, an apparent relic from a past era given the thick dust on its label. Without a second thought, you snatch it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out, rising abruptly from his chair. “That's been aging for decades!”

But you're already gone, the echo of your footsteps a testament to your swift departure. Steve stands still for a moment, listening to the diminishing sound. Shaking his head, he mutters an exasperated, “Kids these days,” before turning back to his desk with a sigh.

–

Draining the entire bottle solo does little to coax sleep. Your healing powers, frustratingly, tend to neutralize the effects of intoxication almost immediately.

Still, you appreciate the brief, fleeting buzz. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the shadows morph and play tricks on your eyes. You consider maybe you should've joined Sam on his night flight practices. At least then you'd be physically tired enough to drown out the noise in your head.

Shifting in your bed with a sigh, your thoughts drift to the first time you saw Wanda Maximoff.

Rogers had you cornered, your back on the cold ground, his knee pressing firmly into your chest. The skirmish had been intense, your side versus theirs, and one by one, your allies had been captured or incapacitated. You were the last holdout, defiant to the end.

With Rogers' weight pinning you down, and your arms restrained, you could only tilt your head to the side, ears picking up the sharp, rhythmic clicks of boots against concrete.

Wanda Maximoff made her entrance, and even in your vulnerable position, her presence commanded attention. Those signature boots, the flow of her skirt, the cascade of mahogany hair—all of it painted a picture of power and poise. But it was her eyes that held you—a deep, entrancing gaze that seemed to see right through you.

And now it’s those same eyes that keep you up at night. The same ones that used to lazily open each morning, taking a moment to adjust before locking onto yours, almost lighting up when they did.

And fuck it—you really want to see those eyes right now.

With a sudden surge of boldness, you spring from the bed, with every intention to barge into Wanda’s room and throw out the man from earlier. 

But as you violently yank the door open, you're met with the most unexpected sight: Wanda.

She's standing there, fist raised, poised to knock. The proximity is startling. You can sense the faintest heat coming from her, so intimate it's almost intrusive. Her eyes widen in surprise, but you're too entranced to even process it. Your breath hitches, time seems to slow, and a million thoughts race through your mind.

Before any words can leave your lips, she closes the distance, her hands finding your face as she pulls you into a searing kiss.

Thrown off by the intensity of her kiss, you stagger back a few steps. On instinct, your hands slide down to the back of her thighs, lifting her with ease. She responds instantly, her legs wrapping around your waist, her grip on you tightening. The world blurs for a moment as your focus narrows down to the sensation of her against you.

With a swift kick, the door to your room slams shut, and you quickly reach behind to lock it. Your steps falter when the back of your knees hit the bed, causing both of you to tumble onto the soft mattress. The sudden change in elevation doesn't deter Wanda; she swiftly positions herself, straddling your hips, her hands exploring the contours of your face and neck. 

Drawn to the warmth of her skin, your lips meander down her throat, eliciting soft sounds with every touch. The moment you nip at her pulse point, a deep moan escapes her, its vibrations going straight to your own core.

The sound causes you to pull back slightly. “Wait, Wanda–”

Wanda's brow furrows in annoyance, her crimson lips parting in a soft pout. “Why are you stopping?” she huffs, her tone sultry but also slightly slurred.

That's when you realize it—the faint but unmistakable scent of alcohol on her breath, the slight glossiness of her eyes, and the way her movements, while passionate, are also a tad uncoordinated.

“Wanda, have you been drinking?”

Her head tilts slightly, as if trying to understand the question, her lips parting in a lopsided smile. “Just a little,” she admits, her fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.

You gently cup her face, thumbing away a stray strand of hair. “We shouldn't do this if you're not sober, Wanda.”

“Me being unconscious didn't stop you before,” she hisses, a dark undertone to her voice. The air in the room suddenly grows thick and heavy. Wanda's words, stinging like a slap. 

Your stomach drops, guilt and regret flooding through you. Carefully, you slip from Wanda's hold, swinging your legs off the bed to sit with your back turned to her. That night was something you'd replayed in your mind over and over again, beating yourself up for crossing a line you never should have. The hurt in Wanda's voice only exacerbates the pain.

“Wanda, I—” you start, risking a glance over your shoulder.

“I shouldn't have said that,” Wanda whispers, looking as if she's on the verge of tears. “I'm sorry.”

“No,” you quickly counter, a lump forming in your throat, “You meant that. And you have every right to. It's something we should've confronted a long time ago. Whatever happens next, I'll accept any consequences for my actions.”

Wanda reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder, her voice shaky, “If you're ready, then I'm ready too. I'm not innocent in all of this. I took advantage of the situation as well.”

You shake your head firmly, turning to face her and then grabbing her chin gently, making her eyes meet yours, “No, Wanda. You weren't aware. I was. I knew better. That's on me, not you.”

In response, Wanda dithers, then gently kisses the fingers you have placed under her chin. But she doesn’t stop there. A fire still kindling in her veins, she surges forward to claim your lips once again.

You kiss her back for a fleeting second, getting lost in the softness of her lips. But then you pull back, placing a palm against her chest. “Wanda, you need to sleep. You’re not…We'll talk. I promise, in the morning.”

She sighs, her fight melting away as the weight of the alcohol and exhaustion take over. Relenting, she nods, and you help her get situated under the covers.

You start to arrange some pillows on the floor, intending to make a bed for yourself. But as you're about to lie down, Wanda's sleepy voice stops you.

“Stay with me,” she mumbles. “I've been having trouble sleeping without you. I just... I want you near.”

Drunk Wanda feels like a whole other person, wearing her heart on her sleeve in a way that just makes you want to wrap her up and protect her.

After all that's transpired tonight, you're wary. But seeing her there, curled up and looking so small in that big bed, it's hard to resist. You exhale, "Just for tonight," you murmur, more to yourself than to her.

Climbing into the bed, you maintain a respectful distance at first. But, as minutes tick by, you find Wanda inching closer, until her head is nestled into the crook of your neck. Her warm breath tickles your skin, and you can't help but wrap an arm around her, pulling her close.

With everything that went down tonight, you'd think sleep would be impossible. But with the bed being so comfy and Wanda so close, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. It’s strange how having someone next to you can make things feel a bit better. Even with all that’s happened between you two, Wanda’s still your calm in the storm. 

And you hope, deep down, you're that for her too.

-

The next morning dawns, and you find the space beside you empty.

It's not entirely unexpected.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you notice the other side of the bed is empty. It’s quiet, and the room feels a bit colder than before. Splashing cold water on your face helps you wake up a bit more, but it also makes everything from last night crash back into your mind.

Alright, deep breath. You've got this.

For now, giving Wanda her space feels like the right move. You can't even begin to imagine what's going on in her head. But you–

You've got a pretty clear picture of what you want, and if that means waiting a bit longer for her to figure things out, so be it.

Pulling on some clothes, you decide to bury yourself in work and maybe hit the gym later. A distraction is just what you need right now. But as you leave the room, you can't help but hope that once everything cools down, you and Wanda can finally sort things out. 

Whatever that might look like.

-

The timing couldn't have been worse. Of all the moments for disaster to strike.

The piercing shriek of alarms tears through the compound right before dinner.

It is quickly followed by an earth-shaking rumble. 

The compound is under siege, and this isn't a regular assault. It's planned, strategic, and designed for maximum devastation. The ground quivers beneath you as you scramble to your feet.

Missiles rain down from all directions, their impacts causing blinding explosions and sending shockwaves that rattle the building's foundation. Dust and debris cloud the air, limiting visibility. The familiar hum of the building's defenses rises, but it's evident they're struggling against the barrage.

Steve's voice, steady yet urgent, sounds over the intercom. “All hands on deck! Secure the compound. Natasha, Clint, get the personnel out now.”

You grab your gear and rush out, adrenaline surging. The corridors are chaos—agents, staff, and superheroes all trying to restore order while dodging blasts and the intruders now inside.

You take a sharp turn, making a beeline for Wanda's quarters. As you approach, your heart sinks. The area is a mess of crumbled concrete, twisted metal, and shattered ceilings. The sight is gut-wrenching, and a cold dread fills your chest.

“Wanda!” you shout, your voice raw with fear. Debris crunches under your boots as you race towards the wreckage of her room, trying to find any sign of her.

Distant explosions and shouts echo down the corridor, but they're just background noise to the panic tightening in your chest. You start to dig through the rubble, tossing aside chunks of wall and broken furniture.

“Wanda!” you yell again.

Suddenly, a muffled groan reaches your ears, and you zero in on its source. Frantically clearing away the debris, your hands finally find the familiar fabric of her jacket. Pulling with all your might, you manage to free her from the wreckage.

Her face is smudged with dust, a small cut bleeding on her forehead, but her eyes—those eyes you had lost sleep over—flutter open, meeting yours with a mixture of relief and pain.

“Hey,” she coughs weakly, a small smile forming on her lips despite the situation.

As you reach to help her up, she lets out a sharp, agonized scream that stops you dead in your tracks. Your gaze shifts down, and horror sets in as you spot a length of steel rebar protruding from her side, clearly having pierced through her abdomen. Blood seeps around the intrusion, staining her clothes a dark, foreboding shade of crimson.

“Wanda!” The name escapes your lips in a choked whisper, panic overtaking your every thought. Dropping to your knees beside her, your hands hover above the injury, unsure of what to do. Removing the rebar might cause more damage, but leaving it could be just as lethal.

The anguish in Wanda's eyes is almost too much to bear, tears spilling down her face as she clutches weakly at the protruding metal. “I–It hurts,” she manages to gasp out, her voice trembling.

Distant footsteps grow louder, echoing through the shattered hallways. The approach is too rapid, too relentless. Friend or foe, you can't determine. You don’t have the luxury of time to find out.

With urgency mounting, your eyes, stinging with tears of your own, dart around the destroyed corridor, searching for an exit, a hiding spot, any kind of advantage. But every moment counts. “Hold on, Wanda,” you whisper, your voice thick with desperation. “Just hold on.”

But she's weakening fast. You know you need to act, and quickly. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you place one hand above the wound and the other below. “I'm going to pull it out, okay? I need you to stay with me.”

With a nod from Wanda, albeit a weak one, you summon all your strength, both physical and emotional, and in one swift motion, you remove the metal. Blood flows more freely now, and Wanda's scream fills the corridor, echoing off the walls.

Using your powers, you immediately start to heal the wound, the warm glow surrounding your hands as they work their magic on her injured torso. Wanda's once steady heartbeat is now all over the place under your touch. 

The process is agonizingly slow, and every second feels like an eternity. You literally feel your powers leaving your body, as you concentrate on focusing all your energy on the gaping hole on Wanda’s stomach. You dig deep, pulling out energy you didn't even know you had. It's like trying to stay afloat when every wave tries to drag you under. But bit by bit, you watch the wound start to close, the bleeding halting, and the raw edges of her skin fusing back together.

Wanda's shaky breaths slowly stabilize, but her complexion remains worryingly pale. By the time you've healed the wound to just a scar, you're on the brink of passing out, every bit of energy sapped from you.

“Y/N…” Wanda weakly squeezes your hand. “You... you saved me again,” she says, her voice a raspy whisper.

Your head leans into hers, and you muster a faint smile. “Always for you,” you whisper back. 

You both start leaning in, faces just a few inches away, when–

When suddenly, a sharp pain lances through your chest, quickly followed by another agonizing jolt in your stomach. Not so long ago, you shrugged off a sniper's bullet like it was nothing. But now, these bullets burn, and the shock of not being invincible all the time hits you harder than the actual shots.

Wanda's eyes, previously filled with gratitude, are now wide with horror. The transition from relief to shock to rising fury is evident. Her eyes blaze a menacing shade of red, her powers swelling with her emotions.

“You... you were bulletproof,” she stammers, a trembling hand reaching out to you.

“I thought I was,” you choke out, blood pooling in your mouth and trickling down the side of your lips.

Your strength is fading fast, and everything's starting to go fuzzy. All around, the place is falling apart, but there's this sudden burst of red energy. 

Wanda. 

She's letting it all out, and the power's intense. 

The last thing you hear, right before everything goes black, is Wanda's voice, raw and choked with emotion, screaming your name. “Y/N!”

[fear-is-truth]

WARNINGS: mdni﹒fem!reader﹒bloodplay ִֶָ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐ A/N: for @acrosstheunivcrse bc i agree. we need more fics about the countess

THE COUNTESS stands before you, a terrifying yet breathtaking sight—long platinum blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, covering her nude body like a veil. blood-red lips contrast sharply against pale, almost luminescent white skin, a living portrait of perfection. she resembles a marble statue, too flawless to be real, but nothing about her is soft. her eyes, piercing and cold, lock onto yours with a fury that makes your blood turn to ice. your lover always had this way of making you feel insignificant and powerless under her gaze, her beauty.

“you let him touch you,” elizabeth breathes, lips barely moves as she speaks. her velvety voice is sweet like honey laced with venom, the deceptively calm tone holds a promise of pain. “you didn’t stop him.” anger emanates from her like a stench—she’s already slit the throat of the man foolish enough to try and seduce you, but clearly that wasn’t enough. you still have a price to pay.

eyes narrowing in naked contempt, her gloved hand moves up toward your throat—deadly metal-clad claws gleaming in the low light, glinting gold with menace. with one swift movement, she pushes you back onto the bed, her body following yours with predatory grace akin to a jaguar, straddling you effortlessly. she tilts her head slightly, platinum waves falling to one side and revealing her voluptuous breasts.

“i think it’s time you remembered who you belong to.”

her claws hover just above your collarbone, the sharp edges grazing your skin, teasing in a fashion reminiscent of cats toying with a doomed little mouse. slowly, elizabeth presses down, the first cut shallow but enough to draw blood. the pain is immediate and sharp, but it’s the way she does it—cold yet strangely erotic—that sends a thrill of both fear and arousal through your body.

with steady hands, she carves the letters into your skin—k… i… t… t… a concentrated smirk tugging on her lips as she draws the word out in jagged strokes. “kitten,” almost purring the word as she watches the blood rise to the surface, painting the letters crimson. swiftly, her mouth descends to your neck, lips grazing on the fresh wound, tongue sliding along the cut as she savours the blood that seeped from the letters. she drinks deeply as you gasp and writhe beneath her.

when she pulls away, her chin is stained with crimson, and you stare at each other for a moment before she smashes her lips against yours. the kiss is fierce, angry, and possessive—her tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste the sweet, metallic tang of your own blood. holding you in place as she devoured you in animalistic hunger.

when she finally pulls back, her fingers trace the fresh wound below your collarbone, her expression softening just a fraction as she examines her handiwork. “now you won’t forget,” her thumb brushes lovingly over the letters again, the fresh sting making you flinch. “you’re mine, kitten.”

[wandamaximoffthescarlettwitch]

You break the rules and become a hero, I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn't seem fair.

[meduzza13]

What makes you think that talking about it would bring me comfort? The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again. (с) 💔

Art Masterlist

[gingiesworld]

Hey my awesome dudes.

In Obsessions, do we want Y/N and Wanda to be together in the end or have Y/N have someone else Endgame. Maybe Daisy since she is going to make an appearance in the next part. I'm actually enjoying the toxicity of the relationship between Wanda and Y/N and there will me more toxic smut between the two before the end since I haven't quite decided on the ending to this just yet.

[laiwalane]

Fandoms / characters I'll write for

TV SHOWS:

American horror story

any ships (includes reader or ships between two characters)

characters (my favs):

- Maddison Montgomery

- Tate Langdon (any Evan Peters char.)

- Michael Langdon/Xavier Plimpton

- Cordelia Fox (Any Sarah Paulson char.)

- Misty Day

- Mallory

- Countess Elizabeth ofc

The walking dead

Characters

- Rick Grimes

- Carl Grimes

- Carol 💥

- Maggie

- Glenn

- Owen (he's hot lmao)

- Negan

-Beth

- Michonne

- Daryl

-Philip Blake (the governor)

The boys

characters

-homelander

-soldier boy

- hugh

-ANY FEMALE CHARACTER

Breaking bad

characters

-Jesse pinkman

- Andrea

- Jane Margolis

MR ROBOT

characters

- Elliot Alderson

- Tyrell 💥

- Johanna

- Darlene

- Dominique

house of the Dragon

everybody who is sexy

Hannibal

-any characters/pairings

(I know it will be impossible to write smth without gay ships so...I will do it :))

FILMS:

-American psycho

-The hunger games

characters:

- Katniss Everdeen

- Peeta

- Finnick Odair

-Coryo Snow (young ofc)

-Finch (that cute ginger girl from part 1)💥

-Tigriss

- Inglourious Basters

characters

-Hans Landa💥

-Dieter Hellstrom💥

-Bridget

- Shoshanna

-Aldo Raine

-Batman Begins/any other parts

characters:

-Bruse Wayne

-Jonathan Crane 💥

- Miranda Tate

-John Wick

(almost any characters)

Anime

-Jujutsu kaisen

characters:

- Maki Zenin💥

- Mai Zenin

-Nobara Kugisaki

-Gojo

- Nanami Kento

- Riko Amanai💥

- MeiMei

-Tsukumo Yuki💥

-Chosou

-Shingeki no kyojin

characters

- Eren Jaeger

-Floch Forster

- Armin Arlert

- Mikasa Ackerman

- Petra Ral💥

- Hange Zoe💥

- Zeke Yeager

-Pieck Finger

-Anie Leonhart

- Sasha Blouse

-Kumetsu no yaiba

only female characters

AHHH THAT'S A LOOOOT BUT IT'S NOT EVERYTHING

well I would like to add that if you fan of these aktors/aktresses, I'll be writing fanfiction with any of their characters

- Angelina Jolie

- Christian Bale

- Jennifer Lawrence

-Aaron Taylor-Johnson

-Cillian Murphy

- Bill Skarsgard

- Elizabeth Olsen

- August Diehl

- Benedict Samuel

💥- means I find this character hot lmao

[marchsfreakshow]

The Locket With A Masquerade {Tate Langdon x Reader}

You own a locket, you weren't sure who originally owned it until Tate helped you find who was in the picture.

Fluffy, and a bit short. 💜

First Tate fic, so I apologize in advance if it sounds ooc, but I love this idea.

Your perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"What are you fiddling with?" Tate asked. He turned around so we were facing each other after cuddling for a bit. Then he gently held my locket. It was a simple oval shape and had a fuzzy picture or drawing in it.

"Not sure." I got it when I was 10, and got it adjusted as I aged, so it never accidentally choked me. He stared at it for a bit, sort of in awe at the actual locket itself. "It is a pretty necklace I'll admit."

"It looks beautiful on you."

"Shut up." I gently pushed him away out of embarrassment, and looked away from him, out the window instead. He just smiled and moved towards me more. The window was foggy and it was difficult to see out of but, it was nice anyway.

"Do you know who is on the locket?" Tate asked, wrapping his fingers around it again. We faced each other again, and at this point, I was practically on top of him, not that either of us minded. But I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck, snuggling into him.

"Let's look."

"nah.."

"Why not? It could be fun."

"Sleepy."

"Come on, let's go have a look." I begrudgingly rolled off him, and grabbed my small laptop, opening it up, and letting it turn on. The rain was turning into a storm, so I lightly groaned.

"A storm usually means the wifi is gonna go nuts." Rolling my eyes, I checked the wifi, and it seemed to be okay, so I clicked on Internet Explorer, staring blankly at it. "Where do we start?" I mentioned, turning over to look at Tate, who was in his little world.

"Helloooo? Mr Langdon sir?" He shook his head, reached behind my neck and took the locket off. Then he opened it and studied the picture.

"A woman." Tate started. Very helpful. "From...the 20's? I think?"

"Very helpful Tate. Millions of women lived through the 1920's." Despite my negativity, I searched for a registry and looked for women who lived in California in the 20's. "Is there anything else you can see? I know the picture is very blurry."

"...look up Rudolph Valentino."

"Valentino? Uh, okay." As I looked him up in the registery, I saw no clues. "Why?"

"The Woman in Black! The one who always visited Valentino's grave. Have you never heard of her?"

I shook my head, then laughed at the prospect of constantly visiting someone's grave. "Apparently not." But I decided to search for her anyway.

A few minutes of silent searching went by. "Elizabeth Johnson. Born 1902, death year unmarked." I muttered, running my finger along the information it gave me. "A background actor on the set of The Sheik and worked with Valentino."

"Do you think this is her?"

"There aren't any photos of her to reference." But I shrugged my shoulders and carried on deep-diving the internet for a few minutes as Tate cuddled himself up next to me, resting his cute head of blonde hair on my stomach. As I read an article about Valentino, I kissed Tate's head, so he knew I appreciated him. "Is this her?" I asked soon enough, bringing up a picture of a woman standing next to Valentio and the other actors. Blonde hair, crimped up, the famously thin eyebrows from the '20s, and wonderful, red lips. Her eyes had something. A light we both liked to look at.

Tate then looked at the fuzzy picture, and the face structure was as similar as we could make out. We both switched between the picture in the locket and the photo in the Google search. "I think so." He smiled, closing the locket and putting it back around my neck. "You're so much more beautiful than her."

"She's gorgeous, I couldn't compare to her. I do wonder how she died though. And when."

"...No you're much prettier." Tate grinned, closing the laptop and putting it on the floor right by us.

"Shut up." I chuckled quietly, kissing Tate and bringing him close. Elizabeth looked wonderful, in the picture, and in the locket. I started to wonder about my connection to her if I had one at all. My mum never spoke to me about my family or our history. Or if she just put a random picture of a 1920s actor in the locket to make it seem like I was interesting.

Tate didn't seem to mind at all. He didn't seem to hear any negativity I said about myself at all. But I stared at him while he lay on my chest, sleeping. It felt cheesy to think that he was like Rudolph Valentino, but, not an actor. He slept peacefully, but I decided to place the locket around his neck. It made him, and I thought it fitted him.

"I love you, Tate," I whispered to him.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶

Tag requests: @strangerthings420

[itsss4t4n]

Who I write for /Rules

Masterlist

I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 19 now and write very rarely) but I really wanna do it again.

So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))

Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.

I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out or somewhat implied stuff tho).

My writing will be mostly pg 13 but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics, and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.

Please be nice and have manners when requesting.

Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders). If its not included I will default it as gender neutral. :)))

I also write poly relationships and AUs.

Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher, love triangles.

(Also english isnt my first language, and even though, in my opinion, i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)

Heartbreak high

Harper Mclean

Quinni Ghallager-Jones

Darren Rivers

Spencer "Spider" White

Anthony "Ant" Vaughn

Malakai Mitchel

Sally face

Sal Fisher

Travis Phelps (male or gn readers)

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campbell

Harry Potter

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Charly Weasley

Bill Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Olliver Wood

Draco Malfoy (+6th year only)

Theodore Nott (+6th year only)

Marauders

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Regulus Black

Evan Rosier

Barty Crouch jr

Pandora Rosier

Lilly Evans

Marlene Mckinnon

Hogwarts Legacy

Sebastian Sallow

Ominus Gaunt

Gareth Weasley

Poppy Sweetings

Imelda Reyes

Die drei fragezeichen / the three investigators

Bob Andrews

Peter Shaw

Justus Jonas

Skinny Norris

Twilight

Jasper Hale

Emmet Cullen

Carlisle Cullen

Esme Cullen

Rosalie Hale

Alice Cullen

Sam Uley

Paul Lahote

Charlie Swan

Leah Clearwater

Jacob Black

Pjo

Let me know if you want book or show

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Luke Castellan

Clarrisse La Rue

Selena Beauregard

Charles Beckendorf

Ethan Nakamura

Nico di Angelo (no romantic fem readers)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Will Solace

Travis Stoll

Connor Stoll

Hazel Levesque (no romantic)

Jason Grace

Leo Valdez

Piper Mclean

Magnus chase

Magnus Chase

Samirah al Abbas ( no romantic)

Alex Fierro

Blitzen

Hearthstone

Mallory Keen

TJ (Thomas Jefferson jr)

MCU (Avengers)

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Sam Wilson

Natasha Romanoff

Yelena Belova

Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)

MJ

Wanda Maximof

Piedro Maximof

Clint Barton

Scott Lang

Stephen Strange

Kate Bishop

MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)

Peter Quill

Daredevil (Season 1)

Matt Murdock

Karen Page

James Wesley

X-men universe

Deadpool

Wolverine

Francis

Xavier

Mystic

Angel

Kurt

Venom

Eddie Brock

DC

Harley Quinn

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson (any version, young justice, robin, nightwing,etc.)

Wally West (youngJustice)

Artemis (young justice)

Roy Harper (young justice)

Disney Descendants

Mal

Evie

Carlos devil

Jay

Benjamin Beast

Chad Charming

Audrey Rose

Jane

Lonnie Fa

Uma

Harry Hook

Gil

Rise of red

James Hook

Hades

Bridget

Ella

Cloe

Red

Morgie

Kingsmen

Eggsy

Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)

Bette Whitlaw

Oren Lennox

Shane Madej (no romantic fem readers)

June Park

Jennifers Body

Jennifer Check

Colin Gray

Ever after high

all characters

Redacted Audios

(no x reader, just ships)

literally all characters

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (4/?)

Part Summary: There's a new recruit who seems to have taken a liking to you. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened.

Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, Gay disasters

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Part Five | Series Masterlist

-

The newest recruit, Daisy Johnson, seems to have taken a liking to you.

At least, that's what Wanda Maximoff has observed since Daisy's inclusion earlier this week.

From the corner of her eye, Wanda constantly catches the newbie stealing glances at you during training, meals, and even debriefing sessions. It's not that she keeps tabs on you or anything, but she can't help but notice when you catch someone’s attention, especially when that someone seems to be nearly everywhere you are.

In every training session, Wanda notes Daisy choosing to partner up with you or standing close by during briefings. Even in the more relaxed moments within the compound, Daisy seems irresistibly drawn to you. Wanda doesn't miss how Daisy occasionally throws prolonged glances your way, or how she laughs a tad too enthusiastically at something you say.

And it doesn't help that you and she walk on eggshells around each other since your confession in your old cell.

Neither of you has made any attempts to talk to the other again. Not even a glance, as if pretending the other doesn't exist will make that fateful night disappear. But for Wanda, the more she tries to push it out of her mind, the more sharply it edges back in, refusing to be forgotten.

She can't help but wonder: Was it wrong of her to move like that in her sleep? And were you out of line for not waking her up right away? 

And more importantly: Were you so repulsed by it that you chose a prison cell over sharing her bed?

All these questions keep swimming in her mind, to the point where she has considered going to whoever handles this sort of stuff at the compound—kind of like an HR Department, but for Avengers. Perhaps a course on understanding boundaries might help you both move past this and start anew.

But then again, addressing it means dealing with it, and right now, just avoiding the whole mess seems so much easier.

As Wanda turns a corner in one of the compound's sprawling hallways, her eyes catch sight of you and Daisy. You’re both laughing, heads thrown back, not a care in the world. Wanda's eyes involuntarily narrow at the sight, taking note of the negligible distance between you two. Daisy's hand is resting lightly on your arm, fingers dancing along the fabric of your shirt as she emphasizes a point in her story.

Wanda tries to walk past nonchalantly, yet can't seem to dispel the feelings that bubble up each time she sees you with Daisy.

It's maddening. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened. 

But they aren't. 

And she does.

-

Wanda's patience is tested to its limits one Saturday afternoon. 

Tasked with joining Sam to whip up dinner for the team's weekly movie night, she's diligently chopping vegetables in the expansive kitchen when Daisy sidles up to her.

“Hey, uh, Wanda, right?” Daisy begins, a casual tone to her voice.

Wanda doesn’t even look up as she answers, “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something about Y/N?”

Wanda's grip on the knife tightens just a fraction, her posture stiffening. “I think it’s better if you ask Vision–he monitors all of us even more closely than the cameras we have everywhere.”

As the words leave Wanda's mouth, Vision, who’s been quietly tinkering with a device on the other side of the kitchen, looks up suddenly, his usually stoic face showing a hint of surprise.

“I assure you, I do no such thing,” he starts, his tone a touch defensive. “Monitoring everyone is not part of my programming or my personal interests.”

Daisy raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Sure, Vis. Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

Vision clears his throat, looking somewhat flustered, “It is not a 'hobby' of mine.”

Wanda can't help but smirk slightly at Vision's discomfort, her attention briefly diverted from the awkwardness with Daisy. “It's just a joke, Vision. Relax.”

He gives a curt nod, turning his attention back to the device in his hand, though he remains noticeably quiet.

Daisy chuckles lightly, but her curiosity remains unsated. “Anyway, back to Y/N?” She prompts, looking expectantly at Wanda. “Steve mentioned that if anyone on the team knows Y/N best, it'd be you, considering you two shared a room.”

Fucking Steve.

Wanda takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She finally glances up to meet Daisy's eyes, her expression guarded. “What do you want to know?”

“Is Y/N... you know, single? And what do you think of them?”

Wanda's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes sharpening immediately. She places the knife down on the countertop with more force than necessary. “Why do you ask?”

Sam whistles softly, making it obvious he's eavesdropping. “Damn, getting intense over here,” he comments with a grin, making no effort to hide his amusement.

Daisy shoots him an exasperated look, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Trying to have a conversation here, Wilson.”

Ignoring Sam's teasing, Wanda presses, “I just want to know why you're asking.”

Daisy sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “We've been talking a lot, and I was just... curious.”

Sam, not missing a beat, chimes in, “Curious or interested?"

Daisy rolls her eyes. "Nosy much?"

Wanda reaches for the shredder and starts grating all the remaining vegetables rather aggressively.

Sam laughs before lifting the spatula to his lips to sample the soup he’s making. “Just trying to get the lay of the land.”

“Why don't you focus on your soup, Sam?” Wanda retorts, though her eyes never leave her task.

Sam smirks, catching the hint of jealousy in Wanda's tone, and decides to push just a little further. “You know, Wanda, if you have something to say about Y/N, now's the time.”

Wanda's eyes flash red for a brief moment. Sam holds his hands up in mock surrender, but the smirk doesn’t leave his face.

Daisy looks between them in confusion. 

Taking a moment, Wanda sets the shredder aside and faces Daisy squarely. “Y/N almost risked their life to save mine. If you're looking for a testament to their character, well, actions like that are rare to come by.”

“And as for Y/N’s relationship status,” she continues, a bit reluctantly, “I believe they're single.”

Daisy's gaze becomes gentle, a dreamy quality entering her eyes. “That's... truly heroic,” she whispers, almost to herself. Wanda feels a sudden urge to throw up.

She then flashes a grateful smile at Wanda. “Thanks, Wanda. That means a lot coming from you.”

Wanda merely nods before clearing her throat. “Well, now that that's settled, could someone pass the salt?”

It’s Sam who hands it over, but not before saying, “Try not to add too much. We wouldn't want dinner to be as salty as some people's moods.”

-

Tony is, unsurprisingly, first in line, eagerly eyeing the roasted vegetables. “If the taste is half as good as the smell, we’re in for a treat tonight.”

Steve chuckles, replying, “I think we can trust Wanda and Sam's culinary skills by now.”

Natasha and Clint are engrossed in a deep conversation about an upcoming mission, while Bruce discusses some new upgrades with Tony. Vision, for his part, is explaining to Peter the intricacies of using Wanda's food processor.

As the chatter continues, Wanda moves to retrieve the centerpiece of the dinner: a golden-brown roasted chicken. She feels everyone's eyes on her, awaiting the moment the chicken will land on the table. However, her gaze is involuntarily drawn to the table where she sees you and Daisy sitting next to each other, laughing about something. 

In that split second of distraction, her fingers graze the scalding metal rack of the oven. A sharp hiss escapes her lips, the sudden pain evident on her face. Dropping the oven mitts, she mutters a quick “Excuse me” and dashes off to the nearest bathroom, intending to run the burnt area under cold water.

You notice her quick exit and, after a brief moment of hesitation, quietly follow her. As you near the bathroom, the sound of running water reaches your ears.

Without knocking, you enter. Wanda is cradling her hand, trying to soothe the burn. 

Your voice is soft with concern when you speak, “Wanda? Let me help.”

Wanda quickly pulls her hand away from the water, her eyes widening as she registers your arrival. “I’m fine,” she snaps, her posture tensing further. Water drips from her fingers onto the porcelain sink.

You take a hesitant step forward, your intent clear. “I can heal it. Just let me—”

“I said I'm fine,” she interrupts, her voice sharp. “Sometimes it's good to feel pain, you know, heal the natural way. Not everything needs a... quick fix.” She glances pointedly at you, an obvious jab at your abilities.

Your eyes narrow slightly at her comment, but you keep your emotions in check. “It's not about the quick fix, Wanda. It's about helping someone in pain, even if that someone is stubbornly pushing everyone away.”

She sighs, her defenses visibly waning. “Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be out there with Daisy?”

“What’s Daisy got to do with any of this?”

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, averting her gaze. Even if she has an answer ready, she's not sure she'd want to voice it.

With a sharp exhale, your frustration bubbles over. 

“Fine,” you say tersely, pointing at her burned hand. “Let it scar then. See if I care.” 

Moving swiftly, you leave the bathroom without waiting for her response.

Wanda stays there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths and trying to steady herself. When she finally decides to rejoin the team for dinner, she notices the empty spot beside Daisy. You're gone, probably to your room.

Regret coils in her stomach. She didn’t mean for things to escalate like that, especially when all you were trying to do was help. 

-

She hasn't felt this anxious in a long time.

It reminds her of the days after she lost everything that truly mattered.

Checking that everyone is probably asleep, Wanda takes a deep breath and heads towards your room. Her mind races, trying to figure out what to say, how to apologize. 

She stops in front of your room and then gently raps on the door, listening intently for any sign of movement inside. “Y/N?” she calls out hesitantly. She doesn't expect the door to open immediately, and when it does, it's not you who answers. 

Instead, Daisy stands there, looking a little startled too.

“You…” Wanda hisses slowly before she can catch herself.

Daisy quickly registers Wanda's reaction and raises her hands in a placating manner. “Oh, right. Sorry, this must be weird. My apartment had a plumbing issue, a flood actually. Since I'm joining the team permanently, I made a request for a new room. But until that's sorted, Y/N offered me theirs.”

Wanda's insides churn with a jealousy she can't quite place, but she masks it swiftly, painting on a polite smile. “And where's Y/N now?” she asks, her voice deceptively calm.

Daisy bites her lip, appearing somewhat embarrassed. “They're asleep,” she admits. Stepping aside, she reveals you, nestled in a makeshift bed on the floor, blankets arranged around you for some semblance of comfort.

Wanda's eyes soften at the sight of you, but her heart also tightens in anger. You've given up your bed, your comfort, for Daisy. You’re doing for someone else what she’s done for you. It feels like an invasion of something she thought she exclusively shared with you.

Daisy shifts, catching Wanda's stare. “They wouldn’t listen to me,” she explains, a bit embarrassed. “Kept saying it's fine and that I should take the bed.”

Wanda just nods, a tightness in her voice. “Sounds like them, alright.”

Trying to ease the tension, Daisy adds, “Y/N always talks about you, you know. In a good way. Maybe you two should just... chat.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow, a little surprised. “They do?”

Daisy chuckles. "Yeah. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Night."

“Night,” Wanda murmurs, still looking at you.

Once Daisy’s gone, Wanda hesitates. Part of her wants to barge in, shake you awake, and have that long overdue talk. Instead, she absentmindedly touches the burn on her hand, its sting a reminder of how you tried to help her earlier. It's jarring to think that you, even after avoiding each other for days, were ready to heal her.

And damn, it hurts. Not the burn, but the realization of how much she misses you. 

-

Wanda doesn’t get any chances to talk to you for the next several days because you–along with Natasha, Daisy and Vision are called away to a mission. 

Each day you’re away, Wanda feels the weight of anxiety pressing down on her chest. She can’t help but worry, replaying every worst-case scenario in her mind. She catches herself multiple times pacing by the control room, asking for updates, or staring out at the landing pad, waiting for the quinjet to return.

When word finally arrives that the quinjet is en route back to the compound, Wanda finds herself in the hangar before she’s even consciously made the decision to be there. Steve stands next to her, his face betraying his own relief. A few other team members have gathered too, all awaiting the return of their comrades.

The roar of the quinjet’s engines fills the air as it makes its descent. As the ramp lowers, Wanda's eyes scan the disembarking figures, and they lock onto yours. You look a little worn, a fresh bruise marring your cheek—oddly enough, one you've chosen not to heal. But beyond that, you seem okay.

Her heart swells with relief.

You seem to pause for a second, looking genuinely shocked to see Wanda amongst those waiting. For a moment, your eyes lock. She offers a tentative smile, full of hope, and it seems you're about to approach her. But then, as you step further out of the quinjet, Daisy appears at your side. The way she comfortably intertwines her fingers with yours sends a sharp pang through Wanda's heart and her smile falters.

Steve claps his hands together, attempting to reign in the team's focus. “Alright, debrief. How did it go?”

Natasha, with a deadpan expression, shoots back, “Could’ve gone smoother if you’d packed me a flask, Rogers.”

Steve smirks, shaking his head. “Alright, Romanoff. Just don’t make us wait too long.”

As you approach Wanda, your expression gives away nothing. “Hey,” you murmur, voice neutral. But Wanda’s eyes have darted down to where your hand is connected with Daisy's. Her eyes harden, and when she meets your gaze, they’ve become unreceptive.

Misreading the tightening of Wanda's features as coldness, your frown deepens. You'd thought some time apart might've helped ease the strain between you two, but guess not.

Just as you're about to say something to her–maybe an explanation as to why you’re holding Daisy’s hand–Daisy gives a playful tug on your hand, breaking the moment. “Come on,” she chirps. “Let's head in. I heard there's pizza, and I intend to eat more slices than you.”

You allow Daisy to pull you along, throwing one last glance at Wanda over your shoulder, wishing she'd say something–anything. 

But Wanda's back is already turned to you. Her posture rigid, fists clenched at her sides, the knuckles going white. In that moment, Wanda is making a silent vow to herself, one of emotional self-preservation.

She walks away, her heels clicking against the ground with each firm and decisive step. Deep down, the walls she'd slowly been dismantling brick by brick in the face of a potential future with you were being hastily reconstructed. 

She’s survived worse things.

Of course, she’ll survive you.

[catoslvt]

James Patrick March x Reader

You were a massive celebrity in James' time. You mainly starred in horrors, which is why he loves you so much.

Elizabeth's (the countess') big sister.

James and the countess were never together. They were only bestfriends because James spoke to her to try get close to you.

Moves extremely quickly. Tw murders etc.

"Well, trust me, I have so many clothes I've saved for you!" She yells.

I stand infront of the receptionist with a smile.

"What can I do for you?" The short stubby woman with glasses who looks no older than my own mom looked before she passed asks, and I smile at her.

"I have a room booked actually, under the name Y/n Johnson." I say with a smile, and she gasps.

"You're Elizabeth's sister? I thought.. I thought you died years ago." The woman gasps and I shake my head.

"It's easy to fake a death, and then years later bring forward a new 'identity' as someone who looks identical to your former self." I tell her with a chuckle, and she nods before she turns around and picks up a key from the wall behind her and carefully gives me it.

"Would you like me to tell Elizabeth that you're here?" She then quizzes, and I nod.

"Tell her to come to my room." I say with a smile before I walk off towards the elevator, not needing to bother with any luggage, because I don't need it, Elizabeth told me she was plenty of clothes I can borrow.

I don't even need to unlock the door of my room, as it's already cracked open slightly, and as I push open the door, I see Elizabeth sitting on the bed, facing the door with a man I can only assume is either James her bestfriend or one of her many boyfriends.

"Bit overpacked, don't you think?" Elizabeth coos and I just laugh.

"Elizabeth, it's been so long." I say as I go to take a step closer to her, but the man quickly bounces off of the bed and stands in front of me, holding his hand out for me to grab.

"Y/n, I love your work. I'm James." He says, and I grab his hand to shake it, being slightly attracted to his old New York accent, and I smile, remembering when I used to have one of those, but instead of shaking my hand, he raises it up to his lips leaving a small kiss on it as he continues to stare at me and I feel myself flushing a slight shade of red and Elizabeth stands up, quickly swatting him away.

"James! What did I say!" She exclaims as she pulls me into a hug.

"I wish I never let you leave." She says and I laugh as I hug back.

"Don't worry, you've got me forever now." I tell her, and she pulls away from the hug, her hands remaining on my shoulders though.

"What does that mean?" She asks with a small laugh, but her face looks extremely concerned.

"I'm putting acting behind me, I mean, I've been doing it for much longer than any actor ever, I had to stop eventually." I tell her and her face drops.

"You can't kill yourself!" She yells, and I stare at her. It wouldn't change anything if I did, I mean I'd turn into a ghost, I'd just have less freedom.

"No, I'm just staying here now, starting my eternal peace." I say with a small laugh and her face quickly relaxes.

"I'm glad you picked here to start it." She tells me and I nod.

"Where else would I have picked?" I softly say, and she smiles again before hugging me.

"So, where's your boyfriend? I have to meet him." I ask with a small nudge and her face turns into a small smirk.

"There's more than one at the moment." She says with an evil grin and I gasp.

"I can't even get one boyfriend. You're over here more than one!" I yell and she smiles.

"Will you be joining us at the fashion show tonight y/n? I haven't got a date yet." James asks from beside us and I shrug.

"I didn't exactly bring anything to wear." I tell him with a small laugh and Elizabeth gasps.

I sit on a chair in front of Elizabeth as she does my makeup, taking time to makesure its perfect, the fashionshow isn't for hours, but Elizabeth and I have a history of getting over dressed far too early.

"Do you like your dress? I waited decades to give you it, literally." She says with a small laugh as she blends out the eyeshadow on my eyelids, and she pulls away for a quick moment to allow me to look at the dress.

It's a beautiful, deep, shimmery red, it's not too long and it's not too short, Elizabeth is doing some red makeup to match it too, it's going to be perfect for the fashion show.

"I love it, thank you." I say with a smile before she moves closer with the makeup brush, and I close my eyes.

"Y/n, I'm assuming you're my date tonight. You didn't protest against me." James says from Elizabeth's bed across the room, and I go to open my eyes to look at him but I remember Elizabeth is doing my eyeshadow so I quickly stop myself.

"Yeah, sure." I state with a small smile.

"I suppose I should go get ready then." He says, and I can hear Elizabeth's bed rustle.

"No, James, don't leave. Y/n and I can help you pick out an outfit." Elizabeth calls and I hear him let out a small chuckle.

"Is that so?" He asks, and I can just feel the smirk radiating off of him, and I find myself smiling at his voice again. It's extremely attractive, and I miss when every man around me had one.

Only a few minutes later, I feel Elizabeth remove the brush from my eyes and clap her hands.

"That's you done." She says, and I open my eyes and smile at her before turning to the mirror across from us and gasping.

"I look beautiful Elizabeth thank you." I say with a massive smile spread across my face as I stand up and walk towards her bed, taking a seat next to James, who pulls a pocket watch out of his blazer pocket and stares at it confused.

"It seems we have less time than we thought." He tells us as he shows me his pocket watch and my eyes widen in shock, the fashion show starts in forty minutes.

"How long do we have?" Elizabeth asks as a man walks into the room.

"That's Donovan." James whispers to me and I nod.

"You've got forty minutes babe, you better hurry." He says before he turns to stare at James and I, and James quickly stands up from the bed and turns to me.

"Y/n, will you help me get ready seeing as Elizabeth can't?" He asks, and I stand up and nod, following him down to his room. That's dimly lit by a single lamp.

"Well, what colour of suit should I wear?" He asks as he stares at me.

"Black suit with a red tie, you know, so it matches my dress." I answer, and his eyes light up as he nods, before he motions over to his wardrobe.

"You can pick, my dear." He states, and I slowly walk over to his wardrobe, admiring the amount of blazers and ties he has.

I pick out a simple black suit and a red tie that's the same colour as my dress and I hand them to him and he smirks.

"You have a good eye for fashion." He compliments, and I nod with a small smile before clears his throat.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to change." He slowly says before he walks off to his bathroom, closing the door behind him, only seconds before a ginger older woman walks in, and let's out a small 'Oh!' When she sees me.

"Who are you? Does Mr March know you're here?" She gasps, rather loudly, and James steps out of the bathroom fully clothed in his suit as he approaches me, standing behind me and placing his arms on my shoulders.

"Mrs Evers, this is y/n. She's my date for the fashion show tonight." James explains, and Mrs Evers just nods.

"You both look wonderful." I hear her say as I watch as her face changes into a more jealous look, you know, being an actor for almost a century is good because you can tell people's emotions really easily.

"Oh, well, you two should get going now then. There's a large queue to get seats." She tells us, and James just tightens his grip on my shoulders as he guides me out of the room, where he then walks beside me and links his arm with mine, and I look up at him to see him already staring down at me with a large smirk on his face.

"So, who are you?" Elizabeth's boyfriend Donovan asks, and I stare at Elizabeth with a smile.

"Elizabeth's big sister." I say as I motion at her and Donovan quickly gasps as he stares at Elizabeth.

"You didn't tell me you had a sister!" He yells and she nods.

"I thought you knew." She argues before the lights turn off all around us, and the only lights now only face the runway when the first model walks down the runway and James scoffs at her.

"I would much rather watch you walk down the runway." He whispers in my ear, and I turn bright red and smile at him.

"Is that true?" I coo as I turn my head to face him, now realising our faces are only inches from each other. James lets out a quiet chuckle as his gaze swaps between my eyes and my lips.

"As true as it could be." He whispers, and I just raise my eyebrows at him before turning back to the runway, watching all of the models.

After Tristans whole episode, the rest of the fashion show gets cancelled, so Elizabeth, James, Donovan, and I make our way to the bar and I can't help but gasp at how beautiful the hotel actually is, now that I'm paying attention to it.

"Is this still the original model of the hotel?" I ask James as we all sit in a booth together, Elizabeth and Donovan, on one side whilst James and I sit on the other side.

"Indeed it is, do you like it?" He asks and I nod my head as I stare around.

"It's beautiful." I tell him, and he smiles proudly.

"Hey, beautiful." A gruff man says to someone at the table, and we all look up at him only to see his eyes burning through me.

"Hi?" I say confused.

"How about you ditch your friends and come with me? I can give you a much better time than this." He coos, and I scrunch my nose up, slightly revolted.

"No thanks, I have a date." I tell him with a smile as James wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"Cmon? That's your date, you can do much better." He man scoffs and Elizabeth lets out a small laugh as James clears his throat.

"Can we have a talk in the bathroom, you know. Man to man?" James asks, and the man shrugs, so I slide out the booth, allowing James to exit.

"I'll be back in a moment, dear." He says with a smile before he walks off, the man following him.

James, in fact, was not back in a moment. It's been almost half an hour, and I begin to tap my fingers against the table, getting slightly impatient.

"Where is he?" I ask Elizabeth, and she just shrugs.

"I'll go check for you." Donovan says as he climbs over Elizabeth and begins walking in the direction of the male bathrooms, and Elizabeth lets out a small laugh as she points over at the glasses at the bar.

"Is that colour familiar?" She asks because the glasses aren't clear, and I just shrug, can a colour be familiar?

"The glasses are the colour of your eyes, James got them specially made because he loved your movies so much." Elizabeth tells me as a smirk grows on her face.

"Really?" I gasp, and she nods with a smile before Donovan climbs back over Elizabeth in the booth.

"He wasn't in the bathroom." Donovan tells me and I think for a moment.

Maybe he went back to his room for something?

"I'm gonna go check his room if that's okay." I say, standing up and excusing myself as I walk down towards James' room.

As I reach the door to his room, it's already open a crack, so I push it open and gasp as I see James stabbing something into the man's neck, blood spraying everywhere.

"James!" I gasp, and he quickly looks up at me with gleaming eyes, and I can't help but smile as blood sprays all over him, splattering him and his white shirt with the most beautiful red that I'm all too familiar with, and as the blood from the man continues to spray, the hunger takes off and I quickly run to James' bed, straddling the man as I begin to drink from his neck.

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you." He grumbles from beside me, and once I'm done feeding, I look up at him, the man's blood dripping from both of us.

"He was treating you like an object." He continues as he goes to put his blazer back on, but quickly discards it on the blood-stained bedsheets.

I say nothing, but smile.

"But I suppose we both got something out of it right?" He asks with a small chuckle and I just nod.

"Nobody has ever killed for me before. Normally, I do all the killing." I tell him whilst I stare at him, and he smiles.

"That all stops here, dear." He says with a genuine smile, and I grab him by the collar and smash my lips onto his.

[vroomvroommuppett]

poll time!!

i have a few requests in my inbox, and i know the plot of one of them, but i cannot decide who to do it for and the face claim

elizabeth henstridge

chloe bennet

[senditcolton]

1k Cele-Bakery Masterlist

THE ORDERS

“Lead Me to the Garden” Chai Cookies (blurbs)

Blue Salvia [JT Compher x reader] Candytuft [Tyson Jost x OC Madeleine Murphy] (part of the “call my bluff, call you babe” universe) Daffodil [Mat Barzal x OC Delaney Pierce] (part of “the pull of you” universe) Edelweiss [Matt Martin x reader] (part of the “we’re a bad idea” universe) Gardenia [Andrei Svechnikov x reader] (part of the ”king of my heart” alternate universe) Gardenia [Colton Parayko x OC Elizabeth Astor] (part of the “would it be enough?” universe) Holly [Tyson Jost x reader] Myrtle [Casey Cizikas x reader] Myrtle [Tyler Seguin x reader] Oak [Brock Boeser x reader] Oak [Ryan Graves x reader]

“Showstopper” Sugar Cookies (moodboards)

“at least we were electrified” with Matt Martin (part of the “we’re a bad idea” universe) Carnival Date with Andrei Svechnikov “Knights of Silver & Gold” with Marc-Andre Fleury Lake Shenanigans with Tyson Jost Renaissance Faire with Brock Boeser Vacation with Mat Barzal

“Wild and Wacky” Vintage Chocolate Cake (headcanons)

Getting Lost on a Long Drive with Tyson Jost Going to a Sauna with Mikko Rantanen Moving Into a New Home with Roope Hintz

“Sweet Like Honey” Buttermilk Honey Bread (playlists)

Forbidden Royal Romance with Andrei Svechnikov (part of the “king of my heart” universe)Meeting in a Bookshop with Sidney Crosby Unrequited Love with Erik Johnson

“The Apple of My Eye” Caramel Rose Apple Pie (fic recs)

Jake Oettinger Mikko Rantanen Sidney Crosby Tyson Jost

“Too Good, Too Pure” Cinnamon Roll (ask games)

Top 5 NHL Players Top 5 Places I’ve Seen Top 5 Tropes to Read Top 5 Tropes to Write Top 5 Underrated Active NHL Players Top 5 Vacation Spots

THE THANKS

First, I want to give a special shoutout to a few very special people who I cherish dearly and can’t imagine my time on hockeyblr without them:

Demi ( @wyattjohnston )  You are a bright, shining, sparkling light in this community. You are always so wonderful and welcoming to everyone and I can’t imagine both my time without you nor hockeyblr without you. Thank you for the support on my fics, for hopping in my askbox, and for literally everything you do!!! 

Em ( @texanstarslove ) My goodness! I don’t even know how to describe how wonderful I think you are. You were one of the first blogs I followed here and I thought to myself “wow, she is so cool”. And look at us now! Thank you for allowing me to hop in your askbox and torture you with thoughts (or more accurately, thots) about our favorite hockey boys and for being an overall genuine and sweet person!!!

Lauren ( @laurenairay ) Words cannot describe how amazing and caring of a person you are! You are always taking time out of your day to send me sweet messages and always leaving the sweetest tags on my fics and just... wow! I always look forward to seeing you; in my askbox/messages, in my notifs, on my dashboard. Keep being the golden beautiful human you are!!

I also want to give a quick, special shoutout to three blogs that are not as active/inactive that I still consider very close friends and shaped my hockeyblr experience: Ilyana ( @hookingminor ), Alex ( @toplinetommy ), and Hannah ( @yeeehaw-hockey ). 

There are of course so many other people/blogs I consider near and dear to me and that have made these years on hockeyblr so wonderful & who I can’t wait to become even closer with:  @matthewtkachuk​ @thomasschabot​ @comphy-and-cozy​ @smileysvech​​ @dissonannce​ @ilyasorokinn​ @fallinallincurls​ @raysofcrosby​ @barzysunflower​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @jarmorie​ @cellythefloshie​​ @tippedbykreider​ @troubatrain​ @masonappleton​ @adamlowsy​ @rnuggethopkins​ @austennight​ @wanderinqhoul​ @kailyn-writes​ @typical-simplelove​ 

Shoutout to every single one of you for being here!! If you didn’t see your name above, that doesn’t matter; I love you just as much! When I say I couldn’t do this without you, I mean it!!! (no literally, this celebration wouldn’t exist if 1k of you didn’t decide to hit that follow button)

[lvdbbooks]

2023年9月15日

【新入荷・新本】

Various Artists Newspaper, Primary Information, 2023

416 pages. 9.75 x 13.38 Inches. Paperback. Edition of 4500.

価格：7,480円（税込）

/

1968年から1971年にかけてスティーヴ・ローレンスが発行し、ピーター・ヒュージャーとアンドリュー・ウルリックが編集に携わったニューヨーク発のタブロイド誌『Newspaper』の復刻版。

『Newspaper』は、言葉を使わず、写真だけを掲載した定期刊行物で、14号にわたって40人以上のアーティストの異質な活動を取り上げています。新しい作品と並行して流用された素材を掲載することに編集の重点を置き、1960年代後半の現代社会を象徴するハイカルチャーとローカルチャーの視覚的言語を体系化しようとしました。美術史的な言説からはほとんど見落とされているが、当時のアメリカで活躍し、尊敬されていた多数のアーティストと、新興のクィア・アーティストの仲間たちを紹介しています。

『Newspaper』は、1969年に創刊されたアンディ・ウォーホルの『Interview』や、レス・レヴィンの『Culture Hero』に先駆けるアーティストが発行するタブロイド誌のひとつですが、他のタブロイド紙とは対照的に、『Newspaper』はイメージに特化していました。

その全14号が初めてこの一冊にまとめられています。

Published by Steve Lawrence and edited with Peter Hujar and Andrew Ullrick, Newspaper was published in New York City between 1968 and 1971.

Newspaper was a wordless, picture-only periodical thatran for fourteen issues and featured the disparate practices of over forty artists. With an editorial focus on placing appropriated material alongside new works, the periodical sought to codify a visual language of high and low culture that represented contemporary society in the late 1960s. While largely overlooked in art-historical discourse, Newspaper showcased many of the most revered artists working in the United States at the time, as well as an emerging coterie of queer artists.

The mid to late sixties was a flourishing period for artists experimenting with new media formats such as books, records, and magazines to create or distribute their work. Newspaper was one of the first artist-published tabloids of its era, preceding Andy Warhol’s Interview and Les Levine’s Culture Hero, both of which debuted in 1969. However, in contrast to other tabloids, Newspaper focused strictly on images.

At a time when photography was not being exhibited regularly in galleries, Newspaper provided an alternative exhibition space for the medium and some of the era’s greatest photographers. The publication’s large size and unbound format encouraged readers to take it apart and hang its pages, which was how Newspaper was installed at the Museum of Modern Art’s influential Information show in 1970.

This is not to say that Newspaper only existed within the narrow confines of the art world, far from it. It lived within (and shared contributors with) a robust network of underground and queer periodicals like The New York Review of Sex, Rags, and Gay Power, among others. Yet, unlike many of these tabloids, Newspaper has largely disappeared from the discourse around underground magazines, queer publishing, and artists’ periodicals.

All fourteen issues of Newspaper are compiled in this volume for the first time.

Featured artists include: Diane Arbus, Art Workers Coalition, Richard Avedon, Clyde Baines, Sheyla Baykal, Peter Beard, Brigid Berlin, Richard Bernstein, Ann Douglas, Paul Fisher, Maurice Hogenboom, Peter Hujar, Scott Hyde, Christo and Jeanne-Claude Javacheff, Ray Johnson, Edwin Klein, Yayoi Kusama, Gerald Laing, Dorothea Lange, Steve Lawrence, Jeff Lew, Roy Lichtenstein, Frank Mercado, Duane Michals, Jack Mitchell, Forrest “Frosty” Myers, Billy Name, Stephen Paley, Warner Pearson, Jurgen Warner Piepke, Charles Pratt, Joseph Raffael, Mel Ramos, Lilo Raymond, Ruspoli-Rodriguez, Lucas Samaras, Alan Saret, Bill Schwedler, Leni Sinclair, Norman Snyder, Elizabeth Staal, Stanley Stellar, Terry Stevenson, Paul Thek, Andrew Ullrick, Andy Warhol, William T. Wiley, and May Wilson.

[missnationalsweetheart]

The Countess Being Abusive

Pairings: The Countess x Fem!Reader

Part 3

~~

Your hands had found the leather that had previously covered your body. Oh, how good it felt against your hot skin. It was cool, smooth, gave the perfect comfort when needed. Especially now.

"Baby, you must be hot. I'm so sorry." Elizaberh had become more caring then she ever had. And she was normally very very caring. She had begun to slightly adjust the silk covers that covered you, to give you more exposure to the cold air, "I'm still hot..."you had managed to squeeze out; your throat still being tightly sealed from the blunt force before.

You pulled the leather, your leather jacket, up to your face, laying it over your swollen eye. "I love you I love you. I'll get you an icepack." She had swiftly made her way from out of your shared bed, coming back very quickly. An ice pack wrapped in a silk cloth in her hand, as she made her way beside you once more.

"Here we are." Elizabeth had wrapped her arms around you again, letting your body sink into her loving one. She had lightly placed the cold ice pack over your eye, giving you small kisses anywhere her lips could reach. "I love you, Y/N." Her arms wrapped together around you. Sending you into a deep, calm, uninterrupted, dream filled slumber once more.

Your small, skinny, beautiful body was wrapped in silks. The most beautiful, most expensive silks you have ever seen. Your body had been adorned with huge jewels. The biggest you've ever seen. And you were with Elizabeth Johnson. "I'm so nervous, what if I say something wrong or I stutter?" You had been nervous the entire day, but who could blame you? You were getting married; to Elizabeth Johnson. "You won't, my love." A precious smile graced her plump lips, accentuating her beautiful features. "I love you." You said jn a breathy tone.

"I love you more."

[nevloveslemons]

Falling For the Saint (Clive Babineaux x Reader Insert)

Tags?: AFAB Reader, Clutzy reader, Season 1-2 ish, reader type to try and quietly eat at 4 am and end up accidentally walking up everyone, Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, I’m giving you a name a personality, Pink haired insert (dyed,) ummmmmm I dunno let’s feel the vibe. probably many police precinct inaccuracies.

Today was going abnormally slow today, like usual. From the moment Clive hit his snooze button at 5, he decided today was going to be low key. Today somehow drained him, thinking about what whacky personality trait ‘Liv’s going to have today from trying to bring up the missing kids to his Lieutenant, from deciding what stale donut he’ll snack on for ‘lunch’ because he forgot his homemade packed lunch in the fridge somehow. (He even sat on the couch for 5 minutes just sitting.)

after getting ready and getting his holy grail; black coffee (he hate’s the stereotype of cops; donuts, plain coffee because they can’t afford the time, stiff posture, proper, despite showing many of them.) He walked into the precinct, unconsciously checking to see if everything’s under control and calm, which it was not.

In the bullpen he noticed an abundance of his fellow detectives here ON time with is unusual as his superiors aren’t as strict as they should be when it comes to being on time. He passed through the gate and saw his co-workers surrounding someone. You. He pauses, he’s never seen someone so… colourful?

You’re clad in a cat-red, maxi skirt with matching coloured beret and pumps. You had a black and white pocadot blouse with small-medium, poofy sleeves. Even your makeup was bold, bold but colourful, his mind actually went to Marilyn Monroe. Your lips were glossy and red, blush a cool rouge, your cat eyeliner and eye makeup drew him in, kin to the characters he had a crush on as a child in animation movies.

He realized after analyzing your outfit he was being creepy. He quickly snapped his head away from your being and started towards his desk. “Clive! Clive!” One of his co-workers grabbed his jacket with their fingers. He was surprised but held his strong expression, instead letting an exasperated looking face whilst raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “Have you met Beth?” They asked with excitement clear in their tone.

“Uh, no considering I just walked through the gates.” He answered. His tone coming out bored and annoyed, he was a tad annoyed; yes, but it was mainly just his tone/being. He wasn’t trying to sound like this. “We’ll turn your frown upside down” he couldn’t resist, he rolled his eyes. “She’s so bright honestly! A bit of a clutz; I moved in everyones mugs away from the edge of their desks, but she just got transferred from the 99th precinct!” They then pull him to the box of muffins that caught his attention. (other than you lol, if i got to- man now I want a Timmies blueberry muffin :()

“Beth brought these in as a like ‘token of appreciation?’ If we cops were doing that pretty sure we’re supposed to but, eh?”

Pumpkin-Walnut. Acquired.

After his brunch muffin he did a bit of paper work, some back and forth between his desk, the board, and the morgue and by time you know it. It’s lunch. Like stated, brunch muffin, Clive thinks it’s okay to make breakfast count as lunch (8-10 bfast 11-1 lunch, he had his muffin at 7 and hasn’t eaten since.) He was sitting at his desk, leaning his chin on his right hand whilst closing his eyes and not thinking… just, sitting? Then he could feel someone approach him so he eyed his eyes to see you. The Newbie.

“Hello, Detective Babineaux, I’m Elizabeth Johnson. I transferred here from the Nine-Nine and according to our Lieutenant, you’ve been put on my ‘babysitting?’” He looks at you whilst you explain your being there when he hears a rather loud, gurgle. His eyes go from yours to your stomach and back to yours, once he sees your face he notices how quickly you flushed.

“Ah, I apologize. I forgot my lunch at home and planned to have a muffin for lunch only to find them gone.” You let a small chuckle out and let your eyes wonder to anywhere but Clive’s eyes.

“I guess you and I are in the same boat, huh?” He says in hopes of settling some of your embarrassment.

“Oh! You forgot your lunch too?” Your eyes light up, seemingly forgetting about your former emotion. “Uh, yeah-“ He begins going on about what he had packed for lunch. You two talked the duration just about food. You’re not sure how, it went from your lunches and how you wish you had them to the containers their in to the spices and seasonings used. Clive doesn’t realize it but he started to smile when talking to you.

(First time writing on here…..)