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tbaluver · 2 months ago

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Hi! May I request headcanons with a reader who at first glance looks cold ,mean and introverted, but then when LaDs boys get closer to her, they realize that she is quite kind and sweet.

I also want to say that I adore your work, seriously, thanks to you, I open Tumbler every day and re-read your works. You're one of my fav authors ❣️

I hope everything goes well for you!

(´｡• ᵕ •｡) ♡

When You Look Mean and Introverted- The Love And DeepSpace Men

⤷ synopsis: when reader looks cold, mean, and introverted but actually she's kind and sweet! parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi my lovely anonnie ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ it is such an honor to be your favorite author! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) i love re-reading my favorite authors works and to hear you re-read my works makes my silly writings feel so seen and appreciated so thank you for supporting my works it means a lot to me truly -`♡´- i hope this was okay lmk ! i ended up writing a story build/ up to their relationship but enjoy reading luv ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two first crossed paths during a Hunter’s mission when you found him asleep. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but after several unexpected encounters, he started to notice your cold and mean expression. Worry started to wash over him every time you met. Were you upset with him? Did you not want to resonate with him the first time? Do you not want him to be there? Even though you two hardly spoke, he couldn’t help but feel like he did something wrong. He has been looking for you through galaxies and back and he did not want to mess this up.

It wasn’t until another unexpected mission that you two crossed paths again. The energy fluctuations from Wanderers were rising and you found yourself in need of help. Luckily, he was right there by your side, swiftly taking down each one left and right before they could inflict any more serious harm on you.

He rushed to your side to check for your injuries after all the Wanderers were gone. To his surprise, you complimented him, shattering his belief that you might dislike him. Your warm smile brought a surprising warmth that eased his worries and revealed a kindness he didn’t notice before.

You asked if he was any part of the Hunter’s association and when Xavier replied no, you encouraged him to join, expressing how much potential you saw in him. It was at that moment he realized you weren’t unapproachable at all- your kindness and support shined through your reserved exterior, showing a thoughtful and caring person beneath.

You two would be later assigned for missions together and your conversations became more frequent and he began to see glimpses of your thoughtful and kind personality behind your reserved exterior. He had no problem anymore that you were quiet and you two would enjoy your time together.

As you both continued to spend time together, whether strategizing for missions or simply just enjoying each other’s company, the walls between you began to crumble as if they were never there. He was more than happy to know that you were more comfortable with him and pondered on taking your relationship to another step.

Zayne:

It had been years since you two last saw each other, the last time when you were just kids. Now both of you were adults, your paths crossed again in an unexpected way. He was your doctor and you were his patient. At first glance, he quickly realized that your expression might come off as reserved, something he understood all too well as many people perceived him the same way.

It would take a few patient check-ups and casual conversations to confirm that you were just a reserved and introverted person who needed time to open up to others.

You started becoming more open with him. You shared stories about your life and your missions and asked about his life. You found yourself texting him outside of the hospital, checking in to see if he’d slept well or had eaten that day.

During your next patient check up, you brought over his favorite sweet treats- something you remembered him pointing out of his favorite bakery nearby the hospital. A small smile crept across his face and he couldn’t resist taking a quick bite of one two before diving into your examination.

You couldn’t tell from his stoic expression but he was melting inside. He felt grateful that each moment you spent together brought you two closer and he was eager to find ways to connect outside of your patient check-ups.

While he examines you, he pondered whether to invite you out after his shift or to suggest getting together the next time he was free to grab a meal. The thought of spending time with you after all this time, fills him with excitement.

Rafayel:

You were the first human he would ever find intimidating. Your first encounter took place in his studio during a mission. While he fought alongside you against the Wanderers, you barely exchanged any words with him. Your cold expression left him feeling intimidated and uncertain. Luckily, he manages to get a few words out of you and somehow convinces you to be his bodyguard.

He was definitely freaking out in his head when you were coming over to his studio. What could he say? What could you both do? He was worried the next encounter would end up in a disaster and he would have to wait another hundred years to meet you again. He was not willing to die in this lifetime just die in embarrassment.

He was internally a mess when you were over at his studio. Every time you went quiet during your chats, his nerves kicked in, but he kept talking, hoping to make you feel at ease. He hoped that by sharing more, he could help you feel comfortable. He would never force you to talk but he would always leave the conversation open for you to join whenever.

But then, it’s as if the sea gods have heard him. When you spoke up, you referenced a topic from his earlier conversations. It dawned on him that you had been listening intently all along. You responded thoughtfully, engaging with his stories in a way that made him feel valued and cared for. That realization made his anxiety inside of him transform into something much more warmer and more at ease.

He would later then ask you questions, if you were comfortable with it, about you and your life. The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, as if it had always been this way. You two could easily chat for hours and he was more than happy to listen or talk about your stories, enjoying every second of your growing bond.

You both grew closer during your visit to the hospital when he had a serious injury. As you both strolled through the hospital garden, he watched in awe as you spotted a fish struggling in the fountain. Without hesitation, you knelt down, entirely focused on rescuing the little creature.

Seeing your determination and kindness warmed his heart. It reminded him of the layers beneath your reserved exterior and stirs the past memories from 800 years ago when you selflessly tried to save him. The echoes of the past resonated deeply within him.

As you finally freed the fish, he couldn’t help but let out a smile. His heart aches with a longing for you, each shared moment igniting a deeper desire. With every second spent together, he felt the distance between you shrink, drawing him closer to the warmth of your presence.

Sylus:

He wasn’t scared or worried-at first, he liked a challenge. You were mysterious and quiet and it genuinely captivated him, sparking a genuine curiosity to learn more about you. Even though your first encounter or him trying to force you to resonate with him wasn’t ideal, he was determined to bridge the gap between you two and show you in depth of who he truly was.

He discovered there was much more to your personality through Luke and Kieran while you doodle in your book back in your room that you stayed at in his estate. An unfamiliar feeling stirred within him- an ache of longing and a mix with a hint of jealousy. He couldn’t shake the desire to be the one to uncover the layers of your personality.

One time he passed by you in his estate, the silence between you felt heavy and he couldn’t help but assume you still held some resentment toward him, not that he could blame you. But he refused to give up.

He invites you to a fancy auction where you could find the protocore you needed for your mission. Yet, his true mission was to learn more about you, to connect on a deeper level.

On the night of the auction, you both dress to impress and he couldn’t help but spoil you in compliments before you both left the estate. He also can’t hide the amusement on his face as he manages to convince you to link arms as you enter together. To his delight, you didn’t protest, your smile warming up the building but more so, him. The playful banter and shared glances as you walked in together only fueled his hope that you just might be opening up to him after all.

This has been the most that you two have talked through the entire night and each second felt like a gift. Hearing your laughter was music to his ears and hearing your stories was something he would want to listen to for hours. It was then he realized that maybe you were just reserved after all and how he wished your encounters could’ve been more different and how he regretted handling them

Unfortunately what would’ve been a perfect night was ruined by an ambush of Wanderers unleashed at the auction. As instinct, he shielded you from harm, taking any several blows himself. He barely flinched as he focused on defending you. Together, you fought side by side, the adrenaline surging you both until the last Wanderer fell.

As the chaos died down, you rushed to his side, the concern written on your face as you saw fresh wounds on him. Some had already healed, but others were fresh and needed attention, completely oblivious to the fact he could just heal himself. He watches you intently as you carefully tended to him, your gentle touch igniting a warmth within him that he so had been longing for.

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips and a small smile crept onto his face as he took in the sight of you. Maybe it was a perfect night to him after all. It seemed your reserved walls were crumbling down. The way you tended to him spoke volumes and the connection that he has been wanting has sparked beyond attraction.

"Did the kitty finally put away her claws?"

"Shut up Sy..."

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kryptonitejelly · 4 months ago

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Flyboy!Jake you say??? You could write him going grocery shopping and I’d read it. Flyboy!Jake is my comfort character

he is mine as well!

You both look quite the sight walking hand in hand into the grocery store dressed to the nines Jake is still in his suit from the earlier dinner you both were made to attend at the behest of his Grandmother, bowtie undone and hanging from his collar, you in a floor length dress, the silky material flowing along with your movement and heels clicking under you.

The night air is cool, but the inside of the near empty supermarket is even cooler and Jake sees you shiver as you enter through the sliding doors, the blast of air conditioning hitting you. He lets go of your hand almost instantaneously, shrugging off his jacket immediately to drape it over your shoulders. It earns him a smile as you find yourself holding onto the lapels of his jacket, pulling the garment which smells deliciously like him closer to you.

“You always look better in my clothes,” is what Jake mumbles against your skin as he leans forward to press a kiss against your temple.

“Suck up,” you counter with a light roll of your eyes, but with a smile still dancing on your lips.

“For as long as I live,” he says re-tangling his fingers with yours as he guides you to the aisle you both had come for.

“Which one will it be?” He asks while you both stand shoulder to shoulder, eyes roaming over the selection of chocolate before you.

“I think,” you hum out as you let your gaze filter through the shelves, “that one,” you point towards on of the upper shelves in the direction of your favourite brand of chocolate.

“Guessed as much,” Jake grins, as he takes a step forward to swipe a handful of chocolate bars, off the shelf.

“No,” you say quickly in chastise as you see Jake’s gaze dart towards the top of the shelf where you both can see the side of an entire carton of your selected brand of chocolate bars peeking down, “you are not getting the entire carton again.”

Jake Seresin would buy you the whole galaxy if you asked for it.

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moonlight-prose · 1 year ago

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If you’re taking those as prompts, ❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜ with Din perhaps?

LOVE IS A FIRE THAT BURNS UNSEEN

a/n: so i took forever on this, because i kind of fell out of writing for din for...well....awhile. i can tell you this sat in my wips folder half finished for months. honestly i was wondering if it would even get finished. but i was re-watching mando last night and decided why the fuck not. i can't remember which prompt list this was from because it's been so long, but that's okay. this is not beta read or edited, but we live and die by the pen.

summary: on your list of things that could possibly happen while bounty hunting with din, dying from hypothermia wasn't included. nor was finally admitting the truth to yourself about your feelings.

word count: 3.1k+

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, near death experience, angst, feelings being admitted sort of, p in v sex, a hint of choking, they're so in love it's sickening.

It’s fucking cold in the Razor Crest as you sit in the cockpit waiting for his return. You’re bundled in a jacket that has seen better days, but even with the extra layers you swear you’ll freeze to death before he comes back. Tempted to turn the ship back on in order to get some heat—you do the most to distract yourself from the frost currently eating away at the skin of your face. Din’s instructions were clear. Keep the ship hidden until he comes back with the bounty, which would be simple enough.

That is if the bounty he was currently hunting resided on a planet with a temperature that wouldn’t kill you from exposure. Everything had been fine two hours ago. You were working on repairing an old comlink as he tracked the bounty through space, having caught their signal on the outer edges of the galaxy. Except then…they were attacked. Neither of you could see who caused it or even why, but suddenly a lone ship was heading into the atmosphere on the one planet you always said you’d rather die than visit.

Hoth—a frozen pit that once housed the Rebellion of all places.

So, there you were. Shivering to gain some warmth as you scanned the area for Din’s signal. If the ship was right, he still remained alive. You only wished you could say the same for yourself by the time he came back.

The cold had begun to seep into your layers, hitting your chest directly and causing you to cough harshly. If he didn’t return within the hour he would find you dead due to hypothermia. Except that’s not what scared you. It was the fact that he would be the one to find you—a man who showed absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

You weren’t sure when the crush started or even why, but you do know the realization hit you harder than a speeder-bike going at full speed one day while you were sitting beside him in the cockpit. He laughed at something you said, the chuckle low and slightly clipped due to his modulator and that’s what did it. What had you sitting there in shock—eyes wide—as it suddenly dawned on you that…you liked him. A lot more than you would have ever thought before.

“Maker fucking above,” you muttered, your teeth chattering with the words. “Hurry up, bucket head.”

Vaguely you recalled some survival tips from your time as a teenager on Bracca working as a scrapper. Never touch live wires, always look out for yourself, and when stuck in freezing temperatures—layers become your best friend. So, you stumbled out of the cockpit chair and towards the ladder that would lead you to the rest of his ship. Slow small steps were all you could manage as your body went into overdrive to try and keep you warm. Except the ship acted as an icebox rather than a heater.

You could lock yourself in his small cot, burrowing under the blankets he’d bought because of you complaining there wasn’t enough on the ship. But you’d first have to get there. It was a struggle to even climb down the ladder—your breath coming in gasps as your lungs fought against the freezing air. How long had you been sitting up there? You held no answer to the question, because the results were clear to you now; you were up there long enough to lead you right to death’s doorstep.

Dragging yourself along the side of the ship wall, you flinched as the cold metal touched your cheek. You should have gone against his orders and simply turned the ship back on. It would keep you from this—currently fighting against hypothermia as Din took his sweet time coming back.

The sound of the airlock on the door releasing when it opened brought a small flicker of hope to life, burning bright in your chest. But it faded just as quickly as it came. You caught sight of him dragging a half dead bounty up the ramp—his helmet turned towards you—before you collapsed to the ground. Your body shivering in a final attempt to generate enough body heat in order to keep you alive.

His voice calling your name echoed in the back of your mind as you drifted off—the concept of sleep far more enticing than it should be.

Steady breaths against your bare back was what you woke up—your mind drifting slowly back to reality. Or at least what you thought to be reality. The last thing you could recall was seeing Din’s helmet as your body did what it could to survive. How you ended up in the darkness of his cot, pressed against someone you assumed to be him…naked, was a mystery to you. Perhaps you were still dreaming. This must be how your mind envisioned some form of peace to ease your soul into an afterlife.

“You’re awake.” His voice caught you off guard—the breath in your throat catching.

“How…”

The shift of his body created a low burn of heat to appear at the bottom of your stomach as his arm tightened around your waist—drawing you closer. “You almost stopped breathing when I got back. Your body went into shock from the cold.”

“I was dying,” you said softly, the realization far less jarring than waking beside him in the nude.

He hummed, the low pitch a vibration you felt along your back. “I had to get you warm.”

“So you took off my clothes?” you asked, the smile prominent in your tone.

“Generating enough body heat only works when—”

“Both of us are naked.”

His fingers gripped onto the soft skin of your belly. “Yes,” he replied—voice slightly strained.

Somehow it never registered that he was actually sans armor and clothing until you felt his hand glide further up. The soft skin of his palm turned the spark into a fully formed flame that traveled its way through your body. He was laying beside you…naked. If you concentrated hard enough, you could feel the rise and fall of his stomach against your lower back—his skin soft there too.

Any other time your brain would have short circuited, but the sluggishness from sleep had yet to wear off. It made you rather docile—something you felt oddly grateful for. You were entirely aware, fully conscious of your words and decisions, but the tranquility in your body seemingly spurred you forward. No other time would you be this centered—this sure of yourself—and maybe that’s where you made the mistake, because this was dangerous. Revealing the feelings you’d harbored for months was like poison to your heart…positively lethal.

“Din,” you murmured, the soft heat coming from his body now spreading into yours.

If you knew you’d end up like this after one visit to Hoth, you would have come here a lot sooner.

“Yes?” Even his breath was warm as it brushed across the bare skin of your shoulder. Maker you were close in his bed that was barely big enough for him, let alone you beside him.

“I—” The words caught in the base of your throat, lodging themselves there like a stone you couldn’t swallow. You wanted to say it. Get everything out into the open and be done with it, but your mind seemed to be slowly coming to its senses.

“What is it?”

Closing your eyes, you let out a shuddered breath in the hopes that it would push down the erratic nerves which jumped under your skin. If you chickened out now, you’d never say the words. They’d be your secret—forever trapped in the cage of your heart until it was far too late to confess them. What’s funny is that they seemed like such easy things to say. How hard was it really to say I love you? How much effort did it take? Only you now realized it took a lot more than you expected.

It was far easier to die than to admit your feelings.

“I have to tell you something and I just—” Inhaling, you curled your hand around the blanket beneath you. “I don’t want you to look at me differently if things don’t turn out the way I hope.”

His thumb rubbed a soothing circle against your hip. “I won’t.”

You scoffed. “You probably will.”

The subtle shift of his body against yours caused flutters to go through your heart—rendering you speechless for a moment. He was so close it was maddening. If you had the courage you’d turn around, press yourself to him, and whisper the words against his lips. But you were practically stone, unable to even turn your head slightly to feel the press of his lips against your neck.

“For a while now I’ve felt…well…my feelings towards you have changed.” You blurted them out, hoping it was like ripping off a bandaid. Except the silence of his response hurt more than you expected.

Until—

“I know,” he said, his hand pressing a bit harder on your hip.

Nothing could have prepared you for the shockwave that went through your body. “You know?” you exclaimed.

“I’ve known since our trip to Coruscant.”

You paused, trying to form something to say, but all you could come up with was: “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Why had he let you think he held no feelings towards you? That you were alone in this. You felt him stiffen behind you, his hand pulling away slightly and your heart sank in your chest. Perhaps you had asked the wrong question. Or even touched on a part of this he didn’t want you to see. But you had to know the truth. You knew why you waited—why you couldn’t get the words out for the life of you—but why had he?

That is until he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly, jolting you back towards his body. A soft yelp left you as you tried to refocus yourself in the pitch black space. Except then you felt it. Pressing hard and insistent against your lower back—a part of Din you had only ever imagined, but never seen.

He grunted, his hand splaying across your stomach as you shifted against him. “Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”

You gasped. “Din—”

“What you’ve been doing?

His hips canted downwards, grinding against you and sending heat sparking up your spine. Enough to combat the cold that still remained in you, but you wanted more. You craved it. Moaning softly, you pushed back against him, pressing your thighs together to hopefully appease the growing ache that formed. Except he was one step ahead of you. Shoving his bare thigh between your legs, he pressed it upwards, grinning at the way your head fell back against his chest—a guttural moan leaving your lips.

“Every day is fucking torture,” he rasped, his hand sliding even lower until his fingers were hovering right above where you needed him most. “Because I can’t touch you.” His lips pressed against the curve of your jaw. “Because I can’t kiss you…”

“Maker,” you gasped, reaching down to wrap your hand around his wrist. “I-I want you to touch me. Want you to kiss me.”

His fingers dipped down even lower, finally parting your folds. A ragged groan was pressed to your jaw, his teeth scraping down against the skin when he found you wet and dripping for him. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. How it was erratic and almost as quick as yours. He was just as nervous as you were—if not more so, because of his creed.

He wanted you to be his, to love him as he was with his creed, but he was scared that this wasn’t permanent. You wanted to show him the inner workings of your mind, the makeup of your heart—how he was seared into it. He was ingrained so deep into your soul that you couldn’t even fathom the thought of being parted from him.

“Are you always this wet for me?” he asked, disbelief clear in his tone.

Nodding, you felt another moan begin to form, only for it to die as he pulled his fingers away. “No—”

“Shh,” he breathed, cupping your jaw as he moved even closer. “I’ll take care of you.”

Heat flooded your stomach, a whine forming in your throat as he pulled you back, the head of his cock now nudging against your entrance. You dug your nails into his forearm, your lips parting to form around his name. A ragged moan echoing in his small quarters, and he began to push forward. Sliding into you slowly as you fought to keep yourself quiet.

“So fucking tight,” he hissed, wrapping his arm around your torso and thrusting into you completely, his hips pressing against your ass. “Won’t last—”

You keened when his hand fell to your clit, circling it with enough pressure to send jolts up your spine. For a moment he simply held himself there. Encompassed in your heat as he worked you over, building your release steadily until you were pressing into him. Your hips rolling against his fingers—fucking yourself on his cock. Soft moans were pressed to your skin, the stubble on his jaw scratching along your shoulder, and that only heightened everything.

For the first time…he was entirely yours. Bare and open as he indulged in something both of you had held back from doing for so long.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you turned your head and caught the corner of his lips in a kiss. Something so tender yet so powerful. It nearly sent you over the edge and you felt Din’s surprise at the action. How his body jolted, his hips nudging forward and fingers stuttering in their motions. Even though he had proudly claimed he wanted to kiss you, to finally feel your lips against his. He had never expected it to come true.

“Cyar'ika,” he breathed.

“I want…” You gasped, hips rolling against his fingers in quick movements as that blinding feeling continued to overtake you. “Kiss me Din. Please, please—”

His mouth found yours in the darkness of his cabin, and you felt your heart scream out. Felt your entire body give into him, his name, his signet forever carved into your heart. He was your future and he knew it. Which is why he kissed you with a fervor that you believed only existed in your dreams—a passion that you felt right down to your toes. His tongue slid along yours, tasting the shitty caf you had earlier—the desperation on your tastebuds.

“Ah…” You tried to form the words on your tongue. The feelings that were trapped in your heart, but they refused to be let loose.

“I know you want to cum,” he breathed, fingers speeding up as your walls began to flutter around his cock. His other hand shifted, wrapping gently around your throat to keep your face close to his. Pressing down lightly as you gasped. “Let me feel it.”

A keening broken moan of his name ripped from you, hands scrabbling to grasp for something, settling for his arm that kept you pressed against him. White flashed behind your closed eyes, his lips swallowing every sound you made as you writhed against him. Gushing around his cock.

You didn’t hear the hoarse shout that he pressed into your mouth, his hips thrusting into you quickly as he followed you off the edge. Filling you with a warmth that you swore you felt in your chest. Biting down on his bottom lip you sucked into your mouth, moaning when he canted his hips forward, prolonging the sparks that ran up your spine. He was a panting mess and you tried to picture what he looked like.

Was his hair a mess? Were his cheeks stained red? Were his lips swollen?

The urge to simply open your eyes nearly overtook you, but you understood what came with that action. What would have to happen afterwards. Din had explained enough for you to grasp the basic details of what being a Mandalorian meant. So you kept them closed and opted to simply feel. You memorized how his lips against yours felt, what being full of him felt like.

You kept what you could nestled against your heart, remaining here for as long as possible. Din’s cock softened in you, twitching every now and then when your walls fluttered. But you solely had him to blame. Because he was running his hand along your body, grazing your nipples lightly before pulling away—the familiar feelings in your stomach stirring once more. If he wasn’t careful neither of you would be leaving this bed for quite some time.

Which didn’t bode well for you seeing as how you hated the planet you currently resided on.

“Din,” you breathed, pulling away to catch your breath before he dived down again—ready for round two of the hottest makeout session you’d partaken in.

“You want to leave,” he panted. There was something scary about how he could see your thoughts so clearly. You’d have to ask him about it later.

“No…” Your head fell back against his shoulder. “I want to stay here, but Hoth.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “We can stay here for as long as you want.”

Half expecting him to pull out and place his helmet back in its rightful place, you were a bit surprised when he remained put. Curling himself around you closer until his body perfectly molded yours. The cold still remained in the ship—the heaters unable to counteract the snowy planet—yet you found that you were perfectly content to remain right where you were. Wrapped in his arms—the certainty of your future now nestled in his heart. Mimicking yours in every way.

“Din,” you breathed in the darkness, feeling him trace something along your waist.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say…” You took in a breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. “I feel like you should hear me say it.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers pressing down. “I know cyar'ika. I feel the same way.”

“You do?” you asked softly.

“I do.”

You settled into the bed, allowing your muscles to relax and your body to once more give into the temptation of sleep. With Din right there, you felt as if you were able to finally relax. To give in and allow yourself to float.

“You know…” You yawned, feeling his chin settle against your shoulder. “Maybe Hoth isn’t so bad.”

He smiled, his lips brushing along your skin as you drifted off, mind succumbing to the sweet snare of unconsciousness. “No,” he breathed, continuing to trace the shape of his signet on your skin, because whether you wore it or not…you were a part of his clan. His life. “It’s not.”

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #my writing

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ladykailitha · 8 months ago

Text

Icarus Part 5

And here we arrive at the second post today. I'm just trying to move through my backlog so that I'm down to my preferred three ahead. Glitters is at the rut, so only a chapter or two left to write, so that's almost done. Soulmates is to filling the gaps in the "In Media Res" scene and is nearing its end, too. Which means with any luck, I'll be down to just three WIP at the end of the month: Moonlight, Boy w/a Bat, and this one.

In this chapter, we have Eddie being a menace and giving Steve and Robin the fright of their lives. And because my Steddie never take anything slow, they kiss about it.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last spot on The Fallen’s American tour was Pasadena just to flip Dustin’s shit now that he was in Hawkin’s, Eddie was sure.

Eddie bought nose bleed seats because he didn’t want to throw Steve off of his playing. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass him and take the spotlight off their music.

He tucked his signature locks under a hat, removed his face piercings, and made sure all his tattoos were covered. He wore an Abbadon hoodie over his regular clothes and got into place in his seat.

He watched the whole show with great enthusiasm, banging along to his favorite songs.

Eddie was most of the way through the show when the twelve year old boy next to him clocked him for who he really is.

He put his finger up to his lips and winked. The boy nodded solemnly and he turned back to spectacle in front of them, like he hadn’t seen the frontman for the biggest metal band in the world sitting in the nose bleed seats for The Fallen.

Eddie lucked out on that one. Boys that age were of two schools of thought regarding secrets, either everyone knew or no one did. He stumbled on the latter.

Thank god!

He really didn’t want this to blow up on him before he got a chance to surprise Steve.

The concert was even more amazing than the one in Indy and Eddie’s skin was just thrumming with excitement as he paid off a member of stadium staff to send the flowers to the dressing room.

They let him wait in the wings without telling anyone who he was. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for Steve to get his flowers. But he wasn’t bored. He watched the roadies and techs scramble about breaking down the set pieces.

He saw two of them carrying Astraeus’s wings and they were even cooler close up. He could that they weren’t just glittery blue, but actual galaxies and constellations.

He was about to ask if he could touch them when a woman in a stylish, black pant suit and sunglasses came storming over to him in a panic.

“Eddie Munson?” she hissed. “Come with me, now!”

Eddie grinned. “Right with you, darlin’.”

He followed her all the way to the dressing room, hands in his back pockets and a skip in his step.

****

Steve was tired. Fuck he was so tired. He scrubbed his face trying to get the sweat off.

The dressing room was heavily guarded so that he could get out his getup to shower and get the patina of being on stage off of his skin.

He would get back into Abbadon before he walked out, but he just needed to be him for a moment.

He stepped out of the shower and looked around at the gifts from fans. The management had put in the ones they thought he would want to see the most.

In the pile was the most striking blue roses he had ever seen. They were almost a midnight blue. His favorite color and his favorite flower. He walked over to them slowly as he dried himself off with the towel.

There was a simple note.

“I know your secret, sweetheart.

But don’t worry, it’s safe with me.”

Steve’s hand shook as he read the note over and over again. He made a dive for his phone, towel forgotten on the floor.

He sent off a quick text to Robin.

-Find Eddie Munson, now!

He got a message back with just one word.

-How!

He replied.

-He’s here

Steve dressed and then sat down on the sofa, settling in to wait. Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door and he put the mask up to his face while the door was open, intending to lower it again. But seeing Eddie standing there with a feral grin on his face.

He wavered, unsure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his grin never leaving his face. “Did you like the flowers?”

The woman looked back and forth between them in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Eddie turned to her. “You see, Robin, I figured out that Stevie here is the lead singer of an up and coming metal band. And that you two have been keeping secrets.”

Steve dropped the mask in shock, revealing his face. “How?”

Robin took off her sunglasses. “Who told? Who the fuck do I have to sue?”

Eddie smirked. “No one.”

“You’re trying to tell me,” she said with a scoff, “that Mr Double Super Senior figured out something that had been so closely guarded for the last couple of years?”

“Yup!”

Steve stood up and threw the mask on the sofa. He walked carefully over to the man he closely regarded as his best friend, the high heels of his costume clicking on the wood floor.

“How’d you do it, Eds?” he whispered when he got close enough. “How did you figure it out before the press, before our friends who are literal geniuses, before my own fucking parents?”

Eddie lifted up Steve’s jaw up with his fingers and then tapped on the two moles on the side of his neck. The ones Eddie always thought of as love bites.

“My moles?” Steve asked, unsure.

“I noticed them when I went to the concert with Dustin in Indy,” Eddie said softly. “That’s how I knew it was you.”

“Have you got some obsession with moles or something?” Robin sneered.

He shook his head. “Just Stevie.”

Steve gasped. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Robin repeated. “I’m still going to have to make you sign an NDA. I’m sorry. I know you won’t tell, but I have to be sure.”

Eddie nodded. “Send it to my lawyers.”

She nodded and slipped out of the door, barely opening it wide enough for her to exit. She put the glasses back on and decided she needed a drink. A big one. Maybe three.

****

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I know how exhausting shows can be and you did it in high heels.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle but did as he was told.

“I never thought that someone would figure it out,” he said shakily. “I’m so scared right now.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. “Oh, Stevie. I didn’t think it would frighten you, otherwise I would have just kept my mouth shut.”

Steve looked him in the eyes. “I’m not frightened of you or that you would tell. It’s just that old adage of if you want to keep a secret between two people–”

“You kill one,” Eddie finished grimly. “I know, baby.”

After a few months of silence Steve whispered, “So you’re obsessed with me?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Yeah. Have been for years.”

“How long?” Steve asked biting his lip and playing with the sleeve of his hooded coat. He looked away not sure he really wanted the answer. Was this new, because he was in a metal band? Was it recent, with Steve not being as readily available as he was before?

“Since high school.”

Steve’s head snapped up and he looked at up at him in awe. “Holy shit, Eds, that’s forever.”

A soft, fond smile spread out over Eddie’s face, his dimples deepening to sharp lines on his cheeks.

It was Steve’s favorite smile of his. And one he was learning might just be for him and him alone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie breathed, “I know.”

They were so close, their breath mingled together, their noses brushed and Steve’s eyelashes fanned out, almost touching Eddie’s cheek.

Steve let out a gasp and Eddie closed the distance. Their lips met and Steve would swear for years to come that there were god damned fireworks. There had to be. Nothing and no one had ever felt like this. It was warm and soft and hot and sexy and bright and dark all at once. Every nerve ending lit up where just their lips touched.

And then Eddie cupped the back of his head and whatever thoughts that were in Steve’s head flew out the window. Every fear, every anxiety, every doubt went running for the hills. All he needed in this very moment was Eddie.

Until the end of time.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed when he finally managed to pull away.

Steve could only agree. “Um...can you meet me at my hotel?”

Eddie licked his lips. He wanted to take Stevie apart right then right there. But it would put Steve in danger of being discovered.

And that could not happen.

Now that he knew Steve’s secret, now that Steve was letting him in. Like all the way in, he would do anything to protect him.

“Yeah, baby,” he agreed. “I’ll meet you there. Message Celeste,” he winked, “and let her know to sneak me in.”

Steve relaxed that final increment. He kissed him fiercely. “Thanks for understanding, Eds. I love you so much.”

Eddie blushed, shoving a strand of hair into his mouth to hide his face. “Ah, sweetheart. There’s nothing to thank me for. I’d burn the world down for you if you asked.”

Steve kissed him again. “I think it’s best if I go out first and then message you when the coast is clear.”

Eddie nodded.

He was still in disguise. Only four people knew who he was. The kid, Robin and Steve, and the dude he paid to get the flowers in Steve’s dressing room.

Which Eddie would send his own team of lawyers to make sure the man didn’t so much as breathe the wrong direction.

He would then, of course meet with “Celeste” and “Abbadon” to construct the perfect cover story for Steve being on the tour with Corroded Coffin. Provided Steve said yes.

Twenty minutes later, Eddie emerged from the dressing room to see only a couple of roadies still milling around.

He blinked at one of them for a moment, but then the guy disappeared around a corner and he couldn’t be sure.

He would swear later it looked like Simon Olsen. Steve’s friend. But that couldn’t be right? Couldn’t it?

He shook himself off. He had a hotel to get to and paparazzi to dodge.

Eddie slipped into his old middle school persona. The one from before he moved in with his uncle, Wayne. The one where he could shrink in on himself.

Become... not invisible, per se. Not important enough to be worth a look at.

He removed the hoodie and handed it to fan lingering outside. He roughed up his hair, untied the shoelaces on his boots, rubbed dirt on his knees and hands.

Once his new disguise was in place, he shambled down the street and people moved right through him as if he wasn’t there.

Eddie had to fight down a grin. People were eaten up with curiosity on how he could avoid getting papped no matter where he went. And this right here was his secret. Appear homeless and no one would give a damn.

He got into position and texted ‘Celeste’ he had arrived. He took the time to smooth out his hair and stretch out his spine. Walking hunched over like that hurt as he kicked and screamed into his late twenties. Something he never thought he would reach.

He texted Jeff to let him know he wouldn’t be back to night and settled in to wait.

Soon enough he was led up through the back way and then into Steve’s hotel room.

As soon as the door closed, Steve was on him.

“Are you okay? Did anyone see you?” And then, “Why are you so dirty?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Just a little thing I learned from dear ole dad about walking about unseen. So just let me clean up a bit and I’m all yours.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded nervously.

Eddie chuckled. “Unless you wanted to join me in the shower?” he said over his shoulder.

Steve perked right up and followed Eddie into the en suite bathroom, kicking the door closed with a grin.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago

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Middlemen without enshittification

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me next in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Enshittification describes how platforms go bad, which is also how the internet goes bad, because the internet is made of platforms, which is weird, because platforms are intermediaries and we were promised that the internet would disintermediate the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

The internet did disintermediate a hell of a lot of intermediaries – that is, "middlemen" – but then it created a bunch more of these middlemen, who coalesced into a handful of gatekeepers, or as the EU calls them "VLOPs" (Very Large Online Platforms, the most EU acronym ever).

Which raises two questions: first, why did so many of us end up flocking to these intermediaries' sites, and how did those sites end up with so much power?

To answer the first question, I want you to consider one of my favorite authors: Crad Kilodney (RIP):

https://archive.org/details/thecradkilodneypapers

When I was growing up, Crad was a fixture on the streets of Toronto. All through the day and late into the evening, winter or summer, Crad would stand on the street with a sign around his neck ("Very famous Canadian author, buy my books, $2" or sometimes just "Margaret Atwood, buy my books, $2"). He wrote these deeply weird, often very funny short stories, which he edited, typeset, printed, bound and sold himself, one at a time, to people who approached him on the street.

I had a lot of conversations with Crad – as an aspiring writer, I was endlessly fascinated by him and his books. He was funny, acerbic – and sneaky. Crad wore a wire: he kept a hidden tape recorder rolling in his coat and he secretly recorded conversations with people like me, and then released a series of home-duplicated tapes of the weirdest and funniest ones:

https://archive.org/details/on-the-street-crad-kilodney-vol-1

I love Crad. He deserves more recognition. There's an on-again/off-again documentary about his life and work that I hope gets made some day:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#putrid-scum

But – and this is the crucial part – there are writers out there I want to hear from who couldn't do what Crad did. Maybe they can write books, but not edit them. Or edit them, but not typeset them. Or typeset, but not print. Or print, but not spend the rest of their lives standing on a street-corner with a "PUTRID SCUM" sign around their neck.

Which is fine. That's why we have intermediaries. I like booksellers (I was one!). I like publishers. I like distributors. I like their salesforce, who go forth and convince the booksellers of the world to stock books like mine. I have ten million things I want to do before I die, and I'm already 52, and being a sales-rep for a publisher isn't on my bucket list. I am so thankful that someone else wants to do this for me.

That's why we have intermediaries, and why disintermediation always leads to some degree of re-intermediation. There's a lot of explicit and implicit knowledge and specialized skill required to connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, and other sides of two-sided markets. Some producers can do some of this stuff for themselves, and a very few – like Crad – can do it all, but most of us need some help, somewhere along the way. In the excellent 2022 book Direct, Kathryn Judge lays out a clear case for all the good that middlemen can do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

So why were we all so anxious for disintermediation back in the late 1990s? Here's a hint: it wasn't because we hated intermediaries – it was because we hated powerful intermediaries.

The point of an intermediary is to serve as a conduit between producers and consumers, buyers and sellers, audiences and creators. When an intermediary gains power over the audience – say, by locking them inside a walled garden – and then uses that lock-in to screw producers and appropriate an ever larger share of the value going between them, that's when intermediaries become a problem.

The problem isn't that someone will handle ticketing for your gig. The problem is that Ticketmaster has locked down all the ticketing, and the venues, and the promotions, and it uses that power to gouge fans and rip off artists:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

The problem isn't that there's a well-made website that lets you shop for goods sold by many small merchants and producers. It's that Amazon has cornered this market, takes $0.51 out of every dollar you spend there, and clones and destroys any small merchant who succeeds on the platform:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can stream most of the music ever recorded. It's that Spotify colludes with the Big Three labels to rip off artists and sneaks crap you don't want to hear into your stream in order to collect payola:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can buy any audiobook you want. It's that Amazon's Audible locks every book to its platform forever and steals hundreds of millions of dollars from creators:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

The problem, in other words, isn't intermediation – it's power. The thing that distinguishes a useful intermediary from an enshittified bully is power. Intermediaries gain power when our governments stop enforcing competition law. This lets intermediaries buy each other up and corner markets. Once they've formed cozy cartels, they can capture their regulators and commit rampant labor, privacy and consumer violations with impunity. That capture also lets them harness governments to punish smaller players that want to free workers, creators, audiences and customers from walled gardens. It also hands them a whip-hand over their workers, so that any worker who refuses to aid in these nefarious plans can be easily fired:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

A world with intermediaries is a better world. As much as I love Crad Kilodney's books, I wouldn't want to live in a world where the only books on my shelves came from people prepared to stand on a street-corner wearing a "FOUL PUS FROM DEAD DOGS" sign.

The problem isn't intermediaries – it's powerful intermediaries. That's why the world's surging antitrust movement is so exciting: by reinstating competition law, we can keep intermediaries small and comparatively weak, so that creators and audiences, drivers and riders, sellers and buyers, and other groups seeking to connect will not find themselves made subservient to middlemen.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

#pluralistic #intermediation #disintermediation #publishing #creative labor #middlemen #distributors #publishers #publicists #enshittification #monopoly #monopsony #crad kilodney #trustbusting #antitrust

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inneedofsupervision · 2 months ago

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Vis's Tickle-Fic Recommendations

Do you sometimes find yourself on this site, scrolling and searching for fics, thinking you have probably read everything your favorite fandom has to offer when it comes to tickle fanfics? Well, you might be right, that could be the case. But there's also the possibility that you missed something. Sometimes, even the most impressive works don't show up, thanks to many factors that we don't always have an influence over. This list contains several writers and their works that have left a great impression on me and which I would recommend to others. If you are searching for tickle fanfics that are very well written, fluffy, sometimes silly (in the best way possible), detailed, or put a smile on your face, maybe you should check out this list. You might find something you haven't read before or find a beloved favorite to re-read.

Disclaimer; As mentioned, this list is purely based on fanfics I have read, of fandoms I am into, and that I (personally) enjoyed. It might not be to everyone's taste.

I have not listed the fics or writers in any particular order. I selected some works of each writer but most of them have written so much more so please check out their other works too.

Links are provided to help you find the blog, fanfics or the corresponding Ao3/Fanfic.net account.

The List will be updated with time (if I have found more stuff to recommend).

Check out the writers and their works under the cut!

@derdunkleengel

Her works are the first contact I had with tickle fanfics and the reason why I write tickle fanfics myself. Reading her fanfics, you can feel the amount of work she puts into every sentence. You'll find long, high-quality fics containing detailed reactions and much adoration for all the characters. She has posted works of many different fandoms and has much to offer. You should definitely check her Fanfic.net Account and Tumblr out.

Recommendations:

Venom

Have a very Happy New Year (Eddie and Venom)

The Bet (Eddie and Venom)

A strange weakness (Eddie and Venom)

Just relax Eddie (Eddie and Venom)

New Year's resolutions (Eddie and Venom)

Guardians of the Galaxy

Captain teaches a lesson ( Peter and Yondu)

Scared of Aliens, boy? (Peter and Yondu)

That is what friends are there for (Peter, Gamora and Mantis)

Supernatural

No more bible talk Cas (Castiel and Dean)

The Happy Button (Adam, Lucifer and Michael)

Wrestling with an Angel (Castiel and Dean)

Even Angel are Ticklish (Castiel, Sam and Dean)

Sensitive Knees (Sam, Castiel and Dean)

I'll show you how to have fun (Sam and Gabriel)

Also writes for/ has written for: Hazbin Hotel, Iron Man, The Legends of Zelda, Grey's Anatomy, Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Lucifer and many more!

@littlelovelyspiderling

Here we are with another writer who goes all in at every fanfic they work on. If you're into long fanfics with not only tickles, fluff, and friendship but also want some well-thought-through plot, detailed reactions, and descriptive writing that pulls you into the story, you're at the right place. You do not only find them on Tumblr, but they also own an Ao3 Account you should check out too.

Recommendations:

Spider-Man / The Avengers

A Sinister Situation (Peter and the Sinister Six)

Dailed to Eleven (Peter and Tony)

Interrogation (Peter, Scott, Steve, and Bucky)

Tickle Monsters (Peter, Sam and Bucky)

ATLA (Avatar the last Airbender)

The Competition (Zuko, Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka)

Mending (Zuko, Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka)

Legacy (Zuko and Iroh)

Also writes non-tickle fanfics like their SpideyTorch Fanfic "Meeting the Real You". If you are into SpideyTorch and love long fanfics you should check it out.

@amazingmsme

The following two fics left a great impression on me, I absolutely adore them. Sadly I'm not into any of the other fandoms, but you should defenitely check this blog if the fandoms mentioned below are what you are into. This blog has a lot of fics, drabbles and prompts to over and is very active, there is a lot of content (not only t-fics) to check out!

Recommendations

Spider-Man / The Avengers

Avenger Hazing (Peter, Bucky and Sam)

Swatting More Than Flies (Peter, Bucky and Sam)

Also writes/wrote for: New Girl, Spies are Forever, Umbrella Academy, Marvel, Stranger Things and more!

@cantwritethetword

If you're looking for fanfics with the topics of friendship, banter, playfulness and of course the tickles, Crow's blog might offer you the perfect deal with all of that. You can read his works on his Ao3 Account too!

Recommendations

Marvel (Daredevil, Avengers, Spidey etc)

Good Vibrations (Matt and Foggy)

Blind Man's Bluff (Matt and Foggy)

Shenanigans (Tony, Steve and Bucky)

Show Me What You Got! (Peter and Quentin)

Don't Stop Believing (Steve, Bucky and Thor)

This is a prompt I really like so no title (Peter and Bucky)

Every Hero Has An Achilles Heel (Steve, Bucky and Peter)

Also writes /wrote for: Heartstopper, DC, Merlin, Moon Knight. Doctor Who and many more!

@lovemybluebully

You might have caught onto my obsession with Marvel tickle fanfics... But how can I stop when there are writers like @lovemybluebully, who create one masterpiece after another? They know how to catch the essence of every character. They are also active on Fanfic.net, so check that out.

Recommendations

Venom

Apologize!! (Eddie and Venom)

Is This a Joke? (Eddie and Venom)

Let's Be Lazy (Eddie and Venom)

Share Or Die (Eddie and Venom)

Deadpool & Wolverine

It's for Science (Logan and Wade)

Over My Dead Body (Logan and Wade)

How To Pet A Wolverine (Logan and Wade)

A Small Lapse of Judgement (Wade and Logan)

Also writes/wrote for: X-Men, Overwatch and Punisher!

@berrys-hide-out

A new writer who knows how to write fluff and playfullness very well. The following two fics never fail to make me smile. Does also likes to create OCs and also writes non-tickle fics.

Recommendations

Break time, webbing and play time (Peter and Tony)

Run (Peter and Loki)

Also writes/wrote for: All Saints Street, Eighty Six 86, Genshin Impact and more!

#vis's recommendations #fanfic rec #tickle fanfic #tickling #marvel tickle fics #marvel #supernatural #supernatural tickle fics #venom #iron man #spider man #daredevil #captain america #atla #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool #wolverine #guardians of the galaxy

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motherofdogs1010 · 1 year ago

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Masterlist

I write with chubby-coded/plus sized, racial inclusive readers in mind; very rarely do I mention anything about a reader's physical appearance, all are welcome and are written in mind for everyone to enjoy!!

Must be 18+ to join taglists

I also take frequent mental health breaks since I do suffer from poor mental health, BUT writing is my safe space so I will always come back to you guys ❤️

Key:

💋 18 + Smut

😊 Fluff

💔 Angst

🖤 Dark Storyline

😉 Omegaverse

Laurel Sickness (Sonny Carisi x Reader) 🖤

Summary: Laurel Sickness is an case of extreme case of obsessive love that is sweeping the globe with no explanation. People are becoming just as mad as Apollo once was when he first set his godly eyes on the virgin nymph, Daphne.

Warnings: 18+ only, dark!fic, toxic behavior, gaslighting, dystopian society, dark!Sonny Carisi, stalking, stalker!Sonny Carisi, the world's messed up in this story, age gap relationship, forced relationship, eventual non-con/dub-con, Stockholm Syndrome

Part I Part II TBA

Need to Know (Peter Parker x Reader) 💋

Inspired by Doja Cat's "Need to Know"

Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.

Warnings: older woman/younger man, age gap relationship, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, daddy kink, mentions of cheating, toxic ex behavior, eventual pregnancy

Part I Part II Part III COMING SOON

Please, Please (Peter Parker x Reader) 💋

Re-write of 'Need to Know'

Part I

Little Darling (Thomas Shelby x Reader) 💋

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, stripper!reader, mentions of prostitution/sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence, swearing, drinking

Part I Part II Part III Part IV COMING SOON

Letters to Juliet & Romeo (Thomas Shelby x Reader) 😊💔

Inspired by 'Letters to Juliet' film...

Summary: Heartbroken and in the midst of the Great War as a nurse, Y/N L/N writes to a person she never expected to write to before... her brother's friend, Thomas Shelby... But the war's over now and it is time to face the letters...

Warnings: angst, wartime talk, fluff, reunion, pre-Peaky Blinders Tommy, solider!Tommy, nurse!Reader, chubby!reader, age gap (everyone is of age)

Part I Part II

Of Messiahs and Seeds (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader) 🖤💋

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual NONCON/DUBCON, eventual forced marriage and pregnancy, violence, language, drinking, chubby!reader, dark!Paul Atreides, spoilers for Dune Part 2

Part I Part II Part III Part IV COMING SOON

A Jedi in Arrakis (Paul Atreides x Reader) 💋💔😊

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: jedi!reader, eventual 18+, NSFW, angst, fluff, eventual smut/pinv!sex, oral sex, talks of questioning the Force and teachings, spoilers for Dune Part I and II, eventual marriage

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI TBA

Solar Flare (Feyd-Rautha x Reader) 💋

Summary: Chosen as the bride of na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, Y/N finds herself at the hands of the sadistic na-Baron who seems keen on having his bride on their wedding night...

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, arranged marriage, DUBCON/ pinv sex, fingering, loss of virginity, brief knife kink, small breeding kink, crude language, forced arranged marriage

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & me

Banner by @vase-of-lilies

#masterlist #law and order svu #peaky blinders #dune #peaky blinders imagine #dunexreader #svuxreader #tommy shelby x reader #reader x character

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musetember · 3 months ago

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your generation has, like, zero attention span for epic tales

Questies! Welcome to Musetember, our prompt challenge during September based on the Ancient Greek muses and the ways their stories and themes can inspire fanfiction and art.

We have nine different themed prompts and a special tenth - The Chorus - that invites you to participate through commenting or lists of recommendations.

Unfamiliar with the muses? We’ll take you on a journey through them all. Every muse inspires, but each has a domain that resonates with her the most. Write a story that embodies the muse who speaks to you most strongly, or write something inspired by each one in turn. You can interpret their domains as broadly or as literally as you like; the main thing is to create in whatever way feels best to you.

Calliope invites you to tell us an epic tale. Whether it’s the final battle between good and evil on Andowyne or a re-telling of an ancient legend from the old gods and heroes of our world, this is your chance to go ageless and big. What’s an epic tale? Classically these were long works like The Odyssey, passed down in stories upon stories. Don’t have the attention span for a tale quite that epic in length? Maybe your tale is epic in scale or ambition, rather than word count.

Melpomene looks deep into your heart and asks you, what is the worst that could happen? The muse of tragedy, she has seen over and over again the ruinous and inescapable paths people create for themselves and the ones they love. How could Sorsha doom her daughter to a loveless marriage? When hope is lost, what survives?

Thalia is here to make you laugh. With her, it’s time to embrace the most ridiculous premises, the silliest goobers and the bawdiest jokes you can imagine. Really revel in the humorous side of Willow, a comedy of errors, even a vaudeville au - just don’t forget that happy ending.

Erato - more like E-rated! Erato is the muse of erotica, so it’s time to get your smut on. Write a moment of intense passion, of aching desire, of the deepest, horniest bond imaginable.

Clio is your invitation to look into the past. As the muse of history, she’ll be with you whether you’re exploring the story of the first six fey to be cast out of the Grove, or if you’re deep in the research for a historical au in our world.

Polyhymnia welcomes you to explore religion and ritual. Speak to us of the Order of the Wyrm, of beliefs that shape the lives of the Bone Reavers… or of Catholic schoolgirls just trying to catch a moment together.

Euterpe sings. The stage is set and the orchestra is waiting - it’s time to celebrate music. Embrace the inspiration found in song lyrics, in band dynamics, in a brand new video edit, or ask yourself: does Kit really know how to play those instruments in her room?

Terpsichore extends her hand to draw you into a dance. From sexy grinding in a modern au to an aching slow dance in the rain, dance can be about self-expression or tight, rigid control.

Urania looks far beyond this world and draws your attention to the stars, to the two moons lighting up the sky. The muse of astronomy is as present in the far reaches of the galaxy in a sci-fi au as she is in the constellation of Jade’s freckles.

Finally, we come to the Chorus. In Ancient Greek works, the Chorus often represents a voice speaking to or with the audience, a bridge between the world of the story and the world outside it. The Chorus is vital. Without their commentary, something important is lost from a story. Those who comment on fanfiction as just as important - you readers are part of this challenge too! Tell the writers what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. Leave a comment on a favourite story that fits the thematic domain of each muse. Write up a rec list for your favourite muse, and share your favourites so that others can discover them and dive in.

Rules and some specific writing challenges below the read more!

Writing Challenges:

Still needing more inspiration? There are different ways you can approach this. You can write whatever style your heart wants, or you could try your hand at one of these challenges that interpret the muses’ calls in different ways.

The Fragment Challenge Write a drabble of 100 words, or write multiple drabbles as if they were glimpses into the same story with missing pieces in between. For artists, share a fragment of a work in progress - anything unfinished!

The Epistolary Challenge Write in the form of letters, a diary, newspaper clippings, social media posts… Or how about Nockmaar’s trip advisor?

The Lost Scene Challenge Write or draw a scene we missed out on in canon, or a scene that gives the impression it is part of a longer, unwritten fic.

All of these give you a fun way to explore the things you choose not to tell the audience, and play off the Ancient Greek theme that our muses inspire.

Rules/FAQ

How long does the challenge last?

From September 1, 2024 until Oct 6, 2024.

How do I share my cool stuff?

If it's a fanwork appropriate for AO3, we'd love it if you added it to the challenge AO3 collection, which will be open until the challenge ends!

What pairings apply? Is this just Tanthamore?

This challenge is open to all Willow fanworks! You can create things for any prompt with any character or characters from Willow, you can write different pairings, you can do whatever you want forever. Just make sure that your fics are tagged appropriately!

Can my work be any rating?

Yes absolutely! Write the most E-rated thing your little heart desires, just tag it as such so readers can decide for themselves what they'd like to engage with.

Can it be any length?

Sure! There is no minimum or maximum word limit.

Does it have to be based in Willow canon?

Nope - it can be canon, canon-divergent, or any kind of AU you would like to write!

Does it have to be finished?

Nope, not at all. If one of the prompts inspires you to start a long fic, you are still totally welcome to add it to the collection during September and carry on working on it after the challenge is over.

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aresielle · 4 months ago

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We often see on social media or in comment under articles "X will nether do that. It's illogical and bad writing." about a character who fall to the dark side of the force.

I think peoples forget, the fist think to disappear, when someone fall, is logic and rationality. Darksider are not logical. They are not rational. They 're doing the opposite of the reason why they fall initially. And they always made the worse decisions ever.

Anakin go from "I want to save my wife. I like to be a hero" to "I choke her. I'll kill everybody, the women and the children too".

Dooku, from "the republic and the jedi are corrupt" to "I create a gouvernement more corrupt than the galactic senate and a war who will force the jedi to act somehow more again their moral code." And he didn't see a problem.

Maul. His name is an explanation enough for anyone who had watch the clone war cartoon. There is nothing rational in his "KEEENNNOOOBBBBBBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII !!!".

Palpatine. He seems fine at first. And when we analyse his decisions ... we begun to doubt his choices. His own kidnapping at the beginning of episode III. The way he handle Anakin and Luke in episode VI when he know Anakin is irrational about his family since day one. Staying in the second death star while nagging the rebel.

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo ... like Maul, this guy is not really an exemple of good logical decisions. He makes bad decisions faster than his father made the Kessel run. Who run to Soke instead of his mother, Leia Organa, when his uncle try to kill him? She is a biggest tread to Luke.

Reva and the inquisitors in general. Their jobs is to capture or kill jedi. So of course they go around the galaxie telling people "have you see a jedi? These loosers who are kind, compassionate and help peoples?" . It's pic logical's tactic for hunting jedi.

To be fair sometimes they seems to realise they made a mistake somewhere. Like Qimir when he look at Mae in episode 2 and 4. Or Palpatine when the invisible hand crash on Coruscant. They have the same "why did I choose this idiot as my apprentice" look.

So Osha following the hot guy who kill her old friend, Yord, and Jecki, her sister padawan she just meet, and try to kill her twin sister Mae is following this pattern of stupid choice done by people who fall to the dark side of the force. It's stupid. It's irrational. I think that's the point.

Yoda says the dark side is quicker, easier, more seductive. He forget to say you will loose your brain cells in the process.

#star wars #spoilers #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #anakin skywalker #osha aniseya #count dooku #sheev palpatine #darth maul

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moonlightmp3 · 6 months ago

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#voyz boy #galaxy / re-write #beautiful star #audio

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imagines--galore · 5 months ago

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Hi! I saw you were doing Jim Hawkins requests so here I am!

Can we have Jim x gn!reader who is a musician and frequently performs at the Inn? and so as reader spends more time there Jim ends up crushing on them?

(Bonus points if reader ends up writing a song abt Jim agsgsgaga)

Summary: Music was a language understood throughout the entire galaxy. Hopefully the cute boy working at the Inn you performed at finally gets the message you were trying to send him through your song. Pairing: Jim Hawkins x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Tooth-rotting aching fluff. Thats what I wrote here. Not that I'm complaining. :P And yes I did write the poem or song or bunch of words that I thought would make a good song? I dunno. Hope you enjoy!

"Alright then Mrs Hawkins! Everything is set up and ready to go for tonight's grand re-opening." You called out, jumping down from the ladder where you were hanging another streamer from the ceiling. Sarah Hawkins glanced up from where she had been finalizing the menu. "It looks amazing y/n, though honestly I would prefer if you call me Sarah instead, you've been working at the Inn for so long now." She said with that soft maternal smile you always wore.

You shrugged, pushing your hands in your pockets. "I could, but I've been calling you Mrs Hawkins, or Mrs H for so long now it would seem weird." You admitted, a sheepish smile pulling at your lips. Sarah stood from her seat and approached you with her arms out. You eagerly accepted the hug. "Oh I can't believe its been so long. Nearly seven years and here you still are. My best musician." The praise had you rolling your eyes a little, though it didn't stop the blush to form on your cheeks.

"I'm your only musician Mrs H." You reminded her, to which the older woman simply laughed and tapped your nose playfully. "Because you're the best. So why would I need anyone else?"

With that Sarah walked towards the kitchen, hoping to wrap up the last of the food items to be cooked for that night's party.

The re-opening of the Benbow Inn.

You had been just as devastated as Sarah when it had burned down. The Inn had become something of a sanctuary for you. A place where you could come and just be yourself, and not have to put up a strong front given your lack of family.

Oh you had a family. A father who preferred to work before drowning away whatever sorrows he had in alcohol. Leaving you to fend for yourself from a rather young age.

You had begun to do little odd jobs to try and earn some money. School was free, as was the lunch that they served, and you bought clothes from the cheapest shop possible.

But what you really wanted the money for, was to get a new piano. Or really any musical instrument.

Music was everything for you. It was your way to express all that you felt. Not to mention it was the only connection you had to your mother.

She had taught you everything you knew when she had been alive. Every note, every song, ever key, every symphony, it was all her.

You had her old piano at home. And when your father wasn't home you would try your best to coax a tune out of the instrument. It was old and needed quite a few repairs and tuning, but that cost a lot of money.

So, you did odd jobs to try and come up with that.

But it wasn't until you had seen an ad in the newspaper, inquiring after a musician who could play at an Inn, did you ever think of working while playing music.

You had rushed to the address, and after a short meeting with the owner, and a few demos of you playing on the piano there, which was in much better condition then your own, you were hired.

And you loved every moment of it.

Not just because you got to play for hours on end, but also because Sarah Hawkins, was an amazing boss. She had taken one look at your pinched face and skinny body, and had thrown in a free hot meal during your work hours. You had tried to tell her no, but the woman had insisted. So, you opted to help out in the kitchen whenever things would get too busy at the Inn.

But, primarily, you played the piano, contributing to the light and fun atmosphere of the Inn, and generally pleasing the patrons. You played tunes from all over the galaxy, and everyone had requests.

The best part about working at the Inn though?

You met Jim Hawkins.

You had seen him around school before, and you were a little embarrassed to admit, but you did have a crush on him. He was cute, not to mention cool and smart.

Working at the Inn, which you had no idea his mother owned, gave you the chance to get to know him better. Talk to him, and just be around him.

And though you had been a little nervous at first, slowly that had all changed, and the both of you became friends.

Well he was your friend whom you had a crush on.

Little did you know, you were also the friend he had a crush on.

Not that either of you would come out and say it out loud. Besides you barely had time to do anything other then work at the Inn, school and take care of things at home. You didn't have time for boys.

But then Jim found a strange round map and pirates burned the Inn down in search of it.

You were made aware of it all the next morning when you arrived for work and was met with the charred skeletal remains of the place you thought of as your second home. Devastation snaked under your skin and settled into your heart. A gasp of horror fell from your lips as you thought of Mrs Hawkins and Jim.

Had they made it out?

Luckily one of the fire squad patrons were nearby and informed you that they were safe were staying with a friend. With the address memorized you raced towards your destination on the scooter you and Jim had scraped from the junkyard and fixed.

Or rather you had stood to the side while he fixed it.

Though you'd been told they were alive, you didn't believe it.

And wouldn't believe it until you saw them both for yourself.

You banged on the door of the rather large estate, pushing past Dr. Doppler as soon as he opened the door. Voices from down the corridor had you racing down the polished floors with the good Doctor at your heels.

The moment you burst through the doors and saw both Jim and his Mother sitting around a small table, a strange sound escaped you. One that was a combination of several emotions, but the only one you were able to properly comprehend was the relief that coursed through your veins.

Though it was nothing compared to the elation you felt once you had calmed down and had engulfed both of them in a hug that remade your heart.

It didn't take too long for everything to be explained, and though you were a little unsure of the expedition, you didn't voice it. Not when Jim got so excited talking about it. You could see that Sarah shared your uncertainty as well, but then she didn't say anything either. Once the older woman had excused herself to get to bed, and Dr. Doppler had wandered off to gather more books and such for the journey ahead, you turned your attention to Jim.

"You sure this is a good idea Jim? I mean chasing a story never ends well." But Jim only held up the round orb which you had learned was the map to Treasure Planet. "Y/n, this thing is proof that its more then just stories. And like I told Mom, with that treasure we can build a new Inn. We can even fit it with the piano you've always wanted."

A little taken aback that he would want to share the treasure with you and actually buy something you would love surprised you. You blinked but pushed that feeling aside in favor of continuing the conversation. "Treasure and truth aside, Jim are you sure? I mean your mom will be all alone." You said, glancing in the direction of the door where Sarah had walked out of an hour or so ago.

Had it really been that long since they'd been talking?

Jim frowned. "What do you mean she'll be alone? Won't you come and visit her?" He asked, the confusion clear on his face. You blinked, mouth falling open in surprise. "Wa-wait, of course I'll come visit her-" You began, only to be cut off by him. "Then she won't be alone. I know you'll take care of her while I'm gone."

You stared.

How was it possible that one boy could cause your heart to stop and then restart again?!

And with the way he was looking at you with those wide eyes!

You groaned. "You're doing it again." You grumbled, shoving him back by his face. Jim laughed, knowing exactly what you meant, having used the tactic before. "I know, but I also know I don't have to convince you because you'll come anyway."

Rolling your eyes you kicked at his legs from under the table. "Yeah, yeah. Just-" You trailed off, biting your lower lip and glancing at the table before looking back up at him.

"Just be careful. I don't want to loose you too."

The light of the fire hid the blush that blazed across your cheeks, though it didn't diminish the worry in your eyes. Jim, now wearing a serious expression, reached out to take your hand and give it a comforting squeeze.

"You won't. I promise."

You lived with that promise through the months he was gone.

And when he returned, triumphant and the hero he was always meant to be, you had hugged him as tightly as you could. To your delight, where he had always held back a little when it came to hugs, this one was unrestrained and just as eagerly given as it was received.

Now here you were, settling onto the bench as the party-goers quietened down so that you would begin to play. Sarah had spared no expense, and had even bought you a new dress for the occasion. You'd been reluctant at first, but a nudge from Jim had you accepting the dress.

What you had truly been eager for, was to play on the piano once again.

True to his word, Jim had bought the piano you had wanted for so long. You'd very nearly kissed the boy right then and there, but had settled for a hug that toppled him over.

Though you did sneak in a peck to the cheek before you continued to coo over the instrument.

And now you would get to play a rather special song on it.

One that you had written yourself during the months Jim had been away. This song was your love letter to the boy you had fallen in love with.

What they said was true.

Absence made the heart grow fonder.

And it hadn't taken you long to realize that your feelings for your friend went beyond that of simple friendship.

As you played a few experimental keys, your eyes drifted to where Jim stood in his brand new Academy uniform next to his Mother. His encouraging smile was all you needed.

You began to play.

And then you began to sing.

A big surprise since you hardly ever sang in public.

Let me keep you where my belief lies For if I do not become yours I shall never belong to anyone

The words had come to you, late at night when you had been in bed, your heart aching with how much you missed him.

Wherever should the wind take you I wish to be by your side

You had always known Jim would soar higher then anyone you could ever to know. You just hoped that he would allow you to remain by his side when he did.

These winds may be fleeting Carry us to places never before explored But I do not care so long as you are with me And I with you

Anything to be with him. To be beside him and share in his next adventure. Even if it meant staying behind and waiting for him to come back to you.

Whatever memories that we create They shall remain with us forevermore For in them my true strength lies That helps me get through the day and the nights

And those memories of you both, going about your lives, getting in trouble, digging through the junkyard with him, him sitting to listen to you practice for hours on end? They had been what had helped you get through the days and nights.

The very essence of my thoughts Exist because of you and for you With every caress of the wind I can hear your name echoing all around me

Where your gaze had been trained on the ivory keys as your finger danced along them, now they raised up. Only to find Jim standing next to your beside the piano. Watching you with a strange look in his eyes. One that you had never seen in them before Why does your face resemble my dreams? Perhaps you weren't mine yesterday Nor will you be mine tomorrow But you are mine today

The final keys of the song died as your fingers stilled. But you weren't done.

Not yet.

"For all my love is yours." You barely sang the final lyric as you stood up, whispering the words instead as Jim reached out and gently took your hand.

He smiled at you.

And you smiled at him.

The assembled guests burst into applause. But neither of you truly noticed. He leaned in, and you closed your eyes as he drew closer.

His lips found yours, and you knew.

Your fears were unfounded.

For you would never loose him.

#jim hawkins x y/n #jim hawkins x reader #jim hawkins #jim hawkins x oc #treasure planet #disney

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swan-of-sunrise · 2 months ago

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Wandavision (The Scarlet Witch Saga, Part I)

Summary: (Y/N) meets with S.W.O.R.D.’s Director Hayward in an attempt to reclaim Vision’s remains for burial but after Wanda makes an unexpected and hostile appearance at their headquarters, both women uncover far more than they’d originally bargained for…

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry it's been so long between stories, but I've been taking care of my mother post-hip replacement surgery and I haven't had very much free time to write. However, I found the time to finish this little angst-filled one-shot up, so yay! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Wandavision Part I of The Scarlet Witch Saga November 2023 S.W.O.R.D. Headquarters, Florida (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

“I’m sorry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but Director Hayward’s itinerary is completely booked-”

“And yet, I was assured over the phone by his secretary that he would finally be available to meet with me today at eleven o’clock, which is…” (Y/N) made a show of pulling back the sleeve of her blouse to look at her watch. “Right now. I don’t appreciate being given the runaround, so I suggest that you give his office another buzz before I come back with a few Avengers; believe me, they won’t be as friendly and accommodating as I am.”

The security guard gulped, snatching up his phone’s handset and hastily punching in the extension to Director Hayward’s office as (Y/N) leaned against his desk and looked up at the towering screens that lined the lobby’s walls. News footage from all across the world played one after the other, each of them depicting families being reunited and celebrations taking place in the wake of the Battle of Earth, and a wistful smile tugged on the corner of her lip. Although it had been nearly three weeks since they’d completed their Time Heist and Bruce utilized the Infinity Stones to bring the Vanished back, she still couldn’t quite believe that they’d done it; Carina, Sam, Bucky and every other friend and teammate they’d lost that traumatic day five years ago in Wakanda was back. But as the news footage changed to coverage of Tony and Natasha’s deaths and all the memorial services being held across the world in their honor, (Y/N)’s smile fell and she quickly averted her gaze from the screens.

In the wake of Tony and Natasha’s deaths, it had fallen to (Y/N) to pay a visit to S.W.O.R.D.’s headquarters in Florida to retrieve Vision’s body and arrange for his burial. Fury had pulled several strings before departing for space and finally managed to uncover where the android’s body was being held, even going so far as to discover that there were several proposed plans floating around the organization to study his remains for the development of high-tech weapons. Since her fellow Avengers were busy helping to re-stabilize Earth and countless other planets across the galaxy and Steve was at home with Carina – and, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Steve Rogers was presumed dead after the Battle of Earth – (Y/N) volunteered to represent the Avengers in a meeting with Director Tyler Hayward to discuss the return of the fallen Avenger’s body. Now, why do I get the feeling that S.W.O.R.D. isn’t just going to hand over Vis out of the goodness of their hearts, she thought to herself with a frustrated sigh, mindful of the half-healed cut across her stomach (an aggravating physical memento from her brief clash with Thanos) as she straightened her posture and looked out at the bustling lobby.

“Oh shit…” (Y/N) swore under her breath as she spotted none other than Wanda Maximoff striding towards the security guard’s desk; the younger woman’s expression was nothing short of incensed, with her green eyes blazing and her lips pressed into the thinnest of lines, but her expression subtly softened when her gaze landed on (Y/N). With the memory of Wanda’s near-defeat of the Mad Titan still fresh in her mind, she pushed herself off the desk and stepped forward to deescalate the situation before it began. “Wanda, I tried to call but all I got was your voicemail-”

“I was tracking down a lead when you called, and I came down here the moment I listened to your message,” The younger woman interrupted, and she looked around the busy lobby with an air of suspicion. “So, this Director Hayward has agreed to meet with you?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yes, but now that I’m here, they’re trying to tell me that I was never penciled in and that his schedule’s fully booked for today.”

Wanda’s eyes briefly glowed scarlet as her lip curled up and without another word, she brushed past (Y/N) and stormed up to the security guard’s desk. “I know you have him.”

“I-I’m sorry, but like I already told Mrs. (Y/L/N)-”

“Please…” She trailed off when she spotted the nearest armed guards tighten their grips on their weapons and while (Y/N) cautiously moved to stand beside her, she took a steadying breath and forced herself to calmly continued. “Please. When I came back, he was gone. His body…” Her voice shook with barely-restrained emotion and her fingers anxiously tugged on the cuff of her jacket’s sleeve. “And I know he’s here. He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it.”

The security guard’s growing discomfort was alleviated by the ringing of his desk phone; with a barely-perceptible sigh of relief, he snatched up the receiver and listened to the speaker on the other end of the line. “Yes, sir. Yeah, she’s still here.” Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) watched Wanda stare intently at the security camera affixed to the wall behind the desk and a shiver ran down her spine; I’ve got a bad feeling about all this, she thought to herself, her fingers anxiously twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger. “Are you sure? O-Of course…” The security guard’s forehead was beaded with sweat as he set the receiver down and looked back up at (Y/N). “Through the doors, down the hall. Two lefts and a right.” Wanda pushed herself off the desk and started towards the guarded double doors off to the side, forcing (Y/N) to flash him a fleeting smile of thanks and hurry after her. “One moment, I have to buzz you in.”

“I got it, thanks!” Wanda’s voice dripped with sarcasm and before anyone could react, she lobbed a ball of scarlet-hued energy towards the locked double doors that forced them open, the walls shuddering as they slammed against them; ignoring the stares of dozens of security personnel, armed guards and employees and the uncomfortable tugging on her stitches, (Y/N) quickened her pace and fell into step with the younger woman. “You disapprove of my methods, don’t you?”

(Y/N) hummed thoughtfully and followed it up with a half-hearted shrug. “Well, they did try to waste my time back there, time that I’d much rather spend with my husband and newly-returned daughter, so I can’t say that I entirely disapprove. But Wanda…” They turned left and continued walking down the hall. “We’ve got to play this carefully. Do you know what S.W.O.R.D. stands for?”

“Honestly, I don’t care,” Wanda snapped, but quickly grew contrite when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s arched brow. “Sorry. What does it stand for?”

“Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division. A few years ago, they redirected most of their resources to studying and developing robotics, nanotechnology and A.I.; they essentially stopped studying and began to both design and build their own weaponry.” They turned another corner and (Y/N) carefully weighed her words before continuing. “My point is that this organization might’ve once been dedicated to defending Earth from extra-terrestrial and extra-dimensional threats, but they’ve evolved into quite a formidable agency and one that won’t easily bow to external pressure. We’re Avengers and we just saved the world, but that doesn’t mean that things can’t and won’t go south if we burst into this asshat’s office and start making demands.”

Pursing her lips, Wanda ruminated on her statement and as they turned right into an empty hallway, she shook her head in disbelief. “So, you’re suggesting diplomacy for the organization that’s withholding my lover’s corpse from me?”

(Y/N)’s hand reached out to clasp Wanda’s forearm and she succeeded in halting their momentum for a moment; she looked around for any signs of security cameras or employees before lowering her voice and answering, “I’m suggesting self-preservation, Wanda; you know better than anybody how quickly these organizations can turn on someone the moment their interests stop aligning with theirs.” A lump of emotion formed in her throat and just as she’d done for nearly three weeks, she blinked away her tears and forced herself to smile. “Nat’ll come back from wherever she is and personally kick my ass if I let you end up in the Raft again.”

The younger woman’s green eyes softened, and the air hung heavy around them as they both thought about their fallen friend. “She would, wouldn’t she?” Taking a deep breath, she gently pried (Y/N)’s fingers away from her arm and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Self-preservation it is.”

They shared a look of understanding before continuing down the hallway and approaching a metal-plated door near its end; the engraved plaque on the wall beside it read ‘Level 101: Director’ and as they came to a stop, the electronic keycard reader below it blinked green and the lock clicked open. (Y/N) straightened her posture and opened the door, stepping into an impressive office and immediately fixing her gaze upon the salt-and-pepper haired man getting up from his desk to greet them. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Wanda Maximoff. It’s an honor to meet you both, truly.” (Y/N) reluctantly shook Director Hayward’s outstretched hand as he gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’d like to offer you my condolences, Mrs. (Y/L/N); your husband was a personal hero of mine, and his loss is a profound tragedy.”

It took a moment for (Y/N) to remember the lie that Nick Fury had helped to propagate and spread from the shadows for the past several weeks: that Steve Rogers was reported missing in action in the wake of the Battle of Earth and was presumed to have died while fighting Thanos. It was the lie they’d crafted together after he’d returned from his final mission de-serumed and steadfast in his desire to retire from the mantle he’d carried for decades in favor of a quiet life with (Y/N) and Carina, but it was a challenging one to maintain when she knew that he was safe at their home in Brooklyn with their daughter. Rearranging her features into a sorrowful expression with the ease of a trained spy, (Y/N) offered the older man a tight smile and nodded. “Thank you, Director.”

“Who are you?” Wanda demanded, her tone sharp and borderline accusatory as she took a step forward and pointedly refused to shake the director’s hand.

Director Hayward took her hostility in stride, lowering his hand and giving her a polite smile. “Director Tyler Hayward. I understand you’re both here to see the Vision – to recover the body, that is – is that right?”

“Well, I’m his next of kin,” She replied and gestured towards (Y/N). “And she’s here acting as the official representative of the Avengers in this matter.”

“I understand. I’d like to show you both something.”

The alarm bells had already begun to go off in (Y/N)’s head, but there was something about his statement and the glint in his eyes that immediately gave her pause. “And then you’ll give him to us?”

Instead of answering, Director Hayward crossed the room and opened a glass door for them to enter. “Please, just come with me.”

(Y/N) and Wanda exchanged a distrustful look before stepping through the doorway and into what appeared to be an observation room comprised of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a set of armchairs. The buzzing and whirring of power tools nearby quickly drew (Y/N)’s attention, prompting her to walk up to the wall of glass and look down; the scene below reminded her of a mechanic’s garage, with four floodlights illuminating a handful of S.W.O.R.D. personnel dressed in protective gear, who were working to dismantle five separate sections of machinery as armed agents stood guard. The machinery’s unusual shade of maroon and uniquely-shaped panels of silver instantly drew her suspicion, and it only took her a moment to come to the sickening realization that what they were viewing was Vision’s unceremoniously dismembered corpse.

“Oh my God…” (Y/N) covered her mouth and stared down at the grisly scene below in horror, her stomach churning at the desecration of her friend’s body and her heart sinking when she caught a glimpse of Wanda’s confusion in the reflection of the glass as she took a step closer.

“What is this? Why are you showing us this?”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder to see a visibly puzzled Director Hayward’s head tilt to the side as he slowly answered, “Because you asked to see it.”

Tears prickled in (Y/N)’s eyes while Wanda looked back down into the laboratory; the color slowly drained from the younger woman’s face and her lip trembled with emotion when one of the S.W.O.R.D. scientists moved and revealed the decapitated head of her lover. A quiet sob escaped her and her hands came up to press against the glass, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the synthezoid’s corpse. “Stop…stop…stop it!” She whirled around to face the director. “What are you doing to him?”

“We’re dismantling the most sophisticated, sentient weapon ever made.”

Wanda’s eyes filled with tears as she insistently shook her head. “But Vision’s not a weapon. You can’t do this!”

Unfazed by her emotional reaction, Director Hayward’s lips pursed together in an obvious attempt to appear sympathetic. “In fact, it is our legal and ethical obligation.”

“You know, I could’ve sworn that Vision was created using stolen vibranium from Wakanda, not America.” A surge of white-hot indignation filled (Y/N) as she faced the director and crossed her arms over her chest. “But what the hell do I know? I was only there the day that Ultron bought that vibranium off of Ulysses Klaue in Johannesburg.”

“The Vision signed the Sokovia Accords in 2016. With it, he established his personhood and shortly thereafter took the necessary steps to becoming a naturalized citizen of the United States of America.”

“Seriously, that’s what you’re going with?! You know as well as I do that the Sokovia Accords are currently in the process of being repealed, and all I have to do is call up the King of Wakanda to-”

“I just wanna bury him,” Wanda forcefully interrupted their escalating face off. “That’s all I want.”

Director Hayward’s hazel-colored eyes narrowed as he studied Wanda’s grief-stricken features. “Are you sure?”

A look of incredulity flashed in Wanda’s eyes and while (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in befuddlement, the younger woman recoiled away from the director. “Excuse me?”

“What exactly are you getting at, Director?” (Y/N) demanded.

“Not everyone has the kind of power that could bring their soulmate back online, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” There was a strange cadence in the older man’s voice that quickly put her on edge; seemingly realizing the strangeness of his statement, Director Hayward rearranged his features into a more apologetic expression. “Forgive me. Back to life.”

Wanda shook her head. “No, I-I can’t do that. It’s…that’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay. But I cannot allow you two to take three-billion dollars’ worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground.” While the younger woman turned back around to look down into the bustling laboratory below, (Y/N) paced the floor and shook her head in incredulity. “So, the best I can do is let you say goodbye to him here.”

Wanda’s hands moved to rest against the window as she softly replied, “He’s all that I have.”

“Well, that’s just it, Wanda. He isn’t yours.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to denounce the director’s callous words, but several things caught her attention all at the same time: the look of almost eager anticipation on Director Hayward’s face, the reflection of Wanda’s grief-stricken expression in the glass and the scarlet-hued energy beginning to emanate from the palms of her hands. With only a split-second advantage, (Y/N) spun away from the windows and shielded her head with her arms just as the glass shattered in a deafening explosion; the S.W.O.R.D. agents screamed and ran for cover as they were pelted with fragmented glass, and she could hear the armed guards collectively ready their weapons. (Y/N) lowered her arms in time to watch Wanda wave her glowing crimson hands and descend into the laboratory, seemingly transfixed by the remains of her deceased lover and unaware of the semi-automatic guns pointed directly at her.

“Wanda, no!” (Y/N) hurried over to the very edge of the floor and, ignoring the surge of fear in her stomach that came from her long-standing fear of heights, leaned forward for a closer vantage point.

“Fall back,” Director Hayward ordered, and the guards exchanged cautious glances with one another. “It’s fine. Let her see for herself.”

After a tense moment, the armed guards reluctantly lowered their weapons and steered clear as Wanda slowly approached the table containing Vision’s severed and lifeless head. Watching the younger woman hesitantly stretch her hand out and hover her glowing palm over the crater in her lover’s forehead, (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy and she found herself once again cursing Thanos; although the Mad Titan was dead and gone, with his quest to destroy the universe successfully thwarted and the Infinity Stones returned to their rightful places, the overwhelming pain he’d caused them all would remain, and none would suffer under the weight of their grief more than Wanda Maximoff. By the time she’d reached her mid-twenties, Wanda had already lost her parents, her brother, her country, her mentor and her lover and while the rest of the Avengers could turn to their loved ones for support, she was entirely alone. It’s not fair, (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched the younger woman leave Vision’s side and walk through one of the laboratory’s emergency exits, she’s lost so much already and now she’s being denied the one thing that could possibly give her closure.

“I truly am sorry for your loss, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but seeing as he was a fully sentient synthezoid, I believe that the Vision would not only understand but fully support our good work here.”

The director’s words caused (Y/N)’s jaw to clench in anger and her carefully crafted control over her emotions to finally slip; whirling around to face him, she stood tall and unflinchingly stared him down, her fury only growing the longer she studied the artificial sympathy written across his face. “His name was Vision, just Vision, and you don’t know a damn thing about him. You’re a cruel, egotistical, half-baked warmonger who’d love nothing more than to bring that body down there back online to use as a weapon against anyone S.W.O.R.D. deems a threat.” She snorted in derision as the older man pursed his lips in irritation. “You’re no better than S.H.I E.L.D., Director, and you know as well as I do what’ll happen to your little chop shop down there when the Avengers find out what you’re up to.”

“What Avengers? A third of your group of circus freaks are off-world and a third are dead, leaving a half a dozen powerless and mentally-unstable vigilantes to burden us with their problems,” Director Hayward shot back, and the carefully-constructed façade he’d worn since they’d burst into his office finally fell away to reveal a snide smirk. “So I suggest that you stick to writing books and let the adults take over the protection of this planet.”

(Y/N) took a calculated step forward and stared unflinchingly into the director’s eyes for a moment before finally speaking, her tone calm and collected in contrast to his clear vindictiveness. “Believe it or not, I know what my limits are; after all, what can a best-selling historical-fiction novelist do besides make a few phone calls and write a scathing op-ed in a prestigious newspaper?” A humorless smile curved her lips upwards. “But you’re wrong about us ‘circus freaks,’ Director. Not only does Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes possess the highest security clearance that this country has to offer and is tasked with investigating those that the executive branch of our government suspects of breaking both national and international laws, the King of Wakanda has made it his personal mission to ensure that not an ounce of vibranium leaves his country’s sovereign borders; I’m sure that both men will be interested to learn all about your so-called legal and ethical obligation to horde stolen vibranium and how to attempted to goad a mourning Avenger into weaponizing it for you.”

Director Hayward visibly paled but still managed an incredulous scoff. “Is that a threat, Mrs. (Y/L/N)?”

“No, it’s a promise.” (Y/N) strode past the fuming director and through the observation room’s doorway, the shattered glass crunching beneath her high heels as she walked towards the office’s closed door; she grasped the door’s handle but paused, glancing over her shoulder to give Director Hayward one final glare. “Good luck, Director. You’re going to need it.”

Opening the door with more force than necessary, (Y/N) exited the director’s office and stormed down the hallways until she located the lobby, ignoring the security guard’s feeble farewell as she blinked away her tears of frustration and hurried to the front doors. She emerged out into the bright Floridian sun and was forced to shield her face with her hand in order to scan the packed parking lot for Wanda; spotting a burgundy Buick turning out onto the street and catching sight of the driver’s bold scarlet-hued hair, her heart sank into her stomach and she mentally kicked herself for not being quicker. Now she can add my name to the lengthy list of people who’ve failed Wanda Maximoff, (Y/N) thought as her shoulders dropped in dejection. While she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and texted Stephen Strange’s number, she tried not to linger on the memory of her friend’s heartbroken expression and the pain that had filled her green eyes while she grappled with the agony of losing Vision for a second time.

(Y/N): All finished here, eagerly anticipating a portal to get me the hell out of this godforsaken state S. Strange/The Wizard: Sounds like it went about as well as I’d anticipated… (Y/N): Oh, you have no idea ☹

A sparking orange portal appeared beside (Y/N) and whirled itself open to reveal her living room. Ignoring the handful of S.W.O.R.D. employees that were gawking from inside the building’s headquarters, she stepped through the portal and breathed a sigh of relief when the portal closed itself behind her, leaving her standing in her unruly but blessedly private home. They’d accepted Nick Fury’s offer of living in a temporary safehouse while they healed from their traumatic ordeals and acclimated themselves to civilian life, which meant that for the past week, their home was steadily piling high with taped-up moving boxes while they waited for Fury to finish making the final necessary arrangements for their new house; they’d still maintain ownership of their Brooklyn home, of course, but for the next several months, the (Y/L/N)-Rogers family would be calling the peaceful town of Rockport, Maine their home.

“We’re in here, sunshine,” Steve’s voice emanated from the kitchen. After tossing her purse onto the nearest armchair and kicking off her high heels, (Y/N) padded into the kitchen but froze halfway through the doorway at the unusual sight that she was met with; her husband was perched on a stool at the kitchen island with the sleeve of his shirt rolled up, his nose wrinkled in displeasure as a floating syringe punctured the skin of his small bicep, and Stephen Strange, dressed in full Master of the Mystic Arts regalia, was carefully manipulating the hovering syringe with magic as his blue-green eyes narrowed in concentration. “Bruce dropped off my last round of vaccinations; today’s Tdap, Varicella, MMR and an annual flu shot, so I’m feeling particularly pin-cushioney.”

“Well, I think you’ve been a very brave pin cushion, sweetheart.” With a sympathetic smile, (Y/N) crossed the room to where Steve was seated and kissed his cheek. “And all of your Band-Aids are very cute.”

Steve huffed in exaggerated dissatisfaction and Stephen’s lip curled up into his signature smirk; the sorcerer willed the empty syringe away and magically applied another Paw Patrol Band-Aid onto the former super-soldier’s bicep. “Just think, Rogers, in two weeks you’ll finally be able to be around your daughter without wearing a surgical mask, and your de-serumed life will officially begin.”

“Definitely something to look forward to,” Steve conceded, biting back a wince as he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and looked at her expectantly. “How’d your meeting with Director Hayward go?” She grimaced at his question and his expression fell. “That bad, huh?”

(Y/N) shrugged half-heartedly. “Wanda at least showed up but after seeing S.W.O.R.D.’s work firsthand, I wish she hadn’t come at all.”

While she recalled their contentious meeting with Director Hayward, she looked between both men and was struck by their differing reactions to her story; Steve was rightfully enraged on Wanda’s behalf for being denied a sliver of closure and beyond livid when he learned of the organization’s plans for the remains of his former teammate, but Stephen was primarily focused on Director Hayward’s comments regarding Wanda’s powers and the young woman’s momentary loss of control. (Y/N) arched a brow at the sorcerer’s piqued interest but didn’t address it, drawing the conclusion that as a Master of the Mystic Arts, he was naturally curious about powerful beings and their unique skill sets. They were both disgusted by the director’s callous behavior towards her after Wanda departed, with Steve’s jaw clenching tight and Stephen’s eyes narrowing as she spoke, and they both nodded in approval at her biting response to his cold-heartedness.

“I’ll give T’Challa and Rhodey a call to let them know what Hayward’s up to, but I’m afraid that that’s all I can really do.” (Y/N) let out a defeated sigh and twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “Fury made it clear that we can’t afford to draw any unusual attention to ourselves for the time being.”

Steve looked down at the marble countertop as guilt filled his azure eyes. “Because of me.”

“Steve…” Cupping his cheek, she gently coaxed him to look over at her and offered him a small smile of understanding. “After a lifetime spent prioritizing others, you finally chose to prioritize yourself and that shouldn’t make you feel an ounce of guilt. We may not be able to help Wanda ourselves, but we can pass along some very valuable information to the people who will.”

While the former super-soldier returned her smile with one of his own and gave her a chaste kiss, the sorcerer shrugged and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “All I can say is that it’s a real shame this can’t all be solved with a sling-ring, a portal and a little bit of grand theft.”

A soft whimpering began to emanate from the baby monitor resting atop the microwave, drawing (Y/N) and Steve’s immediate attention. “It must be time for Cari’s bottle; I’ll go get her while you start prepping it?” She hummed in agreement, turning to retrieve a clean bottle and a container of formula from the cabinet while Steve approached Stephen with his hand outstretched. “Thank you again for all your help today, Doc.”

“It’s nothing, really. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.” Stephen shook Steve’s hand and chuckled. “I don’t exactly get many opportunities to put my medical degrees to good use, so thanks for that.” After grabbing the baby monitor and donning a fresh surgical mask, Steve left the kitchen and Stephen turned his attention to (Y/N). “I wouldn’t worry too much about Wanda, (Y/N). I’ll keep an eye on her, check in from time to time and make sure she’s doing all right.”

(Y/N) screwed the cap back onto the full bottle and shook it as she studied the older man standing before her, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to his reasoning than selflessness. “You’re concerned about her powers.”

“…I’m more so intrigued by her powers; after all, reckless experimentation with an Infinity Stone somehow imbued her with enough power to nearly kill Thanos and made her one of the most formidable beings on this planet.” Stephen’s quaking fingers withdrew his sling-ring from his pocket and slipped it on with a half-smile. “As the Master of the New York Sanctum Sanctorum, it’s my responsibility to keep a list of every powerful or supernatural person in my general vicinity and after what you’ve just told me, Wanda Maximoff’s shot to the very top of it.”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) watched as the sorcerer waved his hand and created a sparking orange portal that opened into the sanctum’s foyer, contemplating his words before countering them. “I understand. Just don’t…don’t forget that even with all that power, she’s still just a person, Stephen. Promise me?”

“I won’t,” Stephen solemnly vowed, taking a step into the sanctum and turning to give her a small wave. “See you around, (Y/N).”

She smiled and waved back while he closed the portal and in an instant, she was left alone in her kitchen with her daughter’s bottle of formula clutched in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she worked to ground herself and avoid replaying the memories of Wanda’s losses and heartbreaks in her mind, but her effort was for naught; she recalled Clint carrying Pietro Maximoff’s body onto the helicarrier after evacuating Novi Grad, Wanda huddled in the corner of a tiny prison cell with a collar fastened around her neck, Vision using his last words to reassure his distraught lover as she used her powers to destroy him, the anguished cry that echoed throughout the Wakandan clearing when Thanos used the Time Stone to bring Vision back and rip the Mind Stone out of the android’s forehead, the emptiness that remained in Wanda’s eyes throughout Tony and Natasha’s funerals…

“Everything okay out there, baby?”

Shaken out of her memories, (Y/N) wiped away her tears and took another breath before calling back, “I was just seeing Stephen out; I’ll be right there!”

While she made her way through the house to their daughter’s nursery and beamed down at the cooing infant as she took her into her arms and sat down in the room’s rocking chair to feed her her bottle, (Y/N) took solace in the feeling of Steve’s arm draping around her shoulders and the adoration that illuminated Carina’s face. It isn’t fair, she thought again to herself as she absentmindedly hummed the Sokovian lullaby that had been taught to her by Wanda years before, it isn’t fair that we’ve gotten our happily ever after and Wanda’s all alone. With all she’d seen and done throughout the years, it would be foolish not to believe that there wasn’t some sort of higher power out there, so as she was surrounded by her beloved husband and daughter, (Y/N) sent a silent but earnest wish to that power that while she healed from her past traumas, Wanda Maximoff would finally find her own lasting happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: All I want is for Wanda to be happy, but I guess the universe continues to have other plans for her :/ Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

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