#i actually initially thought you meant bed bath and beyond

[hungarianmudkip69]

I have no idea where you got the idea that the founder of bath and body works is a trans man

It's Les Wexner, hes a billionare that also owns Abrocombie and Victorias Secret. He was also one of Epsteins best friends. He's a nasty man and ???? Not trans

this is so funny genuinely thank you for the laugh

[gsophie43]

The Scars That Bind ch.1

Genre: fluff/ angst

word count: 4000+ not guaranteed to be mistake-less

thanks to @alwaysupstead on Twitter (@pd_upstead_fanficstories on Insta) for helping me come up with the title!

Hailey leaned over the sink and slowly breathed to calm down her beating heart. She tried to push down the memories of her direct defiance towards Jay. She took a quick glance into the bedroom, where Jay was sitting in her bed with covers up to his waist as he flipped through something on his phone while waiting for her. She was embarrassed. She was confused at what she was feeling. She was frustrated with herself but at the same time, she was just glad that the case was over. She didn��t deserve him or his kindness. Even though she had had to deal with his mess before, she still felt like he didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of her’s. She breathed deeply, trying to remind herself that he wasn’t the kind of guy to be petty or hold grudges.

“You okay?” His deep voice invaded her thoughts. She opened her eyes and peered over to see him propped up on his elbow, looking at her. She didn’t even realize that she had closed her eyes.

“Yeah.” She said. His freckled body stood out against the white sheets and comforter. She hesitantly brushed out her hair, before slowly making her way into the bedroom, her eyes glued to the floor.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly. She raised her hands up and let them fall against her legs.

“I’m sorry.” She said softly. It was so out of character for her that Jay wasn’t sure he had actually heard her for a second.

“What for?” He asked, his eyebrows narrowing. She didn’t turn off the lamp, but climbed into the bed with him. She was taken aback by the fact that he sincerely didn’t know what she was apologizing for. She waited  for him to wrap a hand around her waist. She glanced down at his freckled chest, the rough scar catching her eye.

“I’m sorry for everything with this case. For ignoring you and putting you in danger. Then jamming you up. Making you feel like you had to lie for me.” She put her hand over his chest and rubbed her thumb along that scar.

“I knew I didn’t have to lie for you.”

“I put you in danger. You almost got shot again because of me.” She whispered. He rubbed a thumb on her shoulder blade.

“You made a decision. Maybe not the best one. But you made it, and you’ve always had my back when I didn’t make good decisions. I’m not just your boyfriend, I’m your partner.” Hailey teared up when he said ‘partner’, feeling shame about suggesting to Voight that she might need a new partner. Jay was confused at why Hailey was getting more upset.

“I told Voight we were together. I’m sorry I told you not to say anything and then I told him without asking you,” she said.

“I asked Voight if I needed a new partner...without talking to you first.” She whispered. She looked up at his eyes, and to her suprise he didn’t look offended or hurt, more curious than anything.

“Why?”

“I acted on instinct earlier, and it messed up the plan. I went in when Voight told me to stand down.”

“We’ve both done that before though.”

“I know, but that instinct…” she hesitated, “what if Voight was right? What if that instinct came from my heart and not my gut?”

“What if it did? I think that it makes you a better cop.” He said.

“I don’t ever want to be in a situation where I have to choose between you and someone else.”

“I know… there’s no good solution for that, but I think it’s the price we have to pay to love someone.”

“You almost got shot. Because of me.”

“We’ve survived me getting shot before.”

“You think last time was easy?”

“No, I’m sure it wasn’t. I absolutely hated that sling.” He said sarcastically.

“I’m serious.”

“I can’t imagine how worried you were.”

“I was terrified. I hate that I almost put both of us through that again.”

“I forgive you. You have to forgive yourself.” She just stared at his shoulder and rubbed that scar. He was silent for a second. He leaned over and kissed her.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Hailey whispered.

“You deserve the world, Hailey.” His hot breath danced on her lips before he leaned in and kissed her again. He reached over and shut his lamp off and she did likewise.

“Thankyou.” She said whispered.

“I love you.” He said, cuddling her.

“I love you, too.” She looked at his soft shoulders glowing from the moonlight.

Hailey closed her eyes and tried to let herself relax. Before long Jay was asleep, but Hailey had a hard time falling asleep. She wondered what had made her think about not being Jay’s partner anymore. She wondered if her trauma made her a bad girlfriend. She laid wide awake for over an hour before she suddenly got an idea.

“Jay” she whispered. “Jay.” She shook him awake.

“Mmm..” he grunted.

“Jay.”

“What?” He said softly, blinking his eyes open.

“I got an idea.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“No, listen.”

“Kay?”

“We should take the day after tomorrow off.”

“Why?”

“I made a lot of mistakes in this case, and I feel like I betrayed you. I want to make it up to you. So, let me take you out, where it’s just us and we can spend the day together.” She said softly, grabbing his hands.

“You don’t have to make anything up to me.” He said.

“Jay, I love you. I know that I’ve said that to other guys before… but, you’re different. I really could see myself spending the rest of my life with you. So, let me show you how much I love you.”

“Okay.” He said softly. He kissed her gently.

“Why can’t we take tomorrow off?” He said in a fake whine.

“It’s way too short notice, and I don’t want to do that to Voight. I think we’re already pushing our luck,”

Jay chuckled.

“My luck was beyond pushed a couple years ago, I think he can handle a slightly irresponsible move on our part.”

“Ooooo, Ca-”

“Don’t even say her name.” Hailey smiled.

“K.”

“You ready to sleep?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hailey, don’t blame yourself for things that have been forgiven. It’ll eat away at you.”

“...thanks.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” This time Jay waited for Hailey to fall asleep as he rubbed gentle circles in her back, before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. The next day was a drag. No new cases, lucky for them. But that meant signing off on CI files, doing inventory, cleaning and reorganizing desks, rearranging the bullpen, and cleaning lockers. Hailey’s heart fluttered everytime Jay would touch her back or touch her arm. Jay’s heart would flutter everytime Hailey would give him a small smile. Hailey spent a good part of the day planning for the next day, thinking about things he liked to do and places she wanted to show him. At the end of the day, she ended up leaving at the same time as him but turning down beer at Molly’s. While Jay was drinking with the guys, she went home and surfed the internet to find good places to eat. She would leave the decisions of what they would be doing to Jay. She was passed out on the couch when Jay came to her place home that night. Jay gently took her computer off her lap and smiled when he saw the screen. An article entitled Top Five Things To Do During a Date was pulled up. He closed the screen and sat down next to her, putting an arm over her shoulders. He kissed her forehead gently and rubbed her arm with his thumb.

“Hey.” He said when her breathing changed and she looked up.

“Hey.”

“You ready for tomorrow?” She rested her head on his pec and wrapped her arms around his midsection.

“Yeah, you get to decide what we do tomorrow. I want to do whatever you want to do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah”

“Even if it’s golfing?” He joked. Hailey breathed in deeply.

“Yes, even if its golfing.” Jay chuckled and smiled.

“I don’t think I want to golf tomorrow, don’t worry.”

“Ok. There are a few places I want to go to.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jay took a deep breath.

“Have you eaten?” Hailey asked.

“Yeah, I had a burger at Molly’s, have you?”

“Yeah, I heated up some leftovers.”

“Do you want to… take a bath?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

“How about a shower?”

“Oooooh, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” Jay stood and Hailey did the same. Jay bent down and picked Hailey up bridal style, eliciting a rare laugh from her.

“Jay, you don’t have to…”

“Oh please… You are trying to plan something nice for tomorrow, let me at least treat you tonight.”

Hailey smiled as Jay carried her. He set her down on the tile and turned the water on. He leaned over and kissed her. Their tongues danced together and he reached for the hem of her shirt. He tried to pull the shirt up while kissing her, but got frustrated when it wasn’t cooperating with him. Hailey pulled away and laughed.

“Jay, it’s a button up. You have to unbutton it.” She said, undoing the buttons. The second she undid the last button, Jay was back to kissing her. She laughed on his lips. He gently slid her shirt off her shoulders. Next came his shirt, then their pants, and before they knew it, they were both naked. Hailey got in and then Jay got in behind her. Jay trailed kisses down her neck as the hot water created a thick steam that moistened her skin. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes. He put some of her shampoo in his hands and began gently massaging her roots. He slowly made his way down her hair, softly rubbing the blonde strands.

“Your hair is thick.” He said. Hailey laughed.

“It was perfect for people to put gum in.”

“That happened?”

“Yeah”

“That’s awful.” Hailey chuckled. Jay took the shower head and started rinsing Hailey’s hair. Hailey turned  and kissed Jay.  Jay smiled and grabbed a washcloth. He gently washed her back and shoulders. She got some of his shampoo and massaged it through his curls. Before they knew it, they were both clean, just standing under the water. Hailey took the initiative to shut the water off and grab their towels. They dried themselves and stepped out.  Hailey smiled with the towel wrapped around her chest.

“I want to go to bed completely naked.” She said. Jay smiled.

“Ok, lets do that then,”  Hailey dropped her towel and Jay copied her, his eyes roaming her body.

“Wow.” He thought to himself. He went in and kissed her passionately. His hands roamed her back while hers brushed through his curls. He grabbed her thighs as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Jay blindly led them into her bedroom, clumsily bumping into the doorframe.

“Mm… I love you” Hailey whispered.

“I love  you too.”

He laid her down in the bed and proceeded to spend the rest of the night making love to her.

The next morning, Hailey’s alarm awoke her. She shut her alarm off and laid her head back on Jay’s chest, smiling. She couldn’t have asked for a better way to wake up, under soft covers, cuddling with her boyfriend. Last night was beyond her wildest dreams, Jay sending fireworks through her body. She heard his heartbeat against her ear and felt his chest rise as he breathed. He was so cute when he slept, completely relaxed. The freckles on his chest popped out in the early morning sunlight. She traced the shape of his abs with her finger. Just as she closed her eyes, about to fall asleep again, she felt a sharp intake of breath from him and she felt a pair of lips kiss her head.

“Good morning.” His gravelly voice said.

“Good morning.” She said.

She breathed deeply as Jay’s arms wrapped around her.

“How did you sleep?” He asked

“Unbelievable well.” She joked. “How about you?”

“I slept well, too.”

“What do you want to do this morning?”

“Oh wow, I’m already deciding?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well, I guess we could get breakfast for starters.”

“Do you want to lay here first, or do you want to get up now?”

“I want to stay here right now.” Hailey looked at all the tiny freckles on his arms.

“You have so many freckles,” she said, touching his arm.

“Mmm… you like?” Hailey chuckled.

“Yeah.” She looked at all the tiny dots until her eyes landed on a deep looking scar on his forearm.

She touched the scar with the tip of her finger.

“Where did you get this scar from?” She said, tapping his arm.

“Shrapnel.”

“Oh, you were blown up?”

“Yeah we were in a convoy, our jeep was at the head of the group and we hit an IED. It was terrible, the worst recovery I’ve ever gone through. Shattered my arm, ruptured my eardrums,  had deep cuts, broke my hip and femur, cracked my skull.”

“Holy shhhh……”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, Jay.” She said in shock. He smiled.

“I’m okay now. Physically at least.” Hailey picked her head up to look him in the face.

“How come I just learned about this?” Jay shrugged.

“I guess it just never came up.”

“Huh.” Hailey sat up and sat crisscrossed.

“Well, now you have to tell me about one of your scars...liiiiiike….this one.” He touched her thigh, accidentally causing a small flinch from Hailey. She looked down at the scar.

“My dad.” She said softly. Jay pulled his hand away, regretting asking.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine… I came home from school one day. I don’t even remember how old I was,  but I was in highschool. I had failed a chemistry test, but I didn’t want to tell him. When I was using the bathroom, I had accidentally left my back unzipped a little and he saw it. He pulled it out and then dumped my bookbag out on the kitchen floor and went through all of my stuff. He threw my cell phone and smashed it. He went through all of my tests and graded assignments, pulling out anything that was below an A.”

Hailey closed her eyes, feeling the warm tear slip out and slide down her cheek.

“He got so furious, he was screaming. He...he grabbed my hair and pulled me down onto the kitchen floor. He slapped me.” A gentle hand slipped into hers.

“He was screaming so close to my face that he was spitting on me. I was crying. He told me to stop being dramatic and he backhanded me. I bit my tongue when he hit me, caused it to bleed. He screamed that I was a waste of his time, told me I should have been aborted. He punched me, bruised my jaw… I remember putting makeup on the next day to cover it. And he smashed a beer bottle all over the tile. I tried to crawl away… and I did,  but I got a piece of glass in my thigh. That’s what the scar’s from.” Hailey took a deep breath. She felt Jay’s soft hand on her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, I’m sorry.” She said, opening her eyes.

“You don’t need to apologize for being upset. Never. You are allowed to cry.”

“Yeah, I just feel like I’m being too emotional.”

Jay sat up. He took both of her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs on the back of her hands.

“Hailey, you can never be too emotional. I will always listen when you’re upset. You have a right to your emotions. Okay?” Hailey nodded. Jay scooted over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“I love you. I’m sorry you had to go through that growing up. I hate that you had to grow up with an abusive father.”

“That’s not all he was. He could be really sweet and nice, but anything could set him off. One minute he would be laughing, the next he would be hitting me and my brothers.”

“I know, but it doesn’t change that what he did was not okay. And I want you to know that you deserve so much better than that.” Hailey stayed in his hold for a minute before breaking away.

“Come on, you want to get some breakfast?”

“Sure”

“Where do you want to go? Or do you want to stay here?”

“Um, I can take you to a dinner that my parents used to go to.”

“Alright.” They both climbed out of bed and Hailey headed to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

“ Okay, You want coffee?”

“Ummm, no, I’ll get some there.”

“ ’kay.”

Hailey closed the bathroom door behind herself. Jay made his way to Hailey’s closet and got dressed. He was pretty sure that he had more of his clothes in Hailey's closet than in his own. He chose a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and a burgundy sweatshirt. Jay waited for Hailey to come out of the bathroom before heading in there. He was brushing his teeth when she came in and started brushing her teeth. It didn’t take them long before they were ready and out the door. They decided to ride in Jay’s truck. They looked through the menu and ordered before chatting while they waited. Jay kept glancing out the window, noticing a guy outside that seemed to just be loitering.

“You want to go?” Hailey’s voice broke his thoughts.

“What?”

“You keep looking outside, do you want to leave?”

“No, no, I just thought I saw something.”

“What did you see?” She asked, turning to look.

“Nothing, just some guy that’s loitering.

Hailey put her hand on Jay’s when he looked out of the window again.

“Jay, it’s okay. It’s our day off, turn the detective brain off.” Jay smiled at her.

“Okay.” Jay took a sip of his coffee.

They had a good time just spending time together and talking. When they got up after paying, Jay noticed the guy still outside. In fact, Jay was pretty sure the guy had been watching him because when he looked at the guy, they made eye contact for a split second. This guy was really making him feel uneasy. When they walked outside, Jay put a hand on Hailey’s back and quickly glanced over his shoulder. When he noticed they were being followed, he started gently pushing Hailey to walk faster, as they had parked pretty far away from the building. Hailey easily obliged, though she wondered what Jay’s rush was.

“Hey, what’s-”

“Shhh.” Jay cut her off, looking over his shoulder again. The guy had a hood on and was looking down as he followed them. The faster they walked, the faster he walked. As soon they got close to the truck, Jay unlocked it and urged Hailey forward.

“Get in the car, Hails.”

“Why-”

“Get in the car, Hailey.” he said in a deathly serious tone. Hailey obeyed and as soon as the door closed, she looked in the rearview mirror to see what Jay was so urgently rushing them away from. She watched Jay walk behind the truck and confront a guy in a hoodie.  She knew Jay wasn’t concealed carrying so she was extra concerned.  All of a sudden two more men came and started attacking Jay. Before Hailey could even think about it jumping out, a taser was whipped out and shoved at Jay’s stomach. She saw Jay swat at it as he crumpled to the ground. She jumped out.

“Jay!” She yelled out. The hooded guy that they had seen outside the diner pulled a gun out and started firing in her direction. She ducked behind the tire of the truck, as she wasn’t concealed carrying either or wearing a vest. The gunfire lasted a few seconds, but as soon as it ended she stood to see them dragging a limp Jay to a van.

“Hey! Police!” She yelled, hoping to scare them because that was her only option left.

The guy started firing again and she ducked behind the car next to Jay’s truck. The gunfire stopped and she heard two doors slam shut. She stood to see the van starting and rolling away. She ran after it, screaming Jay’s name and trying to see the plate, but it quickly turned down the street and was out of sight. She fumbled to find her phone and called Voight’s number.

“Voight.”

“I need help. I- I need help..” She said breathlessly.

“Hailey, what’s going on?”

“I need the team down here now. He- they took him.”

“Who?”

“They took Jay… Jay’s been abducted.”

“Where are you?”

“Diner on 39th and California. It was three guys, average height and build, caucasion, one had a gun, one had a taser. They put him in a gray panel van. I got a plate number,  Alpha Charlie Victor Two Seven Four. It turned down a side street and I lost it.” Voight rapidly wrote this information down.

“K,stay put. Call it in. We’re on our way.”

“Got it.”  Hailey hung up and obeyed. Her legs were shaking until she finally saw Kim and Adam roll up. Kim jumped out and speed walked up to her.

“Hey,” she said, putting a hand on Hailey’s back.

“Hey,” she replied coolly. Adam walked up.

“Are you okay?” Kim asked.

“Yeah...yeah I think so…. it just happened so quickly.”

“You call it in?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, I called in a 10-1, and put out a city wide BOLO.” Kevin and Voight walked.

“We weren’t concealed carrying, but I should have pursued them, I should have chased them, I should have.”

“Hey, you did the right thing,” Voight said. “Okay, can you walk us through what happened?”

“Yeah, um. Jay and I were just having breakfast. He kept looking at this guy that was outside, it seemed to be bothering him. We finished and walked outside, Jay pushed me to walk faster, he kept looking over his shoulder. I asked and he just told me to be quiet. When we approached the truck, he told me get in, I did. I saw Jay confront the guy. Then, two other guys approached him and jumped him. They tased him. I jumped out, one of them pulled out a gun and started firing. I ducked, they dragged Jay into the van. I tried to confront them, they started firing again. I couldn’t stop them.”

“Anything about these guys stand out to you?”

“No, it was a blur. Um, but it seemed that wanted only Jay, and they wanted Jay alive for some reason. The guy saw me, he could have just shot me point blank and then took Jay, or just shot both of us. But they wanted Jay for a reason. They’re probably gonna torture him for information.”

A silence blanketed the air.

“Ok, one of our own is missing. Let’s get patrol on the streets. I want them focused in a five mile radius. Lets pull pods and security cameras, see if there’s enough for facial rec. Lets see if we can try to track these guys.” Everyone split off to do a task.

[thran-duils]

From All Sides (P.6)

Title: From All Sides (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Pirate Tony. Tony is obsessed with a certain barmaid at port and showers her with gifts to try to bring her to his bed. She is resistant to his advances, her eyes elsewhere, specifically on her coworker, the cook. Although, that love is unrequited and always will be. The reader is forced into close quarters with Tony unexpectedly and sailing the sea, she slowly bends to his will. And he plans to give her all the affection he can to make sure she stays. Words: 2,280 Warnings (for the whole fic): Eventual smut, violence, angst, possessive behavior

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Where the hell is she?” Tony practically shouted.

They had made rounds around the inside of the cavern for the last fifteen minutes, looking in game rooms and cabins where she might be. Tony had ignored everything Steve was saying up until that point, on a rampage to find her. Much to Steve’s annoyance because he had an idea where she might be and even more so, annoying that Tony himself had left Y/N on the beach and was now mad she had wandered off. He had just wanted to drink and sit on the ship.

Grasping the opportunity of Tony standing still, Steve stepped into his sights.

“I’m sure she’s fine. Vanko said a dark-haired ‘boy’. It was probably Peter!” Steve blurted.

“Peter?” Tony demanded.

Steve saw the jealousy already swimming and he said, “Yeah. Who else would come swooping in to rescue her to make sure that no one took advantage of her? He knows she’s with you and he doesn’t want to piss his captain off. He did it for you! She’s probably with him!”

“Where’s his cabin?” Tony said.

<><><>

Peter walked with you down the sandy path. “And he just… left you down here? By yourself?” You nodded and Peter frowned.

“You don’t judge me?” you asked. He shook his head and a sad smile reached you. “I know many are not followers of religion here – myself included – but it seems the mere idea of… being with a woman would cause scorn. Casting me out.”

You had already spilled everything to Tony and telling someone else you felt close to felt now like nothing. You had held it inside for so long. And for how Tony reacted, you thought yourself perhaps wicked for how you had acted and you wanted to be clean with everyone. Peter was reacting far differently than Tony though. And that was not entirely shocking; Peter was not pining after you. He was objective.

Peter shrugged and said, “It does not bother me in the slightest. Eloise was nice.”

Nice. As if that was the only thing that mattered. Nothing else. It was so simple when he put it like that.

“Yes… she was.”

“Is,” Peter corrected, giving you a bump with his shoulder for reassurance.

“Right. Is.”

Peter asked, “Do you really want to go back to our home port? To see if she is still there? I mean… you said yourself that you did not think she would ever return the feelings. So… do you think it would be worth it? To go back to settle for that?”

You sighed heavily. You could read the undertone of his words. You had someone here that actually returned your feelings.

But then he cut you off at the knees of that thought about Tony.

“I mean, going back to port makes sense if you are looking to find Adam.”

Turning your head towards him, you met his gaze. And you could see he could see the remorse in your eyes.

His shoulders slumped and he asked, “Did you… were you never considering him?”

Reluctantly, you admitted, some tears coming, “I didn’t know how to let him down easily. He was so kind. I would feel guilty doing it, but I still felt guilty not doing it.”

“May I have your problem some day of having multiple people after me,” Peter said. Your face fell and he quickly said, “I did not mean for that to come off as crass. I can see it was hard. I was… just trying to make light. It was not the time. Sorry.”

The two of you walked in silence for a while. The waves lapped at the shore, coming close to your own feet. The sand was wet, and it felt good beneath your bare feet, your shoes held in your hand. The moonlight was reflecting off the sea, lighting the beach. You could stay here… truly. Just build a house up further in the rocks and always have the sea to look out at.

Peter was still quiet, waiting for you to initiate again. You cleared your throat.

“No. I know. I had multiple people. Some dropped off after a month or so, but they kept coming. Tony was constant. And… I knew. I knew this whole time if it was anyone, it was going to be Tony. And I don’t mean that in a last resort kind of way. It’s just the one that made the most sense. But like I told you, I’m afraid of being left behind.”

“Maybe he would not leave you behind? He’s already brought you on the ship.”

“Out of necessity. I’m sure that will change. And then I’ll just be left to wait for him.” You scoffed, suddenly angry again about your exchange with him earlier. “And he was so indignant that I loved anyone but him.”

“He’s a jealous man,” Peter commented.

“He is!” you agreed. “He cannot stand it knowing someone else was in my sights! Even Adam! He cornered him you know? I know he was threatening him. I didn’t heart it but I could see it in their body language. I was a prize for him, and he was making sure no one else would win me but him.” You inhaled deeply before admitting. “But what he said was true. I kept him dangling. Because I could not face the fact that Eloise and I were not to be. And I may have fueled his jealous behavior by continuing to flirt and giving him the hope he needed to be persistent.”

Peter looped arms with you and leaned in. “If he really likes you, he’ll get over it.”

You snorted, holding him tighter. “Tony? Get over a slight? I will live to see the day. He could not even handle it when men merely flirted with me at the tavern when he was at port and witnessed it.” You exhaled deeply and said, “I shouldn’t have told him about Eloise. I was pretty far deep in a bottle and thought maybe it would be okay, but I should have known then he would be envious. Even more so now that we have laid together.”

You suddenly blanched, realizing what you had divulged and shot Peter an embarrassed look.

Peter recovered quickly and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you happy though?”

“Mostly.”

“’Mostly’?”

“Yes. He will take care of me, is far too handsome for his own good, and he is kind enough to me. And is not… unskilled in the bedroom.” Peter’s lip upticked at the corner and you elbowed him with the arm looped, causing him to grunt before the two of you laughed. “I just wish he had not gotten so angry with me for telling him my feelings. He is possessive. And his anger is so easily lit. A very short fuse.”

Peter shrugged as if it was simple. “Then let’s just stay out. You and me. We have this whole ocean. And we can go lay on the grass up there when we are done and watch the stars.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“Trust me, Y/N. I’m not after you. Not to insult but I have my eyes set on the sea.”

You rolled your eyes, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“And there had been a girl at port.”

That piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Mary Jane.”

“The florist?” He nodded and you smiled, grasping his hand. “You two would make a fine match.”

“If we ever go back to port, she’ll be the first one I will look for.”

“Why not request to go back? We both have someone to look for?”

Peter shook his head. “No… I think I was driven from port with events beyond my control. Right now, I need to follow the tide.” You frowned and he shrugged. “If we are meant to be, we will find each other again.”

“I wish I was so easily able to go with the flow as you,” you told him.

Peter snorted now. He pushed you towards the waterline, your feet dipping into the wave that lapped at the sore. “Come on now! Have some fun! You deserve it!”

“We’re both drunk.”

“That’ll make it this much more fun! Come on. Tony was an asshole to you, and you need to blow off some steam!”

He was right.

You dropped your shoes onto the sand, further up away from where the waves would touch them, and he followed your lead. Bending over one foot at a time, Peter pulled his shoes off and tossed them. You tore your gown off, leaving you in your shift. Your gown fluttered to the ground closer but far enough away to ensure it would not be swept away.

The water was up at your waist before Peter swooped at you and drug you under with him. Your scream was lost as you closed your mouth at the last second to make sure you did not swallow any salt water. The water was reprieve, a cold bath.

<><><>

“Well, there she is,” Sam commented, stopping on the grassy path outside the cavern. They had been hiking up it to check around the island.

He pointed down the cliffs and found Y/N only yards away from where her and Tony had been down on the beach. And there was a dark-haired boy with her. Peter, it looked like. And they were swimming together.

Tony rolled his eyes to high heaven before turning around and making to go back down.

“We need that boy. The food has been so much better with him the last couple weeks,” Steve hissed at Bucky and Sam. “Please don’t let him do anything rash. He’s still beyond drunk! Be on my side!”

Without waiting for them to answer, he turned and followed Tony quickly.

<><><>

Storming up to the edge of the waves, Tony shouted, “Y/N!”

She had just surfaced and had not heard him. He bellowed her name again over the waves and she turned her head towards him.

Her expression darkened as she recognized him, brushing her hair away from her forehead, and she shouted back, “What the hell do you want, Tony?”

Tony bristled at her attitude.

“Get out of the damn water!” he demanded, coming into the waves. “Come to my cabin!”

“No!” she snapped, still holding onto Peter’s arms. Peter was looking at Tony uncomfortably, nervous. “You’ve made your feelings clear! I’m just a whore, remember! I should sleep in any bed!”

Tony started coming through the waves, his legs dragging in the current until he was almost knee deep, stopping again. “I will not have you sleeping anywhere but my cabin! Get. Over. Here. Now!” She huffed disobediently, and he shouted, “Before I lose my fucking temper!”

His shout seemed to get through to her.

She shot Peter a look before pulling away from him. He followed her still all the same and Tony fought the monster clawing away inside his chest. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, he yanked her to him and she stumbled in the water.

“If anything makes you look like a whore, it’s being in your underdress with a man under the moonlight! And not to mention, kissing another merely an hour before!” She opened her mouth to argue and he spat, “Save it!”

He demanded you pick up your dress and shoes. You angrily followed his directions, and he took a tight hold of your wrist again, yanking you close once more. Over your shoulder, he told the men he had brought with him, “We’re going to my cabin. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for your assistance. Please, grab one a bottle from the bar and put it on my tab.” They seemed to perk up that. His eyes fell on Peter and he sneered, “Get yourself dressed, boy. You’re going to be needed for breakfast sooner rather than later.”

With that, he pulled you behind him up the path towards the cavern again. But he was not taking you towards the cabins, he was taking you towards his ship. He was silent, ignoring your questioning. As soon as you were into his quarters again though, he propelled you in front of him, letting go. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance as he turned away and closed the door behind him. You threw your dress and shoes on the ground, pissed off.

He was on you in a second, a finger held up in warning. “I’ve had quite enough of your games, Y/N! I have been patient! I have given you choice and time and—FUCK! All the time in the world! You’re here with me now and that’s how it is going to stay! No more pussyfooting around!”

“I’m not pussyfooting—”

“This is where you stay,” Tony interrupted roughly, his finger pointed downwards at the hardwood of the cabin, his gaze burning into you. “You do not step foot off the ship but also, this room is where you stay!”

“I’m not a pet you can keep caged up!” you protested.

He closed the space quickly, fire burning in his eyes. “Watch me!” Tony snarled, towering over you.

You cowered back slightly, and he noticed. He was firm when he told you, “It’s just me. From now on. That’s all you get. If you really truly have feelings for me, this is your time to prove it. Stay in here! Like I just told you!” He leaned in to hiss, “Don’t test me, love! I’m done playing nice!”

He turned around furiously and strode out of his quarters, slamming the door behind him, and you jumped at the sound.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[dragoncityinteriordesign]

Cong Bo’s apartment is pretty darn nice. He may be a dirtbag, but he’s a dirtbag whose dirtbaggery pays for some high-ass ceilings.

Of note:

The 1st/2nd table. Of the three times this table shows up in the series, the most memorable is in Zhao Yunlan’s apartment, but Cong Bo’s got one too.

The book cage. Is he afraid they’re going to run away?

Building wall art. That trio of the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and [some building too out-of-focus for me to identify] is 100% something I have seen on sale as a set at Bed Bath & Beyond.

Tall black and white thing in the corner. What is that thing? My initial guesses were air purifier or speaker, but I don’t think either of those are right. Is it art?

The desk. He apparently shops for office furniture at the same place SID does. (...Actually, a lot of things seem the same as SID’s. Hold on, this is going to need its own second post.)

The unopenable exterior front doors. That seems to be a perfectly nice building he lives in, right up to how the exterior doors don’t have handles. They have faded spaces where handles used to be, but no handles. Between that and the slightly overgrown vegetation, my first thought was that we were meant to understand that we’re looking at a boarded-up building, and Cong Bo just has the smarts to squat there. I’m pretty sure that’s not the case, but once I thought it, I kind of couldn’t unthink it. Anyway, I have no idea how you get into his building. Black Cloak Magic, maybe.

[be-ace-write-crime]

Too Many Kitties!

“I had six cats… Now I have six nearly naked men in my house…” you summarized out loud, rubbing your temples.

The cats you adopted turn out to be magic hybrids and they are so glad to be adopted by such a sweet mistress! You're not sending them away are you?!

Reader x Cat hybrid Bucci gang!

Wish fulfillment, fluff, cat hybrids, poly ships, surprise adoption, reader insert.

You were driving home after a long day at work. Nothing was going right at all. You had received a promotion at work a while ago, which you were initially excited about, but it really just meant you were handed off a complete dumpster fire for a small pay raise and your cat was your only salvation in these dark times.

You were actually thinking of getting a second one to keep Leone company. You’d get one from the pound when you had a little more free time. You weren’t really picky about breeds or things like that, but you wanted something cuddly.

Leone you had found on a rainy day under a dumpster. You had carefully kneeled in the filthy puddle around it and reached out to him. The look in his eyes broke your heart and you ran home with the big, soaking fur ball. He’d not even struggled when you bathed him, although he certainly howled like he was being murdered. It took him a long time to want to be touched after that first night, but now he greeted you when you came home with a rub against your legs, headbutts when you fed him, and he slept on the foot of your bed.

Thinking about it, it was raining just like that day now. Only by now you had a car. You looked into the grim alley you had found Leone in nearly steering off the road when you saw what you thought was a crate full of cats there. You blinked at yourself, thinking that had to be some kind of mistake. Who would leave a crate full of cats in this weather? You needed to check.

That U-turn you made could have landed you in prison if anyone was around, but you drove back up to the alleyway and heard the unmistakable yowling of cats. The bottom of their crate had filled up and the wet, mangy looking little gremlins were pawing at the bars, begging to be let out of the small basin they were sitting in. You slapped a hand over your mouth, shaking your head.

“Oh, no, babies. I’m not letting you out into the street, but I’m not leaving you here,” you said, grabbing the crate and tipping it over until the water was mostly if not completely out. It was hard to tell with the wet, furry sponges inside and the pouring rain that had soaked your hair and clothes as well now. It wasn’t just a drizzle, it was bad. You moved your car closer and hauled the crate the rest of the way and by some miracle got it into the trunk.

You turned the heat up for all of you and drove home, cooing soothingly at the soft meowing in the back.

When you opened the door Leone was there, joining the chorus of meows all around. You were all kinds of tired though, kicking the door shut and opening the big crate. You tore off your wet clothes down to your underwear, because it was freezing and examined the cats more closely for the first time.

They were a mixed bunch. One was white with black spots all over and bright blue eyes, almost snow leopard like, but it was most certainly a kitty. It was the first to tentatively step into your apartment and let out a less offended or scared sounding meow.

There was another white one, this one looking like one of those fancy, purebred, long haired ones, and it had bright red eyes. That one in particular was pressed as far back as possible, hissing even. You couldn’t really blame it. Your transport here had been less than gentle.

Then there was the small back one with little patches of orange. It was small and scrawny, you could tell it would be even when it was dry, but it had the brightest, most adoring purple eyes you had ever seen. It stayed cuddled close to the spotted white one, getting it all wet again trying to shake off.

Then there was a very exotic looking one. It was long and slender, with bronze fur and elegant spots and tiger like stripes. It had cheerful brown eyes and was the first to start looking around, under loud, meowing protest from Leone.

The last one was a small, fluffy one with gold fur and a slightly lighter patch in the shape of a heart on his chest. It’s green eyes studied you inquisitively, before getting out of the cage and bolting deeper into the apartment, getting a loud yowl of protest from Leone, who gave you an accusatory glare.

“Sorry for the surprise, Leone floof… I couldn’t leave them out in the rain, could I? And I do feel bad leaving you home alone all day now, so maybe you can get along? I’ll put up lost cat posters and call in with the local shelter, but I don’t think they were left out by accident…” you explained sadly, scooping the big, silver grump into your arms. He was so warm against your rain chilled skin and he didn’t even protest, just kept staring down at the other cats imperially from his place in your arms.

First order of business was getting the cats and yourself dry and warm. You toweled off the spotted white one, the exotic one, and managed to give the black one a cursory ruffle with a towel before it bolted. The blonde one had hidden under your couch, looking at you quietly with its tail twitching restlessly. You decided to leave it. You also didn’t dare get near the long haired white one.

Next was food and you wanted to be sure they all ate so you split them into different rooms, as much as possible, with a bowl of wet food each. White one in the crate, Leone in the kitchen as usual, gold in the living room, spotted white in your bedroom, exotic in your spare room, and black in the bathroom. In the minute or two they were all eating you quickly changed into something warm and dry and comfy. Dry and comfy being the dumbass giant onesie in your favorite color that you only ever wore around Leone.

You ran around to let the cats out of the rooms and checked to make sure they had eaten. They had. You collapsed on your favourite spot on the couch. You threw your electric blanket over your lap and turned it on and laid out the other over the free space on the couch where Leone liked to nap. As expected, your oldest cat curled up on it, purring happily, and the other cats caught on quickly, flopping down on either Leone’s blanket or you while you browsed your phone and decided tonight was a takeout kind of night.

The long haired white one came trotting over eventually and you slowly held out your hand to it until it dared come close enough to be lifted onto your lap. It was still kinda wet, but you could ignore that for now. The gold one peeked out from under the couch, still damp and sad looking as well, and you tried to reach, but it already hopped onto the couch and laid down on the backrest, watching you with its big, bottomless emeralds for eyes.

“I’ll probably have to name you all something, huh? Hmm…” You mused, holding the hissy baby still in your lap. It needed to dry up a little and you knew you’d never be able to pin him down with a hairdryer, so this was the best place for it. “You can be Pannacotta. Like the desert~” she told him.

The exotic looking one meowed as if to say they wanted to be named next. “Alright, you… Guido? Do you like that?” The cat meowed affirmatively and looked at the gold one.

“How about Giorno?” you asked the blonde kitten. It showed no outward response, but it didn’t seem to object. About what you could expect from a cat.

“You can be Arancia, with those bright orange spots~” you told the black cutie. Right away it seemed to meow something like the name and you laughed. “Narancia? Would you prefer that? Okay, it actually sounds cuter that way. Good call!” you laughed.

Last was the spotted one. You struggled with a name for a bit, thinking of a few and dismissing them. “I really like the name Bruno, but you’re a white kitty,” you eventually said. You’d already gotten kind of fixated on the name for him, assuming he was even a boy. You hadn’t checked. The spotted cat purred and came to cuddle up to you, which had to be the clearest consent you could get from any feline. “Alright, Bruno it is!” you agreed, snuggling with your new cats until the food arrived.

You didn’t feel like staying up late or doing much the rest of the evening. You checked a few missing pet sites and set a reminder in your phone to call the pound during your lunch break tomorrow. You were starting to hope no one was looking for them, because these kitties made you happy beyond belief in just one night, even if you felt a little bad for Leone now. However, strays don’t end up in a giant travel crate together and most of these cats looked like very expensive breeds.

You left the heated blankets on the couch on a low setting and quietly went to bed while the cats slept. Only Leone got up to follow you, as he normally did. You got in bed and he made a soft mewl that drew your attention.

“What’s wrong, Leone?” you asked softly, smiling as he rolled onto his back and exposed his soft little cat belly submissively. He’d never done this before and you giggled and rubbed his belly in slow reassuring strokes. “Don’t worry, baby. Someone’s probably busy looking for them right now. I don’t think I can take care of that many cats anyway. I’m too young to be an old lady with six cats, right? You’ll always be my favorite, Leone. Just don’t tell them, yeah? Kitty promise?” you whispered softly, smiling wider when he purred and cuddled up against your side.

The next morning you tried to feed all your new cats their wet food the same way you had the day before, but Giorno had somehow made it to the top of your bookcase and was not coming down. Panna had taken his spot under the couch and was similarly unmovable, and Narancia and Guido were both hovering by your door, ready to make a break for it.

You had a kibble feeder set up, so you fed Leone so he wouldn’t get grumpy and set out a bowl of special cat milk your first cat didn’t care for. It did catch the attention of your other cats, who were more interested in it and satisfied you hadn’t left out the new kitties food wise you got showered and dressed for work.

“Be good babies! I love you!” you called out, already excited to come home to your sweet cats tonight. You forced yourself not to get too excited. You also forbade yourself from shopping for an extra big litter box and collars and cat beds, because you already knew that the second you got a call about the owner being found you’d be heartbroken.

During your break you called a few of the shelters near you, reporting what had happened. They all recommended you take them to the vet to check for a chip, which you agreed to do. You booked an appointment at the vet and with gritted teeth you begged for the time off from your boss. He was not happy, since you were still in charge of a shitshow from hell and your predecessor had left a mountain of work to be sorted out for you. You were entitled to that time off though, so you got your vet visit, under the condition you worked some overtime again, which you already expected.

It was getting dark by the time you were on your way home and while you were happy there was the slight underlying anxiety your new babies might have demolished your home in your absence. You had no way of knowing if any of them had spraying issues or if they might need a special diet. Leone was a very clean and neat cat, who’s only messes were his litter box and some shed fur that couldn’t be helped.

There was also the chance they might have fought for whatever reason and you quickly forced that thought out of your mind.

You would come home and there would be six lovely kitties meowing hello and wanting food and you’d all cuddle on the couch together and you’d be alright.

You opened your door and were shocked by the smell before anything else. It wasn’t the smell of cat pee or blood, which you were happy about, but it smelled like food. Like pasta with red sauce, to be precise.

Okay… maybe your mom had come over and let herself in and made you dinner? It was unlike her to do that, especially unannounced, but it was the only semi-reasonable explanation you could come up with until a stranger came walking out of your kitchen.

“Mistress, you’re home! Bellissimo! Leone said you’re usually home sooner, so we were getting worried-”

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house?!” you yelled. You didn’t want to be rude, you really didn’t, but you did not know this man and he was standing in your hallway, wearing nothing except your girly white apron that you rarely ever used. The man was of medium build, tan skin and a black bob cut, with two black cat ears perched almost cutely on the sides. You weren’t sure if the not knowing or the almost naked part disturbed you more.

A few seconds later you would discover it was in fact neither of those things that bothered you most, it was that apron man wasn’t the only under dressed intruder in your house! “You don’t have to yell. You invited us in,” a tall, lean, brown haired male with leopard spotted cat ears said, coming out of your living room wearing a pair of your hipster panties with a leopard print that matched his ears and at this point you were groping behind you for the door handle.

“Vecellio is next door...” you said, thinking these guys were probably friends of your neighbors who let themselves in. Did you not lock the door? Did they find your spare key? Did they not realize they were in the wrong house?

“That’s… nice? But I don’t think that’s got anything to do with us,” apron man said.

“You’re home~!!!” a small, black haired boy yelled, coming down the stairs in a bright orange mini skirt that you had only worn for Halloween once. He looked like he wanted to come up and hug you, but your indignant yelp stopped him.

“Why are you wearing my clothes?!” you demanded, tucking yourself way back into the corner.

“Chill, you didn’t have any guy clothes. Just thought it’d be more polite to put something on than to greet you with our dicks out. We’ll take ‘em off if you want,” leopard print said, already hooking his thumb into the panties he was wearing.

“N-No, keep that on! That is not what I meant!” you said quickly.

“If she’s home, does that mean we can have dinner now?” the black haired boy in the skirt asked.

“Not yet, Narancia. I think our new mistress needs a little more explaining,” the first said, beckoning you further into your apartment. By now two more guys had appeared. One was wearing the bottoms of your strawberry print pajamas and more egregiously, holding your laptop! The other only had a white sheet around his waist like he belonged in a renaissance painting, which quite frankly, would not be wrong.

“You're damn right I need a fucking explanation!” you snapped, already at a point where you were willing to overlook the mistress part of that statement when you realized something that had you ready to escalate this situation from potential battery to potential murder. “Where are my cats?!”

Around the corner at that very moment came your big, silver fur ball and you exhaled a sigh of relief, getting down on one knee to pick him up quickly.

“Hey, Leone,” you said, considerably more calm, only for the sweet but distant tomcat you’d had for over a year to transform before your very eyes into a tall, naked, silver haired man with an impatient scowl, with you still kneeling at eye level with exposed groin as he cocked his hip and crossed his arms.

“Now will you make them leave?!” he asked.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 21

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 21 - Possess

There were no classes the next day. Lin Yan wanted to sleep in. Who knew that he'd get woken up by Yin Zhou's early morning phone call? He was still hazy from sleep. He didn’t make out a lot of what Yin Zhou was saying. From what he did hear, it seemed like one of his relatives say a ghost. . . Lin Yan put down the receiver and sat on the bed in a daze. He raised his head and glanced at the wall clock on the wall. It was currently 7:05. He had forgotten to close his curtains last night and bright sunlight streamed into the room.

Lin Yan turned over and lay on the blankets, wanting to go back to sleep. The morning wind blew in from the window, and the cool air made him feel refreshed from his shoulders to his legs. Lin Yan hugged the pillow when a thought appeared. Something was wrong.

His side was bare?

He jumped up like a flailing carp and looked down at his bare torso. Lin Yan was so frightened that he pulled the blanket around his waist, looking like a guilty thief.

Fortunately, Xiao Yu wasn't there.

Lin Yan slumped back on the bed, stretching out his arms and legs and reminiscing about what had happened last night. It seemed that he actually had a bath with the ghost, and even had a good time with him. But then, Xiao Yu put on his clothes, leaving him only wearing his drenched boxers. When the flashback reached the part where the door slammed, Lin Yan jerked. He groaned internally; he actually messed around with a ghost.

The relationship between the two had just started to improve at the antiquities lecture, and then a comment about sending him away caused him to completely flip out. Lin Yan put his chin on the pillow and sulkily pondered. He wasn't sure what the ghost had been upset about. It was hard to determine who took advantage of who last night, but a ghost that claimed he'll take his life doesn't give him much room to resist. It was unbearable. If it weren't for the fact that he had finished things himself, he would have gone crazy.

Besides, jerking off is a real personal topic. . . Lin Yan felt himself blush. He buried his head into the pillow and wanted to stay there for the rest of the day.

Anyways, what about the ghost?

Lin Yan changed his clothes, ruffled his messy hair and walked out of the bedroom. When he turned to the living room, he was midway through the yawn. When Lin Yan saw the scene in front of him through the sleepy haze in his eyes, his body was numb in shock and he almost screamed.

Xiao Yu was sitting on the sofa and stared at him coldly. The light gray soft satin shirt reflected the delicate pearly light of the early morning sun. He looked like a beautiful young man, but right now, he made the atmosphere gloomy and chilly.

Five words quickly popped up in his head: enemies on a narrow road*.

*(T/N: it's four characters in Chinese [冤家路窄], and it basically means two enemies that inevitably meet and have a staredown, i.e. a cowboy faceoff at high noon, that kind of thing)

Lin Yan stood awkwardly tugged on the hem of his shirt. The situation was completely beyond his imagination. The ghost found in the tomb was a ruthless murderer, but this ghost was different from the ones on TV or in horror movies. He wasn't possessing him, couldn't remember how he died, or even remember who he was. There was nothing else for him to do but cling to him every day. It sounded pathetic, but he could at least always hold his form and didn't shy away from the sun. Lin Yan glanced at the sofa discreetly, thinking that the next time he saw the little Daoist priest, he would have so many questions to ask him.

The question now was what should he do? The person on the sofa was clearly upset. Even though he was a few metres away, Lin Yan could still feel the surrounding air crackling and exploding with sparks.

After a moment of hesitation, he decided to take the initiative to attack and kill the enemy before the enemy could attack, nipping all the hidden attacks in the bud. Lin Yan channelled his qi, opened his meridians, centred his energy, and let out a dry smile: "Good morning Young Master Xiao!"

You could hear a pin drop.

"Are you. . . hungry? I'm going to make breakfast?" Lin Yan wanted to ask him for forgiveness. Even though he thought that ghosts probably didn't need to eat, eating was probably similar enough to eating people. Eating people. . . Lin Yan's face started to burn again. He anxiously wrung his hands. He moved to the sofa, and gently placed a hand on the ghost's knee.

Xiao Yu glanced at him, then turned to stare out the window in silence.

"I'm not angry anymore. I let you kiss me, and we can do it again in a few days. I don't know what's wrong." Lin Yan coaxed him kindly.

The ghost still sat silently.

"I don't want you to leave anymore. You choked me so hard yesterday, so let's call it even." Lin Yan felt like he was making a fool of himself. He was getting frustrated so he leaned forward cheekily: "Here, I'll let you kiss me again as compensation."

"Alright, then I'll kiss you whenever I want to instead."

Not waiting for Lin Yan to lean over, Xiao Yu flung his sleeves, moved to the side and sat upright looking at him.

Xiao Yu's reaction really let him know what it meant to show warm feelings but meet with cold rebuke. The irritability of being woken up early in the morning mixed with his current anger, and he couldn't keep it together. Why, despite getting closer to death every day, did he still have to go out of his way to make this ghost happy?

Lin Yan clenched his fist and screamed at Xiao Yu: "What do you want? Do you want me to just lie still while you fuck me? I'm a living fucking person and you never ask when you want to do anything. I dug up your grave, not fucked your corpse. What's the point in stalking me like this? Huh?" As he got angrier and angrier, he picked up a glass cup on the coffee table and smashed it, the shards scattering all over the floor.

"Fine, have it your way. You want me to leave? If you aren't going to kill me then I still have things to do. When the time comes, you go on your way and I'll go on mine. We won't owe each other anything!"

In the living room early in the morning, two people were sitting on the sofa, one with a blank face and the other with a face full of rage right beside him. Neither wanted to look at the other longer than they needed to. Sunlight bounced off the broken pieces of glass on the ground. The orchids on the windowsill were in full bloom, and a few slender branches were covered with quivering white butterflies.

A picture-perfect scene of a husband and wife quarrelling.

The people involved wouldn't agree with this. Lin Yan tugged on the waistband of his pants and walked to the kitchen distractedly. He took four eggs and cracked them into a frying pan. He didn’t know why he still prepared enough for two people. The oil crackled and popped on the pan. When it was almost cooked, he grabbed the sugar from the spice box and sprinkled it in. Lin Yan bowed his head again. He just wanted to throw the pan away. He had accidentally put the wrong seasoning, and now the poached eggs were sprinkled with a thick layer of MSG.

He couldn't keep living like this.

Suddenly the phone in his pocket beeped. A text message from Yin Zhou popped up with the address of XX hospital and a message: “Visiting starts at 9:30. Get here quickly.” Lin Yan stared at the phone in a daze, and suddenly remembered the jumbled call he received this morning. It seemed that Yin Zhou's relatives had encountered something evil and he wanted him to grab the little Daoist priest and rush over to see what was going on.

Holding his phone, Lin Yan didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. He hadn't even dealt with the evil things happening around him. Now he had to take on someone else's problem, as if ghosts from all over the world had made an appointment to meet him, rushed over all at once and greeted him with an evil grin. Lin Yan turned off the stove, forwarded the text message to the little Daoist priest, and tried to fix his expression as he walked to the living room. He hadn't been angry for so many years and he didn't know what to do with himself. He deliberately forced himself to keep a straight face and stared at the wall behind Xiao Yu's shoulders: "I'm going out. If you really don't want to see me, stay here. I'll be back tonight at the latest."

After he finished talking, he went to stand at the door to change his shoes. He turned his head and was face-to-face with Xiao Yu again. He was close enough that he could see his reflection in the other's eyes. Lin Yan was so startled that he almost fell into the shoe rack.

"You want to play Cold War but you're still going to follow me, this guy. . ." Lin Yan muttered, grabbing the car key from the hook and opened the door.

At 9:30 a.m., Lin Yan, who had just finished charging through the morning traffic, appeared in front of a private hospital on the North Third Ring Road. The hospital’s grandeur was a sight to behold. The high-rise buildings were covered with walls of light-blue glass, and the shrubs in the flower beds were meticulously pruned. Although the road near the main entrance of the hospital was congested with traffic, it got better once he passed through the gate. Lin Yan followed the instructions on the floor plan to find the inpatient department. He bought a ridiculously expensive basket of apples from the supermarket downstairs, walked through the front door, took out his mobile phone at the elevator entrance and double-checked the address Yin Zhou sent him.

This is it. Lin Yan took a breath and stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 17th floor.

In the elevator, Lin Yan hoped that the ghost would do something to disperse the current embarrassing atmosphere, but Xiao Yu just stayed an arm's length away from him and put on an air of indifference.

When the nurse led Lin Yan into the ward, Yin Zhou and A-Yan had already arrived and were sitting on some stools in the middle of a conversation. The private room was clean and tidy. A wide hospital bed sat against the wall, covered with light blue bedding. There were no patients. A middle-aged woman with delicate makeup but a sad expression sat on the bedside peeling oranges. Seeing Lin Yan enter the room, she barely forced out a wry smile and greeted him: "Xiaolin is here, sit down."

"Hello, Auntie." Lin Yan pulled up a chair and sat down. This woman was Yin Zhou's aunt. She was often seen around Yin Zhou's house during New Years. He remembered her as being a very popular person. She liked to laugh at Lin Yan's jokes, and always said that when her daughter was older, they could get married. She kept at it until she met Weiwei, then she changed her goal and asked him almost every day if he was married yet.

"Xiao Yang is over there." The woman pointed to the window. A girl wearing a hospital gown stood in front of the window glass with her back to Lin Yan, not reacting at all.

Lin Yan nodded at Yin Zhou. "What's going on?"

Yin Zhou pulled his stool over and sat down by Lin Yan. He pointed to the girl by the window: "It's my cousin. The one that set off firecrackers with us on New Years, remember? For the past month, she's been in the hospital with a kidney infection."

"Of course I remember my little wife." Lin Yan laughed and called to the girl at the window, "What's Xiao Yang looking at? Come over here, look who's here."

The girl didn't seem to hear it at all. She remained at the window and continued staring out.

Lin Yan was perplexed. He remembers this girl as someone lively and mischievous, talking like a mini adult. Even when she was thirteen or fourteen, it always seemed like she, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were all the same age. During the Chinese New Year, Yin Zhou had been bored playing games in his bedroom and didn't want to greet his relatives so Lin Yan became the host despite being a guest. He was the one who watched TV and gossiped with this little girl; from which boy was handsome to who secretly wrote a note to whom. The little girl was smart and kept her wits about her. One time, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou secretly took her to a lake to go ice skating. As a result, her foot slipped through the ice and she got completely soaked. Unexpectedly, she never said a word of what happened and she kept it secret when they all went home.

No one in the room spoke, and the sudden silence made Lin Yan a little at a loss. A moment later, the woman sitting on the bed suddenly burst into tears: "I don't know what's wrong. She was barely sick and then this happened." She pointed at the girl by the window and cried loudly: "It's been four days. She hasn't eaten or slept. She just stands by the window and stares outside. The doctors have checked for everything that could possibly be checked. They say it's hysteria and there's nothing they can do. I can't take it anymore."

"What? Auntie, calm down. Speak slowly." Lin Yan was confused.

"See for yourself. It's hard to explain." Yin Zhou pointed to the girl standing completely straight at the window.

Lin Yan put the fruit basket on the bedside table hesitantly. He walked to the window and stood behind the girl for a while. When she didn't move, he tapped her shoulder: "Xiao Yang, have you missed me?"

The girl turned her head. Not like how ordinary people turn their heads where they move their necks first, but instead turned her head 180 degrees until she and Lin Yan were face-to-face. As soon as he saw the girl’s face, Lin Yan yelled and stumbled back. He immediately noticed something wrong. She didn't have any pupils. Her eyes were rolled back into her head. Through her tangled hair, only the whites or her eyes were staring at Lin Yan. She faintly hissed: "Are you here yet?"

"Why haven't you come yet?"

[softladyhours]

Eric Derekson x Touch-starved!Reader

Summary:  Eric notices that something might be up with Y/N. He immediately becomes the embodiment of ‘they must be protected at all costs!!’. Meanwhile, the feeling is mutual uwu

Pairing:  Eric Derekson x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, a lot of talk about pee at the beginning (?), innocent intimacy, and two (2) pining idiots

* * *

I FINALLY DID IT!!!! I don’t write a lot but I love this boy with every fiber of my being and my touch-starved self wanted to project so here we are lol.  Hope you enjoy it! If you do, feel free to like and/or reblog, but please do not repost without giving proper credit!! Thanks y’all and, as always, feedback is appreciated!

* * *

   Eric was really regretting his life decisions.  His big new years resolution was to stay hydrated, and he was doing really well!  But, pair this with a day full of back-to-back meetings at Egos Inc. and Wilford’s excitement for a weekly dinner engagement with a certain not-ego, and you end up with Eric’s current predicament: anxiously pee-dancing in silence outside of said not-ego’s only bathroom.

 “Oh, just hold it in until we get to Y/N’s!  They have a bathroom at their apartment and it’s only, what, a ten minute drive?” Wilford had insisted as he gently shoved Eric out of the office building’s doors and into the parking lot. ‌“I wanna get there before Dark eats all the hors d’oeuvres!”‌

 Of course, the eccentric journalist had neglected to factor in rush hour traffic (easily turning ten minutes into twenty-five at the very least) as well as the fact that, even after traffic, they were running an hour-and-a-half early.

 After no one answered their knocks at your door, Wilford used a spare key to let himself and Eric inside.  Most of the lights were off and it almost seemed as if no one was home, if it weren’t for the music blasting from the back of the apartment.  It wasn’t until then that Wilford thought to check his watch.

 “Oh my,”‌ his eyes widened before he facepalmed, chuckling at himself.  “I suppose I was a little too excited to see our dear Y/N that I‌ completely lost track of time–we’re much too early!”

 Usually, Eric would have been mortified at such a revelation, but he was a little too focused on his bladder and how he felt it was going to rupture at any second.  

 “Th-that’s nice, but can you, well… where’s the, the bathroom please?

 “Oh, right!  In the hall, first door on the left!” Wilford took off his shoes and plopped himself down on the sofa, getting comfortable.  Meanwhile, Eric rushed in the right direction, only to have his heart–and possibly his bladder–damaged beyond repair.

 As he approached, he realized with horror that light seeped through the crack at the bottom of the door and that the music that was coming from behind the locked door was barely masking the sound of running water.  You were taking a shower.  Terrified to intrude, he hurriedly checked the other three doors in the hall hoping for some kind of saving grace.  There was an office, a linen closet, and your bedroom.  Fighting back tears, he returned to the door of the only bathroom in the apartment. ‌‌ Even if he could gather the courage to knock you wouldn’t be able to hear him over the noise, so he settled for silently praying to any and all higher powers that you wouldn’t be too long.

 Twenty excruciating minutes later, the running water stopped and the music was turned down.  Desperate to not wet his pants, he timidly knocked.  The music stopped.  Silence.  He knocked again and spoke up.

 “Hey Y/N? It’s Eric and I’m really sorry to intrude but–”

 The door unlocked and swung open, revealing you in all of your towel-wearing glory.  It was all Eric could do to keep himself from throwing himself past you and towards your toilet.

 “Oh, hey Eric!  You’re early!  You really scared me for a second–”

 Not able to hold it back anymore he nearly yelled,‌  “I’MREALLYSORRYBUTIREALLYNEEDTOPEE!”

 A little taken aback, you finally processed his words and the obvious urgency and quickly stepped out of the bathroom,‌ ‌“Oh, of course!‌ I’m so sorry–” ‌

 He rushed past you, almost not noticing the wall of thick, humid heat as he entered the bathroom before slamming the door, unzipping his fly, and finally releasing the agonizing pressure.  As he finished his business he took a deep breath of relief.  That’s when he fully processed just how hot it was.  He was already sweaty and his shirt was already starting to cling to his torso.  It was suffocating.  And a little concerning.  

 Eager to get out, he washed his hands and opened the door, instantly meeting the relief of cool A/C.  Also you.  In a towel.  Oh yeah, that had happened.  He was suddenly grateful for the flush from the heat that probably (hopefully) camouflaged his actual blush.

 You were smiling and laughing a little. ‌ “Feel better?”

 He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in nervous embarrassment.  “Yeah‌ I, I feel a l-lot better, thank you, uh, s-sorry about that.”

 You chuckled, patting him on the shoulder before moving past him to finish getting dressed, closing and locking the door behind you.

 It was the next day and Eric couldn’t stop thinking about you.  Well, to be fair, you had been on his mind a lot lately anyways, but he was still a little hung up on seeing you in a towel, to be honest. ‌And also your incredibly hot showers.  How did you not look like a lobster?

 “I don’t.”

 Eric looked up from his desk to see Google looking back at him, both parties visibly puzzled.  “Huh?”

 Google’s monotone voice replied, “‌I share no physical resemblance to a lobster, literally or metaphorically, nor do most people.”

 Eric’s cheeks heated up, realizing he must have been talking to himself.

 “Uh, sorry,‌ I-I didn’t mean to say that out- out loud,” he explained.  Google just shrugged before returning his focus to his computer.  Before he could stop himself, Eric found himself catching the search engine’s attention–on purpose this time.

 “Hey, uh Google?  I have a question…”

 “Yes?” Google asked, not looking up from his screen.

 “Why do some people take really hot showers?”

 The android sat up straight and turned to face Eric before reciting his findings: “An article from Lifehack.org says that ‘According to the researchers at Yale University, people who take a long-hot shower or bath may do so to subconciously ward off feelings of loneliness and isolation’.” ‌Looking unimpressed, he returned to his work.

 Eric felt a pang in his chest.  He wondered if you actually felt that way.  He tried to convince himself that you were probably fine.  But part of him couldn’t help but worry. ‌You were amazing! You didn’t deserve to feel lonely! And you weren’t going to.  At least, not if he had anything to say about it.  

  For one brief minute, his anxiety had vanished, replaced with an almost foreign sense of determination.  He picked up his phone and typed out a text, asking if you wanted to hang out after work.  He still didn’t know if he would actually confront you about the loneliness thing, but he could at least be a good friend and spend time with you and hopefully show you how much he cares.  Before he could psyche himself out, he pressed send.  Then that brief minute was over.  The impact of his anxiety made him want to puke.

 Meanwhile, you were in your apartment.  You had finished your work early and had just gotten home.  Exhausted, you decided you would have a quiet night in, with maximum comfort.  Feeling inspired‌ (and not wanting to try to relax surrounded by clutter), you quickly went around your apartment, doing a quick clean-up: throwing away those leftover soda cans, washing a few dishes, tossing some dirty clothes in your clothes hamper, making up your bed, etc.  After everything was fairly neat, you got ready for the most crucial aspect of relaxation.  A nice, hot bath.

 Getting some clean pajamas and underwear ready, you started the hot water running.  You grabbed your phone, to pull up your favorite relaxing playlist, when you got a text from Eric:

Hey, do you want to hang out after I get off work?‌‌  We could stay in or go out–whichever you prefer!

 Shocked, but not in a bad way, you think about it for a moment.  This seemed a little out of character.  Eric was almost a hermit unless someone else took the initiative–or unless one of the other Egos dragged him along.  You smiled to yourself at the thought.  

 You had been meeting Wilford and Dark for dinner every couple of weeks to maintain contact since, between your job and their lives at Ego Inc., life could get hectic.  Though, a couple of months ago, they had talked to you and, after your consent, started bringing Eric along.  They had explained his timidness and that they thought it would be good for him to get out of the house and hang out with someone whose face didn’t suspiciously resemble that of a certain famous YouTuber.

 And so you were introduced to Eric Derekson.  Wilford had teasingly warned you that Eric was almost as “heartbreakingly handsome” as he was, to which you just laughed.  Then you met him.  His shy, sweet nature had seized your heart strings and nearly yanked them from the muscle beating in your chest.  Pair that with his, frankly, beautiful face (and butt–no, you weren’t proud you had checked the man out but, to be fair, it’s a really nice butt) and you were smitten.  But you played it cool and, as the two of you got closer, he slowly seemed to grow more comfortable around you, which warmed your heart (and your face), but this proposition to hang out was still a milestone.  Especially if he meant just the two of you.  

 The thought made your heart flutter, but you pushed it down.  You couldn’t risk getting your hopes up.  Besides, before anything else you were his friend, and friends hang out together.  So you took a deep breath and typed out your response, deciding that you wouldn’t mind sharing your quiet night in with Eric.

That sounds nice!  If you want to come over to my place we can order pizza and hang out.  Maybe Netflix or something??

 Eric nearly passed out from relief.  You had almost immediately replied and one, you seemed happy (maybe even excited?) about the concept of hanging out and two, you wanted to stay in (he was terrified you’d be in an extraverted mood and try to take him out dancing or something–you had teasingly threatened to take him clubbing a while back–even though he knew you’d never do that to him, his anxiety still hated the possibility).  He sighed, releasing the tension from his body before arranging the time he would come over.  You had proposed six o’clock, knowing he got off work at five. ‌He agreed. ‌

 As he set his phone down, his face heated up and a new type of anxiety filled his system with butterflies, the good kind though.  He smiled to himself.  He really was excited to spend time with you.  You were so kind and gentle with him, but never condescending.  Stunning and confident, but never arrogant.  Not to mention he could just go on and on about your intelligence and sense of humor.  From that first dinner, he knew he was wrapped around your little finger. ‌Although, thankfully, he’s managed to not make too much of a lovesick fool out of himself.  So far.

 You were lounging on the couch look at your go-to pizza place’s menu when someone knocked on your door.  Getting up, you quickly unlocked the door to reveal Eric, looking as handsome and nervous as ever.  Smiling and greeting him, you opened your arms for a hug that he immediately accepted.  He had never been used to hugs before he met you, but he always enjoyed yours–you were a really good hugger.

 You pulled away and closed the door, leading Eric to the couch to sit and decide on dinner.

 “Ok, so,” you turned to him, “I have a coupon for two large pizzas, a couple of two liters and one of those dessert pizzas, what do you think?”

 Eric grinned. ‌ “‌That sounds amazing.”

 “Awesome!”

 You called the restaurant, ordering the feast.  Then, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you and Eric talked.  He caught you up on the Jims’ latest antics, you ranted about the drama at your workplace, and by the time the pizza got there, the two of you were giggling like idiots over who-knows-what.  As you set out the food on your coffee table and reaching for the tv remote, Eric spoke up.

 “You know, it’s really nice hanging out with you.  We never have time to talk like this.”

 Smiling at the sentiment, you replied, “Ditto,” making you both giggle.  “For real though,” you said, “I’m enjoying myself too.  You’re pretty cool, Derekson.”

 His cheeks started to tingle, but he fought off the blush.  He wanted to talk to you, seriously, before you could turn on the tv.

 “Hey, uh Y/N?‌”

 “Yeah?” You replied distractingly.  Suddenly you weren’t quite sure where you had left the remote and were scanning the coffee table and food packaging.

 “Can I- can I talk t-to you for a, a second?”

 You immediately stopped scanning upon hearing his stutter.  He rarely stuttered around you anymore so when he did, you took it seriously. You nonchalantly leaned back into the couch, sitting and getting comfortable, giving him your full attention.

 “Yeah,” your voice was a little softer.  “What’s up?

 His brow was furrowed and he couldn’t quite look at your face.  “Do you, uh, remember th-that time I‌ nearly wet my-myself?”

 You lips quirked, concealing the smile that wanted to spread across your face at the mental image.  You felt kind of bad, but it was really cute.  Not to mention his reaction to seeing you half-dressed���

 Your cheeks heated up, but you played it cool.  “Yeah, what about it?”

 He sighed. ‌ He didn’t seem nervous, which was odd, but more frustrated or confused.  “You take really, really hot showers.”

 Squinting your eyes, you gave him a puzzled look, trying to conceal your smile.  Realizing that sounded wrong, his anxious countenance returned with some stuttered apologies.

 “I-I meant that you, uh, you– when I went in th-the bathroom, it was really hot. Like, like suffocating!” 

 “Ah, okay,”‌ you were silent for a moment, not any less confused than before.  “So what are you getting at?”

 Eric’s blush darkened. ‌‌ “I just remember um… I- I uh…” he noticeably refuse to look in your direction now, trying to find his words.  You patiently waited–you could tell he was getting frustrated by himself.  After a moment, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

 “Apparently some people t-take really long, really hot showers to cope with, with loneliness and I‌ guess I- I just wanted to make sure that you were, that you’re okay.”

 You had no words.  He reluctantly opened his eyes to look at you, silently hoping with everything fiber of his being that, just this once, he didn’t screw up.  You looked at coffee table with an expression just a little too tense to describe as neutral.  Eric was about to apologize and try to salvage the night ahead when you relaxed your face, closing your eyes and sighing deeply.

 When you opened your eyes you turned to face him again.  He hadn’t noticed until that moment just how tired you looked.  Sure, you had the faint beginnings of bags under your eyes, but what shook him to the core was your eyes.  As you let your walls down, your eyes seemed to age a couple of decades within a few moments.  Where there was usually a sparkle had grown just a little too dull.

 “To be honest with you? I’ve been struggling a bit lately.”

 Eric could practically feel his heart start to fracture in his chest.

 You continued, “Like, it’s nothing major, but I’m just tired.  Things are starting to weigh me down more, if that makes sense…?”  You shifted, not entirely comfortable with admitting to hardship, but Eric stared at you intently, nodding slightly for you to continue.  Having anyone’s (but especially his) entire attention on you like this felt so intimidating and… intimate.  You weren’t used to it by a long-shot.

 “Really, I’m okay I just… I guess I’m a little lonely.  I didn’t realize what I was doing, with the hot water, I mean, until you said it, but yeah…” your voice faded off and your embarrassment started to color your cheeks.  “Part of it is that, I have really physically affectionate tendencies but I’m also really touch-starved.”

 Eric look confused.

 “Well, for one, I haven’t had a significant other in a long, long time and I’ve never really been in a touchy-feely group of friends before so, even though I love it and want it so bad–”

 “You’re not used to it,”‌ he finished your sentence.‌  “So… you get embarrassed.”

 “Precisely.”

 Eric nodded and muttered, almost to himself, “‌I get that.”

 Silence fell for a moment before you spoke up.

 “Thank you,‌ Eric.”

 He looked at you, confused.  “For what?”

 “For checking in on me,”‌ You replied, grinning in spite of yourself.  “I mean there’s not really much to be done, but I‌ appreciate it a lot.”‌  You grabbed a plate and loaded it with some pizza before trying to find the remote again.

 Eric watched you fondly, with a quiet “You’re welcome,”‌ before an idea came to his head.

 “We, uh, we could b-be cuddle b-buddies.”

 You almost didn’t hear him and it took a moment to process what he was saying.  When you did though, you were pretty sure a tomato would be jealous of your face’s shade of red. ‌When you turned to face Eric, though, he was about the same so that made you feel a little better.  He smiled at you nervously, awaiting your response.

 “Ok,” was all you could get out.

 He was a little shocked.  But definitely relieved. “Really?!” He mentally scolded himself for sounding too excited, but he couldn’t help it–he was!

 “Uh, y-yeah that sounds really good!”

 And so you finally found the remote while‌ Eric fixed his plate and after a quick, stutter-y deliberation, you turned on a movie.  You paused before looking at Eric, who was already looking at you.  You both smiled and giggled a bit, instantly relaxing the tense atmosphere a little bit.

 Turning your attention to the movie, you slowly adjusted so that you were sitting up, but leaning against Eric. ‌ He eased his arm onto the back of the couch behind you, allowing for a closer proximity.  Red as lobsters and so full of butterflies you almost couldn’t eat, the two of you watched the movie.

 As the movie progressed, you both started to relax and feel more comfortable.  Even though you were still having issues with normal breathing, it was so so so nice.  When you finished eating, you placed your dishes on the table and readjusted.  

 He ended up laying down with you laying on top of him, with you resting your head on his chest, near the crook of his neck while he rested one hand on your back and caressed your arm with the other.  You were so warm and soft in his arms, like a weighted blanket.  And he adored your occasional little sighs by his ear that would make his breath hitch, just a little.  And his shoulder was such a wonderful headrest while his heartbeat was so soothing to hear underneath you.  But every time he adjusted to wrap his arms around you a little more, your heart skipped a beat. It was the most calm, relaxed, and serene exhilaration you had ever experienced.

 After the movie ended, you quickly started another.  This time, when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he ended up spooning you.  He had grown comfortable with the new closeness surprisingly quickly and almost dragged you onto the couch, excited to hold you close.  This gesture alone made you nearly explode from happiness.

 He wrapped one arm around your waist and rested the other under your head.  He ended up absentmindedly rubbing your stomach while nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.  After you adjusted and were finally breathing somewhat normally again, you relaxed into the curve of his body and, before long, fell asleep.  Meanwhile, Eric felt like he could combust with joy.  He had yet to tell you exactly how he felt about you, but this new arrangement was definitely a huge step forward.  

   When he was sure you were asleep, he tentatively placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck before getting comfortable and falling asleep.

[sunnomnoms]

How would Todoroki comfort an emotionally burned out S/O? (I really love how you write Shoto because just reading about him makes me so relaxed, like drinking tea)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO AAAAAAAAAAA

I had a bit of an emotional burn out myself recently I guess, hence the unannounced hiatus. But I’m back, and I have ur Todo content!!!! I wrote this as headcanons, I hope you don’t mind!! Also, I’m glad you like how I portray him, i do my best to be accurate but also realistic to his character!!

TW: mentions of animal and child neglect. I guess I’m in a bit of a morbid mood? I felt giving some details would make this feel more real, I’m sorry if it’s too much!

It had been after a tough mission that you two happened to be on together. It was an emotionally exhausting mission. It wasn’t one of epic proportion, it didn’t have any super heroic battles, no villainous empire to tear down, no evil overlord to stop.

Instead, the two of you had been working along side police force. Of course, you were recognized and respected as heroes, the two of you were doing work studies and were recognized as legitimate heroes. But the mission wasn’t a huge one.

Or so you thought

To bring things long story short, what you expected to be a quick wellness check turned out to be a horrifying sight of child and animal neglect. Owners of the house seemed to have skipped town, and completely abandon their pets and children. The neglect seemed to be long term, the owners skipping town seemed to be out of fear due to police suspicion.

It didn’t help that you were the one who initially discovered the neglected children. If Shoto hadn’t been there with you, you would have hit the ground when you fainted at the sight.

The next few days after the incident, you seemed to keep to yourself.

Shoto didn’t like this. It wasn’t that you weren’t giving him attention that bothered him, no, he didn’t mind when you wanted alone time. But this was abnormal. This wasn’t right, something was wrong. No text message telling him you were okay and just needed some time alone, no good morning or good night text (you always did those, no matter if you were distant or not), nothing.

He was worried. No, beyond worried. You were his significant other, you meant a whole lot to him. Sure he didn’t know exactly how to express that all the time, but he did everything he could to get it across that he was there for you. And you always seemed to know and appreciate that. Why is it any different now? Is it something he did? What happened?

It struck Shoto then that you and him had just been on a... harrowing mission. He had to mull over it a few times before it kind of hit him how awful that situation actually was. Shoto had kind of... disconnected himself from the situation despite everything so he could just kind of do what he had to. He learned to do this a good bit throughout his life, to disconnect and disregard emotions at certain times so he could get to the point and work.

But you? You had always been a companionate person. It’s one of the many things he loved about you.

He should have realized sooner. Of course you’re upset. Of course you couldn’t disconnect. He shouldn’t have expected you to.

It didn’t take long for him to make his way over to your dorm. He would have sprinted there, but given the hour of night it was he didn’t want to gain any suspicion. He stopped in front of your door, knocking oh-so gently.

“[Y/N].” Shoto called for you softly. A small rustle was heard within your room, then silence. He knocked again. “[Y/N], please let me in. I’m worried about you...” At first there was nothing, until he heard soft shuffling towards the door. A small click was heard, as well as some more shuffling. Shoto grabbed the nob gently, twisting it and entering your dorm slowly.

It was a bit of a mess, sure, but he wasn’t really worried about that. Instead, he made his way to your laying form on your bed. He sat on the bed gently, sitting near the foot of the bed as you back faced away from him. He looked over at you, unsure as what to do.

“Hey.” He started, hoping his greeting would get you to carry on the conversation. But you were silent. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, so instead, he just spoke.

“You don’t have to move or get up. You don’t have to even speak. It’s okay. I don’t mind. I know you’re struggling from that mission, I should have known you would. I know that kind of stuff gets to you. I was too busy disconnecting myself from it all that I didn’t even think about how you felt. I’m sorry.” Shoto speaks softly, his head slightly hanging. He truly did feel bad, he should have realized you didn’t feel okay. It just never striked him as an issue until now.

“Please don’t apologize.” You croaked back to him, your throat sounding slightly raw.

Shoto sighed, crawling into your bed and at your side, before laying on his back to stare at the ceiling.

“You did amazing on that mission. She’s gonna be okay because of you, you know that, right?” Shoto offered. You curled up a bit more. Shoot, maybe not the right thing to say.

“I’m proud of you. And... I’m also here for you. I know things are rough, but... I want to share the weight. I know it’s not easy to open up all the time, but... Please try to talk to me. I want to help you.” He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. Again, he wasn’t the best with words, but... he was trying. It was all a shot in the dark for him.

With some more shuffling, he felt you huddle up into his side. He wrapped his arms around you gently as you rested your face in the crook of his neck.

The truth was, you cried all of your tears and threw all of your fits over the situation. You were tired, and you had barely anything left to give emotionally. Shoto knew how this felt to an extent, his internal emotional battery would occasionally run out of power here and there as well. This on the other hand was different. You weren’t the stoic type, so it didn’t go unnoticed.

It lasted a few days really, but within those few days, Shoto hardly left your side. He wasn’t annoying you, no, he was a bit of a reminder that you truly weren’t alone. He also reminded you to eat, shower, and so what and so on.

Shoto would tell you gentle stories of sweeter points in his childhood. some of the happy stories and good memories. You knew the background Shoto came from, so it was delightful to hear that an occasional ray of light came through the darkness for him.

Shoto would just... be in your presence. He didn’t want to leave you alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you or anything, no, but he just wanted to be able to feel you around him. For those handful of bad days you had, he’d do his homework and even sleep in your room just to keep an eye on you.

He wasn’t just lying around or anything, no. He was helpful, too. Knowing how mentally burnt out you were, he helped with your homework and even would fetch things for you, wether it be across the room or in the common room. His main thing just seemed to be keeping an eye on you and coaxing you out of sulking completely all day and actually eating and caring for yourself. He probably would have been willing to bathe you too if you would have let him.

Shoto spent probably half of his time trying to talk to you at least a little, always giving you some loving words of support. If you weren’t much for talking with him, he’d just sit in comfortable silence with you as he did other things. Neither of you minded this, it was nice to just... exist around one another for awhile. Nothing about it was unfulfilling or boring about it, it was nice to just have him around.

After you had gotten yourself in orders and back to your normal self, Shoto was a bit more attentive to your emotions.

It’s never been easy for him to process emotions, much less other people’s emotions. But he’s willing to learn for your sake. Just give him some time.

He often would ask how you are, and if you weren’t feeling well he’d ask if you wanted him around or not. He never took offense if you wanted some alone time, even if it made him worry a bit. But if you wanted him around, he’d usually be quiet and just exist in your presence. If he spoke he spoke quietly, and if he touched you he’d warn you first. He did most anything to keep you comfortable when you weren’t feeling well.

[kanene-yaaay]

Cute Laughter (Valentickle)

Kanene Note’s: Heyaaaa!!! I know, I know, I’m a week late but… hey! It is me! The timelessness in person, what were you expecting? :DD)/

XDD

Just joking, lol. But sorrey for the lack of fanfiction here, though. I was on my Test Week and so busy that I didn’t even remembered to post it here on Valentine’s Day. Anyway, Carnaval’s Holiday had (finally!!!!!!) arrived and I will try to be more active here as well to write a little some some!!

Weeeeelll…. Hope you all like this fanfic! It is a short oneshot for an awesome Valentickle that happened on Discord! \0/

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belongs to Thomas Sanders! Yaaay!

* This is a SFW Tickle-fic focus on the shipp Moxiety (Virgil x Patton), so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another arts. There are a lot of wonderful arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* Something around 2000 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Oh, they’re all humans here. Patton is a tired lovely dad and Virgil is the kind shy employee from one of his favorite stores.

[~*~]

Virgil was about to flee.

And ‘about to flee’ means that he already had deposited all the bags on the bed as gently as possible, which consequently meant that he had no escape beyond standing right there, staring the other with black rims glasses and a warm smile tenderly and with a little of tiredness rocks the baby in his arms.

And for ‘had no escape’ I mean that even going back to work was impossible, since by the time his coworker would already have stowed all the things and closed the store, letting the children’s products bathed themselves in the end of the sift’s darkness.

And by ‘end of the sift’ I want to made clear that the shift has ended just now, and not fifteen minutes before, when the loyal costumer with a considerable amount of hurry and messy hair (which unfairly looked so stunning on hi- Focus, Virgil! Focus!) ran into the store, urgently needing a series of products on and for that night. By the way which he hurried from his home (What? He lived in the front house! You can’t blame a guy for being observant.) he probably really needed those products, and one of the last attendants, that one who was always tidying up some things and always got some time to attend him, couldn’t get himself to say ‘no’ to those shiny eyes, which should be illegal.

Definitely and totally illegal.

So he decided to help him.

And with ‘help him’ I seek to show that the employee not only contributed on the choice of the products, but also in a outslaugh of bravery, offered himself to carry part of the bags to the other’s house.

Which brought him to his very actual situation: in the baby and Patton’s room, with no way out and that annoying persistent voice in the deep of his mind screaming and twinkling in red alert as the one who wore glasses approached and putted Simon on the baby crib. Something that made Virgil extremely conscious that they were just a few moments to talk, which leaded all the alerts to implode and beat throughout his body at the same accelerated way as his heart.

Too much data? Ok. Let’s recapitulate:

Virgil was in love, and probably would spontaneously combust if Patton kept staring him with that adorable, thankful smile. Signalized for both leave the room as quietest as possible, promptly attended by the purple-haired employee. It don’t took too long for them found themselves in the living room enjoying the silence.

- You are so sweet! Thank you for helping me with the bags. - He headed to the kitchen; his excited voice filling the entire place even in whispers. - Come on, stay for dinner, I insist!

- I, huh,… - MAYDAY!!! Come on, Virgil! Your dream guy (literally, since that one time when he dreamt tha-O.K. Now is not a good time, Brain!!) is asking you out to dinner! His hands started to shake, mind spinning non stop, dry mouth. - No, thanks. I’m not hungry.

And, as if it were a movie, his stomach chose that exactly time to contradict him in a protesting rumble. The employee coughed, following the only escape that his bluescreen brain manage to arrange.

- That is not what it is saying to me! ~ - Patton poked his tummy, watching him to move away, a wobbly smile painting his face. Behind the lenses, his honey colored eyes shone, initiating a beating danger alert in Virgil‘s core.

- Wait… - He began to put distance between both, watching the other reflect his movements, although forward with an angelic smile in his traces, a not so naive look. 

- So… - Patton sang. - Are you staying for dinner?

- Why are you approaching? - Fixated his look on the exit door. Patton was just some few centimeters from him; it would take a miracle in order to escape.

- I just want to know if you’re staying for dinner. - The host shrugged, his hands rising a bit over the necessary, his fingers wriggling.

- I- His back hit the cold concrete and, in the exact moment that their eyes unfolded themselves, two hands attacked his armpits, unlocking a muffled squeal that remotely sounded like a ‘wAIT-’.

The fingers started to stirs, skillfully kneading and poking every inch of the ticklish skin while the victim’s hands ran to his mouth, only being capable to muffle his giggles, since the gigantic smile was easily noticeable on the corner of his lips. Virgil struggled for quick seconds, squirming vigorously before Patton began to scratch his nails in that exactly spot in the middle of his armpits. His legs then weakened at the same time as a series of snorts rushed through the cracks beginning to form on the barrier of pressed lips. Patton followed him to the floor, giggling as noticed the red spreading on the other’s face.

- Virgil…~ - His face was on flames. If he opened his eyes and saw the owner of that tune, his entire face would definitely melt. - You haven’t answered my question yet.

The employee shook his head, squirming helpless as realized that didn’t mattered how much his upper body jumped in every new scribbling, each tickle was so light and so unbearable that would make him broke at any momen-ACK! OHMYGOD! How he was so good at this?? It wasn’t evENONonononOT THERE!

He was giving up, already sensing the laughter falling through his lips, intercalated by snorts and squeaks, embarrassing an uncontrollable as the quick, skilled, focus on provoking every inch of ticklish skin, finge-

It stopped.

His lungs automatically took over and the purple-haired gasped, sipping great amounts of oxygen, the huge smile being so impossible to erase as the sensation of flying butterflies in his stomach. His watery eyes opened and bumped on that smile.

Limpid.

Shiny.

And magnificent hypnoti-

A pair of hands squeezed his sides and the feeling was too much strong for be interrupted when a high pitch squeal flied from his mouth. That idiot smile increased even more.

- Wait! NonononO! – Now the laughter flowed freely, falling in an incoherent mess of yelps and shrieks. His shoulders trembled in the attempt of not letting his hands go from his mouth. The other’s fingers found way to his tummy, every squeeze making him instantly try to curl, which was impossible with the host on his legs. The said now lifted his hands as it was claws, cooing when saw Virgil’s gleaming eyes following every infinitesimal move, and wriggling in the air just to appreciate the bubbling giggles before quickly lowering and vibrate them in the victim’s belly.

A muffled scream filled shortly the room.

- Awwww, twe cute little Virge is too much ticwlish for this? Uh? Uh? Can some tickle tickle tickling transforms him in an adorable mess of beauty giggles? – Each word spoken in that baby voice was a stronger shade of red in the employee’s face. His entire body jumped a little when a curious finger reached his bellybutton. He denied.

- Nohohohot cutehehehe!

- Aww. – Patton almost lost the ‘evil’ posture, for a moment, he lightly bitted the tip of tongue excitedly, trying to hold himself from just stop and fill Virgil’s face with kisses (A guy can dream, okay?) for being so adorable. However, in the end he succeeded to gather his willpower and paint a frown on his face. - ‘Nohohot cute’? Lying won’t make you any good, mister! – And, to prove his point he scratched that ticklish point just below the navel, what didn’t have that squeaky cute laugh, but made his blush research his ears.

- Stohohohohop!! ‘ahahahaham not a chihihihihihild!!!

- Sure you are not! If you were, I definitely would have done this earlier! – For a second the attack ceased and Virgil could breathe almost normally, at least until a raspberry was replaced right in his bellybutton.

The sensation exploded through his whole body and his laughter became silent, the entire world disappearing for a moment. Suddenly a blast of strength hit him and, after a second, his eyes faced a Patton pinned on the floor, a playful smile shining in his features. The host tenderly wiped a happiness’ tear on other’s cheek. His touch was incredible soft.

- You laughteeeer!!! - His phrase was interrupted by a squeal; it seemed as if the host would bounce through the walls. Virgil felt the flames in his face also infected his neck. – It’s so beautiful and adorable!!

Maybe it was the playfulness mood between both, maybe it was his competitive spirit or maybe it was a crazy thought from his tickled mind, albeit a suddenly smirk took over his face and made goose bumps ran Patton’s spine.

- I bet it’s not as much as yours.

He turned, taking advantage of his position and tossed Patton’s, who weakly protested, slippers across the room, being rewarded with excitedly giggles dancing in the place before he even did something.

-  Vir-r-gil! – And he was prevent to continue by a series of snorts flying around when the said began to lightly brush his fingers across his sole, being careful to not lead to loud laughter that would wake the baby up. Went up and down, amused with how much high he could make the giggles be by just slightest scratching his nails near to the toes and how much he was capable to transform Patton in a puddle of jumpy squeaky yelps running over themselves by focusing in his heel.

It was like a symphony, and only one instrument was missing…

- What? The big Tickle Monster can’t stand a little of his own medicine? - He turned back and joyfully noticed the heat increase further in the host’s already-scarlet face. -Who am I kidding, ‘tickle monster?’ It is more like Giggle Monster, don’t you think? Look how helpless and at my ease you are! 

Patton started and tripped over his own words a couple of times, hugging himself and almost melting on the soft and equally impossible to ignore (or even don’t laugh) touch, until finally managed to form a phrase.

- Wohohohohorth it! Youhohohohou werehehehehehehe so cute! - And one more time let himself be subdue by the onslaught of frenetic and ​​high-pitched laughter, since Virgil concentrated on that extremely sensitive skin right under his toes.

This gave the purple lover an idea.

- Oh, is that so? - His predatory look only got wider when the other nodded, agreeing. - You know, on the subject of children I remembered something interesting… Tell me, giggle puddle, does ‘This little piggy’ sounds familiar to you?

- Wahahahait! Nohoho! 

- Oh, no? Allow me to remind you, then. - With a calm precision he ignored Patton’s squirming becoming a little stronger, as well his excitedly, wobbly giggles. He held the first toe, snorting along with the other when he let go a shriek. - This little piggy went to Market.

- Vihihihihihihrgil! Nohoho! – Squeak, squeak, squeak.

- This little piggy stayed home. ~

- Nohohohohot my tohohohohohoes! Ticklehehehehehehes sohohoho mu-u-ch!! – Squeak, snort, squeak, squeak.

- Better keep it low to not wake up the baby, then. This little piggy had roast beef. ~

- Stihihihihihill worhohohoohoht it!!! Ack! Virgehehehehehehe! – Squeak, snort, squeak, snort, yelp!

- And this little piggy had none. – He very lightly scribbled his fingers across Patton’s tingled soles, appreciating the little jump leaded. Patton melted even more into laughter.

- And this piggy went - The one who wears glasses couldn’t take no more and boosted himself to a sit position, hugging the employee from behind and hiding his face on his neck, seeking to muffle himself. - Wee wee wee, all the way home! –Virgil felt his heart expand and softly danced his nails through all extension of the other’s feet, weak enough to produce only giggles mixed up with squeals, but strong enough to still tickle.

- Still worth it now? – He turned, his teasing tune dying right when he faces the other’s expression. His glasses, almost falling from his nose, went up and down as Patton sought to recover his breath and probably the normal coloration of his face completely assaulted by the tickles. The remaining laughter gently hit Virgil’s features, who for a heartbeat was also breathless.

Silence.

Patton kissed him.

Stilled giggling, which made the purple lover also to giggle, transforming the whole experience in the most giggly kiss they ever dreamed to have.

They broke the touch, eyes meeting.

- I needed to muffle my giggles or Simon would hear! - Virgil rolled his eyes at the obvious excuse. Their glare met again, a bright smile stamped on their expressions.

…

Reader, pleeeeease, they are dating now!

[imagine-loki]

Greatest Fears

TITLE: Greatest Fears CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 of 3 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s wife suffering a terrible nightmare and him soothing her after it. RATING: T? Probably? I mean, if you got this far, you should be fine. NOTES/WARNINGS: This is an older fic. I meant to post it here when this imagine popped up, and then completely forgot to because I am great at planning. Since I’m going through my files trying to rekindle the muse, I figured I might as well post it now, y'know? XD

I… forgot to submit this chapter. I have failed this city.

__________________

    After the initial shock and bemusement over the news that she now had a personal slave in Amora had waned; Samantha had smacked Loki upside the head for being so rash, kissed him for his intent to defend her, and then punched Amora hard enough to knock her to the floor for messing with her head. Loki was surprised at that last one, as she had never been one very prone to physical violence; he inwardly decided that Amora’s torment would be even worse now for rattling his wife that much.

      “I really must say, Sam; rage is a… surprisingly good look on you…” Loki practically purred; wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and drawing her earlobe between his teeth, tugging it slightly, before kissing his way down to her neck, “Perhaps we could put it to more… productive use…”

      His intentions were two-fold: He did want to calm her; as long as he’d known her she had been very self-conscious about her superhuman strength, and he knew that she would feel terrible about herself later if he let her lash out like that again. But there was also a part of him that wanted to flaunt his very healthy marriage in front of Amora, to further drive home her failure.

      Samantha pulled away from him slightly. “This is hardly the time,” she replied and looked pointedly towards Amora, who was watching them with a mixture of anger and disgust as she got back to her feet.

      Loki scoffed. “You didn’t seem to mind when I took you in that very public park in Midgard last year.”

      “That was different,” Samantha said quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Nobody saw that.”

      “Or maybe you were just too preoccupied to notice,” Loki teased.

      “By the Norns; you are depraved,” Amora spat, looking very much like she might throw up.

      Loki laughed darkly. “You don’t know the half of it.” He grinned menacingly. “Yet…”

      “Out,” Samantha ordered, nodding her head to the doors.

      “Yes, mistress,” Amora said through gritted teeth before she turned and walked away into the next room.

      When she was gone Samantha turned around, looked up at her husband with an arched eyebrow. “Really?”

      “She started it,” Loki replied with a shrug, causing her to roll her eyes. He looked at her intently and licked his bottom lip. “I was serious with my suggestion, you know.”

      Samantha opened her mouth to reply, but he interrupted her by lunging at her suddenly and kissing her with an intensity that stole her breath away. She didn’t need much convincing after that as Loki pulled her over to their bed; and while Amora was spared from having to watch, the closed doors did very little to muffle the sounds of their passion, much to her dismay and Loki’s secret amusement.

  ***

     Once Loki had had his temporary fill of Samantha, he told her about the last thing Odin had said to him. She had been a bit surprised; in the time she had known the Allfather, he had only rarely shown his adopted son any overt regard, let alone affection. She was careful to stoke the little ember of happiness the praise had given him and told him to remember the words well, not wanting to let the king’s actual good advice go to waste; she then left the Enchantress at the mercy of her husband after making him promise he wouldn’t take it too far (she didn’t think he would, but it didn’t hurt to make sure) and went off to find her father-in-law, intending to discuss matters further. She found the king speaking to one of his generals, and waited until they were finished to approach.

      When Odin turned and acknowledged her, she commented, “You know; Loki is convinced he is losing what little sanity he still had left.”

      Odin huffed a slight laugh then gestured for her to follow him to a nearby bench; once they were seated he said, “My late wife spent most of his life telling me that I was too hard on him; that I did not treat him as well as Thor.” He paused for a moment. “It has taken me far too long to realise just what she meant by that.”

      “He has a sensitive heart,” Samantha said thoughtfully, “Which by no means makes him weak; he just… feels things more intensely.” She gave a slight laugh. “Combine that with an overactive and curious mind, a quiet disposition and a penchant for mischief; and I can’t imagine he was very easy to deal with.”

      “Ah, but I should have made more of an effort to understand him,” Odin replied, and she only barely held back the urge to agree aloud. He was thoughtful for a moment then said, “I have made mistakes where both of my sons are concerned, but at least I can take pride in the men they have become.” He placed a hand over Samantha’s on her lap. “I have you to thank for bringing Loki out from the depths of madness and rage he spiralled into. I myself would never have reached him; I was at a loss as to how.”

      Samantha smiled. “No one should have to feel that tormented.”

      Odin returned the smile and said fondly, “You remind me of her so.”

      “And I will always be honoured to hear that,” Samantha replied, knowing well to whom he was referring, “I wish I could have me her.”

      “She would have adored you.” He was silent for another moment then said, “You are a fine young woman, Samantha. I confess at first I did not expect it to be so; my impression was that you would be as dark of mind and heart as Loki, for who else would love him as he was. Instead I was faced with a soul full of gentleness, quiet strength and compassion; and a son I never thought I would see again.” He patted her hands with a surprisingly fatherly affection. “You have my eternal gratitude for helping to make my family as whole as it can ever be again.”

  ***

      By the end of Amora’s sentence she was thoroughly miserable. Loki humiliated her with the most menial of tasks (his favourites being having her change the bedsheets and assist him in his baths, which she loathed the most), and Samantha had her almost constantly running around on errands, though hers where a little less embarrassing for the Enchantress. Normally the former mortal would’ve balked at the idea of taking advantage of a situation like that, but she had been very upset over the nightmare and she figured maybe Amora would leave her alone after that.

      Amora walked up to Samantha, who was lounging on a couch in the sitting room of hers and Loki’s hall with a book in one hand and a cup of wine in the other, and placed a small stack of books on a nearby table before turning to the other woman. “Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?”

      Samantha lifted her now-empty cup, wordlessly indicating she wanted a refill, without so much as a glance in the Enchantress’ direction. Amora swallowed her pride and anger, going over to another table and grabbing a jug of wine before going back and filling Samantha’s cup. The dark-skinned woman didn’t bother to acknowledge the action beyond taking a small sip of her drink and Amora bit back the urge to say or do anything she knew she would come to regret, resigning herself to simply standing there until Samantha told her otherwise.

      Though she would never admit it aloud, Amora greatly preferred Loki’s wife to the man himself; aside from the often exhausting amount of running around to fetch things she had her do, Samantha mostly ignored her altogether. Loki was not nearly as merciful; often toying with her by giving her conflicting instructions then berating her as though she were an idiot when she got things wrong, as well as taking pretty much every chance he could to humiliate her in public, especially when her sister or Thor were around. The worst part of it was that Loki wasn’t actually hurting her; she hadn’t expected to survive the month after Loki’s reaction to her spell, but instead she was subjected to verbal torment and embarrassment and nothing more.

      Loki walked into the room somewhat tiredly - wanting nothing more than a long bath and a nap with his wife cradled in his arms - and raised an eyebrow when he saw Amora standing in front of his wife, evidently awaiting a command. “You; with me,” he snapped.

      “Yes, master,” Amora bit out, trying not to stumble over the title, as she followed him into the bedchamber then the bathchamber beyond.

      Oh, how she hated calling him that. Which she knew was exactly why he insisted on it.

      As Amora helped Loki strip out of his armour, Samantha leaned against the doorway. “I really hope you’ve learned your lesson here, Amora.”

      “And what lesson would that be, mistress?” Amora asked; hating her current task even more now there was someone to witness it.

      In a flash Loki had grasped her chin then none-too-gently turned her face towards his. “Never try to come between Sam and me again.” He released her and waved her off. “Your services are no longer required.”

      As Amora walked out of the room Samantha walked past her into it to take her place, intending to join her husband after a week of not seeing him. After a while the Enchantress heard a bit of splashing coming from the room as well the distinct sound of moans, and decided that, yes; she had definitely learned her lesson.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 56: Breaking the Fast(Over Someone’s Head)

Chapters: 56/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: none Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel), Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Vision Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Bitches Gonna Bitch, When Shall We Three Meet Again, Here Have Some Foreshadowing

You woke in incredible comfort, tucked into Loki's arms. You'd never been in a more comfortable bed; the pillows and blankets were like clouds, and the company even better. Loki lay silent and still, his hair mussed, his pale face serene. You'd spent so much time kissing, and caressing, and cuddling that you had just eventually fallen asleep holding each other.

You stared into his sleeping face, absorbing everything that had happened. The way he had cupped your face and kissed you with such sweet ardor. How he'd held you in his lap and let his hands roam over your body, enthusiastically praising you, telling you about how he had been falling for you over all this time. You couldn't help but to babble about how you felt about him, in between kisses.

What it all boiled down to was that Loki Odinson, Crown Prince of Asgard, Scourge of New York, royalty, alien, and god...was totally into you. Somehow. And it sounded like he had been for some time.

In hindsight, it was really kind of obvious.

You smooched his nose, and he yawned, his eyes opening into an expression of delight.

“It wasn't a dream.” He whispered, and held you even tighter. “We're going to stay right here all day.”

You giggled. “As much as I'd love that, you know we can't. There's stuff to do, and royal guests to see...”

Loki mock-frowned. “You just had to bring them up, didn't you? And it was such a perfect morning. Speaking of, did you sleep well, my darling?”

“Um, yeah. Really well, actually.”

“Good, that's good. I want nothing but pleasure and comfort for you, when you are in my arms.”

He began kissing you again, heedless of any pointless little concerns like morning breath, but you knew from how he'd acted last night that you really would be here all day if you didn't do something.

You let it go on for a few more minutes-he really was intoxicating, after all-then pushed at his chest.

“Is something wrong?” He asked as he pulled away.

“We've gotta get up. Get some breakfast. Bathe.”

A sly smile broke across his face. “If you insist...”

“Not like that!” You slapped his chest. He released you, and you rolled out of bed. Your had slept in your dress, and it was badly rumpled now, the metal clasps cutting into your skin. Loki was up and out of his tunic in one motion.

��You know, it's okay to bathe together.” He said. “We do it all the time. I won't try anything.”

“Yeah, but...” But today was not the same as yesterday, and there wasn't any reason not to, was there? And Loki's hunger for intimacy was still clear and present. “Well...okay. But no funny business!”

“Yes, my Seidkona.” He breathed. His voice sent a shiver spiraling down your spine. You might be the one needing to keep a rein on yourself. You had seen Loki naked before, and it was a sight to behold.

You both changed separately, and Loki turned his back so that you could get into the bathtub. He was very gentlemanly, and you allowed him to scrub your back, which he did reverently, kissing the little marks the metal in your dress had left on your skin.

Watching Loki wash his hair was very distracting; the soap and water trickled down his body in the most alluring way.

This was so much like a fairy tale. The handsome prince, the steamy bath, the myth, the magic. Were you sure this was real?

“Is something wrong, dear?” He asked, soaping your arms. “Are you...rethinking?” The nervousness was palpable in his voice.

“No, no, nothing like that! It's just...What are we now? How will we make this work? Do we have to keep it secret? Will this cause a huge scandal?”

“Of course it will cause a scandal!” Loki laughed. “Why, when Thor brought his mortal home to Asgard, I was in solitary confinement in the dungeons, and even I heard about it! Such a thing had never happened! But once people got past the initial shock and outrage, they were mostly fine with it. Not entirely, of course, but he didn't have the whole of Asgard against him. This is where we have an advantage; we aren't the first to do this. For once, I'm not the lead in a scandal. And we are here, on Earth, surrounded by humans. Mixed relationships won't be uncommon. We shall be pioneers, you and I.”

You took the soap from him and shyly rubbed the suds over his chest and shoulders.

“So...does that mean you're my boyfriend now?” It was a strange word to apply to someone like Loki.

“You're my inamorata, yes, if you would like to be. I would like you to be.”

“And is this, um, is this an exclusive thing? I'd prefer that personally, but I get it if you want to keep your options ope-”

Loki snatched you into his arms with fierce speed, squishing your body against his slippery torso.

“I would have no one but you.” He nearly hissed. “I will not split my affections. I couldn't even think of it.”

“Oh. Well that's very reassuring.” You said, heart pounding. He had said he wouldn't try anything. “I just kinda want to know where we stand, what we are, you know, all that.”

“What we are is glorious.” Your skin slid against his, the muscles rippling under the soap, bringing a pink heat to his face. “And very slippery. Please pardon me, I got a little carried away.” He released you, stepping away. “I just wanted to assure you that I take this seriously. I am not toying with you; I would have this relationship grow, if you also would.”

You nodded, satisfied for the moment. This was real, not a fluke, not a seduction, not a dream.

The dress that awaited you was a soft and luxurious thing of green, orange, gold, and red, snake and floral embroidery trimming the hem. All of the warm layers had been taken in for you; you could tell from the brand new stitching.

Your book of sagas had illustrations in it as well as stories and, true to Saldis' explanation, all the women dressed like you now did, all the way down to the big, oval brooches that fastened to your shoulder straps, and the beads strung between them.

You still found it rather sweet that the tailors here were trying so hard to put you in what they thought would be 'familiar' clothing, and to dress you like what they felt was a fine, high class human lady.

High class American ladies didn't dress like this. In fact, nowadays, classy clothing was almost indistinguishable from everybody elses' clothes, just better tailored. It was less about the garment itself, and more about the name on the label. And the jewelry too, but the jewelry you wore with these lovely clothes was also very different from the classy ladies back home. A simple, minimalist approach was the preferred method for displaying wealth and importance back home. A diamond tennis bracelet, pure gold studs, a delicate chain with a single diamond drop.

Your jewelry, though no lesser in quality, definitely reflected an older approach. The oval strap brooches were large to you, the size of an egg-though the illustrations in you book showed that such brooches had one been much larger-and delicately engraved with elegantly knotted horned serpents, green stones winking from their eyes. Three strands of beads were strung across your chest between them; one of gold and silver, one of amber, and one of pearls. These were different than your usual strands of glass beads, or brightly colored yarn braids. In fact, everything was top of the line today: there were charms hanging from your beads, little moon-shaped crescents with intricate granulation, multi-looped clasps shaped like swans that you were meant to hang your chatelaine from. That consisted of your tiny, cylindrical emergency sewing kit, made of bone and silver, a silver, scallop-shaped hand mirror, a silver and shell compact containing tweezers, nail clippers, a file, tiny scissors, and a weird little spoon shaped object that you didn't yet know the function of, and the key to Loki's quarters.

Your apron was decorated with many strips of woven ribbon; red, orange, and yellow in geometric patterns, and the seams of your sleeves were trimmed with thick, clearly visible contrasting stitching,  your belt embroidered with birds, their long necks and long tails interlocking, flower-shaped silver buttons tacked on along its length, the ends clasped in decorative metal tips.

It was very cold this morning, so a warm, woolen cap, and a pair of gloves had also come along with the  ensemble, just as finely made as the rest of it. The cap had shimmering beads embroidered all around the rim, looking to you like a crown.

Everybody in this whole palace complex knew what you had gotten up to last night, didn't they? And now they were pulling out all the stops, or at least, as many as they were allowed to. They had sent you earrings, matching the little crescent moon charms on your bead strands, and an entire separate necklace, made of amber beads, and yet more crescent charms. Your slippers were embroidered velvet, and the stockings underneath were so soft and smooth that you almost couldn't stop touching them. Even the little phone holster that clipped onto your belt was touched with small details, the leather embossed with the image of a tree.

You wondered if the clothiers had beads and brooches and charms just sitting around in piles, or stashed in boxes. If, every day, they strung beads and charms onto strings and paired them up with whichever dress they had chosen for you that day. These brooches, with their green-eyed, horned snakes, seemed awfully specific for them to have had already made, and you wondered if Loki had had them commissioned. And if so, when?

Loki met you at the door, almost as decorated as you were. Asgardian men did not tend towards jewelry, beyond the occasional bead in their hair or beard, or the coronets that you assumed only Thor and Loki had the privilege of wearing. Instead, most of their precious metal and jewels were embedded into their clothes, in the form of armor or strap embellishments. Loki himself seemed to prefer asymmetrical hems and diagonal elements, and he was properly decked out in both. In fact, the cut of his black overcoat made it look like some kind of odd, tailed tuxedo, trimmed in silver and covered in embroidery, also black, that was only visible when the light struck it in a certain way.

“Ready for breakfast, precious?” He asked with a smile.

“We're laying it on a bit thick just for some oatmeal, aren't we?” You laughed, and he offered you his arm.

The banquet hall was full, for the first time since you had been there, full of Aesir and Avengers, Icelandic officials and Asgardian nobles. They all stopped talking, turning to look at the two of you, Loki standing tall and proud, his expression bright, you hanging off his arm, wearing something that evoked the image of a crown, and you were suddenly very aware of how all this must look.

Today was very different than yesterday.

“Good morning friends.” Loki said. “I hope the day finds you well.”

“Not as well as it finds you, evidently.” Tony grumbled. Pepper elbowed him in the side.

Nobody else said anything about it, going back to their conversations, but the sly looks, knowing grins, and glares followed you to your seat at Loki's side.

Breakfast was an elaborate affair that morning; to reflect the importance of the guests, you thought. Fruit carved like flowers, the fluffiest eggs and pancakes, plump sausage links, lingonberry preserves, and hot, sweet coffee. There was oatmeal and toast for those who wanted it, milk and juice as well.

Thor and Brunnhilde had seated Dr. Banner next to them, and were chatting amiably away. Banner looked a bit rougher than you expected him to, but you assumed that makeup and hair gel were a regular part of the photoshoots. Dr. Banner was notorious for not making live appearances, interviews, or PR tours, and you supposed you couldn't blame him. If anyone prized their alone time, it would be him.

Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton had been seated next to you, though Clint seemed less pleased by the proximity to Loki. He kept shooting wary glances at the prince, who made no indication that he noticed. But as Natasha chatted with you about daily life in Asgard, Loki pressed his leg against yours under the table, gently nudging your foot with his.

He would become shameless, if you let him.

It was tempting.

After breakfast was a time of mingling, Aesir, Avenger and officials. Many of the nobles left, but those that stayed were drawn to the Avengers; new faces, reputed to have been strong and resourceful enough to pose a challenge to their prince. The language barrier posed a problem, but there were enough of them who could speak English to provide translation to their fellows.

Several of the officials approached you for various reasons; to inquire about your health and safety, to ask about the human encampments and the recent fight, and even to compliment you on your dress. You weren't sure how much information you were meant to give, and kept your answers short and polite. You didn't want to cause any trouble by being too loose-lipped.

The dour, somewhat scruffy fellow you recognized as being the Winter Soldier-but not anymore?-approached you on Steves behalf. “He wants to say he likes your dress, and that he's sorry for causing you problems last night. He didn't know you were involved.”

“None of that is his fault.” You pointed out. “I asked him to dance, and Loki wasn't communicating as effectively as he could have. Neither was I, I guess. I'm pretty sure it's safe for Captain Rogers to talk to me himself. Sorry you've gotten tangled up in this, but I'm putting an end to it now, Mr....?”

He paused, wearing an expression somewhat like a confused dog. He must have expected you to know his name already, but you only knew him by his former moniker.

“...Barnes.” He said, after along pause.

“Mr. Barnes. I don't want anyone playing this silly 'telephone' game. People are allowed to talk to me face to face, Loki doesn't actually control that. If he wants to get jealous about it, I'll just remind him why he shouldn't be.”

One corner of his mouth ticked upward, giving his sleepy eyes a rakish look. If he really was the same age as Steve, then he was probably a charmer, in his day.

“Couldn't happen to a nicer guy, I'm sure.” He said, then threw a look over his shoulder, to Steve. “Hey!” He called. “Talk to her yourself!”

You snorted in held-back laughter as Steve put his face in his hand, and Loki perked up like a cat who had just heard the scratching of a mouse. This was so much like something Tara would do.

Speaking of which...

“Excuse me for a moment.” You said, finding an unused corner of the hall and snapping a selfie, which you sent to Tara and your father, with a morning greeting. The phone was a godsend of the most literal kind, allowing you contact back home, so you didn't have to worry about how everyone was doing, and they could know how you fared as well.

The bakery at the grocery store you used to work at was apparently famous now. They sold baked goods themed after you and Loki, Thor and Asgard. It was ridiculous and goofy, and you were utterly charmed by the pictures Tara sent you; of cupcakes with sparkly icing to represent your magic-the cat was out of the bag on that-of croissants in Loki-themed packaging.

You were profoundly relieved that the people back home had decided to celebrate all this, rather than condemning and hating you, and you hoped the bakery would be wildly successful. You had to show Loki those croissants, though. He would love them.

You noticed Loki, the wizard Strange, and one of the Avengers you hadn't been formally introduced to-a tall, but relatively average looking man-all slipped into one of the banquet halls' many smaller side rooms, and wondered if you were supposed to be with them. But no, if you had, Loki would have come to collect you. They were probably just discussing something about magic. Maybe that unknown fellow was another mage? It seemed like there was always someone new on the team, however temporary.

“My mistress says that you are even more a fool than she first thought.” Said a barely familiar voice. You turned away from Mr. Barnes to the unwelcome sight of Gloa, and her maidservant.

“Oh, it's you guys again. Were you at the table? I hadn't noticed.”

Gloa spoke; her servant translated.

“She had believed that humankind was without manners or decorum, but you have proved it this morning by flaunting yourself so shamelessly. Who do you think you are?”

You heard Barnes shifting uncomfortably behind you. An Asgardian catfight was probably beyond his experience.

“I am Loki's Seidkona.” You said simply.

The servant sighed at her mistress's words. “You are Loki's harlot. You think it gives you importance, but you are nothing more than a powerless, decorative, and above all, temporary creature.”

“You know, the last person who called me something like that ended up in jail. So, what does she hope to get out of this? Is she jealous or something?” You were tired of this already, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

Gloa went red in the face.

“She says she would never have a creature so low and debased as Loki, that, prince or king, he will always be beneath her, and that only mortal slime would accept such as him. She says that he should start preparing your funerary boat early, and learn what it really means to mourn.”

You drew yourself up as tall as you could-still shorter than both Gloa and the maid-suddenly aware that you had at least as much jewelry and at least as fine clothing as Gloa did. She was probably stinging at your status being elevated to hers, as if she had done anything other than being born to earn hers. You were also aware that Mr. Barnes was no longer behind you, and was, in fact, nowhere to be seen.

You were alone in this.

“Your threats are pointless, and you are wasting my time, you useless, catty bi-”

                                                                          *****

“We need to keep in touch.” Strange said.

“I disagree.” Loki answered.

“Let me guess; it's because you hate me.”

“Very astute! I did not think you had it in you.”

“There are things we must discuss.” Vision interrupted, calm in the face of the other's ire. “About the stones.” In this private room, he had abandoned his human appearance, the yellow gem sparkling brightly in his scarlet forehead.

“Well, I've got mine, and he's got his, and you clearly have yours. What is it that we need to discuss?”

“Do you have yours?” Strange asked. “It's obvious that Vision has his, and quite clear that mine is still in my keeping.” He gestured to the pendant resting against his robes. “But all we have to assure us that you still have yours is your word, which, you understand, holds about as much water as a sieve here on Earth.”

Loki glared, holding out his hand. A ball of blue ice glowed in his palm, which also slowly turned blue.

“Just because I do not flaunt it like you fools, does not mean I don't have it.” He dropped his hand, the icy orb gone. “So are we done? You showed me yours, I showed you mine, are we a secret society now?”

Stephan grimaced at the innuendo, but Vision just tilted his head, not comprehending.

“There have been some odd fluctuations that I cannot quite explain.” He said. “I can sense when they are happening, but not what is causing them, nor whom.”

Loki took a seat, brow furrowing. “Fluctuations in the stones? What can you tell us about it?” That was indeed something worth discussing. Four of the stones were on Earth right now-something Loki thought very dangerous, but it couldn't be helped. The stones had chosen their own guardians, finally settling into balance. Loki didn't have any say in it.

“As near as I can describe it, since the stones are all at least somewhat sentient, the Mind Stone can sense them, perhaps even communicate with them. I cannot; I believe the higher functions of the Mind Stone work at a higher frequency than my matter-based body can reach. But I can feel it sometimes, and I believe what I am sensing is someone utilizing the power of at least one of the stones.”

Strange and Loki stared at him.

“That is very concerning.” Loki said. “Well. It's not me. I have not used the Stone for most of a year. I will use it again, but only to help better our Bifrost, and only when our engineers have worked out more of the stabilization problems.”

“Haven't used it at all.” Strange said. “No need for it.”

“And I use this only inasmuch as it allows me to exist.” Vision stated.

“The space pirates?” Strange ventured.

“Impossible.” Loki said. “It took all of them together just to contain the Power Stone, and they can no longer safely wield it without the flora colossus at full strength.”

“And our...ally on Vormir has not contacted us.” Vision pointed out. “He is not very loquacious, even with the technology we left him, but I am certain that if someone made an attempt at the soul stone, he would tell us.”

“Damn.” Loki said. “My brother is going to kill me.”

“As entertaining as that would be...why?” Strange asked.

“Because I believe we are going to need to contact Dr. Foster.”

“Ah, the sting of lost love.”

“Do they not get along?” Vision asked.

“Well, no...it's not that. It's a little complicated. But my brother has been extravagant in his vows never to bother her again.” Loki explained.

“You however, have taken no such vows.” Stephen pointed out.

“I have not.” Loki confirmed.

“So what is it with Asgardian royalty, and human women?” Strange asked. “Is it a fetish, or...”

“That's none of your-”

The door popped open, and Bucky peeked in. “Hey, Merlins. I think your girl's gonna get in a fistfight with some other lady. Tall dame, acting like a real pill. Doesn't speak a word of English, had someone other lady translating for her.”

“Gloa...” Loki said darkly. “Excuse me gentlemen... and Stephen. I have to go head off an incident.”

[greekowl87]

Fic: After Shock

A/N: I feel like I haven’t had time to breathe since I started the new job and my anxiety has made it so I haven’t been sleeping a lot either. I haven’t been writing either. So decided to rewatch ‘Wetwire’ after some friends were just rewatching and tried to bust out a quick fic. It took two weeks.I don’t know where my head took me with this. Taggin @90saolchatroom because it was one of her comments that started this idea.

P.S. I also make a reference to another fic I wrote called Sure. Fine. Whatever. Also, @90saolchatroom‘s headcanon was also the source of inspiration that well. Heck, she was the inspiration for these fics period.

P.P.S. No beta so mucho apologies for the typos. Between lack of sleep and getting used to the new job, I’m sorry.

Tagging @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @improlificinsarcasm

Scully was free to leave the hospital after a few days of observation with her mother dogging her at each step. She couldn’t blame her, especially after what had happened. Fears of trust and betrayal. Rushing to the only place where she thought she had left. Pointing a gun at her partner. Breaking down in her mother’s arms still grasping her weapon, afraid to give up control. She remembered feeling Mulder’s sad gaze linger as her mother soothed Scully. 

The same moment had entirely had been mirrored months previously with Modell control Mulder and point a gun at her. The pain Mulder realized he couldn’t control his own actions. And then with her, she had shown just the opposite. Fear. True fear. What an odd twist of fate. In shared moments of desperation, both had almost shot their respective partners. Except for this time, something resonated deeply in Scully’s heart. A deep ache that hadn’t healed.

After many promises to call Maggie Scully in the morning and assurances that Scully would be fine in her Georgetown apartment, her mother left shortly before ten. The paranoia was still fresh in her mind, however, that was one side effect she hated from the entire experience. She could remember everything. Logically, she knew there was nothing to be afraid of but that would stop checking the locks on all of her windows and triple checking the lock on her front door. Satisfied that she was safe, Scully retreated to her bathroom to draw a long bath in an effort to relax.

It still bothered Scully that she could have let herself think that: Mulder had betrayed her and broken their deeply earned trust in one another. As she slid beneath the steaming water and bubbles, she flashed back over the past three years. Tooms trying to kill her in her bathroom. Duane Barry breaking through her living room windows that lead to abduction. Then to chasing Mulder down to Puerto Rico and staying with him even after news of Melissa taking the bullet meant for her. 

Scully flinched in memory, a twinge of regret. It should have been her instead of her sister. When Missy and her mother had needed her, she was with Mulder, chasing the Truth with a capital ‘t’, finding her name amongst endless files that should not exist.

But in the hospital room, when Scully arrived at a vacant bed, it was Mulder who wordlessly held her hand in that empty hospital room and then hugged her as she became adrift with grief. But during all this, during these past three years, Scully had come to trust him more than she would have thought possible. But now that regret and anxiety lingered over her current actions. Had she destroyed it? What they had? What was there left to go back to?

Unable to help herself, Scully climbed out to tub, draining the water, and reached for her cordless phone. It was near midnight but she knew Mulder to be up. The man hardly slept. After she dialed his number and reaching is answering machine, she decided to get dressed and drive to Old Town Alexandria, her conscience weighing heavier by the minute. The midnight drive took longer than she would have liked and parking being worse than she imagined. She turned up the radio in an effort to drown out her thoughts as she parked the car. Scully could go back home and pretend she was okay for the next time they saw each other at the office on Friday morning or she could do something.

**************

Scully found herself in front of apartment number 42 with her hand poised to knock but the door was quickly pulled open. “I saw you parking from the window,” Mulder greeted her softly. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Scully tried to look beyond her tall partner and saw a reading lamp on, heard The Cranberries playing, and no blue tv light. “Um, no.” She refocused her gaze. “Um...I called and it went straight to voicemail. I was, uh…”

“Did you? I must’ve missed it. I ran out to get some food. Are you hungry?”

He stepped away from the entryway and opened the door wider so she could come in. “So no tv tonight?” 

He lowered the volume on his stereo. “I thought I would take a break from watching tv, given recent events.”

She chuckled. “Don’t stop on account of me.” Mulder disappeared into the kitchen as Scully picked the book he had been reading up off the table. “I could tell you the ending to the book your reading, Mulder.”

“I thought I would give it a go since I remind you so much of the title character. You remember our conversation when you wrecked the boat,” Mulder laughed from the kitchen. Scully looked down at the library copy of Moby Dick fondly. “And don’t ruin it.”

“Some coincidence, Mulder.”

“I guess.” He came back out with two cans of soda and one hand and two plates balanced precariously on his other arm like a waiter. “I think I remembered. Beef and broccoli with white rice instead of noodles because you want to be healthier, sweet and sour chicken for me and one single egg roll for you.”

“Mulder, that’s our normal Chinese order. I wasn’t planning on coming over tonight.”

“Call it initiation.” He paused and shrugged. “I must have done it out of habit. Now that I have, we can’t let it go to waste can we?”

“I suppose not,” Scully conceded

“So,” Mulder began, passing her the plate, “are you feeling any better? Not gonna draw your weapon at me if the rice isn’t hot enough?”

“Mulder, please don’t. I feel bad enough as it is what happens.” She sighed, looking at the food. “I still feel ashamed.”

“Scully, you can’t let it eat you like that,” he answered. “You weren’t in your right mind. Just like when Modell controlled me. We had no control over the situation.”

They sat on the leather couch so close that they were touching. Scully moved slightly in an effort to make it less awkward. She shoveled the Chinese around on the plate. “I feel like I did, in some way. Why would it make me believe that you had betrayed me?”

“It prayed on our worst fears. I guess,” he paused in thought, “I guess my betrayal is one of yours.”

“Well, it’s true. I thought you would actually betray me, kill me...I can’t believe I let myself accuse you of those things.” She shook her head in disgust. “Mulder, how can you be okay with this? Be mad. Do something. Anything!”

“Scully,” Mulder sighed, “please don’t.” She set the plate in front of her, unable to eat. He sighed and took her hand without thinking. “Please don’t let us go down that road. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“How could you be so forgiving, Mulder? I pointed a gun at you. I’ve shot you before, don’t forget!”

“Did you forget I did this same to you not a few months ago?” And he smiled sadly. “And you shot me because I was out of my mind. You saved me, remember? Who else could perform surgery both with a pistol and scalpel?” She bit her lip and tried to pull her hand away. Mulder did not let her hand go. “Neither were you. So why do you hold yourself to a set of different standards than everyone else, Scully? I’m allowed to make mistakes but you aren’t?”

“I can’t afford to be,” she answered after a few moments. She gave up fighting. “I can’t afford to be because I have to prove just as much as the next guy.”

“Not to me, remember? You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“But I accused you of…”

“You weren't in the right state of mind or have you forgotten? Let it go, Scully. Now eat something before your dinner gets cold.”

Mulder forced the plate into her hand and took a few bites of his own meal. After a moment’s hesitation, Scully followed suit. They continued to eat in silence as The Cranberries played. How could he be so forgiving of her?

 “So what’s next?” She asked as she finished her Chinese. “For us?”

Mulder shrugged and picked up the plates. “I’m not letting you travel again tonight, that’s for sure. I know you just got out of the hospital, but it would give me peace of mind. And I don’t fancy your mother’s wrath when she learns you are out and about.”

“You’re no better than my mother. I’m fine, Mulder.”

He knew a losing battle when he saw it when it came to his partner. Her independence and stubbornness matched his own. “Well, at least let me drive you home, using your car and I will catch a cab back here.”

“Mulder, you don’t have to baby me,” she said.

“I’m not babying you. I…” Mulder sighed. “I just worry about you, Scully. And care. That’s all. I’d prefer you stay here honestly. I just want to make sure you are okay.”

For a moment, Scully let her guard down. Maybe she was still tired of everything from the previous ordeal or maybe it was more. Maybe she was just tired of more than the most recent life or death situation. “And what sleep on your couch? It isn’t necessarily that big.”

“I have a seldom-used bedroom, aka the guest room as I call it. You can stay there.”

“Mulder, I’m fine.” She stifled a yawn and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “If you want to mother hen me then come back with me to Georgetown and I will call you a cab. I just want to be in my own bed.”

“Fair enough. I think you may have wasted your gas coming out here.”

“I got a free meal out of it.” 

Scully was mentally panicking. This was not going anyway she had planned. She did not feel any better about the situation. More than anything, she needed to run. Mulder reached for her hand again, and for the second time that night, he grounded her and brought her racing thoughts back to a standstill. “Scully, just stay the night. I won’t bite and you would ease my fears.”

“Mulder, I'm fine.”

“I know you are but I’m not. I worry about you, Scully.”

After a moment’s consideration, she gave into Mulder’s request. Not for her sake of course, but for him. She did remember Missy confiding how much her abduction almost destroyed him. “Okay, Mulder,” she relented. She held up a finger conditionally. “But only for tonight.”

“You got it, Scully.”

He had that boyish smile on his face and nodded towards her. “I don’t suppose you would mind if I run out to my car to grab my overnight bag?”

“Since when did you start carrying an overnight bag with you?”

“When you started to call me at odd hours to travel halfway across the country.” Something flashed in his eyes. “It wasn’t meant as an insult,” she added hastily.

“I know, Scully,” he said softly. “I’ll go make up the bed for you.”

She collected her shoes to grab her bag out of her car before taking the elevator back up to his apartment. In the back of her mind, since she had arrived at Mulder’s apartment, the entire ordeal felt off. She thought driving over Mulder’s apartment would ease some of her own worries and doubt but this entire situation was spiraling out of control. She did not know if she felt comfortable with that at all. 

She turned the doorknob to find the door in Mulder’s living room open. She heard him moving about the rarely sed room. “I hope you don’t mind the clutter,” he called. Scully stood in the doorway and watched him. “Sheets are clean. The bathroom’s through there.” He gestured at the lit doorway opposite of him. “Can you think of anything else?”

“No, I don’t think so, Mulder. I can still go home and get out of your hair.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Scully. If it makes you feel better, I won’t say anything else about the matter.”

He adjusted the quilt on the bed and gave her one last smile. “Goodnight, Scully. And I’m glad you decided to stay.”

She bit her lip as he shut the door behind him. Scully suddenly felt trapped and at odds with the war of doubt that had been brewing in her head. Hell, that was the whole reason why she had made the trek to Alexandria to begin with. Now, here she was, a prisoner in Mulder’s rarely used bedroom. She could make a run for it and go back to Georgetown, but she was tired. Scully decided that she would likely have trouble sleeping even in her own bed and decided to spend the night and try and make the best of a crappy situation.

**************

The second time Scully woke up, she was disoriented and it took a moment for her to gain her bearings. The dimly lit alarm clock revealed it was 3:14 a.m. The unfamiliar bed felt foreign and she could not get comfortable. She tossed and turned before giving up and turning on the lamp. Boxes upon boxes surrounded her and in the dim light, she caught words like textbooks, photos, Samantha, and research. She shifted her attention and saw a dim light coming from the door that separated the bedroom and living room. She couldn’t hear the tv.

With curiosity biting at her, she got out a foreign bed and creaked the bedroom door open. Scully shivered and grabbed a spare blanket off the bed to wrap around her shoulders. She found Mulder wide awake lying on his couch, staring at some fixed point within his fish tank. The mollies swam back and forth and he sighed. “Am I keeping you up, Scully?”

“No,” she answered softly. “I just woke up. You know I have trouble sleeping in different beds sometimes.”

Mulder pushed himself up and patted the leather couch beside him invitingly. “Come sit with me.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already up, Scully.” He gave her a tired smile. “I can turn on a light or something.”

“No, this is fine.” She sat gingerly on the couch next to him. “I just have been having trouble sleeping since this entire ordeal. That’s why I tried to call earlier tonight. And why I came here.” She shrugged and Mulder tugged at the blanket fondly. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he chuckled. “I remember having the same problem after Modell.”

“What problem?”

“The lack of sleep.” He crossed his legs and rested them on the coffee table. “Well, worse than usual. I kept seeing the gun and your face. More than anything it was your eyes, Scully that always woke me up.”

“My eyes?”

He nodded and glanced at her. “It is what you mentioned yourself. Betrayal of trust. I just remember the pain in your eyes.” Mulder sighed. “I know that this...little crusade of mine has cost us both.”

Scully maneuvered the blanket around her shoulders and cast it over both of them. Mulder smiled gratefully in the dim light. She brought her knees to her chest and rested her head against her bicep. “I know,” she murmured.

“I should’ve have protected you better,” he confessed softly. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “The night on Skyline Mountain. The light. You were gone.”

“But I came back.”

“Because they decided they could bring you back to prove a point.”

“Mulder,” she whispered, “I’m not Samantha.”

“I know,” he replied. “You Scully. My Scully.” The way he repeated her surname sounded like an endearment. “But still...I can’t help but think that your sister would be alive if it wasn’t for me.”

The silence was deafening. 

“Missy said everything happens for a reason, Mulder. One Christmas, when I was still in medical school, she came home. We went to Old Town Alexandria. Not too far from here. We had a girls' night. I was drunk. She was drunk. We both decided to do palm readings from this little place on the second story off King Street next to a tobacco shop.”

He chuckled. “You, Scully? A palm reading?”

“It was her idea and I was too drunk to disprove it.” Mulder chuckled again. “What?”

“Next time we discuss one of my theories, I’ll bring the whiskey.”

She smiled and moved closer to him to the point they were almost touching. “Missy went first,” she continued, ignoring his loaded comment, “and the fortune she had, well, it was a good thing we were both drunk.”

“What was her fortune?”

“Missy was told she would die young. The fortune-teller specifically said 33 years old.”

“Scully…”

She held up a finger. “But, in the afterlife, she would do her most beneficial work.”

Mulder recalled the night he thought about taking his own life during Scully’s abduction and it was Melissa Scully that had interrupted that horrible attempt. But it was her that made him believe Scully was still there, even if she was in a coma.

“Do you think she is watching over you now?” he whispered.

“I like to think so,” Scully replied. “But what was ironic was my own fortune that strikes a chord...well, at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were both drunk that night and I haven’t actually thought of it until now.”

“What about it?” He moved so he could face her. After a moment, he took her hand and lounged backward. She fought him initially but relented after a few minutes. It was much cozier than just sitting on the couch. “Just relax.”

“This is very unprofessional.”

“Since when is anything we did professional?”

Mulder’s hand drifted to the small of her bag and she relaxed. His fingertips grazed her bare skin giving her shivers. He pulled the blanket up around them. She relaxed. “Tell me what your fortune was?”

“I would meet my other half,” she confessed after a long moment.

“Really?”

“Quit making fun of me.”

“I’m not.”

Scully nuzzled his cotton shirt and breathed deeply. The familiar scent of whatever was ‘Mulder’ wafted through her nose. As she reflected on the fortune she had been told, at the time, she thought it meant Daniel but now, after going through the past few years, and Missy’s prodding. Maybe it meant someone else.

“But yeah. False promises on soulmates.”

“I wouldn’t call it a false promise or false fortunes.” He moved a stray piece of hair out of her face. “Maybe you just haven’t met him yet.”

“Maybe.”

His fingers drifted up under her top towards the rest of her back. “It was the trust,” she whispered. He was distracting her. She couldn’t collect her thoughts. “I feel like, after everything, I can only trust you because you know. You understand. I call you first. Then my mother. Or my brothers.”

“So when you thought I betrayed you, you went to the next place?”

“My mother’s.”

Mulder rested his forehead against hers. “You know that I would never do anything to you, Scully. Right?”

“I know, Mulder.”

She licked her lips and kissed him before she could stop herself. Mulder broke away, smiled, and attacked with renewed vigor. Words were lost between them as useless couch cushions were pushed off and Scully gained leverage to straddle his waist. Wait. No. So many no’s flashed through her head but she could not stop herself. It was an urge to feel safe, to trust, and to know that someone was there for her. Mulder was that person. But she felt the rising pressure between her legs that came from Mulder.

“We shouldn’t,” she warned.

“I know,” he breathed.

“So much could go wrong.”

“I know.”

But neither one of them made an effort to stop themselves. “Scully, we can go a step further or we can stop this. I don’t want it to stop. Tell me what you want?”

She slid slowly off his hips and gathered the blanket. “I should, uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry for what just happened.”

“Scully…” he called. 

She disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door, her last barrier to keep her from losing herself control. After the most recent episode with fearing Mulder’s betrayal and being prepared to shoot him in the face. But to her utter horror, Mulder was trailing her. The door opened with a bang and she jumped. “Jesus, Mulder.”

“Please, hear me out. Is it something I did?”

“No,” she breathed. “We just can’t, Mulder. I had a moment, that is all.”

“A moment,” he repeated. “That wasn’t a moment. You can trust me, Scully. I promise I won’t betray you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She brought the blanket around her shoulders instinctively like a shield. Childhood memories of distrust flashed in her head, one of the reasons why she became so private of a person as an adult. But here he was, invading her personal space just like he did the first day they met. He cupped her cheek. Her eyes closed as he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Sometimes, I don’t know who to trust but I know, deep down, I always can trust you.”

“You can trust me now.”

Scully nodded into his hand. Mulder took that as a sign and gently leaned forward to kiss her soundly. The kiss sent electricity through every part of her body and unconsciously, she grasped both of his hands and held on tightly. Mulder deepened the kiss. At that moment, they were both lost. It was something about being able to trust someone with your entirety, body, mind, and soul, and not have to worry about any fears or repercussions. Just because you knew. You trusted them. The blanket fell from her shoulders. Mulder’s warm hands crept under her shirt and she shivered. They were so close to one another.

“Scully, please.” He sounded like he was begging. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and give him the slightest nod. He was reverent in his movements as he let his fingers trail down her back slowly as if memorizing her. She bowed her head forward and willed herself to move, to do something. Finally, she regained control of her hands and gently peeled off his tee-shirt. She saw the puckered scar on his shoulder that still looked fresh despite it being over a year old.  He smiled slightly and kissed her tenderly. The first time Scully had let herself imagine this scenario, she imagined he would be much more vigorous in his efforts, almost like one of his films. But so fair, he kept surprising her.

“I know,” she whispered.

She walked them backwards until the back of her knees met the mattress. “It’s been a while,” she whispered.

“Same here.”

Scully felt all sorts of insecurity which she thought buried long ago bubble up. As if sensing those insecurities, he kissed her brow encouragingly and she relented. She pulled off her top in one movement and he swallowed hungrily. The small bulge earlier took on a new life. 

 “I know I’m not like…”

“You’re perfect,” he breathed.

She was tired of fighting and without hesitation, she lunged forward to kiss him, and then guide him back onto the bed. Like explorers charting the unknown lands, they began their newest adventure. He left a trail of kisses like breadcrumbs down her shoulder blades and down the valley of her breasts. She shivered at the soft touches from his lips. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she murmured. 

She leaned back into the pillows taking him with her. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Scully,” he breathed. He took a moment to meet her gaze. “I want you to trust me. I want to be the only one that you trust. More than friends.”

“I remember, Mulder.” She played with his hair. “But that was then, this is now. Things have changed between us.”

“That little small town wasn’t that long ago,” he countered.

He was intent on just lazily kissing her right now. She didn’t seem to mind. “But again, neither one of us was in our right mind.”

He paused and rolled to the side so he could watch her. “The planets hadn’t aligned properly.”

“Not then anyways.”

Mulder propped his head upon his left arm so he could watch her. Despite the wall of boxes in the unused bedroom, he had left the sole window free and clear. The blinds were half open and she could see the streetlights and shadows dance across his face. “I know you said you were ashamed during your little episode but you shouldn’t be.”

“How weren’t you affected by it?”

His hand traced down her smooth abdomen in thought and played with the elastic of her pajama pants. “Hmm? Oh. I’m red-green colorblind and according to the Gunmen, it was something like that causing it.” He saw her raised eyebrow. “In one eye. A childhood accident or something?” He switched winking at her with each eye. “My right eye is fine. My left eye...not so much.” He opened both eyes and smiled. “I can still tell you’re hair is red, not green, but it isn’t as vibrant with both eyes versus just my right eye. Now you blue eyes? Those stand out. Isn’t that funny how that is a thing?”

She chuckled. “I can think of any number of reasons how you might have become color blind in one eye, though extremely rare…” She sighed at the sensation as any rational thoughts escaped her as Mulder found her mons. “Jesus, it’s been too long.”

“Good vibrations,” Mulder sang off-key, “I’m picking up good vibrations.”

Scully laughed at Mulder’s horrible rendition of The Beach Boys before she was silenced by one of his kisses. His hand moved with an independent mind of its own as he experimented with a kiss or a slight tug on her earlobe. Each new sensation caused her to gasp and move under him or buck towards him. “Mulder, enough play.”

His fingers dipped into the ‘v’ of her thighs. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

They awkwardly peeled away the remains of their clothes and with unspoken communication, they sealed their union. It was quick, awkward, but all at the same time, unforgettable. Afterward, entangled together like a sailor’s knot, beneath the lightly used blankets, they lay together. It started to rain and Mulder nuzzled her neck and whispered. “You can trust me, Scully...if nothing else, we will always have each other.”

“We’ve been some dark roads,” she whispered into the night air. Mulder coiled around her. “I fear it’s only going to get worse.”

“Mmm.” He vibrated all around her and she tried to pull him closer. “While it may, you'll always have someone to trust.”

“Where does this leave us, Mulder?” she whispered.

“We’re good,” he whispered.  “We’re fine. Nothing will change.”

“We just…”

He silenced her with another kiss and she melted against him. She was tired of being unable to trust anyone and the weight of their work felt crushing in moments like this. “We’re okay, Scully. We’re going to be okay.”

“Do you trust me?”

Scully breathed deeply and tried to memorize the moment. Mulder around her. The unused bedroom that had become their private sanctuary. The rain outside beating against the window. The streetlights and the wind moving their branches. He pulled the blankets around them.

“Yes,” Scully answered. “I trust you.”

[baratheonstarks]

the sweetest storm

ao3 link prompt: marry me now (axg week 2019) summary: five years after sailing west of westeros, arya finds herself in storm’s end, with an important question to ask.

It had been five years since she left Westeros. Five years since she slayed the Night King, since Jon was banished beyond the wall, since her brother was elected King of the Six Kingdoms and her sister crowned Queen in the North.  

She’d seen sights beyond her wildest dreams, met people unlike anyone she’d ever met before, experienced things she never even knew existed. Now, the world seemed so much bigger than before. No longer was she confined by the simplistic views of the Lords and Ladies of Westeros. No longer was she stuck playing their silly little games, or living by the standards they’d set, or fighting for her life at every turn.

It was different now, the world Arya Stark lived in. She had her own form of power, her own set of rules and her own destiny to fulfill. Her life was her own and nobody could take that from her.

Five years of discovering the world and discovering herself as a result. She remembered who she was before - before her father and her mother were taken from her, before the Night came to Winterfell, and the dragons came to King’s Landing. She knew who she was now and who she wanted to be another five years from now. She felt like she’d found her peace, finally. As far as she knew, Westeros had found peace too.

Now, she was finally on her way back home.

It was in Essos, where she was planning on sailing back to King’s Landing, when something changed. It was the plan she informed Sansa of in the last raven she’d sent just a day ago. But then she heard of a ship bound for the Stormlands. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart almost stopped in her chest when she realised how close she was to him.

The Stark vessel headed for King’s Landing as planned. Arya wasn’t on board.

Storm’s End earned its’ reputation.

When she arrived, the hail was falling harshly from the sky, the strong wind inescapable, and the thunder deafening.

Arya sought shelter at the first inn she stumbled across.

She knew she could go straight to him, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, probably never to him, but she was scared of what she would find. It had been so long since she last saw him. Would he even care to see her?

Of course he will, she thought to herself. He’d never turn you away.

More than anything, she just wanted to know that he was alright. The last time they properly spoke, he’d confessed his love for her and asked her to be his wife. She broke his heart in two that day. When they next saw each other at King’s Landing, it was at the council meeting. They didn’t get a chance to speak then and neither of them fought to initiate a conversation before they went their separate ways.

They never said goodbye.

Arya had spent many lonely nights wondering if he regretted that as much as she did.

She was tucked away in the corner of the inn, sipping on her ale, when her attention was drawn to two young women approaching the table opposite her.

“I don’t know whether I believe it,” one of the girls said as she sat. She didn’t appear much younger than Arya herself, but she was much taller with her golden hair in a braid that fell down her back. Her friend seemed a bit younger again, with her slightly darker hair styled the same way. From their almost identical attire, Arya immediately assumed they were tavern girls or maids.

“I didn’t at first - you know they say he’s refused to marry ever since he became a Lord,” the other girl responded. “This Lady of his must be a true beauty to change his mind.”

“So you think it’s true then?”

“Some of the girls were cleaning in the dining hall this morning,” the girl nodded. “Heard his advisors organising the arrival of Lord Baratheon’s betrothed.”

Arya’s heart sunk. He was… he was getting married. Gendry was getting married.

It wasn’t as if there was another Lord Baratheon for it to be. He was the only one now, the head of his house, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.

Of course he would get married; it had been five years since their last meeting, she had been a fool to think…

She didn’t know what she had thought. She didn’t know why she had come here to him instead of back to her family. She suddenly felt very, very stupid. This wasn’t some silly song Sansa would sing as a child, still an innocent so hopeful of pure true love.

This was the real world.

He was a Lord now and a Lord needed heirs. If anything, the fact it had taken this long for a betrothal should have been surprising.

She didn’t stick around for the rest of the conversation, instead heading up to her room for the night.

Even as she lay in bed hours later, she couldn’t stop thinking about what to do. Now, she really wasn’t sure if he would want to see her. He’d obviously moved on and perhaps it was selfish of her to come back into his life like this. Perhaps seeing her again would complicate his life in a way he didn’t deserve to have it complicated.

She had told him all those years ago that any Lady would be lucky to have him, so how could she possibly be angry with him for doing as she had told him to?

But there was still a part of her that needed to see him. Needed to know that he was happy and  well and safe.

Was he a good Lord? Did the people like him? Did he have the right advisors surrounding him? Had there been threats from those who may not have been too pleased about a low-born bastard being named their new Lord liege?

She’d always managed to push those thoughts away during her travels, however it was impossible to do so now she knew how near he was. Eventually, somehow, she managed to exhaust herself enough to drift off to sleep.

It was barely past sunrise the next morning when she arrived at the gates of Storm’s End. The tall tower caught her eye immediately and she found herself quietly impressed with the fortress before her. To think of Gendry ruling land like this was quite funny - she could only wish she’d been there to see his face when he himself had first seen his castle.

She saw a few guards outside the castle gates, only one of them noticing her as she slowly approached on horseback. It would have been easy for her to sneak it without anyone at all noticing, but she wanted to at least try and do this the proper way for Gendry’s sake. So, she’d decided to play nice and put his guards to the test. Her first test of how safe he was here.

“Can I help you there, girl?” One of the guards questioned as he stepped forward, eyebrow raised. His tone was as condescending as she’d expected it to be.

“I’m here to see Lord Baratheon,” she replied, her face and voice void of any emotion or hint of her intentions. The men simply laughed arrogantly.

“Lord Baratheon is busy,” another of the men practically spat at her.

“He’ll stop being busy when you tell him I’m here,” she smiled in mock politeness. It was amusing to her, how these men wouldn’t take her seriously. She could kill them all in seconds and they were talking down to her as if she was nothing.

“And who are you, hm?” The first guard spoke up again. “Lord Gendry is a very busy man. He doesn’t have time for common whores trying their luck, so try somewhere else.”

“Luckily for you, I’m feeling kind today,” Arya smiled again. “So, I’ll allow you a few hours to decide how you’ll explain this conversation to your Lord before I rip your tongue from your mouth.”

Without another word, she turned on her horse and rode away.

Of course, she managed to sneak past the very same guards just minutes later. It was no fun, far too easy. Why did nobody know how to get decent bloody guards?

Once she was within the castle grounds, she spent some time just observing the smallfolk working there. They all seemed busy, most of them looked healthy, and there didn’t seem to be any sort of fear or tension. It seemed a fairly happy place actually - and Arya knew how the Lord could affect his people. These people didn’t seem to live in fear, which meant they didn’t fear him, but they way they worked gave Arya the impression that they respected his authority.

It made Arya genuinely smile.

She noticed some children happily running around the grounds and couldn’t help but the pang in her chest as she was reminded of her own childhood. The Starks were happy like this once, in fact this place reminded her a lot of the Winterfell she grew up in.

She wondered what Winterfell was like now and her heart ached for her home. She would have to write to her sister as soon as she could.

It was a familiar voice that brought her back to where she was - Ser Davos. Arya remembered him from the Battle of Winterfell; he was a trusted advisor of Jon’s and she knew he’d helped Gendry more than a few times, so it was no surprise to see him here. He was talking to one of the stupid bloody guards.

“And this common girl, what did she look like?” Ser Davos asked. Arya knew he was a fairly clever man and he would probably remember what she looked like - even if the image of her in his head was surrounded in darkness and flames and the dead.

“Small thing, dark hair,” the guard said. “Threatened to rip out tongues.”

“Where did she go?”

“Just rode off the way she came,” the guard shrugged.

“Get back to the gates - if the girl returns, you let her in and send for me immediately. You understand?”

Arya was already halfway up the tower’s grand staircase before they’d even finished their conversation. She didn’t know where he could be, but she guessed his chambers would be a fairly good place to start at this early hour.

Nobody noticed her as she followed some servant girls, who had handfuls of bed linen and towels. It didn’t take her long to reach the Lord’s chambers, which were situated almost right at the top of the tower.

The servant girl knocked lightly on the door but got no response, so let herself in. The girl had only been in there a few minutes - lighting the fire and running a bath for her Lord, Arya assumed - when Arya heard his voice.

For the first time in five years, she heard Gendry’s voice. And it was utterly pathetic how happy it made her.

He was talking to the maid - of course he’d be the kind of Lord to make polite small talk as someone ran his bath, Arya thought. The young girl appeared at the door again a few minutes later, a massive grin on her face and a rosy blush across her cheeks.

Arya had a feeling the girl didn’t mind running her Lord’s morning baths.

Once the girl was gone, Arya stepped forward to open the door and let it shut loudly enough behind her so that he would hear it.

“Alaynna?” His voice called as he came around the corner. Arya had to hold back a smirk as he froze in his step.

He looked at her as if he’d seen a ghost. Arya let her eyes fall over him; he looked different. His hair had grown out again, like it had been when they’d first met all those years ago, but tidier now. A bit more styled and proper.

He looked cleaner too, in comparison to how his skin used to be covered in soot and dirt almost permanently. He didn’t have a shirt on and his top half was almost exactly how she remembered from their night together.

“Arya,” he eventually managed to breath her name after a few seconds of silence. “What are you...How are you here?”

“Well, your guards are complete idiots so it wasn’t difficult,” she smirked, knowing full well what he meant. Gods, she’d missed him more than she thought.

“That’s not what I meant,” Gendry shook his head, finally walking towards her as if her speaking had made him realise she was actually there. “It’s been years since we last met and now you’re standing in my chambers as if it’s only been days.”

“Is that a problem?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, of course not,” Gendry laughed. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” Arya responded. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Really?” His eyes practically lit up, the exact way they had when he’d asked her to be his wife. His eyes hadn’t changed at all and she could still read him like a book. “I’m so glad. Gods, Arya, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Arya smiled, closing the gap between them a bit more. “I wasn’t sure you would want to speak to me. After everything that happened-”

“It doesn't matter,” Gendry interrupted her, reaching for her glove-covered hands. “All that matters is that you’re here. You’re actually here."

“I’m here,” she repeated his words with a grin.

They stood so close together now and all she wanted to do was kiss him, just like she had the night of the battle. She wanted to be with him again, to hold him, taste him, feel him. She wanted him and she had forgotten just how much.

But that want was impossible to ignore now, the way he was looking at her as if this moment with her was all he’d been waiting for the past five years. She was completely lost in his eyes, as blue as the sky and as deep as the ocean.

Then the door swung open.

“Oh - forgive me, my Lord. Lady Arya.”

They pulled away from each other almost instantly as Davos entered. Gendry moved to his bed to quickly put on a shirt and Arya spun round to face Davos with a polite smile.

“Ser Davos,” Arya greeted the older man.

“Apologies for the intrusion, which I can see is all a bit unnecessary now,” Davos explained.

“How do you mean?” Gendry asked.

“Well, I was going to tell you of my suspicions that a particular Stark was sneaking around the castle grounds. You appear to already be aware of that, lad.”

He had some things to tend to throughout the morning, despite his insistence that he could cancel, he was obviously a good Lord and she convinced him to carry on with his duties.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she’d shrugged nonchalantly, but he didn’t look at all convinced.“I promise.”

She watched him all morning, going about his work as if he’d been doing it his whole life. She could barely believe this was the same man she’d travelled the Riverlands with all that time ago, but that felt like a different life now.

He was the same man though, he was still Gendry. The way he’d look at her when important men were talking to him, the way his lips quirked as he tried to stop himself from smiling when he realised she was looking back.  

“You like it here?” She asked him as he let her into his solar, letting her eyes gaze around the room. Like most of the castle, it was decked out in the Baratheon house colours, black with flashes of gold and carvings of stags.

“I’m used to it now,” he shrugged, the softest smile on his face telling her that he wasn’t always so used to it.

She turned her back to him and her eyes fell to the table, which was covered in books and scrolls. “Do I get to meet her?”

“Who?”

“Your bride,” she said, gliding her hands over one of the scrolls. It was only his name signed on the bottom of the page that made her realise it was his handwriting - tidy, and proper, and so unlike him.

“My what!?” His voice was laced with shock, and when she turned back around, the horrified look on his face only matched. Did he not want her to know he was to have a wife?

“You don’t have to pretend. I know about the betrothal,” She smiled, masking the selfish sadness she felt rising again at the thought of him with another. “I’m happy for you, truly.”

“Betrothal,” he dragged the word out, his eyebrows furrowed together in that confused frown she had missed so dearly. “What betrothal?”

“Yours.”

“Arya, I’m not betrothed.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but her breath got stuck in her throat - she knew liars. He wasn’t one. “You’re not?”

“No, absolutely not,” He let out a laugh, shaking his head as he stepped closer to her. “Why would you think that?”

“I-” she looked down, scolding herself for jumping to conclusions. “I overheard some girls talking at the inn. Guess they were mistaken.”

“I’m an unmarried Lord,” He rolled his eyes, as it was obvious it wasn’t the first time he’d had to correct someone about his marital status. “People have been talking since the day I got here.”

She frowned. He’d been a Lord for years, he’d been here for years. He must have had plenty of offers. “It’s been five years.”

“So?”

“So why haven’t you married?”

“Because the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry pissed off to the middle of nowhere.”

His words were gentle, his voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure when he’d moved so close to her, but she could feel his breath against her skin.

“Gendry, I-”

“I love you. Nothing’s changed. I love you.”

Arya didn’t hesitate then, reaching up to cup his face and pull him towards her, the way she had done all those years ago. She pressed her lips to his, her heart skipping a beat as she felt his arms snake around her waist.

If there had been anything left unsaid between them - in the Riverlands, at Winterfell, around the Dragonpit - it was said with the kiss. He was right, nothing had changed, not really.

No matter how long they had been apart, it was always the same. They always knew. She thought perhaps it was time for her to tell him so.

“I love you too. Always have.”

He leaned down and recaptured her lips again and Arya felt as though her heart was about to burst, it was beating so hard against her chest.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“I think I have some idea actually,” she bit her lip, and let her eyes flutter closed as he loving pressed his forehead against hers. It felt so right, the way he held her in his arms. “I regretted it, how we left things between us. I regretted not saying goodbye to you.”

“None of that matters now.”

“You weren’t angry with me?” She asked as her hands slid up from his arms to rest against his shoulders.

“Angry with you?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, not saying anything else for a moment but he laughed. “Thought I was meant to be the stupid one here, my Lady.”

My lady. He really was a proper Lord now, she thought.

“I’m serious, my Lord,” she mocked, letting her lips curl into a teasing smirk.

“Don’t call me that," he smirked. “I could never be angry with you,” he breathed against her neck, though Arya was far too distracted by the feeling to respond. “It was selfish of me to ask you to marry me like that.”

“It wasn’t selfish.”

Arya forced herself to pull back from his peppered kisses, giving him a tiny shove, and he moved to look at her curiously.

"It was too soon, you weren’t ready then,” Gendry shook his head, and she didn’t necessarily disagree.

“Well if the offer still stands, I’d quite like it if you would marry me now.”

He just stared at her for a moment, seemingly in shock, as if her words weren’t quite reaching his brain. She had to stop herself from laughing, biting down on her lip.

“So, will you marry me?”

She assumed his answer was a yes, judging by how quickly she found herself sat atop the table, all those important scrolls and old books pushed to the solar floor; her legs hooked around his waist as he kissed her with more love and passion than she ever thought possible.

Arya found it quite amusing to think those serving girls at the Inn had technically been right, after all; Lord Baratheon’s betrothed had arrived in Storm’s End. Though, she was his betrothed for just a week before they stood in the Godswood to become husband and wife.

Talk of the first Baratheon - and Stark, they would both point out every time - heir in years came just a month later and those rumours were to be believed. Less than a year into the marriage, as thunder and lighting shook Storm’s End, Arya and Gendry could hear nothing but the piercing cries of their first daughter. The sweetest storm there ever was.

[blakecastillo-a]

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Kennedy!

Age: 22 but will be turning 23 on Jan 24, yikes.

Pronouns: She/her

A fun fact about yourself: I am literally the most boring person I know, lmao.

IN CHARACTER

Name: Blake Castillo

Age: 34

Occupation: Member of Primordial MC and a Mechanic at Thane Auto

Time in Olympus: 26 years.

A little summary:  Now, here is the hard part... lmao.

Trigger warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of drugs and alcohol, addiction, parental abandonment (my poor child), death of a parent, and vague mentions of gang activity.

Blake was born in New Orleans, Louisiana to a pair of high school sweethearts but her father relocated back to Olympus after Blake’s mother abandoned him and their three children (Blake and her two younger brothers) for drugs.  Blake was around eight years old when she moved to Olympus and did her best to blend in which was hard to in a town where everyone knew everyone.  It was safe to say, she stuck out like a sore thumb even though her parents were native to Olympus.

Unfortunately, Blake’s father struggled with new found single fatherhood and could never find a balance between work and family but when Blake was old enough, she picked up his slack in terms of his family life because she understood that he was doing what was necessary to make ends meet even if it meant being involved with the MC.  While Blake’s father worked, she made sure her siblings were taken care of in every sense of the word: fed, bathed, and well dressed.  As a result of taking care of her siblings literally until they graduated from high school, Blake is very maternal and has an incessant need to take care of people that she loves.  It can be rather annoying especially since she doesn’t have children of her own... but she loves being Auntie B.

In high school, Blake saw her father struggle with addiction and had spent one too many nights caring for her father after he’d find himself at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey.  Blake never thought too much of it and did what she could to get him to bed and disregarded the drunken tales he’d tell of men getting their fingers or tongues cut off.  There were many nights she’d find her dad in a pile of his own vomit and found herself caring for him just as she did her siblings which was frustrating for Blake because she felt like the parent in most occasions as her father still struggled with prioritizing his family.

To help her father, Blake took on a job at her high school as a tutor as a way to make a little extra income.  It was comforting for Blake to know that she was able to save up her own money, even if it was only twenty dollars here and there.  Though, she never really got to save up a whole lot as she would have to buy milk, other groceries, or other necessities for her or her brothers.  She would often find herself giving herself the short end of the stick to make sure her brother’s needs were met as they were younger and didn’t understand why they didn’t have the other stuff kids in town had.  Blake often made sacrifices for her siblings even if it meant sacrificing herself.

In her free time, Blake could always be found spending it at the shop as she had taken an interest in mechanics opposed to cosmetology or nursing as other girls her age had wanted to pursue.  Initially, her father was apprehensive about her spending time at the shop because he feared that she would become involved in the MC somehow and he was never able to bring those fears forward.  However, his obvious disproval of her involvement at the shop, only fuelled Blake’s want to participate more which her father should have anticipated.

After graduation, Blake had been offered an apprenticeship at Thane Auto and she took it happily and the rest is practically history, lmao.  After her apprenticeship, she was offered a full-time position at the shop as she had proven herself useful and it wasn’t long after that she had become a prospective member of the club.  In terms of her involvement in the MC, Blake had exceeded expectations in almost all of her tasks as she had always gone above and beyond to ensure the job was done though she hated being on someone’s beck and call.  Her father damn near killed someone the day that she became a fully patched member of the MC after her twenty-second birthday.  However, it wasn’t many years later that Grayson had retired from the MC entirely, anyway.

After a few years, Blake is thriving as a member of the MC and all seems to be going well until her father was murdered in the midst of the war in town.  It took everything in Blake for her to not kill the president of the opposing club herself, but she knew she needed to be strategic.  The grief of losing her father damn near killed her.  She struggled with the reality of it for awhile and constantly blames herself (as she does for most things, anyway.)

MISCELLANEOUS FACTS

Blake is literally the worst type of person sometimes because she is either a cold ass bitch or loves you with her whole heart.  It literally depends on who you are.

She’s introverted AF and literally hates spending time with people unless she actually cares about you.  People are so draining and she truly prefers to spend time with her dog, Zeus, that she took in after her father died.

Blake is literally my fave character that I’ve played and I am so excited to give you guys the new and improved Blake. :~)  I have tons of headcanons and other random info in her stats page and I am hyped.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

friends, obviously – blake struggles when it comes to making friends, but when she does, she holds them very close to her heart and usually considers them like her own family.

HER BROTHERS !!!!  i would literally die for the castillo siblings.

any type of romantic relationship – friends w benefits, exes, one night stands, crushes, flings, etc.

and literally anything else!!  i am always down to plot!!!  my discord is kennedy#8549 so feel free to msg me! 

[rowanartist]

Fan fiction quotes 2019:

"with great foods, came great emotional baggage"[X]extra funny since I just saw Into the Spiderverse

"Just get together every couple of weeks, without Stark, and you guys can pass Steve around like a bong."[ch2]whaat? And chapter three is a dirty parody - worth a read for the humor of it

"he just hopes Tony has the sense God gave concussed baby sheep "[X]interesting phrase

"“Science,” Jane says, drawing his face to hers, “Does not require pants "[X]fun series of short fics

"Never something so hot; not like a flame is hot, but the strength of something bathed in summer sun. "[X]interesting view on attraction

"(He'd been sketching when he thought that through; now there's a page that has a little cartoon of himself, ducking, with the caption "the spoons are attacking!" although he'd ended up finishing his latte before he actually drew any flying spoons.) "[X]Steve upon learning about spoon theory

"Can you think of anything that symbolizes the eighties better than David Bowie’s crotch in tights? "[X]giggle out loud! "You drink once if someone whines, if Sarah says something isn’t fair, or if we get a shot of Bowie’s crotch. "[Same]comment

"“Like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin?” Natasha finished for him, understanding. Sometimes, after what they’d been through, it was hard just to be in your body. Easier to dissociate, to let whatever was going to happen happen while the part of you that was you floated far away. Natasha had been there before, and she knew James went there sometimes. "[X]ponder?

"They’re each wrapped up in their own blanket burrito, lying side by side in the dark, sharing one pillow. "[X]dual blanket burritos

"For most of his life he learned the safest option was to repress his emotional responses as much as possible, and over time he forgot how to access them when he actually needed to. "[X]relatable to a small degree

"Nothing too special but I’m pretty much Michael Bay’s wet dream "[X]to describe bakugo lol

"Most people," Midoriya continued gently, "don't need to be told they have a crush by the person that they have the crush on."[X]my boyfriend can relate to Midoriya here...

"about how if Midoriya could go this long talking without breathing in any new air, he'd probably be really good at kissing. "[same]lol

"God, fuck off. You look so freshly screwed that it hurts me. "[X]Bakugo ;p

"After all, shodō is one of Shouto’s hobbies. For Midoriya’s birthday last year, he made a beautiful poster of UA’s motto that is now displayed prominently above Midoriya’s bed. "[X]draw? If i can? "Please don’t use your All Might voice when we’re making plans to have sex. "[Same]lol

"He’d known for a while that his boyfriend internalizes, that he still struggles with a lot of insecurities and periodic depression from his years around his dad "[X]comment

"Shouto you’re worth more than anything. And you deserve happiness. I don’t care what micro-dick has said to you in the past or any shit he spews out of the mouth that’s somehow more obnoxious than Present Mic "[same]dam it Endeavor :/ "You’re a dork,” Izuku mutters in a break for breath. “Your dork,” Shouto says quietly "[Same]awww

"But if you ever forget your phone again I will use you as an advertisement balloon for a day, and that’s a promise."[X]lol

"First of all, I challenge you to find a dress that can fit that shoulders to waist ratio.” Shouto replied, matter-of-factly, pointing at Izuku’s entire body. “Secondly, you absolutely lack the manners to be a princess, you brute.” "[X]part of a series

"Another young woman that couldn’t be older than Shouto and Izuku looked up at the call. She had a round face and long, brown hair with little orange streaks every now and then collected in a braid. The red rimmed glasses she wore made her yellow eyes look bigger, behind the lenses. She lit up, when she saw them. "[X]need to try to draw

"You’d die of embarrassment— Either that, or Aizawa-sensei would kill you. And I kind of like you alive, thank you very much.” "[same]LOL

" is standing there in grey sweats and a loose Totoro hoodie he got him on one of their first dates "[X]draw

"It definitely didn’t help that Izuku stretched lazily, something akin to a cat just waking up from a nap, one of his legs stretching against the wall as the opposite arm reached towards Shouto with fingers spread wide-open. "[X]DRAW!

"What? They’re really short, all my boxers showed and it was weird. "[X]...

"Just because he isn’t as obvious about it, doesn’t mean Shouto isn’t beyond anxious too. "[X]comment

"He doesn’t treat Shouto like he is fragile, but he treats him like he is precious, and that is an important distinction"...."Something precious, however, doesn’t necessarily break easy, but it warrants the utmost care. It’s meant to be cherished. "[X]relationship advice

"One of the national dishes has no meat in it, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever tasted. I thought we were all going to die and T’Challa was going to succeed in eliminating us. Then I heard him yelling at the chef, saying none of us were used to Wakandan peppers.” "[X]https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688724/chapters/19918951#workskin

"All Tony was supposed to do was fix the alternator. Instead he built me a Jeep that tells me I have to initiate a proper launch sequence before I’m able to turn it on and drive.” "[Same]comment

"I’m sorry,” Midoriya retracts his hand, and Todoroki misses it instantly. “It’s not something I can fix, and that makes me sad. You don’t deserve to hear the things he tells you.” "[X]reread comment. Relatable to a degree personally

"But he has to admit the Docs greener side is awfully useful in a brawl; and his less menacing side has a wicked sense of humor, not to mention awfully good with a med kit. "[X]i like Bruce having a sense of humor

"That's what friends are for anyway, having your back when times are tough, and amusement for when times are peaceful. "[X]amusing

"Bucky didn't think he was being rude, but if Captain America said so, it must be true. "[Same]comment

"Steve’s always been a fan of cuddles, even if he doesn’t like to admit it, admit how much he needs that physical contact. "[X]I'm a fan of this concept

"Which in Steve-speak means that you’re feeling guilty as all hell over things you can’t control – again, mind you – and you can’t rest because you can’t shut your brain up.” "[Same]relate "There’s power in this act, Darcy thinks as she sucks and licks up and down his length. To be able to take someone apart with just her mouth and a few touches of her hands. Reduce them to tears or send them flying upwards into the heavens. And the knowledge that she wants to do this for him – for them – makes the feeling all the more potent. She doesn’t have to do this, but it’s her choice, and she wants to give this to them. "[Same]ponder more

"She may not come from it, but the closeness and the intimacy is far more important than any orgasm. "[X]remember

"He knows better, knows that Bakugou’s punches of greeting and movie nights at Yaoyorozu’s house with Mina, Hagakure, and Tsu, and that baking with Izuku are all love. That’s love, not the villain sat behind the desk. "[X]dark fic, author warns in notes. But this line is sweet

"Natasha Romanoff is a world-class spy, yes. But she’s also a potato chip thief who makes dumb jokes and uses emoticons (she had been very adamant that Steve learn the difference between emoticons and emojis), and Steve adores her for it. "[ch5]she's human

"Bucky flopped onto it rolling around like a dog on the soft surface, Natasha quietly responding by taking out her phone and videoing his nonsense. "[ch2]Mr. Kate style rug cuddle but solo

"“First of all, just because someone is good looking does not mean I should have sex with them. There are attractive serial killers Nat, do you want me to get murdered? Second of all, I don’t know him. Third of all, he’s not looking at me like I’m chicken wings, also Clint, seriously? Chicken wings?” "[same]lol, but I'm with you Bucky

"Even in just plain sweatpants, the American icon without a shirt was an image that would have anyone seeing stars and stripes, regardless of sexual orientation. "[X]:)

"Agent Bishop was hit with a biological weapon today that has a ninety-two per cent chance of ending in fatality within three days unless proper care is administered to disperse the chemical compound through natural methods. Meaning, in the case of humans, sexual release. As in, orgasming."[X]a legalese description of "sex pollen" ...

"Do the horizontal contra dance, yes," Darcy answered. "Well kind of, I mean there's only three of us and a contra dance is four to a group, but tango is just for two and I had to think of something fast. Come on, Stevie, this isn't the first time we've hooked up. "[X]lol

"He wanted something just for him again, even though he felt like a selfish asshole for even thinking it. So he would do whatever he could to chase after that feeling. Even if it was stupid. Even if it was silly. "[ch2]advice, remember "Tony must never read these, Steve thought. Bucky’s arm would never be safe. "[ch3]Steve Discovers FanFiction "Steve stayed focused on the screen, sticking out his tongue a little while he concentrated. It was unfairly adorable. "[ch4]Jarvis knows how to motivate Steve: a Bucky themed typing game "Good things would happen. Funny, clever jokes would be told. Sexy adventures were always available, no matter what was happening in the real world. "[X]relatable "There was even a page of ‘Bucky Approved Sex Words and Phrases’. The name alone never failed to make Steve smile "[ch7]lol "He wasn’t really writing this stuff for the money anyways; mostly he just wanted to see that other people liked and enjoyed what he was doing. "[Same]relatable: my redbubble rowan-artist

"Darcy’s eyes widened. “Oh god, I just imagined you naked, dusted in gold, on a satin-sheeted bed. My mind is a dangerous place.” “Hey, there’s always Halloween.” "[ch6]you being Steve

"Jane was rapidly nearing the angry-bear stage of sleep deprivation (there were seven levels on the Dr. Jane Foster Sleep Deprivation chart; angry bear was number five, between 'genius-level insane productivity' and 'sugar high five-year old'), "[X]also Dean Fury ... "Then you come to me, we'll kill a bottle of Jameson and make Thor carry our drunk asses home while we sing Les Mis horribly off-key," "[same]amusing

"This is why you should always read end-user agreements on friendships. "[X]not the fic but the start notes, lol. Also, Maria's entry is adorable, and Pepper potts!! "(“So what you’re telling me is you spent a week building a glorified roomba,” Rhodey says the first time he sees it, and Tony lets out an undignified huff and makes JUNK-E destroy and clean a grand piano.) "[Same]hahha

"And it’s better to be an asset, which at least sounds like something you value, than a glorified action figure. "[ch3]comment "Steve’s friendship is stronger than even Steve’s shield, and protects them both just as much "[Same ch9]awww

"Bucky actually is, but she knows well enough not to ask. Instead, she has started braiding flowers into Natasha's hair while the other girl of the group is busy making a flower crown for Thor. This is what it must be like to have real friends, Bucky thinks, lounging in his camping chair, trying to eat with one hand while Steve is holding his arm, drawing on the inside of his forearm with a black pen. "[ch2]flower crowns "I heard a lot of things I kind of projected on myself. It's probably stupid, but… it's always crazy to hear things that apply to oneself somehow." "It's the magic of music. Sam once told me about the Mr. Brightside effect–" "[ch4]yes "Bruce is on his own so much that he probably doesn't even notice that he has friends "[ch5]relatable, high school me

"The most beautiful thing however was the wall right next to the bed-- while all the other walls were the same off-white color, this one sported stripes of different colors down. Blue, red, green, purple, black, another shade of lighter blue. In the middle of these stripes, the Avenger signs were painted by a meticulous hand; Cap’s shield, Tony’s arc reactor, Mew Mew, and so on-- Darcy didn’t notice she was crying into Mara started wailing in solidarity "[ch1]draw?

"He knows it, like Steve and Bucky know that Tony needs praises and affection, not commands. "[ch8]...

"She thanked Sif (a habit she had started lately, thanking the Asgardian warrior instead of some non-present God, because really, if there was a god she wanted to follow, it would totally be Sif) "[X]nice Darcy "Even if she wasn’t an Avenger per say, she got to be on the team, both super and nonsuper alike. "[ch2]awww

"Elizabeth is going to make coffee happen, and in Darcy’s eyes that makes her a goddess. "[X]comment "By the end, Steve had been right in the thick of it, using a frypan as a shield and hurling pasta like nobody’s business. "[same]comment "Agent Hill’s bad ass levels are through the roof, but put her in front of a powerpoint and the result is coma-inducing. "[Ch3]lol "JARVIS, my man, I need some fat beats up in here. Help a sister out?” "[ch3]comment

"She knew now that it was almost certainly to do with her personal level of comfort and how hard both Steve and Barnes had worked to make her feel good. "[middle chapter]comment

"A video clip of the Asgardian scientist Tadeas and Neil Degrasse Tyson singing a scientific ballad of their own composition was one of the most viewed Youtube videos of all time "[X]lol "He grabbed [a muffin] and shoved it into his mouth, belatedly peeling the paper off. "[Same]haha! :D "Darcy put a box of Sour Patch Kids on top, “Those are for Heimdall.” "[X]comment "“No. Damnit, Darcy. You’re stubborn. Of course you’re stubborn! Jesus Christ, I can’t even imagine what it must like to be in the same room as the two of you.” "[X]best friend sass "But Clint is a human with a bow on a team of superheroes. "[X]Darcy's favorite avenger and why Ch4 music note "Apparently Thor is back on Earth. He showed up in New York right after we left and basically deafened all of Brooklyn with his displeased shouting about his missing Shield Sister. So now everyone knows I’m gone and my disappearance is trending on Twitter as #MissingAsgardianPrincess. How is this my life?! I can’t even with this shit.” "[X]mild spoiler? HAHAHA "Try having a conversation with one of them [asgardians]-- 4 to 1 odds it turns into some sort of ballad recitation. "[X]...

"The next day, Izuku Midoriya delivered his eleven page elaborate essay on how ordering sex toys inspired him to be more honest with himself and his boyfriend about what he wanted in life and in bed. "[X]lol

"“Fire for stop, ice for slow, and smash for go.” "[X]comment

[wellesleyunderground]

What is Self-Care to the Wellesley Community? [Follow-Up]

A few weeks ago, we raised the question about what specifically self-care is in the context of hashtags and Instagram photos of bubble baths and face masks. In response to our call for the W community at large’s thoughts, here are some of the responses we received:

What do you consider self-care?

To me self-care involves making improvements to my life that will benefit me long-term. Allowing myself to stay home (saying no to outings); exercising and having a gym membership; going to therapy and taking the time implement new strategies; working towards taking my experiences seriously - medical, romantic, appetite, mood, etc.

-Jane Park, ‘04

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Doing a face mask at home, getting takeout, working out but not pushing myself too hard, being gentle with myself, meditating, trying to get a decent amount of sleep.

-Ayesha Anwar, ‘16

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I see self-care as the steps we take to become ready to confront and destroy the systems that hurt us, rather than as a way to navigate and further support those systems. Self-care, to me, is recovering from the damage that capitalism and the gamut of structural oppressions wreaks on all of us (and some of us more than others) -- and finding ways to increase our capacity to dismantle those systems. -Anon, ‘12

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Saying NO. Specifically because I am the kind of person who instinctively says "yes" to everything. Sometimes because opportunities seem exciting, often because I feel a sense of obligation to my work, my family, my friends, etc. But I end up exhausted, overstretched, and depressed when I do this, and also I immediately let slide my health, my eating habits, and my sleep (which to me are the fundamentals of "self-care"). So as painful as it is, learning to say no is one of the biggest building blocks of "self-care" I am trying to learn.

-Katie, ‘14

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Self-care means prioritizing my healing and doing things that help me connect to myself, my loved ones, the communities I belong to, my ancestors and nature-most of these don’t require money; sitting at my altar, hiking, dancing, yoga at home, having dinner with my chosen and blood fam, game night, listening to music, going for a walk. Self care also means doing things to counter the harms of the daily capitalist, phobic and ist day. So if most of the day requires isolating myself at the conputer in order to “produce” then laughing with friends helps me counter that.

-Janet, ‘96

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Showers, sleep, doctors appointments, medical massage, books on tape, idle time, connecting with family/friends

-Raji, ‘14

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Some very essential skills I learned in therapy: keeping a schedule, getting out of my damn apartment everyday, doing things I might enjoy even if I don't want to. Going to every single therapy appointment. Asking for help when I need it.

-Anon, ‘04

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Following deadlines, waking up early and getting out of bed -- so I don't feel shitty or stressed later on.

-Anon, ‘13

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To me self care means what a person needs to do in order to have the best possible mental health. For me, I like to practice self care by running and volunteering.

-Anon, ‘09

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Taking time for rest, reflection and appreciation.

-Emma, ‘16

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To me self care is a spiritual practice. It means changing my routines so I'm caring for my spiritual self just as I care for my body and my mind. Taking time to journal and meditate, or to be outdoors is my self care.

-Liz, ‘18

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To me self-care is ensuring that everyday I workout, go for a walk during work hours, spend time with my dogs, eat well and drink lots of water. Self-care is the daily care of my body, mind, and my soul. When I can I call long distance friends and go hiking but those are not everyday tasks that I am able to do so in order to cope with everyday life I need to make sure that I am consciously taking care of myself.

-Sophia, ‘15

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For me, self-care is about carving about spaces/times where I can fully be myself. So much of my life is spent reading the room and figuring out who I need to be and when, withholding or censoring parts of myself or identity depending on who is present. Anytime, I can be 100% me, person who watches Love & Hip Hop and Basketball Wives and also owns every Hanson album 1997 to the present, feels both liberating and like self-care.

-Anon, ‘09

What do you think of the #self-care trend?

The capitalist co-opting of self care is honestly embarrassing. The idea that you can reach wellness just through buying things is harmful to us all, but especially poor folks. Plus, the #selfcare trend was at points a way that I got in the way of dealing with my own mental health. When dealing with depression, I would say that self care meant laying in bed all day and skipping responsibilities. This isn't self care, it's self destruction. Self care on a bad day looks like taking a shower and making sure I eat, not making excuses for my worst impulses.

-Liz, ‘18

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#selfcare on instagram appears a bit misleading, but it helps put self-care into our daily vernacular.

-Jane Park, ‘04

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I think it's good! While there is an element of it that promotes consumerism, I think the idea of self care being spread is a good one, and helps remind people to be mindful of their own wellbeing.

-Anon, 16

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I appreciate that self-care gives me a way to name and confront the ways that capitalism harms me, and (as above) to recognize myself beyond my capacity to produce labor. at the same time, capitalism has already weaponized self-care as complacency. I don't think there's anything wrong with recognizing and meeting your own needs, but there's a pretty sick and tidy irony in the way that capitalism hurts us, then exploits recovering from that hurt as a market, then tells us that participating in that market is enough to fix our problems. Commodified self-care is just coercive, performative femininity by another name, marketing ways for women to feel that they are failing to do and be enough. the solution is, of course, to purchase products and display conspicuous consumption. Just as we're not going to ~save the environment~ through taking shorter showers, we're not going to overturn capitalism or confront systemic issues by buying commodities. self-care has become an aesthetically-packaged set of the master's tools. speaking of Audre Lorde, I also think it's worth underlining that a revolutionary black woman did not come up with the concept of self-care as political warfare, for wealthy white women to co-opt it as a way to excuse ourselves from the fight.

-Anon, ‘12

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As a mental health provider, I’m glad that it is something that has become so much a part of our awareness that it has a hashtag. Like anything in this culture, the tendency is to commodify it, though. I try to encourage folks to think in terms of your 5 senses and choose one thing that will bring pleasure to one of those senses as a simple mindfulness exercise. Self care shouldn’t be cost prohibitive.

-Rebecca Vaurio, ‘95

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Capitalist bullshit, keep people distracted and busy and they won't protest. Like the trope of women who turn to wine instead of fighting the sexist bullshit they deal with.

-Emily, ‘12

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It's more curated lifestyle content, as you typically see on social media. It's more about conspicuous consumption, as opposed to mental health (which, fundamentally, self-care is all about). I think it reinforces stigma rather than breaks it down.

-Anon, ‘04

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I don’t like how commercial it is. Also it promotes the idea that folx are not “winning” if they can’t afford to do pricey self-care. Plus it misses the point that self care is about undoing and healing from the oppresive systems not buying into consumer trends.

-Janet, ‘96

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I like that it encouraged people to look at taking care of oneself, but don't think it's been perceived/understood in the most accurate way by everyone. It doesn't depend on spending money, and it's not about using the hashtag

-Anon, ‘12

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It's good in that it reminds us to prioritize our own needs once in a while.  But bubble baths and chocolate aren't enough to address the systemic exhaustion and overload that I think a lot of us experience in this hectic world; media images of what 'self care' looks like are too shallow, we need to let ourselves go deeper than that.

-Anon, ‘13

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I haven’t heard of it but in a time of such stress, we cannot do enough to promote personal well being.

-Abby Meltzer, ‘10

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I think 99% of it is bogus capitalism.  Its aim is to create a new market, commodifying things that people have already been doing, moralizing and monetizing them. Claiming selfishness as an excuse to engage in consumerism is fucked up.  Yes we need to care for ourselves - but vanity and selfishness are actually bad (hot take).   I think that there are many strategies that people can employ to help them deal with a variety of personal struggles, but they do not have to be commodified under the umbrella of #selfcare.  Additionally much of what we deal with in our lives is due to systemic wrongs, things that cannot be fixed by a face-mask or manicure.  Face-masks and manicures are not bad, but they're not good either. Drawing attention to personal changes feels like a neo-liberal cop-out to real systemic change.  It feels like a collective shrug emoji - well, we can't fix the economy so we might as well do this juice cleanse. 

It is very linked to creating an aesthetic and beautiful self and life.  That is bullshit - beauty is not good. Humans don't have blemish-free skin, and we shouldn't have a 7 step routine that burns our flesh to try.  Dieting framed as self-care falls in the same category. Juice cleanses, Whole30 diets, #cleaneating etc are not actually healthful, and are thinly veiled moralized body control tools.

-Anon, ‘14

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I didn’t know this was a thing. But, seriously, I’m in favor of initiatives to encourage people to do what they need to do in order to live their best lives.

-Anon, 09