#i miss my tablet...... i was churning things out on that thing....

[finneander]

maybe at some point i had a stroke and it just got rid of my love of drawing

[lvnleah]

003. | this isn’t right

word count: 2.2k

find the masterlist here!

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October 15th 2023 | 15 weeks pregnant.

Your eyes fluttered open as Leah’s alarm blared from the bedside table beside you. She lifted her arm from where it was draped over your stomach and reached over for her phone, turning the alarm off.

“Morning love,” she whispered, placing a kiss on your temple once she saw you were awake, “sorry my alarm woke you up.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, your eyes closing shut for a moment again.

As your eyes reopened, nausea hit you once again like it had done every morning for the past fifteen weeks. You tried to swallow the feeling down and let it pass but it didn’t.

You threw the duvet off of your body as quickly as you could before running into the ensuite that you and Leah had. The cool tiles of the bathroom floor met your bare feet as you stumbled in, one hand pressed against your mouth. The nausea intensified, starting to already overwhelm you.

Leah followed closely behind you and you fell in front of the toilet. You leaned over the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach until there was nothing left. Leah held your hair back, her fingers soothing against your scalp as she ran her hand up and down your back.

You thought by now the morning sickness would’ve passed like everyone said it would but it hadn’t. It was controlling your life. Your diet was plain and beige and any time you did eat or drink, you were sick soon after it.

All you felt like you were doing was constantly sleeping and being sick. You’d been to see your doctor multiple times who’d given you different anti-sickness tablets to try but none of them seemed to work.

“You’re so so well, pretty girl,” Leah encouraged you, “Can I get you anything?”

You managed a weak shake of your head, your throat raw from the repeated retching. Leah's unwavering presence was both a comfort and a burden. She needed to get ready for training, but here she was, tending to you. Guilt ate away at you.

“Le, you need to get ready,” you murmured, head resting in your hands as you finally got a break.

Leah shook her head, “No, you and our bubba our more important,” she sternly said, “Jonas knows our situation, he knows you’re struggling, if I’m late then I’ll just explain.”

Twenty minutes later, you were finally able to tear yourself away from the toilet. Leah helped you into the living room, flicking the TV on before draping the blankets over you.

Leah made you some dry toast and water, two of the few things that you could stomach. You sat on the couch together and watched some TV before Leah got ready for training.

“Right pretty girl, I’m off,” Leah smiled as she leaned down to kiss you on the sofa, “Our ultrasounds at four right?” She double-checked.

You nodded, “Yeah it is, I’m hoping I’ll be able to get something better for this morning sickness.”

“We’ll talk to the doctor,” Leah nodded. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching for yours. “Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

“I promise.” You pressed your lips to hers. “Have a good day, tell Beth I say hi.”

“I love you,” her hand dropped down to your bump as she leaned down to place a kiss on your stomach, “I love you little Gooner, be good for you Mummy.”

You smiled, “I love you too.”

Leah left, and you curled up under the blanket, praying the nausea would pass. But it clung to you like a shadow, refusing to let go. You closed your eyes and soon fell into a deep sleep, catching up on the sleep you’d missed out on last night.

A few hours later, you were woken up by Leah. Her hands ran up and down your legs as you laid on the sofa, your hair in a mess as it laid all over your face.

“Hey,” she whispered, brushing your hair back. “How are you feeling now?”

You sat up, and the room spun. “Better, I think. What time is it?”

Leah’s brow furrowed. “You sure? It’s three o’clock, pretty girl.”

You nodded, but your stomach still churned, “shit, I’ve been asleep all day. I’m so tired, the nausea is still there but I haven’t been sick since you left.”

“That’s good, love,” Leah smiled, sitting down beside you and placing your legs on her thighs, “and don’t feel bad about doing nothing, you’re growing a baby. That ain’t nothing.”

You rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, “I’ve slept the whole day away! The flat is a mess, Le.”

She rubbed your ankles calmly, “Hey, don’t stress, it’s fine. We’ve got an hour until we need to be at the doctors so why don’t you go get yourself ready and I’ll tidy.”

You sat up and nodded your head, “Okay, I love you so much.” Your emotions washed over you quickly and you felt tears building up in your eyes, “What did I do to deserve you?”

Leah laughed, using the pad of her thumb to wipe away a stray tear that had fallen, “Don’t cry, pretty girl! You’re doing amazing, I’m proud of you. I know how things are tough right now but I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t make me cry even more!” You warned, pointing your index finger at her. “Stupid fucking hormones!”

You leaned over and pecked Leah’s lips before wandering off into your bedroom and getting yourself ready. As you were doing your makeup, a wave of nausea washed over you.

Dropping everything, you dashed to the bathroom before throwing yourself down beside the toilet. You empty the little contents that your stomach contained, only getting a few minutes of peace before you were dry heaving.

“Woah, pretty girl,” Leah said as she entered the en-suite, she scooped your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, “sick again?”

You nodded and hummed, “I’m so sick of this, Le. I feel like it’s just dragging on now. It’s three thirty, I shouldn’t be sick!”

“I know love,” Leah nodded, “I think we should talk to the doctor about it and see what she says. I don’t want you to worry but there’s this thing, hyperemesis gravidarum, where your morning sickness lasts for longer than the usual pregnancy does. You’ve got all the symptoms, maybe we should mention it to the doctor?”

You groaned, sinking back against the cool bathroom tiles. “Hyper-what?” you mumbled, trying to focus through the haze of nausea.

“Hyperemesis gravidarum,” Leah repeated gently, keeping her voice steady. “It’s a severe form of morning sickness. I read about it last night.”

You closed your eyes, feeling tears prick at the corners. “But what if it’s something else? What if there’s something wrong with the baby?”

Leah’s hand rubbed up and down your back comfortingly. “I’m sure everything’s okay, but we need to talk to the doctor. It might mean we need to get you on some different medication or maybe even some IV fluids.”

You took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the rising panic. “I just want to feel normal again.”

Leah kissed the top of your head, her voice soothing. “We’ll get through this, I promise. One step at a time.”

You nodded, feeling the overwhelming discomfort. “Okay. I think I’m okay to get ready now.”

Leah helped you up slowly, and you leaned on her. After managing to get dressed and gather your things, you and Leah headed out to the doctor's appointment. The drive was filled with a mix of anxious silence and supportive hand squeezes from Leah as the radio played quietly in the background.

“Lovely parking, Leah.” Leah complemented herself as she reversed perfectly, “Well done.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “you did not just compliment yourself.”

“Hell yeah, I did!” Leah smiled before getting out of the car and admiring her parking, “Look at how perfect that was!”

You got out and joined her, “Amazing babe, well done. Maybe take a photo to remember it!”

“Don’t take the mick out of me!” Leah gasped as you wandered off into the doctors.

You walked into the doctor’s office, Leah’s hand securely around yours. The familiar antiseptic smell mixed with the soft murmur of conversations from the waiting room made you feel a little uneasy.

After a short wait, a nurse called your name, and you and Leah followed her into an examination room. Dr. Thompson, your doctor, entered soon after, her kind eyes scanning the room.

“So, how are we feeling today?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

You exchanged a glance with Leah before answering. “Not great. The nausea and vomiting have been really bad, worse than the usual morning sickness. Leah read about something called hyperemesis gravidarum.”

Dr. Thompson nodded, taking a seat and opening her notebook. “I’m glad you brought that up. Hyperemesis gravidarum can be quite challenging. We’ll discuss your symptoms and see what we can do to help.”

You described the relentless nausea, the constant trips to the bathroom, and the struggle to keep anything down. Dr. Thompson listened intently, making notes.

“Based on what you’ve told me, it does sound like you might be experiencing hyperemesis gravidarum,” she said thoughtfully. “We’ll need to run some tests to be sure, but in the meantime, I can prescribe some antiemetics and we might consider IV fluids to keep you hydrated.”

Leah’s grip on your hand tightened. “Will the baby be okay?”

Dr. Thompson smiled reassuringly. “With the right management, both you and the baby will be fine. It’s about finding what works best for you to manage the symptoms.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Thank you. Are there any foods I can avoid or that will help?”

Dr. Thompson nodded. “There are some dietary adjustments you can try. Eating small, frequent meals can help, and bland foods like crackers, plain rice, and toast are often easier to tolerate. Ginger tea or ginger chews might also ease the nausea. Avoid greasy, spicy, or acidic foods as they can make the symptoms worse.”

Leah gave you a supportive smile. “We’re already stocked up on all the bland foods.”

You chuckled, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Guess I’m going to follow your plain and beige diet!”

Dr. Thompson handed you a pamphlet. “This has more tips on managing hyperemesis. Don’t hesitate to call if your symptoms get worse or if you have trouble keeping fluids down. Are you ready to see your baby?”

You and Leah both nodded before you laid back on the examination table. You hadn’t seen your baby since your first ultrasound so you were both intrigued as to what they’d look like at 15 weeks.

Dr. Thompson dimmed the lights in the room and wheeled over the ultrasound machine. She applied a cool gel to your abdomen and began moving the transducer gently over your belly. The monitor flickered to life, revealing grainy shadows and then, suddenly, a clearer image emerged.

"There's your little one," Dr. Thompson said warmly, pointing to the screen. "And there's the heartbeat." She zoomed in, showing you the tiny flutter of movement that indicated a strong heartbeat.

Leah gasped softly, her eyes welling up with tears. "Oh wow," she whispered. "Look at them."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a surge of emotion as you watched your baby wiggle and squirm on the screen. Their little arms and legs were just beginning to form, and it was a miraculous sight.

"They look healthy," Dr. Thompson commented, tracing a measurement on the screen. "And it seems like they're quite active already, you should start to feel some movements in the next few weeks.”

You smiled at Leah, “When can we find out the gender?” Leah asked.

“I can tell now but I’m not a hundred percent sure so it may be incorrect,” Dr. Thompson said, “I’d say around twenty weeks I’ll be able to correctly tell.”

“Sounds perfect.” You nodded, “They’ve grown so much.”

You left the clinic, clutching the ultrasound image of your baby. Leah couldn’t tear her eyes away from it once again and as soon as you were home, it was hung up on your fridge with your other ultrasound picture.

“I’m so tired,” you yawned as Leah laid down on the couch, pulling you down to lay on top of her, “I feel like I could sleep for years!”

Leah laughed as you rested your head on her chest, her hand absentmindedly falling to your small bump, “Why don’t you take a nap, pretty girl. It’s been a rough day for you.”

You nodded before leaning up and kissing Leah’s jawline. Your eyelids grew heavy and Leah draped a blanket over both of you. You felt Leah’s warmth beside you, her heartbeat like a lullaby for you. As Leah gently stroked your hair, her touch soothing and comforting, you nestled closer to her.

"I love you," you whispered softly, your words barely audible in the quiet of the room.

Leah pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I love you too, pretty girl."

With her arms wrapped protectively around you, You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fall asleep. The steady rise and fall of Leah's chest beneath you, the comforting touch of her hand on your belly where your baby nestled, lulled you into a deep, restful slumber.

[kotls-unveiled]

CHAPTER 1: The Police is Not Looking for me, obviously.

Oomph! Owwww... That hurt.. Pathfinders are hard... Anyway. I shook my head and sat up, scanning my surroundings. I think I'm in... What did dad vall this place again? The... United Kingdom? Yea! The United Kingdom! My feet found ground as I shakily stood up. I had landed in some sort of alley, a big tower was nearby with a clock on it. That was, if I remember correctly, big ben? Why would they name a clock...

Shaking my head, my feet moved forward to... Somewhere. I dunno. I paused for a moment and dug through the leather messenger bag dad had given me, pulling out a device called "tablet". It had this map application that elf tablets didn't need. Elves had pathfinders, so maps weren't really needed.

I clicked the application and it opened up to an aerial view of the location I was in. The tablet nearly slipped out of my hands. There was no way I could possibly read this. It was just a mess of green, blue, dark green, dark blue, and a bunch of names of places that I didn’t even know how to pronounce.

“Lon-dan?” I mumbled to myself, trying to remember what my father told me this place was called. It was smaller than I expected. Cramped, with so many more people than I dreamed of existing, walking around as if they hated the world. I was glad I landed in an alleyway; those people looked like there ready to argue with anyone, no matter what they did.

The air was was crisp and earthy; which was strange, since everywhere, it was paved. I pulled on my jacket as a gust of wind inundated my senses. It was too cold here. Only a few minutes, and I already missed the controlled temperatures of the Lost Cities. Of home.

I stepped out into the street. As if on cue, I felt raindrops on my head. Immediately, everyone around me started saying an unintelligible, angry string of words. I had the urge to do the same. I reached into my bag, digging around past my notebook to no avail. Oh Mallowmelt, I thought to myself. I forgot to bring that thing that blocks rain… What’s it called again? Oh! An umbrella!

Regardless, I couldn’t stay in an alley the entire time. I had a mission to do: to find the girl. I reached in my bag again, this time for my notebook. It was a simple, leather bound notebook. Small enough to fit in my bag that it wouldn't take up much space, big enough to write notes and doodle on without any problems. When I opened the notebook, my hands immediately started flying across the pages *“Strange world. Many people. Big tower with a clock that has a name (Why does it need a name?)“*

After, I shoved the notebook back into my bag and sauntered forward to finally start my quest. Hmmm, where should I start? The application was pretty useless, since it was just blobs of green and blue and names I couldn't pronounce. Right! I was surrounded by other people! I could ask them! My eyes immediately scanned for a person that I could talk to. I settled for an old woman with kind eyes that didn’t seem to busy.

I sprinted up to her, flattening myself against the outside of a store, eager to keep away from the rain. The woman didn’t notice me, so I sighed and abandoned my comfortable shelter to talk to her.

She smiled at me kindly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

She bent over to acomodate my lack of height. I nodded vigorously, finally glad to have someone to help me out. “I’m looking for a girl who can read minds. She’s two years younger than me.”

The woman laughed raucously. When she looked down to see me earnest, she shook her head. “Oh, you silly lad. People can’t read minds! Where would your parents be?”

I stumbled over my words as I spoke. “They’re busy.”

I tried to be convincing, but the woman was suspicious. “Are you in some sort of trouble? Is someone following you? Young lad, you need to come with me to the police station. They’ll get you all sorted out and home with your parents.”

My stomach churned. How do you explain to a human that actually you’re an elf and reading minds is normal and elves have existed a good long while until they cut off contact and went into hiding because humans become power hungry without tipping the delicate balance that was the world? I didn’t know, so I made a much more reckless decision. I ran.

My legs were too short to actually get very far, but the old woman only sighed and shook her head defeatedly at me, which I counted as a win. But I realized that whatever I was doing right now wasn’t working. Apparently, humans didn’t react too well to threatening their idea of science. So, I had to be subtler. But, as I stared at the massive, highly populated city in front of me, a fear that I was never going to find the girl washed over me.

I brought out my notebook, ducking into another alley to avoid splattering the pages with water. In possibly the messiest handwriting possible to elf, I wrote, *“Do not mention telepathic children. Humans will laugh and you and possibly call the police.”* I smiled, satisfied with my writing. I knew no one else could read it, even if they peered over to see what I was writing. The elven runes were a secret code that only I could understand. Though, they'd probably think I was weird.. Since humans are… Humans.

I shivered and rubbed my hands together, the cold raindrops finally soaking through my supposed to be thick coat. Even in the cold weather, I was determined. Sure, this mission had become a million times harder now that I’d actually met a human, but I had a plan and a goal, and that was more than enough.

—Luna and Alex

[polutrope]

Cirdan, polar bear swim?

Obviously Cirdan needs to go for a polar bear dip! MoonLord on AO3 requested this same prompt with Celegorm, Curufin, Celebrimbor, and Finrod. Have the actual final fill* in the holiday prompts series. ~1.2k words, rated G. On AO3. Beleria Cast of Characters

Celegorm woke to the sounds of cheerful humming, followed by the squeal of a kettle and Finrod muttering, “oh no no no, you be quiet!” at the appliance.

He rolled over, propping himself up on the arm of the couch.

“Oh, good morning,” said Finrod, pouring the boiling water over a coffee cone. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Celegorm answered. Although he and Curufin hadn’t closed up the brewery until two a.m. last night, and although he’d slept cramped on his brother’s couch, he felt refreshed. He could not recall the last time he’d woken up on January 1st without an ache between his temples and a churning hollowness in his gut.

“What time is it?” he asked Finrod.

“Ten-twenty,” Curufin answered, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You better clean that pillow,” he said, pointing, “you were drooling on it.”

Celebrimbor chuckled, drawing Celegorm’s attention to where he was hunched over his tablet solving some sort of puzzle.

“Happy new year to you, too, bro,” he said to Curufin, who waved him off — but a faint smile slipped across his features before he disappeared into his bedroom.

Celegorm cleared his throat and sat upright. Spending New Year’s Eve working hadn’t been as miserable as he’d thought — it was nice to be behind the bar, absorbing and facilitating the celebratory mood without having the evening slide into a drunken blur. All the same, he had the feeling like something was missing. The day demanded some kind of ceremony to kick off the year.

“Hey,” he said to the room, “what do you guys think of going down to the beach for a polar bear dip?”

“Absolutely not,” Curufin shouted from his room at the same time Finrod exclaimed, “Oh my god, yes please!”

“What?” asked Celebrimbor. “You mean jump in the ocean? It’s cold.” The kid crinkled his nose incredulously, suggesting he more closely shared his father’s opinion than Finrod’s… but was willing to be persuaded, perhaps.

“Yeah,” Celegorm said. “I used to do it all the time back in Valin, it was a big thing. You remember Curvo, the whole family would go down to the river! It was way colder there. Water here is practically tropical.”

“Hah,” Curufin said, re-emerging and crossing to the kitchen. “Tyelpe, you want toast for breakfast?” he asked.

“I already ate,” said Celebrimbor. “Uncle Fin made eggs.”

Curufin shot a glance around the partition wall. “He did, did he.”

“Yup,” Celebrimbor said, not picking up on, or at least not acknowledging, the spiteful tone of his father’s remark.

“I’ll go dip with you!” Finrod said, sipping his coffee. “You gonna come Tyelps?”

Celebrimbor pinched his lips together thoughtfully. “I’ll come watch,” he said after a moment.

“Better bring your swimsuit just in case, kid.” Celegorm winked at him. “Curvo, you coming?”

From the kitchen, Curufin groaned. “Fine. But only to document your idiocy. I am not going in.”

*

The first day of the new year was clear and sunny. Standing ankle deep in the ocean, his bare feet gradually numbing to the cold, Círdan inhaled deeply. He began every morning of the year this way — with a purifying, invigorating plunge into the womb of the world. Beneath the sea’s dark surface, where you could hear the heartbeat of the earth, was where Círdan found his faith.

All would be well.

Today he was not alone on this short strand of beach near Beleria’s downtown core. He watched the other swimmers stripping down to their swimsuits, elbows hugged close to their chests or protruding proudly from their hips as they feigned indifference to the cold. Splashing and shouts of “I can’t believe we’re doing this!” and “Don’t be a baby!” and, of course, incoherent shrieks carried over the calm water.

Círdan set his eyes on a group of four who were currently traipsing down the sand. At their head strode two blonds, one tall and broad-shouldered, already in nothing but his swim trunks and a towel thrown over one shoulder. He appeared from his animated gestures and cocksure gait to be boasting to the other, a smaller man still bundled in his winter coat, nodding along and seemingly unbothered. A handsome German shepherd wove around them, sniffing the sand.

Behind them walked a dark-haired man and child — ten or eleven, Círdan guessed — one a half-sized copy of the other. They might have been an uncle and nephew, Círdan thought at first, noting that the man looked quite young, still bearing himself with the uncertainty of youth. But no — there was something about how the child turned and looked at him, in the way of a young person seeking approval and permission from a parent, that told Círdan they were father and son.

The father nodded and gave the boy a push towards the two blond men, whose voices rose in a chorus of excitement when they noticed him running up to join them. The three of them stopped at a log near the water and began to undress. The two who had been clothed shivered and laughed. The young father pulled out his phone to film them.

The larger blond was the first to race towards the ocean, hollering and churning up the surf. The dog bounded after him. He dove in with a crash, emerging a moment later pink with cold and shaking out his hair. The dog paddled towards him and he urged him on.

The other blond stood at the water’s edge, hands on his hips. The child still hung back, as if reconsidering.

“Come on!” Círdan could hear the man in the water shout. “It’s fine when you get used to it!”

“Yeah right!” the man holding the phone shouted back. “You’re pink as a strawberry.”

The child laughed at that and turned to smile at his father.

“If you two don’t … throw you in!” came snatches of the reply from the man in the water.

Moments later, he cut his way back towards the shore with powerful strokes. The child shrieked — “Uncle Tyelko!” — as he was scooped into the man’s arms and carried into the water. The second blond man threw a broad grin over his shoulder at the one filming before he, too, ran into the sea and dove beneath the surface.

The child was already racing back to shore, expression shifting from panic to pride as his feet found the sand. His dad pocketed his phone, coming to wrap a towel around him. They sat together on the log while the other two attempted to outdo one another’s endurance in the cold water. The dog shook off his coat and barked from the shore, its efforts to summon the two men away from their self-imposed torment ignored.

Círdan chuckled to himself, imagining what ties, what histories, might have brought these four — no, five — beings together on this particular piece of earth. He spared a prayer for them, for a year as full of joy and laughter as the moment they were sharing now.

Then he waded into the sea himself and dove, silent and serene, beneath the surface.

All would be well.

[emchante]

I think it’s time for an appreciation post because you fully deserve it !

I’ve been reading your posts for months, only been active for a week or so because I’ve seen how kind you are towards everyone and you can’t imagine the warmth it gives me (and probably anyone else) to see your reactions to our ideas and rants ☺️

you’re a terrific writer and a really nice human being from what I’ve seen until now !

this past week has seemed to be a lot for you, and I can only understand seeing it’s the end of the f1 season and everything that happened with Dan and all so that brings me to the most important question:

How are YOU? how’s it going with your studies ? Are you looking forward to Christmas ?

Would absolutely love to know more about you as a person 🤗

-🐱

oh this has me 🥹🥹🥹

okay first off, this has made me so sappy 🥹🥹 this is actually the kindest thing ever and melted my heart, thank you so much :( i’m so so happy my little reacrions, rambles and answers can make you (and hopefully others) just as happy too. it really makes my heart happy knowing so!!

and i appreciate the compliments towards me and my writing so much. i’ve been writing for years now, but delved into this fandom just in august, as you know. it was such a nervewracking thing, but i’m so happy i took the step to do so. i’ve met so many lovely people here, mutuals and anons alike, and i’m so happy to have met you all. i hope you, and everyone else knows how much i truly appreciate you all coming to talk to me. it gives me something to do in my boring little life, and it fills me with so much joy<3<3<3

i’ve been very emotional this past week, that’s very true!! it’s mainly because of daniel, but my period hitting this week did not help— my mood swings and hormones are always so haywire at this time of the month. i’m honestly just super sad about this season for many of reasons, but the main one is daniel. as someone who hyperfixates/gains special interests (thanks autism) on predominantly celebrities, i find it difficult if the person my brain decides to latch onto, goes out of the limelight— whether it be temporarily or permanently. so i think you can imagine my surprise when i enter the f1 fandom in january, and my little guy is gone in september. i could go on a long rant about how emotional it makes me and how much comfort my interests bring me— but i will spare you all lol.

as for me, i’m overall doing okay. life has been a bit up and down lately, a big part of it being forgetting to take my tablets. when i miss a day, it can send my emotions and mainly my thoughts haywire, so when i’ve been forgetting i’m usually 3-4 day intervals, i’ve been struggling a lot :’) thankfully, tumblr manages to keep me distracted most times, so while i wait to get back into routine, being on here is super helpful. apart from that, life has been good. i’ve rekindled with friends, i’ve became closer friends with people on here, i’ve gained a little community i can talk to— life at this point is very good. i wasn’t in the best of places the start of this year, so for things to be so different? i’m so happy and grateful.

studies are going okay, thankfully!! the workload is still pretty heavy, even as an art student, but i’m getting there. i’m almost done for this term, only a week or two left until winter break which is great!! can’t wait to relax afterwards, as i just churned out around 20-30 pieces within the last 2/3 weeks, varying in sizes and media’s.

and god, i am SO excited for christmas!! it’s my favourite event of the year!! i love how cozy it feels, how nostalgic it is and it makes me happy, makes me think of family and friends. my room is decorated in some christmas lights which i love, and i have a little family of winter animals that reside on my desk beside my little snoopy!! i’m so ready for christmas, and cannot wait to celebrate with everyone!!

thank you for asking about me and chatting to me, it’s a nice change of pace!! i love chatting with you all and getting to know you all, it makes posting more fun, that i know i’m not posting into an endless void. i’m always open to questions and general chatter and discussion, so please never be afraid to drop in to ask about anything!! and thank you for being so lovely, this really made me happy and made my night to know i have such caring people on the other side of the screen, who want to know about lil ol’ me :’)<3

[greaterpaladin]

ive read all the posts in the world about creating for creating's sake and it's true and i do it, but equally i cannot explain how bleak it can feel to create art and show it to the world and literally no one interacts with it. and my art is the thing i care less about- i have probably a hundred scenes written i want desperately to share but those going unrecognised would really hurt.

and it's not even like i blame anyone because i understand that interaction with art and writing on every platform including tumblr is primarily going to be fanart. (mind, i have posted fanart to the same lack of interaction or response, and fanfiction to decent to very rewarding response, not looking into what that says).

thing is, i have never fixated on a piece of media the way i fixate on my own ideas. i don't churn out art with the ferocity someone needs to be recognised- i don't know how to. i'm approving, i think, but equally i also do my art on a laptop that's nearing on a decade old and a tablet that is about fifteen years old, on a program that i should probably switch out. but then it's like, i'm not blaming my tools, so to speak.

and hell, i've seen artists twenty times better than me with like 2 notes and i can't understand why; and then you see something with 1000 but 985 of them are likes and why the fuck do people do that, seriously, that does nothing. but i would literally cut off a limb to have someone reblog my art and say something, anything, or send me an ask about it. i did have that back in the day and i hate how much i miss it- i can't even go back if i wanted to bc that community doesn't exist anymore, the people have all left and been replaced by, frankly, not the kind of people who i want questioning the themes and morality of some of my ideas- and all this is just a rant where i feel sorry for myself. art hard

[dgdraws]

Back with my full year end reflection :)

You wouldn't know by looking at this but I got snatched up in the grips of writing during the early months of this year. There was only one other choice for January! But I was determined to do Funguary again and made myself notes and a plan and actually stuck to it whilst churning out a good deal of writing. Wasn't planning on doing mARTch but it's so aligned with my art ethos I couldn't NOT do it, which turned out to be a great decision as I ended up focuing on Ziri and Talia and getting way deeper into their development.

April was back to writing a lot and making a lineup of the dnd party from the last game I played with my ttrpg group. They are a HUGE source of my inspiration for getting into all of this, in fact I took the plunge because I kept having great ideas for illustrations of scenes from our current game (vtm; #low kings) and I had to decide to either a) find someone to commission or b) learn to do it myself. And, well, my heart wanted option b more than I'd been willing to admit. Anywaaayyy, I made that lineup as a tribute to them and the two years we spent with those characters.

In May I actually started prep for Artfight, if you can believe it. Wanted at least a few Proper Refsheets, especially for the new ocs. Also this portrait at Ncuti Gatwa that still takes my breath away. June, more artfight prep, also a bunch of writing because my brain loooooves to jump tracks when I'm under pressure, even pressure I put on myself. If you've ever wondered why I seem so breezy, know it's because my nervous system is a feral cat my thinking brain is trying to tempt into a carrier. Less is more.

July!! Artfight!! Best month of the year :) I completed 20 works with 24 different ocs for 22 different artists, many of whom have become beloved mutuals! It's an honor to fight amongst you all for the love of art and ocs and our fellow artists. Also the month I started switching over to CSP anddd by the start of August I overclocked my touchscreen laptop to death and made the leap to a sturdier machine with a wacom tablet. Hello learning curve!!!

Okay okay then I caught Malevolent brainrot so hard, so so hard, and August and September were basically lost to that. Not complaining, I needed it when life/work got shaken up without warning in the fall, and having my brain hooked up to the feelings engine made dealing with the stress a little more manageable. And thus I mowed through 8 fiction horror podcasts chasing the Malevolent high and turning off the part of my brain that wanted to scream and jump off a pier and make adjusting to my new circumstances much, much harder. Thank you scifi/horror audiodrama for your service.

Thankfully I was stable enough to join in OC-tober, not as much as I would have liked, but enough to make some great new connections and again give some time to digging into Ziri and Talia's story. Actually brought an ambitious project for them to a close in November (point one on my list of accomplishments ^^). And this December I've been focused solely on two pieces for my siblings. They really are my masterpieces for the year though!

A little bummed I missed out on Huevember this year, I learned so much from it last time, but it just wasn't in the cards. After all, I got this feral cat inside me and I'm trying to teach it to relax and do things like ask for/accept help, not shutdown with the slightest demand, be niceys to itself and others... making progress, yanno, slow but sure, definitely not linear, unsure if talking about it here is just being vulnerable and real or if it's like, tmi, but. Fuck it we ball. Stay silly ;3

Alright closing statement time...

2024 was a year of transition, for me. In so many ways. I've let go of a few old anchors, taken some steps in exciting directions, weathered unexpected change surprisingly well. I hope 2025 brings more resilience, more surprises, more fellowship. I'm grateful to every person who made this year special simply by crossing my path. Your art, your vision, your imaginations sustain me, inspire me. Take my hand. Let's step into the future together.

I cant wait to see you there ❤️

All my love,

Wren

What a year 2024 has been!!!

Some accomplishments I'm proud of:

Conceived and executed a three page project for my favorite oc's :)

Completed 52 pieces for events throughout the year!!!

Converted to a drawing tablet and a new digital art program

Culminated all the learning and growth this year with two gift art pieces that I'm extremely proud of for my siblings ❤️

[takenbyheartstrings]

Reader misses her parents and nathan comforts her

TO LOVE THE GONE.

pairing: best friends to lovers!nathan drake x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death, fluff, angst, mentions of cuts and blood.

word count: 1.3k

authors note: I tried a different setting for this fic! I really wanted to show off the explorer side of Nate <3

You and Nathan were sat just at the outskirts of the jungle on the sand. Your quest had taken a wrong turn as you were looking for an ancient artifact that resided in Peru. Your plane had crashed not far from where the two of you had sat and you both managed to get out slightly unhurt. Your arm was bandaged and Nathan probably had a few broken ribs. But he was fine. So were you.

Nothing was going to stop the two of you from getting your hands on the artifact first.

Nathan's fire warmed you as the two of you sat opposite each other. The two of you were done for food but Nathan still had some purifying tablets for water. You both still had your pistols attached to your waist and you both had backpacks with climbing axe's attached and there were some bullets and other surviving things of the crash.

"You alright?" Nathan questions you, and you only feel a pang in your stomach. It was hard enough being in the jungle, a cut deep in your arm. Fighting for this artifact. To get it first. It was dangerous and unparalleled.

You shake your head, "No... but I will be." You look at the embers of fire, the colours reflect off of your skin, "Once we get our hands on the artifact, I will be."

"It's not about that right now." Nathan shakes his head, "I'm beginning to think we shouldn't have started looking."

Your head snaps up at his words, "Nathan. Don't say that. It's not what Sam would want."

He doesn't say anything, so you decide to speak.

"I miss my family too." You frown, not meeting his eyes once more. Your eyes begin to hurt because of how bright the fire is, but you're not really in the state to care, "One minute, they were there and the next they were gone."

Nathan stands up from his part of the sand and pulls you closer, "Your mom's are probably so happy right now." He whispers against your hair of head.

"Why?" You question, "They'd never wanted this life for me."

He chuckles, "They would probably be pissed, but, I think they're happy because you followed your passion. You followed your heart and your dreams y'know."

You hum, "I guess you're right." You shrug against Nathan's body, you look up meeting his eyes, "I bet Sam's probably really happy too."

"Why?" He questions, "He'd probably scold me for letting the plane crash."

You laugh, biting your lip, feeling a little better, the pain still in your heart, but Nathan's humour being a distraction for you as he held you in his arms against the grains of yellow in the heat of the orange hue.

"He always wanted us to end up stranded on an island alone together."

His lips inch closer to yours, "It's funny, i get your parents would feel the same except for the island part. They just want us to end up together."

You feel flush, "Funny joke. I'm sorry you didn't get to meet them."

He pulls you closer and you feel your stomach churn with a yearning for his touch to be everywhere that isn't your exposed arms because of the top you wear. How your body is pressing against his dirty and torn henley. How even though the two of you have not been cleaned, he still somehow smells like peppermint and oak. He's got this woodsy scent to him. You want to joke about him bringing his cologne along, but that would just be a plain lie.

Nathan was just one of those people you were completely and utterly drawn too. The two thieves, the two archeologists, searching for some sort of adventure - a perfect pair most would say.

Nathan's makes you a dry martini with a cunning smirk. One that you can't look away from. It's drawing you in. You don't want to talk to him. He seems like trouble... and yet, you can't seem to help yourself.

"One dry martini for one pretty lady." His wink isn't missed as you nervously bite on your lip.

"Thank you. Believe me, it's greatly appreciated."

"Tough week?" He questions you.

"More like a tough year." You chuckle dry.

It's only now that Nathan realises you're not wearing anything flash or fancy, even though you're in a high-class looking bar. He finally notices that your hair is a little dishevelled and you're wearing a pair of reading glasses. They frame your face perfectly, adhering to your beautiful eyes. Your sweatshirt is something he takes note of. But you've worn a nice pair of jeans and a stunning Cartier bracelet that his fingers are just so willing to take hold of.

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Nathan says softly, his eyes still on that bracelet. He feels terrible. But chances are, he'll never see you again.

You finish your cocktail and request another one, as he hands it to you, he takes off your bracelet. You don't notice it at first, until you do. Curious, you eye the bartender in front of you.

The way he handed you the drink differently to the first time, charming you with more compliments, yet leaning in close. You need to get him back.

There were a few things you learnt from your mothers. Also Archeologists, also thieves. They had taught you how to steal. But, never from the little guy. Never from the people who needed the money the most. That's why they became Archeologists. To make sure people didn't get their hands on what wasn't theirs. Storing them in safe places... not using them for their own profit. You still lived in their house. A museum full of artifacts.

They had made you swear off of that life, but it was calling to you every day. You were a damn good archeologist. But you were also a damn good thief.

You order another drink, "So, what's your name?"

He smirks, "You wanna get to know me?"

Your eyes fall on his figure, it looks like you're checking him out - flirting. But you can see the watch he's got on his wrist. Probably also stolen. But definitely a Rolex. You didn't want a Rolex. You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Your fingers expertly make your way around his wrist as he speaks undoing his watch and sliding it into the pocket of your sweats, you hum, "...and what if I am?"

"Then I would not be one to refuse." Nathan turns back to some other patrons before noticing his empty wrist. His eyes fall over you leaving the bar.

But not before you hold up his watch with a satisfying wink of your own.

"It's not your fault." Nate says as you both begin to fall on your backs. Each of your free hands rest on your guns. It's night and the two of you are vunerable.

You sigh against his chest, "I know... but sometimes... I feel like it is. That them dying inside of that fucking tomb was something I could've prevented had they just let me go with them."

Nathan's kiss is soft on your forehead and makes your heart skip a thousand beats, "I know, but had you gone in there you might not be here with me."

You take your hand off of your pistol and grab Nathan's, the brims of your eyes tickle from your tears, "Nathan..." You meet his eyes as he looks down at you. His gaze full of fire and love.

Your lips inching closer and closer together, "Can I kiss you?" He questions.

You nod carefully, and he presses his lips to yours. His lips are sweet, careful, soft. Your stomach is filled with butterflies and warmth.

"They're so happy right now." He says as the two of you pull away from the chaste kiss.

You laugh.

But it's cut short by a rustling in the trees, your hand flies to your pistol as the two of you sit up.

"We better get moving." You say.

"That we shall."

-

hi tysm for reading! my requests are open! so, if you'd like to request something from me / if you'd like to be added to my taglist!!

REQUEST HERE | ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST OR YOU CAN SEND AN ASK <3

@wanniiieeee @itszulli @raajali3 @blankspaceblankday @nostalgiaminded @horrxr @rqmanoff @graciexmarvel @emistrash @alohastitch626 @keepingitlokiii @justanotherkpopstanlol @hungrhay @chaoticevilbakugo @mxltifxnd0m @jurrasic-neverland-blog

[nxrthmizu]

Crash and Burn

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | salt, lila salt

pairing | n/a

w.c | 3.2k

author's note | hey remember that lila salt fic i promised? this isn't it but this is something i made today so yep. please accept this as an apology for yknow. me promising to write and. not doing it.

Enough was enough.

“Marinette, stop accusing Lila! She just wants to make friends!”

“Take the high road.”

“Be a good model student, Marinette.”

Enough. Was. Enough.

Marinette had the connections, the power, the choice to make Lila’s entire world crumble apart. The only thing that stood between the liar’s demise was the tiniest pinch of morality and self-restraint— And no, that self-restraint did not come in the form of Tikki. Even the kwami, who had to be an aggregation of all the good and nice things in the world, was fed up and ready to retaliate.

“What a joke.” Lila cackled, tossing a chunk of her sausage hair over her shoulder flamboyantly. The two girls were in the bathroom, with Lila smirking in front of the sink and Marinette a little distance away from her. “You can make my world crumble? What is this, a threat?”

“A promise.” Marinette corrected. “Stop telling lies. Come clean to every one. No more lying about knowing celebrities left and right, no more making excuses about not being able to take your own notes, no more making up ‘diseases’ just so your life gets a little more convenient. To be frank, I really don’t care what happens to you— But by making these empty promises to introduce my classmates to great ‘celebrities’, you’re ruining their futures. Stop.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” Lila sneered, face twisted into an ugly grin. “You going to cry in front of the class? Try and convince them that I, the one they adore— That I am lying?”

“No.” Marinette’s eyes were clear when she met Lila’s. The clouds of self-doubt that used to hover over the bright, shining star inside her soul had now dissipated, letting the bluenette emit a confident, glowing appearance as she met the liar head on. “I’m just going to keep my promise.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila headed off to a modelling shoot after school, pleased at the prospect of spending more time with Adrien. There were a couple tendrils of Marinette’s words hanging behind in her mind— Did the girl mean what she said? Did she actually… Was she actually capable of causing Lila’s downfall? … Surely not. Marinette may have once been the ‘Everyday Ladybug’, but there was no way she was that competent, there was no way the girl was capable of plotting.

The Italian hummed, brushing away thoughts of the annoying bluenette from her mind. She was going on a photoshoot— One that was going cause the rise and burst of her career, the one that was going to make her name a globally-known one. Unfortunately for Lila, her plans were going to be derailed quite soon— In fact, as soon as Gabriel Agreste’s car rolled into the parking lot of the shoot location.

“Explain this, Mlle. Rossi.” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he pointed to the tabloid article on his tablet. The Italian girl froze, the headlines seared into her eyes, big and black and bold, shooting poison right into the core of her body, paralysing her cell by cell starting from her heart. “What is the meaning of this?”

‘Adrien Agreste Reported To Be Harassed by Fellow Model’— The image under the caption was one that was clearly taken by a hidden photographer. The picture was framed with leafy foliage, which suggested that the camera was tucked up in a tree. Despite the distance, it was quite obvious in the image that Adrien was reeling away, disgusted and uncomfortable as a faceless woman in an orange blazer, back turned to the camera— Invaded his personal space.

The subtitle was the cream on the cupcake.

‘Witnesses State Gabriel Agreste Ignorant of Workplace Harassment’.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

As if things couldn’t quite go down a worser path, Lila returned home to a fuming mother and an unexpected visitor.

“Lila! You come here right this instant!” The diplomat demanded as soon as the front door opened, her daughter shrinking slightly at the tone and pitch that her mother was using. The last time her mother had been this angry— Well, it was when she got expelled from her last school. “I can’t believe what you’ve done! If it weren’t for your kind classmate, lord knows how long you would’ve continued with this!”

The Italian meekly followed her mother into the living room, eyes widening until they were as large as saucers, mouth agape at the last person she expected to see sitting on the couch.

Marinette smiled kindly, waving at the girl, looking every bit the part of the innocent, pure, kind child that every parent wanted to have. Before Lila could release a torrent of questions about what the hell Marinette Dupain-Cheng was doing in her living room, her mother charged on, beginning to take out her anger on her daughter while a literal angel sat on the sofa, cradling a box of pastries from her family’s bakery.

“Your friend here tells me that you’ve been taking absences from school to go on trips to help humanity!” Mme. Rossi exploded, waving her arms around madly. “She says she’s here to share her notes from the classes you’ve missed! You’ve never left Paris this year! What’s this I hear about flying off to the kingdom of— What was it called again, Marinette dear?”

“Achu.” Provided the bluenette helpfully, the diplomat’s expression instantly softening when she talked to the other teen in the living room.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear.” The woman turned back to her daughter, instantly snapping on a mask of anger in a matter of a fraction of a second. “What’s this about flying off to this kingdom of Achu to help homeless orphans with some random prince?”

“Um…” Lila piped up, wriggling as her brain churned at 200 lies per hour, trying to whip up a cover of some sort.

“I’m not done! Your friend here is such a helpful child that she even went as far as to ask her family doctor is there’s a cure for your… Lying disease!” Mme. Rossi practically roared, breathing flames as if she were an intimidating dragon, her daughter flinching away from the heat. “I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous! And then there’s the fact that you lied to your classmates about having tinnitus?!”

“I actually do have tinnitus!” Lila cut in forcibly, widening her eyes to make herself look more pitiful. “I was just afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Bullshit!”

“Um… Sorry to interrupt, Mme. Rossi,” Marinette piped up, the diplomat instantly cooling down as she faced the bluenette, a soft smile tracing the Italian woman’s lips. “But it’s getting rather late and my parents would love me home soon. I also have some tests to revise for tonight, so I think I should get going.”

“Oh, of course, dear.” Mme. Rossi hastily got up to help the bluenette to the door, shooting a warning glare at her daughter— ‘Sit still and don’t you dare go anywhere’, the glare read. “Feel free to come over again anytime you want, dear. I’m not home often, but you are such a sweet child. I’m sure Lila could learn a lot from you.”

“Thanks for having me as well, Mme. Rossi. I really like your home. I left the pastries on the counter— Make sure to warm the curry puffs before you eat them.” Marinette returned the smile, bowing slightly to the older woman as a sign of respect.

“Thank you for the pastries as well, Marinette. I ought to visit your parents’ bakery sometime when I’m free.” Mme. Rossi opened the door kindly for the bluenette, waving the girl off with an affectionate smile. Her parents must be so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like her, Mme. Rossi sighed internally, turning the key so she locked the door. And she seems to be a high-scoring student as well.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila seethed, having been grounded by her mother. As far as Mme. Rossi was concerned, there was a boarding school not too far away from their current residence, and by the next week, the Italian girl would be transferred over. Lila had never hated Dupain-Cheng as much as she did in that moment.

Still furious, the Italian snapped her laptop open, too angry to bother with the fact she might’ve scratched the surface. Clicking into the web browser, she started to type in the words ‘Ladyblog’— That was, before a news article caught her eye.

‘Jagged Stone Interview Reveals Underage, Obsessed Fan’.

What on Earth…

As soon as Lila clicked into the link, the news footage from the interview immediately begin to play. The date stamp on it showed that it had aired last night— Which meant that she would’ve missed it, since her mother was too busy yelling at her to turn on the television to watch Nadja Chamack’s daily news.

“As soon as I heard this rumour about some underage teenage girl claiming that she had saved my cat on an airport runway, I called Penny and asked her to book a slot for me to clarify this,” Jagged Stone said grimly, dressed in more formal attire as he sat in the comfortable, cushioned chair of the news station, with Nadja nodding equally seriously beside him. “Let me clarify— I’ve never owned a cat. I’m allergic to fur. The only pet I’ve had was Fang, and he’s an al-li-ga-tor. Not a cat. Whatever the girl is claiming, she’s obsessed and making up stories.”

“It’s also kind of bewildering that she saved it on an airport runway,” Nadja continued, shaking her head in disappointment. “That kind of thing only happens in dramas— It’s too dangerous for anyone besides authorised workers to be on airport runways.”

“Right, right!” Jagged agreed instantly. “The whole rumour is just really baffling.”

“M. Jagged, may I ask what kind of effect these rumours have on a celebrities’ career?” Nadja continued, leading the conversation on like a professional.

“Well, rumours that circulate around tend to have really bad effects, and the worse ones can hang around for a long, long time. Tabloids are often spun off from rumours, baseless and with no evidence. Those tabloids will never truly disappear, so they can leave a mark on a celebrity’s reputation as some people will believe anything— Even things they read from un-cited tabloids.”

“That is simply terrible. Have you ever had any cases of rumours created by underaged teens before this?”

“I’ve had quite a number, but none of them really got as big as this one. From what Penny has found from digging around, the teen girl managed to spread the rumour through her school and onto a once-popular blog.” Jagged explained. “Penny has also found out that the same girl has claimed that I’ve written songs for her to thank her for saving my cat! I would never write songs and dedicate them to an underaged girl— Trust me. If I could do such a thing, I’d already have written a dozen in honour of my niece— She’s my favourite designer.”

Nadja smiled at that sentence. “Then—“

The news footage cut off abruptly as Lila slammed her laptop shut, too upset to continue watching.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

On the other side of Paris, Alya was pacing around her room frantically, wondering why on earth Lila wasn’t picking up on her calls. She’d left at least four dozen messages to the Italian, who was absent from school that day. There had been a couple whispers here and there about why she was missing— Rose had suggested another impromptu trip to Achu.

Lila’s absence wasn’t the weirdest part of the day, however.

That award would go to Marinette, who walked into class with a smile, the slightest sprinkles of delight colouring her bluebell eyes when she spotted Lila’s empty seat.

Growing in frustration, Alya threw herself onto her bed, phone clattering onto the mattress with her. Within the next few minutes, however, her phone suddenly started exploding with notifications. Excited at the prospect of Lila finally texting back, Alya turned on her phone, only to be disappointed by the notifications all clamouring from the class group chat.

Kim had sent a link to the chat— Without hesitation, Alya clicked into it, frowning when she saw Nadja and Jagged appear on the screen. Throughout the interview, the colour on the Ladyblogger’s face only paled by the second until she was as white as a sheet, and if it were halloween at that time, she would’ve won the best costume award for being a ghost.

There must… There must’ve been a mistake.

A notification from Lila’s number made the blogger perk up, instantly clicking into the conversation— But her newfound hope didn’t last very long.

[Lila]

Hi, Alya. This is Lila’s mom. She’s currently grounded right now. Is there anything important you need to tell her?

[Alya]

Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to ask where she was.

[Lila]

She’s at home.

[Alya]

Okay, thanks.

Flopping onto her bed, Alya begin thinking, revising over the past few months like it was an old clip. Lila’s exciting adventures and interactions with celebrities of every kind— Lila going overseas and face timing the entire class— Lila letting her in on the secrets of being Ladybug’s friend…

… Marinette trying to tell them that Lila was lying…

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The class was awfully silent the next day. Adrien was absent as well— A social worker was looking into his home life as a result of the tabloid that arose. Things for the blonde could either get better or worse from then on, as the matters were still foggy and things hadn’t cleared up yet. The blonde maintained contact with his friends, however, calling and texting them whenever he could.

“Class, settle down.” Mlle. Bustier stepped into the class, looking very tense and uncomfortable. “Today, we will have a guest, so please be on your best behaviours, alright?”

Just as the teacher finished speaking, a tall, regal-looking Italian woman entered the classroom, a cowering principal and a meek-looking Lila in tow. The class brightened slightly at the sight of their friend— But by the way she wasn’t looking into their eyes… Things weren’t going to be good.

“Good morning. I am Mme. Rossi, Lila’s mother.” The woman begin speaking, her firm and no-nonsense tone instantly making every student sit straight, their eyes too afraid to look anywhere else but the Italian diplomat. “It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking absences from school to do charity work— And I have to clarify that this is a lie. Lila has been doing nothing but holing herself up in her room, lying to me and saying that there are no classes due to akumas.” The Italian diplomat glowered at Damocles. “What’s even more baffling is the fact that neither her homeroom nor the principal bothered to check up with me despite a student having extended periods of absence with no note or email written whatsoever.”

The class was so quiet that they could hear the quiver of Mlle. Bustier’s trembling lip.

“In addition, I’ve been kindly told that Lila has claimed to have a lying disease, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” It was impossible to miss the way the Italian diplomat was glaring daggers at both Mlle. Bustier and Damocles. “No one bothered to look it up online to see if it’s actual disorder, nor did anyone call me to confirm and ask for a doctor’s note, which is standard procedure.” Chills burst over the room, making every one shiver as the woman hissed out her words.

“Mme. Rossi, we didn’t want to disturb your busy schedule—” Damocles begin, only to be blown backwards from the sheer intensity of Mme. Rossi’s glower.

“M. Damocles, standard procedures exist for a reason. Unless you’d like to tell me about any other things you’ve been letting my daughter get away with?”

“N— No, Mme.”

The Italian diplomat continued on her war path. “My daughter also claimed to have tinnitus, am I correct?”

“Y— Yes, Mme.” Mlle. Bustier answered when it seemed like no one was going to.

“And I heard that the class seating arrangement was shifted to accommodate for that?” The homeroom teacher didn’t dare answer this time, for it seemed like whatever she said would be the incorrect answer. “And apparently, my daughter has also been faking broken wrists and requesting for her classmates to complete her work for her.” Mme. Rossi was practically breathing flames at that point, “And I am incredibly upset at the lack of action from the homeroom teacher.”

No one could breath.

“I have many concerns about the running of this schooling facility, and I expect to discuss this with M. Damocles privately after this. However, there is still something to be done.” Mme. Rossi swept her gaze towards her daughter, who found the floor incredibly interesting at that point of time. “Lila? Something you’d like to say to your classmates?”

“… I’m sorry for lying to you.” Lila mumbled resentfully.

“Louder, Lila. No one can hear you.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you!” Lila swallowed, bursting like an explosion that had finally been triggered, tears in her eyes and fists hatefully curled. “I’m sorry for lying about my diseases and injuries. I’m sorry for making you do my work,” She spat. “Sorry for causing any inconveniences.”

Mme. Rossi raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that all?”

Lila glared at her mother, who was completely unfazed. “Oh, so you want an apology from me? Fine!” She turned to the class, a maniacal glint in her eyes as she sneered at the class, a few gasps puffing from around the room as they caught their first glimpse of the liar that resided in the ‘harmless’ shell of Lila Rossi. “I’m sorry that you are all such idiots that you all fell for everything. I’m sorry that Marinette has such terrible, untrusting classmates that turned their backs on her even though she was still a goody-two shoes till the end, even though she still wanted to help you sorry peasants. I’m sorry that you were all so goddamn gullible! There! Good enough for you?”

Shock was etched into the faces of every human in the classroom— Including Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, and Mme. Rossi themselves. Clearly, that part of the apology had not been part of the plan.

“Did I miss something?” Said a sweet voice, followed by the presence of a bluenette, her hair tied in a half-up. A royal blue blazer decorated her lithe form, accompanied by a smart-looking white blouse and a black plaited skirt. Formal had never looked so good on anyone— And if someone didn't know better, they'd think that the bluenette was a young lawyer, emerging victorious from her first successful case.

“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that you’re such an annoying, little, pest.” Lila bit in the girl’s face, disdain colouring her features as she ignored her mother’s enraged gasp behind her.

The bluenette simply smiled, unaffected by the liar who had crashed and burned like the liar once wished upon her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood at her full height, the perfect image of grace and poise as she maintained her composure, quite unlike her nemesis, who thrashed under her mother’s restraining hands.

“And I’m sorry that you didn’t take my promise to heart.”

this can count as adrien redemption depending on you cause ehhh i dont like how passive he is but i havent caught up with the recent episodes, he might have become better. idk.

also where the hell is my miraculous taglist i cant find it so eep. no tagging ppl ig oops

[isthisthingeven0n]

darkest truths : s.r

returning from his time in prison, spencer joins you and the team on a mission that takes a darker turn than you could’ve imagined. (2k) 

darkest truths / brightest lies 

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Everyone was a tad nervous for Spencer to return, yet despite the team's anticipation to watch him walk through the glass doors to the bullpen, a few kept a close eye on you.

“Todays the day, huh?” Penelope nudges you, snapping you from your deep thought about the situation in hand.

Spinning in your chair, you hum in response. “Yeah, today is the big day.” You laugh lightly, but Penelope as always can see straight through you.

Tutting under her breath, she perches herself on the edge of your desk. “What is it? You didn’t have a fight or something last night?” Penelope asks, but you shake your head.

“No, we, we’re good, I promise you.” You reach out, resting your hand on her arm as you listen to a long sigh of relief from Penelope. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, but nothing I can’t handle.” You assure her, wanting to move the topic onward.

“Thank the heavens for that,” She rises to her feet happily. “I can’t have my forbidden lovers at a loss.” Penelope dramatically claims before a gasp sounds from her.

Leaning back, you catch sight of the reason for her gasp; Doctor Spencer Reid returning to the bullpen, something no one thought was a possibility for a short while.

“You’re back!” Penelope yells as she rushes over, enveloping Spencer into a tight hug.

Spencer hugs Penelope back, patting her back as he looks over at you with a small smile. You knew he was nervous about returning, he’d been up half the night talking to you over the phone as he rearranged his book collection for the twelfth time.

Quickly, everyone welcomed Spencer back with open arms. JJ was the last to greet him, having a quiet word before glancing over to you. “Don’t leave her waiting any longer, Spence.” JJ mutters to Spencer, patting his arm as she smiles your way.

Rising to your feet, Spencer hovers in front of you. “Welcome back, Doctor Reid.” You chuckle, even after all these years, some things never do change.

“It’s good to be back, Y/l/n.” He tells you, his hand reaching out for yours as he squeezes it lightly. “Thank you for last night, and staying on the phone.” Spencer mutters, feeling you squeeze his hand back for a moment.

“Anytime, Spence. You know that.” You whisper back, hugging him briefly just as Emily emerges from her office.

“I hate to say it now, but we’ve got a case.” She announces, and you all quickly file into the conference room.

Taking your seats, Spencer sits beside you as Penelope places all your files down. “Can’t say this is the warm welcome I expected to be giving to the good Doctor himself but seems serial killers refuse to take a day off.” Penelope states as she picks up her remote.

Shuffling forward in your seat, you watch closely, oblivious to Spencer glancing out of the corner of his eye. Yet, despite your lack of knowledge, Rossi could see it clearly. Spencer could barely take his eyes off of you, admiring the concentration as your brows furrow together, the determination and focus in your gaze as you listen intently to Penelope. Truth be told, Spencer missed it, more than he allows to let on.

“Today you’ll be heading to Beavercreek, Ohio. Within the past week, there have been three separate homicides. All three victims have yet to be identified and were found with eight gunshot wounds, one of which in the head, killing them.” Penelope shudders as you all look through the case files.

“Shot execution-style, efficient.” You comment, looking at the photos of the two male victims found on the outskirts of town, dumped with their ankles and wrists bound.

“Do we have any leads?” Tara asks, and Emily steps in.

“Since we have yet to identify our John and Jane Does, we’re going based on missing person reports within the past twelve months. These victims were all taken and killed recently, so our unsub isn’t keeping them long. Wheels up in thirty.” Emily explains.  “Oh, Y/n, mind if I have a word?” She asks, exiting the room as she heads to her office.

“Someones in trouble.” Luke jokes as you roll your eyes, but Spencer glances over as a look of concern crosses his expression.

“It’s fine, Spence.” You assure him. “You go ahead, I’ll be right behind.” You smile to him as he exits the conference room with JJ whilst you make your way over to Emily’s office.

“I know this is Spencer’s first day back, but I wanted to ask how you are.” Emily states as she gathers her things whilst you hover in the doorway.

Smiling softly, you nod. “I, I’m good.” You tell her, but Emily raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. “I promise, Em. I’m doing fine.”

“Okay,” She sighs, walking toward you. “but if there’s any change, you have to let me know, alright?”

“You got it, boss.” You salute to her as you both exit her office, catching up with the rest of the team as you enter the elevator.

*

Standing in the ME’s office, the sight before you made your stomach churn.

Usually, these sort of sights never had an effect on you, but something this time is different.

“Hey, you okay in there?” JJ asks, resting her hand on your arm as you snap from your daze as you stare at the bullet hole in the centre of the forehead, wishing that it was the only bullet hole on the John Doe.

“Sorry,” You mumble. “lost in thought for a second.” You clear your throat, stepping closer to the John Doe as you bend over, taking a closer look at the bruising on the wrists from the ropes. “So these victims were tied up, restrained and then shot seven times in the torso and once in the head?”

JJ walks over with the ME’s report in hand. “Actually,” JJ trails off and you stand up now, looking at her as her brows furrow. “it says seven shots were fired post mortem.”

“Why would the unsub shoot seven times after their victim was already dead? Seems like severe overkill.” You reason, and JJ hums. “Sometimes not adding up, we better let the others know.”

“Hold on,” JJ pauses, reading further into the report. “it says there’s something on each victim's mastoids.”

Turning around, you walk over and glance down. “It’s the letter T.” You tell JJ as she bends down beside you, taking a look for herself. “Could it be a signature?”

“I’m not sure.” She states. “Let me get the report for our first Jane Doe, see if there’s anything different for hers.”

As JJ exits the room, you exhale deeply and take a seat. “It’s fine, Y/n.” You tell yourself as you rest your hands against the cool metal cabinet behind you as you try to recompose yourself.

“Y/n,” JJ calls out. “we gotta talk to the team, look.”

Passing you the file, you sigh at the sight of what is on the Jane Doe’s ear.

“T & D?” You speak up, and JJ nods. “Let’s go.”

*

“Truth or Dare.” Spencer states as he stands in front of the boards. “Our unsub is playing truth or dare with our Jane and John Does. Answer truthfully, avoid being shot. Lie, and well.” He trails off as he motions to the pictures behind him.

“Any update on who our Does might be?” JJ asks as Penelope remains connected and the sound of her typing echoes through the line.

“I’ve found a potential match for our Jane Doe. Lucia Hanes, 24, went missing six months ago. On her way home from work but never arrived, reported missing since and never found.” Penelope explains.

“Garcia, can you-”

“I’ve sent you her families details to your tablets.” Penelope finishes before Emily could even ask.

Chuckling to yourself, you open your tablet, looking at the information. “Thanks, Pen.” You call out as you all split up, you and Luke heading to Lucia’s mother's house.

“So, how does it feel?” Luke asks as you pull up outside Marie Jakings house.

“How does what feel?” You question as you walk up the driveway, Luke behind you.

“Having Reid back?” He nudges you playfully. “Come on, he’s your guy, or whatever you two call it.”

Rolling your eyes, you knock on Marie’s door. “He’s my boyfriend, technically.” You comment, knowing Spencer has spent more time in jail than you have officially dating. “But my best friend first and foremost.” You add as the door opens.

“Hello?” Marie answers, crossing her arms as she looks between you and Luke.

“Ms Jakings?” Luke asks as he holds his badge out. “I’m Agent Alvez and this is Agent Y/L/N. We’re here regarding the disappearance of your daughter, Lucia Hanes.”

Marie’s hand rises as she covers her mouth, muffling a sob. “Ms Jakings, I understand this has been hard for you, but we’re only asking for a few minutes if that’s alright?” Your voice softens as Marie straightens up and stifles her sob, allowing you both inside.

Sitting in her living room, you can’t help but notice the pictures of Lucia covering the mantelpiece and as you blink, you can’t help but vision Lucia lying on that metal table, lifeless.

“Thank you for your time, Ms Jakings,” Luke speaks up as Marie sits opposite you, her hands shaking as she picks up her mug of coffee.

“Do you have kids?” She questions, looking between you both.

“I, no.” You stumble over your words as she simply nods.

“So you have no idea how hard this is? Your daughter goes to work and never comes home, and has potentially been a victim of, of a serial killer?” Marie’s voice cracks as tears fall from her eyes.

“Ms Jakings, I’m sorry, I truly am. But right now, we’re just trying to find any connection between your daughter and our unsub.” Luke explains, leaning forward whilst you swallow the vomit rising in your throat. “Was there anyone who would’ve wanted to hurt Lucia? Or had a problem with her?”

Marie hums to herself for a moment before glancing towards you. “No, she, she was a kind person. She studied hard, she was saving up to go travelling. I, I’ve never had an issue with her.” Marie states. “But, there was this incident in High School,” Marie mutters.

“An incident?” You ask. “What, what sort of incident?”

“Well, Lucia and her classmates took part in an online game. She told me it was something everyone was doing all around town.” Marie glances over to the framed photo of Lucia and herself on Lucia’s graduation. “I didn’t think much of it, none of the parents did.”

“What game was this?” Luke speaks up, now taking his phone out to record the conversation between the three of you.

“Truth or dare.” Marie tells you both, noticing the look shared between you and Luke.

“Ms Jakings, I think it’s best if we bring you into the station, for your own safety and we can continue the conversation there.” You explain as you rise to your feet, Marie complying.

“I’ll call Garcia, have her check into the history of this game in the school.” Luke comments as you walk out to the SUV with Marie.

As you all sit in the SUV, Luke pulls away whilst you sit in the back with Marie. “It’s to do with that game, isn’t it?” Marie asks, her voice shaking now as you remain silent. “I knew it would catch up with them.” She mutters.

“Ms Jakings, what do you-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Luke yells as a force collides with the car. Immediately you’re knocked to the side, slamming your head against the window as you faintly hear Luke calling your name until everything becomes black.

PART TWO

[dreamescapeswriting]

A Little Time ~ KSJ [Request]

WORD COUNT:1.8K

PAIRING: Dad!Seokjin x Mum!Reader

GENRE: Established relationship, marriage AU, pregnancy, angst, fluffy ending

Rain was hammering down outside and the thunder was making your 8-year-old son jump every time there was a loud burst of noise or a flash of lightning. A clap of thunder sounded and Jae jumped a little, clutching onto your arms as he tried to ignore the thunderstorm, normally when it was this bad you would put on a movie for him and watch it together but tonight he just wanted to go to sleep.

"Hey, it's okay." You promised as you moved closer to him on his small bed in his bedroom, he was shivering from how cold he was so you added another blanket around him trying to bring his warmth back up. Jin was supposed to have picked him up from football practise after school but never should up, instead of ringing you at work your son walked all the way home in the storm almost getting himself sick because of it. Jin was in for it when he came in, he'd been so busy lately he wasn't making time for anybody else which you understood but leaving your son was unacceptable.

"Is dad coming home?" Jae stuttered out as he began to lay down under the thick blankets and quilt covers, you nodded at him not knowing if it was the truth or not. If Jin was too late coming home he would normally stay at the dorms or in the studio instead of coming back to his home, 

"Of course, he'll be home. We have our big breakfast tomorrow," Your stomach churned at the thought of going out to breakfast, the smell of food lately made you want to vomit and nothing sounded good to you anymore but you figured you were just getting a bug and it would pass sooner or later. It was a traditional thing that you and Jin did with Jae, every 1st Saturday of the month you would go out to have breakfast in a fancy restaurant, spending time together as a family but with how busy Jin had been lately you doubted he even remembered what date it was.

"Get some sleep, you're going to need your rest." You whispered to your son, bending down to kiss his forehead softly as his eyes struggled to stay open, you could tell he was fighting the urge to sleep.

"Goodnight mum," He whispered back to you, turning onto his side as he pulled a stuffed animal closer to him, falling asleep almost instantly as you left the room trying to prepare a speech for when Jin would finally show up at him. 

It wouldn't have bothered you so much if Jin just simply told you that he was going to be late or busy but instead, he just went offline and ignored everyone. Shutting people out and turning them away whenever they tried to help him with something even when he was at home he was never really there. It was as if someone had placed him on auto-pilot at home and all he did was eat, sleep and repeat day in and day out.

As you walked down the stairs to go and clean up the living room the front door opened and Jin stood there, rain dripping off him and onto the floor as he shivered. 

"It's a little cold," He laughed loudly but you ignored him, continuing your walk towards the living room instead of making conversation with him, there was nothing you could say to him right now that wouldn't cause a large fight with one another. 

"Did you have a good day babe? I did, the boys and I went out for lunch and then we got some writing done, then we went out to dinner and you should have seen-" Jin stopped talking when you slammed the glass cabinet door where you kept photographs and baby memorabilia inside and stared at him. There was a coldness behind your eyes he couldn't read but it sent a shiver up and down his spine and he knew at that moment that he'd done something wrong.

"What did I do?" He stuttered out, taking off his shoes and making his way over to you with his arms out at the ready, he was going to hug and make it up to you no matter what it took but you pushed his arms away. 

"It's what you didn't do, did you forget someone today?" Your arms folded across your chest as you looked at him, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you waited for the penny to drop in his head.

"O-Oh shit-"

"Yeah, our son walked home and was so cold I thought he was going to turn into a human ice sculpture!" You yelled out, finally losing your temper as Jin seemed to have time to go to lunch and dinner with the boys but neglected in picking up your child from football or coming home in time for dinner with the two of you. 

"God, it's like you don't even care about us...You're never here anymore," You scoffed, picking up the toys that were on the floor, cleaning up the place would help you get less angry at him for never being there anymore. 

"I am too," Jin argued following you into the kitchen as you began loading the washing machine with dirty clothes, 

"Really? Because I go to bed with a cold space and wake up to an empty space," You couldn't bring yourself to look at him so you focused on the washing that you were trying to do instead of what you really wanted to say to him. 

"Because I'm busy, you knew this was my life when we got married, don't act so shocked now," He grumbled trying to walk away but you stood up, kicking the door to the washing machine closed. 

"I knew what I was getting into, I knew you were busy but lately Jin...It's like you don't even want to be around your own son! He's been waiting for you every night hoping you would read to him," Jin began to walk away not being able to handle the truth so you followed him, no longer shouting since you didn't want to wake Jae up. 

"He's been asking me when you were going to come home, when you were going to make time for him," You whispered as you both walked into your bedroom, the door shutting behind you as you stared at Jin who was calmly stripping out of his clothes and ignoring you as if he couldn't hear you. You continued to rant but he walked into the en-suite bathroom turned on the shower and ignored you once again.

"Do you even know what tomorrow is?" It was a simple question that seemed to make your heart drop when you saw a look of confusion flash across Jin's face. He'd just came out of the bathroom when you decided to remind him about the next morning's breakfast date, 

"Breakfast with me and your son...Like we do once a month," You shook your head, he was unbelievable. 

"It's not-" You threw the calendar onto the bed beside him to prove what date it was and his face dropped as he appeared pale, biting down on his lip he glanced up at you. 

"Babe I've been busy, I forgot...It was one thing," He tried to justify it but you shook your head, 

"It's not one thing...You forgot to pick our son up, you forgot our anniversary last month and you've been pushing us away from a while Jin." Your voice cracked as you tried not to cry in front of him, failing miserably as tears streamed down your cheeks that you weren't able to contain any more, you felt overemotional and just wanted this to end. 

"So I missed a couple of things, it's because I'm busy." The same excuse was used over and over again and you shook your head at him, rubbing your temples as a piercing headache began to build up.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," You grumbled at him, picking up one of the blankets from the bed and heading for the guest bedroom where most of Jae's baby items were stored. 

"Babe come to bed-"

"I am in bed," You mumbled to him, shutting the door as you climbed onto the guest bed for the night, not being able to be around Jin for much longer, you just needed some space.

Things didn't improve much after the fight with Jin, he was still busy with work and pushing you away but he came home more often to spend time with his son while you got on with everything you had to do around the house and at work. Throwing yourself into a busy schedule, so busy that you'd neglected to notice that you were late for your period by two months and that you were sick almost every other day and highly emotional.

"Mum?" You rolled over on the bed to see Jae walking into the room with a cup of water for you, he'd been looking after you all day since you were too sick to move. 

"Hey pumpkin, what's wrong?" You questioned, sitting up as he climbed onto the bed after putting the glass of water down onto the table beside your bed. 

"I called Daddy, you don't look good." You smiled weakly at the thought of Jin coming home early to you being sick but you knew he would want to know if you were ill. 

"What did he say?" You questioned but right before Jae could answer the door burst open to your bedroom, Jin was standing there panting and sweating heavily. 

"Uncle Jimin and Taehyung are downstairs," He spoke to Jae who dashed off the bed and sprinted down the stairs while Jin poured the contents of a black back onto the bed in front of you. 

"Babe what's-" You were going to ask what everything was when you saw the pregnancy test kit sitting there with water, multivitamins and different tablets. 

"You're late...You're sick...You're barely getting out of bed which is what happened when you were pregnant with Jae," All of a sudden your overprotective and kind husband was right in front of you, getting ready to take a pregnancy test with you as though the fight between you didn't happen and you were perfectly fine. 

"I-I can't have another baby, we're not ready...You're too busy," You panicked as you slid off the bed, taking the tests into the bathroom as Jin followed you, 

"We will make time, I'll start taking days off...You can take some off too...I promise I will never leave you behind." He whispered as he kissed your forehead, watching you as you began to get ready to take the test. 

"Pregnant." You breathed out looking at the stick which was blinking a happy face at both you and Jin, you were happy but worried all at the same time but Jin was reassuring you that things were going to be different, he was going to be there more no matter what he had to do to do it.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @taestannie @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @innersooya​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​

[skruffie]

I remember telling Alice at some point after I had started the government job, pre-COVID, that I felt like I was a complete stranger to myself. After I finally quit I didn’t really know how else to describe how I felt about it except that I felt poisoned. There was a long moment where I was afraid that I was just never going to draw again because I did not feel the emotional attachment to art that I used to have for my entire life.

We’re coming up on a year since I quit the government job and it’s been a very slow process of breathing life back into my creativity again. I’ve channeled my creativity into other things, like developing a spiritual practice and doing some writing in private (stuff that likely is never going to see the light of day if I’m being honest--just character vignettes). Feeling poisoned and also trying to finish the SAW anthology submission was difficult but I think finally getting that done and then seeing my name in print and Being Published In A Fucking Book was a good step. It’s been a slow defrosting process.

I finally reached this step of just doing something like my painting on burnout, leading myself not by a desire to churn out a finished product but just to put something to a canvas, and it started to thaw more. Playing DnD brought out the other side to my creativity that I’ve been missing: roleplay. RP always is like a wellspring of inspiration for me, and being able to develop a brand new character and try to get into their head has been strangely challenging.

I think finally the ice is fully cracking now. The last dream I had before I woke up this morning was that I was getting ready to draw but all I lacked was an eraser. I was finding everything else I needed, as well as everything I DIDN’T need at all, but a goddamn pencil eraser. After I woke up, drawing was hovering in the back of my head the whole day until finally I got my tablet plugged in. I tried working on my 10 year Fallen London piece (which I have redrawn already and begun on the lines) but it wasn’t quite scratching that itch. It’s like trying to work out a muscle you haven’t moved for a while. I think DnD is fully enveloping my brain because I had much better luck drawing Sasha. I’ve been working on a character playlist for them, and I’ve done little doodles here and there. I want to draw the whole party. The emotional attachment and inspiration isn’t fading as quickly as it used to. I don’t think I’m fully recovered from the burnout by any stretch of the imagination but each day I’m starting to feel more and more like myself again.

[emcon-imagines]

Finally Okay, Pt. 3

part 1, part 2

gif

characters: Wanda Maximoff x reader words: 2194 summary: reader and Wanda are close friends, one joining the Avengers and one going rogue after Sokovia. But after one terrible night, Wanda is forced to face the reality of your mission for revenge. a/n: ahhh fingers crossed please don’t let this flop lmao I worked real hard on this part and you can catch up if you haven’t read parts 1 + 2 yet!!! but anyways surprise and merry christmas!!!!! it’s like a little additional gift to you guys and the conclusion to this trilogy. tagging: @moonlit-imagines​ and @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​, who both expressed interest in a part 3!

You sat with Wanda for a long time in containment, saying nothing, but her familiar presence calming you down enough that your stomach started to churn less and less, and the shaky, panicky feel began to dissipate into exhaustion.

“You still with me?” Wanda murmured as you laid into her, head resting against her shoulder. She squeezed your hand again, trying to get a read on where your mind was. “You seem better.”

You lifted your head up as the door opened, simultaneous with the mechanical beeping of it unlocking. Wanda seemed to sense you tense and she didn’t let go of your hand, even as you clenched hers harder.

“Y/N?” one of the SHIELD agents in the doorway asked. “We’re going to have you stop by the lab to get checked out one more time, and then someplace more permanent for you to sleep tonight.”

You looked at Wanda, uncertainty etched across your face, as you mouthed the word “lab?” with the fear unmistakable in your eyes.

“They’re gentle,” Wanda said. “They’re not going to hurt you. Probably just make sure...” she nodded at the bandage on your stomach. “Well, you really tore yourself up there,” she said, almost ruefully.

You considered her words and finally nodded, sliding off the cot and wincing at the muted stab in your side, still hugging the shawl over your shoulders, as if it could offer some sort of protection from the unknown. When you got to the door, the SHIELD agent waved over to Wanda, who had gotten up as well, but was still standing on the other side of the room.

“Coulson asked if you could stay with y/n,” the agent said. “It’s better than...” he trailed off, glancing down at you and then back at Wanda, who was glaring at him.

“Sedating them again?” Wanda asked. She stepped over. “That’s what HYDRA used to do. You scared them, working on them while they were asleep.”

“That wasn’t my call,” the agent said, quietly. “But... I’ll let Coulson know.”

“It won’t happen again,” Wanda said, and you weren’t sure if she was talking to you or the agent.

The journey to the lab was quick, though you couldn’t ignore the stares from other agents, and the way many of them stopped walking completely to let the five of you, the main agent accompanied by two others, pass. You tried to look braver than you felt, standing up straight, putting up the same mask of anger that had helped you survive for so many years with HYDRA, your eyes dark and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a hard slash.

It was clear that Wanda wasn’t comfortable around the agents either, perhaps she would have preferred Natasha or Clint be the liaison instead, but if she did feel that way, she didn’t say anything about it. She’s here, isn’t she? Not her hero friends. Wanda came.

There were only two people in the lab when you arrived, but it seemed busy enough for ten times that amount of people. Not like any of the labs you had seen before. It was well-kept, though lived-in, a mug of tea here, a sweatshirt tossed over a chair there. Work covered the lab benches; you could only begin to guess what SHIELD was working on.

“Hi,” the new woman said, and gestured to a medical station set up behind a glass partition. “You can sit right over there, I’m just finishing something up first.” The others agents stopped at the door, not going any further, and you stepped into the lab cautiously, as if breathing could break something.

“Fitz, where did you put my notes when you moved them?” the woman asked. “Was two tables not enough space?”

“I put them over there,” Fitz said, pointing to where you had been directed to sit.

“Oh.”

You said down on the edge of the cot just as the woman, who you realized must have fixed you up earlier, joined you, finding her notes. “Sorry about that,” she said. “We’re all over the place today, Fitz is trying to build a... well... never mind, that’s a whole other thing.” She pulled a tool off a shelf, something that looked like a gun and you flinched. “Mind if I take your temperature again?” she asked. “I want to see if it’s gone down at all.”

You relaxed and nodded, picking at the paper unrolled on the cot underneath you. She held the thermometer up to your head and read it when it beeped.

“Hmm. You’re still a bit warm. How are you feeling?”

“Y/N runs warm,” Wanda interrupted, and you looked over to see her leaning against one of the lab benches, her arms crossed. “Something to do with their powers. It’s why they’re always cold, too.”

“So, you radiate it all out?” Simmons asked. “And so it’s like you leave none for yourself?” She smiled a little as she put the thermometer away and scribbled a note down. “That’s neat.” She glanced back at you. “I mean, it’s just interesting is all.”

“Thanks.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow at Wanda, they talk?, before picking up her notes and writing something else down. “When was the last time you had a doctor’s appointment?” she asked. “I mean, a real one.”

“Um...” you glanced down at your feet. “Never?” You had managed to avoid doctor’s all these years, even the time you had the flu, or the time you nearly cut your own finger off trying to cook. Glancing at the nasty scar on your thumb, you began to think that maybe that was a mistake. From the other side of the room, you heard Wanda’s exasperated sigh.

“Right, okay,” Simmons said. “Well, I’m going to try to make this as painless as possible, as long as... well... you’re going to have to promise to help me out here. Have you eaten yet? I can send Fitz to the cafeteria to get you something to eat while we talk. What do you like?”

“I’m a bit occupied at the moment,” Fitz said from the other side of the lab, earning a hard look from Simmons, under which he finally relented. “Sorry, what do they like?”

Simmons kept her promise, which surprised you, and you kept yours, which maybe surprised you even more. She checked on your wounds and changed your bandages, tried to find out if anything else hurt that she had missed when you arrived, and only gave you one shot-- a flu shot-- of all things. And you finally ate, picking at the layers of the sandwich Fitz brought, eating one ingredient at a time, swatting Wanda’s hand away when she tried to steal one of the apple slices Fitz brought as well.

“You’re not going to share?” she asked, nudging you and giggling.

“No.”

“Brat,” she said, but she was still smiling. “After all this, you won’t even share one?” You saw red magic light up around her fingers and you clutched the bag of cut apples closer to you, knowing what she would try. “What if I--”

“Nope.”

Simmons’ exam ended shortly after that, and the SHIELD agents returned to escort you to your next destination, which the scientists had referred to holding. It was a stark white room, the walls made up of the same material your original containment cell had been made of, but this room was warmly lit, with a real bed, couches, a desk, and even a television screen. There were clean clothes laid out on the bed, grey sweatpants, socks, and a grey SHIELD sweatshirt, heavier than you expected. Warmer. There was a bathroom, too, already stocked with tiny soaps and shampoos, and you finally got to scrub the blood and soot off of yourself, turning the water as hot as possible and watching the grit run down the drain.

“Better?” Wanda asked, when you got out of the shower, examining the sweatshirt you had changed into. “You look better.”

You nodded, flopping onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling, just as the door opened again, and Wanda stood up from the couch to see who was there. “Hey, how are you?” Phil Coulson asked, stepping through the doorway, tablet in hand. You looked at Wanda, who gestured back to Coulson.

“He asked you, not me.”

“Tired,” you said. “Um... but all right.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” Phil said sitting down on the couch. He turned to Wanda. “Natasha dropped some things off for you if you want to grab them and clean up as well.”

You realized that Wanda still had blood, your blood, under her fingernails, and that she had been there the entire time you had. Did she not even leave this place once? When Wanda did step out, you sat on the edge of the bed, eying Coulson, still trying to figure him out. Is this someone I can trust?

“This won’t be too long,” he said. “I’m going to let you rest. I just wanted to talk with you a little more. Is that all right?” When you didn’t respond, he went ahead, glancing down at something on the tablet. “So, Simmons mentioned something in her notes here about your temperature readings. I’m assuming that has something to do with your abilities? Can you walk me though that?”

You paused, staring at your hands. “Um. They said I run hot. I heat things up with my hands... usually.... but sometimes without even touching them.”

“Is that how the fire started?” he asked softly, and you nodded.

“I didn’t want that to happen,” you said. “No one was supposed to be there.”

“I know you didn’t,” Coulson said, and you blinked, surprised. “Powers can be unpredictable. Scary, if you’re new to them, or if you were never trained.”

“I was trained to burn things,” you said. You remembered the trials, trial after trial, leaving you colder and weaker each time, unable to stop shivering, curled up against the glass wall of your cell, where a heat from the lab had warmed the glass enough for you to sleep.

“Wanda told me,” Coulson said. “I’m sorry for what you went through there.” He took another read through of his notes. “We’re going to bring someone else in to do a psych eval tomorrow morning. He’s one of the best, even helped our own. I think you’ll benefit from talking to him. And we’ll go from there. How does that sound?”

You nodded once, and Coulson stood back up, adjusting his suit as he looked around the room. “Get some rest for tonight. Simmons might be by a few times to check on you, and if you need anything in the meantime--” he pointed at a button under the screen “--call button is right there.” Just as he prepared to leave, the door unlocked and opened again, Wanda stepping back in, having cleaned up and changed herself, dropping a duffle bag by the door. She and Coulson nodded at each other as he left, the lights in the room dimming in his wake, something more suitable for sleeping.

You leaned back on the bed, sinking into the pillows, though the constant undercurrent of anxiety prevented you from relaxing completely. “Can you stay?” you mumbled, not daring to ask the question any louder, afraid of the answer. “Just until I fall asleep.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up, too,” Wanda said, crossing the room and sitting down on the other side of the bed. “Okay?” You had pulled her shawl over yourself again and she reached over to tuck it tighter around you, you pulling away for a moment.

Oh.

It was love. All of it, all around you, you realized, was love. Something you had been certain you didn’t deserve, especially in places when there was so little to go around, acts of kindness existing only in mercy. 

Wanda paused, waiting for you, as your heart beat a little faster. It was too much, sometimes, overwhelming to think about, these people with so much love to give, relentless until you were ready to accept that perhaps you deserved some peace after all. Not despite your past, but because of it.

Finally, you laid back down on the bed, leaning into her, tucking yourself in close to her warmth, sighing as a burden was lifted off of you. “There you are,” Wanda said, her hand rubbing your back as she pulled you in closer, and this time, you didn’t feel like you had to escape. It was okay. You were okay.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes, already drifting off.

Wanda planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled in response, the first smile she had seen in a long time from you. It was safe to sleep here. There was enough warmth to go around. Your head rested in the crook between her arm and her chest as she laid back as well, her hoping maybe you finally would sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll be right here in the morning,” she repeated again, the last thing you heard before you finally rested, finally okay at last.

[alfredosauce50]

Island Escapade [Ex-con 2p! America x reader x Denmark] 10

Island Escapade - 10 - Swimming pools Content warning: A little soft-core. Dubious consent. Mature audiences only. Wordcount: 2, 510 The reader is referred to as she/her.

A/N: I was inspired by Kendrick Lamar’s “Swimming pools”

Allen could drink like it was his job. But throughout the whole of his career, he’d never felt this nauseous. The skidding of the boat, the churn in his stomach, watching you and Mathias—it was all too much. Thanks to the dim light on board, he could see everything as clear as day during the night. You were half-awake on the Dane’s lap, fighting to stay in control of your body with seven shots’ worth of alcohol in your system. Poor thing.

Mathias was talking about taking you back to his house, even. Something about tablets. Medicine. If anything, going to his place was the last thing you wanted. Allen knew that much.

And yet, he couldn’t find the motivation to do anything about it. Not while his head was filled with hot water, leaving his mind in a haze. Alcohol was his weakness, and he never dropped the habit of making bad decisions under the influence.

Just as he thought, he was still the same.

When the boat finally docked at the wharf, he never lifted a finger when Mathias carried you off. He wasn’t walking in the direction of your house either. And yet, all Allen did was stand on the beach, mulling over the heat that overwhelmed his body. A searing headache was pounding in his skull, but it didn’t quite hurt like the ache in his chest.

He was giving up again. After trying so hard to get his shit together, he was giving up again.

It wasn’t the first time, so why was he crying?

He’d seen the look in your eyes. The way you stared at him like he was the best thing in the world. It was hard to believe, but deep down, he knew Mathias wasn’t the only one. The only difference was that you trusted him. You trusted Allen. You wanted to be with him. But he was letting you go, letting you down all over again, letting Mathias become the one thing he wanted to be. Yours.

I think that I'm feelin' the vibe, I see the love in her eyes I see the feelin', the freedom is granted As soon as the damage of vodka arrive

After giving you some water, bread, and crackers, you eventually felt well enough to move on your own. A shower was in order after a night out in the club, but he wasn't entertaining the idea of any drunken accidents. So while you adjusted the temperature, he joined you in the cubicle. "You should've brought me with you if you were gonna drink," Mathias began, coiling two arms around your stomach.

"He doesn't know how much you can handle."

Pressing flush against you only made your heart pound like a drum. You could feel everything, from his wide chest and toned stomach to the space between his legs. This wasn't happening. "... I know my own limits, Mat. So maybe I wanted to get hammered," You murmured, tugging at his arms for him to let go. "It's fine. Allen's fine. He was looking after me before you came."

He released you, albeit reluctantly. "You're upset." His wet hair was slicked back, and steady streams of water were trailing down his face as he watched your frustrated expression. "Why?"

"Why?" You turned to him, in awe at how dense he was. It was becoming hard to believe it was just cluelessness. Entitlement sounded more like it. "Because I'm in the shower with you, that's why!" Mathias's eyes widened as you rose your voice. You shot an arm out to gesture at his crotch, but you really weren't much of an exception.

"I can see your dick, Mat. Don't you see anything wrong with this picture?"

He stared down at himself. When he glanced back up, it became clear to you he didn't—his stare on you was hard and unwilling. "... I'm just... I'm just trying to look after you. Can't I do that?" He responded, earning a huff from you. His deep frown spoke of untold regret, and you were sick of seeing it.

"You keep saying that, but you're pushing it. You could've stayed outside." Turning around to get some body wash into your hand, you lathered it all over your body. "Why are you so weird? Why am I so weird? Why am I even—" When you spun back around, your cheeks were flushed with a deep red. Whether it was from the alcohol or something else, Mathias didn't know.

"—why am I letting you do this?"

Deep creases formed between his brows. He knew the exact answer to that question, but he was too afraid to say it. "... I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You know everything. You just pretend that you don't." Digging a finger into his chest, you watched distress run across his face. If you were sober, you wouldn't even be saying these things. But the truth was finally stepping into the light, raw and unfiltered in the form of a drunken ramble. And you were onto him. "You knew what you were doing. Living with me, sleeping with me, it was all part of your little game to get me back. Well, guess what?"

Mathias's chest was rising and falling intensely at this point. While he breathed heavily, his heart was racing, threatening to burst out of his ribs. He could already predict what you were about to say, and yet, he was insanely nervous to hear it. "... What?"

"It’s working." Blood flushed his face until he was even redder than you—excitement, euphoria, love-sickness, it was all there. His eyes lit up with the most happiness you’ve seen him with, which spoke volumes when he was already a cheerful person. Was this it? Were you finally accepting him again? Not yet. "But if you think you won me over, you’ve jumped the gun. I’m not staying here. I need to get home."

You turned your back on him to keep washing. A deep pout scrunched up his face while he was left standing in a cloud of steam, heating up faster than the water from the showerhead. It’s working, you’d said. Lingering on the words made him burn up with lust so potent, he was left reeling. This was the part where he’d convince you to give in. Like every time you both got into a disagreement, he’d kiss you drunk and take you to bed to make up.

It was the oldest trick in the book, and it worked every time. No wonder he was getting hard. His body sensed what was happening. His mind just picked up on it a little later. And he’d act on it once you were both done with the shower.

"I'll walk you back," Mathias murmured by the doorway. He watched you gather the last of your things in the living room. He'd spent so long at your place, he couldn't bear the sight of you walking out on him. Not again. It became apparent that sleeping alone in his own house wasn't an option. "But can I ask for one last thing?"

There was a subtle droop to his eyes. His hands were by his side, clenched in fists, and his frown was growing deeper at every second you failed to say anything—your breath hitched as you forced the word out. "... Yeah?" One last things never ended well with someone like Mathias. You knew that better than anyone. But the thought never occurred to your intoxicated self.

You just wanted him to stop looking at you like this.

"Can I kiss you?" He took your wrist and held it gently. "Just once."

It wasn't desire he sparked. Rather, it was a harrowing kind of bittersweetness that made your chest tighten up. And so, a deafening silence followed, but only because it was so loud. He had you again, and you weren't pushing him away. Instead, you did something free from your better judgment, which was long burned away by alcohol.

You reached up to his face, giving him the green light. So he leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. The force was enough to move your head back, so when he pulled away, your lips seemed to follow his. Led on by nothing but an ache that never went away, one kiss turned into two, then three, then a heated lip-lock you couldn't remove yourself from. And Mathias knew.

It was a sin in itself to keep going, but the thought merely got his blood pumping. Without parting, he picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. There on his bed, he pulled you onto his lap. Then, he kissed you until you'd have the taste of his mouth ingrained in your brain. You were breathless the whole time. And yet, the heavy panting never broke the thick ropes of saliva draping between your tongues.

He never let you get the air you desperately needed, let alone the chance to think. Mathias wanted you to lose yourself. He wanted you to feel the same hot yearning that had him in a chokehold.

He wanted you to make the same mistakes as you did in the past.

When you wrapped your arms around his strong neck, it became clear he was getting what he wanted. History was about to be repeated, and it would start with the growing tent in his boxers. If you didn't snap out of it soon, he'd have you naked in his bed and under him before you knew it. And to make up for all the time lost, a year's worth of it, a few hours of love-making wouldn't suffice.

"Just stay the night, eskler," Mathias whispered in your ear. "I miss you."

Having sex with him all night sounded more like it.

Breaking up with him would be history, and you'd be back to square one. Back to letting him do what he wanted, so long as he could put his hands on you. The man was a sex fiend. A bigger one than what Allen could ever be. And you were so foolish to not see it sooner.

Back in your house, Allen was raiding the fridge for anything to offset against the wooziness. He hated tearing through carbs so carelessly like this, but at least he wouldn't feel like complete shit. After scoffing down a packet of biscuits, he sauntered to his room and tried to take his mind off things. He never thought he'd willingly open Animal Crossing on your switch, but the cutesiness of it all made it worth a shot.

However, the longer he kept playing, the worse he felt.

Some island living he was going through. If only reality made it a permanent escape like the game did. In a month's time, he'd be out of here. The R and R he indulged in was about to end on a depressing note, and he'd be back to being a bum. What about you? Probably seeing Mathias again. He practically gagged at the thought. The sick churning in his stomach returned like an old friend, and it never stopped as he lingered on the earlier events that night.

But when he remembered what you told him, he had to hold himself back from vomiting on the spot.

Mathias loves kids, you'd said. And you know how selfish he can get.

That's why I had to break things off.

Allen paled with terror. What had he done? But the real concern wasn't that—it was what he failed to do.

He turned off the switch and scrambled outside. With nothing but a torch in hand, he ventured out into the dark, searching for a house he'd never been to. He didn't know what it looked like, but that never slowed him down. In fact, he ran even faster, tearing through the island like a madman to get to you. This was his last chance at redemption, his last chance at being there for you when you needed it. All the self-doubt had been staved off by this bout of desperation.

He could sulk later. For now, he needed to get to you.

Half an hour went by in fearful anticipation. He went house by house until he arrived at his destination. Without bothering to knock, he broke into one of the windows with his expert lock-picking skills. Allen didn't have time to worry about morals. Not that he stopped to second-guess anything. Not with you in mind. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

Rapid footsteps thudded down the hall, slowing Mathias' movements to a stop. He had his fingers looped around the side of your underwear, and he would've pulled it down if it weren't for what he heard. Before he could register the intruder as the resident ex-con, his damnation and your salvation, they slammed the door open. In stormed Allen, looking like Hell.

When he saw Mathias hovering over you, half-dressed and dazed beyond compare, something inside him snapped. Marching over to rip the man off of you, he threw a hard punch right across his jaw. "That's for beating me up for no reason," He hissed, pulling his hand back for another strong strike. "And that's—" Allen pounded his fist into his face, again and again, driven by a fury so hot, he had to wonder if he'd gone insane. "—for taking advantage of her!"

He was never satisfied until Mathias fell unconscious. Giving his hand a brief shake to get rid of the blood, he cast a softened gaze over your limp form. Immediately, his anger simmered down. You were okay. A little fucked up, but okay. Scooping you up under your back and legs, he carried you all the way home. While he did, you never let go of his neck. After tonight's fiasco, you've never been so calm. The smell of his cologne, the clinking of his dog tags, you couldn't mistake it for anyone else. And it was all you needed for a good night's sleep.

Needless to say, Mathias wasn't allowed in your house anymore. After getting beat up like that, he learned his lesson and backed off. Allen did call himself a criminal, and Mathias got exactly what he paid for.

It was just you and Allen again, spending every minute of the day together for the rest of his sentence. There wasn't much time left, so you needed to make the most of what you had. And on one of those days, you hoped to remind him how much you adored him. But at each passing day running across the burning hot sand and wading through warm waters, the adoration seemed to swell into something greater.

He was abnormal in every way he could be—from his personality to his looks—but the idea of being more than friends gave you hope that you could be normal too. That you could finally move on. Allen didn't have many aspirations in life, but he was beginning to look more and more like the answer to your future.

[devnicolee]

The Chosen Ones (One-Shot): Surprise

A/N: Very random but it is what my brain wanted this weekend lol Also I miss Asha lol my fav! Anyway, enjoy!

***

Asha’s hand covered her mouth as she yawned, resting her book on her chest and letting her head gently fall on the mountain of propped up pillows behind her.

“You have been really tried lately, firecracker?” M’Baku called as he walked out of their bathroom to grab his pajamas at the foot of the bed. Asha nodded lightly, her mind immediately distracted, like a child with a new toy, as her eyes gazed over his naked body. They had only known each other for a year, been married for six months, and his body still managed to take her breath away.

She licked her lips lightly, desire flaring in her eyes as she ignored his question and her previous exhaustion. M’Baku chuckled as he examined her.

“Are you listening, my queen?”

She smiled slyly, pulling herself from under the covers, sexily crawling down to the edge of the bed where he stood.

“I’m sorry, my king. You are just my greatest distraction,” she whispered seductively in his ear, her teeth gently nipping at his earlobe, his favorite spot.

He groaned before pulling back slightly. “There will time for that later. But I am serious, Asha. Are you sure you are feeling ok?” His eyes examined her closely as if he could see a mysterious illness in her eyes. “You usually only sleep one or two nights a week and you have been dead to the world every night this week.”

“Maybe it is our late night activities,” she winked before kissing his neck. She ended her ministrations as she heard the frustrated sigh leave his lips. Her usual methods of distraction weren’t going to work this time.

He wasn’t wrong, she usually didn’t need sleep or, at least, not much of it. She spent most nights working with T’Challa, who was usually awake as well, or reading in the library. That is, after she and M’Baku finished their intimate time, which was continuing at a rate of every single night. She was wondering when he would slow down, get tired of her… but that day had yet to come. She was convinced that was part of it, M’Baku had more energy than her. He pushed her body to its limits most nights, even after a long day, he was rarely satisfied with lazy sex.

“Sorry, I know you are serious. I don’t know what it is though… nothing has changed. I-I’ve just felt really tired the last week or two. I’m sure it will pass, don’t worry about it, ok?” She kissed his cheek.

Silence fell over them as his eyes examined her. “If it continues, you will go see a healer, yes?”

“Of course. Now…” her small hands drifted to the hem of the shirt he just pulled onto his broad frame and started to pull it back off. “Why don’t you come over here and give me a reason to be exhausted?”

M’Baku climbed over her as their lips connected and their tongues explored each other.

“Anything you wish, my queen.”

****

Asha groaned slightly as she turned over in bed, the sheets sliding off of her naked body. M’Baku instinctively turned with her, his arm resting over her hip as she tried to get comfortable again. She glanced at the clock, surprised at how long she had slept. But she wasn’t surprised, M’Baku seemed determined to send her to new heights that evening, pouring all his love and energy into worshipping her body. She reached for her beads, finding a missed message from T’Challa.

She groaned as she remembered she was supposed to be going over some treaties with him that evening. She quietly got out of bed to get her tablet to call him. However, as she stood up, she felt her stomach start to turn, an unfortunate wave of nausea overtaking her. She sat back on the bed, her mind running through the food she ate throughout the day to determine what caused this.

After a few minutes, she felt that unmistakable churn that forced her to leap off the bed. She barely made it to the toilet before she began throwing up. It felt as if her body was trying to rid itself of every substance she ever consumed. After a few minutes of heaving, she rested her head on her arms, exhaustion settling in, as she waited for the next wave she knew would be coming.

When the second wave hit, she didn’t even notice M’Baku behind her, holding her braids back for her. When she was done, she felt a damp rag wiping her forehead. She offered him a small smile and a feeble ‘thank you.’

“What happened, baby?” He whispered as he rubbed her back.

“I-I don’t know. Just one of those stomach bugs probably,” she waved his concerns away.

“Maybe we should go see a healer tomorrow, firecracker?”

Asha immediately shook her head. “No, no. I promise I’m fine.”

She pushed herself up and walked slowly over to their wooden counter. She discreetly leaned against it as she reached for her toothbrush. “Look, if I get sick again, I promise I will go see a doctor. But there is no need to fuss. I feel much better already.”

“Ok, one more incident and you are headed to the doctor, no complaints.”

“Yes sir. Now let me brush my teeth and then we can go back to bed. I’ll be there in a second.”

She watched M’Baku’s back retreat from her as he returned to their bedroom. She slumped forward, her head resting in her hand. Something was off, she knew that much.

***

“Are you sure you are ok?” M’Baku asked as Asha wrapped her arm in his as they strolled through the market. She rolled her eyes.

She appreciated M’baku’s protectiveness, truly. But sometimes it felt overbearing. Aside from that bout of sickness two days ago, Asha had felt fine. Still tired but fine. And yet, he has asked her how she was feeling every hour for the last 48 hours. But when she thought about the husband she almost had, she chose to be grateful for this quirk of his. It just meant he cared deeply and wanted her to know that. She would always appreciate that about him… the lengths he went to ensure she felt loved, cherished and protected every single day. He wanted her to be around as long as she possibly could be and wanted to protect her from anything that could stop that.

“When are you going to stop asking me if I am ok?“

“When you are back to my usual energetic, non-sleeping, sickness-free fire goddess,” he mused.

“I promise, it was just one night. Even goddesses get sick, my king,” she teased, as she waved at a few vendors as they passed by. “Seriously, I’m good.”

“If you say so,” he muttered, his usual response to her assurances, an indication that he didn’t really believe her.

They approached Asha’s favorite shop in the market, a dressmaker who was a true magician with fabric. Asha had dragged Nakia, Okoye, and Shuri here to see Adisa, firmly believing her dresses were better than 99 percent of the dressmakers in the Golden City.

“My king, my queen,” Adisa saluted them as they entered the shop.

“Asha!”

“Neema! It is Queen Asha, you know that. Be respectful,” her mother called as the little girl barreled toward her chief and chieftess.

Asha smiled as Adisa’s daughter came rushing up to her and rammed into her legs for a hug. She didn’t particularly care about the young girl, or anyone in the tribe, calling her by her title. She was still getting used to that part.

“Oof!” Asha exclaimed as she wrapped her small arms around her legs. “Have you gotten stronger since I was last here? I think you have found your next great warrior, M’Baku,” she mused, sharing a wink with her husband.

The young girl glanced up at M’Baku, her eyes big with wonder and excitement. “Reallyyyy?” Her baby voice asked. M’Baku swooped down and picked her up, the girl immediately resting her head on his shoulder.

“I agree! We need strong warriors like you. You will train hard, yes? I will be looking for you to join us in a few years,” he remarked, smiling at the young girl.

It always made Asha’s heart melt watching M’Baku interact with children throughout the tribe. They all adored him. He had such a way with them, gentle and loving.

He placed her feet back on the ground, offering her another big smile before she turned her attention back to Asha.

“Can you make the fire, Queen Asha, pleasseeeee?”

Asha smiled before taking a few steps back, to put a healthy distance between her and the young girl, and stretched out her hands. While she enjoyed free use of her powers in Jabariland, she honestly didn’t think much about them anymore or use them often, especially this time of year. They were a joy for everyone during the winter months, instant fire at her fingertips whenever they needed it. But in the summer, Asha’s gift wasn’t as necessary as others were. Only one year into living among the Jabari and she truly appreciated how the Chosen were seen as gifts and help to the tribe, each one stepping up to fill a need or a gap when necessary.

Asha concentrated as she stretched her hands out, several flames emerging before forming three small gorillas. She and Neema watched as the gorillas ran around in her palms, the young girl getting close enough to watch but keeping a safe distance to ensure she didn’t get hurt.

She giggled and clapped her hands at the show, before Asha closed her palms, causing the fire to die out.

“What do you say?” Her mother prompted as she carried several large garment bags out of the back of the shop.

“Thank you!”

She gave Asha another hug before running to the back room. As she straightened back up, Asha swayed slightly for a second, unexpected dizziness washing over her. She took a deep breath, ignoring it briefly.

“Thank you for always entertaining her. She just loves that.”

M’Baku took the long garment bags out of her hands, trading them for a stack of Wakandan dollars.

Asha waved her hand, “It is nothing. She is a dream, so sweet. And thank you for the new pieces. So happy I have something for King T’Challa’s birthday this weekend.”

“I hope you like them! Will I see you again next week? I will have some new things for you to try?”

Asha nodded, “Of course!”

She and M’Baku said their goodbyes before heading back into the market toward their carriage. She leaned against M’Baku, using him to help her walk as the dizzy feeling grew. She wanted to ask him to stop but didn’t want to send him into a frenzy in the middle of the crowded market. But after a few more paces, she realized she couldn’t take it any longer.

“My love, can we s-slow down for one second?” She asked, her feet coming to a halt.

“Of course. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just felt dizzy all of a sudden. I am sure it is nothing.”

His hands went to her waist as he examined her. After a few minutes of deep breathes, Asha finally opened her eyes to see the extreme concern in his.

“Better?”

She nodded, “Much. Thanks.”

“Good. And we will have no more of this. I am calling a healer as soon as we get home.”

“M’Baku…” Asha whined. “Please, don’t make a big deal out of this. I just needed a minute.”

“And I need for you to be ok, really ok. And you aren’t. Lying about that for my benefit isn’t helping either of us. Even if it is something small, I would rather know about it so we can deal with it. Understand?” He kissed her forehead gently.

Asha nodded, accepting that this was not a battle she could win. “Understood.”

***

Asha paced up and down their bedroom as she waited for M’Baku to come home from his office. He had demanded she take the day off and rest, rearranging her entire day for her and arranging for his private healer to come check in on her.

The healer had left over an hour ago, leaving behind a diagnosis Asha hadn’t never thought to consider.

She was pregnant.

She almost fainted when he told her. She even asked him to check again to be sure.

Asha couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t tell whether to be excited or terrified. Asha had always wanted children but convinced herself for years that she would never have them. And then M’Baku came along and changed all of that. He made her impossible dreams feel possible again. And they both wanted children, him an army of them. But not this soon, they had barely been married.

She worried they were moving too fast. After all, they had dated, gotten engaged and gotten married all in less than a year. Asha regretted none of it, even if the move to Jabariland came with a steep learning curve. She had figured it out and she had never been happier. However, children were not something you rushed, they were something you planned for. And they hadn’t done any real planning yet.

Part of her worried how M’Baku would react, but only for a second. Regardless of the timing, he would be ecstatic, beside himself.

She had spent the last hour pacing their quarters, wondering how to tell him. However, she wouldn’t have to wait much longer as she looked up to find him walking into their quarters.

“My love, you are supposed to be in bed,” he chastised lightly, kissing her on the forehead. “What’s wrong?” He asked immediately as he took in the stressed look on her face. “What did the doctor say?”

Asha stared at his chest. She knew there was a better way to tell him this, something cute and romantic. But she was freaking out and needed him… his strength, his steadfastness, his wisdom. He would forgive the lack of fanfare in the announcement.

“Nothing bad. I’m ok… I-I’m just pregnant.”

She stole a glance at his face, finding a smile slowly growing there like a blooming flower.

“What?” He asked for clarification.

“I am pregnant.”

“Ah!” Asha let out a light scream and laugh as she was suddenly swept off her feet. M’Baku captured her lips as he spun her around. She giggled lightly.

“Are you happy?” She asked.

“You have made me the happiest man in the world, Asha. I love you more than anything.” He kissed her deeply.

He clapped his hands and laughed as they broke apart, immediately launching into a speech.

“We have to celebrate! In the Golden City this weekend! Oh and we have to tell our families. AND the Council. They will be ecstatic at this news… an heir. Wow. Oh he or she will be the greatest leader the Jabari has ever seen.” Asha watched as he paced and talked, his excitement flowing out of him like the rivers cut the mountains. “I will carve them a knobkerrie and I s-should start on the crib now. Do you th-“ he stopped as he looked over at his wife, his words dying at the sad smile on her face.

“What’s wrong, usana?” He asked, immediately coming up to her and rubbing her bare arms. As he looked at her, he could see the signs of her anxiety and fear, the unshed tears she was desperately trying to hold back glistening vin her eyes. “Are you not happy?”

She shook her head immediately, “No, no. I am happy. Of course, I’m happy,” she emphasized looking up at him. “I ju-“ she shook her head again, hesitant at sharing her fears with him… fears she knew he wouldn’t share. “N-nothing, it’s nothing. I am happy, really.”

“Stop. No, do not do that. Something is bothering you. Tell me.”

Asha looked away from him, her fears growing as she struggled to voice her anxieties to her husband. This was the part of marriage she still struggled with, being vulnerable and letting him in.

“Hey, look at me, baby.” His hand gently guided her chin so her eyes were back on him. “Whatever you have, whatever you are feeling… the good, the bad, all the complicated feelings in between, I want to hear them. I want all of you, always, Asha. Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

“Do you think I would be a good mother?” She whispered.

M’Baku tilted his head in confusion. Of all the things he expected her to say, this was not it. “Of course. Why would you ask such a thing?”

Asha sighed, a tear falling down her cheek. “Y-You know how my parents were. I mean, I basically died a-and my mother didn’t even check on me. She never protected me o-or loved me. The moment she could rid me from her life, she did. I probably don’t have a mothering bone i-in my body. I don’t know how to do this a-and I thought we would have more time for me to figure it out. A-and I am terrified… terrified I will disappoint them a-and you.”

M’Baku settled next to her, a comforting hand rubbing her back. “You are nothing like your parents, Asha. What’s that American saying, ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?’ Well, you and your siblings seemed to have fallen in a different field.” His heart lifted at the little smile at graced her face at his joke. It shattered him to hear how little she thought of herself, how her parents’ actions still haunted her. He understood, saw it every time they were in the Golden City.

She had begun healing from her relationship with her father since she spoke with him in the Ancestral Plane… she had closure at least. But her mother… that was a minefield he, T’Challa, and Shuri tried to avoid, at Asha’s insistence. They maintained pleasantries at official events and in front of the Council, for the sake of optics. But other than that, M’Baku couldn’t think of the last time she and her mother had uttered two words directly to each other or been in the same room without T’Challa and Shuri. However, that didn’t stop the snide remarks sent her way from her mother.

Asha pretended it didn’t bother her to be ignored, disrespected by her mother continuously. But M’Baku saw it, the way her heart fell - even just for a second - every single time. He remembered her coronation 6 months ago, two days after their wedding. He still remembered her face when the rest of her family and friends descended from the Talon but her Ramonda didn’t. T’Challa’s sorry attempt to find an excuse for her couldn’t hide what they all knew: the Queen Mother simply didn’t care to attend. It crushed her, he knew, to never be accepted by her. He cursed himself for never thinking about how that might affect her feelings about parenting their own children.

He wrapped his arm around her, her body immediately nestling into his. “I have seen the way you are with our nieces and nephews, the other children here. They all love you, Asha. You are nurturing and kind, gentle. But most importantly, you affirm them always, you uplift them and do everything in your power to ensure they know how valuable and important they are. You are already leagues and bounds ahead of your mother. I have no doubt in your mothering abilities because you are a mother to everyone in this tribe who needs you. I have no doubt you will be the same for our child,” his hand rubbed her stomach through her thick knit sweater.

“You think so?” She asked quietly, wiping her tears.

He kissed the side of her head, “I know so. And I also know there is no shame in fear, usana. Fear is the consequence that comes with growing and stretching ourselves as people. Parenting is hard, it will be the hardest thing we ever do. And I am scared too,” he nodded, nonverbally reiterating his statement at her skeptical eyebrow raise. “I am. But I will lean on Hanuman and I will lean on you, as I always do when I am scared. And I hope you will do for me. We can do this, Asha. You can do this.”

Asha nodded, smiling at him, “You are amazing. How did I get so lucky?” Her lips connected with his cheek, his coarse beard tickling her lips.

“I ask Hanuman the same thing everyday about you,” he whispered back, kissing her forehead. “Come on firecracker,” he laughed as he watched her try to hide a yawn. “My Queen deserves all the rest and relaxation.”

He helped her strip down to her undies before giving her one of his sweaters to sleep in and helped her into bed. Before she settled fully, she waved her hand to extinguish the fire across the room, her body heat being enough for both of them. Once she was settled, he joined her as she draped her body over his bare chest.

“This will be good, Asha. We will be great parents,” he said as they laid in the darkness.

Asha smiled, the first genuine one since she found out the news.

“I think we will too.”

***

Tag List: @destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @jellybean531 @skysynclair19@ashanti-notthesinger @gloriousgam3r @archivistofwakanda@leahnicole1219 @mygirlrenee @dramaqueeenamby

[youarejesting]

Mania.5

[MASTER LIST] [Mania Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: Mature 18+ Pairing: BTS OT7 Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Omegaverse Words: 1.3k Blood types: Namjoon, Jhope, Jungkook, Yoongi (A) Taehyung (AB) Jin, Jimin and Yoongi (O) (Jimin in real life is an A blood type)

Summary: At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-).

When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. There was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant. But as time passes he shows no Alpha nor Omega tendencies and frankly he doesn’t care. Working in his father’s electrical business helps pay the bills but Yoongi’s real passion is music.

One very hot day in the roof space of a luxury apartment that Yoongi is rewiring an intoxicatingly pleasant smell churns his insides and he finds himself in need of something to quench his thirst.

Warning: is a bit of a spicy chapter, gets a little smutty at the end.

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Yoongi couldn’t lift himself off the countertop, and he definitely was too scared to move to grab his pills, he felt a wetness soaking into his underwear and it made him squirm. He reprimanded himself for not bringing the stronger dose. How did this one not work, it had yesterday. Did his body try to overpower the suppressant? Or was it because these Alphas weren’t recessive?

These Alphas were dominant with strong and delicious pheromones. It was driving him crazy. But he had to move, leave or say something before something happened. Hoseok had shut the cupboard above Yoongi’s head and went to slide past again when Yoongi heard him inhale deeply.

“You smell good,” Hoseok grinned his voice as dark as he remembered when they met. Seokjin went to grab Yoongi, but upon hearing his desperate whine, Hoseok stopped him.

“Yoongi are you in heat?” Seokjin stressed this to him, Hoseok frowned, his hands shaking as he let go of Yoongi’s arm, “Do you need to go home?”

“It’s not a heat, I just feel weird,” Yoongi said, struggling to breathe, “It’s just heavy like I can’t get up.”

“You smell like the Beach,” Hoseok muttered while walking around the island, trying to put some space between them and Yoongi’s stomach stopped churning and he straightened out. Seokjin watched Yoong, who wiped some sweat and continued working.

“Yoongi your heats are unstable?” Seokjin let out a deep sigh, Yoongi was taking another tablet and could admit he was starting to feel a little better, but the nagging feeling was still there hidden in the pit of his stomach. “We should send you home while you are somewhat stable, I can get the car?”

“Wait, I am sorry,” Yoongi muttered, “But can I stay here, I feel more relaxed”

“I understand but until your heats are under control we cannot, let you stay here” Seokjin tried to reason with him. All Yoongi felt was rejection and he didn’t turn away from his work as he subtly brushed a tear away.

Hoseok could smell the tears and growled, “You are making him cry?”

“Hoseok, this decision doesn’t affect just us, there is the whole band to think about,” Yoongi thought of the whole band and felt a pang of jealousy that Jimin was in the backroom receiving a lot of attention, love, and praise, while he was out here feeling, empty, sick and rejected.

“What if I consent,” Yoongi admitted, finishing up the wiring and attaching the new power point to the wall, he was going slow, not wanting to turn around to face them embarrassed by his own confession.

“Well your consent helps but what about our consent, your heat affects the alphas judgment too, and then what about the other Omegas in this relationship?” Seokjin said

“Fine then, what if I consent to just you Seokjin, you aren’t affected by my pheromones like the Alphas are and I am within a comfortable state that I could definitely just leave unaffected?” Yoongi asked, gathering his things and moving to the dining room, “Just a hypothetical suggestion but would you let me stay with you?”

The older Omega squirmed in his seat, Yoongi could smell his arousal. It was like a sweet fig scent that warmed into a coconut and patchouli. Yoongi thought he smelt quite green like a garden.

“If I consent to you would you let me stay?” Yoongi breathed trying to keep his calm demeanor, if he came across too needy Seokjin might send him away. It was when the door to the hall opened that Yoongi knew he was in trouble, the scents, the sounds, and the feeling it made in his stomach.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one affected, Seokjin, was producing intense pheromones and Hoseok sighed “He consented when he wasn’t in heat, remember, so it should be okay right, Yoongi?”

Yoongi who had been kneeling on the table trying to install a new fan on the roof had doubled over breathing heavily against the dark wood. He couldn’t speak because of the force of the heat pressing down on him.

“You consented while you were sober, do you still consent?” Hoseok whispered, taking his hand it was like for a second everything eased and he was fine again, like Hoseok’s very presence calmed him.

“I mean I guess,” He said, his cheeks flushing, he was never ever one to beg and yet he was on the verge of tears if he couldn’t bury his face into Hoseok’s chest and breath in his beautiful calming scent.

“I will keep you safe?” Hoseok called for Namjoon, “Hey Namjoon-ah, your mate needs you”

Namjoon walked out in boxes and Hoseok scooped Yoongi off the table, “I hate being so weak, but something about this house and everyone in it makes me comfortable.”

Hoseok smiled at Yoongi’s muttering and carried him into the main bedroom dropping him on the very large mattress next to Jimin, Yoongi was coiling in pain. “Yoongi?” Jimin called reaching for the other Omega and planting a kiss on his lips. It was wet and his hands found Yoongi’s jumpsuit undoing the buttons quickly.

In the corner of the room, Yoongi saw Namjoon undressing Seokjin and kissing his neck, making the oldest Omega cry out and fidget. Yoongi looked up at Hoseok with pleading eyes. Hoping he could help relieve him of the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you want me to help you little Omega?” Hoseok grinned, teasing Yoongi who turned his head away flinching at the pain in his stomach. “You won’t get anything if you don’t speak up.”

“I don’t beg.” He muttered wincing again in pain the low dose pills took the edge off but his heat was still pretty strong. “You know already”

“That’s funny, I think I remember you begging last time, you were calling out so earnestly wanting someone to come and breed you, isn’t that right little Omega?” Hoseok teased some more.

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