#i wanted to come away with the takeaway that i could take things slowly and get back into climbing - maybe precisely because

[suddencolds]

. not snz

on healing and on fear (tags)

[suhsweet]

the compression shirt conundrum ⟡ kmg

wc: 1017 | pair: bf!mingyu x gn!reader | genre: fluff, slight cringe maybe, suggestive | tags: grey sweatpants and compression shirt, some swearing, reader becomes a zombie for mingyu pp, giggly!mingyu, just teeth rotting cuteness, reader is significantly smaller, mingyu is called a giant, pet names: honey, baby, babe, angel

summary: when mingyu comes home wearing a compression shirt and sweatpants, you no longer have any thoughts in your brain and become a zombie for him

authors note: the day we see mingyu in a compression shirt, god help us all… this is unedited, might be trash lmk

It was a quiet night in. You had a movie on, your place was clean, dishes washed, and your super hot boyfriend was on his way home any minute now with takeaway for dinner.

Mingyu had texted you that he was craving army stew and asked if you wanted anything from your go to restaurant. Sessions at the gym often caused him to develop a massive appetite afterwards.

“Honeyyy, I’m hommeee,” Mingyu’s rang.

“Hey baby— Oh. My. God.“

Your boyfriend looked at you confused. From where he stood, you were gaping at him, and somehow melting into the couch? He swapped his gym shoes for his house slippers and attentatively approached you.

“What’s… What’s going on? I brought food.”

“Who needs food when I’ve got a Mingyu buffet.” Your eyes raked up and down your boyfriend countless times. After such a smooth sailing night, you finally encountered your first problem.

Mingyu was wearing grey sweatpants.

And a black compression shirt.

A while back you told him that you wanted to see him in this combination. You knew he’d be hot as hell, however this was better than you ever expected.

It was just a plain, solid colored long sleeved shirt that was skintight. Every valley and ridge of muscles were clearly defined. You could feel your mouth water.

“Woah, woah, woah! I’ve got food here!” Mingyu whined as you rushed up to him while greedily running your fingers all over his body. You had half the mind to smash your face inbetween his pectorals.

Mingyu escaped your clutches as he headed straight to the kitchen, the hunger in his stomach making itself more apparent by the minute. He was about to pass out from starvation. His Hoshi-hyung really put him and the boys to work.

You were right behind him, following him around the kitchen as he went to plate up the food for the two of you. Your gaze never left his body. Was hypnosis by Underarmour clothing a thing? You were about to climb this man like a tree.

“B-b-baby?” He stuttered, looking at you with concern. You looked like a zombie.

You appeared to be a perfectly alive and healthy human. However, Mingyu observed your raised arms, reaching for him; and noted that you didn’t appear to have any thoughts in your head. All that was needed left was for you to moan ‘brains’ repeatedly.

“Must… Suck dick,” you said in a deep gravelly tone, putting on your best zombie impression. “Must… Suck dick.”

Mingyu let out a squawk of laughter as he backed away from you. His ears bloomed red. His toothy grin almost had you breaking character, but no! You were dedicated.

“I’m flattered that you think I look good, but an ‘omigosh babe, you look really hot’ would be just fine. This is… Wild.” Mingyu was slowly exiting the kitchen, and you were following him with slow steps.

He didn’t expect the clothes to have this much of an effect on you.

Was this what it was like to be you when you wore lingerie?

“No thought in brain, only Mingyu. Mingyuuu,” you chanted.

Mingyu managed to dodge a swipe you made at him. “Who are you? Where’s my angel gone? Give her back to me!”

“Right here, just give me them babies,” you replied with your zombie voice. Mingyu giggled.

He took a step backwards, and then another. You copied him but at a slower pace. With a final step backwards, Mingyu spun on his heel and dashed around the corner and into the hallway.

He dived into one of the rooms before you could even take another step. He had disappeared in an instant.

You wanted to laugh. With how small your apartment was, it was a proven fact that it would be impossible for him to successfully hide.

You ‘became’ your human self again and strolled towards the general direction your lover ran.

“Oh Mingyu… Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Mingyu cupped his face with his hands, reducing any chances of you hearing him breathe. He couldn’t laugh, but you made him giddy like a child. He was a grown man playing and seek after all.

All that could be heard in the house was the movie that was still playing on the TV, and the light scuffs of your house slippers against the floor.

You finally reached the bedroom you shared with Mingyu at the end of the hallway. Little did you know, he was hiding behind the door. Not hiding, but ready to attack.

You pouted, looking around. “Baby? I’m not a zombie anymore. Just horny.”

As soon as you made it all the way into the room, the door slammed behind you. Your breath was stolen when a giant shadow grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed.

You found yourself on your back, caged in by Mingyu. He had a hand on either side of your head on the mattress, and a knee on the edge of it between your legs.

“It’s just a pair of pants and a shirt,” Mingyu murmured as he bent his head to kiss your cheek.

His nose traced patterns on your face, heading down towards your neck to take in your familiar scent. He loved when you wore this fragrance.

“Just a pair of pants and a shirt?!” You parroted in offence. You threw your arms around his neck. “It is more than that. It is the masculine version of lacey lingerie! It is the sexiest, sluttiest outfit you could put on. You look sexy as fuck!”

Mingyu blushed at your words with a very, very shy smile on his face. He knew that he was attractive, but to have you enthusiastically praise his appearance made him proud of the effort he put in at the gym. Your opinion of him mattered most.

He kissed your head. “Thank you baby.”

“Kim Mingyu, if you don’t lay on this bed and let me worship your body I swear on your dog’s life…”

“Not if I worship you first. Who told you these fluffy shorts are my weakness?”

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Le Petit Mort

Summary: That period comfort fic.

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt x human!afab!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Content Warnings: Period Blood Flavoured Porn 18+!, Soft!Lestat, A Tiny Bit Angsty, Oral (F Receiving), Period Blood :), Comfort, A Little Somnophilia, A Surprising Amount Of Lestat's Musings About Human Biology

A/N: I just want to crawl into his ribcage and wrap myself around his heart.

No pressure tags: @notgilderoylockhart @queer-crusader @blueberrypancakesworld @theprettiesthead @midnight-mess

And it′s easy done

Our little remedy

And the reason comes on the common tongue of your loving me

- Moment's Silence By Hozier

Eventually, at the point where the latest hours of the night exchanged a brief shake of hands with those of the early morning, the city quieted down. Lamp-lit streets gradually guided fewer creatures of the night, or those who believed to be such, back home, and the spontaneous bursts of music after someone had swung a bar door open died out just like the plenty of colorful lights illuminating the window frames of the neighborhood; one going out after the other like a tiring sparkle of fireflies.

Lestat watched the city quarter slowly slip into a brief slumber, knowing that it would only take a mere handful of hours for the bustling on the streets to start anew, hungry bodies eager to fill themselves with hot beverages and takeaway sandwiches to soak up what was left from the night before. Daytime activities not meant to be entertained by him, however, much more so by you when you’d wake with him already gone, hiding away from the sunlight you were to let yourself bask in with every little stroll of yours to pick up flowers or enjoy some ice cream on the pier whilst he slept to pass the hours between being with and without you again. The pleasantries of being human.

With time, he’d forgotten most about it, had trained and taught himself not to care about the things so far out of his reach but that only lasted until you had come along, crossed his nightly path, slightly yet dangerously enough swaying on a pair of glittery high heels and black mascara running down your face, swept along the soft curve of your cheeks by a wash of heavy tears. Lestat had been out to feed and yet, your appearance that night had evoked a sense of pity inside the rotten pit of his ribcage that had thrown the hunger aside and instead led him to find out what this city had done to you on that particular night.

The undead tried not to dwell on this memory for too long for it wouldn’t bring him anything other than sorrow over something that wasn’t even lost to him yet, quite the contrary, still resting calmly in his embrace.

Exhaling a tender hum, you nuzzled your face against Lestat’s chest, slumbering away soundly whilst he watched over you. The vampire found himself perfectly content with that, having concluded that you couldn’t possibly entertain him at all hours of the night, especially not during the work week. The weekends, however, posed as the sacred frame of time you could actually spend time with one another without any overly negative repercussions. Not so seldomly, he felt a pang of guilt rumble through him for fucking your sleep schedule like that - yet another one of those things the vampire preferred not to sit in longer than necessary.

Shushing the unwelcome musings from his mind, Lestat placed a tender kiss to your hairline, one hand caressing down your back before coming back around your hips again, a hardly noticeable, miniscule tremble making his palm rest just above the waistband of your checkered pajama shorts; he liked them, enjoyed seeing you comfortable.

He had to double-take but it was there, right beneath his fingertips, pointed nails like stained glass barely touching your soft skin, a thrum going through your lower abdomen, a telltale pull inwards not yet strong enough to wake you. If he focused, he was able to feel the muscles tugging, preparing to shed and rid themselves of another months worth of lining and for a moment, he found himself flush with almost childlike wonder and adoration for the human body having well timed mechanisms for everything, be it antibodies to fight against an oncoming cold or an empty womb ready to start the cycle anew.

Sometimes, rarely but not less earnest, he missed it, missed that feeling of an itch scratching at the back of his throat as snow fell outside and he'd warmed himself in front of a fire that burned like vermillion and Amber whilst feeding from a bowl of soup. But then again, the longing withered with the remembrance of coughing his lungs out for weeks, bronchi ablaze with infection and rendered sticky with amounts of mucus that had left him wondering how he hadn’t drowned within himself. Lestat shook the memory with an accompanying, slight shake of his head, fingers still curiously following the pull and tear underneath your skin. It would render painful quickly and he wouldn't want you to wake up with this hurt ripping through your body like that, no, he much rather have you wake up gently and with enough time to take something to help with the discomfort before tucking yourself back in.

The hand that had been resting carefully dipped down, fingers slipping past the elastic easily before they curved and felt tacky wetness; a severe lack of arousal in the current amalgamation but he'd gleefully correct that in time.

A sheen of pinkish red glossed index and middle finger up to the knuckles as he withdrew again and he eyed it for a moment as you softly stirred in his embrace, you wouldn't wake just now, only a little turbulence that ebbed away quickly.

There was no second thought as Lestat raised his hand just enough to gingerly pop both fingers into his mouth to suck them clean. The traces of fresh blood were hardly even there and yet they gave him a brief head rush, fangs pushing through out of sheer instinct and the aftertaste leaving him craving more.

He sucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, dragging every last bit from between his taste buds as he pondered briefly and figured that you wouldn't mind as he slowly shimmy away from you just the tiniest little bit, enough to crouch down, shoulder against the mattress and fingers pulling at your shorts until they hung loose around your thighs. Lestat had to remind himself not to bite…only taste. There was no need for any harm in what he was wanting to do, tongue darting out to lap at you gently to pull from a source that came without violence and again, it egged him into a frenzy as the slightest taste of your blood swept into his mouth.

He hummed into you, palms splayed at your lower back and you groaned in return, subconscious eventually catching up to the careful ministrations.

“Huh?” Your voice low and sleep-drunk as your eyes fluttered open and dropped down immediately.

With Lestat's broad hands warm against your back, the dull sensation of pressure from within didn't come to you immediately, the battling pleasure so kindly donated by your lover spreading much more intense.

“Your bleedin’, ma belle.” Lestat mouthed against your throbbing cunt before pulling away just enough to look up at you, chin glazed with traces of red and fangs prodding against a glistening bottom lip.

If you hadn't been comfortable resting on your bed, you'd have probably just toppled over because the view from above rendered your knees weak in a heartbeat.

“Oh.” It trickled from your mouth, entirely content with what was happening and just in time before the air got knocked from your lungs as Lestat leaned back in, the width of his tongue snaking through soaked labia and eventually pushing inside, gently stretching you around the taut and nimble muscle.

Your fingers found his head, taking a fistful of honey-blonde curls to pull him flush against you as he coaxed a wash of little noises to feather from your lips and into the bedroom.

“You're impossible.” The words came breathless and slightly hoarse as the bridge of your lover's nose nudged against your swollen clit, flushed flesh pressing dangerously close to predatory jaws.

Lestat laughed into you, the vibration nearly sending you flying past the threshold already but you held back, kept tethering on the edge as he fed from you; each and every clench and throb of your cunt easing the growing discomfort whilst pulling the fresh red from you.

If it had been up to Lestat, he could've done it all night, for hours until the sun would come up, however, he was still attentively listening to your body and the way it reacted around him; tongue fucking into you, curling and curving against your insides. He felt how your muscles grew tighter, pressure growing and ready to snap in the very next moment.

He wanted you to let loose, to taste you coming all over his mouth and chin as your blood rendered sweet with the rush of release; a special delicacy. And for a few strokes of his tongue, he pressed in even further, nose rubbing against your sensitive clit. Lestat could feel the electricity jolting through your body, you practically vibrated above him, thighs twitching before the firework of blissed out sensations got set into motion.

A muffled Fuck got lost in fabric and feathers as you shoved your face into a thick pillow, the trembling if your body outside of your control as the contractions flushed any sort of pain right out of you and Lestat lapped at you like a feral animal, immediate overstimulation making you writh as he held you in place until he deemed himself sated.

He pulled away at last, the wet sound emanating from amidst your thighs making your face flush with heat.

“You French pervert.” You groan out halfway laughing.

“Je t'aime, aussi.”, Lestat looked up at you, grinning widely with his cheek pressed against your skin, “I reckon you get something to ease the pain, love.”

“But I have, don't I?” You smiled back, chest swelling with warmth and an overflowing gush of love.

“You sure do, but I was thinking about something that would actually let you sleep, no?”

[cuubism]

I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

[bgwlsmahf25]

After All This Time

Pairings: mom!Natasha x teendaughter!Reader; Wanda x Natasha; Wanda x teendaughter!Reader (platonic); Kate x reader

Genre: little bit of angst; fluff

“Something smells good. Hey, sweetheart, how was school?” Natasha dropped her bag by the kitchen doorway and gave you a one-armed hug, depositing her takeaway coffee mug and lunchbox in the sink.

“Hey mom, school was good.” You added a box of pasta to the boiling water on the stove and continued to stir the sauce you’d made. “Mrs Kenton thinks I should minor in business, she said I’d manage with it.” You looked at your mom. “I’m just not sure what I should do, y’know?”

“Well, you talked about it a lot. And you told Steve that you were majoring in psychology with a minor in business. I thought your mind was made up on that front?” She pushed some hair out of your face and kissed the top of your head. “What’s holding you back?”

“Tell you over dinner?”

“Hmm.” She gave you a look then nodded and began setting the table.

“Alright, hit me with it,” Natasha said, sitting down as you ladled pasta and sauce onto her plate. “Mmm, this looks good.”

“I should hope so, I spent ages slaving over the stove,” you laughed. “It’s that vodka tomato pasta sauce thing that’s been all over my feed lately.”

“As long as you didn’t use my nice vodka,” your mom warned.

“No, of course not.” You sat down and began to eat, then looked up to find her watching you. “What?” She raised an eyebrow and you sighed. “Um, ok, we can talk about it. I just don’t want to move away for college. I want to stay in the city or one of the neighbouring states.”

“I’m assuming there’s a reason you don’t want to leave New York,” your mom prompted.

“There's someone,” you reluctantly admitted. “Someone who means more to me, the more time I spend with them. I don’t want a long-distance relationship.”

“A relationship, huh?” Natasha was thoughtful. The last time you’d been in a relationship was over two years ago. “What’s his name?” You hesitated, biting at your lip. Slowly, you looked up to meet your mom’s gaze. Her expression shifted. “What’s her name?”

“Kate.” You reached out, taking your mom’s hand in yours. “Are you ok with this? With me being gay, I mean?”

“Honey, of course I’m ok with it!” she exclaimed, getting up and rushing around the table to pull you into a hug. “I’m honoured that you shared it with me, that you felt you could come out to me. Of course I’m ok with it.”

“Thanks mom,” you whispered, hugging her tightly.

“So,” Natasha said, sitting back down in her seat and spearing a forkful of pasta, “how long have you two been…?” Your mom’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Do we need to have the talk?”

“Mom, we already had the talk when I was dating that guy!” you laughed. “Ew, no, we don’t need to have the talk.”

“So when can I meet her? And you didn’t answer my question,” she said, playfully wagging a finger at you. She scooped the pasta into her mouth.

You rolled your eyes. “We’ve been together for just over a month. And no, you can’t meet her yet. I want you to meet her, just not that soon.”

“Hmmm, ok.”

***

A few weeks later

“You didn’t tell her I was an Avenger?” Kate said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Surely that would have been a good idea.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I just - I wanted to tell her about me and not so much about the relationship, but being my mom, she wanted to know all about that too.” You lent your head on her shoulder, smiling as she wrapped an arm around you.

You and Kate were on a date. She’d taken you out for dinner and then the two of you had found an empty rooftop where you could look out across New York.

“We’re coming to the compound next week,” you murmured.

Kate sat up and looked at you. “You are? Finally!”

“Me and my mom. If you give me heart eyes, she’ll know.”

“Why’s it so bad if she knows? She already knows my name. She’s probably worked out that it’s me anyway. It won’t take her long to put the information you gave her through one of her databases.”

“My mom wouldn’t track you,” you scoffed, then sighed as Kate looked at you. “Nope, that’s exactly what she’d do. She did it with my exes, even before I told her.”

“Great, I’m on her hit list now,” Kate sighed and you frowned reproachfully at her. “Ok, ok, that wasn’t fair of me.” She leant in and gave you a soft kiss, making you smile. “Are you going to tell her? Y’know, before you come to the compound.”

“Maybe,” you teased. “If it’ll keep you on your best behaviour, then yes.”

“I’m always behaving!” she protested, making you laugh and pull her in for another kiss.

***

“You’re very quiet.” Natasha looked over at you. “What are you reading?”

“Just a book.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s for school. Something Mrs Kenton wants us to read for psychology.” You flipped the page of your textbook, but your mind wasn’t on your studies. You were thinking about Kate being at the compound and how the first meeting between her and your mom was going to go.

“What’s on your mind?” Natasha said softly. “I can tell you’re not reading, nobody turns the pages that fast.”

She’d caught you. You sighed and shut the book. “My girlfriend’s going to be at the compound. I know you’ve already tracked her down, read through her file or whatever SHIELD’s got on her.”

“Oh. No, sweetheart, I hadn’t looked -” Your mom paused. “Wait. You said her name was Kate. Are you dating Kate Bishop?”

Crap. Now you were well and truly stuffed. You bit your lip and blushed, looking down at your lap, your fingers twisting through each other. “Yes,” you said quietly.

“Someone’s blushing,” your mom teased. She pulled over abruptly and reached out, turning your face to hers. “Honey, I’m not mad. I hadn’t looked her up in a database. I wanted you to tell me in your own time. Besides, I heard Yelena teasing Kate about her new girlfriend and from what you’d told me… I just put two and two together but I didn’t look into it. I wanted you to come to me.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m not.” She pulled you into a hug. “I’m happy for you. And I’m really proud of you for telling me. I wanted it to be your choice.”

You smiled. “Ok, can we head to the compound now?”

“Eager to see a special someone?”

“Mom!”

***

You’d messaged Kate and updated her so as Natasha pulled into the parking garage, Kate was waiting nervously by the elevators. You ran over and pulled her into a hug, leaning your forehead against hers.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“She’s ok with it?” Kate said, looking over your shoulder to where Natasha was watching the two of you.

“Yes!” you said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ok, lovebirds, come and help me with the bags,” Natasha called.

“Hi,” Kate said, sticking her hand out once she reached Natasha. “I’m Kate.”

“Kate, there’s no need for that. I’ve trained with you for over a year. Come here,” and you smiled, watching your mom pull your girlfriend into a hug.

Later that evening

“Thanks for dinner, Auntie Wanda,” you said to Wanda. The witch had cooked one of her native Sokovian dishes for team dinner. It had been an evening of laughter and settling in. Natasha needed to be at the compound for a week. You were fine with the sudden holiday, but she’d reminded you to stay up to date on your studies. Kate sat next to you at dinner, Yelena on your other side, and the three of you caught up. Occasionally, you noticed your mom glancing at the three of you and smiling. You also noticed her looking at Wanda, but her expression was one you couldn’t read.

“You’re welcome, little krolik [bunny],” she said, slipping the term of endearment in. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“See you tomorrow,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen. You noticed your mom standing in the doorway, apparently hesitant. “Mom. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just need to brief Wanda on something. I’ll come and find you in a bit.”

“Oh actually, I was going to ask if I can stay in Kate’s room?” You blurted out, amazed at your sudden confidence.

Your mom thought for a moment then nodded, taking you by surprise. “Yes, I suppose that’s ok. No funny business, though.”

“Mom!” She laughed as you ran down the hall towards the bedrooms. She didn’t see you look back, watching as she squared her shoulders and headed into the kitchen. Something was going on and it made you worried.

***

“Hey, you’re very quiet. And you don’t want to cuddle. What’s wrong?” Kate was sitting up in her bed, leaning against the headboard, watching you with a concerned expression.

“I’m fine,” you replied, leaning your head against the cool glass of her window. You were sitting on her windowsill, staring into nothingness, Kate’s room reflected in the glass.

“You’re not fine.” She got out of bed and came over, wrapping her arms around you and leaning her head on your shoulder. “You’re tense. What’s wrong, angel?” She gently massaged your shoulders, pulling the tension out of you.

“Something’s up with my mom,” you sighed. “She always tells me what’s going on but she was acting weird at dinner and then I don’t know, there was a moment in the kitchen just now. She’s worried about something and it’s making me worried because I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Can you talk to her?”

“I tried but she brushed it off. Oh, and I asked if I could stay in your room tonight and she just said yes, no hesitation. Normally, I’d have to push to get her permission on something like this, but she just… let me.” You sighed. “Am I reading too much into this?”

“Yes, my love, I think you might be. It’s ok though, I’ve got training scheduled with her tomorrow morning. I can normally gauge how it’s going to go, so I’ll know if something’s off and I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning against Kate.

The two of you got into bed. You snuggled up against your girlfriend, but your mind was racing. Your mom’s behaviour was out of character and it unsettled you. She’d adopted you when you were twelve, it had been hard for her to gain your trust. Then you started at a new school and got bullied, coming home with bruises and tear tracks on your cheeks. Natasha had quickly realised something was wrong and pushed for you to change to a new school, which you loved being at. Since that event, the two of you shared a very close bond and told each other everything.

You knew she kept details of her work under wraps, not wanting you to hear about the missions she’d been on, or even that she couldn’t share some of the details if they were classified. But this wasn’t to do with work. She wanted to brief Wanda on something, but you instinctively knew that it wasn’t about work. Something had happened between your mom and Wanda, you were sure of it. You just didn’t know what.

Kate fell asleep and you rolled over, grabbing your phone. Unlocking it, you saw a message from Natasha.

Everything ok? Sleep well xx

You hesitated, then typed a response, your fingers flying over the keyboard:

Everything’s ok here. Kate’s asleep, but I’m not. Can we talk, now please xx

Of course. Meet you in the corridor in 5

***

Kate had barely stirred as you slipped out of bed, threw on one of her hoodies which was lying on the floor and left her room, shoving your feet into your sneakers. Natasha was just emerging from her room down the hall, she smiled when she saw you, then pointed to the elevator.

There was only the quiet hum of the lift as the two of you headed for the rooftop. You hadn’t been up here that often but you knew Natasha liked it. You leant against her and she put an arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Wow, it’s changed up here,” you said, looking around. Three picnic tables were joined together and someone had started a garden. There were long, low planters against the far side of the rooftop. You could just about make out the small green shrubs in them.

“Yes. I can’t remember when we last came up here,” Natasha mused, heading for one of the picnic tables. You followed her and sat down opposite her, reaching out and putting your hands in hers. She looked at you but you spoke before she could.

“Mom, what’s going on with you? Please don’t tell me you’re fine, I know that something’s wrong. You seem really sad.” Your mom looked away from you sharply, taking in a deep breath before sighing and turning to look at you again. You noticed her eyes were filled with unshed tears and you jumped up, going and sitting next to her and leaning into her. “Mom?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” She began, but her voice was thick. “I should have told you about this ages ago, but it’s not news that I want everyone to know.” She glanced at you and you nodded, knowing that you were to keep it from Kate. “I didn’t know how to tell you at the time… I was trying to protect you.”

“Mom, you’re scaring me,” you said, fear creeping into your voice. “Are you sick? What’s going on?”

“No, no, darling, I’m not sick. I just… I went through something with someone. But it didn’t last.”

“You had a relationship?” You hesitated, then asked the question in your mind anyway. “Was it with Auntie Wanda?”

She looked at you then let out a watery chuckle. “Nothing escapes you, does it?”

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded, then wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes, it was. It was brief and we kept it very private, but it didn’t last. There was too much pressure, from others, from the outside world, from ourselves.”

“Is this your first time seeing her since it ended?” You took your mom’s hand in yours, snuggling up to her to stay warm. She unlaced your fingers and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her side. “And so you’re sad because it’s hard to be around her?”

“You are way too perceptive for your own good,” she chuckled, making you smile. “No, it ended quite some time ago. Years, in fact. It’s just… she was seeing someone. Which prevented me from saying anything. But that’s not a thing anymore either apparently.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you said, eyes lighting up. “I can help! I’ll cook dinner, make it all nice and cosy.”

“That’s very sweet of you to offer, but nothing’s going to happen.”

“But you’re sad,” you said, staring at Natasha with pleading eyes. “And I don’t like seeing my mom sad, especially if there’s a way to fix it.”

“Honey… I don’t think she wants to fix it,” Natasha said quietly, taking your hands into hers. “I talked to her earlier this evening, but she didn’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s not what I said,” a voice spoke out of the darkness, making you both jump. Natasha pushed you behind her and took a defensive stance, before relaxing as Wanda walked out of the shadows.

***

You sat between the two women, looking from one to the other like you were watching tennis, as they spoke.

“You twisted my words,” Wanda said, a sad smile on her face. “I never said that I didn’t want to talk about it. I just said, not right now.”

“But what does that mean?” Natasha never took her eyes from Wanda’s face. “Does that mean you want to talk in a few days, a few weeks, a few months?”

“Ah, truth be told, I was holding off for your sake, little krolik,” Wanda said, turning her gaze to you. “I knew your mom hadn’t told you, otherwise you’d be looking at me like you are right now. And I didn’t want to jeopardise anything.”

“You wouldn’t have!” you said, pausing as Natasha placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you head to bed now?” Your mom turned to you. “It’s getting late and I think Wanda and I have some catching up to do.”

“Don’t make any rash decisions,” you whispered, leaning in and giving your mom a hug. “But don’t say no if your heart’s saying yes.”

“Alright, mom,” she laughed, tussling your hair affectionately. “Off with you now.”

You leant in and gave Wanda a hug, whispering, “She wants to say yes, and I know you do too.”

Wanda’s eyes were sparkling with amusement when you pulled away and walked to the elevator. The last thing you saw before the doors shut was your mom and Wanda, hands in each other’s, talking intently.

***

“Morning sleepyhead,” Kate said, leaning over you with a big smile on her face. “Someone slept in late.”

“Uhh, what time is it?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

“7.30. That’s late for you!”

“How would you know?” You sat up and took the glass of orange juice she was holding out. “Have you been watching me sleep?”

“No, dummy, I’ve been at training. Besides, when we first started talking, you texted promptly at 7am every morning.”

“I had school!” You couldn’t help but take in your girlfriend’s training kit. She had a mustard yellow hoodie on, which you recognised as yours, and a pair of black leggings. “How was training?”

“It was good. And before you ask, I saw your mom. She’s ok, she seemed to be in good spirits. Oh, and she said that she wants to talk to you when you’ve got a moment.”

“Did she say where?”

“Just in the kitchen at breakfast. Although she’s eaten now, I think she means your breakfast.” Kate shrugged. “I didn’t really ask her about the particulars. I’m still getting used to the whole ‘your mom knows about us’ thing, and I was trying not to be awkward around her, but I think I kind of messed it up. So, we were on the mat, and she was trying to teach me a new move from one of her martial arts things and I may have called her ‘mom.’ Anyway it got a bit awkward and I was just staring at her, trying to think of how to apologise and…”

You cut Kate off mid-ramble, pulling her on top of you and kissing her, wrapping your arms around her. “I can talk to my mom later. If it’s urgent, she’ll come and find me. For now, I just want to stay here, like this. If that’s ok with you.”

Kate smiled and kissed you again, murmuring a ‘yes’ against your lips.

***

“Someone’s a late riser,” Natasha commented, when you finally swung by the conference room where she was hanging out. She pushed some photos and documents into a folder and closed it.

“It’s a Saturday,” you grumbled, sinking into the seat next to her. “I’m allowed a lie-in.”

“Ok, teenager,” she said, grinning at you. “Just make sure you get some of that psychology paper done today, please.”

“Yes, mom,” you sighed. “Anyway, you wanted to talk to me?”

She got up and shut the door. “Yes, I did. Wanda and I talked some more last night, but also this morning. We want to give it another go, but only if you’re cool with it.”

“I’m cool with it,” you gasped happily, leaping up and flinging your arms around your mom. “I’m so totally 100% cool with it!”

“My daughter’s malfunctioning,” she teased, but there was a smile on her face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to say yes if you don’t feel that way.”

“Mom, I’m saying yes in a big way. Don’t ruin the moment,” and you pulled her into another hug.

There was a knock at the door. You both looked over to see Wanda standing outside. Your mom glanced at you and you nodded, smiling. She opened the door and spoke briefly to Wanda, giving her a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the corridor. Wanda shut the door and turned to you. You realised that she was nervous.

“Do I get to call you mom now too?” you blurted, making the witch smile. “Ohmygod, that was not what I meant to say. I am so sorry.”

Wanda pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms tightly around you. You returned the hug gladly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you for talking some sense into her,” you chuckled. “Although I guess that was partly me as well.” You took a step back, taking Wanda in. “I guess the whole ‘if you break her heart, I will find you’ speech goes without saying?” She smiled and nodded. “Good. I just, she’s my mom, you know. I hurt when she’s hurting. So please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not planning too, y/n. I want to do my best to make both of you happy.”

“We can double date now!” You exclaimed, suddenly realising that you and Kate could go on dates with your mom and Wanda. “Ohmygod, this is going to be so cool!”

Wanda watched you with an amused smile on her face. She’d been introduced to you a few months after Natasha had officially adopted you and she’d watched the struggles your mom had gone through to connect with you. You’d clicked immediately with Wanda which had frustrated and upset Natasha, but once you and your mom got close, the two of you were inseparable.

***

A few months later

“Mom, you’d better be ready. They’ll be here any moment!” You shouted up the stairs, hopping around on one foot while you tried to pull your sneakers on.

“I’m coming, Miss Impatient!” Natasha called back, making you chuckle.

“Not impatient, only overexcited,” you admitted. “Wow, mom, you look gorgeous.” You grinned. “Wanda won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.”

“Ok, that’s enough of that,” she said, poking you in the arm and making you laugh. “No, y/n, please. You cannot wear sneakers to one of Tony’s galas.”

“But I like my sneakers.”

“No. Change your shoes.” Natasha raised an eyebrow when you glared at her. “And drop the attitude.”

“Yes mom,” you sighed, kicking your sneakers off and picking up the smart shoes your mom had bought you. “Doesn’t mean I’m dropping the attitude,” you said cheekily, dodging another poke from Natasha, who was looking at you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“How on earth does Kate put up with you, hm?”

“Hey!” You protested, standing up, shoving your hands in your trouser pockets. “We get along just fine. She loves me anyway, she wouldn’t dare to tell me off.” You leant your head on your mom’s shoulder. “That’s your job.”

“Don’t I know it,” Natasha sighed, making you laugh.

There was a knock at the door and you raced to open it, squealing as you took in the sight of Kate in a short purple dress. Her hair was undone and fell in gentle waves over her shoulders. “You look delicious,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing her.

“Your mom’s right there,” she said, poking you and stepping inside.

“What is it with everyone poking me?!” You complained. Your eyes widened as you noticed Wanda in a deep red dress, her hair done in an elegant crown braid. “Hey, someone brushes up well,” you grinned.

“Hello to you too,” she said, pinching your cheek and heading to greet your mom.

***

Later that evening, as you danced around at Tony’s gala with Kate, who’d grabbed your hands and tugged you onto the dancefloor, you couldn’t have been happier. Your mom and Wanda were sitting next to each other at the bar, chatting and laughing to Steve, who was attempting to make cocktails. Natasha reached over and guided his hands, pointing out a bottle behind the bar, making him groan and Wanda laugh.

It had taken a few weeks, but your mom and Wanda were extremely happy together and you’d started calling Wanda ‘mom’ which made her face light up and Natasha look at you fondly. Kate came over regularly, spending evenings in your room while you studied and prepared for college. You’d decided to major in psychology with a minor in business and you were excited to start classes in the autumn.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” Kate said, pulling you in close as a slow song started playing.

“Just my family,” you said, looking over at Wanda and Natasha, “and my beautiful girlfriend,” you added, looking into Kate’s eyes and making her blush.

She kissed you softly, holding you close. “Hey, y/n. I love you.”

Your face lit up with a smile. It was the first time she’d said those words to you. “I love you too, Katie.”

[mollymagician]

Been battling with the Writing Paralysis Demons

Here, have I come bearing a chunk of spooky street-artist Dream-verse

One thing they don’t talk about, in the grand tradition of stories about some poor sod who’s suddenly discovered that Magic Is Real And Nothing Is What It Seems, is that afterward you still have to get the laundry done.

Magic is real, and you still need clean pants.

Magic is real and you still need to go round the shops for milk.

It’s been three days since he discovered conclusively that Magic Is Real, and Hob is tired. Everything seems to take longer, he can’t concentrate on anything. He estimates that at least 75% of his brain is currently being used up processing a completely new world view, and tries to cut himself some slack. He read somewhere that it takes the human nervous system around 23 days to adjust to a new normal, which means twenty more days of feeling as though he’s been hit by a bat while also trying to learn a foreign language that no one else can hear.

Magic is real and now it’s Friday and Friday means takeaway and bad telly, at least it has these past few months. Five o’clock found him walking up the side of the Inn, balancing a pizza box from the cafe down the road and a sack of groceries. It had become habit now to scan every flat surface around the outside of the building, like someone with half an eye always out for a lucky penny. He caught himself doing it in the blue twilight—ground up, right to left, until his gaze landed on his doorway and he felt his heart quite literally leap in his chest.

The brickwork around the door leading up to his flat was decorated with…roses. Had to be roses. Green lines twisted in an angular labyrinth across the brickwork, studded here and there with small swirling vortexes in crimson.

Hobs steps crunched slowly on the gravel as he approached. He’d been gone an hour, at most. The lines of chalk were bright and fresh. In the blue twilight he could just make out a faint rain of dust caught in the crevices between the bricks, not yet blown away by the wind.

The back of his neck prickled.

He pitched his voice to carry over the quiet background clatter of the pub going about its Friday night’s business. “Evening, my friend. If you’re nearby.” He coughed to clear the cold rasp from his throat. “I know the Inn can be a riot this time of day, and I know you like your quiet. I just thought…you know, my flats just up these stairs. You could come in out of the wind. If you wanted.”

The breeze sent a piece of litter skittering across the empty yard.

“I know my word counts for fuck-all in the grand scheme of things…but I promise you’re safe here.” Resisting the urge to turn around took every ounce of willpower he currently possessed. “I don’t want to use your powers for—for nefarious purposes. I’d just like to know how you’re faring.”

Silence.

“Well…” Hob leaned over and used one foot to tip the old brick he kept nearby into the doorframe. “The door’s open. And. There’s pizza. If you’re interested.” Before the sensation of being a monumental idiot could freeze him to the ground, he turned and started up the stairs. The door thunked against the brick as it swung nearly shut, muffling the sound of the wind.

He managed not to run up the darkened stairwell, but it was a near thing.

[byemambo]

4Minutes EP. 7 - My Takeaways

Wow, this series is only becoming more and more intense for me to organize my thoughts in a timely fashion. It also doesn't help that so much content has been released for me over the past few days and there are only 24 hours in a day hahahaha. But now I'm back, and looking forward to the final episode in the next few days. It's been a wild run and I'm excited to see the wrap up.

Emotional Development: Outcomes of a Broken Home

In this series, we get a chance to entangle ourselves with various family dynamics and the characters growing up within those dynamics. What I found most interesting and can help aid in my analysis is how abuse and neglect affect those who grew up deprived of emotional needs during their upbringing, but other significant moments within their development. I really enjoy consuming psychology media, but I'll be referring to Patrick Teahan's 5 Emotional Development Delays: What You Need to Know which actually came out not even 24 hours before I began tackling this post so it was the perfect time.

Teahan has highlighted his points within the original video as such (which I may or may not refer to all of them):

Codependency & Romantic Intimacy Delays

Security Delays

Perception Problems Delays

Functioning Delays

Negative Coping Strategies Delay

I think it's safe to assume that almost all the main characters within this series have dysfunctional upbringings, pivoting them in certain directions in life that mimics the dysfunction or invites it into their lives (all highlighted under the cut!).

Korn: Fear Driven by Shame and Incompetence

Through Great's confrontation in front of the business building after walking out of his dad's office, more details of Great's childhood consisted of being the son to the mistress, where Korn's mother took on the role of his wife respectively. Once Korn's mother commits suicide which some people have speculated that Great's mother could have possibly killed her herself but this has yet to be confirmed, there is an obvious shift in the relationship the family has with one another and has best been illustrated during their family dinner scenes and Korn's confrontational scenes with Great.

In Teahan's first point about codependency:

"...a four year old will be terrified that a connection is severed with an angry or aloof parent, [often] coming up with really good attempts to appease or please a parent to reestablish or make that connection, even if it consistently fails..."

I'm sure after the death of his mother along with Great's mother inversely taking her place beside his father, Korn confines himself by meeting with his father's demands, even if that entailed perpetuating the same cycle of corruption and harm placed upon those beneath their influence for decades. However, we witnessed one of the first moments of Korn's facade breaking once he was scolded by his father once more when the company's crimes were revealed to the general public: speaking out of turn and belittling Great's mother in an uproar.

This frustration only grew with time as the operations of the organized crime scheme continued to fall, from the cyber hack, to the information leak and inability to forcefully receive information and leads from the captive, to Samarn reporting to his father without permission. I spoke more about Korn's character in my episode 4 analysis which I think is worth checking out for more details on Korn's personality. Being treated with harshness and as a failure only triggered his innate desire for his own autonomy and to be desired by those he cares for, only to be turned away over and over again: Great, his father, Tonkla.

Episode 5

Along with Teahan's thoughts on romantic intimacy that coincides with codependency, stressing the distinction that these delays and resolutions to conflict are "childlike" and not "childish":

"...children don't like a process of getting to know someone slowly and they want things to be more immediate."

Once we were able to piece together the differing timelines between Great's reality versus his 4 minute reality which is elaborated in my episode 6 analysis, it seemed like Korn's scenes remained consistent except for the initial scene we get with Great after dropping him off after dinner during episode 1. Depicting him as someone who deeply cares for his younger brother as his familiar and someone he can confide in, this persona alters itself to someone who desires a means to an end and doing everything within his power to maintain his family at the top of the hierarchy, Korn spirals and becomes the main cause of his downfall through his own temper and neglect.

The stark difference between how he approached his romantic relationship at the beginning with Tonkla versus the last time they spoke to one another in person is like night and day, but Korn's darkness consumes him to a point-of-no-return. Which now revisiting the episode for more clarity: Korn is last seen at Great's condo while the police are still present at the crime scene, however, we don't see him at the hospital once Great had been admitted and suffering from instability of his vitals. I can only infer that he had left to follow his parents across the border, or Tonkla had successfully gotten to him with the intention of killing him.

When Korn attempts to overpower Tonkla into having sex with him despite not being present for weeks during Tonkla mourning over the murder of his younger brother, rather than meeting his supposed lover with empathy and remorse: he doubles down though intimidation tactics and speaking down to Tonkla. This of course fails once Tonkla's emotional state had been pushed beyond its limits, breaking him from the confines of the relationship of master and servant, even if it was for a brief moment.

Great: Free Will Does Not Exist

Great's demise made me pity him as an individual, especially after I reading cookie-kat777's post about Great's depression. Throughout the original timeline, Great is someone who moves in the world with recklessness and a deep rooted hate and defiance towards his father out of spite. Teahan's thoughts when discussing perception problems further explains Great's skewed mindset towards the severity of his actions within the moment, not understanding the deep set grief and despair he had brought onto others:

"...when we have a toxic parent, a child is whatever the parent says they are. They can rebel against those or take them on, both become extreme distortions of perception...they might never take themselves seriously and they will stay small. A toxic parent expects adult behavior from a child...adult survivors struggle [with] not seeing their own humanity as well as the humanity in others."

We see this emotional outburst onto Great from all angles: his hook up turned unrequited love Tyme, his brother, his father, his mother. With his own instability to make room for the processing of his own emotions, I could only imagine the weight he experienced during those final weeks before him being shot by Tonkla. He had no care in the world about Manee's death after his hit and run, his eventual whiplash from his assistance in getting rid of the body with Title, his immediate horror witnessing the killing of Nan, and eventually his own demise.

Episode 5

In a world where no matter what he does, decisions are made on his behalf without his input, without his own thoughts, without his own feelings, without his own agreement. Rather than taking accountability for their own sins, his family continues to place the burden onto Great, making such claims about following through with such horrific intentions for "his" sake. Whether it be providing him with a financially stable home life, giving him the fancy cars and fancy condos to live mindlessly in, buying the prizes out of the claw machine, all in order to keep him quiet and obedient: it may seem out of the question for some people that undermine the conflict that Great experiences simply because he's a "rich spoiled brat". Even though I have never seen nor have touched the level of wealth and status Great's family has been able to achieve, as someone with my own mental health disorders and dissonance: unhappiness does not care about who its target is, and even with all the wealth in the world and everything handed to you, there is still plenty of room for dysfunction and despair to thrive. After all, misery loves company.

We can see this level of recklessness and destructive behavior through Great's actions, especially with his reactions to all the heinous situations he comes across. Moments such as him hitting Manee or helping Title dispose of Dome's body, you can see how he's in a daze for majority of those moments before continuing on and avoiding damages and accountability. But once those moments pass, a wave of anxiety and stress overcomes him, using impulsive outlets such as smoking and sex to calm his nerves or even heighten them to reach a state of euphoria that temporarily shields him from his damning reality.

The only few moments we witnessed Great's joyous moments in his reality as well as his imagined reality had to do with the presence of love and affection:

Episode 1, 3, 4, 7

What I found interesting from the flashback was not just about Tyme and Great having a shared past, but it seemed like Great's childhood during the time of Tyme's family becoming partners in the operation was fairly tame. There are genuine displays of affection from his mother and father, and it only makes me wonder when the shift occurred between him and his father to escalate to a point of destructive behavior. Was is when he wasn't able to play with Tyme anymore? Was it when Great's father's moral values shifted once Tyme's parents were killed for an exchange of more wealth and status?

Tonkla: Eye for an Eye, Tooth for a Tooth

Teahan's comments on negative coping strategies highlighted my own interpretation of Tonkla's behavior and personality throughout the series:

"...we often find things that would help us address pain. ...can also find drugs and alcohol to manage horrific stuff going on in their home life or in their parental relationships."

I talked about Tonkla's personality and perception in depth in my episode 4 analysis when talking about his dynamic with Korn, alluding to potential physical abuse since we witnessed his emotional abuse earlier on in the series. 4MINUTES deciding to include this backstory helps us as the audience understand the severity of Tonkla's home situation before deciding to live under Korn's care that we see in episode 1. How brutal and violent his father is, how despite reporting to the police on multiple occasions, they remain hands off and enable the abuse to persist, underhandedly assuming Tonkla and his brother to continue enduring the abuse they suffer every day under their own roof.

Episode 7

We can see how passive and absentminded Tonkla becomes when it comes to enduring his own mistreatment, which we get a gist of this from how he processed Dome's passing as well as the secret hot and cold relationship he has with Korn. Surviving off of the same impulsiveness Great relies on to cope with such a bittersweet reality, Tonkla's drug usage and rough sexual encounters keep him from going beyond the edge for as long as possible, but of course, falls short once Dome, his only family member passes away. When we see Tonkla's dad abusing and killing the cat that appears in front of Tonkla as a hallucination throughout the episodes, the collar becomes an even deeper metaphor to Tonkla's imprisonment and stagnation serving as a reminder of not only his father's abuse, but his ownership underneath Korn (he even mentions his father passing away during the conversation with Korn after their first time in episode 4 but now we know his true cause of death).

Episode 7

Teahan elaborates on the romantic aspect of these emotional delays:

"...there is a special bond or a fantasy with their partner which doesn't match the reality of what it is." "...not caring if our partners are actually abusive for fear of being wrong or being in a relationship where we're not a good match."

As well as perceptual issues stemming from abuse during a child's upbringing:

"Often the abuse itself is a parent damaging a child's perception because the adults have the power over reality...they really get into fights in their head and the offense, real or imagined, stays with them, where we perceive the person having an issue with us or making it about us when it's really about the other person."

However, we see this shift in reclaiming his power once Win comes into the picture and tries everything within his power to bring justice to Dome's murder (we don't know for sure if that's stemming from a place of sexual desire, romantic, a strong sense of justice, or a combination of all three). As far as I'm concerned: out of all the main characters, Win has been reliable and consistent in his protection and devotion to Tonkla, offering up a different side of connection as a juxtaposition to the abuse and power imbalance Tonkla dealt with for majority of his life. Because of how disconnected he becomes from Korn's absence, I find it interesting how Korn managed to keep important details such as his relationship to Great a secret from Tonkla, making this betrayal more damaging. As the famous Code of Hammurabi states: "eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth".

Episode 7

Tyme: An End Before a Beginning

Tyme's life overview pains me not because I fell madly in love with Jes over the course of this series airing or anything, his life beginning with emptiness and grief after the death of his parents. The trials and tribulations he experienced, from the loss of loved ones, growing up in poor conditions, a deep desire to earn a living to give his grandmother a better life, there are many aspects to Tyme's life that contributes to his passive nature, trickling into his professional and personal life from Den reminding him to treat his patients with humanity and his breakup with his ex girlfriend. We see this when he approaches Great and has sex with him in order to get a step closer to avenging his family, we see this when he confronts Chanin, we see this when he's willing for Samarn to take his life once Nan dies in their hands. However, the most vulnerable of Tyme comes out when he is told by Den about Great's condition at the hospital, which brings on immense guilt and grief for a relationship they could have had if their circumstances were different.

Episode 7

Episode 7

I appreciate that Den becomes a voice of reason, which lots of people had wonders about how big of a role he plays as a character within the grand scheme of things. I believe that Den's character has enough push and pull without being too directly involved and entangled with the main characters, since we know how dedicated Den is to his research as well as the health and well being of his patients. He becomes one of the few people outside of his grandmother that Tyme has trust over, as well as emotional safety in sharing his burden and thoughts about Great and his current state. Whether Den knows the full details of what both of them have been through, Den gives Tyme a sliver of hope for a better outcome, which I found interesting when he was having his conversation with Lukwa about what happens during her OOBE (out-of-body-experience).

Episode 7

What became the most significant for me was Tyme becoming in tune with expressing his deep emotions, which we witnessed him crying at various stages of this episode but with the same emotional baggage: when he witnessed Great's emergency surgery, when confiding in Den about his regret, asking Great for forgiveness by his bedside, and when he's running away from his aggressor before ultimately being shot dead.

For someone that has expressed very little emotion from the moment we were introduced to him as a character until the final few episodes, almost having a similar detachment and perceptual issues Great has, I could only imagine the intensity of his emotions during each moment of vulnerability. Not even 24 hours pass and Great is shot outside of his home after they had their argument and Tyme placed the blame for Nan's death on Great, Great entering a coma from his injury and Tyme dealing with the weight of responsibility for his physical state (whether it is actually his responsibility or not, sorrow will have its way and point him towards guilt), and while bleeding out, grieving for the death of his grandmother, the death of his parents that he can no longer avenge, him now having no chance of asking Great for his forgiveness and remaining an angry and betrayed person in memory. That honestly becomes an even worse punishment on top of what he had been through thus far in his life: the punishment of being dragged to your end without being able to embark on your beginning with the person you care about most.

Episode 7

Both him and Great enter the period of 4 minutes at 11:00PM, which makes me wonder if there will be a way for them to revive themselves if their timelines converge. Is there a possibility for them to call out for one another in their own imagined realities? Can their senses transcend such abnormal circumstances? If Tyme were paying attention to these details outlined in Den's research paper before getting shot, will he be able to use this knowledge to find his way back to Great? Will both of them be able to see one another in the gallery Lukwa saw Great in? Will they both live together or die together? So many questions that I hope we have the vital answers to once episode 8 is released.

This post feels like word soup LOL. I think it's just me having too much fun keeping up with other content while still trying to figure out how to lay this analysis out. If you made it to the end, thank you so much and I appreciate your time! If you're feeling extra generous: check out Xdinary Heroes's new song iNSTEAD! (esp if you like metalcore/rock). See y'all on Friday :)

[221beloved]

Lucky Charm

(Link to ao3)

"John?!" he heard Sherlock's voice from upstairs as soon as the front door was closed. John sighed, shaking his head as he climbed up the stairs, smiling fondly.

He was used to Sherlock's impatience, and he could've just sent a text to tell him he'd come a little later today.

John deposited the bags of takeaway on the kitchen table and went into the sitting room in search for Sherlock. He found him lounging on the sofa, feet dangling over the armrest, looking like a sulking child.

"You're late," he promptly accused without turning his eyes from the ceiling.

"I went to pick up dinner on my way back from work," John explained.

He went over to the sofa, looking down at Sherlock.

"And I got... distracted."

Now Sherlock did turn his gaze on John, looking at him with one arched eyebrow.

"I got distracted, too. I couldn't concentrate because you weren't there on time to give me my cuddle. I couldn't get anything done!"

John rolled his eyes. "Did I tell you that you're overly dramatic?"

Sherlock looked away pointedly.

"No. Never heard of such a thing. What a ludicrous thing to assume.”

"Yes, how silly of me. Now make some space, I've got something for you."

Sherlock's eyes snapped back to John and his body flinched slightly, as if he'd wanted to make space for John automatically, but repressed the reflex at the last second.

John sighed and unceremoniously lifted Sherlock's legs, sat down, and placed them back down on his lap.

"You don't want to see what it is that I've got for you?"

"Maybe," Sherlock mumbled, shifting his legs a bit so that his feet were pressed against John's belly.

"Well then." John reached into his pocket and got out his… present.

A little heart made out of glass, flat shaped, probably about the size of an inch, red and purple coloured stripes winding around it on the outside.

He held it out to Sherlock, who took it immediately and held it against the light.

John watched him, a little cautiously.

"I had to take another route to work today, and I saw that store when I went to work, and I just wanted to have a look on my way back, and then I saw this... well."

Sherlock's eyes went wide and he sat up slowly, holding the little heart in his palm.

"John," he breathed, the word full of wonder.

"I thought you could use it as a lucky charm, maybe? I know, silly, but I just liked it, so…"

"Thank you," Sherlock whispered and moved to straddle John's hips.

"Thank you!"

He wrapped his arms around John's back and buried his face in his neck.

"It's just a silly little heart of glass, Sherlock, nothing special..." John chuckled, a bit sheepishly.

Sherlock lifted his head to stare fiercely into John's eyes.

"It's a heart made of glass, John, and you gave it to me. It needs to be protected, needs to be kept warm."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"I'll keep it in my coat pocket, it'll always be with me."

John looked down, his cheeks and ears burning as if they were on fire.

"Don't you ever call me the romantic again," he muttered.

Sherlock frowned at him. "But you are the romantic. You bought it. It wasn't me who came home with that gift."

"Well, we're even then," John chuckled. "Let's have dinner, and then you can thank me properly." He wriggled his eyebrows.

Sherlock gave him a pleading look, but John shook his head.

"No chance." John took him by the hand and pulled him towards the kitchen.

"Dinner first!"

Sherlock muttered under his breath but followed John without further protest.

--

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[blackbat05]

Your Rock

Steven Grant x Reader

Plot: You’re knee deep in work and feel like nothing is working. Luckily, you have someone to give you a little TLC.

Genre: PG-13 (Themes of overworking)

A/N: Yet another self-indulgent fic along the same genre. Another loving Steven but this time it’s to tackle my final hurdle of uni. Reblogs appreciated!

For a split second, you felt like you were going to combust if you stared at the screen of your laptop for any longer.

The words that you wrote were starting to jumble and merge into one. You were becoming increasingly frustrated as you didn’t do as much as you hoped to do. Moreover, you felt lost and clueless if you were even writing the right things. For once, you just wanted your academic life to go well.

As the door opens, you give a muffled scream into the stuffed penguin you were holding for emotional support. Steven sees your frazzled state and can put two and two together. Placing the groceries on the counter, he makes his way to your side.

Like the sensitive man he was, Steven carefully pressed your shoulders, undoing the knots that formed since you sat at the kitchen for god knows how long. You groan as sign of thanks.

“Love, how long have you been at it?”

“I dunno, but I was really hoping to finish this part. So that I can move on to my other assignment.” You blinked blearily at him, belatedly noticing the dark skies outside your shared apartment.

“Did I-”

Steven senses that you’re about to enter a breakdown. He hugs you close, letting you feel his presence. Once your breathing settles, he releases you gently.

“I got ramen from the Japanese shop three blocks down. Do you want to eat with me?”

Steven’s offer was tantalizing but your overactive mind didn’t allow you to forget your tasks. “Steven, that sounds lovely but I still have-”

His expression changes to a determined one. “No. You’re eating and that’s final. When was the last time you had something to eat? Scratch that. Can you even remember what you had for lunch?”

Steven’s barrage of questions make you think but you come up with a blank. Your inability to answer means a small victory for him. He opens the takeaway bags, taking out two containers of ramen. Under his watchful eye, you clear your stuff away and realize the fatigue starting to kick in.

Placing a container in front of you, you see the big juicy scallops floating in the spicy broth. Steven has gotten you your favorite ramen and suddenly you can’t help but to get a little emotional which he notices as he sorts out his own meal.

“What’s wrong love? Not to your taste?”

You shake your head, giving a watery smile. “It’s perfect. You read my mind Steven. You always do.” Taking a deep exhale, you see him patiently waiting for you.

“It’s ok to feel this way love. It just means you care about it. But you have to take a break. It won’t run away from you, you’ll finish it eventually.” He tells you softly, but the weight of his words have an impact on you.

As always, Steven was the wise one in this relationship. The anchor. Or maybe because it was his experiences that made him stronger. Your respect and love for him grew immensely once again.

You get off your seat to hug him once more and you can’t imagine, what would a life be without Steven?

“Probably dull.”

“Huh?”

“If you didn’t crash into me in the lecture hall, your life would still have been mundane as ever.”

You pause for a moment before breaking into laughter. How could he read your mind so well?

“Hey! I didn’t crash into you! I was just… I was just-”

“Too busy looking at my adorable face?”

You pretend to gasp at his cheekiness. “Well look whose getting too confident! And here I was thinking who to bring for the ice cream buffet next week.”

“I’m sorry love! I just can’t help but to state the facts.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You slurp more noodles, tummy feeling satisfied. The haze in your brain slowly starts to clear and you start to feel the fatigue kick in. Steven notices this as he automatically clears the table once you were finished.

“Steven, I can do it. You bought the stuff.”

He waves you away. “Love, you had a long day. This is fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for our walk? And then we can head for breakfast?”

You nod, eager to take a break from that wretched computer of yours.

“Go to bed, I’ll be right behind you.”

You grab your things, preparing to head into the bedroom. You glance over your shoulder to see Steven washing the dishes with precision and placing the groceries into the cabinets.

You had no idea what you did to deserve him. He was always so willing to give, to support… he was simply your rock.

“Hey Steven?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[archduchessofnowhere]

Is it true that empress sissy was bad mother? Or just rumours

I think it really depends on what do you understand as being “a bad mother”. First of all royal women were not expected to be the main carers of their children: this job was divided among the many people in charge of the well-being of the kids. Parents usually only saw their kids little on a daily basis, since they did not even ate together. So one shouldn’t expect Elisabeth to have been changing diapers and heating milk bottles. The second thing to consider is just how young she was when she became a mother; giving birth to three consecutive babies in such a short time spam (with the additional stress of knowing everyone is expecting you to produce an heir) must have take a huge toll on her, so I don’t think is that surprising if she didn’t smoothly adjust to the role of mother.

Even so, she did love her children, as this letter she wrote to a Bavarian relative soon after the birth of her first child shows:

My little one really is already very charming and gives the Emperor and me enormous joy. At first it seemed very strange to me to have a baby of my own; it is like an entirely new joy, and I have the little one with me all day long, except when she is carried for a walk, which happens often while the fine weather holds. (Hamann, 1986)

But Elisabeth had no control in how her eldest children were raised: her mother-in-law, Archduchess Sophie, took charge of them. Something important to keep in mind, however, is that taking charge of them doesn’t mean that she personally cared them (again, this wasn’t the role of royal woman), but that she chose the staff of nursemaids, nannies, governesses and tutors that oversaw the children’s caring and later education. But this lack of control over her children ended up being a great source of sorrow for the young mother.

During this time the first big conflict between Elisabeth and Sophie arose: the children’s nursery was placed on the same floor as Sophie’s appartements, which meant that she could go over to see her granddaughters with a lot more of freedom than Elisabeth, whose appartements where on a different floor. Being on a different floor meant than she could only see her daughters during the times set by protocol, and always in company of her retinue of ladies and lackeys, which ended up limiting even more the time she could spend with them in privacy. She told to her lady-in-waiting Marie Festetics in 1872:

Only now do I understand what bliss a child means. Now I have finally had the courage to love the baby and keep it with me [her fourth child Marie Valerie]. My other children were taken away from me at once. I was permitted to see the children only when Archduchess Sophie gave permission. She was always present when I visited the children. Finally I gave up the struggle and went upstairs only rarely.

This statement comes from almost twenty-years after the events, so it should be taken with a bit of a grain of salt (in the first letter I quoted Elisabeth mentions that she had Baby Sophie with her “all day long”, so she wasn’t “taken away at once” as she claims here). The most important takeaway from this statement to me is that even after all those years the fact that she wasn’t allowed to see her girls freely hurt her. So it’s not surprising that her first act of “rebellion” at court was when she decided to move the nursery to her floor in 1856.

After successfully moving the nursery near to her appartements, slowly Sisi started to take more and more control of her children. At the end of 1856 Franz Josef and Elisabeth went on a state visit to Lombardy-Venice and they took Baby Sophie with them. This tour was relatively successful, and months later they tried to replicate its success on Hungary. For this tour the parents decided to take not only Baby Sophie but also Gisela, since it was planned to last two months and they didn’t want to be separated from their daughters for such a long time.

As it’s known, Baby Sophie sadly died of typhus during this trip. Although is often repeated that Archduchess Sophie blamed Elisabeth for the child’s death, she in fact was very sympathetic towards the young mother, since she also had lost an infant daughter and could understand her pain. But Elisabeth seemed to blame herself regardless, and soon fell into a deep depression that lasted months and filled her entire family with worry.

By the end of 1857 she showed signs of being pregnant again, and in September of 1858 she finally gave birth to the long awaited heir, Crown Prince Rudolf. And just as with her daughters, Elisabeth had no control over the boy’s upbringing.

In 1860 Elisabeth started to become ill - of what, nobody knew. I won’t go much into this (since that’s just an entirely different post), but by the end of the year, after exhausting all possible treatments, it was decided that the Empress should go away from court to recover from her mysterious illness. This was the beginning of Elisabeth’s two years trip - first to Madeira and then to Corfu. Franz Josef offered her to take Gisela with her, but since she couldn’t also take Rudolf (the heir had to remain in Vienna), she decided to leave her behind because she didn’t want to separate the siblings, who were very close (Winkelhofer, 2022).

Elisabeth returned a changed woman, much more confident in herself, no longer the shy girl who was easily intimidated by courtiers. But she still had no control over how her children were educated. Or that was until Rudolf started his formal education. At the age of six he was separated from his sister and governess, given his own household, and Count Gondrecourt was assigned as his tutor. Gondrecourt had the mission of “toughening up” the boy, since he was considered to be weak of mind; his method to achieve this consisted in psychologically torturing Rudolf, and after he fell ill, seemingly of a nervous collapse. When Elisabeth discovered what her son was going through she was horrified and decided to step in. So she did something almost unprecedented, not only for her personally, but also in general for a woman of her status: she gave her husband an ultimatum:

I wish to have reserved to me absolute authority in all matters concerning the children, the choice of the people around them, the place of their residence, the complete supervision of their education, in a word, everything is to be left entirely to me to decide, until the moment of their majority. I further wish that, whatever concerns my personal affairs, such as, among others, the choice of the people around me, the place of my residence, all arrangements in the house etc. be reserved to me alone to decide.

Even more surprisingly for the time, Franz Josef agreed, and gave her full control of the children’s education. Gondrecourt was dismissed and Colonel Josef Latour was personally chosen by Elisabeth in his place. Latour was highly unpopular at court because he wasn’t an aristocrat and had very liberal political ideas, but Elisabeth protected him and he kept his job. Latour ended up becoming a close friend to his pupil until his death. But even though she now had what she had always wanted, total control of her children’s upbringing, she never became really close to her eldest daughter and son.

This is the part in which we can talk about her being “a bad mother”. When you compare her relationship to her fourth and last child, Marie Valerie, born ten years after Rudolf out of her desire to have another baby, raised entirely by her (as always keeping in mind that this means she had full control of the staff that took care of Valerie), to how she was with Gisela and Rudolf, the clear favoritism is evident. It seems that she felt more distant towards the eldest, probably a combination of her not having a saying in their upbringing until they were older and her constant trips away from court didn’t help her to close the gap. Gisela, who was a very down-to-earth person, a lot like her father, doesn’t seem to have minded this (or at least she never showed it), but Rudolf always craved for a close relationship with his mother, which he never could truly have. He adored her and was always grateful for her intervention when he was little, but seeing how all his mother’s love and attention went towards Valerie made Rudolf jealous of his younger sister; because of this the siblings also never managed to become close.

Valerie ended up feeling overwhelmed by her mother’s love. Elisabeth was very emotionally dependent on her daughter and made her her constant companion and support, which isolated the girl from the rest of her family. Valerie adored her father and felt that her mother put her against him, and Elisabeth insistance in raising her as a Hungarian (Valerie’s mother tongue wasn’t German, but Hungarian) made her hate Hungary. She turned out to be quite different to what her mother had planned, and that was probably just the result of having so many expectations imposed on her since she was born. But even so Elisabeth loved her and only wanted her to be happy. And this is shown by the fact that (unlike Queen Victoria with her daughter Beatrice) she didn’t want her to stay by her side forever, but to marry for love and form her own family. So she supported her decision to marry Archduke Franz Salvator, who out of all her suitors was the least favorite (Franz Josef wanted her to marry the Crown Prince of Saxony and Rudolf Archduke Eugen).

So was she a bad mother? It’s complicated. She loved her children (and I do think she loved all of them, despite Gisela being often considered the “forgotten” child), fought to have control on how to raise them (which was unusual for the time) and when she lost them she deeply grieved them. But she couldn’t be the support that her son needed, and the child she did gave her constant love felt suffocated. Sometimes an answer isn’t as a easy as yes or not, and I think we should keep that in mind when looking at Elisabeth as a mother. I hope you find my answer helpful, and sorry if it’s too long!

SOURCES:

Hamann, Brigitte (1986). The Reluctant Empress: A Biography of Empress Elisabeth of Austria (translation by Ruth Hein)

Winkelhofer, Martina (2022). Sissi. La vera storia. Il camino della giovane imperatrice (translation by Federica Saccucci)

[mlmxreader]

Long Nights | Tomas Vrbada x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ "You can start by trying to get closer to me - I don't bite" and "No! Not the puppy dog eyes!" with Smoke and M reader, please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ Tomas had had quite the day, and the only thing he wants to do is to be with his boyfriend.

: ̗̀➛ smoking, swearing, but mostly just domestic fluff

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

It was freezing when Smoke got through the door, shivering and tugging his hoodie ever closer as he kicked his boots off and locked the door behind him; in the darkness, all was quiet.

A small brown mouse ran across the hallway and stowed away inside the hoover cupboard, but it made no sound and kept itself to itself.

He had had a hard day, if he was honest, and coming back to something so quiet, so mundane, was more than a welcomed sensation. His shoulders slowly lost their tension as he made his way to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes to try and push the sleep from himself for only a moment.

He reached for the pouch of tobacco, pulling it closer before he grabbed a paper and a filter; deft fingertips rolled a thin and less than satisfactory cigarette, but it was smokeable and that was all that mattered.

Taking a long drag, Smoke sighed heavily as he closed his eyes for a moment and allowed the nicotine to work itself into his system fully; his chest fell, and he hummed softly as he tilted his head back to try and get rid of the yawn bubbling in his throat.

When he brought himself back, staring at the darkened kitchen, he could only smile. He was home, now. He had time to actually be with his boyfriend and to act like a normal man for once. He was glad of it, really.

Especially when he saw you coming over to see him, wearing his charcoal grey soft dressing gown and a pair of light blue woollen socks; he held out his arm, tilting his head slightly as a gesture for you to get closer.

"Anything I can do?"

"You can start by trying to get closer to me - I don't bite," Smoke mused, welcoming you against his side and holding you close as he let out a quiet hum. "You alright?"

You nodded, taking his cigarette and stealing a drag. "Yeah, not bad... you?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. "Just tired."

You let out a sigh, light grey smoke streaming from the corner of your mouth as you handed the cigarette back and leaned into him; Smoke was never particularly warm, but nor was he particularly cold to the touch, either.

Somewhere between the middle, and somehow just perfect for you to snuggle against him, closing your eyes and drowning in his quiet presence.

In the way he held you so tightly and securely against his body, and how he gently drummed his fingers against your bicep as he steadily breathed between drags from his cigarette. It was a nasty habit, both of you were well aware of that, but it was calming and it was something that you had almost picked up from one another.

He didn't smoke much before he met you, maybe the odd one every week or so. But he didn't mind, it helped to take the edge off when he had to deal with Bi-Han; just step outside for a quick puff, listen to the birds and feel the nicotine flood his system.

He relaxed fully, leaning slightly against you so that you were propping one another up, but he couldn't help it when he nudged you slightly so that you caught his gaze; with a flash of his puppy dog eyes, he was about to open his mouth when you got there first.

"No! Not the puppy dog eyes!" You laughed quietly, gently. The sound vibrating through to him. "My one weakness!"

"Do you want to get a takeaway?" He asked, still flashing those lovesick puppy dog eyes like his life depended on it.

You nodded, pulling away from him to grab your phone; with a yawn and a stretch, you opened it and went to the webpage of the local chip shop. "What'd you fancy, then?"

"Get two of whatever you want," he started, "same with sides. I'll just share."

You cocked your brow, tilting your head to the side. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Smoke hummed, daring to laugh softly. "I'm just hungry, I don't mind."

You shrugged, adding what you wanted and doubling it before pressing order; it took a moment for the page to refresh and tell you that the order had been confirmed. It would take about an hour, but that was more than usual really.

You stuffed your phone into your pocket, letting out a soft yawn. "Done... you wanna grab the duvet and make a nest in the front room?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Smoke admitted, stubbing his cigarette out before daring to move past you; he stopped for a second, gently kissing your temple before moving towards the bedroom again.

You smiled, putting your phone on charge in the living room and turning the light on; you grabbed the cushions and pillows, laying then out on the floor to create a makeshift mattress with a headboard made of the sofa. You all but grinned, helping Smoke to lay the duvet out properly when he returned with it along with the other pillows from the bed.

Snuggling down, you found yourself leaning into his side again as you smiled and sighed contently.

"What should we watch?"

"Something with Johnny Cage?"

You grabbed the television remote and clicked the button so the screen showed the programme schedule; there was one film, one of Smoke's favourites, a black comedy-horror about a rich man - the embodiment of yuppie culture and the privilege of the rich and white - who killed people and did abhorrent things.

He loved to talk about the meaning of the film and how it was both a criticism and satire on society and how it was explicitly calling out the rich, white men in positions of power and how they were just disgusting on every level.

So you clicked it, and smiled.

"Your favourite," you told him. "It should start once the adverts are over."

[w0lfinsheepscl0thing]

Rating Song Spotify Picks for 1899 Characters (1/2)

I shuffled my liked songs (the most vast playlist I have), then analyzed them to see how well the lyrics or overall vibe matches the character. Here's how it went!

Maura - Cigarette Daydreams (Cage The Elephant)

Strong start! I think this actually isn’t far off from Maura, and the theme of loss can tie back to Elliot, relating to Elliot’s condition slowly getting worse, but Muara’s struggle because of it going up alongside it. The themes of there being a physical closeness but emotional detachment make me think of Maura’s possible relationship with Daniel throughout all of it. There are definitely some takeaways, but I think I’ll give this a solid 7/10!

Daniel - House Of The Rising Sun (The Animals’ version)

Now, Daniel doesn’t waste his life away in the House of the Rising Sun which is widely understood to be a brothel, but if you really try, you can make the house out to represent the simulation. It doesn’t directly relate back to him, but you cannnnn see it as wasting time in a perfect world instead of facing the reality of 2099 (if that really is reality…). I’ll go with 4/10.

Eyk - You Get Me So High (The Neighborhood)

I can see this relating back to Sara, because I like to believe that she and Eyk deeply loved each other before she passed, regardless of Maura’s later connection. However, this song is about the high and intoxicating part of being with someone who understands you and it being taken away, I don’t think that’s exactly what they had. The latter part, though, can resemble their connection being broken when Eyk’s work gets in the way, and I think that’s worth something. 5/10.

Ángel - Please Please Please (Sabrina Carpenter)

I think out of anyone on this list, this applies to Ramiro, not Ángel. The overall tone doesn’t match (I’d be more convinced if it was the acoustic version), but the idea of ‘keep yourself together’ makes me think of Ángel having to keep his head down and Ramiro enforcing that. But this just isn’t it; I save so many songs that encapsulate Ángel, and this just doesn’t do it for me! 3/10!

Ramiro - The Killing Moon (Echo & the Bunnymen)

This is an amazing pick! While the song encapsulates the show with its core theme being the meaning of life, the verse reminds me of Ramiro with Ángel, depicting some being taking the protagonist by force. In my head, this makes me think of an early reluctance to love and Ángel cutting to the chase. I could be reading into this too much, with this song and the others, but I’ll give this a 7/10 for effort!

Ling Yi - A Different Age (Current Joys)

I’ve said it five times and I’ll say it again: I can see the vision, and I believe it can go back to Ling Yi and her mother. She wants to leave their harbor and see more things, which eventually leads her to make big mistakes. Yuk Je, and her eyes, cannot understand this like she can because she has lived a safe life as a prostitute to provide for the two of them; Yuk Je bottles herself, Ling Yi does not. But by the end of episode three, Ling Yi starts to want to change, sort of going back to “And I wish I could change, but I’ll probably just stay the same”. 6/10 for effort.

Yuk Je - Eleanor Rigby (The Beatles)

It was bound to give me a Beatles song at some point with my music taste! But I do not see the vision. You could argue that Yuk Je is one of the many lonely people, surrounded by people but only remembered by her daughter, but I believe that’s as close as the story of this song and that of hers collide. Great song, though! 3/10 because I have a Beatles bias.

Jérôme - The Bug Collector (Haley Heynderickx)

Yeah, I don’t think so. The story in this song shows someone trying to make their partner feel safe while also teaching them to enjoy the world, and nothing comes to mind relating Jérôme or others in his journey. I’ll give this a 1/10 because I can’t find anything that may relate to him.

Clémence - Advice (Alex G)

Interesting! I would say it could resemble Clémence confronting Lucien, but the narrator truly cares about the person receiving the Advice, and the rest speaks for itself. I feel like I’m missing something, but other than that, 2/10!

Lucien - Stress Relief (late night drive home)

I don’t think it’s impossible to associate this song with Lucien, but I can’t. I’ll cut to the chase: 1/10.

I think I was hoping for shocking responses, but this bunch isn’t too bad! Cigarette Daydreams rightfully earned first place for this half of my list of characters, and we’ll see what arises next shuffle!

[magicalara]

Red Thoughts

Aka a blob of my biggest thoughts on Madam Red and Grelle because there were and always will be the best ship in Black Butler. This is dedicated to @pop-roxs both as an apology and because I was supposed to do a redcliffe analysis anyways and then things happened so yeah. This is for you Water, you absolute cool legend

Enjoy everyone!

Grelle Sutcliff and Angelina Dalles were never meant to love each other. In every lifetime, in every iteration, in every timeline- these two were never meant to be. Controversial, I know, but let me explain.

When we're introduced to Madam Red and Grelle in the red butler arc, they're the eccentric aunt and useless butler, nothing more, nothing less. As time goes on, we learn more about Ann and her life that she believes was taken away from her. We learn about her affection for Ciel and how, as much as she wants to love him for being the family she has and the last part of her sister that's left, all that she can feel is resentment as he also represents the life that she never got due to her sister marrying the love of her life. The main takeaways from Grelle before her transforming into the reaper we now know and love is that she's just a useless butler. She's meant to take the most unassuming role she can in order for her and Ann's murder time to go off without a hitch. That's literally it.

Then they get found out by Ciel and Sebastian and all of the backstory starts to fall into place.

Ann is grieving; she never stopped, even three years after the back to back death of her baby, her husband, and her sister and her family. When her baby and husband died, she didn't allow herself to grieve as she should have. And just when she might have gotten to a place where she could physically start to pick herself back up, the world that didn't seem like it could get any bleaker went pitch black with the fire at the Phantomhive manor. Overnight, Ann lost her sister, the love of her life, and her nephews to boot. She could barely stand to lose her baby and husband, how was she supposed to recover from this?

Her resent grew and grew until, as we know, Ann started killing. She was Madam Red, doctor and social figure, during the day and a murderer, one who wanted to take from others what the world had taken from her, by night. It's only natural that someone who wouldn't- practically couldn't- allow herself to properly feel be able to be manipulated so easily. There were sharks in the water, and her blood was the easiest to detect.

In comes the shark, Grelle Sutcliff: grim reaper obviously not happy with the person they are and has no idea how to compensate for that without making it their whole personality. Grelle says that she felt for Ann, missing the piece that would make her a true woman in the eyes of the world just as she was. Grelle claimed she saw a piece of herself in Madam Red and wanted to help her, intrigue taking over and ending with her abandoning the dispatch for years and breaking the rules of her organization. I'm not saying that she lied, but that's exactly what I'm saying.

Grelle was already unstable, Ann's similar state of unstableness just made it all the more useful when it came to using her. Grelle probably felt alive with Ann, in either a platonic or romantic sense. With this mortal, she didn't have to worry about the weight of a life. The only list was those who threw away the link between the Rippers, not one full of boring collections bound by rules and regulations. Sure, she had to trade her blood red hair in for a more human look, but Ann wouldn't leave her; she needed Grelle just as much as Grelle needed her.

All of this to get to the point that they used each other. That's all that it was meant to be. The universe never meant for them to fall in love, it meant for them to slowly kill each other until someone fell; the ironic part is that they did fall, just in a different way. Grelle fell first, and Madam Red fell harder. Them falling in love wasn't meant to happen, but they did, and what would be a more ultimate punishment than forcing you to kill your loved one?

It was a game that the two played- who would kill the other first. It was inevitable that Grelle kill Ann because (besides the obvious immortality reason) Grelle threw Ann off the deep end. They enabled each other's rage and, while Grelle would be able to rehabilitate to some degree, Ann would never be able to. Ann's fire never burned out, rather, it raged on, and continues to rage on in Ciel and Grelle. Ciel still remembers the hesitation of his aunt and as much as the brat may want to say that he didn't care about her, he very much did so. He regrets her death, even if he knows it was always going to happen. Ciel carries the weight of Ann's life in his heart, and will continue to do so until he either frees himself of his revenge or dies (this is part of the reason why I want Madam Red to come back as a bizarre doll, I want to see this child suffer), but I digress. Grelle carries Ann with her, physically, with her coat and, emotionally, by doing the one thing Ann never could: moving on.

They lived and worked with each other for three years. Ann and Grelle enabled each other's rage for three years. Ann died filled with that rage. Grelle killed her as an impulse through that rage. Grelle thought about that rage while she was locked up and let it pass through. Grelle moved on from the rage that Ann passed away holding on to. She keeps the coat as a reminder to not succumb to the rage again, lest she lose another person who understood her.

Is this a mess and this last part probably doesn't make sense? Yes. Regardless, my point is that Ann and Grelle enabled each other and it's because of this that they never were meant to fall in love to begin with. The universe played a cruel trick on them and, in the end, Grelle was able to feel the weight of a life, choosing to continue to carry that weight with her as a reminder of what it feels like. This relationship is vast and complex and one day I will conquer it and reach the peak of the mountain. Unfortunately, it is 10 PM and I have work tomorrow, so today is not that day. Until next time, my friends, this has been another one of Em's analyses.

[atlasscrumpit]

Across the Spiderverse x reader

(this is kinda messy) 

Peter stared at the newest addition to the spider society.

"She's pretty different to anyone we've had." Peter muttered as Miguel looked at you.

"Yeah, in her universe it's still the 1600's. She was about to kill someone but it wasn't apart of her canon so I had to stop her. If I'm being honest... I would've liked to see her kill the asshole priest she was dealing with." Miguel grumbled as Peter looked at him in confusion.

You began coming closer to then after Lyla gave you the run down of the place.

"I don't want to go back." You whispered as Miguel looked at you sadly.

"I know, but you need to. If you don't, a lot of bad things can happen to you and those around you. But, you're apart of the society now, whenever we need you we can call on you. You're not alone anymore, Y/N." Miguel said with a small smile, you returned his smile.

"Thank you, Miguel."

--

It had been four months since you'd seen Miguel and you hadn't stopped thinking about him or the society.

You had abilities, similar to other spider people. But, you didn't bother being a hero.

You mainly just used it to make your life easier.

One day while you were out foraging for berries you heard a noise and turned to see Miguel.

You dropped the basket full of berries and ran for him.

"Miguel! Do you need me!? Do we have to save a universe?" You asked with excitement as he sighed.

"No, everything is pretty stable right now. But, it's been a while and I thought I was check up on you." He said as you smiled.

"Can I come back to the society for a while? Or maybe another universe. I'm really hungry." You muttered, Miguel did notice you had lost a lot of weight since the last time he saw you.

"Sure, kid. Come on, I know a good place." He said holding out his hand.

In a few minutes you found yourself sitting in a takeaway store with Miguel.

"Everyone looks so...different. Especially they're clothes." You muttered making Miguel chuckle softly.

You sat with him trying as much as you could, you knew it was going to have terrible effects later but you didn't care.

After you were done you went back to the society with Miguel for a bit.

While he was looking at his computer and mumbling about something you slowly began to take off your dress.

When Miguel turned around again you were completely naked in front of him.

"Y/N! Oh god!" He muttered, turning away, he grabbed yiur dress off the ground and covered your body.

"Is this not how you wanted me to repay you?" You asked as he looked at you sadly.

"Y/N... No, not at all. You don't need to repay me." He said before he began to notice the odd scarring on your body.

He moved your dress away a little to look at the wounds.

"Y/N, what are all these marks from?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"It doesn't matter." You muttered quickly grabbing your dress from him and getting it back on.

"Take me home." You muttered before Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder.

"I can take you home if you want, but I can also listen if you need." He whispered in a soft tone as you looked up at him.

"It happened when I got the abilities." You muttered as he looked at you with confusion.

"It scarred your skin?" He asked before you looked away a little.

"No... My village found out and the priest wanted to prove that I was the devil because of my abilities. They stripped me, tied my arms above my head so my feet were barely on the ground and let the entire village watch. The priest bright out a bucket with holy water, I was confused because the priest was wearing gloves. He assured everyone it was incase he touched my devilish skin. I wasn't afraid, because I'm not a demon and it was just holy water. But... He began splashing it on my skin and I soon realised why he was wearing gloves. It wasn't water, it was acid. I started screaming in pain as the towns people watched my skin melt, bit by bit. It went on for a while... Before they were going to kill me I escaped." You muttered, not daring to look at Miguel.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry." He whispered as you wiped away your tears quickly.

"I know spider people have to lose something... Mine was a bit different, I lost my beauty, I lost my home, my friends and my dignity." You muttered before Miguel slowly wrapped his arms around you.

Your eyes slowly closed eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

"We've all lost something here, that just means we aren't alone in this. That includes you, kid. You have a family here now." He whispered as you smiled softly.

"Thank you, Miguel."

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x student!reader - trespassing innocently

Hello! I'm glad you keep writing. I like your stories very much. 💜 So I also have a request for you. Would you like to write a Evershed x teenage Reader story? Mister Evershed finds out that a homeless teenager is sleeping at school at night and disappears in time for the school to start every day. He confronts reader and tries to help. Thanks 😊 - Anon💜

If there was one thing you knew about the Ackley bridge, it was which building lacked any decent security, which for the most part was nearly all of them.

But the only building with food, and access to showers and running warm water was the school, and it wasn’t hard to keep breaking into it.

Unlike the other schools, since Ackley bridge wasn’t as posh or well funded as them, it had next to no security measures in place, which made it easier for you.

It was easy enough to slip in at the end of the day before the last of the teachers went home, and easy enough for you to leave in the morning.

Before moving into the people you spent time carefully watching it, creating rough timeframes for you to be able to come and go as you pleased.

There had been a few close calls but you managed to get out undetected.

And it had become a shelter for you during the harsh winter, somewhere warm for you to hide out.

And today was no different, you made your way over the shut gates, and you jogged over to the school, walking around for the usual door you came through.

It was easy enough to get open, since it never shut properly anyway.

Shivering a little bit, you rubbed your hands together and blew into them, trying to bring some of the warmth back to your fingers.

The lights were off, and you slowly started to make your way down the hallways towards the locker rooms where you hid.

“Why have you been breaking into my school?”

You jumped, letting out a small shriek you spun around and stared at the man who was shining a torch at you.

He had been hiding in one of the classrooms and you just walked right past him.

“You’re just a teenager…” he whispered in disbelief.

“Don’t call the cops man I’m going, I won’t come back.”

You began to back away from him.

“No, we’re going to talk about this. You’re not one of my students.”

“Look, I’m going forget about it.”

You looked around, trying to map your way around in your head so you could find the closest exit.

“Why do you keep coming back to the school? What’s your name?”

“I ain’t dumb man, I’m not giving you my name.”

“Alright I’ll start, I’m Mr Evershed.”

“Still ain’t having it.”

“Look we have months worth of footage of you coming in after everyone goes, I just want to talk that’s all. Please?” Mr Evershed asked.

You back up another few steps and you glanced out the corner of your eye to the fire escape at the far end of the hallway.

“Please it’s cold outside, if you need a place to stay we can find you one.”

Without another word to him you ran straight back out into the rain, going to find somewhere else to stay.

You settled for archways under closed shops, a bridge, some equipment in some parks.

And that’s how the next few weeks went for you, you actually avoided that school and everyone inside it.

As you were settling under an archway, you heard the sound of someone approaching and you jumped up.

“I’ve been trying to find you, you’re really hard to find you know.”

“Oh it’s you.”

You sat back down and looked at the man approaching, umbrella in one hand, and a takeaway cup in the other hand.

Mr Evershed smiled at you and held the cup out to you.

“Don’t take food or drinks from strangers, no offence or ought.”

“No it’s alright I understand, are you hungry?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Alright, here, if you are.”

He set the cup down and pulled some change out of his pocket and held his hand out to you.

You looked at him and narrowed your eyes a little bit and he nodded his head.

“Go on, it’s alright.”

You reached out your hand to him, and he gave you the change, and you quickly hid it in your bag, and then looked back up at him.

“Do you have anywhere you can go?”

“Well obviously if I did I wouldn’t be sat here in the rain would I?” You snapped.

“Right, yes. Sorry. I meant is there somewhere dry you can stay? A hostel? Anything like that?”

“Again, same answer moron.”

“Alright, no need for that.”

Mr Evershed sighed and he looked around.

“Come on, it’s freezing out here, can we at least go get you some stuff from the shops, more clothes or blankets.”

“No use they’ll get ruined.”

“That’s fine, you’ll at least be warm enough.”

You narrowed your eyes a little but at him, and he offered you a gentle smile.

“Come on, I don’t want to see a teenager out here freezing like this. I understand you won’t come with me, but what if I get you a few things?”

You finally agreed and went with him to one of the more busier shops, and he helped you look for warmer things, a jacket, a couple of blankets, some food and some bottles of water.

Mr Evershed helped you carry them out and he looked around.

“I can’t let you back into that school, but maybe we can find somewhere for you to stay tonight?” He asked.

“It’ll be fine, thanks though.”

He glanced down at you.

“I can’t let you just walk away.”

“You can’t force me to go with you neither. So, later Evershed.”

With that you took the bag and ran away from him.

Every so often he would be able to seek you out again, usually once or twice a week, and after three weeks he found you laid on a bench in the rain.

“I got you a tent for a reason.”

“Some kids destroyed it.”

You looked up at him and sat up, running a hand over your face to clear the water.

“So, what up Evershed?”

“You ready to tell me your name yet?”

“Nope.”

He sighed a little and held up a bag of food and drinks for you, and you set it next to you on the bench.

He walked over and looked down at you.

“Come on, I hate knowing your out here living on the streets, I just want to help you. Maybe we can get in touch with your school?”

“Don’t go to school, never got enrolled.”

Mr Evershed sighed and nodded his head and he held out a bit of paper.

“my phone number in case you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”

You took the paper and stuff it into your pocket.

“It’s not so bad when you get used to it I guess.”

“How about joining the school then?”

You laughed.

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if it means getting inside for hours?”

“Yeah no I’ll pass.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind you know how to get in touch.”

You nodded and he left, leaving the umbrella with you.

And it was a while before he saw you again, it was late February when he saw you lingering outside the school gate as students were leaving.

They looked at you and laughed, and talked, and you looked at the headteacher before spinning around and walking away.

Mr Evershed excused himself and jogged down to the gate and looked around but couldn’t find you.

Then after he left he searched all the normal spots for you to no avail, and as he was about to head home he got a notification on his phone.

He looked at it and chuckled a little.

Getting in his car, he made his way back to the school and walked in to find you laying on the chairs In reception.

“I told you stop breaking in.”

“You upgraded your cameras.”

“I did, because somebody keeps sneaking in.”

You grinned a little up at him and sat up, pushing your hood down and you looked up at him.

You were covered in dirt, and Mr Evershed sighed, sitting next to you.

“You’ve been missing.”

“Yeah been hanging around edge of town away from people.”

“Trouble?”

You glanced at the concerned man.

“Nah, just to many people you know with Christmas and all having been.”

He hummed and nodded his head.

“So why did you break in trouble?”

You smiled a little.

“There’s a huge storm coming, I was hoping maybe to hide here till it passes?”

“Can’t let you do that you know that.”

You sighed and nodded it, standing up as you tossed your hood up.

“Thought I’d ask, thanks anyways.”

You started to walk away.

“You know, I’ve got a spare room. And food. And heating.”

You stopped.

“Just until the storm passes?”

“You got a shed?”

“I have a shed.”

“I’ll take the shed.”

He smiled and led you out, gesturing to his car and you shook your head.

“I need to get my stuff, can I meet you there?”

“You’ll come?”

“Promise you.”

He nodded his head and told you his address and before he got in his car you stopped him.

“My names (Y/N), see you later Evershed.”

With that you ran away from him and he smiled.

It wasn’t much but it was a start for now at least, you would be out of the way of the storm, and maybe he could help you more if you let him

[bloodyknucklesforme]

remember how I said I wanted to do an AU where Johnny survives MWIII but is in a coma and Nina has to take care of him? Here's a random snippet

Nina drummed her fingers against the desk, staring hard at the question on her computer screen. It was only a practice test but her anxiety shot up with each question. It seemed dumb really considering everything.

"You don't happen to know the answer do you?" she asked, turning to look at Johnny. It had been three months since the 'accident', which was the only way she could refer to it, and he'd been unconscious since then. She'd done her best to keep his hair the way he liked it but it had gotten a little long as of late. Even with the weight loss she wasn't strong enough to hold him up long enough to cut it. Same with bathing but that required even more movements. That's why Kyle was on his way over.

She got through three more questions before Kyle knocked on the door. She'd given him a key but he still knocked before coming into the flat.

"Hey, love. How are you doing?" He pulled her into a hug as soon as the door shut. "You eat today?"

He had a bag of takeaway in his hand, just in case. She'd lost weight too.

"I did actually. I made a chicken salad," she assured, taking the bag away and putting it in the kitchen. "Thank you, though. We can eat after Johnny's bath."

"You know how eager I am to get to that." Kyle chuckled.

Nina entered the bedroom first. It wasn't really a bedroom anymore. Their bed had been replaced with a hospital bed. IVs, heart rate monitors and other devices crowded around him instead of the usual pillows and plushes.

"Johnny, Kyle's here to see you." She'd been told it was good to keep talking to him, let him know who was in the room.

"Hey mate, still sleeping?" Kyle sat in the spare chair next to the bed, he squeezed Johnny's hand. "If you don't wake up soon, I might have to steal your girl. Don't mean any disrespect but she did convince me to come over to help bathe you so she might already have me wrapped around her finger."

Nina laughed and rolled her eyes as she logged out of the practice test.

"How's studying going?"

"Okay," she shrugged.

"I do have this weird rash if you could take a look?" He jokingly started pulling up the side of his shirt. "If you're going to be a nurse, I will take advantage."

Nina waved him off, giggling.

"It is impressive, what you're doing." A look of earnestness coming over his face. "Minus the whole coma, he's pretty lucky to have you."

"It's a vegetative state." She corrected. "He has involuntary muscle movements and his eyes move a bit during painful stimuli."

"You have been studying."

"It's a little funny that the method used to determine how severe his condition is is called the Glasgow Coma Scale."

"Doesn't surprise me that's where they'd do the most research to head trauma."

"If he can hear you, he'd be very offended."

"I'm about to wash his arse. He can piss off."

"I just need you to hold him up. I'll wash his arse."

"You really are an angel."

Kyle was a good helper, it was the solider in him. He took every order of hers without question. Didn't bring up how she would steal kisses against Johnny's skin as she finished each section. He talked to Johnny, cracking jokes and letting him know recent football scores.

She couldn't say that it had gotten easier caring for Johnny. She had help, a nurse came to change his IVs, catheter and feeding tube. She was only taking the nursing classes so she could do it on her own. Simon and Kyle had warned her about burnout, offering to watch him so she could sleep or even just leave the flat for a walk. His mum and sister came down twice a month or more.

It just ate at her, that something would happen if she dared to cross the threshold. He had improved, albeit slowly but that could change any time. The brain was just a fickle thing. If he took a turn for the worse, she wanted to be there.

She never told anyone but some nights she curl up between his legs and rest her head on his thigh, a hand rubbing across his stomach. She hoped he knew she was there. That she hadn't left him. She would wait for him. If he woke up tomorrow she'd be the first person he saw.

"You ready to cut his hair, now?" Kyle asked. They were both sweaty and a little tired. She looked at Johnny. His hair did look strange with the over grown mohawk and fuzzy sides. She did like how his hair curled a little. He did need a shave but she could do that on her own.

"I think it's okay for now," She ran her hand over his forehead. "Let's eat."

Kyle had picked up Greek. They ate with the bedroom with Johnny. They had a football match playing on the telly. It felt almost normal.

"You're doing a good job." Kyle kissed the top of her head, having pulled her into another hug by the door. "If you need anything. Call me. And I'm begging you to at least sleep on the couch instead of that cot. Can't do much if your back is fucked."

"I'll try. Thank you Kyle." She missed being held like this. "I love you."

"Love you too." He gave her another quick kiss on the crown of her head before heading off.

Back in the bedroom she turned on some of Johnny's favorite music and opened her lap top to continue her test.