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ramblingautisticman · 7 months ago

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So, I haven't stopped thinking about the dyslexic Wade headcannon- like at all- so here is the second part/expansive of this post!

I really like the idea of him being really insecure about it but slowly accepting it more and being more open about it.

I also wrote from my experience, and I'm not officially diagnosed don't come at me, but I struggle alot with reading and writing so yeah!

Anyway, enjoy. Please. I hope everyone likes this as much as I do!

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It isn't that Wade can't read- or that he doesn't want to- it's more that it's a massive fucking struggle. Most of the time anyway.

He's always had trouble reading (and spelling, but he can avoid that with emojis now! How technology grows!) ever since he was a kid.

And maybe it's because he didn't grow up in a great environment, or maybe it's because he was never really encouraged, but Wade never ever mentions it. Not to anyone.

He never told anyone when he was in school that sometimes words didn't really make sense to him, and that he was behind in work because of it, not because he would sit and talk (though he did that too). He never told anyone that he preferred art over english because it was easier to understand a picture to him than it was words. He never told anyone that he struggled to spell simple words like "bakery" and "shopping" but could spell "because" and "beautiful" because of a stupid rhyme he had heard once.

It was just something he had grown up with- something he had assumed other kids dealt with- u til he got to high school. Suddenly, he was surrounded by people writing 3000 word essays like they were nothing and people reading 200 page books during lunch, all while Wade still hadn't finished a single book he owned. While Wade still struggled to understand words that weren't in a specific font or colour- something he had realised shortly after turning 10- and everyone around him could just do it. They didn't take 10 minutes to finish a page of a book. They didn't get headaches from the concentration he had to use while staring at a page trying to figure out if the word "wandering" was spelt correctly. They didn't struggle to read the teachers writing because of the cursive writing. They could all just do it and Wade had to just sit and try.

Naturally, people noticed that he would read slowly and awkwardly when they read aloud in class, or that his work always came back covered in red pen from where he had misspelled simple words. He quickly became a target for bullying. Honestly, he probably wouldn't feel as self conscious as he does if that hadn't happened. If teachers had just stepped in and helped- noticed that something was wrong- he would've gotten some help and grown up with accommodations that would've helped him succeed. But he didn't get any of that. He got bullied for reading slowly and being dumb. He got kicked and punched because he had been spotted reading a book meant for younger kids (big mistake).

Wade tried. He did. He read books as often as he could to try and make his brain click- and it never worked. He would try and spell random words- and sometimes he got them and sometimes he didnt- and eventually he gave up. Eventually he succumbed to the voice in his head telling him he was stupid and that he was just going to have to go through life suffering.

And as he got older, he figured out stuff that helped and stuff that didn't. He managed to find a few fonts that helped, a few overlays that made it easier, and a few things to remind him how to spell certain words he usually struggled with.

He also got better at hiding it. Wade would tell people he preferred calls over text. He would open birthday cards and smile at the writing even if he couldn't quiet make out what it said. He would avoid anything that involved him reading in public.

And again, not because he couldn't read, but because it might take him alittle longer than it should, and the idea people would notice made his stomach fill with anxiety, sending him right back to being that scrawny kid I high-school who got beaten up every lunch time.

All of that only got worse after his accident. Well, the cancer and the torture and the murders, but ya know.

Now people were staring at him anyway. People would look and gasp and gawk as he walked down the street or went to the store to get groceries. Everywhere he went people stared. Everywhere.

So instead of being slightly worried people would notice him focusing too hard on reading, he was fully aware people were staring at him constantly because of his skin, and he liked to avoid giving them anymore reasons to stare.

To his suprise though, moving in with Al had helped. She was the only person he had told, and she was the only person who seemed to understand, telling him about something called dyslexia and telling him that his brain just worked alittle different than his. Then proceeded to pass out after using the last of her cocaine- but the thought was still there.

And she didn't seem to mind that he read alittle slower sometimes, because she still asked him to read her mail to her, and sometimes write letters or cards. Wade would have to ask her how to spell the words, but she never seemed to get angry about it, and she always seemed to know how to spell them. Plus, if anyone noticed it wasn't spelt right, they could blame it on her being blind (how was the recipient to know this letter hadn't been writing by Al? She could probably write stuff if she wanted. She's blind, not stupid.).

When he started to gain friends and family- somehow gaining a little group of them- he didn't feel as bad about them noticing. He still didn't say anything- didn't make it obvious- but he wanted them to know he read there cards. Make sure they knew he read the group chat messages. Make sure they knew he did care (and for some reason, probably because the writer loves this headcannon, it seemed like alot of him showing his cared had to do with reading and spelling), writing them birthday cards and Christmas cards, and responding to every single message.

He found a quick way around the messages. That was easy. Emojis, memes and gifs quickly became his best friend. They were easy to dichiper most of the time, and Wade loved them, so it was a win win! He did write things too, and auto correct usually helped if he was struggling that day, but he was getting better thanks to Al and her bossing about of writing letters to her grandkids.

Writing cards took a little longer, but he spent alot of time on each one, making sure everything look neat and was spelt well. It always made him proud giving someone a card that he knew he spent so much time on, perfecting every last word.

When Logan moved in, it was a topic Wade was trying to avoid. He knew he should tell him- they were getting closer and closer each passing day- but he always felt so stupid trying to explain it. It made him feel stupid, even if he knew he wasn't. Most of the time.

Luckily, it doesn't actually come up for awhile, not until they have moved into their own place and Wade is handing Logan a birthday card with a huge grin on his face, practically bouncing on his feet.

And Logan opens it and reads it, and smirks a little because "I don't think the word awesome is spelt like that" and suddenly Wade's smile is wiped off his face.

He really had tried- maybe he didn't read the word properly off his phone or something- because Wade is taking the card and trying his best to quickly read it but can't, and he let's out a grunt of frustration because rambling at Logan apologetically. "I really tried to fucking spell everything right- I'm the idiot for fucking trying to read the word to spell it- I mean, who does that when you can't even read properly? I can re-do it- gimme like an hour and a half to go get a new card and get Al on the phone to just ask her how to spell it and then I can give you one that isn't fucked up-"

And Logan shuts him up with a small kiss to the forehead, telling him that he "likes this one just fine, has more charm" and Wade wants that to feel reassuring but it somehow doesn't, and it just makes him more annoyed.

So after a small melt down and a good cry in the shower for fucking up Logan's birthday, he explains it to Logan. Tells him about how he sometimes struggles with reading and spelling, but he really did try with the card. He really does try to read and write properly but some days it's hard and some days he can do it easier, and that he never really told anyone until he met Al. He messily rambles about everything- including the bullying- and Wade expects to be met with some laugh or ridicule. Though, this is Logan- and somehow this man loves every other part of him- so why wouldn't he love this part too?

And Logan just apologises to Wade that he made him feel bad about misspelling the word awesome- makes a joke about how it's a hard word to spell- and that Wade shouldn't have been bullied for something he couldn't help. Tells him that it's nothing to be ashamed off, and that he shouldn't let it hold him back. Tells him that if he ever needs help with spelling something he can ask Logan, that if he ever can't figure out a word that he can ask Logan, asks if there are any accommodations he uses to help him.

And Wade tells him the things that help, the things that don't, thanks him for the offer of help, and suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying that Logan knows. Suddenly he feels better about it. Sure, Al had helped, but hearing this from Logan made him feel less afraid to hide it. Made him feel better about telling his friends so they knew.

And Logan stays true to his words. He helps him when he is struggling with a word- never jumps in a reads stuff or spells things without being asked first- and even uses some of the accommodations. He has his phone set to a font Wade can read easier, and his next birthday card is in big bold writing (Logan's writing is normally really scribbly and hard to read) and on a colour that helps him focus on the words more.

And he tells his friends and they understand, they do the same. They help if asked, they don't rush him in reading their cards or messages- Yukio starts to use more emojis and Collosus tries his best to give Wade mission debriefs in person or voice messages- and it helps him immensely. He gets more confident about his reading and writing, and he starts to work on ut even more. And yeah, he can't get rid of his dyslexia, but he can try and find new ways that help him. He can find books in safe fonts and listen to the audio book as he reads to help (Though, he does prefer listening to Logan read to him, because his voice is so smooth and gruff somehow, and he could listen to it for hours).

Wade hated that stupid part of himself for so long, but now- even if he is 47- he doesn't really mind it anymore. He makes jokes about his spelling errors or words he missreads, and he works on finding new things to help with Logan, and everything is alittle bit easier knowing he isn't going to be ridiculed and judged.

(People who said they wanted this, I hope you enjoy! @wadewnstonwilson @logictoinsanity @zerotoqueero @superbattrash @spoopderman @klszkas @ohitsthemindstuffagain @mangoob @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes (tagging yall who said you wanted to read it!))

#so i really love this headcannon #dyslexia #dyslexic #dyslexic wade my child #dyslexic wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #wade wilson #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #logan #deadpool #wade winston wilson #wade x logan #logan howlett

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months ago

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why dudley redemption it makes a lot of sense to me in the second book we know he cares enough to remember what Harry's birthday is. yes he uses this as a chance to mock him but he knows it regardless. He also changes drastically after the dementors my favorite theory is because it shows him himself the raw and ugly selfish person he is and that is terrible enough to cause change

(Referring to this post)

Yeah, Dudley's redemption makes sense because he was a child, and he learned, and he improved. And yes, him remembering Harry's birthday is a sign of care, roundabout as it is.

What I find fun about Dudley's redemption is how terrified of magic he is. Like, his parents teach him to be scared of magic and hate it. And, I mean, he was harmed by magic multiple times:

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, “NEVER — ” he thundered, “— INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

(PS)

Harry wheeled around. Dudley was no longer standing behind his parents. He was kneeling beside the coffee table, and he was gagging and sputtering on a foot-long, purple, slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth. One bewildered second later, Harry realized that the foot-long thing was Dudley’s tongue — and that a brightly colored toffee wrapper lay on the floor before him. Aunt Petunia hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his swollen tongue, and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth; unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and sputtered worse than ever, trying to fight her off. Uncle Vernon was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Mr. Weasley had to shout to make himself heard.

(GoF)

He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging . . . Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking.

(OotP)

And yet, he's never really scared of Harry and actually grows to have respect for Harry after he saves him from the dementors. I just really like that for all his fear of magic. He doesn't fear Harry. Not really.

And, we see his position on Harry change, he has his own subtle little arc of realising his parents are full of shit:

“Er — no, they don’t,” said Harry. “They think I’m a waste of space, actually, but I’m used to — ” “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” If Harry had not seen Dudley’s lips move, he might not have believed it. As it was, he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin who had spoken; for one thing, Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and astonished himself.

(DH)

And when Dumbledore calls Vernon and Petunia out in HBP (quite late, on his part), Harry assumes Dudley is stupid:

Dudley was frowning slightly, as though he was still trying to work out when he had ever been mistreated. Uncle Vernon looked as though he had something stuck in his throat; Aunt Petunia, however, was oddly flushed.

(HBP)

But I think Dudley was actually considering Dumbledore's words here and taking them to heart. I think he frowned because he was actually thinking about it. Becouse he got what Dumbledore meant.

I can't really get behind that theory for what Dudley saw, personally. I don't think that's the case since it's not the sort of thing we know other characters (Harry) see. Dementors make you relive your worst memories (his parents' death and later the graveyard, in Harry's case), not the thing you need to see for your character development.

I don't know what Dudley saw, but I'm sure he saw a specific moment, a memory that was his worst moment. The moment he, himself suffered the most. I consider the situation with the tongue-swelling toffee or any of the other times Dudley suffered at the hands of magic to be likely candidates. So, no, I don't think Dudley improved because of what the dementors showed him. I think his character development happened because Harry bothered to save him. Harry acted in a way that contradicted everything Dudley's parents said about him and his magic. Harry used his magic to save Dudley. And I think that was the fact that really set Dudley on his small arc.

That moment proved to Dudley that Harry was an inherently good person and that magic could be used to save lives (his life). It basically gave Dudley undeniable proof his parents lied to him.

I mean, Dudley makes it clear Harry's actions of saving his life were a big deal for him:

“Well . . . er . . . thanks, Dudley.” Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression before mumbling, “You saved my life.”

(DH)

So I belive that was the source of his arc.

And I think it's interesting. Like, I won't say Dudley is a character I particularly like, but I understand him, and I think he has a small redemption. Like, I can't see post-books Harry being super close to Dudley, but I like to think they chose to meet up again and try to have some familial connection. Not anything super close, but, it would be something, yk?

I also think an adult Dudley would not be very close to his parents. Like, he'd see them for holidays and stuff, but these meetings would always be tense, especially when he brings up the question of why Harry isn't there as he did in DH:

“Why isn’t he coming with us?” Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze where they stood, staring at Dudley as though he had just expressed a desire to become a ballerina. “What?” said Uncle Vernon loudly. “Why isn’t he coming too?” asked Dudley [...] They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not move and after a few faltering steps Aunt Petunia stopped too. “What now?” barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway. It seems that Dudley was struggling with concepts too difficult to put into words. After several moments of apparently painful internal struggle he said, “But where’s he going to go?” Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the silence.

(DH)

It makes sense to me, at least that Dudley's relationship with his parents would go more strained and that he'll try to keep in touch with Harry. That he'd feel like he needs to and eventually they'll get along well enough. Again, I don't think Harry and Dudley would ever be super close, but it would be something.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anonymous #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #dudley dursley

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thepenandthepistol · 6 months ago

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Mundane Aching (Platonic!Grian x reader)

Due to some soreness, you're unable to help Gem like you said you would. Grian helps you out and soothes some of your worries.

A/N : Sickfic I wrote because my period was killing me T-T and also the first thing I've actually posted on this account! A win for the slayers of perfectionism. This was meant as a platonic fic but I'm sure you could read it as romantic if you want. Also, reader is an avian as well. (1018 words)

Art by @applestruda and divider by @saradika-graphics

There's still so much to be done, and here you are, still under the sheets. You spent the first half of the day trying to manage a creeping pain in your back right where skin meets the base of your coal-black wings. Ache spreads in waves from the limb and into your vertebra, as if something alive is puppeteering the sinews under your skin.

Despite the guilt, you've resigned yourself to your bed; due to an enormous nap, you missed your afternoon plans with Gem. Being an avian means you were much more used to flying than she was, and the new nether build she was planning required some tight maneuvering. Days like these are some you look forward to, holding onto the back of her chestplate, hovering over lava lakes and bastions.

The trust she has in you, feeling safe even if dangling over potential death, is special in its own right. The friendship you've cultivated and the idle conversations had midair are among your most treasured memories. So, when the exhaustion from carrying materials to and from your shop finally made itself known, you groaned as you curled up on your bed, trying to push away the pain and at least pass by Gem's to apologize for your absence. Maybe sweeten the deal with a nice cake and evening tea.

A sudden flash of crimson outside your window makes you stop in your tracks, feet just inches from touching the cool floor. A single moment of silence is had before Grian pulls himself back up onto the windowsill with a mischievous smile.

"Did I scare you?" He asks, shuffling inside and closing the window behind him with a soft click.

"Oh yeah," you start, closing your eyes and breathing deeply as a particularly sharp stab rolls from your back and claws at your ribs. "Only if being worried you were going to cut your wings on the bars outside counts as scared."

"Excuse me, I'm very skilled! I could probably dodge like five of those in a row." He speaks with a smile, but, to your dismay, he's seen through your teasing and into the discomfort below.

"Gem's been looking for you," he says, aligning some of the trinkets on your shelf and picking your work clothes off the floor. "Sent me here to check while she continued working."

"Shit," you sigh and drape your arm over your eyes, blocking the light crawling in from outside. "I'm having a bad day, I guess. Must've overworked myself last week, and now my wings are killing me."

"Have you had something to eat?" You hear your closet door creek open and Grian looking for something between clothes and towels.

"Not exactly. I had a snack before midday, but I slept through lunch." You open your eyes to see him bring a nice blanket over your shoulders. It doesn't ease the pain, but the soft texture makes existing a little easier.

"Well, just about time for some tea then." You grimace, remembering your promise to Gem. Grian moves to close the room door behind him when you groan out a protest, wrapping the woolen quilt around yourself and finally standing up.

"I'll join you. If I lay here any longer, I'll sleep the entire day away," Grian snickers, but walks in sync with your lethargic steps down the stairs and into a quaint kitchen.

Plopping down on a stool, you watch Grian clack on the stove and place a ceramic kettle on top. It was a birthday gift from Ren. A painted flock of dark birds contrasts the white background alongside some fleuron details.

"Grian, mate, it's you," you point to a particularly wonky bird.

"Absolutely not, look at him! He's your splitting image." He gestures to the dark wings behind you.

"You know what else is splitting?"

"Your head?"

"My head."

You rest your temple on the wooden table and furrow your eyebrows. You could probably make the journey over to Gem's by now; despite the headache and muscle cramps, you're feeling well enough to stand, and you could chance flying the short way over.

With a crack, you stretch your wings entirely; they spasm a bit before reaching their full length; you pay no mind. What was once a terrible tendon-deep flare has resided to a burning soreness; you've done more than travel a couple hundred blocks in worse conditions.

Grian pours the water into two mugs, each with a homemade teabag flopping loosely off the side. You take the smaller mug, lifting it to say 'cheers,' and sip on the sweet berry. You begin putting on your boots when Grian finally lets concern wash over his face.

"You should rest a bit more. Gem's fine. Her garden's turning out really nice." You hesitate a tad bit before tying the laces together.

"I promised her I'd help you know. I'm sure she understands, but I want to make good on my word." You don't register Grian setting down his mug and tilt your head in confusion as he kneels and pulls your boots to his thigh, unlacing them.

"You sound like a knight going to war," he cracks a tiny fond smile. "I know it's your nature, but these things aren't that serious. Your 'word' is still good even if you don't put your own health on the line." Silence follows.

"You're sure she doesn't need me?"

"Positively." He stalks off to line your shoes up by the door and then returns, sitting next to you on the couch and letting his wing curl around you.

"You need to relax. No wonder you're having a bad time when your muscles are that tense." He teases, and you scoff, taking back the mug and continuing to drink.

"Can you tell Gem I won't be making it then, please."

"Yeah, course," he says, knocking his shoulder with yours and hopping to his feet.

"I should tie a letter to your leg and throw you out of the second-story window." You say into the mug as he turns the knob on the front door.

"Hey! I am not a pigeon!"

#hermitcraft x reader #grian x reader #platonic!grian x reader #mcyt x reader #x reader

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f1byjessie · 1 year ago

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part three.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” You look down at the post. The photos, carefully taken a few nights ago while getting ready for a dinner gala you’d been brought along to as Sophia’s plus one, are pretty. She and you had scrolled and sorted and scrolled and sorted some more trying to pick the perfect ones, and then you’d written and rewritten the caption more times than you could count before finally settling on something vague but faintly implicit.

You study it for a moment longer, then look back up to your friend.

She smirks. “Trust me. It'll work. I got an ex-boyfriend to come crawling back begging for another chance by making him think I was already moving on.”

“It just seems… mean,” you murmur, frowning. You want Oscar to like you— you want it a lot— but you're not sure if this is the way you want to go about it. “Isn’t this just manipulating him?”

Sophia sighs and falls back onto the bed beside you. She gives you a look, gestures down to your phone, and then curls around your shoulder so she can peer down at the screen. “It’s not a soft launch. There’s no guy. The caption doesn’t mention anyone. If he gets the impression that you’re with someone else, then that’s on him.”

You trust her, of course, but this is Oscar. You’ve known him for years. He’s your brother’s best friend, and for the longest time, he was the closest thing you had to a best friend too. As twins, anything Logan did you tended to do with him— soccer, swimming, biking. You even had shared birthday parties growing up. Karting was the first real thing he’d done on his own, but even then you’d always been close by, and that meant you’d always been close by to Oscar too.

Like she can sense your continued hesitation, Sophia speaks up again. “If you post that, and he doesn’t react, then that’s that. You don’t have to do it again.”

“I just— I don’t know.” You worry your lip between your teeth. “I just don’t think it’s the type of thing that he’d go for. He’s, you know, polite like that, I guess? If he thought I was taken, or moving on, or something, then he’d respect that and wouldn’t bother me.”

The silence hangs in the room. She’s still leaning against you, one hand rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and the other hugging you into her. When you stand, she lets you go easily, watching as you begin to pace the length of your bedroom, phone clenched tightly in your hands.

When you finally come to a halt in the corner farthest from the bed, you turn and meet her gaze shyly, “What if he stops ‘maybe’ having feelings for me because he thinks I'm taken? Or, what if he thinks I’m not interested and so he doesn’t ever bring it up?”

“Then you take one for the team and you tell him,” she shrugs. “Woman up and admit that the entire time you were out in that fancy dress of yours with those roses, you’d wished it was him who had gotten them for you and you’d wanted it to be him you were getting dressed up for.”

You look back down to your phone.

You’ve never done this before— boys, at least. The chase. Europe hadn’t been a very easy place to live— not with a schedule that made keeping friends virtually impossible, let alone a boyfriend. When you moved back to the United States, you were focused more on your career, prioritizing yourself over anything else.

You’d been single for so long that you hadn’t been in any hurry to change things, but now the lack of experience is making you nervous. Apart from movies and books and the borderline horror stories Sophia has told you about her own disastrous love life, you don’t know the first thing about dating.

“Y/N, is this about Oscar or something else?”

You look up, still biting at your lip. “What if we break up and I’ve ruined a friendship?”

Sophia raises an eyebrow, “Is he the kind of guy that would throw away a friendship because things didn’t work out?”

“I don’t know! That’s the problem! I wanna say no, that he’d be totally fine and we would be able to pretend like nothing happened and go back to how we were before it all, but I can’t,” you cross the room and lower yourself onto the bed again. “Context matters too. What if it’s a really messy breakup and we can never look at each other the same? What if he does something so unforgivable that it ruins his friendship with my brother? Logan worked hard to make friends and this first season was rough for him. He’s the only American driver on the grid, and they weren’t exactly welcoming. But Oscar was there for him and I would never forgive myself if I did something to ruin that.”

“What could Oscar do that would be so unforgivable it would ruin a friendship?”

You fall back onto the mattress. “I don’t know that either! Realistically he wouldn’t do anything because that’s just who he is— he’s like the nicest most genuinely sweet guy I’ve ever met. But I’m not a fortune teller! I can’t look into the future and know that he won’t get tired of me and go find some other girl, or, I don’t know.”

You can feel tears burning at the back of your eyes and wipe at them harshly.

Sophia notices and lays down beside you, pulling you into her side again. She runs her fingers through your hair and lets you compose yourself a bit more before she speaks up again. When she does, it’s— “You’re so afraid of the worst-case scenario that you aren’t even letting yourself take the chance. Sometimes you just gotta leap before you look and believe that you’ll land on solid ground.”

“I hate when you get philosophical on me,” you murmur, a soft laugh slipping past your lips.

She sits back up and rolls her eyes, but there’s a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Puh-lease. As if you’d ever get anything done without my wizened words of advice.”

You sniffle and wipe the last remnants of tears from your eyes, then sit up with her and look back down at your phone. The unfinished post still stares back up at you.

“What if I just—” you delete the caption for the umpteenth time and let your fingers dance across the screen, “—say this instead?”

Sophia leans over your shoulder, reads the new caption, pauses, and purses her lips. She reads it again, hums, and then breaks out into a grin. An incredulous laugh slips out and she turns to you with shining eyes. “You’re a damn genius! I knew you were worried over nothing. You just gotta stop getting into your head so much.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 12,827 others

yourusername honey, i’m still free. take a chance on me.

view all 7,631 comments

user WHAT???

user IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH???

↳ user she’s literally saying she’s still free?? why would she say that if this is a soft launch?? 😭😭

logansargeant should’ve taken me with you 😒

↳ yourusername logie we both know you hate black tie events

user girl idk how you can do it i’d be spilling out of that dress with one wrong turn

user THE ROSES?? THE BABY’S BREATH?? I’M SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

landonorris slay girl queen boss

↳ yourusername lando… what…

↳ landonorris i’m in my supportive era 😌💅 you should try it sometime

user i NEED to know where that dress is from omg

user oh to be a young rich and beautiful socialite

user not to be delulu but there’s a surprising lack of op81 in these comments 👀

INSTAGRAM.

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 429,868 others

oscarpiastri it’s summer somewhere right?

view all 1,021 comments

landonorris hm this caption seems familiar 🤨 i wonder what it could be referencing 🤔

user GOOD LUCK IN 2024 OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡

user wishing this were me rn

user i’m too delulu for this rn 😭

↳ user i’m waiting for y/n to show up in these comments

↳ user did they have a fight or smth??? they haven’t commented on each other’s last few posts

user gosh that’s the dream rn

When you answer the unknown number, on your way back to your room with a tub of ice cream and a plan to eat away your disappointment at the failure of Sophia’s plan, the last thing you expect is to hear Lando Norris of all people on the other end. There’s no greeting, no introduction, just an immediate— “Yeah, so, I’m gonna need you to fill me in on the sitch.”

For a brief moment, all you can do is stand there in the hallway with your phone pressed to your ear, wondering if this is real. You’ve had maybe a few brief conversations with Lando throughout your various visits to the paddock across the season, and though he was very nice and polite, and all of your interactions were friendly, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends. Certainly not “swap numbers and call one another” type of friends, either. Your most recent socializing has been strictly confined to the comment sections of Instagram posts.

“Hello? Y/N?”

You clear your throat, “Sorry. What?”

“The sitch? Situation? That’s an American slang word, I thought you knew that.” He says it so matter-of-factly. As if that’s the only thing you could be even remotely confused about in this whole interaction.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head as if it’ll somehow straighten out the spinning of your mind. “I know what the word means, Lando. I’m just wondering why you of all people are calling me right now? How’d you even get my number?”

You can hear music and voices on the other end of the line, muffled and distant, and then a door opens and closes and the extra noise is gone. Lando takes a deep breath and sighs, “If you must know, I got it from Alex, who got it from Lily, who got it from you. So, you know, transitive property means technically I got it from you, too.”

“I’m gonna choose to ignore how wrong all of that is,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continue down the hall and eventually slip into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you.

You do recall giving your number to Lily, and the two of you have shared a few messages since the end of the season— mostly typical check-ins and catching up with the happenings of your individual lives. Occasionally she sends you recipes she thinks you’d like, and you do the same. You knew she’d given it to Alex because she’d asked you first if that was okay, and all Alex had sent was a brief well-wishes when Williams had confirmed Logan’s re-signing, accompanied by a short message that Lily was looking forward to seeing you in the paddock again.

Ignoring all of that, however, you focus on the matter at hand. “Why are you calling? Isn’t it crazy late in Monaco right now?”

He hums. “I’m the slightest bit tipsy, but I cannot take it anymore. If I see one more caption with underlying subtext like this is a forbidden romance in a period drama I am going to, quite frankly, lose my mind. I need you to explain to me what in the fuck is going on between you and Oscar.”

You pause, and then you groan. “Oh my God.”

“Yes, ‘oh my God’ indeed. Now please explain.”

You heave a sigh, because you know he isn’t going to drop this, but you also know that if anyone could help you more than Sophia, it’s probably Lando. He’s Oscar’s teammate, and at the very least, if you can’t talk to Logan, you can talk to the only other person who probably knows him just as well.

“It’s a long story,” you mumble, curling up in your bed.

He makes a sound, like a scoff. “Okay? I have plenty of time.”

So you start from the beginning. Between spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream, you detail how it all started because of a message of condolence, how that had led to a rendezvous for drinks, and how that had led even further to him kissing you in the car as he’d dropped you off at your hotel.

He’s silent up until you mention that Oscar hadn’t acknowledged the kiss at all afterward, and then he makes an affronted noise and mutters something under his breath about stupid guys and heads in asses.

You admit that part of it was your own fault, that you hadn’t attempted to communicate either because you’d been afraid of the reaction and potentially the rejection, but that you’d been kicking yourself ever since for missing out on being able to talk face to face about things when you’d had the chance.

It all culminates in you explaining your current situation, and you tell him about your talk with Sophia and then your friend’s self-proclaimed mastermind plan, which had failed spectacularly when Oscar hadn’t even seen the post.

When you’re finished, there’s a moment of silence before he bursts into laughter.

You flush red in embarrassment and hug the tub of ice cream closer to your chest, feeling miserable and ashamed, but also like you deserve it all anyway. The tub isn’t freezing cold anymore, but the chill still seeps in through your shirt faintly, and it’s comforting against the heated blush.

“Sorry,” he says when his cackling has died down to chuckles. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I actually do want to help. I genuinely can’t take one more post with a caption that’s all thinly veiled pining.”

You pause, fiddle with your spoon for a moment, and then hesitantly ask— “Do you know if he likes me?”

Lando goes quiet, and then he hums and admits that he doesn’t. “But,” he adds quickly, “just because I don’t have total confirmation doesn’t mean it isn’t basically obvious. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I know Oscar.”

You sigh, “But how are you going to help? You can’t just ask.”

“I don’t need to,” he answers, like you’re crazy for thinking he’d do something like that. “I’ve got a plan.”

Great. You run a hand down your face and try to stay optimistic. Another plan.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry

━━ a/n: a bit more writing heavy this part, and a bit longer because of it, but i'm proud of how it turned out! we're finally getting somewhere, and now we've got lando joining the team. genuinely had so much fun writing him, so i'm excited to feature him in future parts!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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artofvisualshock · 1 year ago

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Messages from the GazettE to the fans (Google translations)

〈 RUKI 〉

At the end, he said, "I want the GazettE to be forever." I think what he meant by "forever" was that he hoped that the amazing scenes he saw from the stage in 2023 would continue forever.

The scenes he saw with his fans, the happy faces of his fans, and the scenes where we all sang together were treasures that could not be replaced by anything else, and I think he hoped that moment would continue forever.

I remember him saying that he wanted to perform live soon.

Even now that he's grown up, he was a kind and passionate man who can honestly say, "Even if something bad happens, it's the most fun when we get together like this and laugh with the band members."

I loved that honesty.

This year was no different, and every year on our birthdays we would jokingly tell each other to take care of our health.

The band will never be a four-man band.

No matter what anyone says.

Because you're the only bassist we have.

Because I believe that my soul is always beside me to the right.

I'm sure everyone can feel it, even if they can't see it.

The proof that Reita has built up in the GazettE so far will not disappear and will definitely live on.

I believe that, so I will continue to sing beside him so that his soul can be right beside me.

I will not become the GazettE that Reita hates.

I don't want to make him sad.

Although all humans live in a finite life, I believe that souls never disappear.

Reita's soul, the members, myself, and the fans.

I want to continue to perform live shows that make all the people who loved me want to come back to the stage forever, even after they have become souls.

So it is only with each and every one of our fans that we can create the scenery that we hoped he would be eternal.

That's why I want him to stay by my side and be there, unchanged from now on.

He should look at me and smile, and think, "He was the best guy!", rather than looking at me with a sad face.

We are more determined than ever to protect this band.

We will make Reita's wish for eternity come true.

So, Reita, rest assured that you can come to every live show from heaven.

Your seat will always be there.

You're going to be super busy from now on.

I'll contact you again when the schedule is decided.

-----------------

<Uruha>

To all the fans who have supported REITA up until now.

I think he was a huge support for everyone, and for me.

I myself have not been able to accept and realize the fact that he is no longer here and that we can no longer stand on stage together.

There may be many things that I will come to understand little by little from now on.

However, if I continue to be drowning in sadness, I will not be able to make his wish for eternity come true, and I strongly feel that now is the time for me to have the strength to look forward and move forward.

I also think that the path we walked together until now was irreplaceable for him, and I think it will continue to live in the hearts of everyone and myself.

He gave us so much, and we walked together for so long, and he is still and will always be our best friend.

Please treasure all the words, memories, and love he left behind in your heart.

REITA will continue to exist and live in everyone's hearts.

We would like to express our sincere gratitude to everyone who has supported and cheered on the GazettE REITA.

-----------------

〈 Aoi 〉

For a long time, the members and a small staff have been working on various projects, saying "this and that," but writing this letter was the last thing I wanted to do.

There have been moments when I felt like giving up on my dreams.

Every time, we talked about it again and again, sometimes pushing each other, and pulling the members' arms so that they wouldn't give up.

Because we were such a band, the GazettE has been able to keep moving forward without stopping.

REITA, you're not the one who wishes for eternity, you're the one who connects eternity.

I can't say something clever like "I'll take care of you."

I wanted to make more music with you, and see more scenery together.

Every scenery is wonderful because we see it with the five of us, surrounded by our fans.

I don't know why, but it's so painful that I can't make it happen even though I have so many things I want to say.

When I get there, I'm going to start with a big lecture. I know it's lonely because we're gone so suddenly, but please take a rest until then.

I have a few more things to do here.

Thank you for walking this long road with me. Rest in peace.

-----------------

〈 Kai 〉

For me, REITA is an immeasurably big presence, saved by his many words and sounds, the mood maker for the band, and all I remember are really fun things, and above all, the sight of him shining on stage.

He is the best partner and the only one in the rhythm section.

That has never changed, and will never change in the future.

I want to continue carrying his feelings and continue with the GazettE with even greater resolve.

Finally, to all the fans and people involved who have supported us for the past 22 years.

Thank you very much.

And from now on, our feelings will remain the same and we would like to continue running as a group of five, so please continue to support us.

REITA

Thank you for all your hard work.

With the same feelings, we will continue to protect the GazettE together with our many friends... I promise.

There are many friends out there who don't want your 22 years to go to waste, and they are waiting for you.

You must come to our shows too!

Let's have some good sake again.

#the gazette #reita #rip #uruha #ruki #aoi #kai

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hyunnie04 · 1 year ago

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muse

hwang hyunjin x reader, fluff | m.list

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: you can't decide what to give hyunjin for his birthday. a/n: very self indulgent theme/fic!! i like to draw myself so i thought i'd write about it for his birthday :> i apologize for being a bit late, irl obligations have been kicking my ass lately i'm sorry my hyune but i hope you guys like it! T-T

march was a month full of new beginnings. the year was only starting, january and february flying by like a breeze. remnants of winter still clung in the air and on the branches of the trees, pillowing them with the softness of white snow. it was also getting warmer, the chill no longer having its harsh bite and welcoming the inevitable pinks and greens of spring to come. and for you, new beginnings also meant taking on projects that you never thought you would be able to do.

hyunjin's birthday was only a few days away, just a little less than a week from now.

you've spent the entire afternoon in a panic after the realization, racking your brain for any ideas, thinking what you could possibly do for his present only to come up empty handed. buying a gift for him is certainly the easier option and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, seeing as hyunjin was the type of person to appreciate whatever you give him, be it big or small, expensive or not. it was just the matter of wanting to surprise him with a gift that he most likely doesn’t already have.

you sigh and rest your head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling in thought. your eyes silently wander towards the painting that hung on the wall of your tiny apartment.

it was painted by hyunjin himself, a bouquet of your favorite flowers that he had given you for your own birthday. you always loved staring at it, earning a place in your favorite corner of the room.

you often stare at it, delving into the intricacies of each brush stroke, how the colors come together in harmony, the symbolism and sentimentality behind it all, and just how much love was poured into making it. hyunjin truly had a talent in capturing the likeness and essence of his subjects, even the simplest ones.

it was almost tradition, how he makes his closest family and friends paintings when it was their birthday or when there was a special occasion. he used his oil paints that you've become familiar with, the dozens of tubes and pots of color messily strewn all across his little studio back at his dorm.

it was a such thoughtful gesture, painting that was. taking his time out of his day to make something out of nothing, showing that he truly cared about the person. whenever you would visit him on his days off, he was always immersed in his craft. adept fingers swiping over charcoal, hands dipping into paint, a sight you always love seeing. you still remember the photo you took secretly of him in his studio, blissfully painting the night away.

you drum your hands on the arm rest, returning to brainstorm for ideas, still in deep thought. and then it all suddenly clicked.

you have always admired hyunjin and his work, so why not make him one in return?

he was always giving others gorgeous pieces of art, he certainly deserved to have his own. you were no picasso and certainly no hyunjin, but the act of gift giving has always been your favorite way of showing your love.

you had a basic grasp of how the medium was used, having watched hyunjin more than enough times. the techniques he had taught you during one of your art sessions together might come in handy as well. the one and only problem was that it left you with such little time to finish it. oh well, it was better to start late than never.

the next day, you picked up and gathered the necessary materials from the art supply shop you knew hyunjin frequented, recognizing the different kinds of paints, sizes and types of canvases, and brushes that he likes to use. you laid them out on your living room floor upon arriving home, finally starting on your little project.

the remainder of the days leading up to his birthday were spent awake during ungodly hours into the night, full of endless trials and errors, scrapped ideas and tons of caffeine. your living room became your makeshift studio, a tarp laid down the center to catch the unavoidable mess you surely would be making. learning a completely different and unfamiliar medium from what you were used to was difficult, but you were determined and your mind was set.

hyunjin was getting worried. it had been a few days since he last saw you, nonetheless heard anything. he understood that the two of you were quite busy people, not always finding the time to talk. but after five missed calls and maybe a dozen texts over the span of two days and no reply? he was ill at ease.

maybe he was overreacting, but he knew that you would've at least sent something to acknowledge his texts. he decided to ask his friends about your whereabouts, asking if anyone had contact with you, only earning head shakes in return.

"have you tried going to their place?" chan asks the ravenette, leaning his back on the dance practice room’s mirrored walls. hyunjin huffs, mouth forming into a slight pout, shaking his head no. practice was getting more challenging as the comeback and schedules started to pile up, his attendance becoming crucial.

"you can go later, we don't have anything scheduled for tomorrow." his hyung removes his cap, fluffing his curls underneath. hyunjin breathes out a sigh of relief, sending him a quick thank you.

the older of the two nods in understanding, reaching a hand out to hyunjin upon standing on his feet. back to practice they went.

it was the night before his birthday. getting stubborn paint off your brushes was the worst, is what you've learned these past several days of non-stop painting. even with the appropriate solvent, the paint can and is still clinging stubbornly onto its fibers; leaving you in the bathroom sink to scrub them tediously under soap and some warm water.

your hands start to ache with all the scrubbing, perhaps growing tired as well from the painting, but you'd like to think that the momentary pain was worth it. the composition of it was finally starting to come together. the work flow became easier once you figured out a concept and a theme you were happy with, inspiration and motivation coming in effortlessly now. it only needed some last few touches, you could only hope he would like it as much as you ended up liking it too.

after the brushes were cleaned to the best of your abilities, you pat them dry, leaving them on the counter for the time being.

"y/n? are you home?" your hands still at the sound of the front door opening. it was undeniably hyunjin's voice.

you and hyunjin lived apart despite dating for quite a long while. it was a mutual agreement that it would be more convenient for the two of you to live separately, his job requiring him to live closer to his place of work. you gave him a spare key so he could come by whenever he liked, but you didn’t expect him at all to drop by today.

you originally thought nothing of it for a moment, even brushing it off. but then the panic started to set in. he would see it right away, the canvas sitting right in front of the living room with no cloth to cover it. if you go out now, you might have a chance of covering it up before he finds out.

rushing out of the bathroom after wiping your hands dry, you've quickly noticed how it had suddenly gone quiet. you peak around the corner, seeing him standing idly in the middle of your living room, still unaware of your presence.

it was too late. you see the familiar ebony locks greet you upon arriving. his mouth practically hanging open as he stares at the easel facing him, winter coat slung heavily on his left arm.

"surprise?" you flush upon seeing his head whip towards your figure, leaned against the arch of the doorway. it was also a little embarrassing, not having the time to clean up.

"is...that me?" he says in quiet disbelief. you can’t quite decipher if his reaction was good or bad but you nod, coming up to stand beside him. he stares at the canvas once more, no doubt taking in the details of it. you start to feel a little anxious under his gaze, silently wondering if he likes it.

"it's not done yet, that's why it looks a little rough." you pause, hesitation lacing your voice. he would eventually find out, having already seen it. “it was supposed to be your surprise birthday present.” is what you ended up saying, speech meek and low, barely audible.

his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he turns his eyes back to you. a noticeable redness staining his cheeks.

“wow,” he breathes out, tilting his head closer to gaze on the finer details. hyunjin pauses for a moment before replying. “this is beautiful.” his voice light, feathery. his fingertips, slender and lithe, hovering above as if to trace it. relief washed over you hearing him say it, your nerves easing and cheeks warming in return.

“you think so?” you purse your lips before smiling gratefully at him, noting the masking tape still plastered on its borders and small parts of it still unblended but thank him earnestly nonetheless.

“i figured since you always make people art on their birthday," you took to move to the couch, the ache in your body starting to take its toll. "i thought i'd give back and make you one too."

hyunjin was, in short- moved. the portrait was of him sitting in his art studio, the sun falling and spilling on his form peaking through the windows. although his elegantly curved back was turned and it was impossible to see his face, it was unmistakable that it was him.

he was truly not expecting anything, he was just happy with the prospect of just being with you on his special day. the thoughtfulness, sentimentality, and affection that came with making gifts with him in mind, he didn’t think it was possible to love you more than he already did. his eyes are lost in yours, the contours of his handsome face highlighted by the dim lights of your living room.

“i know it's bad but-”

hyunjin doesn’t let you continue, pulling you into a sudden kiss, throwing his coat on the couch haphazardly. your immediate response was to wrap your hands around his neck, hands wandering up and towards his hair. you could feel his smile on his mouth as he kisses you, grabbing the nape of your neck to steady your form. the kiss is intoxicating, feeling the love upon his soft movements, his warmth contrasting the chill from outside.

when he parts from you, he’s giddy, and jumping around like the happiest ferret you’ve ever seen. the wisps of hair fall to his temple, framing his beautiful face. “thank you, darling.”

“even if it’s not done yet- i love it,” he presses another kiss to the side of your mouth. “so much.” you could only laugh in response, completely flustered and enamored by his reaction.

hyunjin pulls you towards his chest, both arms locking around your shoulders. you could smell the perfume he always likes to wear. “is this why you weren’t picking up your phone?”

“my phone?” you pat your pockets in search, only to find it missing. your mind must’ve slid away, not knowing at all where it was but you could search for it later. “oh, yeah. m’ sorry.” the apology is muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he hums, his worries fading. you thought he was going to let you go, but he retaliates by resuming to press more kisses into you.

“okay, okay! thank you. i’m glad you like it.” you untangle his long arms from your body in order to stand up while hyunjin watches you do so, curiosity in his eyes. you already miss the warmth he radiated.

“but, technically-” you start by grabbing the easel and placing it near the wall and out of his view, grabbing the stray tubes of paint off the floor and putting them away in their basket. “it’s still not your birthday.”

his plump lips form into a pout as he continues to watch you clean up. “and i’m not quite done with it yet so you have to wait.” placing a quick ‘boop’ to his nose, you head to the bathroom to freshen up for bed.

hyunjin checks his wrist watch as he follows you suit, his white teeth poking out. his arms catch you once again, wrapping you from behind. "it's 12."

amused by his antics, you let out another laugh before turning around in his hold to face him again, pressing a kiss on his soft lips.”in that case, i’ill finish it as soon as possible and-”

"happy birthday, my dearest."

please reblog or leave a comment if you like my work! it motivates me to keep writing ♡ all works are written by hyunnie04, please do not repost on other sites.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fluff

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messedupfan · 5 months ago

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Chapter 24

Summary: Billy and Tommy are celebrating their 12th birthday.

A/n: Hellooooooo! I'm so sorry this has taken so long to post. It's been a ROUGH few months. But through it, I've been able to write a bit when I can. I've also fallen behind on a few episodes of Everything Is Fanfiction. I'm working on getting them out soon, just beware, they were meant to be posted in October/November. But November was so disappointing I needed a BREAK. Haha. Anyway, hope y'all are well. Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

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

“The kids told me that Y/n is going to be at their birthday party,” Vision says as he leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His facial features are contorted into what he assumes is a threatening expression. Once upon a time, his expression did cause Wanda’s stomach to twist in knots and her body to tense up so tightly it was as if she'd turned to stone. But now, all she sees is a man child. Just a boy throwing another fit because he can't have what he wants. She is no longer afraid of his glare and she has to refrain from grinning at the realization.

Wanda is picking up her boys since it's her week with them. She got caught in this conversation because she was left waiting for Tommy and Billy to say their goodbyes to their younger siblings. They love Vin and Viv wholeheartedly and they feel guilty every time they leave. Even more so because of the relief and safety they feel when they are with their mom. Something they don't know if their siblings will ever feel since Vin and Viv live full time with their father.

“Y/n will be there with Rachel, their daughter. A lot of parents will be there with their children,” Wanda says with a small shrug. She's trying her best to hide her annoyance over the fact that Vision continues to have this insecurity towards you. As if you're going to replace him in his role as a parent. Of course part of Wanda wishes it could be as simple as that. But she won't ever admit that in order to protect her kids.

“Well I won't be there if they slash them is going to be there,” he states firmly. “I'm the boy's father, so I have to be there.”

Once again, Wanda has to refrain from laughing. “Vis, you're not even invited. We agreed to do separate birthday celebrations when we got divorced,” she pauses as a fact pops in her mind. “Actually, it's written in our custody agreement. I just haven't held you responsible until now because I was trying to keep you from disappointing the boys at least on their birthday. So, you better think of something for your Saturday with them because I'm not letting you piggyback off of me anymore.”

Vision opens his mouth to say something but Tommy and Billy are dashing by as they race each other to the car to try and beat the other out for the front seat. Now that they're getting older, they're getting taller. Wanda can't keep them from fighting over the front seat the way she used to. She doesn't give Vision another second as she follows the boys, who are shoving each other, to the car. Billy is claiming that Tommy cheated and Tommy claiming that Billy is just too slow.

“Boys! No one gets the front seat!” Wanda shouts as she pulls them apart. “Both of you, get to the back!” She demands and they both scoff and sigh as they crawl into the backseat. As Wanda starts the car the boys start to argue over who gets to be in charge of the music.

“Mom, tell Tommy it's my turn! He played his music last time!” Billy shouts from the backseat.

“No, that was at dad's house that doesn't count!” Tommy defends.

“It does too!” Billy fires back. “I'm tired of your music! It sucks!”

“No it doesn't! My music is cool! Your music is for fags!” Tommy says the word a little too harshly. Wanda is shocked to hear Tommy say such a thing but knowing her ex-husband, it was only a matter of time.

Wanda looks back through the rear view mirror to see that they're still fighting each other. “Hey!” She demands their attention. “Because of that, no one gets to play their music. I'm very disappointed to hear you say such a thing like that Tommy. We do not use that kind of hateful language,” she states strongly to get them to stop fighting and hopefully to get Tommy to never say that word again.

Many Years Ago

“Ugh he's so gross,” Crystalia says as she watches Professor Stark pass by while he's in mid conversation with another faculty member.

Wanda is taking a bite of her food as she hides a nervous chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the rumors going around about him sleeping with students,” she says as she leans in close and speaks in a low tone. Wanda nearly chokes on her food.

“What? What are you talking about?” She wipes the corners of her lips as she feels Vision’s eyes on her. She subtly shakes her head in hopes that he'll stop looking her way. He looks ahead of him as he continues to walk and talk with his colleague.

“You haven't heard?” Crystalia says as though it's something that everyone on campus is talking about. Wanda shakes her head. “Oh my goodness! Okay. So. Apparently his TA saw a student go into the professor's office and a few minutes later he heard a bunch of moans from both of them. He isn't sure if he should turn him in because he really needs the scholarship that the professor helped him get. But he’s worried about the students' safety. I mean how gross. Professor Stark is in a position of power. I feel bad for whoever the poor girl is.”

Crystalia’s words begin to fade away as Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was certain they were super careful about what they were doing. She knew she shouldn't have met him in his office. It was a bad idea from the beginning. She cannot believe she let him talk her into it. But he really wanted to try being intimate in his office because the idea was thrilling. She couldn't deny that it was thrilling, she had never been so terrified and turned on at the same time at the idea of being caught. But knowing that his teaching assistant did catch them has her stomach doing somersaults. She has to push her plate of sushi away from her because she's too nauseous to eat anymore.

“Are you okay?” Crystalia asks with concern.

Wanda nods, “Yeah, yeah, I'm just, I'm not sure that the sushi is good is all.” She puts on a fake smile as her mind continues to race with what could happen to her if the teaching assistant were to turn them in. What it could do to her reputation of being known as a girl who screws the professors. It wouldn't matter that he's the only professor that she's been with or that she wasn't his student anymore and hasn't been for a year. It won't matter that they've been in a relationship that was beyond the physical. She would be ruined if anyone found out the student was her.

She knows she should have never started seeing him in the first place. She knew it was against the rules. But she couldn't help herself. It started off as fun and now it's too late to stop. She's so in love with him that she can't imagine life without him.

Present Day

A couple of days later, Wanda is sitting on her back porch and watching you lift the finished furniture that you'd made. Taking it from the backyard all the way to the driveway. She licks her lips as her eyes follow your every move, noticing the way your muscles flex as you hoist the chair up. She was starving for your touch again. With the kids' starting middle school and both of you having work piling up, neither of you have been able to find time to spend together. Not since the night the two of you slept together.

Neither of you really got to enjoy the moments after because shortly after the two of you finished she received a phone call from a nearby hospital. Her mother had fallen and broken her wrist. Wanda rushed to her mother's aid as soon as she was dressed and you drove her to the hospital. Her mother played the injury off as if it was nothing but the doctor stated otherwise. So, Wanda had her mom move in with her for the time being so that she could look after her mother.

You drove them back to Wanda's once the mother was released from the hospital. It was hard to deny anything going on between the two of you in the disheveled state you and Wanda were in. Not to mention how late into the night it was that the two of you were together. Her mom didn't ask any questions. She simply smiled and squeezed your arm. A silent approval in a sense.

Then you and Wanda said goodnight to each other because she thought it would be best for you to go home. You agreed as you figured the focus needed to be on her mother's health and not Wanda and yours relationship status. Thankfully, her mom hasn't been pressing her for details of your relationship with Wanda but she has been making comments. “You look happier,” she'll say as she sips coffee. “There’s a glow about you,” she'll say as she walks by the home office. “I think you’re doing the right thing,” she whispered once while the four of them were watching a movie about a blended family. “If you want to have someone over or go out, feel free. Don't let me stop you,” she stated on a Friday night when Wanda didn't have the kids and added a wink when Wanda gave her mother a funny look.

“Wow, Y/n made those all on their own?” Ms. Maximoff says as she sits next to her daughter while she sips her coffee. “They must have talented… hands.”

Wanda's eyes widen as she sits up, “Mom!” She scolds softly. “Stop,” she turns around to make sure her boys aren't within ear shot. “Just, please, the kids can't know. Not yet okay? So please, stop with the comments.”

Ms. Maximoff rolls her eyes and sets her mug on the table in front of them. “I was just paying your friend a compliment. You don't need to get flustered over nothing. I did not raise you to have a filthy mind.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Oh please mother, who are you trying to fool?”

“Okay, I won't say anything anymore. I just,” she looks around and notices that you and the kids are nowhere to be seen. Noting that they're alone. Even so, she leans in close to her daughter and asks, “Is this a secret because it's far from being serious?”

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she contemplates a simple answer. After a moment she starts to shake her head. “We're taking it slow. We're getting to know each other and figuring out if there is a future here. We're also protecting our kids.”

Her mother nods and places a hand atop her own. She gives her a light squeeze. “How do you feel about them?” she asks in a soft motherly tone that strikes a chord in Wanda.

The woman grows emotional. Tears spring to the brim of her eyes and threaten to fall as a lump forms in her throat. She takes a shaky breath to calm down. “I'm in love and I'm scared that I'm going to mess it up. I'm scared that I'm not seeing something majorly wrong with Y/n and it'll ruin my life when it comes out. I'm so happy and secure yet I'm so terrified that my instincts are wrong.”

Ms. Maximoff nods and moves her hand further up on Wanda's arm. “Vision did quite a number on you, didn't he?” She asks and Wanda looks away. She often avoids talking about her former marriage to her mother because she doesn't want her mom to think that she failed as a mother.

“Mom, please,” Wanda wipes her eyes and clears her throat.

“Honey, I'm only,” Ms. Maximoff doesn't get to continue because you are opening the back door, startling both of the women.

“Hey, I just wanted to warn you that I have to deliver the orders to the post office,” you say as you fail to notice the vulnerable state that Wanda is in. “Do you mind if Rachel stays behind, I'll only be a couple of,” your words fall as Wanda breathes through her stuffed nose, giving away her current state. You crouch near her to get a good look at her. You put one hand on her shoulder and your other gently takes her hand. “What's wrong, Wanda?”

Wanda shakes her head and clears her throat as she forces a smile. Her body responds to your touch, releasing the tension that was building from the conversation with her mother. “Nothing, nothing. It's only allergies,” she tries to lie and you tilt your head as you catch her eyes to make contact. When she finally surrenders and gazes into your eyes you have a nonverbal conversation hoping she will open up without having to verbalize her emotions. She tells you that she is fine and you nod as you accept her answer. You gently wipe a tear that has escaped before you stand up and let go of her.

“I need to drop off the furniture at the post office. Rachel isn't ready to leave yet, do you mind if I leave her here for a bit? I'll bring dinner for everyone on my way back,” you ask as you look at her carefully. Still concerned about how she is feeling.

Wanda takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, it's no big deal. I'm sure they're all distracted with a video game or something. I'll be here to keep them alive otherwise.” You laugh at her statement and thank her as you step away.

“How's the wrist Ms. Maximoff?” You ask as you step closer to her. She smiles and tells you that she's never been better. You give her a half hug goodbye and tell the ladies that you'll see them in a bit.

Ms. Maximoff looks at her daughter once you're gone and she smiles. “Honey, you have nothing to worry about.” Her confidence in her statement startles Wanda. Her mother had never been so approving of a partner that she's had. It felt different to have this kind of approval from her mom. At one point in her life, she could care less if her mom approved or not. But she didn't realize how much energy it took to be constantly defending her decisions. It overwhelms her once again. She fears how easy all of this is and she isn't certain that she can believe that this is real.

Many Years Ago

Wanda paces the bedroom nervously. She couldn't believe that she was in this situation again. She doesn't believe she'll be lucky a second time. What is she going to tell people? What is she going to tell her parents?

“It's not that bad,” Vision says as he stops Wanda in her tracks. Her pacing was irritating him but he is doing his best to remain steady, for her. “This can be a good thing. You won't need to worry about graduating or what kind of job you need to get. I can take care of us. I can take care of our family.” He puts his hand on her belly. Wanda melts into his touch as her eyes focus on his hand. There could be a baby growing inside. A baby that will change her life. But she doesn't want to fall into the trope. She refuses to give up her dreams of her career just because she had gotten pregnant by a man with means to care for her. She won't be seen as a gold digger. She won't have people believing that she trapped him into marrying her. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. She shakes her head.

“No, I still want to work. I would never expect you to take care of our family on your own,” she says softly. Vision's features twitch slightly but he doesn't react too much. He nods and pulls her into a tight embrace. That was not his plan. He wanted a stay at home wife, not a career woman. But he had to be careful. He knew that he could convince her eventually. When she would inevitably get stressed, he knew he could point out that it's not healthy for the baby. He knew that when she couldn't keep up with the housework and the baby and work that he could tell her to quit her job. He just had to be patient. In the end, Vision always got what he wanted.

“Okay, just know that you have the option. You might feel different later on and that's okay,” he says as he strokes her hair. Doing his best to sound supportive.

Wanda grows emotional as she clutches his shirt. “I'm scared, Vis. I don't think I'm ready,” she admits against his chest with a shaky tone.

Present Day

That Friday you arrive at her house an hour before the party is supposed to start so that you can help her decorate and set up. She is grateful for the help but she acts a bit standoffish. Since her conversation with her mom about her relationship with you, she has been spiraling. She skipped her therapy session because she wanted to see if she could manage her emotions on her own but unfortunately that only left her to be shut off from the world.

You could sense that something was off about her but you couldn't ask about it because part of you knew it was something that needed time and care and couldn't be solved in a brief conversation. So you did your best to be helpful and out of the way.

As the party began and parents and their children began to arrive, you noticed Wanda begin to perk up. But something still felt off about her. You tried not to linger around her too much. You stay with Pietro for some time. Chatting about how exciting it is to be done with one building and starting construction on another. The conversation moves to him asking you questions about your small business and how that's going.

Later on you're talking with Carol and Val about their wedding plans and you get excited about their ideas for their wedding and offer to build them an arbor as a gift. They try to shut you down and offer to pay but you convince them otherwise. Insisting that it's the only gift idea that you can actually pull off successfully.

Wanda’s gaze wanders over to you every now and then. She watches you laugh and engage with her friends and family. She watches you play with the kids when they start running around you. She doesn't want to, but she can't help but compare you to her ex husband. How he would have only paid attention to who he deemed the prettiest woman at the event. Even or especially if she was married. How if the kids came up to him, he would brush them off and tell them to go play with other kids. And when he remarried, the only reason he would talk to people was to show off his new wife.

Eventually you catch on to Wanda staring at you and you relax a little. You casually walk towards her and tip your head towards the stairs. Inviting her for a private conversation. She subtly nods and you make your way up the stairs without anyone noticing.

For Wanda, it isn't as easy. She has friends come up to her. She has a kid that's never been to the house before asking where the bathroom is. She is pulled every which way until finally, her mom steps in to get her out of conversations and helping others.

It takes her roughly thirty minutes to join you upstairs in her bedroom. She finds you sitting at the edge of her bed, patiently waiting.

“Hey,” she says in a soft tone as she enters the room. Carefully shutting the door behind her so that it doesn't draw any attention.

You perk up and sit up with a warm smile. “Hey you,” you greet her. “Are you doing okay?” You ask as she sits next to you with a deep sigh. She lays her head on your shoulder and you grow worried again.

“It's hard to talk about with you because it's about us and you. But it's mostly about me. I don't want to hurt you or scare you,” she tries to explain her complicated feelings that she is struggling to voice. You nod and take her hand in yours to provide her some comfort as you listen to her.

“Have you talked to your therapist about it?” You ask as you rub your thumb on the back of her hand. She nods her head. The fact that this is still bothering her tells you that this isn't something that can be solved in an hour session with her therapist. “What about with your mom?” You ask in order to understand her a bit better.

“I have, somewhat. She's very encouraging of you, by the way. I wouldn't be surprised if she has started a Pinterest board for our wedding.” She jokes as she starts to move her fingers. You huff out a breathy laugh at the idea. You tilt your head to lean against hers.

“Alright, well none of your friends know about us. So I believe that leaves me as your only option,” you keep your tone light, not wanting her to think you're making a joke of her dilemmas, but still trying to cheer her up a bit. “Look, I want you to be able to come to me about anything. No matter how uncomfortable it may be for the both of us. But I'm not going to pressure you into talking to me if you're not ready to do that yet. That's part of taking it slow. We're gaining each other's trust in order to have difficult conversations.”

Wanda stops moving her fingers and wraps her hand around yours to give it a soft squeeze. “Thank you,” she says. You squeeze back and kiss the top of her head.

“We should get back to the party,” you suggest. Wanda nods and rises. She looks down at you, finally looking at you for the first time since she walked in. She doesn't see any anger or frustration in your expression. She only sees love and concern. She couldn't express herself to her ex-husband without him appearing annoyed or upset in some way.

Wanda surprises you with a soft chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you,” she whispers.

You smile and kiss her again. “I love you,” you say before letting go of your hand. You step out of her room first and rush to get away from the area without anyone noticing. Then Wanda rejoins the party a couple of minutes later.

Many Years Ago

“Wanda, I thought you were mature enough to handle this!” Vision shouts at her. They were celebrating his birthday but with that, came his favorite foods that were triggers for Wanda’s morning sickness. She had to run out of the room as soon as he brought the food out. The retching sounds disgusted him. Vision could hardly stand it.

Since Wanda was a great student and had enough credits to graduate early which she opted to do because she didn't want to have to answer too many questions about her pregnancy. It upset Vision because he expected her to simply drop out. He got scared and as though his plan was falling apart. Then she agreed to wait on getting a job until the baby could be put in daycare. It was a huge relief for him.

The two moved in together shortly after she completed her final class. Since she was no longer a student, she gave up her dorm room. It was a major adjustment for the couple. They were not very compatible as cohabitants. She wasn't as neat as he expected her to be. She was exhausted from the pregnancy and it was hard for her to pick up after the both of them. Vision got upset every time he had to clean his own messes that he expected her to clean up before he returned. But he thought he was able to keep his cool.

Wanda is in tears as he snaps at her yet again. She doesn't understand what she is doing wrong. This pregnancy is hard on her. She's nauseous much longer in the day than the morning. She isn't able to keep fit the way Vision keeps asking her to be. Nothing feels comfortable to wear. She can't go anywhere anymore.

“I'm sorry Vis,” Wanda says through her tears. “The boys are just-”

“What did you say?” Vision’s tone shifts into one of shock.

“I-I-I shoot! I ruined the… hold on,” Wanda walks away to grab one of the presents she bought to surprise him. It was a T-shirt with the ultrasound of the twin boys she was carrying. The shirt said “Boy Dad” along the top of the ultrasound image. She hands him the gift and as he opens it she explains, “At my last appointment I found out that we're having twins. And they're both boys.” She wipes her tears as she watches Vision for his reaction.

“We're having two boys?” He gasps, stunned by the news. Then he looks at Wanda with a wide grin. “We're having boys!” He envelopes her in a big hug to hold her close and kisses her in celebration.

Present Day

“Mom!! Look!” Billy proudly holds one of his presents up as him and Tommy unwrap their presents. The party was over, everyone had gone home except for Pietro and his family. The boys were eager to open their presents as they arrived with the guests but thankfully the other kids distracted them until the party was over.

“Wow! That's a nice present, who is it from?” Wanda asks as she writes down the name of the toy on a notepad. Billy rummages through the gift bag to find a card or tag. He finds a small gift card at the bottom of the bag and hands it to his mom so she can read it. She marks it down.

“Uncle P! Thank you!” Tommy shouts as he pulls out a box with a picture of a drone on it. Wanda shakes her head and groans.

“Why did you get him that? I told you not to,” Wanda sighs.

“Because it's cool!” Pietro cheers.

“It's so cool!” Tommy says with a grin.

Billy gets a saddened look on his face and Pietro notices. He pushes a box of similar size towards his nephew. “Don't think I forgot about you, pal,” he says and Billy lights up as he tears into the wrapping paper. Another drone is revealed as Billy and Pietro cheer. Wanda can't help but imagine all of the ways the boys will get in trouble with the drones. “Happy birthday boys,” Pietro says as his nephews pile on him to thank him with hugs.

Once the mess from the presents is cleaned up and Pietro and his wife have left with their sleeping girls and the new toys are put away, Wanda is tucking her boys into their beds.

“Mom?” Billy asks softly as Wanda smooths the blanket over her boy.

“Yes, Billy,” Wanda asks in a soft tone.

“I'm glad we didn't invite dad today,” he says as he looks down at his hands. “He can be mean sometimes. And he really doesn't like Y/n. We have to lie sometimes so he doesn't get mad that we saw Y/n.”

Wanda takes a deep breath as she smooths Billy's hair down. “I'm sorry that you have to lie to your dad.”

Billy shrugs, “It's okay. I like hanging out with Y/n. They're cool. They never get mad at me when I'm talking and they help me when I have problems. And sometimes when I don't understand some of my school work and they're here, I ask and they will show me so it makes sense.” His eyes get bright as he talks about you to his mom. It warms her heart to know that you're helping her boys with their school work.

“Yeah, they are really good at making things make sense,” Tommy says from his bed. “Dad just says we should know this stuff and walks away. The only thing dad wants to teach us is sports. Which I like but he gets really mad at Billy.”

Wanda looks between her boys, paying attention to the one that is speaking each time. As she hears about how her ex-husband treats their kids she shakes her head and mentally curses him out. He always claimed their kids would be smart because they were his kids. They are smart kids, but they both struggle with school work. It's not their fault, it can get confusing and sometimes they just need it to be explained in a different way in order for them to really grasp the subject. She knows this and so does Vision. But Vision is a lazy parent in this aspect. He believes that whatever explanation the teacher gave is all the boys need in order to get their homework and school work done. And because he teaches all day at the college, he refuses to come home and have to teach again. Which meant Wanda was left to do it on her own and is one of her biggest concerns when her boys go to his house because she's not there to help them with their homework.

“Is that true?” Wanda looks down at Billy again. Her son nods with a frown and scratches his nose.

“Yeah, I don't like sports. I like dancing and I even want to try out for the school play this year. But dad said no. I have to stick with sports,” he sighs, his expression of disappointment squeezing Wanda's heart.

“Don't worry about him. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Okay?” She says as he combs her fingers through his hair. Billy smiles a little as he looks up at his mom.

“You're the best mom ever. Did you know that?” Billy says sweetly. Wanda smiles down at her boy. Right now she feels like the worst mom for having chosen Vision to be their father. But she can't go back in time and change that because then she wouldn't have Billy and Tommy. She can't imagine life without them.

“Alright boys, get some rest. I'm sure your father has something planned for your birthday tomorrow,” she says as she gives them each one last kiss on their foreheads. As she is about to leave the room, she stops at the light switch. “I love you both. Happy birthday,” she smiles and flips the switch and closes the door before heading to bed.

Twelve Years Ago

Wanda is lying in the hospital bed, sweaty and exhausted. She has one of her newborn sons in her arms, her second child is in the arms of his father. She has tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe it. She is a wife and mother. She has a loving husband who hasn't stopped staring at the baby in his arms since the moment he picked him up.

“They're perfect,” Wanda whispers.

“Of course they are. They came from us,” he says happily. His eyes never leave the baby in his arms. He can’t stop gazing at his boy. His first born son. “You are perfect Billy,” he whispers to the baby. He chose the name William after William Shakespeare because it's a well recognized name. One day he hopes that William Vison Stark is just as recognized because he plans to raise him to be one of the most brilliant, powerful and successful men in history. Before, second, or equivalent to his brother Tommy. He was named after Thomas Edison. A great inventor. He hopes that his son gets the Stark genetics in that regard. His family is known to be great inventors. One day his brother, Anthony, will be a thing of the past because his son Thomas Erik Stark will be known as the greatest innovator. He will make certain of it.

Wanda is gazing down at her son Tommy, the baby is kicking slightly and she knows that he was the baby that kicked the most. “I can’t wait to know you,” she whispers. “I promise to protect your hopes and dreams. She smoothes down his tuft of hair and kisses his forehead. She is excited to tell her father her son’s middle name. Since she told him about her pregnancy, he would jokingly ask her that if the baby is a boy, she should name him after her father. Then she revealed that she was having two boys and he said “That’s perfect! One is named Erik, the other Magnus!” Wanda shakes her head at the memory. The remainder of her pregnancy, she spent fighting the men in her life on naming her kids after them. Then Vision came up with a compromise of having their middle names carry on his name and her fathers name.

“We are going to raise great men,” Vision grins at his wife.

Wanda giggles, “Let’s enjoy them as babies while we can.”

“Okay,” he says and leans over to kiss her lips. “I can agree to that. I love you.”

Wanda gives him a sleepy smile, “I love you too.”

Chapter 25

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff au #messedupfan #wanda marvel #wanda fanfic #wanda #wanda x reader #wandavision #wanda maximoff x y/n #wonderstruck #wonderstruck series

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boopiemadz · 9 days ago

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♫ Taylor Swift|Travis Martinez ♫

A/N:

Not sure if this concept makes any sense but whatever, I just wanted to attribute lyrics to songs that reminded me of Travis/ Travis in a relationship with reader. Also I have some stuff in my inbox im slowly working through (yellowjackets x cm) but I love getting asks or just general questions or statements in my inbox!

---

"But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm..." -Peace

Travis makes sure your always warm, especially in those long winter months. Anytime he sees you show any signs of a chill he will sacrifice his own warmth by giving you his outer layers. You would always contest this trying to convince him you were fine, but it was no use, he clung to you at night to give you warmth, boiled you water to drink, and even woke up early to start the fire for you when you wake up so that you could 'defrost' right away.

"I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, Chain 'round my neck. Not because he owns me, But 'cause he really knows me" -Call it what you want

Its not much, but it was something. Travis didnt even know it was your birthday, not until Misty brought it up. He felt like such a bad boyfriend for not knowing, I mean sure, they werent in the best spot to focus on things like that, but he knew that it was so important to you that you made sure to keep time in your notebook to make sure you didnt miss it. So instead of going out to hunt he convinced Nat to go alone as he took the time to gather supplies and handcraft a necklace for you. He used some dried leaf stems to make the chain, gathered pebbles from the lake shore to make holes in and use them as beads, lastly for a pendant Travis placed the ring he brought with him on the trip as the centre of the necklace. Ever since he gave it to you, you never took it off. Even when the two of you had moments of uncertainty the marker of love stayed right infront of your heart.

"I lived like an island, punished you with silence, Went off like sirens, just crying. Why'd I have to break what I love so much? It’s on your face, don't walk away, I need to say. Hey, it's all me, in my head, I'm the one who burned us down, But it's not what I meant. I'm sorry that I hurt you..." -Afterglow

Travis was never one to be the first to speak. He will admit he was a dick, cold and cruel. Everything in him faught to keep his facade, to be the man his father had taught him to be. You were a safety net, he found himself slipping and not intentially revealing layers of himself he never knew existed. The more he grew close, the more he distanced himself. You never took it well, you tried to understand but you could only do so much pushing and fighting until you just had to accept it, accept that you werent important enough for him to be vulnerable. When he saw the face you made when you looked at him, the way you would avoid eye contact, he realized he screwed up. Everything in him wanted to fight, but in that moment he knew, love had won, and he could no longer be this person if it meant never loving you.

"So you were never a saint and I loved in shades of wrong. We learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts. But this love is brave and wild!!" -State of grace

Neither of you were the perfect standout type. He never understood why you werent popular, he thought you were perfect, you shouldve been a saint, you were in his eyes. And obviously he knew he didnt know how to love, love was a word he had heard a minimal amount of times. Displaying love was never his strongsuit, but for some reason you made him want to try. Both broken, both full of pain and grief, yet in that came brightness in the glow of the gentle love that didnt heal, but patched the scars of pain.

"Uh-oh, I'm fallin' in love, Oh no, I'm fallin' in love again ,Oh, I'm fallin' in love. I thought the plane was goin' down how'd you turn it right around?" -Labyrinth

The day he realized he was in deep, he tried to swim back to shore. He didnt know what that fuzzy feeling felt, what that flutter was when you touched, how was he to know? But then he did find a word to describe it, love, what could he do but stand and stare. Then came the rush of fear, the running away, flood of regret that washed over him as he realized that if he loved you, and lost you, that would be way too much to handle, he would have nothing to live for. He couldnt be the man you deserved, he couldnt love you. Until you kissed him like you usually did, it was morning and you had come up to him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. He had been trying to distance himself that week, but that simple moment of soft warmth gave him hope, how did you manage to turn this plane wreck (no pun intended) into a field of darkness with a shining light.

"Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. They are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run. Baby, I know places we won't be found, and they'll be chasing their tails tryin' to track us down. 'Cause I, I know places we can hide. I know places, I know places..." -I know places

Through the times you were his in secret, he would take you away to a secret spot in the woods. A hollowed out stump right next to a creek, thats where he would take you when the noise of the group got too loud. The others had their suspicions, they dug and chased down answers, but when you were alone, none of it mattered. Not the hunts, not the hunger, not the wilderness, just for a second the rituals and suffering faded away, even for just a second.

"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" -Peace

Was he enough, enough for you. Everything he was, was the opposite of what you deserved. You shouldve never been put in this situation, none of the pain was fair. All you deserved was peace. But thats something he couldnt offer, he didnt even have it himself. But in those long nights what mattered more to you then him giving you peace, was him being there, by your side as the sun went down curled up in his arms. He never promised healing, he couldnt give you anything, but what was enough was love.

---

^^^ look at my man 🤭🤭😍😍😍

#yellowjackets #travis martinez #yellowjackets fandom #travis martinez fanfic #fanfiction #travis martinez x reader #yellowjackets headcanons #travis headcanons #taylor swift #yellowjackets x taylor swift #please look at my account if you like this #inbox open for anything #i love my moots just want to shoutout #viral #trending #yellowjackets fan fic

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ikeuberri · 5 months ago

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❛ WINTER LOVE ❜ 冬の愛 12/05/2024

𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 when being forced out of your apartment by your friends leads to meeting your soulmate.

— ( winter things ) nonidol!jake x fem! ༅ wc!1.8k ↯ genre!fluff, slight angst, strangers to ?? ✧ tw!swearing, bad parents, no use of y/n ☼ featuring!enha 02z, itzy chaeryeong, ive rei ( BOOKSHELF )

— ֙⋆⭑¡! ❛ koens note . ❜ hi loveys!! it’s my birthday, so I thought why not (finally) post something >.< ? anyway I wanna thank @icyy-hoon for helping me out with this, she’s such a sweetheart :) ps. this was a lot longer than I wanted it to be, and the ending is rushed since i was stressing about getting this out today *cry*..semi-proof read!!

"I'm going to report you guys for kidnapping me."

you grumbled as you reluctantly got into the car, along with both of your best friends, chaeryeong and rei. today was your birthday. you didn't really celebrate it, the day bringing back unwanted memories from your childhood. your parents weren't the best parents; of course they provided for you, but they never really...provided for you if you catch my drift. they were always working, so whenever your birthday came around, you weren't able to celebrate, and as you entered your twenties, nothing really changed, even after moving out at eighteen.

"calm down; you needed to get out of your apartment and have fun for once." chaeryeong shook her head as she got into the driver's seat. "it's not like we forced you to get in the car," rei added.

rei and chaeryeong were your best friends since middle school. both girls have been with you through everything; they were like sisters to you. since you three met, the both of them have always tried to do something with you for your birthday, even if it was small or on the balcony of your apartment, and you really appreciated them for that. Seriously. even with all their efforts, you still felt as if your birthday wasn't all that special. It always felt like a normal day for you.

as you leaned your head against the cold window, you watched as the snowflakes fell. even though your favorite season was autumn, you could always appreciate the beauty that winter brought. From the tasty, warm baked goods to the christmas decorations. the twinkling lights and the holiday spirit always brought a smile to your face. you found peace in it.

It was about fifteen minutes later when you realized the car had stopped. you lifted your head, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up front at the building that you guys had stopped in front of. It took you a while, but once you realized where chaeryeong and rei had taken you, you gasped out loud, quickly opening the car door without even waiting for them.

"we're ice skating?!"

you absolutely loved ice skating. It was probably the only thing your parents did well: getting you lessons for figure skating. It might sound a little cliché, but whenever you were on the ice, you felt free. like you could forget everything going on in your life and just be in the moment as you glided against the smooth ice. you had been so busy with life that you never had time to actually go out and do the one thing that made you feel peace.

you go to immediately hug the both of them as they step out of the car, wrapping your arms around the both of them and bringing them in. they must've known how much you needed this. It might've seemed simple to others, but to you, it meant the entire world. You don't know what you would do, or where you would be, without the two girls in your arms. the sound of their laughter fills you with love and warmth, reminding you that friendship is such a powerful thing.

"the ice isn't going anywhere!" chaeryeong called out as you pulled both her and rei towards the rink, disregarding the fact that they probably couldn't move that fast because of the skates. You were just too excited, wanting to get onto the ice as soon as you could, wanting to feel the freedom and peacefulness you missed so much. both girls let out happy giggles, clinging onto you for support. When you finally made it on the ice, you let out a happy sigh, immediately letting go of chaeryeong and rei’s hands. they watched you with fond smiles, understanding how much you needed this.

as you skated along the ice, all the worries and stress felt as if they were melting away. you felt a sense of calmness swarm over you. the cool air brushed against your face, the sound of the blades gliding against the ice acting as if a soothing melody to you. you turned your head, wanting to see if chaeryeong and rei were still behind you. they were, in their own little world, having their own little conversation. you were glad that they hadn't forced you to stay and talk to them, wanting to enjoy the peaceful feeling of ice skating after so long.

you can't remember the last time you felt so free.

as you continued to skate, lost in your own little peaceful world, you failed to realize the incoming traffic. you barely had any time to react before you had lost your balance. the stranger you bumped into quickly reached out to try and help you, but to no avail, because when you grabbed his arm out of reflex, you both ended up falling onto the ice together. and although you felt extremely embarrassed from falling in front of a bunch of people, you couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

the stranger quickly stands up, spitting out apology after apology as he helps you up. It was then that you got to finally look at the strange man's face. you couldn't lie and say that you stopped breathing for a minute. (a little dramatic, but it's true!)

to say that the stranger was handsome was an understatement. he looked as if he were sculpted by the gods themselves. his face was defined yet soft, framed by dark brown hair that fell ever so slightly over his forehead. his eyes were brown, like a warm cup of hot chocolate, and they held a certain concern and kindness that was almost as mesmerizing as his face.

"I'm so sorry. are you okay?"

his voice was smooth like honey, like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a cold night.

"bo, no, I'm okay. seriously, I should've been paying attention to where I was going." you smile sheepishly, trying to hide the slight embarrassment that crept up your cheeks. he chuckled softly, the sound of it causing warmth to spread through you. "accidents happen; no harm done," he reassured. you both exchanged a moment of awkward silence; you had no idea how to go on, and before you could even get anything out, he spoke.

"well…uh, my friends are calling me back over." he said, nodding his head towards the direction behind you, causing you to turn your own head, your eyes landing on two other (attractive) men. you immediately recognized one of them as Sunghoon. the both of you attended the same uni; you never really had a proper conversation, the ones you did have consisting of asking for a piece of paper or what assignment was due next. he seemed to recognize you as well as he smiled, waving at you. you simply gave an awkward wave back, turning back over to look at the man in front of you.

"you know sunghoon?" he asked, confusion obvious in the way his voice slightly raised and the slight furrow of his eyebrows. "We go to the same uni." you wondered why you never saw the man in front of you before, finding it obvious that they must've gone to the same uni as well since they were friends, but you just chalked it up to you being in different departments.

he simply nodded, and starting to skate towards the two men, he briefly turned around with a small smile.

"I'm jake, by the way. I'll see you around."

and that you did, because after that simple interaction, you started seeing him and his friends everywhere. It was starting to feel a little creepy. were they always around? the entire situation made you feel a little paranoid. (even though you knew it was probably just a coincidence.)

It was currently about eight in the evening, and you were out on your daily walks. you always loved taking walks, finding the activity to be a stress reliever or just something to clear your mind. as you walked through the bustling street, the snow making a satisfying crunching noise below your while boots, you, once again, were too deep in thought to be paying attention to where you were going, thinking about a conversation you had with chaeryeong and rei earlier that day. and of course, things were never on your side as you bumped into someone. you blink in surprise, snapping out of your thoughts and looking up to see jake, who was looking at you, just as surprised as you.

"you know, it's starting to get a little weird how much we've seen each other around since your little... slip-up." he said, a small, amused smile on his face as he gazed down at you. You chuckle nervously at him mentioning the embarrassing moment from almost two weeks ago.

there was a moment of silence before you sighed, looking into his (beautiful) eyes.

"would you like to walk with me?"

he seemed surprised by that, yet he nodded nonetheless, moving to start walking beside you, his hands in the pocket of his coat, trying to keep them warm and away from the cold and snowy weather.

"so... what do you major in?" you asked after about five minutes of silence.

"computer science, you?"

you couldn't help but be shocked at that. you heard that computer science was a hard major. (your source being rei, who complained to no end about it.) you couldn't say that you weren't impressed by that.

"I'm majoring in psychology; I've always found the human mind fascinating," you explained, your eyes lighting up as you spoke about it. "that's really cool," he nodded, showing genuine interest in what you were saying. "I've always thought understanding people was just as important as understanding machines and technology."

and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It was like you were talking to an old friend. you loved the fact that you were able to become so comfortable with him in such a short amount of time. you felt like he had the ability to make anyone feel comfortable and at ease, which made you appreciate his presence even more than you already did.

dventually, they both made it back to your apartment. You stood in front of the entrance; the fact that neither of you wanted this conversation to end was obvious. As you were about to say goodbye, he cut you off.

"how many times are you going to bump into me until you give me your number?"

you looked up at him, mouth slightly agape, surprised by his boldness. you shook your head, holding out your hand for his phone. he seemed as if he was expecting you to reject him by the way he fumbled to get his phone, eventually handing it to you. As you typed in your contact information, you couldn't help but feel as if this was the start of something new..the start of something you knew you weren't going to regret.

"bye, jake," you said softly as you handed his phone back over to him. he smiled, waving bye as he started to walk off.

maybe you didn't hate your birthday anymore.

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francisjohnpatrickmulcahy · 7 months ago

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William Christopher was born 92 years ago today. Although he's no longer with us and unable to ever see this, I would nonetheless like to express my gratitude for what his performance as Father Mulcahy meant to me, particularly when I was young.

Without getting to deep in the weeds about my issues as a child, it was when I was 13 when my childhood troubles were at their worst and when I first really got into MASH. It was something I enjoyed watching with my parents (and still do), and it was on TV Land at the time-slot when I got home from school, so it was something I looked forward to on a daily basis. Mind you I was deconstructing my Christian faith at that age and a horrible edge-lord about it, so there was no way in hell that I was going to admit that Father Mulcahy was my favorite character and that I had just a lil' crush on him because he's so dang cute! However an important part of Mulcahy's purpose in the story was to provide wisdom, strength and comfort to others; things I needed in abundance at that time and wished there was a person like that in my life I could talk to. Now that I'm much older and better know who I am as a person, I still think of Mulcahy when I need such inspiration.

There's a lot I would like to say, but maybe not so much to everyone on the internet. Suffice it to say I wish I had sent William Christopher the fan letter I wanted to send him when I was young to thank him for the comfort and laughter his character provided for me in a time when it was hard for me to be able to laugh. He put so much heart into his performance of Father Mulcahy and made it all feel genuine. I'm not good at saying these things, but I know there's a lot of you out there who probably feel similarly. I want to thank you guys in particular for the times since I started this blog when you've given me comfort when I needed it, whether directly or vicariously, and I can only hope to return the favor when the opportunity presents itself.

To someone whose work was a source of inspiration, laughter and comfort to me at a vulnerable age and continues to bring me and many others a great deal of joy: Happy birthday, William Christopher!

#william christopher #father mulcahy #father francis mulcahy #mash #m*a*s*h #mashposting #mashblr #mashblogging #francis mulcahy #mash 4077

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joons · 6 months ago

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okay no wait, I'm so curious your thoughts on the elvis mythology! I'm trying to think of an example haha. anyway, thank you for that food for thought. your takes on elvis are so interesting and kind of a different perspective than I normally see

Thank you! That means a lot because I do love going into his psychology and thinking about how he thought about things. And I love being able to engage with Elvis stuff from all different angles!

I can think of a few - like there will be people who were close to him who make such absolute statements about him: he refused to wear blue jeans, he hated eating fish, he loved eating peanut butter/banana/bacon sandwiches, he was afraid of germs, he wouldn't sleep with women who were mothers. But not all of those are true for him 100% of the time, or they seem to be big outliers where no one else has reported anything like that. And as you read more, you can see moments where he behaves differently than these big eccentricities that people pin on him, and you have to think about why that might be. You pick up little clues that you can put together to figure out what he meant. Did he have an almost pathological dislike of blue jeans because they reminded him of his childhood poverty, or did he just tell one of his band members that because he had made a brusque joke about the guy wearing blue jeans in front of a bunch of people and wanted to find a way to apologize without apologizing? Was he covering up behavior he was ashamed of, or was he revealing the real shame that drove him to look his best and make sure his entourage looked their best too? Did he actually have an aversion to women after they had given birth (unlikely, since he had relationships with several mothers), or did he want to give Priscilla a reason for avoiding her that she couldn't work around, knowing that she always went overboard trying to change herself to get his attention and getting rid of things she thought were coming between them (his spiritual books/Larry Geller/etc.)? Was this just one of a long line of excuses he made for not truly being in love with her and not wanting to try anymore? Did he actually eat the same sandwich every day, or did he just make a big deal about it one time because it was Lisa's birthday and he wanted to fly her somewhere special? And the other stuff he did eat every day, did he do it because it was one of the few things in his life he had control over, and could extract comfort from, or did he do it because, as he told Larry, he wanted to make himself sick of it so that it would no longer be a temptation? And how much of these conversations are either hearsay or someone putting words in his mouth to absolve themselves of something that bothered them?

The long and short of it is that people have sometimes reported things he said or did without any surrounding context, or it gets stripped away when it's reported elsewhere, and we are left with these moments that don't make sense or tell us anything about him unless we see how he dealt with them throughout his life, around different people, and see him as a whole person and not the Elvis Image that he tended to embrace when it suited him and resent when it hurt him. A really great moment that I think shows how Elvis tended to approach things is reported by Steve Binder, where he said Parker was telling Elvis absolutely not to do something, and Steve felt like Elvis just kind of shut down and mumbled "yes" until Parker left, and then Elvis' eyes flashed and he turned to Steve and said, "Fuck him," and did what he wanted to do. He was a people pleaser! A huge one! He valued loyalty above honesty. He was willing to lie to people he cared about if he felt that it would avoid a confrontation, and sometimes that tipped into a selfish "I want to do things my way," and sometimes that tipped into a selfless "I want them to have everything I can give them." And he waffled between those extremes because of his own low self-esteem and loneliness. I'm! Screaming! About this! At all times! He is an unreliable narrator, he's such a bubble of emotions that pops with the slightly scratch, he's so complex that you are not sure if he wants the bubble to be an opaque shield or a transparent boundary that you can slip through. He was testing people all the time to know if he could trust them with his heart without expecting him to be the Elvis Image, telling them things that were an invitation and a challenge and an insult and a declaration of love all at once, and so much of the problem we deal with now is that people are still completely uninterested in these depths. I???? Love him??? And the things he can help us learn about ourselves??? Just by trying to see him as he really was????

I don't know, I just get very overwhelmed!!!!

#elvis presley #there aren't always completely right answers to any of these questions but i love guessing

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vlrghoes · 9 months ago

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What Once Was | Chapter One

author’s note: I edited and proof read this after coming back from the club so if you see something wrong don’t be afraid to point it out as I’m quite friendly anyway!

I still don’t know if I like this chapter but overall I’m just shy about sharing my work because I’m hyper judgmental of my own work but I still wanted to share this with you guys anyway.

The chapters after this will be set a few years after this (which will be clarified in the chapters)

I’m English so if anything is wrong in terms of America and the health practices please forgive me!

I’m literally yapping now but I do want to say that I can’t promise chapter two will come in under 2 weeks as I’ve just finished my law degree and landed my dream job (not related to my degree) and I start training next Sunday and it’s for 5 weeks, really intense and with exams almost every day and if I mess up I lose my job. (Not sure if it’s obvious what my job is but anyways.) Also it’s my birthday on Wednesday and I’m celebrating Thursday so less time to write!

cw/tw: death, pregnancy complications, heavy angst, references to mental health and body dysmorphia/body image issues

word count: 4370 (I never usually write more than 2k so this is weird for me)

tag list (ask to be added): @trippinsorrows @cyberdejos2 @maeb99 @southerngirl41 @callmekayd @trentybenty @tian-monique @rose-bliss (if your name isn’t in grey, it’s not letting me tag you but I’ll try in the comment section)

masterlist

“You’re choosing that stupid title over your family again.” Ayanna’s voice cracked, the finality of her words hanging in the air as Joe stood frozen, his guilt palpable and his resolve wavering. She had spent all day running around the house and decorating for their special day. She spent hours preparing a nice steak dinner for the two of them, however it had been left untouched, the wait quelling her appetite as she now only felt sick. The dress she picked out now felt too revealing, no longer complimenting her body. Suddenly it clung to all the wrong parts and accentuated her weight gain, making her feel like a whale instead. The candles in the house had melted to the point where the fire had flickered out and the playlist she had queued just sounded like white noise at this point. Nothing matters anymore because Joe is late, late home once again and Ayanna is reaching breaking point. She spent hours waiting for him after she prepared their dinner, but all the effort didn’t matter anymore because instead of romance, the air was filled with tension and dread. “You know they’re due any day now, Joe how could you do this to me, to us. How can you still be wrestling so soon to my due date?” She said, her voice filled with emotion as she tried to steady herself. She didn’t want to cry, she had cried so much this entire pregnancy and she felt miserable. Instead of having that pregnancy glow like Rihanna, she had the life sucked out of her and she just felt lifeless.

“Look baby, I'm sorry.” Joe began, trying to figure out mentally how to get himself out of the trouble he was in. It wasn’t his fault, the media day for Wrestlemania was meant to finish much earlier but they took longer to set up, in turn making Joe’s interview (which was last) late. He had intended to be home earlier but it just seemed like the universe had other plans.

“Don’t even bother” Ayanna sighed, playing with the ring on her finger which now felt like it weighed a tonne. When they first got together, he gave it to her as a promise he’d marry her and whilst he did deliver on that promise, since getting pregnant and no longer being able to join him on the road she wondered if it was worth it sometimes. It’s not that she didn’t love Joe, hell sometimes she thinks she loves him too much. However she now isn’t sure if he loved her more than that title. He used to be so romantic; he’d bring her flowers every single day no matter what, he’d take her on dates, even small ones that weren't as lavish and she loved it. But the more he climbed up the ranks of WWE, the less the romance was there. Then shortly after he became champion everything stopped. Their marriage hit the rocks as he was never home and he started to miss things such as birthdays and christmases, so to save their marriage Ayanna gave up everything and joined him on the road. It was all going great until her later stages of pregnancy which stopped her from travelling with him but the most important thing for Ayanna was that he never missed an anniversary.

Well that was until now.

“Do you even know what day it is?” Ayanna asked, her voice quiet as she watched his mind tick, the cogwheels visabilly spinning with his face scrunched up in confusion, dull eyes squinting until it all finally clicks and he looks at her horrified. “You know, as bad as you’ve been lately, I always used to say ‘at least he’d always remembered our anniversary’ but it seems I can’t even say that anymore.” She spits, her heart breaking as the words leave her mouth.

“Yana” he started, feeling dizzy as he watched her flinch, a look almost of disgust flashing within her eyes. The nickname didn’t bring the butterflies it used to bring anymore, instead it forced a swell of emotion that made her feel like she could spew her guts any second. She used to look at him in adoration, but as the years passed the glimmer in her eyes decreased daily until they were fully extinguished. “Baby things are going to change after wrestlemania, I promise. Just one more match, after this I promise I’ll ask Vince again for some time off, I’m sure he’ll give it to me this time.”

The both of them knew that he was telling her what he wanted her to hear, the same conversation being repeated so many times to the point where they felt like they were in limbo. The last time Joe had asked, Vince told him he couldn’t have time off as he was their top star and Joe simply didn’t ask again. He always seemed to lack a backbone in situations that require him having one, but is happy to have a backbone and be stubborn when he doesn't need to be. Ayanna was exhausted, carrying one baby is hard enough but of course Joe carried the twin gene so she was carrying two instead and it felt like they were draining the life from her body. “I just want you to be present Joe, I feel like a single mother despite being married.” She pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. No one ever mentioned how lonely pregnancy is. She had lost many friends as she couldn’t go out to the club or drink anymore which meant that she spent days on end staring at the four walls of her bedroom watching the time pass as she waited up for Joe to come home. She sighed, tears threatening to well in her eyes which made her mentally curse. Stupid baby hormones. “You made the same promise last time, I don’t think you understand that one day I may not be here. You’ve missed so much already and you will never get this time back.”

She waited for Joe to say something, anything that could save the situation and at some points she felt like he was. But he’d then swallow the words back with a bitter taste and instead just looked at her in defeat. Nothing could save Ayanna for the despair she felt and she felt stupid even having this conversation with him. Instead, she gives him one more look over, a silent plea to say something or do something but the window of time closes as soon as she opens and she ends up turning on her feet and going to bed. She kept her room door ajar, hoping he’d come and knock, give her the tight hugs he used to give her and shower her in kisses and apologies but it never happens.

Joseph himself didn’t know what to do. They had the fairytale romance all their friends envied when they were younger, he was the promising D1 football player and she was a shoe-in to be a future Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. They looked good together and spent years in their honeymoon phase, yet somehow as they grew older the fairytale had started to wear off. He looked around the room with a frown, his stomach twisting and his heart aching as he realised exactly how much effort she had put in for their anniversary dinner and in that moment he felt like a horrible person. He knew he needed to pack as he was leaving at 5AM to get a jet for Wrestlemania but a large part of him wanted to go and fix the situation. But he knew nothing could ever fix it. They promised each other that they’d never go to bed without resolving an argument but that promise got broken several times to the point of which it no longer had any weight. So instead, Joe went into the walk-in closet and packed his things, believing that there’s nothing he could do to fix the situation.

That night, for the first time in their marriage the couple slept in separate rooms. Joe in the guest room tossing and turning in his own guilt, whilst Ayanna tried her hardest to muffle her sobs in the pillow. Her tears soaked the case through and her heart shattered in the pieces.

The next morning, Ayanna woke with the worst headache. Her head was pounding so intensely it hurt to open her eyes, however she put it down to the fact she spent all night crying and didn’t sleep. She called out for Joe, hoping he’d be home still so they could make up after their argument and wish him luck tonight as no matter what she loved him and didn’t want to continue on with another argument. But as she made it to the guest room, she realised it was too late and he was already gone. Her heart splintered like fragile glass, and she wept until the well of her tears ran dry, leaving her hollow and desolate.

“Fix your face uce.” His cousin Joshua says with a nudge. Joe having a face like a slapped ass and a snappy attitude had become too common these days and the twins, Joe’s only confidants, knew exactly what was going on. They’d grown up with Joe and practically spent their whole lives with Ayanna through her association with Joe, meaning they had been privy to almost all of the couple’s relationship issues.

“He’s right, every day you walk around here with the face you used to have when my dad used to whoop us all for breaking the window with the football.” Jonathon adds on, a small chuckle escaping from his twin brother as the memory of that day flashes through him. The twins and Joseph had grown up together due to their parents living next door to one another. Rikishi, the twin’s father and Joe’s uncle would say the twins were a bad influence. However everyone who knew them knew that it was actually Joe, he always managed to get away from it all by snitching on the boys before they could save themselves. Which is what led to all of them getting chased with a broom stick as children after Joseph broke the window as they were all playing football, but instead of admitting it he blamed the twins whilst the twins blamed him so the punishment was collective.

“Are you fighting with Yana again?” Joshua asks, earning him a dirty look from both his twin brother and Joseph as the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. The two of them somehow manage to fight more than Joshua and his baby mother, and the pair of them were never even together, just a stupid one night stand.

The pair wait for Joseph to say something but it becomes more and more obvious that he has nothing to say, but the situation is clearly bothering him. Jonathan, the self-labelled “mature” one out of the twins, felt it was best to offer some advice, even if Joe didn’t ask. “Man, I don’t know what’s going on but I know you two have been together since you were both thirteen, whatever it is you’ll make it through it. You guys have always found a way.” The advice, albeit sweet, doesn't really make a difference for Joe. But thankfully he gets called for his press conference anyway so he doesn’t have to engage in the conversation further and he shifts from vulnerable ‘Joe’ to the formidable ‘Roman,’ like a Jekyll turning into Hyde, shedding his worries and fears to become the stoic, unyielding figure everyone dreads.

Joe never really cared for press conferences, however since he was the face of the company he was obligated to fulfil every duty in his contract. He was always used to giving the cookie cutter answers to the usual questions like “what are your expectations tonight?” and “how do you feel about your opponent?” However, he gets caught off guard when someone in the crowd asks "with the demands of your career, how do you balance your professional and personal life, especially with your wife expecting?" The question then places a pang of guilt in his stomach once more as he’s forced to remember their argument from last night. He really wanted to speak to her before he left but he didn’t want to wake her up and his flight was too early for him to stay. He took a thought and tried to compose an appropriate answer before taking a small breath.

“It’s a challenge, no doubt.” He began, slightly sounding defensive whilst making sure to try and make eye contact with the journalist in the crowd to make sure he appeared engaged in the topic. “But I’ve always believed that if you’re committed to something, you find a way to make it work. My family understands what this career means to me, and I make sure to be there for them as much as I can. After tonight, I’m looking forward to some quality time with them.” The words feeling hollow knowing his home life isn’t in a good place.

At home, Ayanna rubs her temples trying to quell the headache that has seemed to intensify from earlier on. She sits on the sofa, her head spinning from the pain when a sharp, twisting pain in her abdomen causes her to shift positions. “It can't be.” she mumbles, it was too early. The twins were not meant to be due yet, she had an entire plan for Joe’s mother to come down and stay in the guest room and help her for the last week of her pregnancy up until the babies hit six months, this can’t be happening. Her phone lay on the coffee table, just out of reach. She stared at it, debating whether to call Joseph or not. But he was probably in the middle of his press conference. She didn’t want to worry him—she could handle this.

She bided her time, until the pain suddenly intensified, radiating from her abdomen up to her chest. Ayanna’s breath hitched, panic creeping in as she realised something was seriously wrong. She forced herself to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her. The room spun, and she fell back onto the couch, gasping for air. She gave in and phoned Joe first, his phone going straight to voicemail as she thought before hanging up, her hands trembling as she dialled 911.“Please” she began with a gasp, struggling to even breathe, “I think something’s wrong I'm pregnant, and I—” Her voice broke off as another wave of pain hit her, harder this time as she screamed, the sound of her pained yells bouncing off the walls.

Joe, pleased with his answer to the first question, felt like he was in the clear and that would be it for the interview but then another question hit him. "There have been rumours that you were considering taking some time off after this match. Can you confirm or deny that?" The question made him feel hot under the collar, he didn’t want to give a definitive answer as Vince had already turned down his request and he didn’t want to put himself in a position that gets him in trouble. He hated it about himself and in a way he also hated Vince for putting him in this situation, however deep down he knew that he was at fault. No matter what, he was a coward and tried to avoid rocking the boat at work but all that has done is cause problems in his marriage.

He once again flashes that million dollar smile that he knew the ladies loved the most before positioning his answer. “Right now, I’m focused on tonight. Whatever comes after, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’ve heard the rumours, but my priority is to go out there, put on a hell of a show, and take care of business. The rest will fall into place." He was cool and composed, everything a champion should be, however, the answer in itself was very evasive. It was as though he had mastered the art of saying much while revealing nothing, leaving everyone guessing what truly lay beneath.

Ayanna’s vision blurred as she tried to focus on the operator’s voice. “Stay with me, ma’am, help is on the way,” the voice said, but Ayanna could barely hear it over the pounding in her head. She doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as the baby kicked wildly inside her. Her thoughts were a jumble of fear and regret. She should have told Joseph—should have insisted he stay home. But it was too late now. The darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer, and she knew she was running out of time

Joe looked at the crowd, wanting to go backstage and get ready for his match, a sigh of relief leaving his body as he’s told this is the last question of the conference. "Any plans to celebrate after the match, or will you be rushing home to be with your family?”

Joe smiled, the question feeling so bittersweet as he’d love to have Ayanna in the crowd like she usually is tonight, but that isn’t the case. "We’ll see how the night goes. My family’s always been my anchor, so I’ll be getting back to them as soon as I can. But first, I’ve got to take care of business in that ring."The reporters nodded, satisfied with his answer. Joseph glanced at the time—just a few more minutes, and he could get back to his routine. But he had no idea that his world was about to shatter.

Ayanna’s strength was fading fast. She clutched her phone, the operator’s voice a distant echo in her ears. “Hold on, ma’am, the paramedics are almost there,” but Ayanna’s world was already slipping away.

The last thing she felt was the sharp pain in her head, then—darkness.

The crowd was electric as Joe stepped into the ring, his face stoic as he played with his wrists to loosen them up. The glamour and feel of Wrestlemania never gets old, but he stayed focused, his mind locked in on the match and his eyes focused on his opponent. He couldn’t afford any distractions - not tonight.

The bell rang, and he moved with precision, every punch, every kick calculated. He could feel the weight of the championship on his shoulders, the expectations of the fans, the promise he had made to himself to be the best. Minutes felt like seconds as the match intensified, the crowd on their feet, chanting his name. With a final, devastating move, Joseph pinned his opponent to the mat. The referee’s hand slapped the canvas—one, two, three.

The crowd booed as Joseph was declared the winner, his arm raised in victory, gutted that their golden boy Cody Rhodes had lost the title. The championship belt was handed to him, and he held it high, basking in the glory of the moment. For a few seconds, everything was perfect. But beneath the cheers and jeers, he felt an uneasy feeling run through him, it was almost as if his body was trying to warn him that this victory came at a price—one that would haunt him long after the spotlight dimmed.

After the match he walked backstage, sweat dripping down his face but a victorious smile plastered on his lips. Fellow wrestlers patted him on the back, congratulating him on another win, another title defence. He had done it again—proven why he was the best. But it didn’t feel the same without Ayanna there to give him a kiss and tell him how proud she was of him. He longed to have her sweet floral scent dancing though his nose, he simply missed her and he was going to make it his mission to call her immediately and apologise and make it up to her. In fact, he was going to ask Vince again for time off or just go to Hunter and get him to explain to Vince.

As he headed toward his locker room, he saw Vince stood them with a solemn expression. His heart dropped, usually if Vince looks at you like that you’ve done a terrible job and you’re about to be pulled off TV. “Joe, we need to talk,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.”

Joseph frowned, still riding the high of his victory. “What’s up, Vince? I’ve got some celebrating to do and I need to call my wife.”

Vince hesitated, his face pale. “Joe, it’s Ayanna… She had a stroke during labour. She had tried to call you as she was going into labour but you were in the press conference.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. “What?” he whispered, his heart plummeting. “No… no, that can’t be right.” His mind scrambled to reject what he’d just heard, clinging to disbelief as though it could keep the truth at bay.

Vince’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he continued, “I haven’t heard anything else, however I would suggest that you take the jet and go to the hospital now. We will cover you in the post match press conference.” The championship belt slipped from Joseph’s grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The noise of the backstage area faded into nothingness as Joseph stood frozen, disbelief and horror washing over him.

Joseph’s heart pounds as he bursts through the hospital doors, the sounds of WrestleMania’s victory still ringing in his ears. But as he’s confronted by the white walls of the ICU, his triumph feels meaningless, distant. Joseph’s hands trembled as he pushed through the hospital doors, his mind a whirl of fear and denial. He moved as if in a trance, barely registering the people around him as he demanded to be taken to Ayanna.

“Where’s Ayanna? Where are my kids?” he demands, his voice edged with panic.

The receptionist’s eyes flickered with sorrow, looking around in desperation as she did not want to be the one to be here when the news was broken to him. Luckily for her, the doctor steps forward. “Mr. Anoa’i, I’m so sorry. Your wife suffered a massive stroke shortly after going into labour. By the time she got here, there was nothing we could do to reverse the damage. Her brain activity ceased before we could save her.”

Joseph’s breath catches, his world starting to crumble. “What… what do you mean? Where is she? Can I see her?” His voice wavered, a desperate plea for a reality that was slipping through his fingers.

The doctor hesitates, his tone measured but heavy. “We had to make a decision quickly, Mr. Anoa’i. We kept her on life support long enough to deliver the twins via emergency C-section. It was the only way to save their lives.”

For a moment, Joseph just stares, unable to comprehend the words. “You… you kept her alive just to deliver the babies?” His voice is raw with disbelief and rising fury. He couldn’t believe what was being said to him, Ayanna being reduced to a baby making machine made him feel beyond sick. They could’ve had another baby, but he could never have another Ayanna. “She wasn’t just some fucking incubator! She was my wife! She is my wife, why didn’t you save her?!”

The doctor’s eyes hold steady, though full of sympathy. “She made that decision herself. Your wife signed an advanced directive, instructing us to prioritise the babies if anything went wrong. She knew the risks and chose this course.”

The words hit Joseph like a sledgehammer. Ayanna had known this could happen and made a decision without him—a decision that had ripped her from his life. Anger surged and then ebbed away, leaving a hollow ache where it had been. He had spent his life with her, and now, learning to live without her seemed an insurmountable challenge, a cruel twist of fate.

“Where are they?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, eyes vacant.

One of the nurses gently guides him to the room where the newborns lie in their incubators. They’re tiny, fragile, and perfect. But as Joseph looks at them, he’s overwhelmed not with the joy he expected but with a deep, unsettling mix of sorrow and resentment. They’re here, alive and breathing, but Ayanna is gone. She sacrificed herself for them, and Joseph can’t help but feel a stab of resentment toward these tiny beings who cost him everything. He stands over the incubators, his hands shaking as he touches the glass. The twins stir slightly, their small cries echoing in the sterile room, but all Joseph feels is an unbearable, suffocating grief—and an anger he can’t reconcile. Whilst he was angry at the world, he was also mad at himself. What sick bastard resents an innocent child? He thought, trying to force the feeling out of his heart, but it was no use. He just couldn't stop himself being filled with disgust when he looked at them, especially as they both look exactly like her. It felt like some cruel punishment from the universe for his wrongdoing.

Finally, he forces himself to pick up one of the babies, holding the child close to his chest. The warmth of his newborn is supposed to bring him comfort, but instead, it feels like a weight pressing down on him, reminding him of what he’s lost. Tears blur his vision as he collapses into a nearby chair, the sound of the twins’ cries filling his ears. But instead of the joy and love he once imagined, all Joseph can feel is a hollow emptiness and a dark, creeping resentment that only deepens his guilt. The nurse gently touched his shoulder, but Joseph barely noticed. He sank into a chair, the twins still wailing in his arms, as tears streamed down his face. The world had stopped making sense. He had won the match, but in doing so, had lost everything that truly mattered, as if triumph had come at the cost of his very soul.

#roman reigns #liyah’s literature #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black oc #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wwe imagine #wwe x black oc #whatoncewas

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miniaturesuitgladiator · 7 months ago

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Slugbug! No slugbug back!

Notes: this is just a drabble for my series that I'm still making. I just wanted a little story behind readers car. So this doesn't include any of the batfam sorry....

Warning: None ( readers dad might sound a little yander but he's not. He's just a girl dad.🤷‍♀️)

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

If someone asked about you to anyone in your small town the first thing they would know is your a daddy's girl. Not in a ' you get everything you want' spoiled girl way. No, you were a daddy's girl because more often then not you were spotted by your father. For example: if your father would be fixing a car you'd be the one holding the flash light ,or if you had a bad day at school everyone knew the first person you would tell was your father.

And sure maybe he did spoil you a little ,but thats only because you're a good kid(you can do no wrong in his eyes). And maybe you were his favorite kid but just by a little ( everyone knows your his favorite child by ALOT).

So yeah maybe he does spend some money on you but you're his baby you deserve it. So it was a surprise to absolutely no one when he got you a car for your sixteenth birthday.

So a couple of months before your birthday your father started looking for your first car. Now you were his baby but he always made sure not to go over board with spoiling you. After all he wanted you to grow up right ( and because your mother wouldn't let him buy you a brand new car.)

so your father went to a car lot that sold used cars ,but nothing really caught his eye. So he went somewhere he knew he could just about anything. The junk yard.....

Now Your father wasn't gonna let you drive around in some peace of junk if that's what your thinking. No, he knew that somewhere in this trashy place there was some gold pieces that were just waiting to be discovered.

So after about 2 hours of looking he found the perfect car! It was in great condition the only downside was that the motor was garbage. So he did what he had to do he bought the car and with the few months he had left he used all his spare time to rebuild the motor.

After the motor was rebuilt and the car was up and driving he still wasn't satisfied. So he had the car costume painted. After that he still wasn't satisfied so he bought new tires and rims too... he wanted to customize it a little more but he didn't have time(and cause your mother wouldn't let him..).

Anyway so after your big party and dinner with all your family and friends..you got your big surprise!

So in the middle of your drive way with a big pink bow on top stood your (practically) new car!

It was a Volkswagen Beetle in your favorite color! With new wheels and rims! It had like 5 miles on it ... and a brand new interior that your dad did! ( that your mother was not very happy with ... since it probably would have been cheaper just to buy you a new car.).

Everyone smiled when the seen the car because it was just so you! See you played this game that your dad taught you ever since you could remember. You don't recall the name but it's a simple game. Every time you see a Volkswagen Beetle you yell "slugbug! No slugbug back!" And you win there's no points... it's really just dumb but you play it with everyone... And you learned it from your dad...

So it's no wonder why when you seen your car your eyes welled up with tears.. sure this might not have been your dream car no... but this was special and everyone knew that...

So without a second thought in front of everyone you run up to your dad and give him a big and tight hug....just like you used too when he would come back from work... and he hugged you back just like he used to even he was tired from work....

Because this car meant something .... not only did it mean that you could take yourself wherever you wanted... it meant you were growing up ,and wouldn't be his little princess for much longer.........

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @dhanyasri , @kore-of-the-underworld , @i-adorehannah

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aro-of-argentum · 20 days ago

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The Judas Arrangement

WC: 2,629

Notes: This is a snippet from a Dabi/Touya Todoroki xReader project I'm currently working on and I wanted to share it as a sneak peek for the full fic I will eventually be putting out! Mentions of character death, grief and attempts to manage it, mentions of arranged marriage, Natsuo is doing his best, it isn't enough.

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

You were sitting in the same place you always did on January eighteenth, staring at the words carved into stone. Beloved son and brother. The sentimental phrase made your stomach turn. Touya was beloved, certainly, by you, by his siblings, and even by his mother, despite the strain in their relationship toward the end. But the man who paid for the headstone couldn’t have cared less. Endeavor had pushed his family to move on from the boy’s passing as soon as the cameras were pointed elsewhere, and despite their grief, they obeyed. You were the only one that visited this place now, the only one that tended to it.

Your knees were settled into the dirt at the base of the stone, and you remained, as you always did, despite the chill that seemed to seep into your very bones. The sound of footsteps on the earth was your alert you were no longer alone.

“You shouldn’t be out here like this, you’ll freeze.”

You knew he meant well, you honestly did, but for some reason you’d woken up in worse condition than you had in years for these visits. You were emotionally raw, and there was no room in your heart to be understanding of Natsuo’s feelings when the only thing you felt was despair.

You swallowed thickly to dislodge the lump in your throat before you spoke. “I’ve asked not to be disturbed while I’m here.” You continued to stare into the stone, eyes glassy but refusing to drip in front of your fiancé. He’d try to care for you if he saw you cry, and you couldn’t handle that right now. You wouldn’t have the patience to thank him and tell him he was being a good partner and dote on him in return.

He explained, “It isn’t your usual day,” as though that excused the interruption.

“It’s his birthday, Natsuo.”

“I know that.” He sighed, a tiredness creeping into his voice, though if it was caused by your behavior or the day, you weren’t sure. “That’s how I knew I’d find you here when you stopped answering my messages.”

A hum of disinterested acknowledgement left you as a vague awareness pinged in your brain to tell you that, yes, your phone had been buzzing the whole time you’d been here. You’d left it tucked in your bag anyway. “Why did you come here?” There was no accusation in your tone despite the 12-year-old little girl in your chest screaming that Natsuo should come here because he cares, not just to find you.

“My father asked to see us for lunch at his agency. We’re going to be late if we don’t-”

“Go without me,” you refused without hesitation. “Tell him I’m sick; I’ll apologize to him tomorrow.”

Natsuo was quiet for a moment before he admitted, “He wants to know about our plans for the wedding. And an explanation on why it was pushed back another six months.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

He sighed your name. “We have to-”

“I already agreed to the contract,” you reminded him. “You’re the one that’s holding out on hope of something that’s never going to come.”

The choked noise of hurt surprise that left him did not escape your notice, and yet you still refused to turn to look at him. “Y/n, please.”

“Just-” you had to smother the irritation bubbling in your chest, knowing it came from your emotional distress more than anything he’d done. “Natsuo, please,” you barely withheld the mimicry, “go away.”

The man was dejected, you could feel it without having to see him, and it rang through his voice when he finally relented, “I’ll see if he’ll meet with us tomorrow. Do you want me to bring you a blanket?”

A pulse of guilt pushed through your chest at his words, because of course, even when you were being belligerent and hurtful, Natsuo cared, he loved you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. “No. Thank you.” You needed the cold; it was a biting reminder of what you’d lost.

He sighed but pushed no further, and a moment later there were receding footsteps.

“He’s been doing that more lately,” you explained to the open air behind Touya’s headstone, the fatigue in your voice plain as day. “His expectations of me are growing, and he thinks I shouldn’t still be here, that I shouldn’t still be feeling this way. He doesn’t understand why I can’t-” you stopped, sentence unfinished at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Natsuo, please, just leave me alone.”

A voice you didn’t recognize responded, “Sorry to disappoint, but the guy that just walked out of here looking like a kicked fucking dog is long gone.” The man’s tone was low, dangerous, and his phrasing almost felt like a threat. You braced your hands on the ground beside you, slowly moving to stand until he spoke again from behind you. “No, no. Don’t get up. Don’t turn around.”

The command was clear, and your skin crawled at the sense of danger that was clawing its way up your spine. “What do you want?” you asked, eyes searching for something, anything, that might be able to help you right now.

“Now that we’re alone, you and I are going to have a little chat.” The rasp in his voice spoke to overuse and strain, and you couldn’t help but wince at the memory of the first time you’d done that to your own voice, just after a funeral when you were twelve. “Who was he?”

“My fiancé,” you answered, tone as cold as the air around you.

“Not him,” he clarified, “The headstone.”

A huff of a dark and humorless laugh escaped you. “Would you believe me if I said the answer was the same?”

He snorted. “Dates say he was a kid.”

You could hear the unspoken question of ‘how’ in his statement, so you answered it. “We were arranged.”

“And you’re grieving? What, seven years later?”

The question was almost mocking, and you knew it was stupid to be snarky right now. But knowing that didn’t stop you. “You never loved anybody like that?”

There was a pause, nothing audible in the near-freezing silence that covered the cemetery. Then, “Tell me about him.”

You actually laughed that time, gaze still downcast at Touya’s name. “Is that your thing? You corner people at their loved ones’ graves so you can watch them cry?”

He chuckled and for a moment you thought you recognized the sound, but the rasp took back over. “Just you. Tell me.”

Your fists clenched where they sat on your thighs, nails digging into your palms as you attempted to gather the words. “He was smart, and strong, and kind,” you decided was as good a place as any to start. You wanted this man out of your space as soon as possible, and maybe playing his game was the way to do that. “He was my best friend, and I loved him, at least as much as a child can understand what love is.” You could feel fresh tears in your eyes, still doing everything in your power not to let them fall.

“I thought you said it was arranged.”

“Yeah, we got lucky; got along like a house on fire.” You laughed barely audibly at your own joke, and heard him snort before immediately coughing and clearing his throat. Odd, you thought, given the lack of context for that comment, unless he’d seen the Todoroki name and assumed. “We spent every day together, went to all the same schools, did quirk training together, he was everything to me.” The sentimentality of your rant nearly had you forgetting the reason you were on it in the first place. A nostalgic, though slightly saddened smile crossed your features when you added. “We even called each other husband and wife.”

“And the new fiancé?”

Your expression soured, and you didn’t have the bandwidth to consider how messed up of you that was. “His younger brother. He offered to fulfill the marriage contract so that my family would still be taken care of.”

“Tch. Noble.”

Your irritation bubbled out of you before you could stop yourself from spilling your guts to the stranger that still stood behind you like a ghost. “Yeah, except he wants to get married because he’s in love with me and he refuses to accept that I won’t ever feel that way about him.”

“Why not?”

“Because Natsuo’s not him!” You almost shouted, gesturing toward the headstone. You felt a tear finally slide free, and you were quick to wipe it away, despite the fact you were sure the man hovering behind you could see it. Perhaps you could blame it on the phenomenon that it’s easier to open up to strangers than people you know that this was all suddenly ready to pour out of you for the first time in your life. “And maybe it was a long time ago, and children don’t know what love is, so how do you explain to someone that while all of that is true, you don’t think you could ever be in love with them. Because just being near him felt like waking up with the sunrise on your face, and losing him felt like loosing the sun, and you haven’t been able to find anything that feels like that since.” When your words ran out, the sobs finally ripped free of your throat, tears flowing uninterrupted. You did your best to catch your breath enough to speak again. “So, if you’re gonna steal my wallet or kill me, now would be a great time, cause even if I could so something about it, I might let you do it anyway.

“I am freezing and I am miserable and I wish To-” Another sob broke off the end of your sentence, the end of your wish that he was there to comfort you, to wrap you in a hug and lean down to burrow his head into yours and let his body heat and affection chase it all away just as he did when you were kids. You were so wrapped up in the idea that even as you heard the man behind you move closer, you made no attempt to protect yourself. You sat still, head bowed, and eyes closed, nails digging so hard into your palms so hard you were certain you’d bleed if not for your quirk.

The first thing you felt was heat. Rolling in waves like someone had opened a furnace door. His knees hit the ground, and you felt the man’s arms wrap around your waist. His chest pushed into your back, and his chin landed lightly on your shoulder, head knocking softly into the side of yours and pressing there.

Your eyes shot open as you froze, shock overtaking every other emotion in your body as you tried to reconcile the fact that this person somehow knew.

You heard him speak again, now so much softer in tone and volume, though the rasp was still present. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come for you sooner.”

You voice felt lost, and you barely managed a broken whisper of, “What?”

His arms tightened around you, grip almost crushing when he spoke again. His voice was choked and watery, and quiet enough that if you weren’t so close you were sure you wouldn’t have heard him. “I saw photos of the family a year ago, you were with Nats, I thought- fuck I should have known. I should have come to get you, I’m so sorry.”

He seemed to be spiraling, hold on you fluctuating as his arms tensed and relaxed and tensed again. Your own thoughts were running at light speed, and your eyes finally trailed down, filling with emotion when you saw the scarred and mutilated skin of his arms, the staples at his wrists. “Your arms…”

The muttering over your shoulder stopped, and for a moment you weren’t sure he was even breathing. When you moved, there was no resistance in his hold, so you turned to face the man. Your gaze trailed up the sleeves of his jacket, and you found more of the same purpled skin where the garment ended at his throat. More scars, more staples, and his eyes.

A watery gasp filled your chest. You’d had daydreamy conversations when you were children about one day matching an engagement stone to those eyes. “Touya?”

He nodded, the movement small, hope in his eyes and something almost a smile on his lips when he pressed his face into your hand where it cupped his cheek. A sigh relieved the tension in his chest, the worry that all the changes in him would make you see him as a monster.

“You’re here.” Your disbelief was evident in your tone and your eyes.

“I’m here, it’s me.”

“You’re alive.”

“I’m alive.” His volume remained quiet, withheld, like he was scared to shatter the bubble around the two of you.

You smiled through the tears now freely flowing down your cheeks, which despite there being no sign they’d slow down, the man in front of you seemed content to continually wipe away with his thumbs as his palms cradled your face. Warmth spread from his touch, hot, but not enough to burn, never enough to burn you, even if he could. He’d always touched you with that kind of careful awareness of his quirk. “How?” you questioned, hands latching onto his wrists as overwhelming confusion and concern took over almost everything else. “In the park- you- we didn’t-”

He flinched at your grip but made no attempt to remove it as he cut you off. “I promise, I can explain, but I don’t have a lot of time right now, I-”

His own sentence was cut off by an explosion close enough to rock the ground, followed immediately by a phone ringing in his pocket. “What-” you tried with wide eyes, but your own phone blared Natsuo’s ringtone from your bag.

“Shit! Y/n, I have to go.” He moved to stand up, his hands pulling away from you as he did, and you panicked.

“Wait!” You stared up at him with wide eyes as your heart and mind raced alike. Your breathing grew labored as you considered what you were about to ask, but what else could you do when your best friend, your purpose in life, your everything was back within reach, staring down at you, about to leave you behind again. “Take me with you.”

“It’s not safe, I can’t-”

“It doesn’t matter! I can’t lose you again,” you were begging; you didn’t care. “Don’t leave me.”

His jaw tightened for only a moment before, “Fuck! Come on,” he commanded, pulling you to your feet.

You made no attempt to grab your things as he stormed away with you in tow, and you couldn’t help but notice that even though he’d said he was leaving, he’d never dropped your hand.

“You have to stay close to me, you have to do everything I say, without question, and you have to call me Dabi. Good?” He threw the question into the air, knowing you’d be listening. He waited until he heard you respond with an ‘okay’ far too sure, before shaking his head, unable to determine whether he was happy or terrified for what he was about to do. “You’re not going to like where we’re going.”

And now, as his fingers intertwined with yours to pull you along as the pair of you broke into a run, you cleared the boundary of the cemetery, leaving your things, your grief, maybe your entire life, at the headstone of Touya Todoroki.

#dabi x reader #touya x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #bnha touya #mha touya #arranged marriage trope #look I'm a sucker for making tough guys squishy for their person #There is more to this #It's in progress #And there will be more angst about Natuo's one sided feelings #And also more info about the reader's quirk and how it works

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