#if only I could think about the show I might be able to scrape up a morsel of happiness

[good-night-space-kid]

My brain is too full of show. But alas, the homework :(

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

would love to request a "friends to lovers" story between Hiccup and the reader.

They could have been friends since childhood, but I’m not sure what you think about the idea where, as they grow up, it becomes completely normal for them to hold hands or even share more intimate moments, like a kiss. (Don’t let it show how much I love this dynamic).

I’d love to see how you would develop this story (only if you feel like it, of course). I seriously ADORE your writing! Blessings and kisses, MUAK! ❤💗

One of These Days

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,740

You didn’t know when it started; maybe it had been when he’d smiled at you for the first time, or he’d held your hand, or leaned his head over yours. 

Tags:  httyd 1, httyd 2, friends to lovers

It was growing darker outside. 

Frigid air licked at the frame of your back, slithering and scraping past cracks in the walls and shutters. It tasted just as cool as it smelt.

You didn’t know when it started, nor were you sure how to feel about it, what with that odd thing sitting between the two of you. You could tell he expected something, what with the way he often shuffled closer than was necessary and fumbled over his own words in an effort to impress.

“Pass me the hammer?” He asked you without looking, lanky shoulders square, hands pressed against parchment, fingers sliding absentmindedly over scrawled-out charcoal and past thick-handled tools.

You snuffled, blinking from where you sat just beside him.

It was just to the right of you on one slightly uneven workbench, closer to the forge’s main window than away. You grabbed at it with slightly wobbly fingers, grimacing as it nearly fell from your hands.

At twelve winters, you still had some time left before you’d really be expected to bloody your hands, and by bloody your hands, you meant to be able to take down a full-grown dragon on your own.’ Of course, most children by now had done their fair share of slaughtering, both animals and otherwise, but none had been able to make it during a raid without help. While you hadn’t done any of it, putting you sorely behind, you were still fine.

For Hiccup, son of Stoick the Vast, feared dragon-killer, the deadlines were a little bit tighter.

You placed the hammer firmly, determinedly into Hiccup’s open palm, the tips of your fingers dragging against slightly sweaty skin.

Gobber had been generous enough to let you in. He didn’t often or ever stop the two of you from doing things. Even still, this was the first time you’d been invited into the forge, and he hadn’t said anything.

Hiccup had also been generous enough to invite you in. You hadn’t quite recognized the invitation for what it was, nor did you think Hiccup did, either. Really, the experience was proving to be rather close. It was the first time you’d ever seen him so enraptured in his work, though, to be fair, you hadn’t known him for long. He’d hardly talked about it.

You doubted he’d told anyone else- it was going to be a larger machine. He definitely didn’t have everything he needed to make it. Not the wood, which would make up a frame large enough to swarf half your body, or all the metals and ores he’d need to make all the levers and rods.

He wasn’t wearing any fur coat, just an apron and his green tunic. He scribbled notes down like the world might be swallowed if he didn’t. You could tell he’d never done that before- made such detailed instructions, thought up such an elaborate contraction.

You liked him happy. You’d seen him frustrated and you thought that was alright too, puzzling over his own work, tongue peeking out slightly from between two teeth, not comically. It was more a subtle, awkward thing.

With his back to you, he worked with a dedicated, single-minded focus, almost tireless. He worked from the moment he sat down to the moment he finished his task with a passion usually only meant for the battlefield, spotted in the eyes of the hungry past floating ashes and spraying gore. It was a passion that said that nothing had ever come natural to him.

He taught himself how to try.

You thought that he must be daring, more than any Viking warrior.

Maybe he wasn’t yet a man, but you could see the shadow of the man he would be-mature, confident, skilled, focused. The way he worked in the forge- his need to shoot down a dragon paled in comparison.

You wondered if anyone else would ever get to see him the way you did, red-and-orange firelight warming his cheeks.

He caught you looking and he smiled, something almost half-toothless and completely crooked, revealing brown-auburn hair made to glow in the light of the fires, spotted gaps in rows of teeth, freckles dusting over a nose’s bridge like speckles on bird’s feathers.

He spoke almost hesitantly, confusedly, as if he’d just realized he’d forgotten to respond, and hadn’t realized it was that important, or that you would have been expecting it, though that didn’t matter to you, because he’d hardly needed to, “Thanks.”

Even unsure, he was much more at home here than out in the open world.

You felt your head perk, shoulders dropping as a soft, gawky thing curled and writhed bashfully in your stomach, not unlike the way a worm reveled in soft, blooming dirt.

Wow.

It hadn’t occurred to you that during all of a fortnight, you hadn’t seen him smile. Now that you’d seen it, you weren’t sure how you’d ever lived without it. 

You thought you could feel the heat radiating from his body as you shuffled closer to him, your fingers curling around his bicep, slightly damp through thick cloth. Your legs were nearly brushing then, leather smock teasing against cloth trouser as you pondered what it might feel like to be handed back soft, honeyed flowers by those very same sooted hands.

You shifted, the grass beneath you wet, dew clinging to the sides of your skirt like a few shiny glass beads. You felt the warm sun against your face, tickling against small hairs and soft skin. Your journal was to your front, scratched up leather cover pressed to your hands, a charcoal stick laying abandoned across empty parchment.

Nearby was a trickling stream, water weaving past water, spraying hollowly against rocks and moss- you could have likened it to yourself and the feeling in your soul, knotting up your chest and mixing up all kinds of squishy insides.

The last you’d seen, Hiccup had been walking. Now, he was nearly falling over himself, legs jerking as his saddle’s straps and reins restricted the movement of his ankles. His shouts echoed around the whole cove, sound bouncing off cold, stone-basin walls.

His dragon slunk off in the distance, still apprehensive and avoidant. It hadn’t quite gotten used to you yet, which was fine, because you were alright with keeping your distance.

Even after you’d had your hand on its slightly-sticky snout, whenever you saw it, you thought of wide, razor-sharp maws and torsos torn from small bodies. A dragon was always going to be a dragon and they were very much deadly creatures- his reassurances of the fact that the Night Fury was just as harmless as any man did you no favors. After all, the only creatures as deadly as a dragon were, in fact, bears… and men. It made you nervous.

It had large, slitted serpent’s eyes, though its scales were flatter and its skin more leathery than warted or slimy as you’d expected from such a fearsome beast. Its face was oddly symmetrical and squat in an abhorrently off-putting way, its horns or fins or whatever else that came sproutings from its skull sort of floppy and bashful and sort of too-big and not-grown-into-yet, just like it’s bulky, soft-looking paws, sort of like Hiccup.

“T-Toothless!” Hiccup practically yowled, distressed and scolding as he fell over, face-planting into dirt and short grass, half helped-along by the wet nose of his dragon. The difference- you felt almost enraptured by it.

He was awful and very often sort of standoffish and sarcastic though not often crude. He was picky and sort of insensitive and he often trampled over boundaries like he was dancing hand-in-hand with trouble, except he didn’t know how to dance, and the hall’s fires hadn’t been lit in a while- not for a celebration, at the very least. 

In that moment, though, you remembered the way it felt to have his folded knuckle digging slightly into your shoulders as he nudged against you distractedly,  just out of view behind the wooden barricade as he was scolded by Gobber. There was something about it that you thought might be either meaningful or accidental that turned over something in your stomach, most particularly because -and not in spite of- the fact that it had come from such a scrawny, lanky, often very, very clumsy-footed boy. 

The way he’d seemed, looking off reminded you of his father a little bit. You saw it, really- all the good and awful parts of the Chief that he’d most definitely inherited, even when most others couldn’t see it. You were scared of it somewhat; of how confident it made him, how distracted and sort of brave-like he could be, even if it only ever ended up making things work for the worst.

Past all your yearning, aching, wanting, and needing-to-have-ings, it scared you just as much as you thought you could watch forever. Did he ever feel the same way about you?

You hadn’t noticed as Hiccup had untangled himself from his trappings. He must have though, and quickly, as during the time you’d spent thinking, he’d walked up close enough to you to cast a long shadow over your face, pulling you out of your own reverie. 

You blinked aimlessly as he settled down next to you. You spoke hesitantly, “So, uhm, how did the saddle…?”

“He didn’t let me put it on.” Hiccup grumbled petulantly. While nothing more or less than sort of scrawny, with the way you were slumping and the way he was sitting with his back straight, he looked sort of tall. It did nothing to erase the pout from his face or the nasal from his voice.

You started, squeaking as his dragon -for the dragon was most definitely his, now- stepped out from the shadows, melded to its back like a fresh set of armor as it stalked its way around the clearing, eternally predatory. 

Hiccup seemed to relax some as you leaned against him, sort of using his shoulder as a shield, scooting behind it as the Night Fury grew closer. You felt particularly offended, even as he let you drape his arm over your middle, leaving his hand dangling awkwardly in the air. Protect me!

“Wow. What did I do?” Hiccup asked, half-smiling, shifting where he sat, unintentionally pressing your shoulder into slightly jagged rock as he got comfortable.

Sometimes you caught him looking, eyes agonizingly blank though the rest of his expression looked to be somewhat soft, the corners of his mouth pressing into a sweeter-looking half-smile. 

You grumbled incomprehensibly as you felt yourself once again eclipsed by shadow, much bigger this time. 

You leaned harder against his shoulder, one hand coming to tangle in his sleeve. You eyed it apprehensively, feeling thin twine catch against the place nail met skin. He didn’t get it.

“Don’t leave me behind.” You said suddenly, abruptly. “Ever.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, freckles and thin fingers easily losing themselves under the mop of your hair.

“I-ah, yeah, okay.” Hiccup said, brows crinkled, slight confusion evident in his voice, though it didn’t seem any less calm or comfortable for it. He especially didn’t seem to mind as you clung closer to him, something in his face glowing a blotchy, raw pink. “Alright.”

You were in danger. Really, if enjoyment was all he could bother to feel for your predicament, then you took back all of your praises.

You scoffed miffed-ly at a brown, quirked, knowing brow. The devil- He was such a boy. 

It didn’t matter what configuration of the face you had or your height or size of hair color. That wasn’t what he thought of when he thought of you, at least not at first. 

He looked back at you, sitting in the grass, leaning behind him and he couldn’t help but to think about how pretty your smile was, the way the sun lay over the side of your face and made you look as if you were glowing. Something in his neck twinged as he did, probably sprung or pulled earlier while he was trying to wrestle the saddle onto Toothless.

You were smart- a lot smarter than him on a lot of fronts, though he was pretty ingenious on his own, something anyone, even you, was hard-pressed to match.

Now, he realized, you were just as squirrely as you were cynical.

He’d never really thought of you as someone that needed shielding. You were just as capable and incapable as him in equal measure… mostly. But  in that moment, the realization came to him that maybe you… wanted to be?

He looked at you as you muttered something foul under your breath, feeling the same way he did trying to figure out a puzzle and the same way he felt piecing axles, barrels, ropes and wheels together to make up something interesting.

There really wasn’t much else to it, was there?

Really, if that was what you wanted, Hiccup was anyone but the right man for the job, but, well, if you wanted him… Hiccup winced as you dug your nails into his arm, leaving what was probably a deep set of crescent-shaped imprints in his arm, even through his tunic.

Yeah, he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“It’s cold,” You mumbled absentmindedly, eyes shutting some as a breeze brushed over your cheeks and past your ears. 

You were right. It was chilly, of course, so high up in the watchtower. It was only your second time up there.

“Yeah…” Hiccup said, leaning closer to the fire.

The two of you bumped shoulders, using a spare piece of kindling like a chair. Your ankles were hooked together, tied like a knot in a rope. The sides of your legs were so closely pressed together that they were nearly flush, despite the fact that no one else was there besides the two of you, everyone else having long since packed up their things and left. He wasn’t sure what they’d talked about. He couldn’t remember.

Hiccup kept his eyes exactly where he shouldn’t, watching you.

Your eyes were half-lidded. You leaned over your knees more than not as you turned over a small, split spit, a chunk of lamb speared over one end, his fur coat draped over your shoulders, one hand clutching at the opposite, empty sleeve. You looked very pretty like that, contented.

“They’ve got to add some walls up here, you know,” You said, your head tilting upwards as you examined a particularly soft bit of meat, thumb sliding up your skewer as you tilted it slightly downwards. 

Wow. Hiccup’s eyes were half-lidded, even as he poked at the fires with a stick, nudging the ends of charred logs closer to the fire half-heartedly.

He could hold you by the waist and sway with you and touch your foreheads together and you could play-wrestle and fight in the grass but he couldn’t kiss you and tug his hands through your hair unless he was braiding it and it was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to or have to but now that he knew he could, he thought about it pretty often. He was a teenage boy and you were a teenage girl and he’d always been curious, so of course he’d considered it.

He needed to. He had for years with all the force of a child who’d just learned how to dream. It was- It was… The feeling was surprisingly moral, but no less impassioned.

“One of these days…” HIccup mumbled distractedly. 

One of these days. He thought that every morning, now.

Hiccup blinked, the two of you standing in front of each other, curling your fingers around each other, with your fingers still relaxed. It was comfortable, warm… easy. He turned it over in his head, again and again. 

The cheering of the arena was nearly deafening to his back, the sound of metal weapons crashing against cage bars grating to his ears. They wanted him, blood, the Nightmare… Astrid was waiting behind you, eyes burning holes into him with all the conflicted feelings of a lost warrior. Even past all that, it wasn’t hard, he found, to focus on you; the lines of your face, the soft and hard curves, each and every blemish and soft patch of skin.

Huh. He thought.

He leaned forward and pressed his face against your bowed head, your forehead touching his shoulder dully past thick brown furs. He felt the split of your hairline against the tip of his nose. His eyes were closed tightly shut.

He reveled in the feeling for the moment, taking in the way your hair felt against his cheeks and the way the leftover grasses and burnt wood and juniper left a scent that laid thick over your scalp, both dusty and spiced, a lot like pine.

Ultimately, he was doing this for Toothless, but now, today, he thought that he might be doing it a little for you, too.

The whistling of Toothless' -no, the Fury’s- wings nearly stunned him, loud enough to make it more difficult to think.

Hiccup nearly choked on wind as he gripped onto the handles he’d built into Toothless’ saddle. For a moment, he thought they wouldn’t hold. After all, one small strap of leather was nearly nothing against the full force of the Gods’ cursed offspring.

They had never gone this fast before, his body felt hollow, both as if he was being nailed to the back of his dragon and as if he might just float off at any moment. The feeling It made him cautious just as much as he was focused.

Even past all of that, the space to his back felt abhorrently empty, and not just because of the way they pierced through the sky. Your tears staining the back of his shirt as he and Toothless dived and shot… He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you cry before. He still hadn’t- it was silent for the most part, and he’d just felt it, really. If he ever had, it hadn’t been like this.

He couldn’t bring you up with him. He couldn’t. Just as he’d almost died in the ring, you had too.

It wasn’t merely a roar, more of a phenomenon, something that shook even the air around him. It was all-consuming and nearly inescapable. The Queen had followed.

Hiccup furrowed his brows and kept urging his dragon upwards.

Rain beat heavily against the roof of the Chief’s hut, making the world around you feel even more cold, weak and hollow. Thunder roared violently outside as the storm raged on.

“Hiccup,” You choked on air and spit and half a sob as you stared down at a sickly, freckled face, sweat running down both too-pale and blotchy red cheeks, staining his shirt dark. Freshly-changed bandages bled a deep crimson, changing with the color of hot blood and foul puss as his knees, one foot-less and the other not, jerked reflexively against the sheets of his blanket.

He’d been consistently out between long bouts of delirium and fever, his eyes rolling beneath his lids, just barely visible under the flickering light of a single, dying candle, twitching viciously. You clutched at Hiccup’s slick palm with both hands as he fitfully fought his way past conscious dreams.

You’d stayed- you’d stayed all night and day.

If dedication had ever really meant anything, if worship and hope and work had ever really meant a damn, if the Gods had ever been real and if their decree had ever meant anything, you hoped your will reached the heavens.

“Lass,” The Chief rumbled deeply from behind you, his heavy weight causing old floorboards to creak deeply as he shifted. 

You didn’t even have the energy to shake off the nearly unbearable heat of his father’s palm on your shoulder as you cried yourself nearly sick with tears and snot and spit gathering at every orifice. It was an ugly cry, an undignified, ungainly one, followed with all your fears and hopes and despairs.

You had your own injuries to tend to, yet you felt as if you couldn’t, not in that moment, not even if it meant that you’d have to be fighting off your own pains and fevers later, if you hadn’t already fallen under their grasp. The only thing you could do was watch and feel a need for Hiccup to be okay so deep it rendered you helpless. Ultimately, though, you knew his recovery had nothing to do with you.  

Hiccup’s dragon had left to cauterwal outside, to wail and wreak havoc and feast on the latest fisherman’s catch. He seemed less worried than you and the Chief but more worried than everyone else, and rightly so.

Suddenly, you started.

With a voice both intensely raspy and wet, Hiccup mumbled your name. It hadn’t been anything special, more a simple expression of his recognition, yet you sniveled as Hiccup clutched back at your hand, his grip weak compared to yours, his eyes dull with the force of his fever. For a very long moment, he held it.

“Hiccup.” You tried again.

The Chief’s hand tightened over your shoulder, squeezing already stiff and sore muscles.

The last time you’d seen his eyes, he’d been staring you in the face, mouth opening and closing pointedly and yet no words had come out. He’d dropped you then, right before rushing up into the sky on Toothless’ back.

Parts of you had been pinned by the rubble after and you had nearly been left behind. You could barely think past the pain, yet you still remembered how it felt to be left on the ground, hands clutched to your chest, mind completely fogged with pain and fear, hoping and hoping and hoping, cringing and in pain as the sky flashed. The terrifying outline of the dragon queen in the sky, smoke and fog larger than life, everyone certain Hiccup was going to die, himself most certainly… It seared a painful picture into your mind.

Part of you had been in danger, then. You weren’t anymore. Now, you really loved Hiccup Haddock, and you needed him to be okay.

He hoped you were safe. He didn’t know what he would do otherwise.

He couldn’t ever let you go. Never. Not until- Not unless he died, even if it hurt and his forehead felt weighted with the pressure of all the world’s fires.

[actuallysaiyan]

for the love of god can the people please get a cockwarming small might req, possibly where it started as just a way to recover if his injury flared during ur usual sex but now hes just into it on its own? i will bow and scrape until my goddam back breaks🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 just started an unbelievably boring job and thinking abt your all might posts are giving me life thru these 8 hour shifts like truly thank you from the shareholders at yagi thirst incorporated

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, Small Might form, slight nipple play word count: 0.7k pairings: Toshinori Yagi/Small Might x Fem!Reader summary: Toshinori takes a long time to be comfortable to make love to you, and yet you drive him crazy. one night he gets a cramp and he can't quite perform, but he finds himself so excited and happy to be so close to you. a/n: Thank you soooo much for this one! I really hope you enjoy and thank you for enjoying my thirst for All Might!

He knew he’d never be the same man as before, but you were falling in love with him despite his differences. Even if he was thinking that he wasn’t worthy of love, you were right there to show him that he was wrong. Slowly, you began to make him feel alive again. Toshinori Yagi could proudly say that he wanted to live.

Sex was a whole other thing. It was slow. He would always pull away whenever your make out sessions got a little too heavy. He was always willing to bring you pleasure, but never would he allow you to do it to him. Not only did the thought of you seeing his scar terrify him, but also you knowing he didn’t have the same stamina as before just made him feel even more insecure.

It all started one night when he finally decided to make love to you. He spends a long time focused on you and your pleasure, but he makes it known that he’s going to make love to you. And the first time you make love, it’s romantic and loving and it hits all the right spots. You find yourself dreaming about it for days to come.

Eventually, Toshinori also grows very addicted to the feeling. He loves being able to fuck you in the morning before he has to leave for work. At night whenever he’s feeling very needy and clingy, he fucks you really hard and deep. The man finds himself even more insatiable than he was when he was a young teenager. It’s like something snapped in his brain and you were stirring up his hormones quite a bit.

One night, he has you beneath him, pumping into you deeply. You two share such sweet kisses as he fucks you with precision. All of a sudden, he coughs up blood and he slows himself down. He feels like something is wrong. He looks down at you and you can see the hatred for himself in his eyes. He wants to just disappear and be swallowed up by the ground.

Then you reach up and gently wipe the blood away from his mouth with your fingers. “Toshi, are you okay?”

Just the gentleness of your motions and actions has him shuddering. He’s still inside of you, and still very hard. But his side hurts and the scar is throbbing for the first time in a long time. When you look up at him again, you see the worry on his face.

“Just…I’m sore, honey.”

You pull him in for a very tender kiss, not caring that there’s still blood on his lips. You hold onto him, allowing him to stay so deep inside of you as you rub his back and gently soothe him. Toshinori lays his head on your breasts, sighing happily. Just being connected to you like this makes him feel so safe, so loved and so happy.

The next time that you two make love, he offers to take you in the spooning position. He spreads your thighs, slipping into you from behind. Both of you moan as he bottoms out, and instead of him continuing a pace, he just settles behind you and wraps his arm around you.

“Just let me enjoy the feeling of you, honey.”

Your fingers intertwine as he presses kisses to your neck and your shoulder. Your walls flutter around his girth, causing him to grunt. The feeling of just resting while being deep inside of you makes him feel dizzy. It’s the greatest feeling to just be so connected to you like this. He can easily grab onto your hips and push deeper into you.

Then his hand slowly moves up to your sides, the fingertips are calloused and rough but feel so heavenly on your soft skin. You shudder and look at him over your shoulder. Toshinori has this beautiful look of love on his face as your gaze locks, despite the awkward position to look at him.

“My angel,” he murmurs softly as he leans in to press even more kisses to your neck. “I could never get tired of holding you so close like this.”

His fingers graze over your skin, making the hair on your body stand on end. Then he gently cups your breast, slowly rocking his hips. He tweaks your nipple, making you moan just for him. He can take it so slow for the both of you, and if things get a little too out of hand, he can easily just settle down, stop and stay buried deep inside of you.

You two have all night…and every night to be close to one another.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

[quintessenceofdust88]

Nonna Rosa fixes it

[Now on AO3!] Okayyy, it's officially not the weekend anymore, but only for like five minutes, so technically I'm on time! This got totally away from me, and I had to actually force myself to end it where I did. Nonna Rosa took the narrative from my hands and said 'I'll take it from here', and good for her. Not to be dramatic but I love her. Anyway, if any Italian-speaking people read this: I AM SO SORRY. This is all Collins dictionary or Google Translate, I don't speak a word of Italian and I'll be very glad to correct any mistakes you might notice ♥ I hope you guys enjoy it! if you want to know more about Nonna Rosa, send me an ask, I have looots of headcanons for her (and Tommy's childhood). Here you go:

A week after breaking up with Evan, Tommy is still feeling like shit. He can barely sleep, anything he tries to eat tastes like sawdust, and he feels like he’s living on autopilot. He goes to work, he comes back home, he tries to eat, he tries to sleep, rinse and repeat. Nothing else matters, there’s nothing else he feels like doing. He doesn’t answer Howie’s texts asking how he’s doing (he answered the first one, telling Howie not to worry about him, but can’t do more than that); he completely ignores Eddie’s invitation for Muay Thai and basketball, and he comes up with an excuse as to why he can’t make karaoke bar that Thursday. And yet, there’s one thing he can’t put off, as much as he wishes to: talking to his Nonna. 

Tommy calls his grandmother at least once a week; she still lives in Indiana, in the same house he spent most of his childhood in, and he knows his uncle Bart visits often. But he likes to hear from her himself. Visiting her was a rare occasion, and the last time he was able to was about four months ago. The minute he had stepped in, Nonna had asked him if he was ‘innamorato’, because he was looking so much happier than usual.

And he knows she’ll perceive his sadness just as quick, if not quicker. The woman has always been able to read him like an open book. She’s probably the only person alive who can; he’s always made sure to keep his layers hidden from everyone else, even from… 

Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? 

Fact is, that if he misses his call with Nonna, it’ll be even worse. She’ll know something’s up, and he doesn’t put past her to fly across the country to check on him (he’s always been the favorite grandson and everyone knows it). So it’s best to get it over with. With a heavy sigh, he sits down on his couch (and tries not to think about how empty it feels when it’s just him in there) and rings her up, bracing himself.

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words. 

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs. 

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old, before leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy, and that she would always love him. 

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern. 

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault” He blurts out before he can stop himself, and the look on his grandmother’s face tells Tommy she’d be placing a sizable plate of cake and a cup of strong coffee in front of him if she could.

“You have a habit of saying things are your fault even when they aren't, so I'm afraid I'll need the entire story, my boy” She says gently, and Tommy watches as she sits down by her kitchen table (the same kitchen table where he did most of his school homework, the same kitchen table from where he always used to steal a biscotti while they were still warm), supporting her face in her hand and turning those sharp blue eyes at the phone screen. Tommy swears he can feel them pierce through his very soul. “What happened? Is it your Evanino?”

The question sends a knife right through Tommy's chest as he imagines what could have been. Gosh, Nonna would have loved Evan (who doesn't love Evan, you idiot?, he tells himself), and he knows deep in his heart Evan would have loved her as well. Every time Tommy would talk about her (which he did fairly often; he was a grandma's boy and had no shame about it), Evan would get a wistful expression on his face and tell Tommy that she sounded awesome.

He had been planning on taking Evan with him next time he managed to visit her, not wanting to introduce them through the phone. Now it's for the best he didn't; at least Nonna won't have to miss him like Tommy does.

“He… he's not mine anymore, Nonna,” He admits, his voice thick with emotion. “We broke up”

“What?! Ma comme?! You were so happy last time we talked!” She asked, and of course Tommy was happy; it was the day before their six month anniversary, and he had been so full of excitement. “Was he not happy? Is that why you're blaming yourself, Tomasino?”

A smile as bright as sunshine crosses Tommy's mind. A smile that only started to fade once Tommy told him he knew how it ended. A smile that had become his personal beacon of light in the past six months. A smile he misses like a lost limb.

“He… he was happy” He says, because that much he knows to be true; Evan was happy with him, Tommy made sure of that. His grandmother frowns at that, and Tommy doesn't blame her; the story seems convoluted, feels convoluted, even to himself, and he lived it.

“Thomas, you have to help your old grandmother, because I cannot understand what is the problem. If you were happy and he was happy, then why are you not together anymore?”

“Because he asked me to move in with him” Tommy says, and that doesn't seem to clear the situation for her. If anything, her frown deepens, and she reaches for a piece of bread, fiddling with it; Nonna could never keep her hands still, especially when she was nervous, and Tommy had inherited that from her. 

“Does that mean something different when it’s two men?” She asks, completely genuine, and that earns a surprised chuckle from Tommy. 

“No, Nonna” Tommy says, and all of a sudden the urge to laugh is gone again; it never lasts long, not after Evan. “It… It means the same”

“Very well, and you said no? That’s why he ended things?” She asks, and Tommy sighs brokenly, the memories of the night no less painful than when it happened.

“No. I… I broke up with him, Nonna. He asked me to move in with him, and I didn’t just say no. I… I broke up with him," Tommy admits with a heavy heart. 

“Tesoro, you do realize you are not making any sense? You and your boy were happy; he asked you to move in with him, and instead you broke up with him. Then you show up looking like your heart was broken and tell me it is your fault. What am I missing, bambino?”

“I have a house, Nonna!” He snaps, finally being able to voice the things that have been stewing in his heart and mind since that night. “I have a house, and he lives in a rented loft, and it makes no sense for me to move in with him!”

Nonna doesn’t answer right away. She chews thoughtfully on her bread, letting a small silence fall between the pair of them before she eventually sighs and answers him.

“Benne, you have a point, it wouldn’t make sense. But that isn’t the whole problem, is it, Tommasino?” Nonna adds shrewdly. “You could have talked it out, explained that to him. So what made you walk out of the best thing that happened to you in years?”

Tommy can always trust Nonna to lay things down exactly as they are, no matter how painful it sounds. She’s right, he did walk out of the best thing that happened to him in years, maybe ever, and it’s getting harder and harder to justify that decision to himself. 

“N-Nonna, I was… I was falling so in love with him” He tells her, and feels tears starting to prickle the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve known that since last time you were here” Nonna says impatiently. “That’s not a reason to leave, Thomas; that’s a reason to stay”

“Only if he loved me back” He says automatically, and Nonna crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

“And who says he doesn’t? Did you ask him?” She asks sharply, and Tommy sighs. This conversation is taking a completely different route than what he expected. 

“I didn’t have to, Nonna. I… I just know it, okay? I was his first relationship with a man. I cannot be the last, that’s not how it works. And I… I thought I was okay with it, that I could enjoy it while it lasted, but… But I didn’t expect to love him this much” He admits, as much to himself as to her. It’s all his fault, really, for falling so deeply, flying too close to the Sun. “I-it’s safer to break my own heart now than to let him do it when I’m way too deep to recover. N-not that I’m recovering all too well, but… could be worse” He finishes, already wiping the few tears that inconveniently decided to rush down his cheeks. 

If Tommy expects his grandmother to nod sympathetically at that and coo at him (he kinda does; she has a habit of doing that when he cries), he has another thing coming. Nonna scoffs loudly, hitting the table with her hand, strong from decades of kneading bread. The noise is enough to startle Tommy out of tears.

“Thomas Domenico Kinard, I didn’t know me and your dear Mamma, may God have her soul, had raised an estupido vigliacco!” She exclaims, her hand flailing loudly to emphasize her words. 

Tommy will be the first to admit his Italian is rusty, but he’s pretty sure she just called him a stupid coward. And. Ouch.

“Nonna!” He exclaims back, but she isn’t dissuaded. She tuts him with a sharp ‘Silenzio!’ and a raised finger, and Tommy shuts up right away. He knows that when Nonna starts, the best he can do is take the scolding, so he leans back on his couch, trying his best not to look like a chided boy who got caught stealing fruit from the neighbor’s orchard.

“You are my grandson, and I love you more than anything in this world. You are a good man with a wonderful heart, but you have one big problem, Tommaso. You always assume you know people’s feelings better than they do, and then you make your own decisions based on that without actually asking anyone. Remember when you decided I should move to California because you thought I was lonely here?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, and Tommy nods sheepishly. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“That if and when you wanted to move to California, you would let me know, but you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions” He mumbles back, the epic scolding from five years ago still fresh on his mind. 

“Esattamente. Now, I think your Evanino deserves the same courtesy. He is not a silly child, Thomas. If he wants you to be his last, if he loves you, who do you think you are to decide that he doesn’t?”

“But he never said he did,” Tommy replies stubbornly. “He… He never even told me he loved me, he just asked me to move in with him. It’s like… It’s like he wanted to prove a point, Nonna. That he could be… committed, or queer, or whatever, I don’t know. But he never said he loved me”

“Did you say it to him?” Nonna asks, and Tommy stares at her with his mouth agape. Damn this woman and her ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions. 

“N-no” He admits. “I… I was too afraid of him not saying it back”

“Hmmm” Nonna hums thoughtfully. “That’s your other problem, bambino mio. You think you don’t deserve to be loved. I blame that man for that” Nonna says with a scoff, and they both know exactly who she’s talking about; there’s no lost love between Rosa Lucciola and her ex-son-in-law, Brian Kinard, and the way he treated Tommy and his mother before she passed is the sole reason for it. 

“Well, that’s neither here nor there, Nonna” He says with a shrug, always uncomfortable when his father becomes even a small topic of conversation, but she tuts disapprovingly.

“Ah, isn’t it? Has it never occurred to you that maybe your Evanino could have the same problem? That he was as afraid as you to show his heart and have it broken?”

Tommy desperately wants to say that he thought about it, that it occurred to him; but it hasn’t. Evan is such a sunshine of a man, always so prone to smiles and loving gestures towards anyone he cares about, that Tommy never thought there could be insecurities there. Now it makes him feel selfish and stupid (or estupido as Nonna had so accurately called him). 

“Nonna…” Tommy says, his mind catching up to everything she said and a horrifying realization dawns on him. “What if he did love me back? Oh my God, did I fuck this up?!” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“Language! Do not take the Signore’s name and swear in the same sentence!” She chides him, and Tommy mutters ‘sorry’, but her look is impossibly fond. “But, well. Maybe you did; maybe you didn’t. Are you going to sit around and mope or try to find out?” Nonna challenges him. 

“W-what if he never loved me, Nonna? Or what if he did, but me walking out made him stop?” Tommy asks, not knowing which possibility scares him the most.

“What if he still does, Thomas?” Nonna counteracts. “What if he loves you and is too afraid to reach out because you already rejected him once, hm? Someone has to be brave, and he already was when he asked you to move in, bambino. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but his heart was in the right place; it was in your future together”

Tommy realizes Nonna is right. He can’t expect Evan to reach out (he realizes he was at some level, and he would have rushed to it; one call from Evan and Tommy would be right back to his life, ready to reheal his own heart when things inevitably went wrong, just for another glimpse of Evan Buckley’s personal sunshine); it’s his turn to fight for them. It’s his turn to be brave. 

“Ah, you finally realized it, hm?” Nonna says; something must be showing on his face, because there’s a satisfied smile on her face. “Fight for that boy, Thomas. Fight for your happiness, tesoro. Prove to your Nonna you are not estupido”

“Nonna, you are most definitely the best person on the planet, and I promise you didn’t raise a estupido. I’ll do right by Evan. By… By me. By both of us” Tommy promises to her, promises to himself. He blows a kiss to the screen of his cellphone, desperately wishing he could kiss her cheek in person. “Ti amo, Nonnina” (I love you, granny) 

“Ti amo, nipotini del mio cuore” (I love you, grandson of my heart) She tells him back, and a mischievous smirk appears on her face. “You better bring that boy here to try my rondelli before the year is over, you hear?”

“Dio, I hope so, Nonna” He tells her, and they say their goodbyes before hanging up. Tommy already misses her.

He holds his cellphone close to his heart, wondering if he should text Evan, but decides against it. This is too big for a text, too big for a call. He’ll go over in the morning, probably with a bouquet of flowers or whatever other extravagant gift he can come up with, ready to grovel and explain himself and beg for a second chance, even if it’s only to hear a ‘no’. Even if it’s only to let Evan yell at him and get the closure he deserves. Even if it’s only to get his already shattered heart broken into even more pieces. Tommy has to be brave.

After all, nonna and mamma didn’t raise a coward. 

(Evan doesn’t say no. And when Tommy explains, after several rounds of make-up sex, what made him change his mind, he promises to send Nonna a present. The present ends up being him and Tommy, because they go to Indiana for Christmas, and Evan falls in love with Nonna and her rondelli. Just like Tommy knew he would)

--

Tag list (let me know if I missed anyone! also if you want to be removed or only tagged in Little Blobs' Verse):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie

(Although here's a lil spoiler - Nonna Rosa will probably show up in Little Blobs' verse cause I'm not ready to let go of her and she'd whack me in the head with a spoon if I didn't let her meet her great-grandchildren)

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?

My fault.

Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️

(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)

with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏

anyways, enjoy!

(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.

"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.

"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"

Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."

Y/n nodded absently.

They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.

It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.

Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.

When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"

"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."

Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.

"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"

Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"

"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"

Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."

It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-

That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.

Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.

She hated herself for it.

Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.

"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."

Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.

Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.

Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.

"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.

"Take care, Y/n."

Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."

•○🌑○•

Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.

Y/n came up lacking.

Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.

That he loved her.

She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.

She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.

The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.

That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.

"When will you stop being clumsy?"

He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.

"What?"

He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"

His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.

"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.

"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.

Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.

She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.

And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.

Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.

She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.

She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.

She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.

Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.

Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.

Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.

The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.

"Yes? How can I help you?"

Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.

"I- is Cassian here?"

The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"

Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."

Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"

"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.

A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."

Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.

"Can I have a word? In private?"

The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."

Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.

She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.

When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.

The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.

Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."

His brows furrowed. "Hi..."

She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"

He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."

His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."

She nodded. "I can tell."

Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.

"I- I can explain-"

Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."

He blinked again. "What? You... what?"

She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.

"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."

Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"

His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.

"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"

Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

"Y/n-"

But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.

But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.

And he had tears in his eyes.

"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"

Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.

"Mates?" She whispered.

Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."

Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.

She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.

"Good night."

She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

[chiefdirector]

Survival | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim watched, helplessly, as the door closed behind (Y/N). He wanted to follow her, but he knew that any imput form him would be useless at best and detrimental at worse.

It was meant to have been an easy day, he could laugh at that thought now. He had grown comfortable, to comfortable. But he had planned for him and (Y/N) take a long weekend off. He had it all planned out, movies rented and cupboards stocked with more food they they could bost possibly eat.

It had been a long couple of months, both he and (Y/N) swamped with case after case at work. So when the last day came before their time off, Tim's head wasn't in the game. He should have been more focussed, if he had, then he wouldn't be here, sitting in a hospital waiting room, drecnhed in his finacee's blood.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault, he would never forgive himself.

It was nearing end of shift when it happened, he took what sounded like an easy call. If he had paid better attention, he would have known how much of a shit-show he was driving into.

(Y/N) had shot him an odd look when he said that they were responding alone. He had said that they didn't need back-up, it was a simple domestic call.

That's another thing he felt like laughing at. He though it was simple. Simple! If the guilt wasn't sitting so heavily in his chest, he might have actually been able to must some sort of reaction to the thought.

But he felt numb. He knew that he had to trust the doctor's to save her. They had brought him back from the brink of death numerous amounts of times, but it wasn't his life at stake here, it was hers. And if she didn't make it, Tim didn't know how he could forgive himself.

The bullet had scraped her neck, breaking the vein. The couple they had been sent to wasn't just having an arguement. The wife had her partner at gunpoint.

Thankfully, the husband wasn't harmed, (Y/N) had made sure of that. She took the bullet meant for him. She had made a split second descision to put her life in front of his. It was her job to do that, Tim knew all too well. But he knew that it was his job as her fiance to put her above all else and he had failed; he failed her.

The rest of it was a blur to him. He knew from the blood on his hands that he had to have tried to stop her bleeding. He could vaguley picture the ambulance that had come to get her and (Y/N)'s attacker running away before she could be arrested.

Everything else was a mystery. All he knew now was that he was in front of doors forbidding the general public to enter.

"Officer," A voice said from behind him. Quickly, he broke from his thoughts. He turned, looking at the nurse before him, nodding to prompt her to continue. "I don't think she will be out for a while, do you know her next of kin?"

"It's me." His voice was shaky and quiet as his spoke. He just about clocked on that the nurse didn't hear him. He cleared his throat, speaking clearly this time. "It's me, I'm her next of kin."

As he spoke, he felt his thoughts clarify for the first time since he saw (Y/N)'s body crumple to the ground. He was useless here but he knew what he had to do.

Ignoring the nurse as she began to speak again, Tim turn on his heels and left the hospital. (Y/N)'s survival was no longer something he could control, the only thing he could do was to catch the bitch who shot her.

That and pray that she would come back to him.

Masterlist

@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne

(i tagged people i thought may like, let me know if you wasnt to be added and/or removed)

[wandanatsthings]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Hey guys so this post might contradict my last but this is something I struggled with and thought others might be able to relate So I thought i'd share. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is always welcomed. New writer. 

(P.s Im dyslexic i'm trying my best) 

Word count: 2.7k 

Warnings: Mentions of body type/weight (not specific #), not eating, speaks of being ambushed but does not go into detail. Working out, angst and fluff. Missing S/O. Cursing.  Panic attack maybe?/ breaking down sobbing. Stress. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I  miss anything :) 

Summary: Reader stressed out and doesn’t have an appetite while Wanda and Natasha are away on a mission. 

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

Y/n Pov

You had just gotten home from a long day at work where nothing had gone your way. It started with the mission reports that you swore you had completed going missing. You had torn almost your whole office apart looking for them. You just could not find them. You had finally accepted the fact that your work day would be spent redoing mission reports. When you got word that you would be sent on a mission to receive some data from Hydra that SHIELD needed. You usually didn’t complain about going on missions but with the mission reports that needed to be redone on top of the report you were going to have to write for this mission to say you were dreading it would be the least, but you packed up, got on your suit and went outside to the landing pad where the quin-jet was right there waiting for you.

When you got there you were able to get the files you needed. The problem only came when you were trying to leave. The heater sensor on your suit detected hydra agents right where you needed to go to get to the jet and by your heat sensor flashing red like crazy you could tell that there were a lot of them. You took a deep breath and started to walk towards them. The closer you got you could count that it was a total of 10 of them. “I can do this,” you said to yourself. The agent closest to you was to the right with his back turned so he couldn’t see you. You decided that now would be a good time to try out your girlfriend's widow bites that she had given you weeks prior. You threw one out towards him and watched it take effect.

That went well you thought but as you went to do the same to the other agents that had their backs to you, You had been spotted. They all came running towards you, some with their weapons drawn, others ready to avenge you with their fist. Luckily after a long gruesome fight, you were able to get back to the jet with all the information Furry needed. You had some scrapes and bruises but honestly, you didn't care. All you wanted to do was get back to Nat and Wanda. After the long shitty day you had, you decided that the mission reports could wait until a later date. When you got back to the Avengers compound furry was already waiting for you at the landing pad with his hand out for the flash drive that contains all the information SHIELD required.

“Do you have the file and what the hell happened to you?” furry said with a curious look on his face. “Yes I have the files and to answer your question I was ambushed.” You said anxiously to get back to your living corridors to shower and finally be with your girlfriends. “Well are you okay?” he asked. Now furry wasn't the type to show his emotions but you had become his daughter much like Natasha so it didn’t surprise you when he voiced his concerns. “Yes I'm fine, just a couple of scrapes and bruises, nothing I can’t handle.” you reassured him. “Okay well, if it becomes anything more go see Dr. Banner and thank you.” With that, he walked away to go wherever furry goes and you headed to your floor where you hoped your lovers would be waiting for you.

When you got there though you were surprised to hear that the house was fully quiet. Are they home? You wondered. To answer your question, you walked farther into the kitchen and you saw a note on the counter. You grab the note, open it and what you read makes your heart sink. “Hi Detka, we're sorry we are not there to welcome you home. We got called on a short mission and should be back by the end of tonight to have dinner with you. Also, I (Wanda) made your favorite for lunch. It's in the fridge, heat it when you're ready. Xoxo Wands & Natty.” You put the note back down on the counter with a sigh. You understood how random missions could be. I mean you just went on an unexpected one yourself but you really wanted your girlfriends to hold you after the crappy day you had and they weren't here. Now you know that's not their fault but you couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. You walked to the fridge to get the lunch your sweet witch had made for you and when you pulled it out you saw yet another note sitting on top of the cling wrap plate. You took the note off the plate and put it into the microwave so it could heat while you read the note. “Hi Detka, I hope you got our first note again we're sorry but I made your favorite. We love you!” You smiled at that. You love that they took the time to leave you notes. To you, it showed how much of a priority they thought you were.

By the time you finished reading the love-filled note, you heard the microwave beep. You got the food out, stopped by the drawer by the sink to grab yourself a spoon, and made your way to the dining room table to enjoy a meal that your wonderful girlfriend made. It made you chuckle when you thought back to how Wanda specified that it was her who made it. Both of you know that Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. When You take the cling wrap off of the plate. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t the food. No, the food looked amazing. It was you. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it. Now this wasn’t new to you. Anytime you had a bad day or things felt out of your control you just wouldn’t have an appetite. It had gotten better when you met your girlfriends. They would always listen to your venting and be there when you needed them. You hadn’t had this problem in a while when they were around. But you were a 24 y/o woman. You were sure you could handle a little stress without your girlfriends coming to your rescue. So you put up the food to come back to it later. While you were waiting for your appetite to come back around you decided to go take a shower and start on all the mission reports you had to get done.

A few hours had passed and it was almost dinner time. You had gotten so caught up in doing your mission reports that you hadn’t even realized that your loves were not back yet. With that, you got up to go ask Tony where they were to see if he had any updates. On your way to Tony’s lab, you stopped at the kitchen to get a water bottle, When you opened the fridge you saw your lunch still sitting there untouched “I'm gonna eat it later.” You said to yourself. When you got to Tony's lab you saw him hunched over looking at what looked like to be floor plans, for what you had no idea but you learned early on in your time here to never ask.

“Hey Tony,” you said approaching him. He looks up from what he’s doing and acknowledges you. “Hey kid, whatcha up too?” “Nothing much, um I was wondering if you had any update on Nat and Wanda? They were supposed to be back by now.” You replied. “No, why do you guys have a hot date planned or something?” He said winking at you. “No, Tony was just wondering where they were.” You say annoyed. He laughs and says “Okay okay um maybe ask Steve? He should know.” “Okay, thank you asshole.” You say with a slight smile on your face as you walk away. “Your welcome ass-hat.” You hear him yell. Although he was a pain in your ass 90% of the time you love the red tin man. You got on the elevator to go find Steve only to realize you had no idea where he was so you asked Friday. “Hey Friday, where’s Steve?” “Steve Rogers is in the gym agent y/l/n.” they reply. “Thanks, Friday.” You say back as you push the gym floor button on the elevator. When you arrive you walk in to see him punching a punching bag. He immediately notices you. “Hey, y/l/n what can I do for you?” He says “Hey cap I was wondering if you had any update on Wanda and Natasha. They said they were going to be back by dinner time. Any idea on where they are?” He looks at you with a sad look on his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry y/n their mission turned out to be not as easy as we thought and they're gonna have to go undercover for a week. Maybe more.” When you hear this your heart drops for a second time this day. “Okay, thanks, Steve.” You say sadly. “You welcome y/n.” He says with a frown on his face knowing how hard it is for you when the 2 red heads are away. When you get back to your floor you decide to call it a night exhausted from the day you've had. As soon as your head hits the pillow you're asleep dreaming that your girlfriends are in the bed with you. While the meal in the fridge sat there waiting to be eaten.

2 weeks. 2 weeks had passed since you saw your girlfriends and since you had a full proper meal. With the stress of work and missing your lovers, you had barely eaten anything more than an apple here and there with some water. Along with that, you had been working out to try and keep your mind off of the fact you hadn’t even talked to them in 2 weeks since it was an undercover no-contact mission. So it was no surprise that that's where you were when they came home.

Wanda’s Pov

When we finally got home after 2 weeks of being undercover all we both wanted was you, food, and a shower. You being the main goal though but when we came into the house it was quiet. We called out to you but no one answered. It was rare that when we returned from the mission you didn’t come running into our arms so excited that we were home so we then decided to ask Friday where you were. “Hey Friday, where's y/n?” “Welcome home Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanov. Agent y/l/n is in the gym currently.” They said, “Okay thanks Friday.” I said looking towards Natasha “Let's shower and stuff and then we can go get her and have dinner together.” I say. She nods towards me and says. “Sounds like a plan.” We then make our way to our bathroom to shower.

Nats Pov

After Wands and I shower I headed into the kitchen to get some water while she put on lotion. When I went into the fridge I was surprised to see that the meal Wanda made you still sat in the fridge untouched beside the note being gone. I then looked around more in the fridge to find that nothing else had been touched either. Everything was in the same place as how we left it 2 weeks ago. I then looked around the entire kitchen to come up with the same results. So I called Wanda out here to tell her what I had found and with one look we both raced to the gym to find you. When we got there we could see you through glass, running on the treadmill but when we walked fully inside the sight we saw broke our hearts. You were thin. Like unhealthily thin. Now you weren't even overweight to begin with so with all the working out and barely eating it was enough that within 2 weeks you looked sickly. At the sound of Wanda's gasp when she saw you. You finally noticed them standing there.

Y/n Pov

I was running on the treadmill with my headphones on when I looked up and saw the women I had been longing for for the past 2 weeks. I quickly shut off the treadmill and ran towards them. When I finally reached them I just hugged them, they immediately both hugged me back but something felt off. When I looked up at their faces both of them had tears in their eyes. I let go a little and asked them “What's wrong, Is everything okay? Are you guys hurt?” I say checking over them frantically. When I'm satisfied with my check I look up to them and what comes out of Wanda’s mouth makes my stomach turn."Have you been eating?” she says shakily “What do you mean? Of course, I've been eating.” I say getting a little defensive. “No you haven't’ the meal Wanda left for you before we left is still there and nothing has been moved in the kitchen or the refrigerator. Is everything okay? Are you sick?” Natasha asks. As soon as she asks that You break down in tears. All of the stress of the weeks prior catching up with you all at once. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” You say sobbing and falling to the floor. Wanda and Nat both catch you before you can reach the floor and bring you into their laps just holding you and whispering sweet nothings. When you've finally calmed down Natasha is the first one to speak. “Do you wanna tell us what's going on or would you like to talk about it later?” “No, we can talk about it now,” You say, your scratchy voice from crying.

While you're preparing yourself to tell them everything from the past weeks you feel both of them kiss your forehead and that's what gives you the strength to start talking. “Um before you guys left I had been having a rough day. My mission reports had gone missing and they were due soon and I had got sent on a mission that was supposed to be easy but then I got ambushed.” As you say that Wanda interrupts you and asks “Are you okay, did you need to go to medical?” while checking over you just like you had done minutes ago to the both of them.“I'm fine don’t worry,” You say kissing her hands you then continue. “As I was saying I was ambushed and all I wanted was you guys when I got home and you weren’t there. And don't apologize I can feel you both getting ready too. I understand unexpected missions happen and that is not your fault. When I realized you were not there I saw your first note on the counter which I love. When you leave me notes by the way but then I made my way to the fridge to get lunch. I had all intentions of eating it but when I sat down to eat it I just couldn’t.” You then go on to explain to them that when you're stressed out and when things get out of your control you lose your appetite.

After you're finished talking, Wanda begins to speak. “We are so sorry you had to go through that alone, but as long as we're your girlfriends you won’t ever again have to. Maybe we can talk to Bruce and find you some new coping skills to cope with the stress.” She says “Yeah, what do you think about that sweet girl?” Natasha asks you. You look up at them with so much love in your eyes. “I think that’s a great idea, thank you guys,” You said, giving each of them a kiss. “No problem zolotse,” Natasha says with a smile on her face. “How about we get some lunch?” says Wanda. You look up at them with a small bit of fear on your face having not eaten in 2 weeks you were scared of how your stomach would react. “Don't worry love, we’ll be right here with you.” You hear Wanda say. With that, you all start to make your way to your floor to enjoy lunch. With you thinking that no matter how stressed you got you will always have your girlfriends to make it better.

[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention in 4 Minutes Episode 5

If you watched this on iQIYI you missed a few scenes! A couple of which I think were actually important. Gaga has the full cut.

The show did a nice little montage summarizing the core theory (that is clearly correct): Great is in the midst of a NDE and is experiencing a mix of things during the 4 minute window: memories, perceptions, rewinds and do-overs, and a new start with Tyme who he purportedly had a relationship with in the original timeline.

Also as theorized, the NDE seems to have begun at 11:00, so Great has until 11:04 in this limbo space. We saw the clock advance to 11:03 in today's episode.

We still know very little about the original timeline, including how Great and Tyme got involved the first time around and what happened with their relationship there that might inspire the desire for a fresh start.

Re: the cold opens with Tonkla and the murders, I do not think we're being shown those events in chronological order given Title was still alive in today's open.

Speaking of, only a brief appearance in the open from Tonkla before he sat the rest of this episode out. Interesting after several weeks of him dominating the story.

I am still trying to make sense of the way this romance is advancing in the redo timeline, and it only works if both Great and Tyme are in this 4 minutes limbo together and coming with pre-existing knowledge of and inclination to trust each other. Otherwise, their instant closeness and partnership in this situation with Great's family really doesn't make sense. Why would Tyme tell Great everything and trust him to handle his family after just meeting him and having sex one time? That goes beyond straining credibility unless he is also reliving things.

The smartest thing Tyme could have done was to take that bribe money and run. If he wanted to be decent, he'd have given Nan a cut and helped her run, too. But he seems preoccupied with Great in a way that doesn't really track unless he also knows him already.

Speaking of Nan, that poor woman has been through it. I was yelling at Tyme when he told her nothing and expected her to just accept that he was not going to take action. As fucking if, dude.

The rewind/do over in this episode felt different than the others. When Great went back, he didn't actually relive the same scene, he and the shooter were just suddenly in different positions. And all he accomplished was getting himself shot along with his mom.

I liked the way the lady from the initial accident came back around this episode to cause that, BUT it also just opens up more questions about the timelines because if she died in the original timeline, she would not have been able to set up a hit on Great's family. So, did saving her cause new bad shit? Did Great's mom also die in the original timeline, but differently? And will anything that happens in the redo actually stick?

We saw in this episode that when Korn is actually in trouble he goes to Fasai, not Tonkla. I get the sense that he has been with Fasai for years and likely the entire time he's been messing around with Tonkla; I was not surprised that she's always known. They are not a love match but they need things from each other. He never intended to be with Tonkla for real.

By the way, I was dying at Korn's little motivational speech to Great. He has to help his father do evil shit so their family can "survive." Survive what? Not being filthy rich, I guess. Great's mom was similarly desperate to cling to the status and wealth she clawed and scraped for. Nobody in this family has any true morality.

And yet I find it weird that they are letting Great run around causing a ruckus and not putting a stop to it or even punishing him. He is remarkably spoiled and pampered compared to Korn. Is this their dad's feelings about his two wives being acted out on his sons? If so, why does Great hate his dad so much?

LET'S TALK ABOUT THE FINAL SCENE. As Tyme was running through the tunnel, lights flickering around him, there were bruises appearing and then disappearing on his face. Are we seeing his NDE??

This show is still so much fun to watch and think about even if I am scratching my head at some of what happens.

[wands-natsthing]

Stressed

This story was on my old acct @wandanatsthings I made a new one (aka this one) which will be the acct I use from now on.

Hey, guys so this post might contradict my last but this is something I struggled with and thought others might be able to relate So I thought i'd share. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is always welcomed. New writer. 

(P.s Im dyslexic i'm trying my best) 

Word count: 2.7k 

Warnings: Mentions of body type/weight (not specific #), not eating, speaks of being ambushed but does not go into detail. Working out, angst and fluff. Missing S/O. Cursing.  Panic attack maybe?/ breaking down sobbing. Stress. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I  miss anything :) 

Summary: Reader stressed out and doesn’t have an appetite while Wanda and Natasha are away on a mission. 

Y/n Pov

You had just gotten home from a long day at work where nothing had gone your way. It started with the mission reports that you swore you had completed going missing. You had torn almost your whole office apart looking for them. You just could not find them. You had finally accepted the fact that your work day would be spent redoing mission reports. When you got word that you would be sent on a mission to receive some data from Hydra that SHIELD needed. You usually didn’t complain about going on missions but with the mission reports that needed to be redone on top of the report you were going to have to write for this mission to say you were dreading it would be the least, but you packed up, got on your suit and went outside to the landing pad where the quin-jet was right there waiting for you.

When you got there you were able to get the files you needed. The problem only came when you were trying to leave. The heater sensor on your suit detected hydra agents right where you needed to go to get to the jet and by your heat sensor flashing red like crazy you could tell that there were a lot of them. You took a deep breath and started to walk towards them. The closer you got you could count that it was a total of 10 of them. “I can do this,” you said to yourself. The agent closest to you was to the right with his back turned so he couldn’t see you. You decided that now would be a good time to try out your girlfriend's widow bites that she had given you weeks prior. You threw one out towards him and watched it take effect.

That went well you thought but as you went to do the same to the other agents that had their backs to you, You had been spotted. They all came running towards you, some with their weapons drawn, others ready to avenge you with their fist. Luckily after a long gruesome fight, you were able to get back to the jet with all the information Furry needed. You had some scrapes and bruises but honestly, you didn't care. All you wanted to do was get back to Nat and Wanda. After the long shitty day you had, you decided that the mission reports could wait until a later date. When you got back to the Avengers compound furry was already waiting for you at the landing pad with his hand out for the flash drive that contains all the information SHIELD required.

“Do you have the file and what the hell happened to you?” furry said with a curious look on his face. “Yes I have the files and to answer your question I was ambushed.” You said anxiously to get back to your living corridors to shower and finally be with your girlfriends. “Well are you okay?” he asked. Now furry wasn't the type to show his emotions but you had become his daughter much like Natasha so it didn’t surprise you when he voiced his concerns. “Yes I'm fine, just a couple of scrapes and bruises, nothing I can’t handle.” you reassured him. “Okay well, if it becomes anything more go see Dr. Banner and thank you.” With that, he walked away to go wherever furry goes and you headed to your floor where you hoped your lovers would be waiting for you.

When you got there though you were surprised to hear that the house was fully quiet. Are they home? You wondered. To answer your question, you walked farther into the kitchen and you saw a note on the counter. You grab the note, open it and what you read makes your heart sink. “Hi Detka, we're sorry we are not there to welcome you home. We got called on a short mission and should be back by the end of tonight to have dinner with you. Also, I (Wanda) made your favorite for lunch. It's in the fridge, heat it when you're ready. Xoxo Wands & Natty.” You put the note back down on the counter with a sigh. You understood how random missions could be. I mean you just went on an unexpected one yourself but you really wanted your girlfriends to hold you after the crappy day you had and they weren't here. Now you know that's not their fault but you couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. You walked to the fridge to get the lunch your sweet witch had made for you and when you pulled it out you saw yet another note sitting on top of the cling wrap plate. You took the note off the plate and put it into the microwave so it could heat while you read the note. “Hi Detka, I hope you got our first note again we're sorry but I made your favorite. We love you!” You smiled at that. You love that they took the time to leave you notes. To you, it showed how much of a priority they thought you were.

By the time you finished reading the love-filled note, you heard the microwave beep. You got the food out, stopped by the drawer by the sink to grab yourself a spoon, and made your way to the dining room table to enjoy a meal that your wonderful girlfriend made. It made you chuckle when you thought back to how Wanda specified that it was her who made it. Both of you know that Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. When You take the cling wrap off of the plate. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t the food. No, the food looked amazing. It was you. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it. Now this wasn’t new to you. Anytime you had a bad day or things felt out of your control you just wouldn’t have an appetite. It had gotten better when you met your girlfriends. They would always listen to your venting and be there when you needed them. You hadn’t had this problem in a while when they were around. But you were a 24 y/o woman. You were sure you could handle a little stress without your girlfriends coming to your rescue. So you put up the food to come back to it later. While you were waiting for your appetite to come back around you decided to go take a shower and start on all the mission reports you had to get done.

A few hours had passed and it was almost dinner time. You had gotten so caught up in doing your mission reports that you hadn’t even realized that your loves were not back yet. With that, you got up to go ask Tony where they were to see if he had any updates. On your way to Tony’s lab, you stopped at the kitchen to get a water bottle, When you opened the fridge you saw your lunch still sitting there untouched “I'm gonna eat it later.” You said to yourself. When you got to Tony's lab you saw him hunched over looking at what looked like to be floor plans, for what you had no idea but you learned early on in your time here to never ask.

“Hey Tony,” you said approaching him. He looks up from what he’s doing and acknowledges you. “Hey kid, whatcha up too?” “Nothing much, um I was wondering if you had any update on Nat and Wanda? They were supposed to be back by now.” You replied. “No, why do you guys have a hot date planned or something?” He said winking at you. “No, Tony was just wondering where they were.” You say annoyed. He laughs and says “Okay okay um maybe ask Steve? He should know.” “Okay, thank you asshole.” You say with a slight smile on your face as you walk away. “Your welcome ass-hat.” You hear him yell. Although he was a pain in your ass 90% of the time you love the red tin man. You got on the elevator to go find Steve only to realize you had no idea where he was so you asked Friday. “Hey Friday, where’s Steve?” “Steve Rogers is in the gym agent y/l/n.” they reply. “Thanks, Friday.” You say back as you push the gym floor button on the elevator. When you arrive you walk in to see him punching a punching bag. He immediately notices you. “Hey, y/l/n what can I do for you?” He says “Hey cap I was wondering if you had any update on Wanda and Natasha. They said they were going to be back by dinner time. Any idea on where they are?” He looks at you with a sad look on his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry y/n their mission turned out to be not as easy as we thought and they're gonna have to go undercover for a week. Maybe more.” When you hear this your heart drops for a second time this day. “Okay, thanks, Steve.” You say sadly. “You welcome y/n.” He says with a frown on his face knowing how hard it is for you when the 2 red heads are away. When you get back to your floor you decide to call it a night exhausted from the day you've had. As soon as your head hits the pillow you're asleep dreaming that your girlfriends are in the bed with you. While the meal in the fridge sat there waiting to be eaten.

2 weeks. 2 weeks had passed since you saw your girlfriends and since you had a full proper meal. With the stress of work and missing your lovers, you had barely eaten anything more than an apple here and there with some water. Along with that, you had been working out to try and keep your mind off of the fact you hadn’t even talked to them in 2 weeks since it was an undercover no-contact mission. So it was no surprise that that's where you were when they came home.

Wanda’s Pov

When we finally got home after 2 weeks of being undercover all we both wanted was you, food, and a shower. You being the main goal though but when we came into the house it was quiet. We called out to you but no one answered. It was rare that when we returned from the mission you didn’t come running into our arms so excited that we were home so we then decided to ask Friday where you were. “Hey Friday, where's y/n?” “Welcome home Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanov. Agent y/l/n is in the gym currently.” They said, “Okay thanks Friday.” I said looking towards Natasha “Let's shower and stuff and then we can go get her and have dinner together.” I say. She nods towards me and says. “Sounds like a plan.” We then make our way to our bathroom to shower.

Nats Pov

After Wands and I shower I headed into the kitchen to get some water while she put on lotion. When I went into the fridge I was surprised to see that the meal Wanda made you still sat in the fridge untouched beside the note being gone. I then looked around more in the fridge to find that nothing else had been touched either. Everything was in the same place as how we left it 2 weeks ago. I then looked around the entire kitchen to come up with the same results. So I called Wanda out here to tell her what I had found and with one look we both raced to the gym to find you. When we got there we could see you through glass, running on the treadmill but when we walked fully inside the sight we saw broke our hearts. You were thin. Like unhealthily thin. Now you weren't even overweight to begin with so with all the working out and barely eating it was enough that within 2 weeks you looked sickly. At the sound of Wanda's gasp when she saw you. You finally noticed them standing there.

Y/n Pov

I was running on the treadmill with my headphones on when I looked up and saw the women I had been longing for for the past 2 weeks. I quickly shut off the treadmill and ran towards them. When I finally reached them I just hugged them, they immediately both hugged me back but something felt off. When I looked up at their faces both of them had tears in their eyes. I let go a little and asked them “What's wrong, Is everything okay? Are you guys hurt?” I say checking over them frantically. When I'm satisfied with my check I look up to them and what comes out of Wanda’s mouth makes my stomach turn."Have you been eating?” she says shakily “What do you mean? Of course, I've been eating.” I say getting a little defensive. “No you haven't’ the meal Wanda left for you before we left is still there and nothing has been moved in the kitchen or the refrigerator. Is everything okay? Are you sick?” Natasha asks. As soon as she asks that You break down in tears. All of the stress of the weeks prior catching up with you all at once. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” You say sobbing and falling to the floor. Wanda and Nat both catch you before you can reach the floor and bring you into their laps just holding you and whispering sweet nothings. When you've finally calmed down Natasha is the first one to speak. “Do you wanna tell us what's going on or would you like to talk about it later?” “No, we can talk about it now,” You say, your scratchy voice from crying.

While you're preparing yourself to tell them everything from the past weeks you feel both of them kiss your forehead and that's what gives you the strength to start talking. “Um before you guys left I had been having a rough day. My mission reports had gone missing and they were due soon and I had got sent on a mission that was supposed to be easy but then I got ambushed.” As you say that Wanda interrupts you and asks “Are you okay, did you need to go to medical?” while checking over you just like you had done minutes ago to the both of them.“I'm fine don’t worry,” You say kissing her hands you then continue. “As I was saying I was ambushed and all I wanted was you guys when I got home and you weren’t there. And don't apologize I can feel you both getting ready too. I understand unexpected missions happen and that is not your fault. When I realized you were not there I saw your first note on the counter which I love. When you leave me notes by the way but then I made my way to the fridge to get lunch. I had all intentions of eating it but when I sat down to eat it I just couldn’t.” You then go on to explain to them that when you're stressed out and when things get out of your control you lose your appetite.

After you're finished talking, Wanda begins to speak. “We are so sorry you had to go through that alone, but as long as we're your girlfriends you won’t ever again have to. Maybe we can talk to Bruce and find you some new coping skills to cope with the stress.” She says “Yeah, what do you think about that sweet girl?” Natasha asks you. You look up at them with so much love in your eyes. “I think that’s a great idea, thank you guys,” You said, giving each of them a kiss. “No problem zolotse,” Natasha says with a smile on her face. “How about we get some lunch?” says Wanda. You look up at them with a small bit of fear on your face having not eaten in 2 weeks you were scared of how your stomach would react. “Don't worry love, we’ll be right here with you.” You hear Wanda say. With that, you all start to make your way to your floor to enjoy lunch. With you thinking that no matter how stressed you got you will always have your girlfriends to make it better.

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

Feedback welcomed and very much appreciated!!

[adickaboutspoons]

When a Steard is not a Beard

I want to talk about the significance of Stede's beard in the opening dream sequence of s2e1, and how we know from Lucius in the first season that "not every beard is a beard". Of course SOME beards are just beards - most of the Revenge and QA crew sport face fuzz of some sort or another, and it's just How They Look. But, narratively speaking, when attention is called to facial hair in this show, it's all about deception and hiding one's true self.

We have Blackbeard, who has built his brand around his eponymous facial fur, but feels stifled by the way the success of said brand has left him bored out of his skull, and frustrated by the way his reputation has been co-opted and twisted into something inhuman. (And by poor Taika's accounts, the beard itself was literally stifling; unbearably hot to wear, and how he could hardly move the bottom half of his face lest the glue start peeling off). It's only when Ed shaves it off at the academy that he's able to start really approaching the question of what it means to be Just Ed. And, of course, we have the way he smeared kohl across his mouth and jaw in a frightful simulacrum of a beard as part of his Kraken transformation at the end of season 1.

We have Jim, who uses a fake beard to conceal their identity while on the run after having killed Alfeo de la Vaca. Only once that beard is discarded are they able to really think about who they are and how that doesn't fit in the narrow parameters of a gender binary. We see them go back into the beard when they re-commit themself to the vengeance quest, posing as a bearded priest in order to capture Geraldo, but, again divested of the beard, Jim is able to consider whether completing the vengeance quest and allowing their life to be consumed with a family that is dead and gone is something they want, or if they might be happier committing themself to a different path, and finding a family that will give them the love and support their own no longer can. And then, of course, the way Jim paints on a simulacrum beard when they are forced into a life of violence as part of Kraken!Ed’s crew.

We have Heartbroken Voyeur Stede’s comment about how Calico Jack had nice hair, but “his moustache is weird.” Shortly after, we learn that CJ has been a duplicitous, manipulative asshole the entire time, his only goal to lure Ed away from the Revenge before the British came to kill Stede.

So what does it say that Stede is dreaming about himself with a full beard? To have Dream!Ed specifically comment on it? Because they’re calling attention to it, so, hey, hi, how are you? You have my attention!

I think it’s not JUST that Stede is casting himself in the role of the dashing hero with all the trappings thereof, indulging in a fantasy about a joyous, romantic reunion with his beloved. Because this fantasy has some MUCH darker connotations than the sun-drenched beach would suggest. This Dashing Hero™ persona isn’t Stede’s idealized self. It’s the culmination of all his insecurities about not being the kind of person who is worthy of the attention and love of someone as impossibly cool as Blackbeard.

(Incidentally, I think it significant that Ed, in the dream, ALSO has his full beard. This more than anything is what clues me into the fact that Stede is still trying to measure up to the Legendary Pirate Blackbeard - not Just Ed with his soft, beautiful clean-shaven face, nor even a more realistic version with a beard that’s coming in quite nicely, but isn’t anywhere near the epic proportions that it once was, as we see with the scenes of real Kraken!Ed)

We learn later in the episode that Stede has been dragging his feet about setting out to reunite with Ed in spite of the all the money he and the crew have managed to scrape together working for Jackie, and the true reason behind his reticence is that he is still genuinely convinced that Ed is better off and happier without him. Even when reunited with Lucius in episode 2 and Lucius suggests that Ed’s time with Stede was “as good as it’s going to get for [Ed]”, Stede’s response is that he’s “not ready to believe that.” Stede really just is incapable of conceptualizing a reality in which Just Stede could ever be enough.

(And don’t get me started on Lucius’ beard! Lucius who was the emotional intelligence of the crew in the first season, and is now a guarded, brittle, traumatized shell of who he was. He’s 100% for sure not hiding behind a façade of butched-up toughness. Nope. Not. At. All.)

So in Stede's dreams, he’s the epitome of the kind of guy that WOULD be good enough. The kind of guy who has a beard and wears leather pants (hello queer urge to become the person that you sexually desire, how are you?). The kind of guy with neat, tidy, barely even wavy hair instead of perfectly coifed cherub curls. The kind of guy who, if he wears a fine fabric at all, it’s wrapped around his waist where it can be mostly concealed by a thick, macho belt, and trailing in front of his crotch like a fabric phallus (and, say, if Ed feels like touching it, maybe there’s something else in the vicinity that he might also be interested in touching?). The kind of guy who is tough and competent and can kill without remorse or pity.

[3terna15unshin3]

desperately need a blurb about matty showing este one of the (many) songs he wrote about her, maybe it’s the first one he writes for her! But he’s all nervous and she’s in shock all like “it’s about me??” And bc of her love for literature she’s like delving into the lyrics and falling in love with him and his mind all over again!!!!! could be cute!

Who Else?

a/n: cj!! suuuuch a cute concept thank u for the request💌 it’s kinda implied in the fic that Then Because She Goes is the first song he writes about Este but because it’s so lofty and the lyrics are so buried and vague, i thought it might be more fun to focus on a different (underrated imo) one :))) i hope u like it !!!!!

this another instalment of este and matty as always, read the full fic here <3

—

The first test pressing of Being Funny finally sits in Este’s excited hands. She always looks forward to spinning Matty’s work and being able to hold it physically before anyone else. Luckily, it came in a sample sleeve of what the final product would look like—unlike most test pressings that come in boring and generic packaging—so Este is able to admire and study its charming design. Matty watches, thrilled to see her reaction. 

Her eyes scan over the sleeves with the lyrics printed over them, picking out her favourites and smiling when she reads them. Knowing how truly earnest Matty had decided to be with his lyrics on this project, she can’t help but blush at the overtly romantic phrases and the fact that they could have been written with her in mind. 

“So who’s this one about?” Este poses sarcastically, pointing at All I Need To Hear and giggling in the process. She watches Matty lightly roll his eyes and the corners of his mouth pin up into a grin. 

“George, actually,” He jokes. 

He’s only just lowered the needle onto the black vinyl, so a couple of seconds afterwards, the two of them hear the telltale piano chords of the opening track. Matty steps back to let it play, taking a seat in the chair that sat next to their sofa. Este follows suit and lightly settles onto his lap, lyric sleeve still in hand. 

“Shut up,” she replies, continuing to read away. “I actually can’t think about that song too hard or else I’ll, like, fully weep.”

Matty chuckles, pulling her legs to the left so they dangle off the side and so he can see her face. He sets his arm across her thighs to hold her tight and clasps his hands together around her waist. 

“I mean every word, you know.” He says quietly. 

Este feels her nose get fizzy with emotion as she reads more of the lyrics. 

'Cause I don't need music in my ears

I don't need the crowds and the cheers

Oh, just tell me you love me

'Cause that's all that I need to hear

She thought about how punctuated by music Matty’s life had been; how it was the only way he can make sense of the world. How deeply it made him feel and know himself. And how it brought him the most important connection he’s built—his audience and the mark he’s left on them. 

Then, her mind wandered to the way he somehow unabashedly declares that her love is set above all of that; through the song. It’s the ultimate exclamation of love and devotion.

He wrote that about you, Este thinks to herself. Her nose goes fizzy again. She blinks away the tears that rise. 

Her fingers find their way around the nape of Matty’s neck, and she caresses the skin there gently. “I’m serious, love. I’ll snot on you.” Este warns. 

They laugh together for a second, then hear the record switch over to Happiness. Matty studies the way her foot begins tapping to the beat and how her lips move ever so slightly, to mouth the words to herself. 

“God, this is the best song ever,” Este gushes as the needle scraping along the vinyl helps remind her of how much she loves it. He shrugs, raising his heel along to the song making her bounce up and down. She laughed at how nonchalant he was attempting to be. “Don’t be humble. It is.”

He looks at the floor and then up at her. “Another one written about you.” He says, kissing her shoulder.

She looks down at him, setting down the record sleeve. “Would you really go blind just to see me?”

Matty nods slightly. The brown in his eyes glows with admiration. “I’d go too far just to have you near, too,” he teases. 

There’s a shyness in his voice that Este can hear buried beneath the light sarcasm. It makes her heart flutter while Waughy’s saxophone blares through the speakers with charisma.

“Do you always think about me when writing love songs?”

It’s a question she ponders quite often. She’s not sure why she does; but she struggles to conceptualise being the subject of art she loves so dearly. Though Este can tell it’s second nature to him. 

“Course. Who else?” Matty answers, like it’s obvious, because it is. 

Este shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe the ones before me.” 

“Can’t even remember their names, now that you’ve come along.” He says casually. 

As they continue to listen, Este eventually gets up to flip it to the next side. But as she does, the conversation they share reminds her of one of the first times Matty admitted to writing about her, and how precious it was. 

Este has a clear memory of Matty being on tour in 2019 and sending her messages about Then Because She Goes, when it was a work in progress. She thinks it was easier for him to hint and imply the lyrics were about her—how their times together felt so indulgent even though the pain of parting ways came along with that—because he didn’t have to do it to her face. He had sent her voice memos of it while he was halfway across the world and Este witnessed the song grow from an idea to a fully fleshed moment of splendour on the record. It was such a special experience.

But, when she managed to learn that there was more (quite a few more, Matty would later reveal) on Notes that had an undertone of Este-ness, his admittance was much more timid. 

It was after the release of the album was pushed back a few times, a period of time she would frequently find Matty hunched over his laptop screen with stress. The final touches of mixing and mastering were occurring. Track by track, things were being perfected, and Este grew more and more eager to hear the project as a whole.

Finally, Matty asked her to join him for a front-to-back listen-through of the album. They sat down together and shared his pair of Airpods, the left for him and the right for her, and pressed play on his files.

Because of its sporadic final weeks of creation, there were some songs that sounded different to when Este had first heard them, and even a few she hadn’t heard at all. One that was new to her had been a last minute addition that George composed of a rogue idea sitting in Matty’s notes app. It ended up being a favourite of hers.

“You hadn’t shown me Bagsy Not In Net,” Este pointed out when the album was over and she had spilled enough praise.

“We made it so spontaneously. Towards the end. I guess it just never came up,” he explained, picking at the skin on his fingers. “Do you like it? I really like it.”

She furiously nodded. “That’s why I brought it up. It really stood out to me.”

Matty clicked randomly around on his laptop and refused to meet her eyes as he said, “I’m glad Bagsy stands out. I was nervous you wouldn’t like it.”

Este’s brows furrowed.

“Since when do you care about whether anyone likes your work besides you?” She said playfully.

“Are you kidding?! I always care about you liking my—”

Este giggled, putting her finger over his lips to muffle his sentence and end it abruptly. “Okay, okay. You do care. But I feel like you’re never nervous. Like, with every other song—”

“I was nervous because Bagsy Not In Net is about wanting to die with you.” 

Her mouth remained agape as Matty interrupted. It came out of his mouth with impulse and haste as if it had been sitting behind his teeth begging to be heard. 

All the while, his eyes stayed glued to his laptop screen. He was afraid of it being too bold of a concept, or that she wouldn’t feel the same way—given the fact that it had barely been three months since they’d gotten back together. It was easy as ever to write about her and send her little messages through a screen that hinted at him doing so; but having Este’s real and living gaze burn into his face while admitting something so raw was not the walk in the park he hoped it would be. His heart began racing, and he didn’t know when it would stop.

“It’s about me? Are you sure?” Este spluttered. 

Matty eventually peeled his eyes away and met hers. 

“Who else?”

Later, after a long night, the two of them whispered quiet words to one another in bed before turning over and shutting their eyes. Este had another idea, though, and turned her phone back on. She slipped on her headphones, and opened the audio file sitting in her notes. 

Este begged Matty to Airdrop a copy of Bagsy Not In Net over to her so that she could listen to it again. Sure, she was addicted to the charming orchestral introduction and how it pulsated alongside the beat as the song progressed. But really she was just desperate to hear the lyrics again.

She closed her eyes as she listened, taking in each word.

This feeling, it's something when you call me

I'm dealing in death and being lonely

Try it, don't like it

And leaving you here is the thing that I fear, so I fight it

Her heart panged at the idea of Matty being afraid of the end. Then Because She Goes was almost an anthem of hope, or of reassurance, that their time apart would at least be temporary. But this—these lyrics—hit Este in such a different way. It was desperate and stark and honest. Matty was begging for her to agree that they were all or nothing. That even death is something they ought to do as a pair. Este couldn’t possibly make sense of how huge the sentiment was, and how beautifully it came together with the instrumental. 

The song looped a couple of times before she finally pressed pause. Este shrugged the headphones off of her head and set them back onto her bedside table. The noise of her headphones made Matty open his eyes, realising that she was still awake.

Her back was turned to him, so he peered over her shoulder to see the glowing screen of her phone. He watched Este open the notes app on her phone, and slowly type, “Do you want to leave at the same time?” into a new file. He sleepily smiled. 

She didn’t label it, or type anything further. Copying the line heard over and over in her new favourite song was the only objective. She was hoping that making note of it would help her remember it forever, even though she probably would anyway.

[thornsnvultures]

eddie munson x plus size!afab!reader nsft/18+

couldn't stop thinking about how red joseph got in this vid and my brainrot kicked in 🍅 @mantorokk-writes you were asking about weird hcs and this is mine lol

---

Eddie turns lobster red when he's fucking you. Like full flush, sunburnt red. And of course he doesn't know, cause who stops in the middle of sex to say something? Not one of the two people he's been with before you, that's for sure.

You love watching the color spread down from his forehead and the tips of his ears, all the way down to his chest. It doesn't take long either. One second he's his usual pasty white, the next he's sweaty and panting and hot all over.

"Eddie, can you c'mere? I wanna show you something."

He finds you at the sink in the bathroom of the trailer, touching up your makeup. The two of you are going out, some punk bar in the city that he heard about from one of the guys at the Hideout.

"How beautiful you look? Cause I already knew that."

He snakes his arms around your waist, dodging the elbow you throw back at him with a smile.

"What is it, baby?"

"C'mere," you tug on his arm, pulling him around to stand in front of you. He waves at himself in the cabinet mirror above the sink earning a giggle from you.

"Can you stop being cute for one second, please?"

"Can't help it. I'm adorable."

Eddie's laugh turns into a groan when your hand slips around the front of him and cups his cock over his tight, black jeans.

"Christ, babe, what the-"

"Shh," you press a kiss to his bare back and nod to his reflection. "Watch."

His gaze flickers between himself and your hands undoing his belt, then lowering his zipper. Already his dick was filling out from your touch and by the time you had him out and in your hands he was hard as nails.

"Look, Eddie."

"How am I supposed to look at anything but you right now?" He whined but did as he was told, watching slackjawed as you worked his cock in front of the mirror. Your breathy giggle behind him only made him ache more.

"Look'it how red you are, baby."

Eddie groaned, your hand was moving too fast, too slick over his cock. That and the other one squeezing and pinching at his nipple? He was gonna black out before he looked in the mirror again.

"This is what I see every time you're on top of me. Pounding into me like you need my pussy to live."

"Fuck, I do, baby. I do."

Eddie's eyes could barely stay open, it felt to good, your words too filthy. But he saw it. His bare chest flushed a deep red, white lines raked through from the scrape of your nails across his skin. He almost wanted to laugh. If your hands didn't feel so good he might be able to choke out a joke, but the only thing he could think of was you, you, you.

You pressed kisses across his back, whispering praise into his goosebump covered skin.

"Gonna come for me, Eddie? Want you to see how pretty you are when you come."

"God fuck-," Eddie gasped and watched himself as he came, flushed and sweaty and weak-kneed in your arms.

You moaned, watching as you angled his cock over the sink, jerking him through the mess he made.

"Y'know you could've just told me I look like a tomato when I'm fucking you, right? Ya little pervert," Eddie chuckled as he did up his pants.

"But where's the fun in that? And you know you looked hot."

Eddie turned back around and took you in his arms, smiling as a pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Tomato fucker."

"Eddie!"

[ddejavvu]

Hi Mei!

Let me just say you’ve probably seen me liking literally every piece of fluff you’ve ever posted with this man’s name on it in the last few days and I’m obsessed

I might have already missed mvm but otherwise could I ask to see dbf!hotch showing up for you when the actual family in question doesn’t? Like reader is really really excited for an event/milestone and only hotchy knows how much you care and shows up?

Definitely not filling a sick little void in my own life? no?! I would never…. 🙇🏼

ohhhh to be supported by soft dbf!hotch <3

--

The laces of your shoes are twisted, and you're on minute three of trying to straighten them out. They're flat ones, thin, so they flip around and fold themselves this way and that when you loosen them. They look messy when tightened, and you've got nowhere to be anyways, so you sit on the back steps of your dance studio's steps and untwist them.

Your fingernails are already marred from the zipper on the back of your costume dress. Paying hundreds of dollars for an ugly outfit you only wore once on stage for an hour was not worth it, and your nails are starting to break even more against the tightly bound shoes on your feet.

You hear chatter all around, parents congratulating their kids, friends laughing with each other, but your world is silent. It's just the scrape of your fingernails against your laces, and your near-silent breathing.

You hear the scrape of rubber against rock, then a pair of black dress shoes steps into your field of vision.

You look up at whoever's standing by the stairs, ready to dart out of their way, but it's-

"Aaron!" You gush, rocketing to your feet to ram into him in a hug that nearly topples him over, "You're here!"

"I'm here," He laughs, loud and long and deep from his chest, warmth gushing out of the sound and into your chest as he squeezes you tight, "You were amazing!"

"I don't understand," You breathe, pulling back to look at him dazedly, "I didn't invite you. I mean-!" You struggle to right yourself, and his face flushes red as he tries holding in a laugh, eyes scrunched at the edges, "I mean, like, I never gave you a ticket, I- I didn't think you'd want to come. So how did you get in?"

"This is really helpful," He flashes a corner of the black leather case that you know his FBI badge is in, and your heart soars.

"Thank you for coming," You go in for another hug, spotting a group of people behind him, lingering with smiles on their faces and flowers in their hands, "Uh...?"

"My team," He keeps a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to them, where you're bombarded with bouquets, and a hug from a rather bubbly blonde, "I treated everyone to a night off tonight so that we could come and see you perform."

You're hit with a wave of emotion you're not sure you'll ever be able to properly express, probably not without getting a little too in-depth about feelings you'd rather not bring up. You choose instead to revel in the giddiness that comes from Aaron's presence, his team's sweet smiles, and his hand on your back, leading you to a black SUV where you're treated to the passenger's seat.

It means that three grown men have to sit in the middle row, broad shoulders squished against neutral, then skinny ones.

"I used to dance, too," A voice pipes up from the third row, a dark-haired woman in pretty nude lipstick, "But I got in trouble for kicking a kid in the shins, and they threw me out."

You giggle at the image, and the smile she shoots you through the rear-view mirror only makes you more giddy.

"I don't find that too hard to believe," Aaron glances back at her, a similar smile on his face that his team seems just as enamored by as you are, "Why did you kick him?"

"He made fun of my friend," She shrugs, "'Said she looked like a baby deer."

"Because of her legs?" The broad-shouldered man peers back at her, and at her nod of approval, scrunches his face into a grimace, "Man, that's harsh."

"I mean, she did look like a baby deer." The woman confirms, and a slim blonde next to her snorts, "But no one's allowed to say it, you know?"

"Don't kick anyone in the shins," Aaron's hand shoots out to brace on your knee, squeezing softly as he uses a red light to glance over at you warningly, "At your age I think it would be considered assault, and while I would rescue you from prison, I'd prefer not to."

"Don't listen to him, Y/N. Kick mean boys in the shins," The woman pipes up from the back, pretty dark eyes focused on you, "I'll come bail you out, and we can go out for ice cream on the way home from jail."

[rolandtowen]

what's up nerds, new fanfiction for yall!

I went on hiatus for three years and came back with Cherik brain rot. Read it on ao3 or under the cut. Chapter two will be up shortly.

It started innocently enough. A chess game, two glasses of scotch, what could go wrong?

The topic of conversation this night was the hypotheticals of their powers.

“Do you think you could control the iron in a person’s blood?” Charles moved one of his knights forward.

Erik hummed noncommittally, moving a pawn forward one space. “I think it’s possible. I haven’t truly had the opportunity to try it.”

“But, could you sense people by their blood perhaps? Not manipulate it, but recognize it the way I recognize minds?”

Erik smirked. “That seems like something I could try without a certain someone getting mad at me.”

Charles put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not saying I want you to mess with people’s veins, but it’d be good to know in case we run into anyone else with your mutation.”

Erik knocked a rook off the board with one of his bishops. “I’ve always wondered, do people have to be alive for you to get into their minds? Hank was telling me the other day that scientists think there can be electrical activity in the brain for a few minutes after death.”

Charles scoffed. “I don’t really make a habit of trying to commune with the dead, darling.” He moved his queen. “Check.”

“Well, what if you could tell those scientists for sure? Connect with someone before they die, and see what all that activity afterwards is about?” Erik moved his king.

Charles stiffened. “I find that highly unethical.” Charles slid his rook to protect his own king.

Erik glanced up at him, gauging his emotions as he moved his last knight. “Just speaking hypotheticals, liebling. Check, by the way.”

Charles made a wasteful move with another pawn, clearly uncomfortable with Erik’s line of thought. “I wouldn’t advise any telepath to stay connected with someone during their death. I did it only once, and never again.”

“What do you mean?” Erik thought that perhaps Charles had reached out to Raven before she died, perhaps to give her some comfort.

Charles’ eyes grew hard. “When you killed Shaw.”

Erik’s hand froze in the middle of moving his rook. Charles saw his confusion immediately.

“What, did you think I was able to keep him frozen and not be connected to him telepathically?”

Erik began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut. “I guess, I thought—I thought you let go when I..”

“When you started driving a coin through his head?” Charles forcefully moved his queen forward. “Had I done that, he could have killed you.”

“So you tied yourself to a dying man?!”

“It’s not my fault you were killing him! Fucking slowly, might I add.”

What?

“You felt him die? Why didn’t you tell me?” The chess game was forgotten.

“When would I have had the time? You shot me and left with my sister.”

Charles regretted his words instantly as Erik lowered his eyes. “To be honest, Erik, I wasn’t entirely sure what happened. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I felt Shaw die. No other telepath has felt another’s death, at least to my knowledge.”

Erik was quiet for a long moment, before speaking in a whisper. “Show it to me.”

“What? No!” Charles sputtered. Erik still wasn’t meeting his eye, so Charles grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “Erik, I am not about to force the worst pain I’ve ever felt into your mind.”

“You aren’t forcing me,” Erik countered. “I’m asking you to show me.”

“Why? So you can make some demented penance? This is new level of masochism, even for you.” Erik’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. Charles softened his grip on Erik’s chin, scraping a thumb over his cheek. It was wet. “My love, I’ve already forgiven you, for all of it.” He wanted to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, talk him down from this ledge, and forget this whole conversation.

Erik caught Charles’ hand, holding onto it like an anchor. “How am I supposed to forgive myself, Charles? When I never even knew what I did?” Erik brought Charles’ fingers up to his temple. “Show me. You carry so much of my pain, let me carry some of yours for once.”

Charles’ hand was shaking, but Erik sent a mental message, inviting him in, begging—

Please.

Charles’ answer was agony.

***

Immediately, Erik was flooded with voices.

“Now, Charles!”

“Are you okay?”

“Moira, be quiet—I can only control this man for so long.”

Erik was in Charles’ head, in his memory, yet at the same time he was in his own head, as well as Shaw’s. He could see his past self, picking up his helmet.  

“Sorry, Charles.” His own voice, haunting him.

“Erik, please—be the better man—Erik, there will be no turning back!” And just like that, the connection between them was severed as his past self donned his helmet. This was where Erik’s own memory had previously ended their conversation, but now Erik could hear every word that Charles had screamed at him, willing him not kill Shaw.

He felt Charles’ fear when his past self revealed the coin. It was like the floor dropped out from underneath Charles. Chills ran down his spine. He wanted to run, to fight, but Charles knew that if he let go, Erik could die.

For the first time, Erik could also hear Shaw. For a man who presented himself as so superior, his final thoughts were frantic and pleading.

Xavier, please, unfreeze me. Please, I can help you. I have resources, anything you want—you can have it. Please don’t let me die like this—

But overriding Shaw’s babbling was Charles, still focused on Erik, still pleading with him, despite their severed connection.

“No, please, Erik, no.” Charles’ voice was quavering but his power remained strong. Erik could see through Shaw’s eyes as the coin approached, could feel Shaw screaming, but most of all could feel Charles begging to be heard by him. “Please, Erik.”

Erik finally understood the fear. It wasn’t that Charles was so afraid of Erik killing Shaw—Charles was afraid the Erik was going to kill him.

Charles thought he was about to die, but held onto Shaw anyway.

As the coin drew nearer and nearer to Shaw, Erik could hear Charles whimper one last “please”. And then the pain started. Charles could only scream, but even in his agony, Erik could still hear him mentally calling out for him.

Erik, Erik, please, it hurts. Erik could feel Shaw’s skin splitting and his skull cracking, could feel the shards of bone impaling nerves and skin. When Erik killed Shaw, it felt like no time at all passed between the moment the coin entered his head and passed out the other side, but to Charles—this was an eternity. Erik could pinpoint the exact time Shaw’s screams finally cut out, but Shaw was still feeling, which meant Charles was too. After what felt like years, Charles’ connection to Shaw cut out, and Charles’ mind went black.

[ohbo-ohno]

got any hcs or anything about if ghost and soap got their hands on a virgin reader?? Not even necessarily a super young (I’m thinking mid twenties??) reader, just an inexperienced one who hasn’t done anything bc she didn’t care to, but now she’s got these two soldiers absolutely obsessed with her :))))

love love love your writing

hello!! not sure if you meant ghost x reader and soap x reader separately but i wrote this as if they'd picked you up at a bar together or smth :) i think they'd love to have an inexperienced reader between them. they'd be very pleasantly surprised to find out how little you'd actually done in bed, and take full advantage of the fact that they get to blow your mind for a night (which, of course, ends up being far from the end of things between the three of you)

johnny is definitely into overstimulation (on all sides) and he would totally get off on completely overwhelming you with pleasure. all these sensations, experiences you've never had before? depending on how inexperienced you are, he'd nearly come untouched just from learning you'd never had an orgasm before. he'd eat your pussy for hours, just showing you all the different ways a man's tongue can make you feel. he'd make it his sole mission in life to make you squirt. he'd only fuck you once you were nearly incoherent, would probably be staring deep into your eyes when he finally fucks you, catching every shift of your facial expression as he shows you a whole new world of pleasure.

i think ghost would get off on the idea that they're the only ones who've ever had you. johnny would too, to some extent, but it really does it for ghost. the idea that you've never been touched by another man, never trusted anyone enough to let them touch you? it would totally feed his ego. and he'd love to shape you to their exact desires, show you just how to be good for them. he'd fuck you after johnny (depending on how willing you are/how dark you want to get, he might even take your ass to really show you everything :/) and would love seeing you all pleasure-drunk, hardly able to keep your eyes open.

the next morning (or later in the night) simon would take the time to teach you how to properly suck his cock. tells you that you need to know how to use all your holes if you really don't want to be a virgin anymore, patiently takes what feels like forever to work you up to taking his whole cock down your throat, nose flush to his pubic bone. johnny's all languid and half asleep in the bed still, tells you all the little things ghost's likes in a blowjob - how to move your tongue, when to scrape your teeth lightly across, to swallow when his head's at the very back of your throat.

this would make for a very long and very exhausting one night stand, but i could see johnny want to show you how to 69 for the first time. you've just learned how to suck a cock, but focusing on him while he's licking at your cunt like it's his favorite desert? nearly impossible. maybe simon eggs you on, says you're not being fair to johnny by staying mostly still while he thrusts in and out of your mouth :/ but you're so sore and tired, can barely think past the tongue on your core. but johnny's sensitive and desperate, it doesn't take much work from you to get him to come <3

[bokettochild]

Hi! First off, I sent some ramblings before, and I feel safe here to share my thoughts! Your blog is amazing, to start.

Okay, so I can't read your opera house AU, though I bet it is amazing. I just don't have AO3, and when I look it up, I can't find it, so that's fine! I read your thing where it described who each LU character was in your opera house AU, and I love how Legend is a jack of all trades.

(I think it's a jack of all trades. It might be a jock of all trades.🤷‍♀️)

I feel legend, is kinda of self-conscious about his voice and thinks he isn't good enough to be on stage. That's why he mostly stays backstage and fixes things for last minute, and lets Fable take the stage.

I feel like even though Legend has been there for...like all of his life, when he saw Dusk, Artemis, and Warriors, he kind of shrunk in on his talent, seeing how they were literally crowd-pleasers. Everyone loves them; the crowds go wild when they see them on stage.

I feel like this happened once when everyone went out to get something for the play they were doing. He went on stage and just sang a hard song that not even Artemis or Warriors could do, but he nailed it.

I also feel like he would act like Jeremy Jordan. Jeremy Jordan.

Jeremy Jordan Did Bonnie and Clyde the musical and the scene raise a little hell The song, the first one he does, this great acting where he acts like he got beaten horribly, he is terrified. I describe it badly, but if you look it up if you want, I feel like that's how legend would act. He would put his heart and soul into his acting.

I feel like the warriors accidentally bullied the legend once because of something that made him shrink in on himself more when it came to stage time.

Anyways I love your blog!

I'm sorry to hear that! I have most of my fics blocked so non-users can't see them, mostly due to the rise in bots on Ao3 scraping for works and stealing our creations. If you'd like though, I can post them here as well! I used to cross-post a lot of stuff, but I stopped when I realized I could never find the fics again after LOL

And yes! Legend is the jack-of-all-trades at the Crown City opera! He grew up in the opera house (Twilight, his uncle, has been a stage-hand there since he was a baby) so he's been able to learn first hand from masters of the trade how to do basically everything there is to know! He's not as good with paperwork and the advertising aspect, as most of that sort of thing is done by Lullaby and Dot, but he's got the bare-bones knowledge (there's a rumor that Lullaby made sure he knew because she intends to leave the opera to him one day, but it's just a rumor).

I don't know if Legend is so self-conscious about his voice, but he's definitely not aware of how good he is. Like I said; he grew up learning from the best, and a lot of the crew and cast found it fun to show him how to do stuff in their down time, so he's probably got a better education in music than anyone else in the building. However, because he doesn't take acting as his main role and mostly helps in the back, he's sort of fallen into the belief that he's only maybe slightly better than average. Is he? Heck no! He could probably give the divas a nice run for their money if he was trying hard enough! However, while he most certainly has given his all to every role (he really does love acting) he still maintains that he's an "average nobody" who fills in on occasion when someone calls out sick, or plays the lesser roles when they're short on cast.

The opera knows he's good, Lullaby knows he's good, and gosh do their audiences know he's good! but because Legend is under the impression that he's average, he doesn't seek more time in the spotlight. Additionally, since Lullaby knows he loves what he is doing (he very much enjoys his prop work and set creation and costuming opportunities, don't let the grumbling fool you), she doesn't see a reason to call on him excessively if that's not what he wants. After all, he wasn't hired to be part of the cast (although whether he was actually officially hired at all is unknown, although he's paid very well).

I will say he does compare his skill to the divas, but sort of in a casual way when he's talking to Hyrule and the rest of his team. Sort of in the whole manner of: "I'm not like Dusk or anything, there's a reason you don't see my face on the billboards". I will say he's probably compared himself a lot to them in this manner though and convinced himself that he's not that great in comparison, but he's chill with it because obviously he can't be good at everything, and he's good at his job, so that's what matters.

His biggest point when people bring up his skill is always that there's a reason the divas' names are well known and he's just crew. What he doesn't know is that he very much has a near cult following and there are theories online. He's not very present on social media or anything, but their audiences know there is this one actor/actress who appears sometimes to fill roles or to cover when the headliners can't be there. Nobody knows what said actor/actress's name is, and they actually aren't even sure what gender he is, they just know said person has a lot of skill and they wish he'd show up more!

Lullaby is aware of this, but again, she respects Legend's choice to do his job, and also has no interest in throwing him to the dogs by releasing his name if he doesn't want her too. She wants him to have a normal life, thank you, not get hounded by media and fans like some of her staff are.

His skill is totally comparable to Jeremy Jordan though! Absolutely love that idea (and the idea that maybe he sounds like him too!)

As for the whole Warriors suggestion, I think they both tease each other back and forth a lot. Warriors is a good few years older, so he isn't mean with it, but considering their dynamic, it's not too far out there to suppose that maybe he once teasingly commented on Legend's singing skill with the intent of implying it was good, but Legend (pessimist that he is) assumed it was negative. In which case, he probably is a bit self-conscious about it sometimes, although it's less noticeable. It'd be more like he doesn't sing as loudly while working if he hears Wars nearby, and gets touchy when the diva talks about his skills. Wars isn't a jerk though, so he probably is clueless about the mix-up.

With all this in mind though, I can totally see the main story (when I do actually write it, LOL) featuring Legend as that sidelined, super-star-level nobody who teaches our lead (Hyrule) how to absolutely wow the crowds. Would he know why Hyrule asked him? No. He probably assumes Rule just asked the guy he actually knows, that and the divas are unapproachable or smth, or maybe because Legend's been here a while. Man has no clue, but he will help Hyrule to the best of his abilities!