#like I am trying to be alive for 12 more hours can we just get to that and see where it goes from there

[socks-in-b3d]

There is a special type of hell and it’s when the school has an event for parents to turn up to but it’s like in the dick and bawls of the quarter where I would rather do anything but have to be asked well what do YOU want to do? A thousand times

[severinewrites]

Finding Independence Without Love

Musings of independence with the absence of love feat. Moominvalley

Dependency is common in some relationships and could happen in both platonic and romantic relationships. We see our partners/friends as a source of happiness every time we feel down. Our clinginess strengthens when we have a special person in our lives, thinking of them as a person without flaws or perfect. This can be an unhealthy way of how we act or think in our relationships with other people, we can’t expect they’ll satisfy our needs immediately, it’s like you are viewing them as the top of our pedestal, admiring them a lot.

I am saying this from my perspective as a young adult, I’ve experienced the first time feeling disappointed in my ex-crush when I hear he likes someone else. It hurts a lot to hear from the person you’ve admired for so long like someone other than you, I mean, it’s a universal experience, right? Getting disappointed or rejected, you start to get mad at yourself like hitting, pulling your hair, or even slapping yourself for not getting chosen, you feel like an idiot for being delusional thinking you’re the “one” for them. It’s a tragic feeling, I know—but I tried to forget about them, not as a friend but as a “crush”.

During my Christmas break, I struggled to cope with my feelings, so I doomscrolled YouTube for 10-12 hours for 3 days straight without reaching out to someone because I needed to isolate myself from what happened, trying to forget it ever happened. Then, I stumbled upon a show called “Moominvalley” on my for you page, I decided to watch the clips, and guess what? I fell in love with it quickly even though it’s been 3 days since I knew about this show. Moominvalley is a comforting show, and what intrigued me about the show is the character Snufkin, an easygoing and carefree enjoys thinking about things and always comes and goes as he pleases, going on adventures. Like Snufkin, I enjoy solo trips, I'm not a big fan of trips with my friends (depends on my mood but I prefer solo to groups) since I do treasure my alone time a lot, able to think about stuff or explore everywhere without any people around trying to drain my energy emotionally and physically. With my solo trips, I'm able to reflect on many stuff without any distractions. Just because I enjoy being alone doesn't mean I don't feel lonely… I have friends who care about me a lot—including my ex-crush but despite them being overall supportive and approachable, I can't help but try to push them away from me—isolating myself, especially what happened between my ex-crush and me, I can't face them anymore something that leads me to isolate myself from them and my friends, not wanting help or comfort from them anymore. I shut myself from them, I don't want to make things complicated. Snufkin really relates toMoninn on a deeper level, making him my kin since he does push away friends, has abandonment issues, fears getting attached, is sad on the inside, and struggles to talk/chat with someone.

Through the show Moominvalley, I’ve learned the hard way that even the people you deeply love and admire, you need to accept that you can’t control how they feel or act, because well… they are humans, right? They deserve to feel or act what they want, even having feelings for somebody they like, even if it’s not you. It’s sad because that person made you feel alive or wanted, through the physical touch, words of affirmation, and more—makes me so special to them. Maybe that’s the reason why I fell in love with them in the first place. This also relates to the relationship between Moominttoll and Snufkin, Moominroll being clingy and a bit obsessed to Snufkin makes him admire him because of his adventures but unlike Snufkin, he tries to avoid any attachment to Moomintroll, resulting him to leave everytime to get some alone time or to isolate himself in his adventures. Moomintroll is also one of the characters I've kinned too, him being so clingy towards Snufkin reminds how I acted towards my ex-crush but not as obsessive, just right. Moomintroll has longings for Snufkin, always wanting to be in his side everytime, like how I've wanted to be in my ex-crush's side whenever I have a chance too—but sadly they found someone they always want to be close with… I'm glad for them but I tend to feel lonely without them around, yearning for some message or conversation from them—nothing is the same anymore as before… but that's life, there will be changes, whether you like it or not.

Therefore, I still need time for myself and watch more Moominvalley to find my purpose in life outside heartbreaks. Even I would love to talk/chat with them, it’s time to use this vacation to take a break from them for a while, giving myself time to grow as an independent person—not needing their comfort or help and focusing on my passion for writing, like what I am doing right now. Sometimes, we need to depend on ourselves, without needing anyone to fix us. That's what I did to cope.

To end this, I would like to add a quote from Moominvalley from the character Snufkin, he once said:

“You can't ever be really free if you admire somebody too much.” - Snufkin (Moominvalley 2019)

This quote explains we can't really be free if we admire that special person too much, draining your energy mentally and emotionally. I wish I've heard this show during my childhood then I wouldn't have to deal with heartbreaks all of the sudden. But I guess things happen for a reason. Moominvalley is truly a masterpiece, especially the creator itself Tove Jansson, the one responsible for making this beautifully crafted show for us to love and enjoy, making us learn meaningful lessons.

We humans seek longing, wanting be loved by that person we admired but I know we're better than that—I’m better than that anyways! We know that those people we love are humans too, so why waste our time waiting for approval from them? We could try to look after ourselves and be a independent with or without them—needing no love from them at all! Love can wait but not with hopes and dreams, our passions in life are much more important than some hopeless romance. We don't need that person we deeply admire to take over our lives, we should move forward and never look back! It's such a shame not to take a chance to do what you're passionate about when we only live once.

With Moominvalley, It's possible for us to grow to independent individuals thriving to make the world a better place! With my strong love for writing, I could write freely, writing down my musings, feelings, and emotions. I’m grateful to be alive where the world is filled with endless possibilities, where you can be free from everything! Be who you want to be, explore everything until you find your purpose—that’s the beauty of independence without love!

“It is simply this: do not tire, never lose interest, never grow indifferent—lose your invaluable curiosity and you let yourself die. It's as simple as that.” - Tove Jansson (Fair Play 1989)

[m0llygunn]

CREATURE FROM THE GRAVE

Creepy guy on the side of the road? Perfectly acceptable to pick up and bring home, especially when he’s the living dead.

Summary: The first night at your house— the undead has a name! wc: 900 ─── † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † ───

“Frankie boy, my love, my new pal, please stop gargling or growling or whatever that dreadful noise is.”

He gurgles another low, stomach deep noise, and you use your elbows to prop yourself up on the mattress, looking over the edge to see him lying on the floor. His eyes meet yours and with his cracked, decrepit lips pulled into a frown, you make a mental note to buy him some chapstick tomorrow. His frown deepens, brows pinching together as he shakes his head, upset over something. You fall back onto your pillow with a sigh. 

“What is it now?”

He groans in response, dragging out his deep, annoyed tone. You hear shuffling as his voice grows taller. 

Rolling your eyes, you meet his gaze as he sits up on his makeshift bed, barely visible through the darkness of your room.

“Frankie, I can’t understand you. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about enunciation?” 

He grunts. You sit up again and as soon as he has your focus, in a slow, creaky movement, he raises his arm to point at his chest. 

“You?”

He nods. His shaky finger points towards his chest again, pairing the movement with a negating shake of his head. 

“You not…?” you guess.

He nods enthusiastically— well, as enthusiastically as the undead can get. He points to his chest again and you have absolutely no clue what he’s trying to say. Zero, zilch, nada clue. It’s past midnight and he might not need sleep but you do.

“You not… tired?” you guess again. He groans, shaking his head, disagreeing. He pauses for a brief moment, shrugging— maybe— but then he continues shaking his head more convincingly than before. He’s not tired but that’s not what he’s trying to say. 

With a sigh, you deflate. It’s already felt like the longest night of your life but now this… “Frankie—”

He grunts harshly, interrupting you. His jagged movements point his finger into his chest a final time, followed by a final shake of his head. 

“You’re not Frankie?”

He nods, letting out an agreeable grunt. 

“Well, I know that, silly. We’ve already gone over this— I don’t know your name and until you can better enunciate your grunts, you’re going by Frankenstein.”

He stares at you blankly and you roll your eyes, shifting on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You know Frankenstein? Like the book? Mary Shelley? Judging by the pins on your jacket, you should have been alive way after the book was written, so either you’re being difficult or you just had really, really terrible taste in books, Frankie.”

He groans dreadfully again, dragging out his explicit disagreement for his new name. 

“Well, what do you want me to do? Guess names at random until I get it right? That would take forever, and it’s already past midnight because we had to spend three hours scrubbing dirt off of every inch of you. And bugs, Frankie, so many bugs!”

He rolls his eyes and you gasp— to be treated like this in your own home! 

“Frank—”

“Euggh!” he cuts you off.

“Euggh is not a very nice name but if that’s what you want to go by…,” you smile, watching him scowl his hardest yet. “Sweet, Euggh, I am so very tired and I have to wake up tomorrow morning to scrub the house clean from your mud. I am going to sleep. Goodnight. Again.”

You toss your comforter back over yourself and sink into your pillow. Not even a full second goes by before you hear the creaky shuffle of Euggh getting up.

“If I knew the undead operated on a different time zone I would have left you where I found you,” you say, shifting to get comfort. 

He grunts in response, short and abrasive, but you don’t take it to heart. You hear more shuffling, the drag of his bad foot, and the squeal of your desk drawer being pulled open. There’s about 12 seconds of silence before every noise you just heard happens in reverse.

“Hmmmmm,” he groans beside your bed, dragging out the low rasp of his voice. When you pretend to sleep he gets louder, even going as far as knocking the edge of the mattress. 

“Jesus, this can’t wait until morning?” you sigh, sitting up. You switch on your bedside lamp, blinking away the harsh light to look at your new, quickly-growing-annoying friend.

Not having looked at him in a while, his once wet hair has now dried, sticking up and frizzing out in all different directions, making him look more like Bride of Frankenstein than Frankenstein. You can’t help but snicker a giggle. His brows pinch together and once again, he’s back to scowling. 

“Lighten up, would ya?” you tease. “We can give your hair a good deep condition tomorrow, then it won’t be as frizzy. Who would have thought a century of grime would be drying for the hair follicle?”

“Errrgh,” he drags out, before shifting his balance and raising a hand towards you. In his pale, scrubbed clean fist is a paper, ruled lines ripped straight from your diary— classy.

“What’s this?” You sit up even further, crossing your legs in front of you as you take the paper from him. 

Flipping it around, you read the messy chicken scratch writing scribbled across the page in sparkly pink gel ink. 

“If you knew how to write, why didn’t you say something earlier, Eddie?”

[callsign-rogueone]

letters from samara - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x reader (Angel!) part of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 1.0k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS, part of my Garrick and Angel series, so read that first for context! no other warnings, just kinda soft and sad.

Someone drops a thick envelope onto the table in front of you. “From Samara. They said it was important.”

Samara. Brennan had told you that’s where Garrick and Xaden are. Your hands shake as you open the seal, but you relax at the familiar slant of Garrick’s handwriting. 

My angel,

I will start with what I know you’re most worried about: I am alive, I am safe, and so is X. He’s brooding in the corner of the room right now -- he’s not taking it well being apart from Vi, but command has allowed them visits every two weeks for Tairn and Sgaeyl’s sakes. 

We both miss you more than words can describe. I wish I could have said goodbye before we left, or that we could have taken you with us, but X wouldn’t hear arguments from anyone. I have never seen him that serious about anything before. 

I’m so sorry, angel. For all of it, everything. You didn’t deserve to be put through any of that, and I know how deeply it hurt you. It was terrifying to see you that way, so drained and cold. I can’t imagine what it felt like. 

Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, my love. You are the most kindhearted person I’ve ever known, and I love that about you, but you have to think of your own needs as well. You deserve peace and rest, especially now. Sleep in as long as you want, make time for your meditation. I’m sure the gardens would appreciate your attention as well; I swear you could make roses grow in dry sand as long as you smiled at them every day. 

I couldn’t bear to burn anything of yours, knowing that your heart still beats. I kept the things I thought to be most important to you and took them here with me. I will return them to you as soon as I can, but they are a comfort to me now — my room here feels like it did at Basgiath, with little touches of you scattered around. I keep watching the door, thinking that any moment you’ll come knocking to walk to class with me, or if I reach across the bed in the morning, you’ll be beside me again. I don’t know when I’ll see you next, but I know in my heart that I will. There is nothing and no-one that could keep me from you. 

Yours always,

G

On the sheet below, another.

Until I can lay by your side and tell you about my days, I’ll keep writing to you about them instead.

Being here feels like being a fresh cadet all over again, but different -- bottom of the food chain, getting the shifts nobody wants, but at least we don’t have to constantly prove our strength like we did in our first year at Basgiath, and we already have our dragons. 

One of Chradh’s relatives is here, which is cool. I think they’re cousins? They look damn near identical. I walked up to the wrong one on the flight line the other day -- thankfully the guy has a better sense of humor than Chradh, but I’m never making that mistake again.

Every rider here seemed to know exactly who we were when we arrived. Some of them have been more subtle with their distaste for us than others, but nobody’s been dumb enough to try anything -- probably because we look like we can fight, and because Sgaeyl is fucking terrifying, even more so now that she’s separated from Tairn. 

I just got off a 12-hour patrol shift, and I’m exhausted, but it’s hard to sleep without you here. I don’t think we’ve ever been apart this long in our lives. Being without either of you has never even felt like a possibility before; it’s always been us three together through the good and the bad. Someday it’ll be like that again, I know it will.

Brennan is the best mender I have ever known. If you choose, he can help you strengthen your ability, but please don’t push yourself too far. I need you to be in one piece when I get back. 

There are three more sheets underneath, one in Xaden’s rough script and two more from Garrick, the last dated four days ago -- likely the day he’d sent it. 

You realize what an incredible risk it was to write to you at all. It wouldn’t take a genius to put together that X is Xaden, that you’re hiding in Aretia, that you’d faked your death, or rather that your friends had faked it for you. How many hands did these pages pass through to reach you? How many others out there are on your side? 

You bring a hand up to cover your yawn, realizing how tired you are. The sun has gone down, a small mage light the only thing illuminating the corner of the study that you occupy. It’s likely nearing midnight.

“The letters and the books will still be there in the morning,” Tab says gently. “Sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

You look down at the torn piece of fabric you’ve been staring at for the last four hours. It has not yet sewn itself back together, no matter how hard you concentrated or “cleared your mind”, how gently you touched it. You’d even asked it nicely, but it did not dignify you with a response.

You set the letters aside for a moment, stacking up the books that you’d found in the house’s library about mending and placing them in a neat pile in the corner of the table you’ve been sitting at every evening for the last week. You fold the black cotton into quarters, setting it atop the pile -- you’ll try again tomorrow.

You can’t help but smile as you tuck the letters back into the envelope, brushing your fingers over the wax seal.

Garrick is right, this is the longest you’ve ever been apart, but as you gaze out the window into the starry sky, holding the letters he’d written you, the distance between you doesn’t seem that far.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Thoughts on Spy in Expiration Date:

————————————————————

I think Expiration Date actually gives us our first look into how badly Spy has messed up his relationships with the other mercs.

So in Expiration Date we actually see Spy putting himself out there when he tells Scout to collect everyone's dying wish. He WANTS to hear them. He’s expressing a desire to have this, (even if it’s seemingly a very small) connection with the other mercs, before they all end up dying. And even more so, he’s doing it to NO gain of his own. Like, this benefits him in NO way. He takes nothing away from learning everyone's dying wish, from making these connections, because he’s going to die the same day they do. So for ONCE, for one singular time, Spy is putting himself out there with these men he’s been growing a connection to. 

And immediately no one gives a shit. Because…why would they? 

Up to this point, what has Spy done to make them care about him? 

We can see that they don't like Spy, that much is like, perfectly clear. Scout has no respect for him, or at least, in front of the other mercs he makes it known that he’s willing to make Spy the butt of the joke. And the looks  the other mercs give him really don’t indicate that they WANT to be sitting around with Spy talking about their last wishes. They just seem…annoyed, unconvinced, bothered by whatever trick Spy is trying to pull, because what else are they supposed to assume from Spy? That he actually cares? When has he ever proved that he cares about his team, when has he ever made it known he enjoys their company or wants their friendship? Because it’s already vaguely implied that he hasn’t tried to form relationships with any of them (or I could possibly be insane and reading too far into things, who would have thought). And also, he has the persona of being a stuck up asshole. Which surely isn’t making him anymore popular with the others. 

But the sad part is that NOW, in his final days alive. When his world, and the world of the people he so DESPERATELY wants to be close to is ending, he reaches out. He reaches out and he lets himself test the waters of vulnerability, and it just doesn’t matter. It’s too late, and no one cares. 

Because it’s Spy.

And I think, I think that he sat in his smoking room before Scout eventually showed up, and had this moment of realization. This moment of clarity. Where he realized that it was genuinely too late. That he finally can’t run. He finally can’t pretend it doesn’t get to him. He’s finally reached the point where it’s too late to change. It’s too late to grow. And he pours himself a drink, lights a cigarette, and just sits there. Maybe he wonders about how the others will spend their last days. Maybe he thinks about how his deepest fears of dying alone are coming true before his very eyes and there's nothing he can do to stop it. And that, in the end, it's all his fault. 

————————————————————

Wrote this in the discord, then fleshed it out at a very chill and normal hour of 12:45 am. My apologies if this ends up making NO sense. Good morning and good night chat 😭

(Also also, this might eventually lead to a SpyDad Expiration Date breakdown post, who knows).

————————————————————

[bruh-anator3000]

A/n: I'm gonna do these in sections cause I'm really stressed rn but I wanna provide the goodies. Happy Halloween, stay safe and enjoy the fall! If you like the story, please comment and like for more!

Summary: Living with The Deadpool and The Wolverine isn't easy. It's even harder when rent is due, and a heist is the only way to pay it off. Balancing bills, love, and being the Black Cat isn't easy, but you manage... sometimes.

Warnings: cursing! Ambiguous as I could be with reader, but I am female and may have written it as a more fem!pov, sexual content hinted at, horny Wade, subtle Logan, Miguel soon to join, not proofread, the rhythm of crime is important to remember.

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson x Miguel O'Hara (yah-huh i said what I said)

Part 1. Enjoy!

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1, 2,

"Hello, bag please."

3, 4,

"Clear, next."

1, 2,

"Morning, bag please."

3, 4,

"All good, next."

1, 2,

"Hey, Steve, How's the family?"

3, 4,

"Pretty good! Becca and the kids..." Dammit.

1, 2,

"No way, that's great!" Move.

3, 4,

1-

"Why are we staring at them?"

"Dammit, Wade, let 'em think."

"Guys." You close your eyes, the rhythm has been disrupted. Wade was breathing down your neck, trying to understand what you were doing. Both Wade and Logan stood behind you with crossed arms. Like some sort of bodyguard boy band.

Eyes opening again, you find the line has moved on once more. Chatty John Doe finally left and the rhythm continued. A steady beat of four. "Hello, welcome." One, two, "Have a nice visit," Three, four.

"Your ass looks good in those," Wade mutters to Logan. Who slaps him upside the head.

"Guys." You grit, whipping around. Finding the grumpiest man alive to be - wait for it - scowling. Whereas Wade smiles boyishly, adjusting the cow printed bucket hat you lent him. It was from an... interesting phase of your life.

His thumbs slide under the frog-themed overall straps, laying them neatly on the black tee underneath. "You sure these are good disguises? I mean, it's not easy to hide..." He pauses for a moment, muscles of his brows tensing. Pushing through the unsaid thought, he smirks again. "All this." He gestures down himself.

Logan sniffed, sharing a look. So much unsaid, yet you two learned the trade of Wade. With a low sigh, the grump stepped up, helping the merc with his hat.

"You look fine." He gruffs and tugs the edge of it over his eyes. A rare moment of a smile earned from Wade's whine.

"You're right. It's impossible to hide perfection." You add on with a calm shrug. "We'll just have to hope it can dim it down for a couple of hours."

A genuine smile crosses his face for a moment. Then the cocky I-eat-cock smile is back on. "I know, I must make you both so very hard."

Logan whacks him again.

Reaching into your purse, you fish out two metal disks. Little red lights glimmering invitingly - and Wade snatches one. Making you grumble a sigh.

"These are to help direct the detectors." Logan waited, unlike his counterpart, with folded arms. Watching you explain carefully, nodding once. "You have a metal hip." Your fingers shoved into his waistband.

"I have more than that." His frown lines deepened while he eyed you shimmy your hand down his pants. The cold of the thin disk made his eyes narrow.

Turning to Wade, you found him trying to pull his overalls down.

"No." You took back your little disk, hiding it on his side. Right below his pectoral. "You get a metal rib."

"What?!" He fussed. "When will I feel your hand down MY pants?" You turn away as he pouts.

If each person took four beats, Wade needed to be further down. 6, maybe 7 people away since you and Logan would take up at least 12 counts to bargain with the safety officer. Only three lines. All of them equally as long and getting longer by the minute. You would take the second one. The man working there seemed fed up, he would most definitely deny Logan any sort of special treatment. The lady on the left seemed too caring, she would compliment Wade too much.

The older fella on the right. He took 1, 2, 3, 'have a nice day' - but he would probably have terrible memory. The line seemed shorter for that exact reason.

Wade links his arm with you while you work things out in your head. Laying his chin on your shoulder. At least he was quiet. That less than professional bucket hat nudging your temple.

"You're gonna be with the man over there," Your arm tightens around his, pointing to the kind old man. Who is currently fumbling with a lady's thick leather purse.

Before he can whine and kick and throw a fit, you wave Logan closer. "We're going to the middle - Mister Meanie over there."

Wade pulls back, slack in the jaw. "You're partnering with him? Not me?" He gasped in horror. "What does this fossil have that I don't?!"

"An entire skeleton made of metal." You remained unphased. Logan cracked a quiet smirk.

"Oh, boo hoo." He scoffed, walking away. "No one cares for Deadpool, as usual."

Logan beats you to it, catching Wade's arm before he could storm off and weep. His grip on his bicep firm. But no words leave him. He looked to you for help.

"It'll be over quick." You tried to reassure. "Wait behind 6 people, two more than Logan and I. Then, we'll meet right back up after the alarms go off. Promise."

He continued to pout, but took your word. Easing into a giddy grin when you blew him a kiss, yanking Logan to the center line.

"Do I get one of those?" The living fossil muttered. Barely enough to be heard.

"What?"

"Nothin'." He shook his head instead. Standing by your side in that ridiculous 'scary dog' stance. Legs parted and arms crossed. Glaring ahead. You began to count.

1, 2,

"Welcome."

3, 4,

"Clear, next."

Glancing to Wade, you spot him fidgeting. Shifting from foot to foot, and frequently looking your way. "You sure this'll work?" Logan broke your focus.

"I've tried it before." His brow arched. "Accidentally. But it happened."

"You know another man of metal?" His brows settled heavily over his eyes.

"No, I forgot to take off my chain necklaces at the same time a lady walked through with a hydro flask." You awkwardly looked away. "It was interesting."

He huffed and his shoulders eased. "Sounds like it."

The line was moving as expected. No chatty Jane, or sluggish John. Wade was watching with twitching fingers. Panic building as you and Logan reached the front of the line before him. Mouth dry as he felt like he was messing up the plan. Could cut through, he decided. Ready to push through the toddle and mother in front of him.

"Pardon me," The ugliest country accent you can manage. Wade's eyes widen at the sound, and you can feel Logan cringe in shame behind you. "My uncle 'ere from the war, wit da metal hip, he ain't got his card. Doctor said he ain't gettin' his new one til next week."

Logan feels a physical repulsion towards the security guard who takes a long glance at you. Resisting a snarl as the guard shared a look with his co-worker. The two of them sharing a smile.

"Not happening, sweetheart." Oh, he wanted to bash the mall cop's head. Yet you smiled, it was exactly as you wanted.

Sparing a glance to Wade, he was almost in sync. "C'mon, officer, I ain't trying to be naughty." You bat your lashes and pout your lips.

Wade stepped up to the metal detector. "No. Step through." He waves Logan through.

The perfect symphony to your crime creating ears; every alarm goes off. The one your man of metal went through shut down completely. Wade shrieked over and over again. The third one feeling pressured to join in the circuit screaming. Throwing everyone into the perfect panic.

You sighed in peace, watching as more security ran out. Beckoning three people from each row over and lining you all up against the nearest wall. Logan took to your left, and Wade bounced on your right. He tried for your hand, but you refused, an officer running a handheld scanner over you all.

It beeped when it sensed the disk on Wade. "Metal rib, from a motorcycle crash." He smiled, repeating the rehearsed line. "Damn... Vietnam." Left Logan in a weak accent as the detector chirped over his hip. Another lady failed to disclose the piercing in her ear, funnily enough.

Once the hubbub was over, and the guards adapted to scanning by the small held gadgets, you met up with your boys.

"Jesus, what was that?" Logan followed behind. Earning a confused look.

"What was what?" You fixed the way your shirt fit.

"That accent." He grumbled. "I needed to prepare for that."

You snicker. "I said you wouldn't have to talk much." Logan shook his head, hands deep in his leather over flannel jacket pockets.

Wade had already run ahead of you. Wanting to touch and grope anything he could get his hands on. Thinking of what else he would want to steal. Only interrupted when you had to stop him from opening a case with several old time-y guns.

"No! No, look!" He fought back, wiggling out of your hold and prodding at the glass harshly. "It's Logan's!"

You halted. Intrigued and leaning in, you find a musket beside a short story of the 'heroic James L.H.' You snorted so hard, Logan had to figure out what was going on.

"Is that yours?" You cover your mouth. He's quick to growl no. But he's leaning in now.

"Shit." He murmurs. Wade slapping your shoulder from how hard he's been laughing in silence. Your hands firmly placed over your mouth as Logan mumbles to himself, reading and re-reading the story. "Is it?"

You're getting weird stares. You can feel the eyes of a Karen and her child glare through the back of your head. But you and Wade can't stand upright without help, wheezing and hitting each other while Logan comes to terms with being that old.

"That's fuckin' mine?" He swears, trying to open the case to get a better look. Only stopping when you take his hand and lead him away. Shaking your head. "That's... is that my property?"

Wade chortles, snorting from laughing so hard. Hands on his knees as another round of giggles overtook him. The old man grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him along.

"Enough of that, you're gonna attract attention." He grumbles, scratching his sideburns.

"I want your attention." Wade argues, biting his lip. Satisfied when he earns a huff. You meant to add on. Shove it in Logan's face about being the oldest man alive.

When the most obnoxious sound hit your ears.

All three of you halt in your tracks. The lighting of the museum is dimmed in this section as The Avengers theme song played throughout the exhibition. Your face to face with Iron Man's first iron suit.

Logan breaks the silence first. "Fuckin' hell." His fists tightening. A vein in his arm throbbing. Attractive, but scary. He was ready to punch the glass.

You glanced over the exhibit, but there was no way around this. Not to get where you wanted.

"It's fine." A promise you don't even believe. It's not like looking at all these people, hearing their theme, and seeing all the things they've accomplished as humans makes you feel weak.

You weren't any different. You were an incredible human turned vigilante, too! They had suits to do good. You didn't need armor, or super serum, or a germ to make you strong. They were weak. Even if they did have a whole exhibit for them.

They didn't get to steal things, so...

You halt in front of the portrait of Natasha Romanov. A woman with no special suit or powers, a victim of the Red Room. Once considered nothing but a tool, fought her way to the top to run with the best heroes in the world. With nothing but stealth and strength. Coming from nothing to rise to greatness.

Where you, who comes from nothing, stayed there. Embraced it. Became the best thief in the world. But... was that anything worthwhile? Seeing all what you could become, knowing you stayed where you were. Staring in the face of everything you wanted to be. Someone who meant something.

"Hey, it's you this time!" Wade called out again. While Logan was having a staring contest with the mannequin of Captain America, the merc pulled you over to show you Spider-Man's display.

But hey, you knew who Spider-Man was. And you had slept with him. Several times. How many Avengers could say that?

"Look." He points, in his frog-themed overalls and ridiculous cow bucket hat. Smiling widely as you lean in. It was you.

An article from the Daily Bugle framed beside one of Miguel's first spider suits. It was the ugliest iteration of his persona. Bright red and blue, big white eyes. Not fancy like his new technological one.

The article held a photo of a silhouetted stunning figure leaping across rooftops with a bag of cash. 'Can Spider-Man catch this Cat?' One of your first heists ever recorded. And J. Jonah Jameson used the fact that the anonymous Spider-Man couldn't catch you to his advantage. The whole article dragging the man and his skills for about three paragraphs.

"That's a great angle." You turn your head aside to snicker as Wade whistles. His hand on your back as he leans in. "Really adds to the mysterious aura you have."

"I don't think that's actually me." You break his bubble with a chuckle. "I never let people get photos of me on the job."

"Maybe not now, but I know that ass better than my own." He hits his finger on the glass, above the article. "Logan can confirm."

Logan grunts. You hadn't realized he joined the two of you until now. Side eyeing him.

"Was that a yes?" You stand upright. Logan shrugs. Your jaw drops a little, and you want to make fun of him.

Except you don't have time to when Logan reacts faster than a bullet. Scooping you and Wade in his arms and dodging under a less dangerous, less glass filled exhibit when the roof comes caving in. Screaming fills your ears but it's flooded by familiar curses in Spanish.

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

Thank you for reader! And remember, Logan and Wade think readers who comment and reblog are sexy and deserve a million kisses!

Taglist: @laysmt @luckysimp @bontensbabygirl @czareena @ghost-lantern

[mayiwritesomething]

Love Is An Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 6)

Wordcount: 1,3 k

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

A/N: not much to say, just the two enjoying each other and being a bit vulnerable.

Warnings: +18, sex, oral sex (not explicit but it’s there), some curse words.

PART FIVE

—

Stay

After pleasing him once more, you climbed back to face him with a naughty smile, his fingers tracing your back as he gazed at you with a smile of his own. Cupping your face with one hand, he pulled you closer for a kiss.

"I hate you," you playfully muttered between kisses.

"I know..." he replied, planting soft kisses on your neck and chin as he adjusted your position on top of him, so he could be inside. As you tried to remain quiet, he reassured you, "Babe, you don't need to worry about that. It's okay to make some noise."

"Not… fuck— not at 12 pm, though—right?" you expressed surprise at his unconcern. "What…will… ah… people think?"

"The same thing they thought if they heard anything at night," he chuckled. "You didn't seem to care about that a few hours ago."

"Jesus! How in the hell can someone be so annoying?" you attempted to wriggle free from his embrace, but he held you tighter. Your hips moved involuntarily as he tried to kiss you. "No," you resisted, pushing him back to lie down.

"Look at her, she’s angry," he teased, complying with your command.

"You've never seen me angry, baby," you bantered, drawing close to him but refraining from kissing. Close enough for him to feel your heavy breathing as his hands were now holding your hips tightly. You held his arms as hard as you could. He couldn’t hold his moan this time, you loved to see this scene.

"This… is torture, you know," he remarked, eyes fixed on your lips, his pace quickening as you tried to slow down yours.

"Well, you can get your revenge another day," you chuckled, giving him a gentle but swift kiss, than humming aftferwards. "Now we have an excuse to… meet again—fuck—my room this time." He loved to watch you trying to hold yourself back.

"Sounds like a plan to me," he agreed, pulling you closer. "Can I keep going like this?" he asked tentatively as you felt him going a bit faster. You nodded moaning in confirmation, no longer resisting, you wanted to reach your climax as much as him. So you both kept going until the so awaited moment. It felt you both ran a marathon.

You typically avoided sleepovers, always leaving after getting what you wanted with the excuse of work the next day. This time, however, you felt a strange desire to stay, and apparently, he felt the same. The companionship, conversations, bad jokes, shared shower, and talks of the future all hinted at a deeper connection between you. Pretending not to be scared, you both acknowledged the ticking clock as it struck 2 PM.

"I should head back to my room," you said, searching for your phone.

"Let me order us some food first?" he suggested, hinting that he didn't want you to leave.

"Okay," you agreed, hinting that you also wanted to stay as he picked the hotel’s intercom. When you found your phone, you were bombarded with notifications.

A message from Amy: Are you alive?

Another from Timmy: Had a great night, huh?

Jenny: Did you just have a sleepover? 😱 I went to your room, where the hell are you?

Maria: Save a horse! You know what to do 😈 xx

You chuckled and opened the group chat, finding over 50 messages. Some were from the girls expressing concern as there was no sign of you, while others shared details from Jenny’s night. One message in particular made you burst out laughing: Maria's, which read, "Of course she won't answer us, she's probably riding the guy right now."

"Are your friends curious too?," Pedro observed as he hugged you from behind, catching you off guard as he felt your muscles thightening. "Sorry... I should have warned you beforehand, right?" he worriedly apologized.

"I'll get used to it," you shyly replied. "After all, I am a hedgehog," you joked.

"It's all an act, I know," he teased, trailing kisses along your neck and holding you tightly. "…Last night, you were quite physical," he reminded you playfully.

"Last night, you were quite physical," you retorted him, pretending to try to escape his embrace. “Fuck you”

"Did I lie? It'll be hard to forget that entrance...” you just hummed in response, “I still have to work tomorrow, baby, you’re the one who’s got a free week," he reminded you, kissing you softly.

“Finally, don't you think?" you retorted, stepping out of his embrace. "Unlike actors, our job extends waaaay beyond the filming hours. And we are paid much less by the way, if you didn’t know that" you added frustrated, a hint of anger in your voice.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to belittle it," he realized his mistake, seeing you now with crossed arms and a stern expression.

"Think twice next time, asshole," you scolded him, sounding annoyed.

"I know it was a dumb comment, sorry," he apologized, coming to hug you.

"Yes it was…," you acknowledged as you allowed him to embrace you. "But I'll forgive you this time."

"Thanks," he said, gazing at you and holding your chin. "Have I ever told you how fucking amazing you are?" Your cheeks flushed as he spoke.

“A few times my friend" You held his face and you kissed him slowly.

His phone started vibrating on the table, but he didn't let go of you as he reached for it. While he answered the call, you continued to run your fingers along his neck, feeling his skin as he now was tracing your back with his index finger.

"Yes, she's here," he spoke into the phone, and you couldn't help but freeze at your mention, you stepped back.

“Who's that?" you asked, shocked, but he gestured for you to wait.

As he covered the phone's speaker, he turned to you and asked, "Babe, did you have a flight today?" The realization hit you like a ton of bricks - you had completely forgotten about your flight to LA, a short trip to your home that you had been looking forward to. "Oh my god," you muttered, laughing at your own forgetfulness. "Fuck… I did... at like 11 am," you added with a chuckle.

Returning to his call, he explained the situation to Jennifer. "Yeah, I'll tell her to drop by. Thanks, Jen. Bye. See you," he concluded the call, turning back to you with a sheepish look.

"I guess I'll have to book another flight," you said, trying to lighten the mood with a laugh.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"For what?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"Making you stay, causing you to miss your flight."

"I wanted to stay," you admitted, surprising both yourself and him. "I want to stay."

"I want you to stay," he confessed, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity.

"So staying is what I will do," you declared with a smile, feeling a sense of peace in your decision.

"Great," he said, pulling you closer in a reassuring embrace.

"I'm hungry," you mentioned, shifting the conversation to a lighter topic. "Did they give you an estimate for when the food will arrive?"

"30 to 40 minutes until we can eat," he replied. "But there's something else I'd like to enjoy before the main course arrives." He added, you felt the filthyness on his tone.

"I thought I was the main course! How dare you?" you teased, feigning offense.

"You are the appetizer, main course and dessert baby," he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he guided you to the bed.

"We still have some time," you remarked staring at the clock, playing with his hair as he showered your skin with kisses, gradually undressing you. "You can have your appetizer" you smiled.

"Thank you baby," he murmured, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he focused on pleasuring you, his name falling from your lips in ecstasy as he devoted himself to your pleasure.

Don’t give a fuck about a flight. This is way better than going to LA.

“Don't—Don't you go

Won't you stay with me one more day?

If we get through one more night

If we get through one more night”

[positivexcellence]

Interview: Jared Padalecki on the ‘Walker’ Finale, What He Learned as an Executive Producer, and More

We got the chance to talk to Jared all about the Walker finale, what it was like being buried in episode 12, what he’s learned as a producer, and more.

Nerds & Beyond: Episode 11 was one of my favorite episodes, it was just incredible. What was it like having Genevieve [Padalecki] and Matt [Barr] back for that episode? Can you talk more about it?

Jared Padalecki: I mean, selfishly as Jared, I was thrilled to have Matt back. I adore Matt Barr, I love him with all my heart. It was so great to have him in Austin. Again, selfishly as Jared, I was happy to have Gen there and we brought our kids to set and they got to hold the markers and clap us onto a scene, which was really awesome.

Then selfishly as Cordell Walker, or as an actor, I got to do some weird, cool stuff that not a lot of projects give you the opportunity to explore. Damn, I mean, I’m kind of feeling this way right now… if I could go back and redo it… like if this never happened, how would I do it? How would I feel? What would it be? Would it be closure? Would it be even worse? Would it be just a further tease? There were a lot of storylines that I got to tell within that one episode. I felt really grateful for Anna [Fricke] and for our run on TV to be able to do. So, all around, I was just really excited to go play in that playground.

Nerds & Beyond: Then in episode 12, we see Cordell get saved by the team after being buried alive. What was that process like?

Jared: You know what’s funny, is that on Walker, I’ve done a lot of great, fun, kind of random or strange stunt sequences, like driving a truck full speed up a parking garage, and being in fight sequences in strange areas. There have always been these things like racing horses with Dave Annable around the barn… there have been times where it’s like, “Okay, well, there’s probably some danger here,” and they’re gonna come and say like, “Hey, do you feel comfortable? We’re gonna be here. Just say if it doesn’t work for you.”

That scene specifically was probably the most they’ve ever come up to me and been like, “Hey, sorry, we’ll have a straw for you. You can breathe. We’ll do this, we’ll do that.” They were really concerned. I am not claustrophobic, thank God. So, I didn’t have some of the concerns that a lot of the other producers, stunt coordinators, and safety coordinators did. I was like, “This kind of sounds cool, this is gonna look fucking cool.”

I actually talked to [Jensen] Ackles, because he had done “Lazarus Rising”, the premiere of season four [of Supernatural], where he was buried in a similar situation, and got his two cents on it. And I was like, “I’m kind of excited.” To have an episode like 411, you can’t just all of a sudden [go], “Oh, Cordell is back, here we go.” There needs to be some drama. There needs to be some cool stuff. It was one of the few things that I don’t think I’ve ever done before. I’ve done plenty of stuff in my career, but I don’t think I’ve been buried alive. And so I was like, “Cool, let’s go ahead and get this Boy Scouts badge.”

For the buried alive part, they dug a grave and they first buried me up to my shoulders. Coby [Bell] was having some back issues, he had been on a flight and he had just kind of tweaked his back. We’re like, “Well, Jeff Pierre’s here, so guess what, Jeff? You’re carrying Padalecki.” I’m 205-210 pounds, and that’s not an easy way to pull somebody out of a grave, there’s no leverage. But Jeff Pierre is a king among men. And, he’s like, “Alright, I got him.” So between Jeff and Coby, they lifted me out and wiped the dirt and blood off my face. That was exciting.

What I enjoyed less, was spending all day in that makeup because then we had the sequence where Captain James walked Cordell over to Cassie and Trey, and so I kinda just stayed in that makeup and outfit for twelve hours. The actual doing of the acting was amazing, but trying to go to lunch with all that stuff on your face… you don’t want to wash it off, it’ll take an hour back on. So it’s just sort of like, I want to scratch my face, I’m sweaty and hot and nasty. But all in all, I knew it was gonna be something that, until the day I die, I’ll be proud to have been a part of. So, you kind of grin and bear it.

Nerds & Beyond: That sounds intense, though!

Jared: It was yeah, it was, in a great way. It looked intense.

Nerds & Beyond: When you got the official call that Walker would no longer continue, what was that call like?

Jared: I did have some version of a heads up, but it still was like we didn’t believe it or understand it. The heads up was obvious when they put out their upfront list of shows they were intending for the ’24-’25 season, and we weren’t listed. You didn’t have to be a producer on the show to go like, “Well, this is strange.” There were obvious hints and clues both publicly and privately that kind of leaned toward, “This doesn’t look good.”

But the strange thing is that’s been my life, that’s been my career. Gilmore Girls was on the bubble for many years. Supernatural was on the bubble for many years. And the season three, season four, kind of world that TV shows live on, it’s like, well, if you do five or six, you can probably do twenty-five or twenty-six. But you’ve got to get to five or six. We all just kind of were like, “Well, let’s look at the numbers.” And, the show would air, it would be the most watched show on CW, and we’d be like, “Okay, cool. Brad Schwartz said if the performance maintained, then we’re gonna go again. Well, we’re maintaining, we’re still the most-watched show on the network.” We were worried privately, but then we were like, “Well, shoot, we’re fulfilling our obligation. Why would they possibly not pick us up?”

It’s really funny, I find myself talking about the show [and] I’m having a tough time saying canceled. I’m kind of saying, just, we weren’t picked up for season five, which I guess is one and the same. I’m finding it a bit easier to just say we weren’t picked up instead of saying we were canceled. Just semantics.

I didn’t find out officially until probably an hour before I made that post. So, I legit didn’t know officially until… I’ve learned in this industry until it’s official, it’s not official. We always joke as actors, It’s like, you get a job, and they’re like, “Well, how do you feel? Are you excited?” You’re like, “Well, yeah… I’ll be excited when I get my first paycheck.” When they aired me on television, I was the third or fourth Dean on Gilmore Girls. So, you shoot the show, you get your paycheck and then they recast and they shoot again, they get their paycheck, then they recast again, you get your paycheck. So you never really know, you kind of live in this limbo of like, “Well, is it gonna air? Am I going to be on more?” I finished the episode and I got the paycheck, but it hasn’t aired yet, so they can still recast me. It happens more often than I think people realize.

I maintained hope and to this day, sitting at the Side Step with John Patterson today, I still have this weird hope in my head. Like you know Wednesday [the day of the finale] is gonna happen, and they’re gonna realize how amazing the show is, how little they pay for it, and how high the quality is, and they’re gonna come to their senses. The way my day worked out, I think it was May 22 or 21, whatever that day was I made that post, I got a call from David Stapf at CBS and he gave it to me straight. He’s like, “Hey, man. Here’s the deal. Walker’s not gonna go season five.” I was sort of like, “Okay, thank you for calling me.” By the way, somebody like David Stapf doesn’t need to call me, his assistant can call me, he can send me an email, they can post it on his own through CBS channels. But he gave me the quality character move to go, like, “I want to call Jared. I don’t want it to be announced until I talk to Jared and ask him how he wants to announce it.” Then he said to me, “Hey, if you want to talk to Brad, he’d love to talk to you as well.” I was like, “Okay, of course. Yeah.” Brad and I have worked together for a year, and, you know, I was still super confused. I’m super confused now. So I was sort of like, “Okay, I don’t know what to say. My head’s kind of spinning, I leave in three days for Europe for a month. But yeah, I’ll absolutely talk to Brad.” So then David and I hung up, and it was a great conversation. I mean, he was very flattering of the show and the family we have and sort of himself seemingly kind of confused about the way it was all going down and the linear TV world that we live in. But he was like, “This is where we kind of sit,” and I just was extremely grateful for the conversation.

I called Brad and Brad kind of said the same. Brad reiterated, “Hey, dude, you know, you’ve been on CW since its inception. We’ll follow your lead here. Do you want to announce it yourself? Do you want us to announce it? Do you want to avoid it entirely, or do you want to be a part of it? We’ll go with your gut.” And my gut was, I have a great relationship with the fandom, to use a generic term, and I was like, “I actually would love to be the one that kind of says it.” So they obliged and I scrambled together a quick post, just being as honest as possible, and sent it out there. There was zero time between finding out and announcing it. It took me half an hour or whatever to try and figure out how to try and communicate how grateful I was, and how much love I had for everybody before sending it out, but it was a quick turnaround.

Nerds & Beyond: The finale has moments that seemed to leave the characters in a good space. Was that a conscious choice to sort of wrap things up on the off chance there wouldn’t be another season?

Jared: 100%. We talked, because at the time when we were shooting 12-13 which we cross-boarded, we didn’t know if we were picked up or not. We kind of assumed we were judging by the numbers and what we had heard from the network prior about if the numbers remained, and they did. It didn’t feel like it was something you could appropriately wrap up in an episode anyway. Like, we didn’t want to deliver a bad episode just for the sake of ‘wrapping up a storyline’. So I think what we wanted, not just if there would have been seasons five through fifteen, but if there would have been season four and done, was this idea that all the characters still had hope. I mean, it’s difficult to wrap up a TV show, right? You can do the whole they’re at a diner or you can do the whole ‘everybody dies’, but neither felt appropriate for Walker and the cast of characters. So, we kind of talked about what is something that if we end here, we’re happy with, but if we carry on, it’s seamless to go forward. And everybody, every character has something that we want to watch. So we left it there and there were back and forths. There were conversations, obviously, but ultimately, it came down to every character has something in their life that they can look forward to. They also have problems and that’s life, you have problems and you have opportunities, but I’m very happy with the finale.

Nerds & Beyond: How do you feel about Cordell’s decision to take a leave of absence and take his family on vacation?

Jared: I think it’s been a long time coming. I think it’s a great statement on mental health and work-life balance, and it’s something that I’m kind of in the process of thinking about myself right now. Twenty-four years in the industry and nineteen years as number one on the call sheet, it takes a lot out of you and you sacrifice time with your kids, with your spouse, with your friends, with yourself. And I think it can at times not only be beneficial, but it can be necessary. So, I was proud of Cordell for making that decision, and I was excited to see how he came back after he had some time, but that’ll live in our imaginations, I suppose.

Nerds & Beyond: Cordell has made such incredible character growth from the first season to now. What has been your favorite part of getting to play him over the last four seasons?

Jared: What I really loved about Walker, and Cordell specifically, is that we got to see somebody who was flawed and who made mistakes and was humble, who tried. Sometimes he was a little slow to learn, but ultimately he tried to learn, he was eager to learn, eager to humble himself and be humbled around people he loved and trusted. So, that was a good reminder in my own personal life of like, “Hey, when someone says something a thousand times, maybe just listen, give it a shot. Why not?” You know, life happens… and it’s about what to do, what we can do better, what others can do better, how to ask, how to accept help. And so Walker remained as open-minded as a flawed human being could remain. I really appreciated that.

Nerds & Beyond: Do you have a favorite memory or moment from this last season?

Jared: Gen and I, during the ceremony/funeral scene in 411, had our kids there. Just the way it worked out, they hadn’t been able to be there a lot even though ironically, it was shot in Austin. But we shoot during the school year so they’re in school, or even season one, it was the COVID protocol. So if you weren’t vaccinated and didn’t have a mask in season one, it would have been that they’re twenty feet away in a mask, swabs up their nose, and wouldn’t have been a great experience anyways. So by the time 411 came and Anna [Fricke] was there directing and you know, she created the characters in the show, that was really special.

I think the speech that Cordell gives at August’s graduation was one of those moments… we’re at Storm Ranch, hadn’t been there all season, and the majority of the cast was there, and we got to hang out and laugh. It was this beautiful night in Austin, Texas. It was just one of those feelings… I had that feeling every time we shot a dinner table scene or breakfast scene where when we got everybody on set… it was just a great time and we did work I’m really proud of. It was just great to see everybody’s face and everyone working together cohesively, so I think those two, just offhand, stuck out to me the most.

Nerds & Beyond: After the news of the cancellation, were you able to take anything from the set?

Jared: Yeah, I took some of the clothes that meant something to me and a four-season show, several changes a day, there were racks and racks and racks of clothing. I went back to certain things that really are kind of like hallmarks for me. I have Duke’s outfit, I have his Texas Rangers hat, I have that blue suit I wore with Twyla, I have a few things that really just meant a lot to me wardrobe-wise. I have my boots, I have a couple of cowboy hats, and set-wise I have the Texas mug from the Side Step and I grabbed the pool cue from the Side Step. I was laughing, in season one or two, I brought my own pool cue from home to use in the show, and then I think I went home and forgot that I’d taken it, so I was like, “I donated one so now I’m just taking it back.” I have a few little knickknacks that are special to me. One of the things that I received as a gift was my Ranger belt. I wore it all the time and it was both the bane of my existence because they’re not super comfortable, but also just something really special. That will sit on my desk in my office forever. I also have my Ranger parking Cordell Walker little emblem that I’ll put somewhere in my garage.

Nerds & Beyond: Walker was your first Executive Producer gig. Is that something you want to continue with further?

Jared: That’s kind of all I’m interested in. Acting is fun and can be fun at times, but I love the nuts and bolts of it, of trying to figure out several characters, how it all works together, how it all affects each other. I would happily just EP forever. I think acting is a bit more of a commitment. Again, I don’t not enjoy it. It’s fun, I love it, but I like exploring scenes. I love trying to go through different iterations of characters or their motivations, figuring out why they would make the decisions they make.

I would love to keep developing. You know, if a role comes up that makes sense, and it’s exciting or it’s somebody I want to work with, or a project I’m excited about, or a director I’ve never worked with that I want to then, yeah, call me up and I’ll see if Gen doesn’t mind watching the kids for a couple of weeks, or a couple months. But in the meantime, I like reading a book more than telling people what book I read, if that makes sense.

Nerds & Beyond: Everyone I’ve talked to about Walker has said that it has an exceptional set atmosphere. A lot of people attribute that atmosphere to you, as well. Why was it so important to foster that kind of environment where there’s a real work-life balance?

Jared: That’s the intense loss I feel. As much as I love Walker, the character, and Walker, the show, I feel a deep loss about what happened that didn’t make it to a television screen. The relationships that were built and fostered, the work atmosphere… I think over many years and almost 500 episodes of television, I’ve seen firsthand how a toxic atmosphere doesn’t save time. The more you yell, the more you gripe and bitch, and blame doesn’t mean that you’re gonna go faster and higher quality. Set people up for success, and hopefully, they set you up for success also. And then all of a sudden a day that could be twelve hours is nine hours. Like, “Wow… I’m home three hours earlier.”

I certainly cannot take credit for it. I mean, I’m sure I had a heavy vote in that arena. Kim Manners said something to Jensen Ackles and me many, many years ago. I think it was season one. In a True Kim Manners attitude, it was something like, pardon my French, “I spend more time with you fuckers than I do my wife, my kids, our dog, and my home. So if I’m not having a good time, why the fuck would I be here?” And it just made sense. No one’s holding a gun to our head telling us, “Hey, you better go act.” So if you’re not having a good time, then, “Hey, go find something and I wish you well. And if I’m not having a good time, then what am I doing here?” So I think we all reached that place on Walker.

I loved the Supernatural set, and I love it to this day and I hope we get to see each other again. The Walker set was just even more of a family. We’re all at home, we all went through horrible, horrible situations as far as people getting sick or in car accidents or pandemics or strikes, and everybody just felt like family.

Nerds & Beyond: You can tell just how much of a close-knit family you all were, so I can’t imagine how hard that loss is. I know it just finished airing and you’re not that far removed from it yet, but looking back, what are you going to take away from your experience on Walker?

Jared: It can be done. I think that’s going to be a message that sticks with me in all aspects of my life, til the day I die. It can be done. Surround yourself with good people and positivity. When you start thinking about like, “Oh, I’ll never be able to do this. Oh, this will never happen.” Walker was proof that it can be done. When you allow yourself to… I’d rather trust and have my heart broken than never trust and never fall in love. I trusted Walker and I fell in love and it was gone too soon. And it will be, to quote Jeff Buckley, “the tear that hangs inside my soul forever.” But, it can be done and it reignited my belief in people and storytelling. Best idea wins. Be honest and be humble. So to your point, I’m still fresh off and I haven’t yet really swallowed all my feelings and emotions enough to digest them, but just thrilled that we proved it could be done. And we’ll always know it.

Nerds & Beyond: Be proud of it, for sure. I love that there’s been a theme in the last few episodes about not being sad that it’s over, being glad that it happened.

Jared: Yeah. I’ll take that as well.

Nerds & Beyond: Fans have built an incredible community within the Walker family. Is there anything you’d love to say to them?

Jared: So many things I’d love to say. First and foremost, thanks for the trust. Thanks for the passion. I know that when Supernatural ended a lot of our Supernatural family trusted enough to kind of come give Walker a try. I feel like maybe after Supernatural ended many probably felt that it was gone too soon, but they trusted that life went on and came over and it’s really special. That’s where I find myself right now.

And so seeing their example, I’m just grateful. I’m just a guy who happens to act, and it’s an honor when someone’s interested in what you do creatively. Thank you, now and always.

Nerds and Beyond

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 12 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Summary : An indecent phone conversation with Loki makes you late for your meeting with Strange.

Warning: 18+, slight dirty talk, mention of sex, mention of psychological torture, angst, insecurities, self deprecating behaviour,

"God I'd never get enough of you" she whispered as her lips lingered over his mouth for a moment before she kissed him passionately.

"I'd never want that either sweetheart " he looked down at her, he can try all the positions in the world with her but this right here was his favorite of all, her body underneath him and her eyes staring back at him with such love and adoration.

"Loo" she mumbled softly so he snapped out of his thoughts and leaned down to kiss her before he hummed "I'm scared"

"I know princess, so am I, but I have to do this, I can not lose you, I can't take such a risk" she nodded but he could still see the saddened look on her face.

"What if something happens and we aren't at the right place at the right time? What would happen to us then?" Her eyes welled up so he cupped her cheeks and kissed her before he smiled.

"My love, no matter where in the world we are, eventually we will cross each other's path in one way or another and we will do so when our timing is aligned perfectly, a moment so absolute where we would be eager and desperate to fall so deeply in love with each other..just like this, you were made for me darling and I'll find you anywhere, anytime..i promise "

He woke up with head pounding and heart beating so fast, after the training session with the Captain he had fallen asleep, more than the training itself it was the conversation they both had that had tired him out. He couldn't stop asking him about some man named Bucky and how he knew that this Bucky was alive because apparently that's what his doppleganger has said to him to distract him in the fight after the battle of New York.

He was still under the false assumption that Loki was the one to morph into him even though he had clarified it a million times, he probably shouldn't have done the same to make fun of him when he was handcuffed after they had defeated him, that's probably why Rogers was adamant on this theory.

And Now this strange dream he just had was worrying him. He have had plenty of dreams about you in the past but this one felt different, he knew he saw you but you seemed a little different, just a bit aged than you do now, not much though. It didn't even feel like he was in this dream, he felt as if he was watching two people he didn't even know. However he did recognise the shared love between them, their emotions mirrored how you two felt about each other.

Perhaps he was overthinking, he knew Thanos was looking to assemble all the infinity stones and since the day when he had escaped with the tesseract things have been different. He wondered what would have happened if Stark hadn't dropped the briefcase holding the tesseract that fine day, Thor was taking him back to Asgard, the course of his life would have been entirely different if it wasn't for him picking up the cube. He felt overwhelmed and only one person could have made him feel better so he sat up and picked up the telephone to ring you.

He dialed your number and it didn't even ring twice before you picked it up

"Hey handsome" you giggled and the sound of your voice made him smile,

"Princess, i want to apologise if I am being a nuisance while you are on the job"

"No no ..not at all, I got off early, have to see the guy remember?" Oh yes. The healer.

"How could I ever forget?"

"I'm almost ready lo, will leave in a few"

"Oh apologies darling, I wouldn't want you to be late for the meeting "

You sat down on the bed as he said that.

"Maybe I want to be late, I'm not going to see you for hours, let me just talk to you baby" he smiled at the comment.

"Okay we can talk my sweetheart, what are you wearing?" you gasped as he said that and it took him a second to realize how his words were being interpreted.

"God you're a naughty boy..it's barely two in the afternoon" you mumbled and he was grateful you weren't there to see the effect you had on him. He was a god, where was the will power and self resistance? How come you were able to break him so easily?

"No no I just mean in general, I just wanted to have an image of you in my head, that is all" he mumbled nervously

"Mmmm I'll tell you if you tell me what you are wearing"

"Well I …uhhh .." he just had a satin sheet to cover his modesty, when alone he enjoyed sleeping naked. Clothes always made him feel hot and not in a good way.

"Oh my god you're naked aren't you? " he squeezed his eyes as you said that "Oh that's a lovely image.. I can picture it you know, your tall athletic naked body on the bed, aren't you the perfect sight for my sore eyes?" Why were you doing this to him?

"Now who's the naughty one here?"

"You look so pretty lo, kinda want to be there and see you like that" his eyes filled with lust as you said that. Now he was wishing you were there to watch him while he gets himself off for you.

"Shhhhh before this escalates further"

"You don't want this to escalate, pretty baby?" He took a deep breath as you said that.

"Darling please"

"Please continue or please stop?"

"Norns..both ..I want both"

"Mmmhm I wonder what you'd do to me if you were here" your voice turned sultry as you spoke.

"You really wish for me to tell you?" He asked you so you smiled.

"Mmmhmmm please loki.. please tell me" he chuckled at the response. If you wanted to play he'd play with you.

"You sound so sweet right now princess, are you always like this when you're being dominated?" Your face flushed to the max as he said that, you could feel your ears getting hot at the sudden change in his tone. He really was a god.

"Ummm dominated?" You gulped

"Uhuhh have you never been controlled? Never been told what to do in bed? Never been subjugated or ruled over by a man much more powerful than you?" He asked you, you could sense the mischief reeking but at the same time his voice remained deep and husky, it melted in your ears and it made you feel as if he was hypnotizing you. Maybe he was hypnotizing you.

"Lokiiiii stahhhhp" you whispered buy your voice came out all whiny.

"You want me to stop now, little one?"

"Noooo..not really" you said meekly

"Figured, how do you feel knowing that i often touch myself thinking about you"

Your breath hitched and you needed a moment to answer,

"Uhhh I feel desired and sexy" you mumbled nervously.

"Such a good girl, that's how you deserve to feel all the time" you squeezed your thighs together at the soft praise, his voice had gotten so firm like a school teacher but in the sexiest way possible.

"I am a good girl..but maybe I'll disappoint you in bed" there you go ruining the sexy moments with your insecurities. His brows furrowed as he noticed the sadness in your voice so he propped himself on his elbow to flip the phone to the other ear.

"Why would you say that my sweet princess?" the soft voice made your eyes tear up. Why were you like this?

"Because my ex told me"

"He did?" His jaw clenched as he heard that,

"But it was my fault, i wasn't as invested in having sex with him as he was"

"Because of the heat?"

"Mmmhmmmm"

"What did he say to you?"

"Ummm let's not discuss that lo"

"What did he say?"

"Just that..I was awful in bed and that I needed to show more enthusiasm and partake in the act of pleasing him rather than him doing everything..you know" He got absolutely quiet so you spoke again, maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. Your mouth was one of the reasons why you had trouble keeping the guys interested in you for long.

"I'm sorry..I don't know why I told you that.. please ignore it and can we go back to being naughty?" you chuckled nervously even though your eyes were welled up now because of the embarassement.

"I apologise for going quite on you. I'd love to show you how wrong that scoundrel was about you. It takes two to battle my darling, perhaps he wasn't capable of pleasing a woman as sensual as you are"

You bit on your lips at his words, the slight anger in his voice made you smile though, he was protective about you and it gave you all the butterflies in the stomach, you have never had a feeling like this before "Well I do hope he is wrong though"

"He is, you want to know how I know that?" He smiled

"How?"

"Last night, the way your body responded to me, just thinking about it makes my cock ache for your warmth" he mumbled

"Goshhhhh lokiiiii" you sucked a deep breath in, voice barely a whisper

"And that voice of yours, norns my little love.. I'd do anything for you as long as you're moaning so sweetly for me, as long as you're making those pretty little noises in my ears" he whispered softly and your fingers settled between your legs involuntarily.

"Mmmmmhmmm I'll do anything for you lo.. whatever you ask"

"I know you will.. I know you'd do anything for me"

You sat up as your breathing got heavier. The meeting. Oh god.

And you also had to change your underwear now.

"God I have to gooo" he chuckled as you said that.

"That's a shame"

"I know I'm sorry..that was thrilling..oh wow i need a moment" he chuckled again. He rubbed his cock slowly in order to suppress those sensations you had evoked in him but it was only making it worse so he stopped touching himself.

"Princess?" He wanted to share the dream he had about you two but now wasn't the time, you were already late.

"Mmm?"

"Nothing..I uhh ..you'll miss me?"

"Lokiii I am missing you right now and we are talking, you don't even know how much I'm going to miss you"

His heart fluttered as you said that.

"So will I, and perhaps i will see you tonight"

"Please do and maybe we can umm play with each other again just like last night"

You smiled widely before you hung up, leaving him to stay hard the rest of the day, he sighed as he put the phone down on his chest and then his mouth curved into a smile thinking about the last few minutes.

You really wanted to tell him that you loved him but was it too soon to do that? You had no idea.

“I’m sorry I’m late” you apologized as you spotted him at the restaurant, your mom had mailed a picture of him to you so it was easier to recognise.

“It’s fine I guess, I’m used to such tardiness” he was smiling but you could tell he was annoyed, you didn’t miss the sarcasm in his tone.

“Ummm okay actually I don’t think I got your name yet, my mom told me everything except your name, I’m y/n by the way” you raised your hand forward so he looked at it for a few seconds before he shook it.

“Hello y/n, my name is Doctor Stephen Strange”

You didn't know how to talk to him, when you tried to order something to eat he told you that he had already done it for you so now you had nothing else to do or say.

You sipped on the drink in order to avoid the awkward silence between you two. So this was going soooooo well right? You missed loki, even the pin drop silence was never awkward with him, back when you two were purely friends and he was hiding in your apartment, the conversation between you two never felt forced. Sure you blabbed unnecessarily at times but he always smiled and he never seemed annoyed. You both would often sit on the sofa with your backs resting on the individual armrest and your legs almost touching each other, you'd watch something on your phone and he would read his books, it felt cozy and comfortable.

How the hell did you even stumble upon someone like him?

"Why aren't you eating?" Stephen asked you so you smiled but before you could answer he interrupted you

"Let me guess, you're one of those women aren't you, those who pretend to not eat on dates even though the reality couldn't be farther from it..no offense " Well you took it.

"First of all I love eating but beef steak isn't the idea of a hearty lunch for me" he snickered as he cut himself a piece, the precision he used with his knife was enough to tell you that he indeed was a surgeon.

"You were extremely late, I had to order for us"

"Yeah thank you for not waiting for me to get my opinion, I bet you're one of those men who think they are superior and can decide everything for their women"

"Last time I checked you weren't mine" he winked at you so you rolled your eyes.

"Look I'm only here because my mother forced me to–"

"That's also why I –"

"Stop interrupting me" you cut him off and that felt really nice.

You pointed a finger at him so he went quiet but now you forgot what you were even saying and he used the opportunity to speak again.

"That is exactly why I'm here as well so let's just eat and never see each other again alright?" He said rudely so you nodded.

"Yeah I'd like that"

"Good"

"So New York City, what's it like?" You questioned him and he glared at you,

"I can't just stay quiet, and you're eating awfully slow" he sighed at the statement.

"It's definitely been much worse since the attack"

"The Chitauris?" You asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, isn't it funny how they glorified the man responsible for the whole mess and turned him into an Avenger, best way to redeem a criminal right?" Your jaw clenched as he said that, he didn't even know Loki.

"Do you not watch news, Loki wasn't an accomplice, he was a victim"

"Fantastic story isn't it, heart wrenching, it's so easy to befool the humankind"

You wanted to say so many things but you couldn't even defend him in public, people would think you were just a crazy fan or worse one of those simps who just wanted to fuck the Asgardian god. You did want to do that though.

"So where were you when it happened?" You asked him to change the conversation, hoping he'd keep his resentment to himself.

"In the nearest building performing an extensive and very critical surgery, have to say it was not at all hard to focus with the sounds of grenades going off every few seconds"

"Ohhh..well that's admirable that you didn't feel scared or ran away" he snickered as you said that.

"Yeah, an innocent woman would have died on my table if I had lost my concentration that day and the man responsible for it got away with no remorse or repercussions, he's being celebrated instead"

Okay that was enough.

"Well you don't know that, you don't know what he's going through, how much guilt he carries or how bad it is for him to sleep at night when he's all alone..you don't know him or why he did what he did..what would you do if a powerful entity had influenced you and tortured you for a year like that?" He looked at you, slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst before he snickered condescendingly.

"I see you're one of those"

"Whattt?" You looked at him confused.

"The ones who wants to fuck him"

"You are so judgemental, I bet you judge other people's brains when they're splayed open in front of you"

"Uh-huh by the way Didn't he want to commit mass genocide even before the whole ordeal?"

"Yeah so did Thor, but he's a hero isn't he?" Why you were you fighting with him? You should just leave right?

"Well to be fair I don't think too highly of him either" Leave now.

"You know what this was fun..byye bye..see you never "

You stood up and walked out, he didn't stop you either, you had to cross the road to get to the other side but you heard him calling your name so you stopped like a moron in the middle of the street to turn and look at him, that's when a man with a motorbike came out of nowhere and hit you. You didn't remember much after that, you remembered the sharp pain in your right leg and you remembered seeing Stephen's stupid face before you lost consciousness.

A few hours later you woke up and your head was pounding, when you looked to the side, Stephen was there reading a newspaper,

"Did you perform a brain surgery on me?" You asked him so he raised his eyebrows.

"Do you have one in there because the way you stood there in the middle of the road was foolish"

"That guy came out of nowhere "

"Very well, now that you're awake, I'm gonna leave" he said as he got up so you sat up hurriedly.

"Wait wait how would I get home, oh my god is my leg broken?" You looked at the bandage on your right ankle and your eyes widened. No it can't be, it can't be. Thirty years, you had gone thirty years without a broken bone and you were planning to keep it that way all your life, it can't be broken right?

"I broke my bone, didn't i? " Your eyes welled up so he sighed.

"It's just a sprain, you'll be fine in a week or two"

"A week? I can't not work for a week, they'll fire me" you groaned

"Well you should have thought about that before you–"

"You know what..just shut up okay?"

He rolled his eyes and luckily he agreed to drive you home. He had to assist you to walk though and you didn't really like the idea of being so close to a man you barely knew.

"So whose car is it?" You asked him as he sat you down on the passenger seat.

"Rental"

"Figured"

"Why did you ask if you figured?"

You crossed your arms and didn't respond to him, to avoid the awkwardness you turned the radio on.

Hey I just met you and this is crazy but here's my number so call me maybe

You immediately changed the channel to not give him any sort of wrong signal. He seemed the type to take wrong signals.

My universe will never be the same. I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came.

You bobbed your head back and forth to the beat of the song and he shook his head in disbelief.

It was around 11 at night, how long were you out for? You were surprised he stayed by your side and didn't just flee, maybe it was the doctor in him. Well atleast he wasn't the worst man you have ever met in your life.

God you wanted to talk to Loki, you grabbed your purse and took out your phone but it was discharged completely.

Luckily your building had the lift but he still accompanied you to your apartment, as soon as you opened the door and even though you couldn't see him, you just knew he was there. Loki was there, you could smell his cologne

"Umm would you like a cup of coffee or something?" Please say no..

He looked around the apartment and his face contorted in disgust. Was this your mother disguised as a man? Well you had no idea you would be bringing him back here, this wasn't a date and you were too distracted before the meeting to even think of cleaning the space.

"No thanks. Here's your medicine" he passed you the small prescription bag so you took it from him.

"Well ummm thank you and I'm sorry i won't be able to show you around" you said to him so he rolled his eyes.

"Good, I'm relieved"

An awkward silence and even the worst goodbye handshake later he finally left, you were still on the couch and before you could say anything Loki appeared and locked the main door from inside. His face seemed blotchy, eyes red, cheeks dampened, you could tell he had cried.

He walked towards you and got down on his knees in front of you, then he lifted the right leg up to inspect the injury.

"Lokii"

"Who did this to you ?" He asked you

"Some guy on a bike..It was just an accident"

"That man isn't responsible for this state of yours is he?" He asked you so you shook your head, you cupped his face to make him look at you and his eyes were filled with fear.

"I'm sorry, i would have called but my phone died and ummm I was unconscious "

"Norns y/n" he flinched away from you and stood up, only to pace back and forth in front of you. You were worried that he was angry but then the look on his face was enough to tell you that he was scared, he wasn't able to get in touch with you at all and that must have been terrifying.

"Looo baby" you called out to him and put your hand forward so he took it and sat down next to you on the sofa.

"I'm okay, it's just a sprain"

Well unfortunately you couldn't climb on his lap so you somehow scooted closer to him and hugged him.

"I am sorry darling, I was losing my mind here" his arms wrapped around your tightly and he placed his head down on your shoulder.

"I know I know it's okay i would have been the same"

After a minute or so, he got on his feet again and picked you up in his arms only to lay you down on the sofa again.

"How bad does it hurt?" He asked you and your face scrunched in response, it wasn't bothering you when you came back to consciousness but now you were starting to feel it.

"I think the meds will help"

He sat down on the corner of the sofa and placed your legs on his leg carefully before he grabbed the right one and trailed his fingers all over your ankle, the longer he did it the better you felt.

"Did you just fix me?"

"I wish I could darling but I'm not that kind of God, i can barely lessen the pain and discomfort that comes with it" you smiled as he said that. He was talking as if this wasn't an otherworldly magic in itself.

"How do you do that? I mean how is it possible... like in a scientific way?" He chuckled as you questioned him "I'm sorry I'm on drugs i think"

"No you can ask questions..it's just you're adorable when you do" you giggled at the compliment, he carefully hovered on top of you, avoiding your leg to not hurt you any further and kissed you softly.

"It's just a form of energy being used differently darling"

"Energy?" You looked at him confused so he tucked your hair behind your ears before he kissed your forehead. Everytime he kissed your forehead you couldn't help but giggle.

"Mhhmm In simpler words whenever you see me doing this–" he said as he conjured a flower out of nowhere and gave it to you "I am merely harnessing the cumulative energies from multiple dimensions in order to fetch me whatever I need from my vault" you nodded even though it made no sense to you.

"You're so cute but I don't understand anything" he chuckled and kissed you before he got off the sofa, picked you up again and then laid you down on the bed so you could rest.

"Fancy a cup of tea madame?" You nodded as he asked you.

He made tea for you, he fed you dinner that had to be a takeout because he wasn't even going to attempt to cook and burn down your apartment. You smelled like the hospital and wanted to shower so he helped you get to the bathroom, luckily you had put on a dress for the meeting instead of a jeans so it was easier to take off, you noticed how he had kept his eyes closed like the gentleman that he was when you asked him to take you back to the room while you just had a towel wrapped around your body.

By the time you were in bed again you felt extremely exhausted, the meds were making you feel drowsy already.

"I'm going to abhor leaving you all alone here in the morning" he cooed in your ears so you pecked on his lips.

"Mmmm don't leave me then..stayyy"

"I wish I could princess, I truly wish I could be here for you all the time"

"I know baby it's okay i understand, besides I'll be fine, it's just a sprain"

"How long will it take to heal completely?"

"Two weeks at the most, but I heal fast so one week" you laughed and it warmed his heart.

"Ummm okay I have a proposition for you"

"What?" You smiled because you thought he was going to say something silly to make you laugh again but what he said made you sit up and contemplate, how was this even going to work? Especially with Melissa and those Avengers around.

"Come stay with me at the tower while you're healing"

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

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[crow-in-gotham]

BLOG POST NO. 12 - WTF IS A BATMAN

If there is one thing that I have learned about the people of this city, it is the fact that literally everyone here loves to gossip. Like seriously, you see it everywhere, from people of all ages, young or old. I’m not complaining about it by any means (I’m Filipino, being a marites is kinda in my blood) but it’s just a little bit jarring to be on the bus, just peacefully minding my own business, then suddenly overhear someone gossiping in the seats behind me.

Which is exactly what happened to me today on my ride to school.

The apparent topic of the day? The identity of the ever mysterious Batman.

I know, I know, the topic has been talked about so much that if you compiled all the conspiracy theories regarding this and printed it out, the amount of paper you’d fill up might just be enough to reach the halfway point between the Earth and the Moon.

But regardless of how overdone this topic is, it’s still a pretty interesting thing to talk about. After all, absolutely no one knows who Batman is, or if he’s even a man in the first place. For all we know, the “man” in his name might be a red herring and he’s actually some eldritch alien sent from beyond the Milky Way to lull the world into a false sense of security so he can open a portal into the Dark Dimension and take over the entire world as an evil overlord.

Too much? Yeah, I think so too— but hey, what else am I supposed to do during my Differential Equations class, actually listen to the lecture? Pssh, nahhh— my attention span is way too short to sit through an entire 3 hours of just constantly being bombarded by numbers (I am so fucked).

Anyway, back to the topic at hand— Batman’s identity.

I’ve seen so many theories floating around about this, but only two in particular are that memorable for me personally. Well, three if you count the last one (we’ll get to that).

The first theory was that it might be this dude named Harvey Dent (had to look him up— and man, all I can say is that I’m sorry), but uh certain events have completely debunked that. If you live in Gotham then you know exactly what I’m talking about, and if you don’t then uh go do a quick internet search, I’m too lazy to spoon feed you all the information you need (you gotta learn how to do your own research somehow).

Then there’s the whole “Batman is Bruce Wayne” thing which is like, okay, I know where they’re going with this but at the same time I’m kinda ehh on it, you know? For one, Bruce Wayne looks too much like a personified teddy bear (I have said this once and I’ve said it again) to be the civilian identity of the literal definition of darkness and “it’s not a phase” but bat furry coded. I just don’t think the dude that flirts with women and men (istg the amount of times the tabloids just conveniently skip past this— I know for a fact I’m not the only one who’s seen that photo of this dude grab the waist of that male reporter from the Daily Planet— I see them) every chance he gets is the same guy who puts on a bat costume (am I allowed to make another furry joke?) to beat up bad guys in the middle of the night.

So what I’m trying to get at here is that I see the point being made, and I acknowledge it, but I just feel like we need more concrete evidence, you know?

I hope to fuck that I did not just summon an entire mob to come after me for that last bit.

Anyhow, onto my final theory, which is the fact that Batman might just be a cryptid born from the shadows of Gotham herself. This connects to the whole “Gotham is alive” conspiracy that started circulating around a few years ago. I don’t know how popularized it is, but it ended up reaching me when I was browsing through some forums a couple weeks back and honestly, even if it’s not true, it makes for an interesting thought. Because hey, what if cities are alive? That’d be interesting (and is also mildly terrifying).

The basic idea of this theory is the fact that Batman, thanks to being a cryptid and all that, isn’t actually human and therefore doesn’t have a human identity. He’s just Batman. As for why Gotham made him in the form of a human, not many people really answer this question (or more like no one really bothers to ask), but here’s my thoughts: I think Gotham made Batman into a humanoid because we as humans are often more inclined to be comfortable with something if it’s in the form of something familiar to us (hence, human). Like, imagine if Batman wasn’t human and was something like a massive blur of shadow and tendrils— wouldn’t that freak you the fuck out? Regardless of whether or not it saved you, you’ll still feel fucking terrified of it. But if it’s someone that just looks like a dude in a costume, then doesn’t that make you a little less scared? (I say “a little less” because let’s be real, human or not, Batman excels in being terrifying)

Well, that’s all under the assumption that the whole “Batman is a Cryptid” and “Gotham is Alive” are true.

Or that Batman even exists.

I’m pretty sure he does but there’s a lot of people that are saying otherwise, so I feel like I should at least acknowledge the fact that some people think he’s not real? Like, I even have classmates who say that Batman is just a tale told to kids so they don’t misbehave and stay out for too long— which, okay, that’s fair. I’ve heard my fair share of scary stories and beings throughout my childhood as well to be honest— also from adults who thought it’d be a great way to keep me obedient (mostly my titos and titas, my ma and pa never really liked scaring me or my brother)

Buut, I’m going to have to disagree with those points because I’ve heard Red Hood talk to his little earpiece thing (yes, Red Hood, I know you have one, because literally every vigilante/hero in a team should— no, I do not care if you say you’re a crime lord, you saved me from a mugger, get over it). And you know who he called out to one time? Batman.

And okay, to be fair, Red Hood could’ve just said the name to keep convincing people that Batman is real when he’s not, but honestly I don’t think Mr. Bleeding Bat Symbol over here would be that dedicated in making Gotham believe in something that isn’t real.

But I digress.

Do I actually care about Batman's real identity? Absolutely not. As long as the dude doesn’t bother me then I have nothing against his questionable life choices (I mean come on, what kind of life choices lead you to dressing up like a crime fighting bat?).

And also he keeps Gotham marginally safer, I guess, so that’s a win in my book.

As for the whole “What’s Batman’s relationship with Bruce Wayne?”— I've also given it some thought.

And honestly a part of me thinks they might be exes… or divorced.

But that’s a ramble for another time— I need to study for my next class.

[sukioyakio]

All it takes is an bit of practice

This is a of Miguel if he didn’t switch spot for the other Miguel and the other Miguel lived with his daughter( and wanted to be more polite and I wanted to be more like ‘happy Miguel’)

I feel llike Miguel,the one we know,who is the leader of the spider society,would still stalk the other Miguel the one that die and the one miguel switch with and his life but wouldn’t go all out to switch spot for him since he still alive. But like let imagine Miguel is asking Layla if he come out homely or look sweet and give kind vibes? Since he doesn’t know if he come out like that,since he always inside he’s man cave.In which I feel like Layla would just have this face

“🤨🙂” Layla-“Uum Miguel. . .what. .are you evening doing?”she says with an questioning look,as she pop up next to miguel,with her eyebrows raised.

Which Miguel grunt and mutter as he look at the other Miguel smiling sweetly in an picture and let out an annoyed sigh.

Miguel-“I. . I’m. .trying to smile” he says,as he pinched his nose and looked more annoyed at how stupid he sounded.”oh joder esta mierda” he muttered,as layla pause then realized.

Layla-“OHHHhh!Bossman! I didn’t what you’re doing with your face,but now I know!!miguel”she says with an awkward smile,as she look at him and then away.

Miguel-“Is my smile that bad. . . .”he say with a grunt as he look at the picture again,and sighs,as he hears nothing from layla for a good 5 seconds,

Layla-“ it is Miguel *she sighs as Layla pat his back well try too*… look I know I’m not program to lie But if I being serious it a bad smile. . . . . but I can help with that!”she say with an award chuckle but to be soon an playful smile,as she give him an thumbs up.

Miguel-“Gracias layla"he says genuinely as he look at the picture with the other him with his daughter, and take an deep breath and look at layla with an determined look.

Layla-“no problem!! I just look up ten different articles on HOW TO smile Better” she says with an cheeky smile and her sassy voice perk in,as she pull up her mini holograms.

Miguel-“ ten? why not one article?”

Layla-“because I know it going to take longer than one article”she says in an “well duh 🙄” voice to Miguel,as she has an smug smile.

Which Miguel grunted at and sigh as he turned to point at the picture with the other Miguel with Gabriella smiling and then layla teleported well zap into view of the hologram and then after a few minutes of layla staring back at Miguel and the other Miguel she smiled at him

Layla-“OK soooo after examining the smiling face of the other you I think we can start!”

Miguel-“finally Iayla”

Layla-“ ok big man I want you to try smile again but better then last time ok 👍”

Miguel-“ok..? miguel smile but the smile look like he was one of the like an insane mother fucker and Miguel started to get worried at Layla reaction”w-what wrong!?”

Layla-“… boss man I think this is going to take us all day honestly☠️…”

grunted and sighed harder trying to be more polite but failed obviously and pinch his nose Miguel-WHY!??!!! … was my Smile that bad what did it look like”

she sigh and she look the other way,as she tried to not to laugh at the picture of Miguel trying to smile Layla-”Oh lord Miguel pff-fft~ I’m so sorry”

Miguel-“I hate you…” Layla-“I know you meant ‘I love you,anyway LET US BEGIN the session”

after a lot of fails attempts and a lot of awkward smile and some angry faces and smile and some ugly faces

Miguel-“ a la mierda esta MIREDA! I can’t do this is shit NO MORE LAYLA! We been doing this FOR 12 HOURS NOW!!… god I just wanted to smile like the other me ….” Miguel just makes an loud disappointed sigh.

Layla-“ Miguel I’m sorry but I’m all the articles, videos,and pictures, said to be happy and be a kind or funny person.. are you happy? Miguel”she says in an question tone of voice and her face looks an bit concerned for him but still having her sassy eyes.

Miguel-“I AM HAPPY LAYLA! DO I LOOK HAPPY!” He says very sarcastically and loudly.

Miguel look at Layla with the forced smile ever his eyes are pull all the way out it look like it about to fall out and his smile is just a huge awkward smile

Layla-“ EHHH-…. Nope you don’t look or sound like it”

Miguel-“FUCK! I’m done”

after a few minutes of sighing at himself for thinking about this would be a good idea to be more polite or to be like his more like his other version of himself … ‘being happy with his daughter’ keyword ‘with his daughter’

Layla-“fine but Miguel don’t you want to see the pictures that we took from tour trying smile session?”

Miguel-“fine” he says with an scoff and sigh.

Layla showing all the pictures of the smiling session the awkward ones,the angers,the wtf smile face,the huh smile.

And then Miguel smile that All those stupid pictures of him trying to smile and Layla laughing and smile in some of he picture,as layla looked at him and saw him smiling like actually smiling.

Layla-“OMG YOU SMILE MIGUEL WE FINALLY DID IT!”

Miguel-“shut up ok” … as he chuckles at his stupid face,-“I can’t believe that how I look like”as he rolls his eyes still with an slight grin on his face.

Layla-“yea I know right”she says with an sassy tone of voice,and chuckles.

Miguel-“ shut up…Layla … thank you”

Layla-“NO problem! Miguel!” She says as she file her ai nails,with an playful smile on her face.

layla-“it only take an bit of practice”

Sorry if there any mistakes for the Spanish part,I use google translate,so if there anything tell me,also I hope you enjoy this,I just wanted to make something with Miguel and layla,BUT I hope you guys have an great day.

quote of the day :

“I.. always . . Come..BACK!!”

@tarjapearce @honey-on-your-tongue @cherryredstars @miguelsslvt

[elettralightwood]

Do you know, I’ve realised I’ve never actually told you what I thought the first time we met? You see, for me, memories are difficult. Very often, they hurt. A curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back upon because of the absence there, that suddenly they’re inaccessible. You must invent an entirely new system. I started to think of myself and my life and my whole lifetime worth of memories as all the dark, dusty rooms of Buckingham Palace. I took the night Bea left rehab and I begged her to take it seriously, and I put it in a room with pink peonies on the wallpaper and a golden harp in the center of the floor. I took my first time, with one of my brother’s mates from uni when I was seventeen, and I found the smallest, most cramped little broom cupboard I could muster, and I shoved it in. I took my father’s last night, the way his face went slack, the smell of his hands, the fever, the waiting and waiting and terrible waiting and the even worse not-waiting anymore, and I found the biggest room, a ballroom, wide open and dark, windows drawn and covered. Locked the doors. But the first time I saw you. Rio. I took that down to the gardens. I pressed it into the leaves of a silver maple and recited it to the Waterloo Vase. It didn’t fit in any rooms. You were talking with Nora and June, happy and animated and fully alive, a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access, and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You weren’t even a president’s son yet, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen, and I had better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire. And then I was a careless fool, and I fell in love with you anyway. When you rang me at truly shocking hours of the night, I loved you. When you kissed me in disgusting public toilets and pouted in hotel bars and made me happy in ways in which it had never even occurred to me that a mangled-up, locked-up person like me could be happy, I loved you. And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it? Sometimes, even now, I still can’t.

You shut the fuck up.

I can’t decide if your emails make me miss you more or less. Sometimes I feel like a funny-looking rock in the middle of the most beautiful clear ocean when I read the kinds of things you write to me. You love so much bigger than yourself, bigger than everything. I can’t believe how lucky I am to even witness it—to be the one who gets to have it, and so much of it, is beyond luck and feels like fate. I can’t match you for prose, but what I can do is write you a list. AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY OF WALES. 1. The sound of your laugh when I piss you off. 2. The way you smell underneath your fancy cologne, like clean linens but somehow also fresh grass (what kind of magic is this?). 3. That thing you do where you stick out your chin to try to look tough. 4. How your hands look when you play piano. 5. All the things I understand about myself now because of you. 6. How you think Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wars (wrong) because deep down you’re a gigantic, sappy, embarrassing romantic who just wants the happily ever after. 7. Your ability to recite Keats. 8. Your ability to recite Bernadette’s “Don’t let it drag you down” monologue from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. 9. How hard you try. 10. How hard you’ve always tried. 11. How determined you are to keep trying. 12. That when your shoulders cover mine, nothing else in the entire stupid world matters. 13. The goddamn issue of Le Monde you brought back to London with you and kept and have on your nightstand (yes, I saw it). 14. The way you look when you first wake up. 15. Your shoulder-to-waist ratio. 16. Your huge, generous, ridiculous, indestructible heart. 17. Your equally huge dick. 18. The face you just made when you read that last one. 19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it). 20. The fact that you loved me all along. I keep thinking about that last one ever since you told me, and what an idiot I was. It’s so hard for me to get out of my own head sometimes, but now I’m coming back to what I said to you the night in my room when it all started, and how I brushed you off when you offered to let me go after the DNC, how I used to try to act like it was nothing sometimes. I didn’t even know what you were offering to do to yourself. God, I want to fight everyone who’s ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn’t it? All that time. I’m so sorry. Please stay gorgeous and strong and unbelievable.

And you also shut the fuck up

They make me want to curl into a little ball and cry for the rest of my life

[gasolinerainbowreads]

I am trying to get better about organizing all the fic I read! (My drafts still sit at a hefty number lol.)

↓ ICON LEGEND ↓

🌈 = title 🪆 = series, multiple parts, etc. 🔋 = make sure your vibrator is charged before reading 😈 = Horny Demon Hours™ approved 🥹 = hurts so good/ouch, my feelings 🧠 = did somethin to my brain/altered my brain chemistry

Here's what I read in August along with a comment and/or a favorite excerpt:

@cavillscurls

🌈Pretty Prey 🔋😈-- Joel Miller x afab!reader "Tears spring to your waterline as he bruises into your cervix, the grunts and murmurs of that’s it, take it baby, can see the outline of my cock against your tummy all indication of his enjoyment."

@ezrasbirdie

🌈Catalyst 🪆🔋😈-- no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader x frankie morales “Tastes damn good, doesn’t it?” Joel says, and Frankie lets out a quiet, desperate whine. “Good boy.” 🌈Some Part of Me Came Alive 🪆🔋😈🧠 -- no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader x frankie morales Joel runs his fingers through Frankie’s hair when he pulls of off of him, cupping his cheeks and brushing his thumbs over his jaw. It's like that first kiss all over again--there's such profound relief Joel has to fight back tears. It doesn't matter that he's new to this--it's all so right because it's Frankie. 🌈Breakfast 🪆🥹 -- no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader x frankie morales plzzzzz this is so fucking perfect and sweet and good and i wanna devour it

@netherfeildren

🌈Forfeiting My Mystique 🥹🧠 -- Ezra x F!Reader “It’s why I love art,” he continues. “You can be close to something, feel its warmth, beauty – whatever feeling it is the artist intended to pull out of you, from a distance. Untouched – it’s untouchable. That comforts me for some reason.” 🌈The Cassandra Complex, Ch 1 🪆🔋😈 -- Din Djarin x F!Reader “Just one more, little one. Want to see it up close,” he murmurs. 🌈The Cassandra Complex, Ch 2 🪆 -- Din Djarin x F!Reader You are a burning effigy washed in the violet light of righteous fury as you stalk slowly towards his, soon to be dead, bounty. 🌈Greener Memories of Better Men 🔋🥹-- Joel Miller x F!Reader This whole entire thing is heart-wrenching and amazing.

@swiftispunk

🌈Your Summer Dream, Day 4 - Sand 🪆🔋🥹-- JOEL MILLER X F!READER “Just ask nice, baby, I’ll give you whatever you need.” THIS MAN IS A MENACE. 🌈Your Summer Dream, Day 5 - New 🪆🔋🥹-- JOEL MILLER X F!READER "Suck," you instruct him, stronger now, more desperate as he draws pleasure from you with what's clearly practiced care. "Good girl," he hums lowly, like he's genuinely proud of your confidence, like he really does want this for you. WHEN'S IT GONNA BE MY TURN?! HUHHH???????

@strang3lov3

🌈Hibachi 🪆🔋😈-- bil!joel miller x fem reader (pre/no outbreak) This whole entire thing is *CHEF'S KISS* 🌈Are We Going To Talk About It? 🪆🥹-- bil!joel miller x fem reader (pre/no outbreak) This time, you will be loved like you deserve. & You are safe here with me.  🌈Come To Jesus Moment 🪆🧠 -- bil!joel miller x fem reader (pre/no outbreak) Every time she says sorry to Jesus I howl.

@thetriumphantpanda

🌈Come Away with Me, Monday 🪆🔋😈🥹 -- Joel Miller x F!Reader x Tommy Miller OH MY GOD i am obsessed with this whole dynamic. 🌈In The Woods Somewhere, Ch 1 🪆-- Joel Miller x F!Reader plzzzzzzzz she never missesssssssss jfc

@frannyzooey

🌈Short Days, Long Nights 12 🪆🥹🧠 -- Joel Miller x f!reader this shit just fucking CHANGES MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY every fucking time I read it

@joelscruff

🌈Needy Baby 🪆🔋😈😈😈😈😈😈🥹🧠🧠🧠🧠 -- boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader bro. MY GUY. MY SISTREN. this is ... this is the hottest smust ive ever read. idc. this whole story is amazing, and then THIS??? i can't even fucking think straight

@ezrasbirdie

🌈Surrender, Ch 10 🪆🔋🥹🧠 -- joel miller x ofc daisy She flushed read from her neck to her ears. "I don't know, exactly. I just don't want to embarrass you." Daisy had a habit of casually saying things that shattered his heart. Why did she think he'd be embarrassed? PLZZZZZZ. This fucking series KILLS ME. Daisy is my homegirl, and i will fight anybody who disagrees that she is SUPREME. 🌈Surrender, Ch 11 🪆🥹🧠 -- joel miller x ofc daisy All the fears she’d worked so hard to push away returned, magnified by the memory of Joel’s lips all over her skin. He’d held her and made love to her and kissed her all over and then he left her here alone. He said he needed her, too, and then he left her here. Alone. *screams like an injured pterodactyl*

@bageldaddy

🌈I Know It When I See It, Part 3 🪆🔋😈🥹 -- pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader But growing up a girl meant getting used to the idea that sometimes sex was painful. You’re so used to men moving with violence, with contempt. In real life, so much of fucking felt like hate, it’s not exactly a surprise to find that sometimes the same thing is true in porn. 🌈I Know It When I See It, Part 4 🪆🔋😈🥹 -- pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader the smut in this part is so hot you are guaranteed to feel your heartbeat in your pussy lmao

@chloeangelic

🌈Yes, Father IV 🪆🔋-- Priest!Joel Miller x Priest!Javier Peña x housewife!reader the way he takes her to their bedroom instead of the guest bedroom made me wanna punch a wall what a menace lmao love it 🌈Belong To Me, Chosen 🪆🔋😈🥹 -- Line cook Joel x waitress reader the breeding kink .... DO NOT READ WHILE OVULATION im being so for real when i say that

@softlyspector

🌈Decaf 🪆🥹🧠 -- tattoo artist!Joel Miller x f!Reader this whole entire series is so delicate and intricate. i am obvs a huge slut and love smut, but this story doesn't even need it. it's so, so good.

@breakfastatjoels

🌈A Bird in Your Teeth, Epilogue 🪆🥹-- joel miller x f!reader this was the perfect ending to an AMAZING story. plz read this if you haven't already!!!!

@walkintotheriveranddisappear

🌈And His Car Is a Piece of Shit 🪆🥹-- joel miller x fem reader the angst in this one is CHEF'S KISS 🌈Total Satisfaction, from the Comfort of Your Own Home 🪆🔋-- joel miller x afab reader a man that will dick you down with a possessive edge and then do handyman jobs around the house?? sign me the fuck up

@darkroastjoel

🌈A Safe Haven, Ch 8 🪆🥹 -- Joel Miller x Female Reader; Ellie Williams x Platonic Female Reader this is like my all-time fave comfort fic 100%. it's ongoing, but i have read each existing part several times lol

@tieronecrush

🌈Only Angel, Ch 1 🪆-- javier peña x f!reader the whole concept is so good, and i love all the detail! also, the part where she emailed him about a mistake in the syllabus had me fucking rolling. NERD.

@psychedelic-ink

🌈You Hate It That You Love Me 🪆🥹 -- stripper!jack daniels x f!reader this whole series was so angsty and delicious. definitely one you will re-read over and over. 🌈Menuet 🔋😈😈😈🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠 -- animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader im so fuckin mad at this story. this shit unlocked a new kink for me and fucked with my brain in the process.

@iamskyereads

🌈Compulsion Pt 5 - Initiation 🪆🔋😈🧠 -- EZRA (PROSPECT) X OFC BEATRICE I. AM. OBSESSSED. This fucking fic... I cannot BELIEVE I get to just come on this website and read shit of this caliber FOR FREE?!?!!?! insane

@party-hearses

🌈Relax, Baby 🪆🔋-- joel miller x f!reader if Joel called me princesa id be fucking DONE gone no thoughts 🌈Don't Be a Brat, Baby 🪆🔋-- joel miller x f!reader second part to the above story. such a fun read, and the dialogue is EVERYTHING so cute, sexy at times, playful. just so damn fun to read this!!!

@pascalsbby

🌈The Devil and His Brother, Pt 1 🪆🥹🧠 -- Joel x Tommy x Reader again. we get to read this shit. FOR FREE. my fucking mind cannot wrap itself around that fact. so many fucking talented writers in this fandom. thank you thank you thank you for sharing your brilliant, fun works! this story is a wonderful example of "ordinary people" knocking it out of the fucking PARK with their talent.

@cool-iguana

🌈Acting Out 🔋 😈😈😈-- Din x f! reader “Are you now? You forgot to count, though, cyar’ika. Good girls count. Let’s try again from one, no crying.” His tone dripped with condescension as he began again, practically reveling in each gasp and broken sob that spilled from your lips, taking pleasure in each time you stuttered on a number. this is so horny i love it

@mandoisapunk

🌈Ride, Cowgirl 🔋-- Joel Miller x reader i love the dynamics in their relationship and the comfort of switching it up!

@gracieispunk

🌈Bowling Night 🪆🔋-- Maintenance man!joel x f!reader listen, i am ride or die for reader. she's never done anything wrong in her entire life, and i stand by that lmao.

@toomanystoriessolittletime

🌈Revenge 🔋😈-- Dave York x fem. Reader CUCKING!!!! HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[clatoera]

Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 9: I am what I am cause you trained me

Heeeeeeeey besties. I've been WAITING for this one. I've looked forward to it for a while now!! The next chapter is obviously thee chapter so this is the one we had to do. We had to get here. We have been waiting to get here for a LONG time. And here we are.

To start, I actually fuck up the months transition in this a few times I think. I dont think in months. I think in weeks, and so while the months may be off the weeks would be correct (part 1 is 12, part 2 is 16, part 3 is 34, and part 4 is 36). Much of this is accurate in terms of the physiology as well as some of the complaints.

Clove has a lot of anxieties and fears that we really otherwise don't see and so theres a lot more vulnerability on her part here than any other prior chapter so that is a bit different.

Thank you for sticking around I'm very very excited to get this out into the world!

AO3

masterpost

Title from T swift as usual

As always, thank you to the besties, especially @kentwells who has heard me ramble about this for months, and also @bodyelectric77 who doesn't hear me ramble as much about it but still is a victim to my senseless thoughts.

xoxo

From the time she was fifteen years old Clove had one, and truly only one, fear. Prior to fifteen it had been a non issue as far as she had been concerned–it’s not like anyone looked at her like that (or rather, if they did, there was someone large, blonde, and violent threatening them for even daring to do so).  

Dying in the Hunger Games didn’t even dredge up the same feeling of terror and peril. If she died in the games, well at least she went out fighting. It wasn’t like there was going to be anyone back home disappointed in her.  

Okay, maybe during her time in the capitol with blood filled joints and flayed skin, she had one greater fear. Even then, she didn’t fear death itself, considering that sometimes death would have been a welcome relief. Her fear, then, was deeper than death and more so in an eternity of that. 

Of note it wasn’t like she ever actually thought this particular fear had come true, save for once. But that was years ago, literal days before the Quarter Quell and well- she clearly never got an answer either way on that one. 

Even now, with her right index finger teetering on her teeth, shaving the nail down to the bleeding quick, she wasn’t entirely sure until right now either. The only thing she’s been positive about is that she could  actually feel her heart trying to escape the safety of her bones so that it can run off and let the fear dissipate like heat in a nuclear explosion. 

Now, well, there's two things she’s pretty positive about. 

To be fair she wasn’t necessarily doing anything to prevent living her biggest fear– she never needed to (save for a one year stint between Cato’s games and her own). She just..assumed she was very very lucky.

Who could blame her for the uncertainty, in her defense. It’s winter– and if the past three winters have taught her anything it’s that winter fucks her body up.

It had been so simple to justify.

Sure, she’s absolutely exhausted. Exhausted in a way that she can only relate to those last few months before her games, where she was training nearly sixteen hours straight. Yeah, it’s odd for her to want nothing more than to lay in bed for hours and hours a day– but she’s fucking tired. Winter always makes her tired, the cold always drains her. That’s not suspicious, right?

And sure, she’s starving. All the time. But again…it’s winter. Winter means burning more energy just to stay alive of course she’s absolutely starving. And well, when she gets sick when she goes too long without eating, it’s winter of course. She probably caught something from one of the girls. 

Even the body pain– that of course is due to the winter chill deep in her bones. Nothing more sinister, of course not. Everything that’s off about her recently well..things are off every winter after the war!

But…the one thing about Clove? She is not stupid. 

She is not stupid, but as Clove forces herself to look her reflection in the eye she notices the bleeding nails, the red ringed eyes, and the tears already trying to escape, she knows she is not stupid but she is very very very scared. 

The heart that was pounding in her chest to escape now feels so loud in her ears that it deafens her, the nails that now have no edge try to dig into her palms to ground her. She is unsure how she finds the ceramic ledge of the bath to sit on, but she somehow does. For a minute she thinks that she’s dying, that her brain is screaming for air with the way her vision blurs from the periphery inward (she always knew this would cause her death). It’s not until she can hear her own breathing, coming out in desperate, choking gasps that she realizes she’s crying.

Her hands don’t shake– her hands couldn’t shake, that would have meant her death– but as she tries to press the heels of her hands into her eyes she realizes that oh maybe they do as her body fails her in yet another way. 

She didn’t even have a mother. 

How could she be someone’s?

She doesn’t know how long she sits there on the ledge, how long her heart tries to run away from her.  It’s long enough that the skin of her cheeks run raw from the assault of tears, enough that the blood under her nails dries, long enough that her face is drained of any and all color. Her mind is both simultaneously empty and racing, as she barely processes which handle of the faucet to reach for. In her haze she manages to turn on the cold water, and her quivering hand can barely cup enough water to splash on her face. It’s barely enough to bring her back to reality, but it is enough to quell the stinging of her eyes. 

When she catches her appearance again, she almost doesn’t recognize herself. The angry red around her eyes, the stark lack of color even for her. Even her hair falls loosely in her eyes, plastered to her skin by the salt and tracks of her own tears. Looking at herself like this doesn’t even feel like she is seeing her own reflection.

Clove can’t help but think of her mother. 

Did her own mother cry herself raw, when she discovered her existence? Did she bite her nails to nubs, did she think Clove was her worst fear manifested?  Did she know that she’d be on her own within days, did she know not a person in the world was going to stand beside her for the next years of her life? Did she know that Clove was going to be her downfall, did she know that she was the only person in the world who would care if Clove lived or died?

Clove feels another tightening in her throat, another rush of warmth down her cheeks. She stares at herself, unblinking, as the tears continue. 

She knows she isn’t crying for herself, this time, but instead for fifteen year old Sevina Kentwell. The Little Girl, because she really was nothing more than a child, that was her mother. 

“You’re not a teenager.” Clove reminds herself, gripping the edge of the sink until her hands hurt. She is not a fifteen year old, she’s a twenty three year old woman. 

“You’re not alone, he won’t leave.” Yes, her father left her mother, but Cato would never. Could never, and would never. 

“I already won.” She tries, bringing her ice cold hand to her chest, desperately trying to regulate this meltdown before Cato gets home and finds her this way. “I won, I won, I won. I can’t die and leave it behind.” 

Even if she died, there was Cato. Cato, who no doubt, would do anything for even the theoretical baby they did not actually have yet. There was Cato. If something happened to him, well, there was Enobaria. Enobaria and then Glimmer and then Marvel and then, well, beyond that didn’t matter. 

“I won’t die. I won’t die. I won’t die.” Clove manifested, clenching her eyes shut as tightly as she could. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. ”

She catches herself off guard, her eyes snapping open as fast as the word slipped out. We. How quickly she’s shifted, how quickly she accepts that she’s not even alone in her own body anymore. She’ll never be alone again. 

Somehow, though, that doesn’t send her spiraling. It was never the child part that scared her. 

That wasn’t her fear, it was not the baby part that she was so frightened of. 

It was the fear of perpetuating a cycle of death and abandonment. It was the near guarantee that she will be a bad mother, with none to model herself after. 

Still, despite that near guarantee of her own impending failure, Clove catches the hint of a smile in her reflection. 

Sure, she may not be good at it, but Cato will be.  In the back of her mind she can still see the look on his face, half a decade ago after her games, when he absently mentioned how he imagined their children to look. 

Even now she herself can't help but wonder if she’ll see her own freckles on her son, or have a dark haired little girl to break up the sea of blondes and redheads that are the children of their friends. 

Hers. It’s her kid. Which, as scary as it is to stomach, is somehow a lot less frightening than she had ever expected. 

She’s normally so aware of her surroundings, hyper attune to any shift in the floor, to the point that nothing can surprise her. Somehow now, she is so in her head, that when she hears the kitchen door slam she practically jumps out of her skin

Clove can hear the heavy steps (stomps? Is he in a mood? What the fuck she’d normally be able to tell) as Cato climbs them two at a time, giving her quite literally just enough time to step into the hall to meet him at the same time he hits the top floor. 

“Was no one going to tell me that pink comes in multiple shades. Apparently saying I need it in pink doesn’t mean much when you’re buying something for toddler girls.” Cato mumbles, pulling out the little paper receipt and bringing it up to eye level. He squints, holding the little sheet a few inches from his face. “I got one..Carnation? And the other one…bubblegum. I thought they were the same color but I was corrected many many many times.” Cato rubs his hand on the back of his neck, heading in a quick right towards their room. “What time do we need to leave?”

Fuck. She was out of it today. Of course, they had to go to District One today (very soon actually) for the twins' first birthday party. Great. She’d feel fantastic after that train ride, for sure. Well damn, was she supposed to wait to tell him after now or-

She doesn’t hear him say her name again, truly locked into her own mind again, when his hand engulfing her shoulder brings her back to her body.

“Clove? Are you okay? We don’t have to go if you aren’t up to it, I know you’ve been really tired lately and it’s okay! We don’t have to-” His voice is just so soft, with concern that is not patronizing but truly genuine, and by the time she glances up to meet his eyes she can’t help but let the words just come out before she has a moment to process what she’s saying. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

For all Clove is not a crier, something in her snaps the second she looks up at him and sees the look of outright love in his pretty blue eyes. For all the times in her life she had been terrified of saying those exact words to him, she had never once expected the way he’d look at her like this. 

She doesn’t give him time to even react before she’s back in tears, fully pressing herself into his chest before he has the time to respond. Or rather, she misses his soft “...really?” when she burrows herself against him. She feels one hand on her back as she feels the other on her face, wiping away the streak of tears over her right cheek bone. That same hand tilts her face up so he can look down at her directly. 

“...are you okay?” Even with the hesitation in his voice Clove can’t miss the absolute joy barely hidden below the surface. As soon as she gives even the slightest nod, she watches as maybe the brightest smile she’s ever seen breaks across his face. It must be infectious, because she can’t help her own in return. 

“I’m okay. I’m really really okay.”  Clove promises, leaning her face into his hand, laughing just a little through her now obsolete tears. “You don’t seem surprised?”

“You don’t cry, I had to ask.” Not just that– Cato knew her better than even himself sometimes. He knew, more than absolutely anyone else, just how scared of this she was. “I don’t think we have any right to be shocked, Clove.” 

Fair enough. 

“It’s like…everything you ever wanted, right?” Clove uses her own hand to wipe the other side of her eyes, before slinking both of her arms around his neck, fully just letting him take the bulk of her weight. 

“Clove, I already have everything I wanted. This is just… beyond that.” It wasn’t a secret that yes, Cato had always imagined his children with Clove, even more so in the last couple of years. Even still they’d been through enough, Clove more than most. It wasn’t something he was going to push her on. “Do you know how long or-”

“Uh like twenty minutes ago-” Clove starts, audibly sighing and rubbing at her eyes when she realizes that's not quite what he meant. “Sorry. Just..I’m not thinking straight today. But no. Sometime between…December and now. Zero to Three months, I don’t actually know. There are…many..many many…many many..many many..many…many times this could have happened, so. We’ll find out.”

Cato’s hands both slide down to her waist, and he lifts her to his height with practiced ease before he kisses her in a way she isn’t sure he has in the seven years they’ve spent with each other, but that she hopes he replicates again and again. She laughs against his lips, as she brings her fingers to thread into his hair slightly, just toying with the base of his neck. 

“On second thought we don’t have to go..” Cato mumbles, barely even pulling away from her to talk, still so close that their nose and heads touched. 

“We have to go. Glimmer will kill us.” Clove sighs in response, but stays impossibly close to him. 

Cato lets go of her with audible annoyance, letting her feet hit the floor before he actually huffs. 

“Fine. But we’re only going because we need to make sure our kid has friends.”

She would be lying if she didn’t say it felt like warmth spread through her chest when she heard the word ours.

Later that evening, they’re standing in the corner of a pink glitter and balloon covered living room. He’s behind her, his arm around the front of her shoulders holding her flush to him, whispering in her ear silly jokes about how they will not be adding a glittery, heart covered, pink wall to their house for the sake of a birthday party next year. 

Between their own little jokes and her stifled giggles, she can’t help but watch their friends. Glimmer, who for the first time in her life freely accepts the swipe of icing on her nose from one of her children or the man she made them with, all the while smiling and laughing without a care in the world for the way it would affect her makeup or her dress size. Or Marvel, carrying around the girls who look nothing like him but look like everything in the world that he loves. 

It dawns on her then, that maybe the reason it is a lot less scary that it is her baby, is because it’s his too.

____________________________________________________________

“You’ve slowed down.” 

Clove quite literally jumps when she hears the voice from directly behind her, and if she didn’t know any better she most definitely would have yelped too, if she didn’t recognize that tone of dissatisfaction immediately.

“Oh for fucks sake Enobaria, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Clove pauses, coming to a full stop so she can bring her heart rate back down to earth. She pulls her head band down over her ears, now even colder without her own adrenaline to ward off the biting cold of late District Two winter. “It’s March, Enobaria, give me a break. It’s always hard to get back into it after the snow melts.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Clove.” Enobaria rolls her eyes as she catches up to her fully, grabbing her by the upper arm and pulling her over to the side, off the same path back to Victors’ Village they both take every day. 

The sense of Deja Vu is intense, and Clove swears for a minute she’s seventeen again, being pulled into the woods on her way back to the Academy on what Enobaria had always so lovingly called her “run of shame.”

“Are you still slutting yourself out, Clove, or did you come to your fucking senses?” Enobaria had truly hissed in her ear, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her forward with her nails in her skin.  “Don’t even answer that, I’m not as stupid as you think I am Clove. I know what you’re still doing.”

‘Still’, meaning in the past couple of months since Cato returned from the Seventy Second Hunger Games. Enobaria had, naively mind you,  assumed it was just a phase. Teenagers and their little hormones and all that. She figured it wouldn’t last that long, maybe a couple of weeks, as the novelty of victory wore off for Cato. 

Surely he would have a whole crowd of girls after him, but she didn’t think Clove was dumb enough to be one of them. Unfortunately, apparently, she was very very wrong, judging by the way Clove showed up at the academy every morning in clothes that were far too fine to be Academy issued and far too big to be her own. 

Nevermind the fact that some mornings she could literally see her seventeen year old mentee cooking breakfast across the street, playing housewife when she should be playing future victor. 

“I’m not slutting myself out, it’s just Cato-”

“Shut it. I always told you I wasn’t going to let what happened to your mother happen to you. And do you know why, Clove? Because I will kill you and Cato both before you ever step in that arena, got it? Don’t fuck this up for yourself.” Enobaria didn’t even give her time to respond, before she let go of her arm and truly pushed her forward, watching as she stumbled the first few feet before nearly falling to the ground. “Get to training.”

“I’m serious, Clove. You usually get back to the house by nine eighteen if you do six miles. You’re not making it back until Nine thirty. I know you aren’t at seven, you always said the number seven freaked you out, and frankly  you’re not fast enough to do eight at that pace. Never have been.” Enobaria narrows her eyes, giving her solid full body once over, practically an inspection for any obvious injuries. “You aren’t eighteen, Clove. You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay for things to be different, but don’t push yourself to the point you’re hurting. Six may be a lot for you right now, don’t risk it. It’s winter, I know everything hurts you, Clove. But that's a significant time change, I’m just a little concerned–”

“‘Baria. I’m not hurt. I promise. It’s just the beginning of the warm season, and it hurts a little bit but nothing that bad–” Clove tries, putting her hands on top of Enobaria’s wrists as she looks her over. Enobaria clearly means the concern with love, nothing less, nothing with anger.

“It’s not just that, Clove, your form has changed, you seem hesitant and skeptical when you hit the ground, you look hurt. You can tell me if you’re hurt, we can change something, just tell me. You’ve been through a lot, Clove.” Enobaria offers softly, bringing an uncharacteristically gentle hand up to Clove’s upper arm where she rubs random circles. 

Clove goes to defend herself and her body when she is taken off guard by Enobaria’s observation and gentleness, narrowing her eyes as she gives her mentor a once over. “...why are you paying such close attention to me?”

“It’s my job, Clove. It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re in the best condition I can get you in. I always watch. And I know something’s changed, I know what they did to you Clove, and we can modify things to make sure you’re not going to get hurt–”  Enobaria insists, once again leading her back up the path to their homes. She’s whispering, because if there is one thing about a Career victor that they cannot seem to shake after everything, is that their public reputation matters. They make it to the steps of Enobaria’s front porch where she eases them both down to the bottom step where many of their longest conversations in Clove’s life have occurred. 

Once upon a time someone overhearing this conversation would have been catastrophic. 

“Oh..Enobaria.” Clove whispers softly as she realizes this is her showing her love. This is how they always showed their concern– tough love.  She is gently grabbing at Enobaria’s upper arm now, giving the lightest little squeeze.. “I’m not hurt, not any more than usual. It’s not that. I know i’m slower than I used to be–”

“What’s wrong, then, Clove? It’s not a big deal, we can fix whatever it is.” Enobaria tries, doing her best to relay genuine concern rather than passing judgment. It’s been her sole responsibility, to keep Clove healthy, for twenty entire years now. 

And yes, maybe she had some guilt over not being able to keep her safe during the war, and needed to make up for it somehow. 

“...I didn’t want to tell you.” Clove whispers, and when Enobaria looks up at her she swears her blood runs genuinely cold at the fear (and tears) in the younger girl’s eyes. “You’re going to be so disappointed in me, Enobaria, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Clove, I’m not disappointed it’s okay to be hurt, it’s not your fault–” She immediately tries to ensure, holding Clove by the shoulders before the freckled girl turns to the side, looking at the sky to blink back her tears before they can freeze to the pale expanse of her skin. 

“I don’t even know how to tell you, you’re going to hate me. I’m so sorry, Enobaria, please I didn’t mean to disappoint you–”

“Clove, I’ll never hate you, now what’s wrong.”

Clove swallows the lump in her throat, before she rises from the step, taking a few steps forward out of Enobaria’s reach. She wipes at her face with the sleeves of her coat before she unzips it. Clove turns to the side as she fingers the hem of her– Cato’s– shirt, before she tugs just the bottom up. 

Enobaria raises an eyebrow, eyeing Clove’s incredibly toned and extremely flat lower abdomen. “Are you trying to show off the abs of a sixteen year old or–”

“What? No? You don’t see it?” Clove glances down, confused as to how she could miss it. Okay, maybe there is absolutely nothing to miss, with years and years of intense workouts to thank, but Clove most certainly notices a difference when she looks at herself in the mirror. “Please don’t make me say it, I can’t say it to you.”

“Say what Clove?”

“Enobaria…I’m..well… No, baria, I can’t say it, I can’t watch you hate me, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Clove rambles, shaking her head rapidly to insist she did not mean to bring such shame on herself. “You’re the only person I’ve ever been afraid of disappointing, I’m so sorry. But please, don’t kill me, I want this.”

“Clove what are you talking about–” Enobaria nearly rolls her eyes, but something about the tears, the fear, and the now dropped shirt click all the pieces into place and she actually gasps as her brown eyes go wide. She feels her lip fall so softly into a sigh, and she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it as she opens her arms to her. “Oh. Clove, honey, it’s okay.”

Clove visibly hesitates to come towards her, frozen like prey deciding if she has a chance to run before she is torn to pieces. That's new, too, that in Fight or Flight her instinct has become flight. “....are you mad at me?”

“Just come here.” She offers one last time, gesturing her forward with her hands. “I’m not mad, Clove. You just look terrified.”

“You always said you’d kill me.” Clove explains warily, one foot planted behind her as if she is ready to haul it across the street to her home as fast as she can. “Do you still want to kill me?”

“Clove, you were a teenager. That was the best threat I had, and it worked. You knew I was capable of it.” She offers with exasperation, dropping her offer of any sort of physical comfort. “You’re not a little girl anymore. I don’t control what you do. I don’t have to worry about getting you in and out of an arena now, you’re an adult.”

“...but are you disappointed?” 

“No, Clove. I’m not disappointed. I’m a little disappointed that you seem actually scared of me right now, but that’s my own fault.” She frowns, dropping her hands completely to her side to take away any threat Clove could be left to perceive. “I’m not going to hurt you at all, Clove. I promise.”

Clove lets her stance relax, and hesitantly takes a step closer to her mentor and practically sister at this point. “I just… I want this, Enobaria. And I want that to be okay. But I also know it killed my mom and..”

“You’re allowed to want to be a mother Clove. You’re not upsetting anyone. You’re an adult. You survived a war. You have absolutely earned and deserve whatever life you could possibly want.” Enobaria cocks her head, and against her better judgment just steps forward to pull Clove into a hug whether she wants it or not. “Clove. Being pregnant, having you.. That isn’t what killed your mom. The games killed her..Snow killed her. It wasn’t you. It was never you. You were never the reason your mother died, and I am so sorry anyone has ever told you differently.”

If Clove’s grandmother weren’t already dead and rotting, she sure would be after today, Enobaria would have seen to that. 

Clove’s only response is a weak nod as she buries her face in Enobaria’s hair, needing more than she realized to hear those exact words. “You’re really not mad?”

“Of course not, Clove.  I promise. You’ll be a good mom. You already take care of everyone else.” Enobaria assures her, bringing her hand up to run over the length of Clove’s long dark hair where it’s come out of the pony tail. “When are you supposed to have it?”

“September.” Clove mumbles into her hair, relaxing until Enobaria gently pushes her back so she can look at her with a quizzical expression as the calculator runs in her brain. 

“...you’re four months pregnant right now? Were you planning on ever telling me?”

Clove nods, brushing her fly aways out of her face with the sleeve of her coat. “I only found out last month. We haven’t told anyone. You were first on the list though, I just wanted to wait a little longer. “

Enobaria just nods, looking her over with the new lens. It made sense now, why Clove seemed so hesitant and careful, and of course slower. “...you’re four months pregnant and you still look like that?”

She gives another nod, the slightest smirky smile taking over her face. “They said it’s ‘cause it’s my only baby. And because I have worked so so hard for such a strong set of muscles in my torso. Thanks for that.”

“Oh good. I guess the Cato genes didn’t kick in then. Not that would fuck you up.”

“Thanks for the reassurance, Baria.” Clove laughs, anyway.

_____________________________________________________________

“Well aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine today, Clove!”

“Can you shut the fuck up, Sparkles?” Clove snaps from her end of the couch, elbows on the arm rest with both her hands on her face, holding up the weight of her head. 

“Oh what an absolute joy we’re going to have together!” Glimmer rolls her eyes playfully from the opposite end of the chair, not even bothering to look over at her truly miserable friend, instead content with focusing on the intricacies of the floral embroidery she is adding to the fabric in her hands. “Remind me again why I'm here if you’re going to be a bitch to me?”

“Because.” Clove groans, stretching out one leg towards Glimmer’s side. “I made one joke that I was just going to have this baby in the bath tub and now Cato won’t let me be alone. He’s just being a scared little pussy bitch baby.”

“Ah. Right. I’m babysitting you.” Glim taunts. “You know, we could just go outside and enjoy the pool with the fathers of our children and my daughters. Cato definitely doesn’t have a shirt on and we both know how you feel about that so…”

“I am not going outside like this.” Clove hisses, shifting yet again in her seat, searching for even the slightest relief of her permanent discomfort at this point in her life. “Cato is safer if I can’t see him or get a straight line to him. My center of gravity may suck but he’s big and an easy target–”

“Clove I’m sure the pool would feel so good, it’s like being weightless, and it’s nice and cool–”

“Have you ever been excessively pregnant in the middle of July? With a giant fucking baby? No? That's what I thought.” She snips at her friend, before once again shifting her legs back and forth over each other. 

“No, but I had two babies at the same time. So I think I get the discomfort part.” Glimmer sets down her handiwork, craning her upper body to look at her incredibly uncomfortable friend. “Go ahead. Just let it out.”

“What?”

“Just say it. Whatever’s on your mind. It sucks and you look absolutely miserable. So. Just…let it out. Say whatever you have to say. Complain. Whine. Whatever. You’re miserable and we’re alone. Just let it out. But remember. I grew two. And I can out complain you.” 

Glimmer clasps her hands in her lap respectfully, giving her full and undivided attention to Clove.

Clove doesn’t even bother to hesitate, being given a free stage to complain to somehow who was not going to take any of her slights personally. She sighs loudly before beginning. 

“I fucking hate this. This sucks. I’m so fucking tired. All the time. But I don’t even get to sleep because this kid just moves all. Fucking. Night! Sleeps all day but then it’s like gym class in there the second I go to sleep! Not to mention I can’t even get comfortable, it’s like she’s crushing my spine in here. Or he. Whatever. She’s crushing my spine, he’s crushing my spine, whoever it is is absolutely fucking my back–” 

“Okay, pause, do you want suggestions as we go, or when you’re done?”

“Glimmer. Just let me talk. You can keep the joys of motherhood talk until the end.”

“That's not what I was going to say, but okay, keep going.”

“Where was I? Oh! The pain. I am in agony. All the time. I can’t go in a hot bath because i’ll boil him in there, but holy fuck does this hurt. Sometimes it hurts so bad I can’t breathe, Glimmer. It’s like every joint in my body is being ripped open especially here-” Clove runs her hand over her upper back. “I just hurt all the time and I never want to do this again. I can’t. I just hope this kid is a boy so Cato won’t want me to do it again–”

“Has he said he wants it to be a boy, Clove?” Glimmer raises an eyebrow with disbelief, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “He seems pretty happy with the girls, I don’t think he’d be that upset either way. You know you can find out–”

“No he’s never said it but I assume that’s what he’d prefer. And I never want to do this ever again.” Clove absolutely insists, twisting back to her other side still entirely unable to get even the slightest bit comfortable. “Oh, and I’m fucking hungry all the time. That’s great. All I fucking want is a sandwhich, all day every day. But I can’t even have one. Because I can’t have that sandwich meat. I’d actually slit someone’s throat for a turkey and cheese sandwich right now, Glimmer. I would sit and eat mozzarella cheese balls with a spoon, and I don’t even like Mozzarella cheese, but I can’t have it so I want it. I hope this kid knows that it is SPECIAL.”

“...are you done?” Glimmer prods gently, turning to face Clove before she gently pats the couch in front of her. “Come here.”

“Yeah, I actually feel a lot better after that.” Clove admits, before she actually scowls at Glimmer. “Come where? You’re not messing with my hair right now..”

“Put your head right here, if you let me touch you, I can help.” Glimmer offers, once again touching the couch in front of her. “As long as you don’t bite my hands off…”

“I don’t know, Glimmer-”

“Clove! Lay down! Right now.” Glimmer insists, actually just reaching across the couch and grabbing her by the hand before pulling her down practically into her lap. “Lay on your..left side.”

“My side? I’m not a side sleeper-”

“You are now, lay down.” Glimmer rolls her eyes, before she leans just a little bit forward over Clove. “You probably hurt extra because you’re literally letting her crush your back and everything in it. It helps a lot to put all that weight to the front. Now two things, the first one I’m going to touch your back okay?” 

Clove nods as Glimmer’s fingers find the small of her back, and all she does is press in before Clove lets out an actual soft gasp of relief. 

“See? Now, wrap your hands under your stomach, okay?” Glimmer instructs kindly, before putting her hands on top of clothes and pulling up towards her face just a little. “See? It takes all the weight off-”

“OH my God.” Clove breathes in very clear relief, some of the tension truly melting off of her face. “Okay, scratch what I said, you’re an angel, Glimmer.”

“You could just tell Cato to do this, it really will help–”

“Oh absolutely not. I never want him to touch me ever again in my fucking life. I hate him for this. It’s his fault.” Clove snaps right back to her anger, but doesn’t dare flinch too much out of Glimmer’s very intentionally placed hands. “Seriously, If he ever tries to touch me again I’ll cut every one of his fingers off. He’s lucky I let him sleep in the same bed, but he has to stay on the complete opposite side. Seriously, I’m not built for this like you are. That asshole tries to take pictures of me, too, and I about broke his hand yesterday morning by ripping the camera out of it.”

“Hmm, that's unlike you.” Glimmer teases, but there is a softness in her voice that is not quite patronizing but not dreamlike either. “What do you mean like I am?”

“I don’t know Glimmer, you seemed so happy, and you were just so glowy and beautiful and you just were so peaceful and grateful and I feel fucking horrific. I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive another six weeks of this.” Clove mumbles, though her eyes are closed and with her head against Glimmer’s leg there is a lot less malice in her tone. “I’m not you.”

“Oh…Clove, I'm sorry. I don’t think I was very honest with you.” Glimmer admits, glancing down at her friend. “Clove, I cried every. Single. Night. I’d wait until Marvel was asleep, and then I’d go sit in the girls room sometimes for hours and just…cry.  I was terrified, like legitimately terrified. Every single night. For hours. Do you know why I was okay with not telling anyone the twins were twins? Because I was convinced one of them wasn’t going to make it. Aurelia, specifically. She was always so much smaller, always. I didn’t want to tell anyone in case she didn’t and then no one would ever know. And looking back, I can’t imagine pretending she didn’t exist. It would kill me. There's pictures of me, too, every single week, and I can’t look at them either. They’re hidden so I won’t burn them, because I can’t see myself that way even now. No, I was not in as much pain as you are, I know that. But I was scared. I was so so so scared.”

“Glimmer, I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“No, Clove. You should know.” Glimmer insists, shaking her head briskly back and forth. “It’s not fair to you to think that you’re experiencing it wrong. Because you aren’t. I was terrified. Everything else you mentioned…I get some of it. The reason it moves more at night when you’re trying to sleep is because when you walk around all day you like rock her to sleep, so when you lay down it’s not keeping her asleep anymore. If you talk to it, that might help–”

“What do you mean talk to it, it can’t hear me, Glimmer?”

“...of course he can hear you, Clove. Don’t you like..talk to him?”

“Well, no, I didn’t think he could hear through everything between us.” Clove shrugs slightly, trying not to let any of the guilt she suddenly felt slip into her face. Add that as another check as to why she’s an unfit mother.

“...there is literally nothing between you. It’s quite literally as close to you as another human could ever possibly be. The girls didn’t know their names, because they obviously couldn’t differentiate who was who, but when I didn’t know which one was doing something I'd just call them sis, literally just sis, and they did respond to that.” Glimmer can’t help her smile at the memory of her tiny girls in the earliest days of their lives. “They knew when I talked, and they knew Marvel too, because he used to lay in bed and talk to them for hours. I sometimes wonder how they became such chatty little girls, they use real words now, but it’s not actually a question. They get it from him. Now they wake me up with these little hands on my face going ‘Hi mama’ over and over until I wake up. Sometimes I pretend to be sleeping a few extra minutes just because their little voices are so damn cute.”

“You’re just meant to be a mom, Glimmer, that’s what I mean. You just talk about them like that.” Clove explains, running a hand over her face in exhaustion. “How do you just love like that? So freaking effortlessly. I’m fucking terrified I won’t know how to love it.”

“...because that’s just what happens, Clove. It just happens. I promise, Clove. It is effortless. I’m not worried about you not loving your kid, because you will. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do, not having one, but loving one.” Glimmer promises, with such a soft edge in her voice Clove feels like she is being talked to not by her friend but by a mother. “I do think you need to be kinder to yourself. Let Cato help you, Clove, that's why he’s there.”

“No, I can’t tell him.”

“Tell him what, Clove? That you’re uncomfortable? That's a given. You’re tiny and you are sharing your body with another human. You went through things no one can understand, of course you’re uncomfortable.”

Clove rolls further on her side, not wanting to face any passing judgment from Glimmer. “I don’t want him to see me as weak, Glimmer.”

“OH stop RIGHT there, Clove. He would NEVER. I mean that, never in the entirety of his life, is he going to see you that way. I’m sure of it. I will never forget the months he worried about you, and weak was never a word he associated with you. He thinks you walk on water, there's not anyone who’s ever going to be stronger in his eyes than you Clove. I know that without a doubt. He will never see you as weak.”

“But this is different, Glimmer. I should just be good at this, too.” Clove insists half heartedly, dropping the hand under Glimmer’s but actually letting out a whine at the immediate loss of relief followed by the familiar tugging ache. 

“You need to let him help you. He wants to. Besides, he’s got big hands. Make him hold up the baby so you can sleep, you deserve it.” Glimmer promises, gently brushing over Clove’s upper arm. 

“You know, you mentioned how Marvel likes to talk. Back, you know, when we were in the Capitol? Sometimes they’d just drop me back off in this cell and I'd be just…i’d be bleeding and I was in so much pain I couldn't even see straight. And it could be the middle of the night, it could be the morning, I never knew we didn’t know time, but he would sit there and talk to me through the wall for hours. I don’t even know about what. But I think he was afraid that if I fell asleep I wouldn’t wake back up, and so he would keep me just awake enough…he’s good, Glimmer. I know you two had it rough, but he’s good.”

“I know he is. They both are, somehow.” Glimmer gives the softest smile in return, brushing her now free hand over Clove’s hair over and over. Clove isn’t looking up at her, her eyes closed in contentment and genuine relief, allowing her to actually relax. “...and that's why I'm ignoring the fact I can see them throwing my sixteen month olds back and forth in the pool right now.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Cato….Cato…babe…Cato.” Clove nudges impatiently, which soon turns to grabbing his shoulder and shaking slightly. “Cato…Cato!”

“Hmm?” His voice is muffled by the pillow where he buries his face, not even bothering to lift his head from the dead of his sleep. All Clove can really see of him is the broad expanse of his shirtless back, and the mess of his hair facing upwards on the pillow. Even his arms, where they are buried under the pillow to hold up his face, do not move with her insistence. 

“You better learn to wake the fuck up when this kid gets here, I’m not going to be the only one losing sleep.” Clove warns, but fishes his hand out from under the pillow and brings it to her side. “He’s moving a lot right now.”

“Could it be because you’re talking to him at-” Cato raises half his head, just enough so he could see the bedside clock “...two in the morning, Clovey?”

“He was moving before that, too, Cato.” Clove murmurs, moving the dead weight of Cato’s hand around until he relents and turns on his side to face her. “Feel him.” She absolutely insists, leaning back on her hands to prop herself up. “Or her, I guess. I think he’s a boy though. Just a feeling.”

“I think so, too.” Cato admits, and with a sly smile he slides his hand under her (his) shirt, just to feel the smoothness of her skin under his fingertips. There was something about it, even in the dead of the night, about Clove’s little body engulfed by his clothes. He was, as always, obsessed with her, a fact he never let her forget. 

Even if she insisted it’s because nothing else fit her– bold, considering this still looked like a dress that hit her knees. 

“We need to figure out what we’re gonna name this baby, Cato. We’ve got a month if we’re lucky.” Clove put her hand on top of his, guiding it around to the most opportune place that their kid seemed to be hanging out at any given moment. 

“Well you rejected naming him Cato so-”

“Absolutely not, your ego is bad enough, I do not want to live with two Cato Hadleys.” Clove warned, but the soft look in her eyes betrayed anything but annoyance. She strums her fingers on top of his gently, giving them a little soft squeeze. “I love you, you know.”

“I know. You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t.” Cato acknowledges, shifting his head over to lay on her other hand. “I know it’s not easy, It’s been a lot on you. I love you, and somehow I love you more every day, even when you’re threatening to cut off my hands.”

“Well I kind of need you to have hands now, so you’re safe.” Clove teases, but brushes her fingers over the mess of his hair. “You know, I’m going to do all this work and it’s going to come out looking just like you.”

“Hey, I did some work too-”

“Like five minutes of work nine months ago.”

“That’s cold, it was way more than five minutes.”

“Okay, eight minutes.” Clove can’t quite lean down to kiss him, so she settles for squeezing his hand instead. “I’m kidding. You know that. I wouldn’t survive this without you, and I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.”

“I know, babe. And I never forget that.”

She huffs impatiently as their child has seemingly decided it’s no longer time to play now that Cato’s been woken up, but the reason why hits her like bricks to her chest and the softest little “oh” comes out first. 

“Keep talking to him.” She softly demands of him, holding his hand to her while she so carefully shifts to lay on her side to face him.

“Huh?”

“He stopped when you started talking. He knows you. Keep talking to him, so I can sleep.”

“Are you serious? What should I say?”

“Do I even look like I’m slightly kidding? Goodnight, Cato. Bond with your child.” 

[ladykailitha]

In the Midnight Hour Part 12

Just one more part after this. I’m sad to see it go. It’s been a lot of fun. It’s also the longest story I’ve written for this fandom. Thank you all so much for following this story and all your comments and tags have made me so happy. :D

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

*

The next day Steve made sure that Eddie’s visitors were in small groups only. He got a lot of flack for that, but Steve didn’t care. He explained that with Eddie having to write down what he wanted to say having too many people would overwhelm him.

They grumbled but conceded the point.

The first ones in were Dustin and Robin. Steve was starting small and working his way up. Wayne was at the door, making sure everyone got their turn. Ten minutes each.

Eddie had gotten a large poster board and wrote: MY HEROES!! Causing Robin and Dustin to laugh breaking the tension almost immediately.

“Steve’s the real hero,” Dustin said coming up and giving Eddie a careful hug.

Eddie shook his head and pulled out his notebook. “Steve broke me, you guys put me back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty.”

Steve protested. “Hey!”

Robin giggled. “It’s true though.”

Eddie wrote: “Grateful.”

Steve’s expression softened. “I wish there had been a less violent way to save you.”

Eddie wrote: “Me too.”

“Doesn’t matter how it happened,” Dustin said. “You’re back. You’re alive.” He lifted up Eddie’s hand gently. “Will you be able to play?”

“Doc says yes,” Steve said for him. “It’s the voice they’re most worried about.”

Eddie nodded.

“Well I, for one, am glad you’re back,” Robin said.

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then wrote “Why’s that?”

Robin glanced over at Steve with a feral grin.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh no. Don’t you dare.”

Eddie and Dustin looked back and forth in confusion.

“What?” Dustin asked, saving Eddie the question.

“All the moping and whining about not having enough time with Eddie to really get to know him,” she said with a wink. “If you know what I mean.”

Dustin frowned. “Well, we all felt Steve’s love for Eddie.”

Robin grinned. “I’m not just talking about love, kiddo.”

Dustin shrugged. “So what if Steve likes guys? Are you guys homophobic or something?”

Robin and Eddie both turn and look at him eyes wide. And then they look at each before bursting out into laughter.

“No, genius child,” Robin crowed. “We’re gay. It’s a little hard to be homophobic.”

Dustin screwed up his nose. “Oh...you’re biphobic!”

Steve burst out laughing at the shocked faces of his friends. He rubbed the top of Dustin’s head. “It’s not like that, bud. They’re trying to say in the most round about way that I’m in love with Eddie. Like, love love.” He made gesture over Dustin’s head, a cutting motion across his throat as he mouthed the words, ‘He’s too young!’

Dustin’s face cleared. “Oh!” He looked between Eddie and Steve. “And do you love love Steve back?”

Eddie blushed and shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his reddening cheeks. Steve’s breath caught in his chest as Eddie nodded.

“Yeah?”

Eddie nodded again.

Steve leaned over and kissed his lips gently. “Good to hear it.”

There was a knock on the door. Their ten minutes was up.

Dustin grinned. “Don’t you be hogging him, Steve. You can kiss his lights out off after everyone has had a chance to talk to him, k?”

Steve blushed. “I promise.”

Dustin followed Robin out.

“The next group is Nancy, Jonathan, Mike and Will,” Steve murmured. “You haven’t met the Byers brothers, yet. But I think you’ll love Will.”

Eddie grinned.

The four of them shuffled in and Nancy immediately ran over and gave Eddie the biggest hug. Eddie’s blush deepened as he hurriedly wrote something down.

“Don’t worry, I’m gay.” And he held it up over Nancy’s head.

Jonathan laughed. Will on the other hand looked shocked.

“Wait,” he murmured. “You are?”

Mike looked over at Will in confusion.

Nancy stood up. “Hold up, before we get too far off topic. Introductions need to be made.”

Steve laughed. “Eddie Munson, Jonathan and Will Byers.”

Eddie tilted his head and grinned. “Us freaks should stick together.” He pointed at Will and then back to himself.

“In more ways than one,” Will agreed. “My ‘death’ started this whole thing and your ‘death’ ended it.”

Eddie’s grin got bigger. “Hell yeah!” he wrote.

Jonathan smiled and then wagged his finger at Eddie. “Now, no converting him to metal. I have spent too many years keeping him on the alternative rock scene to have you go and mess this up on me.”

Eddie let out a wheezing laugh. “No promises,” he wrote.

Mike’s face fell. “I heard about your voice, man. Does this mean that you won’t be able to DM anymore?”

Eddie shrugged.

“He’s working with a speech therapist,” Steve said.

“I have a lot of those!” Eddie wrote with a wink. “Two physical therapists, one for my body and one for hands. Then even another for all the trauma.”

Nancy picked up his hand, the tips still bandaged. “You went through so much. That’s not say that you had it better or worse,” she quickly amended when Jonathan, Will, and Mike glared at her. “This town took so much from you. I just hope it doesn’t take away your ability to do the things you love.”

The three of them softened. Because she was right. Despite what everyone had gone through, it was Eddie and Max that had the most taken from them. And it wasn’t fair.

“Tell me about taking out the gates,” Eddie wrote when the silence got too awkward.

Mike and Will launched into how bad ass it was and how cool Jonathan and Nancy had been in helping Joyce and Hopper take down the gates.

Far too soon another knock came on the door.

Nancy gave Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze. “You take care of Steve for me, okay?”

Eddie looked up at her in shock and Steve looked away. She just patted Steve’s cheek and walked out, the three boys following close behind. Will stopped at the doorway and looked back at Eddie and Steve. Their foreheads were touching as Steve whispered something to Eddie.

Will smiled. Hope really did spring eternal.

“One last group and then you rest,” Steve said. “Okay?”

Eddie nodded. Steve could tell that he was already getting tired, but he hoped that this last group would be the easiest on Eddie.

Lucas wheeled in Max with Erica and El following close behind.

“You look like shit, Munson,” Max said.

Eddie rasped, “How would you know?” Hopefully loud enough for her to hear.

Max laughed. “Because you always look like shit. Unlike Steve who always looks good.”

Lucas gasped. “Hey!”

Max and El giggled as Erica rolled her eyes.

“Steve...” Erica whined. “Lucas and Max are being gross again.”

El shook her head. “I think they’re cute.”

Steve smiled at Erica. “Eh...I’m with El on this one. Sorry, kiddo. Maybe you’ll understand when you’re older.”

Erica sighed dramatically. “That’s what everyone says!”

Eddie grinned at her. “Well I think it’s gross too.”

Every head snapped his direction.

“All kissing that is between other people is gross,” he rasped with a wink. “It’s only cute when it’s me and my boyfriend.”

Steve blushed and looked away but every eye was still on Eddie.

“Steve’s cute all the time,” El said.

Lucas, Erica, and Max all turned to her in shock.

“Oops,” El murmured. “Dad and Joyce said it’s not nice to out someone without their permission. I’m sorry, Steve.”

Steve blushed. “It’s okay, you’ll get there. It’s just that a lot people are against people of the same gender being a couple. So it could be dangerous, okay?”

El cocked her head to the side. “I understand now. Thank you.”

“So you’re the one with super powers,” Eddie whispered. “Thanks for the assist down there.”

El smiled brightly. “Me and Uncle Wayne make a great team!”

Eddie mouthed ‘Uncle?’ to Steve who just grinned.

“It was sooo boring,” Erica complained. “There was no ‘Omen’ level shit or anything cool. Just El with her eyes closed and Mrs Henderson standing by with a hose and a kiddie pool.”

Steve sighed. “Well I, for one, am grateful nothing exciting happened here at the hospital during that fight.”

Lucas hugged his little sister. “Me, too.”

Erica rolled her eyes but snuggled against him anyway.

There was a knock on the door.

“All right,” Steve said. “Times up for today. He just wanted to see everyone and make sure everyone was okay. You guys can come visit him all you want next week, give his voice a chance to recover, okay?”

They nodded and quietly shuffled out.

“Come on,” Steve said. “I’ll massage your hand while you lie down.”

Eddie laid down and held out his hand.

“I think it was too soon for all this,” Steve murmured as began to kneed the palm of Eddie’s hand. “But I wasn’t going to say no. Not when everyone mourned you and you being so anxious about them. Mentally it was mutually beneficial. But I know it took a lot out of you physically. Your voice, your hand. I worry that you over did it.”

Eddie smiled gently and let his body slow drift off to sleep.

Steve smoothed the hair out Eddie’s face. “You beautiful thing. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Part 13

Tag List: @swimmingbirdrunningrock @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @grtwdsmwhr @chaoticlovingdreamer  @savory-babby @thequeenrainacorn  @anzelsilver @estrellami-1 @steddieassheg0es @currently-steddiebrainrot @gregre369  @steddie-there @clumsywriter @babbler1202 

[dracolilhoe]

!!!TEMPTAION UPDATE!!!

Important Update: Temptation (Severus Snape x Y/N)

Hi everyone,

I wanted to let you know that I’ll be removing "Temptation" from Tumblr and moving it permanently to Wattpad. I’ve decided to do a complete rewrite because I’m not entirely happy with how the story is currently unfolding. I’m excited to dive into this new version and hope you’ll enjoy it even more.

You can read the original version on below, and I appreciate all the support you’ve given me so far. Thank you for your understanding and patience as I work on this rewrite. <3

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Check me out on Wattpad

Original Version Below

CHAPTER 1

A/N: Mentions of Death and Suicide

Words: 725

August 21st, 1993 8:30 pm

Death. It's always been a topic that has intrigued me. Nobody really knows what happens when you die, but I've always wondered what it would feel like. What would it feel like if I drowned...what would it feel like if I was tortured...what would it feel like if my body just offered itself up as bait?

My father, Gareth, shot himself on my birthday in 1979. I had just turned 11 and was on summer break.

Honestly, it was the best birthday present ever.

I've never seen my mother in such pain when we found him.

SIDE NOTE: I hated seeing my mother upset. She was my everything.

I remember we had a "girl's day", a day when my mom and I spent time together. We were in the car pulling into the driveway and as we walked up the stairs to the front door we saw a note:

My sweet Evaline,

Don't come inside. I don't want you to see this.

Yeah...my mom went inside.

She made me sit on the steps of the porch and wait for her to come back. She looked so broken when she came and sat next to me. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her hands were shaking and coated in blood.

After my father's passing, we held his funeral in London, his hometown. Afterward, my mother decided to sell our family home and moved us to a small apartment in Little Venice (London). She said she wanted a new beginning, free from the reminders of our past.

A load of bullshit if you ask me.

August 22nd, 1993 3:00 pm

My mother always tried to hide the fact that our family was broken. She didn't do a very good job. She would always try to get me out of the house and away from my father.

SIDE NOTE: They only got married because of me. I was just an accident. Nobody had to tell me. It was obvious.

My mother was hopelessly in love with him, but he only wanted to use her because she was, as he like to put it, "appealing to the eye". But me, he hated me. Everything I did always seemed to just piss him off. I could never do anything right. It didn't matter how hard I tried or how much effort I put in.

SIDE NOTE: He used to hit and throw things at me and my mom, especially when he was drunk. Which he almost always was.

August 23rd, 1993 8:00 pm

His death never did sit right with me. It just didn't make sense. It didn't matter that I hated him I always wondered "Why would he kill himself?" Looking back I remember he always used to be gone for days or even weeks at a time.

I wonder why...

August 24th, 1993 10:46 am

Since I was of age I started at Hogwarts. One day I ended up getting a letter from my grandma.

My mother killed herself.

To nobody's surprise, she couldn't handle the pain.

SIDE NOTE: I cried for hours. At the age of eleven losing both of my parents took a toll on me. I wanted to die. Even if I hated my father. I still loved him.

August 25th, 1993 11:00am

My grandma got sick a few months ago. She didn't make it. I remember it like it was yesterday.

SIDE NOTE: May 6th, 1993 6:00 pm. That was when I got the phone call.

I was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and working on a painting. I heard the phone ring and got up to answer it. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Just so I could pretend she was alive.

August 26th, 1993 12:00 pm

I always relied on my grandma, since she was my only family left. But now she was gone. I was broke as hell. No job, no money, and could barely afford the apartment. That was until I got the letter.

THE LETTER (June 20th, 1993):

Dear Miss Evadne,

I'm very sorry to hear about your grandmothers passing. My condolences. I understand that you are looking for a job, and I have a proposal. Unfortunately, Professor Sprout has decided to retire, and, as I understand it, you had a real knack for Herbology. If you are interested in teaching this year please write back.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Well, I'm broke, basically homeless, and in need of a job. So what could I do other than say...

yes.

CHAPTER 2

A/N: (h/c)=Your hair color

Words: 1565

August 30th, 1993 7:30 am

I toss and turn in my bed, but it's no use I can't fall back asleep. I sigh and glance at my alarm clock. "Shit!" I exclaim, realizing I overslept.

I throw off the tan bed sheets covering my body and feel the cold morning air send shivers down my spine. I quickly sit up and rush to the bathroom. "Merlin, how could I be so foolish!" I say as I begin my morning routine.

8:00 am

I make a mad dash to my wardrobe and choose the first outfit I lay my eyes on. A raven turtleneck, a dark green skirt, and raven stockings.

I run my fingers through my (h/c) hair making sure the small curls aren't knotted. "Okay," I say as I glance at myself in the mirror, "this isn't that flawed. I suppose." I sigh as I turn around and continue to gaze at my body. I should probably change... This isn't that flattering on me... "Screw it. I don't have time for this." I mutter as I walk toward my kitchen.

I grab a slice of bread and put it in the toaster. I strode over to the hallway closet and put on my jet-black cloak and black boots. I make my way back to the kitchen, taking my purse off the counter and placing it onto my shoulder.

I glance up noticing the toast is ready, I grab it and quickly apply some butter. "Damnit," I mutter as I realize I sliced my finger a bit. I sigh and walk over to my living room. I'll worry about that later...

I eat my toast as I take a handful of floo powder and step into the fireplace. "Headmaster office," I say and drop the floo powder.

8:30 am

I stumbled out of the fireplace and look up to see the familiar office of the headmaster. "Ah, Miss Evadne. On time as usual." the headmaster says as he steals a glance at the clock on his desk. "Hello Professor," I say as I brush the dust off my skirt.

"As we discussed before your arrival, Professor McGonagall will be helping you settle in before the students arrive for the start of term," Dumbledore says motioning toward McGonagall. "Hello dear," she says giving me a warm smile. "pleasure to see you again."

I return her gesture and give a small wave. "Well, Miss Evadne, I trust you will have a great start of term. I will see you at the welcoming feast this Wednesday," he says as he walks further into his office.

"Well, come along dear," Minerva says as she places a hand on my shoulder and guides me out of the headmaster's office. "Pardon me, professor..." "Hmm?" "Dumbledore told me that lessons were already planned out for my convenience, and I was just wondering if you happen to know where he put them?"

"I'm not quite sure, I believe everything should be in your classroom or your chambers. Oh, and please, call me Minerva, as long as students aren't present, of course. We can't have them thinking I've gone too soft, can we? Besides it's only appropriate for you to call me by my first name, considering you are now part of the staff. " She says giving me a small wink. I chuckle softly and smile. "As you wish, Minerva."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your finger?" Minerva asks as she takes hold of my hand. "Oh, I just cut it this morning. It's not as bad as it looks." I say giving her a reassuring smile.

"Come. I'll take you to Poppy." "Minerva, that is not necessary. I'm fine." I say placing my hands behind my back. "Nonsense dear. I was already planning on taking you there anyway. There is someone I want you to meet."

9:00 am

We make our way down a hallway and stop at a big brown wood door. "Poppy," Minerva says knocking on the door softly. The slight sound of heels clicking on the floor can be heard as the door creaks open. "Oh, Minerva," Madam Pomfrey says her eyes scanning the both of us. "is something the matter?"

"Nothing major, Miss Y/n sliced her finger this morning, and I figured we could also introduce her to Miss Dalia," Minerva says. "Please, come on in. I'll be back in a moment." Poppy opens the door wider motioning for us to come take a seat as she heads toward a door at the back of the room.

I walk in behind Minerva and sit on one of the beds. A few moments later Poppy comes back with a young woman who seems to be about my age, maybe a tad older.

She has dark brown hair pulled into two French braids that flow down her back, darker skin, and gorgeous bright hazel eyes. "Dalia Morland," she says as she holds out her hand for a handshake.

I give her a warm smile and shake her hand. "Y/n Evadne." "You're the new Herbology professor, right?" she asks. I nod. "I'm an assistant for Poppy. I'm training to be a Healer. I asked Dumbledore if it would be alright if I could get some first-hand experience before I start the real job." she says as she looks over at Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm assuming you went to school here then?" "Yes, I was in Ravenclaw. I'm assuming you were in Hufflepuff?" "Oh, um," I say giving her a nervous grin, "I was actually in Slytherin." Her eyes widen slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry I just, well, I um just assumed..."

"Alright, enough chit chat let's get that cut of yours healed, shall we?" Poppy says as she diffuses the uncomfortable tension by taking hold of my finger and turning it back and forth examining it. "Alright, not too bad..." she mutters as she takes a small jar from her pocket and rubs the contents onto my finger.

"Okay, should be fine by tonight." she places the small jar in my hand, "If it starts to scar or the cut deepens, rub a bit of this on your finger, it should feel better in no time." "Thank you," I say placing the jar in my bag.

"Okay! We best be-" Minerva starts to say, but Dalia cuts her off. "Minerva, would it be alright if I went with you and Y/n? I think it would be a good chance for the two of us to get to know each other."

"I don't see why not. Would that be alright Y/n?" Minerva asks as the three of them turn to stare at me. "Yeah, that's fine," I say shrugging my shoulders.

9:47 am

"Sorry about earlier," Dalia says as we walk down the corridor away from the hospital wing. "I didn't mean to come off as rude or anything. You just didn't strike me as a Slytherin." "Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently, having human decency is a Hufflepuff thing or whatever," I say as I roll my eyes. "But don't worry, you didn't come off as rude." She laughs softly as we continue walking.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you the youngest professor?" "Well, I was until you showed up," Dalia says giving me a little smile. "There is a new DADA teacher, Remus Lupin. I haven't met him yet. He's supposed to come at the start of the term. He might be younger." I look over at her, she's staring right back at me a smile forming on her lips. "He's the same age as Severus," Minerva says from behind us.

"Severus?" I ask. "Severus Snape. He's the Potions professor and head of Slytherin. He's scary as hell," Dalia says as the three of us start heading down a flight of stairs and make our way outside. "We like to call him the dungeon bat. Just don't say that to his face." Minerva says a small grin forming on her lips. "Wait, I thought Slughorn was the one in that position?" I ask as the three of us stand in front of the door to the greenhouse. "Well, he was, he retired a while back."

"Well go on in and check it out," Minerva says opening the door for me.

As I walk in I scan the numerous plants dangling from the ceiling and decorating the walls. The vines against the windows allow light to seep in, casting small, colorful smudges on the objects in the room. "Hmm... they changed it up since I was last here..." I mutter as I caress a flower and stroll over to my desk placed in the front corner of the room. I look down seeing all the lesson plans placed neatly in different piles according to each year, the keys for the greenhouse beside them.

"Everything I need seems to be here," I say placing the keys in my bag. "Come, we'll show you where your chambers are and help you get situated, then we can come back here and help you decorate your classroom!" Dalia says excitedly as she heads for the stairs.

"Well, she seems excited," I say turning toward Minerva. "Yes, she has always had a great interest in anything related to art or interior design. Just don't let her use glitter...I still have PTSD...," Minerva says as she shakes her head slightly. I smile softly as we follow Dalia back inside.

CHAPTER 3

Y/n/n = y/n nickname

f/f = favorite food

Words: 2485

September 1st, 1993 5:53 pm

Over the past two days, me and Dalia have become good friends. She has told me a lot about herself and what she likes to do in her free time. She and Minerva helped me organize my classroom and Minerva even gave me some advice on how to deal with difficult students.

Dalia and I have even started a new routine of having tea together every afternoon so that when I'm done teaching for the day she can, as she likes to put it, "get all the juicy gossip".

*Flashback August 31st, 1993 - Dalia's quarters in the hospital wing*

"Dalia?" "Yeah?" "Minerva and I were talking yesterday, and she mentioned a glitter incident. What exactly happened?" She laughs and smirks at me. "Well, a few years ago, a few months into the school year, Minnie, Filius, and Hagrid had asked me to help decorate the Great Hall for Christmas.

I agreed because I LOVE decorating, I decided it would be a good idea to try and cast a glitter charm on a reef that was above the entrance," she pauses, furrowing her brows slightly, looking directly at me with a slight but unmistakable grin.

"Well it backfired, horribly, Snape happened to be walking in at that exact moment, and Minnie tried getting my attention while I was casting the charm, which caused me to not be paying attention to where I was pointing my wand, so instead of hitting the reef I accidentally hit him."

My mouth falls open in shock. "And you're still alive?!" She laughs at my shocked expression. "That's what I said! Merlin, he was livid! I'd never seen him so angry, Minnie immediately stepped in to diffuse the situation saying that it was her fault because she distracted me.

She's like one of the only people who can calm him down! There was also a group of students who were studying in the Hall, so that didn't help either. But, it was hilarious seeing the dark and scary dungeon bat covered in glitter!

Then during dinner, he was giving me dirty looks and wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, he accidentally bumped hands with Minnie as she grabbed her drink. It spilled all over him! He looked like he was going to explode!

"Sheesh, that must have sucked. From what I've heard from you and Minnie he seems to be a bit of a hard head." "Wait, y/n, have you even met him yet?" "No, not yet." "Well, good luck with him," she says as she smirks. My brows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" "Girl, he's the potions professor and you're the herbology professor! He has to collect plants from the greenhouse for his classes!" My eyes widen in surprise.

Well, shit.

"He's good friends with Minnie and they talk a lot so he probably already knows you are friends with me." "Dali, being friends with you isn't a bad thing!" "After what I did to him, girl, he will hate you! He holds grudges on everyone, and I mean EVERYONE. It doesn't even matter if you haven't done anything to him."

"Jeez, thanks for the kind words of wisdom," I say rolling my eyes. She stops talking and stares at me with a questioning look on her face. "Wait, did you call me Dali?" "Oh, shit sorry my bad..."

"No, no, no it's okay I like it ... Dali... got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Her eyes widen in excitement. "We need a nickname for you! Okay, what about n/n?" "Y/n/n... I guess that's okay." She squeals in excitement. "Okay great!" "Maybe Snape doesn't like you because you're always so happy."

She laughs and looks at the clock on the wall, "Maybe. Merlin, look at the time! Well, I'll see you tomorrow at the welcoming feast. We can catch up in a few days after classes have started so you can get the hang of everything. I need the juicy gossip with the dungeon bat."

She says raising her eyebrows up and down. We walk over to the door of the hospital wing and she opens it dramatically and bows. "Good day m'lady!" I laugh and do the same. "Goodnight Dali, I'll see you tomorrow."

*End of flashback.*

The Welcoming Feast for the first year starts in a few minutes. Great, we have to waste almost half an hour so a bunch of midgets can get sorted into a house. I roll my eyes at no one as I walk into the Great Hall. I look up and spot Dalia.

To her right, there's an empty seat that seems to be meant for me. On the right side of my seat, there's a man whom I haven't had the chance to meet yet. He has green eyes and light brown hair flecked with grey. Next to this mystery man is another professor I haven't met yet. He has shoulder-length, black hair which frames his face, and cold, onyx eyes.

His eyes are actually kind of pretty... and also staring at me. Well, that's fuckin embarrassing. Way to go Y/n don't even know the guy's name and he probably thinks you're a creep.

Dalia waves at me, and I walk over to her. "Hey, girl! Saved you a seat." "Thanks," I say, grasping the back of the chair, smoothly pulling it out, and settling into the seat. "Y/n, this is Remus Lupin. Remus this is Y/n Evadne." Remus extends his hand toward me, and I reach out to meet him with a firm handshake. "Pleasure to meet you Y/n," he says as he gives me a warm smile. "You as well Remus."

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall open. Minnie walks in followed by a group of first-years. The first years walk down to the front of the hall and stand together some shuffling their feet nervously and others with a confident smile on their face. Minerva silently walks over and grabs a four-legged stool placing it in front of the first years.

On top of the stool sits the sorting hat, looking just as patched and frayed as it did my first year. Minerva pulls out a large roll of parchment from her pocket and holds it out in front of her. "Now, when I call your name, you will place the hat on your head, take a seat on the stool, and wait to be sorted."

"Amir, Danny."

The boy walks up to the stool and places the hat on his head. I take a closer look at the boy. He seems very tall for his age, maybe as tall as some of the fourth years. He has dark skin, dark brown eyes, and messy jet-black hair.

The Sorting Hat bellowed "Slytherin!" as the entire hall erupted into cheers. The boy made his way over to the Slytherin table, a triumphant smile lighting up his face as he took his seat among his new housemates.

Minerva glanced down at the list in her hands. Her eyes scanned the paper until they landed on the name she was looking for.

"Sullivan, Maya."

The girl, who looks a bit short for her age, walks over and places the hat on her head. The hat spills down, covering half of her face, and she giggles. As we all sit in silence, waiting for her house to be called, I take a closer look at her. She has pale skin, long, straight dark red hair, and hazel eyes.

"Difficult this one... better be Hufflepuff!" exclaimed the sorting hat as the entire hall erupted into cheers again. The girl made her way over to the Hufflepuff table, a smile lighting up her face as she took her place among her new housemates.

"Aditi, Cristina."

"Excuse me!" the girl says as she makes her way through the crowd of first-years, her short blond curls bobbing slightly. She could easily be picked out in the group, considering she is a head taller than most of them. She makes her way over to the stool and before the sorting hat even touches her head, it shouts...

"Gryffindor!"

The hall erupts into cheers once more as she makes her way over to the Gryffindor table.

"Morland, Christopher."

Wait... Morland? The boy nervously makes his way up to the stool as he places the hat on his head. It's too big, so it slips down to cover his eyes. I turn to look at Dalia and she has a hopeful look on her face. I look back at the boy again and realize that the two look quite similar. The only differences are that he has light brown hair and green eyes, and he is a bit taller than her.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat's voice booms through the Great Hall, eliciting cheers from the students. As he strides confidently over to his designated table, Dalia's spirited cheers rise above the rest, echoing through the hall.

"Dalia," I ask turning to face her. "Are you related to him?" "What? Oh yeah, he's my nephew."

6:45 pm

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say before we become befuddled by our excellent feast. I myself am particularly looking forward to the flaming kiwi cups, which, while somewhat treacherous for those of us with facial hair..." Dumbledore is about to continue speaking when Minerva clears her throat, cutting him off.

He chuckles softly before continuing, "Ah. Yes. First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Good luck to you, Professor." Lupin stands up as the applause fills the hall.

"As some of you may know, Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be filled by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!"

The room is filled with thunderous applause and jubilant cheers as Hagrid turns ruby red, rises, and nearly topples the staff table, sending water goblets weaving.

"Professor Sprout, our Herbology teacher, has also decided to retire due to some medical problems she wishes to remain private. Fortunately, I am pleased to welcome our second new Professor, Professor Y/n Evande! I trust that the students will give you a warm welcome." As I rise to my feet, the students break into applause. Meanwhile, two red-haired twins at the Gryffindor table let out a few short whistles.

"Finally, on a more disquieting note, Hogwarts -- at the request of the Ministry of Magic -- will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban." Murmurs fill the hall as the students turn to look at their peers.

"The Dementors will be stationed at the entrances to the grounds. While they are under strict orders not to enter the castle itself, you will on occasion see them as you go about your daily activities. Under no circumstances are you to approach them. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving. Now enjoy our lovely feast." Dumbledore claps his hands and food appears on the four long tables.

As the chatter and the clinking of silverware fill the hall, Dalia turns her gaze in my direction, "Did you hear about what happened on the train?" I turn to look at her and shake my head putting some f/f on my plate.

"Apparently, Harry Potter got attacked by a dementor." My eyes widened as I turn to stare at her. "Oh, that must have been awful. Was he injured?"

"The boy just fainted," Remus says as he turns to look at the two of us.

"The dementor came into the compartment and went towards the boy. His other two friends Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were also in the compartment but were unharmed." "That's a relief," Dalia says as she sighs. "The boys' lucky nothing severe happened. Dementors are nasty creatures."

7:53 pm

"Merlin, that was amazing!" Dalia says as she takes a sip from her wine glass. "Come on, n/n, let's go." She pulls out her chair and stands up, her chair sliding against the hard floor. I turn to look at Remus as I stand up. "Lovely meeting you, Remus, I'll see you tomorrow." He nods as he watches me stand up, "Have a lovely evening."

Dalia and I make our way out into the hallway in front of the large staircase. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Make sure you have everything ready. Breakfast starts at 6:30 so I'll be at your chambers around 7:30."

"Okay, mom." I tease as I cross my arms and roll my eyes. "Ha ha," she says sarcastically as a teasing smirk appears on her face. "Seriously though I want to help you with any last-minute preparations."

"You worry too much Dali." "Just looking out for my new bestie," she pats my back softly and begins to walk up the stairs. "Love you girl!" I laugh as I watch her walk away. "You are something else, Dali..." I mutter as I turn to walk towards my chambers but instead, I run into a hard chest.

I look up to see the same guy from earlier with the black hair. "Oh, sorry I didn't mean to run into you." For fucks sake y/n way to embarrass yourself.

He sighs and rolls his eyes clearly annoyed. Um, rude what the hell is his problem?

"Just watch where you going next time." He says as he begins to make his way toward the dungeons. Wait a damn minute... "Excuse me," I say to him and he stops but doesn't turn around so I take that as my sign to continue. "I didn't quite catch your name." He doesn't answer for a few moments as he stands there.

What's this guy's problem? I said sorry. It's not like I walked into him on purpose! His approach could benefit from a more accommodating demeanor.

"Professor Snape." He mutters before making his way toward the dungeons once more.

Oh shit.

Well, that makes more sense.

8:07 pm

I finally make it back to my quarters and immediately flop down on my bed. Damn, Dali was right. That man is something else. I set my PJs on the bed before heading toward the bathroom for a quick shower.

After taking a shower, I use a drying spell on my hair with my wand. I then apply my favorite scented lotion and slip into my pajamas before getting into bed, tossing and turning to get comfortable.

Great job Y/n! What a great way to end the day! Piss off the guy you don't even know. Ugh... I hate when I can't read someone from their emotions. I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. Big day tomorrow. Maybe teaching a bunch of kids won't be so hard. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? 

CHAPTER 4

September 2nd, 1993 6:30 am

As the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtain a small sigh escapes my lips as I roll over and stare at the ceiling. I didn't get much sleep last night as my nerves were getting the best of me. I can't tell if it's because I'm anxious to teach or if it's just because of my ungodly sleep schedule.

I glance at the clock on my bedside table—6:30 AM. I groan as I swing my legs out of bed, my feet finding the warmth of the plush carpet. My routine was well-rehearsed after years of early mornings. First, a quick visit to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water, a habit that helped shake off the remnants of getting no shut-eye as usual.

A bit later I make my way toward my desk in the corner reviewing my lessons and making mental notes of any last-minute adjustments that may be needed for future classes. I flip a few papers to see which grades I will be teaching today. "First, third, and sixth..." I mutter to myself as I fold the papers placing them into a small bag. I may be a bit of a train wreck but at least I'm prepared.

I head back toward my closet opening the doors. Crap. What am I gonna wear? I stand in front of my closet moving hangers back and forth as I look for an outfit. After what felt like hours of trying on different outfits I found something both professional and comfortable—today is the first day after all.

Just as I finish doing my hair a knock can be heard from my door. "Y/n! It's me! Open up!" Dalia utters as she rocks back and forth on her heels.

I make my way to the door opening it and letting her inside. "Mornin-" "Morning! Okay, so I was thinking what if we quickly go to your classroom and I can help you get things ready so that then we can-"

"Dali!" I interpret her mid-ramble placing my hands on her shoulders so she is facing me. "What?" "Calm down you're a bit jumpy." "Sorry." She says her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "I'm just so excited for you! Oh and love your outfit by the way." "Thanks. It took me a bit to put it together."

"Okay, so breakfast first?" I nod as I begin to follow her out of my room and to the Great Hall. "Dali it amazes me that you're not a Hufflepuff. You are very bubbly." She slows her pace to walk next to me. "Yeah, I've heard that a lot. A bunch of my family is Huffelpuff's so maybe they rubbed off on me."

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the Great Hall, where the brightness of its lofty ceilings and long wooden tables set the scene for the day's beginning.

"I call dibs on the right side of Lupin," Dalia mutters as we approach the table. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why are you calling dibs?" Dalia motions with her head toward the last two empty seats. One next to Lupin and the other next to Snape.

"Sorry." She mutters sitting beside Lupin. "Morning Professor," She says a cheery smile on her face as she takes the seat next to the brunette. "Good Morning Miss Morland. Sleep well?" He questions as he takes a sip of his coffee. She shrugs putting some food on her plate.

As I take a seat in between Dalia and Snape I unexpectedly become very anxious. Why am I so nervous? I talked to him once! Once! He's clearly not that bad, he's just... well... I don't know what he is but he's somethin.

"Miss Evadne!" "Hmm?" I ask as I regain my focus turning toward the raven-haired man. "The water." He says pointing to the now overflowing glass. What? He takes my wand out of my hand and places it on the table.

"You filled the glass too much. You lost focus." He takes out his wand and clears the water off the table. Great another way to embarrass myself. Just my luck. "I would think you would be more aware of your surroundings." He says a teasing smirk on his face.

"Um, what was that about?" Dalia asks as we begin our walk to my classroom. "What was what?" "You like totally lost focus." "I don't know I just got nervous for some reason." Dalia lets out a small chuckle. "no kidding. But what did Snape mean by 'Be more aware of our surroundings'?"

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