#my mom had a dream that I told her my name before I was born

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)

“Mr Dixon?”

At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.

Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.

Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”

“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”

Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”

“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”

Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”

“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”

Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”

“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”

“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.

Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”

“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”

By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.

“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”

Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”

It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.

“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.

Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”

“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”

“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.

“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.

“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.

The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:

“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[luvly-writer]

Crimes of a Mother

Batfamily x Latina! Reader

—•—

Author´s note: Hello! Hope all of you are okay! Welcome to my new...whatever this is! (I have no idea if this will be a series or just a one shot...If it does become a series, it will definitely be a short one unlike the others) This is not in ANY of the universes of my other fics. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: None

General Masterlist:

Masterlist:

—•—

City lights. A scream. A dark looming shadow. A manor. Gun shots. It was the same dream every night. A city dark as night and curious as a cat.

Unraveling the never-ending mysteries that Gotham had to offer was one of my fascinations in life. For the longest time, I had held a certain obsession with the city. It always felt as if something was out there...calling me towards the magnificently mysterious place. Mom always tried to discourage it and would say that the city held secrets that would be unwise to uncover. It was a recuring argument in my household and it got worse the moment I told her I was striving to enroll on Gotham University.

SMACK

I snap out of my daydream.

-You know...normally, I don´t mind when you space out, Yn, but if we expect to make it out of here and straight to GU, we seriously NEED to study.

Taylor, my best friend ever since childhood, dropped a book on my desk, and looked at me impatiently. Charles, snorted from his place in my desk chair, watching the entire ordeal amusedly.

-You know it's bad when Tay is the one that wants to study and not you, Y.

-You know, you don't have to follow me all the way to Gotham. Brings out your attachment issues.

-First of all, you bitch, OF COURSE we have to go there. We are the iconic trio of Robinson Academy; we can't be separated. And second, Yn Salazar, you are forbidden of going into this mystery solving quest without your trusty sidekicks. How else is the documentary of your life supposed to be entertaining if you don't have the two dazzling, gay, and hilarious side characters who everyone will make edits of. Duh!

Said Taylor, throwing herself on my bed.

-It is the last Spanish test! Vamos a estar bien, chica! Mr. Soto will probably give out like a short quiz for us to be done with Senior year. Besides, we are ALREADY in! Forgot that piece of information?

Taylor opened her mouth and just shrugged, making Charlie and I laugh.

-Fair.

-Now, let's finish setting up and get started.

We move efficiently, setting up the camera on its tripod and strapping each tiny microphone to ourselves. We get settled on my bed and hit record.

•[Recording]

-Hi! My name is Yn Salazar. Born and raised in Puerto Rico. Currently, it is May 2nd, a week before my last day of high school and three weeks before my graduation. These are my best friends, Charles Martinez and Taylor Perez. Following today, we will be headed for Gotham University. Why Gotham precisely? Well, Gotham is a city full of mischief, madness, and chaos; and I plan to uncover it. From cryptic, to vigilantes, to rouges, this will be only the first of many time capsules. Beware Gotham, I'm coming.

—•—

A FEW MONTHS LATER

Unlike most college students, Charlie, Taylor and I had decided to not go on the dorms and find a three-bedroom apartment close to campus. Seeing as the three of us came from families that were economically well and rent was unsurprisingly cheap in Gotham, we had finally settled last week. Our apartment was fully furnished and decorated, and we still had a few weeks before classes began in September. I had just ended a call with my mom and headed for the living room, where Charlie was seated rewatching House of the Dragon. Taylor was in the kitchen trying out a new recipe she found on Pinterest.

-Ugh!

I say as I throw myself on the couch dramatically

-Your mom still thinks it is a bad idea to come to Gotham?

Taylor screamed from the kitchen.

-YES! I will never get it! What is in here that puts that woman in such a bad mood? All my life, my one dream has been to come to Gotham, I mean this is where every criminal journalist thrives! She is always so paranoid of this city and telling me that the secrets I would find here should stay hidden and for me to give it a rest. I think it is because my father lives here and if he does, who is he? Every time I ask, I get the same speech of powerful men and their ways...My mom has good judgement! I don't think she would have been with just anyone. For fuck's sake, she is one of the smartest and highest paid psychologists in Puerto Rico. I need to find out what this city is hiding...what happened to mom when she lived here.

-More like who happened probably

Muttered Charlie.

-EXACTLY! It is even worst that she sent me here with this letter to give to a Mr. Bruce Wayne.

-The Billionaire? (T)

-I guess...maybe I can interrogate him and see if that gets me a lead on this entire thing.

-When are you going? (C)

-After we drop you at soccer practice and T at rehearsal.

-FUCK I THINK I BURNT IT!!!

-TAYLOR!!!!

Charles and I got to her rescue laughing.

-Looks like we will be having takeout tonight

She said with a laugh

----

-That is one creepy ass manor...

I mutter from my driver seat. I press the button on the intercom near the gate. It buzzes and a voice with a distinct English accent speaks up,

-Good evening, with what may I help you today?

-Yeah...uh...hi! My name's Yn Salazar. I came to deliver a letter for Mr. Wayne...it's from Valentina Salazar.

-Oh dear...I'll let you pass straight away.

I hear the gate buzz and open. I drive in and park my car just outside. We had all pitched in and bought a car because we knew Gotham was not the best of places to walk around during the night. So, this is more convenient.

I take a deep breath and grab my bag, making sure my notepad is there, with my phone and wallet. I double check that the letter is there and once I see it, I get out of the car and lock it. I walk towards the entrance and just before I go to open the door, a man dressed like a butler opens it.

-You must be young Miss Salazar.

-Yn's just fine, and yeah that's me

The man takes a second to look at me, slight shock in his features. I observe him from head to toe and try to give him a smile. Top ten weirdest encounters ever. He moves aside and gestures for me to enter.

-Right this way, miss, Master Bruce is in his study expecting you.

I inspect everything around me as I follow the man. As we walk past one of the doors, I hear a bunch of screaming and I peak inside. Five guys, all varying in sizes and two girls, one blonde and another with raven hair are seen playing Mario Kart. I stay for second when one of them catches my eye and we make eye contact. He furrows his brow and I panic and leave, catching up to the butler.

We finally reach the study, and he knocks. A faint “Come in” is heard and I'm led inside.

-Young Miss Salazar

The butler announces and takes his leave. The man, Bruce Wayne takes one look at me and goes rigid. We stay a few seconds just looking at each other. His eyes show shock and disbelief. Mine I can guess show curiosity and uncertainty.

-This is for you!

I cringe at how awkward I sound. Great job, Yn, he already fucking knows that. He coughs and nods as I walk towards him and hand him the letter. I take a seat and wait patiently for him to open it and read it. I play with my fingers as silence engulfs us.

-You are Valentina's kid?

-That is corrrect

-How old are you?

-I turned 18 back in February.

-I see...

His face pales at the revelation and he continues reading. I didn't think it was possible for this man to get any paler, yet he does once he is done reading the letter.

-How did you know my mom?

I went directly to the point

-We were close friends

-How close? She never once mentioned this supposed friendship

He flinches at that statement,

-Valentina is a woman of many secrets

-On that we can agree, how close?

He observes me for a moment, and I harden my gaze on him. The corner of his tilts up slightly, clearly amused by me.

-Close

-How informative of you. Did you attend Gotham Academy together?

-Yes.

-Hmmm, have you any clue on why she left Gotham?

-I don't think it is my position to give that information

-How noble, have you any memory of who were her friends aside from you, of course?

-I may. Yn, is it?

-Yes.

-I suggest you follow your mother's advice and keep away from this. Your mother is a good woman and anything from the past should be placed at rest. Some skeletons are meant to stay in the closet.

-Did you know who was my father?

I push one last time and I see him take a sharp intake of air.

-Ah...so you do, wonderful.

-Yn...

-Thank you for your time today, Mr. Wayne. I can assure you this won't be the last time you will see me. Here's my mother's number. You can call her and tell her yourself that her plan to shoo me away from my investigation has been unsuccessful and that getting her “close friend” to deter me from it as well will do nothing. Good day.

I stand up to leave and Mr. Wayne just observes me as I take my leave. Alfred, who I just learnt his name, leads me back to the door. We pass by the kitchen where the group I saw earlier are gathered muttering. They see me and quiet down, just observing me. I raise my eyebrow at them. I hear a low “He got another one?” as I continue on my way. Finally, we get to the door, and I thank Alfred for him time. I get on my car and look up, seeing Mr. Wayne watching me from one of the windows and the group of people trying to be discreet from another window. “This won't be the last time they see me for sure”, I think to myself as I connect my phone to the car and play Running Up That Hill by Kate bush as I drive away.

—•—

Back in Bruce's study, Alfred interrupts his train of thought as he watches the car leave.

-Is that who I am to believe it is?

-And who might you think that is, Alfred?

-Don't play coy with me boy, I can detect a Wayne from a mile away. That girl is yours.

Alfred replied courtly. Bruce walks back and hands him the letter. His eyebrows raise high on his head as he reads.

-I have never met anyone with Wayne blood that was not troublesome, and it seems, this one will keep you with your hands full for some time.

-What gave her away?

-Her eyes, master Bruce. That scrutinizing and calculative gaze is one that can only be found in anyone related to you, blood or not. You have another young detective in your hands, and this one just as brilliant.

-That is what worries all of us.

-•-

Tell me what do you guys think about this draft? Should it be a fic? Are y'all interested? Should there be a taglist? Leave me a comment or a reblog :)

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the last great american dynasty

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.8k (whoops)

summary:

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up.

He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream

author's note:

inspo board this work is inspired by taylor swift's song "the last great american dynasty" and is part of the folklore album anthology! if you enjoy, please consider reblogging/commenting and make sure to check out the other works by the amazing collaborators on this project.

tags/warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, work contains journal entries as part of the plot, porn with plot, pre-outbreak!joel, grandma is a named OFC, sassy reader, dirty talk, teasing, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paint as a flirting mechanism, mild enemies to lovers, pet names. let me know if there are any missing!

August 20, 1948

I have arrived in Texas. I am uncertain where to go or what to do. For so long I’ve answered only to George, but now I am my own woman and the world before me has suddenly become much bigger, seemingly overnight.

I just hope it will be good for me.

-R

PRESENT DAY

If there’s one thing you never expected, it’s to inherit a mansion from a grandmother that you’ve never spoken to. As far as you were aware that kind of thing only happened in movies, so receiving a phone call from an estate lawyer that had been trying to locate you for a whole year since this mystery woman’s passing was a complete shock.

Now you find yourself with a car full of your belongings driving cross country to a sleepy suburb of Austin, Texas. The first stop is the lawyer’s office, where a secretary eyes you warily as you sit in the lobby of the lush office suite, fingers toying with a loose thread on the t-shirt you’d been wearing for the last eight-hour leg of your road trip.

A voice calls your name from a door just past the secretary’s desk, an older man with white hair and a deeply wrinkled face smiling kindly at you. You stand, shaking his hand as you pass by him into his office. He gestures to the wingback chairs that face his impressive dark wood desk. You take in the diplomas on the wall and the floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with thick, leather bound tomes. 

“I appreciate you comin’ all the way out here so quickly. You were quite the tough one to find,” the man says with a chuckle. He pulls out a thick envelope, cream colored with swooping, swirling handwriting across the front reading your name. “Your grandmother was a dear friend of mine. She established a trust in your name not long after you were born.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still a little confused. I didn’t even know I had a grandmother,” you admit quietly. He nods solemnly. 

“She never told me all the details, but there had been a falling out between her and her daughter. They kept their distance after that.” When you don’t say anything, mind too busy racing with the questions that you suppose only your mom can answer now, he continues. “Would you like the review the details of the trust?”

“Um, sure. I guess that’s why I’m here, after all.”

He slips a piece of paper from the folder, sliding it across the desk. The same swirling handwriting fills the page.

My Dearest,

You may not know me, but I’ve watched you grow in photographs and letters since you were born. You mean the world to me, even if I could not fit in the world that your mother created for you. I respected that choice, hurt though it may have.  She had her own path to forge, just as I did, and just as you will. I am eternally grateful for the parts of her life she did share after she left.  

In the event of my passing, I leave my estate to you in its entirety. I built my true happiness in those walls, and I hope you can do the same.

-R

You read the letter twice, eyes stinging with tears. A tissue box slides across the desk, and you pluck two sheets out gratefully. 

“In this envelope are the more official documents. The deed transfer that will need your signature, beneficiary statements for her banking and savings accounts, things like that. My office will handle all the paperwork filing,” the man says. A few more forms are laid out on the desk, and you lean forward to read them. 

“Holy shit,” you snap, eyes wide as you swipe the beneficiary statement from the wood. “There must be too many zeroes in this, right? Or a rogue comma? That can’t be the right amount.”

“I assure you that’s the correct amount,” he says with a laugh. “And if you’ll sign down there, it’ll be transferred to your name and designated account.”

Your mouth goes dry as you read through the rest of the documents. In addition to the sizeable amount of money about to hit your bank account, there’s a five-bedroom house being transferred into your name, as well as a safety deposit box. You sign each form where directed, sliding them back over to the lawyer. 

“I believe this is yours,” he says, holding a house key out to you. He drops it into your open palm. “Good luck.”

“I wish they would just put that place up for sale already,” Joel grumbles from the passenger seat of his brother’s truck as they drive by the out-of-place 1920s Victorian home on their way to a job site. 

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past year since that poor old woman passed,” Tommy says with a laugh. “Give it up, brother. Your dream house is just goin’ to rot away before your eyes.”

“Don’t you say that,” Joel replies. He doesn’t need Tommy speaking his fear into the universe. 

The house has already been showing signs of falling apart in the last ten years Joel has lived in the neighborhood. The roof needs work, the shutters need replacing, the lawn is overgrown, and there’s a sizable hole in the wrap-around porch that seems to get bigger over time.

He’s wanted that house since the first time he saw it while he was house hunting ten years ago, a then three-year-old Sarah on his hip as he toured a nice little house that was available in the neighborhood at the time. While the home he’s built with his daughter through long days of hard work is nothing to scoff at, he’s always dreamed of something with more character and story. 

He just hopes he’ll get his chance.

You stare up at the old house in front of you, shielding your eyes from the late afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful house, though there’s no denying its seen better days – two stories with large bay windows on both floors, white wood siding and chipped red shutters that are clinging to their rusty hardware, a large wrap around porch that has vines encroaching on the banisters, a lawn overgrown with weeds. You tentatively climb the steps of the porch, peeking nervously into the large hole in the wood to the left of the front door.

“That’s private property,” a gruff voice calls out, making you jump. You turn, finding a man standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You ain’t supposed to be snoopin’ around.”

“Actually—”

“Why don’t you just head home, sweetheart, and I won’t have to call the cops,” the stranger says, cutting you off. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“This is—”

The man huffs, arms dropping as he digs in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a cell phone. “Seriously, I’ll give you until the count of three. We don’t need trouble around this neighborhood, alright?”

The nerve, you think, narrowing your eyes at the man. Since he clearly doesn’t want to hear what you have to say, you decide to take a different route. You reach into the pocket of your shorts, pulling out the key that the lawyer had given you earlier that day. You take a sideways step closer to the door, keeping your eyes on the man as you pointedly insert the key into the lock and opening the heavy wood door.

His mouth drops open in surprise and you smile at him.

“You were saying?”

Joel had seen the car parked in the driveway of the empty house when Tommy dropped him off after work. He’d quickly checked on Sarah, newly thirteen and fiercely independent, finding her working on her homework at the kitchen table, before making his way across the street. 

He hadn’t expected to find a gorgeous woman snooping around the old house, curves hugged in denim shorts and a tank top that made his mouth water. He also hadn’t expected the woman to produce a key from the pocket of those sinfully tight shorts.

“You were saying?” You ask, lips curved in a smirk and eyebrows raised at him. When Joel doesn’t immediately reply, still too stunned that you have access to the house, you turn and walk through the door, shutting it behind you. 

He finally shakes himself of his shock, bounding up the steps and knocking on the door. You pull it back open.

“I’ll buy it from you,” Joel says immediately.

“Excuse me?” You reply, your hands moving to your hips. “It’s not for sale.”

“Come on, what’s a girl like you need all this space for?” Your mouth drops open, pretty lips stretched wide in surprise and Joel struggles to keep his thoughts from drifting to sinful places. 

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re young, that’s all. You don’t need a house this big and this much of a project!”

“What makes you think I don’t have a big ol’ family I’m moving in here? Four kids and a loving husband?!”

Joel blinks. “You got four kids and a lovin’ husband?”

“No, but that’s besides the point.” You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger at his chest. “It’s not for sale. Now get off my porch before I call the cops on you.”

With that final word, the door shuts in Joel’s face again, the sound of your retreating footsteps signaling the end of the discussion.

November 12, 1948

There’s a gentleman who comes into the diner every Tuesday. He always sits in one of my booths, with his perfect hair and suit and handsome face distracting me until he leaves. Some of the other waitresses try talking to him but he doesn’t pay them any mind. They’ve whispered to me before that he comes from money - oil, or something, not that it matters. 

His name is William, and I think he’s trying to steal my heart.

-R

“So, let me get this straight. First, you threatened to call the police on this woman. Then, rather than introducin’ yourself or welcomin’ her to the neighborhood or even apologizin’, you just go straight to tellin’ her she doesn’t need a house that big and that you wanna buy it from her. Did I hear that right?” Tommy says, watching Joel as he throws together dinner the following evening. 

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Sarah says. Joel huffs.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He sips his beer as his daughter and brother share a look. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothin’,” they say in tandem. Joel narrows his eyes as Sarah breaks out in giggles. Tommy stands, heading to Joel’s pantry and rifling through the shelves until he finds an unopened bottle of whiskey buried in the back.

“What are you doin’ with that?” Joel asks. 

“Welcomin’ your new neighbor like the gentleman I am. Sarah, watch the pasta while I show your dad how it’s done,” Tommy replies, heading for the front door, Joel trailing behind him. 

Tommy crosses the street with quick steps, eyeing the porch dubiously as he knocks on the door. Joel stands beside him, hands shoved in his pockets as he curses under his breath about his brother’s stupid antics.

You open the door, dressed this time in a pretty sundress that makes Joel’s mouth go dry. Tommy flashes you a grin and Joel can’t help the annoyance he feels when his brother’s eyes trail over your body.

“Hey there! I’m Tommy Miller, you may have met my dumbass brother over here the other day. I’m certain he didn’t make the best impression, so I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding the whiskey out to you. 

You introduce yourself, ignoring Joel. “Thank you so much, Tommy. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure thing,” his traitorous brother replies, stepping over the threshold. When Joel makes a move to follow, you give him a pointed look before shutting the door in his face. 

“You want a beer, Tommy?” You ask the handsome man in your kitchen. You can’t help but be impressed by the genetics of the Miller family, both men tall and tan and handsome as hell. Sure, one of them could use a lesson on manners, but you’ll admit that since your confrontation your mind has drifted to thoughts of brown eyes and soft dark hair that belong to the brother you left on the porch out of spite.

“Yes, please,” Tommy says politely. You open the dated refrigerator and grab two beer bottles, popping the caps against the countertop and handing one to him. “This sure is a nice place.”

“Thanks. I just inherited it from my grandma,” you explain. “It’s a little…dated.”

He chuckles. “We call it ‘character’ in contractin’.”

“That what you guys do, then? Contracting?”

“Sure is. Miller Brothers Contracting and Construction.” Tommy scratches at the label on the bottle before saying, “Look, I know my brother can come off the wrong way. He didn’t get the social genes. But he’s a good guy, and he’s loved this house since the first time he saw it. Always wanted to buy it, fix it up, raise his little girl here. Maybe add to his family one day.”

You look around the rundown kitchen. You’ve only been here a day and you know you’ve got your work cut out for you. The electrical and plumbing are all outdated, the appliances need replacing, the floors need to be refurbished, and that’s just the first floor. You could use some help with it all, and maybe the grumpy contractor next door who cares about the house could help you with it all.

“I appreciate that he loves the house but…I never met my grandma. Never even knew who she was or that she was even alive, and it’s the only connection I have to her. I don’t know if this is going to be my forever but…I want to at least give it a shot.”

Tommy smiles. “We could help with that.”

It feels like ages before Tommy’s stepping back out onto the porch, a beer in his hand that makes Joel frown.

“Y’all were havin’ drinks while I sat out here like an ass?” He asks incredulously. Tommy throws an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Yes, and if you don’t quit your whinin’ I’m not goin’ to tell you about our lovely conversation,” the younger man says as he walks with Joel back to his house.

In the kitchen, Sarah is pouring the pasta sauce and ground beef over the noodles. Joel takes over and waves her away, mumbling his thanks as he mixes the ingredients together. He sets up two plates, setting one in front of his daughter and sitting down with the other. Tommy makes an affronted sound before fixing his own plate.

“So?” Joel asks. Tommy slurps at his food.

“Was the lady nice?” Sarah asks.

“No,” Joel replies at the same time Tommy says, “Yes.” 

Joel glares at Tommy. “You gonna tell me what she said or what?”

“She ain’t sellin’,” Tommy finally says. “But, she wants to fix the place up. Offered our services so you could get your grubby fuckin’ hands in there.”

“Language,” Joel says, eyes flicking to Sarah. The girl rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“Yep. Better start callin’ the guys. From what I saw we’re dealin’ with electrical from the 50s, plumbing from who knows when, not to mention the HVAC and roof will need to be upgraded, too.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before grinning at Joel. “You up for the challenge?”

“Hell yeah.”

August 23, 1949

William and I have just been married.

I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. But he is truly the light of my life.

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. I’m still not abreast of all these new societal expectations that surround a man like William, but I’m willing to try. Today he will be taking me around to view houses in the more opulent neighborhoods, the type of homes I used to gawk at but one of them will be mine.

I must be dreaming.

-R

Joel and Tommy start working on the house right away. Every day there’s a line of pick-up trucks parked on the curb and the sounds of construction start early in the morning and continue into the late evening. The electrician and plumber come through first, updating the wiring and pipes through the whole house. The roofers and HVAC come through next, replacing the crumbling shingles and dated central unit with a split system for each level of the house.

It’s not until the big projects are done that you get to have fun with the place, which is how you found yourself methodically painting the front door a muted lime green early one morning. 

“What do you think you’re doin’?” 

You sigh. Despite Tommy’s assurances that Joel is a great guy beneath the grumpy control freak exterior, you’ve continued to only get the side of the man that grates your nerves.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m painting the door.”

“You can’t paint the door that color,” Joel says, heavy footsteps stomping up your newly repaired porch. 

“Says who?” You retort. You smear another stroke of paint over the sanded wood.

“Me, for one. The historical society, for two.” He pulls the brush from your hand and holds it above his head and out of your reach. The movement drags his shirt up, exposing a strip of tan belly with a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans.  “Why are you bein’ a pain in the ass?”

“I was put on this earth simply to make your life more difficult, Joel Miller. Isn’t that obvious?” You reply sarcastically. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like you got that right. “What are you even doing over here? It’s Saturday.”

“We’re goin’ to the store. You gotta start pickin’ stuff out for the bathrooms and kitchen,” he says, tossing the paint brush into the tray. “And then we’re gettin’ a new color to cover this up.”

Joel leaves the porch and you follow behind him to the black pick-up truck idling by the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and you raise your eyebrow at the gesture but climb inside.

January 3, 1950

Our New Year’s party is the talk of the town. There were so many people in the house I began to lose count. William had so much champagne ordered I swear we could fill an entire swimming pool with it all. 

The ladies at the club have already begun to ask when we would host our next event. I can’t wait to plan another.

-R

“Can you please focus?” Joel begs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He’s laid out three tile combinations, one for each bathroom in the home, and he needs you to look at them but you keep getting distracted.

“You’re no fun,” you huff. You examine the tiles, pointing to a turquoise blue one he’s picked for the shower in the master. “I love that.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. She can be reasoned with.”

You giggle and Joel can’t help the smile it prompts from him, the sound of your laugh so sweet compared to your sharp tongue. 

“I like the white and blue combinations for upstairs, but in that powder room I want a pink theme,” you tell him. Your eyes search the displays, landing on a blush pink glass subway tile option. “Like this!”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Joel replies without thinking, taking the sample from you and comparing it next to the floor tile he’d chosen for that bathroom. When he glances at you, you’re giving him a confused look. “What?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shaking your head. “What about the kitchen?”

“What were you thinking for in there?”

“Green cabinets. White and black backsplash, the kind with the little hexagons that look like flowers. I gotta pick out appliances now that the electrical can sustain newer ones, too.” You pause. “And how do you feel about wallpaper?”

“It’s the devil,” Joel replies.

Your grin is downright mischievous. “Excellent.”

February 2, 1956

William had a heart attack. It scared me so badly that I haven’t let him out of my sight since. The doctor said he’s been working too hard, drinking too much, and not sleeping enough. Maybe the parties have started to be too much for him. 

I’ve been feeling unlike myself. Tired, nauseated. Hopefully my heart isn’t troubled, too.

-R

Joel places a hefty order for all the items you’ve picked out today from nearly every aisle of the store - tile for the bathrooms and kitchen, vanities and plumbing fixtures, countertops, lighting, and appliances. While he’s preoccupied with calculations and measurements and pricing things out, you pick out paint and wallpaper for the projects you’ll be able to do on your own.

He finds you a while later, a cart full of paint buckets and supplies. To your surprise, he grins. 

“More paint, huh? You pick a new one for the door?” He asks. You smile back at him, butterflies erupting in your tummy. 

“Yep. Does navy blue suffice, your highness? I thought we could paint the trim the same color.”

Joel nods. “Good choice. Look, I’ve kept you here so long for all the orderin’. You wanna get lunch?”

“Careful, Joel. I’m like a stray cat - once you start feeding me, I might never leave,” you reply with a laugh. You push your heavy cart of paint towards the exit.

You miss the soft smile he gives to your retreating figure.

September 23, 1956

Our daughter is here. She’s the sweetest little thing, though she can screech like a banshee when she sees fit. William is so besotted, he keeps looking between the two of us with stars in his eyes like he can’t believe how lucky he is.

I love them both with my whole heart and soul.

-R

Joel takes you to a retro family diner with black-and-white checkerboard flooring and red vinyl accents with a vintage jukebox in the corner. You’re delighted by the themed menu, eyes immediately zeroing in on the classic malt shakes and french fries. 

Over lunch, Joel actually opens up to you. He tells you about going into construction right out of high school and dragging Tommy into it when he’d gotten back from serving his tour with the Army. He talks about his daughter, Sarah, and you can’t help the smile that stretches your lips as you watch his eyes light up while he talks about his little girl. She’s at a sleepover this weekend, which gave him the extra time to visit the home improvement store this morning.

In turn, you tell him about getting the call from the lawyer one afternoon that changed your life forever. How you’d packed up everything you owned and driven across the country to find out that you had a grandmother that your mother never told you about that left you her entire estate. 

“Wow. That’s…wow,” Joel says when you’ve paused to take a sip of your chocolate shake. 

“Excuse me?” A voice asks. You both look up at the elderly woman dressed in a  t-shirt with the restaurant’s logo and pressed slacks. She smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and ever since you sat down I’ve been wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to place your face and it’s just hit me.”

She holds out a framed black and white photo of six waitresses standing beneath the same sign that’s still out front, all of them grinning at the camera. There’s one face, however, that looks familiar despite you never having seen her.

“Her name was Rebecca. We used to work together. That’s me, right there,” she says, pointing to the girl standing to the woman’s left. “Rolled up to town at eighteen, fresh off a divorce and hardly a penny to her name. My daddy, god rest his soul, he owned the restaurant and gave her a job when she’d come through lookin’ for work.”

“Wow,” you murmur. “This is insane. Do you have any other pictures?”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “‘Fraid not, darlin’. Just the one. But I know she kept a lot of journals. Was always scribblin’ in one and spent what little extra cash she had makin’ sure she had a new notebook ready. Maybe they’re still around?”

July 16, 1958

William…

William is gone. My light, my love, my world. The doctor said his heart just…stopped. In his sleep, right beside me. 

I have to continue to live with a hole in my own heart, the piece that William stole years ago gone with him. 

But I have to be strong for our daughter. Our brave girl, my little bird.

-R

When Joel brings you back to the house, you stare up at the facade, wondering if the journals the woman had spoken about could still be inside. Lost in thought, your eyes land on the little window that sits above the bay windows on the second floor, where the master bedroom is. You’ve been sleeping in that room for months now and you know there’s no window there that you can see from the inside. 

“Hey, Joel?” You call out, eyes still fixed on the little window like it might disappear if you look away. “This place is only two stories. How come there’s a window there?”

He looks up at the roof. “Huh. Might be decorative?”

“Or it might be a secret room,” you tell him.

“Okay, Sherlock. Let’s go see.”

You lead him upstairs to the master bedroom, most of your grandma’s furniture still present save for the bed that you replaced upon arriving. You stare up at the ceiling, but it’s smooth - no trap doors to be found.

“If I were a secret door, where would I hide?” You ask.

Joel, who’d been poking his head into the walk-in closet, replies, “Probably the closet.”

There’s a creak of old hinges as Joel reaches up high and tugs the brass pull handle fixed in the ceiling. A descending ladder falls to the ground and you both stare at each other in surprise.

“I’ll go grab a flashlight,” Joel offers, sprinting from the room. You stare up at the hole in the ceiling, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

He returns quickly. “I’ll go up first.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you tease, watching as he ascends the ladder, your eyes shamelessly fixed to his ass as he climbs. You hear the click of the flashlight and see the sweep of the beam through the opening in the ceiling. “Anything?”

“Lots of suitcases. Hang on, let me grab one of the small ones,” he calls down. There’s the sound of something being dragged across the floor before he’s slowly lowering a leather suitcase into your hands. 

It’s surprisingly heavy and you drag it by the handle to the bedroom, kneeling on the ground to pop the latches and open the dusty lid. Inside are stacks of leather bound notebooks, edges of the pages yellow with age. 

“I’ll be damned,” Joel says, wiping his palms against his jeans. “We found the journals.”

Joel drags the suitcase downstairs, setting it in the living room for you while you order pizza and open a bottle of wine for the occasion. You sit beside each other on the couch and he hands you a journal that you carefully open. 

May 17, 1974

We had another argument last night. She claims that I’ve been too overbearing, too protective, too stifling, but what else is a mother meant to do? 

-R

May 18, 1974

Her bed was cold and empty this morning. Her piggy bank smashed to bits on the floor and her drawers cleared. Despite my tight grip, my little bird has flown away.

It appears that history does repeat itself. Imagine that.

-R

“Holy shit,” you say, sitting back on the couch with your glass of wine in one hand and one of your grandma’s journals in the other. “She ran away.”

“Who did?” Joel asks, biting into a slice of pizza. 

“My mom. She just…packed up and disappeared.” You glance at him. “Guess that’s why I never knew about her.”

“Maybe you should stop uncoverin’ dark family secrets for the night,” Joel suggests. “You know, the dining room could stand to be painted.”

You glance over to the room in question. Joel must have set down the drop cloth on the floor while you’d been engrossed in your discovery.

“Sure. Why not,” you acquiesce. 

October 29, 1976

I’ve received an envelope of photographs in the mail, pictures of my daughter holding a little baby. She’s written notes on the back of each one. I’m a grandmother.

My daughter looks happy. Healthy. That’s all I can ask. She didn’t provide a return address. 

As for the baby…I love her so much. She takes my breath away. I keep one of the photos on me at all times.

-R

Joel turns on the radio while he works, humming along to the classic rock station selections. He’s been working on painting the wall near the wood molding while he left you with a paint roller to cover the middle of the wall. He looks up at you occasionally, admiring the way your muscles work as you wash the wall with color. 

You must sense that he’s watching, turning your head over your shoulder and looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. You smile at him, setting the roller in the tray. He can’t help but look at your ass in your tight leggings as you bend over.

You straighten up, walking over to him. There’s a glint in your eye that has Joel on high alert.

“You got a little something on your face,” you tell him. 

“No, I don’t,” he counters. He’s a master at painting. He knows damn well he doesn’t have a drop on him.

“Yeah, you do,” you argue. You reach out, and your fingers smooth across his forehead. “Right there!”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise and he lets out a bark of laughter, bringing his fingers up to his forehead. When he pulls his hand away, they’re stained blue and you’re grinning at him like a mad woman.

“Yeah? Well, you got some right—“ He smears his paintbrush across your chest and you try to step back, but it’s too late. “—there,” he finishes.

You rush back to the paint tray and dip your hands in the liquid, brandishing your palms like weapons. He starts to advance on you, smirking as you back up.

“Stay back,” you command. Joel laughs, dodging your swinging arms as he charges, dropping low to press a shoulder into your belly, dragging you down to the ground in a heap of limbs.

He presses his body to yours as he reaches an arm out to the paint tray, covering his own hand in paint. Your eyes go wide and you squirm beneath him, your paint covered palms reaching up under his shirt to press the cold liquid to his ribs. He flinches away, giving you enough room to scramble out from under him.

Joel grabs your arm, paint smearing on your skin as he tugs you back down. You wrestle together, paint getting everywhere as he lets you straddle his waist. His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing tightly as he stares up into your face.

“You win,” he murmurs, voice low. Your lashes flutter, hips canting over the obvious bulge in his jeans. He groans, hands urging you to do it again.

“What’s my prize?” 

Joel slips his fingers beneath the hem of your tank top, dragging the paint stained material up and over your head and tossing it aside. His gaze burns across your newly exposed skin.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He says, a hand sliding up your belly to palm one of your breasts. Your head drops back as you moan. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as his eyes grow darker, his gaze more heated. “Come on, Miller. What’s my prize?”

With a growl Joel sits up, wrapping an arm around your low back and twisting your bodies until you’re on your back, staring up at him as his lips stretch in a devious smirk. His fingers curl into the waistband of your leggings, sliding the fabric down your legs. His touch paints your skin blue as he does.

His hands press your thighs apart, opening you up. Your cheeks heat as he stares down at you like he’s trying to commit every curve of you to his memory. Finally, he leans in and you can feel his breath ghosting over your heated flesh.

Joel’s tongue traces through your slick folds, a broad stroke that has you gasping and arching your back. He hums against your sensitive flesh as he repeats the languid motion, his stubble catching on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You reach your hands down to tangle in his hair, paint catching on the strands as you tug and pull. He groans against you, tongue moving faster as he circles your clit before pulling it between his lips. A hand leaves your thigh, the one not coated in paint, and two thick fingers press to your entrance, sliding inside of you as you gasp out Joel’s name.

“Christ,” he groans as he presses in deep before withdrawing slowly, curling his digits against your front wall, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, pretty girl. That for me?”

“Uh huh,” you reply, breathless as you work your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Joel watches you, his lips and chin shiny from his efforts. “Joel, please!”

“Please what?” His hand moves faster, fingers pressing harder as his lips spread in a lascivious grin that makes your toes curl. “Come on, baby, ask me real nice and I’ll give you anythin’. Ain’t that right? You know damn well you’ve had me wrapped around your sassy little finger since the moment we met, don’t you?”

You whine, nodding your head quickly. “Knew you were a glutton for punishment.”

“Could say that again,” he says, chuckling as he lands a smash to the outside of your thigh with his free hand. “Now, come on, baby. Follow directions. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna cum, Joel. Please!”

“Good girl,” he growls, lowering his lips to your pussy to lick at your clit. He hums as he lavishes the sensitive bud with attention and it’s the final push you need over the razor's edge you’d been teetering on since he started. You press your thighs against his head as your nerves light up and your muscles go tight with pleasure, his movements slowing as he works you through your release.

Your muscles go limp, head dropping back to the floor with a thunk. Joel sits up, crawling up your body and trailing kisses across your tummy and chest in the patches of skin not covered by paint. He grips your chin, holding you steady as his lips press to yours in a kiss so deep you worry you’re at risk of drowning.

Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the leather free of the loops in a frenzy. He stands quickly, freeing himself of his jeans and boxers in one motion before reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off while you admire his labor-toned body.

Joel drops to his knees, pressing his hips to yours and dragging the thick head of his cock through your sensitive pussy, bumping your clit and making you both groan in tandem. His forearms rest on the floor beside your head as he teases you like this, slow drags of his length through your wetness, the tantalizing catch of him at your aching hole. You tilt your hips slightly, hoping he gets the hint, and he chuckles.

“You know the drill, baby,” he says, breathless with his own desire. “Just say the word.”

“Fuck me, Joel, please.”

His cock slips inside of you with little resistance, the stretch of him making you gasp. His eyes remain fixed to yours as he bottoms out and you smile up at him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Joel gives a small, experimental thrust that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. He does it again, a sharper snap of his hips making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulder. He builds his own rhythm, one that has your hips chasing his on every pull from your body, one that has you chanting his name and staring up at him like he’s a god and you’re simply a sacrifice on his altar. 

He sits back on his heels, the angle changing as your hips get lifted onto his lap. His hands wrap around your waist, fingertips pressing tightly to your ribs as he uses your body for his pleasure, pounding into you roughly.

“Cum for me again,” he demands, bringing a thumb to your clit in quick circles. “Come on, sweetheart, want you to cum on my cock. Was so pretty on my fingers.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the near overstimulation but you nod, wanting to give this man whatever he wants if it means he’ll keep touching you, holding you, looking at you. 

You cum again with a shout of his name and he groans, deep and visceral as he presses in deep, holding your hips to his as his cock pulses inside of you with his release.

Joel slowly lowers your hips to the ground, withdrawing from your body as he does. He flops gracelessly to the floor beside you, sweat damp chest heaving with exertion. His head turns to yours, grin wide and eyes bright.

“You’re covered in paint,” he comments, reaching out to run his hand across a streak on your collarbone.

“So are you,” you reply, mimicking the gesture against his ribs. 

“What do you say to a shower?”

You smirk at him before jumping up and racing to the doorway. 

“I’d say last one there doesn’t get the hot water!”

You can hear his curse as you rush up the stairs, making it halfway before a strong arm wraps around you and stops you in your tracks, your laughter echoing through the house.

June 27, 1993

The neighborhood has changed so vastly. Much of the older homes have been torn down and replaced with less handsome architecture. The residents grow younger while I continue to age. Just last week a handsome young man and his darling daughter moved in down the street. He looks exhausted. I remember those days.

Not all the neighbors are lovely. Harold next door has an annoying dog that barks at all hours. He prances her around like a show pony, when she’s just a yappy little creature.

-R

ONE YEAR LATER

The house is finally finished. All the tile has been laid, everything has been painted, appliances delivered, holes repaired, fixtures installed, and wallpaper glued. You go downstairs for coffee in the morning, you take it to the parlor room you’ve made into a study. Floor to ceiling bookshelves display every journal you’d unearthed from the hiding place in the attic, each one read through cover to cover. 

When you finally told your mom about what you’d been up to, her surprise and hurt could be felt even through the phone. You mailed one of her mother’s journals to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said the next time you spoke. “So much time had passed and I didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken.”

You don’t begrudge her decisions. Your grandma left you her story, and through that you’ve been able to know her.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs precede Joel’s appearance in the study, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes half shut. He drops beside you on the couch, grabbing your coffee from your hands and taking a sip of it.

“Is it everything you’ve always wanted?” You ask him, tilting your head to his shoulder. You still remember the way he’d been desperate to buy the house from you and you laugh at how the world works, given that he now wakes up in bed beside you and is tasked with the lawn maintenance every weekend. He presses a kiss to your head. 

“It’s even better.”

June 29, 1993

I don’t think the dog will be bothering the neighborhood again anytime soon.

Turns out he doesn’t hold as much pride for the dog when she’s been dyed lime green.

Imagine that.

-R

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist!

[bluemoonwolf17]

Lucifer damn! I have gone down a rabbit hole of DP x DC Au's, and no. I'm not mad about this! (OK, that's a tiny lie. I have three docs of TFP fandom that I need to finish) But anyway, I've had this idea, and yes, imma type it out since I have nothin' better to do anyway.

Also, this was loosely inspired by this amazin' writer Space-Dreams-World

And this is the thin' that inspired my dumbass to write Here!

Oh, and before I forget, I don't precisely remember how the comics go, so I'll probably just pull stuff outta my ass and call it a day (But hey, that's what Au's are for), but if it bothers you sorry, there's waaaay too much Batman lore and don't get me started on the Re-boots!

(I hope I didn't butcher your original idea too much, but I did say your writings loosely inspired this!)

___________

Danny, after comin' out to his parents that he's Phantom, didn't go too hot, but hey! he has multiple plans! He just didn't want to use this one...After all, who wants to live in a new dimension? He's also glad that he waited until he turned twenty-one so that he could actually leave.

Thanks to Sam siphonin' money outta her parent's money for him for years and Tucker makin' a new identity for him, a bonus is that if he went to a different dimension, it still worked!

In the end, it's better than bein' on a table in the GIW labs after his Mom turned him to said government, But it's actually not that bad. He met a cool guy named Thomas Wayne, who is really chill (Also not bad-lookin). He's been In this world for probably three years now.

He met Thomas a couple of months after he dropped into this world and set up his new name, Daniel (Danny) Nightingale. He even met his wife, Martha Wayne, And he moved into their place two years ago after he had a break-in. And it's been goin' great at this point. He's probably bein' healed hostage by both Waynes and Alfred. He's cool with it, tho!

They were even cool with him bein' a half-ghost and the King of the infinite realms, and why they found out? It was Skulker's fault. I mean, come on, who comes in at dinner and claims that he wants your pelt on his wall...Oh, wait! Skullker did. Yeah, it wasn't fun explainin' that it's just how he greets Danny after all these years and that he just wanted to have a friendly spar.

Then, one day, the Waynes learned somethin' that broke Danny's heart. Martha and Thomas were havin' a hard time gettin' pregnant they later learned that it was because Thomas was infertile.

One day, Both Martha and Thomas asked him a favor. They asked if he would be okay with helpin' them get pregnant. He's not gonna lie. It was a shocker, but he understands that he does look like Thomas a bit, and people have even called them brothers.

It also helped him out when he told them that he didn't mind helpin' them out, and since they were on the topic, he said to them that he had a little crush on both of them. They both blushed red as a tomato and told him they felt the same. They didn't really understand how it worked.

Yes, he did explain that more than one person could be in a relationship that it was called Polyamory and that he has experience with it. He dated a girl and a guy simultaneously before leaving his universe, and it worked out in the end. He started to date both of the Waynes, and Martha got pregnant with a baby boy!

All three of them were over the moon with that news, and after baby Bruce was born, both Thomas and Martha decided that he was a Wayne now, so officially, he's now Danny Nightingale-Wayne, but to outsiders, he's still just Nightingale.

Even then, the only person who knows is Alfred. When Bruce was learnin' to talk and ended up callin' him Da, he told them he was fine just bein' Bruce's Godfather or uncle. That didn't go well, so Danny is Pa, and Thomas is Dad.

Bruce didn't understand why he couldn't call Danny Pa out in public or around friends until Danny sat him down and explained that it was a secret that he was his Pa and to the world, he was just his Godfather and if anyone knew that he's was his Pa it could be bad for the family.

After the talk, Danny somewhat made a game out of it that Bruce was a super secret spy and that it was his job to protect the family (I haven't really thought of this, but I thought it would be cute) And Bruce did keep it a secret until his Mom and Dad where killed.

Danny was supposed to go with them to the movies until the Observants demanded that he return to the infinite realms for a council meetin'. While Danny was tryin' not to freeze every observant in the room for bein' straight up annoyin', he heard Bruce scream for his Mom and Dad. He then listened to his pained hiccups for his Pa to come and help them.

Danny froze. The room he was in got much colder as his core demanded him to protect his son, and he was also cryin' for his lover's death. Ice shards spread out in the room, makin' the occupants yell out in shock at what their King had done. Danny then stood up, and with a protective/pained growl, he tore open a portal and went to his son, leavin' the room in chaos.

He couldn't stop the pained whimpers from his mouth when he got there. His son, his little Galaxy, was cryin' over his parent's bodies. Danny's brightest Nebulas, his lifeline after he left his old home, was dead. Without a second thought, Danny de-transformed and quickly grabbed Bruce and held him close.

Bruce quickly grabbed onto his Pa and bawled his eyes out, sayin' how he was sorry that he couldn't save them, how he tried to protect them, how his shield failed, and that he couldn't heal them as Danny taught him.

(I think Bruce, while not bein' as ghostly as Danny, still could do more than the average liminal could. He would have a small ghost core. So he could technically make shields, and I like to think that Danny learned how to push his rapid healin' onto others and started to teach Bruce when he started to show signs of bein' a bit ghostly)

Danny shushed him and told him that he tried his best and that was all that mattered while havin' tears drip down his face. That was how the police found the two Danny sittin' on his knees while huggin' the cryin' Bruce into his chest, tryin' to hide the poor boy from the world.

Most people did accuse Danny of killin' the two until Bruce screamed at them, sayin' that his Godfather loved his parents and that he would rather hurt himself than harm his parents. Alfred also spoke up, sayin' that Danny has never tried to harm the Waynes and even pushed them out of the way if anythin' harmful ever came close to the family.

They dropped the accusation a week later after the police did indeed find out that Danny was nowhere near the scene of the crime, that he was at the airport gettin' back from somewhere, and that the only reason why Danny found them was because Thomas sent him an SOS and their location. (He's grateful that Tucker taught him how to hack)

After everythin' calmed down and Danny had full custody of Bruce, he spent most of his time in the manor with Bruce and Alfred, only goin' to the realms if he absolutely had to, and he started to teach Bruce more about his ghostly side per Bruce's request.

Bruce took more to the sneaky part of the ghost side. Danny also suspected that Bruce might have a shadow core or somethin' related to darkness. Bruce did have fun. He Bruce would try and sneak up on his Pa and Alfred. Danny suspected Alfred knew when Bruce was around and tryin' to get a drop on him. It wouldn't surprise Danny if it were true.

Everythin' was as normal as could be...Until Bruce went missin', Danny almost destroyed the manor with ice. Alfred did manage to calm him down after a while. Danny was heartbroken that he couldn't find anythin' for him or Alfred, but he could tell that Bruce was fine.

About a week after Bruce disappeared, he had no choice but to go back to the infinite realms for short to long periods of time as the Obervents demanded since his son disappeared and since Danny knew that he was safe somewhere in the dimension.

Yeah, he wasn't really pleased with that demand, but then again, messin' with those floatin' eyeballs bastards is good, but messin' with them durin' a meetin'? Even better, and hey, at least he got his frustration out.

At this point, it was probably a good couple of years since Bruce disappeared, and he did have a lot of fun pissin' off the Observents durin' one of the Obervent's "informative" meetings when he felt a pull on his core. Oh? A summon? It's been ages since the last.

When he let himself get pulled toward his "summoner" (and probably pissin' off the eyeball bastards even more), he found himself in a room with a summonin' circle under him, one that he noted didn't bind him just summoned him. He looked around the room and noticed that it had windows that showed space.

Before he would let himself delve into one of his obsessions, he looked down and almost groaned out when he saw a blond man with a trench coat. Great...John Constantine, the man who sold his soul to every damn thin' in the infinite realms, has summoned him? Mann, he already has 75% of his soul.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to say somethin' whitty towards the man, he felt somethin'. He felt his core try and pull him towards somethin'. Danny moved his eyes from the blondie and saw somethin' black move more into the shadows.

Danny narrowed his eyes. That action was so familiar to Danny. He then raised his hand and snapped his finger, lightin' up the room he was in with green flames. He heard some alarmed shouts and a curse from the blondie, but he paid no attention to them. His eyes were on the man in the black cowl.

The man noticeably stiffened, and a sheepish smile spread on his face. What? It couldn't be. Danny floated down to the ground and walked over to the man. He could tell that the man was fidgetin' more the closer he got to him until Danny stood before him. The man was a bit shorter than him, but then again, he was 8 feet tall in this form and 7 feet in his human one.

He could feel the emotions comin' off of him: anxiety, family, and happiness. Danny felt his eyes whidden and a lump in his throat form it was! He felt water buildin' up in the corners of his eyes. He then spoke out two words he thought he might never hear again.

"Little Galaxy?" he crocked out. The man stiffened for a second, then relaxed. "Yeah, it's me, Pa," Bruse said with a smile, his voice crackin' a little. Oh, ancients! His son! he found his son, his little Galaxy.

Danny fell to his knees, grabbed Bruce, and hugged him just like he would when Bruce was younger. Bruce quickly wrapped his arms around Danny and curled into his chest.

"Oh, my little Galaxy! Where have you been!? And why in the realms would you just disappear like that! You gave me and Mister A a heart attack!" Danny scolded.

He could feel the guilt off of Bruce in waves. "I'm sorry, Pa, I just-" Danny sighed when Bruce couldn't finish his sentence. Danny understood he wanted to get revenge for his Mom and Dad. He truly understood. After all, he tried to find the person but never could finish findin' them before the council called on him.

Danny was about to speak before a throat clearin' got his attention. He looked over to the sound and saw a woman. By the looks of it, she was an Amazonian, and right next to her was a man with an S on his chest, a Kryptonian? They looked calm, but he could see the subtle way they held themselves. They were goin' to attack if they saw him as a threat.

Danny smiled. It seemed that Bruce got himself some good friends...? that's not the correct term, so he looked a bit closer at the two. He then promptly lost his shit. His laugh startled everyone. When he finally calmed down, he turned to his son, wiggled his eyebrows, and tilted his head towards the two somewhat behind him.

Bruce coughed into his fist, and Danny would bet that he was blushing from the tip of his ears down to his neck. Subtley nodded his head. Danny snorted, then stood up and brought Bruce to his side. Yeah, he's not lettin' his son go any time soon, thank you very much! "Ahem, please forgive my rudeness." Danny tilted his head down a bit towards the two.

Blondie decided to speak up. "What in the blood hell?" Danny snorted at the man. "Ah, again, forgive. I haven't seen this kid in a while," he said to the room.

Bruce coughed into his hand. Everyone turned their heads towards him, "Justice League, If I may, this is Phantom or, as I like to call him, Pa." Danny tried not to laugh. Bruce seemed a little troublemaker even though he was all grown up.

Everyone in the room froze until the Kryptonian spoke up. "Batman, what the hell? I thought that...." he questioned, then trailed off at the end. Danny snorted Batman? Oh, he's totally bringin' that up soon, but first...

Danny put a hand to his core and fanned hurt. "Oh, the pain! My son never told his friends about me? I'm betrayed!" he floated onto his back, playin' hurt.

The woman snorted into her hand, and Bruce groaned quietly. "Oh, this makes so much sense now," Constantine muttered. While still on his back, Danny raised an eyebrow and then looked toward Bruce. The Man subtly tilted his head to show that he also had no clue what the man in the trench coat meant.

"What is the supposed to mean, Constantine?" the Amazonian woman spoke to the man.

Blondie just sighed and took a flask out of his pocket and took a large gulp, then spoke, "I thought that you could tell Bats has more... Supernatural tendencies, so it makes sense if Bats grew up around the King of ghosts." he told the League "I'm just more curious how he met him" Constantine sighed.

"How he/I met him/me? We met when I/he was born!" Danny and Bruse spoke at once.

Constantine spat his drink out. "Wait, what!?... Y'know what, never mind, So KIng Phantom knew Bat's parents then when he was born became a liminal, " Constantine muttered. Danny then righted himself and wrapped his arm around Bruce once more.

"Actually, you're wrong, Galxay here is part ghost!" Danny informed the League with a Smile, Showin' too much inhuman teeth. After some silence, the woman spoke up. "If I may, what does that mean, your Highness?" she spoke calmly.

"Ah, please just call me Phantom! It also means that Galaxy is 3/4 Part ghost? Maybe a bit more? He does feel a bit different than the last time I saw him, but then again, his core was still growin'," he said, trailin’ off at the end.

Constantine threw his hands up in the air and then froze. He slowly looked at the two. "Wait...Bats, does that mean that Phantom is your Birth father?" Constantine asked with his hands twitchin' like they wanted to grab somethin'.

Every head turned towards Batman and Danny, and the two looked at each other and then at the Leauge, "Yes," they spoke as one. "HOW!?" most of the League shouted. Danny shrugged. "Eh, this was before I dated' both his parents. We learned his other Dad was infertile, and that was sort of the openin' that we needed to explain that we three liked each other. Ultimately, it worked out fine, so a win is a win!".

The League turned their heads to Batman and said the man nodded yes, that what came out of the ghost King's mouth was true.

That day, the Justice League was out of order and needed a proper reboot, and yes, Danny did indeed have the time of his un-dead life. Afterward, he even got to meet his son's lovers.

While the four were together, Danny brought up that poly and vigilantism must run in the family or somethin' so off-handedly that it had Clark and Diana laughin'. Bruce just grumbled at his Pa.

After that shit show of a reunion, Bruce took Danny back to the manor. He caught up with Alfred, and they made a plan that would remind Bruce that if he ever disappeared again and scared the shit out of them again, he was goin' to regret it. Bruce havin' no clue as to what they were talkin' about and frankly didn't want to know promised himself never to piss off his two parents again.

(Bruce still sees Alfred as a father figure. Danny did an excellent job bein' home every day, but sometimes the Observents won in their crusade.

They demanded that Danny be present in their meetings at least once a week, and of course, they could and would go on for days about their topic, even if it was a stupid one, just to keep him there.

And if some of them got put on ice just by suggestin' that he left his son to the mortals to be raised, it was no one's business but Danny's.)

__________

Okay, so this was supposed to be a bit longer, and it would have Danny meetin' Dick and then later Jason, but I decided to split it in half-ish, and if the people want to see the rest of my crappy writin', then I might share it.

I also mainly wanted to get this out and see how it went cause I am very happy with how most of this turned out. I am also runnin' out of motivation so~ but hey, I hoped you liked it!

Part 2 to this shit show!

[fandomnerd9602]

Break

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

You and Petra Parker, the Spectacular Spider Girl were happily married. Life was good and a proper balance of work, college, and superhero stuff. You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

And then Petra told you she was pregnant. You were on cloud nine. The woman of your dreams was going to having your baby. Your dad, the always showboating Tony Stark, was already a doting grandpa and the baby wasn’t even born yet.

He showed up with a moving truck full of baby stuff, clothes, and diapers. “Let me know if you need anything else” your dad gave you and Petra a genuine smile. “I want my grandson to want for nothing”

“What if it’s a little girl, Mr Stark?” Petra asked with a little smirk.

“Even more so” he gave a shrug before jumping in his Lamborghini.

Aunt May practically spent every day over at your house from that point on. She already trying to coach her niece thru the first trimester, cooking meals, helping with the nursery, etc.

You and Petra couldn’t be happier. But you could tell something was on your wife’s mind. It all started at the end of the first trimester. She was started to show signs of a pregnant belly.

You found you and her getting ready for patrol. Petra just looked at herself in the mirror, costume at her ankles and only standing there in her skivvies.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You approached her and wrapped her in a hug from behind, locking eyes with her in the mirror.

Her eyes were full of tears and a bit of sadness, “I can’t.”

“What?”

“I can’t be Spider Girl anymore” she whispered. Her hands were gently caressing her belly.

“I wouldn’t say anymore” you countered.

“Our baby is my main responsibility and priority, Stark” she said back. She turned in your arms to face you. Her lips were mere inches from yours. “I just want what’s best for little May”

“May?” You smiled at her, “that’s what you want to name her? Little May?”

You nuzzle Petra, earning a giggle from your favorite Web-Head.

“Yeah.” Petra giggled, “we can call her May-May as a nickname.”

“I love it. And I love you.” You gently rubbed her arms, reassuring her as best you could, “I support you. And I’m proud of you. Our baby’s gonna have a super mom”

“You’re so corny” Petra buries her head in your neck. How you love her scent, the way her head fits perfectly into the crook of your neck.

You smiled, “our baby. It’s so surreal to say”

“I know” she whispered back.

So Petra had to briefly retire from that point on. The Spectacular Spider Girl disappeared for about a year. No one knew why.

It didn’t matter if anyone else knew. All you and Petra cared about was the family you and her were building together.

And that’s all that truly mattered, just you, Petra and little May-May.

Tags: @jacelion @ma1egamer @multi-fandom-enjoyer @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @mostlymarvelsstuff @deafeningsharkslimeempath @iamnicodemus @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @wombatking @lifespectator @aloneodi @abimess @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @russianredassassin @revanshand @tokufighter

[athanza]

Starlett - Part 2

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some Cooper dad fluff because why not ♡

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse and (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 3 | Final part

2296

The harsh sun was setting now which meant he needed to find somewhere to settle in for the night. The rickety second floor of one of these buildings would be the best option so he'd have a good vantage point if something were to happen.

As he searched for the right building he began to hear muffled screaming coming from further in the crumbled town. At first, he couldn't give a rat's ass, but he needed to know if it was a big enough threat for him to keep moving.

It didn't take long for gunshots to begin ringing out through the ruins, but they were only from 3 separate guns...then 2...then 1.

As he reached the area where the shots were coming from, the sounds of a pissed off Yao Guai became apparent, and there was one singular person left to fight it off but she looked like she was badly injured.

"You son of a bitch!!" She yelled when her gun jammed and the wounded beast readied itself for another charge.

As it lunged at her one more time a shotgun shell slammed into the side of it's head and it went down, a pink mist left in the air for a moment as the rest of it's brains splattered to the ground.

The woman turned to where the shot came from to see Cooper walking casually towards her, unable to see his face very well in the dark. She pointed her now un-jammed rifle at him just in case.

"Those things'll kill ya." He quipped.

"Yeah, no shit." She replied, wincing at the pain from a gash on her side.

He cocked his head a little. Her voice sounded familiar.

"Why don't you put down that gun so I can cut myself some bear hide and be on my way?"

She scoffed. "So you can shoot me in the face and steal all my shit? No thanks cowboy."

That was it, the confirmation he didn't think he'd get.

"Irene?" He said.

The woman paused briefly, then aimed her gun properly. "How do you know my name?"

He stepped a little closer so that the light from the lantern on the ground could illuminate his face.

It took her a moment but she recognised his eyes and immediately lowered her weapon.

"Cooper?"

2077

A scream woke Cooper up in the middle of the night and he instinctively got up and ran to his daughter's room.

"Daddy!" Janey cried when she saw him.

He came over and hugged her tightly. "Hey, hey, it's ok, it was just a dream, you're ok."

She cried into him for a moment before spluttering "Why don't you and mommy love each other anymore?"

That caught him off guard. He had no idea what to say and it hurt so much hearing her say that.

"It's not that we don't love each other honey, it's just..." He tried desperately to search for the right words. "Well...your mom and I just disagree on somethin' really important and we tried to figure it out but it was too hard."

"What did you disagree on?"

"Well...that's grown up stuff baby girl."

She sulked quietly, putting her head back on his chest.

"We still love you very very much, that hasn't changed at all."

"Is it my fault?" She asked and his heart broke.

"No baby girl, no, not at all. None of this is your fault."

"I know I haven't been doing my homework, and I don't always feed Roosevelt when I'm told and-"

He cut her off, kneeling beside the bed so he could look her in the eyes. "Janey," he held her hands. "None of this is your fault. Your mother and I loved you since the day we found out we were gonna have you. And when you were born, we looked at you and we just cried and cried.

I have never been prouder or happier than I was in that moment. And you know what? That hasn't changed a bit, not even a little."

Janey smiled, her face still wet with leftover tears.

"Really?" She sniffed.

"Yes." Cooper chuckled, scooping her up and hugging her again and she giggled. "Now, how about a hot chocolate, with double marshmallows?"

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

She hugged him as he carried her downstairs. "I love you daddy." She said.

His chest burst with warmth and happiness and he smiled. "I love you too sweetheart."

The next morning, Janey was watching cartoons on the TV while eating her breakfast and Cooper sipped greatfully at his cup of hot coffee, having not gotten much sleep.

He smiled as he heard his daughter giggle at the TV, her mouth full of cereal, and sat down at the dining table with his newspaper.

But just as he sat down the loud ringing from the telephone rang out through the kitchen and he sighed heavily.

"I'll get it!" Janey yelled and ran over, hoping it was her mother. Her face dropped when it wasn't her mother's voice she heard on the other end of the line. "Yeah he's here, I'll put him on."

Cooper looked up at her tone and she held the receiver out to him. "It's for you dad."

He walked over and took it, kissing her on the head before she went back to her cartoons.

"Hello?" He said.

"Mr. Howard, it's Irene. I'm sorry to call you at home but I need your help."

Her voice told him it was serious. "What's wrong?"

"You were right. About Frank. I know we barely know each other but I need somewhere to stay for the night before I go to my mother's up in Sacramento. Lee...Lee doesn't know."

"I uh..."

"...no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you." She said.

"No, no, it's ok. I'll make up the guest room for you."

He could hear a faint sigh of relief in her answer. "Thank you, so much, I owe you one."

He gave her his address and they hung up.

"Who was that dad?" Asked Janey.

"A friend from work. She needs a place to stay tonight so she's gonna stay in the guest bedroom. You'd like her."

She kind of shrugged in an uninterested way and took another bite of her cereal, her attention back on the TV.

He hoped no one sees Irene at his house, that's the last thing he needs in the papers, especially now.

Part 1 | Part 3

[jisforjudi2]

THE FAITHFUL SECRETARY

Chicago Tribune

UPDATED: August 10, 2021 at 12:23 a.m.

Before the women’s movement, back when Father knew best and network TV made room for Daddy, when Mary Tyler Moore was Laura Petrie, not Mary Richards, actress Barbara Hale was playing a single working woman on TV.

Hale, now 71, remembers what appealed to her about the role of Della Street, secretary to lawyer Perry Mason on the series that was based on the mysteries by Erle Stanley Gardner.

“When we started (in 1956), it was the beginning of women not working at home. I liked that she was not married. My husband didn’t have to see me every week married to another man, and our children didn’t have to see me mothering other children.

“When (my son) Billy was in the 1st grade, we went to school for the first parent meeting, and on his desk were little projects he’d made-pictures of Daddy and Mommy and his sister and his animals. And underneath my picture-I wish I had it now, but the teacher kept it-he’d written in inch-high block letters, `This is my mom. I love her. She is a secretary.”‘

On Friday, the latest Perry Mason two-hour movie, “The Case of the Telltale Talk Show Host,” will air on NBC, one of seven productions that will carry the courtroom stalwart and his unflappable Girl Friday into 1994.

“I guess I was just meant to be a secretary who doesn’t take shorthand,” she quips. “My assistant wants you to know I’m a lousy typist too-33 words a minute!”

The Emmy award-winning actress is a Hollywood survivor-going into her second half-century in a profession she never dreamed of pursuing. A veteran of the old studio system and of television’s infancy, her co-stars in those early years were household names-Sinatra and Cagney and Stewart and Mitchum-when she was the ingenue.

RKO Studios was her “paid education,” as she puts it, her training ground. She met her husband, actor Bill Williams (who died several months ago), over coffee at the studio commissary.

Today, she still offers ample evidence of the effervescent beauty she was in the ’40s and ’50s-and even earlier, in Rockford High School, when her buddies entered her in a May Queen contest and she won. “I still know them, dear, and we 15 get together every three years. It takes three years to get over the three days we spend together!”

Her career seems to have evolved from being on the right Chicago street corner at the right time.

The daughter of a Rockford horticulturist and a homemaker, Hale (born in DeKalb) was studying at the Chicago Academy of Fine Arts, living at the Harriet M. McCormick branch of the YWCA and planning a career as a commercial illustrator and portraitist.

One day, as school let out for the summer, she was standing at the corner near the Drake Hotel with a girlfriend who’d come to town for a couple of weeks to look for modeling work. While they were waiting for the bus taking them to the North Side, a car drove up and someone tossed a card at them. It referred them to a modeling agency.

“A couple of weeks later, I went to see my buddies, and I told one of them the story about the card,” she recalls.

“She said, `Barb, you’re kidding! I was sitting in the little coffee shop at work this morning, and a lady came in and sat next to me, because it was the only seat left. She was pouting. I asked if she had a problem, and she said, “Yes, darn it. I have a model agency and I saw this kid on a corner, in a red coat, and can’t track her down. She’s exactly what one of our ad agencies is looking for.” Barb, what coat did you have on that day?

“I said, `My red coat-it’s the only coat I have.’ And she said, `Barb, I think that card was meant for you.”‘

It was. Hale went in to the Seaman Agency, and stopped Connie Seaman in her tracks. “She said, `Oh, my God-honey, don’t move! Al, get over here quick!’ Al came in and said, `It is her! Let’s see-we’ll shape her eyebrows, put on a little more lipstick, pull her hair back … ‘ and I said, `Just a minute, sir-what are we talking about?”‘

Hale was “a green 19” when she began fashion modeling, and after about a year and a half, RKO offered her a six-month tryout. The day after she arrived in Los Angeles, she visited the studio and its casting director, Dick Stockton.

“As I was shaking hands with him, the phone rang. He took the call, and as he listened, he started looking at me. `Yeah, yeah, yeah, just a minute.’ He turned to me and asked, `Honey, can you say a line?’ I said, `I don’t know.’ He said into the phone, `There’s a kid in the office right now. I think she’ll work. I’ll send her right over.’ He told his assistant, `Take her to wardrobe, take her to makeup, take her to Stage 6. One of the kids is sick. We’ve got to have a girl there immediately.’

“It hit every paper the next day. Cinderella story. First day on the lot, she gets-of course they said a starring part. I had one line, but you know about those things.”

Apart from that walk-on, in “Gildersleeve’s Bad Day,” she made her debut in 1944 in “Higher and Higher,” opposite Frank Sinatra.

Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, Ginger Rogers and Jane Russell were all at RKO then. So was Burr-who would be her TV series co-star about a dozen years later.

Hale studied dancing and singing at the studio. She began to appear on screen regularly-four movies in 1944, two in 1945-and eventually won leads in such movies as “The Boy With Green Hair,” “The Window,” “Jolson Sings Again” and “The Jackpot,” performing even while pregnant.

“I told Billy (her son, actor William Katt, who starred in the television series “The Greatest American Hero”) he should put on his resume that he was in `The Jackpot’ and `Lorna Doone,’ and he said, `Mother, I wasn’t,’ and I told him, `Oh, yes, you were!”‘

She continued her movie career and was a mainstay of television dramas until 1956, when a producer offered her the Della Street part in the pilot of what turned out to be a 9 1/2-year run. Hale went on to win an Emmy for best dramatic actress for the role in 1959.

“We did 36 shows that first year,” she says. “And we’re still doing it!”

She says that Della “was-and still is, to a great degree-a woman who knew what everybody was thinking. She was informed, and very observant of everything that went on. That was my challenge as an actress-to be a necessary part of the office without being too aggressive. Della was quietly overpowering: She knew when to speak and when to keep her mouth closed.”

Hale sees Della as having remained constant, to an extent. Her task is basically the same. But there have been some subtle emotional changes.

“I think she’s a little more at home, relaxed, showing her knowledge not only of the case, but also of her boss. In the early days, it was all business. Today there’s more of a camaraderie between them, a little more humor and more sensitivity to each other, which comes with years of being side by side.

“She’s trying to see that he stays healthy,” she says. “She’s taking him off coffee.

After nearly 300 episodes, “Perry Mason” folded in 1966.

In the mid-1970s, the show returned briefly with other actors and faded quickly. During the ’70s and early ’80s, Hale worked sporadically. She was in the original “Airport” in 1970, and appeared opposite her son in a 1978 surfing movie, “Big Wednesday.”

In 1985, producer Dean Hargrove asked her what she thought of the idea of a “Perry Mason” reunion show. She told him, “it would be divine, but we are 25 or 30 years older than we were then.” He said the intention was to use them as they were and to bring in a few new young actors to replace cast members William Talman, Ray Collins and William Hopper, who had died.

“Dean said, `There’s a young blond kid in town. I want to talk to him, not his agent. He’s done a series-“The Greatest American Hero.” But I can’t reach him.’

“I said, `Oh, well, that young man is in Kansas City doing “The Music Man” right now, and I can get you in touch with him if you want.’ And Dean asked, `You know him?’ I said, `Dean, I changed that boy’s diapers!’ Billy played in the first nine (Perry Mason) movies, then went on to another series of his own.”

“Perry Mason Returns” in 1985 was a Nielsen triumph, and with Perry stepping down from a judgeship to defend Della against murder charges in the first episode. From then on, the Mason bunch have visited America’s living rooms every few months.

After nearly four decades, Hale says the role of Della still offers unexpected moments.

“This week, at the end of the show, very quietly and very surprisingly, Perry plants one on Della,” Hale says. “It’s a first!”

Originally Published: May 16, 1993 at 1:00 a.m.

www.chicagotribune.com/1993/05/16/the-faithful-secretary/

[girlwiththeobsessions]

love sick c. f.

this book has also been published on wattpad. same username as the one on here. i update faster on there.

you and conrad had a secret relationship two summers ago, when you were 15 and he was 16. you broke up with him because your younger sister, belly had liked him, and you were afraid of hurting her. now, flash forward, you were 17, and you thought you had gotten over him, but maybe you haven’t

you are adopted in this! y/n's parents were close with the fishers and conklins but died in a car accident, so laurel adopts y/n

part 2

i. the drive

ME AND MY FAMILY have been coming to cousins since i was a baby, since before i was born.

the tradition was, me and my mom would go to the summer beach house in cousins, along with my moms friends, laurel park and susannah fisher, and laurel's daughter and son, and susannah's two sons.

the beach house felt magical, every summer, i couldn't wait to return each summer.

most of the time, me and belly would tag along with the moms, mostly just my mom.

my mom would take us shopping a lot, and get us frozen yogurt after, then we'd go swimming.

laurel and susannah didn't really like to swim with us. that's what made my mom so special. until both of my parents died. when i was seven. in a car crash.

my parents were my whole world. i miss them everyday.

after that happened, i had to move from north carolina to pennsylvania with the conklin's.

from what i remember, i was pretty shut down for the next two years, and sad all the time, but eventually i got better.

laurel had taken me in with her, john, steven, and belly, and i had my last name changed to l/n-conklin.

i had found hobbies to cope with my parents death. in sixth grade, i had taken up soccer. in eighth grade, i started volleyball. now, as a junior, i was on my schools soccer and volleyball team.

i was pretty smart too, academically. with my grades averaging with a's and b's since freshman year. i wanted to go to college, my dream school was university of southern california, usc.

today though, was the day i returned to cousins for the summer, of course, i was excited. i was in belly's room, packing, with taylor jewel, me and belly were both close friends with her.

"drew's bummed you're missing the beach match with the boys team next weekend." taylor told belly, laying down on the bed, on her phone.

belly turned around. "uh, make sure tell sophie to square up for the block." belly tells taylor, ignoring what she said.

"drew martinez is texting me about you, and you're talking about volleyball?" taylor said with a surprised expression.

"drew doesn't care if i'm there or not, he wants an excuse to text you." belly denied, not really acknowledging the fact that she had a glow up basically. "and you better take this game seriously, i mean, team pride is on the line, taylor."

"please, you know me better than that." taylor looked up. "i would never let a boy beat me at anything."

belly and i laughed. "i thought you came here to help us pack." belly smiled.

"fine.." taylor got up. "i'll help. here's a tip, don't bring that speedo. it doesn't do a thing for your new boobs." taylor said with a a laugh, sitting on belly's bed, flipping through a magazine.

"it's not a speedo." belly defended with a frown looking down at the swimsuit.

"yes it is." i intervene, looking at my phone.

"we're just saying babes, like you need to pack cute things." taylor says flipping a page in the magazine she's reading.

"well, i always buy a new suit when i get there." belly tells us with a smile.

"okay, well, buy one that doesn't look like you're trying out for the swim team." i pressed.

"are you serious y/n?" belly giggled, flopping onto the bed and launching herself onto me.

"girls! were leaving in the next 10 minutes!" laurel shouted from downstairs.

"we got to go." belly said with a frown.

"no, we don't, we still have 10 minutes!" i told the two of them with a smirk.

we started laughing again, but once it stopped, we sat on the bed, belly on the floor, taylor switching to a more serious tone.

"okay, before i let you both go you both have to tell me your summer wishes. like the one thing that you guys want to happen this summer."

"i don't know." belly took a deep sigh.

"you little liar, yes you do." taylor giggled at belly.

"you want a hot make out sesh with conrad fisher, you want his tongue in your mouth, you dirty little slut!" taylor joked.

i shifted uncomfortably, trying to plaster a laugh. "taylor! ew."

"i'm just saying, i mean, you've been in love with him since we were twelve." taylor reminded her as belly got up.

"it doesn't matter what i do, he doesn't see me that way." belly frowned.

"oh, he'll see you." i looked at belly up and down. "whether he wants to or not. you look a lot different than last summer, belly."

taylor laughed, then turned to me. "what about you, y/n?"

i looked away. "what about me?"

"your summer wish." taylor reminded me.

"i don't know yet." i sighed. "i guess go to a lot of parties, and make more friends."

"no boyfriend? no fling?" taylor asked, a little confused. "come on y/n, a whole summer on the beach? no nothing?"

"oh wow, big deal, a seventeen year old that doesn't care about a boyfriend." i sighed again. "i guess i've never really been that interested in getting a boyfriend." i shrugged. "i have other priorities."

i did. i applied for a job as a lifeguard at the country club, to get some money for college. i wanted to apply to ucla, it was my dream school.

i always try to keep myself busy, keep myself doing something productive, and i think the job would help.

"girls, we're leaving now!"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

during the drive, belly got shotgun, steven was driving, and i sat in the backseat with mom, which i didn't really mind.

the song 'can't do better' by kim petras was blasting, while belly sung along from the top of her lungs.

i unbuckled my seatbelt and spread my legs across the backseat.

"uh, can you guys turn it down a little?" laurel asked. "and, y/n, sit right."

i sighed and sat straight, buckling my seatbelt. "i want you guys to be better about helping out this summer." laurel told us.

"don't just leave your dishes, load them into the dishwasher. and, not just your dish either, steven. i want you to be good houseguests." she continued.

"mom, susannah has people who clean, doesn't she?" steven asked, curiously.

laurel flicked steven on the head. "steven!"

"owww!" steven complained. "alright, alright. sorry."

mom is weird about money, the fact that susannah has money, and we don't.

"just.. be considerate, and act like i raised you right. steven, y/n, that means don't stay out too late."

"mommmm!" we both complained.

"i'm too old for a curfew." i frowned.

"wait, what about me? i don't have a curfew either, right?" belly asked from the front seat.

steven started to laugh. "what do you need a curfew for? you don't go anywhere."

"steven!" i threw my phone charger at him. "don't be a jackass."

"what?" steven continued laughing.

"we'll talk about it when it comes up." laurel told belly.

"oh, and y/n, don't forget, you promised you'd take me driving." belly reminded me.

"belly, i told you i'd take you." laurel intervened.

"yeah, but.. you're too judgy." belly quietly said.

me and steven started laughing. "excuse me?" laurel asked.

"yeah, sorry." belly laughed too.

we parked in front of the gas station me, belly, and mom going in.

belly got some cheetos and sour patches. she opened the bag of cheetos and ate a few.

"belly!" i whisper-yelled.

"what!?"

"at least pay for it first."

me and belly looked over at the register, to see a guy staring at us.

"hey." he nodded his head.

i smiled and waved, while belly grabbed a coke, and we brought our snacks up to the register.

"what's up with you, y/n?" jumper said with a smile.

"jumper? i didn't know you work here now." i said in surprise.

he turned to belly. "who's this? are you new this summer?"

belly looked behind her, then back at jumper. "uh, me? no.."

"really?" he smirked, and scanned the snacks. "thought i knew every pretty girl in cousins."

"ew, don't flirt with my little sister, idiot." i warned him.

to be honest, i wasn't really fond with jumper. the way he sort of treated girls like they were objects just wasn't too appealing to me.

he rolled his eyes. "whatever. you both coming to the bonfire tonight? first of the season."

"uh.. maybe." i responded.

"come!" he encouraged us, then turned to belly again with a smile. "i'll introduce you to some of my friends."

"maybe i will." belly smiled back

i gave belly a quick side eye. "maybe she won't." i look back to jumper, trying to protect belly.

laurel walked up to us. "after i get settled in, you wanna go to whale of a tale with me, so i can presign stock for the signing tonight?" she asked belly.

"uh..."

"remember.. when you used to sit on my lap when i used to sign there?" laurel continued

"no, i don't.. remember that." belly chuckled.

"i'll make you a deal." laurel said, as we walked out. "i'll let you pick out tonight's desert if you come in and keep me company."

"see you later." jumped smirked at belly.

"what's later?" laurel asked, curiously.

"nothing." belly responded, a little too quickly.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

END OF CHAPTER

[mj-102009]

When the Stars Align (Bakugou x oc)

The little girl gazed up at her mother, green irises filled with wonder and love. She’d always been a perceptive child, always asking questions on how the world worked, always getting into things she shouldn’t. 

“Momma,” she said softly with her feather light tap to her shoulder. “I have a-“

The woman lifted the eight year old on her lap. “-question? Go ahead Rae.”

She beamed and curled into her arms. “Why didn’t you and Dad get married like Ashlyn’s parents?”

Her mother chuckled. “I knew you’d ask that soon,” the girl opened her mouth to speak but got cut off. “Your father and I didn’t need to get married because when we were born we were meant to be together.”

“Why?” She chirped.

“Well our families have what’s called soulmates,” She saw the confusion on her daughter's face. “That means fate made us to be a match.”

Rae’s eyes blew wide. “Do I have a soulmate?”

She smiled and kissed Rae on the forehead. “Yes, yes you do.”

It started showing when she was 13, on her birthday at 12am exactly:

She had a dream.

In the dream she saw a boy about her age, he had dark green hair and eyes, for a brief moment she thought this was the boy she was meant to love forever, but the moment she truly looked at him she knew he wasn’t.

“Stupid Deku,” it was her mouth yet not her voice. “You’ll never be good enough to be a hero like me.”

A hero? She thought. This sure as heck doesn’t sound like one.

“Cmon Kacchan you know a quirk doesn’t make you a hero.”

Kid makes a point.

(Switching to first person)

I woke in a cold sweat, Anika shaking me quickly with wide eyes. “RAE!”

“I'M UP!” 

She sighed. “Dude your quirk started in your sleep and shit started shifting in my room.”

I was wide awake running into the hall. “Mom!”

My dad opened the door with a stern look. “Someone better explain to me why our house is backwards.”

I winced and looked down. “That would be me.”

Concern filled his eyes, replacing the anger. “What happened?”

So I told him and my mother what I saw, by the end Anika was jumping up and down. “I’m so excited.”

I frowned. “For what?”

Mom and dad made eye contact. “You remember how we came from families of soulmates?”

My breath hitched. “You mean-“

She smiled and Ani squealed. “You and your soulmate are both 13 now!”

I’d given up on the whole soulmate thing for a while. I saw his memories every night, most of which were about victory in some form, or about the boy named Deku. 

I came back to it after I turned 15.

All leading up to afternoon was tame, that was until I happened to glance at my wrist.

Train at 3 today 

Tell Mom to buy pens

Call Na-

I watched in fascination as the sentence finished before me, the only thing I felt was a light press of a pen.

Dad saw my baffled gaze and followed my eyes to my forearm. “Moora come in the kitchen!”

Soon the whole family gathered around my arm.

Anika, now 17, elbowed my stomach. “That means your his age too.”

I made a curious face and seized a pen. “What if I…”

Hello :)

Mom chuckled. “Our little girl’s all grown up.”

It took him a few hours to respond but I felt it.

Hey 

I picked up my pen and scribbled the answer with a small smile.

Hey

Sorry I didn’t say anything the first time

It’s okay no rush

He was silent for a moment, as was I.

I’m I frowned as my name faded from my skin.

You’re what

It won’t let me write my name 

I tried again and groaned as the entire sentence faded into the carmel tan of my skin.

Me either

Damn I pulled myself up from my window sill and sat in the nest of pillows on my bed.

Won’t allow my number either

It’s like it doesn’t want us to meet

I’m getting mixed signals from fate or some shit

I snorted and wiped down my arm, Question

Shoot

Do you see my memories when you sleep?

No tf i have a little red string on my pinky telling me which way to go

BRO WE CAN DEADASS GET THIS OVER WITH IF YOU JUST FOLLOW IT

I tried but it disappears if I do 

Fuck fate fr

Lol

We talked into the early hours of the morning, I learned Deku’s name was really Izuku and he was his old friend, I learned Kacchan was a stupid nickname he came up with when they were kids, I learned he wanted to be a hero when he grows up, I learned that he didn’t want a soulmate in the beginning.

Oh I wrote when he told me.

Not now tho after i got your first message I felt like it would be wrong to push you away

So I’m not an extra

Of course u r

Tf

Just not the worst one

I’ll take it

I told him about my family and my friends, I told him about my quirk and that I too wanted to be a hero, I told him about how I didn’t believe my soulmate was real until I saw the writing.

Why? He asked when I told him.

A lot of what I saw in my dreams was just yelling and explosions so I was convinced I was insane it took a while for my parents to really get me to understand but even then I was afraid you’d be someone who hates me like other people

I’ll kill anyone who hurts you

Thank you seemed like the wrong thing to say to that, any sane person would’ve called the police and gotten scared, but I laughed and rolled over with a smile. Immediately groaning when I saw the sun peaking out my window.

The sun just came up here

Same

Do you live in, the word Japan faded and I smacked my forehead.

I live in

I’m not even gonna try and put down what school I go too

Fate sucks fr

Not that bad

How so?

I met a girl who doesn’t give a fuck that I’m an ass

I flushed from head to toe Lucky girl

I'm the lucky one

Nope

Yup

Nope

Yup

No I’m far luckier for meeting someone who doesn’t care that I’m strange

You’re not strange whoever believes that is wrong

And you’re not an ass

I woke to the ceiling with the blank stare, my face in a tired frown, bags practically tattooed under my eyes.

Morning

That got me up, I slid out of bed and reached for my pen.

How’d you sleep?

Good and you?

Meh some extras blowing up my phone all night,

I giggle and walk down stairs with the pen, Anika rolls her eyes at my cheerful state. “Sup fucknugget.”

With a frown I use my quirk and spin her chair around, the floorboards rippling around at my command. Dad came down stairs and lightly hit me on the back of my head. “Fix my floor Rae.”

I turned the wood back to its original position with a huff, Dad mumbling a thank you and pouring me a cup of coffee. “What’s on the agenda Rae?”

Shrugging, I tell him. “I’m off work, might just take a nap.”

Anika gasps. “No! You told me we’d train for my admissions test.”

My idiot sister waited until she was 21 to become a licensed hero, so now she was asking me to train her on everything before the big test.

“Sure, what time?” I truly didn’t care when we went, I just needed the training.

“After breakfast?”

“‘Kay, just be ready.”

“C’mon Bakugou!” Denki begged again.

“No.”

“Really bro?” Kirishima deadpanned. “He can go with-”

He glared at him. “No, don’t side with Dunce Face.”

“Pleeeeease, my friend and I went to a pretty beach just a few minutes away, it’s super hidden so no one will film.”

Kiri rolled his eyes. “You can go Denki.”

Bakugou whirled on him but after these years Kiri had far outgrown him, now towering the blonde. “Fine,” he grumbled, turning to leave. “Hurry the fuck up.”

“Yay!”

“I took my friend to the beach yesterday to train. It was so much fun,” Anika chirped as I drove down the road. 

I shot her a look. “Did you tell him about-”

“No Rae I didn’t,” she said exasperated. “I wouldn’t tell a secret like that.”

“Sure.”

She smacked my arm. “I wouldn’t.”

“Mhm.”

“Rae,” She said dead serious. “I’m your older sister and I’m so proud of your accomplishments, I would never jeopardize your job.”

I laughed softly. “I know, I just worry for the day people find out I’m Atlas, hell even my soulmate doesn’t know, it won’t let me tell him.”

“Sometimes the filter really bothers me,” She told me. “I understand the pain of not being able to tell him the full story.”

I nodded solemnly, pulling into the public beach parking spot. “C’mon time to walk.”

“Only thing I hate about this beach.”

“What the hell Kami!” Kiri shouted, throwing his hands up around him. “You said you knew where we were going.”

He chuckled nervously under the glares of his friends. “Oops.”

Bakugou was practically boiling in rage and frustrating. “Thanks a lot Dunce Face, now we’re lost and our phones aren’t working.”

“What if we make a flare?” Kiri mused. “Would that work?”

He flicked his forehead. “No stupid, we’d light the whole forest on fire.”

The boys were just giving up hope, in the middle of the woods with barely enough water to last the day and one granola bar.

Bakugou’s head perked up when he saw his wrist.

Are you okay I feel like something’s wrong

He rifled for a pen and wrote down an answer.

Denki got us lost on a hike

The fuck? Are you okay???

Yeah just angry

I’m mad there’s nothing I can do

Lol

“AWEEEEEE,” Kiri squealed looking over his shoulder. “She’s so nice!”

Bakugou got ready to punch his best friend but got cut off.

“OW, YOU BITCH!” The yell came from the right of them.

Denki sighed and looked at the boys. “Told you we weren’t lost,” but stopped when he saw Bakugou’s sparking hands.

“Let’s just ask for directions and get out of here.”

Anika rubbed here arm and swore after I punched her arm. “That was uncalled for.”

“What if I’d stabbed your arm,” I told her. “You wouldn’t be complaining then.”

“Uh no, I’d definitely complain either way.”

I rolled my eyes and dropped into a fighting stance. “Round four, three-nothing.”

She groaned but raised herself into an acceptable stance. “Ready.”

We circled each other, I called upon my quirk, the sand shifted with me as I stepped, neither of us made a move  to attack. She lunged forward to grab me but I spun away with grace of a dancer, under my feet the sands balanced me.

I watched as she pulled in air and released it in a loud WHOOSH, pushing me over closer to the water.

She continued to throw gusts of wind at me, each more forceful than the last.

“You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?” I shouted over the roaring wind, a grin forming on my face.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Just a little,” she replied, sending another gust, this time aimed at my feet, causing me to momentarily lose balance.

Using my quirk, I swiftly transformed the sand beneath my feet into a firmer platform, allowing me to stand my ground. I then molded the sand into a series of barriers, hoping to deflect her relentless attacks.

But Anika was quick. She directed her gusts upwards, sending spirals of sand high into the night sky. I watched, a bit awed by her skill, as the sand took the form of large birds, flapping and soaring over the beach, aiming at me.

Laughing, I decided to up the ante. I pulled moisture from the surrounding air, turning it into droplets of water which quickly crystallized into sharp, gleaming icicles. With a flick of my wrist, I sent them darting around Anika, not to hurt, but to challenge.

She deftly manipulated the wind to create a vortex around her, causing my icicles to swirl harmlessly before melting away. "Is that the best you can do?" she teased.

Taking a deep breath, I focused my energy. The sand around Anika began to ripple, forming a series of walls, which quickly transformed into a box to hold her. She looked around, momentarily surprised, before a sly grin formed on her face. She summoned wind currents to lift her up, attempting to get a bird's-eye view of my creation.

I wasn’t about to make it that easy for her. As she ascended, I manipulated the atoms in the air, creating a dense fog, obscuring her vision. I could hear her groan of frustration.

Descending back to the ground, she tried to break through, I reshaped and shifted the walls constantly, making it a challenge for her. But after some time she tore through the ground blowing up the box from below.

A migraine fuzed the corners of my vision, Ani saw this and darted forward, I stubbornly fought hand to hand until one of us lost. She threw poor punches and I frowned trying to amp her up to be better than that.

Needs work… I thought to myself.

I could see as she became tired of my toying around, finally stopping the hitting, she spun around to kick me with a round house. 

“Too slow,” I whispered, catching her foot and knocking her over. “I taught you better Ani.”

She huffed angrily and tried to sit up, but exhaustion weighed down on her and she laid flat to the floor. “I give.”

I laughed and gave her my hand. “Puss.”

“That’s not fair, you're a trained hero!” She exclaimed taking it, she opened her mouth to say something else but something caught her eye. “Hey this is private property!”

My face turned confused and I turned to the tree line. “Who’s there?”

A man easily over 6ft came out of the woods with a blush. “Sorry I got a little lost.”

I grin and shift my weight onto my right leg. “Sure man, where’s the others?”

A shorter guy with sunshine yellow hair came after him. “Ani!”

My sister’s face beamed and she ran up to him. “Kami!”

I deadpanned at her. “Really?”

“Bakugou! Over here!”

“Three of you…” My voice trailed off as I saw him for the first time.

Seeing him was like breathing for the first time, it was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time, it was like my body got plugged in and electricity was flowing through me. My eyes widened and I knew he felt it too as he stumbled out nearly tripping over a tree branch, never once taking his eyes off me.

“Rae?” Anika said with worried eyes. “You okay?”

I didn’t answer, my lips were magnetized to each other, so I nodded numbly. I stepped forward because it just felt right, at this point Ani was next to me and the red head was with him.

“You’re scaring me Rae,” She said nervously. “I don’t wanna tell dad his favorite child died.”

He faintly gasped when she said my name, his hand sparking.

“Screw it.”

Suddenly a powerful outburst of wind threw me off the beach into the water, my instincts kicked in and I solidified the air under my feet. “Anika what the fuck.”

She crosses her arms smugly and grinned. “There she is.”

The boys gaped as I stepped down from the air. “That was a bit excessive.”

“Nah, worth it.”

“You good Bakubro?” The red head asked him.

‘Bakubro?’ I mouthed to myself. That doesn’t sound ri-

“It’s Bakugou.”

I looked up at his vermillion eyes, they bore into me but I held my ground.

“I’m Rae.”

Anika gave me an unsure look. “Uhhhhhh, ya’ll good?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. “I’m great.”

“So you’re Atlas?” He asked me later.

We’d taken them out to the beach house just around the corner. “Mhm, and you’re Dynamite?”

“Yeah.”

The silence wasn’t awkward but rather comforting. 

“All these years, we've been going to goddamn meetings together,” I laughed. “Who knew?”

“If we’d talked at all this could’ve been done with this a lot sooner.”

I shook my head in amusement. “Who knew?”

On the beach was Ani and the other two, they were teaching her how to punch properly. I gave up and went to the porch.

From what I could tell he wasn’t great with feelings, I think I’ve known that since we first spoke. So I took the first step and gently took his hand.

“Is this okay?”

He took a steady breath. “Yes.”

[sequinsmile-x]

I keep seeing Tiktoks where couples completely surprise their families by hard launching a baby when it's born - so not telling anyone they were pregnant at all. Any chance you could write this for Hotchniss? I'd love the teams reactions

hi bestie <3

ok so, initially I couldn't think of a way for them to hide a pregnancy entirely (although @hancydrewfan gave me an idea...so blame her in the future xoxo) BUT my mind did immediately go to this idea, so I really hope you like it!

-x-

The Name of the Game

Emily and Aaron are having twins, a fact they decide not to share when they tell the team she is pregnant.

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

There were moments when Emily felt like she had to pinch herself. Her life so beautifully ordinary, the kind of day-to-day that she used to dream of, that she was sure it was just that - a dream. 

She couldn’t remember when she fell in love with Aaron. It had snuck up on her slowly, matching her footsteps so it was in sync with her, slowly stitching itself to every part of her until it became so much a part of her she knew she could never be without it, without him. She’d found the family she never thought she’d have, a type of belonging she’d never expected to experience, in the ashes of her old life. Love and acceptance and joy with her boss and his little boy had found her just when it felt like all was lost, and that the old Emily Prentiss, who may as well have been buried in the empty grave that had borne her name, was gone forever. 

She supposed in some ways, she was. The old Emily hadn’t ever felt love like this. Maddening and addictive and overwhelming in a way she’d once thought was impossible, something reserved for fairytales and books that sold love as a prize to people who didn’t know any better. The old Emily hadn’t been someone’s wife. She hadn’t had to think about someone else so entirely, hadn’t compromised over tiny things she once would have called insignificant that were now important.

The old Emily hadn’t been a mother. 

Loving Jack was the easy part. He was a mini Aaron with flashes of Haley holding him together like a fine gold thread. Tiny pieces of the woman Emily wishes she could know better so she could know Jack better. Loving him was easy, but being his mother wasn’t. She worried about him all the time, worried she wasn’t enough, that she was somehow messing it all up. But every time he smiled at her, or hugged her, or called her mom it made it all worth it. 

Being Jack’s mom had taught her she could do it, that she didn’t have a piece of her missing, doomed to repeat her own mother’s mistakes in a cycle as vicious as the world she’d grown up in. 

It was why when she found out she was pregnant, after months of trying, the joy and excitement were replaced with a sense of calm. An assurance that she wasn’t expecting, that she knew wouldn’t last the entire pregnancy, washing over her as she stood in the bathroom holding the positive test. 

Any confidence she had that she knew what she was doing, that she could do this, disappeared the moment her doctor told her she was having twins. 

Emily immediately spotted on her doctor’s face that she’d seen something she hadn’t expected. Aaron had picked up on it too, his hand tight around hers as the doctor’s brows furrowed for half a second before she smiled at them, turning the screen towards them so they could look. 

Twins. 

She blows out a steady breath as she looks at the ultrasound picture in her hands, her finger trailing over two distinct blobs that were her babies, and she feels anxiety twisting in her gut. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Aaron asks as he places his hand on her thigh, the weight of his palm against her comforting, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she continues to stare at the picture in her hands.

“Yeah,” she replies, swallowing thickly as she looks up at him, “Just…processing,” she says, letting her head fall back against the couch. She tilts her head to look at him and a smile breaks free across her face as he cups her jaw, his thumb tracing back and forth over her cheek, “I’m so happy,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief, “So happy but also so overwhelmed.” 

Aaron smiles at her and leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips as he holds her in place, his hand still on her jaw, “I know, Em. Me too. But we’ll figure it all out,” he kisses her again before he pulls back, his smile wry, “The team are going to lose their minds.” 

She feels her eyes go wide at the mention of the team, at their reaction to the fact they were not only pregnant but were having twins, and she blows out a steady breath. She loved their friends, she really did, but they were involved in everything, her love of keeping parts of her life private, something she knew her husband also shared, almost impossible at times. 

This pregnancy was always going to be hard on her with her age and medical history, but she knew it would be even harder now. More risk, more chance of complication, and she didn’t want anything to make that even harder on her. She looks back and forth between the ultrasound picture and her husband, and she smiles as she feels an idea start to come together, “What if we don’t tell them?” 

Aaron watches her carefully, trying to figure out if she’s joking or not. She looks up at him, an earnest look in her eyes and he clears his throat, well aware that he’d have to choose his next few words carefully. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his smile soft, “How would we hide it when you start to show? Even people who aren’t profilers would probably figure it out.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and lightly slaps his shoulder, “Not the pregnancy,” she says as if it’s obvious, and she points at her still flat stomach as she carries on, “The fact there are two of them in there.” 

He’s intrigued by the idea, by the thought of having something that was just between them and those who needed to know, so he looks at her thoughtfully, “What makes you want to do that?” 

She sits up straighter, turning so she’s facing him, her knees against his thigh, and she places her hand on his arm, “Think about it - Pen has been harassing me to get pregnant so much I think she might actually have been a month or two away from breaking in here to poke holes in any condoms she might have found,” she says, only partially joking, “Imagine what she’d be like if she knew we were having two babies. And Dave would be insufferable. Derek makes fun of me for everything, and Spencer would spend the next several months telling me all the horrible things that could happen to either me or the babies because he just can’t help himself-”

“Em-” he says, trying to cut her off because she’s started to spiral, but she just carries on, her eyes wide as she rambles.

“And JJ would just about be the only normal one, but I’m going to spend my entire pregnancy comparing myself to her anyway, and I’m so much older than she was when she had-”

“Em,” he says a little firmer this time, his hand on her arm as he cuts her off, his smile soft as their eyes meet, “Okay.” 

She furrows her brows for a second, her brain taking a moment to catch up, “Okay?”

He stamps a kiss against her lips, “Okay, we won’t tell them it’s twins,” he says, placing his hand on her stomach, “You’re the pregnant one. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” 

She sighs in relief, her body almost sagging with it, as she all but collapses into his side, smiling as he pulls her into a hug, “Thank you,” she says, tilting her head to look at him, “It will be so much less stressful.”

He smiles knowingly at her and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. He raises an eyebrow at her and shakes his head slightly, “And of course, you can have some fun with it.” 

Her smile turns wicked, and her stomach rolls again, a rush of love for him, for how well he knows her, briefly overwhelming. 

“That too.” 

___

By the time she’s 28 weeks pregnant she’s so uncomfortable she has no idea how she’s going to cope with the two months she has left. Her doctor had decided it was best for her to be induced at 36 weeks, the safest option for both Emily and the babies, but it still felt like it was a long way off. 

She’s walking, not waddling no matter what Derek said, back to her desk from one of her many bathroom breaks a day when she hears it. The team were all gathered around Spencer’s desk, all seemingly thinking that they were talking over each other quietly even though she could hear them, passing money to Derek who was filing it away. 

“It’s a girl. Definitely.”

“Don’t be stupid, it’s a boy. My mom always says you can tell from the shape of the bump. Princess is carrying low. So boy.” 

“It has to be a girl. We have Henry and Jack, now we need a BAU girl.”

She clears her throat, and fights a smile when she watches them all freeze. She raises her eyebrow at them as they turn to look at her and she places one of her hands on her bump. One of the twins shifts beneath her hand and she narrows her eyes at her friends. 

“Are you betting on what I think you’re betting on?” 

Spencer stutters and Penelope avoids her gaze. Eventually, Derek clears his throat and answers, “It’s just a friendly betting pool,” he says, looking more confident than he sounds, “We did it before we found out JJ was having a boy.” 

JJ frowns, looking back and forth between her friends, “You did?” 

Emily presses her lips together to hide a smile, her mischievous side taking over, “How much are you all putting in?” 

“$50,” Dave answers, “We’re also guessing on weight. Closest weight and correct guess on the sex wins.” 

She hums and nods, “I can do $50,” she says, walking to her desk and pulling out her wallet. 

“Wait, you can’t play,” Derek says, frowning at her as she looks back up at him, “It’s cheating.” 

“I’m the one the kid is living inside of,” she says, pointing to her bump, “I should be able to have a little fun.” 

“Don’t hate the player, sweet cheeks,” Derek says, shrugging, “Hate the game.” 

“Em and Hotch aren’t finding out what they are having,” JJ says, “It does seem unfair to not let her play.”

“Surely she’s more likely to get it right.”

“Actually the odds are still the same,” Spencer says, shrugging, “Still 50/50.” 

Derek sighs and then nods at Emily, rolling his eyes at her smirk as she passes him $50, “What’s your guess then, Princess?”

“Boy,” she says, not missing how Derek and Dave both celebrate as he seemingly agrees with them. “5lbs, 8 ounces.” 

“Really?” Spencer says, looking up at her from the paper where Derek was writing down all the bets, “That’s a little small given the size of your bump alread…” he trails off as she raises an eyebrow at him, and he clears his throat, “I mean, 5 and a half pounds, good guess.” 

She hums, “Smart boy,” she exchanges a smile with JJ, “I’m going to go up to see Aaron, see if I can convince him to take me out to lunch.” 

She shakes her head and smiles as she hears her friends carry on as she climbs the stairs, each of them guessing a higher weight than she knew either of her babies was likely to be born weighing. She groans as walks into Aaron’s office and lowers herself onto the couch, her hand on her bump as she tries to get comfortable. 

“I might have to start working up here,” she grumbles, looking over at her husband, “My desk chair was not built for this much of me.” 

Aaron smiles as he gets up from his desk and walks over to join her, “You can work up here any time,” he says. He sits down and puts his arm around her, pulling her closer and placing his hand on her bump, allowing both of them more physical contact than they would usually have in the office, “And we’ll get you a better chair,” he stamps a kiss to her temple, “I have it on good authority the boss is quite fond of you.” 

She chuckles wryly, linking her hand with his and moving it to where she can feel one of the babies moving, “He’d better be,” she says, lowering her voice so only he can hear her, “I’m carrying his litter.” 

He hides his smile in her hair, knowing it is best not to get caught, and changes the subject, “Did I hear you betting on whether we’re having a boy or a girl?” 

She pulls back and smiles, “The others were betting on it and I wanted in,” she says, shrugging one of her shoulders, “And I’m the one literally doing all the heavy lifting - why shouldn’t I make some money.” 

He smiles widely at her, his life for her threatening to burst out of his chest, his whole body thrumming with it, “And the fact we know we’re having one of each doesn’t play into this at all?” 

She narrows her eyes and shushes him, her eyes flicking to the door to make sure no one in the bullpen would have heard him, “Okay, so why shouldn’t I make some easy money,” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she bites her lip, “You know…I said boy, five and a half pounds. If you go down there and bet on us having a girl and say a lower weight than the others then we’ll make a lot of money off of them.” 

There’s a beat of silence and she can see a whole range of emotions flash across his face before he smiles and leans forward to kiss her forehead before he stands up, “I’ll be right back.” 

She chuckles as he walks out of his office, purpose in every step, and she looks down at her bump, “Daddy is so silly,” she says, her smile getting wider when she feels a sharp kick, “But we love him anyway.” 

___

Emily hums softly as she rocks the small bundle in her arms. She didn’t know it was possible to be so happy yet so exhausted at the same time, but as she looks down at her newborn son’s face she knows everything she’d been through the last several months, every moment of discomfort and pain, was worth it. 

She looks at the clock on the wall and smiles before she looks back at her newborn, “Mommy and Daddy’s friends will be here soon, Issac,” she says, lifting him to kiss his forehead, wincing slightly as the movement pulls at her c-section incision, “They are going to be so surprised to meet you and your sister.” 

She still couldn’t believe that they’d pulled it off, that they’d made it through the whole pregnancy and the five days since the twins were born without the team finding out. She’d finally relented and told them to come over, instructing JJ to let them in with the key she had for emergencies when they arrive. There was a part of her that wanted to keep her baby bubble, to just be her, Aaron, the twins and Jack, who was currently out with Jessica, but she also wanted to show off her children, to let them meet the people she knew would love them entirely. 

She hears a knock on the front door and feels her cheeks go warm, excitement and nervousness flooding through her in equal measure. Aaron was upstairs with Olivia, a well timed diaper change meaning it was just her and Issac downstairs, and she blows out a steady breath before she calls out. 

“Come in.” 

There’s a brief pause before she hears the door open, excited whispers filtering through the house, and she shakes her head at her friends. Unsurprisingly, Penelope is first to walk into the room, rooted to the spot just inside the doorway when she catches sight of Emily sitting on the couch, an almost impossibly tiny baby in her arms. 

“Oh, Peaches,” she says, tears immediately spilling out onto her cheeks as she walks over to get a better look, the rest of the team not far behind her, “Look at you.” 

“Hi,” Emily says softly, her chest so full of love she can’t quite breathe properly, tears she’s not even angry at herself for gathering in her eyes, “Everyone this is Issac,” she says, looking down at her son before she looks back at her friends, “Issac this is everyone.” 

“He’s beautiful, Em.” 

Emily opens her mouth to reply but stops when she spots her husband in the doorway, their daughter safely snuggled in his arms, and she winks at him, giving him the go-ahead to announce his arrival and break the secret they’d so dutifully protected for months. 

“Hi,” he says, and everyone turns to look at him, smiling at him for a moment before they turn back to Emily.

“Hi, Hotch.”

“Aaron.” 

“Congrats, man.” 

There’s a beat of silence, a moment of peace in the room, before all hell breaks loose and everyone turns to look back at Aaron, their eyes fixed on Oliva sleeping in his arms. 

“What?” Penelope asks, finding her voice first, looking back and forth between Issac in Emily’s arms and Olivia in Aaron’s, “I…what?” 

“Whose baby is that?” Spencer asks, his confusion clear, and Emily laughs, the sound loud enough to draw all of their attention back to her. 

“That is Issac’s twin sister, Oliva,” she says, pressing her lips together to try and suppress her smile, “Surprise.” 

The room falls into silence again, different arrays of shock and confusion across everyone's faces.

“You were pregnant with twins?” Dave asks, his hands on his hips, and Emily nods in confirmation, “I knew it.” 

She rolls her eyes as Aaron walks over, taking a seat next to her on the couch, “No you didn’t Dave.” 

He chuckles, “Okay, no I didn’t,” he says, sitting down in the armchair next to him, “You two are worryingly good at lying.” 

“First off, I used to be a spy, and secondly it technically wasn’t lying…more like being selective with the truth,” she says, narrowing her eyes at her husband when he chuckles next to her. 

“And why were you, selective with the truth?” Derek asks, crossing his arms over his chest, “Don’t you trust us?” 

She sighs and rocks Issac a little more, something she knows is more of a comfort for her than the sleeping infant, “Of course we trust you. It’s just this was a big thing and…we wanted to keep it to ourselves to reduce stress in an already stressful situation.”

JJ sits on the arm of the couch to get a closer look at the babies and she hums, “I can understand that,” she squeezes Emily’s shoulder, “I still can’t believe you were pregnant with twins,” she says, scrunching her nose up as Emily turns to look at her, “Now I think I hate you even more for how good you looked the entire time.” 

Emily laughs and she feels her cheeks go red, “Well, I definitely didn’t feel good by the end I can tell you that much.” 

Aaron clears his throat, cutting Derek off from asking another question, and he tilts his head towards Penelope, “I know we have a lot of questions to answer, but I think if Garcia doesn’t get to hold one of them soon she might go into orbit.” 

Everyone turns to look at the technical analyst, who was so excited she was practically vibrating, and she holds her hands out, not having to be asked twice, “Gimme.” 

Emily sits forward and passes over Issac, “Here, he’s a little more chilled out than she is,” she says, wincing as she settles back onto the couch, turning to smile gratefully at her husband as he helps her, “Livvy is a bit more vocal in demanding what she wants.” 

As if she knows she’s being spoken about, Olivia starts to cry, making all the adults in the room chuckle, and Aaron immediately passes her over to Emily, aware even only a few days in what his daughter wants.

“I think we all know who takes after who,” Dave quips and Emily narrows her eyes at him, which makes the smile slip off his face, “Well, if it makes you feel better Bella, you aren’t any less intimidating holding a newborn than you are holding a gun.” 

She smiles at him, “That does make me feel better,” she says, as she rests Olivia against her chest before she in turn rests against Aaron, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around her. She keeps an eye on her son, the baby boy surrounded by his aunts and uncles, each one of them doting on him already, and she turns her head to look at Aaron, unsurprised to find him looking at her, “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” he replies, kissing her temple, his grip on her tightening just a little. 

“Wait a minute,” Derek asks, looking up from Issac, his brow furrowing as he looks at the couple on the couch, “Does this mean you both fixed the bet so you’d win?”

Emily shrugs nonchalantly and bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling, her hand rubbing soothing circles on her daughter’s back. 

“Don’t hate the player sweet cheeks,” she says, winking at him, “Hate the game.”

-x-

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[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: Babies, addiction

The first night with my Baby went well. You know, I thought it was all good!😞... I was so happy. I wanted to be a mother, his mother! Even before I became pregnant, I dreamed of my Son. (I told once about that dream)

But enough of my dreams! My Grama came to the hospital early in the morning, to help me with my Baby. She was always the first and the last to go home. Later that afternoon, my Son became restless, screaming & crying a lot.

I went to the nurse’s room. I asked when a pediatrician will come by, to examine my Baby? My son is almost 3 days old and has not been properly examined yet. I mean, that’s why I’m here! In this hospital, because of that withdrawal issue in newborns. (NAS) That nurse was totally annoyed by me. She just said, tomorrow morning 2 docs from the NICU are coming, to examine the "Drug Babies". I swear she said Drug-Babies. I just shook my head and turned away from that nurse. On my way back, I saw two other girls, who made fun of something. As I walked past them, I recognized Melissa. 😲

Me: Heeyy!.... Melissa, you here? 😃

Melissa: Omg, Aleksa!! 😲😱

Me: Did you-....

Melissa: YES! Yea, I had my Baby 2 days ago. Nicolina, that's her name.

Melissa: Ahhh, come here babe! 🤗

Me: Careful!!! I had a C-section. 😬 ... Congrats! Nicolina's such a sweet name. My son was born yesterday. His name's Lucas.

Melissa: How cute. Lucas & Nicolina. Haha.. Hey, A., that's Meryem, my roomate here. Her son was also born yesterday.

Meryem: Hi! So, you're one of us?

Me: Um..

Melissa (to M.): A. gets the same meds as me.

Me: Yes. But, how are your Babies, guys? I don’t think my Baby is well.😟

Melissa: Yk, A.? Nicolina's also struggeling. My Mom’s with her rn, she's sleeping. But agh, ask Meryem, my Baby cries & screams all night long. I’m sure she has withdrawal symptoms. 😞

Meryem: My son's fine so far. He has nothing! He's so calm. I got and still take Methadone.

Me: Methadone? Wow, that's... a pretty strong drug!

Melissa (to M.): But your Baby nurses. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have withdrawal symptoms. What about you, A.?

Me: I’m not breastfeeding my son. Just because of that!

Meyrem: They told me, the amount transferred through mother's milk, is not really high.

Me: Hm, Idk?

Melissa: Anyway, tomorrow our Babies will be examined.

Me: Where is your room? My room is 4D. You can visit me at any time.

Meliassa: Our room is 2C, right back there. Just come over to us!

Meryem: Yea, our Babies should hang out together. 😄

Me: 2 Boys & a Girl. Poor Nicolina!😄

Melissa: If your boys behave well, I don’t mind.

Me: I'm glad I met you girls. I hate this place.

Melissa: I was told we had to stay here for 9 days.

Me: I hope not!!! 😨

Later that night, my Baby started screaming for hours. He just didn’t stop!! I asked the nurse for help twice. I was so worried about my Son! I also cried, I felt totally helpless & guilty! I hated myself. Did he actually have withdrawal symptoms? Is that why he cries so much? I had no idea what was wrong with him?? Hopefully the doctors can help him tomorrow.

Previous/Next

[meli-meliai]

When Seth was a child, he wanted to know about everything.

How humans had first came to be, who the mysterious God that his parents so often whispered about on nights when they didn’t think that he was awake, why his mother always flinched whenever she caught even a fleeting glimpse of a snake. Why his father went out of his way to hunt down every snake he saw. Who decided that the trees and grass should be the same color in vaguely different shades.

It wasn’t just mere, childish curiosity, either. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable. But books weren’t invented yet when he was young; so instead he focused on listening to as many stories as he could.

His beloved mother, though an eternal burden weighs upon her shoulders, took it upon herself to weave the young world’s very first stories. Before the Son of the Lord had walked upon the Earth, gentle Eve held her son in tired arms and spun tales that no one but him would ever hear, parables of virtue and morality, her melodic voice floating in the cool, nighttime winds whistling past the orchards that could never compare to the Garden of Eden. Though she was exhausted-a feeling that she could never quite get used to, no matter how many times she has experienced it- she had never failed to scoop her son into her arms and hold him close as she spins another new story out of thin air.

“My son, have I ever told you about the angels who fell from eternal paradise?”

”No, you haven’t! Tell me!”

”Of course, of course…but before I tell you, do you know WHY they fell from paradise?”

“I can’t know ANYTHING if you don’t tell me! Why did they fall?”

”…I don’t quite know either! But… I might have a guess.”

”What is it, mom?”

”…”

Eve still had dreams-or rather, nightmares- of the beautiful angel who held out the tantalizing red apple out to her- his soft, sultry voice promising her an eternity of knowledge and a vast sea of answers. On some nights, she woke up shivering, swearing that she had felt a feathery wing envelope her back and raise her up, up, up… to a light so bright that she felt as though she might burn if she rose any further Funnily enough, though, it wasn’t his beauty that she remembered. That part was wispy around the edges, blurred and faded like a memory of the wind.

No. It was the promise. Of freedom, of knowing. For what is life without the crisp, sweet satisfaction and reward? What is humanity without automity?

Sometimes the taste of forbidden fruit lingers on her tongue, the crisp sweetness unlike anything she had ever experienced. Yellow-gold snake eyes watched her as she bit into the crisp flesh, and a part of her wanted to kiss it. To thank it for giving her a choice, the freedom, the knowledge that she could make decisions by herself.

Knowledge was a beautiful thing, for if she hadn’t eaten the fruit, she wouldn’t have seen the way the snake’s eyes softened in turn. And for a moment, she could see an angel behind it.

Then she and her Adam were promptly kicked out of Eden.

Her Adam…

”Mom! Are you okay??”

”…Oh! I’m so sorry, Seth. I was just… lost in thought.”

”About what?”

”Nothing, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Seth looks so much like his father, but also…so much like him. The fallen angel that she never had a chance to understand.

“…Mom?”

”Hm? What is it, my son? Are you tired? I can put up your bedroll…”

”No! I just wanted to ask, how did you come to love Father? He’s so…”

Frigid. Bitter. Demanding.

She couldn’t imagine a day where she wasn’t in love with Adam.

“I was created for him, Seth. I was born to love him.”

”Yeah… but what about him? Do you think that he loves you back the same way?”

Eve wasn’t sure. Before the fruit, before she got them both thrown out of Eden, she had never questioned her purpose or place in Adam’s life.She was literally created from his bones, shaped to be perfect and his love, his constant companion. But… he had another one, didn’t he? Before her. She never learned the woman’s name, but Eve wonders if she left because of the same reason that the snake tempted her with.

Knowing. Freedom. Something more out in the world.

She wonders about this woman, would love to talk with her about all the answers of the world. She wonders if she is as beautiful as the angel of her dreams.

“Of course he does. If he didn’t, he would’ve left me to face the consequences in the Garden of Eden.”

Seth frowned, scrunched up his nose. His mother always seemed distracted whenever he asked these kinds of questions, but never doubtful. He saw the way her warm brown eyes (the only part of her appearance that he had inherited) stared wistfully into the trees, as if she was reading something that wasn’t- and will never- be there. Waiting for answers that will never come.

And he hated it. He hated leaving questions unanswered. He hated the twistedness of guessing, of having to wrack his brain over and over again just to find a puzzle piece of the uncompleted whole story. What was the point of breaking God’s rule to consume knowledge itself, only for it to be twisted in a labyrinth of confusion? He was only a child, and he had hundreds of years in front of him to figure everything out- but he wanted to know now.

But he loved his mother. He inherited her eyes, her smile, her craving for knowledge. Her desire for something more. But unlike her, he would never have the chance to satisfy his curiosity until long after his death. And his fate will be far, far more cruel.

To him, at least.

”Hey…Mom?”

”Hm? What is it, my dear?”

”If you don’t know exactly why the angels fell, can you make up a story about it?”

Eve smiled, and in that moment the tiredness from her face faded. She nuzzled her son and placed a kiss upon his silvery-white hair, and her heart felt light and content. It was as if she had never left Eden. In fact, she felt even happier, somehow. Would she have had her wonderful children if she never ate the Fruits of Knowledge? Would she have had the joy of holding her bright-eyed son in her arms and making up lullabies to sing to him every night? Motherhood was suffering, but what is joy without it? Light and color would’ve never existed without darkness. And, though she knows that she should disagree, a part of her felt like she would never have it any other way.

If only she could’ve done the same for Abel and Cain…

If only she could’ve saved both of them.

But she was powerless to her own consequences, the first seeds of sin taking root in her own children. Holding Seth close so that he wouldn’t see his failure of a mother blinking back tears, she whispered a feather-soft prayer into the nighttime wind, that none of her children would ever suffer the same fate for as long as they lived. Otherwise, if anything happened to them because of her idiotic mistake, trusting that damned snake’s honeyed words and false promises…

She felt like crying. What kind of mother cries in front of her own child? She felt like a failure of a mother, unworthy to be the forebearer of humanity. For was the purpose of humans simply to struggle, due to her choice? Did she bear her children only to have them face the same fate?

…No. It won’t be like that again.I’ll get them right this time. She thought, as she wiped her face and lifted her face to smile at her son again, unaware that he heard and saw everything. But Seth has always been good at hiding his true emotions, so he gave her a smile that mirrored Eve’s own. He felt her hands tremble against his back.

She could still see the blood that coated her son’s dead body, could still feel the rasp in her voice as she screamed and screamed and screamed as Adam came running to see what was wrong-

No. It would be different this time. It would never happen again.

Her smile faltered a little bit as she looked at her son. So much like his father, but so much like her. Forced to carry such a burden at such a young age… but he never would’ve been born if not for that burden. Truly, a gift from the omniscient and omnipotent Almighty, sent as both a consolation and a reminder of what she had done wrong. And if not for that gift, she would’ve never been here, singing lullabies and weaving stories to tell him. And so, she began a new one, her ethereal voice carrying in the cool airs of the wind, the stars twinkling overhead mother and son as moonlight enveloped their silhouettes. The creatures of the Earth held its breath in anticipation of a new story:

“There was once an angel, the most beautiful out of all the ones in Heaven… he was God’s favorite, until the day he fell, both from his home and from grace.”

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Wrong One

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Steve while he is on the run and sticks with him through everything. Until he sees Peggy Carter again.

Chapter 11: Babymoon

Warnings: swearing, angst

Baby girl Y/L/N was born at 30 weeks gestation, 11 lbs, 1 oz and 25 inches. She was closer in size to a 3 month old than a newborn.

Y/N had been contemplating a name ever since she found out she was having a girl. When she first found out she was pregnant, before Steve left her, she had thought about naming a girl Sarah after his mom. Now she was uncertain but refused to use any inspiration from Steve.  She thought about Jamie since Bucky had been such a rock for her but baby wasn't his and maybe Y/N had dreams of her and Bucky's kids in some hopeful future. She wasn't sure how he felt but some of his actions pointed to romantic feelings. It was hard to trust her instincts after Steve.

The day after baby was born, after breakfast, a lady from the records office showed up to record all the details for her birth certificate. Bucky watched with interest because Y/N had kept mum about her decision.

Y/N looked at Bucky and smiled at him lovingly "Her name will be Guinevere Hope Y/L/N."

When asked who the father was she made a face, "Unknown" then smirked at Bucky with a glint in her eye. He looked at her a little shocked but said nothing.

The recorder missed the looks but smiled at them and kept her assumptions to herself when she saw how big the baby was born. She left wishing them the best.

Bucky turned to look at Y/N as she nursed not so little Winnie, with a question on his face.

She smiled at him "Guinevere because she was the lead female in my favorite play, Camelot, which my father introduced me to. But we will call her Winnie, to honor the woman who raised an amazing man like you, of course. I wish I could thank her in person because you saved me, Buck. I don't know how I would have dealt with everything without you."

He looked surprised and blushed "I don't know what to say, doll. I uh" he stammered, then swallowed "Ok. And father unknown?"

She smirked again "It's really a safety thing. We don't need to advertise that there's a super soldier baby. Pepper and I talked about it. The fact that it denies him that basic acknowledgement is just a bonus." She giggled

Winnie pulled back to see about this noise her mama was making and smiled, even tried to laugh but it came out as a little cough. Y/N smiled and put her over her shoulder to burp her.

Bucky was startled by the loud and slightly wet burp that came out and jumped a little.

Y/N chuckled "Some super assassin, scared of a baby's burp. We need to make sure to tell Helen she smiled already. I'm pretty sure that's not a newborn thing. I think this little one will keep me on my toes."

The peace was broken when Steve showed up with flowers and another teddy bear with a pink bow and a Captain America shield.

Y/N tensed and Winnie picked up on it, rubbing her face on her mama's shoulder.

Steve smiled "I left after she was born last night, you looked tired so I figured today would be better." He reached out to rub the baby's back but she mewled and flinched when he touched her so he quickly pulled his hand back, his smile faltering.

He rubbed Y/N's shoulder which she shrugged off and turned to glare at him. "Why are you here, Steve?" She asked coldly.

He looked pissed for a moment before he reined his temper in "Y/N, you know why I'm here. Regardless of what happened between us, she is my daughter and I have the right to get to know her."

She shook her head "I wouldn't come here boasting about any rights, right now. I told you I wouldn't keep you away from her but I had to have an emergency c-section after you came pushing your way back into my life and caused all kinds of unnecessary stress. She and I both could have died yesterday but you didn't think about that when you forced your way into my house, did you? When have you ever really considered me first, since we've met? It's always what you want, what you need, what you deserve."

Steve tried to protest but she cut him off.

"Even if you didn't know I was pregnant, you still left Bucky behind. After all we went through and all your end of the line bullshit, you left him here to fend for himself in a future he didn't belong in either. I can't believe how selfish you are." She was getting worked up again and Helen came quickly after the blood pressure monitor started beeping.

"Y/N, you need to calm down, your blood pressure is spiking again and-" she noticed Steve and shook her head "I should have known you were here, Captain. You need to leave and stop upsetting my patient. No more visitors."

Steve looked at Bucky who wasn't moving to leave "What about him?" He spat "Why does he get to stay?"

Helen shook her head again, "Because he's her birth partner and-. Ugh, just go."

Steve looked like he was going to protest but deflated when he watched Y/N and Bucky interact and care for little Winnie. He shook his head and left.

Steve went over to see Sam for some support but it didn't go how he expected. Sam wasn't pleased with him either.

"You left her, man. Without even saying goodbye and you wonder why she's so hostile with you? Seriously?" Sam chastised him.

Steve shook his head, "But I wanted.."

Sam interrupted "All I keep hearing about from you is what you want or deserve. What about what she deserved? What Bucky deserved? Leave them alone."

Steve clenched his jaw "But she's my girl and Bucky just swooped in and-"

Sam had it "Enough!! She was your girl and Bucky has been helping her since you weren't there. If her and Bucky are happy together, I think they both Deserve that."

Steve sighed "I just wanted to be a father, have a family. But now I have to share that family with him."

"Him?" Sam scoffed 'You mean the best friend you abandoned? I thought you'd be glad he has found some happiness." Sam countered.

Steve sat with his head in his hands "This isn't how it was supposed to go. Growing old with Peggy was supposed to be like I dreamt of as a kid but she wasn't a fan of all the trappings of that dream. I wanted to retire and rest, travel without having to fight anyone but she wouldn't slow down so I was home alone too much. Kids would have interfered so she refused. She didn't have time to cook and clean so I became a house husband. Not to mention the guilt over leaving Y/N and Bucky behind." He looked up at Sam

"I felt like I would never get it in this time so I went back and still didn't get it."

Sam sat next to him "I'm sorry going back wasn't everything you wanted but that doesn't excuse your actions then or now. You almost got Y/N and your daughter killed the way you stressed her out so much." He paused "Just give them a minute to settle in and she will let you have time with the kid."

Steve spoke so low Sam almost didn't hear "Y/N named her after Bucky's mom, not my mom but his."

Sam patted his shoulder "Yeah, I know but he's been there for her, takes care of her and she wanted to honor that.

You need to respect that too."

Steve drew in a breath like he was going to say something else but he saw the look on Sam's face and deflated.

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

The next morning while Y/N was feeding Winnie, Bucky came back from some meetings and turned on the news to show Y/N.

"You've got to see this, doll."

There was Steve, looking serious in a press conference. Y/N was shocked when he apologized for his recent behavior and words. He told them the incident at the gala was based on a misunderstanding and that he was the one who left her right before she discovered she was pregnant. He stated that Y/N and Bucky had his blessing and he was looking forward to raising his daughter with them.

Steve stepped down before answering any questions while Y/N and Bucky looked at each other in shock.

She grabbed his arm "Is he sincere or is this another ploy to manipulate us and get what he wants? I want this to be real but I don't know if I can trust him."

Bucky pulled her to him "I don't know what's on his mind but I'll be here regardless."

She looked at him shyly "You know you don't have to right? Don't get me wrong I appreciate everything you do for us and love having you around but you should be living your life. Find a girl to settle down with, have a couple of kids of your own, you know." She said sadly

Bucky looked her in the eyes "What if I found that girl but we have to wait cuz she just had a kid?" And leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips.

Y/N leaned into the kiss, feeling sparks running down her body. She absentmindedly chased after when he pulled away. She realized what she was doing and pulled back, opening her eyes and felt her face heat up.

She looked at him in wonder "Are you sure? Lady with a kid is a lot to take on. Me being your friends ex adds another level of potential drama. I don't know that I'm worth all that.

Bucky shook his head "I'm positive and you are worth all the drama in the world, to me. I already feel like her daddy and love her like she was mine. We've been talking and playing for months."

He paused, looking uncertain

"Unless, unless you don't want this, don't want me like I want you."

Y/N laughed softly "Are you kidding me? I've been holding myself back from attacking you. I just want you to be sure. I don't want to get my hopes up or for Winnie to grow attached, only for you to leave because it's too much. And I don't want to mess up your recovery."

He looked deep into her eyes "I haven't been so sure of anything in my life. I'd propose today if I thought you'd say yes." He chuckled at the panicked look on her face

"Don't worry, I wouldn't even dream of proposing until you're healed and your hormones are getting back to normal."

He gently took her hand

"I can see a future with you and it wasn't so long ago that I couldn't see any future for me at all, much less a happy one. Now I can see myself growing old with you and I can't wait."

She smiled at him "I've been feeling it too but didn't want to scare you away. Let's just take it one day at a time and see where things go."

Bucky smiled and kissed her again until Winnie started trying to push him away and they both laughed, feeling lighter than either had felt in awhile.

Chapter 12

[two-white-butterflies]

WAITING FOR A BUS

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Reader (MODERN)

Description: A new promotion at work prompts you to move into a small modest town with your boyfriend, Aemond Targaryen. There you meet a few friendly faces. It seems like life is going where it's supposed to. That is until you meet your new boss, Daemon Targaryen, who is your boyfriend's estranged uncle.

It doesn't help with the fact that you've been having dreams about him since birth.

masterlist | chapter twenty-one

Black was your husband's favorite shade - he wore it everywhere, from galas to charity events. Black was the color that reminded you of home - but you dreaded seeing it know.

"I offer my condolences," your small family walked towards the altar where Aegon was nearing Alicent's casket. "The doctor said she was living on borrowed time, we were all expecting it." Aegon replied with a bitter chuckle, staring at his mother's closed casket.

It wasn't his first funeral - the mother of his twins died the same way too. Aegon couldn't stand staring at his mother's dead body, with closed eyes and skin hardened from chemicals. "Who would've thought that she'd live five-years after her expected diagnosis?" he added, turning slowly to face you.

His eyes softened at the sight of Maekar. He had a soft spot for children. "Alicent was a radiant soul - she commanded respect wherever she went." Daemon compliments, his hands were wrapped around the small of your back - protecting you from the vipers.

"That I agree upon. Mom was scary - we all loved her for that." Aegon smiled gently walking away from the casket. You all walk beside him, finding your spot in one of the pews. "She died at the right time - she was in peace, the doctors told us that she didn't feel any pain." he informed and hum exits your lips.

"It's nice to hear that." you add with a deep breath. There were only a few guests occupying the chairs - it was too early in the morning for them to arrive just yet. Aegon leans on his chair, waving at his daughter, Jaehaera, who was playing outside of the clubhouse.

"We should stop talking about her - she doesn't like being spoken behind her back." he joked while squeezing Maekar's cheeks gently.

Maekar cooed at the touch of his cousin. Aegon's fingers were soft, cold and relaxing for the baby boy.

"By the gods, (Your name) he looks like you." he remarked with a slight chuckle. "Daemon swears different," you smile. Daemon's hands slither towards your own, entangling it with his comforting touch.

"Look at him properly, Egg. Maekar is a real Targaryen." he argued while combing through his son's hair.

"His hair, yeah - but look at his face." Aegon pointed out, earning an eye-roll from his uncle.

THE EULOGIES : Rhaenyra Strong

Rhaenyra steps into the podium, her eyes were wet with tears and with a heaving breath - she opens her mouth.

"Alicent was my childhood friend. She was eight years older than me. She was one of those girls that would braid your hair or help your mom around the house. She was my babysitter - and it was weird for her to marry my dad at first." she joked, earning a small laugh from the crowd.

"Our family didn't welcome her with open arms but slowly and surely she made her way into our hearts." she touched her chest, not bothering to wipe the tears that were flowing out of her eyes. "She was an educated woman who spent her life attending charity events, helping the poor and needy - and heaven is lucky to gain such an angel." she praised, looking at the casket behind her for a second.

"Wherever she is now - I'm sure that she's happy, and in peace."

THE EULOGIES: Helaena Targaryen

Helaena wasn't crying, her eyes weren't cloudy with mist, and her clothes weren't in mourning. But deep inside her heart - she was heaving for the loss of her mother.

"I can't remember my father, I was born a year before he died - and ever since I could remember ... my mother my only parent. She was the one who provided and took care of us." she praised with a shuddering breath. She didn't dare shed any tears.

"I remember going to college - and I didn't know what course I was going to take. I knew that everyone wanted me to follow my father's footsteps and to become an Engineer - but my mother knew better." she smiled, remembering the memory in clear color.

In all of the siblings - she was most closest to Alicent. She was the one who took care of her mother - changing her IV drip, and helping her go to the bathroom. She was the one most affected by her death.

"A day before enrollment - she told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be. That my skill in art was something that she was proud of. My mother shaped me, and turned me into the woman I am - now I don't know where to go because she's not walking behind me anymore." Helaena finishes and the tears finally flow out of her eyes.

Harwin walks to the podium, gently escorting his sister-in-law to her seat. Rhaenyra presses a kiss on the top of her head, whispering sweet nothings in an effort to console her.

"Who are these righteous ones? These saints who are in heaven?" Daemon hears the loud voice of Otto Hightower. He was never the one to listen during the mass - matter of fact, he was atheist. If the gods were real, they wouldn't allow injustice to happen. God wouldn't allow injustice to persevere around the world.

The Catholics and the religious had their explaination - but he didn't care for them. He was content with his beliefs - and his efforts in becoming a better person. After all, the purpose of religion was to become a better member in society.

He walks towards the garden, past the small fountain that he used to clog with coins. His mind drifts off to his nephew, Aemond, Alicent's favorite child. Cain to Abel. The one who wielded the rock against the world. He sees the boy sitting on one of the benches - and like a grown uncle, he still sees Aemond as a child.

"Aemond." he says firmly, like a man knocking on a little boy's door. "Daemon," the boy turns around - and the eyepatch was no longer in his eye. They were akin to each other - their names were anagram of each other names. Daemon scorns it - but he sees a piece of himself inside Aemond.

"Go away." he added, reminiscent of the conversation they had decades ago, only this time Viserys wasn't present to torment his son physically - but the mental scars remain.

"Why weren't you there?" Daemon asked, circling the man cautiously.

In the back of his mind, he could smell the scent of candy-canes and eggnog. He was transported to the boy's childhood room.

"It's not appropriate for me to be there, I promise you." the boy replied smugly, not willing to let go of his pride just yet.

"It's your mother's funeral - becoming a horrible human being doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be there." the older man replies with the tilt of a hat. "Fuck off." Aemond gritted his teeth. "I've already done what I can - four years in a mental institution and I'm back here." he grumbled, unable to meet his uncle's eyes.

Daemon keeps staring at the man - waiting for him to click and rant. "I fucking regret what I did. Is that what you want to hear?" Aemond raised his voice, clenching his fists and taking deep breaths.

Instead of responding to his nephew, Daemon places his hands behind his back - raising to his full height and feigning ignorance to everything that was happening. "You are welcome inside," he finished while walking away - not wanting to go back to the mass just yet.

Once the eulogies and the second-day mass was over, the family returned home (Harwin and Laenor were left behind in the Clubhouse) to rest and reunite with each other. Visenya took a quick liking to her cousin, always playing with his round cheeks and white hair. "Soft bones, Vissy - please be careful." Rhaenyra warned, already saying 'careful' for the third time in a row. "Kay mama." the girl responded while continuing to touch the baby.

"I'm sorry about Visenya - its her first time seeing a baby." Rhaenyra's eyes softened while attempting to pull her daughter away. You chuckle softly, combing through Maekar's hair.

"It's fine, plus - Maekar hasn't been around another kid too." you confirm hearing the children's laughter radiate through the house. This was your third time inside Alicent's house - your first time without her baking cookies for you.

Aemond stares at the portrait of his father - to be honest, he couldn't remember the story behind the picture. He seemed to be smiling, but the joy wasn't reaching his eyes - his father was carrying him on his back, holding a football and posing for the camera. He was wearing that stupid Casio watch - even the look of the watch brought back memories that he hid long ago.

He remembers being hit on his behind, crying for his mother and his siblings could do nothing but watch. He just wanted to touch his father's watch and he was rewarded with punishment.

"Maybe it's time to make peace with our parents." Aegon cleared his throat leaning on the door-frame. Their parents weren't perfect - but they provided and took care of them. "Father was afraid of going back into poverty - and mother was afraid of him." he explained, remembering their relationship very clearly.

"I can forgive mom, but I'm not forgiving him." Aemond clenched his fist, placing all of the portraits inside a box. "He was a good dad to Rhaenyra - I don't know why he wasn't good to us." Aegon hummed, helping his brother hide all the photographs.

"Because we weren't worth changing for." Aemond laughed darkly, closing the box in his hands. "He never loved us, that's for sure - but mom did. Mom loved us with all her heart." he mused.

It was the last day of the funeral - Alicent's body was lowered into the ground and the crowd was beginning to disperse. The only ones left behind were Daemon and Aemond. "I hope that you'll be okay after this." the older man hummed, holding an umbrella to protect him from the sun (a habit he picked up while being in an Asian country.)

"You're an orphan now - Aemond. There's some things you need to let go." Daemon advised, maintaining his distance. He loathed the man, hated him with all of his soul - but Aemond was still his family, the blood of his blood, the child he comforted once upon a time. Monsters weren't born, they were made.

He holds out a small box. The world 'CASIO' was spelled in bold letters. The box was dusty - filled with cobwebs, but Aemond knew what it was. "I hope that you're able to break free from our generational chains - the sins of our past. (Your name) has not forgiven you, and she never will - I hope that you can forgive yourself." he added, walking closer to the boy.

Daemon wonders if there was something he could've done to prevent Aemond's decline. He wonders if he should've stopped his brother from hurting the little boy. He thinks about the life they could've had - the life the boy could've had.

He hands the watch to Aemond.

And with a last breath, he bids his silent farewell.

He's got a lot to live without. As he never met, what could've been Aemond.

Will he forgive himself? Or will the cycle repeat again?

taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @namelesslosers @immyowndefender @ammo2022 @perihelioneclipse @gracielikegrapes @joliettes@ammo23

[eddiernunson]

Found Again | Part 1 | Sequel to Trapped

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The year is 2005. Vecna is defeated, Steve Harrington is finding grey hairs. Eddie has already been dead for 19 years. Unfortunately, you have too. Since 1989. In a new life, new state, new friends, new school, you find yourself drawn to the new kid, and he to you. Something tells you it had to do with the dreams of a man with long hair when you were small.

[Edited bc i forgot the dang taglist]

Author's note: This story has been stirring in my brain for a hot minute, conceptualizing from the idea of loving Eddie in a past life and being so drawn to someone...and realizing why. The use of Y/N will entail the previous life and I ended up using my pseudonym as to not get confused until it just stuck so the modern day person does have a name yet we still use the you pronoun.

Thank you so much for turning in!

One last note. Yes, there will be smut. It will be less and with the resurrected character, but you don't have a strong as personality as Eddie's in a past life without carrying a few traits to the new one. ;)

---

Flashes of long brown hair, the smell of leather, a deep chuckle. Sunshine. Sadness, never ending sadness that seeped into despair.

When you were four, your mom could tell you how you went from a relatively normal child into a child who needed to be woken up from nightmares overnight. The nightmares were consistent for months, until one day, you slept soundly and seemed to forget all about it.

It wasn’t just the nightmares. You weren’t even sure your little brain could even call it that, they all started so softly, a warm honey-glow with an unseen face surrounded by golden light that stuck around until the last of it, and you wounded up waking up with tears streaming down your face by the end of it.

After the first time you told your mom a story she could never quite forget, she knew these nightmares, dreams, whatever, meant something.

She was driving you to preschool, worried about you as the look on your face when she found you crying in your sleep was a look of anguish she thought no four-year-old should have. She was willing to let the children’s music tape do all the talking for her when you let out, “I miss him.”

She’s sure she misheard you, not a clue to who you could’ve been talking about. “Pardon, sweetheart?” She asks you gently, her eye on the road and on your delicate little face.

“The man with long hair. I miss him.”

This perplexed her. She’s not sure you’ve ever truly met a man with long hair. Mullets haven’t really made any comeback since their heyday in the 80’s. “What…what happened to this man, darling?”

“He died.” You answer, and it comes out so nonchalantly she nearly breaks the car out of sheer panic. You were lucky to be in a life where you haven’t had to deal with the idea of death other than the trauma that was the Land Before Time.

“Oh. No wonder you miss him. When did he die?”

While the admission of his death was one thing, nothing could’ve prepared her for the next thing.

“Um, 1986.”

This went on as long as your dreams did. You didn’t have much to go on, only that he was kind, had long hair, was someone you cared about, and has passed. In 1986, three years before you were born. He was someone you had insisted you missed.

While the dreams were ongoing the conversations, she had with you were consistent enough to believe that you weren’t lying. How could a four-year-old even conceptualize time to understand years as numbers? You couldn’t. But you knew based on your dreams it was the year he had passed. As you continued to talk about it, she had enough belief to bring you to a psychic.

Granted a therapist might’ve been the better option but a psychic is something she could afford.

As you sat down in the chair, the psychic sitting across the cloth-covered table, something in your four-year-old brain could tell that she was the real thing. That she would respect your claims and take them seriously. “Welcome, dear. Maddie, was it?”

You nod your head, distracted by all the pretty colours as the curtains cascade up over you, all meeting in the middle into a shiny crystal chandelier. The room was candlelit, something that would normally scare you with the dancing shadows, but if anything it was like the shadows and her were on the same team.

“I hear you’ve been having some dreams…seeing someone you’ve never met before. Could you please describe them to me?”

You mom hasn’t asked you to describe any of them, not in those words, at least. The only thing she asked you was to describe the person you were dreaming about. “I see a boy.”

“Your age?”

“Older.”

Your mom hasn’t even thought to ask his age, for the record.

“How much older?”

You sigh, having no clear concept of age and appearance. The psychic picks up on it, and she finds a nearby catalogue in one of her shelves to indicate different ages. She points one out that would be your mom’s age. “Younger.” One that would be starting high school. “A little older.” One that appeared to be either just out of high school or about to graduate. “There.”

“Are these dreams stories? Like could you tell me your dreams from start to finish like a story?” She asks, tossing the catalogue aside.

You think on that question for a minute. “No. There’s no story.”

“Do they feel more fragmented?” She asks.

Your brows furrow, having no idea what fragmented means.

She understands. “Are they moving pictures that go into one another, like memories?”

You nod your head rapidly. Memories was the word you couldn’t grasp yet it made the most sense to you.

“Could you describe it for me?”

“Describe…what?” You ask, unsure where to even start.

“Anything would be helpful, dear. Just start where you’re comfortable.”

You take a deep breath, unsettled by the attention the adults suddenly give you. “I see…him. From far away. Then he’s close. He’s got long brown hair, and he smells like leather and…something but I don’t know what. He’s from Hawkins, Indiana. And I see bright colours and sun, then everything gets dark. I get sad. Not just regular sad. This sad hurts in my chest. I can’t breathe. Then mom wakes me up.”

The psychic sits on this, switching glances with your mom and sharing a silent conversation. “What happens when it gets dark? Does anything change to invoke that emotion?”

You nod, gulping. The emotion you feel when everything changes is devastating. Now that she had put a name to the word memory, you understood that’s what was occurring. This was a memory of an emotion, not the real thing, but if it wasn’t the real thing, the real thing must’ve been devastating.

“He dies.”

The psychic nods her head, and she’s quite enthralled by this point, but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at her. She’s seen a handful of resurrection cases in her lifetime, but none quite so young, or intense. “When does he die, darling?” On the phone, your mom had told her you were dreaming of a man who dies before you were born.

This turned the phone call from an inquiry to an invitation. Specifics like a singular year or locations often turn her onto cases. It’s easy to fake a memory from another life. She’s met many people who immediately freeze up when she offers a PI to investigate any evidence of their former lives. When someone truly remembers another life, they are drawn to it like a moth to a lamp.

But a four-year-old remembering another life is rare. She’s heard of it, seen a rare news article about it, but she’s never had the privilege of talking to someone so young about it.

“In 1986.” You answer her, looking to your mom for reassurance. She offers it, smiling warmly.

“So. Here’s the deal.” The psychic starts, leaning forward onto her elbows on the table. “I have seen this before. Are you willing to keep an open mind?”

Your mom nods, her hairs standing up on her arms.

“From what your daughter has told me,” She smiles at you, warmly, “it sounds like memories of a previous life.”

“Previous life?” She asks incredulously.

“Yes. Unconventional, I know. But no four-year-old likes to share stories as grim as hers are for the fun of it.” She pauses, letting your little mind wrap around this concept. You’re not so sure you did understand what she meant by a previous life, but by your mom’s reaction, it wasn’t exactly ideal. “She gives me enough information to take this seriously. In my line of work, it means researching a history. Possibly, her history. Now resurrecting from the opposite gender happens, but it sounds more like she cared about this person. With a small deposit, I can hire a private investigator to look into this for you. She gives a place and a time. Both can and might lead us to a person. If you want to look at the results this year, or in ten years it will be here.”

Your mom offers the deposit, a lousy forty dollars. Anyone willing to pay the fine means they want answers or are taking it as seriously.

“Thank you for answering all these questions, darling. Some day you might stop having these dreams. How young you are, you probably will. If one day these dreams come back to you somehow, come see me. I might have any answers you would be looking for.”

While you were terrified and intrigued all at the same time, your mom was just terrified. On some level this became too real for her. So, she didn’t take you back.

In fact, she stopped asking questions, hoping your dreams would die on their own if you didn’t spend too long thinking or talking about them.

On some level, she was right. Once she stopped any conversation about the mysterious person after waking you up from the dreams, they vanished within weeks.

It wasn’t for another thirteen years did the dreams gain any more significance to you.

-

Your alarm yanks you out of your sleep abruptly, the last day of summer over and a new school year starting. Junior year. Only two more years and you could get your ass out of here.

You stumbled through getting dressed, offering a half hello out the door, grabbing a bagel for an attempt at breakfast. The tragedy of sleeping in every day for summer then waking up early for school is heartbreak every teenager feels on another first day of school. You weren’t all that much of a morning person, so waking up, especially on the first day, took a long time.

With barely ten minutes until the first bell, you pull up to the school, ready to give enough energy to get by but not stand out. Nothing at this school gave you a reason to want to stand out. As you walked to the front where tables are laid out with school schedules, you looked around, observing the crowd of late arrivals.

The secretary called out next, handing your schedule to you wordlessly. She didn’t even need to ask your name, your high school got around only four or five new students a year. You reach into your bag for your flip phone to text Kaitlyn to ask her what her first period was when you realize you had forgotten it in your blue Camry.

The phone still in your car was unforgiveable, you jog back to it to grab it when a van pulls up to the school, tires screeching as it was five minutes until the first bell. As you reached into your car, you kept your eye on the mysterious van as you knew which car belonged to who by the end of your sophomore year. You didn’t know this one. This van looked like it spent a few days at Woodstock.

Ok, it wasn’t that old.

But it sure had some time on it.

The owner got out of the driver’s seat, and the moment he turned around you felt your breath caught in your throat. He was gorgeous. His short, curly brown hair sat pretty on his head as his lanky stature grabbed at his backpack to head into the school.

As he ran to the tables sat out front, you had to catch your breath, your heart beating out of your chest as this essential need to be near him clawed its way out from your chest.

-

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