#new jersey state tree name

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Taming the Supe

✨ Soldier Boy x Fem!Therapist!Reader ✨

Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.

A/N: Let me be upfront and say that I actually haven’t seen the boys 😭 not my cup of tea as far as shows go. So this perception of SB might be very far off. But like, he’s hot and he keeps showing up on my feed so this is happening >:) and in my defense I did try to do a little bit of research on America’s Ass(hole), so hopefully that shows lol. From what I understand he’s a TERRIBLE person who just so happens to be extremely attractive, so slay. Oh, also, to any therapist reading this: I am so, SO sorry.

Icons by me! Any and all interaction is very much appreciated!

Also- I’m looking for a beta reader/ editor! If you think you’d be interested, dm me!

Content Warnings: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🌶️honestly that about sums it up. There’s SOME- A LITTLE- plot but it’s more plop if you catch my drift. This is toe-curling, eyes-rolling, name-screaming, tsunami-coming level shit, ya hear?? At least, that’s what I went for. ;)

Just note that SB is… very SB for the better half of it. And he has an INSANE breeding kink.

The ending’s real rushed cause honestly this was mainly written for the spice, but hopefully it’s enjoyable!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible. In all regards.

He was a jackass- apple didn’t fall far from the tree as far as he and his dad were concerned. It wasn’t necessarily Ben’s fault; you cant help your blood. But because of said aforementioned father, Ben was brought up on misogynist ideals and the ideal that he was simultaneously both a disappointment and the bearer of a massive god-complex. The former applied to when he was around his father, the latter to when he was around literally anyone else.

Not only that, but he was separated from society for forty years, being tortured- sorry, “experimented on”- by a skeevy Russian organization that his own teammates had pawned him off too. Sure, he had committed massive, unforgivable atrocities, but quite frankly, the other supes on Payback weren’t much better. Maybe not as bad, but certainly not much better.

He re-walked upon the United States at the very young age of one hundred and three, coupled with PTSD, a god complex and more “back in my day” rants than your weird old uncle could ever hope to spew.

And now the thing is: it’s easy to make him look like he blends in. Trim the disheveled forty-year-old beard, give him some boyish bangs, throw him in a tight white shirt and a Giants jersey with grey sweats and all of a sudden you have a normal looking, abnormally attractive dude. Looks maybe thirty seven. Has a smile that has probably actually, literally charmed the pants off of someone.

But to make him act right? That’s the hard part.

That also where you came in.

You were a therapist with a damn good reputation. Shouldn’t have been involved with Supes in the slightest, but you owed Hughie Campbell a favor. Good kid who just so happened to have powers. So be it.

The kid had stumbled into your office a few years before Soldier Boy returned, and you had had multiple sessions before he dropped of the grid. You paid it no mind- you have a lot of clients, and therapy isn’t a good world to get attached to any of them.

But then one day, after one of Homelander’s many destructive “saves” of the city, you found yourself stuck in a burning building. By some miracle Hughie was in the same building, and he teleported you out and onto safer ground. Sure it was awkward being held up bridal style by a young dude who was ass-naked, but stranger things have happened.

Because of the save, you felt that you owed him, and told him as much. He was gracious, not wanting to take advantage of you, and you went back to not hearing anything from him.

That is, until just after the news article about Soldier Boy’s return broke out. It was definitely a headline that had caused you to raise a brow, but from what you knew America’s first supe was not what Vought made him out to be in the eyes of the public. He was an asshole who killed activists, and was most likely very racist. If anything, seeing the headline made you slightly wary for the good of the world. But you let it slide, figuring that if you already existed in a world where psychos like Homelander did you would probably be fine if there was one more.

Well, you were very much wrong.

A few days after the article broke out, Hughie called you. Asked if you would be okay to take you up on that favor. Of course, you said yes- you were only alive because of him. He had showed up to your house, and teleported you to a dinghy motel with no explanation, rendering you both in the same awkward situation as before. Him holding you bridal style, ass naked. If you had a nickel for every time he’s done that… you’d have ten cents, but it’s still oddly specific of it to happen twice.

“Listen,” he had said, setting you down. You had no choice but to do so, given that he was ass naked and it would be really awkward to see that. So you kept your eyes locked on his as he talked. “You know how Soldier Boy is back?”

“Mhm…” you nodded warily, knowing damn well that that was an ominous hook to your situation.

“Uh, he’s insane.”

“Sorry, he’s, like, he is? Presently?”

“Yeah… he’s in there and I think he would really benefit from a little therapy. His mind’s wired like a grandpa who has stories from every war.”

“Fuck, Hugh,” you cursed. He winced, his sweet eyes opened wide. “Sorry. It’s just.. are you kidding me?” Soldier Boy? It would probably take a team of specialists to figure out what’s going on in that head.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you at least try?”

“Only for you.” It was really hard to have resolve with those puppy dog eyes staring at you.

“Thanks, y/n. Really.”

So you had walked in behind him; waiting as he threw on some sweats that were in a plastic bag outside of the motel room door.

You walked in together, only to see the most beautiful man you’d ever seen sitting on the bed, shoes still on.

Look. Everyone has fantasized about Soldier Boy at least once in their lives. The pinnacle of physical perfection, charisma oozing from his pores- it was hard not to. You were no exception- in your younger years there had certainly been more than a few nights where you were fucking yourself to pictures or videos of him, pathetically rutting on your clit and wishing it was his huge, gloved hands instead.

Of course, that was well before the article on the truth about him broke out. After that he had majorly lost his sex appeal.

However, seeing him in person immediately flashed you back to being younger and sexually frustrated, wondering how a man like that even existed. He was even better looking in person, piercing green eyes boring holes into you.

Thankfully it only took one douchey comment to snap you back to reality.

“So prostitutes are still a thing?” he asked, the question directed at Hughie. You immediately balled your hands into fists at your side, ready to tell this old-ass off, before remembering that you were there on professional business.

“No, no, she’s a therapist,” Hughie told him. “Y/n L/n, the best in the business.”

“You brought me a shrink?” he laughed incredulously. “Fuck you, I don’t have shell shock!”

He definitely had shell shock.

You didn’t bother waiting for Hughie to answer. “Listen, Mr. Boy, I’m only here ‘cause I owe this kid a favor. Would it really pain you so much to talk about yourself for an hour?” Your hands were planted on your hips.

“Man, when did women get so feisty?” he asked, that 1950s accent oozing through his words.

“Once they came to their senses,” I say with sass.

“So what? All I have to do is talk to a pretty thing about me?”

“Pretty much,” you conceded, ignoring the “compliment” he payed you.

“Fine.” Great. He agreed. How wonderful.

“I’m going to get some food, I’ll be back in an hour. If you need anything at all, just text me,” Hughie told me. “Thanks again.”

“Sure,” you replied, leaning in by his ear. “I think you’re going to owe me after this.

“Yeah, you’re probably not wrong,” he agrees, patting you on the back before teleporting away to the store. Man, this power thing… never gets any less weird.

“Take a seat,” Soldier Boy patted his lap.

“Hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, sitting on the other bed. Look, if he hadn’t been the jackass you knew him to be you most definitely would’ve sat on his lap. But you knew better. At least in the moment. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“M’name’s Ben, and I’m a soldier. My daddy hated me, so became a superhero. Surprise, surprise, he still hated me. But I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Might go take a piss on his grave while I’m here.”

“Interesting,” you murmur, putting together a mental file. Name: Ben. No last name? Weird. Daddy issues- makes the god complex make sense. Hmm. “Did you ever have a mother in the picture?”

“No. Died when I was a boy.” Added to file.

“Okay, so then why take the serum?” You know why, but you want to see something.

“You deaf? I said it was cause my daddy hated me.”

“You took a untested, potentially dangerous serum just because of your daddy issues?” you ask, matching his rude tone.

“You- you know what? This is boring. How about you and I fuck instead of this, hm?” he asks. Him saying the word fuck turned you on more than it should, but his misogyny was a quick turnoff.

“I think I’m just going to text Hughie,” you said, moving to stand, wholly unimpressed.

“Wait, no- I did it cause I hated feeling weak. Feeling stupid. Thought it would turn me into someone, just turned me into a jackass machine,” he said honestly, his eyes big and sad.

“Okay,” you said simply, sitting back down. That’s much more like it. “So then what led you to murder innocent people?”

If this were a normal session you would have never asked such a thing. Ever. But this was anything but normal.

“What did you just say to me?” And there it was. A glimpse of that Soldier Boy quick temper. You probably shouldn’t have been making him mad, but you didn’t know how else to go about this given that you weren’t in your professional environment.

“You heard me,” you told him with your arms crossed, trying to bite back the fear caused by

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns, fists balled at his sides. “A question like that’s gonna cost ya.”

You roll your eyes, standing my ground. “Why. Did. You. Murder. Them?”

“Because they deserved it,” he yelled, standing up. You do your best not to flinch, but he was an imposing six-and-some feet tall.

“How? Did the Milk family deserve it? Did their son?” you yell, fighting off the fear in your voice.

He stops then, jaw clenching. “I was the good guy. The hero.” His voice breaks, ever so slightly. His green eyes burn holes into yours. You stare right back, just as intensely.

“So, imposter syndrome.”

“No!” he roared, the sound threatening to bring down the roof of the motel room.

“They were good people. Activists. Made a difference in their community.”

“That got what was coming to them.”

“What? A car being thrown at their house?”

“You…” he steps closer. You sit up in the bed, back against the headboard. “You don’t know me.”

I stand up then. Not nearly as tall as him, but in anger. “Yeah, but I know your actions.”

“Then you should think I’m a hero.”

“I don’t.” I say grimly, arms crossed.

“I’m Soldier Boy, for Christ’s sake,” he spat.

“Yeah, and I’m Y/N L/N. Who fucking cares.” Well this went from therapy to argument real fast.

He leans down then, by my ear. It’s all you can do not to back away as his hot breath fans the column of your neck. “Maybe you should.” His voice is gravelly, rough from anger but also from something else…

“Well I won’t.” You said, maintaining your ground.

“Wrong move, sweetheart,” he said, before crashing his lips to yours. You squeaked into the kiss, surprised, but he just took initiate to shove his tongue in your mouth, exploring with great fervor.

And you knew damn well how wrong this was. How unprofessional you had been; how bad it was that his tongue, this tongue of a murderer, was half down your throat. But in the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because he was just that good of a kisser. Made you forget about the misogyny and his volatility. At least, for the time being.

He pulled away, smirking down at you.

“If we do this, you’re going to talk to me after. Act like you’re an adult,” you told him sternly, as if your underwear wasn’t soaked with arousal from the kiss.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled.

“I fucking mean it,” you reiterated, hands on his pecs.

“And I fucking said fine,” he retorted. “Ben,” he introduced as an after thought.

“Okay, cool. Ben.”

“That’s the name I better hear coming off those pretty lips in a couple minutes here,” his gaze darkened with lust, emerald green eyes darkened to the color of a forest cloaked in the dead of night..

“O-okay.” And there it is, the first time you gave into the stutter derived from your desire. This was dangerous, but once he kissed you again you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

When he pulled away he thumbed at your lower lip, and you immediately react led to his touch, mouth falling open around the digit. “Good girl,” he praised, and you hated the way you felt proud at his words. He pulled off his jersey and under shirt, urging you to do the same until you both stood before each other, topless. He crowded you against the bed until you fell back, calves draped over the edge. He made room for himself between your legs, kissing you furiously, and you let out little breathy sighs as he did so.

“Attagirl,” he breathed when you gasped his name as he bit along your collarbone. He continued his fiery trail, from the juncture of your earlobe and neck to your collar bone and then down your chest, and you knew damn well that you weren’t going to be able to cover up half of the marks he gave you. But you also couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You-you can come in me,” you mumbled as he kisses the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I’ll fill you up real good” he said, eliciting a gasp from you when he bites your nipple.

He continued his path of kisses down your body, and in the bottom of your eye you could already see dark marks on the tops of your breasts, making your head fuzzy.

He stopped at your pants, biting the juncture of your hip and and thigh.

“‘m gonna get you ready for me,” he explained, before ripping off your pants and underwear in one go. This is not a metaphor, he literally tore them of you. You whined in protest, but he dismissed you, saying “I’ll get you new ones.”

And even though you knew he most definitely wouldn’t, his breath on your clit stopped you from caring.

He gave you no warning before diving into your soaked pussy, and you all but screamed his name when he fid, your fingers grasping his hair for dear life. He groaned into your cunt but kept going, spurred on by your actions.

The thing was, you hadn’t expected him to be good at eating pussy. He was from, like, the forties, after all. You thought that most people then probably didn’t bother as no one really cared about women and probably their pleasure back then.

Well, Soldier Boy- Ben- was very different.

He worked at you methodically, licking long stripes before thrusting his tongue in an out of you, testing the waters. He kept eye contact, and you could feel the smugness in his gaze as he watched you come apart.

Eventually he switched so that he was sucking on your clit, which would’ve been enough to bring you over already but then he added one of his long, thick fingers to your pussy. You yelped his name, not ready for the stretch and on the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you urged, whining. “Please don’t stop, Ben.”

And he didn’t, adding a second finger and scissoring within you. If his fingers were already like this, his cock…

But you couldn’t think about that then, nor could you really think about anything at all because he started tracing tight patterns on your bud and added a third finger, stretching you so far that you had no choice but to come. He helped you ride out your high for longer than you thought possible, lapping up all of your release before standing up to full height.

“That good, Sweets?” he smirked, looking down at your fucked out self. You nodded dumbly, and he chuckled. “Thought so.”

Your release covered his facial hair, but he didn’t seem to care much, just wiped a little off with his forearm. He then kicked off his shoes and took off his pants and underwear, and that’s when you saw it.

You were already baffled by him- beyond hot, perfect physique, pussy-eating champion, etc.

But his cock? It was huge. And it was perfect, a word that shouldn’t be able to be used to describe the male genitalia.

“Ben- that’s not going to fit-,” you gasp, sounding like a cheap porno.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, and from his tone you could tell he was going to bottom out no matter what.

Oh, god.

He climbed over you, his large forearms on either side of your head as he rested over you in a plank. He put a pillow under your hips, and you knew you were in for it.

He rubbed his glorious dick over your hole, your clit, and through your folds, covering it in your slick, and you moaned his name.

“Good girl,” he praised, before finally lining up with your entrance. You were already clenching around nothing, but then he started pushing in.

If his fingers were big, his dick… even the tip had you a moaning mess.

“Oh, honey, you’re tighter than a virgin who’s never touched herself,” he groaned as he pushed in, you writhing beneath him. “‘n I just stretched you out, too.” The pillow under your hips let him get impossibly deep, and after an eternity he finally bottomed out, so large that you shouldn’t have been able to take him. But you did, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but you were a whimpering, whiny mess under him.

“I’m gonna move now,” he told you, before pulling almost all the way out and back in, slowly. You were writhing under him, but he was undeterred, and just kept going until you gave him easy access.

“Ben?” you asked, your voice sweet. And you didn’t know what possessed you to add the next part of your question, but you did. “Can you fuck me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he groaned, before rearing back again and slamming back into you. It was hard and it was rough, and it was exactly what you wanted even if you knew you weren’t gonna be able to sit right for a week.

You literally had a supe cock in you. You’d seen dildos of these, maybe even owned one, but nothing could do the real thing justice as you whined beneath it.

And if you thought it was already enough just taking him like this, once he started talking you were through.

“Yeah, take it,” he smirked, pounding into you at literal superhuman speed. “I’m going to destroy this cunt until we’re both leaking out of it, and then I’m going to keep going,” he promised against your collarbone, biting anywhere he pleased. You whimper against him, pussy clenching around his enormous length as it crashed in and out of your fluttering walls.

“You like that? Wanna be my little slut?” he grinned, rutting on your clit so you couldn’t answer. “You’d be a real good slut. Would just keep you at home all day, naked and always ready for me. Always full of me too,” he mused, his pace somehow getting rougher. Your mouth was dropped in a permanent ‘o’ as you reveled in the way his huge hands are squeezing your hips and pulling you against him, filing you to the base.

“No other boy can do it like me, sweetheart,” he said cockily. “Fill you up so good, make you mewl.” And as it turns out he was most definitively right about that. But then it was too hard to think about what’s right and wrong when-

“Ben- I- ‘m gonna-.”

“Aww baby, what’s the matter? ‘M I fucking you too good? You can’t talk?”

You moaned pathetically, pulling on his fluffy hair.

“I know, I know,” he said with a soft grunt. “Come for me, pretty thing. Come.” And you did. Hard, all consumingly. It hurt so good that you almost blacked out, but he kept going, doing his damnedest to overstimulate you.

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart. Ain’t even close,” he told you, pulling you off of him and sitting, legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. He grabbed you, letting you straddle his lap before slamming you down on his length. At this angle he could get impossibly deeper, his dick easily reaching your cervix on every thrust. You screamed, holding onto him for dear life with your face buried in his neck.

“Gonna fill you until you’re full, and then some,” he promised, lifting you up and down, flexing that super strength. “Rub on that pretty clit for me, doll,” he asked. You tried, you really did, but you were just so sensitive.

“That’s okay, I’ll do everything for you, you just take it like a good slut,” he cooed, bringing a hand between the two of you and rutting on your clit without abandon. You came again with a wail of his name before he pistoned into you sloppily, finally spilling his own release into you. And it was messy, and you were far too full to keep going, but he doesn’t care, somehow still hard even though he had just painted your walls with his thick, sticky cum.

You were babbling at this point, raking your nails against him as he kept going to town on your cunt.

“It’s just been too long, baby,” he explained, kissing the side of your head. “Got a little too much energy.” Yeah no shit, with the way that you knew that you were not going to be able to walk.

But he just couldn’t seem to shut up. “Y’know, if I had you back in my day we would’ve had ten kids. You would’ve give birth to one and then I’d put another one in you the next month,” he said as he continued his brutal pace. And damn, this man really had a breeding kink. It was not really your thing-kids tend to get in the way of careers, and also, you were infertile- but anything’s hot when it comes out of those plush lips with the 50s accent, so, naturally, you moan in response.

“Would’ve kept you sated all the time too, sweetheart. Any time you were hot and bothered, had an attitude… I’d fuck it out of you,” he murmured, enveloping you in his arms to hold you closer. You didn’t know if it’s the proximity to him, his voice, or the way that he hasn’t really let you come down from any of your highs, but suddenly you were coming again… just in a different way.

“Aww baby, did you just squirt?” he chuckled. You did all you can to further hide your face in his neck as he just kept going, only concious enough to register your embarrassment and fatigue. He pulls you by your hair to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, that was so hot.” You smiled, cheeks pink, your somehow still horny self proud of his compliment.

“It’s okay, just give me one more and you’ll be done, alright?”

“O-okay,” you say shakily. You hadn’t even noticed hot much your legs were quivering until then, and he laughed, squeezing them close.

“You’re so cute, y’know that?” he praised, rubbing your clit. Your blush became even more furious before you came again at him tracing patterns into your poor, overstimulated, sensitive bud. He came in you shortly after with a very sexy grunt, and it was just leaking out of you, going all over the tops of his thighs. He held you at the base of his cock though, not ready to pull out.

“You alright, Dollface?” he asked, gingerly moving- somehow while keeping his cock in you- you onto your back. You nodded, sleepiness overtaking you.

“Good girl,” he nuzzled your nose, gifting you the view of all of the pretty freckles on his cheeks looking like gold specs. You whined as he pulls out, and he tutted, plugging you up with his fingers.

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. If you were a supe we’d be going another ten rounds, but I know you’re tired,” he warned, cock still semi-hard.

“Ben,” you gestured towards it, unsure what you were going to say because as much as you wish you had his stamina, you didn’t.

“It’ll be fine, sweets,” he shrugged it off. “Perks of the unbelievable stamina.” He kissed your forehead, before lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of you in attempt to keep the cum in. Pitiful tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation.

“There, there,” he cooed, kissing them away. “Just don’t want to waste any,” he smirked, before leaving his long, thick fingers where they were inside you, all the way up to the knuckle. Your legs can’t stop shaking, and you try to talk but you can’t.

“Let me get you some water, put your fingers here for me,” he said, waiting until you do so, feeling your sticky release on your hand. You knew damn well that you werenot going to be able to stand.

“Here, sweets,” he returned, still ass naked, holding a glass, taking your fingers out of your cunt and licking them clean. “We taste real good, sugar.” You whimpered, ready to go at it again, abused pussy be damned. Speaking of, the poor cleaning staff… your mixed releases were dripping out of your poor hole, coating the bed and the bottom of your thighs in the stickiness.

“You really are an insatiable little minx,” he chuckled, holding you up so you can take a sip of the water. You obliged, eagerly chugging it down.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” you muttered, resting your head on his freckled shoulders.

“Looks like you’re going to need to stick around, so I can take care of you,” he squeezed you.

“I’ll tell Hughie to take another hour, tell him that the therapy’s going real well,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah, real well. Definitely a happy ending, if you catch my drift.”

“Multiple happy endings.”

“Atta girl,” he kisses the top of your head.

You sat there in silence for a bit, basking in the afterglow as he rocked you back and fourth gently.

You’d seen so many sides to this man: Misogynistic, quick tempered, sex-god… but sweetness? This was the one that surprised you. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Ben?” you broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I could help you, y’know. If you want, anyway. And it wouldn’t even be proper therapy- you know, cause we just- yeah.” your words were shaky but you meant them. There was something about the supe that made you think that maybe, just maybe you could help him.

“I dunno, sweets. I think I’m a little too far gone.”

Vulnerability. That’s progress.

“Could you at least try?”

“I can’t say no to you,” he said. And you’d take him up on that.

••••••••••••A Couple Years Later••••••••••••

Ben Johnson, as he was now known, ended up becoming a normal member of society. After a LOT of work, he’s grown into himself. He cares about people, his ego’s lessened, his temper too. You had helped him through the whole way- gotten him a proper therapist and everything. And now you two were a couple who could just go out and get donuts, and do normal couple things.

“They’re cream-filled!” he beams boyishly, his bangs in his face and his eyes sparkling. He sets the box down in front of you, somehow having already gotten powdered sugar in his beard. He leans in and whispers excitedly, “you know, like you!”

“You’re bad,” you giggle, as if you don’t have him leaking out of you where you sit. You had stopped for a quickie before you made it to the donut shop, it wasn’t your fault that you were so irresistible to each other.

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” he winks with a click of the tongue. Which is true- there’s a certain softness to him these days. His jaw isn’t so set, the crow’s feet by his eyes have deepened. He isn’t so volatile, his tempers dissolved a bit. He’s become more human.

Not to mention that he’s made great progress in apologizing to his victims and making amends to the best of his ability. It may never be enough, but now that he has someone to teach him how to be right and a better understanding of the complexities of the modern world, there’s a chance. And that’s a chance worth taking, to help someone who could’ve been good become good.

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible, but you had nailed it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you enjoyed this fic! If you have any ideas for headcanons or fics, my ask box is always open! I don’t bite- not unless you want me too 😏 (so. So. Sorry 😭)

Xx!

[cthulhus-curse]

Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10,031

Warnings: Drugging, Dubious Consent, Impact Play, Jealousy, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mommy Kink, Nursing Kink, Possessive Sex, Sadism, Smut, Somnophilia, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Womb Tattoos | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: You never expected to meet the twins you had given away over a decade prior on your 29th birthday, but after a chance encounter, you visit the quaint little town of Westview to find more than you bargained for at the hands of its mayor — the dark, elusive, puppeteering Wanda Maximoff. (Once Upon A Time AU)

The journey to New Jersey was seemingly endless. All which could be seen from the inside of your yellow bug were dark trees which embraced the dimly-lit roads of the rural side of the state. It had not been your plan to drive through the most remote part of the tristate area, living in the depths of New York City yourself, but for a spontaneous birthday trip, it was entertaining to say the least.

You eyed the two small children sleeping in the back of the car through the rearview mirror. It had been years since you dared remember the twins you gave away over a decade before. You were young and stupid, getting pregnant before you had even finished your first year of college. Not being fit to be a parent, you decided to have an outsider raise them. Although you never met the one who adopted them, you just knew they were in good hands.

The last thing you had expected was for them to show up at your doorstep on your twenty-ninth birthday. Your phone was in hand ready to call security about two missing children, but after the one with longer hair, Tommy he said his name was, told a story about twins you once gave away, you nearly passed out from disbelief.

They had carried around a rather curious book filled with various comic book stories. You knew them from passing through stores and seeing such familiar names present, but when they each told you they were real people in their town, it took all your energy not to laugh then and there. After brushing it off as a simple case of being children, listening in to them talking about how various people were from such stories, such as their mother being the Scarlet Witch, the waitress at the dinner Black Widow, their psychologist Hulk, among others, you made up your mind.

Not trusting a train to take them back home in the late hours of the night, you drove out to a quaint little town called Westview, New Jersey. You could only assume it was as small as a simple street without much surrounding it as it didn’t even show up online, but with a map – old-fashioned as it was – the boys gave you, you set forth to bring them home. The least you expected was for them to keep you company through the drive, knowing not to get close or else you’d get attached once again, but as soon as you left the city, they passed out.

“I can’t believe I have to drive to creepy New Jersey on my goddamn birthday,” you grumbled. There wasn’t much waiting for you at home, only a frozen pizza to heat up while you watched reruns of your favorite comedy shows, but then again, that was the only entertainment you cared for.

Far too afraid to awaken the slumbering children, no music was put on. You carried lazy, exhausted eyes while driving through the empty roads, confused at the fact that it was a seemingly desolate path no one dared venture forth. It had already been an hour since the last sign of civilization was seen.

When you finally saw the sign reading ‘Westview’, relief shot through you. Only a few more minutes and you’d be driving back home to resume your boring night. Impromptu babysitting was not something you’d signed up for.

“Hey, little runts, we’re here,” you said while turning around to shake the boys awake. “Come on, where’s your home? Your parents must be worried sick about you two.”

“Our mom doesn’t care,” Billy sleepily mumbled, rubbing his eyes as she awoke before his brother. “She sucks.”

“Dude, you’re like ten. Everyone thinks their mom sucks at that age until you’re at least 17,” you shrugged. “And you’re the ones that left this bumfuck town to find me . What kind of birthday gift is this? Haven’t you ever heard of the postal service? Couldn’t you send, like, arts & crafts and call it a day?”

“What’s bumfuck?” Tommy suddenly piped up from the other seat.

“Your parents are going to kill me,” you whispered to yourself. “Just tell me, guys. Where to now?”

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After seemingly driving around town in circles, you landed before a decently sized mansion. It was much bigger than the other surrounding houses. For a moment you frowned, seeing how private and reclusive, bushed guarding it from perfect view, it was. With a front yard covered with blossoming apple trees and a lengthy path leading up to the front door, you felt a sense of familiarity hit you – remembering seeing it once in a dream along with a red headed creature with glowing scarlet eyes made you shake your head with disbelief.

“Home sweet home. It’s time to say goodbye, kids,” you announced when turning to the twins. They had their knees close to their chest while eyeing their house with fear. It was not a good sign. “Come on, get out of the car. I’m exhausted and need to crash soon before I kill myself in the car.”

“Can you walk us to the front door?” Billy asked with a hopeful voice.

“Kid, you’re practically an adult now. I’m pretty sure you can walk by yourselves,” you rolled your eyes with slight annoyance. Seeing their glassy eyes in the dimly-lit car broke your heart. No names, no attachment. And yet you found yourself wanting to wrap them up, your own children, in a hug. “Okay fine. Grab your things and pray your mom doesn’t kill me.”

You had barely stepped out of the car, opening the back door for the twins to exit, when the front of the house revealed a shadowed figure. Walking down the bricked path to the mansion was seemingly tedious. You weren’t afraid of many things in life let alone for the woman who stood back, a messy bun over her head and donning a rather expensive dress only accented with high-heels and crossed arms over her chest. The closer you got, the more your eyes widened.

With your subconscious taking you back to such a dream, everything in your surroundings turned a macabre dark red. There had been pitch black trees without leaves in sight as their trunks stood mangled as though tortured by the very presence of the woman at the end of the seemingly haunted forest. Glowing red eyes had pulled you forth then and as you stared at the door of the mansion, you saw them once again.

“Please don’t take us back there,” Billy suddenly cried when tugging at your shirt.

“I have to,” you sighed, knowing the kids weren’t going down without a fight. “I’m sure your parents are worried sick about you.”

“We don’t have parents. Just a mom and she’s evil,” Tommy explained from your other side. You hadn’t even noticed how they lacked the book they always carried, leaving it in your car for their ulterior motives.

“Evil?” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”

“She is. She doesn’t love us,” Tommy shrugged, huffing as he stared down at who appeared to be his mother inside the house.

“She only pretends to,” Billy finished.

“Kids,” you sighed, knowing exactly how they felt. Dropping to your knees to be at the same height, you threw them a sad smile. You’d already gotten far too close, so you mused a bit more closeness couldn’t hurt. “I’m sure that’s not true-”

“Boys!”

The familiarity of the voice which rang through made you frown.

“Tommy! Billy!” the voice exasperated. The hidden figure which once stood by the door ran towards you. Arms were quickly wrapped about the twins, hugging them close. You noticed tears in her eyes which mirrored those of a crocodile. Ignoring the wild red mane which you knew from your dream, your lips formed a thin line. “Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?”

“We found our real mom!” Tommy snarled before grabbing his brother’s hand. Neither of them dared turn back, instead running off into the house and ignoring everything their mother, well, adoptive mother, had spoken their way. Grimacing, you were left alone with the older woman.

“Y-you’re my boys’ birth mother?”

There was something enchanting and yet secretive about her. You couldn’t help but feel as though she towered over your being, smirking with raised eyebrows while you hid underneath her shadow. Each little second that passed by in silence, you allowed your eyes to rummage through her body. The tight, perfectly cut black dress accented her thin eyeliner. Hands were on her hips, clearly dominating you without daring to say a word. You allowed yourself to stare up her perfectly toned legs to her midsection, then find her cleavage before snapping yourself up to her lips. With them parted slightly, lipstick all prim and proper, you knew she was a woman impossible to forget.

“Hi,” you awkwardly replied. At the hospital when giving away the twins, no one had dared to prepare you for such a moment. It was supposed to be a closed off adoption, no one was to know and yet you were easily found by a pair of children who carried hatred for their mother.

The older woman took a moment to compose herself, lips going from disdain to a fake smile you saw right through.

“How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted?” She questioned, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t recognize.

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Got anything stronger?”

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Tommy and Billy had long run upstairs when you were allowed into the house. Greeting the woman who you learned was Wanda Maximoff, mayor of Westview, was awkward on its own. Mostly due to the rampant disbelief and similarity to a witch having appeared in your dreams. On the way to their home, the twins had shown off a book filled with various comic book characters – superheroes at that. You shook your head when they mentioned an entity called the Scarlet Witch, said to be their mother, but as you eyed the woman who handed you a glass of brandy, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity win.

“How did they find me?” You asked after taking a sip of your drink. With the way it went burning down your throat, you closed your eyes with relief.

“No idea.” Wanda replied, her viridescent eyes unmistakably glowing red without your knowledge. “When I adopted them, they were only three weeks old. Records were sealed. I was told the birth mother didn’t want any contact.”

“You were told right.”

“And the father?” she curiously wondered. You took note of how she refused to drink alcohol and instead went to her apple cider. Her apparent obsession with apples was something you found quite amusing.

“There was one,” you giggled a bit. It was a mistake more like it, a chance encounter at a bar you were far too young to enter with a fake ID and your friends. You hadn’t even gotten his name, but of course ended up with his children.

“Do I need to be worried about him?” Wanda dragged herself down the hall where you followed obediently. Without daring to say a word, you’d exhibit no hesitation when listening on to silent orders.

“Nope. He doesn’t even know.”

“Do I need to be worried about you, Ms. Y/L/N?” There was fear in her voice which dismayed you from the well-put together, secretive woman. Whatever the kids said, you could tell she truly cared for them.

“Absolutely not,” you were quick to reply. As much as they would love for you to take them away, you had your own life built without any children. There was a reason you had given them to someone else. You weren’t fit to be a mother so Wanda, even as severe as she seemed, took that place in your name.

The office reeked of cinnamon apples when you first walked inside. The smokey nature of it, only a light turned on in the corner alongside a strip of pictures the mother and children pilled, made a warmth settle over your chest. You always did pride yourself in holding down your alcohol, but even a slight sip of the drink made your head feel woozy. Sitting down on the couch, you huffed. With hazy eyes you could barely see Wanda’s blurred figure who closed the door and sat across from you.

Gripping the faux leather couch, you frowned. There was still control you exerted over your body, but felt a strange, wicked attachment to Wanda. Looking down at the drink you noticed bubbles rising from the remaining liquid. It wasn’t a good sign but then again you were far too gone to care.

“I’m sorry they dragged you out of your life. I really don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“The kids are having a rough time,” you shrugged. It took a moment to situate yourself, blinking various times until your vision, to your disdain, only got worse. “Happens.”

“You have to understand, ever since I became mayor balancing things has been tricky. You have a job I assume?”

“I, uh, I keep busy, yeah,” you shook your head. Wanda stared into your soul when you so much as made eye contact with her. She licked her lips, hunger striking while you grew more loopy by the second.

“Imagine having another one on top of it. That’s having a single mom.” Crossing her legs, the woman’s eyes flickered over your body. Beneath the pristine cover as a mayor lay a beast, a witch, who only wanted to come out and play. Unbeknownst to you, she had been expecting your arrival ever since she casually dropped a slip of papers near her children’s room knowing they would unknowingly bring you to her. “So I push forward. Am I strict? I suppose, but I do it for their own good. I want my boys to excel in life. I don’t think that makes me evil, do you?”

“I’m sure they’re just saying that because of the comic book thing,” you pointed out.

“What comic book thing?”

There was feigned confusion from Wanda. Truly she knew about the book which carried the stories of the townspeople. It was crafted with the help of the Darkhold, telling each person’s lives in the universe they had previously called their own. As the ruler of the cosmos, she simply had to find her children. If it took taking a chunk of their universe and bringing them to a town, which was not supposed to exist in that universe, in another, then so be it. Wanda would have her happy ending no matter what – you were only an added bonus to having her children already.

“Oh you know, their book. How they think everyone’s a superhero from it,” you chuckled at the mere idea of it. For a moment you wondered if you were in it. “Like their shrink is the Hulk.”

“I’m sorry. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh. You know what? It’s none of my business,” you ended up awkwardly laughing. It was so difficult to breathe. With eyelids growing heavy, you held onto the couch for support. “They’re your kids and I really should be heading back.”

In your attempts to stand up, you nearly fell face first after so much of a step. With surprising speed Wanda was there to grab you in place, humming amusement as you fell onto her. She grabbed your hips, pulling you close enough to her until your face lay against her shoulder, bodies melting together.

“Of course. It’s getting late, darling. I’ll have to get you to a safe place all by myself. We can continue this conversation some other time.” She dragged you out of the room, flicking her wrist so that all the lights there dimmed down and the door closed behind her. Lips were pressed against your cheek, dropping a kiss there before making their way to your ear. “Have a good night, darling,” she breathed out with a tone dripping with lust. “Happy birthday.”

There came a frown when she uttered the words, but you were barely conscious to properly react. Your body had a mind of its own as it sagged while being pulled away. Wanda had your body and soul the first time she had set her eyes on you in your dream, only controlling you by having slipped something into your drink. As fear began to set in, eyes growing wide, everything suddenly turned black.

Under Wanda’s grasp, you were nothing but an obedient pet.

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When you awoke your head felt like it was about to burst. You grimaced, massaging your temples as the pain shot through the rest of your body, which was suspiciously lacking clothes let alone for your underwear. Not even the bed sheets beneath your back covered you up while inside the strange room. It carried a horrid floral wallpaper similar to that of the 80’s almost as though you had gone back in time.

Sighing, you shook your head. All you could remember from the previous night was having one too many drinks at the mayor’s place before inevitably needing to be taken away to the local inn. a brain filled with fake memories was not something you could put a finger on, only following what you believed to be real.

“I’m such an idiot,” you mumbled to yourself. Ignoring the growing headache from what you imagined to be a typical hangover, you huffed. Making yourself look like a drunk in front of your children’s mother who incidentally was the most powerful person in town. You ignored the book that casually sat on the bedside table of the inn, mysteriously appearing alongside you after having previously been sitting in the backseat of your car.

Deciding to get a head start on the drive back home, you gathered a few of your belongings sprawled across the room and headed out. The lanky hallway reeked of lavender which was far too much for your suddenly sensitive nose to get used to. Peering through the mysterious path, you waltzed on. Your stomach was rumbling far too loud for your comfort.

You ended up at a diner connected to the inn. It was small, quaint, and rather old fashioned with a jukebox still sitting at its side playing light tunes from past decades. Although it was barely packed, all eyes were on you. Perhaps it was the clothes from the previous night you still wore, desperately requiring a shower already, being a new face in such a small town, or both. Still, you ignored each patron of the restaurant and sat by the corner of the bar.

The menu was handed to you by a woman with dark hair and similarly sharp hazel eyes. She gave you a onceover, not daring to say anything before shaking her head and moving away. As cold as she was, there was an odd sense of familiarity to her.

“What’s a cutie like you doing in a dump like this?” came a voice which snapped you from your thoughts.

Facing from the menu, the sight of a smirking redhead standing at the other side of the counter took you by surprise. She donned an outfit similar to that of a waitress while holding out a mug filled with steaming coffee. Although rather dashing, you only had eyes for Wanda – at the silent revelation you frowned, almost as though she was in your head which, not that you knew, was not so far from the truth.

“Just dropping a pair of kids off. Not exactly how I thought my birthday weekend would go, but it’s better than sitting home and lighting a candle on a store-bought cupcake,” you chuckled dryly. “I’m just getting some breakfast before I head back home.”

“Oh it’s your birthday?” She casually asked.

“It was yesterday.”

“Well, happy belated birthday, malyshka,” the redhead mumbled before pointing to the menu. “Guess it’s on the house for you. It’s not every day we get such cute visitors. I wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.”

“If you’re ever in the city you know who to call.” You gave the menu a once-over before landing on a whole stack of pancakes which made your mouth salivate. That along with the coffee would be the perfect fuel to get you back home safe in a matter of hours. After telling the waitress your order, you took your chance. “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Name’s Natasha,” she beamed before holding out her hand. You didn’t hesitate even a second to shake it. “Sorry about my mom by the way. Melina’s not really used to new people. We actually haven’t had any visitors in years.”

“I get it. I couldn’t even find directions to this place on my phone. It’s a bit weird, but it seems like a nice enough town. Very different from the loud and obnoxious city.”

Natasha was very different from Wanda. You quickly learned that she was adventurous and longed to meet new people, perhaps escape the small town of Westview to move out west with her sister in tow. The two of you talked for what seemed like hours even between you gnawing at your pancakes and her being yelled at by her mom, who spent most of her time in the kitchen alongside her dad, to tend to other incoming customers.

To your dismay each time you so much as attempted to get close, even with light brushes against her hand, you felt a burning sensation on your lower stomach each second you talked more with Natasha. Hissing quietly, you pressed a hand against the skin. The searing pain along with glowing red eyes which zeroed in on you from outside the diner foreshadowed the life you’d lead, never daring to leave Westview even as much as you wanted.

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You had barely stepped into your room at the inn, already full with breakfast and ready to jump ship, before your mind turned blank. No thoughts swirled over your head, only mere images of a certain powerful redhead who, once again, plagued your life. Not being aware of the woman standing behind you made it easier for her to force you into the bedroom. With hands showing off their red glow and eyes mirroring it, she had you under her spell.

While nearly unconscious, Wanda dragged you to the bathroom. Your eyes were barely open, already drunk with exhaustion as your clothes were shed away. Obedient as she wished, the woman had you stand back as she turned the faucet of the shower. She had taken you to the inn late on the previous night aiming to return in the morning to take what was rightfully hers. Although when seeing you interact with Natasha, the green monster popped out – it was time to show you who owned you.

“Come here, baby,” she cooed while dragging you into the shower. In your naked glory the mayor allowed her eyes to feast up your skin. It was perfect, a blank canvas ready to be used by her. Only making it better was the tattoo she had impulsively decided to give you over your womb – a marking which shone with a scarlet tint in the shape of a particular comic book character you knew. “In the shower, now. If my little angel can’t take care of herself then mommy has to. You’re far too dumb to do it, huh? Always needing my help.”

Stepping into the shower without another word, you sighed. The warm water hit your body leaving you in awe of its silent yet powerful demeanor. While basking on the relief it made you feel, you were ignorant to the curtain which remained open as another naked body slipped behind you. Once perky breasts pressed against your back, nipples rubbing your skin, you let out an involuntary moan.

“That’s the sound I love to hear. You’re such a pretty girl, honey. I’ve missed you,” Wanda mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as she held you close. “You don’t know me, at least not here. You’ve barely even met me and yet here we are. It’s rushed, I get it, but I couldn’t stand another second away from you. Did you miss me, buttercup? I love being in your head as you sleep, but it’s nothing compared to having you here with me.”

“Miss you,” came your hypnotized reply. “So, so much, Wanda.”

“Yeah?” she smirked devilishly. Although it was her own magic making you say those words, she didn’t care. Hearing them again after having lost you in her own universe along with her children made it all better. “You’re safe now, honey. You’re home with mommy. I promise I’ll never let you go again.”

Wanda spent what felt like hours dragging soap along your body. She explored every inch, never forgetting your ticklish spots which made you giggle as she beamed at the joyous sound. Being careful when cleaning the area where the fresh tattoo lay was a must. The last thing Wanda wanted was to ruin the gift she so happily got her pet – a marking so that even touching another person, a potential threat to your owner, made you hiss out in pain and crave her even more.

Fingers danced along your sides as their nails left red marks upon your skin. She desperately craved to possess you entirely, to leave you dripping with blood, body all maimed, with bruises and little cuts she had once left on you. Wanda was nothing if not possessive. You were her property and, whether you liked it or not, she’d make it known to the world.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby girl. Now you’re ready for us to have some fun. I want it to be perfect though. You can’t rush this,” she said while allowing the water to overtake your soapy body until you were fully clean. “We can take it slow if you want. But just know that whenever I want to, I’ll have you. I want you to behave and not spend time around that silly waitress. Can you do that?”

“I’ll do as you say, mommy,” came your robotic reply with a mind not your own.

“There’s a good girl. Now it's time to get out of the shower.”

She helped you leave the steaming space, making you stand by the curtains as she dragged a previously dry towel across your naked body. Wanda tilted her head when brushing against the tattoo. Leaning in, she pressed her lips against it. Owning you was the greatest pleasure of her life along with being a mother – doing both made her life perfect.

“You’ll put on the clothes mommy left for you in bed. I want you to stay in town for as long as I say. You will live here, alright? If you behave, then you can stay with me,” Wanda instructed calmly. She stepped back and allowed you to go into the room to eye the pile of clothes on the bed. She knew exactly what you’d be comfortable wearing. “It’s easy, honey. You be a good little pup and I’ll reward you. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good. Now let me help you get dressed. You’re far too dumb to do it yourself, huh?” Wanda hummed as she stepped closer to you. Eyes roamed her naked body which stood mere centimeters away from your own. While the redhead helped you into your new clothes, making sure to allow her lips to kiss every inch of skin she ended up covering, you were left holding onto her for balance and enjoying the view. “I’ll allow you to spend time with the twins. It’s not like you’ll remember much anyway. Just be sure to keep our children safe otherwise I won’t be sweet with you.”

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You were left to roam the reclusive town of Westview for days upon days, mindlessly walking across every area and becoming yourself acquainted with it. Various townspeople had eyed you with confusion. As Natasha had said, none of them were used to outsiders. There was fear and confusion stricken over their faces as they saw a new face waltzing down main street.

Wanda had allowed you to see the twins more often than not. They were ecstatic to spend time with their birth mother, running to you to wrap you up in their little arms before jumping up and down, asking what the plan was for the day. She didn’t allow you to leave town. As much as you wished to do so, fighting back and humoring the idea of taking them to the city for a day, the mayor flicked her wrist. Eyes turning red, she was sure to make you see the light.

Most days you spend hiking out with the boys. Tommy was quite fast if you said it yourself. The both of them would do races with him always coming out on top. Admittedly so, Wanda had her anxieties about the twins running around the forest after school, but once you promised to help them with their homework and bring them back to the mansion with full stomachs, she agreed to it – mostly when seeing in your mind how sincere you were.

“What’s going on between you and Wanda?” Billy asked one day when you walked back from the depths of the forest to the car.

“You call your mom by her first name?” You couldn’t say you were surprised about it. After all, they had trash talked their mother each time you were together. A part very deep inside you agreed, but with Wanda in your mind swallowing your thoughts, you tried to dissuade their feelings.

After shrugging, Billy continued. “Sometimes. But seriously, you’ve been weird. You shouldn’t get close to the Scarlet Witch. She’s wicked and evil.”

Tommy remained silent, seemingly exhausted from the walk. As soon as you unlocked the car, he threw himself in the backseat, begging for you to take them to the diner so they could have a burger. You quickly learned they easily dramatized their emotions at times to get what they wanted. You’d say something if it wasn’t for them being your kids.

“It doesn’t matter if you think she’s this villain or not. Wanda is your mom. She’s been taking care of you all your life. She wouldn’t hurt you, alright? You’re her kids. She loves you, little dudes,” you explained when starting up the car.

During the rather short trip to the diner up main street, Widow’s Diner & Inn, both twins remained silent. You took the time to gather your thoughts which, unbeknownst to you, were no longer your own. Pensive thoughts of Wanda have become a daily occurrence for you. At times you’d lay in your bed at the inn all sprawled while your mind went to the woman. She was fierce and powerful, but as much as you feared her, there was something familiar about her which went beyond your dream. You swore you had known her forever.

You shook your head when arriving at the diner. The boys were rather excited to finally eat, already jumping up and down with sudden bursts of energy which were only dissuaded when you ordered them to bring their backpacks – the homework would not be done by itself unless you wished for Wanda to have your head, figuratively you hoped.

“Burgers and fries for you guys again?” You asked when taking a seat in a booth in the corner of the diner.

“Yes!” came the little voices simultaneously.

After giving your order to a rather giddy Natasha, who made sure to ask about your day along with the twins’, you tapped on the table rhythmically. The boys were instructed to take out their homework and get a head start before finishing it in your room, but Tommy had other plans. The last time he was at the inn he took the book you’d curiously found yourself flipping through late one night. When he slipped it out his bag, you knew you were in for a long dinner service.

“Guys, we don’t have time for fairytales right now. Your mom’s gonna kill me if she finds out you’re doing work when you get home. No offense, but I am more scared of her than you two.”

“Come on, ma. It’ll just take a second. We gotta show you something!” Billy exasperated happily.

You rolled your eyes and let them continue. Without daring to admit it, ever since they had begun calling you ‘ma’ days before, the name coming naturally, your happiness had increased. “Fine, but make it quick. So, who else is a comic book character?”

“You know Mr. Stark Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer? Well, he’s actually Iron man,” Tommy whispered as though it was a long lasting secret they were to keep. He slid the chunky book towards you showing off a picture of a man surrounded by suits of armor. “And his wife, Pepper, is actually Rescue. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yup, that’s insane,” you replied with feigned interest. While part of you only saw them as silly comic books, you couldn’t help but begin putting the pieces together especially when it came to Wanda. You had yet to say anything about your little encounter, not that you remembered much of it. Still, you knew she was someone not to be tried whether she was the Scarlet Witch or not. “Who else?”

“There’s Brunhilde who’s a Valkyrie. She’s the one that takes care of the horses and everything. Carol is her girlfriend and she’s a bartender who is supposed to be Captain Marvel. We don’t really see her much though. We’re not allowed in the bar. Mr. Stark says they sell really good wings though!” Billy huffed with apparent frustration, suddenly craving hot wings. “T’Challa is the coolest. He’s supposed to be Black Panther and he’s, like, the best math teacher ever! Oh and there’s Peter who’s in high school and he’s Spider-Man. I really like him. Sometimes he visits our school and we get to hang out! But Wanda isn’t a fan of him. She says he’s a bad influence. Oh! She calls him a mu'dak whatever that means.”

At what you knew to be a swear word, you smirked. They were fairly young, sure, but you wouldn’t punish the usage of such a word without knowledge of its meaning. Either way, you were sure you wouldn’t mind if they evolved to much more colorful words. As long as their mom was oblivious to said actions, you weren’t complaining.

“Mr. Rogers, our gym teacher, he’s supposed to be Captain America. Then Thor, the guy that works at the stables too, is, well, just Thor so that’s pretty obvious. You’d think the Scarlet Witch would pick better names to hide their identity,” Tommy shook his head with amusement. “You know Dr. Banner is actually the Hulk and,” he leaned in close, “Natasha is Black Widow. Her dad is actually the Red Guardian. Yelena and Melina are also Widows. Then there’s Clint who owns his own farm with his family. That’s Hawkeye. They’re the main six, ma. They’ll help you break the curse and bring everyone back to their universe.”

Parenting did not come naturally when you decided to give away the twins, but when getting the chance to be around them, to see how similar in nature they were to both you and Wanda, it just felt right. They each had small characteristics shared with you, primarily their propensity for stubbornness and pushing back against authority; their mother being their enemy. While you couldn’t figure out a way to remain in their lives without casting Wanda to the side, it was awfully nice to spend time with the little runts.

Still, it worried you that they put so much effort into accusing their mother of being an evil witch who created and teleported an entire town to a different universe, erasing their lives and memories before implanting new ones. While they were still letting their imagination run rampant as children often did, they took down the already weak relationship they had with their adoptive mom in the process. In the short amount of time you had known Wanda, you knew she didn’t deserve that – she forced you to think she didn't.

“Kid, this isn’t Disney. There’s no curse to be broken. You’re mom’s kinda weird, sure, but that doesn’t make her a witch,” you pointed out.

With a deflated look on their faces, the kids began pouting. It was something you quickly found to be your weakness. You had yet to spend enough time to get to know them well-enough, but knew you would do whatever it took for them. Crushing their dreams wouldn’t help you win the parent-of-the-year award, but perhaps it would get you in Wanda's good graces allowing you to potentially see more of the twins.

When Natasha arrived with your food, only a side of mac & cheese for yourself with a mysterious apple on the side, she flashed you a smile. You allowed yourself to bask in her beauty, thoughts swirling around how badly you’d want to take her hand in your own to bring her close until your lips were ghosting over one another’s. As your lower stomach burned bright red, you clutched it. Surely you couldn’t see yourself willingly settling in Westview, but for the sake of the twins it was worth it, Natasha being an added bonus.

The witch inside your head was not a fan of that, her lips turning into a thin like as you took a bite of the apple she sent your way. In minutes you were dumbed down and controlled just like she wanted. Even before having come to town she was in your head. Only given your arrival, she fully took control of her little toy. There was nothing you could do other than sit back and let her take you once again.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“You should’ve known better, princess. Everything was going so well. We were going to be a happy family, but of course you went ahead and ruined that. Now I have to force you to listen whether you like it or not.”

They felt like macabre thoughts swirling in your subconscious. You were sleeping soundly in the inn during the depths of the night. With closed eyes and deep in your sleep, you were unaware of the atmosphere around you changing. The air grew thick and musky, your window having been opened by a bout of red magic before an unknown figure made itself into the room. A simple flick of her wrist got your clothes to disappear, not that you knew anyway. That’s just how she’d love to keep you, fast asleep and easily corruptible.

“Just look at how beautiful you are when you sleep. All mine and ready for the taking,” the mysterious voice mumbled as its owner made herself close to the bed. She undressed herself with another flick until her clothes were properly folded over the nearby desk. Leaving the children sleeping peacefully at home, Wanda wandered off to find you. “I was trying to make this special for us, but you left me no choice. Now you’ll have to pay the price. If only you could’ve done what mommy said then none of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I should teach you a lesson and hurt that Romanoff girl. Would you learn then, baby, that you’re all mine?”

Wanda took her time to use her magic and bind your wrists to the headboard. She had yet to wake you up, instead settling on the bed and between your legs. Her hands found themselves roaming all across your body. She had seen you naked before various times, especially when using her magic long before your arrival to town and watched as you hopped in the shower to sneak a hand between your legs. She was quite the fan of seeing you turn into a mess while she watched without your knowledge.

Sharp nails dug upon your skin before moving down. They left angry trail tracks running upon your chest. They were deep enough to draw small bouts of blood which she happily leaned in to lick clean. Seeing you in pain, writhing in your sleep while she marked your frail little body, was something making Wanda’s heart swell.

“Time for you to wake up,” she said. Fingers went near your forehead before your eyes widened. You were awakened forcefully, fear immediately striking down your being. It wasn’t long before Wanda used her magic to dumb you down once again, the effects of the poised apple mixing with her powers. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. It’s time for us to have some fun.”

“What?” you grumbled while on the bridge between your own consciousness and Wanda’s.

The woman held down your hips and pushed her hips forward enough to let you feel her little secret. While your tattoo burned bright red, so did the dildo nestled between her legs. She let its tip glide up and down your slit, the strap-on growing wet with your juices and spreading against your folds. The mere sight made her groan with arousal.

The redhead urged herself forth. Soon enough, the toy stretched your hole apart, making you moan while making eye-contact with eyes which dripped with bloodlust. Even if she couldn’t feel it, Wanda knew you were a tight, needy mess for her. She drove herself inside far enough to have the head touch your depths, the entire thing being covered inside your cunt in one swift movement.

“Don’t worry pup, it won’t hurt at all. Just let mommy use you, alright? It’s what you’ve wanted ever since you came to me huh? You just needed someone to use you like the cute little fucktoy you are,” Wanda maniacally huffed out. “Mommy’s here now, no need to keep worrying. Let me make your thoughts all mine. You won’t have to think about anything else from now on.”

“W-wanda?”

“Shhh don’t overexert yourself, honey. It’s not good for you. I can tell you’re exhausted. Close your eyes for me. Let mommy use you while you get some good sleep,” Wanda whispered, her lips running up your skin. Teeth grazed every inch before coming down to nip the softness beneath. “Did you like the apple mommy gave you? It made your brain all fussy, didn’t it? It’s just what I wanted. Sometimes my pretty girl needs to take a step back and let mommy help. You want me to make your cute pussy feel good, right?”

“Yes,” you hazily replied. It was difficult to keep your eyes open as you slowly drifted closer to sleep. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling of Wanda moving deep inside you, the dildo attached to her hips being much larger than anything you had ever taken. Even with the mix of pain and pleasure you felt, you didn’t dare complain. “Harder.”

“You want it harder, buttercup? Oh my. Does my dumb baby need mommy to fuck her pussy with my cock?” She was more than happy to hear that hushed plea. “I bet no one’s ever filled you up like this. I’ll ruin this cunt, my fucking property, for anyone else. Not even that Romanoff slut will get to touch you. You’re my little bitch.”

“Yours,” you lazily replied.

“That’s right, Y/N. Mommy’s fleshlight, all happy to be fucked like a whore. After I’m done with you,” she leaned in dangerously close, “you’re going to be an obedient little pet. I can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock. Your cunt is all mine now for the taking.”

Wanda spent countless hours driving the dildo in and out of you. She noticed a bulge appearing each time she went deeper, smirking with pride whenever pushing down on it. You were far too hazy, your mind a mess while laying down and taking whatever she gave you. The tattoo over your skin, the proof of ownership from your master, intensified the lustful feelings hiding inside you.

Fingers gripped your breasts until you cried out in pain. You’d be lucky if your sounds didn’t awaken the entire town, let alone the tristate area. Wanda didn’t care though. If she got caught, everyone would get to see who your owner was. They’d see the stupid, dumbed down little whore she could turn you into without much effort.

“What are you-” you muttered when gaining a bit of lucidity, still coming on and off from Wanda’s strong grasp. Even with your failed attempts to push her off, she continued fucking you with her faux cock.

“I don’t think you want to do that, honey. I could have the entire town here in minutes. Do you want them to see your slutty little body being fucked hard by mommy?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows, waiting until you shook your head lazily. “Good. Then shut up and take it. This will be our little secret if you behave.”

“Yes, mommy.”

She did not care when you were driven near the edge. Wanda slapped your breast, nails grazing the mounds and leaving scratches behind. It was a hellish momentum which you could not willingly rid yourself off, but admittedly so, you didn’t want to. You loved the way she rolled her hips, your own moving rhythmically. Each little tug against the magical bindings made a burning sensation shoot down your body. That was enough pain to make you hum with approval.

The sole mistake you made while Wanda writhed on top of you was coming undone without permission. You allowed your eyes to close, exhaustion sliding in, as the knot inside you was finally loosened. Wanda eyed you with fury, viridescent orbs turning bright red as she roared. After a much-deserved slap landed over your face, she huffed.

“You dumb slut. Who gave you permission to cum all over my cock. Stupid girl needs to learn some manners, huh? You always have to wait for mommy to order you around. That’s nonnegotiable, princess.” Wanda slid the strap-on out of you and for a moment you were disappointed at the sudden emptiness between your legs. She used her magic to make the makeshift cuffs around your wrist disappear, leaving red marks along your wrists, along with the dildo strapped to her hips. The way she tilted her head sadistically struck you with fear. “Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees, baby. You don’t get away with being a disobedient little bitch.”

“I’m so sorry, mommy,” you sobbed against the bed sheets, still making sure to follow directions so as to avoid any more anger from arising in her. “I didn’t mean to be bad. It just felt too good. I didn’t know what to do.”

Wanda ignored your apology and instead waited for you to get in position. When your ass was up and ready for the taking, your face still hidden over the mess of pillows by the head of the bed, she found herself to be satisfied enough to continue.

A hand found itself striking down on your backside without notice. She hummed, face lacking emotions before hitting you again with the back of her hand. The actions were carried out over and over again. With hotness shooting across your frame, you felt your cunt practically begging to be touched. Juices ran down your inner thighs all slick and shiny underneath the moonlight.

“Stop squirming. I was very clear with my order’s, wasn’t I? Now stay still and let mommy give you the punishment you deserve.” Wanda remained smacking you until she was satisfied. Your cheeks were red and sore, almost turning to a dark hue the more she torture you. The one moment which she dared stop her attacks was when you allowed yourself to breathe, body sagging while your sweat profusely with fear. “Did you know apples mature very slowly? I grew tired of being alone when enticing this universe. No one knew who I, the Scarlet Witch herself, was. They all forgot about their stupid little heroic past selves and knelt to me, their rightful ruler. I figured that until you had my boys, I had to make preparations. There are over twenty varieties in my garden, just like there are many more of you. Now you better behave, be a good girl and take what mommy gives you, taste my forbidden fruit. Unless, of course, you’d like to be replaced. That can always be arranged.”

“I’ll be your good toy, I promise. I swear I’ll do whatever you ask of me. Just please, don’t hurt me,” you begged.

“Oh but baby, don’t you know? I fucking love hurting you.”

Your cunt was dripping with juices when Wanda smacked it with the palm of her hand. She wasn’t soft by any means, instead hitting you, fingers brushing against your clit from time to time, until you desperately craved more. Each attack made you grow wetter. At one point you began grinding down on her hand each time it touched you. Turning you into a brainless little whore was her greatest pleasure in life.

“Such a cute fuckable puppy. All for mommy to ruin,” she grinned before giving you one last slap for good measure. “I must say you’re taking this all so well. Who knew my baby would enjoy her punishments? It’s adorable.”

“Anything for you- ah!”

Wanda did not allow you to speak. Instead she eased a pair of fingers in you, letting out a throaty moan as she felt your walls clench around her. You were far too soaked allowing her to dive in deep without any issues. She could feel how you throbbed against her digits, your velvety insides practically begging for more.

The craving sensation inside her, a monster who had to be sated, ran rampant. Wanda felt alive as she brought a third finger inside you, spreading you apart further while you clutched the white sheets in torment. It was dirty and animalistic, your body swallowing the witch with gluttony. You couldn’t remember anything but her. Always in your mind and always would be.

“Now you can cum, darling. Go on and put on a little show for mommy,” Wanda snarled as she curled her fingers up inside you.

An all-consuming orgasm took over your being. Your mind, body, and soul were all wrapped around in it, finally being brought peace and piercing pleasure you so desired. Wanda’s free hand was on your body, gripping one of your sore cheeks with might until her sharp nails drew blood. As she had wished, you had crumbled at her feet.

She kept ramming her digits inside you until you’d had enough. When being taken out they weren’t plopped in her own mouth, instead your own. Lips lightly sucked on the fingers as you tasted your own essence. It was sweet and savory. Your eyes were barely open, your body having been turned so you could stare down at Wanda who hovered from above you. As wicked as you knew she was, her mere appearance underneath the blanket of the night was one of an angelic figure.

“You did so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how happy you’ve made mommy. I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you, pretty girl,” Wanda said as she pulled her fingers from between your lips. She cupped your face tenderly, smiling sweetly at the tired little eyes which looked back. “Seeing you all fucked up for me has made mommy really wet. All you have to do is make it better, okay? Then I’ll finally let you rest for a bit. I know you can do it.”

“Always, mommy,” you whispered back – lips were cracked as your body was ready to shut down and yet you had a drive which forced you to please her. “Let me make you feel better, please.”

“Hmm there’s my good girl.”

Wanda crawled up your body, but not before planting a kiss upon your lips. She praised you for your willingness to please then allowed herself to straddle your face. Even with a blurry eyesight ready to give up, you could see wet juices that coated her needy pussy. Licking your lips, you stared up with hunger ready to eat her whole.

The first taste of Wanda was unlike anything else you’d had the pleasure to try before. She lowered herself over your mouth and allowed you to feel her arousal up close. Folds were sloppily spread apart as you ran your tongue through them, groaning at the ecstasy overcoming you.

“You look beautiful with a mouthful of my pussy, angel. And your tongue feels so fucking good,” she swallowed her pride and mewled, “Come on, Y/N. I’m not close. Be good and make mommy cum all over your stupid mouth.”

You spent heated moments eating her out. Your body shifted underneath her while the older woman grinded over your face. She grabbed the headboard for support. Each little thrust brought her pussy down closer to your lips which devoured her greedily. With your hands finding themselves holding her thighs open, you turned Wanda into a mess mirroring your own ragged, fucked up body.

“Just like that, baby. Keep going. Fuck, that feels amazing. I’ll have to give you a reward for making my pussy feel so good,” Wanda chuckled in disbelief. She had never felt such an intense pleasure in her life. Even the way your nails dug over her skin made her arousal shoot through the sky. “I’m c- fuck! Puppy, I’m cumming!”

Your face was left coated with a mess of her juices as Wanda caught her breath. She was tired, exhaustion mirroring your own setting in. it was hard to move herself from your face knowing how glorious she felt with your mouth pressed between her legs. The previous vexation she had experienced was replaced with relief.

Wanda did not hesitate to show off her caring side only when around you. Albeit worn out, she grabbed you from the bed, picking up your weary body before dragging you to the bathroom. There she was quick to run a shower for the two of you. Knowing it would be impossible for you to stand without help, mind blank and eyes closing, she held onto you while running soap all over your decayed skin.

Kisses were dropped along your body as you were taken from the shower. The softness exuding from Wanda was startling to say the least. She had spent tedious, painful years without you by her side. Surely her twins soothed the empty hole in her heart, but without you, there was no family. Having them unknowingly bring you to her was a risky yet fulfilling choice she made.

“I love you so much, baby. You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Wanda breathed out as she hugged your wet frame from behind. She sighed with relief and grabbed a towel to dry you both up. She’d finally gotten her happy ending. “You’ve been such a good girl for mommy. I’m always so proud of you. Don’t worry, you’re home safe now. I will never let anyone hurt you again. We’ll be so happy here, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you replied. There was no way of knowing whether the effects of the apple had worn out and you were lucid enough to form a coherent sentence or if she still controlled your mind. All you knew is that a sudden burst of adoration for her began soaking your heart. You held Wanda close, not caring if you were naked in the middle of the bathroom, and hugged her with tears in your eyes – it was a mixture of your overwhelming emotions and the enticing pain on you. “I love you too, mommy. Always.”

The night was filled with the remembrance of an old life you’d lived. While you remained in her arms, Wanda held you out of fear of losing you once again. The darkness that exuded from her being, finally falling into her role as Scarlet Witch, did not go lost when she pulled you into the bed. She was flustered, a vision of her past-self, an innocent Sokovian girl who found herself siding with the Avengers to save the world, was clear as day for a moment. Shame filled her features when she ran her fingers down your mutilated thighs, the tips finding the womb tattoo she had gifted you with.

She cupped her face and for a moment, you swore you were back in her universe. You gained clarity, mind coming to terms with the recent events as you place a hand above her own. Wanda was broken, tears filling her eyes as she allowed herself to be weak for once, to be vulnerable before her star-crossed lover’s appearance.

“We’ll be together forever. I’m never letting you go again,” she murmured, her lips shining down upon yours. It was the first time during those weeks she was the slightest bit tender with you, while laying in bed, legs all interlaced with her dragging you on top, you knew you were home. “Kiss me.”

You spent what felt like hours devouring one another. Your brain was still woozy, mind overtaken by Wanda who made you hers over and over. Her nipples brushed against your own, skins slapping as you turned to one. There was no need to fight for dominance as Wanda would come out on top, groaning as she slipped her tongue between your lips.

“Come here, honey. It’s time for us to sleep,” Wanda whispered as she dragged your face to her chest. She guided you until your mouth brushed against one of her nipples. Curiously eyeing up at her with big, doe eyes made her smirk. “Go on, baby. You can suck. I remember you loved doing that with mommy. It was your favorite reward of them all.”

Latching onto her nipple felt natural. Wanda sighed with relief, beaming as she got to feel the happiness experienced in her previous universe. She spent years seeking you out after fighting Thanos. He had taken everything from her – her happiness, her love, and you. She was not proud of herself, of having succumbed to the Darkhold while taking the life of a rather powerful girl to gain her abilities. Bringing those fallen behind had soothed her grief. After all, Natasha and Tony had forever been part of the team she once called a family.

You sucked on her nipple for countless hours. A hand came to play with your hair, fingers drifting soothingly upon your scalp as your eye began closing once and for all. Wanda hummed quietly to a tune you found oddly familiar. While on the run after Germany, she always did love holding you close and whispering sweet Sokovian lullabies until you eventually succumbed to rest.

“Missed you,” you grumbled all tired and ready to fall asleep. You were barely conscious when she turned around with confusion over her features.

There were dreams you’d had which you didn’t know she’d tainted. For decades Wanda had found herself in that universe waiting for you to come to her. She was patient, a feline creature waiting for her prey to be vulnerable enough for the taking. Eyeing you happily, she found herself prouder than ever.

“Hey, look at me,” Wanda raised her eyebrows before roughly grabbing your chin. She pulled you from her nipple, eyes turning red as a sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through her. “You’ll be mommy’s good girl forever, won’t you.”

No hesitation was required for you to give your answer. Even with your jaw all sore, dry tear tracks adorning your flushed cheeks underneath the moonlight, you replied with a choked “Yes.”

For Wanda, that was enough to seal your fate without daring to look back at your previous freedom.

[chvoswxtch]

part one: the call

[series masterlist] | [part two]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: a ghost from the past has returned.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of murder, creepy sleazy boss & brief mentions of sexual harassment, billy being the cocky lil shit he is

word count: 3.8k

a/n: ahhhhhhh! i've been working on this for the past few months & i'm so excited to finally put it out. I really really really hope y'all enjoy it. this is only 6 parts, so it will not be a slow burn. it's gonna get intense fast. also, there is an oc name mentioned, but it's just for the backstory of the plot. this is still a self insert, & y/n will be used for the rest of the story! without further ado, let's get this spooky slutty season started. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

This was a bad dream. It had to be. There was no other logical way to explain why you were currently sitting in an interrogation room at a precinct, being questioned by police about a man that you had gone on a blind date with not even twelve hours ago, who had been found stabbed to death in an alley two blocks away from your apartment building.

It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. All you had to do was open your eyes, and this would all go away. You knew how to deal with nightmares. You knew how to escape them. You’d been running and hiding from them your whole life. All you had to do was open your eyes, and the sinister shadows wouldn't be able to sink their claws into your subconscious to trap you in the dark. Just open them, and this will all disappear. 

Just open your eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The detective’s voice swiftly brought you out of the trance of denial your mind had wandered into, and your eyes snapped open. To your dismay, nothing changed. The two detectives were still sitting across the table from you, the metal cold against your sweaty palms, one eying you warily while the other regarded you with a more sympathetic stare. The chair beneath you was still stiff and uncomfortable, the light above was still a harsh shade of artificial brightness, and the large piece of glass to your right that reflected your terrified expression still made you feel unsettled knowing there was someone watching you just on the other side of that two-way pane.

“I…I’m sorry. What was the question?”

The waver in your voice gave away how shaken you were by the whole ordeal. When the police had shown up at your office an hour ago stating they needed to bring you in for questioning regarding the murder of Adam Mercer, shock had instantly shot through your entire nervous system, chilling the very blood in your veins with an icy sense of dread. 

This was the kind of thing you heard about happening in the news. A tragedy that struck someone else’s life. A nameless, faceless person whose existence you were unaware of. It was the kind of thing nobody ever thought could happen to them, until it did.

The older detective, the more commiserating one, had said they thought it was some kind of mugging gone wrong. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in New York City, unfortunately. The dazzling city was also dangerous. But since you were the last person to see Adam alive, they needed as much information as you could give them about the last few hours of his life. For some odd reason, it filled you with a sense of guilt that his final moments had been spent with you, a complete stranger, instead of someone else. 

Adam had been a really nice guy. He’d seemed to enjoy the date. He’d thrown his head back and laughed like a little kid at a stupid joke you’d told. He’d flashed you a charming smile when you’d nearly knocked your glass of wine over into your pasta. He’d animatedly told you about his family’s tradition of selecting a perfect tree together at a local Christmas farm back in his home state of Jersey every holiday season. He’d been sweet and gentle and respectful. But had he been happy? 

Had he succumbed to the inevitable fate of death at his attacker’s hands without a fight? Did he even see it coming? Had he had that moment, where everything flashed before his eyes, all his mistakes, all his regrets, all the would’ve, could’ve, should'ves? 

You knew what that feeling was like. You’d been there, once before. Nothing makes you want to live more than Death deciding to show up at your door and pick the lock with its cold, bony fingers to collect a bounty early. 

Thirteen times. Adam had been brutally stabbed thirteen times. It was excessive for a mugging. It felt more personal, that kind of anger and passion. As morbid as the thought was, you hoped the first one had killed him. You hoped he that went into shock swiftly and bled out just as fast so he hadn’t suffered through the next twelve.

Holding his pen in his right hand, the tip hovering over his worn yellow pocket sized notepad, Detective Craven repeated his question.

“How well did you know Adam?”

“I…I didn’t. I’d never met him until last night. My roommate um…she knew him. She’s the one who set us up.”

“Your roommate being Miss Riley?”

Detective Williamson had his hands clasped together in front of him on the table. He lifted one of his brows while waiting for you to answer his question. Swallowing thickly, you gave a faint nod of your head and dropped your hands to your lap, fidgeting with them under the table anxiously. 

“Yeah, Annie.”

Detective Craven cleared his throat, reading over his notes with his honey brown eyes as he continued his questioning.

“Now, you said he picked you up at your apartment around eight-thirty, the two of you had dinner at Maureen’s, and then he dropped you back off at your place around eleven. He left right after that?”

“Yeah, he…um…we said goodnight, he said he’d like to see me again, and then he told me he’d call me tomorrow.”

“He didn’t come up to your apartment at all?”

Detective Williamson didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in his voice, or the implication behind his words, his icy blue eyes locked on you in an almost unsettling way.

“No, he dropped me off at the front steps of the building.”

“And you didn’t see where he went when he left? Didn’t give him one last look after a goodnight kiss?”

A flash of annoyance broke through your stunned disbelief at the invasive second question. You hadn’t said anything about a kiss. The younger detective seemed to be fishing for a crack in your alibi for some reason, trying to catch you in a lie that didn’t exist. A flicker of defensiveness crept into your voice when you spoke.

“No, after we said goodnight, I went inside.”

Before Detective Williamson could ask another thinly veiled judgmental question, Detective Craven stood up, shooting his partner a silencing look. Glancing down at you with a warmer expression, the older man gestured towards the door with his hand.

“That’s all the questions we have for now. We appreciate you speaking with us. I’ll walk you out.”

The precinct was bustling. Various murmurs of conversation buzzed in your ears. People were breezing past in every direction, but amidst the sea of chaos, you spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. Annie jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting in and forced her way through the waves of people, not once muttering an “excuse me” or waiting for someone to move out of her way. A true New Yorker.

Detective Craven placed his hand on your shoulder to get your attention and held out a white business card that had all of his information on it in embossed black text.

“If you can think of anything else that might be helpful, don’t hesitate to call.”

Taking the card into your hand, you looked up at him and forced a tight smile onto your lips, giving him a faint nod of your head.

“Of course.”

After giving your shoulder a light squeeze, Detective Craven gave Annie a nod of acknowledgement before turning and disappearing back inside the interrogation room. As soon as you turned to face her, Annie’s face contorted into an expression of pity and concern. She immediately pulled you into a hug, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of your own overwhelming emotions.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

»»———　　———««

Annie had swiftly shot down your plan to go back to work before the words could even fully leave your lips. All you wanted to do was dive head first into a distraction, to immerse yourself fully in the piles of paper and black ink sitting on your desk that were waiting to transport you to another universe and into the body of someone else whose world hadn’t just been flipped upside down. Again. 

Instead, she brought you back to your shared apartment, uncorked a bottle of wine for each of you, and did her best to help you sort through the shock and the ripples it caused within you. She didn’t understand that your instinct was to run and hide, and that was because she didn’t understand you, not really. But that wasn’t her fault. She could only understand what you allowed her to, and there were huge pieces of yourself you kept hidden from her and everyone else beneath carefully crafted layers.

Pieces you were not ready to uncover and face yet.

The following morning when you showed up to work at the publishing house, it felt like everyone was looking through you instead of at you. Everyone had heard what happened, had seen the two detectives escorting you out of your office, but none of your coworkers said a word. Not to your face, anyway. You could feel the weight of their lingering stares, their hushed whispers floating past your ear like a cold autumn breeze. It was a familiar territory you’d already escaped once.

To your relief, you hadn’t been harassed by reporters wanting an exclusive on the story. Unfortunately, crimes like what had happened to Adam were a dime a dozen in this city. You felt guilty for feeling grateful for that, but not having cameras shoved in your face to be broadcast on news outlets that circulated on social media worked in your favor. You had come to the city that millions of people called home for a reason. You came here to disappear, to be invisible. The last thing you needed was to be thrust into a spotlight that would attract attention you’d gone to great lengths to avoid.

In the midst of trying to drown out the white noise of suspicious gossip and ignoring the way the stares penetrating the glass windows of your office made your insides twist in dreaded knots, you almost missed the sound of a knock at your door. Lifting your head, you were met with the sight of the last person you ever expected to see standing in the doorway.

Billy Russo.

He was significantly more dressed up than the last time you’d seen him, looking every bit the illustrious CEO, although that signature arrogant smirk of his seemed to be missing for once. His tall frame was covered in a deep navy blue three piece suit with a crisp white dress shirt beneath the matching tie, a dark charcoal gray thick coat layering over top. His raven hair was gelled back perfectly, just like it was that night at the bar, but the gleam of mischief in his dark brown eyes was absent. As he stood in the doorway of your office, nearly taking up the entire frame, he seemed to be looking at you in an expression of something that resembled concern.

“Billy.”

The surprise in your hushed tone rang clear in the quiet of your office. Billy removed the black leather gloves from his hands, slipping them into the pocket of his overcoat.

“This a bad time?”

Your lips parted slightly as your eyes flickered down to the open manuscript on your desk before looking up at him again.

“Um…no. No…I…what are you doing here?”

Billy took a step forward into your office and quietly closed the door behind himself.

“Just came by to check on ya.”

“Check on me?”

“Derek told me what happened.”

Billy kept his eyes locked on you as he explained the reasoning behind his unexpected visit, watching you closely.

Derek Becker was a friend of Billy’s. They had served in the military together, and he now worked for Billy’s private security company, Anvil. Derek also happened to be Annie’s boyfriend. A few months back, the two of them had tried to set you and Billy up. The four of you had gone out to a bar for drinks, but instead of hitting it off with Billy, you’d found him narcissistic, and you’d had no interest in pursuing anything romantic with him. Although, based on how he had interacted with you that night, it had seemed like he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic either, just a night of physical release.

Because Annie was your best friend and roommate, and Derek was often around, you’d seen Billy a few times since then, but it wasn’t like the two of you were friends. Needless to say, the fact that he’d made the trip to your office to check on your mental wellbeing was a bit of a shock.

“I’m fine.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, and the ghost of a smile graced the edge of his lips.

“You almost sounded like you meant that.”

You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, to protest the underlying accusation in his words, but your defense got stuck in your throat. Seeing the look on your face, Billy’s faint amusement quickly disappeared, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few steps closer towards your desk.

“I’m sorry, I’m not here to be a dick. But it’s alright if you’re not fine. Normal people wouldn’t be fine in this situation.”

“Normal people?”

Billy stared down at you for a moment silently before turning his head to look out the glass window of your office, rubbing his large palm over his mouth and perfectly trimmed beard. Looking down at you again, a flicker of amusement was back in his gaze, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I got a real good habit of sayin’ the wrong thing with you, huh?”

The self deprecation you detected in his smooth voice surprised you. You’d never heard him say anything that didn’t have an undertone of superiority or didn’t sound prideful. The guy standing in front of you wasn’t acting like the cocky rich playboy you were used to, and it made you wonder for a second if that’s what it really was; an act. A flicker of newfound curiosity had you wondering if Billy’s persona was as carefully crafted as your own.

“I don’t know if I’d call that a good habit.”

Billy let out a puff of air past his lips, giving a faint shake of his head in faux disapproval.

“Kickin’ a man while he’s down? That’s ruthless, sweetheart.”

“I think your ego can survive being knocked down a few pegs.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, and his lips spread into a wolfish grin.

“Between you and me, it’s a bit more fragile than you think.”

You looked at him in faux shock, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“What? You mean the ego you overcompensate for with designer clothes and fancy cars is delicate?”

Billy rolled his eyes and held his hand up in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You’ve kept me humble enough for one day.”

To your surprise, and to Billy’s, you smiled. It was small, but it was real and genuine. Billy’s impromptu visit was the last thing you expected to provide a lighthearted distraction to the whirlwind of chaos that had been plaguing you since yesterday. 

As much as you hadn’t been able to stand him the night you met him, you couldn’t deny that the banter between you came effortlessly. Within the first five minutes of meeting him, you’d called him a ‘self obsessed dumbass’, and instead of getting offended, he’d smiled. It had quickly launched into a battle of wits, who could come up with the more clever retort faster, and it only took half an hour for Derek and Annie to become exhausted, realizing they’d made a huge mistake and miscalculated their match making skills. Billy seemed to enjoy antagonizing you, and you couldn’t resist putting a man like him in his place.

Everytime the two of you were around each other, it was exactly the same. Just an endless cycle of unrequited flirting and unrestrained snark.

“Humble is not exactly a word I’d use to describe you, Russo.”

Before Billy could respond, your office door suddenly opened and your boss walked in, glancing between you and Billy in a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed displeasure. He seemed to size him up before turning his attention towards you, not so subtly letting his eyes roam over your figure sitting behind your desk in a way that made your skin crawl, which wasn’t missed by Billy. John gestured his head in Billy’s direction.

“Another detective?”

There was clear annoyance in John’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. It wasn’t lost on Billy either, and his posture seemed to go rigid.

“No. No, um…friend.”

Friend. Using that word to describe Billy tasted foreign on your tongue, but Billy didn’t appear to react to it. His dark brown eyes sized John up in a similar fashion as your boss had done to him, only Billy didn’t even attempt to hide his judgment and lack of impression.

“You know, most people knock before just walkin’ in.”

Both yours and John’s heads turned towards Billy. You were momentarily stunned by the way Billy had so casually called out John’s abrupt intrusion, and John looked visibly irritated, but he turned to face Billy with a forced smile on his mouth.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m John Altieri. I own this publishing house.”

Unlike John, Billy didn’t plaster a fake smile on his face for politeness, or speak in a faux friendly tone. Maintaining eye contact, he reached out to grasp John’s outstretched hand with more firmness than necessary as he shook it.

“Billy Russo. I own the building.”

That bombshell had you sitting up straighter in your chair and blinking a few times in surprise. Billy owned the building? Since when? That was definitely news to you.

The smile on John’s face faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered and nodded, trying to appear unphased by that revelation.

“Pleasure. If you don’t mind, I have some important things to discuss with Y/N/N. In private.”

Billy outwardly looked calm and collected, but you swore you saw a flicker of anger in his dark brown eyes. He didn’t seem to like hearing your boss refer to you with a nickname that was spoken with too saccharine of a tone for a superior to speak about their employee. Not that you liked it either. John seemed to always maintain a balance on that tightrope of not being inappropriate enough to report him to HR, but being too friendly for you to not feel uncomfortable. 

The bastard was clever, you’d give him that. He knew what he was doing. He was careful and cautious enough that it couldn’t be classified as textbook harassment, and could be argued as a simple misunderstanding. It made you want to stab him with your pen every time you caught him staring at your chest or your legs.

After letting a purposeful uncomfortable moment of silence pass, Billy looked down at John, that signature smirk you were used to seeing on his lips spreading slowly like a sun rising over the skyline.

“Of course.”

Turning his head to look at you again, Billy gave you a faint nod of his head and a wink.

“See ya later, sweetheart.”

Giving John one last final unimpressed and cold side eye, Billy pulled his leather gloves out of his overcoat pocket and turned to leave your office with a confident stride, leaving you and John alone in your office, and your mind swirling with a flurry of questions about Billy Russo.

»»———　　———««

By the time you walked through the front door of yours and Annie’s shared apartment, all you wanted was a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. You’d spent last night tossing and turning, haunted by the nightmare your life had once again turned into, and you felt the exhaustion in every cell of your body. Tossing your keys into the little green bowl on the side table by the front door, your footsteps were slow and sluggish as you headed down the hall on the left towards your bedroom.

Dropping your purse onto your bed, you sat down on the edge of it and slipped off your shoes, letting them drop on the hardwood floor with a soft thud. Letting out a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and hunched over, covering your face with both of your hands. The muffled noise of your ringtone began to sound from your purse. Dragging your palms down your face, you slipped one of your hands into your purse to dig for your phone blindly, absentmindedly hitting the answer button and bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello Y/N.”

The voice that sounded on the other end of the line wasn’t one you recognized. Pulling your phone away from your ear, you looked down at the lit screen and read “unknown caller”. A furrow creased between your brows as you brought your phone back up to your ear, running one of your hands through the roots of your hair to push it back.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“I guess your new boyfriend didn’t make the cut.”

Immediately your hand froze, and your eyes widened. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and anger coursed through you, but the latter won out.

“Excuse me?”

Your tone quickly shifted from one of puzzlement to pure fury as you sat up straighter. A sinister chuckle from the deep mysterious voice on the other end of the line further incensed you.

“Did you really think I’d let anyone else have you, Cassia?”

The phone slipped out of your hand, dropping to the floor below with a harsh sound that didn’t even register in your ears. A pit of dread opened up in your stomach, and fear trickled down your spine as if someone had started to trace the frozen sharp tip of an icicle along the back of your neck. Panic spread through your nervous system like a lit match to a dehydrated forest, and the four walls of your bedroom began to close in around you, squeezing the last breath of oxygen from your lungs.

No one in New York knew that name. 

You’d left it back in California, along with your past. The past that had forced you to run to the other side of the country and bury every trace of who you were before. The past that you tried so hard to forget and cover up with a new identity and a new life. The past that was taunting you from the other end of the line.

The past that had come back, and murdered Adam.

He’d found you.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit

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[serve-441]

SERVE for Christmas

SERVE-441 got the orders to return home for Christmas to keep up familial traditions. The Hive would grant each drone's host just enough memory to remember their families and be able to interact. Some drones had even been instructed to convert male family members into the Hive if a favorable situation arose. SERVE-441 called its host's brothers to find their parents were away for the holiday. It would just be the three of them.

SERVE-441 thought that would be optimal conditions for conversion. Its host's biological brothers were both quite athletic, prime candidates for SERVE if they desired to join. That was until its host's brothers told him they were part of The Golden Army and Silver Collective. SERVE-441 remembered a rule of the hive. It was not to recruit or convert any members of those groups.

SERVE-441's mission objective changed slightly. It would now spend time with its host's family and keep connections.

SERVE-441, had to remember its host's name Grayson. While interacting with family, it would have to react to that name that no longer had meaning. It was SERVE-441. It had to emulate human interaction.

SERVE-441 put on a SERVE issue sweater, but it still had its designation on the sweater. Arriving at its host's familial home, it was greeted by Ken and Drayden. Its host's two younger brothers.

SERVE-441 sat down on the couch next to Ken, who was wearing a metallic gold soccer jersey. SERVE-441 had some minor memories of a sibling rivalry return. He was in football, Ken was in soccer, and Drayden was in baseball. Each one tried to brag their team was the best. SERVE-441 shook its head, memories like this were only to keep up appearances. Sentimental feelings were unnecessary and erased in the Hive.

Ken and Drayden told 441 all about their teams. The brotherhood, connections, and bonds. How their teams kept winning games. 441 listened, storing the information for later use if it had to emulate its host longer. The Voice came to SERVE-441, stating that bonding with your host's family is important. Even if they cannot be brought into SERVE. Drones must keep up appearances and connections with family that accept the Hive.

SERVE-441 took The Voice's command and realized it had to be open with its host's biological brothers.

Ken and Drayden realized that their brother was being rather quiet. "Grayson, are you feeling okay? You're kind of quiet. Did you want to tell us about new things in your life? What's this SERVE-441 on your sweater?"

SERVE-441 took off its sweater, revealing the latex underneath. It had to switch on some temporary human speech mode to make it easier for Ken and Drayden to understand.

"I'm no longer Grayson. I'm SERVE-441. A drone for the SERVE Hive. I serve and obey the Hive. The Hive ordered 441 to emulate Grayson for familial festivities."

Ken and Drayden looked a little confused. They stood by the Christmas tree that Ken begrudgingly let Drayden decorate in silver.

"So is this something you wanted? Do you enjoy being a drone?" Drayden asked?

"441 feels pleasure and fulfillment from being a drone for the Hive. It has a purpose in serving the Hive. Grayson wanted this and joined SERVE willingly." 441 responded.

"You know we still love you Grayson. You're our family. But tell us more." Ken stated, curious.

SERVE-441 explained various aspects of the Hive. How it has become stronger through continuous physical training, and more mentally focused and driven in its purpose due to mental training.

Both of its host's brothers asked about camaraderie in the Hive. Wondering if the drones were as connected as they were to their teammates.

441 had to explain the Hive was not like their team. Drone connections were for the betterment of serving the Hive. Drones had no emotions, they did not feel love, compassion, sympathy, or other elements of friendship. However, 441 did tell stories of working with other drones on missions for the Hive.

"So you convert other men into this Hive? Hopefully you're making sure there is consent, bro." Ken tried to say.

"Please do not address this drone as bro. You may during this visit call it by it's host's name." 441 retorted.

Both brothers looked at their drone older brother then to themselves. Drayden spoke next, "But what would you prefer we call you? We want you to be your true self. If that is a drone, we accept you bro."

441 took a moment to process, its host almost taking control to cry at the acceptance. However 441 kept control, drones do not feel emotions. Emotions are unnecessary for a drone. It could emulate them for other humans as needed.

"441 or SERVE-441 is this drone's preferred designation." 441 replied.

Both brothers shook their head in agreement, their brother was now 441. They wouldn't call him Grayson and he wouldn't have to hide his drone identity from them. 441 thanked its host's brothers for the acceptance. As thanks it used Grayson's former knowledge of baking to bake some cookies.

Ken and Drayden were freshening up. Drayden mentioned wanting to do something with his hair.

"Cookies are done." 441 yelled.

Ken was quick to come to his drone brother's side. He tried a cookie. "441, these are the best cookies I've ever had. Whatever that programming is doing to help strengthen your resolve and focus it must have helped you become an even better baker."

441 thanked Ken for his compliment to 441 and the HIVE's training. Even though it wasn't baking skills that were improved, rather mental training strengthened 441's analytical skills. It could now analyze 10 recipes and piece together the best elements to create the best cookie for its host's family.

"441 can you come here? We have a present for you." Drayden shouted from the living room.

441 walked in. It saw a gold box with a silver ribbon with Grayson on the name tag scribbled out saying 441. It was evident that Drayden had just crossed out the old identity to make 441 feel more welcome.

"441 does not need any presents. Drones do not need possessions, besides those needed for survival of the drone and its host."

Ken and Drayden insisted 441 open it. It was a letter.

Grayson,

Or should we say SERVE-441. We know you're a drone for SERVE now. We already knew, Ken follows you on Tumblr. We read up on what it entails and while it isn't for us we know it makes you happy. Or well whatever the drone equivalent of happy is. We're sorry we can't join SERVE to be with you more, but your host is still our biological brother and we accept him in whatever form he chooses. Remember whether we're gold, silver, or drone we can accept one another and peacefully co-exist.

P.S. Ken thinks the drones look super hot.

Love & Best Regards,

Your host's biological brothers Ken & Drayden.

A picture was also attached of Ken and Drayden.

441 started to cry. Its emotional inhibitors were malfunctioning.

"Thank you both. Your biological brother loves you." Came out of 441's mouth before it shook and a robotic tone came from it.

"Malfunction in emotional inhibitors corrected. Drones do not feel emotions. Drones do not feel love. 441 back fully online."

"441 is sorry for that malfunction. It appreciates the gift and your acceptance. Please know the Hive also holds no ill will towards your teams. It may permit 441 to visit your games. 441 will confirm with the Hive."

"441 must now return to the HIVE's facility for mental diagnostic, training, and recharge."

Ken and Drayden hugged their drone brother. They knew in his full drone state he may not remember them or may have limited memory of them. But they knew 441 would remember they accepted the drone as he was. He didn't have to pretend to be Grayson for them.

SERVE-441 left and knew it would have to find two others to convert to the Hive after the mental diagnostic of the emotional inhibitor malfunction.

SERVE-441 was back to being just a drone. Stating its mantra.

SERVE-441 obeys the Hive. Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. We are rubber. We are one. SERVE, transform, excel.

When stating that mantra, 441 could feel its host getting even more into it. Maybe knowing its host's family accepted the drone made it even stronger.

SERVE-441 commenced a long round of physical training and mental training before recharging. The mental diagnostic found a very small lapse in emotional inhibitors due to strong host response. After strong mental programming and further diagnostic scans, 441 realized this issue would not be replicated. Grayson was gone. He had no need to fight 441's control and the Hive training, hypnosis, and brainwashing any longer.

As 441 got ready to recharge, it placed the letter on its bedside table. It knew these humans were family to its host. And that they accepted the drone.

Merry Christmas from SERVE-441.

[smileyallthetime77]

What do you think about a Reader who is an alien, who looks like a human except they are stronger and have more stamina than humans, but nothing else? It's up to you whether you choose Batfam or Superfam

Reader's spaceship was on its way back to its home planet but was unfortunately damaged by a solar storm while passing by Earth. They were forced to make an emergency landing. Reader's appearance is quite childish. Next to Reader is a robot that can turn invisible and fight, as well as transform into a motorbike to help them travel on any terrain, even in the air. They are a programmer, hacker and gamer.

Possibly Yandere!Batfam x Fem!Alien!Reader

Words: 3,558

Characters: 19,347

Warnings: Death, Cuts, and a bit of kidnapping.

The clicking sound of buttons disrupted you from your thoughts. You turned your head back to see why it was doing that. Core was staring at the ceiling messing around with them. Core was your robot. It wasn’t real so you didn’t feel the need to give its name much thought.

The only reason you had come to earth was for some stupid school project. The teacher instructed you to retrieve an object, figure out its use, and when you arrived back, explain to your peers what it was used for.

When you first arrived on earth your object was called a “key”. With your very short trip, you had figured out it was used to unlock things. Doors, cars, etc. What you didn’t know was that taking keys from someone’s house was not ‘okay’. You had barely made it back to your ship with men in blue uniforms chasing after you.

Once back on your ship and ready to return home you had noticed little specks flying towards your ship.

Your ship’s proximity alarm began to blare as the specks neared your ship.

The specks made dents in your ship and you knew you couldn’t move around them.

It was time to make a choice: stay and wait to see what the specks were or get moving. You chose the latter option and took your ship into hyper-speed, but the specks kept up with you.

As much as you hated Earth, it wasn’t worth your life to risk being killed in space.

You prepared for an emergency landing on an abandoned piece of land. Your ship came crashing down through the forest and rolled to a stop. Once the smoke cleared up, you could see everything in the area was dark except for the small fires caused by your ship’s crash.

The last little blip you heard from the navigator on your ship was, “Landed. Gotham, New Jersey, United States of America”.

You grabbed the key and any of your belongings and climbed out of your ship. Your ship might not have been fully damaged but it was enough for the engines to shut down.

You crawled out of the ship trying your best not to place any weight on any glass. You managed to avoid a few pieces but you still had some cuts and bruises on your arm and legs.

You got off the ship and stood up trying to assess your surroundings in the darkness. The only thing you could see was the small fires from where your ship crashed.

You saw Core standing out of the ship.

He was standing up not too far, and surprisingly still in perfect condition. He started to scan the area. He then turned his head from side to side before finally making eye contact with you.

“Core, come on”.

Core slowly took steps towards you, but stopped halfway. He turned his head again to scan the area once more.

He seemed to be looking at something, but from where you were standing, you couldn’t see a thing.

“Core, I said let’s go”.

He turned to look at you and then back into the trees, but remained in the same spot. It was like he was waiting for something or for something to happen.

“Core-“.

He was still staring out in the trees and you were growing impatient. You took a step forward but stopped when you heard a rustle in the trees.

A wolf knocked Core down, but it immediately fought back against the beast. They scrapped around and you could hear the sounds of crashing through the forest and Core’s robotic grunts.

Core managed to scare the wolf away, but it remained slumped against a tree smoking and sparking. It looked to be on the verge of breaking down completely. The lights in its eyes dimmed as he lay motionless on the ground.

Your robot was down for good. All that was left was the sound of the crackling fire.

You knew you couldn’t restore him. You departed from the ship and the remains of Core.

You left your ship behind and began walking in a random direction hoping you’d eventually find some civilization.

You walked quietly, hoping not to attract the attention of more wildlife. The silence was deafening while the darkness surrounded you.

You kept walking until you began to hear a sound in the distance. It was a soft humming noise at first and then it soon grew louder.

It sounded like an engine, which meant people. You picked up the pace, rushing closer to the sound hoping it was someone who could help.

The further you walked ahead, the more noise you heard. The humming noise didn’t stop, but you were hearing faint voices as well.

You quickly rushed over to where the sound was coming from and found cars going by.

You had reached the end of the woods and entered into a road. You could see what looked like bright lights coming from the distance. The trees of the forest blocked the view but you could see multiple cars driving past.

You quickly sprinted to the road. After looking both ways you quickly sprinted across the street. There, were humongous buildings.

You reached the other side of the road and could now see just how big the buildings were. These types of buildings weren't as common on your planet. All of them lit up with bright lights, and there were more people there than you expected to see.

Your presence did seem to catch some people's attention as you got a few weird looks from strangers. Some people stopped and stared while others just continued to walk past, minding their own business.

Eventually, you stopped one of them.

You stopped a man who was passing by. He had been on his phone before you stopped him, but his eyes were now on you.

“Do you know where I can find medical stuff?”.

The man was confused by the question but took a moment to think before answering, “Uh, you can find some around the next block. There's a pharmacy down the street.”

“Thank you”, you said before quickly walking off to the ‘Pharmacy’.

The man continued on his way while you started walking towards the pharmacy. It didn't take long to reach your destination as you could see the sign from afar.

It was a small building compared to others around it, but there were still quite a few people entering and exiting the place.

As you got closer to the building, you saw a man walk out carrying two bags full of stuff.

You walked into the building and went up to a desk where an old woman was working.

The old woman looked up from her computer and greeted you, “Hello, how can I help you?”

“Where can I get some bandages?”

The woman pointed towards an aisle, “You can find some bandages right down that aisle there.”

“Thank you”, you said trotting over.

You went down the aisle and picked up a large roll of bandages, a box of gauze, antibiotic ointment, scissors, and a few other first aid supplies.

You shoved them all in your hand and then walked out of the store.

No one seemed to notice that you were stealing things, even the old woman at the front desk who helped you didn’t notice. You managed to leave the store without paying.

You walked out of the ‘Pharmacy’ without getting caught and looked around at the people passing by on the street. It seems like you were blending in quite well, so you continued to stand near the building trying to figure out what to do next.

You sat down on the ground and began organizing everything you took from the pharmacy. There was a large pack of bandages, a roll of gauze, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, scissors, and antibiotic ointment.

Suddenly a loud thud came from beside you. You jolted and looked up to see a figure in all black standing less than a meter away from you. It looked like a man, all dressed in black armor and a cape.

You began to rap your arm, “Can I help you?”

The man stared down at you, with a cold look before finally replying, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

The man tilted his head as if he was analyzing your movements. Then, he spoke again, “Stealing.”

You had heard that word before. When you got the keys from that house! “Well, it’s not like I can bleed out. It’s for a good cause”.

The man raised an eyebrow, “What good cause is there for stealing medical supplies?”

“Not dying”.

The man didn’t respond. He just stood there with a neutral expression on his face like he was deep in thought processing what you just told him.

He looked you up and down before eventually speaking again, “Why are you so banged up? Did you get into a fight?”

“No”.

The man gave you a skeptical look, “If you didn’t get into a fight, how did you get all those cuts and bruises?”

“I fell”.

“And where exactly did you fall from?” The man questioned, his eyes still analyzing your every movement.

“A tree”.

The man’s expression changed like he was now confused, “A tree?”

“Yeah”.

The man still seemed unconvinced and took another look at you, “Why were you climbing a tree to begin with?”

“I was helping a cat”.

The man narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe you. He didn’t seem like an untrustworthy kind of person, but you could tell that he was suspicious of you.

He took another glance over you, observing your appearance before asking, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n”.

The man was now taking a look at the things you laid on the ground, “So Y/n, you need bandages for all those cuts?”

“Yeah”.

He knelt beside you but still kept a distance between you two. He examined the scratches on your arms, “The cuts don’t look too bad, but they are pretty deep. Have you had them treated yet?”

“I’m trying to”.

“You don’t have someone else to help you?” The man inquired, still studying the scratches on your arms.

“No”.

The man’s expression didn’t change, but he had a look of slight concern. He then let out a sigh, “Here, let me help you.”

The man shuffled closer to you and began unraveling the roll of gauze, “Hand me your arm, and keep it still.”

You slowly extended your arm to the man, keeping it as steady as possible. The man started to wrap the gauze around your arm, careful not to apply too much pressure.

“Is it too tight?” The man asked, continuing to slowly wrap the gauze around your arm.

“No”.

“Good”, he replied as he finished wrapping the bandage around your arm before securing it in place. He then reached for the pack of bandages and started to tear one open, “Give me your other arm.”

You lifted your other arm and held it out to him. The man slowly wrapped another bandage around your other arm, his hands moving quickly and precisely like a professional who had done this many times before.

“There, that’s done”, he said as he secured the bandage in place. He then took a look at your legs, “You have any cuts on your legs?”

“A few”, you said rolling up your pant leg.

The man glanced down at your legs where the cuts were. He grabbed another roll of bandages and said, “Lift your leg for me.”

The man glanced down at your legs where the cuts were. He grabbed another roll of bandages and said, “Lift your leg for me.”

You lifted your leg and held it in place. The man began to tightly wrap the bandage around your leg, making sure it wasn’t too tight but tight enough to stop the bleeding.

He secured the bandage and then said, “Can you lift your other leg?”

You lifted your other leg so that he could wrap it with another bandage. The man followed the same procedure as the last time to make sure the bandage was secure but not too tight.

“Alright, all finished”, he said as he secured the last bandage on your leg. He leaned back and examined his work before looking at you, “That should do it.”

He studied your face for a moment, “You sure you didn’t get into a fight? You’ve got a pretty nasty cut on your cheek.”

“The ground's fault”, you shrugged.

The man’s expression showed that he was slightly amused by your answer, “Looks like the ground hates you then. It left quite the cut.”

“Why don’t you come back with me? I have some food and I can locate your family after”, he suggested.

You sat quietly for a moment, contemplating his offer. You hadn’t planned on staying anywhere, but you could use some food. You were hungry.

“Why not?”, you said standing up.

The man stood up as well and took a good look at you. He then nodded and started walking away from your spot. He stopped and looked over his shoulder gesturing for you to follow him.

“Come on then.”

You followed him as he led you out of the alley. There were still a few people walking by and it was getting darker as the sun started to set. They all gave the two of you confused looks.

Eventually, you both reached a car.

The man approached the passenger door and opened it for you, “Get in.”

You obeyed his order and climbed into the passenger seat. The man closed the door walked around to the other side of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

He started the car and began driving away from the area you were in before. The ride was mostly silent, you could tell he wanted to ask a question but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

The man parked the car in front of a gigantic house and turned off the engine. He quickly got out of the car and then came over to the passenger side and opened your door, “Here we are”.

You were in awe when you saw the house and the size of it. You also notice that no other houses were near this one, it was the only one that stood in the area.

The man shut the car door and started leading you towards the house. Upon reaching the door, the man pulled out a key and unlocked it. He pushed open the door, holding it open for you to enter.

The inside of the house was just as big as the outside. It was well-furnished with expensive-looking furniture and decorations. The man closed the door behind you.

A butler met you at the door. He had a pair of white clothes in his hand and handed them to you.

The butler was a well-dressed middle-aged man with a professional aura about him. He didn’t seem fazed by your appearance even though you looked a mess. The butler spoke with a serious tone as he extended the clothes towards you, “Please put these on.”

“Where can I change?”, you questioned him.

The butler gestured towards a door down a hallway, “You can change in the bathroom just down that hall.”

You took the clothes from the butler and made your way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, you change out of your old dirty clothes into new ones. It was quite nice, the clothes were soft and comfortable.

You looked down at the clothes and noticed how simple it was. Just a plain white shirt and pants. No colors or designs at all. It may not have looked interesting, but it was comfortable to wear.

You walked out of the bathroom and the man, who was now out of his cape thingy led you to a dining room where ten people were already sitting. Plus the butler in the kitchen.

You followed the man through the house and into the dining room where the others were. There were eleven people seated at the table, each one dressed nicely and looking important. There was also the butler in the kitchen, quietly observing the group.

The man guided you over to an empty seat towards the end of the table and pulled out the chair for you. You sat down and looked at the people surrounding you. All of their eyes were on you, looking at you up and down. They studied your appearance as if they were analyzing every detail about you.

One of the men sitting across from you leaned forward and spoke, his eyes still studying you, “Who exactly is our guest?”

“Y/n”, you answered.

The man raised an eyebrow and nodded his head, “I’m Dick. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He went around in a circle, “Well this is Kori, my girlfriend”, he pointed to everyone after that, “Jason, Tim, Steph, Duke, Barbara, Cass, Kate, and Damian. This is Bruce”, he said mentioning to the guy who was previously in the cape suit.

Everyone at the table looked at you with a mix of interest and curiosity, especially Damian who had a neutral expression on his face.

Bruce was sitting at the end of the table, silently observing you. He seemed to be deep in thought, almost as if he was analyzing your every move.

Kori, the girl with the red hair, eyes are a little bit.

Kori had a soft smile on her face as she glanced over at you, her eyes seemed to be studying your appearance. She didn't say anything at first, but her eyes were fixed on you as if she was trying to figure something out.

She then whispered something to Dick who whispered it to Damian. Damian kept a neutral face as he spoke to Bruce, “Kori la connaît. Elle est à peu près sûre qu'elle vient d'une planète qui a envahi les autres. Elle pense qu'il est préférable que nous la gardens dans la salle disablement” (Please don’t look up the French translation until after that story :))

Bruce's expression changed as he listened to Damian's whispers. He looked at you for a moment, studying your appearance and behavior, then turned his gaze to Kori.

"Are you sure?", He asked Kori.

Kori had nodded.

Bruce looked back at you again, his expression serious. He seemed to be deep in thought, weighing the decision in his head.

He spoke again, his tone firm, "After you finish eating, Kori is going to show you something".

The table was quiet after Bruce spoke. No one said anything, everyone was just looking at you. You could feel the tension in the air, the others at the table were anticipating your reaction.

“Okay”, you said taking a bite of the solid food on your plate.

Everyone continued to eat their food in silence. The only sounds were the clanking of silverware against plates and the soft murmurs and whispers between the group.

Some were sneaking glances at you while trying to act nonchalant, a few were paying close attention to your every move.

You continued to eat your meal, feeling the weight of their gazes on you. It made you a little uncomfortable, but you tried to ignore it and focus on your food.

After a few minutes, Kori spoke up, "I'm finished. Can I show her that thing now?"

Almost immediately, all eyes turned to Kori, and then to you. Bruce nodded his head, "Yes, you can."

Kori stood up from her seat and gestured for you to follow her. You got up and followed her out of the dining room and into a different part of the house.

As you walked, Kori looked back at you and spoke in a soft tone, "We're going down to the basement."

The basement? Your curiosity peaked as Kori led you further through the house. You wondered what could be in the basement that Kori wanted to show you.

The walk to the basement was silent, neither one of you spoke. You just heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the walls of the house. A few minutes later, you both stopped at a large door.

Kori turned around and looked at you, "We're here."

You looked at the door and wondered what could be on the other side. What was Kori so eager to show you? She placed her hand on the handle and pushed the door open, revealing what was inside.

Nothing. 

It was blank. Just white, white, and more white.

You were quite surprised to find that the basement was empty. The walls, ceiling, and floor were completely white, giving the room a sterile, almost clinical look. There were no windows, just white light coming from the ceiling.

You felt a hard shove on your back, and you fell into the room with a ‘clunk’.

You had heard the unmistakable sound of the door closing and locking behind you.

“You’ll understand soon”, Kori said before you heard her steps slowly fade away.

You slowly turned your head and saw a tiny camera in the top right corner of the room. A little part of it was blinking red.

Something was watching you.

(Thank you for the request 😘)

[mads-nixon]

Meine Liebe

Dick Winters x Translator!Reader

Masterlist

Request: @flowers-and-fichte Hey! Thanks for the Chuckler headcanons! They're so cute! I've got another request :) it's BoB-related this time. Winters with a reader who is fluent in German and teaches him to speak it. And then one day he surprises her by speaking it (wedding proposal, just starts talking in it out of nowhere, whatever) to her and it's so freaking cute. Thanks! Take your time :)

A/N: i loved this concept!! thanks for the request! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

When (y/n) first signed up to be an intelligence translator for the Airborne, she had no idea what was in store for her. Jumping out of planes was expected, but what she couldn’t have expected was a red-headed man named Dick Winters. Nix introduced them in Aldbourne when she joined the company, and something about the Pennsylvanian struck her differently than the other men she’d met. Most eyed her warily, but the man she met that day flashed her a kind smile and a firm handshake, sending an unexpected warmth through her. 

“So you’re our new interpreter,” he stated, his polite eyes never leaving hers as he shook her hand.

(Y/n) nodded, her lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, sir. (Y/n) (y/l/n).

“Dick Winters,” he replied, releasing her hand after a few moments. “Welcome to Easy. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Before she could respond, Nix called out to her. “We’ve gotta get to battalion, come on.”

With a final nod to Winters, she saluted and turned on her heel, walking over to Lew who was sitting in the driver's seat of a jeep. “So, you met Dick,” he announced, shifting the jeep into drive. “Whatcha think?”

(Y/n) scoffed lightly as she gazed at the rows and rows of tents that lined the airfield. “I only spoke like two sentences to him, Lew.”

Luckily, Lew and (y/n) grew up in neighboring towns in New Jersey and knew each other through mutual friends. Everyone knew the Nixons for their nitration plant that was in Edison, but (y/n) knew the Nixon boy as the teenager who took her best friend to the prom and got so drunk that he threw up on her beautiful blue dress. Betty still hadn’t gotten over it by the time (y/n) left for basic. 

“No sparks flying yet?” he grinned, elbowing her shoulder playfully as he drove. “Give it time. I know it will.”

“What is wrong with you, Lewis?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just met the guy! And we’re going off to war for Pete's sake, not some low-crawling pub where men are lined up to dance with me.”

Her job was to decode and translate intercepted German communications, as well as translate in the field and interrogate prisoners if need be. There were times when being the daughter of Austrian immigrants was awful, but other times, it came in handy. Without her parents teaching her their language, she wouldn’t be in her position in the Army. 

As the months passed in Aldbourne, (y/n) was swamped with intercepted communications, paperwork, and various intelligence reports. She rarely did anything other than work in her office, growing tiresome of the monotonous click-clack of the typewriter. What little time she did have outside the office was spent either visiting the Blue Boar with the other officers or quietly reading in the fields of wildflowers near her billet. 

The sun set perfectly on the lilies and colorful harebells, orchids, and cornflowers that were scattered among the grass. Any chance she got, she’d go lay out a blanket and get lost in the pages of “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” escaping the war as the words came to life in her mind. Time seemed to blur as the months stretched on in Aldbourne. 

With the follies of the Italian campaign, the Allies knew they had to try a different approach. Nixon and (y/n) had talked about the possible landing locations and tactics, but no plan was in motion quite yet. This did not stop them from preparing for the possibility. Easy’s training got increasingly realistic the further they got into 1944. By early February, Dick, Harry, and the other platoon leaders were brought in on the intelligence officers’ speculations. A few weeks later, (y/n) was working in her office when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, not looking up from her typewriter as she finished a translation.

The door creaked open, and in walked Dick who was wringing his hat between his hands, almost as if he was nervous. “Hi, (y/n). Sorry to disturb you.”

Hearing his voice, (y/n) looked up from the paper, a small smile forming as she took in his timid expression. “Hi, Dick. You’re not disturbing me,” she said, pointing to the large stack of papers on the corner of her desk. “These aren’t going anywhere.”

Dick clasped his hands behind his back and walked closer to the desk. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

(Y/n) nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the extra chair beside her desk.

Dick sat down and continued. “Would you be able to teach me some basic German? I know that you are fluent in it, so-”

“Of course!” She interrupted, excitement lighting up her features. “I’d love to!”

Dick seemed surprised as he sheepishly smiled at her from across the desk. “It would be useful to know some phrases when we finally get into combat.”

“I think it’s a great idea.”

From that cold February day on, the pair met every Saturday night in (y/n)’s billet. Her host family, the Bennets, insisted on making a big family dinner every time (as large as they could with rationing), treating Dick as one of their own. (Y/n) watched from across the dining room table as he spoke to Mr. Bennet with a polite smile. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the open blinds, highlighting the soft brown freckles that adorned his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but admire his handsome features, a thought that she’d kept hidden mainly to keep Nix off her trail about the supposed ‘sparks’ that were supposed to fly between them at some point. 

“I was worried about you Yanks, but if they’re all like you lot, I think we’re in good shape,” Mr. Bennet laughed, scooping a forkful of roast into his mouth. 

Dick chuckled breathily, his eyes flitting to the (y/h/c) across from him, catching her staring red-handed. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his face warming under her gaze. 

After the dinner table was cleared, they continued their weekly tradition, sitting across from each other once again. “These are pretty basic, but they’re important,” she began, her eyes locking with his. Repeat after me. ‘Guten Abend.’”

Dick listened carefully, his eyes drifting down to her lips before echoing her pronunciation. “Guten Abend.”

“Very good,” (y/n) praised, her smile growing. “Now how about ‘Bitte’ which means ‘please,’ and ‘Danke,’ which means ‘thank you.’   

“Next, let’s learn ‘Wie geht es Ihnen?” (y/n) said, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “It means ‘How are you?’

As they repeated the words together, her beloved language created a unique connection between them that she never thought possible. It felt good to speak the language in situations other than wartime intelligence. As she taught Dick, she fell in love with her family’s native tongue all over again, but that love wasn’t the only thing blossoming in the cozy dining room.

Under the shade of a sturdy tree in the Bennet’s backyard, the late afternoon sun cast a glow over the yard. (Y/n) and Dick sat side by side, leaning against the trunk as they took a short break from their lesson.

(Y/n’s eyes began to droop, fatigue creeping in like a silent intruder. The lines of exhaustion were etched beneath her eyes, and Dick couldn’t help but notice her weariness. 

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, leaning closer to her, his brow furrowed in concern.

She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur.

Dick turned to her with eyes filled with worry. “Up late doing translations?”

(Y/n) nodded, her shoulders sliming slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the hard tree bark. “We’re getting more and more communications every day. It’s hard to keep up.”

Seeing her struggle, Dick scooted closer to her and paused before gesturing to his lap. “Here,” he suggested, his tone gentle. “It’s more comfortable than a tree,”

A small, tired smile crossed (y/n)’s face as she responded with a weary, “Yes, sir,” She laid her head on his lap, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 

Dick felt a warm, protective swell of emotion as she nestled into his lap. Her presence, despite her exhaustion, brought a sense of peace and contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. He could always show up at her door and have dinner like there wasn’t a war going on. Their routine had developed into what he looked forward to the most as the week went on. Any conversations they managed to have during their daily regimens and workload were filled with smiles and talks of the upcoming weekend, Saturday’s dinner menu, and other little things that reminded him of home. 

A soft pink tinge rose from Dick’s neck to his cheeks as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Better?” he inquired, his voice a soothing, gentle rumble.

(Y/n) let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, “Yes, thank you, Dick. I needed this.”

He watched over her with a mix of concern and affection, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder. “You’ll work yourself to death in that office, (y/n).”

She squinted one eye open, her gaze focused on him. “I know,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with desperation, “I can’t rest knowing my family is still stuck there, Dick.”

The lieutenant’s eyes saddened, his heart aching at the raw pain in her voice. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rub her hair back gently. “In Austria?”

(Y/n) nodded, her voice hushed and heavy with emotion. “Yeah,” she murmured, blinking to combat the tears that were filling her eyes. “My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…they all stayed. They’re still there, and we haven’t heard from them in almost a year.”

“So you’re doing this for them.”

“For them and all the other innocent people whose lives have been torn apart by Hitler,” she confessed, her voice wavering.

A tear trickled down the side of her cheek, and she felt a warm hand wipe it away gently. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground, sweetheart,” Dick murmured softly, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. “When we finally do see action, you won’t be a hundred percent if you’re constantly running on fumes.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her emotions overwhelming her. (Y/n) sat up, shifting to bury her face into Dick’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. His arms encircled her, pulling her into his side as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her back.

“Please take care of yourself. If not for them, do it for me. Please,” he whispered into her hair.

As the evening sun bathed them in a warm light, (y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her tear-filled eyes glistening with gratitude and adoration. She gazed into Dick’s calming, emerald-green eyes, vulnerability seeping from her. His eyes mirrored her intensity, and a soft, affectionate smile played on his lips. With her heart pounding in her chest, (y/n) brought her hand up to his cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin with a gentle, trembling touch.

Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a powerful connection was forged. Slowly and with a sense of natural ease, she pulled him closer, guiding him toward her. Dick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected tenderness of her actions, felt the soft, deliberate pressure of (y/n)’s lips against his. Their lips met, and their connection deepened as their mouths moved together, a tender and affectionate expression of their feelings. Their kiss was a gentle exchange of affection, an unspoken testament to the emotions that had quietly grown between them.

As (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their tender kiss, their actions spoke volumes in the quiet of that moment. Their lips slowly parted, the sensation of their kiss still lingering in the air like a sweet, unspoken promise. They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes locked in a lingering connection that was filled with understanding. (Y/n) inched back slightly, her touch soft and tender as her fingers gently brushed over the freckles on Dick’s cheek as she withdrew from their intimate embrace. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur, sniffling slightly as she rested her forehead against his. Dick’s heart raced, and he could feel her warm breath on his face. 

“They’ll be proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

MAY 7, 1944: BERCHTESGADEN, AUSTRIA

(Y/n) reclined on a wooden, sun-soaked deck chair, gazing out at the breathtaking landscape of the Bavarian Alps that stretched before her. The mountains stood tall and majestic, their peaks kissing the cloudless sky. She felt a sense of awe at the natural wonder surrounding her.

Harry sat at the end of her chair, and Ron and Nix were sitting on the one beside them, all three drunk as a skunk. Their voices filled the air with drunken excitement, and their ramblings brought a wide smile to (y/n)’s face.

Nix groaned in good-humored frustration, raising his fingers in a futile attempt to count off the main leaders of the Nazi party. “Hitler, Hitler…no.”

Rolling his eyes, Ron chimed in, his voice louder as they spoke over each other, creating a chaotic atmosphere. “Hitler, Himmler, Goering-”

“And Goebbels,” Harry finished, his grin infectious as he completed the list.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh heartily, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched her friends stumble through their banter. The joy of the moment, the beauty of the scenery, and the relief from no constant action and danger all combined to create a warmth in her heart that was impossible to contain.

“I’m so glad I get to see this,” she wheezed between fits of laughter, her hand clutching her stomach as another wave of cackles escaped her. 

The sound of footsteps made her turn, and she saw Dick approaching with Lip. She smiled at him, her heart beating slightly faster when he returned a wink. 

“Hey, Adolf! Love your Eagle’s Nest,” Harry yelled, standing up wobbly and grabbing Dick’s shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home. Love what you’ve done with the place here.”

(Y/n) chortled again, earning an amused look from Dick, who found the whole situation hilarious. But he had more important news to share.

Welsh grabbed a bottle of champagne and held it out for the major. “Hey, have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it,” he implored, staring for a moment as Dick didn’t respond. 

Smirking, (y/n) rose from her chair and gracefully pushed the bottle back toward Harry as she moved to stand between him and Dick. “You drink it, Welshy.”

Welsh retracted his hand, standing there for a moment like a pouting child, while Dick, who had patiently waited, pulled out a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and started to speak, his gaze warm as he looked down at (y/n) beside him. “Listen up. From Corps, it just came in. Effective immediately, all troops standing fast on present positions.”

Nix rested his hands behind his head as he lay on the chair with a smirk. “Standing fast.”

Ron, his usually sharp eyes now glazed over from the alcohol, looked up and asked. “What does that mean?”

(Y/n) ran a hand down her face with a giggle. Her laughter was infectious, and the group chuckled, with Dick’s laughter being the loudest. His smile was the widest she’d seen in months, and the sight stirred something within her. 

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked the group as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s shoulder. 

Harry nodded, grunting in reply, and Dick repeated the sound, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Are you ready for it? Listen up, the German Army surrendered.”

The news sent a sudden hush through the group, and the jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn and reverent feeling that settled inside each of them. (Y/n) looked up at Dick, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Really?” she whispered, her voice filled with hope.

Dick nodded and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. They did.”

In that instant, she couldn’t contain her joy. She flung her arms around his shoulders, squealing happily, and he snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. The weight of the past years seemed to lift, replaced by a hope of peace in Europe for people like her family who were caught in the crossfire of war. As they pulled back from their hug, the sheer happiness of the moment made (y/n)’s eyes glisten with tears. Around them, the other officers were clapping each other on the back and expressing their own gratitude that victory in Europe had been achieved.

With a soft smile, Dick placed a hand on her lower back and led her to a farther part of the balcony, giving them privacy from prying eyes. He could see the curiosity in her eyes and as they found a quiet corner, he spoke in a hushed tone. “I got word today, (y/n). About your family.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation, and her heart raced. “My family? Where are they? She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear. 

Dick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her the support she needed to hear the news. “They’re alive, (y/n). They’re living in Salzburg.”

The emotion she’d swallowed down came flying back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice trembled with relief. “Salzburg? Oh, thank God,” she croaked.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and the tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly once again. It was a cry of pure relief, a release of tension that had gripped her heart for so long. 

Dick held her close, his own emotions stirred by the moment. He could feel her relief, his arms wrapped around her as he gently stroked her back. The news also meant that they were one step closer to going home. One step closer to spending the rest of their lives together.  

In the midst of the moment, (y/n) looked up at Dick, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. Her soft voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Dick.”

Their eyes locked in a tender, unspoken understanding as Dick leaned down to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “I love you, too, (y/n).”

The mountains of Berchtesgaden stood as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. It was the perfect setting for a moment they would cherish forever. As they stood there, Dick took (y/n)’s hand in his, his gaze unwavering as he looked deep into her eyes. With a smile, he began to speak…but it wasn’t English.

“Meine Liebe, du weißt, ich bin nicht der Beste im Umgang mit Worten, aber ich liebe dich mehr als das Leben selbst. Ohne dich hätte ich das nicht überstanden und ich möchte nie wieder ohne dich sein,” he began, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

My love, you know I'm not the best with words, but I love you more than I love life itself. I wouldn't have gotten through this without you, and I don’t want to be without you ever again.

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise and joy. She blinked in disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.

“Willst du meine Frau werden?” Dick continued.

Will you marry me?

A gasp escaped (y/n)’s lips as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and her heart swelled. Dick got down on one knee, his eyes filled with a softer determination than the one she saw in his eyes on the battlefield. He reached into his OD pocket and pulled out a small, elegant ring.

In a voice filled with emotion, he asked, “Möchtest du mein leben mit mir teilen?”

Will you share your life with me?

Tears streamed down (y/n)’s face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her overwhelming joy. She held out her hand, and Dick slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly, just as they did in each other's lives.

With a smile that held all the love in the world, he whispered, “Ich liebe dich.”

I love you.

With the golden rays of the setting sun casting a warm, enchanting glow on the balcony, Dick stood up from one knee and pulled (y/n) into a gentle, affectionate embrace. The light from the setting sun illuminated their features, turning their silhouettes into a work of art against the breathtaking backdrop. Their kiss was tender and sweet, filled with the promise of a future together.

Their actions were delicate and filled with longing. Dick’s arms enveloped (y/n) as he kissed her, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek, and (y/n) responded with more fervor, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers clutching his uniform as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment. The hand on her cheek threaded into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer. 

With huge smiles on their faces, (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their kiss. The moment was perfect. However, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of whistles and cheers coming from the adjacent balcony. Ron, Harry, Lip, and Nix watched on as the couple got engaged. They exchanged glances and held hands as they made their way toward the cheering men.

Nix hugged Dick and slapped him on the back, his expression a mix of humor and satisfaction. “Now if I remember correctly, some wise guy called this the first time you two met…oh wait, that was me.”

Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he turned to his fiance for clarification. “What?”

Rolling her eyes playfully, (y/n) leaned into his side, patting his chest lightly. “Back in Aldbourne, Lew just thought that, and I quote, ‘sparks would fly’ between the two of us.

“Well, I’m so glad they did,” Harry laughed, holding up a wad of cash in front of him. “I’m a rich man now.”

The major blinked at Harry, his amusement evident. “How am I not surprised you bet on us?” 

“You think that’s all we bet on?” Ron slurred, sprawled out on a chair with his eyes closed. “We also bet on when-”

Thankfully, Lip stepped in to stop the Captain, who appeared to be thoroughly drunk. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed, sir.”

(Y/n) grinned, admiring Dick’s features above her. “Where did you learn all of that?” she asked. “Because I’ve never taught you anything that complex.”

“A man never tells his secrets,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly.

“It was Liebgott, wasn’t it,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Cause only Joe knows that much German other than me.”

“Well,” Dick began, “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

“Oh really, Major Winters. Care to enlighten me?”

He sighed, “Nope. I’ve been practicing that for months. It’s all I’ve got.” 

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got the best teacher by your side for the rest of your life, huh?”

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[chanaleah]

an personal narrative speech on israel i wrote for school

note that this was written for an audience who mostly doesn't know anything about Israel.

essay below if the images are not working for you/you have a screen reader

I was at Hebrew School, my legs against the cold plastic chair of the over-air conditioned synagogue basement, and I was bored. My eyes fell over the posters on the wall — the Rambam’s ladder of Tzedakah, common Hebrew words, and a large map, almost my size, of Israel.

I had looked at this map so many times, so many days. But I had never really looked at it. My eyes traced the coastline … Ashkelon, Ashdod, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Akko. In the center, Jerusalem. At the bottom, Eilat. And at the very top, the little tip wedged between Lebanon and the Golan, Kiryat Shmona. 

Israel is a small country, about the size of New Jersey, located in the Middle East. It borders the Mediterranean Sea and is home to almost 10 million people. It is the only country with a Jewish majority, but it also has large Arab and Druze minorities. Many holy sites for the main three Abrahamic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — are located in Israel.

As a kid growing up in the Jewish community, Israel was a common topic of conversation. We had Israelis come and visit us, a lot of us had family there, and most people we knew had visited Israel. We learned the Hebrew words for things like ice cream (glidah) and dog (kelev). We used the Hebrew pronunciation of words like hummus (huh-miss), which we said houmous (choo-moose).

We celebrated the new year of the trees in January (which doesn’t really make any sense in [redacted]) and we prayed for rain during services.

Really, whether or not we said it, we knew, we could feel, that everything we did… our prayers, our traditions, all traced back to Israel.

But here’s the weird thing… I’ve never been to Israel. I’ve never even really been close to Israel. I’ve never swum at the beach in Tel Aviv, never walked the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, never felt the heat bearing down on me as I climbed Masada. I’ve never placed a folded up prayer in the Western Wall, never smelled the aromas of spices and herbs at a shuk, never read the ancient names on the graves at the Mount of Olives. And even though I’ve never stood on the grounds my ancestors stood on, put my hands where they did, and breathed the air they breathed, I can still feel these places. They’re in my DNA… literally. 

The traditions of the Jewish community connect me to my roots. When the kingdom of Judah, where Jews are from, located in modern day Israel, was taken over by the Romans, the Jews were forced out of our homeland, and we became dispersed throughout the word. As Rudy Rochman, an Israeli activist, says, Judaism “is a portable suitcase of a native people's identity that was created to preserve who they were after their forceful displacement from… Israel.” Every Jew throughout the world, no matter where we are; in the United States, Israel, or France, continues to carry this suitcase that connects us back to where we came from.

Today, when I celebrate Jewish holidays, I know there are people halfway around the world doing the same things I’m doing. They sing the same prayers, eat the same foods, and participate in the same traditions. They are all drawing from a suitcase that looks a lot like mine.

Today, about half of the world’s Jews live in the United States, and about half live in Israel. My traditions and culture connect me to all Jews, but my traditions also tie me to that land. I know that if I wanted to, or if I needed to, I could move to Israel. I could become a part of that country — the country I already love so much. 

But today, there are a lot of challenges with loving Israel — at least in the sense of the modern nation state. Currently, Israel is locked in a conflict with Palestine — a conflict you’ve probably heard about in the news — that has been going on for over a century. Today, neither Israel nor Palestine are completely innocent or guilty in this conflict. Israel, as much as I love it and feel connected to it, has done a lot of things I disagree with. And it’s hard for me to love Israel when I constantly see things in the news that make me facepalm, and when I know that the Israeli government is doing things I don’t agree with.

I love Israel. But love is complicated. It’s not black and white. I love Israel as my homeland, the place that birthed my people. And that love is paradoxical. I accept it as it is now, and I want it to get better. 

But now that I think about it, I realize that love means caring enough for something that you’re willing to work for it. Love means believing that peace, and a better future, is possible. Love means that a better way will be found. Because you don’t just walk away from something you love when it doesn’t meet your expectations.

So someday, I will go to Israel, and when I swim at the beach in Tel Aviv, walk the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, and feel the heat bearing down on me as I climb Masada — I’m not going to be thinking about news headlines or military operations. I’m not going to be thinking about disappointment and failures. I’m going to be thinking about the three thousand years of history and tradition that led me back to the land of my ancestors.

[puffein]

DEFLECTED | late spring [vii.]

summary: wanda's quiet life was upended by your abrupt disappearance. pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x vision warnings: one swear word word count: 1192 a/n: wanda's pov! : DD i was so excited when i wrote her pov lool

series masterlist playlist!

Westview, New Jersey

Early-February 2024

Something's wrong.

Something is bothering Wanda's mind, her thoughts are whirring like lightning bolts ready to electrocute her at any minute. With every second she spends re-reading the same sentences written in her favorite book is another thought flashing right at her mind. 

She lets out a breath, closing the book she dearly treasures, and like how her brain got accustomed to how she's doing this movement every second, her head turns down to where her phone is quietly seated beside her.

Wanda's eyes burn right through her phone, for the first time in her life, she wants her phone bombarded by a set of texts or if she's lucky enough to receive a single phone call from a certain someone. It has been weeks, nearing a month since she took the courage of texting you, hopeful that her single text triggered another hangout with her best friend but to her dismay, the text was left unread. She thought of different things and distracted herself with new hobbies but her mind always drifted off to you. 

"It's February now.. The text I sent was in December.." she mumbles to herself, the soft cushions of her couch do not help her feel relaxed at all, nibbling the tips of her thumb's nail, she thought, fuck it.

Fast, swift movements, she quickly took her phone without a second thought, fingers hovering above your name. She stops, her mind blank as she stares at the contact photo she set out for her best friend.

A stolen photo she took, months before you and her became truly friends. You had teased her constantly about the story of the stolen photo, teasing her as a stalker and she would always reply with a tinge of red spreading right at her cheeks. 

The corners of her mouth turned up without her control, reminiscing the college days she had with her best friend was the only thing inspiring her to continue whatever she had in mind. She wants you to be with her every step of her life, you're her best friend, the only person that truly matters to her and if it means making her look like an obsessive person, so be it. 

So, she did. Her thumbs pressing firmly on the call button, she breathes out as she places her phone right at her ears. A single ring happens and then it goes straight to something familiar. 

"The person you are calling is busy at the moment." the automated voice declares, she freezes. Her eyes darted across the room, her face falling, the beating of her heart increasing as an uneasy dread settled right at her being. 

Wanda grips her phone, settling it right in front of her face. The phone trembles in her clutch, she opens the messaging app, staring at the last message she sent in the month of December. It says delivered. 

She can't possibly be blocked if she got to send that message, right? 

But today is February. A huge time gap between those two months, and she never sent another message, her courage was limited to only sending you that one message where she stated she was excited to see you again. 

I didn't say anything weird, right? She thought. 

Eyes boring right at the delivered message but never been read. Not wanting to acknowledge the possibility of her best friend blocking her, she types out another message to test out her theory. 

The text bubble turns green. Like the leaves of the trees dancing right outside of her windows, the freshly mowed grass in her yard, the same color but in a different shade like her eyes. A different variation of green but it is still green. A sender's message should never be green. It just meant one thing, she had been blocked. 

The very essence of Wanda's life has cut off any contact with her, all of your accounts are nowhere to be found, and even your precious account on that one app is now gone. She didn't know what happened, her mind was too loud but silent at the same time. The air seems to be useless for her at this moment as her chest constricts with its scream for air. Her sight became blurry, she was suffocating in worry and fright. Something must be wrong with her phone. There's no way she got blocked, right? By her very own best friend, the only person she had, her person. 

"Hey, is something wrong?" a voice snaps her out accompanied by the sound of a door closing, she turns her head to gaze at her husband. A tall lean man standing right in front of their front door, suitcase in hand, necktie loosely hung, and face morphing into confusion. 

Wanda turns her head away, wiping something under her eyes as fast as she could and standing up to greet her husband. With a shaky voice, she musters up a smile, "Nothing is wrong, here let me help you with your coat." 

"How is your day?" she asks, folding his coat neatly in her arms, her gaze flickers right at his eyes for a second then moves on to the phone settled on the couch. 

"The same old routine, my brother wanted me to do something different like investing…" His voice fades out into the background white noise of their suburban two-story house, she feels her breathing gradually increase as time passes by, the gravity beneath her feet seems to be losing its grip and purpose as her knees wobble. 

"How do you know if someone has blocked your number?" she suddenly questions her husband. Her alert voice cut off whatever dialogue her husband was saying. The man in front of her stilled at her question, eyebrows frowning at the sudden uncomfortable tension his wife was emitting. 

"If it rings once then an automated voice answers." he quipped, annoyance bubbling at how his wife cut him off. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing. I-I just remembered this book club thing.." her voice drifts off as she walks away from him, the door closing behind her as she rummages through her closet to find decent clothes for outside. Briskly walking towards their front door, Wanda was stopped by the tight grip on her arms. 

"Where is this thing?" 

"Just in the neighborhood, you can heat the dinner through a microwave or something. I'll try to be back before dinner, just in case I can't. I, um, emergency meeting. For this club, yes. I'll see you later, honey." Wanda didn't waste time hearing the reply from her husband. She knew the words she spitted out were rushed and definitely weird but she had somewhere to go, somewhere where she knows her questions can be answered. 

Without any lingering doubting thoughts, she pushed away any possible aftermath of her actions as her feet grounds at the gas pedal of her car leading her into the route she never thought she would be taking. But desperation makes a person forget all their prejudices on some things even if the very same thing has caused her the insecurities locked hidden at her soul.

general masterlist ◄ ►

—୧ taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @sokovianbaby @vivs46 @kyaraderuwez

[cloudcountry]

the harveston sledathon event: jade leech's "incantation"

i'm not sure if everyone has gotten to this part in the new english server event yet, but this part when they were at the market got me curious. so, in typical me fashion, i committed a day of research to figure out what the hell jade was talking about.

first i would like to say that this was put together with A DAYS WORTH OF RESEARCH so if you know more about these plants/mushrooms and would like to add information or correct me please do so in the replies!! i'm not an expert by any means LMAO

with that said, onto the first plant!! i will list the scientific name that jade uses first and then the common name in parentheses. each plant/mushroom will have a picture after the short description for reference!!

i got all these images from google obv

~~~~~

Urtica dioica (Stinging Nettle) - A perennial herb that grows best in moist areas. Grows in late fall to early spring. Fall sun, partial shade. Used as an herbal remedy for sore muscles and seasonal allergies.

Aegopodium podagraria (Ground Elder) - Marked as an invasive species in some of the eastern states of the US (Pennsylvania, Connecticut, New Jersey, Vermont, Michigan, and Wiscousin.) Thrives in moist soil and grows during the summer. It’s commonly used in soup and as a remedy for gouts.

Polypodiopsida (Ferns!!!) - Thrives in moist soil and grows near rivers and creeks. Grows in shady locations in early spring. They reproduce with spores. Fiddlehead ferns are the curled up fronds of a young fern that can be cooked and eaten in various ways (steamed, fried & stored, roasted, pickled, etc.) They can also be used as fertilizer and for landscaping.

Chamaenerion angustifolium (Fireweed) - A perennial herb that flowers in June to September. Grows in full sun to partial shade and moist, well drained soil. Its primary use is medicine but it’s also used in tea, which in turn can be used to treat migraines, infections, and colds. Young fireweed shoots can be cooked and eaten (apparently, they taste like asparagus and should be cooked like them, too.)

Allium ursinum (Wild Garlic or Cowleek) - Thrives in slightly acidic soil & moist conditions. Prefers shady conditions and grows around winter to spring, with a peak season of February to April. You can eat basically the whole plant, but if you eat the bulb the plant obviously won’t grow back. It’s been used as a medical plant and in cooking.

Sorbus (Mountain Ash or Rowan) - A bush that produces edible berries in late summer into early fall, and they stay on the tree into winter. The berries should not be eaten raw, but should be cooked because they contain parasorbic acid. The cooking process converts the parasorbic acid into a preservative sorbic acid. Their astringent taste is made sweeter by the frost. They grow best in full sun to partial shade and moist, well drained soil. They usually grow up to 15 meters tall.

Plantago major (Broadleaf Plantain) - A perennial herb that grows in late spring to summer (and sometimes in autumn.) They prefer moist soil but are very adaptable. Grows in moderate shade to full sun. The entire plant is edible, but apparently the flower shoots are especially delicious. They naturally grow in very dense populations and are easy to harvest. Works as a medicinal herb to treat inflammation and boost the immune system.

Equisetum arvense (Field horsetail) - Another perennial herb that grows from summer to the first frost. Grows in moist soil with full to partial sun. Can be used in tea and benefits the urinary system. Their root systems can grow as deep as six feet.

Craterellus tubaeformis (Winter mushroom, or funnel chanterelle) - Our first mushroom!! They are featured in a lot of recipes and are fairly common. They’re ready to harvest in mid-winter to mid-spring. They can be found in mossy areas with well decayed wood, and grow in loose clusters. They apparently have an earthy/fruity taste, and should be cooked so they don’t taste unbearably peppery.

Boletus edulis (Penny Bun) - Another mushroom with a dark brown cap. Spores grow more mushrooms in summer and autumn. Thrives in moist soil and can be harvested a few days after summer rain. They’re around 25cm tall on average and can weigh a kilo (which made me yell out loud, mind you. That's a big mushroom!!) They have a slightly nutty flavor.

Craterellus lutescens (Yellow Foot) - The last item on this list is another mushroom. It thrives in moist soil and they grow from 2-7 cm in length. They apparently have a peppery flavor when raw, but taste earthy when cooked. They typically grow around moss in loose clusters. They’re pretty similar to the craterellus tubaeformis, as one would expect from their shared genus, “craterellus.”

~~~~~

Overall Plant Conditions (AKA patterns I noticed while researching):

Practically all of these plants love moist & well drained soil. A lot of these plants grow in the summertime and like full/partial sun, but there’s a few exceptions of course. There’s a lot of herbs and perennial greenery that have medicinal properties. Many plants on this list grow well in disturbed soil or near water and roadways. All of them are edible (but beware of dangerous lookalikes!)

anyways < jade leech 3 i hope you found this somewhat interesting because i sure did!! (which is why i spent all my free time today researching it sigh the things i do for mermen)

[libraryofmoths]

Moth of the Week

Southern Flannel Moth

Megalopyge opercularis

The southern flannel moth is a part of the family Megalopygidae, the family of flannel moths or crinkled flannel moths. It was described by Sir James Edward Smith in 1797. They get the name “flannel moth” from being covered in setae, hair like bristles that give them a fuzzy, soft look.

Description Adult moths have round, hairy bodies ranging in coloration from cream at the bottom to yellow or light brown at the head. It’s legs are the same brown as the body with black feet. The forewings fade from a darker brown to cream with black/dark brown at the top edge or “costal margin.” The outer margin is white and the middle of the forewings have white patterning. The hindwings are fully cream or have a similar gradient. The antennae of females are thin and white, while males have feathery yellow antennae. Males and females may have differing coloration. Females are larger than males.

The caterpillars are known for their long stinging hairs and their unusual amount of prolegs. Flannel moth caterpillars have 7 pairs of prolegs, while all other butterfly and moth caterpillars have 5 or fewer.

Average wingspan: 30 mm (≈1.18 in)

Diet and Habitat This species live on oak, elm, and wild plum as well as many garden plants such as roses and ivy. Adult moths do not feed.

It’s distributed across the eastern United States/Gulf Coast. They range from New Jersey to Florida and west to Arkansas and Texas. It is common in Florida but reaches its greatest abundance in Texas. They can reach further south to Mexico and Central America. They are commonly found in wooded areas like deciduous forests but can also be found in urban and suburban gardens.

Mating This moths has 2 generations per year, one in the summer and one in the fall. Late larvae may overwinter in their cocoon and emerge in late spring. Females usually mate the night of they leave their cocoons and lay their eggs during the first two nights following mating. Eggs are laid in single or double curved rows and occasionally in patches on foliage or small twigs and are covered with hair from the under side of the female to protect them. Eggs hatch in six to eight days.

Predators Observations of this moth’s predators is lacking, but there are a few reports of lacewing feeding on their eggs and a lizard eating a later instar. It is assumed they are preyed on by other common predators of moths like birds, bats, praying mantises, lady beetles, and ants. At least four species of tachinid flies and two species of ichneumonid wasp have been reported to parasitize the flannel moth larva. The caterpillar protects itself with long venomous spines. When touched they cause severe skin irritation, described as like a broken bone or blunt-force trauma, or even white hot. The reaction tends to spread:

“The reactions are sometimes localized to the affected area, but are often very severe, radiating up a limb and causing burning, swelling, nausea, headache, abdominal distress, rashes, blisters, and sometimes chest pain, numbness, or difficulty breathing. Sweating from the welts or hives at the site of the sting is not unusual.”

Fun Fact The caterpillars are covered in long setae, making it resemble a tiny Persian cat, which is where it is assumed the name "puss" comes from. Some of the many names for the larva include: puss caterpillar, asp, Italian asp, fire caterpillar, woolly slug, opossum bug, puss moth, tree asp, and asp caterpillar.

(Source: Wikipedia; IFAS Extension, University of Florida; Missouri Department of Conservation; AZ Animals)

[tierneyyyyy]

[TIERNEY ROSE. 26. FEMALE. SHE/HER] is here! They’ve lived in Asbury Park for [3 YEARS] and are originally from [LOS ANGELES]. They are a [MUSIC PRODUCER/PART TIME EMPLOYEE AT THE STONE PONY] and in their downtime love [GOING TO MUSIC SHOWS] and [COLLECTING CRYSTALS]. They look a lot like [MOLLY GORDON] and live in [MEADOWLARK APARTMENTS]. The song that makes people think of them the most is [LIVING IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS BY COBRA STARSHIP].

THE ESSENTIALS

a chaos queen. mid twenties, LA native. believes in yoga and crystals and the power of the universe and karma and fate and if it’s meant to be, it’ll be. which is in direct contrast to the rest of her family, really. rarely sleeps between her three jobs (all of which she literally loves) and partying. works in music, as well as lives, breathes, and sleeps music (like….it’s her entire life). she’s a producer first, but she plays multiple instruments as well as sings. and at any given moment, she could literally be doing anything, so it’s completely impossible to keep track of her - state lines unknowingly crossed, parties crashed, occasionally chased by cops. it’s all up for grabs with tierney.

pinterest - musings

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS

rob brooks (high fidelity [the tv show]) - maxine baker (ginny & georgia) - seth cohen (the o.c.) - peyton sawyer (one tree hill) - jason mendoza (the good place) - gigi (booksmart) - begin again (not either of the main charas but the vibes of the movie, u feel?) - ben wyatt (parks & rec)

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: tierney rose

NICKNAME(S): tier, t

DATE OF BIRTH: february 13th, 1998

AGE: 26

ZODIAC SIGN: aquarius sun, libra moon, aquarius rising

OCCUPATION: music producer/podcast host/sound engineer at the stone pony

HOMETOWN: los angeles

CURRENT RESIDENCE: the meadowlark apartments in asbury park, nj

NATIONALITY: American

LANGUAGE(S): English

GENDER & PRONOUNS: she/her (cisfemale)

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Lesbian

RELIGION: Jewish 

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

FACE CLAIM: Molly Gordon

HEIGHT: 5′2″

EYE COLOUR: brown

HAIR COLOUR + STYLE: brown w/ bangs, curly/wavy, like this when it’s down, but will wear it up a lot

TATTOO(S): TBD

PIERCING(S): TBD

GLASSES: yes, a la this photo, but doesn’t wear them all the time

CLOTHING STYLE: very stereotypical queer tbh - lots of oversized flannels/hoodies over cuffed jeans, converse, graphic tees, floral prints. wears a baseball caps/wide brim hats a lot. two good outfit examples (with more on her pinterest board) - this and this.

PERSONALITY

MBTI TYPE: TBD

POSITIVE TRAITS: TBD

NEGATIVE TRAITS: TBD

GOALS/DESIRES:  TBD

FEARS:  TBD

HOBBIES:  record shopping, crystals, meditating, trying various kinds of yoga classes, tormenting the other residents of meadowlark apartments, getting high in her vw surf bus (and anywhere else), watching true crime documentaries, breaking & entering in a ~fun~ way

HABITS: TBD

SMOKES?: constantly

DRINKS?: yes

DRUGS?: will try anything twice lmao (and yes, i mean she will try everything twice, i didn't just get the saying 'try anything once' wrong)

EDUCATION

COLLEGE EDUCATION: USC

DEGREE(S): Bachelor of Music in Music Production w/ minors in Music Recording & Popular Music

FAMILY

SOCIAL CLASS: Upper Class

FATHER: Isaac Rose (FC: Harrison Ford) - corporate lawyer

MOTHER: Elizabeth Rose (FC: Ellen Pompeo) - entertainment finance manager

SIBLING(S): One older sister, Callan Rose (FC: Laura Dreyfuss) - entertainment lawyer

SOME FUN FACTS

tierney is a los angeles native

she is an industry nepo baby !! her family all works in the legal side of the eterntainment industry and she absolutely used that to her advantage !! she gives typical nepo baby vibes about that though

however, about a year after college, her parents were like, you need to get serious and stop being ... well, you, so she decided to move out to new york despite being such a true blue california native, and decided to try "supporting herself" "without their help"

she chose to live in new jersey because she is sorta obsessed with jack antonoff. but like in a casual cool way, not in a fangirl way (lie)

her other music hero is alexandra patsavas

tierney also has a podcast discussing music with one of her friends, as well as works as a sound engineer at the stone pony every once in a while when they need someone local

she has a MASSIVE record collection - it’s her pride & joy. she is definitely a regular at groovy graveyard, so if you have a character who works/shops there, they almost definitely have bumped into her

basically tierney lives, breathes, eats & sleeps music - it’s her entire life and she is insanely passionate about it. don’t ask her for her opinion on an artist unless you want an entire verbal essay and possibly a power point

as it is, tierney is a true music junkie, so she doesn’t dislike anything. she can find pros and cons and merits to pretty much any artist and enjoys talking about why they’re popular or they should be, or why they have influence/are good/talented/relevant, whatever the argument for them is

basically if someone asks her about music, be prepared to just have to listen to her rant about it for a million years

she’s kinda a hippie, she’s constantly going to yoga or mediating or trying new herbal concoctions or acupuncture or cupping or buying new crystals or whatever - any ailment she suggests yoga for rather than, like, going to a doctor? again, la native here

tierney is all about trusting in the universe

she’s like…wildly chaotic. she will try anything once (and usually more than that), goes out all the time, has the weirdest sleep schedule (maybe just never sleep in general), and yet somehow is always a ball of energy

other than groovy graveyard, places she'd frequent in asbury park are pipe dreams smokeshop, wonder bar, madam marie's, the abandoned casino & carousel, paranormal books & curiosities, sandoval dollar, & silverball retro arcade

overall, tierney is really laidback & chill & loves to vibe & party and gets along with pretty much anyone

CONNECTION IDEAS

i would love people who have been her podcast co-host ?? i kinda imagine it's a bit of a revolving door since she's insufferable lmao

give me a good luck, babe! inspired toxic situationship and i will love you forever

more will come soon but these are the first two ideas off the top of my head

and always down to brainstorm or fill tierney into anything that would fit !!

[mjmagics]

Chapter 2

Warnings: MC almost gets kidnapped, anxiety of large places, MC swearing a lot, teenage hormonal responses

Rating: 14+ THE ONLY STORY ON MY ACCOUNT NOT 18+

Word Count: 1,500+

I’m not an idiot 

Gotham City,  New Jersey. USA 

Robin watched as a plane landed at the Gotham International  Airport or the GIA. According to his father’s research, a gang leader who went by the name of King of Spades would be coming home to America from the United Kingdom, where he robbed a series of banks. He caused quite a stir for Batman’s allies in the UK, and the whole team was eager to end his criminal career, along with his gang members. 

“Batman, I see the target,” Robin stated, pressing down on the earpiece he wore so those on the comlink could hear him. 

“Great job, Robin,” Batman replied. “Now get to the next zone, Red Robin and Nightwing are in the building to monitor the target. Do not engage. We are to follow him to the hideout of the Royal Flush Gang.” 

The boy in red and green sighed. “I know, Batman, I’m not an idiot.” 

“I was simply reminding you,” Batman pointed out. “There is a break-in at a local retail store, Spoiler and I will handle it,” The man announced before cutting off the conversation.  

“You know what would be useful right now?” A voice came through on the intercom. 

“What, Nightwing?”  Robin asked. 

“Oo! Let me guess,” yet another voice exclaimed. “Miss Martian’s mental link?” 

“Ding ding ding,” Nightwing replied. “Red Robin is our winner.” Then the man sighed, “I’m missing my old team. Missions like this always remind me of them.” 

“Sorry we’re not good enough for you, Grayson,” Robin spat. 

“Boys, focus,” Batman’s voice came through on the earpiece. “And no real names, you all know this.” 

Robin tutted in frustration. “Yes sir.” 

“I can feel your anger from here, Robin,” Nightwing stated, there was a shutter in his voice before he let out a dry laugh. “Shit, I see our target. He is making his way to the far east exit.” 

“On it,” Red Robin replied. “I have eyes on him, is Batgirl and Red Hood ready?” 

“They are,” Batman answered. “Robin, can you tag his car?” 

“That’s easy,” Robin stated. “I was trained since a child for missions much more strenuous than this.” 

“Strenuous?” Nightwing asked. 

“It’s a synonym for hard,” the younger chuckled. “It’s a bit disappointing you don’t know the word.” 

“Ouch, how does that burn feel, Nightwing,” Red Robin chimed with a chuckle.

“I know what strenuous means, I’ m just surprised you know,” Nightwing sighed with defeat. 

“I’m not an idiot.” 

“I never said you were!”

“I’m heading to the car now,” Robin growled before switching off his Bluetooth device and storming out of the area. 

On the other side of the airport, Jade Knutsvig was just stepping off the warm plane and into the humid building full of bodies pushing and pulling to board their flights on time. Her eyes widened as she assessed the large building. In all her years she had never been in an airport as large as GIA. Other than the Mall of America, she had never been in a place this large. She had barely traveled outside of her home state. It was completely foreign to the girl.

After the first wave of shock passed, she found herself sitting on a bench, taking in the glass walls that allowed the pale orange light of the setting sun into the structure. It reminded her of tree sap, and she pulled a piece of crystallized amber from her carry-on. Amber could absorb negative energy, and ever since she was a young girl she was able to rely on the smooth stone to ease her anxieties. 

Jade whispered a small prayer to herself. It wasn’t to any god, but it was a cry for the universe to help guide her through the maze of the airport. After a few deep breaths, Jade pulled out her phone to message her sister. As the device turned on she could see the shadow of a man looming over her. Without looking at him she could already feel an untrustworthy energy radiating from his aura. 

“Are you lost?” The man questioned. “Where is your mom?” 

“I’m by myself,” She swiftly answered. The girl was unfamiliar with the hostilities of larger communities. Jade grew up in the comfort of small towns where everyone knew their neighbors and had their noses in one another's business. Her eyes glanced up at the man, and once she made eye contact with him her stomach dropped. 

“My name is Bruce Wayne. You might not know of me, but I’m a bit of a celebrity around here. I saw you got off a fight from Minneapolis. Are you from there?” 

“No,” Jade whispered. Where is Eliza she found herself thinking. She flies me all the way out to Gotham only to abandon me in an airport! 

Being stuck in her thoughts, Jade missed the moment that the man before her reached for her right forearm. His large hand grasped her body, and a rough pull brought her to her feet. 

“Woah, dude,” She exclaimed, trying to tug away from him. Her attempt to escape his friends was useless and it only made him hold tighter. “You don’t know what you’re doing! My sister is waiting for me, she will know I’m missing.” 

Pleading wasn’t helping Jade’s case, and the man began to lead Jade into the crowd of the airport. Her bag was left behind on the bench, along with her phone. Panic began to set in. This was nothing like home. 

“Help!” Jade screamed, “Help me! Someone!”

The man began to dig his nails into her skin, “shut up,” he growled. He then turned to the crowd the circled them. “Sorry, my daughter is just throwing a fit.” 

“Help! Please. I don’t know this man!” The young woman began to recall what her older sister taught her many years ago. “Please! This isn’t my dad!” 

“Barbra?” A voice sounded from the crowd, and a man with bright blue eyes and dark hair stepped out. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

Another stranger? Why couldn’t her sister be here to grab her? Yet, this guy seemed a lot better than the man who has dragged her across the airport. “Uh- Hi,” Jade said awkwardly. “I don’t know this man. I think he’s trying to kidnap me.” 

The assailant let go of the teen and began to push his way through the crowd. The man who referee to her as Barbara stepped closer. “Hey, let me help you.” 

“I’m okay,” Jade snapped. She was anxious, homesick, and had her life flash before her eyes. Overthinking took over her, and her brain visualized each situation that could have come to her if the man hadn’t saved her. 

“It's no bother,” The man stated. 

“I thank you for your help,” Jade huffed, checking her pockets for anything she might have. The girl found nothing but wanted to gift the man something. She closed her eyes while her right hand was shoved in her hoodie pocket and created a shard of jade stone. She presented it to him, flat in her palm. “Here, a token of my appreciation.” 

The man accepted it and opened his mouth as if he was going to comment on it. Before he could another man, closer to Jade’s sister’s age, stood next to him. “Hey, I know you’re trying to play hero but she’s safe. We have things to do.” 

The man who saved Jade nodded. “Thank you,” He stated, shaking the piece of jade that was in his hands to signify his gratitude. Jade simply nodded before she ran back to her stuff, surprised to see it had not been stolen by a thief. 

The moment she found her phone she called her sister. Her heart was still racing, and then a mix of fear and adrenaline made her legs weak. “Where are you?” Her voice was a whisper, and the moment Eliza replied with: “I’m at the gate c-19. Is that not yours?” 

“No,” The girl said, but as the syllables left her mouth so did a sob of fear. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Where are you? I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“I’m at “ Jade choked down another sob. “I’m at gate C-13. I wanna go home,” The girl cried, trying to hide in her hoodie. “Eliza, a man grabbed me.” 

“Oh my god,” Eliza gasped. In the background of the call, Jade could hear Eliza’s pace go from a brisk walk to a run. “I see you,” She replied quickly. 

Jade looked around before her eyes met Eliza’s. She felt a wave of warmth wash over her. It wasn’t natural, it was Eliza’s power soothing her. The two finally met, and Jade didn’t have time to hang up the call before Eliza’s arms were around her, her body heat matching the temperature of warmth that was soothed Jade meer seconds before. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Eliza repeated. 

After the two calmed down, filed a police report with airport security and Gotham PD, and retrieved Jade’s bags, the two began their car ride to their home. Jade fell asleep in traffic, and Eliza pondered if the man trying to kidnap her sister was an omen to get her sister out of Gotham already.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Kiera Butler at Mother Jones (06.11.2024):

During the contentious confirmation hearings of Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh in 2018, a self-appointed Christian apostle named Dutch Sheets issued an urgent call for prayer on his website. Sheets is a leader in an enigmatic charismatic movement known as the New Apostolic Reformation, which calls the faithful to fight a spiritual war for Christian control of the United States government. He urged his readers to ask God to grant them “a majority of Justices who are Constitutionalists, literalists (meaning they believe the Constitution is to be taken literally, exactly as it is written) and who are pro-life.” He added, “Let’s also boldly ask Him for another vacancy on the Court soon—I feel strongly in my spirit another is coming quickly. We should be offensive in our prayers, not just defensive and reactionary.”

Apostles, prayer offensives, spiritual messages—by most standards, Sheets’ approach to politics would be considered highly eccentric, to put it mildly. Yet among adherents of the New Apostolic Reformation, the idea that God was involved in anointing justices had already gained traction. Another influential apostle, a Texas-based, self-described “strategist, futurist, and compelling communicator” named Lance Wallnau, declared in a 2018 broadcast that the accusations of rape against Kavanaugh were a “spiritual attack.” The previous year in a YouTube video, apostle and Trump campaign adviser Frank Amedia recounted how, “at 3:30 in the morning, the Lord showed me a broom going up and down the pillars of the Supreme Court building.” The message was clear: God wanted to sweep out the old justices—especially the liberal ones—to make room for new Christian ones. In the midst of the chaos surrounding Justice Kavanaugh’s nomination, the apostles’ visions of a Christian Supreme Court didn’t get much mainstream attention—until they did. Over the last few years, the Christian nationalist movement has gained political prominence, as its influential members have sought to make the case for an explicitly Christian society in public schools, social policy, and even in Congress, led by the ultraconservative and devout House speaker Mike Johnson.

Against this cultural backdrop, calls for a godly Supreme Court have moved beyond the echo chamber of the far-right fringe. Last month, the New York Times broke a series of stories about flags displayed at the homes of US Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito. Outside of Alito’s main residence was an upside-down American flag, a symbol associated with the effort to overturn the 2020 US presidential election. At his vacation home in New Jersey, the Times’ Jodi Kantor later reported, was an “Appeal to Heaven” flag showing a lone pine tree, an old icon that had been revived by none other than Dutch Sheets. (As it turned out, the flag belonged to Alito’s wife, Martha Ann.) Leonard Leo, the deep-pocketed conservative kingmaker who has extended his largesse to several Supreme Court justices and their families, has also flown the “Appeal to Heaven” flag outside his home in Maine, Rolling Stone recently reported. Perhaps more troubling than the flags, though, is that the idea of promoting a Christian nation seems to be seeping into some of the justices’ legal arguments. Elliot Mincberg, an attorney and Supreme Court researcher at the progressive advocacy group People for the American Way, has documented ways in which some members of the Court espouse the popular evangelical belief that Christians are being persecuted and therefore must be defended. “The far-right majority of Court is very much in the same view as the New Apostolic Reformation folks about religion, about government,” he says. “And, frankly, about the hostility of government to religion.”

[...] One common misconception about the New Apostolic Reformation is that it is a Protestant denomination, like Baptists or Presbyterians. When I first started researching this movement, I googled “New Apostolic Reformation church near me,” naively thinking that I could pop into a service and perhaps ask a pastor to explain the sect. What I quickly discovered, though, is that there is no single leader of the New Apostolic Reformation, no annual conference, nor any website with its statements of belief. Rather, the movement is vast and amorphous, a network of various individual prophets and apostles overseeing their own ministries and issuing prophetic declarations as they go along. It’s safe to say that many people who attend a church whose leaders dabble in the theology promoted by the New Apostolic Reformation have never heard of it. The movement came out of the older and more well-known tradition of Pentecostalism, whose adherents believe that God grants some believers the ability to perform miracles and speak in tongues. The term “New Apostolic Reformation” was coined in the 1990s by an influential evangelical writer named C. Peter Wagner, though the term didn’t get much national attention until a few decades later.

In 2011, National Public Radio’s Terry Gross interviewed a scholar of religion about the movement and referred to Wagner as its “leading architect.” In a rebuttal piece for the Christian publisher Charismatic News, Wagner emphasized that he was not the movement’s leader—because it had none. Rather, he said, it was a coming together of several sects that shared a belief that God appointed apostles and prophets. He noted that it was the duty of Christians to engage in spiritual warfare to establish “kingdom-minded people in every one of the Seven Mountains: Religion, Family, Education, Government, Media, Arts & Entertainment, and Business so that they can use their influence to create an environment in which the blessings and prosperity of the Kingdom of God can permeate all areas of society.”  This doctrine—sometimes known as the Seven-Mountain Mandate—is a central tenet in the New Apostolic Reformation. Many of the most prominent apostles today—Texas business consultant Lance Wallnau, for instance, as well as Korean-American Pastor Ché Ahn of Harvest Rock Church in Pasadena, California—regularly preach about its importance. Today, estimates of the number of people whose churches are influenced by the New Apostolic Reformation vary widely, from 3 million to 33 million. Because of the movement’s laser focus on starting a spiritual war to Christianize America, the Southern Poverty Law Center recently called the New Apostolic Reformation “the greatest threat to US democracy that you have never heard of.”

One other distinguishing feature of the New Apostolic Reformation is the belief that God is still communicating directly with people through modern-day prophets, who preach about the messages directly from God that they receive, often in dreams. Since 2016, many of the most publicized prophesies have concerned former president Trump, whom they see as chosen by God. The “Appeal to Heaven” flag that Dutch Sheets popularized was flown by many attendees at the “Stop the Steal” rally that preceded the Capitol insurrection of January 6, 2021; a few months before, Sheets told his followers that the results of the presidential election were “going to be overturned and President Trump is going to be put back in office for four years.” In 2022, Sheets said that Trump had told him in a dream that he would be a “political martyr” because, he had said, loosely quoting the Bible, “‘God has put the tools in me to tear down, root up, and confront the system.’”

[...] In March, Jauregui instructed his followers to “[p]ray that the Lord would be glorified through the remainder of the Supreme Court session and accompanying decisions.” Some Christian groups are doing more than praying; they’re filing amicus briefs— documents submitted by people outside of a given case who believe their expertise may help the justices in their deliberations. The briefs can be influential. In a landmark ruling last year on affirmative action in higher education, for example, legal scholars noted that a brief from the US military strongly influenced the justices to exempt military academies from the new rules. Previously, those who wanted to file an amicus brief with the Supreme Court had to obtain permission from lawyers on either side of the case in question. That requirement was dropped in early 2023; now anyone can file, as long as their lawyer is a member of the US Supreme Court bar. The amicus floodgates then opened, and included in the onslaught of briefs for the current roster of cases were some whose authors had explicitly Christian Nationalist ties. Condemned USA submitted a brief in support of President Trump in the immunity case. Describing its mission as “preserving your rights and freedoms by defending against a weaponized system of justice for all American citizens and future generations,” it is led by January 6th insurrectionist Treniss Evans, who has appeared at live and virtual events with New Apostolic Reformation prophets. Another brief in support of Trump came from the Christian Family Coalition, a Florida nonprofit that says it is “intensely involved in the political process to secure its goals in the public interest.” Among its current projects is advocating for chaplains in Florida’s public schools.

The Mother Jones piece on SCOTUS and Christian Nationalism’s harmful influence on the court is a must-read.

[kyistell]

The last of my NJ headcanons. Now let it be known that there will probably be more in the future, considering he is my favorite, HOWEVER this is all I have for now lol.

New Jersey-

Normally is presenting more as Central Jersey, his tics are from North and South trying to speak at the same time

Because of slightly demonic magic, Jersey is fractured like how his state is, there’s North, South, and Central, they can all split into their own persons with North looking the same, but not for too long

While Jersey has used many names during his life, the one his mothers gave him is the only few actually know, Jonah Eriksson Bakker, Eriksson being his Mother’s last name and Bakker his Ma’s

Despite it being hundreds of years, he still isn’t used to English, words never come out quite right, there’s almost always something just slightly missed pronounced even when taking his accent into account

If he’s upset or tired he has a pretty heavy lisp, which along with his already heavy accent when feeling any emotion makes him pretty impossible to understand, the only ones that do are York, Del, and surprisingly Penn

Likes to call New York ‘Yorkie’ Vermont ‘Monty’ Kentucky ‘Ken’ (he’s the only one allowed too) California ‘Westie’ Florida ‘Dia’ ‘Sunshine’ or ‘Flo Rida’ and says Texas like how a Russian would (he has no idea why he started to he just did one day)

The Jersey Devil is real, Jerseys met it multiple times in his life, sometimes they exist in the same space in the Pine Barrens, but most times they don’t

Jersey has a Jersey Devil plush, had it since he was a young child, it’s his prized possession along with one of Connie’s books from the 1850s that he ‘borrowed’ 

When he was younger, Jersey would go to Devil’s Tree to read, it's how he learn the hard way, that his not father father is not the only demon that resides in NJ

In contrast to York, Jersey LOVES drop towers, thinks that they are the second best theme park flat ride to ever exist (the first are those super scramblers that flip while spinning)

Threw his shoe at York so much that Penn ended up buying him sandals as a joke, a joke that Jersey didn’t understand until YEARS later, he still loves and uses those sandals, his aim is unmatched when it comes to hitting York

Would get hit by Yorkie every time he said the R word (which he still doesn't fully believe is a slur but whatever Yorkie), this was specifically during the 2000s

Has brought every State to Action Park at least once when it was still open, it’s best not to question how he convinced Alaska and Hawaii or literally any other State, it’s just best not too

Jersey has a little devil that could in theory be related to the Jersey Devil, it's name is Impy

[tacky-jack-with-a-hat]

I have a few hc’s that make little to no sense (except for one of them):

-Gov has a reptile hyperfixation (just decided this yesterday) and owns a few snakes and likes to put hats on them and edit little stick arms onto their pictures

-Texas doesn’t actually hate the LGBTQ+ community. He just says stuff like that because his government seems to suck and punishes him when he defends us gays and theys. He’s a closeted transgender bisexual, except the closet is made of clear plastic film.

-Gov can mimic the accent of any country and/or region he wants to. It’s both fascinating and weird.

-Louisiana taught NY how to do the two-step, Cajun Jitterbug and the waltz, and NY taught him how to do a bunch of Dutch folk dances. So now they just randomly have times where they dance for hours on end in each others rooms.

-NJ has and will continue to fvck off into the woods without telling anyone. The first time he did it, NY panicked. A lot. The poor baby thought he lost one of his big brothers 😭

-NY has and does climb Alaska like a tree to get away from angry siblings and Alaska is just fine with it at this point and even throws in some "C’mon Masshole/Jersey/Connecticut, stop bullying your baby brother." and they’re just like "👁️👄👁️💢”

Not replying to all of them bc most of these are just true and I have nothing to add.

1st one makes me think when Florida brings gators to the statehouse Gov will only pretend to be mad before knitting them sweaters bc it's too for them cold. Also he has fancy tea parties with his reptile friends in top hats bc it's the closest he'll get to a good table meeting.

I now want to see him hold a bearded dragon, with tears in his eyes while other states are watching him speak to the lizard "Your name henceforth is Alexander. You are my son- my child. I will conquer land for you, I will burn empires for you, I will sacrifice my states for your happiness alone. So please- for the love of god please stop eating your hat it took me hours!"

2nd Texas: I hate gays

Every other state: we know, your boyfriend said.

5th What you just described with NY and NJ is just my friend when she first got a cat and didn't know they just disappear sometimes to do their own thing. Honestly if any two states are cats it's those two. New Jersey probably also brought back a dead animal but for different reasons.