#so it was best to put her down now before she would actually start suffering

[just-a-little-anxious]

shitty week to be alive rn but i'm being very brave about it

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Prologue

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Kinda Elain Bashing?, Low Self Esteem, Mention of Cauldron induced torture...

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

As far as cauldron-made went…Eira Archeron was pretty much useless. 

She had neither the power of Death nor of Divinity. 

She was neither the prettiest one, that title belonged to Elain…nor the smartest one, which was undoubtedly Nesta. Or the strongest one like Feyre…And if she had tried to hunt like Feyre, it would have been more likely that she would have accidentally killed herself instead of bringing home any meat. 

As a human, she had been limited to cooking and cleaning and laundry, all of it with limited supplies and even more limited experience. She had tried. It had never been enough. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her that her uselessness continued on even when she was no longer human.

So if she wasn’t beautiful or strong or smart…what was she then? 

The dumb one? 

When the cauldron had burned every bit of humanity out of her…when it had ripped away all her hopes and dreams…when it had been so angry with Nesta after whatever she had done to it that Eira was just…Eira was just an afterthought, something it could hurt in response to her sisters and then leave gasping on that stone floor feeling like she was dying…

She had done her best to accept her lack of humanity afterwards. Nesta had raged…Elain had said nothing, suffering silently in the bed…and Eira…Eira had tried. 

Tried to make it better…tried to make it easier for everybody around her. She had tried. 

She hadn’t wanted to put even more on Feyre’s shoulders, not with the threat of impending war…and so she had done her best to be supportive and make no trouble…be agreeable and quiet and be helpful…

But she couldn’t be helpful. 

She was nothing but a useless appendage. With no powers, no great destiny stretched in front of her…

Not even a limb. Not even a fucking pinky finger. 

More like a skin tag. 

Completely useless. If cut off, it wouldn’t even bother anybody. 

They had made that clear to her over time. 

They had made clear what they thought about her, again and again, and now…now she finally realised it. She was a slow learner…but by the gods, she did learn. 

It started…slow in a sense. Comments, made offhandedly, that probably weren’t meant that way anyway…sometimes said to her face…sometimes overheard. 

“Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.” Amren. After she had finally…after months felt like singing again as she fixed the hem on one of her sister’s dresses. She had stopped singing then.

Amren had never brought it up again. But then Amren had never been particularly nice to any of them.      

“Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.” Rhysand had told her drily when she insisted on visiting Nesta at the House of Wind every week after all of that had gone down… 

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?” Seethingly said by Nesta…pitted against the one thing she liked to pretend she was good at…the one thing she could do and make money with…

It cut. Of course, it did. But it wasn’t even the worst thing thrown at her head by Nesta…so why was it the one thing that stayed in her mind? 

“We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.” Cassian…overheard by Eira before the rest of them had gone off to Hewn City. Eira left behind because…well the contrast of Elain badly dressed was enough, no need for Eira to…be what? A distraction?  

And it was true too. Elain was the prettier twin sister. 

Eira was just…common as muck as her mother had liked to remind her…Nesta was the smart one, the one who would marry a prince…Elain would marry for love and beauty…and Eira…well, she would make a good farmer’s wife as far as her mother was concerned.

Not pretty enough to garner a richer man’s attention…not smart enough to drag herself up the echelons of society on her own…To easily content as far as her mother was concerned. 

“As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.” Morrigan. Said in jest. Eira was quite sure of that…still, it had hurt. Because it was true. She was useless. 

No magic sparking at her fingertips…Using her magic was like pulling teeth…painful and a long process…And it never did what she wanted anyway. 

“Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do,” Feyre had said with a sigh…after she had brought her sister cookies and tea…after she had only tried to get Feyre to take a break from her work. 

Eira hadn’t tried that again either. 

And then the one that clinched it: 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

Said by Elain…by her twin sister. She was frozen in place, staring at Elain wide-eyed as her sister sneered at her. 

 That was the last drop into an already overflowing bucket. 

Stress. Right? Just stress from wedding planning. Elain would have never said that usually. 

She wouldn’t have…

It was just…it was just stress…Just stress. 

Elain didn’t mean it like that. 

Right?

Elain flounced off…her wedding binder in tow…leaving Eira alone, sitting there, in the dining room, her chest aching. 

Eira was in a trance as she carefully put all the plates into one tidy stack…as she was thankful that it had just been her and Elain, every other person in their family busy with their mates or something else…Feyre and Rhysand gone with Baby Nyx for the evening…Nesta and Cassian off at the House of Wind…who knew what Mor and Amren were up to…

Or even Azriel. 

A sob threatened to take over, as she thought that name. 

She walked up the stairs…to her room…Her room. She locked the door with shaky hands. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

She collapsed on her bed, burying her face into her pillow and let the tears stream. 

Ridiculous puppy crush. 

All of that said because she had tried to talk to Elain about her choice of flowers for her wedding. Because lilies wouldn’t be in season when she married Lucien in Day Court in less than 2 months. 

And then Elain responded with that, because Eira clearly wanted to ruin her wedding with that factoid. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

The worst part of it was that it was the simple truth. 

Azriel was never going to pay her a second glance. 

He had always been more interested in Elain than Eira…he had on more than one occasion asked Eira questions about her twin sister…had made sure that Elain was comfortable and cared for…and Eira had sufficed as a source of information and nothing else. 

And after Elain and Lucien had become serious…well, Eira ceased to be interesting too. He hadn’t sought her out again. 

If she sat next to him at dinner, he was polite and quiet, bordering on silent. And then she tried to fill the silence and probably only annoyed him in the process. 

He didn’t want her. He never would. 

She starved down the sobs that wracked her body. 

It was probably high time that she accepted that, right?

High time to get over herself. 

High time that she reminded herself that…that she was never going to have him and that staring at him in ill-hidden affection only made everybody else make fun of her and probably made him deeply uncomfortable. 

So maybe it was better that she just…

At least he had never called her useless, she supposed. It could be worse…even when he never would want her. 

She felt the touch on her hand first…soft like velvet…like kitten fur…never warm, never cold. massive and somehow not… definitely not human. 

The shadows. His shadows. 

Sometimes they came to keep her company. At the start, she had thought that maybe he had sent them but nowadays she was quite sure that they had just liked her quiet singing while embroidery one afternoon. So quiet that nobody would hear.  It had taken her months to coax them out of their corners after that. They probably had just taken pity on her. 

Just like they did now. 

“Please don’t,” she choked out. She never wanted him to find out how she was feeling about him…never wanted to feel the pain of him outright turning her down. 

 And if his shadows came to check on her, they would report back in what they saw…and they didn’t need…didn’t need to worry about it. 

They never talked to her. Just sometimes they came and listened to her softly talk to them while she was sewing in the evening, about this and that...

It wasn’t right how she talked to you, the shadows whispered. 

They didn’t talk to her. Never. 

And now they did. 

Hell, even his shadows were feeling sorry for her, weren’t they? 

“Please don’t tell him,” she begged. 

He should know, they disagreed softly. Everybody should know. She should apologise to you. 

And what would that give her? Nothing. More embarrassment because everybody else got to hear all about her fledgling little feelings? Feelings she should bury deep and never examine again? 

“Please,” she begged again and the shadows seemingly surrendered, curling themselves up against her hands so that she could touch them. 

Don’t cry, they soothed her softly. Don’t give her that. 

Elain hadn’t said anything that was untrue. That was the worst part. It was true. And that hurt. 

Is there anything we could do? the shadows asked Eira softly. Anything at all to make this better? 

“No,” she whispered, choking out the words, another sob. Not anymore. There was nothing anybody could do. 

It hurt. It hurt so badly.  Just like the cauldron had.  Then she had wished she would die. 

Now…now she wondered the same once again. Maybe then it would stop feeling like this. 

She cried her eyes out, as the tears kept pouring over her cheeks…as she sobbed until her throat was raw and everything hurt. And finally, she just laid there…the shadows still swirling worriedly around her prone form. 

“Don’t you need to work?” she asked the shadows listlessly, tears tracking over her cheeks. “Don’t you have something more important to do than to try and comfort me?” 

Maybe take care of him?

You are important, the shadows snapped. 

Eira could argue that point. She was useless. So what did it matter? It didn’t. 

She wiped away the tears, but new ones just came pouring over her face and she stopped trying, let them run down her face and wondered how long she could stay in her room and never come out again. 

Would you like something to eat? the shadows tried again. So sweet. Trying to give her something, anything to comfort her. 

“No, thank you,” she whispered. Alone the thought made her want to throw up. 

She didn’t want to eat. 

She didn’t want to get up and talk to anybody. She didn’t want to even look at another person anymore. 

She didn’t…

What would you like then? The shadows tried softly. Would you like to plot revenge? they suggested. 

It was so stupid that she choked out a laugh. 

“For what? Elain saying what everybody else is thinking?” Eira asked, her heart painfully restricting. 

Nobody here actually wanted her around. If she disappeared forever she would do them a favour. Him especially. 

Elain had only said what everybody else was thinking. 

All three of her sisters had found their mates, just not Eira. All three of her sisters had some kind of power…just not her. All three of them had found some kind of place for themselves…and then there was her, living with her youngest sister, half seamstress, half nanny for her child, an unwanted appendage that was taken care of out of some feeling of duty and no other reason.

Elain had just voiced what she was thinking. The truth. 

It had been the truth. Plain and simple. And Eira maybe didn’t like to hear it but it didn’t…it didn’t matter. 

It was the truth. 

Elain had two men willing to marry her and spend the rest of their lives with her…and nobody wanted to spend any time with Eira. A husband wasn’t even something that had ever seemed to be a possibility. 

Even if everybody else is thinking, that doesn’t make it right. The shadows disagreed quietly. Your sister said that to hurt you and not for any other reason. 

“She’s stressed out with wedding planning,” Eira whispered. 

It had just been that. Probably. Maybe. 

That doesn’t make it right, the shadows disagreed again, twirling tighter around her wrist. We could ruin her wedding. Lilies and all, they suggested brightly. 

She shook her head. No. Elain should have the wedding she dreamed of. Eira wasn’t going to ruin it for her. 

“Don’t do that,” she said weakly.

We could at least steal her wedding binder, they told her mulishly, and Eira wondered if they disagreed like that with Azriel too.

Azriel…

What did it say about her that she fell head over heels in love with the first man who treated her with polite indifference? That she was so desperate to be loved that that was all it took? 

Did it matter? 

No. 

Elaine was right. He would never spare her a second glance. He was just as unreachable as any other male.

Nothing was enticing about Eira.  Neither her body, nor her mind, nor her magical power. What could she possibly offerany male? 

All the nightmares she had on a near-daily basis? All the fear and anxiety that swirling around her gut every day? 

She could sew on any buttons he lost along the way, she supposed. That was something.

The knife that plunged into her womb and twisted, took her by surprise. 

It shouldn’t have.  

Of course. 6 months had passed once again. 

“Don’t tell him this either,” she begged in a whimper. This was too embarrassing. He didn’t need to know about her cycle. 

Nobody did. She was the most modest out of all her sisters. The one with the most human ideas of what was considered to be decent, left…the only one who…

The only one left with her maidenhead intact, because everybody else was mated or married or very much in love and it had never mattered in Prythian anyway. 

Just Eira was left. 

Without a mate. Without a husband. 

Without ever having even been kissed. Nearly 26 and that…hadn’t happened for her. 

It probably would never happen anyway. 

Why today of all days? 

Why did her cycle need to torture her today?  How did she deserve this? Why not in a week…Though at least now she had a reason not to leave her bed for a few days.  

She could just stay here. 

Mope in her own Misery and self-pity…wallow in the pain that she knew would come…

Of course, it would. She had always had a horrible time during her cycle even as a human…as a Fae, it had become her very own personal torture. 

Maybe a bath would make you feel better, the shadows suggested softly as she already curled herself together in pain. 

She needed to get up and sort herself out before it got even worse…made sure that she wouldn’t get blood all over the sheets, but she couldn’t…She didn’t want to. 

And a bath…A stab of pure fear.  

“It’s like the cauldron,” Eira whimpered. Just like the cauldron. 

She didn’t bathe…she used buckets of water…even years later…still standing water was not something she could stand. Not without being reminded of her humanity being ripped away and traded for whatever this existence was. 

What if we make sure that it isn’t? the shadows asked her softly. It will be nothing like the cauldron, we promise. 

A bath…a hot bath that would help against the soreness of her muscles…that would maybe ease the cramps…

It did sound nice. So nice. 

So Eira just weakly nodded. 

That seemed to be all the agreement the shadows needed as they whisked her to the bathing chamber, in the blink of an eye.

She watched as they flitted about the room, turning on the water, dotting candles around the room, making it brightly lit with faelight and candlelight both. 

Lots of foam and bubbles appeared in the bathtub as well as numerous concoctions being poured into the water. 

She slowly toed off her shoes and opened the laces of her dress. Eira hesitated and the shadows disappeared, letting her undress in privacy…letting her walk to the bathtub and test the temperature…stare at it for a moment. 

It couldn’t look less like the cauldron if it tried. 

She waited for a stab of fear but nothing came. 

So she slid into it, let the warm water envelope her, the perfect temperature… A few tendrils of shadows came to keep her company, touching her chin so that she tipped her head back and they started to wash her hair for her. 

Eira couldn’t even remember the last time anybody had done that for her. 

And they did that…without even asking…just…just for her. 

“Thank you,” Eira whispered, not daring to close her eyes, but staring at the ceiling. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?” she asked weakly. “Isn’t your master going to be angry at you?” She didn’t want them to get into any trouble, just because they…they were taking care of her. 

You don’t want Master to find out, so he won’t, they said easily. Would you like some pain potions? 

If they gave them to her, she wouldn’t need to walk downstairs and maybe face her sister or gods forbid, Rhysand…and ask them for Madja. 

Nobody would need to know. She could have her privacy and her dignity left intact. 

“Yes, please,“ she breathed in relief as the shadows poured something or other over her head. One shadow brought her a vial, wrapping around her wrist as she uncorked and downed it. 

A bitter taste but it left her blissedly numb and tired nearly immediately.

“What’s that?” She mumbled as they hushed her, massaging her head.

It tasted differently than whatever Madja usually gave her…telling her that pain and discomfort were normal and that her potions would ease it…It was like pouring a bucket of water over an inferno. 

While this…this was quenching everything. Leaving her numb. 

Just a rather strong pain potion, the shadows promised her. You’ll sleep for a bit…We’ll talk more then.

Sleep… Sleep sounded nice…

She didn’t even think about feeling self-conscious when they pulled her from the water, rinsed her off and wrapped her in warm, fluffy towels. 

They laid out her favourite nightgown so she only needed to pull it on and pull back the sheets of her bed so she could slide beneath it. 

Even a hot water bottle was waiting for her…

Everything so that she would be as comfortable as possible… everything for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears pricking in her eyes as she climbed between her blankets, the shadows fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets as high as they went. 

It was weird…to have the shadows doting on her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Eira was too selfish to protest this bit of attention…the only positive attention she had in years. 

They promised not to tell, so she wouldn’t either. Not when this was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her. 

She fell asleep between one breath and the next, safely and warmly ensconced in her bed. Deep dreamless sleep…When she woke, it must have been the middle of the night…and still, the shadows were there immediately. 

She whimpered at the cramps that were ransacking her body…and the growling of her stomach in hunger. 

She hated these cycles. Hated how weak they left her and how she wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. 

Are you hungry? You’ll need to eat before you can take another pain potion, the shadows told her worriedly. Not a lot, just a little bit, they promised. 

“I don’t want to go down into the kitchen,” she answered weakly, biting her lip. Not that she thought that she could safely traverse the staircase anyway. 

Eira just wanted to stay here…alone. Maybe with the shadows for company, as long as they wanted her…

We’ll get you something. What would you like? They assured her immediately. 

Everything in her body ached for something human, even when she knew that their food would taste like ash for her. She always wanted human things. The things she would never have again.  

“Maybe some soup?” Eira asked finally. “If that’s not too much trouble?” 

Of course not. 

They fluffed her pillows and helped her sit up…and then soup appeared…a bowl filled with clear broth with bits of vegetables and chunks of chicken and noodles…cooked to perfection…better than anything she could have ever produced and by the gods, she had tried…All of it, arranged on a tray, with two slices of perfect crusty bread and another pain potion. 

She took that first, and it made her pleasantly numb and tired…and so she weakly spooned as much soup as she could in her mouth afterwards… mopping up the last of her soup with the bread. 

She finished as much as she could before she was too tired and the shadows tucked her back into bed, curled up on her side…so they could fuss with her hair which was a mess as always. 

She felt like a child being fawned over and she couldn’t help but relax into it…let them do with her whatever they wished if they just kept being so…nice to her. 

Feeling better? they asked softly and she hummed. 

If you could be anything…do anything... what would it be? The shadows wondered quietly. The movements of them were lulling her to some space of safety and warmth and Eira considered the question. 

If she could have anything in the world…what would she want?

A heady question. 

“When I was…young,” she said softly… “I wanted a dashing knight to come rescue me, and whisk me away from that horrible cottage,” she said weakly. “That’s what I wanted since I was old enough to want anything.”

A stupid children’s dream. 

But sadly there were no knights in Prythian and even if there were any, they wouldn’t pick Eira. 

And now? The shadows pushed. 

“Somebody that loves me,”  she admitted quietly. “A husband…children.”

All of that…she wanted all of that. 

And she was never going to have it. 

We could find you a husband, the shadows finally said quietly. If that makes you happy…we could help you.

“Who could possibly want me?” Eira asked, her voice breaking. Who would want her? The answer was easy: Nobody. 

Only because Master is an idiot, doesn’t mean every male is, they told her tartly. 

She wanted to laugh but it ended in a sob. 

“He isn’t an idiot,” Eira disagreed. “He just knows that…I am not good enough for him.”

Not pretty enough, not smart enough…not enough period.

That’s ridiculous, the shadows hissed. 

It wasn’t. 

“He’s in love with my prettier twin sister,” Eira snapped. “I shouldn’t want him anyway. Why should I want to be his second or even third choice?  Maybe for once, I want to be somebody’s first choice! Maybe for once, I want to be treated like I matter! That my feelings matter…that I matter!” It burst out of her. The tears burned in her eyes at that admission. At…how unfair it was. 

What had she done to deserve this? What had she done? 

Eira immediately regretted that outburst though. “I am so sorry,” she blurted out.

They didn’t deserve to be pulled into her feeling unfairly treated. She should stop complaining. It wasn’t going to…

For what? the shadows snorted. You are absolutely right. You deserve to be somebody’s first choice. You deserve to be treated like you matter. 

She didn’t. 

Maybe you should go shopping, the shadows suggested with a sigh. The suggestion was so sudden that she stared at the tendril of shadow still wrapped around her wrist. 

“Why?” she asked with a sigh. 

The Morrigan does that if she feels bad. The shadows told her earnestly. Then she buys shoes and feels better. 

Ah. 

She highly doubted that shoes were going to solve any of her problems. A pretty pair of shoes wasn’t going to make anybody fall in love with her. Or want her. 

“What am I supposed to buy?” She asked quietly. “Just shoes?”

Stuff. The shadows answered easily. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy, they assured her. All your sisters have more stuff than you. You make them dresses and other things. But you never make yourself anything, the shadows said quietly. Nobody would say anything if you wanted things that are yours. 

Right. She had never bothered with that. Not after she had lost all her things together with her humanity…there had been some piles of necessities sent to them by Rhysand…and that had been that. 

She had never bothered to get more than that. She still wore those dresses of the very first weeks… and while she had made dresses for all three of her sisters…as human out of necessity, as Fae out of habit…she hadn’t made herself any in years.

Not since becoming Fae. Her new body felt…she hadn’t wanted to look at her new body for long enough to figure out how something should fit onto it. How it had changed….

These godforsaken ears were enough. 

Buy things for yourself. Like a new dress! Or earrings! Diamonds! The shadows suggested. Whatever you find pretty. 

“My ears aren’t pierced,” she said quietly, a yawn taking over her face. 

That brought them up short.

Master bought you pearl earrings, the shadows said suddenly, sounding perplexed. 

He had. Beautiful. Impersonal. Unwearable for her…a far cry from all the little trinkets he had given to Elain…

Still, for months she had stared at them and found them oh so beautiful…safely kept in their box in her drawer at her vanity table. 

Maybe that alone should have told her everything she needed to know about the state of Azriel’s affection for her. 

Namely it was non-existent when the spymaster of the night court didn’t even bother to check if she even wore earrings. 

And the earrings…well…they were only…one thing. Her room at the River Estate that she had been supposed to furnish to her liking…that was another. 

In the end, it had consisted out of her getting a set of the same bedroom furniture as every other guest room and her walls were painted cream like in every other room Feyre hadn’t gotten to yet. It was still as impersonal as it had been when she had moved in. 

She knew that Elain had stuff to litter her bookcases with…gifts from Azriel or Feyre or Lucien, her mate…even Eira had gifted her sister things. 

But all Eira had…were the dresses she had on commission laid out on her desk. Which she would need to return to the shop where she worked as a seamstress at soon enough once she was finished with her alteration on them…and well, that was it. 

No books, because her reading was absolutely atrocious…no little trinkets from any of her sisters…no paintings or art or anything really. 

Just…her sewing and embroidery supplies and that was that…and even these weren’t…held in one of these pretty little wooden sewing boxes on legs that would keep them tidily kept away…

Do you need money? The shadows asked her seriously. 

“What?” Eira asked weakly.

She made some money with her job. Not a lot…but some. All of it carefully stashed away to buy birthday or solstice gifts from…or little trinkets she saw in a shop and thought one of her sisters would like…that Nyx would like. 

Do you need money? They repeated patiently. To buy stuff? For yourself? 

“No, I have money. And I don’t want to owe anybody anything,” she answered quietly, her eyes slowly closing.

 She didn’t want to end like Nesta… were in the end, her habits were used to bludgeon her with…she didn’t…

You wouldn’t. The shadows assured her. We have our own line of credit. 

What? 

“How does that work? Do you have your own bank account?” she asked curiously, and she could nearly feel their amusement. 

We like playing the lottery. Everything we win, we put into Master’s Bank Account, they explained to her earnestly. He never uses it anyway. We could just put our winnings in yours instead. Master wouldn’t care.

It was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Really?” she still asked weakly. 

Really! they assured her seriously. Enough for you to have a shopping spree! We like shiny things, they told her, making her laugh. Master never buys any. We’ll pick up some mail-order catalogues for you and then you can spend tomorrow ordering some things. Maybe some curtains to spruce things up a little. It’s awfully empty in here. 

Still, she couldn’t help but ask. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Nobody should be treated like you are, they told her fiercely. Nobody should feel like they have no place anywhere.

[heartpascal]

i was born waiting

▹— joel miller x daughter!reader

▹— summary: you’ve been looking for your dad for as long as you can remember, is this really him?

▹— a/n: hi! i started writing this september ‘23, so it has. it’s been a WHILE. so if this seems jumpy / not consistent then that is why! sorry!!! i have done my best!!!

▹— warnings: canon-typical violence and themes, weapons, parental death, witnessing parental death, aka insane amounts of trauma, death in general, she/her pronouns, reader is biologically related to joel but no mentions of appearance, no mention of her bio mother’s appearance either, fantasising about being dead (sorry), all hurt zero comfort, attempted murder, unrealistic expectations of someone you never met — please let me know if ive missed anything!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything), @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being @hqkon

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There are certain things from your childhood that you can remember vividly. Though, really, childhood is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? It’s hard to find the right word to encompass the way you had grown up, because you didn’t have much of a chance to actually grow.

From the moment you had been born, your life was a battle of staying alive to see another day.

That’s not to say that your mother didn’t do her best for you, obviously. But it was hard to raise a child as a child in the midst of a global apocalypse. You were bound to end up the way you did — moulded and hardened by the world around you, by having to pick up a gun at seven years old and use it to protect your mother. By never putting that gun back down.

For the past few years, you had known your mother was suffering. The world had been anything but kind to her, and age was hitting her harder than she had expected. More than the physical aspect, you knew it had been destroying her, the fact that you were now the one protecting her and not the other way around.

But what choice did you have? Her aging body had left her fragile, prone to falling and breaking even more frail bones. You could see the strain on her muscles, as they slowly decayed and shrunk, until they were barely there at all. You couldn’t let her carry the burden for you anymore, because you knew her body couldn’t handle it.

You had been preparing yourself for that moment, though. Making sure that you were ready, that you were strong enough for the both of you, strong enough to shoulder the burden she had been carrying for years.

When you were growing up, your mother had told you tales of your father.

She had told you all about how strong he had been, how he had been the best man she had ever known. She told you how he had cared for his daughter before you, how he had been the best father to that girl. When you were old enough to comprehend these things, you’d asked what had happened to him. “Is dad dead?” You had asked her, watching the way her face fell.

“I don’t know, honey. I hope not.” She had responded, smiling sadly at you, and patting her hand against your cheek.

It was hard for you to let go of that.

The uncertainty had haunted you for the rest of your life since that very moment, leaving you wondering for hours at a time where he could possibly be, why he would ever leave your mother to carry this responsibility alone. And in your more selfish moments, you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t here to care for you as he had his daughter before you.

For a long time, you had convinced yourself that he was dead, despite what your mother hoped. And sure, you felt that loss, something like mourning weighing you down, but it was the only way you felt you could accept his absence. He had to be dead, because otherwise, why wasn’t he here?

But as you grew up, getting taller, stronger, you felt like you could rationalise his absence even if he wasn’t dead. After all, the apocalypse wasn’t exactly family friendly. You figured that if your mother didn’t know whether or not your dad was alive, that the same could go for him. He might just think that you and your mom died, years ago. After all, how many pregnant women survived the end of the world?

You have a feeling that the answer would have to be not many.

So, really, you and your mother being alive by now was nothing short of a miracle. It was a testament to your mother’s strength, her ability. She had succeeded where so many others had failed, and she had managed to keep both herself and you alive.

It’s a bitter kind of irony that you can’t do the same.

The last dredges of autumn fall away, leading into the coldest and harshest part of the year. Winter is hard — it’s full to the brim with fresh Infected, the ones not yet frozen solid, and resources are more scarce than ever. And this winter feels like something tangible, something which sends unending waves of dread through you.

Your mother gets weaker by the day, spending more time resting than moving, and you spend as much time as you can keeping her warm, finding food and water and pain relief for her broken arm that didn’t heal right. She’s exhausted, you can see it in her face, in her every movement. And you’re pretty sure it’s not just from the lack of rest. She watches you with dulled eyes, something like heartbreak reflecting in them.

For a long time, you pretend not to notice.

You pretend that you don’t see the way she lags behind, just watching you move away from her with speed she can’t quite manage any longer. You pretend that you don’t see the way she hesitates before taking her painkillers, or her food, or the last sip of water.

This year, the winter brings something worse than the cold. A bug, spreading across the state in a way that was familiar to so many. Not quite the Infection, but still able to take out people with ease.

When your mother catches it, you physically felt your heart clench in your chest. You felt it squeezing all of the blood around your body so quickly that you became dizzy with it. There’s a panic so deep that you can’t climb your way out of it. For days, weeks, you’re certain that you’ve lost her. That after everything, everything you’ve done, everything the two of you have been through, a cold would be the end of it all.

But then, she gets better.

The little strength she had before the sickness returns to her, bringing some colour back to her skin, some ease back to her breathing.

Religion wasn’t a thing in the apocalypse. Not really. But if you had believed in God, you would’ve thanked every one that might’ve existed for giving you this. This miracle. This small mercy.

The two of you are in an abandoned barn when it happens.

You’re dozing away, not quite asleep, but not awake either, when you hear the sound of old hay crunching underneath boots. If you weren’t so familiar with the lightness of your mother’s footsteps, you might’ve passed it off as her wandering. But these boots are heavy. They’re purposeful.

The gun in your hand means nothing when you jerk upwards, eyes snapping open and squinting through the light let into the barn by the rising winter sun. It’s an image that has since been ingrained into the back of your skull, replaying each time you close your eyes.

There, right in front of you, is your mother.

Behind her, a man, a gun pressed to the back of her skull.

Your stomach lurched suddenly in that moment, the small rationed dinner you had before dozing off trying to rise to the back of your throat, trying to race the rapid beating of your heart to see which would kill you first.

“Put down the gun.” He said, voice cold, throat dry from the winter air. The sound of his voice is printed in the base of your brain, echoing every time things around you still, go quiet.

He could be bluffing, you thought in the moment. His gun could be unloaded. It didn’t take you long to notice that the safety was off, but in those few moments, he had pressed the end of it harder into your mother’s head. You dropped the gun to the floor without another moment of thought.

You were nauseous, waiting to wake up, to realise this was all some twisted nightmare.

But you could see a look in your mother’s eyes. Acceptance. Defeat. It was almost familiar to you, so closely related to the look she had been giving you for months.

All this time, she had just been waiting to die. Waiting for something to come along and kill her off, to free you from having to take care of her. She knew that if it was up to you, that you would look after her for the rest of your goddamn life. If she lived any longer, she might just live long enough to see you die.

“Slide it over.”

You barely registered the cold pinch of metal against your palm as you pushed the gun away from you, sending it skittering over the rough ground and into the side of an old hay bale.

“Now your pack.”

There was a numbness to you as you gripped the backpack you had been leaning against, and chucked it towards where he stood behind your mother. It hit the front of his boot, but his eyes didn’t stray from where he stared at you.

“Turn around.”

You stared at him, teeth gritted together.

“No.”

There was a beat where both him and your mother just watched you. And then the surprise flickered across his face, apparently not expecting any resistance from you.

“Turn. Around.” He told you, firmer this time.

“No.”

“Okay then,” He relented, after a moment of consideration. His eyes drifted down towards your mother, who stared forwards at you. “This your daughter?” He asked, jerking his head towards you despite knowing your mother couldn’t see the movement.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother said, voice shaking, her breath clouding in front of her face as it reached the cold air. “Please, just let her be.”

He hummed, dropping his free hand down to rest heavily on your mother’s shoulder, his fingers clamping around it and not helping the way she trembled.

“So, your momma, huh?” He asked you, a smirk drawing up his face, showing smile lines around his murky blue eyes. His hair rustled in the wind, a piece falling down across his forehead. He stared at you, and you stared at him, not daring to say a word, still hoping that this whole thing was a dream. Muscles in his cheek twitched, pulling his skin taut and showing a scar across his left cheekbone. “Good.”

There was a moment where the sound didn’t register. A moment where you didn’t even realise it was your mother when the body slumped forwards. A mere moment where you didn’t think about it being her blood that splattered across your face.

The moments after that though, become blurry, hazed over, and you’re not sure it actually ever hit you that the body before you was your mother.

You’ve always had a hard time remembering that bodies were once people, that they once had lives and loved ones and thoughts and feelings. That they weren’t just bodies. So seeing her like that, as a body, not her, was wrong on so many levels. It didn’t feel real. Nothing did.

You heard the second gunshot, just a moment later, followed by a snickering laugh that you would never forget, before the pain bloomed in you.

It was buried by the shock, the complete disbelief, and you only felt the pain for mere seconds.

His gun — the one that killed your mother — was whacked across the side of your head a moment after, and that was the end of that.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Three months passed by, judging by the way the seasons turned, and you were on your own.

It was a strange feeling, really. Throughout the entirety of your life, you had never actually been alone. At least, not really. Your mother was always a small ways away, a mere shout from running to you. There had never been any true distance between the two of you until that day.

A sort of ache claws your throat each day, when you realise that it’s easier like this.

The only back you have to watch is your own, the only life you have to worry about belongs to you, and you have nothing to lose in this world. There was no terrible outcome if you were caught. Nobody else would be hurt, or suffer because of it. And you’re less likely to be caught now, when you don’t have your mother slowing you down. You don’t have to stop for the frequent rest breaks she needed, you can try to outrun Infected without worrying about someone lagging behind, and you only have yourself to feed.

If your mother had known how much easier survival was when alone, you hope that she would’ve abandoned you at birth. Because perhaps, without the burden of you upon her shoulders, she wouldn’t have fallen apart so quickly.

Sometimes, you like to think of a world where she was spared all of this. Never pregnant with you, for a start. So when the infection broke out, she would’ve only had herself to worry about. You think that maybe, one day, she would’ve been able to reunite with your father. If she hadn’t been carrying a child, she would’ve been able to manage the journey to where she believed him to be. You look at the picture that had been in the pocket of her coat for your whole life, the papers folded and clipped to the back of it, one word underlined: Boston.

You had reached a store in the weeks after that day, and when you found a map, it wasn’t difficult to notice that the direction the two of you had been heading in was to that very city.

It’s a long shot. More than a long shot, really, but you find yourself continuing in that direction regardless. You don’t know what you hope to find in Boston, whether it was your dad, or the man who had killed your mother, or perhaps just somewhere to take shelter for a while. You try not to hope for anything. You try not to focus on the fact that you might not even make it that far.

It keeps you up for days.

The uncertainty of it. The unknown. The fact that you’re walking your way to a city you know nothing about, almost certain that your mother’s killer was already there, and more than that, consumed by a fever that might kill you regardless of the where the journey took you.

The only sleep you get results in fever dreams, rippling, warping images that make your perception falter, feeling all too real until you notice that it’s not. And when you do wake up from them, it’s as if you haven’t slept at all. An exhaustion weighs heavily upon you, and your shoulders hunch over with it. There’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to get rid of that endless feeling.

You hope—or wish, maybe— that if you reach Boston, the journey there will have tired you out so much that your body will have no choice but to rest. It’s a distant thought in your mind, though. You’re almost certain you won’t make it that far, because if the fever doesn’t get you, surely the Infected will.

It’s not as though you’re trying to get killed. But there is a kind of peace that comes with the thought. There’s an idea of rest behind it, hiding within the shadowy depths that make you scared. Would not having to fight in order to survive really be so terrible? You have this image in mind, of a never ending blackness, a void, somewhere that your thoughts and worries can just fizzle away. The small part of your fever-fried brain that has retained its rationality reminds you of the unknown. It reminds you that death could be worse than this.

You don’t like the thought. Not after that day. It’s a shuddering feeling, wondering if your mother is in some kind of unreachable hell.

By the time you’re even close to Boston, a few hours out at most, you’re out of ammo in the gun you’d found along the way. Out of food rations. No knife, no resources. You’re barely standing on two legs, kept up by the adrenaline, the knowledge alone that you’re this close.

When the tall walls of the QZ finally come into view, you start to feel some amount of hope. Which is a dangerous thing, but especially in a situation as dire as your own. You couldn’t afford any adrenaline fading, couldn’t afford to lose your cautious nature. You couldn’t make a mistake. One wrong move, one slight misstep, and you’d be as dead as your mother. Or worse, infected. Though this close to a QZ, you had some amount of relief at the knowledge that they should’ve cleared out any nearby infected. Runners, and clickers alike.

Your steps don’t falter for a moment. Partly because of your worry about the fever taking you out, but mostly because you’re certain that the FEDRA guards on watch on top of the wall will have spotted you, and you don’t want them to think you’re Infected, just because of your sickly appearance, and shoot on sight. Though, with FEDRA’s track record, it wouldn’t surprise you if they just shot you down regardless.

For a while, you’re not sure if you’re even awake, or if perhaps you were stuck in yet another fever dream. Everything felt so real and so not real simultaneously, it felt impossible to believe that you had actually made it.

Soldiers met you on your approach, calling out for you to get on the ground with your hands up. You called back some sort of response as you did so, practically collapsing to your knees and squeezing your eyes shut at the pain that followed. But despite all of it, despite the pain and the rough hands that grabbed you and pulled you forwards, through the gates and straight into a building, you had made it to Boston.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was maybe three weeks into being a resident of the Boston QZ that you caught wind of him for the first time. Or, at the very least, somebody who might be him. You didn’t know how common the surname Miller was, being a child of the apocalypse, but you kind of hoped the answer was uncommon.

“Goddamn Miller, again.” A man had muttered as you walked through the trading market. You paused almost instantly, pretending to peruse the feeble amount of clothes a woman had to trade. “Said we gotta go through him and Tess if we want anything, as if we gotta listen to them.” He practically spat out, glaring around as he spoke to the woman beside him.

“They’re the most well established smugglers in the whole goddamn QZ. Don’t have to tell you how, do I?” She asked, sounding more annoyed with her companion than she was with whoever Miller and Tess were. “Joel is as nasty as they come, Darren. Don’t get on the wrong side of him.”

Your heart practically stuttered to a stop in your chest, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. Could it possibly be a coincidence? Could there be another Joel Miller? One who wasn’t your father? Sure, it was possible. Plausible, even, considering the fact that you had absolutely no idea if he was here. Not any concrete idea, anyway. Your mother had believed as much, but who was to say she was right?

Besides, whoever this Joel Miller was didn’t sound like the man your mother had told you about. As nasty as they come didn’t have any relation to the heroic and kind and amazing father and man your mother always spoke about. Though, you knew as well as anyone what the apocalypse could do to people.

Darren didn’t say anything else to his companion. So, after a few more moments, you continued on your way, making the journey to the tiny box apartment that FEDRA had elected to you.

But even as you got there, sitting down on the poor excuse of a mattress, you couldn’t shake the conversation out of your mind. After everything you had been through to get here, what was it all for? Could you really make this journey and just never try to find Joel Miller? Your father? You could still remember the anxiety that had come when you first arrived, when you were strapped into a chair and scanned for the fungus that had taken over so many. You didn’t know what you were more scared of: the idea that it would flash red, and you’d be killed, or the idea that it would be clear, and you’d be sent out into the QZ, where you may just find the other half of your DNA.

You don’t even know if you want to find out anything about him. Don’t know if you could face that, especially after losing your mother. That’s been the hardest thing since being here, since having your own place, the fact that you’ve gotten it all without her. It feels… empty. For your whole life, she had been there at your side, making every short stay at whatever accommodation you could find feel like home.

Plus, even if you did consider trying to find him, and if it was him those people were talking about, then who the hell was Tess? What if she got upset at your appearance, your claim as Joel Miller’s surviving child? You’re not sure you can lose another parent.

Sure — Joel Miller wasn’t exactly your dad, he couldn’t be classed as a parent in the way that your mother was, but if you never met him, that could’ve been for any number of reasons. He could be dead. He could’ve thought you and your mother were dead, all these years. You didn’t want to face a reality where you met him, and he wasn’t present for you and your mother because he didn’t want to be. You’d rather live your whole life thinking him six feet under, than know he was out there, and just didn’t care about you.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that Boston was a mistake.

It would all be different if your mother was alive. If she had brought you here, if she had been the one to hear the chatter about Joel Miller, if she had been the one to seek him out. But she was dead, and the only living connection you had to Joel was, too. Hypothetically, if you did seek him out, you didn’t know enough about him to prove your claim as his child, and without your mother, how could you make him believe you?

They had been a family, once. They being Joel, your mother, and your deceased half sister. You’d heard the tale of how Joel and your mother had met, of how it took months for him to finally feel comfortable introducing her to his little girl. Hell, you had heard almost as much about Sarah as you had about Joel. Your mother had certainly adored his daughter, and you’re somewhat sure that they had planned to have you, despite Sarah already being a teenager.

You don’t want to have to mourn a family you had never actually had. Perhaps, Joel and Sarah were out there, living their lives certain that you and your mother were dead, just as you and your mother had done.

Not that any of this even mattered — you didn’t even know for sure if it was the same Joel Miller! And even if it was, it’s not like Boston QZ was small. There’s absolutely no chance you run into the man who might just be your dad. No way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You find someone else, before you hear anything more about Joel Miller, and it immediately sends the thought of your biological dad to the very back of your mind.

After all, it’s not every day you see the man who murdered your mother.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise. You had guessed that this was the place he was heading, all those moons ago. But to actually see him, here, in the flesh, alive and well despite all of the pain and heartache and devastation he had caused you? It was surreal. You had to practically pinch your skin from your body to make yourself believe he was real.

And it only really hits you now, that this man killed your mother. You had been so focused on surviving, on living to see another day, on healing and moving and getting away from her body, buried in shallow dirt outside of some abandoned barn. You can vividly remember the strength it had taken to pry the frozen dirt from the ground.

Sure, you had felt the guilt over it, the guilt over the ease that came with surviving without her, guilt over your very existence, but you’re not sure you had ever actually grieved over her. Not sure if you had ever let yourself be sad, be angry, be anything about what had happened.

But now, seeing him, you feel… almost too much.

All of the rage and grief you had squashed in favour of surviving another day, all of the sadness and fear, all of it. It all comes rushing towards you at once, hitting you in the chest, winding you. You gasp for breath on the street, ducking away for a moment, gripping your chest like you could physically hold your heart steady.

When you look back out at the street, you see him as he nears the corner. Panic grips you at the thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, of failing to avenge your mother. You follow after him before you can think better of it.

It’s strangely easy. You fall back into the life of a hunter like it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever known — and maybe it is. You’re healed up, by now, or about as healed as anybody gets in this world, and your shoulder only bothers you when you move it too much. Even with that, you’re pretty sure that you could take the man on. Now that you’re not hazy with sleep, caught off guard, held back by any sort of earthly tether.

You’re strong. And despite FEDRA’s harsh reign, their dire consequences for rule-breaking, you have a switchblade stuffed into your shoe. You could do it. You could kill him.

There’s no question about it in your mind, especially as you follow him from a distance, and he remains none the wiser. He takes a left, and a moment later, so do you. He’s clueless. It’s almost painful that he was the one who managed to get the jump on you. How could you have let this man kill your mother?

He skids to a stop outside of a doorway, so you slide down the wall of the building opposite and listen. He pays you no mind as he knocks twice on the door.

“What d’you want, Colin?” The man who opened the door asked gruffly, seemingly inconvenienced by the man. He sounded tired, or out of it, maybe.

“I need the supply.” Colin answered, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down the back of your neck. It echoed in your ears, the words he said that day. Good. Everything in you itched, like thousands of critters had dug into you and made a home scuttling around your insides. You wanted to kill him. You wanted to end his life, and you wanted to make it slow. Brutal. Painful. Even if it meant you were hung by FEDRA tomorrow morning. It’d be worth it.

The man at the door sighed, as if deeply bothered by getting Colin what he needed, and disappeared inside. He emerged a moment later, empty handed. “I’m all out. You’ll have to go across town tomorrow.” The man said flatly, saying nothing as Colin swore, before stepping away.

You ducked your head down as Colin passed, all too aware of the man in the doorway watching you suspiciously. After a moment, he sighed again, and retreated inside, slamming the door after himself. It took almost no time at all for you to push yourself back to your feet, and take off after the man who had left.

Despite your pounding footsteps against cracked concrete, he didn’t pay you any mind as you caught up to him. He seemed focused on getting to wherever it was that he was unknowingly leading you to, glancing up at the darkening sky every other step. FEDRA’s curfew would be coming into play soon enough.

To your disappointment, he walked into an apartment building, about three blocks away from your own. It seemed that, unless you were willing to risk being caught and stopped, today wasn’t the day you would be avenging your mother. You vowed that tomorrow you would do it. You would kill Colin. No matter what got in your way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

By the time curfew was lifted, you had been waiting by the exit of your building for an hour.

The switchblade in your shoe felt heavy with every step you took towards the home of your mother’s killer. It weighed almost as much as the picture in your pocket. All of it was heavy. But you acted as normally as you could manage, passing by patrolling FEDRA guards without them so much as glancing towards you.

You were waiting by his building when the door opened, when he stepped out, and headed determinedly in the opposite direction from which you had come. You followed without a moment of hesitation.

He made his way around town, trading with a few people on the side of the streets, handing them small wads of ration cards in favour of various items. Nothing dangerous, though. Not to you. He clearly was oblivious to your loitering figure, standing a few metres away, like some omen of death. Despite your shadow reaching for his shoes as the sun rose, he didn’t flinch.

It was irritating you, just how easy this was. You had been following the man for two days now, and he hadn’t even noticed. How had he gotten the drop on you? How had he managed to kill your mother? How had you allowed him the opportunity to do so?

There was nothing remotely special about him — no reason that he should have survived over your mother, no reason that he should have been granted mercy over the last twenty years. He didn’t deserve it. Not like your mother had. She had done the best she could, for years, for the only daughter in her care. And she had done it all alone. This man, Colin, he was alone, and he had no reason to hurt her. You were going to make sure he regretted it.

You loomed at the entrance of an alleyway as he walked down it, finally stopping at a dead end, leaning against the brick wall as if he was waiting for something. Or someone. You knew it wasn’t you he was waiting for, so you bided your time, cautious of someone happening upon the two of you. If they had business with him, they would care. If they didn’t, then nobody but FEDRA would care.

By the time you finally decided to move, almost an hour had passed, and Colin was facing away from you at the entrance of the alley, head pressed to the bricks.

It was strange, what the innate desire to hunt and kill could bring out in you, that it could make you move silently without thinking about it. It could make you reach for the blade in your shoe, without so much as a rustle of your clothes.

With a final glance back at the entrance of the alleyway, you grew impatient, and you attacked.

From an outside perspective, you probably looked like some kind of wild animal. You jumped at him, tackling him, pushing him sideways and landing on his back as his shoulder smacked the asphalt, and he howled in pain. It was like seeing a cheetah hunt an antelope, the way you bored down on him. If you could have widened your jaws, and ripped out his insides, you think you would have.

But without that ability, you could only press the cold metal blade to his throat, and feel him go still.

“Do you remember me?” You asked, voice flat and still, despite the way your heart felt as though it would beat out of your chest, and splatter down in front of his face. You were quieter than you had expected, too. You thought that the words would burst out of you, vicious and unending, but they were quiet. Calm.

Colin shook his head, as much as he could with the side of his face pressed to the ground, and a blade to the soft skin of his neck.

“Think about it.”

His eyes strained to try and get a look at you, and they widened as you leant sideways slightly, allowing him to gaze at your blank face. “Oh, shit,” He said, mouth fumbling around the words.

“Yeah, shit.” You repeated, waiting for satisfaction to seep into your chest cavity, waiting for the grief to fade away.

It didn’t.

Nothing changed, even as you pressed the blade closer to his throat, even as you watched his eyes dart back and forth, as you watched him try and formulate a plan to survive. “Listen, kid—” He started, throat bobbing against the knife, drawing the tiniest line of blood. You watched him bleed, and expected to feel more than numb.

He threw your weight backwards, sacrificing more skin on his throat to your knife. You went flying off of him, but you flung yourself forward faster than he could stagger up, and dug the knife into his calf as he tried to stand. His yell pierced the air, louder than any of the commotion yet, and likely drawing attention of people out on the street. You just hoped, distantly, that FEDRA wasn’t around.

His flesh and muscle moved as you pulled the blade free, and you didn’t flinch at the squelch of blood that left him alongside it.

Colin fell back to the floor, resulting in crawling along the asphalt without care for how the small stones cut into his palms, leaving streaks of blood. “You don’t gotta do this, man, chill out!” His voice had more emotion in it than it had back when he killed your mother, which was infuriating. “It wasn’t personal!” He insisted, crawling further as you got to your feet, prowling after him similarly to the wild animal you felt like.

You’d disagree with his statement, though.

He already had your pack, you had already relinquished your gun — the only thing you refused to do was turn so you could be executed. If you were going to be killed, you were going to look your murderer in the eye. Instead of that, though, Colin had decided to make it personal. He had decided to kill your mother, to spread her brains out on the ground in front of you, to cover you in her blood, rather than spare her. And then, worse, he had let you live.

That seemed pretty personal.

“You killed my mom.” You stated, getting closer as he turned so he was facing you, watching you get closer. “D’you remember what you said to me?”

He shook his head.

“You said good. You were glad that it was my mother. Admit it, Colin. Tell the world all about how not-personal it was.”

More than anything, you wanted to feel satisfaction for how badly he was trembling beneath you, for how scared you were making him. But you just didn’t. Fear wasn’t enough. Not for what this man had done to you.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” He said, shaking, still shying away from you,

“No, you’re not. You’re sorry that I’m here, that you’re going to die. And that isn’t something to be sorry for.”

“Pl—Please, I have a daughter—a son, you don’t need to do this.” He begged, tearing up as he watched your grip on the switchblade tighten, watched you continue to approach. He was pathetic. Everything about him was pathetic.

“She had a daughter, too.”

His eyes widened as you leaped at him once again, digging your knife as deep as you could get it into his shoulder, feeling it graze bone as you pushed the hilt firmly against his skin, until you could practically hear the blood vessels breaking. He howled, a wounded animal, prey. And he did nothing as your fist descended against his face, once, twice, a third time.

It was just as you were losing count that somebody grabbed you, hauling you up and away from the body sprawled out on the floor, the puddle of blood slowly expanding beneath him. His chest was stuttering, but he had stopped groaning minutes ago.

“Well, shit.” A woman’s voice said, not sounding particularly authoritarian, so you figured she wasn’t FEDRA.

The hands grasping onto your arms released them shortly after, and you dropped to the asphalt, watching Colin’s chest closely, waiting for his breathing to stop. It didn’t seem to be slowing much, and you could feel that unending wave of rage coming back to you, overruling the numbness, and enhancing your need to have him dead.

You moved the slightest bit, about to launch yourself at him, but as soon as your foot was pushing you from your spot on the ground, the hands wrapped around your arms again.

“Fuck! Get off of me!”

“We can’t let you kill the guy, for fuck’s sake. We got business with him!” The woman spoke again, sounding increasingly irate as she moved to get between you and your mother’s murderer.

“He deserves to die. He deserves to be killed. Get off!” You practically roared, resorting to a state not unlike a feral cat, spitting and hissing, spine curling, trying to claw at the hands holding onto you. They stayed steady, even when you managed to scratch one of them deep enough to break skin.

The woman swore again, “Everybody deserves to die, get a hold of yourself!”

“Tess, ‘s probably best if we get him out of here.” The man gripping you said, voice straining slightly as he focused on keeping you restrained. He couldn’t do anything but hold on to you and watch as Tess dragged the guy, by his ankle, down the alley slightly, banging on a side door that you hadn’t even noticed. It opened, and the man inside swore before helping Tess grab the guy and haul him inside.

As soon as the door was safely shut, the man released you.

You walked to the end of the alley, gripping at the back of your head, swearing the whole way. You were probably screaming, given the way your throat was grating on every word, but the sound didn’t register.

“Joel, you’d better get in here.” Tess called, poking her head out of the door. You could hear the irritation in her voice, but it was immediately sent to the back of your mind as you realised what she had actually just said. You whirled around.

He wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

But he was… familiar.

You couldn’t help it — you laughed, almost hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” You said, voice strained with laughter, “You are Joel? Miller?” You asked, wanting him to say no and be done with it all so badly, but you knew that he wouldn’t say that. It was ingrained in your blood, in your very DNA.

He stared uncomprehendingly at you, as if expecting a spark of recognition to go through him, but it didn’t happen. You saw Tess step cautiously out of the building, apparently prepared to have Joel’s back, no matter what your next move was.

“Who are you?” Joel asked, instead of answering your question, or even making a move towards where you had begun to cry. If only he fucking knew — he had just saved the man who had murdered your mother, who had murdered the woman who was, once upon a time, his wife.

You reached into your pocket, uncaring of the way they both reached for what you assumed were weapons, and pulled out the photo. The moment you unfolded it, revealing him stood next to your mother, it was certain. This man was your father. You held the photo out towards him.

“Joel—” Tess warned, as he stepped forward, but he dismissed her with a look, clearly communicating that he could handle himself. He wasn’t worried, despite the state Colin had been in when they had arrived.

He stared at the photo, brows creasing, face drawing blank, before he reached out and took it. His finger ran across the image of your mother, her bright smile, not a slither of grey to be seen in her hair. “How did you get this?” He asked, clearly in disbelief, denial, maybe.

You pointed to the woman in the picture. “That’s—was my mom.”

It could’ve been funny, months, maybe years ago, the way his eyes flickered between you and the image of her, as if trying to put together how much of the statement was true. You vaguely noticed Tess shift uneasily behind him, before approaching.

“Was?” Joel decided to ask, eventually, instead of whatever else was going through his head. He said nothing to Tess as she took in the photograph he was still holding onto.

“That man, he—he killed her. A few months ago.” You said, smiling, because you couldn’t do anything else. This was all too much. First, your mother is killed. And then when you finally find somewhere potentially safe, you hear about your father. And then before you could do anything about that, you see her killer! And then, before you could finish the job, your biological dad, Joel Miller, saved his life. It wasn’t funny, but you didn’t know how else to react.

You stepped back, sliding down the brick wall behind you until you were sat on the asphalt, and could hang your head between your knees.

“Oh fuck,” Tess said, connecting the dots as she looked between you and Joel rapidly, brows furrowed as she became increasingly concerned. “Don’t tell me that she’s—” She shook her head, turning away from the photo and Joel and you, running a hand through her greasy hair.

Joel was still processing, or at least that’s what it looked like to you. He was staring at the photo, strangely still, seeming blank of any and all emotions.

Tess paced for a moment more, before releasing a heavy breath. She walked past Joel, over to you. “Okay, c’mon.” She said, holding out a hand for you. When you hesitated, she waved her hand and barely refrained from putting it in your face. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get you out of here before Colin goes to FEDRA.” You take her hand, surprised by her strength as she hauls you to your feet in an instant, releasing you immediately. She shook her head again. “Joel, time to go.”

He looked at her, and then towards you, nodding once. You said nothing when he put the picture in his own pocket, instead of handing it back. You hesitantly followed after Tess, wondering what your next move should be, and Joel followed after the two of you, looking stricken.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

None of you had said anything, the entire time Tess had hurried you through borders and to what you assumed was their apartment. It felt like it was miles away from your own.

The wallpaper was yellowed with age, slowly drooping down the walls, peeling away at corners, but it wasn’t the worst state it could’ve been in. The floral pattern didn’t really lend itself to the vibes of the apocalypse, though. Nor did it match either Tess or Joel’s stoic and tough demeanours.

You had no idea what to expect from this.

For as long as you could remember, your mother had told you tales of your father, of the great man he was, the great father he was. But here, on the other side of a worldwide outbreak of infection, you couldn’t quite match the image in front of you to the man in those stories. You had spent so long thinking of him as being dead, unable to do anything to find you or your mother from a grave, that to learn he was alive, and with Tess, it was a shock to your system.

Where was Sarah? Where was the half-sister you had heard so much about from your mother?

Despite Joel matching the name, and the photo that your mother had kept, it just didn’t feel like he was the man you had been imagining as your father. He didn’t seem kind or caring, he didn’t look like he had any love left in him. And maybe, you could have accepted that, if he had other aspects to him, if he hadn’t let your mother’s killer live.

“What happened the day of the outbreak?” You asked, finally, despite the way you ached to run away and cry, for your mother, for yourself, for the father you would never have. Joel just looked at you, rarely blinking as if you were a figment of his imagination, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“No, we are asking you questions.” Tess responded, clearly taking the lead on the situation, despite having no connection to you. It really shouldn’t have been her business. You scoffed. “Where did you come from?” She asked you, unblinking in the face of your disbelief.

You shook your head, “How is that even relevant?”

“Because I said it is.”

“I don’t care what you say. He’s my dad. You’re not my mom.” You replied, roughly, angrily, and you’re only more irritated when Tess doesn’t even react. You become furious when Joel says nothing. “Are you going to say anything?”

Tess went to speak, but you spoke again before she could utter a word.

“Not even about how you let my mother’s killer go? You don’t have anything to say about that?” You questioned, stepping towards him where he had taken a seat on the couch in front of that god-forsaken wallpaper.

There was an awkward lull in the room, each of you waiting for Joel to speak. He seemed unsure if he was going to speak at all, his brows furrowing further, and he pulled the photo out of his pocket to look at once again.

“She died, years ago. My—my kids…” Joel swallowed, and shook his head. He placed the photo down beside him. The photo meant nothing. You could’ve been to his house, and brought it here with you, never having met the woman he hadn’t seen since the day the world fell apart.

“Did you even look for us?” You asked him, head tilting, eyes stinging, wanting desperately for him to say yes, to say he scoured the world but missed you somehow. But looking at him, covered with scars, you could see he was nothing like the man your mother remembered. He didn’t care, not like she thought he had. The man in front of you wasn’t your father — he was a disappointment. He was your father’s shell.

Joel didn’t speak, swallowing harshly, seemingly unable to form any words.

“You’re nothing like she said you were.” You told him quietly, shaking your head, reaching by his side and taking the picture. You wanted to rip his half off, throw it at him, denounce him, tell him he wasn’t your father, that he was never worthy of your mother, but you couldn’t. It was the only thing that you would ever have of the father you should’ve had. The man your mother had loved. She’d already had so much taken from her, you couldn’t, even after her death, take Joel away too. He could live on in the memory. In pictures.

They didn’t say anything when you turned your back on them, shoving the picture in your pocket, and walking out of their door. You slammed it behind you, felt the walls of their apartment tremble with the force, and kept walking.

Part of you, a big part, wished that Joel Miller would have stayed dead. At least that way, you could have kept pretending.

[fungateshortcakes]

It was nice while it lasted

My (now ex) best friend just ended our four year friendship, said she didn't see any future in it because we weren't chatting as much as we used to. She was my best friend, but i wasn't hers. I probably haven't been for a while. My birthday is this sunday and I wished she hadn't done this just two days before my birthday. I need comfort, so here is a short Logan drabble♡

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant!reader

Wordcount: 1k-ish, maybe a bit less

Warnings: english isn't my first language, none, just fluff, and a bit angst, friends to lovers, implied chubby reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You sniffled quietly as you looked down at your bright phone screen. I'd like to break off contact. You read it over and over again. You had hoped you would never have to see these words, not with her. You were so stupid to think that your friendship would get repaired somehow.

You lived at the x men mansion, she lived far away in another city. So meeting each other was rare. The first time you met, she slept over in the mansion. Everyone liked her and you both had a great time. You would have done everything to get that back, that time, these moments when everything seemed like it was just how it was supposed to be.

After she finally found a job after searching for months, everything changed. She didn't answer your texts anymore, only if you were lucky. You tried to reach for her, tried to talk to her. But her replies were sparse and often dry. Said it was because she didn't know how to answer your texts and that she was so tired every day from work.

You tried to be understanding, tried to reassure her that it was alright. But when you saw pics of another girl on her instagram and later some random guy that turned out to be her new boyfriend, you felt it. That ache. You weren't her best friend any more. She could easily live without you. You were the only one suffering. You needed her, but she didn't need you.

You sat on your bed, wiping your tears. Why were you so damn stupid, you should have seen it coming. You were no ones favourite, you never have been. You weren't the number one for anybody, no one would chose you in a room full of people. You knew that, and that hurt.

Suddenly, the door to your room opened. It was Logan, he had a plate loaded with your favourite food in hand. He wasn't looking at you yet. "I got you some food, bub. Why weren't you down for dinner-" he started to ask but as he lifted his head and saw your tear stained face, his brows knitted together on his handsome face and he strided over to you with purpose, putting the plate on your beside table. "What's going on, bub?" He asked in the softest voice he could muster.

Your voice was hoarse and you just couldn't get a word out. He climbed into bed with you, sitting next to you and wrapping one arm around your shoulder to pull you against his side, his head on top of yours as he let you cry and shake in his arms. He wore that grey oversized sweater with nothing underneath. The fabric was so soft under your cheek. And so warm, smelling like him. You shoved your unrequited feelings aside, trying to calm your racing heart as he hugged you.

As Logan let you sob, his gaze shifted to your phone that laid abandoned on the sheets. I'd like to break off contact. He read the name over the chat and it dawned on him. He didn't need more information to know exactly what happened. You had always talked about your best friend and he had even met her one time. She was decent back then, but you would always come to him to vent when your best friend did something that hurt you. He had always told you to drop her, that she wasn't good for you, that you had so many friends and people that actually loved you around you every day. With people he meant himself. He loved you so much but never spoke up.

There was a time where he thought you and your best friend were together. Back then you'd get that question a lot because you were just that close. He was a bit salty about it and secretly hoped you would break up. When he found out you weren't actually together, he was awfully happy about it, a kick in his step.

As bad as it sounded, he was glad that the horror was finally over. He had witnessed your mental health worsen every time you beat yourself up over your best friend. He was frustrated when you blamed everything on yourself and wouldn’t see how bad she was for you. Still, he understood your tears. There had been a time where she really was your best friend and you loved her, you could tell her anything back then. And that was the version of her that you missed, the version you still held onto.

"I know this sounds rough, but you are better off without her" he mumbled against your temple, planting an experimental kiss there. As you didn't back away, he saw it as an invitation to leave his lips pressed against the side of your head. You hiccuped, nuzzling even further into him. "Why...why does it always happen to me? Why can't I keep friends, why do I always get so attached when I am worth nothing for the other person?" you questioned, voice thick from the tears. "All I want is to be loved by someone just as much as I love them" you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, but it didn't seem to budge.

He loved you. He loved you like you loved him. He did, so badly. But both of you didn't know. And it was eating you up inside.

You pulled back to look into his eyes "Am I unloveable, Logan? Don't lie to make me feel better" you asked him. You always told you that you couldn't be loved. But slowly you really started to believe it. I mean, who could possibly love someone like you? You were chubby, pretty introverted and didn't dress like the average. You had been bullied all your life for your looks, your personality and your mutation. The fat funny friend is who you were, the one that got asked out as a joke and was told, that they couldn't imagine you in a relationship. It was something you never truly learned to live with. You tried to hold onto the illusion that was love, hoped that one day it would find you like in the sappy romance movies you watched. You doubted it.

Your question hit Logan like a ton of bricks. "Unloveable? Are you even hearing yourself?" He asked and you had never seen him this shocked. You couldn't understand why. You had expected him to agree with you, allthough you never wanted to hear that from him.

Ever so gently, he held your soft face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his strong thumb. "You are the most easiest person to love, trust me on that"

Unbelieving, you shook your head. "I said don't lie-" you started but he shushed you quickly, your head secure in his grip as he forced you to look at him. "Look into my eyes and tell me that I am lying. Come on. Say it" he urged you on, his gaze intense and burning that it took your breath away, silencing any words you might have had. Even though you didn't correct him, he knew you weren't believing him.

He sighed, it would take a while to get all these insecurities out of your head. And your heart. But you were worth that effort.

"Let me show you just how much I love you" he mumbled before your heart threatened to jump out of your chest as his lips landed on yours. It was everything you had ever hoped it would be and you could almost not believe that this was real, that you weren't dreaming.

Pulling away, more tears spilled over your cheeks and Logan panicked. "Oh- shit, I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me" he coughed, his neck burning red in embarrassement. He was taking advantage of you, wasn’t he?

But before he could slide off your bed, you pulled at his sleeve. "No, no, it was alright. You couldn't have reacted any better" you giggled through your tears. His breath hitched as you zipped down his hoodie to snuggle against his warm, bare chest. You could feel his heartbeat quicken underneath your ear, though Logan quickly eased against the contact.

He zipped his hoodie back up behind you, keeping you close to him as you cuddled and kissed on your bed with this newfound information of you both having pinned for each other for years. You felt warm and safe and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything would be okay.

As long as he was with you.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This was painful to write and incredibly personal in some aspects. I know that this probably won't gain as much attention because of that, as it may not be relatable for most.

But still, if you are going through something similiar, you aren't alone. There are many people that struggle, that feel this way about themselves. And while knowing that this doesn't really sooth the ache, it will get better. One day. I hope.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [23] - Curiosity

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Relatives tend to pry.

Word Count: 2400

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of period, mentions of pregnancy. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“Charm, I have a question.”

You applied your lipstick, completely focused on your reflection in the mirror. “Hm?”

“Why do we keep having dinners with people we hate?”

You scoffed a laugh, then put the cap back on the lipstick before turning to Bucky.

“I wouldn’t say I hate my aunt,” you said. “I hate her son, not her. She’s just…”

“What?”

“Annoying.”

“I’ll rephrase my question, why do we keep having dinners with annoying people?”

You leaned back to the vanity. “Because we have complicated families, Bucky. I know it’s news for you.”

His phone vibrated and he read the text before typing in his reply.

“I have this thing—”

“Don’t even fucking try it!” you cut him off. “We’re married dickhead, you’re going to suffer with me. It’s on the prenup.”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him. “I have this thing tomorrow so I’ll have no time for lunch after the therapist—did you seriously put I’d suffer with you on the prenup?”

“Figuratively.”

He shot you a grin. “We’re the best married couple I know.”

You tried to hide your smile by pursing your lips together and turned around, then leaned in to check yourself in the mirror again, pretending to fix your lipstick. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky eyeing you up and down, his intense gaze sending a shiver down your spine and you arched a brow.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’d better not say it,” you warned him and he chuckled.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s just that…”

“Bucky.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Something tells me beautiful wasn’t the word in your mind.”

“Sweetheart,” he said. “You’re basically bent over in front of a mirror in that dress, there are so many things in my mind.”

You straightened your back to shoot him a look and he held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“You asked.”

“Can you perhaps be less horny when we’re about to have dinner with my family?”

“I’ll try.”

“Much appreciated,” you deadpanned as you walked past him, with him following you behind out of the apartment. You pressed the button on the elevator, then took a deep breath.

“We’re not shooting or threatening anyone tonight,” you said and Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you telling me or yourself that?”

You clicked your tongue. “Both.”

                                            *

You had never really liked spending time with your aunt even before your father started pitting you and Ian against each other for the heir position. At least she was never really around when you were growing up, even after Ian moved in with you, but she liked dropping by in the town from time to time.

And commenting on literally anything about you, from your relationships to how you looked.

Your aunt wasn’t even the only reason why this dinner was probably going to be tense as hell. Bucky was still furious at your father for the shit he pulled back at that dinner with the other families, so now you had to make sure no one started any fights while adamantly ignoring whatever your aunt would say to you.

Lovely.

“You must tell me all about the wedding!” your aunt said. “Starting with before it, actually. How did this—” she motioned between you and Bucky. “happen?”

Bucky gave her a charming smile.

“Well I suppose I managed to convince her,” he said. “Or after a while she got bored of rejecting me?”

“Reject you?” your aunt asked with a laugh. “Oh I can’t be the only one who remembers how she used to follow you around like a puppy, Y/N you were so adorable with that little schoolgirl crush!”

You stared at her for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, then I grew up and grew out of it.”

“Obviously not, sweetheart,” your father said, making Ian bite down a smirk and you gritted your teeth, the memory of Bucky turning you down that night flashing before your eyes.

What was it, he had called you?

Daddy’s spoiled whiny princess.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Bucky said with a boyish grin and you reached out to grab your glass to take a sip of your wine.

Despite everything, despite you and Bucky getting along well nowadays, you still couldn’t shake off the resentment of that night. The anger, how pathetic he made you feel, it was still there even after years, but you frowned slightly, trying to focus.

“I suppose I should have seen this coming, there was this one time,” your aunt said with a laugh. “Back when you were in high school, I found your diary, do you remember?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I remember you reading it, yeah.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe!” your aunt said. “What with you sneaking out of the house at night, I was almost positive you had a bad influence boyfriend. That’s what your mother would have wanted, God rest her soul, for someone to keep an eye on you.”

Your father heaved a sigh, taking a sip of his wine at the mention of your mother and you raised your brows.

“Anyways, I didn’t have anything to worry about—”

“Auntie,” you said warningly and she waved a hand in the air.

“Oh it was years ago Y/N, get over it—pages and pages about you,” she told him as the pins and needles of embarrassment sunk into your cheeks while a cocky smile curled Bucky’s lips.

“Seriously?”

“I swear,” your aunt said and Ian hummed.

“I remember that fight.”

“Yeah that’s what happens when someone invades someone’s privacy,” you said, forcing yourself not to look at Bucky who looked very pleased with himself for some reason. Your aunt let out a small laugh.

“We’re family,” she said. “These things happen.”

“Did you read Ian’s diary as well?”

“I didn’t keep a diary.”

“And it was years ago,” your father said. “Let’s not have the same fight again, hm? Because the last I remember, you threw multiple vases at the wall during that fight sweetheart.”

You bit at your tongue and cleared your throat.

“How was Monaco?” you tried to change the subject and your aunt shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s a long story,” she said. “But there’s no place like home, that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Another break up?” you asked her and she narrowed her eyes, but unsurprisingly, the men around the table missed the curt glare you two threw at each other.

“Can’t I be back because I miss you all?” your aunt asked after a beat. “I would’ve been here for the wedding as well if you two hadn’t rushed it.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” your father said and she nodded.

“Honestly, with how rushed it was I told your father perhaps it was because there was something to rush about. There isn’t though, is there? I mean you’re drinking.”

You forced yourself to smile, then shook your head. “No.”

Bucky frowned, looking between you two before a look of realization dawned on his face.

“Ah no,” he said. “That’s not why. To be fair, rushing was kind of my fault. I’ve been in love with her forever, so I didn’t want to wait any longer. Thankfully she agreed.”

“And when can we expect that?” your aunt asked with a smile and Bucky choked on his wine before clearing his throat.

“Hm?”

“Not for a very long time,” you said and your father nodded with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“I’m too young to be a grandfather, Nora.”

“Oh nonsense,” she told him. “You know what this business is like, and they’re in love! Obviously they want babies if they rushed the wedding. Have you two talked about how many yet?”

“I’m sorry, how many?” you repeated and she nodded.

“It’s good to be clear about the future, no? And Y/N once said she wanted two so Bucky, how many?”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat again.

“Uh…babies?”

“No, guns,” your aunt said with a laugh. “Of course babies!”

Bucky shot you a look as if begging you for help and you sat up straighter.

“That’s not in our plans right now.”

“But in the future?” your aunt insisted. “I mean surely you must have a number in mind.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, stealing a look at you. “Like um, like four maybe?”

You gawked at him. “I’m sorry, did you just say four?”

Bucky nodded his head.

“Yeah because you know, big family would be nice.”

“You—you do realize that for someone to have four kids, they’d have to spend three years as pregnant in total?” you asked him. “It’s basic math.”

“You want two, he wants four, three seems to be the perfect number,” your aunt joked and your father ran a hand over his face.

“They’ve just gotten married,” he reminded her. “It’s too early to talk about all that. More wine?”

You knew you and Bucky’s marriage was a sham and that you’d get a divorce as soon as you took over, but what you didn’t know was why exactly imagining Bucky having babies with someone else in his second marriage bothered you this much. The mere image was enough to churn your stomach, anger shooting through your system for some reason and you pursed your lips together, then held out your wine glass as well.

“Yes please.”

                                             *

Alright, this was getting ridiculous.

Even you knew that you were throwing a fit out of nowhere, but that did nothing to calm you down. Ever since last night, your head was full of the image of Bucky having the picture-perfect family after your divorce, so you had been in a particularly cranky mood since then. You had barely said two words to him when you came home, going straight to bed and when you woke up, you were still sulking.

Bucky had asked you what was going on multiple times, you had no idea how to explain the fact that you didn’t want him to have perfect babies and be perfectly happy with a perfect woman in a perfect marriage without sounding selfish.

Which, in all honesty was incredibly selfish.

So when the psychiatrist sat down in front of you two, it took her a couple of seconds of complete silence to motion between you two.

“I’m sensing a bit of tension?”

“You and me both,” Bucky said. “I have zero idea why. Charm?”

You narrowed your eyes, then crossed your arms.

“He has a housewife kink.”

“Whoa!” Bucky exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “What?!”

“I’m guessing you haven’t talked about kinks before then?”

“Well, it was news to me.”

“It’s also news to me!” Bucky told you. “Charm, what the fuck?”

“Sex is a huge part of—”

“Sex is fine,” Bucky told Dr. Raynor before turning to you. “What’s going on?”

“If you want someone who’s gonna—who’s gonna—” you couldn’t help but stammer. “Like, stay in a cottage and bake pies, it's fine if she wants to, everyone has their own goals but I'm not that person and—”

“What are you even talking about?!”

“Alright, let’s take a breather,” Dr. Raynor said. “How would you describe your sex life, Bucky?”

“I would not.”

“Y/N.”

“It has nothing to do with sex, it has everything to do with the fact that he wants four babies.”

“What does it even matter?” Bucky asked you and you let out a scoff.

“It just does,” you told him. “First you pushed me out of the picture with Anna, and now I find out—”

“Jesus Christ, we talked about this!”

“Who’s Anna?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you told Dr. Raynor with a forced smile. “His new employee that he decided to hire even if I was told I would be involved in every single business decision and if you ask Bucky, it’s totally coincidental. Even if she’s hot as fuck.”

“Are you on your period or something?” Bucky asked you and your jaw dropped, fury shooting through you.

“Excuse you?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s the only explanation I can think of for this nonsense.”

“Don’t ever ask me if I’m on my period again or I—”

“Let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said. “May I ask what brought this on?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bucky deadpanned, glaring at you and you took a deep breath.

“We had a deal before we got married,” you told her. “About me being involved in the business decisions.”

“It’s not even a big business decision for God’s sake,” Bucky said. “I told you before, it’s a trial period with Anna, that’s all.”

“And this…housewife kink?” Dr. Raynor said and Bucky rolled his eyes again.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” he said. “What does it matter, Charm? Hm? Considering the deal?”

You gritted your teeth and stole a look at Dr. Raynor before scoffing.

“I just don’t want to be pushed out of the picture when you find the person whom you want to have four babies with, alright?”

“Do you think you’ll get a divorce?” Dr. Raynor asked and you shifted your weight.

“Well, that’s always a possibility.”

Dr. Raynor frowned and Bucky gritted his teeth, an annoyed grin curling his lips before he clicked his tongue.

“No one is pushing you out of the picture, Charm.”

“I think we should talk about this insecurity though,” Dr. Raynor said and you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not insecure,” you said, your voice going a pitch higher. “I’m just saying like…I don’t want four babies.”

“And is this a deal breaker for you, Bucky?”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck,” Bucky said. “I was just speaking hypothetically, and before you ask again, she was the one who came up with that whole housewife kink thing—you have an actual kink for medieval knights, I’m not saying anything about that.”

“I don’t have a kink for medieval knights!”

“Do you mind if I give you both homework?” Dr. Raynor cut off your bickering. “How many times a week do you have sex?”

You and Bucky stared at each other before turning to her.

“Uh—” Bucky cleared his throat. “Charm?”

“Couple times?” you said like a question and Dr. Raynor hummed.

“I want you both to keep an intimacy journal.”

Bucky gawked at her. “Sorry, what?”

“An intimacy journal,” she said. “I want you both to write down how sex affects your communication and dynamic, how it feels before, during and after, and before the week is over, you will try one fantasy you’re both comfortable with, and write about how it made you feel.”

Bucky threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose and you nodded slowly, shifting your weight on the couch.

“Sex journal,” you muttered. “Wonderful.”

Chapter 24

[lucifers-rubber-duck]

Was wandering how the crew would react to a reader with animalistic beahavior (reader that acts like an animal something).

Like how a dog would be possessive of smt, tounge hanging out, suddenly extremely happy, or like a cat doing long stretches and sleeping in small conners.

P.S this is my first request and I really like your format of writing, keep up the good work 👍.(if you don't want to do this I completely understand, it is a rather strange request so no need to fell bad😗)

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel, Niffty, Sir Pentious & Lucifer

Warnings: None.

A/N: That's a totally fine request! I'm glad you like my writing :} Thanks for the ask Anon and sorry for taking so long.

𖤓Charlie

• Finds you adorable, she enjoys your shenanigans and makes sure that you don't feel ashamed by them, it's something you can't control.

• She has experience with taking care of pets, like Kiki, Razzle and Dazzle; so she totally would make the space around you comfortable for you to act the way you want. I also think that Kiki would sometimes hiss at you for no reason but Charlie is trying her best to make Kiki like you more.

• She would ask if you were okay with her petting you sometimes, she's not malicious or anything, she just truly loves seeing how your face would immediately soften with her touch.

• Likes when you sleep close to her, all curled up in couch or in bed, your presence helps her relax when she ends up too stressed trying to make the hotel work.

𖤓Vaggie

• She's not the biggest animal enjoyer but wouldn't mind you doing your own thing. She does have some experience since she helped Charlie take care of her own pets but watching someone that was previously a human act like that makes her side-eye a few of your actions.

• Would be more helpful if your demon form is similar to a bird, if you had wings she would offer herself to peel your feathers and clean them up so you don't have to do it alone. She was a angel before and had to do the same things but she won't tell you that part.

• You would end up scaring her sometimes tho, she would be going down stairs to grab some water and she would see your figure just down the hall, eyes shining in the shadows as your head quickly turned to look at her, making it even more creepy. She stares at you for a few moments before slowly going back up without her water.

• That would keep happening until she just got used to it and started having midnight snacks with you, even falling asleep with you curled up around her in the couch, she suffers from insomnia and your presence makes her fall asleep easier, but she always wakes up earlier than you so you're always alone in the couch by the morning.

• Stills thanks you thought, in a way no one hears, she's too embarrassed to admit to everyone she has trouble sleeping but you don't mind keeping it a secret, especially when she's being way nicer to you.

𖤓Alastor

• Finds you amusing, I imagine him being rather surprised when he first saw you demonstrate your more animal side, probably thinking at first that you were stupid or something.

• He already likes to mess with Husker, treating him like an actual pet so you would be no different, you may not own your soul to him but living under the same roof means having to deal with his annoying treatment towards you.

• Would pull you around with him and present you to people as if you were his actual pet, ordering you around and making you fetch things for him. And he always talks with you in the most forced cute voice ever, now you get why Husker hates this guy.

• If you ever try to intimidate him by pretending you're going to bite him or something along those lines he'll simply give you a stern look and a slightly more forced smile before saying something along the lines of “What a fiesty one.”. To put it simple, he likes to make your life miserable and there's no way to get rid of him.

𖤓Husker

• He's also technically a animal, he looks more like a cat than he looks human at least and had to deal with controlling his instincts as well, he understand your struggles and will be there to help you control them.

• If your sinner form was more cat-like than he would find it easier to teach you but has advices for other animal related demon forms as well, he makes sure you feel good with yourself.

• But a few of his own animal behaviors would show up by default because you're there. He would rub his face against your arms, his ears would peark up when he hears your voice and there were multiple ocasions were you two feel asleep curled up around each other.

• But you do similar stuff as well so he feels less pathetic when letting his cat side win for a few minutes. Just never dare to talk about how he purrs around you, he'll have your head if you do so.

𖤓Angel

• He enjoys annoying you and making bad sexual jokes about your behavior (like calling you a pussy out of nowhere or something along those lines). He also totally would play pranks that would awaken your more animalistic side.

• Like, I imagine you're literally just chilling on the lobby's couch and then suddenly there's one of those cat lasers moving all around the place and you can't help but chase it around while he's laughing loudly in the background.

• Takes photos of you when you're not looking, but not normal distracted photos, he only takes them when you're doing something embarrassing. The only sweet photos he has of you are the ones you're with Fat Nuggets, be with him sleeping in your lap or just playing with him.

• Would probably buy you a dog-collar for your birthday as a prank, but it actually looks kind nice, being all decorated and having you name in the pendant so if you somehow don't feel too embarrassed to use it he would give you a sly smile before coming back to do whatever he does normally.

𖤓Niffty

• If you have any animal characteristics she'll totally stop everything she's doing to play with your tail/ears/wings or whatever you have, you're a walking fluff ball for her.

• Would insist on helping you bathe, she actually knows ways that not even you knew to keep your hair and fur/wings clean and soft. She would make sure you're all cleaned up.

• Would be more than pleased to receive dead animals if you bring them to her. She would make them onto furniture around the hotel and her room or just turn part of them into accessories.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• Secretly finds you adorable, like, have you seen the way he looked at Kiki when she sat on his lap? He's a total sucker for animals but pretends he isn't.

• You can catch his pupils growing bigger and his eyes shine while he looks at you do anything that resembles a small animal, like stretch yourself, get a sudden burst of energy or sit in high places at the hotel, he tries to play it cool when he notices you’re looking at him but is terrible at hiding that he was staring.

• Would build things for you if you asked him, sometimes without you even asking, for you to put out those animal instincts in more healthier ways insitead of on the hotel, and would keep it a total secret, he doesn't want to make you embarrased.

• He would ask, in a very timid way if he can pet you, if you ask why he wants to pet you he would probably say something among the lines of: “B-because I'm petting EVERYONE HERE!”

𖤓Lucifer

• He loves animals, he helped create some of them back in the days when he was still in heaven so he has a special place in his heart for them, if your sinner form has animal characteristics you can be sure he'll be orbiting around you in pure bliss.

• Asks you a lot of questions on how your body works, what's your diet, how much time it took for you to adjust, even more personal questions, he's kinda oblivious to the fact that you may be uncomfortable with them, he's just so curious (even more if you so happen to have a sinner form similar to a bird).

• Would have a special area designed just for you in his Apple Tower in the hotel where you like to hang out for a big part of the day, watching him build his ducks or anything else he's feeling like building that day. He eventually breaks the silence between him and you when he has a new question to ask but tries to let you be as much as possible.

• When you do anything that he remotely finds adorable, he will start talking in those sweet voices that you use to talk to pets or babies, he's not treating you like an actual animal, he just can't contain his adoration for your behaviors to himself, don't worry, he won't talk to you like that in public, not after he notice how uncomfortable you looked in front of the others. He'll save his reactions for when you two are just by yourselfs.

[zivazivc]

Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?

Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.

But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.

She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.

So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.

Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.

Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.

They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.

So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)

The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.

It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.

[igotanidea]

Not trying: Dick Grayson x reader

She was not trying to get his attention.

And anyone who would even come as close as to suggest that, was being scoffed at, almost laughed at, and brushed off using the classic argument of her being too busy to deal with stupid gossip.

But people were not stupid.

And definitely not the GCPD detectives and officers, of which Y/N had the pleasure to be one.

There was no way to miss the days when she was dressing differently, trying to look pretty. Days that happened to be the ones when Dick was having an office duty and wasn’t on field.

Days when she was sad and internally calling herself off when it turned out he took an unexpected day off or something kept him outside the precinct.

Days when she was faking a smile just so he wouldn’t think she was weak or something.

She was not weak.

She was human.

And in this particular case, being human came with falling in love out of the blue with the guy that couldn't care less, because –spoiler alert!- you cannot possibly plan love.

So she was hurting and cursing that part of her that made her keep on trying over and over again.

Spending days at work, full of energy not trying to get his attention, and evenings in front of TV wishing and praying for this hope to just go away and never come back. It was simply heartbreaking to have it regrow every morning just to tear it away at the end of the day.

Like freaking Prometheus with his liver.

But there was one thing similar between them.

They both suffered because of love for humanity – or in her case – one particular human.

***

It was like that for months now, and finally, all those self-doubts and sadness took over her completely.

So at work, she was avoiding people. She closed herself in her office, deciding to put that teary attitude to use to do some cleaning and remove old files.

Clean space, clean head right?

And those tears that finally started falling down her cheeks were definitely going to be helpful with dusting.

She was crying at work.

How pathetic was that?

But it was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

But now that she'd finally let her tears out, she couldn't stop, as though it was a build-up of all the times she'd held the tears in and her body just wasn't having it anymore.

And since life has a tendency to play mean tricks on people, the moment when she looked like a panda with smudged mascara and red nose that would put Rudolph the Red-nosed reindeer to shame was the exact moment her office door opened with a loud thud and the Chief walked inside.

“Y/L/N. You good?” he muttered, torn between his boss-like attitude and sudden awkwardness upon seeing one of his best detectives in such a state.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m perfect. Why?”

“Um…” the man looked at her dirty, teary face that was speaking for itself. “No reason at all. At all.”

“Is there anything I can do for you,” she inquired as she grabbed some tissues and wiped the stains away – or so she thought – actually making it worse.

“We got a crime scene. You’re going.”

Little did she know, her boss was having second and third and even fourth thoughts about putting her into investigation in this state, but no one else was available. And – to add to his desperation – the first clues were pointing to the crime of vengeance which were her specialty.

“Great. I’m coming.” She instinctively grabbed her gun from the shelf, but before it ended in her holster the boss capably took it from her, shaking his head.

“No.”

“But-“

“Y/L/N this is an order. You are not to take it.”

“But how am I supposed to-?”

“You can take Grayson.”

“WHAT!?”

“In fact, you both will be assigned to this case. This boy needs to get his head out of his ass. Maybe you’ll be the one to teach him some humility.”

“Huh. Yeah…” she stuttered with the greatest amount of sarcasm in her head. Because the woman who was In love with a man was definitely not going to add to his ego, even if only subconsciously. 

***

“Y/N!” Dick grinned, which would probably be a little less weird if he was not standing in front of a dead body.

“Grayson,” she muttered, sticking hands in her pockets, putting on the most indifferent face expression possible.

“You look different” he looked at her with an insightful look.

“Now that’s quite an observation, detective.” She mocked back. Anyone would notice her make-up less state, bloodshot eyes, disheveled clothes,  and messy hair.

“Were you busy in that little office of yours?”

“The hell, Grayson?!” Y/N instinctively reached for the gun, but obviously did not find it and sighed in frustration. Screw her boss.

“Whoa! No need to get defensive. You just look a little – I don’t know – left high and dry?”

“I swear to God, if you don’t cut that bullshit, you’ll be the next one ending up in a body bag.”

“You wanna come at me, detective?” he smirked.

“Why am I being punished with working with you…” She grabbed the bridge of her nose, squeezing it, sensing the massive migraine coming.

“Cause you’re clearly the only one who can make me get my head out of my ass.”

“Nice. Chief told you that too?”

“Nah, I just bugged your office.”

“You do realize that’s illegal, right?”

“I’ve been authorized.”

“Oh yeah? By who?”

“By my human instincts and care for my friend.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it in a gesture that was supposed to be reassuring. “You’ve been sad lately and –” the brush of his hand on hers made her shiver and – despite everything she did not want to do – take a step back.

“Let’s focus on work shall we?” She moved to talk to the CSI and technicians to get details about the traces and the technicalities.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged “But you are boring!”

She was not boring, merely trying to save herself from any more possible heartbreak – or worse – ridicule.

***

A few weeks later, with the investigation still on, they were both buried to their necks in paperwork, searching for dots and connections and any possible explanations and seemingly invisible tracks their culprit may have left.

And working together involved late nights spent together at the precinct, countless nights of Chinese takeout and getting closer, which was both a curse and a blessing.

Blessing because she learned a lot of little details about him. Like for example that he wasn’t just the son of a billionaire who was playing a cop. Like how he actually wanted to separate himself, make a name for himself and not be only known as “the adoptive alumni of Bruce Wayne.” Like underneath all that goofy act he was actually deeply caring and involved in his work, in helping people and making the city a safer place. Like his eyes were sparkling every time he mentioned his siblings or how his mouth twitched in restrained laughter when she said something that was sarcastically funny.

And a curse, because all those little details only made her fall for him harder. And even if she skipped on that not-trying-to-look-pretty act, because investigation took much more of her time and effort, the longing was still there.

“So, what is that big brain of yours telling you about this?” he asked, throwing her off her thought that at the moment had little to do with the crime.

“About what?” she muttered, trying to figure out what he was talking about for the last couple minutes before she spaced out.

“The newest evidence obviously!” Dick laughed, rummaging through his box of beef Chinese, putting his feet on the desk.

“Hey, watch out!” Her first reaction was rushing to save the documents from the inevitable sweet and sour sauce stains.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s not like I’m going to mess anything up here.” The chopsticks were thrown up with undeniable capability, swirled in the air and landed back in his hand without any damages done to the files. “See?”

“Show off.”

“And yet, this show off made you distracted, didn’t he,” Dick asked as he leaned forward, meeting her eyes.

Too close!

“For the record—” she started and then her eyes grew wide as a sudden realization hit her. A second later, she was throwing the papers away in a haste to get to something.

“Hey! Whoa! Y/N! What-?”

“Shut up, Grayson!”

“Shit, I really have to set you up with my brother Jason. He needs a girl in his life and you two will bound hard over the love of telling me to cut on the talking and-“

“I said shut up, Grayson!” a bunch of papers hit his face. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that the man she was in love with wanted to set her up with his brother. She just figured out the entire case. All hecause of a pair of chopsticks having been thrown into the air.

“What are you looking for?”

“Here!” she exclaimed happily pointing at some pictures from the crime scenes and an alleged instrument of crime.  “See? We were wrong all along! From the very beginning. This is why he never left any traces!”

“What are you talking about? I don’t-“

“Hush. You don’t need to understand a single thing. Just grab your gun and badge and follow me. Come on, pretty boy, we don’t have much time and I know exactly where we’ll get the perpetrator.”

Dick could only stand there in his feet rooted to the ground, watching Y/N figuring the whole case out, the wheels in her brains turning faster than a race car, face flushing from excitement, pupils dilating.

Pretty and smart, even with her hair in a messy bun and plain clothes on. Or maybe – especially because of that, since jeans and t-shirts could never suppress her natural beauty?

“Grayson! Come on! Don’t freeze on me!”

“Coming,” he replied as her voice slowly reached his ears. He realized there was no way he was going to let her go anywhere alone. Even if he couldn’t understand a single thing from her rambling and running around, the least he could do was to keep her safe.

***

“Are you absolutely sure about it?”

“Are you chickening out?”

“Your hands are shaking, Y/N.”

“That’s why you are the one with a gun.”

“And killer fighting skills.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“That tone of sarcasm is completely unnecessary, you know. And after we are done please do remind me to introduce you to Jason—”

“Don’t you ever shut up?”

“Don’t you know the answer to that by now?”

Y/N sighed deeply in frustration, fighting the urge to curse at him with the strongest cursing words known to humans. And maybe even inventing a few by herself.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you sure that-?”

“Hush!” she put a palm to his mouth, noticing some movement in front of the house they were currently observing from the camouflaged car. “See that? Told you I was fucking right!”

“There’s no need to brag, you know.” He muttered, his voice muffled due to her hand still on his face.

“Admit it.”

“Admit what?” He looked at her with an incredulous look.

“That I was right.”

“Well for the record, I was the one who made you come into a conclusion-“

“Un-fucking-believable.”

She swiftly left the car, abandoning her need to hear the praise from him to the benefit of catching the culprit that has been invading her waking and sleeping hours alike. She was not going to beg for attention, this time for real, sneaking to the house the criminal ring was clearly having some sort of meeting.

And then, there was the one. Looking like a regular person, even if he was exceptionally handsome, but rotten to the core.

“See? That’s the one who-. Dick?” Y/N turned around, but not spotting her partner anywhere. Fuck! Really?! He was leaving her now?! Of all the times and places?! Now?! Was he really so jealous and self-conceited to not help her finish their joint case?

And here she was, thinking she saw something special in him. Something hidden under the surface.

Stupid heart. After all this time they spent together, seemingly building something, she was right back to the beginning, when she was not trying.

And what was she supposed to do now?

Coming inside alone? Reckless.

Calling for freaking SWAT teams? Before they would get here, the meeting of criminals would be over.

Wait till it was over and chase the leader alone?

Listen to their plan and use it later on?

She was a detective with skills, but not a spy!

And she made that one rookie mistake when leaning too much upwards she was seen.

“Hey! There’s someone outside the window!”

“Oh great…” she muttered and only a quick duck saved her head from being hurt from all the glass shattering due to the bullet fired in her direction.

“Get her! She could be a cop!”

The four men broke from the table, grabber whatever weapons they possibly could and rushed right after her.

“Fuck!” She took off running because despite her agility, speed, and quick thinking she physically was no match to the tank-like men. “Fuck you, boss for taking away my gun permissions!” She hissed to herself, running away. “Fuck you Grayson for leaving me alone! I can’t believe I fell for you!”

“You fell for me?” a familiar teasing voice echoed somewhere from behind, but nowhere to be seen.

And it made her stop.

“Dick?” She turned around to search for him.

And it was another mistake.

An iron grip on her arm and sudden harsh yank back serving as a perfect example of her stupidity.

“I got our little bird.” One of the men laughed maliciously.

“Well, I am not exactly little,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Her only chance was to tread carefully and hope that stupid fucking Grayson will figure out a way out of this mess. Stupid fucking hope that got her in said mess in the first place.

“Huh?” the goon frowned.

“I said-“

“Let the lady go.” Y/N’s words were cut off abruptly by something that seemed like Dick’s voice, but a little more… distorted?

The hell was going on here?

“I really do advise you to let the lady go.” The same voice said again.

“Oh yeah? And who’s asking me to do so? Show your face unless you are all talk.”

“Seeing me only comes once for certain people. And believe me when I say that most of those encounters end up bad when you cross paths with me.”

A man’s silhouette emerged from a few meters ahead, covered by the darkness of the night. At least at first. But as he moved closer, both Y/N and the goon froze, though either of them for a different reason.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“Nightwing,” the goon hissed, tightening the grip on Y/N.

“Hello to you both. Wonderful night we are having, aren’t we?”

“I could argue with that-“ Y/N rolled her eyes. She was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow. That was, if the most talkative of the city's vigilantes wouldn’t actually cause her to end up dead. 

“Congratulations Nightwing, you got me. But there are much more of us in-“

“In that little hiding spot that’s not even properly hidden? Not sorry to break it to you, but Robin and Red Hood are currently dealing with them.”

“Huh?”

“Not very smart, are you?”

“Hey!”

As the goon was getting distracted, Nightwing (?) sent Y/N a very familiar, discreet look and she nodded almost immediately, and suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle formed one clear picture.

“He’s right, you know. You are not very smart,” she picked up the tone immediately.

“Hey!”

“She is a cop,” Nightwing pointed out.

“She is?”

“Yeah, I am. And since I saw your face, I can absolutely guarantee you, I won’t stop until you are behind bars. Unless-“

“Unless obviously you surrender willingly. Maybe then she can strike a bargain for you?”

“That might actually be a possibility,” Y/N teased. “But I’m not sure. Do you think our fella here deserves to be treated lightly, Nightwing?”

“I’m not sure. Are you hurt, Y/N?”

“Can’t lie that my arm is getting a little sore here. If he keeps holding me like this we might also charge him with violation of physical integrity. That’s 3 to 5 years, I believe?”

“And in this case we’re dealing with assault on a public official. Quite an incriminating circumstance.”

“So what do you think, maximum penalty?”

“And the conspiring charges too.”

“And the murder involvement.”

“I say 15 if not more.”

“I’d say more.”

“You wanna bet?” Nightwing smirked.

“I had nothing to do with the murder!” The goon got a little overwhelmed by the quick-paced exchange of words, of which he couldn’t comprehend half of them, loosening the grip on Y/N. And she was quick to use it against him, finding her leverage in using four sensitive spots to knock the man down.

Half an hour later all four men involved were handcuffed and escorted to the police station. 

And after Y/N made her official oral deposition with a promise to submit a written report first thing in the morning, she was finally left alone for a moment of peace.

“Did you really use that Miss Agent trick?”

“It worked didn’t it?” she crossed arms on her chest, looking at Nightwing in a mocking way, without any sympathy at all.

“You know, most of the ladies I know would be at least a little grateful for me saving them.”

“Mhm. That would actually involve the saving part.”

“Let’s check. You are breathing. You are intact. Clearly neither your tongue nor your brain got damaged. Looks quite saved to me.”

“You left me!”  

“For five minutes! Not my fault you are so terrible at self-defense!”

“Not my fault you are terrible at being open with such secrets!”

“It was to protect you!”

“Dick…” she sighed heavily, daring to whisper his name.

“Y/N…” he responded, taking a few steps forward, taking her hand in the same gesture he did all those weeks ago when they started working this case together.

“I thought we were partners? At work” she added quickly

“You fell for me,” he asks, the left corner of his mouth traveling up.

“Oh, now you have a good memory?”

“Did you?”

“NO!”

“Really? No? That's your final answer. Or maybe it’s not,” he pulled her closer and wrapped arms around her waist, preventing her from running away again.

“Yes. I mean, no! I mean- damn it…”

“So, if I were to commit the act of violating the physical integrity of a public official...” he leaned forwards. “what would you say Y/N?”

“What happened to me meeting your brother?”

“I said you have to meet him. Never said why.”

“Oh? And why?” she smirked looking from above his arm to check if they were alone.

“To make him jealous, obviously.”

She chuckled softly, checking the surroundings once more, before slowly reaching to remove his mask and meeting those pretty blue eyes and familiar face.

“Hello there.”

“Hello to you too.”

Their lips were now inches away from each other.

“Which brother are we talking about? Red Hood? Heard he’s hot…”

“Do you ever shut up?” Dick grinned before leaning forward and finally capturing those lips he’s been dreaming about for weeks now.

And kissing her was effortless.

Like he was not trying at all.

[alessiathepirate]

Until Dawn

A SMALL JOY: Josh Washington x fem!reader

Summary: Taking Dr Hill's advice, Josh and his lover go up to the lodge and look through all the things his sisters had left behind - after an interesting find she does her best to take his mind off the sadness he's experiencing.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

To be honest, Until Dawn is still one of my favourite horror games. Thanks to the game I found my favourite YouTube channel, my English improved a lot because I wanted to understand every word, and I have a huge crush on Rami Malek to this very day. Me and my friends were obsessed with him the time the game came out, and soon started to watch more of his work together.

Josh Washington was one of my first fictional crushes, I could defend him for years without getting tired and I drew him so many times I actually learned how to draw portraits correctly.

There's a gameplay I like to rewatch every year, because of the great memories I have connected to it. I always fall in love with Josh Washington once again - and thanks to that tradition, I started to write for him as well.

Warnings: a bit of swearing, mentioned depression and loss, mentioning the Washington sisters' disappearance and/or death

•••

° "(...) We would come up in the summer and we would have the best time. The whole family was there - mom, dad, my sisters. It was some serious competition out there on the big lawn... I don't know. Can't go back. New reality." °

She listens carefully, noticing every little pitch or drop in Josh's voice as he speaks - and as he puts down the baseball bat all she can think about is grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, a tight one, the kind that is both loving and comforting. She watches him, she examines his every little move and her heart aches every single time she finds a new sign of sadness.

She hates it.

She hates that look on his face. She hates that change in his voice. She hates that he feels alone. She hates that the whole case is making him go crazy. She hates that nothing is certain and he can't even grieve.

She hates that he had to change so much; that he had to become this depressed because of some stupid, messed up prank their friends had decided to pull on his sister.

He didn't deserve any of it. He doesn't deserve any of it. None of the Washington kids do.

Coming up here was already hard - back to the mountain where Hannah and Beth disappeared, where they played around like stupid teenagers do. Dr Hill said it's for the best - Josh needs some closure, some proof that he needs to slowly start to move on. She thinks it's bullshit - Josh thinks so too. It won't be easy to put yourself through something like this.

But regardless, they came. They are here now, looking through the rooms, the basement...

The memories are hurting her - and if she as a friend is hurting this badly than Josh must suffer a lot.

"Teach me." the words suddenly burst out before she can stop them, wanting to make Josh concentrate on something else - not wanting him to get lost in his own mind.

"What?" the question is loud in the basement.

"Teach me how to play." she continues on, feeling unsure like she tries to cross a very thin and sensitive line. "I've never played baseball before."

"It's been a while since I did so." Josh starts to explain, his gaze falling on the bat he put down. "You really- want to?"

She steps closer to him slowly, carefully, as if she tries to get close to a very scared and wounded animal. She touches his arm, her fingers hold him as her thumb brushes along his skin in an up and down motion. She leans towards him, her face touching his shoulder as she presses a kiss to the area what isn't covered by his t-shirt.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." she whispers. "I know it's not-" she holds that thought and says something else instead: "I just haven't seen you play yet and I want to join in."

Josh looks at her over his shoulder, he looks at her as she tries to smile even if her eyes stay sad. He watches her like she's the only thing he has left, like she's the only person who matters anymore. He looks at her and feels something break inside, realizing that she really is the only one who he has.

"All right." he says and when he sees her eyes change a tiny bit - showing a bit of happiness - he feels his heart flutter. It makes him feel better, it makes him want to touch her too, putting his hand over hers - over the one which is still clinging onto his arm. "As long as you promise me you won't accidentally hit yourself with the bat."

And there's what he wanted to see - her expression changes, playful offence takes the sadness' place and she gently hits his back.

"Hey! I wouldn't do that."

"You totally wouldn't." his sarcasm earns him another punch and despite the situation and the place, he feels like he got something back.

The last time they bickered like this was half a year ago, the night his sisters had disappeared. They drank and played around until they started to make out in the kitchen, only stopping when Chris stepped inside the room wanting some booze for himself.

As they climb the stairs hand in hand they both feel somewhat relieved. They found a kind of small joy, a bit of happiness - something what they had left here months ago. Josh chuckles when she trips and almost falls, she feels excited as he hands her the baseball bat outside.

"Since there're only the two of us here, I think it's best I teach you how to hit the ball and not yourself."

"I'm not that clumsy Mister!" she tries to sound offended, but it doesn't work.

"I know you too well, girl; and I don't trust you with that at all."

Josh stands behind her, keeping a gentle hold on both of her arms as he explains how to stand and how to hold the bat. She chuckles when he playfully tickles her and this time she doesn't feel guilty about laughing. Before he lets go of her to throw the ball, he gives her a short hug and presses a kiss into the crook of her neck.

She misses the first time...

and the second time; and the third time...

She misses and Josh laughs and she thinks it's the most beautiful sight she's ever seen.

They change positions after a while and no matter how she throws, Josh never misses - not even once. He hits the ball every single time and it flies and lands far away.

She has the feeling that in that very moment, doing that very thing they both feel somewhat complete. She feels like Josh's smiles are honest, his laughs are honest and she forgets about Dr Hill and his stupid advice.

"No shit you like to play it." she says after a while as the both of them are lying in the grass, her head resting on Josh's arm. "It is fun."

"Believe me darling, it is much more fun when you actually hit the ball." his voice has a teasing edge to it and for a moment she thinks about turning towards him and hitting him playfully once again - but she doesn't.

Instead - hoping to get something more, trying to get a kind of good change out of him, she says: "I will, after a bit more training. You'll teach me, I have no doubt about that."

Josh turns towards her, gently touching her face and playing with her hair. She tries to read his face and she realizes that he understands what she's playing at. She wonders if he'll get upset or sad... but she gets an answer pretty quickly.

"I will - of course I will. You'll be the best player in this damn country."

The muscles in her face twitch and she feels like she'll cry. It's been so long, so long since Josh smiled and laughed that now seeing it again feels like a whole new experience. She doesn't want to leave the place or the moment. It's too nice.

"Better than you?"

"Way better." he promises and lets go of the lock of hair he's been playing with. "I love you, you know that, right?"

She feels frozen at the question and starts to wonder where it's coming from. The doubt in his voice, the softness in his eyes... He deserves the world, he deserves everything in it and he deserves to know that he does enough for her - she feels his love and every single emotion and action it causes.

"Of course I do... I know." she promises. "I love you too. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

It's her turn to lean in and she kisses him, making sure the kiss is soft and calm. She wants to make him feel whole and safe. She wants him to be happy.

They lay back down and stay quiet for a bit, enjoying the sunlight and the light summer breeze. She feels like she could melt. Melt into the feeling and moment forever, without ever getting bored.

"You know," Josh starts suddenly, his voice soft and unsure. "it's been a while since I've taken you out on a date."

"It's fine, Josh. These past months weren't exactly the best."

"No... I know." for a few moments he stays silent, not knowing what to say. "All I want to say is I have a few movies here we can watch and we can have a nice time before we-"

"-go back to them." she finishes, understanding what he means.

Them. All the friends, all the family members and pals who show an annoying amount of pity. All of those people who try to comfort Josh when doesn't want to do anything with them. The people who make him feel worse than better.

"I'd love that." she smiles at him as he turns towards him and hugs him. "But no horror."

"No horror." Josh nods.

It wouldn't be good for either of them.

She kisses his shoulder as they get going, stretching their muscles, before climbing the stairs to go and find the movies Josh was talking about.

As they look over his DVDs while hugging, all she can think about is how unfair life is, because Josh doesn't deserve any of the problems life threw at him...

[cakerybakery]

!!

Can you imagine if Eve was so devastated after Cain and Abel that despite knowing they were supposed to usher in humanity, Eve couldn’t bear the idea of being pregnant again.

That Adam makes the first deal with the devil because heaven is just like, tell her to suck it up and get on with it, but he loves Eve and can’t hurt her by forcing himself on her.

So he asked Lucifer to give him a way to switch roles with Eve. He’ll bear her children.

Lucifer understands their grief. Lilith recently suffered their first miscarriage. He can’t undo heaven curse upon her, this child wasn’t even planned, but she had been excited. They hadn’t realized when heaven cursed her to never have children it would curse her to miscarry if she became pregnant.

So he makes the deal, Adam will bear all of Eve’s children… plus one.

He tells Adam of the curse that perhaps one day Lilith would want a child and should she, Adam will bear it for her with Lucifer as the sire.

Adam agrees. Heaven is upset at this turn of events but turns a blind eye, they don’t know what exactly Adam’s deal was but he ends up in heaven so it must not be so bad.

It’s been so long, he’s died and even started the exterminations, but one day Lucifer reaches out.

A deal overrides even death. He puts in for some vacation and goes down to hell. Things are tense and it takes a couple months of trying, but it works. He’s away for nearly a year before Charlie is born.

He doesn’t really think about Charlie as being his blood. Adam feels more like a surrogate. Especially since Lilith takes to her so quickly, is so grateful for Adam’s help.

Things go south for him and Eve though. Eve feels betrayed. She hadn’t known about his end of the deal until then.

Things get worse after Lilith and Lucifer split. She confides in Adam and Adam is pissed off on her behalf. Lucifer didn’t take to Charlie the same way Lilith did. He loved her but spent more and more time in a depressive state and wasn’t able to spend much time with her. Lilith couldn’t handle it anymore as she was also being pushed away.

If Lucifer was depressed from seeing the evils of humanity, maybe seeing more sinners killed would cheer him up? They up the exterminations.

This really inspires Charlie to put a stop to the killings.

Vaggie doubts their cause, especially since they’re no longer targeting the worst of humanity but everyone and falls. The hotel is formed. An angel is killed and now Adam is angry and scared for heaven if they can be killed what’ll stop hell from turning on them?

They fight, Adam tries to actually kill Charlie because her birth is where everything went wrong. Maybe if he gets rid of her, things will go back to the way they were.

Lucifer isn’t teasing Adam about fucking Eve, he’s teasing Adam about the deal, that Eve liked fucking Adam more than she’d liked being fucked by Adam.

That he put on weight after the pregnancies. Just generally being an asshole about their deal.

Lucifer blames Adam for the failure of his marriage. Lucifer felt like he was cheating. That Charlie was an affair child. It sent him spiralling and he never told Lilith how he felt.

Adam revives as a sinner and things are difficult. There’s just arguments and hostility until one day Adam, pissed off that Charlie is acting so calm and trying to see the best in everything while he’s raging and Lucifer and him are at each other’s throats again goes, “I can’t believe I gave birth to you! You don’t know anything that’s going on! You can’t fix everything with hope and happiness, puppies and rainbows. Back off!”

And he doesn’t even realize what he’s said until he sees her shocked face. Hears the silence. His brain catches up to his mouth and now Lucifer is really mad.

But Charlie wants to know what Adam meant. Lucifer tries to lie but Adam can’t look into eyes so much like Lucifer’s on that day thousands of years ago. How they looked with tears as Lucifer told him about the miscarriage. How they both cried over the lost children.

He breaks. He tells Charlie everything.

Even the stuff Lilith told him. Charlie confronts Lucifer and he has to admit why he was distant.

Only with everything out in the open at last do things start getting better.

Adam and Lucifer can actually talk about what happened instead of dancing around it and blame each other for feelings the other didn’t know about.

The sex was good but they both felt awful about having it. And guilty for enjoying it.

Charlie wants to know why she was so easy for both of them to give up. Adam assured her that it was because he was doing for Lilith and that Lilith loved her, he didn’t try to get attached because he was doing it for someone else. For Lucifer it was the guilt and he felt horrible for feeling guilty and for not being able to be around as much as he wanted. He’s sorry for not being there for her, for taking his feeling out on her. She does eventually forgive them and enjoys getting to know more about them when they’re not trying to hide the truth from her.

Things aren’t still right with Eve or Lilith but there’s not much they can do. Eve doesn’t want to forgive yet, nor see Adam to let him try. Eve has her own journey to have to come to terms about everything.

Lilith isn’t going back to Lucifer, she’s still hurt he pushed her away as well, but now that things are out in the open though she’s finally able talk to Charlie like how she always wanted, openly without fear of revealing the truth. Their relationship gets better.

There’s a shift now. Adam and Lucifer are enjoying each other’s company. Then one day they’re sharing stories and laughing but Lucifer is looking at Adam differently, sweetly, the mood is shifting. Adam’s close enough they could kiss, he leans in a little closer, Lucifer does too. Now sex is just good without the guilt. Eternity is a long time, spending it with each other sounds like a fine way to enjoy it.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Only a couple more posts like this and then I’ll leave y’all alone but… I don’t know how to explain or articulate it properly but there is something I’ve never picked up on before that I suddenly caught when re-reading Mockingjay.

These two moments… when you compare and contrast them…

Gale’s touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body’s still alive, and for the moment it’s a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. “Katniss,” he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion. “Now kiss me.” Bewildered, unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper back.

she says here she’s (somewhat passively) giving gale all that she withheld from him (when peeta, in her mind, was still a possibility) and thinks at least kissing him makes her feel somewhat alive, but even during the kiss she’s not present or focused on gale, and he catches onto that. but the portion highlighted is the important part of this scene. she is startled back into reality when gale calls her name and her awakening is the realization that this isn’t their way. she doesn’t even say “this isn’t my way” (as in, kissing isn’t something she does unless on camera for a show). and she doesn’t say “this isn’t our woods or our mountains or our home” (as in, this place is unfamiliar and strange and scary and that’s what’s disjointing her). no, she says “this isn’t our way”. because this isn’t what she does with gale. kissing gale feels alien and wrong in her heart. even with peeta out of the picture.

and then the second passage from later down the line in mockingjay:

Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today.

It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.”

peeta, who she claims to have given up on, is begging to be left behind. how many times has she claimed throughout this book that she wishes he was dead (either to end his suffering or to end her own)? and right here, she has just blown up the halo to mercifully kill finnick. she is so desensitized to death by this point. and she thinks she’s so desensitized to peeta. she doesn’t even want to consider he still is peeta. but here, when she has every reason to put him (and herself) out of his misery, she instead turns to kissing him. why? why would you kiss the monster who is actively fighting to not murder you with his bare hands? why would you kiss the boy you called a mutt? the one who you have already done your best to let go of? why would that even cross your mind as a last ditch effort?

because kissing peeta isn’t disjointing and it’s not something she only did for the cameras and it’s certainly not something she’s only doing passively. she’s kissing peeta to remind him who he is. to remind herself who he is to her. she’s tried so hard to stop caring for him, to sever the cord between the two of them, but in this moment she just can’t. she kisses him and says “don’t let him take you from me”.

because the act of kissing actually is their way.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 7.7k

Notes: No cause actually I’m just finishing this now and it comes out Thursday how could I do this to myself it’s Tuesday. And more importantly why is it so LONG cause it’s cute that’s why and this is the SET UP chapter okay

Episode 6: Beach Blanket Bingo

Approximately three weeks after your first date Buck has the third one all set up and ready to go

He did not want to wait, in fact, he wanted to plan five dates in five days which would have been cute but Eddie said no. He had to take his time and show you that he cared about you so he went along with it because Eddie was his patience.  

Eddie helped him set the whole thing up, they went to Target and had a little shopping spree. They bought a cute pink blanket, a checkerboard print picnic basket, and two beach chairs. Eddie threw in a few other things, A couple of portable silverware sets, and a strawberry-shaped serving bowl. Actually, he got two of those because he really wanted one too. 

Everything they have is very colorful and Buck hopes you like it. Eddie knows a private beach area, from a friend and he got that spot for Buck just for tomorrow 

“You really think she’s gonna like a beach date? What if she secretly hates water or something”

“Did she tell you she secretly hated water?” Eddie asks as he cuts up the strawberries for the fruit salad they’re making 

“If it’s a secret how am I gonna know” he makes a dumb face at Eddie and Eddie has to take a second, just to remember why they’re friends and why he loves this man 

“Yeah…you’re so right” He puts his head down, returning to cutting the strawberries. 

“Anyway” Buck throws some grapes he cleaned off into the bowl and pops one in his mouth 

“I should probably get cooking. You mind being my guinea pig?” 

“For what?” Eddie asks warily as he slides the strawberries off his cutting board and into the bowl 

“I’m trying out a new seasoning mix for burgers I want to know if it’s good and I can’t eat it myself because then I won’t be hungry later!” 

Eddie rolls his eyes as he starts on the watermelon 

“Fine, I suppose I can suffer through this,” He says sarcastically, but his growling stomach gives him away 

Buck is so particular with the way he cooks these burgers, he’s so careful about how he seasons and what he seasons with and Eddie sits on the counter, handing him things and watching him. He even times how long he cooks each side and puts the bacon in the oven 

“You’re doing great dude,” Eddie says as he holds out the plate Buck puts the toasted bun on 

“You think so?” 

“I have literally no idea how this could suck. Like it’s beautiful” He hops off the counter, setting the plate down and Buck plates it exactly how he wants it to be and takes a couple pictures

“Ketchup or not?” He teases him and Buck rolls his eyes as he hands him the ketchup

“After you try it plain. You probably won’t even want it!!” 

“Oh, we’ll see about that” Eddie pokes at his side before picking the burger up and taking a bite out of it. Buck puts his hands to his face, nervously watching as Eddie takes his time considering it. He sets it back down and puts his hands on Buck's shoulder 

“That’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever made me in our entire lives and you’re right I don’t want ketchup”

Buck has four swimsuits he could possibly wear and a speedo Eddie said that he should burn and it literally didn’t even fit his junk properly 

Not his fault he’s too big for it

So he and Eddie settle on his shortest pair because it shows off his thighs the best and they’re really short and they make his butt look good and they really think you’ll appreciate that

Not to mention they have super cool sharks on them. 

“You nervous?” Eddie asks as he blows up the cute pink and white beach ball that Buck bought especially for you 

“Incredibly. Like what if I mess this up?? You’re usually there to save me, what if she thinks I’m like a freak or something, or what if I accidentally drown her”

“How?? How would you accidentally drown her?” 

“It’s called an “accident” Eddie! I don’t know! Oh god, what if she can’t swim?!” 

“Then you get to hold her in the water? You haven’t asked her if she can swim?”

“Oh god, I should have asked oh my god. Eddie!! I’m already ruining this!!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and takes out his phone, dialing your number “You’re not ruining anything Buck you’re putting way too much on yourself, she would not have accepted a beach date if she couldn’t-“ 

“Oh hey!” Eddie holds the phone up between him and Buck “Just a silly, crazy, cute lil question… can you swim?”

“Uhhh” He hears through the phone and he looks horrified as you take too damn long to answer this question 

“Y/N” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and you nervously giggle, Buck looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. In fact, he sits down on the floor just staring at his hands 

“Yes, Eddie?” You say so sweetly he’s sure his teeth just rotted 

“You can’t swim, can you?” 

“Okay okay hear me out-“

“Y/N!!”

“Hear me out!!” You yell and Eddie groans loudly as Buck lays out on the floor, waiting for death to take him 

“I’m not a strong swimmer okay!! But you know… I can… float and do little kicks….”

“Jesus fuc-“

“Besides!!! I figured you know… um… see okay I was thinking that I could just tell Buck when we went into the water and just ask him if he didn’t mind holding onto me you know?? I just- I thought hey maybe he’d want to and- and that way like-“

“Are you telling me you’re using the fact that you can’t swim to get Buck to have to keep his hands on you??”

“For safety!!” 

Eddie hears May laugh and you shush her, he looks down at Buck who’s got his hands over his face and he can’t tell what he’s feeling. 

“Don’t tell him okay?? He might back out if he knows” 

“I don’t think he’d back out, he’d rather die than cancel a date ”

“Promise me you won’t tell him!!” You whine and he rolls his eyes 

“Fine. God. Goodbye, Brat.”

“Bye, bestest friend in the entire world!!!”

Eddie scoffs as he hangs up, nudging Buck's foot with his.

“God sometimes I think you two dumbasses really were made for each other…Well?” 

Buck squeals at a level only dogs can hear and Eddie slaps his hand over his face 

“She wants me to hold her!!” 

“I’m packing water wings” 

This was such a bad idea, this was the worst idea he and Eddie could have ever come up with. Why did he think he could do this? 

He and Eddie picked you up together from the house, Eddie came with you as a decoy because Buck just had to pick you up from the house. 

Eddie lets out a low whistle as they look up from their phones, Buck’s mouth drops open and Eddie closes it for him 

You’re walking towards them, a little skip in your step. You’d just bought a new swimsuit anyway so Buck’s idea of going to the beach was perfect. The red material clings to your body, it's low on your chest and cut high on your hips. May called it your Baywatch swimsuit as you spun around giggling while showing it to her the other day. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Eddie asks as they watch you walking over to them. That bounce in each step is causing him to feel things 

“Huh?” He mumbles, still staring at you. It feels like it’s taking years for you to get to the car, Oh okay he kinda understands the slow-motion runs now. 

“Hi, guys!” You say as you open the front door and climb into the jeep. Eddie wolf whistles and you giggle, handing him your bag to put in the back 

“Damn, Pamela” He jokes and you roll your eyes, pulling your cover-up tighter around your body 

“That’s literally what May said. I think it’s cute!” 

“Oh trust me I’m not disagreeing in the slightest,” He says, putting his arms on the backs of your seats 

“You think he’s ever gonna snap out of it?” You turn your body towards Buck and Eddie and Eddie shrugs 

“Eventually… this one really is a banger though sweetheart it might take him a minute”

“Does he even know I’m in the car?” 

Buck’s hands are on the steering wheel, his palms are sweaty, and his stomach flutters like crazy… maybe he’s sick. He’s definitely sick, he’s gotta be sick. He should cancel the date he doesn’t wanna make you sick 

“Buck?” You poke at his arm 

“Breathe… dude” Eddie rubs his shoulders and Buck starts to relax slowly 

His voice is robotic and plain, and his hands grip the wheel tighter

“Hello, you look nice. Are you ready to go?” 

Eddie falls back in his seat laughing and you pull him into your chest, hugging him

“Buck come on!” You whine as you smother him like he does to you 

“Snap out of it so we can have fun!” 

He groans loudly and wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your bare chest, definitely getting glitter all over his face and hair 

“You look So. Damn. Good. I swear Y/N I could just eat you up right here right now” 

“Please don’t do that. We’re still in the driveway” Eddie says from the backseat, reminding you both oh yeah he’s still here 

“Wait the driveway is your problem?” Buck turns to face Eddie, still keeping his head on your chest 

“Why did you say it like that” Eddie slaps his arm and Buck starts giggling as he finally pulls away, he starts up the jeep again and leaves the driveway to drop Eddie back off at home 

“It’s fun to harass you” 

He reaches for you as soon as he gets to a stop sign, cupping your face in his hands, he lets everyone go first as he kisses you, sliding his tongue in your mouth and wrapping it around yours. Your cheeks flush deeply, the butterflies in your stomach going wild as you kiss him back, fighting him for dominance 

“Oh my god, do you want me to freaking drive? Go!” Eddie yells at Buck as cars start to honk behind him and he pulls away quickly, hitting the gas. 

You hook your phone up to his Bluetooth and pull up the playlist he’d made for you. Jessie’s Girl plays through the speakers and you squeal, turning up the volume. You play the guitar while Eddie does the drums and Buck looks over at you, enjoying the way you sing into your fake microphone and cue Eddie for his drum solo 

“You’re singing this, way too intensely” Buck looks down over his sunglasses into the rearview mirror at Eddie as you and he sing together and he bursts out laughing, falling over in the backseat as you kick your legs, hiss laughing 

“Shut up!” 

After your little laughing fit you mostly talk with Eddie as you drive back to his place, he’s not coming with so you give him a little extra attention, but that doesn’t stop you from cuddling up to Buck and blowing in his ear softly. At first, it tickles and he’s trying to fight you off with one hand while you giggle and keep blowing. But one particular moment sends a spark of electricity down his spine and he’s fighting a boner with every… bone in his body. He shifts awkwardly and his eyes shoot up to Eddie’s in the review mirror, silently begging him to save him and he shrugs, getting your attention back easily and Buck can finally breathe again.

Which isn’t even easy in the first place because you smell good. He wonders what it is, he could bathe in it. Maybe you’ll spray some on his pillow for him, he’d do it for you in a heartbeat if you asked. 

He’d do a lot of things for you if you asked. 

Once you pull into Eddie’s driveway he hops out and you open the door, giving him a big hug. He winks at Buck who rolls his eyes and flips him off 

“I’ll see you two later! Enjoy your day!” He steps back from the Jeep waving as Buck pulls out of the driveway 

“Bye, Eddie!! Have a good day!!” You wave back as you speed off toward the beach. 

Buck and Eddie showed up earlier and got everything all set up so when he grabs the picnic basket from the backseat and takes your hand his nerves quiet just a little. He really wants this date to go well, Eddie was right, he wants to show you how much he cares. 

“Buck this is really cute,” You say as you kneel down on the blanket and reach out for the basket. He hands it to you before sitting down and straightening out the blanket a little 

“I can’t take all the credit, Eddie helped set things up” He watches you take out the food and set it out. You grab a plate and serve him first and he blushes, it’s so domestic and it makes his heart do flips 

“I should be doing that for you” He takes the spoon from your hand and puts some of the fruit salad on a plate for you and you sit with your legs out in front of you 

“You did everything else, the least you can let me do is serve you, it’s not that difficult you know” 

“I know… but I want to do it anyway. He hands you the plate and you smile, leaning forward and kissing him sweetly

“Thank you, for everything”

“It’s my pleasure, Doll,” He says, kissing your nose and sitting back with his plate 

You and Buck eat the fruit salad first because it’s your favorite part and you taste even sweeter when he kisses you again. His hand trails up your smooth thigh, pulling you closer to him by your hip. He nuzzles his head against yours and you melt into his touch. He smiles, pulls away, and goes back into the basket 

“You know we should probably actually eat” 

“Personally I think there are more interesting things to taste but okay” You shrug and his cheeks turn red 

“Oh haha, very funny” He sticks his tongue out and you bat your eyelashes playfully 

“What can I say, I’m a slut for a dirty joke” you quote him from earlier and he slaps your thigh, handing you a warm bowl. You take off the lid and there’s a delicious-looking burger inside. 

“Where did you get this” Your mouth is already watering as you put the little container up to your face, inhaling the delicious aroma 

“I made them myself! But wait-“ he grabs a couple of buns from a bag and hands you one “I didn’t want these getting soggy” 

You carefully take the burger from the container and put it on the bun, he hands you a napkin, and you wipe your hands off before putting the bacon on and wiggling a little 

“It’s gorgeous,” you say through fake sniffles and he rolls his eyes smirking when you take a bite. Your eyes widen before rolling back in your skull and you sigh 

“Oh Buck” you moan and his cheeks flush deeply. He knows you mean his cooking but like…. Like could you just do that again??

“I think I’m in love” You giggle as you eat and he opens the bag of chips for you both 

“Well that makes two of us” he winks and you blush as you take the chips and nibble on one 

It’s quiet when you’re eating and you can’t help it, because it’s good and who even knew Buck could cook, because he hadn’t cooked for you before and now you wish he would again, or maybe you could cook for him next time, you set your empty container aside, leaning back in your chair a little as you chew the tip of your sunglasses in deep thought 

“What are you thinking about?” Buck asks as he sips his capri sun “You kinda zoned out a little there” he chuckles and you shrug 

“Maybe… for one of our dates? I could do something for you. I want to do our next date okay? You can have the last one!” 

“Awww you don’t have to! I like spoiling you” He boops your nose and you giggle, wiping off your hands grabbing the hand sanitizer, and spraying it 

“I want to Buck!! You deserve to be spoiled too” 

“I can think of other ways you could spoil me,” he says dreamily and you roll your eyes as you stand up and stretch out for a second before bending over to grab a drink from the cooler. You fall out of your top a little and stop for a second, putting your hand over your chest 

“Hey! That was one of them” 

“Oh shut up!!” You swat his thigh and stand tall, opening your little drink 

He eases himself out of his chair and onto the ground, pushing his chair away a little, and opens his arms

“C’mere cutie” 

You step over him and he looks up at you, goddamn are you a sight to behold as you straddle his lap and sit down. 

“There we go! Nice and comfy” he smirks and you wrap your arms around his neck 

“Oh yeah, soooo comfy,” you say as his hands slide down to your ass and squeeze gently 

“Oh? Is this not to your liking?” He slides his hands up your sides while laying back and bringing you with him. You blush as you’re laid out on him 

“How about this?” 

“Even better” you purr and he sighs, his hands shaking a little as he feels you up 

“You wanna go swimming soon?” He cups your face in his hands, mushing it around and making silly faces and you snicker, pushing his hands away

“Yeah!! But um… I gotta tell you something about that” You say quietly and he slaps his hands on your butt, making you jump and yelp and you punch his chest 

“And what would that be?” He starts tapping out a little beat on your butt and you reach behind you trying to bat his hands away but he just smacks your butt 

“Would you quit that!!” You wriggle on him and he gasps, his hands stalling. 

“Oh? Oh, you like that huh?” You smirk evilly 

“I mean you’re literally inadvertently grinding on me so yeah I think I like that” 

“You want me to do it on purpose?” You ask quietly, reaching up to twirl his hair with your finger. His mouth drops open 

“Wait- seriously?” 

“If you don’t want-“ You start to get up and he shakes his head fast, pushing you down against him by your ass 

“No- no!! I want, I want!!” He says pleadingly and you laugh, burying your face in his neck for a moment before you start to roll your hips. His breath hitches and he sighs, melting into the sand below him 

“Mmmm that’s my girl,” He says quietly as you sit up, putting more pressure on his cock 

“Did I mention you look super, super good today?” you say and he blushes 

“Really?” 

“Uh huh, your sharks are so cute” 

Buck perks up a little as he holds your hips 

“You really think so??” He sounds so cute and excited and it makes you blush at how adorable he’s being

 “I named this one Kevin!!” He points to one of the sharks on his swim trunks and you stop grinding for a second to look down 

“Hi Kevin” you giggle and wave at the little hammerhead shark and Buck sits up now, looking at Kevin 

“Yeah he’s pretty cool… just don’t tell the others” He whispers in your ear and you bite your lip before kissing him, knocking him backward into the sand again. He moans quietly, wrapping his arms around you and squishing you down onto him a bit. He laps at your tongue, tangling his with yours as he kisses you passionately and downright dirty 

“God you’re just so cute sometimes” You pant in between kisses and he pushes down on your ass as you start to grind on him again, he chuckles, grinding back against you and you gasp against his lips 

“Cute huh? I don’t wanna be cute right now…” He rolls you over onto your back and grinds into you, bending down and kissing you breathless. Your body shudders as he’s a little more aggressive with his movements now, thrusting his hips gently into yours. 

You tug on his hair, your hands tangling through it as you open your legs to him more, lost in the moment of pleasure he’s giving you. You can tell by the way he’s angling his hips he’s after one thing 

And he’s hitting it over and over again. 

Oh, he’s definitely boyfriend material. 

He gasps in your ear, a soft little pathetic noise that sends a shiver straight up your spine. Your heart flutters and your pussy clenches around nothing desperately 

“Jesus Buck” you pant, wrapping your legs around his waist and he chuckles darkly as he ruts his hips harder into yours. 

His phone rings and he completely ignores it while you claw at his back, egging him on. The heated desire between the two of you could practically make glass underneath you. You slide your hands down his lower back, going to ease his shorts down-

It starts to ring again and you turn to look at it “Who is that??” Your chest bounces with each of his thrusts and he’s practically mesmerized by the way you look underneath him 

“Uh I’m not-“ He moans desperately, letting his head fall onto your shoulder “Fuck it’s Eddie” He bites down and your body arches into him

“Shouldn’t you answer it?” You pant softly as you look over at it 

“I’m kinda busy??”

You laugh as you reach your arm out toward his phone, wiggling your fingers to grab it and answer it. He stops for a second, grabs it, hands it to you, and goes right back to kissing your shoulder and leaving hickeys across your chest 

“Hello??” 

He’s definitely not going to stop this time, in fact, he makes it worse by pulling the front of your swimsuit down 

“Buck!!” You shriek as his hands cup your breasts, he places featherlight kisses on them, trying to refrain from biting 

“Yes, beautiful?” 

“Put the phone up to his ear” Eddie hisses and you do as he says 

“I swear to god if you fuck her in the middle of this beach”

“How do you know what I’m-“

“Binoculars” 

Buck's hips freeze in place and you can hear Eddie laughing his head off 

“What did he say??” You ask and Buck looks around frantically “Uhh nothing baby nothing” He gets up, tossing a towel over your chest, and awkwardly pats it 

“I really really need to take this call,” he tells you and you nod fast handing him over the phone 

“No, go ahead!” 

He jogs away a few feet closer to the ocean so you can’t hear him 

“Where are you?!” 

“Actually pretty far, you were so nervous I thought I’d show up for a bit and make sure you were okay… and now I really wish I hadn’t” 

“Did you see…her-“ He gestures around his chest and Eddie laughs

“No, I looked away. But it seems like you don’t need me, man. So… I’m going to Chipotle”

“Wait bring me home some queso” 

“Oh yeah sure okay. I’ll send you my locaysh so you don’t have to be paranoid I’m still here”

“Wow, thanks how’d you know I would be?!” 

“Because I know you better than you do buddy. Also, she’s going toward the water, 9 o’clock”

“Mmmm I can’t tell time” Buck turns around 

“Jes- Goodbye” 

Buck jogs back over to your little picnic and tosses his phone down. He looks over at you as you walk towards the water, your backside covered in sand… god he loved that swimsuit. 

He follows after you, walking right next to your footsteps and semi-fangirling over the way they look so cute together 

“Is everything okay?” You look up at him and god you really have given him a size kink 

You’re. Just. So. Petite. He could pick you up and throw you. God okay he doesn’t wanna actually throw you. But you’re like five feet tall and that’s cute 

“Earth to Buck” you wave your hand in front of his face and he flinches “You good”

“Huh?? Oh. Oh yeah sorry I was just thinking about throwing you” 

You blink at him and he blinks back, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips for a moment really just thinking  

“…Just gonna leave that there huh buddy?” 

“Leave what where?” He asks, looking around 

“You- you just said you wanted to throw me?” 

“Ohh…”

3…2…1…

“Oh shit! No fuck no!! Shit god no that’s!?? That’s weird I just- no I meant like you- you’re just so tiny and-“

You’re letting him dig his hole deeper as he fumbles over his words 

“And-and like so easy to pick up and like no god no I’d never throw you I- know I would never hurt you” 

You shake your head, listening to him with a wide grin on your face 

“I’m- I’m making this worse aren’t I” 

“Yes” you shake your head giggling and he groans loudly, spinning around in a little circle and throwing a tiny tantrum 

“It’s like when you see something just so darn cute you wanna squish it forever!!” 

“So you’re saying you think I’m so cute you just wanna throw me?” 

“Yes!!!” He throws his arms out and you nod 

“Yeah no okay I get it now. Like how I want to be Lady Dimitrescu’s vanity” 

“Goddamn, what I wouldn’t give to be that” Buck wholeheartedly agrees and you both stand there for a moment, just… dreaming. 

“So you wanna get in the water?” Buck asks 

“Okay!” 

Maybe Eddie was right, maybe you were made for each other. 

The bimbo to his himbo 

Buck sighs dreamily as he takes your hand, pulling you closer to the water. What a match made in heaven. 

You nearly drown in a wave that knocks you flat on your butt. 

You forgot to tell Buck you couldn’t swim and Buck forgot to remember you couldn’t swim. 

Both of you blame it on the messing around earlier. 

Buck pulls you up the beach before flopping down on the sand next to you, both of you panting heavily 

“You terrified of the ocean yet?” 

“I think I just swallowed half of it” 

You look over at him, you look like a drowned rat. The cutest drowned rat he’s ever seen. He chuckles as he leans into you, kissing you slowly and putting his arm over your waist 

“You wanna try that again?” 

“You promise you’ll hold onto me?” 

“I promise baby” He kisses your nose and you blush 

“Okay…” you get up, bending over to brush the sand from your legs and Buck smacks your ass 

“Hey!” You yelp and shoot up straight and he puts his hands up in mock defense 

“I was just trying to help” He pats his eyelashes sweetly 

“You’re groping me way too much today” You scold him as he takes your hand again and leads you back to the water, it seems to have calmed down 

“Honestly, if it’s too much please ask me to stop and I absolutely will. On the other hand… if you like it. You know you can do it right back, right?” He smirks as you look at him, a light blush dusting your cheeks 

“Huh?” You say and he takes both your hands, walking backward into the water 

“Might I remind you I have a butt too? A very cute one” 

You giggle as he walks you out a little deeper so you’re floating and he’s still standing 

“I also have- you know,….something else if that’s to your liking” He winks and you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms securely around his neck. He stops at a safe distance and bends his knees so he’s floating with you on top of him 

“I’m just saying… I’m giving you permission you know… if that’s something you’re interested in and you know now that I’m saying that I’m sorry I didn’t ask to use your booty as bongos”

You laugh into his shoulder and pull back again to look at him 

“It’s okay, you’ve got pretty good rhythm, and I’ve got a pretty nice ass”

“Oh boy do you” He sighs softly, tilting his head cutely “I just can’t get enough of you, my sweet, sweet little bunny” 

“Bunny huh? What happened to Doll?” You ask, booping his nose and he nods 

“It's Bunny when I’m ready to take a bite out of you” He growls and nips at your finger and you squeal, pulling away from him and he pulls you back closer

“No-no-no!!” You try to push him away from him laughing loudly “Don’t eat me!!” 

“You better watch out or my sharks are gonna get you!!” 

He purposely drags you to shallower water and lets you go and you run away 

“I can’t tell if that was an innuendo or not!!” You call over your shoulder and he nearly trips from laughing so hard 

“Oh my god, I didn’t even think about that!! Now that’s exactly what I mean!” 

You know he’s running so much slower than he really can, no matter how hard your little legs pump you know he could catch you if he really wanted… and maybe that’s what you both like about it so much. For as much as you run and dodge his lunges you know he’s just toying with you at this point and you sort of do feel like a little bunny, like his prey. 

“Awww come on! You’re starting to slow down bunny! I thought this was gonna be more of a chase!” His voice is borderline sinister? And that’s hot. 

What a great distraction. 

You shriek as his hand grabs the back of your swimsuit and yanks you backward, pulling you down into the sand with him, the waves lap against your bodies as he pins you to the ground and stares at you, his pretty eyes, dark and stormy now 

“Well, well, well, look what I’ve caught” He runs his finger down your cheek as you pant beneath him, his eyes roll back slowly as his hips connect with yours, grinding against you 

“You gorgeous, gorgeous little bunny. I like watching you run from me” He whispers in your ear, his voice dripping with a seductive husky tone. Your eyes widen as you shove him off of you, sitting up fast. He falls onto his butt, stunned for a second, and looks at you 

“Too far??” He asks worriedly and you run your hands over your hair, they’re shaking so hard he can see them 

“Y/N??” 

“That was the hottest damn thing I have ever experienced in my entire life I need a minute,” you tell him and he falls backward laughing loudly 

“You scared me! You brat!!” 

“Oh, I’m just supposed to be completely normal. When you treat me like prey?? And you’re all “Grrr, I’m…I’m some sort of…”I don’t know what kind of animal do you wanna be?” 

“I’ll be a wolf, it’s funny” 

You giggle into your hands as you fall back into the sand “Okay, my very own werewolf boyfriend, Nice!” 

“Hey I’m on TikTok, I know what booktok is okay. You’re into it” 

You burst out laughing, throwing wet sand on his chest “Are you kidding me?!” 

“Let me see your Kindle unlimited Y/N!! Let. Me. See. It” 

Buck has another little surprise but you have to wait for it to get darker he says so instead you guys go for a walk down the beach. He’s picking up little random pieces of wood as you go 

“So you think we could have a sleepover sometime?”

He asks as he picks up another and you shrug, smiling “It sounds nice, but how are we gonna get around that one?” 

“If Eddie’s there I’m sure Bobby won’t mind” 

“Right…right Having a sleepover with two, grown, attractive, men! That totally sounds like something he’d go for!” You poke his side and he giggles 

“Maybe we can say May is invited too! She’d cover for us” 

“I could always ask her, you think Eddie will be available?” 

“Yeah to cover for us, no way am I having my best friend come over when I’m trying to have a completely innocent, wonderfully pure, amazingly sinless sleepover with my girlfriend” 

“Oh, we’re gonna fuck huh?” 

Buck bursts out laughing, grabbing your arm as he almost falls to the ground and you steady him, laughing with him. He giggles and kicks the sand, trying to stop laughing all the way back to your little slice of heaven. He drops the wood he was collecting and plops down in his chair 

“I hate you so much” 

You snort as you sit down next to him “It was funny!! You’re the one who laughed for six hours” 

He kicks some sand on your leg and you slap his thigh, to which he slaps yours. Your mouth opens a little and he sticks his tongue out at you. 

“You wanna go? Because I’ll fight you right here right now” you tell him and he flicks you off with both fingers 

“Come at me, Princess” 

He doesn’t know what he expected, even though if he was actually paying attention he would have known. You tackle him out of his seat and he yelps as you two go rolling in the sand. He screams laughing as you tickle him and kick his legs as you end up back on top of him 

“Stop!! Stop I’m gonna pee!!” He screams and bucks his hips trying to knock you off but you just hold on tighter, attacking him more

“Nice try! But I’ve won the bull riding contest at Lucky Jacks four times!!”

He grips your wrists, holding you off “Wait you’ve what???” He pants harshly, holding you back as you struggle 

“Yeah! I’m actually really good at it” 

“Are you telling me with a straight face you’re good at riding” 

You stop wriggling so much and think for a second, humming softly 

“Yeah okay, I’ll go with it. I’m amazing at riding” you purr seductively and he groans, rolling his eyes back and letting your wrists go 

“Oh god you’re my dream woman” He sighs and you giggle, bracing your hands on his chest 

“Are you good at taking it?” You ask, letting your head tilt to the side as you look down at him 

“A-am I what?” His voice is hoarse and his eyes turn wide as saucers 

“Are you good… at taking it?” You ask again and his heart nearly shoots out of his chest 

“I wouldn’t know,” he says simply, quietly. But damn is he starting to think he wants to find out 

“Are we talking about the same thing?” You giggle and he shrugs because he’s sure he’s got little hearts radiating in his eyes right now 

“I don’t know” 

You both leave it at that (much to his dismay) and you get off of him, going back over to your little setup and grabbing a dry towel from the pile Buck brought 

“Suns just about right for some last-minute tanning!” You say as you spread it out and grab another, spreading it out next to yours for him 

“Hey uh…just how private is this beach?” You ask and he looks up from the cooler where he’s grabbing two water bottles 

“Extremely, they kinda keep a tight lid on this but rent it out for parties and stuff sometimes” 

“So…there’s no danger of anyone showing up expectedly?” 

“None at all, Why?”

“I don’t really like tan lines” 

You turn away from Buck, slipping the straps of your swimsuit off and rolling it down your body so it looks like it’s just a pair of bottoms and he has to turn away before his sharks start to get a little too tight. 

He walks past you to his towel and you turn again, covering your chest with your arms 

“No peeking,” you say and he closes his eyes 

“Didn’t I literally full-on grab them earlier?” he asks and you kick his thigh lightly as you lay on your stomach, it’s not a sustainable position but it’ll be fine for a little while at least 

“Yeah, you did. You can look now” 

He looks over at you, laid out on your tummy with your legs crossed and your head resting on your hands and he smiles, shaking his head before looking up at the sky 

“I ever tell you how pretty you are?” 

You blush and shrug, “Not nearly enough” you tease 

He chuckles and scoots closer to you, your faces so close you can feel each breath he takes 

“You are the most stunning little thing I’ve ever met” His voice is husky as he turns over, trailing his fingertips down your back and you shiver under his touch “So beautiful and I get you all to myself”

“How lucky you are” you tease and he leans closer, kissing you softly 

“Damn right I am” 

You lay together in the sun for a while, just relaxing and occasionally talking. He likes to listen to you talk, he especially likes to listen to you laugh. He’s falling faster and faster every second and he’s starting to not care about Eddie saying he needs to wait to tell you he loves you 

As the sun finally starts to set, Buck gets up and dusts off his legs 

“You ready for your lil surprise?” He asks excitedly and you perk up, carefully sitting up and keeping your chest covered 

“Yeah!!” 

He turns around so you can fix your top again and picks up his towel, shaking it out 

“I wanted to just leave you here and surprise you more but to be honest I kind of want to show off” 

You snort as you get up, shaking out your own towel and taking his hand to walk back over to the chairs 

“Well whatever it is I’m excited about it” 

“You can help if you want! Or I can do it myself” 

“Well if you’d just tell me whatever it is, I’m sure I’d be happy to help” you tease him and he smirks as you both toss your towels down. He brings you a little ways away from your stuff and there’s a little pile of rocks and his sticks 

“Just make a big circle with the rocks in the sand alright? Brat” he smacks your butt and you swat his hand away, putting the rocks in a circle as he told you to, you make them pretty, setting them out nicely as he arranges his sticks in the middle 

“You know…” you start to help him pile his sticks “I’m pretty sure I know where this is going now and a firefighter starting a fire is pretty funny” 

“I’m an expert!! Trust me I can even start it with two sticks okay you’ll be so impressed!!” 

He gets up with a little pail and goes running off to the water and you watch him, shaking your head and groaning softly 

“Why is everything he does so damn cute???” 

You finish setting up the sticks for him as he comes back, setting the pail down. He can indeed start a fire with two sticks, and it is actually pretty impressive as the fire roars to life. He slowly throws some more sticks on it, feeding it carefully and you scoot next to him, putting your head on his shoulder 

“That’s pretty hot,” you tell him and he looks down at you

“Oh? Do you wanna scoot back??” 

You giggle and push him a little “No, Buck. You’re hot” 

His cheeks flush as he looks at the fire in front of you both and rolls his eyes “Oh, thanks” 

You wrap your arms around his and snuggle against him “No, thank you. Today was really really great” 

“You think so?” He pulls his arm away for a second, putting it around you instead and cuddling up with you. He kisses your head and you blush 

“Yeah I know so, I’ve never been so happy with someone before,” you say quietly and he smiles, laying his cheek on your head 

“Yeah me either” 

The sun finally sets, the air around you becoming colder as you cuddle in front of the fire. He reaches behind him and pulls over the cutest little box in the shape of a giant s’more and you laugh 

“Oh my god I love that” you smile as he hands you a skewer with a marshmallow on it and you put it over the fire 

“I saw it at Target and have never put something in my cart so fast it’s literally so cute and a total waste of money” 

You toast your marshmallows to a nice brown while Buck literally sets four on fire and this doesn’t surprise you in the least. He likes making them almost as much as he likes eating them. He looks over at you, a wide grin on his marshmallow-covered cheeks and you giggle, sitting on your knees in front of him and licking his cheek 

He snorts and tosses his head back “You could have just given me a napkin”

“No this is way funnier” You give his other cheek a little lick and he reaches forward, yanking you into his lap 

“Maybe I’ll just use you as a napkin!!” You squeak as he kisses all over your face before kissing your lips, he tastes good, like the sweet marshmallows and dark chocolate, and a little summery and warm. 

“Mmmph” You whimper against his lips and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He can’t get enough of your body, enough of your existence. 

“So gorgeous” He mumbles against your lips and you grin, nodding along with him 

“Damn right you are”

His cheeks flush as he gets a bit shy and pulls away some

“Why do you compliment me so much?” 

You look at him curiously, pulling away now too “What do you mean?”

“I just… you tell me I’m gorgeous or- or handsome” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” You look taken aback 

“I mean- why would you??” He asks quietly, looking up at the night sky and shrugging and you take a second, looking down at the sand before looking back at him and cupping his cheek to tilt his face to you… kind of understanding now where he’s coming from 

Evan Buckley is a breathtaking man. And you’re not sure anyone’s ever told him that he’s so much more than his looks. 

“Evan Buckley, you’re one of the sweetest, most caring guys I’ve ever met. You’re funny and sensitive. And I know you try your hardest with everything you do… I’m not- I'm not just into you for your looks Buck. I’m into you for your heart and the way you care for everyone around you with every last breath in your body. You save lives every day Buck! You’re a hero, you’re my hero” 

He didn’t mean to tear up, but he couldn’t help it, no one… no one really sees him for him when he goes on dates, sometimes his friends don’t even see him.

But you do. 

He wipes at his eyes quickly, clearing his throat and rolling his eyes trying to reign himself in before looking away from you 

“You’re such a sappy baby” 

Buck lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as he stares up at the stars. That’s his real surprise, how dark it is over here. You can see more than you ever have before. He looks over at you, watching the sky like he is and his heart melts. Your eyes are so wide and sweet, there are literal stars in your eyes

He can’t stop thinking about what you’d said, or the way you tackled him over after he called you a baby and tickled him until he had to run to the ocean to pee to which you screamed in horror and he started chasing you around the fire. 

“I love you” 

You look over at him, the fire illuminating your soft honeyed skin, and he’s sure he’s seeing an angel all over again. His heart hurts with how badly he wants you, the air is sucked from his lungs the longer he stares at you 

“I know” 

“You don’t have to say it back, we aren’t even together yet and you know today was amazing but we still have a lot to learn about each other and I love you.”

You smirk at him as he rambles, because honestly? Truly? It’s on the tip of your tongue too. 

“Eddie’s gonna kill me for this”

“I won’t tell if you won’t” You put out your pinky finger and he smiles, linking his with yours 

He drops you off at home around 2 again and he knows Athena is definitely gonna kill him for this. He always brings you home way too late. You make him park down the street from the house so you can climb into his lap and make out with him one more time before going in. It’s a bit messy, he doesn’t bother being proper as he feels you up, his hands sliding up and down your sides and over your ass. It makes you giggle against his lips and nip at them while pulling his hair back. 

“So you’ll come over tomorrow, right? Since we stayed out so late today and you’ll sleep over? Just me and you?” He looks so sweet and hopeful as he asks, like a cute little puppy wagging his tail for treats 

“That sounds like a perfect plan,” you tell him just as excitedly and he squeezes you, hugging you dramatically 

“I can’t wait to spend the night with you”

[monkey-overalls]

Madoka Magica Headcanons!

I’m also posting a drawing of the Holy Quintet (which will go up immediately after this), but I wanted to write some headcanons for each of them to go with it! I was originally going to put them under “Read More” on the drawing, but I eventually settled on separating the two because of how long the document got hahah.

Sexualities: Madoka, Kyoko, and Homura are all lesbians, Sayaka is bisexual, and Mami is demiromantic-pansexual.

Gender Identities: Madoka is a trans girl (she/her), Sayaka is a demigirl (she/they), and Kyoko, Mami, and Homura are all cis girls.

Height Order (tallest to shortest): Mami (by far), Sayaka, Homura, Madoka, Kyoko

🩷 Madoka 🩷

Loves cheesy romance movies, especially if they’re also coming-of-age stories. As long as they have a happy ending, Madoka will sit through any crappy flick (or an entire marathon of them). Mami joins her most of the time.

As Madokami, she has shimmering star freckles.

Started incorporating more purple into her wardrobe after becoming friends with Homura. At first this was unintentional, but upon noticing it, Madoka leaned even further into the new color scheme, especially after the two got together.

💙 Sayaka 💙

Once tried to learn the violin to impress Kyosuke, but her highly self-critical nature prevented her from going far. She thought he’d find her lackluster performance embarrassing.

100% had a crush on Madoka at some point, and only fully realized it once she came to terms with her feelings for Kyosuke. In some timelines she continues to pine for Madoka, while in others she starts falling for Kyoko instead. Maybe they form a polycule in another timeline or two (they do, they definitely do).

Despite what she may say, Sayaka (taken by the Law of Cycles) can never truly bring herself to hate Homura. She can’t help but empathize with her struggles and her descent into despair, as Sayaka remembers each and every time she hurt herself and the people around her out of sadness and anger.

❤️ Kyoko ❤️

Has burns running down her arms from when she tried to save her family from the fire started by her father. As far as I know, it’s never explicitly stated how exactly he went about killing them, but taking into account all of of the fire symbolism surrounding Kyoko and the imagery of her father’s head turning into a shattering lantern, I’m going to go with arson.

Doesn’t actually like tea all that much, but for a while she drank it at Mami’s apartment to be polite—after all, food is how Kyoko shows she cares about others. Mami caught on pretty quickly, however, and now stocks hot chocolate with mini marshmallows specifically for her.

In timelines where Mami dies, Kyoko squats in her apartment until police eventually catch on to her disappearance. From there, Kyoko moves in with Sayaka… until, you know.

💛 Mami 💛

Sleeps with a massive pile of stuffed animals so she never feels lonely. She’s never gotten rid of a single one, and, knowing this, her friends’ go-to gift for her is another plushie to add to her collection.

The beauty mark on her cheek is fake; she paints it on every morning.

In timelines where she and Nagisa live (including Homura’s rewritten world) they live together in Mami’s apartment. Their favorite activity is playing board games. Mami always lets Nagisa choose, and they love going out to search for more.

💜 Homura 💜

Constant eye bags. This girl never sleeps. Even before the time loop she suffered from extreme insomnia, which only worsened as her mental state declined. Mami gives her tea to help her sleep better, which helps a little but not enough to give her a healthy schedule.

Never takes Madoka’s ribbon off, even when she sleeps. The only exception is when she washes her hair, because that would obviously ruin it.

Has a secret sweet tooth that only Kyoko knows about (she hooks her up with the best sweets). Homura likes to present herself as a “one black coffee” type of girl, when in reality she could never drink a cup without a substantial amount of sugar.

[hail-brod]

Smile, Smile. 2

Gwen Stacy x FReader

Previous chapter: Part 1 || Masterlist

Gwen promised to herself that she would be sweeping you off your feet with elation the moment she sees you again. Well, a year of her disappearing into dimensions didn't sit quite well for the both of you. Or not.

Gwen was finally back home, in her own universe and this time she makes sure that she didn’t end up in a different one. A repeat of what happened to Miles the first time was disastrous as it is.

One call for her father was all it took before she was met by his paused form from the kitchen and not like before, he looked to be doing fine. For a second Gwen thought she did actually end up in a different universe but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, her shoulders sagged in relief.

“Welcome back.”

She didn’t waste a second to run up to his arms for a fairly long embrace.

Everything up to now was tough. Her father was one of the many important things in her life and she almost tried to abandon that warmth after her best friend’s death. It feels as though, she had lost hope on the people that was close to her but deep down inside, there was only one thing she wanted- and that was for them to understand her.

She was no longer a stray spider, webbing her way into one universe after another. This is where she belonged and she’ll cherish her time wisely because there is only one sole universe that she can call home. And she has one purpose that she intends to do. One of the many reasons that made her long to go back. That have always been nagging her mind ever since she was pushed in the light of things about your variants.

Your variants. Your other selves.

In some other dimension, you were dead. In some, you were alive and well. And in some, you were hopelessly trying to live until it does eventually start to swallow you whole.

You hid so many things with that same, damn. fucking. smile.

Gwen had so many questions about why. Why were you hurting? Why were you suffering? She wanted to know and it proved to be hard to find herself meddle about your life’s experiences. With Lyla’s help in gathering data about you, she came to understand some more things. You always know how to mend that perfect smile, easy to fool anyone with how optimistic it looks, until one certain thing happens that would crack your display as it will leave room for the following things that was meant to always happen to you. It was a part of your existence, and what lies behind your façade is your struggle to look at the brighter side of things.

And one major event that always happen is when you lose your one and only anchor in life, your older sibling.

Death would always play a big part on things and she hates it. Like a phase in life that no one can escape, but that’s life trying to overthrow the joys of living. Getting through it is never easy but there are always times that will make way for a new start. She believes that. There will always be someone that’ll come to wipe the tears away and someone that’ll crumble the walls down.

And Gwen doesn’t give a shit if she wasn’t fated to be by your side. She damn well knows what she wants and she won’t resist anymore, because you were her anchor when she felt like tearing the world apart.

Even her little crush on you seemed to bloom into something more. If she cared so much about you before—that that was clear enough when her mind was always finding ways to think of you—then now, it seems like she values nothing else but making your smile truer than you want it to be. She’ll be a friend to you even if she harboured feelings to you that you might not accept. She’ll be someone you can rely on whenever you’re at your lowest.

She’ll be the one to see the widest smiles that you can show.

She knows she’d been only speculating from different variants of you and she might be wrong in assuming your situation, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try to make things better. She has knowledge that she can put to use and she’s not about to waste a second in pondering over it. Way before knowing anything, you were not just someone she admired, you were also her friend. There’s no way something like canon can stop her. She learned that the hard way.

But there is one problem she has to face.

She has been away for a year

How would you feel about her suddenly appearing out of nowhere and being all buddy-buddy with you? She’d never really warn you about going away for quite a long time and she feels like a jerk for not doing so. How were you doing? Did you already forgot about her? Do you still consider as a friend? How funny is that when all this time she has been thinking about you throughout different dimensions then comes back to find out that you might’ve already been out of her reach.

It unnerves her, making her stomach churn.

She just hopes that isn’t the case.

But then, she almost paled when she discovered you haven’t been going to classes for the past few days. Her anxiety boiled within her like an incoming eruption of regret, and despair was about to fill her heart. She didn’t want to believe anything her mind whispers to her nor the uncanny way they mocked her for failing to be by your side.

“Gwen?” Then you called.

 

She can only frown at the voice. It was so familiar she immediately turned to look behind her. And you were standing there, alive and….well.

Were you?

But she could only freeze on the spot while she took in your sudden appearance (considering she was supposed to be the sudden one), a moment spent to readjust her thinking process that, you were there. Every inkling feeling of dread was washed down the drain once she completely realized that she hasn’t lost you. She wasn’t too late. Your shocked look was what she saw first- but that faded away when Gwen saw how your shoulders tensed down at the sight of her.

Then you smiled.

That same damn smile. Still blinding and enthralling. But she couldn’t help but doubt the honesty in your expression. Because she knows. Then again, she didn’t want to assume.

“You remember me.” Her stiff shoulders relaxed, chuckling lightly. “I thought you’ve already forgotten about me after a year.”

“What are you saying?” You frown, a hint of disbelief in your tone. “I may not have the best memory but you have left quite the impression on me, Gwen Stacy.”

Then you chuckle back before asking. “How…How have you been?”

Gwen stares at you. You were…lighthearted. From this simple reunion with you, it was hard not to think about how you actually feel but then, you hit her with the impression of an easygoing girl who has been nothing but peachy.

Scratch that. If she’s going to keep being a worrywart, that’s surely only going to make you feel obligated. She had one purpose and that is to be a close friend to you that you can lean on anytime.

“I’m quite fine actually.” She replies with a gentle smile. “Look, [Y/N], sorry about disappearing on you. I don’t want to give you excuses but- I just don’t want you to think that I left without thinking about you.” Gwen breathes out.

You find yourself speechless at her words before blinking. “Oh- Wha- H-Hey, no big deal. It’s fine really. I understand where you’re going with that and I’m not mad about it.” You let out a nervous laugh.

Gwen only gives you a pointed glance, observing your slight frantic form, still smiling at her genuinely that she can’t help but stare longer. No matter how many times she told herself that you were an angel, she still can’t wrap it around her head how forgiving you can be. Though, she won’t just let herself get away from a simple forgiveness just because you were too nice. She wants you to know how much she regrets leaving you for a year and she’s not backing down.

Smiling, she retorts. “Well, whether you like it or not, I’m going to annoy you every single day from now on. I’m back now and you’re the only one that I can really think of in this entire school so….beware.”

Giggling, Gwen locks her arm with yours as you could only look up to her with round eyes and gaping lips. Your visible shock wasn’t all that exaggerated but it was enough for Gwen to see the transition when you eventually cracked up a small laugh out of your lips.

Gwen’s heart swelled.

“I think… I don’t have a problem with that.” You commented, bringing out a modest smile. Though, she surely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed. Then you look at her with something that seemed so soft than your usual gaze. “Welcome back, Gwen.”

As simple as those words coming from your lips, it was enough to make her heart pound for you more. But she contains it- she tries.

“Only for you, [Y/N].” She says without hesitating.

Was that too much? Did she sounded like she was flirting?

Her thoughts wanted to spiral out of control but by that time, it was unavoidable to feel the rising embarrassment up her cheeks and one last resort she could only think of was drag you deeper in the halls of your school. She likes to think that she handled that quite smoothly but she knows she faltered and flinched at how she acted out.

Awkward, maybe.

But fortunately, when Gwen sneakily glanced at you- she pretended she didn’t just see how you meekly shifted your gaze away from her as your face burned darker in red.

Oh.

She can feel her pride rising up.

Even if that gives her some sort of hope for a higher relationship with you, she’s going to set that aside…for now. After all, being friends with you has always been one of the many things she came to cherish.

.

You liked Gwen.

She was…a great friend. She was someone you never thought would be willing to stick by your side; longer than you’d expect. You saw her as someone that’s so easygoing and a good-hearted person. But on the contrary, some of the people you know say the opposite views about her.

Gwen Stacy.

The girl that you only saw in the corridors of your school and a schoolmate that you never really paid much attention to. She was just someone that you knew from afar, her name mentioned here and there from a few of your other friends, the common and casual way of hearing about someone. You never judged her based on the whispers and gossips that the other students would mumble about because you simply didn’t want to be that kind of person who adheres to baseless claims of people they clearly didn’t knew anything about. So when you got to meet her personally, you didn’t threw her under the bus.

You didn’t really care much if your judgments were to be proven wrong but the fact that Gwen herself was the one to approach you was enough for you to accept her friendship.

But at the end, you thought it was only going to be a one-time friendly interaction that will eventually fade after a few weeks. You knew people didn’t found you interesting enough to stick by and it was always the case with everyone you knew.

You never had deep connections with others and you weren’t aware you could actually do. People will always leave no matter what the stakes are and you’ve come to accept that as the norm.

But you were wrong.

Gwen proved you wrong. For as much as many times you see each other at school, hallways, library or even bathroom—she never failed to give you attention and acknowledge your presence as if you were the most interest thing she had ever seen that day. Her smiles greet you with so much elation that you never really came to acknowledge how different she makes you feel. How gentle she taps unto the corners of your mind and that in a single moment, you’ve considered her as a friend that you never had.

In no time, you became fond of her.

Though, neither of you tapped into closer bonds. Or more like, you feel that Gwen was holding herself back. And that pinched something inside your heart.

But the more the days went by with her distancing herself from you, the more you feel like- that was it. You really thought you could have the one single thing you have always wanted. That one belonging feeling you’ve always wanted to experience with a peer that can understand and share whatever feelings or sentiments you genuinely want to show. A newborn fear enraged itself inside you and it felt like...you were being dragged down deeper in the hells of your mind.

Then…

You never saw Gwen again.

You never thought you were capable of feeling a different kind of ache in your heart after that, leaving a crack that you didn’t know would fare far worse in the future.

At least, supposedly.

Because when you recognized her back facing you, blonde hair with an undercut on the side, your heart almost leaped out of your chest.

That day…...you genuinely smiled.

Previous chapter: Part 1 || Masterlist

Ko-fi?

[mapisgf]

Get her back part 1 ?

Today was your first day at Arsenal and you were nervous. Actually nervous was an understatement. You were going to see her for the first time since you both played at Bayern Munich together. You had to admit you were a little jealous of Vivianne when you played together. She was the first choice and always in the starting eleven but you also admired her in secret she was too good. Scoring hat tricks regularly and even then she barely celebrated. 

You met with Leah first and she greeted you with a smile and a hug. “We're so excited you're here.” 

“Yeah, I've been looking forward to meeting you all for so long.” You weren't looking forward to seeing her though. 

“And at least you have some familiar faces here. I know you and Viv played together at Bayern.” Just hearing  her name made your heart drop. You hated her and you couldn't believe you put yourself in a position where you could be second best again. 

2 years ago 

You were in the starting eleven which was rare but Vivianne was not well enough to start. Everything was always about her. You couldn't help but look for her everywhere. You told yourself it was because you wanted to avoid her and you definitely didn't stalk her instagram even though she rarely posted.

You were having the best match of your life but then you got a yellow card and the game was becoming riddled with fouls from the other side. They were targeting you. Everyone knew it and when someone pushed you you couldn't help but push back. Then you saw a red card in your face. You didn't even bother arguing, you just kicked the ball away and walked off racing down the hall. You ended up sitting in you cubby tears of frustration polling in  your eyes you couldnt believe you messed up an opportunity. Then you started thinking about a certain striker. What would she have done? You couldn't even stand to think about her so you were even more upset when you heard her voice and felt her hand on your shoulder.

“It wasn't your fault y/n.” You looked up at her shrugging her hand off. 

“Don't act like you care Vivianne.” You stood up and you felt the blood rush to your head. 

“Fine, I was just trying to be nice. I don't know why you're such a bitch.” You decided it was best to just walk off but then you felt a hand pull you back. You knew she was going to apologize but before she could say anything you grabbed her face between your hands and kissed her. You weren't gentle and neither was she. She pulled back a few seconds later. Holding your face in her hands now.

“Y/N….” Her cheeks were a rosey shade and her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“I'm sorry.” That was the last time you saw each other. 

Present.

“Hey Y/n it's nice to see you again"

suffering writers block but i am so obsessed with her

[crimsoncold]

Just me reflecting on Sansa Stark, her Show Character Arc, and how one aspect of the show that I was critical of (some of the later costume design choices for Sansa and what they meant for her character arc and what they indicate about the attitudes of the writers) in turn helped inspire my art...

So I've been working on an art piece on and off since February and it might just be my favorite portrait I've ever done-both for how it turned out and for the inspiration behind it...

Before I started this piece I was dwelling a bit on my dissatisfaction with some of D&D's handling of this character in the later seasons... and soon came about the desire to do a portrait that incorporates the intensity, strength, and resilience of Sansa Stark while still getting to embrace and maintain some of the general softness, feminity, and romanticism that characterized her appearance and personality in the book and earlier seasons of the show...

It always seemed shitty to me that the show felt it had to squash out any traditionally feminine or more girly aspects of her appearance and personality to show that she should be taken seriously as a character

....As though these aspects are some sort of flaw Sansa had surpassed and that erasing her "softer" traits is some powerful cumulation or amazing visual cue for her character arc.... "Look she dresses all in black... she doesn't need or trust anyone...she put away all her childish dreams and hopes...doesn't she finally seem like a real stark....isnt she now so gritty and impressive - isn't this the best sort of ending/arc for Sansa!"

In reality this trope is lazy, over done, and reeks of underlying misogyny (Sansa was hardly the only character to get- or suffer from- this visual treatment in the later seasons of Game of Thronew but I'd argue that for her this choice was distinctly disappointing and had some important consequences/implications for her character arc)

Sansa’s biggest strength should have always remained her ability to maintain her kindness and compassion despite the horrors and mistreatment she experienced... and a satisfying arc should have involved her having the ability to demonstrate both her natural empathy and the burgeoning ability to apply said compassion in a more careful and considered manner which would live up to the values of her parents/family and ensure that the north (after experiencing such immense betrayal chaos and hardship) once again thrives under a just and fair ruler.

So I wanted to make a portrait of that would embody the sort of ending/arc (and be the sort of tribute) I think she deserves... (that the unfinished book series has not provided and that she certainly did not get in the tv series)

Looking at the core of this character and the ways the writing/narrative of the show ultimately let her and the audience down I have the following thoughts...

Sansa is strong enough to face and outlast every villain who targeted her family and tried to manipulate and use her as a child...

....Fierce enough to rally support to reclaim her ancestral home and land

... determined enough to hold Winterfell and the North's independence against any invader that wished to subjugate them...

....who- in a manner deserving far more praise than it gets-kept her integrity compassion even when at her most powerless and vulnerable...

... whose love of stories and songs or even beautiful dresses is not something that deserved erasure or ridicule

...who had hopes and dreams about family, marriage, motherhood, and being reunited with her siblings that despite how hard life - and the showrunners- tried to stomp out of her actually deserved to evolve into something grounded and real ... (fulfilled in winterfell with a worthy partner rather than being abandoned entirely as she is left isolated in the north without any of her surviving kin).

The sort of ending I want for the QITN is one celebrating her survival, her resilience, and strength of character... as well as rejoicing and still embracing who she is as a person... including her more traditional and feminin interests/hobbies/appearance, her hopes and dreams for her future and family, and her inherently compassionate nature (which is a strength all on its own).

Ned Stark's daughter, the blood of Winterfell, who will rule the north with the reverent support of her people, with an incredible mix of ferocity in the face of adversity and compassion in the face of need, who will not stand idly by and let vultures pick away at her remaining family, (or fall for any of the bullshit spewed out from an invading conquerer and their yes men advisors)...

...all the while she should still get to eat lemoncakes, sew, listen to stories, sing songs, experience love and family with her siblings and one day through her marriage and children, while she still gets to wear whatever fucking beautiful dress she wants 💙

And while this portrait may not cover every aspect of her ending that I hope she gets in the books and wished she got in the show- i'll save those aspects for my other sansa (or jonsa) centric art pieces- I am satisfied that it managed to captured some of her determination and strength while also presenting her in a way that does not judge or erase her more feminine characteristics.

Now For anyone who decided to read through my very rambly thoughts thank you and have a little glimpse at what the ongoing process has been like for this portrait as a treat...

- Crimson Cold