#they need her to be the one who reminds them all where they started

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, here’s the arrival of part 3 of “Just Tired”. I’m so glad that there’s been so much interest in this series! I’m wanting to make this series as realistic as possible for someone going through it as I still struggle with the trauma for when I went through it, even though I escaped him at the end of 2021. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I was listening to Angel Eyes by ABBA as it seemed fitting lol. Would have posted this earlier but I was watching the chiefs get their asses handed to them. Go Birds! 🦅

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Just Tired -Part 3

Warnings: Manipulation relationship, small masturbation part, Melissa going through some confusion

Words: 3.75

You awake at 5am to your alarm going off and you shut it off before you get ready. You hop in the shower and in there you can’t help your mind drift to Melissa and how beautiful she looks, even when she was downright ignoring you.

“Stop it, mind! She’s married.” You remind yourself. But that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering down to your clit and start circling it.

You lean against the shower wall and close your eyes as you picture Melissa being there. You imagine how her lips would feel all over you, how she might make you come. Would she want to use her tongue or her fingers or even a strap? You honestly wouldn’t say no to any of those if she was asking. You then feel yourself right at the edge and you start circling faster and then you come. You quickly have your shower and then you get ready and leave at 6:30. You walk up to her house at 6:58 and you knock on her door. She opens the door a few seconds later and she takes your breath away.

“Hey Y/n, just gotta grab my things then we can go.” She says and you nod.

“Alright.” You say and then take a step back and watch as she gathers all her things. When you step back you notice her ‘Go Away!’ welcome mat and you snort. “Nice mat.” You tell her as she steps outside and she smiles.

“It’s to ward off unwanted visitors.” She says as she locks the door.

“Does it work?”

“Most of the time, yes.” She says and you both walk to her car. “Apparently it doesn’t work on family.” She adds and you smile.

“Good to know.” You tell her. “So you giving me rides, does this make us acquaintances?” You ask her and she looks at you before starting the car.

“No, this is me just helping someone in need, and I’m not going out of my way to help them.”

“So you have a heart then.” You say and she rolls her eyes at you before bringing the car onto the street. “So is the husband not up?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“He doesn’t get up until another half hour. He doesn’t have to be at the fire station until 9.” She tells you.

“He’s a firefighter?” You ask her and she nods.

“Yep.” She says and you take your phone out and go on your social media. You look up Melissa on Facebook and then you click on the name where it says who she’s married to and see a picture of him.

“And what exactly do you see in this… Joe?” You ask her and she looks at you quickly before turning her attention back to the road.

“Did you just look at my account?” She asks.

“Obviously. But what exactly do you see in him? I mean there’s ones much better looking than him.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’m gay not blind.” You tell her and she snorts.

“We met in college and he was really nice to me. He kept talking to me, giving me gifts that he knew I’d like, listening to what I say, wanting to spend all his free time with me, even before he asked me out.” She tells you and two words come to your mind when she says this, love bombing. You don’t say anything as it’s not your place and it was probably like over 20 years ago and you’re sure things are different now.

“So why are you so closed off?” You ask her to change the subject.

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” She asks.

“I don't normally, only when something catches my interest.” You say and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“And I caught your interest?” She asks and you nod.

“You seem like an interesting person, and you wanting to say nothing about your life only makes you more interesting. You’re a mystery.” You tell her.

“And I like to remain a mystery.” She tells you.

“You know I could probably just ask Barb questions about if I really want, I mean you two seem close.” You say.

“Barb and I have been best friends for over a decade and she knows I like my privacy. She won’t tell you a thing.” She says to you and you lean back in the seat and pout.

“Are we close enough for me to at least know your favourite colour?” You ask her.

“It’s pink.” She says and you give her a weird look. “What?”

“The badass of Abbott likes pink? I would have never guessed that.”

“What’s wrong with pink?”

“It’s seen as a colour for little girls, especially when Barbie came out.” You explain.

“Alright, what colour do you like?” She asks.

“F/C.”

“Ok, interesting.” She says as she pulls up into the parking lot of Abbott and then you both get out and walk into the building.

*In the break room*

“I’m telling you that I saw Melissa purposely go up and start talking to Y/n. And not only that but it seemed like there was some attraction there as well.” Janine tells Jacob.

“It doesn’t matter for Melissa if there’s attraction, she’s married to a nice ma… she’s married.” Barb tells them. “She has never cheated on him and she doesn’t intend to. And has never thought about leaving him either…even though she should.” Barb adds and she gets a weird look from Janine and Jacob.

Just then you and Melissa both enter the break room and everyone looks at you both.

“What are youse looking at?” Melissa asks them.

“This is the third day where you get here at the same time.” Jacob says as you go to sit down with him and Janine.

“We just end up getting here at the same time. Is that a crime?” You ask them.

“Ok what about yesterday? I saw Melissa and you talking and smiling.” Janine asks you.

“Janine, what exactly are you asking?” You ask her and cross your arms.

“Is there an attraction between you two?” She bluntly asks. “You have mentioned you’re into hot older gingers and Melissa fits that.” She adds.

“Ok, first of all, Melissa and I were talking about our job yesterday as she was nice enough to give me pointers. Second of all, yes Melissa is a hot older ginger but she’s married and we’re not even acquaintances as Melissa very clearly told me that she barely talks to newbies.” You tell everyone and they shut up after that.

“So what pointers did Melissa give you yesterday?” Janine asks after a couple minutes.

“She told me to not do my lesson plan so far in advance and expect to fall behind, don’t be too stressed that it’s my first year of teaching on my own and she generously took a look at my first week lesson plan and said it was good and the kids will enjoy it.” You tell them and you weren’t lying as Melissa did actually tell you all those things.

“Melissa, you gave her that advice?” Barb asks her and Melissa nods.

“I don’t like communicating with newbies but the kid looked like she was gonna have a panic attack, I wasn’t gonna sit by and do nothing.” Melissa tells her.

“Oh Janine and Jacob, would you help me hang a few things that require 2 people?” You ask them and they immediately nod.

“As long as it’s not on a ladder.” Janine says and you nod.

“You’re not climbing a ladder, it’s not high.” You tell her.

Melissa watches from her desk as you and Jacob hang some stuff up and Janine directs you both to make sure it’s straight. Melissa’s mind starts to wander. She doesn’t know why but you seem to have caught her interest a bit. Her telling you her husband doesn’t forgive her just honestly slipped out and she doesn’t why she said it. Of course her husband forgives her every time. And then she tries to remember when was the last time he said he’s sorry and she can’t remember.

“I’m telling you it’s straight.” She hears Janine says.

“It doesn’t look straight to me.” She hears you counter. She then gets up and leans against her doorframe with her arms crossed. She sees you and Janine a few feet away from her and you’re looking at your board.

“You two are loud.” She says and catches both of your attention.

“How about we ask Melissa?” You tell Janine.

“No, she’ll just side with you as you’re friends.” Janine counters.

“Ya, we’re not friends.” Melissa says and goes to stand beside Janine and looks at the board. “And it’s not straight.” She says and sees you sticking your tongue out at Janine. “It’s a little high on the left.” She adds and then goes back to her door. “Try to keep it down this time.” She says and then walks inside her classroom.

At lunchtime she gets there before anyone else does and takes a few seconds to decompress as she gets her salad out. Everyone else comes in about a minute later and Barb gets her lunch and sits down and immediately notices Melissa is looking stressed.

“Are you alright?” Barb asks her.

“Ya, just a headache.” Melissa says softly.

Barb knows that she’s lying. But she also knows Melissa enough to know that she’s not ready to say anything and she’ll tell her when she is ready.

“Want some ibuprofen?” You ask since you heard as you were at the coffee maker. “I always carry some as I can get some painful cramps when menstruating. And that’s probably too much information.” You immediately say and it gets Melissa to crack a smile.

“It’s not that type of headache, but thanks hon.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

“Want some coffee? New batch is ready.” You offer and she nods and gives you her coffee mug.

“Thanks kid.” She says as you hand her the mug back with coffee.

“Y/n, do you have any plans this weekend?” Janine asks you as you join her and Jacob at the table.

“Probably just watch the game, I hope the Eagles hand the cowboys their asses.” You say and you don’t notice Melissa smiling at that comment.

“What about you?” You ask her and she goes into some detailed plan about what her and Tariq are doing this weekend.

When lunch ends, you all get up to go but Melissa stops you and Janine.

“Just wanted to let you both know that around February is when I do this Peter Rabbit art project with the kids and each of your second graders can join as well.” She says to you both.

“Oh that sounds exciting. What do they usually make?” You ask her.

“A rabbit face from paper plates.” She says.

“Oh that sounds fun, definitely count my class in as it sounds exciting. Y/n is your class going to join?” Janine asks.

“Definitely count my class in as well, they’ll enjoy that.” You tell Melissa and she nods before she goes back to her classroom.

At the end of the day, you pack up your things and you head out the door and you run into Jacob and Janine and you have a conversation with them for a few minutes before they both head to their cars. You start to head to the bus stop when Melissa stops you.

“My car is the other way.” She tells you and you turn around to face her.

“I didn't know how long your offer was by driving me home.” You tell her.

“Until you can get gas in your car.” She says and you smile before following her to her car. You both don’t notice everyone watching you both as you get in Melissa’s car.

“Thanks again.” You tell her as you do up your seatbelt and she pulls out. “So how long have you done the Peter Rabbit project for?” You ask her.

“Since I started working here, almost 15 years ago.” She tells you. “By the way, do you really think I’m hot?” She asks you and you furrow your eyebrows. “You told Janine that in the break room this morning.” She clarifies.

“Well of course you are. You honestly don’t need all that makeup.” You tell her and you see her smiling and a hint of a blush on the cheek that you see.

Melissa gets home a few minutes after dropping you off and she immediately goes to the kitchen for a glass of wine. She takes a deep breath after she takes a few sips and puts her head in her hands. She keeps getting compliments and praises from you and she doesn’t know how to react. She then realises that it’s been awhile since she received any from Joe and a tear slips down her cheek but she quickly wipes it off.

“Don’t cry, I’m not sensitive.” She tells herself and takes a big sip of her wine.

She has 2 glasses of wine and ends up falling asleep on the couch. When Joe gets home, he leaves her be and goes to reheat leftovers and watches tv in the bedroom. Melissa gets home a couple hours later and immediately goes to eat. After she eats she hears the tv on upstairs and goes to see Joe.

“Finally awake?” Joe asks her and she nods her head.

“You could have woken me up.” She tells him.

“I wanted to watch tv by myself anyway without being asked for cuddles or any kisses.” He tells her.

“I’m sorry, I know sometimes I might be too needy and I’m trying not to be.” She tells him and she goes downstairs to watch tv by herself.

She falls asleep on the couch again and wakes up around 4am. She gets her phone out and sees that it’s dead so she charges it as she makes breakfast. She eats and then she puts some in a container for Joe when he gets up. She gets ready for work and then she goes outside a few minutes early and sees you pull up on your bike.

“I woke up late but I don’t remember biking being this tiring.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.

“You can leave it in the backyard for now.” She tells you and you nod. You come back out a couple minutes later and you get in the car.

The car ride this time was pretty quiet as you tried to make conversation but wasn’t getting replies. She pulls up 10 minutes later and you both get out and walk inside. This time you actually don’t head to the break room, you turn into your hallway and head to your classroom instead. It takes Melissa about 30 seconds to notice as she was in her own world and wanted to question you but you were too far ahead.

“Did you and Y/n not arrive at the same time today?” Barb asks her.

“No, I saw her come in, she went to her classroom for whatever reason.” Melissa explains.

“Interesting thing yesterday, I saw her get in your car when we were all leaving for the day.” Barb says and everyone looks at Melissa.

“Oh, well that’s none of youse businesses.” Melissa says. Right after she says that, you walk in and you head straight for the coffee machine.

“Y/n, we all saw you go in Melissa’s car yesterday.” Janine immediately tells you and you shrug.

“Cool.” Is all you say and pour yourself a cup and head back to your classroom. Janine and Jacob sensed something must be wrong and follow you out.

“So Melissa, now that we’re alone, want to tell me what’s happening?” Barb asks Melissa.

“On Tuesday I saw Y/n on the side of the road in my neighbourhood and she said she ran out of gas. I’ve just been giving her rides as she lives like a minute away from me, that’s all.” Melissa explains.

“Well that’s nice of you.” Barb says and really looks at Melissa. “Is something wrong?”

“What do you think of Joe?” Melissa asks her and Barb tilts her head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Y/n has actually given me compliments in the week she’s been here, more compliments than Joe has given me in the past year. So what does that say?” Melissa asks her.

“That Joe doesn’t give compliments.” Barb simply says. “Melissa, I’ve given my opinion on Joe many times over a decade ago and you always gave reasons why I was wrong. I stopped trying as you kept defending your marriage with him.”

“Well you never had a lot of nice opinions about him but you never knew him like I do.” Melissa states.

“You’re right, I don’t. And I hope he’s changed since then.” Barb says and goes back to her cup of coffee.

*Your classroom*

“So you went on a date 2 months ago with a girl, but stayed friends and she invited you to watch the game at a bar this weekend?” Janine says and you nod.

“I thought like everyone else that she’d just forget me and we’d never talk again.” You tell them.

“So you have a new friend, what’s the problem?” Jacob asks you.

“She’s a little crazy.” You tell them. “I’m just hoping that after the game, she never wants to speak to me again.” You add.

Melissa gets to her classroom and sees your door is closed but can see Jacob and Janine standing near your desk from the little window on the door.

The morning goes by quickly for Melissa, and before she knows it, it’s lunchtime and she heads to the break room and gets her lunch.

“So I was notified this morning by a parent of one of my students that I’m getting.” You say to Janine and Jacob.

“And what did they want?” Janine asks.

“They wanted to let me know that they tested their daughter over the summer and apparently this kid is dyslexic.” You tell them and that catches Melissa’s attention and she turns around to look at you.

“Do you know how to teach a dyslexic child?” Melissa asks you and you shake your head.

“No, but I could just google some ways to help her.” You tell her and she nods and goes on her phone.

You go to your classroom and an hour later Melissa walks in and closes your door behind her and walks up to your desk where you’re arranging some papers.

“Melissa, what can I-”

“Can you switch the dyslexic kid over to my class?” She asks you and you tilt your head.

“Why?” You ask her.

“I can help her better.” She states and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Look I know I’m new but I’m pretty sure I’m not an idiot.” You say and she sighs.

“It’s not about you being new, it’s the fact that you can’t relate to her.” She says and the gears in your head are turning until it dawns on you.

“You’re dyslexic?” You ask her and she nods.

“I haven’t had a student who’s dyslexic and I feel like I can help her the same way that I was.” She says and you smile.

“Of course, want to go to the principal to make the transfer right now?” You ask her and she looks taken back.

“Wait, you’re not going to say no?” She asks and you shrug.

“Since you’re dyslexic then you might be the best teacher to help her.” You tell her and you go to your door. “Come on, let’s go see Principal Coleman.” You say and she follows you to Ava��s office.

“What do you two want?” Ava asks you.

“We want to transfer a student from my class to Melissa’s class.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes before she gets to one of the women in the office and you follow her.

“Can you do a classroom transfer?” She asks her and the woman nods. “She’ll help you with that.” Ava tells you both and you nod.

“Thank you.” You say and you and Melissa get the transfer done. “I’ll also send you the email that the parents sent me. They said a couple ways that they’ve noticed have helped her.” You tell Melissa on the way back and she nods.

“Ok, thank you.” She tells you and you nod.

“I’ll also notify the parents and tell them about the transfer.” You tell her and she nods. “Do you mind if I tell them that you’re dyslexic as well?” You ask her.

“No, that’s alright. It’ll probably make them happier that their daughter’s teacher has the same thing.” She says.

“Alright, I’ll forward you the email right away.” You tell her and go inside your classroom.

Melissa receives the email a few minutes later and sees the ways to best help her and writes it down.

She goes through the rest of what she needs to get done and finishes about an hour before the day ends. She stays on her phone for the rest of the day and waits a few minutes for you in the parking lot.

“You waited for me?” You ask her as she’s leaning against her car.

“Well I offered you rides, plus your bike is at my place.” She says. “I’m gonna drive to my place and you can bike home.” She tells you and you nod.

“Sounds good.” You say.

Melissa drives you both to her place and you go to get your bike right away.

“Hey Melissa.” You say as you come out with your bike and she looks at you. “I can probably actually just bike to and from school.”

“You ran out of breath biking for like 5 minutes. How are you going to survive for another 30 minutes?” She asks you and you shrug. “Mm, I’ll see you Monday at 7.” She tells you and then goes inside. You put your helmet on, get on your bike and start biking back home. Melissa watches from the window as you leave and she sighs. “What the fuck am I doing?” She says out loud and goes to get some wine and chocolate.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[mrspiastri]

I would like to request a desi girl x lewis fic

desi munda 🪅

pairing: lewis hamilton x desi!reader

cw: fluff, lewis being a bit negative etc etc

wc: 2k words

an: thanks anon, hope u like my first lewis fic!

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

“The last time I felt like this before a race was probably in 2008. It’s madness,” Lewis lamented in his driver’s room as he put on his fireproofs, getting ready to review the final data before hopping into the car.

“Well, it probably has to do with the fact that you’re racing in India after more than a decade. Unfamiliar track and all that jazz,” Y/N responded from where she was seated on the couch, filing her nails and adding the final touches to her makeup.

“I think it might be more because my gorgeous girlfriend won’t even look at my face,” he commented with a slight grin as he shimmied into his race suit.

She playfully rolled her eyes, snapping her compact mirror shut and stuffing it into her purse before looking at him. “There, now I’m all yours.” She smiled up at him as he walked across the room, towering over her.

“I think you’ve got a lot of pressure on you today, and not just from Fred and the team,” Y/N stated, making Lewis groan before plopping down next to her on the couch in a less-than-graceful manner.

“If you’re talking about your family, then yes, it’s probably that. I think I saw all your cousins and your aunts in the first three rows of the grandstands,” he muttered pitifully, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. She took pity on him, wrapping her arms around him as he continued ranting.

“I know they’re excited to see their future son-in-law doing what he does best—” Y/N let out an incredulous grunt at this—“but this is INSANE! I might die of stress, honestly.”

She laughed at him before holding his chin and making him look up at her. “You’re going to do wonderful, Lew. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. They all know you’re the best damn driver on the grid; they’re just excited to see you in your element.”

“But if I don’t win, they’re going to think I’m useless. A washed-up, no-good idiot who can’t even win a stupid race,” he sighed, slumping further down, letting his negative thoughts take over.

Y/N sat up straighter at this. “I know you’re not talking about yourself like that. Lewis, you are an amazing driver, and you know that very well,” she said firmly, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Besides, my whole family loves you! You could come dead fucking last, and they’d still cheer. Heck, you could DNF, and they’d cheer as you brought your car into the pits to retire from the race.”

Lewis let out a dry laugh at that. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“I just... I don’t want them to think I’m a loser. I want them to see me as a part of their family—as your future husband. If they see me lose, they’ll think I’m not good enough for you,” he finally admitted, revealing what had been weighing on him ever since Y/N told him her family would be attending the race.

Y/N was silent, emotions warring inside her. On one hand, she was shocked he thought so lowly of himself and his reputation in front of her family. But on the other hand, the fact that he had thought so far ahead about their future made her want to grab his face and kiss him until he forgot every single doubt in his head.

“Lew, I promise you—whatever happens today won’t change their perception of you. To them, you are the coolest, most enigmatic person ever. And you’re *definitely* the best catch out of all the other partners my family members have brought home. I mean, come on, who can beat a seven-time Formula One World Champion?”

A knock at the door interrupted them, a staff member reminding Lewis that he had to check the final corrections made to the car after qualifying before the formation lap started in 15 minutes.

“I’ll meet my parents in the garage; you go on ahead,” she said, standing up and adjusting the red dress she wore, showing her full support for the Ferrari driver.

Lewis got into the car, checking if the throttle and steering were working fine. “Seems good. Wanna start the lap?” he asked his engineers, receiving an affirmative response.

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on his skin. “A kiss for good luck—and to remove the stupid thoughts in your head.”

“I was hoping for a proper one,” Lewis playfully pouted up at her.

“That’s for after the race. You gotta have something to look forward to, na?”

He simply laughed before putting on his helmet. The sound of his car revving up echoed in the garage as he exited. Y/N, meanwhile, made her way to the back where her parents waited for her, smiling at the conversation she had just had with Lewis.

“He seems stressed. Hope it doesn’t affect his performance,” her dad pointed out, making her sigh in worry.

“He is. Honestly, he’s more worried about disappointing the family than he is about losing,” she confided.

“I hope you told him he’s crazy for even thinkingthat,” her mother gasped.

Y/N winked while putting her headphones on. “You know it.”

🪺🪺🪺

It was the final lap of the race. Lewis had overtaken Max at the start of lap 37, after tailing him for more than half of the race. In the Ferrari garage, tensions were high, with both drivers in podium positions.

As the checkered flag waved, Lewis soared past it, clinching victory in front of his girlfriend’s home crowd and further cementing Ferrari’s Constructors’ Championship title contention.

The announcers’ voices boomed throughout the grandstands, the crowd erupting into cheers. Everyone at the Ferrari garage ran out to celebrate with Lewis and Charles in parc fermé, the latter having placed third. Y/N and her parents were escorted to where the podium finishers had gathered their cars.

Lewis stood on his car, bowing to the roaring fans with his palms pressed together in a namaste pose—just like she had taught him.

The team cheered him and Charles on, with pats on the back and massive hugs. Lewis was all smiles, scanning the crowd until his eyes found Y/N, waving at him from behind the barriers.

He ran up to her, lifting her off the ground in the biggest hug he could manage without hoisting her over the barrier. She hugged him tighter, his helmet getting in the way.

He pulled it off, handing it to a team member before pulling her in again. “Now, about that kiss you mentioned earlier...” he grinned.

“You are impossible!” Y/N laughed, playfully pushing his chest.

“Good thing you love it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t let him suffer for long. She leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slow and lingering, as if they wanted to memorize the feel of each other. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his race suit, anchoring herself in his warmth.

The crowds, the cheers, the cameras—it all faded into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads rested together, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I forgot we were in public for a second.”

He chuckled, fingers tracing her back. “Me too. Hope your dad doesn’t beat the shit out of me.”

Her parents decided to turn a blind eye to the couple, instead focusing on congratulating Lewis on his win. However, he couldn’t help but notice her father slapping his back just a little harder than necessary, a certain look in his eye that made Lewis straighten up.

🪺🪺🪺

Later, in the Ferrari hospitality, Y/N groaned as Lewis reached for her.

“Please shower! The champagne and sweat combined make me want to puke.”

Lewis, of course, ignored this, chasing her around until he finally caught her in his grasp—sweat, champagne, and all.

“You’re so disgusting. I just washed my hair, yaar.”

Her smirk, however, gave her away.

“Well, Lewis,” her cousin quipped, “you’ve definitely earned your spot in the family now.”

Lewis grinned. “Well, I’d hope so. It was very nice of you all to come out today—really motivated me. And scared the living shit out of me.”

The whole room burst into laughter. Her father cleared his throat, eyeing the two of them. “You’ve done well today, beta. You’ve got speed, skill, and determination—but most importantly, you make my daughter happy.

Lewis straightened slightly, sensing the weight of the moment. “That means the world to me, sir.”

Her father studied him for a beat before nodding approvingly. “Good. Now go shower before you suffocate us with that champagne stench.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “I told you.” Lewis laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s temple before heading off. “I’ll be back—don’t have too much fun without me.”

🪺🪺🪺

The afterparty was in full swing by the time Lewis and Y/N arrived. The upscale venue was buzzing with energy—team members, rival drivers, and VIP guests mingled over glasses of champagne, the hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the music playing overhead.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, celebratory drinks, and the undeniable electricity of victory.

When the doors opened, all heads instinctively turned toward the couple making their entrance.

Lewis Hamilton, still glowing from his win, walked in with Y/N by his side, her right arm slotted in the crook oh his left one. They were well dressed as always — Lewis in a well-fitted, deep blue kurta, a nod to Y/N’s heritage, and Y/N in a breathtaking red saree that shimmered under the golden lights. The rich fabric draped over her in a way that left little to the imagination, her bangles softly jingling as she adjusted her hold on his arm.

“Well, don’t we look like a power couple?" Charles teased, raising his glass as they approached.

Y/N smirked. "You’re just jealous, Charlie."

“Of the matching outfits or the fact that you two have already stolen all the attention?" Carlos chimed in with a grin.

Lewis chuckled, placing a protective hand on the small of Y/N’s back. "Can’t blame them. My girl does clean up pretty damn well."

Y/N turned to him, eyes dancing with amusement. "Only fair, considering I dressed you."

Lewis leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor by looking this good." She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she tugged him toward the bar.

"Come on, Mr. Race Winner, let’s get you a drink before you get too cocky." The bartender barely had a chance to ask before Charles called out, "A whiskey for the champion and—Y/N, what are you drinking?"

"White wine," she replied.

Lewis took the glass from the bartender and handed it to her before raising his own in a silent toast. "To surviving your family’s initiation," he joked.

She laughed softly, clinking her glass against his. "Oh, you’re not done yet. This is just the beginning. But let’s talk about that later, because the only thing I’m focusing on is how good you look in this kurta.”

He laughed, “Well you’re the one who said I should wear this instead of the red one I wanted to go with.”

“It’s called contrast, and we’re pulling it off well. Besides, you look much more handsome in this, like a proper desi munda.

Lewis narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "That sounds both adorable and terrifying. Should I be worried?"

Y/N smirked, "Don’t worry about it.”

Before he could question her, the music shifted to something slower, more sultry, and Lewis took that as his cue. Handing his glass to Carlos, he turned to Y/N with a familiar glint in his eye.

"May I have this dance?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You? Dancing at a public event?"

Lewis smirked, pulling her toward him without waiting for an answer. "For you? Always."

And just like that, in the middle of the celebration, the world shrank down to just the two of them—spinning, laughing, and getting lost in each other, a champion on the track and in love.

never written for lewis before so hope this is nice anon. honestly not very proud of this one but like fuck it we ball <4

[emoisthenewemu]

Make The Neighbor's Know My Name - ERWIN SMITH x F! READER SMUT

MDNI 18+

What happens when your hot, (divorced) older neighbor just can't help himself?

wc: 5.5k (sorry!)

cw: SMUT, porn w plot, Modern!AU, age gap, mentions of shitty fathers, DADDY KINK (again, sorry i just know he has one), cursing, p in v, oral on both ends, squirting, general nastiness, breeding kink lol

a/n: wow had sm fun writing this. also this may be tmi scroll if u dont care but shoutout to the dude who made me s****t for the first time i was reminded ab you when writing this, hes a whole dad now lifes crazy

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Erwin Smith is an established man. He has a nice house and a good job-one where he got his hands dirty and worked his way up for years before becoming the boss. He works out on a weekly basis, eats (somewhat) healthy and can (again somewhat) cook. He is clean and well kept, educated and respected in his community. Kids love him, so do dogs and the elderly. With a politeness often associated with much different times and a beautiful, piercing set of blue eyes, he is damn dear perfect. On all accounts-a wonderful man.

So, it puzzles many that he lives in such a nice four bedroom all alone. It was not always like this; he used to be married. Had a sweet little housewife that got to stay home and do what she pleased. But it seems that freedom got to her head, overzealous with how much she could get away with-unfortunately it did not take many years of marriage to understand that it was never going to work. All it took was Erwin working a few months of overtime to push her into the arms of another man, one she claimed would give her more attention than he ever did. Perhaps he had neglected her a bit, let his job take over his life for a while. But it was all for her! So, they could have even more stability and possibly even become ready to start a family.

Nowadays he thanks God they never had a child together. And after the dull ache that was getting cheated on, the divorce, the court process that ensued afterward-the man was convinced that he was better off alone. He could accept that truth. There was no need to go chasing a feeling he had already experienced.

But that is not to say that he does not get any action. He is a man after all and they have needs, he surely does. He is no stranger to going out and chatting up nice women, taking them out on a few dates and making them feel special only to break it off when things get serious. It's a pattern at this point. His friends (employees) tell him he should drop the good guy act and just fuck shamelessly. Skip the formalities and go straight to the good part. Just be honest, it is arguably better than whatever the hell he is doing.

He considers it for about a week, even thinks about downloading an app so the opportunity is always there at his convenience. He knows he is a good-looking man who has much to offer, the matches will certainly come in.

That was until he becomes distracted by you. A cute little twenty something that moves directly across the street from him. He watched from both the windows of his home to the security camera which conveniently already faces your house. You had a few other younger girls helping you, two guys and neither seemed to be your boyfriend so that was a plus. And when he left to go get drinks, truck keys in hand-acting like he was not staring directly at you behind the shade of sunglasses you were bold enough to be the one to utter the first word.

It was after a few giggles of your girlfriends, who were also checking him out, but he was more focused on you. Hoping it would indeed be you that was moving in. "Hi neighbor!"

One of the girls slaps you lightly, mostly surprised you were actually bold enough to call out to the hot dilf across the street that's probably married. But he waves and says hello back before stepping into the large truck and driving off. They laugh as you stand there for a while, the wheels in your head turning.

You've always had a thing for older guys.

You soon come to learn he is not a dilf but the sentiment is there. It begs to argue the question, does a man really need to have a child to be a dilf? It may be in the title, but you see it more as a state of mind. And you also learn that he is divorced, he lives alone actually. Except for the golden retriever you often see accompanying him on runs.

You can thank the nosy old lady that lives next door for all of this top-secret information. It reminds you to accept her invites inside for tea often, you feel like you've met the whole neighborhood thanks to her gossip.

For the first month and a half your interactions with the man are mostly basic. Friendly 'hello's' and small little waves before the two of you leave for work in the mornings.

The first time you have an actual conversation is when you are bold enough to knock on his front door one Sunday morning. You know he is awake because he has already gone for his morning run. The sight of your new sexy neighbor all sweaty in his compression top and gym shorts has now become a part of your weekend routine. You wouldn't miss it for anything.

His hair is wet from the shower he just finished, still slightly dripping onto the thin material of his shirt. You swallow hard, trying to not get lost in the sea of muscle staring straight at you. You look up at him. He is more than twice your size.

You want to climb him like a tree.

"H-hi Mr. Smith so sorry to bother! I heard you own a construction company and well-I have this stupid door coming off the hinges! And I'd do it myself, but I suck at stuff like that! And I'd hate to hire someone to come all the way out here for something so small" You are visibly nervous, fidgeting and playing with your hands as you find it hard to maintain eye contact. He is just so fucking hot you cannot trust yourself to not gawk at the sight of him. "Of course, I'd pay you too!"

You are so cute and helpless. A fucking door hinge? Surely you have at least one friend who could help out with something like that. But as you soon come to learn, Erwin Smith will never say no to you. "Nonsense, no need to pay me. I'm always free to help a neighbor out. Let me go grab my tools"

So, he does and follows you across the street. He definitely does not check out your ass in those tiny little shorts that lift up a bit when you walk. In your defense-it's your day off, you deserve to be comfy!

Your house is exactly what he expected it to be, cute and tidy. It smells nice and everything is so girly. Pink and creme colored decorations scattered about, shiny hardwood floors that he can tell you recently cleaned. Perhaps it was in preparation of him coming over. Of course, the door just happens to be the closet door in your bedroom, with all of your cute little clothes as you sit on your cute little bed and watch.

Fuck, for some unknown reason the man finds it hard to focus. Even as you make small talk, his mind is elsewhere. Stuck on the sweet smell of you, the way you sit looking so pure and innocent-legs dangling over the edge of the bed as you watch him, head curiously cocked to the side.

He feels like a pervert for imagining what you must do in that bed. How beautiful you must look in the mornings when you wake up feeling lazy, stuck between the sheets. Do you cuddle up with the singular fluffy stuffed animal at night? Do you take it off the bed before you fuck someone, or does it stay up there? Even more, how many men have you fucked in that bed?

He forces himself to snap out of it, silently scolding himself for being so crass. This is not very neighborly of him. You would likely be disgusted by his vulgar thoughts. Or maybe you would like it, you don't do much to hide the way you stare at him. Even before this day, it was quite obvious that you had a little crush on him.

Yet as the older, more mature adult in the situation he tells himself that he must not entertain the idea. He is eighteen years older than you. Children have been born and graduated high school in that amount of time. It's downright wrong and these intrusive thoughts need to be put to an end.

It was easier said than done, especially when he catches a glimpse of your pink lacy panties thrown about the closet. He thinks about the underwear for the remainder of his day, if he were a less respectable man, he would have pocketed the pair and took the home. But he would never, he only imagines he did.

Two days later you show up to his doorstep, with a nice homemade lasagna and the sweetest smile on your face to thank him. It is you that he wishes to devour instead. He even invites you inside to talk for a bit but keeps things fairly short. He considers opening up a bottle of wine but talks himself out of it. Remember, he promised himself he would not entertain the idea of you. Although it may be too late because he fucks his fist to the thought of you every night for the remainder of the week.

And one early morning at work, before any of his men have been sent out on jobs a few of them congregate around his desk. Engaging in small talk as they usually do, telling stories of girlfriends, wives, how drunk they go the other night, cars-the usual guy stuff.

"Boss! How're the apps treating you?! You get any action?" Eren, one of his younger employees cannot help but ask seeing as he was the one to suggest in the first place.

"For real! You haven't said shit since we made you download it" Connie walks in, hardhat in hand as the other one holds the phone his crazy girlfriend is currently blowing up. He ignores the calls and shoves it into his back pocket. "Don't hold out on us man I tell you everything!"

"I'm aware" Erwin cocks a rather judgmental eyebrow-there are many stories which would have been better off unheard. Things he would much rather forget.

And then he thinks of you-the only woman which has plagued his thoughts for close to two months now. He sighs, contemplating if it worth bringing up. His heart drops as the realization dawns on him that you are practically the same age as the two young men before him-younger actually. "Shit" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "There is...a woman. Not from an app, my neighbor actually"

"Ohhh your neighbor! So, you get to hit and just walk right back home?" Connie laughs and the man cannot help but roll his eyes. These two are definitely the wrong people to be discussing this with.

"We haven't done anything; I just find her attractive is all. Probably not the smartest idea to fool around with someone I run in to almost every day anyways"

"Why not? Saves you money and gas" Eren argues. "She live alone too?"

Erwin sighs because he has neglected to mention the most important detail. "Yes, she lives alone, apparently she inherited the house from her aunt"

"All I hear is a lonely lady who needs some company" Connie shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. "What's stopping you?"

"She's quite young"

Eren and Connie could not be more excited that their usually reserved boss is opening up to them for once. After all of the talking they have done, it is his turn to ask for advice. "Erwin Smith you smooth motherfucker" The shorter man teases. "How young?"

"Last year of college young"

The men all but gasp, smiling excitedly as this is the juiciest piece of information they've heard in ages. They never would have expected it from a man who (with all respect) has a constant stick up his ass. "Younger than us?"

"......yes" He sighs ashamedly as the men whoop and holler. Rolling his eyes as they dap each other up as if they are the ones about to get laid.

"You better do it boss! Chicks these days are crazy. We can thank your generation for being such shitty fathers" He should expect such ignorant comments from someone like Jaeger, a guy who has been stringing his girl best friend along since childhood.

"Forget I even said anything" Smith stands up, grabbing a clipboard and few other necessities for the job site he will soon be off to. But he should know the two young men would persist.

"I say do it boss!" Eren encourages, pumping a fist into the air. "Do it! Do it!"

"Do it! Do it!" Connie joins in on the chanting, they follow the man out his office-ignoring the stares of their fellow colleagues. That is until their boss scolds them to get the hell to work. So, they do, retreating back to their trucks as Erwin stands in place in thought for a while.

They have given him much to think about.

He ponders the conversation for days afterwards. Every time he looks at you, when you have those short little conversations that keep his day going. Perhaps it would not be so bad, he hopes you aren't looking for anything serious. Or maybe he does, his mind remains undecided. It would not be so bad having a pretty young thing like you on his arm. But he is getting ahead of himself.

He talks to you more, striking up longer conversations whenever he gets the chance. You are very polite; he finds it sweet the way you cross your ankles and tuck your hands behind yourself whenever the two of you speak-almost as if you were nervous. For some reason, it makes him want you even more.

After weeks of much of the same behavior he decides he has had enough. It's not so bad, it's not like he knew you before you were an adult or anything. You are a grown woman who pays bills and provides for herself-you have your own house for Christ's sake! He needs to stop babying you, looking at you as if you are just some lost little girl. You have needs of your own. Needs he is more than certain he can meet. So, he invites you inside for drinks one Friday evening, you do not think about it for even a second before agreeing.

Sending a text to your girls about how you are finally going to fuck the hot man from across street, you shut off your phone. You want absolutely zero distractions during your visit, a plan of your own is in the works.

You drink his fancy wine and watch a movie on the couch, carefully maintaining a bit of distance between the two of you. You almost forgot how nervous he makes you, perhaps the liquid courage is what you need to get your act right.

"Come closer" He pats the spot beside him, and you hesitantly follow his orders, setting down the wine glass and closing the gap between the two of you. Your thighs are touching, hands awkwardly stuck on either side of you, the pace of your heartbeat quickens when the man slides an arm down and around your waist. "What's the matter? Am I making you uncomfortable?" He has to make sure before things go any further. Your stiff body language is telling him that perhaps he should slow down.

"Oh no! Never!" You shake your head, trying to ease into his touch. But you are still afraid to touch him yourself. "It's just......you're a bit intimidating"

He exhales a puff of air through his nose, clearly amused by your words. Brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, he speaks again. "Oh darling, I don't mean to be. What can I do to make you feel better?"

His deep voice sends shivers down your spine, it sends shivers somewhere else too. "I-I don't know" You laugh. "You're just so big and..... established. Have no idea what you're doing sitting here with a girl like me"

"Oh, don't say that" He turns his body a bit to face you better, arm still stuck in its place around you. He places the other hand on your knee, you remain painfully aware of its place. "I'm the one who should be questioning how I got such a pretty little thing sitting on my couch" You giggle, it makes him twitch in his pants. "I'm the lucky one here"

His hand slides up to your thigh, massaging the fat in a way that makes you burn with desire. A heat builds deep within you. "T-touch me please"

Oh, your sugary voice is driving him crazy; he had no idea he would be this into something like this, someone like you. He pulls you into his lap, hands dragging up and down either side of your body as he takes all of you in. He lets out a long sigh, hips shifting beneath you as his cock begins to harden at the feeling of your burning skin. He hooks his thumb beneath your shirt, looking up at you. "May I?"

You nod almost frantically before he pulls the fabric over your head. Facing a baby pink, lacy bralette-he is unable to stop the groan from leaving his lips. He kisses the uncaged skin beneath your breaths, inadvertently taking a deep breath in to get more of your syrupy scent. "You wear this for me?" He questions.

You nod shyly, trying to hide your face but he pulls it closer to look at him. A hand guides you to fill in the space between your faces, foreheads pressing together but he does not kiss you. Not yet anyways, he wants to tease you a bit first. "Use your words"

"Y-yes I wore it for you daddy" It was a shot in the dark, most men his age are into shit like that.

He groans again. Fuck. Eren was right, thanks to all the shitty fathers out there, yours included.

You laugh, finally gaining that bit of confidence you need to keep the teasing going. "Wanna see what else I put on for you?"

"Show me darling" His eyes follow your hand which goes down to unbutton your shorts, unzipping them a bit before hooking your thumb to pull them forward-giving him perfect sight of the cute little bow which sits atop your panties. The same pair he spotted in your closet all those months ago. If he wasn't hard before then he definitely was now, nearly bursting at the seams of his pants. And he chuckles, twitching in anticipation as your body rocks with his. "You planned this, didn't you? Dirty girl"

"Mhm" You laugh, hand running down his chest, you let your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt a bit. You are desperate to feel even more of him. "Did I do a good job?"

"So good princess" He confirms, kissing your chest again. "Let's go upstairs"

You agree, making sure to grab your shirt that you clutch to your chest, painfully aware of the fact you are the only one without a shirt on. But your worries are soon dissolved because Erwin sheds his own shirt the second the two of you reach his room, you sit on his large bed, taking him in all his glory. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of nothing but muscle and evidence of years of hard work, the dirty blonde happy trail you wish to see the end of.

He walks up to you, standing at the edge of the bed and you look up to him. You are eye level with the tent of his pants. He brings a hand to gently caress your face, words are not necessary to know what he wants. You're so sweet and obedient that you go to fumble with the zipper of his pants almost immediately. And when he springs out you have to stop your eyes from widening at the sheer size of him. You almost feel afraid again but you don't want him to know that-you seem naive enough already. You'd like to surprise him a bit.

You kiss the girthy tip as if it were his lips, sticking out your tongue to flick over the slit. You press an exaggerated closed mouth kiss to the tip before taking more of him in your mouth. He groans, throwing back his head as you make your way down inch-by-inch. When you reach the base you swallow, throat tightening around him as he looks down to watch you-mouth agape.

Your wide eyes look up at him gleefully, if you could smile you would. The wait for him was sooo worth it-you think as he looks down at you in what seems to be pure amazement. Brows scrunching as he groans as you choke on his length. A mess of saliva and tears as you bob your head up and down, you can feel when his tip makes it past a certain place in your throat, growing conscious of how deep he is reaching.

It hurts but you can't find it in yourself to stop, he looks so good. An absolute mess as his manly groans make you want to play with your pussy. But instead, you take it a step further, you need this man to remember you, to crave you for years afterwards just in case this never happens again. Although you hope it does. You wrap both arms around his thighs, bringing him deeper as he begins to fuck your mouth.

Erwin, who has stayed relatively quiet since then becomes a mess. "Ohh fuck-fuck! So good, gonna fuck this tight little throat.... good girl, good girl"

You moan at his nasty words, sounds of gagging and wet slaps play like a symphony. Until he pulls back once he realizes he was about to blow a massive load down your throat. No, he wants to save it.

He pulls out, strings of spit dripping from his cock as you gasp for air, wiping away the tears from your eyes and mess of liquid around your mouth. "Mmm" You moan. "Was it good daddy?"

"So good darling" He rubs his thumb over your now swollen lips. "You're doing such a good job for me"

He leans down to kiss you, finally. Fervently grabbing at your hair and hips as he makes his way onto the bed. You scoot back, lips never leaving his as he goes to pull off your shorts. Tongues pressing together in-sync, he stops for a moment to suck on yours-eliciting a small whimper from you. Your nails trace up and down his arms, lost in the feeling of his lips. You could stay this way for hours.

But he obviously would like to keep things going, pulling down your shorts all the way before going down to kiss you through the thin fabric. He makes out with your pussy through the lace, stopping to suckle and blow tiny bubbles on your throbbing clit.

"Fuck!" You squeal, bucking your hips into his face as he continues the teasing. His tongue going up and down, creating an even larger wet spot that takes up most of the area. "Pleeease daddy"

"No, you can wait" He scolds, going to kiss your thighs softly. "Be patient. I'd like to take my time with you, get you ready for my cock"

"Mhm" You nod yet your hips buckle up again. "S-sorry"

"It's okay princess" He coos, finally pulling your panties down completely. When he licks a stripe up your pussy you all but scream.

"Mmm yesss!"

He kisses your clit, sucking it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. Your hips try to fuck his face, he lets it happen, diving deeper and deeper into your pussy. He sticks his tongue out and shakes his head side to side, moaning at the way you cry out-so receptive to his touch.

He moves down to fuck you with his tongue, you bump your clit against his nose, mouth open and eyes rolled to the back of your head in a pure state of bliss. You tug at his hair roughly, using it to guide you against him, so desperate for more. Your mind clouds with pleasure, mouth forming into an 'o' shape as your hips begin to stutter, breath catching in your throat. And when he pulls back to spit! on your pussy, not once or twice, but three times you think you have died and gone to heaven.  With the addition of his fingers, and focusing the attention back to your clit, it is not long after that your release washes over you.

You exclaim out loud as your back arches off the bed, softly buckling down onto his tongue as he laps up all of your essence.

The both of you are panting as he comes back up to meet your lips. Tongue assaulting yours as you taste nothing but yourself on his tongue. That's the way it should be-you think. His painfully hard length presses into your stomach, you look down to see how deep it might go inside of you, but you look back up again when you start to feel scared of the stretch. You trust him, that is all that matters.

And before he can even ask if you want him to put a condom on or not, you grab his cock, sliding it down your folds and circling it around your clit. "Want you inside now daddy"

And who is he to ever say no to you? Seconds later he is pressing himself inside of you, thankful that he prepared you for it beforehand because it doesn't take very long for him to bottom out. "Ohh shit" He groans, pulling all the way out them slamming back in. "Fuck...you're so tight"

Your walls squeeze around him even more at his words, arms settling around his broad shoulders as you fight the urge to let your hips run away. He notices the way you pull back; he won't allow it. Bringing your bodies flush against one another, he rests his forehead on your shoulder, strong arms pulling you down onto him. You cry at the pressure, the way he is stabbing at you from inside, so deep you feel it might go out into your tummy. You squeal again, legs crossing over his back. "Erwin! Mmm, no no no, it hurts"

A stray tear falls from your eye, yet your hips begin to seek out his as you grow more accustomed to the stretch. "F-fuck" Your stomach begins to flutter.

"Oh shh shhh darling it's okay" He sounds so gentle, the complete opposite of the mean snap of his hips. "You want me to stop?" Another powerful thrust makes you let out a noise closer to a scream.

"No daddy please don't stop" You begin to claw at his back as he sets himself a pace, loud sounds of clapping begin to fill the room.

Your pussy is choking him, so slippery and needy. It sucks him in with each thrust, a 'slush' noise every time he pulls himself out. "So wet" The man gasps at the sight of all your juices splattered about. He needs to see more.

Pushing your knees into your chest and angling his hips a bit higher, he begins to drill into you at an unrelenting pace. A mix of saccharine moans fill the room, the sound of his headboard slamming against the wall. "Oh, oh oh! Erwin! Mmmm!" You sound so perfect, the sound of you moaning his name alone is enough to make him want to cum.

"Feels sooo good" Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he plows into you in a way that feels mechanical. In a way you have never felt before. He is so experienced, he knows all the right buttons to push, places to touch you and kiss. You are so mind numbingly stuck in a state of bliss that you almost feel lost. Like you could never crave another man after sleeping with him.

"Guys your age ever treat you like this?" He questions, now forcing your legs together with one arm and picking your hips up off the bed. Continuing his assault on your sweet little pussy that has made him go fucking stupid. He usually maintains a sense of composure when sleeping with new women, he knows what he enjoys may not be everyone's cup of tea but you, well you are the most perfect little slut he has ever met. "They fuck you this good?"

"No Erwin!" You cry out, gripping the sheets as he continues slamming into you. "You're the best! Fuck, Erwin! It's tooo much, feels weird"

Your hips twitch, he knows very well what this means. Oh, he needs it, he needs you to squirt all over him or else he will not be satisfied. "Erwin! Erwin!"

"Yeah, keep talking princess, make all the neighbors know my name, huh?" He goes down to toy with your clit, your hips attempt to squirm away. But the arm wrapped around your thighs ensure you stay in place. He pinches your clit, tip pushing against your g spot in a way that makes it hard to speak.

"Nonono, think I'm gonna pee" You shake your head frantically, trying to grab his arms and free yourself of his grip. But he will not allow it.

"Just let go" He orders, hair now sticking to his head as he shakes it back and forth. "Squirt all over daddy princess, I'll clean it up"

You finally reach your breaking point, breath so caught in your throat that your moan is almost silent, too high pitched to even be registered. Your hips and thighs are shaking, stomach quivering and you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he does not relent with his thrusts-close to a release of his own. When you squirt all over him, he whines stuck on the juices gushing out of you. His eyes squeeze shut as the image replays over and over again in his head, finally dropping your body back down to the mattress as he is almost where he needs to be. "Such a messy pussy" He moans into your skin, your body lays limp as you try to do something as simple as breathe.

It is hard when he snatches every little gasp out of you. But you can feel him twitching inside you, thrusts grow sloppy as you grab at his hair, your sensitive pussy being pushed to her brink. "Please please cum inside daddy. Fuckkk I need it! Wanna keep it inside all night and remember how good you made me feel"

Your dirty words are enough to push him over the edge, spilling into you and splaying your womb with his seed. Fuck, his dick belongs inside of you. So does his cum, he wants to do this every day when he comes home from work. In the mornings before he even gets out of bed. At night when before he goes to sleep. He wants you stuffed with him at all times. His cum spills out of you as he finally pulls out, dripping down your thighs.

He looks up at you with a mischievous look on his eyes. It feels unnatural to see such a composed man come undone, the way he eats you up with his eyes.

And you are staring at him like he is the most handsome man on the planet, well he kind of is. To you at least. You chuckle, you're in danger, never has a man made you feel this good before. He made you squirt the first time sleeping with you. Fuck, you're dickmatized.

"We should have done this a long time ago" He collapses into your chest, kissing whatever skin is available softy. He will clean you up in a bit, for now he needs to rest.

"Yes, we should have" You play with his hair before kissing the top of his head, making yourself quite comfortable in his sheets. You could get used to this.

And used to it, you become. Erwin is now a daily part of your routine, the same as sleeping and eating. Getting creampied by Erwin Smith was now the highlight of most of your days but it was not all purely physical. He took you out a few times, you even met a few of his coworkers one night over drinks. You spend the night at each other's houses and begin to go on morning runs together.

You suppose you should not be surprised when you end up pregnant several months later. Knocked up by your sexy older neighbor that you now consider to be your boyfriend. He even suggests the two of you get married, but you agree to wait for the baby to come along to see if that changes anything in your relationship.

Now, because of you, he will live up to his true potential as a dilf.

[gilbirda]

How to Write Women, a quick guide by me

Hello! I was recently inspired to write a series of educational posts so I thought maybe it would be useful for someone.

I want to preface this that there is no criticism intended. I understand that female characters in general have been neglected in media, and I don't blame fandom for not understanding how to write a woman if there hasn't been a good reference in their lives.

My objective is that you, the reader, finish this post with a basic structure and few questions to ask yourself when writing a female character; and with the terms and curiosity to research more if you'd like to expand.

I'm no professional writer, but I've been writing for more than 20 years at this point, and I specialize in writing female protagonists and writing organic romantic storylines.

Here we go.

I want to write a woman, where do I start?

Writing women, at the end of the day, is no different than writing a man. Really, that's the trick.

Disappointed I'm not giving some kind of hot takes about this?

Good.

Because it should be that simple, but to get to that point we should unravel some baseline thought process that can and will get in the way even if you try to write a good female character.

A few questions to ask yourself are:

Why am I writing this character?

Does she have agency in her own story?

Does she have her own goals and aspirations?

Let's break them down:

Why am I writing this character?

What do I like about her? Is she annoying? Is she a hero? A villain? An antagonist? What thing do I like about her canon characteristics (for fanfic writers)? What would I change?

As mentioned at the beginning, female characters usually are not very well written. They are usually fridged or used only as a reminder that MC (usually a man) has emotions and vulnerabilities.

Take a moment to think about it. Think about the feelings her character gives you, and what are the things you do know about her. Think about wasted potential, or unanswered questions about her actions and plot lines that left you wanting more.

If you find her annoying, wonder why — usually, a female character being "annoying" or "not interesting" is tied to her not being developed enough, and pushed into a one-dimensional role. Pay attention at how many speaking lines she has, that usually gives you a clue of how much her character is developed.

Once you have decided who you want to write, this is where it gets interesting.

What kind of story do you want to tell? What role does she play in it?

When making the structure of the story and developing the plot, wonder about how exactly the female character(s) add to the table. Again, female characters can fulfill any role in a story, but watch out!

Bitchy mean girl lesbian

Motherly mommy mom/sister/friend that takes care of everyone

The "healer" of the team

These 3 roles have been used as boxes to fit female characters for ages. Be careful if you think you are pushing her into one of these.

But how can you avoid the tropes?

Does she have agency in her own story?

Or: if you remove her from the story, nothing changes?

Go into your mind palace, and remove the interactions and scenes the female character is in. Does the story still work? Could her lines be easily delivered by someone else?

If the answer is yes, then she doesn't have any agency.

It doesn't matter if she is a main character or a supporting character — she should have a say on the events or some kind of influence in the development of the plot.

Maybe she has a skill that is needed multiple times during the story, or maybe she has past experiences that are a mystery and unraveling her secrets reveals a plot twist, or maybe turns out she was the traitor all along. Make her MATTER.

Does she have her own goals and aspirations?

Or: Is she existing for someone else's sake?

This one is useful for the "mommy" character or the "healer" character.

Go into your mind palace again and think if you remove the female character's loved ones from the equation, does she have something to do?

If the answer is no, then she doesn't exist for herself.

She could still love and take care of others, but she has to exist for something else than that. Make her dream and yearn, and make mistakes, and sacrifice thing for selfish reasons.

Romance is usually a goal given for female characters (and that's a whole other topic I hope to write another post about), and it's a good one! Just be careful with falling for the trap of swapping the people (usually men) she exists for.

Give her hidden agendas, convoluted selfish secret reasons, make her want to destroy the world! Make her want to pursue the truth, chase someone for revenge, be a thrill seeker. Make her HUMAN.

In Conclusion

A quick trick I use when I write female characters is: If I swap her gender, nothing changes?

Of course there's nuance, but that keeps me grounded when even the questions I went over in this post are not enough for me.

Again, writing female characters should not be that different from writing men. If it feels different, ask yourself why and try to understand where the thought comes from.

NOTE: If the point of the story is to discuss the problem of codependency, or portray a toxic relationship, by all means skip checking about agency or her having goals. Rules are there to break them, but first you have to understand them.

I hope this helps someone and I will add and edit this post as needed, maybe to add useful links.

Happy writing!

[nnightskiess]

the dance of death, part five

₊° - 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦...

the dance of death, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸

Now, more than ever, every fibre in Wednesday's being called for her to figure out what Nevermore was hiding. She knew her gut feeling had been right from the first night. It hadn't been just a violin player. It hadn't been just a girl. And it definitely hadn't been just a made up story to scare the students. Y/N had been real. She'd existed, or else Wednesday would have never been able to grasp visions and moments of her life by touching her portrait. Though, her dips into visions had never left her so physically exhausted before, nor had she felt like an intruder the second she'd jumped in. Even now, she could feel the prickling humming of the vision's phantom feeling plaguing her. She liked it, though. It kept her focused on the task.

She'd noticed the Nightshades following her wherever she went. They weren't trying to be subtle about it either, that much was clear. She could feel their eyes on her at all times. They'd even started to rotate shifts on who would guard the library entrance for days now, which had irked her immensely at first. There was more information to be found down there, Wednesday knew it, and she knew they knew. What she also knew, was that they couldn't change the password to the entrance. With two simple snaps of a finger, the statue of Edgar Allen Poe would open. So it was only a matter of time until she would be able to slip by them without anyone noticing. But, there was another obstacle— Weems had been on her case as well, and Wednesday wondered if Bianca or any of the others had whispered something in her ear, or if the woman had been looking at her more closely than she'd initially assumed. But Principal Weems couldn't know the truth, obviously, for Wednesday was sure she would have been kicked from school in that case already.

Wednesday walked through the quad, head held high but eyes glued to her peripheral as she glanced at the lurking nook to her right. She'd noticed the pattern— Ajax took the mornings, always having been an early riser; Xavier took the free periods, happy to sketch away on his own; Kent and Divina the breaks, keeping each other company; Bianca would usually take the hours right after dinner, her need to not miss her clubs, classes or social hour during break too high, and Yoko stayed during the night, her lack of need for sleep making it an easy decision. Wednesday had felt their eyes on them each time she left their sight, only for one of them to shadow her wherever she went. But they were forgetting one thing. While they were so heroically guiding the Nightshades library, Wednesday had all the freedom in the world to go where they weren't— their dorms.

Wednesday accepted the paperclip Thing handed her, immediately going to work to unlock the door she sat crouched in front of. The dorm room hallways were quiet right now, all the students either in the classrooms or at the quad... just like Xavier, the unlucky victim of her current mission. She'd half hoped Enid would be useful to her, maybe distract Xavier or get them off her track, but with the girl's track record of blurting things out and her inability to lie, Wednesday rather took her chances to do this alone.

"Remember, it is a black leather bonded map we're looking for," She reminded Thing as soon as the door clicked open.

She spent five alienated seconds taking in the typical teenage boy room of Xavier with a slight scowl of disgust on her face— heaps of clothes, kicked-off trainers, a messy desk and walls filled with posters and drawings. She scrunched up her nose, the teenage boy's pheromones of sweat mixed with cheap aftershave giving her nausea.

"I want to know what else he drew in there, as he's clearly hiding something from me. They all are." Wednesday flitted through the papers on his desk. She bent down to watch all that had fallen out of his backpack, which he'd clearly thrown against the foot of his bed in a rush.

"Eureka." Her eyes lit up ever so slightly, her hands quickly brushing through the pages and skipping through drawings of animals and plants. The patter of Thing's fingers approached. He jumped out from one of the shelves and climbed onto Wednesday's shoulder, just as eager to see if breaking into Xavier's room had paid out.

Xavier had drawn Nevermore's water fountain from the gallery above the quad at night during a full moon.

Another drawing depicted Eugene's beehive. Another one Jericho's town square.

There was nothing interesting about any of them. She flipped the page. Another spider. Then a squirrel on a branch. Then another shadowy blob with eyes. The next one was a mansion in the woods, shadowed by the treetops of the forest it was in.

"It's the mansion from my vision," She muttered quietly, fingers touching the page in the hope of another vision. Nothing happened. She took the drawing in. Xavier had scribbled a family of three on the porch in charcoal, the outline of their garments making it clear that it wasn't a family from this time.

"The vision from the portrait." Wednesday glanced at Thing from over her shoulder when realisation dawned on her. She turned back to look at the sketch and could almost hear the calming rustle of the wind through the leaves, the creaking of the swaying rocking chair in the corner of the porch, the barking of a faraway dog, the crackling of a fire and the tuning of an instrument. She felt the unease, the fear of being kept between four walls, of oppressing, of concealing. But Xavier hadn't drawn any of that.

"I'm telling you, we just need to let her in on what we know."

Wednesday's body froze as she heard the muffled voice on the other side of the door approach. It was Xavier, and he wasn't alone.

"And let her set off another chain of murders? No, thanks." Bianca added.

Quickly she shoved his bundle of drawings back where they'd been and slipped underneath the bed, Thing following her example.

"Wednesday won't do that."

"Are you sure? Because her entire existence seems to be fuelled by getting off on death and horror."

The door clicked open and Wednesday watched from underneath the bed as Bianca and Xavier walked in. The boy walked to his closet, rummaging through the mess.

"We don't even know how it happened that first time. We weren't even around for that. Not even born. Hell, no one here was."

"Yoko was."

"Barely."

"Long enough to know that that girl's not to be messed with! She needs to be left alone! You know the rumours of what happened in the 40s, too. And then in the 80s as well, in case you forgot." Bianca huffed.

"Exactly. Rumours. Stories born from fear and meshed together by whispers." Xavier started cramming stuff in a bag.

"Rumours are always based on some form of truth."

"Then I guess they deserve the benefit of the doubt. Both of them."

"Are you really asking me to give Wednesday the benefit of the doubt when I saw with my own eyes how that portrait was upside down? You mean to tell me it did that out of itself after years of hanging straight, right up until crazy braids appeared on our doorstep?"

Xavier threw his closet door shut and walked into the bathroom, throwing more stuff into his bag.

"Hello?!" Bianca followed him, still frustrated. "There's a reason previous principals took all those measures. Lord knows why Weems is so negligent about them, but we shouldn't be! You know what's written down about her. Don't you believe all those books?!"

Xavier reappeared from the bathroom, "I-I don't know. Maybe I don't."

It was quiet for a beat.

"You know what you draw isn't always true, right?"

"Exactly."

Bianca, exasperated, threw her hands in the air. She walked off but hovered in the doorway,, "Students died, Xavier. Whether she killed them or not, they died." She puffed a breath out of her nose, "Our responsibility as Nightshades is to keep that from happening again, to keep that story buried, to keep her buried. We promised that, and generations before us did. And unless you keep to that promise, we can't trust you anymore."

"Bianca-" Xavier sighed and threw a pile of papers on the ground before running after her, not without ramming the door close.

Wednesday glanced at Thing from under the bed, determination set in her eyes. She was now, all the more, keen on figuring out all she could find out about this girl, this violin player, who had intrigued her since the day she'd stepped foot on Nevermore grounds. Something had happened here, something sinister, and she never liked being kept in the dark when it came to the macabre.

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

A mere half hour later, Wednesday sat in class, thinking about what she'd secretly discovered.

So, there had been deaths. Of students, no less. And, multiple, apparently.

And other principals had been aware of... what, exactly? Well, aware of it enough to take measures to... save the school or to play dumb and pretend nothing had happened? Because, so far, it seemed only the Nightshades knew of this piece of Nevermore history. And why did they? Had they accidentally found something out? And if it was so deeply buried, where had they found out? And how had anyone been able to keep the truth from coming out? Why did silly teenagers who were part of a silly club with an even sillier kidnapping rite of passage know about this? Wednesday had done her research beforehand, and not even one article had come up when she'd searched Nevermore online. The lack of articles, when she'd put murder, death and accident after Nevermore in the search engine, had quelled her excitement to enrol even further.

And... what had that been about the 40s and the 80s? Had something happened then, too? And why had Weems let her play the cello, encouraged her to, even, if other principals had apparently shuddered at the thought?

Stricken with all these thoughts swirling in her mind, she was thankful that through it all, she had found her next person of interest—Yoko. Apparently, the vampire had already been inhabiting this sad excuse of a planet around that time. So, for now, that made Yoko complicit in her next steps of action.

"Wednesday."

Her train of thought popped in a split second. Irritated, she looked to her right, where the voice had come from, but no one was standing there. She was sitting alone at her desk, no classmate seemingly eager to keep her company, especially not after her glare had warded them off.

She locked her jaw and pursed her lips, hoping whoever had stopped her train of thought wouldn't do it again, when she noticed a small piece of parchment on her desk.

It was written in an esteemed calligraphed handwriting that the average teenager with their modern scribbles or block lettered fonts could learn something from.

Memento Mori, it read.

Memento mori... the inevitability of death. She knew all about the Latin phrase. Of how it symbolised the end of life, of how it was portrayed in paintings like hourglasses or clocks, of how it could be seen as a reason to live each day to the fullest or a morbid reminder that you must die.

Her eyes flashed from left to right again, but no one was looking at her strangely or anticipating a reaction from her. And so, she wouldn't give it to them. She'd just crumple the paper and-

The second her fingers touched the parchment, she felt the air get sucked out of her, constricting her throat as if hands squeezed it shut. It burned. It ached.

Her head fell back and after the welcome feeling of a nagging migraine coming up, she opened her eyes to see she was somewhere else.

The sky was gloomy, even for what seemed to be the middle of the day. The structure of the buildings around her made it clear she'd gone back in time, and quite some years, too. A wooden notice board stood to her right with advertisements— a clipped drawing of a horse on sale, a five hundred dollar reward for the arrest of a train robbery, a request for a housemaid, a newspaper clipping of the public trial and confessions of some Grace Marks and James McDermott.

Wednesday turned around as a flock of people rushed past her, all dressed in the appropriate attire of the mid-1800s. A horse and cart wheeled by, sending dust clouds across the square. People started mumbling amongst one another, retreating from shops and houses or opening wooden shutters from above to watch.

The cart stopped on the other side of the town square and two large men jumped out before a third person appeared. The crowd now went haywire.

Unsure but intrigued, Wednesday walked up to the town square of screaming and chanting people. She cursed at her height, for what was happening on the wooden staging was hard to see.

"Kill her!"

"She's a witch, fire is the only way!"

"Witches don't exist, you medieval vazy!"

"She is one! I've seen it with my own eyes!"

"Only true evil can do such a thing, kill her!"

"She's but a child!"

"I saw her talk with the dead!"

"Hang her! Jericho doesn't need murderers!"

"Save our children from this evil, save Jericho!"

Wednesday walked further, finding a draw-well. She hauled herself atop the edge, holding onto the pole to keep her balance. She could finally see what all the fuzz was about. All the way to the other side of the muddy and filthy town square, a girl stood trembling on the staging, hands tied behind her back, burlap bag atop her head with two men on either side of her, cutting off the blood flow in her arms by how hard they were squeezing. It had to be her, the girl from the portrait. Why else would the vision have taken Wednesday here? But what was she supposed to see? To learn from this?

Another man walked onto the staging, opening one of the nooses enough for the girl's head to fit in. Sobs racked her body, making her shake with the fright in her bones. Things were being announced, but the crowd was too overbearing to make out his words.

Before Wednesday could witness her first public execution, the world turned on an axis. Horizontal became vertical, up became down. Her eyes felt like they zigzagged in their sockets. Suddenly, she fell onto the damp ground. A groan left her as she felt something hard poke into her abdomen.

She was in the middle of a forest.

The entire forest floor was covered in vegetation. She had to be careful not to put her hand in the nettles around her. Though she liked their pain, she'd never been that fond of the itch. The ivy around her feet seemed to have crisscrossed against the earth, but as she moved her feet, it came undone. A small stone plaque, no bigger than her hand, appeared. Anyone would've tripped over it, had it not been covered by layers of greenery. Two words were engraved into it.

Memento Mori.

The same words. On what had to be an unmarked grave. It was clear that whoever had been behind the grave had not felt any importance to respectfully lay this person to rest. The grave came with no name, no date or anything else except for those two Latin words. Wednesday felt for whoever was buried here. Back at the Addams Mansion, their entire backyard was a graveyard. Each Addams that had come before her had a giant, imposing grave to declare their final resting place, to celebrate their death and their journey behind the thin veil of life. It was as if whoever had buried this person here hadn't felt they were deserving enough of a respectful resting place. That or... the lack of information on the grave hadn't been entirely accidental... but rather done with purpose. Keep her buried... Bianca had said. Could this be...?

Wednesday looked around to properly take in her surroundings. She recognised these woods. The eerie but comforting feeling that she was being watched by the trees around her, that the wind would travel further and alert whoever of her presence. She'd been here before, in her first vision, albeit as she'd watched from a distance. Was she still in the 1800s? Or was this place overgrown or built on back in her time?

"Is this where you're buried?" She breathed out, wondering to herself. Before she could investigate further, a force pushed her out again, back into her conscious body, back to the classroom, where her classmates now looked at her with critique, fear, bewilderment and raised eyebrows.

"Everything all right, Miss Addams?"

She gave a curt nod to her teacher and straightened her back. When the class stopped dwelling on her... moment, she fixed her bangs and looked out the window to the treetops of the forest in the distance.

Nevermore was a place for outsiders or gifted kids, depending on who you asked, but there was no denying that there was a common denominator.

Why this town in Vermont to start the school, of all places? Something strange was definitely afoot in Jericho, probably always had been, and Wednesday was going to find out how it all tied to Y/N.

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Wednesday tossed and turned in her bed, tiny beads of sweat coated her hairline for the first time in her life. Wednesday didn't sweat, on no occasion, ever, but the locks of her bangs clung to her forehead. It disgusted her and made her feel revolted at the lack of control over her body and senses. She hated the warmth that flooded her entire body, the unknown temperature filling her with more loathing. Even if she could feel it, she couldn't do anything about it. Because Wednesday was asleep, and she was awfully aware of that.

Most days, she either vividly dreamed of the most beautifully horrific things, or her mind would be empty entirely during her sleep. What she was feeling right now... it was new. She had no control, and it bothered her.

Her eyes squeezed shut and her brows furrowed even deeper as she let herself get pulled and pushed and plucked at. She only saw darkness... and she felt it too. It wasn't the kind of darkness she was used to. There was something incredibly evil and torturing latching onto her, and if she wasn't so focused on regaining control, she would've revelled at the feeling of being in its dark presence.

"It's all lies. You see what they see."

Rang through her head in a female sing-songy voice, feigning sorrow, hiding a smirk. Wednesday wanted to talk, she wanted answers, but it was as if her mouth had been sown shut with needle and thread.

"Will you be my friend?"

A small child's voice mixed with a deep and dark voice, something inhuman, yelled into her right ear before a string of apologies was heard in her left one.

"Leave. Her."

Wednesday heard the female voice beg before she felt her hair being pulled, as if the only goal behind it was to pluck her bald. It hurt and made her eyes water, even in her dreamlike state. It burned as if she'd ducked her head in boiling water or as if an entire beehive had stung each part of her head. She could feel it all. This was the torture she'd usually love to dream about. Not tonight.

"Hey-" Echoed and echoed through her mind, the same female voice sounding like a choir with its reverb, "Fight it."

"Alone. Cold. Water. Wolf. Hair. Hair. Pretty. Book. Portrait. Book. Alone. Hand. Play. Hand. Hand. Fire. Betrayal. Hurt. Kill. Kill. Nevermore. Let her go. Kill. Kill. End it. Here. Wolf. Girl. End it. Up. Up. Wake. Help."

A string of words followed in a way that made no sense to Wednesday and sounded a lot like the monotone voices from the Ghost Boxes she'd seen some idiots use in one of the paranormal courses she'd taken once in hopes of experiencing an exorcism.

"Wednesday!"

The constant buzzing of messy words and white noise was interrupted by the soft, gentle voice of a young woman speaking her name. Then she saw her— a young woman clad in dated attire and a hairdo to match. It was her. The girl from the portrait. Only, the evil eyes were gone and a panic struck her face instead.

She came to life in Wednesday's mind, now no longer an idle drawing in a frame but a person. A person whose touch she could feel, whose pain and fear she could sense.

"Go now!"

The woman's hands pulled at her arms, then pushed her away, out of the dark, into another abyss as Wednesday could feel herself falling and falling until she opened her eyes.

Wednesday bolted up from her sleep, chest heaving, hair dishevelled as if it had really been pulled and played with. She shot backwards against her headboard as soon as she saw Enid's face hovering just above her own, the girl's hands still on her to shake her awake.

"Wednesday!" Enid's concerned voice rang out, "Are you okay?!"

It was then that she realised the state she was in, with her covers half draped on the ground, her clothes sticking to her skin, her hair mussed and that same awful chilly but warm wetness covering her face, neck and back. She could feel the forming of a plethora of bruises all over her body, and she doubted that Enid was to blame for some of them with her still tight grip on her forearms. Wednesday reared back in shock and disgust at the physical contact, too panicked to notice the flash of hurt across Enid's face.

"I'm going to get Ms. Thornhill."

"Don't." Wednesday immediately muttered, regaining her breath, her chin held up again to not give in to the slip of her facade and the moment of weakness Enid had caught her in.

"You're clearly not okay! You were saying all kinds of weird things in your sleep, and you look... even paler than usual."

"I'm fine. Where's Thing?" Wednesday glanced across their dorm room, the lights Enid had turned on doing nothing to help her find him quicker.

"Oh, I... I don't know... but are you sure?" Enid tried to approach again, but one look from the raven-haired girl, and she stopped herself. "Wednesday, you don't look fine. And you talked in your sleep, you've never done that before."

"You talk in your sleep every night, but I don't go to get someone after all the troubling things I hear you mutter, do I?"

Enid visibly blushed in embarrassment, hands bundled against her chest, wondering if she really did talk in her sleep, and what she'd said exactly. Then, as if a light had been switched on, Enid reared back even further, panic lacing her features and her voice.

"Oh god! It's happening!"

Wednesday looked at her in confusion, the fact Enid was wearing her bunny slippers, pink pajamas and rainbow sleeping mask making the thing entirely more ridiculous.

"The slow descent into your insanity? I can see that." Wednesday muttered, hauling her duvets back onto her bed, eyes still flashing across the room in case Thing showed up. Why wasn't he perched atop her bed already?

"The start of yours, more like!" Enid started freaking out, her breath coming in heaps as she paced by the end of Wednesday's bed, "She'll drive you mad, visit you in your dreams and then come for you. It's exactly like Xavier said! And now she'll come for me too simply by association, oh god, oh god-" She rushed out.

Wednesday was about to shut her up, but a loud thunk sounded not even a second later, making both their heads rear to the large glass-stained window in their room.

"Oh god, there she is, there she is." Enid hurried back to her corner of the room, her colourful side of fairy lights and plushies giving off a warmer and safer ambience than Wednesday's dark nook of death and destruction.

Intrigued, Wednesday got up, walked up to the window and tried to peer through it. But the dead of night was a black canvas against the reflection of the lights inside their dorm. She only saw her reflection staring back at her, the dark shadows of her eyes making her look possessed. She looked over her shoulder, feeling a warmth beside her, but Enid wasn't nearby.

"Turn off the lights."

"Are you crazy?!" Enid wheezed, now hiding underneath her blanket and peeking from through her fingers.

"Kooky," Wednesday corrected, mumbling, as she switched the main lights off herself. The balcony behind the window was more visible with the shine of the remnants of the full moon lighting it up.

"Did you see that?" But Wednesday knew Enid hadn't, for the girl was still hiding in her corner. "There's something on the floor. Right outside."

"Wednesday Addams, if you open that window-"

Enid whimpered when she heard the familiar creak of the glass window and ducked behind her bed, now completely out of view to whoever Wednesday would be inviting inside.

Wednesday stepped one foot onto the balcony, eyes adjusting to the darkness as they took in the balcony. No one was there. The harsh autumn wind was like sandpaper scrubbing against her face, but it was a nice change to the heat she'd felt moments before. There was no light on in any of the other windows of the school. The night seemed quiet, like any other.

Finally, she looked down. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw it. By her feet, something was trembling and spasming on the floor.

It was Thing.

"Thing!" She rushed to pick him up and glared around the balcony one last time in case someone was watching her, her eyes flashing a silent threat, before closing the window and rushing over to her desk with him.

Enid felt like she could breathe again the second she heard the window click shut with a creak and realised only one pair of feet rushed through the room, but Wednesday's hurried steps didn't ease her nerves.

"Who was out there? You're scaring me, Wednesday. What-" Enid hurried over but halted as soon as she saw what Wednesday was holding in her hands.

Thing. With his fingers bruised and bloodied from a string that had tightly bundled them together. Wednesday was already working on removing the string from his flesh, gently unwrapping it from further digging into the slashes and wounds it had created. She kept silent, brows furrowed and eyes focused as she worked on the task, but her mind could only retreat back to one thing—

It was a violin string. Which could only mean... Wednesday was being warned.

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

© 𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀

@ghostheartbeat @the-night-owl-blr @engenelxver @screechcat @mary-jinx @mxal24 @novastargalaxydesigns @randomawesomeperson102 @reginassweetheart @mjoiner1136 @rockwyn @lostgirl1415 @rainbow-love4ever @the-lazy-turtle @elduster @queen-bunny @ghostheartbeat @lscvnty @iamnodens @alexkolax @main-queen-bunny @mcnusty @nev-valkyriesdottir @justareader5149

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

Last week I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter but I was too busy posting for thedasweekend and finish the first chapter of "The scared boy and lonely girl" (which is a part of the "beetle on the lilac" series)

I am far too late but I'll tag @dymme, @ollypopwrites and everyone who wants to join.

Have a (bigger) snippet of the second chapter now, which is mostly Emmrich remembering Siobhan and his shared past. This snippet focuses on the time where she is lost in the Fade.

Time and time again he ventured to her hiding spots, as if he was a broken puppet. Filled with the faintest of hopes to find her curled up fast asleep somewhere, like he did so many times before.

And he would have waked her in the softest way- or better yet laid down with her, just to hold her tight, telling her a story about his younger days, about a boy afraid of being alone. And she would have brought the warmth back to him, surely and steadily until every dread he felt was nothing more than a faint dream; already fading in the golden light of early mornings.

But she never appeared and his mouth tasted of unspoken words and regrets.

(...)

What a fool he had been.

Would they ask him to corpse whisper her, to ask the questions that needed to be ask? How do you wish your remains to be dealt with? A sentence that has become second nature as a Watcher. Would she answer him? Would she accuse him of letting her die or worse: would she forgive him and ask him to move on? Would he even dare to rip her back for questioning or be too afraid to do it, like he was with his parents?

New questions that tortured him at night.

__________________________________________________________

The first week he did not dare to venture into her room. What good would it have done anyway? Siobhan hated it with an unparalleled fierceness.

„Too much of Solas looms there,“ she said. „The only good thing are the fish.“

It was a shame that even a room to withdraw to seemed to be denied for her.

But after a very long and very tiring week, the lighthouse being too silent without Siobhan and Bellara to discuss theories in the library, without Harding ushering everyone to Bookclub, eyes gleaming with joy when there was a violent part, he caved. What if there was a hint, an answer in her room. If none of that, at least her smell would bring the smallest comfort, as if she was here with him as if she hadn‘t left at all.

Emmrich steeled himself before entering Siobhans room. How would her room look? Would it have changed, be warped entirely by the Lighthouse to mirror her absence?

But it wasn‘t. As he entered slowly, his footsteps echoing across the walls, Emmrich took the room in.

It smelled like her. Warm, spicy, earthy and with a floral note at the end of it.

"Smell like the flowers and the earth and you may catch some beetles." she had said when he asked her.

Maps were stacked on the various drawers in her room. Ink and quills roaming next to them, ready to put plans to paper, to make sense of the labyrinth in front of them.

The blanket the group gifted to her lay next to the couch. Emmrich touched it gently. It was soft and purple and it reminded him so much of all the times she sat before him, the fabric wrapped around her shoulders, drinking tea and telling stories. A small part of him protested when he picked it up and pushed his face inside its folds. He felt so very small again.

In front of the green monstrosity that was meant to be slept on sat the table with the unlit candles, giving a place to write down any thoughts, as one stared into the turquoise abyss behind the glass.

Something white caught his eye. A piece of paper placed neatly on the table, with his name on it.

His heart, which had calmed somewhat in the familiarity of it all, started racing again, making his hands shake both with fear and longing. Emmrich sat down on the couch and unfolded the letter with Siobhans handwriting.

"Dearest, Emmrich, Love of mine,

If you find this, I am dead. Forgive me for leaving you, before being able to make amends.

You seemed so afraid earlier, my love. I fear everything I could say to you know would make it worse but I will try my best to ease your pain.

My dear Emmrich, I never would hold it against you, but I fear you will so please know: I forgive you for what you said. No buts. No ifs. I forgive you.

I know what you said comes from a place of fear and worry, even when you have hurt me. I wish to apologize for my words too. I never wanted to hurt you and I shouldn‘t have let my anxieties get the better of me. You are always a comfort in the most dreary moments. The blanket that shields me from the horrors and keeps me warm. My guiding star.

I am writing this at Bellara’s place (again forgive me for not coming to you). I didn‘t know if you needed to be alone or craved company but I could not bear the silence of my room. The silence disgusting when you are not around to share it with me.

Bellara worries about you, you know? About me, too. She is entrusted with informing you about the letter if I do not make it. Take care of her when I am gone, will you? She needs her friends. As do you. If I can‘t be with you, I take comfort in knowing you still have Manfred and the others looking out for you.

Could you do me a small favor? Can you tell Vorgoth that he was the best caretaker I could have wished for? He needs to know. I haven‘t told him that in years and I was rather ungrateful as a child. Maybe you could send Myrna and Cerise my goodbye too? They are wonderful and shaped me in ways I never could have anticipated.

May I also ask for a second favor?

Live.

Fight the gods for me. Show Manfred all the marvels of the world, show him the wisps at the lovers graves. He will like them and they will tell him a few stories about- anything really. Tell them who sent you, maybe they will remember me. Who knows what they will whisper to him. Maybe light a candle for me there and remember all the good times we had, too.

You should also make new friends. You thrive when people are around.

Even if it paints me to say so: If you wish to fall in love again, dearest, please do. I only ever wished for you to not be lonely and I promised your parents I wouldn‘t let you. I am sorry, that I failed.

Do not fret. I will always love you, in this life and beyond.

And when your end comes in so many years (because you will get ancient, I feel it deep within me) I will await you on the other side.

If you still wish for me by then, as I selfishly hope, I will be:

- Eternally yours,

Siobhan"

He cried for hours after reading it, missing her with an intensity that tore right through his core. How could he ever love another when she had taken his heart with her when she left.

When he found the strength to move again, he steadied his hands and folded the letter neatly, before carefully stowing it away in his pocket.

„You are not dead, my dear,“ He whispered to himself, cradling her blanket as if it was the most fragile and precious thing in this world and carried to his room; where it belonged.

„I will find you. No matter how long I have to search.“

[5aaliyah5]

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me (Hange Zoë x Reader)

Just a simple one shot I decided to write 😭

Based on the song: "Never Ever Getting Rid of Me" From Waitress the musical (I love that musical sm and this song reminded me of Hange).

Hange is a very persistent suitor.

(thats it- they just wanna date you 😭✌️)

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: slight cussing, other than that none

“I went on a date” Y/N threw the multiple Keg mugs down with frustration. She had just gotten to work and was cleaning up the multiple cups that had been left on the tables from the nigh before. Another one of the tavern girls said she would close and clean up for the night since she worked the night shift, but she had apparently gotten sick towards the end of her shift and figured she would leave it for the morning. How lucky of Y/N to be in the morning shift the next day.

Another girl- Hannah- smiled upon hearing Y/N’s words. “Really? How was it?”

“About as good as a date can go with a member of the Survey Corps-” Y/N started but Hannah’s head shot up and slightly startled Y/N, causing her to stop

“No-” hannah gasped. “Y/N you didn't!” It was an unspoken rule that the girls who worked there agreed upon. With so many of their customers being Scouts who either wanted to drink away the memories or have a genuinely good time before they might die on the next expedition- it was a silent rule that the girls there were not to get attached to or romantically involved with any scout members. It saved them from the pain of possibly never seeing their beloved customers again.

“I did, and now my poor taste in dating is coming back to haunt me! They are in my section-” Y/N subtly pointed to a certain scout who remained seated at a table. Their back was turned towards Y/N and Hannah, leaving Hannah unable to see their face. “We ran into each other while I was out buying paper for the book im writing, and they asked me out. I know I should have said no, but they were so charming it was hard to…” Y/N pouted, as she explained the story to Hannah. “The date was not terrible in all honesty, its just… Their profession- You know why we don't get mixed up with the Survey Corps.”

“Here, ill go cover for you. I wanna see what made you agree to go out with them in the first place!” Hannah chuckled as she grabbed a clean mug to bring to them. It was rare that people came into the tavern without drinking in the first place- so Hannah had figured the same would be true of this customer.

There were few people actually in the Tavern, especially so earl in the morning. The few who were were either travelers who were enjoying a basic breakfast, or those who needed a morning drink (and most likely an afternoon and evening drink as well).

“Good Morning, How can I help you?” Hannah put on her best customer service voice as she looked down towards the Brunette soldier.

“Where is Y/N?” Hange asked, taken aback with Hannah coming up to their table. Hannah, paused for a section as she examined Hange. They weren't anything special in her eyes, possibly seemed like sort of a nerd, and she internally laughed at how predictable Y/N was with her type in dating. Hannah also noticed that in their hands they held a cute little bouquet

“Ill be taking your order for today” Hannah smiled. “She’s busy cleaning behind the counter since last night the cleaning didn't get done.”

“Thank you, but I really need to see Y/N” Hange answered. “I really don't mean to bother her, but wasn't sure how else to find her. She mentioned she worked here, and I wanted to speak with her about our date a few nights ago-“

Hannah looked to Y/N, which caused Hange to catch sight of her. Hannah shrugged and internally Y/N could hear her excuse ‘I tried’. Y/N sighed a rolled her eyes as she walked out to Hange’s table and slammed her hands down, making those around the table go silent. Before she could say what she initially was going to, her eyes caught the flower bouquet and she blushed. “Please just take the mixed bouquet and leave- just leave!” Y/N practically shouted, as the silence in the tavern made it carry throughout the establishment. She needed to scare them off (even if a part of her didn't want to), so that whatever feelings were developing between the two of them would cease.

Hannah and Hange both looked taken aback by her response. “You get 5 minutes before the boss gets back. Ill cover your section-” Hannah says as she places a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring manner. “Either settle with them to do this later or get them out of here and Be quick.” She shoots Hange a glare as she walked behind the counter where Y/N had previously been to continue the task of cleaning.

Y/N sat down across from Hange, her arms folded on the table as they stared at one another: “Go ahead.” She sighed “What’s your argument?”

“Im a Section commander-” They started and Y/N interrupted.

“So that means you’ll die sooner?” Y/N tilted her head, as Hange’s face didn't even shift at the question. They must have come to terms with their (probable) death if they were so unfazed by Y/N’s unfiltered and rather morbid ask.

“Well yes- but I get better pay as well. I would be able to take care of you-” They responded. Y/N brushed that off, waving her hand.

“Tch, I don't need anyone to take care of me-” Y/N huffed out. The gall of this- this- Y/N couldn't even find the words to describe them! “Thats why I have this job. I get by just fine Section Commander.”

“I would be a great lover” They grinned and added “and consider myself pretty decent to look at.”

“That sounds rather cocky of you, don't you think?” Y/N was now smirking as Hange continued to go on. She had to give it to them, they were persistent. “But you also look like you dont shower regularly. You admitted as much to me a few nights ago.”

“I did for our date-” Hange argued and Y/N laughed at that. What a very soldier thing to say. “Would hygiene be something you would want me to improve on before you considered dating me?”

“Hm- well maybe more regular showers.” Y/N admitted “But thats besides the point! You’re in the Corps. I dont- I cant do that to myself. That would be like shooting myself in the foot! What? I get attached to you only for you to die by the hands of a titan and leave me a sobbing widow?” Y/N raised an eyebrow “Not gonna happen.”

“Hm, you make a hard bargain” Hange now folded their arms, as they started to really think “Would it help if I said I research titans and what they are?” They asked

“Thats nice- but no.” Y/N shook her head now having a genuine smile on her face. Hange sighed and just as they were about to continue, Y/N’s boss (the owner of the Tavern) approached the table, an irritated look upon his face.

“Y/N!” He said, and she stood as her eyes widened. She had been caught. “Say your ‘I love you’s’ and get back to work!” He said and Y/N blushed once more.

“N-No its not like tha-” She didnt finish her sentence though as he cut her off, raising a hand to silence her.

“I dont care.” He said, and turned to walk away and speak to another customer.

Y/N, frowning, turned to Hange. “You should be heading out now, i've got work to do.” And with that, Y/N went on about her day.

•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•★•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•

It was silent the next few days, nothing eventful happening. She figured Hange had gotten whatever they had in their system, out, and had moved onto the next poor tavern girl that would give them a chance. That’s how it usually went with soldiers. They would flirt and go on a date or two with a town girl, then get over them quickly if they weren’t exciting enough.

Y/N yawned as she exited the tavern after a particularly slow day. The sun was setting, and she held the door open for the closing shift as they entered. The door closed and just as Y/N was about to start walking, something was caught in the corner of her eye.

“Huh!?” Y/N Jumped backwards, barely landing on her feet as she slightly stumbled, catching herself. To the right of her, right outside the door, was none other than Section Commander Hange Zoë (which did have a nice ring to it now that she thought about it). They were sitting on the floor, head down, as they looked up when Y/N addressed them, “Wha-What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?”

“No!” Hange stood to attention, almost as if they were in front of the commander. “No No, I swear Im not! Its just…I was in town with a few friends and… Levi took my horse.”

“Took… Your horse?” She asked, incredulous at the response they gave her. ‘You have to be kidding me…’

“Yeaaaahhh…” They scratched the back of their head “I pissed him off and he left me here… I was just about to start walking back to the base, but its at least a two hour walk.”

“Thats the stupidest thing i've ever heard.” She replied, her face deadpanned “Maybe you shouldn't have pissed him off. Fortunate for you, Im off work.” She looked the other way, down the pathway that would take her home.

“So you wanna go on another date is what im hearing?” They seemed to perk up.

“What?” Y/N snapped her head back to them “No- Stay focused! I can help you get back to the scouts base-” She shook her head, turning to start walking in the direction she had previously been looking towards. “You're helpless.”

“How?” Hange followed after her, now more hopeful at their predicament.

“Ill just get my horse.” Y/N said like it was no big deal “I've been riding since I was a little girl, so I could take you back to the base and get back home in less than 30 minutes.”

“You would help me out like that?” Y/N tilted her head

“Yeah, but you have to promise not to show up at my work again…” Hange reached their hand out, and Y/N took it as they shook.

“Deal.”

•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•★•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•

Y/N had been quick to go into her house and inform her parents of her quick trip, and then came back outside, unfortunately being followed by her mother. “Ah, and who is this Y/N? You've never brought home a customer so that must mean this one is special right?” Her mother mused as she stepped off the porch and towards Hange.

“Mama, im just doing a friend a favor” She paused and the asked “Please go inside-” She didn't listen though, as Y/N’s mother, walked up to Hange, visibly shorter than Hange especially in her older age. She seemed to examine Hange, adjusting her own glasses.

“Nice to meet you Ma’am. Im Section Commander Hange Zoë of the Survey Corps” And very quickly, Y/N’s mother grabbed onto Hange’s arm, pulling them towards Y/N with strength Y/N wasnt sure where the hell she had gotten. Her mother had always been a frail woman, could easily be blown away by a strong gust of wind. It must be that mothers strength that Y/N had always heard about in stories, she guessed.

“Mama! Your manners!” Y/N blushed at the display, and her mother ignored her.

“You’ve found yourself a nice strong soldier Y/N! A section Commander!” She said happily, and Hange also blushed. “I prayed this day would happen- having someone to take care of you. You work way too hard for how young you are-”

“Me and Hange are not together Mama-” Y/N tried to dispute her mothers claim “They are just a friend” she said, walking towards her mother.

“Really?” Y/N’s mother looked towards hange and shook her head “What a shame, you would look so cute together.”

“Okay Okay, thats enough. Im gonna get Buttercup and take Hange back to the scouts base. Ill be back before dinner okay?” And as she said that, she pulled hange towards herself and away from her mother, trying to lead them toward the horse stables. Y/N’s mother nodded and waved off Hange and Y/N.

“I am so so sorry about that- I didn't know she would do that-” Y/N apologized as Hange followed her once more.

“No, its fine. Its sweet how your mother cares about you and hopes for a good future for you.” Hange smiles. For a second, Y/N turns around and wants to question about Hange’s own parents, but she felt the question was too personal for how recently they met one another.

Y/N cleared her throat, as she approached Buttercups stall. “Here she is-” Y/N smiled and opened the wooden gate. Buttercup, a beautiful friesian mare with a black coat.

“Rather interesting name for a horse, considering buttercup flowers are dangerous for horses to digest” Hange noted and Y/N petted Buttercups mane, as the horse leaned into her touch.

“Yeah, when she was young my father got her for super cheap from a guy in wall Sina who had no idea what he was doing with horses and had fed her some buttercups.” Y/N recalled “The guy sold my dad her, thinking she would die within the next few days and might as well get whatever he could for her before she did. My dad though, who came from generations of farmers who had always cared for horses, knw just what to give her to make her feel better and she was healthy within the next 6 weeks. He then gave her to me for my 7th birthday, since she was such a beautiful horse. Too beautiful to do hard farm work, and worthy of being shown off around town.” Y/N smiled “all the girls in town were so jealous of her. And luckily she is still young- she has another 15 years in her with the way her health is” Y/N smiled and then turned to hange, seeing as they were intensely watching her.

“S-sorry” She looked down, as she started guiding Buttercup out of the stables “I just really love horses” She says.

“Don't apologize Y/N.” Hange stated firmly as they walked towards Y/N and behind her, reaching out to pet Buttercup as well. The sweet sweet horse simply tilted her head towards Hange and accepted the pets. “You should never apologize for what you love. Its what makes you, you-”

“Thank you.” Y/N said earnestly, and then went to grabbed the saddle for Buttercup. She placed in on her back, and adjusted it so that it wouldn't slide off. Y/N then mounted Buttercup, making sure to check and see if the saddle was placed correctly and she wouldn't slide off, before turning to hange once more.

“Its not the most comfortable position, but she could carry the both of us comfortably and is the only horse I have experience with.” Y/N said as she held out a hand for Hange to grip onto. They were fluid in their motions as they mounted the horse, sitting behind her, though she figured that was because they were used to ridding horses themselves.

“Its more than fine.” Hange responded as they gripped onto Y/N’s hips. Y/N shuddered as she scolded them.

“Move your hands higher, I know you can and I know you know that-” Y/N grinned, glad that Hange couldn't see it.

“Ah, right-” hange gingerly moved their hands a little more upwards to a comfortable position around her abdomen.

“Right, lets get going while we still have sunlight-” Y/N pulled on the reigns as she guided the horse into a quick canter. She didn't want to push Buttercup, as she was just used to either Y/N riding her short distances or helping with light farm work. As they cantered towards the scouts base, making great timing considering they were not hitting max speed, Y/N finally asked : “so, you’re a titan researcher? How does that work?”

Y/N could feel Hange perk up once more at the line of questioning. “Yes! Its fascinating work I assure you, and so fulfilling.” They started “I actually have two of my own-”

“Titans!? Are you mad?” Y/N asked, trying to turn her head to look towards Hange. They were crazy- she had almost gotten with a crazy person- she thinks in her mind.

“Perhaps a little. At Least, thats what most tell me” Hange shrugged, again unfazed. Y/N wished she couldnt give a fuck like they did.

“Alright- So what are their names?” She asked and then added “I hope you named them at least-”

“Sawney and Bean” They clasped their hands together as they recounted their experiences. Y/N listened, enthralled at actually hearing what titans were really like and reacted to certain things (aside from how they wanted to eat people). “They also were hard to get approval for, but eventually Commander Erwin relented with my unorthodox methods. Still, they are heavily watched since they are still a risk for people if they got out-”

“you didn't tame them then?” Y/N clutched onto the rope, now concerned for Hange’s safety (great- she thinks sarcastically).

“Who said I wanted to tame them? I think they are perfect just the way the are!” Hange smiled, seeming genuine in their response. “If I were to tame them, then I wouldn't get as much information as I needed out of them”

“But… they could eat you- They want to eat you!” Y/N argues “what if you get hurt?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N could feel Hange’s hands tighten on her waist. “I think thats a risk regardless though of if I kept titans or didn't. My chances of getting physically hurt are reduced, sure, but emotionally, us humans hurt each other all the time-” Hange said, and Y/N could feel the mood shift- “it doesn't mean I shouldn't stop loving people in fear of getting hurt, or not care about things. If anything, the chance of getting hurt but continuing to get another day to prove myself makes loving more rewarding every day. And in the end, some things are worth getting hurt for, even dying for.”

They… had a point, Y/N mentally admitted to herself. Why should she stop loving people in fears of getting hurt? She didn't stop loving her mother or father despite their old age and that they would eventually die as well. It didn't stop her from loving Hannah, even though the chance of something happening to Hannah was just as high as Hange’s or any of the scouts was because of her gender (Authors note: because men suck and terrorize women no matter what they do).

Y/N just nodded her head, not saying anything else the remainder of the ride to the base. She had a lot to ponder over for the evening. They didn't have to wait long as in the distance, Y/N and Hange could make out the lights from the scouts base, coming to life as the last rays of suns dipped beneath the horizon. As Y/N pulled into the gates, slowing down into a trot as she examined where to stop, they both took sight of three figures.

“You cheated.” Levi states as he, miche and Erwin stood outside, seeming to be… relaxing, and waiting for Hange’s return.

“You never said I couldn't get a ride-” Hange responded, obviously triumphant as they dismounted the horse and landed on their feet smoothly. Y/N repositioned buttercup so that she could see off Hange better. “You just said to figure out how to get back to base myself.”

“Tch. Whatever.” he responded as Hange laughed.

“You better go and check on those friends of yours to make sure they didn't get into any trouble-” Y/N said, smiling as Hange continued to laugh. They stopped for a second to look up to her. Y/N felt her heart start to flutter in excitement, just seeing how they looked to her, a way she hadn't noticed before.

“Ah, so they told you about Sawney and Bean?” Erwin mused and walked towards Hange and Y/N.

“What didn't they tell me about them? Don't worry, ill keep it under wraps from the town” Y/N reassured him. “I want to thank you all personally for your dedicated work. If you ever stop by Henry’s Tavern in town, ask for Y/N and ill give you four some food and drinks, on the house.”

“We appreciate that, and look forward to getting to know you-” Erwin stopped “What is your name?

“Y/N L/N” Y/N responded, reaching down to shake his hand. “Nice to formally meet you Commander Erwin.” Y/N readjusted herself as she noticed it was now nighttime. It didn't matter as she was on horse back and could get back home in no time now that there was only one rider and could gallop her way home. “Hey Section Commander-” Y/N called out from where she sat on Buttercup. All four of the scouts turned their head, intrigued by what she had to say “Ill take you up on that offer for a second date after all. Maybe you were right- Might just be rewarding to fall for you after all…”

“Ill make it rewarding for you. I promise.” And with a shake of her head and grin, Y/N rode off, back to her home to eat dinner and sleep.

“Im gonna marry her.” Hange states as they turned back towards their friends. “I promise you all that.”

“Only in your dreams, four eyes” Levi responded, though he also did not doubt that Hange could and would somehow accomplish that. He also knew that they were one to keep their promises, and that gave him hope for Hange’s future.

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear! I need to get another idea out of my head. And I know, that it'll be here in good hands ^-^

Wdisappearance (and also Mylo's and Claggor's) death and Vi's disappearance, Powder was her last everything.

So, even though Silco was one of the main reasons all of this happened, she decided to work for him, to be as close to Powder as possible. Even though she knew, that working for him would change her (negatively) as a person.

Years passed and all of the sudden Vi stood in front of Reader, asking for her sister. Both of them started a big, emotional argument. Trying to understand each others side. What happened, what changed - How they changed as a person.

So it's like Sister Reader x Jinx but also kinda Vi x Sister Reader?

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ

ᴊɪɴx x ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ) || ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 4193 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ʙᴀᴋᴀɪ!! ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! < 3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴠɪ

Y/N stood in the shadows of the undercity, the faint glow of neon lights from the depths of Zaun painting the air around her in harsh hues of blue and red. She had been here for weeks now, lost in the haze of her own grief and guilt. The streets of Zaun had changed since the explosion at the factory, since that fateful night when Powder, the girl she had once shared a bond with, became something else. A bomb, a betrayal, and a fire that consumed everything—Vi, Mylo, Vander, and Claggor were gone, leaving only ashes and broken pieces of what used to be.

Powder was the last thing Y/N had left. Her name was etched into her heart like a scar, a reminder of the innocent girl she had tried to protect, the girl she had failed. But now, Powder was no longer the same. The girl who had once looked at Y/N with wide, hopeful eyes had turned into something dangerous, someone willing to destroy anything in her path for the sake of vengeance.

And Silco… Silco had been the one to take advantage of that. The undercity was his to control, and he knew exactly how to manipulate Powder’s anger and grief. He was the one who kept her close, fed her rage, and used her as a weapon. Y/N knew Silco was one of the architects of their destruction, but there was no going back now. In a way, she had chosen this path. She had chosen to be here, in the heart of the chaos, where the promise of reconnecting with Powder lingered like a fragile thread.

"You're late," a cold voice broke her reverie.

Y/N turned to face him. Silco, sitting in his high-backed chair, eyes glinting with calculated malice, didn’t seem surprised. He never did. He watched her, his posture relaxed but the air around him charged with an authority that commanded respect. He had been patient with her, understanding of her pain, and she hated herself for the way she responded to that understanding.

"I’m not here to talk," Y/N replied, her voice steady but hollow. She had long since stopped fighting the darkness that Silco offered. "I’m here because I need to see her."

His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "You’ll see her when I allow it. You know how this works, little one. Loyalty has a price."

Y/N didn’t flinch. "I know."

But it was a lie. She didn’t know what she was getting into. She was too lost in her need to find Powder, to make things right, even if it meant becoming something she never wanted to be. Silco knew it, too. He had seen the cracks in her, the way the girl who had once been full of hope and ideals now teetered on the edge of despair.

"I want to help you, Y/N," Silco continued, leaning forward. "But you need to understand that to be close to her, you have to do more than just exist in the shadows. You need to prove your loyalty."

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if she had already made the decision, even before hearing the answer.

Silco’s eyes gleamed as he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping on the armrest. "There’s someone in Piltover who’s been a thorn in my side. A scientist. You’ll take care of them."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time Silco had made such a request. She had already done his bidding—small things, easy things, things that didn’t matter much. But now, it was different. Piltover wasn’t just some distant city. It was a place she had once dreamed of. The city where everything had seemed so full of promise before everything fell apart. Before Powder’s descent into chaos, before the factory explosion that took everything from her—her family, her sense of self, her place in the world.

But all of that was gone. She couldn’t afford to think about the past now, about the people she used to care about. She needed to focus on finding Powder. She needed to prove to herself, to Silco, that she was worthy of being in the same room as her again.

"Consider it done," Y/N said, her voice hollow, void of any real emotion. She had made her choice. She would do whatever it took.

Silco smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. "Good. You’ll find your way back to her, Y/N. But remember, nothing comes without a cost."

The mission was simple, but the weight of it crushed her. As she made her way into Piltover, Y/N couldn't help but remember the dreams she once had of the city—the idealistic visions of what it could be, what it should have been. The buildings, so grand and beautiful, now seemed like a mocking reminder of everything she had lost. The city had always been a distant world to her, a place that existed beyond her reach, beyond the walls of Zaun.

Now, it was a battleground. Her battleground. The faces of Piltover’s elite—people she had once admired, people she had once believed were different from the corruption she had seen in Zaun—walked the halls without a clue of what she had become. No one knew the things she had done to survive, to stay close to Powder. No one knew what she had sacrificed, the person she had become.

Y/N found her target, but when she saw the figure before her, something stirred inside her. She hesitated, feeling the weight of the weapon in her hand. The mission was so clear, so simple—one more kill, one more task for Silco. But in that moment, her grip faltered. She remembered who she had been, long ago, before everything had gone wrong. She remembered a time when she hadn’t been consumed by darkness, when she had hoped to change things, to find a balance between Piltover and Zaun.

That person was gone. She had died the moment Powder’s bomb had detonated, when everything had shattered into pieces.

With a swift motion, she silenced her conscience and completed the mission. Her hands were stained with blood, but it didn't matter. The weight of her actions no longer weighed on her. She had buried those feelings long ago.

As she stepped back into the shadows of Zaun, the finality of her choice settled in. She wasn’t Y/N anymore. She was something else. She was a shadow, a weapon, a tool. And in that darkness, she would remain until she found her way back to Powder.

Because Powder—her last hope—was waiting for her.

Y/N’s steps were heavy as she walked through the labyrinth of alleys and shadows, the weight of her mission pressing down on her. The blood on her hands felt as if it had seeped into her very soul, leaving an indelible mark that she could never scrub away. The streets of Zaun passed by in a blur, the neon lights flickering like distant stars in a dying sky, the air thick with the smell of oil, sweat, and decay.

By the time she reached Silco’s office, her hands were still trembling, but her mind was set. The moment she stepped through the door of The Last Drop, the world outside fell away. Everything was muted, dim, as if the bar itself was a place of refuge for the broken, the lost, and the damned.

Silco was sitting at his desk, the same cold, calculating figure she had come to know. His expression flickered with mild amusement when he saw the blood on her clothes, but his eyes gleamed with approval.

“You’re back,” he said, his voice smooth and controlled. He didn’t need to ask about the mission. He knew.

Y/N didn’t speak. Her eyes were fixed on him for a long moment before she turned, as if the weight of his gaze was too much. Silco gestured to a door behind him, his posture relaxed but commanding.

“Go ahead,” he said, his tone almost mocking in its calmness. “She’s waiting for you.”

=

Her heart hammered in her chest as she crossed the threshold. The door creaked as it swung open, and there, in the middle of a dimly lit room, stood her.

Powder—or rather, Jinx—the girl she had once known. The girl who had been full of hope, and now, seemed so far removed from the innocence she had once clung to. Her hair was wild and streaked with colors, her eyes a burning mix of madness and grief, the spark of chaos that now defined her.

Jinx’s gaze locked onto Y/N’s, and for a heartbeat, the world outside disappeared. She stared at Y/N as if trying to place her, as if the face in front of her felt like a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.

Then, in an instant, Jinx cried out, her voice wild and broken. Before Y/N could even react, she was pulled into a tight embrace, the younger girl’s arms wrapping around her like a lifeline. The force of it nearly knocked the breath from Y/N’s lungs, but she instinctively wrapped her arms around Jinx, holding her just as tightly.

Everything else fell away. The blood, the guilt, the distance between them—none of it mattered anymore. In this moment, the world was just the two of them, two broken souls that had lost everything, but somehow still had each other.

Jinx’s sobs were muffled against Y/N’s chest, her small body trembling violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Y/N could feel the tremors coursing through her, the weight of the chaos Jinx had carried alone. The explosion, the betrayal, the destruction—it was all still fresh in her mind.

"I thought I lost you," Jinx whispered, her voice a desperate mix of relief and confusion, her hands clutching Y/N’s shirt like she was afraid to let go.

Y/N’s throat tightened as she held her tighter. She didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could make this better. But she didn’t need to say anything.

“I’m here,” Y/N finally whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ll always be here, Powder. I’m not leaving you.”

Jinx pulled back just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, searching for something, some sign that this wasn’t just another cruel trick of fate. She found it—found the truth in Y/N’s gaze. Slowly, her lips curled into a small, shaky smile.

"Together?" Jinx asked, her voice almost playful, as if testing the weight of the word.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She smiled back, her heart aching but full in the same breath.

"Together," she whispered.

And in that moment, time seemed to stop. The blood on her hands, the terrible price she had paid, the path that led them here—it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Because they were together again. The last two pieces of a broken family.

Years passed, each one blurring into the next, as the weight of Silco’s demands continued to shape and redefine Y/N. The girl who had once dreamed of balance and hope, the girl who had once fought for a better future, was no more. In her place stood a shadow, a weapon forged from the fires of betrayal and chaos, with every mission, every task, stripping away the remnants of her humanity.

Under Silco’s watchful eye, Y/N became an extension of his will—a blade sharpened to cut through anyone who stood in his way. She no longer hesitated when the order was given. The blood on her hands had long since dried, and the voices of the past—Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Vi —faded into distant memories, replaced by the cold, ever-present weight of the choices she had made. Every night, she drifted into a restless sleep, her thoughts haunted by the ghosts of those she had loved and lost, yet the nightmares no longer carried the same weight. She had become numb to it all.

She was good at what she did. Silco had made sure of it.

Her name, once a source of meaning, was little more than a faint echo now. She had become a tool, a force of nature working in silence, her hands doing his bidding without question. Whether it was eliminating rivals, infiltrating Piltover’s defences, or securing the loyalty of Zaun’s most dangerous criminals, Y/N was always there, always moving in the shadows, her presence felt but rarely seen. She was a ghost in Silco’s world, and that was exactly how he wanted her.

=

It had been three years since that fateful day when she had reunited with Jinx, and in all that time, Y/N had watched the girl she had once known slowly slip further away from the person she had been. Jinx had changed, and Y/N knew it was because of Silco. He had moulded her into something new, something untouchable, just as he had done with Y/N.

Powder was still there—still the spark of chaos, still the wild and unpredictable force of nature—but now, there was something else in her eyes. A coldness, a hardness, as if she too had lost everything in the pursuit of a dream that could never be realized. Y/N had come to accept that the girl she had once fought to protect no longer needed protection. Jinx was her own force now, carving her path with reckless abandon, and while that terrified Y/N in some quiet corner of her mind, she didn’t have the energy to fight against it anymore.

Tonight was no different. Silco’s voice echoed in her mind as she stood outside a run-down warehouse, the chill of Zaun’s night air cutting through her like a blade. She was to make an example of someone—someone who had dared to cross him. Y/N hadn’t asked for the details. She didn’t need to anymore. She was simply the weapon, not the strategist.

The door creaked open, the faint sound swallowed by the hum of Zaun’s industrial heartbeat. Inside, the dim glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows across the floor. Y/N moved silently, her boots barely making a sound as she approached the target—a man whose life was now worth less than the contract Silco had signed for him. He was cowering in the corner, a pitiful mess of desperation. His fear was palpable, but to Y/N, it was just another job.

She didn’t hesitate.

The man was silent before she moved, his terror evident as she closed the distance between them. The faint tremor in his breath was the only sound she heard as she pulled the weapon from her belt. It was quick, and it was clean. No emotion, no thought. Just action. Just Silco’s will made flesh.

As she stepped away, the blood splattered across the floor, a dull reminder of what she had become. Another body. Another life taken for Silco’s empire.

=

Y/N returned to the Last Drop in silence, her hands still slick with blood, her heart still cold. She entered Silco’s office without a word, her face an unreadable mask, her eyes distant and void of any emotion. Silco didn’t look up from his desk, but he knew she had completed her task.

“Good,” he said, the word almost dismissive. “You’re becoming more efficient. I’m pleased.”

Y/N nodded but said nothing. She had long stopped feeling anything about Silco’s praise or scorn. It was all the same to her now. A small part of her—the part that still remembered who she used to be—hoped that one day it would be different. But that part was a whisper now, drowned out by the ever-present noise of her duty.

A sound at the door caught her attention. Jinx stepped into the room, her eyes wild and alive, her smile erratic but real. She was a storm contained in a fragile vessel, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel the familiar pang of longing for the girl she had once known.

“Y/N!” Jinx shouted, her voice high and full of excitement. “Guess what I did! Guess! I blew up a whole damn warehouse, just for fun!” She laughed manically, the sound unsettling in the silence of the room.

Y/N’s gaze softened for a moment, just for a moment. “I’m glad you had fun,” she said quietly, but the words were hollow. She wasn’t sure if she was lying to Jinx or to herself.

Jinx, oblivious to the distance that had grown between them, rushed over to Y/N, her arms flailing as she tried to grab her attention. “You should’ve seen it! The look on their faces, the way everything just went boom!”

Y/N nodded, her eyes distant as she watched Jinx in her wild, uncontained joy. She had always been the unpredictable one, the one who thrived on chaos. But for a brief, fleeting moment, Y/N could almost see the younger girl she had once tried to protect, the girl who had held her so tightly and whispered promises of a future together.

But that was before the blood, before Silco had fully taken hold of them both.

Now, they were just two sides of the same coin—both molded by the same hands, both irrevocably lost in the world Silco had crafted for them.

Y/N looked at Jinx, her heart aching, but she said nothing. The weight of the years, of the choices she had made, crushed the words in her chest.

She was his weapon. She would always be his weapon.

And she would never leave Jinx. But they were both beyond saving now.

The air on the rooftop was thick with tension, charged with the anger and pain that had been simmering for years. The sounds of the city below seemed to fade into the background as Y/N and Vi stood across from each other, fists clenched, breaths heavy.

Vi moved first, lunging toward Y/N with a fierce cry, her fist aimed directly at her face. Y/N barely dodged it, but the force of the punch made her stumble back. She retaliated quickly, throwing a punch of her own, her knuckles connecting with Vi’s jaw with a satisfying thud. The impact sent Vi staggering but she quickly regained her footing.

“You think you can just show up and everything will be fine?” Y/N spat, eyes blazing with emotion. “Where the hell were you, Vi? Where were you when she needed you?” She threw another punch, her anger only intensifying as Vi blocked it and retaliated.

“I was trying to save you both!” Vi shouted back, her voice breaking as she swung her fist at Y/N. “I never wanted to leave you! But after the explosion, I was thrown in prison! Do you think I wanted that? Do you think I wanted to be stuck in there while you—while you stayed with Silco?” She punched Y/N hard in the stomach, making her double over, gasping for air.

Y/N straightened herself, barely fazed, though her heart was pounding in her chest. “I didn’t have a choice, Vi! I stayed because I had to stay close to her,” she snarled, gritting her teeth. “I had to stay with Powder to keep her safe! I stayed for her, and look at what she’s become now. Do you think I wanted to become this? A tool for Silco?”

Vi hesitated for a moment, her face contorting with a mixture of confusion and anger. “You think I don’t know how hard it was?” she retorted, her voice shaking. “I was stuck in that godforsaken prison, trying to figure out how to get back to you. And when I finally got out, all I found was the wreckage. All I found was you—changed. And I couldn’t find Powder. I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix any of it.”

Y/N stepped back, her chest heaving as she processed Vi’s words. “You left us, Vi,” she said, her voice quieter now, but still laced with bitterness. “You were supposed to protect her, too. You were supposed to help us when everything fell apart. And you weren’t there. You were gone, and I was the one left to pick up the pieces.” Her hands balled into fists again, her emotions rising once more. “Do you know what I had to do to stay close to her? Do you know what it cost me?”

Vi’s eyes widened, and for the first time, she seemed to falter. “What do you mean? What did you have to do, Y/N?” Her voice was low, almost desperate, as she stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, the memories rushing back. “I had to bury everything I was. I had to do things I never thought I would be capable of. I did it because I needed to stay with Powder. I stayed with Silco, took on his orders—became part of his world—because it was the only way I could be close to her. To keep her from falling deeper into whatever nightmare she was becoming. I had to.”

The words came out in a rush, like a dam finally breaking, and Y/N’s fists trembled at her sides. “I had to make a choice, Vi. And I chose her. I chose to stay with the monster in order to keep her safe. And all this time, I kept pretending I wasn’t losing myself in the process. But I didn’t have a choice.”

Vi stood still, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her mind racing to process what Y/N had just revealed. She didn’t know how to respond. She had spent years imagining what had happened to Y/N, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to lose myself, too?” Y/N said bitterly, her eyes locked onto Vi’s, her chest rising and falling with the weight of everything they had never said. “I became a weapon, a tool for Silco’s empire, because that was the only way I could stay in the same damn city as Powder. And I stayed for her. But look at me now. Look at what I’ve become.”

Vi shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened to us, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But I’m not going to let you keep falling. I’m not going to leave you again. You are still my sister.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the words, but she shook her head, a pained laugh escaping her lips. “You think you can save me now, Vi?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of despair and anger. “It’s too late for me. I’m already too far gone.”

But Vi didn’t give up. She stepped forward again, this time slower, more cautiously, her fists lowering at her sides. “Then we’ll fix this together,” she said softly, her eyes searching Y/N’s for something—anything—that could prove her wrong.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her eyes locked on Vi’s, but her thoughts racing a mile a minute. The fire in Vi’s eyes was strong, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to believe it—not fully. The girl she once was, the one who fought for a better world, was long gone. The person standing before Vi now was a stranger, shaped by the darkness of Silco’s empire, molded by years of violence and manipulation.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Vi,” Y/N said finally, her voice almost inaudible. She shook her head, her expression softening for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve already lost myself. Who I was—she’s gone. I don’t even know how to be that person anymore. What Silco made me... that's all I know now.” Her words were barely a whisper, but they felt like a weight on her chest.

Vi’s face dropped, her hope beginning to flicker as she saw the depth of Y/N’s pain. She took a step closer, but Y/N took a step back, her resolve hardening again, a wall going up between them.

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Y/N whispered, her voice rough with the bitter truth. “But I’m not that person anymore. And I never will be.”

Before Vi could say anything, Y/N’s hand moved instinctively to her belt. She pulled out one of Jinx’s smoke bombs, her fingers trembling slightly as she held it up, feeling the weight of it in her palm. It felt familiar—too familiar. It was the only thing that had kept her alive through the chaos, the one thing she could still rely on.

With a swift motion, she tossed the smoke bomb to the ground, and in an instant, a thick cloud of purple smoke enveloped them both, clouding their vision and choking the air. Coughing, Vi tried to push through the smoke, but by the time she cleared her lungs and eyes, Y/N was already gone.

The rooftop was silent once more, the echoes of their battle still lingering in the thick fog. And Vi stood there, alone, the weight of everything they had said, and everything they hadn’t, hanging heavily in the air.

[chil-aglia]

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

Check-up

Didn’t have time to make art for this chapter. So, you get this instead. 

Be sure to read the tags on my Ao3 so you guys know what you’re getting yourselves into.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 days…it had been 3 days since Giovanni suddenly vanished off the grid. It caused a panic for the others, his brothers have been searching high and low, non-stop.

But they found nothing. Raphael had called in for backup, asking—begging, his human friends to help search for Giovanni. Mikey done the same thing but with Draxum.

It was all too hard to handle, but they couldn’t give up. Not when they had just started getting Giovanni to open up, let him have fun and be…normal. Donnie frantically typed away on his computer, scanning for surveillance footage, and clues for his older brother. He slams his fist in the keyboard, groaning in frustration as he glares at the screen.

A large red ‘X’ seen. No sign of Giovanni.

”Fuck…! Why can’t I find him?!” He hissed at himself, gripping his hands over his head. He was pissed off at himself. Why didn’t he install the tracker into Giovanni when he had so many chances?!

If he had, he would’ve been able to locate his missing brother in a heartbeat. Leo had walked in, hearing the commotion as he narrowed his eyes.

”Donnie you’re going to hurt your hand if you slam it again.”

”I don’t care. Gio is missing a-and I can’t do anything to find him!”

Leo frowns at his twin. He knew Donnie was eating himself up on the inside, staying up late and scanning every camera in the city. It had everyone worry, but they understood.

Leo took a moment to calm himself down, he was trying so hard to not just break down. He was the leader now. So he had to act like it.

”Donnie…we need to narrow down the possibilities of what happened to Gio.”

Leo took note that Raph, and Mikey entered the room as well, along with an exhausted Splinter. “Narrow down the possibilities…okay, we can do that.” Donnie mumbles in agreement as he looks to the others.

”Gio wouldn’t just leave out of the blue. He’s not like that.” Raph declares, the youngest turtle nodding in utter agreement. “Yeah! A-and even if he did, he seems like the type to at least leave a letter for us, right?” Mikey tilts his head, frowning at the thought of Giovanni leaving the family.

Splinter hums and shakes his head, “Perhaps…he was kidnapped?” He suggests, the comment having the boys freeze upon realisation as they all share a concern look.

”Kidnapped…but who would want to kidnap him? All the villains we know wouldn’t have the courage to do that just because they hate us.” Donnie analysed but Leo was quick to correct him, glaring ahead.

”Actually…there’s one person we know who is known for kidnapping.”

At first it was quiet, until Splinter softly gasps and narrowed his own eyes.

”Big Mama.”

-----

Splinter stayed back home, in case the others like April or even Draxum called for any updated news. The four brothers however decided to pay a visit to a certain spider lady.

They run through the hotel corridors before reaching Big Mama’s office, Raph forcing the door open as they all stumble in, weapons ready for a fight.

”All right Big Mama, where is he?!”

Big Mama spins around on her chair, she was in her human form as she smiles politely. “Turtlyboos. My, you sure know how to make an entrance.” She giggles before tilting her head and resting her elbows upon her desk in front of her.

”Now, remind me why you decided to break into my splendid hotel?”

Leo growls, stepping forward with his katanas raised and pointed at her. “Our brother. He’s been kidnapped and we believe you have something to do with it.” He huffs but Big Mama only widens her eyes before taking and waving her finger at them.

”I’m afraid your wrong blue one. I don’t have Giovanni.”

Donnie tenses and glared at the yokai, “We never mentioned his name. This proves that you know him!” He announces, but he steps back when Big Mama stood up from her chair and made her way over to them slightly.

”I only know of him because you boys have been taking him around the city, fighting crime and whatnot. It’s adorable really.”

She sighs and leans back against her desk, her hand tapping against the wood. “He also came by a few months ago. I introduced myself to him and even told him that he and his brothers are welcomed here any time.” She added with amusement, especially when she saw the puzzled expressions on their faces.

Giovanni had actually met Big Mama? When? How? Why?

Leo had many questions, but he shook his head. There were more important things at hand. “So, he’s not here? At all? You know nothing about his disappearance?” Leo inquired again, voice firm but also laced with panic.

Big Mama nodded. “I’m afraid I haven’t got a clue about this. I feel such sympathy for him. From what I remember, he was pretty skittish. If he was indeed kidnapped…well, I can only wonder what he’s feeling and going through.”

Her words were enough to make the boys quiet, tension thick in the air as they all turn around and leave the room.

None of them had said a word to each other. But even without mind melding there was one thing that they were all thinking.

Where the hell is their brother?

-----

It was quiet, the sound of ragged breaths being inhaled and exhaled was heard. The white tiled room was cold and bright. Too bright.

The only time Giovanni managed to make the room dark was when he lowered his head into his shell. He felt safe there, a sense of privacy. The lights in the room never turned off. He wondered if that was a way to make whoever were in these cells go crazy. Unable to tell if it was day or night.

Giovanni already didn’t know how long he’s been in the E.P.F. base for. Given he was knocked out upon arriving and then knocked out again for hours when he was in that operation room.

It confused him, but he tried his best to not show a hint of weakness. He thinks he was doing well in that department. But then again, that could just be his mind messing with him.

Giovanni was curled up to a corner of the room, refusing to get comfortable on the thin mattress that they gave him. It was a poor excuse of a bed. 

Giovanni didn’t have company from when he awoke from his dazed nap. The only time there was a hint of anyone watching him was when the door of his cell opened and a yokai would walk in slightly and push over a tray of food and water for him. They would then leave him be.

Giovanni didn’t dare try and eat the food they gave to him. He would take the water, giving a few cautious sips before gulping it down his throat. The tray would then get taken away a few hours later, leaving him back to be alone with his thoughts.

He gave a grumble as he leans his face against his propped-up knee, wincing when he felt a short wave of pain inside his mouth. He licked his tongue over his teeth, before stopping at the tooth he was missing. It was starting to grow back, but the process of it was a bit of a pain that he had to put up with. His neck was sore as he gently rubs his hand along the side, pausing when he felt phantom discomfort from the memory of being injected with a needle.

He gave a little whimper and lowers his head slightly into the comfort of his carapace.

He wanted to go home. Surely his friends and family were already looking for him. 

He closed his eyes, trying to rest but he didn’t get a chance to relax when the cell door opened, making him flinch at the sound as he perks up in alert.

”I apologise for the long wait.”

It was a new voice, and Giovanni lightly glares at the figure of a man walking in. “It’s been quite a while S129. I’m glad that you’ve returned to us.” The man was alone, with a monotone voice that had Giovanni shuddering.

The man steps closer inside the cell before stopping and staring. Giovanni took in the man’s appearance briefly before he froze, eyes wide like saucers and mouth hung open slightly into bewilderment.

The man was tall and healthily thin. He wore a black suit and black tie. His raven coloured hair that was once quite short from memory had grown out a bit longer, slicked back.

Pale skin and completing the look he donned dark sunglasses that reflected the frightened state of Giovanni.

He remembered who this man was. How could he ever forget?

John Bishop came back into his life again. After all these years.

”I hope you haven’t forgotten me. I worked closely with you from your time with us as a child.” John comments, hands still at his side as he took in the appearance of Giovanni.

John remembered when Giovanni was only a child. He was much smaller in comparison now.

But now Giovanni was grown. Still looking the same but he was obviously different. Older and muscles all toned out in the right places. From the looks of it he was being taken care of, healthy.

John opens his mouth to say something, but Giovanni beat him to it. “I-I remember you…Mr. Bishop.” He rasps out, head hung low, avoiding meeting his gaze, even if they were hidden behind those dark glasses.

John hums in acknowledgement, a tiny grin plastered on his lips for a moment. “Good. I was worried about that. It has been too long after all.” He noted, but Giovanni didn’t respond, his body shaking.

”You’ve grown.”

”Y…yeah. I have.”

John walks over, ignoring how the mutant before him tensed. Giovanni sharply gasps when John cupped under his chin and forced the turtle to look up at him. His pupils small and wild but he didn’t move away.

”According to my math, you must be at least a young adult. 18? 19?” He concluded, but he wasn’t expecting a correction or answer from Giovanni, letting him go as the yellow-bellied slider exhaled out a breath he was holding in.

Soon the sounds of heels clicking grabbed his attention. Madeline walks in with a soft and welcoming smile. “Hello, I see you’ve become re-acquainted with your other primary carer for your time here.” She informs, side eyeing John who crossed his arms, not bothering to even look at her in acknowledgment.

But Madeline didn’t seem to care as she focuses on Giovanni. “You’re in need for a check-up today.” She states, which had Giovanni shake his head in response. “N-no…no more needles.” He begs but Madeline only softly chuckles and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

”There will be no needles. It’s a simple check-up to make sure you’re all healthy. Right, Mr. Bishop?”

Both Giovanni and Madeline look back over to the agent who nods firmly. “Correct.”

Giovanni remains hesitant but he then thought that if he was going to somehow leave the facility, he would have to know where he was going. With a little nod of reluctance agreement, John Bishop strides toward him and took out handcuffs from his pockets.

He clamps them down over Giovanni’s wrist before walking away to the open door. Madeline stays beside Giovanni, leading the mutant out the cell and into the corridors once more.

The black panther yokai was present once more, gripping firmly onto the mutant to stop him from doing anything stupid. John led the way, Madeline standing behind Giovanni who was in the middle being dragged.

Giovanni darts his eyes around at each passing door, taking in every detail he could. The signs, the left and right turns. The number of cells nearby.

He gazed over to an open door, almost leaping out in joy when he spotted his gear and weapon being displayed on a wall. It was a storage room from the looks of it.

He was tugged forward, losing his concentration as he glanced up at the panther who could only growl lowly at him, making Giovanni somewhat cower under the intense gaze as he looks ahead.

They come to a set of two doors, John pushing them open. Giovanni was expecting to be greeted to another operation room like last time. But to his confusion, the room he stepped into looked more like an actual med bay.

Madeline walks past him and comfortably gestured to him to sit on the bed. Giovanni stood on the spot, not wanting to really listen to the people who kidnapped him.

He nervously casts a glance to John who stood in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he silently and eerily surveyed the mutant.

”No need to be afraid.” Madeline softly cooed, giving her best comforting look which finally had Giovanni to take control of his legs as he anxiously made his way over and sat on the bed, his legs dangling over as he fiddled with his hands.

He watched with cautious anticipation as Madeline hums a soft tune, walking around and gathering tools for this check-up.

He was relieved that he didn’t see any needles. As they had promised him.

Madeline appears in his line of vision, holding a stick that you would see at the doctors for when they check your mouth.

”Open wide for me sweetheart.”

Giovanni gulps, but he hesitantly listens and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue as he flinched when the wooden stick made contact with his stretched-out tongue. Madeline took out a small flashlight from her pocket and shined it inside the mouth. Giovanni was naturally nervous; shoulders tense and shaking as Madeline soothed him.

”It’s all right. You’re doing so good.” She praises before moving away and throwing the stick in the bin. “It’s only been 3 days, and your tooth is already regenerating. Fascinating.” She announced, looking rather surprised and pleased with the outcome.

Giovanni didn’t say anything, closing his mouth and keeping a watchful eye on Dr. Brookes. She returns back with a blood pressure monitor, gently wrapping the blood pressure cuff around Giovanni’s arm as the cuff started to compress.

”Blood pressure is high. But I assume that’s because you’re still anxious.” She noted, gazing back at Giovanni who lowered his head to avoid eye contact. 

She takes the compression blood pressure machine off his arm, placing it back into its spot on a desk. “Open your mouth once more for me.” She advises, holding a temperature thermometer. Giovanni listens as he felt the thermometer placed in his mouth.

He waits a few seconds before the thermometer was plucked out. Madeline himself and nods to herself. “Temperature normal for a turtle.” She spoke out loud, listing off everything she was doing.

This went on for a bit, doing the all the ‘necessary’ things that one would do in a simple check-up. No needles were present, which only had Giovanni relax a bit.

”Almost done. I’m going to feel around your body to make sure all the bones are intact.”

Giovanni flinched when she got close to him, moving slightly back for distance. Madeline hums and gently settled her palm against his cheek, rubbing her thumb in circles to ease the skittish mutant.

”Relax Giovanni. It won’t hurt a bit. Perhaps some discomfort, but it’s all necessary.” She explains, waiting for Giovanni to relax at her touch.

When his muscles weren’t as tense as earlier, she began to feel his arms. Taking her time with him. Moving her fingers up and down and around his toned body.

She did the same on the other arm. She traced her hands up along his plastron, making Giovanni shiver as she placed two fingers alongside his neck and his jawline. ”Tense here. I see you’ve gotten into a few fights before being brought here.” She noted, but Giovanni didn’t question as to how she knew that.

Her hands leave his neck before touching his thighs, making Giovanni yelp when she gripped his skin slightly. Shaking at her touch as he closed his eyes tightly when she began venturing her curious hands around his legs and lower body.

She was getting a bit too touchy for his taste, but he didn’t want to show weakness. Not in front of his captors. She eventually left his legs and moved around to go behind him, leaning him forward as she traced along his shell.

But that didn’t take much time as she hums and walks to a desk, jotting down her observations on a piece of paper that was attached to a clipboard.

”All done. See? A simple check-up. We’ll be monitoring you and—“

She began to explain but stopped when she heard a quiet sob. She turns around and saw Giovanni shaking, curling up slightly as tears rolled out his eyes.

Madeline approached him and rubbed at his shoulder soothingly. “Oh dear, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” She inquired, as she glances up at John who made no move to comfort the turtle.

“Home…I-I wanna go home. Please…” Giovanni begs, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He never did. He tried to stay strong, but it was very overwhelming for him to take in.

He didn’t even hear or see John move from his spot until he felt a firm hand grasp his other shoulder. Followed by John’s voice whispering in his ear.

“You are home, with the E.P.F. Or did you forget S129?”

Giovanni stared down in silence, his body felt limp and heavy. This was his home?

How though…? This place didn’t have his brothers or father, no friends around to come and visit him.

But he was raised here from his time as a baby. Was this place technically a home to him?

“Take him back to the cell.” John gives the order to the panther yokai who had been standing near the door. They pull Giovanni off the bed and forced him to stand. Dragging him out the room.

Giovanni didn’t fight back. Lost in his own thoughts.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What's this? Such a quick update already!

I APOLOGISE FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT WERE MADE, I TYPE PRETTY FAST AND OFTEN DON’T SEE THEM UNTIL I ACTUALLY PUBLISH THE CHAPTER. THEN I’D TRY AND FIX ANY MISTAKES WHEN I SEE ONE.

quotev - 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

Ao3 - 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

First chapter here

Next chapter here

[dracoroma]

Now that the campaign is over, I think I should drop my full thoughts.

As a start: I intitally liked the finale for the most part. We'll get back to why I said initially. However, I have one major gripe.

The first is that reviving Ashton really fealt like it cheapened their sacrifice. It was such an interesting choice that they gave up their life purely out of spite. In Ashton's eyes, it wasn't about saving the gods, it was about humbling them. That's fun, and interesting, and as much as I have feelings about Aston that we'll get back to later, it was cool. And I also think it left their budding relationship with Fearne off on an interesting note. All of that is completely undone by reviving them.

Anyway, onto the campaign.

I was really into the game in its initial sandboxy arc. The cast was fun and their interactions were all neat, and Inwas interested where the plot was going.

And then the god plot came in. And I have so many feelings.

As a religious person (hellenist and heathen), I felt constantly letdown this entire story. At the end of the day, there was no real evidence given in a pro or anti god direction. We're told they're tyrants who have too much control over mortals, but most people have problems because of a lack of intervention. The divine gate keeps demons and devils at bay, but there's other sources for that. There's no consequences to any option. And because of that, we're left with endless debate because we have no solid evidence.

All of this leads to the debate just turning into teal world reddit aetheist plot points because there's nothing in world to debate. This also felt incredibly dismissive of actual faith. Do I need to remind everyone how Ashton would not let FCG just be at peace with worshipping Avandra? That was incredibly frustrating. They also don't address at all how getting rid of the gods affects those who gind meaning in religion. The Hells and Keyleth were just like, "eh. Get over it. World's still spinning. " Excuse me, did we forget how much meaning Fjord told the hells he got out of his relationship with Melora!?

From a writer's perspective: well, all of this. But it was also incredibly boring because it means nothing is happening. This wasn't a complex, morally grey debate because there was absolutely no nuance. We don't see how the gods (or, in particular, the primes, because we know the betrayers all suck) are bad, and how things will be fine forever without them. So it's an endless de ate with no point that follows the same formula every time: same 3 points why gods are bad. Someone says "hmmm, i don't know". We end by saying "let's kill Ludanis because he sucks".

And frankly, nothing was happening for so long. So much of the campaign is an indistinguishable blob of time in my memory, with the standout moment being Aeor. And I think Ahton is the perfect case study. Talesin is on record saying Ashton was a critique of the obnoxious parts of the punk mindset, and they had no character growth. Their character development after shardgate reverted soon after, and their position was always completely dismissive of any other perspective.

All that being said, the most fun I had in the campaign was actually the live show. In part because I caught it live. I was on a family trip in the area already, and so my girlfriend and I made it to the show. And frankly, it was a really good session. It was mostly self-contained, which was good for her, who had not seen a single session of C3. It didn't involve the god debate, which was good for me. And it introduced Breius, who I genuinely think is one of the best PCs of the campaign despite coming in late.

Because Breius is sich a good deconstruction of cults and toxic relationships and why they're appealing, why you come back, and he ended up breaking free at the end!

But, now I think about the finale again. And I'm less positive about it than I was. Because I realize that most of why Infelt good was because this mess of a campaign is finally over. I overlooked how Orym and Opal and Imogen did not face lasting effects from their actions because I was so ready to be done with the god debate that goes nowhere.

[hippolotamus]

Sunday Sentences 🧜‍♂️

tagged by the lovely and talented @daffi-990 @tizniz @spotsandsocks mi amor @bidisasterevankinard @rewritetheending all with some fantastic words for today. A teeny tiny snip from ch 2 of mer!Buck (and a shameless reminder that Ch 1 is posted here):

“She won’t be so bad. At least you got the worst one over with.” He winks at Sophia who good naturedly rolls her eyes back at him. They still have their squabbles, but it’s not so bad since she moved in with her boyfriend and started her full time accounting job.  “Hey, uh, where’s dad?” It’s just occurred to him that his father is the one missing member of their group. The looks on everyone’s faces, a mix of annoyance and avoidance, tell him most of what he needs to know. “Did he make it at all? Did he even show up?”  “Of course he did,” Tia Pepa assures him.  Eddie swallows down the bitter disappointment climbing its way up his throat. “So, he at least saw me get my diploma before he disappeared?” “He will.” Soph holds up her cell phone that she must’ve recorded on. “I got yours and Shannon’s, by the way.” “Great. Thanks. I’m sure Linda will really appreciate that. Why don’t we go, uh, say hi to them?”

np tagging @diazsdimples @actuallyitsellie @bucksbignaturals @bi-buckrights @thekristen999 @your-catfish-friend @lemonzestywrites @a-noble-dragon @diazheartsbuckley @midsummersmorn @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @eddiebabygirldiaz @imtheiliad @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @monsterrae1 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @thelikesofus @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @mmso-notlikethat @loucifersbitch @buddiekinard and anyone else who wants to😘

[simps-4-russian-assassains]

Nobody has asked but here’s my head canons of what instrument each character would/‘ve played if/when they were in high school… basically high school Band AU (? I have no idea what I’m doing)

Elliot Stabler: Trumpet (look at that man and tell me he doesn’t look like he would play the trumpet, like come on his posture screams that plus of course military but I digress)

Olivia Benson: Bass Clarinet (her mother feels like she wouldn’t allow her much choice in which instrument she could play. So her choices would be either flute or clarinet becuz her mom wouldn’t want to deal with the noise. And so she picks clarinet but then highschool comes around she’s starting to want to distance herself from her mom and the band needs a bass clarinet… two birds one stone)

Melinda Warner: Saxophone (She’s a part of the group, but she feels slightly separated. You don’t worry about her becuz you know she can do her job. She gives the cool energy of the quiet saxophone kid that kept the band together. *Fun Fact, she is what inspired me to do this whole list becuz I watched the episode where it’s mentioned she was Air Force and just immediately knew she was in the Air Force Band*)

John Munch: Percussion/mallets (dude gives he learned piano as a kid and so can do mallets, and he gives vibes of percussionist that you have no control of his attention in the back of the room *He’s talking about his conspiracy theories* the vibes are there)

Odafin Tutuola (can’t spell it): Percussion/Toys (he gives crash cymbals… idk what to say, he looks like he’d be able to do the cool tricks *how he got his nickname, cuz the cymbals are his fins* and his relationship with Munch screams the old married couple of the section)

Alex Cabot: French Horn (look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think Alex *Hi, Uncle Bill* *Nepo Baby* Cabot wouldn’t play a stick up the ass instrument? But also play it so beautifully, and she gives the vibes dammit)

Rita Calhoun: French Horn (same reasons as above but also throwing in her and Alex’s friendly rivalry always fighting over first chair)

Casey Novak: Percussion/Trap Set/Quads/timpanis (Ok so she’s a bit more complicated. The swagger? Gives percussion. Her passion? Personality? Gives more then one drum at a time. And so I had to have one per season of band *Marching, Jazz/Concert, and Concert* I’ll include headcanons at the end if you need some mental imagery)

Amanda Rollins: Flute? (Open to contestments, only started rewatching SVU and so haven’t rewatched newer seasons yet, I can be persuaded on anything with her)

Sonny Carisi: Drum Major (the way he holds himself, and his presence within the squad, he’s a multi trick pony *Detective and ADA*)

Rafael Barba: Bass Drum (His presence is solid and consistent. He himself doesn’t necessarily need to be loud, he’s a constant solid beat, constantly moving them forward.)

George Hyuang: Clarinet (he reminds me of people I went to school with who played clarinet *In a good way* more evidence later on.)

Donald Cragen: He’s the director (obviously he’s the one in “charge”, he just gives director energy *its the dad energy* but when he was in band he play percussion specifically the toys, like triangle and cowbell)

Liz Donnelly: PTA Mom/Trombone (When she was in school? She played trombone, it fits the vibe of her being a girl/woman trying to fit in a stereotypical “boy/men” role. And I can see her trying to showboat act tough with it… idk I can talk more about what I mean but 🤷🏼‍♀️. But she also gives extreme PTA Mom vibes. But like in the way that she’s actually in charge, she’s keeping everyone alive. In the “well Cragen won’t care that much’ ‘but Donnelly is gonna kill us”, idk I see her with her 80s hair with a turtle neck sweater with a “I’m with the band” t-shirt over it, doing all the extra stuff… she’s band mom)

Lena Petrovsky: Choir Director (has to deal with their shenanigans, if needed can reign students in, must chaperone on most trips. She hates them, but she tolerates the few kids that are in both band and choir)

I’ll happily take suggestions… on most of them… I’ll hear anyone’s opinion about it

[trrenchertrash]

I was thinking about “I am the dirt under your nails” and first of all I don’t think it can be ignored that the title of e9 is derived from this line. Considering that, this line is evidently not meant to be a cutesy throwaway line between Cait and Vi, it has huge thematic weight and implications. If you think about the title “The Dirt Under Your Nails” in this context, it’s clear that it’s meant to refer to the fact that all of our characters have dirt under their nails. As in, their hands aren’t clean. They’ve all committed wrongs, because they’re all human, which is obviously a major theme of this season/show. The second part of this dialogue is “nothing’s gonna clean me out,” which fits with what Caitlyn says about how no amount of good deeds can undo those wrongs. This line is about accountability.

And there’s a reason why it’s Vi who says this line to Cait. The most obvious is that Caitlyn has wronged her, but it goes deeper than that. In e8, Vi asks Caitlyn who gets to decide who gets a second chance. There are multiple ways to interpret how this idea impacts the narrative. I’ve seen it said that Caitlyn allows Vi to free Jinx because in giving Jinx a second chance she also gives herself one, and that’s an important point for Caitlyn’s character, but I think Vi would’ve found a way to free Jinx no matter what. Cait just made it easy for her. What the narrative shows us is that Vi is the one who gets to decide who gets a second chance by having her decide to give one to both Jinx and Cait. I’ve seen people talk about how’s Vi’s role is that of the witness — to be the constant that observes all the change and corruption that happens around her, and to be burdened with the memory of all that has transpired. And that’s true, but there’s more to it as well. Remember this promotional poster? It has 3 different titles/captions associated with it (that I saw):

1) Horrors I’ve Seen

2) Everyone is Guilty, Vi

3) It’s Too Late to Point the Finger Now

The first one obviously reinforces Vi’s position as the witness. But the second two are about accountability. It always struck me that the second caption brings the collective guilt of our cast to Vi’s attention specifically. Now it makes sense: she is both witness and judge. The character with the “good heart,” the only one who remains largely uncorrupted/unchanged by the end. Who is motivated purely by her desire to protect while the vast majority of the characters around her are twisted by revenge and ambition. It’s absolutely intentional that she is the one who says that line.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[fettery-fetterie]

GIRL HELP WDYM I REACHED 30 TAGS??????? OMG???? I WASN'T EVEN DONE YET

ANYWAYS 31st: and that compared to a relationship where the communication lines are basically none or very fucking weak then yeah it is an upgrade I think. Idfk I was never in a relationship I'm just picking from the ones I've seen in my life

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.”