#they’ve never come to my house before I’ve been safe for years

[whoblewboobear]

✨Gamers✨ The results are in~

Thirstgate is on, let’s get nasty 👏

Post your thirstiest thoughts about past and present houseguests before the episode if you’re feelin silly 🥵✌️

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 15

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: The reader prepares to leave Frank and Billy.

Chapter Warning: Sad everyone.

It takes two weeks and a whole lot of healing for you to be ready to leave for Brookville. There’s an underlying tension between you, Frank and Billy. They’ve resigned themselves to the fact that you’ve probably heard their conversation as your hugs get shorter and you suggest moving out of Frank’s bed and into the guest room.

You’ve also started to sort through your things that have been left there, making sure they fit in your car and giving them away if they don’t. When Billy tells you it’s fine to keep your stuff there, you tell him it’s not fair to anyone to have stuff scattered everywhere, reminding him you’re a roamer and everything should fit in your car. He huffs and helps you after Frank gives him a knowing look.

As the full moon rolls around and after a conversation with Logan you know it’s time to head to Brookville. Storm is nesting heavily and ordering people around to clean the whole house from top to bottom. She’s also been very vocal about your avoidance when asked about an arrival date.

“Maybe don’t leave today though kid. It’s a full moon and the pack will be tense enough without you up and leaving.” Logan tells you on the phone.

“They’ve asked me to run out with them.”

“And?”

“I need your advice.”

“My advice? Hang on, let me sit down for this.”

“Haha.” You replied dryly.

“Well, to be fair you’ve never asked me for advice before.”

“You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, go on, I’m being an asshole. What’s up kid?”

“Would it be wrong? Would it be rude if I say no again?”

“You’ve never ran with them before right?”

“No, they’ve asked and I’ve always declined, just doesn’t feel right.”

“How so?”

“It’s weird. I’ve changed forms in the house but it doesn’t feel right to run out with them.”

“Go on.”

“It’s weird.”

“You said that already.”

“It feels like….” You let out a sigh. “It feels like it doesn’t fit. Like a shoe that’s the wrong size.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“If it doesn’t feel right there’s a reason for it. You’ve changed and ran in Brookville right?”

“Yeah.”

“And before that?”

“A couple of times in hotel rooms when I’d left it too long but not outside and then, well, back home.”

“I think you’ve answered your own question kid.”

“I’m not sure I have.”

“You have, just think about it.”

“Hmmmmm.”

“So, you’ll set off in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Let me know when you’re near and I’ll have Scott meet you there.”

“Logan.” You huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Stark’s security guy already explained how to get in and the security system. I just want to get in and get settled. I’m used to staying at the Coulson’s, I need to figure out the place. Scott will just get under my feet and piss me off.”

“Yeah he has that effect on people. I checked with the Coulson’s, their place is still off limits.”

You make a joke about being inconvenienced by their daughter going into labour there and assure Logan you’ll set off tomorrow.

You finish off packing the last of your things and putting together the gift box you’d started for Frank and his pack. You always left them a couple of things, oils, candles, healing potions and anything else you felt they might need, but this time felt very final and you made sure to get a bigger box and fill it well.

It’s late when you hear the howling of their return. You’ve been soaking in the bath tub for the last hour, taking a minute to ready yourself for the journey tomorrow. There’s soon sniffing by the door. Billy in wolf form.

“Hey pervert, I’m in the tub.”

He huffs and you hear him flop by the door. You can hear his tail flicking against it impatiently and decided to get out the tub before he tries to get in. When you open the door wrapped in a towel, he’s already rolling on to his back for you to rub his belly.

“Really Bill?” Frank says, wandering in, black sweatpants low on his hips. “I said fetch her, not ask for belly rubs, you damn idiot.”

You laugh as you reply.

“What’s up Frankie?” You ask as he approaches you. He wrapped his arms around you and planted a kiss on your head.

“Throw some clothes on and come outside.”

“Why?”

“Please just put something on and come outside.” He says leaving the room, calling for Billy to leave you to get dressed. He follows but the direction of his ears tells you he’s annoyed at not catching a glimpse of you naked.

You pull on a pair of boxers and an oversized T-shirt before strolling through the house to the deck, where you quick discover the pack and a select few of the extended pack members, along with Violet and her husband. They are chairs and tables set up and fairy lights wrapped around parts of the decking, candles are lit and there’s a pile of pizzas from your favourite place.

“What’s going on?”

“Aunty Witch, Aunty Witch. It’s a party for you.” Called Dani as she attempted to climb up your leg.

“What?” You said looking around at the group as you picked her up.

“Well, Frank said you’re probably leaving tomorrow.” Luke said. “And we’ve never got chance for us or the town to say thank you.”

“What for?”

“Really rarity? I don’t know maybe saving our town from Agatha, being part of finally taking down Hydra and everything you’ve done for us.” Elektra added, her voice starting firm but growing soft towards the end.

“We wanted to do a bit more than pizza but a little birdy told us if we did you’d probably turn us into frogs.” Matt added.

You looked towards Frank.

“Hey it wasn’t me baby.” He said pointing towards Violet, who shrugged nonchalantly.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Sure we did. Now, can we eat because I really need to get these feral kids to bed.” Added Jessica.

“Hey I’m not feral! Am I Aunty Witch?”

“No of course not.” You smiled.

The night passed as drinks were passed around, pizza well eaten and stories shared. Frank’s arm finds your shoulder and you don’t pull away this time. The same as when Billy’s hand finds you knee and begins rubbing circles on it with his thumb. Hours have passed when Luke lifts a sleeping Dani from your lap. Telling you to call if you need anything, just like he always does. Jess hugs you and looks like she’s about to say something deep but kisses your temple instead, a lump in her throat as she tells you to text her. Elektra slaps your ass as you clear away the pizza, never one for goodbyes. Matt hugs you briefly and is firm when he tells you to call him if any of the agencies start bothering you. Foggy hugs you tightly like you’re going to war and leaves without saying anymore. Violet hugs you too as Frank shakes hands with her husband, thanking them for coming.

Then it’s just the three of you.

“Bed?” You ask and they both smile and follow you inside.

Full of beer and pizza it doesn’t take long for you to drift off but even a sleepy you feels Frank and Billy hold you a little tighter that night.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. You think about slipping away but a quick sniff lets you know Frank and Billy aren’t far and someone’s making pancakes. You get dressed and freshen up, heading out to the kitchen to find them both shirtless and making breakfast.

How you had managed to not climb these two like a tree was a damn miracle. Billy shot you a wink and you worried for a second you might have said that out loud.

“Sit down princess. Can’t have you leaving on an empty stomach.” Billy smiles, nodding towards the table. You don’t miss that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Frank squeezes his shoulder before bringing you a tea, quickly placing it on the coaster and dropping a kiss to your head before returning to Billy’s side.

“Violet sent over some danishes and a fruit salad for you to take with you, with a message to eat the fruit first.” Frank told you.

You smiled and said a quiet thank you, pulling out your phone to send her a message.

“Here you go princess.” Billy said, placing a plate down in front of you. It had at least six pancakes stacked up, bacon, egg and was covered in syrup.

“Bill I can’t eat all this. I’m still full from all that pizza.”

Your stomach rumbling confirmed your little white lie.

“Baby, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. Being hungry on a full moon is normal. Don’t listen to anything that mother of yours told you. Eat up. I can’t have you leaving here hungry.” Frank tells you.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started to eat as the three of you made idle conversation. Once you’d all finished there was a long moment of silence. The three of you knowing it was time for you to leave but this time it feeling so very final. Frank sighed and then broke the silence.

“Baby, I want to be really clear on something OK, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you get in trouble or you need a place to stay, you come here or you call us. Doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow, next week or a year from now, we’ve got you Omega, OK?”

You nodded tearfully.

“What if you find someone though? What if your second chance rolls in? What’s she gonna think of me strolling in and out?”

Frank reached out and squeezed your hand.

“Baby, if ain’t you, if you’re not the second chance, it’s never coming.”

You nodded and let out a shuddered breath. Unable to hold in your emotions anymore and with the lights starting to flicker you let the tears pour down your cheeks. Frank stood and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m sorry Frankie, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry it’s not me.”

“Me too kid. Me too.”

A chest against your back and sniffling in your hair let you know Billy had joined you both. You stayed like that until the tears slowed and the buzzing of your phone pulled you apart. You glanced at it.

“It’s Logan, wants to know if I’ve set off yet. Storms getting angsty.”

“Well you better not keep the pregnant lady waiting.” You laughed lightly as you wiped away your tears, pulling away to get the last of your things that hadn’t made their way to your car.

It didn’t take long and shortly after you were in your car and pulling away from Frank and Billy’s and their pack. You told yourself you were fine, even as tears rolled down your face and you started to play your sad songs playlist.

It took you a few hours to reach Brookville and the compound that housed Stark’s cottage. The gate looked heavy and reinforced and was surrounded by cameras, but opened as you neared it. You’d have been concerned if you’d not been asked for your number plate before. You drove down the gravel path and looked around at the heavy woodland. It wasn’t what you expect from Stark and was so different from that enormous and ugly skyscraper in the city.

When you pull up outside your new place to stay you’re quick to mutter ‘cottage my ass’ and decided you’d text Stark’s security guy, Happy someone, some quip about it not being a quaint cottage like he’d described. Sure it was nice, but it was also bloody huge. Again, cottage my ass. There’s a pretty little white picket fence around the garden and you wonder why there’s a need for it if Stark is part of the pack or an extended part at least and this is all pack land.

You decided to head inside first to familiarise yourself with the place before unloading your car. You take the side door and input the code Happy has given you. A projection of the him suddenly appears and he greets you as the door unlocks and tells you the keys, security tablet and a welcome basket are inside on the kitchen island. You thank him and go in, leaving the door open ready to bring in your things.

Your eyes go wide when you enter and you’re wondering if they really meant to loan you Stark’s actual cottage. Happy had told you it wasn’t quite finished and you’d expected a building site. How was this not finished?

You scanned around the lower levels. Mostly open plan and decorated in light colours. Homely but also very sleek and fancy. The kitchen was brand new and full of every Stark device you could think of. Before you had chance to peek upstairs an electronic sounding voice sounded.

“Welcome Miss Y/L/N, please register.”

You remembered then that Happy had told you over email to go straight to the tablet on the kitchen island to register yourself on the security system and that it you weren’t quick enough an alarm would sound.

Shit. You really didn’t want to piss off the pack by setting off alarms when you’d just got here. You found the tablet quickly and filled in your information, thankful that your basic info had already been part filled in. It finished by taking a photo of you, which you weren’t overly comfortable with but decided you’d get over it once you’d drank the wine in the fancy welcome basket.

“Thank you Miss Y/L/N, your registration is complete.”

You looked through the welcome basket to see what treats you’d been left, macrons, some fancy snacks, fresh bread and……….apple pie? You could definitely smell apple pie and it smelt delicious. Like all American homemade apple pie. Even nicer than the one in Violet’s diner. Not that you’d dare tell her that though. You rummaged through the basket as your mouth started to water but couldn’t find it. A chiming sound coming from somewhere sent you to the oven. But there was no pie there either? The smell got stronger and then your wolf picked up the sound of footsteps. Had Logan sent Scott with pie? The chime went off again.

“Why are you chiming? Where are you chiming? What are you chiming for?” You said putting your hands on your hips. There was a sudden surge in the scent as the footsteps neared and then a voice. But not Scott’s, a voice you didn’t know.

“It’s to let you know someone’s coming up the path.”

You swung round to find a figure in the door way. Definitely not Scott Summers and definitely not a beta.

At least 6ft 6, with quite possible the broadest shoulders you had ever seen. Blond hair pushed back from his face, and a beard a little darker than the hair on his head. Your eyes met his and you found bright blue eyes staring back at you.

Alpha.

Your alpha. Your second chance.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @jvanilly @slut4rogers @otterlycanadian

[chrisevansonly]

That’s My Boy

pairing: chris evans x female reader

summary: visiting jimmy fallon was one of chris’s favourite kinds of interviews to do, especially when he gets to brag about his wife and kids

warnings: some backstory of bad marriage but other than that none!

a/n: thank you to the anon that requested this! I did change a few things but I hope this is still okay!

Deep down Chris secretly like doing talk shows especially if he got to sat down with Jimmy Fallon, who was one of his favourite hosts, never failing to bring lots of laughs and lots of smiles to his face. Though he could have you to thank for that as you sat off to the side, your son Noah asleep against the baby bump that was steadily growing every day. Noah wasn’t biologically Chris’s having come from a different relationship, one that wasn’t safe or healthy for either of you, but he loved Noah with everything in him, and couldn’t imagine life without the two of you by his side. 

When you caught him looking you threw him a smile and a small wave, knowing they were on commercial break he mouthed a silent ‘I love you’ your way, your cheeks flushing before turning your attention back to the 3 year old who was now snoring softly. When the music picked up Chris focused his attention back onto Jimmy and they jumped into promotion for his new movie, as well as future goals and projects. 

“So, I have a question for you, well only if you want to answer it of course”

Chris nodded 

“Sure, sure” 

“Okay, now this is quite literally the cutest photo I think I’ve seen in a long time; I was wondering if we could have some backstory on this moment...”

Jimmy turned a card around and it showed Noah curled up with Dodger who had his nose resting against your stomach, the sun was peeking through the living room and there was a cartoon playing on the tv, instantly Chris smiled before clearing his throat 

“Yeah, I remember that morning because 5 minutes later it was chaos” 

Laughter filled the audience, and even you couldn’t hold back the laugh, the memories so vivid in your mind at just how crazy that day truly had been 

“This is your son Noah, right?” 

“Yep, that would be Noah, though he was two in that photo, now he’s three, so getting bigger everyday” 

Chris paused to take a sip of water and then continued 

“Noah loves Dodger, I mean they’re best buddies those two, get into all sorts of trouble, I swear they are two peas in a pod” 

“Ah so they get into just about everything then?”

Chris laughed with Jimmy 

“Oh yeah, you name anything, and they’ve probably gotten into it, but Noah loves to cuddle with him and-and just spend time lounging around the house with his mom too, so the morning I took this was just after I got back from a run and they were all bundled up on the couch, it was too sweet for words.” 

A smile spread across Jimmy’s face as he ‘awed’ gently

“You and your wife, Y/N, are expecting another baby soon too, right?” 

Chris glanced at you before looking back over 

“Yes, we are, they are due I believe it’s September 3rd or sometime around there”

“That’s very exciting, congratulations to you both!”

“Thank you, thank you, we are really excited” 

Jimmy and Chris continued to talk about a few things before they wrapped up the show, he was quick to find you and Noah instantly reaching out to take the sleeping toddler into his arms, so you didn’t have to hold him anymore.

“You did great out there, I like seeing you that happy and relaxed” 

Smiling up at him he leaned down to press his lips to yours softly before pulling back to wrap an arm around your waist, leading you out to the car waiting to take you back to your hotel. 

“I’m always happy and relaxed when you guys get to come, and of course talking about Noah and my wife who just so happens to look absolutely beautiful tonight, helps to brighten the mood” 

“Trying to butter me up Evans?”

“Hmm maybe, is it working?”

You laughed stopping to give him one more kiss 

“A little…”

Chris helped you into the car before setting Noah in his car seat and making sure he was strapped in properly before the blacked-out SUV pulled away from the curb. He would never understand how he got so lucky to be loved by you and to have his own little family, something he used to dream about but never thought he’d ever get. So, as you headed towards your hotel, no doubt to enjoy some New York take out and a cheesy romance movie, he couldn’t help but thank whoever brought you and Noah to him, and now a soon to be brother or sister to Noah. Chris had never felt luckier, and it was all thanks to you and Noah. 

[vigilskeep]

i am soo fascinated with your rook and viago's relationship and would love to hear more of your thoughts on their dynamic. How long do you think they have known each other? And do you have any ideas how Sol became a crow?

thank you!!

all of the below is a work-in-progress in case the game drops anything startling or i get a new idea for sol, but they’ve known each other basically forever. like, since scrappy little kid sol said very cheerfully “i’ll protect you and you’ll protect me. that’s an allegiance.” and a very skeptical friendless teenager viago said “you mean an alliance?”

house de riva never knew what hit it.

(admittedly taking over house de riva took a couple decades, but hey, viago got there eventually, and neither of them even died. win!)

i think sol had been increasingly unreliable + erratic for several years before the antaam debacle, with viago unable to do anything about it because he apparently canonically can’t express genuine emotions to them face to face or do anything harsher than write them a letter addressed “idiot”. that behaviour might have just been because when viago finally took power, sol was thus in a significantly more stable less dangerous position day to day than they had been accustomed to their whole life, and also no longer had a clear purpose to claw towards, which meant the trauma of everything prior finally landed. or maybe there was some other trigger, i haven’t decided. i’ve been throwing around some elaborate plots to set things off. because i can.

sol’s been with the crows since they were very young. i haven’t settled on an origin story entirely but my brother had a very compelling prompt about them being a fifth blight refugee from the south—they would have been four or five at the time, isn’t that crazy—that i’ve been getting a lot of mileage out of. it adds a lot of flavour to the blight plot and to sol taking up the champion spec, for sure! i came up with something about antiva not accepting refugees off the boats but the crows then coming and offering to give some children a “safe” place (and even compensate the families with a handful of gold for their loss! how altruistic), which feels very real to me as a thedas-esque thing to happen

so sol’s life before the crows doesn’t really mean anything to them—pretty dismissive about their birth family, if you really cared about something you would figure out how to keep hold of it—and they don’t have anyone except viago. these days they know deep down they want out of the crows, but they still couldn’t bear to try cutting ties to the one person they invested two decades of blood into, even if they get very little back from him, emotionally speaking. (please use your WORDS, viago, the NICE ones, everyone with eyes already knows you care.) the world outside is comparatively a big old void they has no connections to, and the crows aren’t the kind of lifestyle that lets you go halfway and visit on weekends. it’s the sort of mindset that might make someone act out in a way that would get most crows killed, then jump on an insane quest of heroism just because some dwarf expressed belief in them while calling them “kid” encouragingly. not that sol’s ever done anything like that!

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes BONUS PART

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).

The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.

March 28, 1986

God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe. 

You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault. 

I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.

Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you. 

March 29, 1986

Hey Eds

You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.

I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.

You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up. 

Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.

March 30, 1986

Made it through a second night, babe. 

I hope you wake up soon. 

Miss you like crazy. 

I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time. 

The thing is. 

The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this. 

And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?

I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together. 

Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.

March 31, 1986

You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers. 

Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.

April 7, 1987

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

September 18, 2015

It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.

Still pisses him off, though. 

Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover. 

He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.

Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.

What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:

“I fucking hate this class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“trig. You?”

“Algebra 2 :(” 

A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”

“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”

 “What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?” 

 “If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.” 

“Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No”

“What are you doing about Hellfire?”

“Huh?”

“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”

“He made his choice.”

“You ever been in love?”

No, but I think I’m falling”

“I love you, Eddie”

All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.

There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad. 

Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.

Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead. 

In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:

“Eddie, 

         Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor. 

He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?” 

Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”

Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol. 

They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”

Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.” 

“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.

“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”

“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Where we going?” 

“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”

“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”

“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.” 

Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.

“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.” 

He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.

"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."

Edited: check out the full version on ao3!

This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro

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@trainchomp @anaibis

[vanfleeter]

Don't Take The Girl // JTK

Characters: Jake x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Mentions of guns, robbery. Allusions to violence. Pregnancy. Childbirth with complications.

Summary: Based off of the song Don't Take The Girl by Tim McGraw.

Jake waits patiently on the steps of the front porch for his father to come outside. He had offered to take Jake to the soccer fields by the elementary school to practice some of his drills. Hearing the sound of tires rolling over the gravel of their driveway, Jake lifts his head to see the familiar white mini van that he knows only belongs to Y/N’s mother.

He sits up, dropping his hands between his knees. The side of the van slides open and Y/N jumps out. He hears her utter a few words to her mother, along the lines of “Six… I’ll behave… Love you too…”, before she comes bounding up the walkway to the front porch.

“Good morning Jake.” She says, giving him a smile. “Ready to get your butt kicked?”

He groans. “You’re coming?”

Y/N nods her head as she adjusts the strap of her gear bag on her shoulder. Jake stands up from the porch and steps back inside the house.

“Dad!” He calls.

“I’m coming,” His father says as he walks out of the house. “Sorry, your mother was writing out a grocery list–some things for us to pick me up for dinner on our way home.”

“Y/N is coming with us?” Jake says, resting his hands on his hips as he looks at his father with a disdained look on his face.

“Yes, she is.” He says. “Her mother needed someone to watch her while she’s at work and I offered. Plus, with her also playing soccer, I thought it would be a good thing for her to practice with you.”

“Oh but Dad, can’t we take someone else with us? Maybe Josh? O-Or Sam? Anyone but her, please. Don’t take the girl.”

His father rolls his eyes and ruffles Jake’s growing, chestnut locks. “Come on, let’s go.” He says as he grabs his keys. “Don’t forget your stuff.”

-Ten Years Later-

Nervously and anxiously, Jake taps his thumbs on the steering wheel of his truck as he drives down the road to her house. Each mile he gets closer, the more nervous he gets. He knows he shouldn’t be this nervous, they’ve been together for a couple years now, yet he is nearly sweating bullets and his heart ready to burst out of his chest.

She’s always made him nervous. A good nervous–if that is even a thing.

Pulling into her driveway, he starts to get out of the truck when he sees the front door fly open and she flies down the steps with a big smile on her face. He chuckles as she throws her arms around his neck and embraces him in a hug.

“I’m so excited.” She says.

“It’s just the drive-in.” He laughs.

“Yes but it’s a special showing of The Goonies! I’ve never seen that movie on a screen bigger than my tv–and you know how small my tv is.”

Jake smiles and escorts her around to the passenger side of the truck and pulls the door open for her. “Oh I know.” He says. Once she’s safely inside the truck, he closes the door and jogs back around to the driver’s side.

–

“I’m going to go get something to drink, do you want anything?” Y/N whispers as she reaches for the door handle.

“No, but I’ll still come with you.” Jake says as he removes his arm from around her shoulders.

Y/N orders her drink and Jake pulls out his wallet to pay. “I can pay,” She says.

Jake shakes his head and slides the card across the counter for the employee to swipe. “I am the gentleman, I pay.”

“Oh.. You’re the gentleman.” Y/N giggles before sipping her drink through the straw.

Taking the card back from the employee, he slips it back into his wallet and stuffs it into the pocket of his jeans. As they make it back to the truck, he leans down and pecks her on the lips making her giggle again. A sound he loves so much.

A click sound can be heard beside them and Y/N feels the cold metal of a gun being pressed to her back. Jake looks behind her to see a man standing there with a gun pressed to her back as he grabs her arm and pulls her to him.

“Listen to me carefully, okay? I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if I have to.” The man says.

Jake can see the fear in her eyes. Jake holds out his hands in the air. He reaches slowly for his wallet and pulls it out and dangles it in the air for the man to see. “Take my wallet, man.” He says. “The keys are still in the ignition, you take the truck too, I don’t care.” He reaches for his necklace and pulls it off. “Real gold, it was a gift from my mom but you can take it too. Just please, don’t take the girl.”

The man pounders Jake’s offer. He then shoves Y/N back to Jake and takes the necklace from his hand before running off and disappearing somewhere in the woods.

Jake wraps his arms around Y/N as kisses her forehead. “You’re okay. I’m here..” He says as he holds her tightly. “I’m right here. We’re okay..”

-Five Years Later-

“Jake!” Y/N calls as she waddles into the kitchen.

Jake looks up from his laptop. “Feeling alright? Need help shaving again?”

Y/N laughs but shakes her head. “No.. I think the baby’s coming.”

“Oh shit..” Jake quickly closes his laptop and springs up from the kitchen chair. “For real?” Y/N nods her head and Jake grabs the car keys. “Alright, okay. We’ve got this.” He says as he leads her out to the car. A car he traded his truck in for, despite Y/N telling him that he could still keep that old thing.

–

She had been pushing for a half hour when she began to slowly grow weak. Her grip loosens on Jake’s hand, her heart rate dropping on the monitor. It was all a blur as they rushed her out of the room. He didn’t know what to do. But as if it were an instinct, his body crashes to the floor, catching himself on his knees.

He can hear the cries of their baby. Or was that him. Somewhere in the distance the doctor speaks to him. He can’t lose his wife. Not after all these years.

She’s his everything. His life. His heart. His true love.

“Please, please, please..” He begs in a whisper. “Take me instead. I don’t think I can live without her. God, please, if you’re real, I am begging you to not take the girl. Please…”

—

Jake sits there on the front porch, waiting for his father to come outside when he sees the minivan pull up in the driveway. A smile spreads across his face when he sees Y/N jump out the side door.

Daddy’s taking the girl with them.

[immergladsss]

Maria and The King of Thieves

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre, thank you for all the work you put into the fandom and Moonacre Week every year ❤️

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1:

Our story begins, as many typically do, with misfortune falling upon our protagonist and thrusting them into a new journey, irrespective of the protagonist’s feelings on the whole matter; for that is exactly how Maria Merryweather, just sixteen years of age and freshly debuted, found herself living neck deep in the countryside begging for work at the wash house. 

“I know your lot!” The head laundry maid, Mrs. Miller, said with a scowl. “You come around here looking for work, only to quit within the first day!” 

“Please I–”

“Just look at your hands! They’ve never seen a day of work. There’s no way you’re a commoner! Probably the bride of a failed elopement. I will not be having any trouble at my door.” 

“Please!” Maria all but fell on her knees as she implored. “Please just listen! Yes, I’ve been fortunate enough to not know work, but no! I'm not some runaway bride! I’m an orphan who was robbed before arriving with my family! Whatever fortune I once had has left me crawling for crumbs and I am paying for it threefold! I promise I will not cause trouble. I simply need work to afford the replacement of my stolen garments.” 

“Hmm…” The lady, Mrs. Miller, studied her. Maria was wearing a simple brown linen dress, faded with age. Her hair was hidden by a once-white bonnet, though a few light-red strands stuck out. Not many around here had red hair. There were a few families…one of which could get her into trouble, though the redheaded brother hadn't been seen in over two decades…  “What family are you from?”

“The Trotters.” 

Mrs. Miller looked over her shoulder and shouted at her workers. “Which of you is willing to teach her?”

Most of the girls looked away, finding they already had enough work to keep them busy, but one girl raised her hand. She was tall, with blonde hair slicked into a bun and bright blue eyes. “I can help her.” 

“Ah, Ms. Swann. Perfect. Come over here. This is Ms. Maria Trotter.” 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Trotter. Please, call me Jane.” 

Maria’s journey began with the first of three misfortunes: her father’s unexpected passing after her debut into proper society. This unfortunate event only left her with her governess, and whatever belongings she could carry while everything else was repossessed to settle her father’s outstanding debt. A fact that brought her great shame. 

But like the highbred lady that she was, she took it with grace. She held her faith in her heart and her governess's hand for support, genuinely believing that matters would sort themselves out with time. After all, she believed herself fortunate to still have an estranged uncle generous enough to take them in. She believed their move to the countryside would simply afford them new opportunities. She believed gentlemen could be found everywhere, not just in the city, and that one day she’d find a proper suitor.  

Little did she know a second misfortune was about to befall her. Just before arriving at the gates of Moonacre Manor, they were accosted by four masked bandits, who in a matter of seconds, took all of their luggage except for the carpet bag she had carried with her inside. She wasn’t able to take a good look at them, only that they wore bowler hats, black leather garb, and darkened eyes. 

Though incredibly shaken, and feeling her resolve crack, she managed to restore her optimism at the thought that none of the bandits had managed to open their carriage. No doubt all due to her quick thinking and her handy needle that she used to slash the hand that came through her window. At least she and Ms. Heliotrope were safe and sound. 

But Maria’s silent prayers were to remain unanswered as a third misfortune came upon her. 

“I’m afraid you'll both have to find means of financing your purchases,” Her uncle, Sir Benjamin, told them during supper that night. “Unfortunately, our coffers have run dry trying to replace all that the De Noirs have stolen from us.” 

“The De Noirs?”

“Yes, I believe those were the very bandits that robbed you and your governess. Unfortunately, there is nothing to be done. Moonacre is too small and unimportant for London to care about. And Lord knows our own magistrate can barely keep order. All I can offer you is shelter and food.” 

“But I don't know how to work! I've never worked a day in my life, and I need clothes!” 

“The laundry is always in search of workers. I’m sure they’ll readily teach you, their ways. However, for your safety, you mustn’t tell anyone you're a Merryweather. With their propensity, the De Noirs are bound to kidnap you too. Present yourself as a Miller or Trotter. Those are fairly common around here.” 

And that is how she found herself the very next day, clutching a meager shilling between cracked and bleeding palms, sobbing with all her heart, outside the gates of Silverydew after her first day of work.  

Maria knew no one was meant to know her true identity. The laundry gossip informed her plenty of how dangerous the De Noirs could be, especially their leader whom they simply referred to as the king of thieves, but when Jane found her crying and handed her a freshly baked roll of bread and a small tin of salve for her hands, Maria couldn’t help herself. 

She had tried so hard to remain strong and keep up with the rest of the ladies, but it was impossible. She was weak and her entire body was in pain. She was exhausted. She was hungry. She had never felt as low as she did then. 

She tried, she really did try to maintain her resolve, but when Jane wrapped an arm around her shoulders, Maria broke and released all that she had bottled in her heart. She confessed what had transpired in her life to have driven her to such a wretched state. 

..oOo.. 

“How are you doing?” Jane asked as she came to join her at the wash bin. 

Maria was finishing her third day in the laundry house. She had learned much, but still struggled against the feelings of incompetence, the aches of her body, and her wounded pride. She sighed, “I believe I am managing. Though my arms are still threatening to desert me.” 

“It's all a con, don’t fall for it,” Jane giggled. “Do you think you could help me load this onto the carriage? The magistrate seems to be in a bit of a rush and the other girls are busy.”

“Yes, of course!” 

At the count of three, the two heaved the trunk of freshly laundered garments and carried it out into the gravel road where the carriage awaited. 

Maria glowered at the coachman who was fully aware of their efforts but refused to come down from his seat and help them. 

As they lifted the trunk to load it onto the carriage’s rack, Maria’s grip slipped, and a burr in the iron handle tore open a newly healed crack in her palm. She yelped as the trunk came crashing down. Fortunately, none of the contents spilled. 

“Careful there!” The coachman yelled, but he received no response aside from Jane’s furious glare that shut him right up.

“Goodness! Are you ok?” Jane asked, rushing to her side. 

“Yes,” Maria mumbled, wishing to hide from humiliation. She dropped her head as Jane proceeded to use her handkerchief as a wrap for her palm. “I'm so sorry. I’ll return this to you as soon as I can wash it.” 

“It happens to the best of us. Don't fret. Once, the garments I was carrying fell onto the floor and I had to wash them all over again!” 

Maria smiled sheepishly but her mind was distracted by a dash of white paint only visible on a small portion of the flat steel tyre on one of the carriage’s back wheels. “Why would someone paint their wheel?”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked, peering over Maria’s shoulder. “Strange. I don't think I’ve noticed that before. Who knows. Come now, let's get on with this.”

After that, Maria began to notice certain carriages had that same mark. She spotted it on the magistrate's carriages, on the constable’s, and on some of the farmers.

..oOo.. 

“Are you ready to leave?” Jane asked Maria, who was busy hanging someone’s night clothes to dry. They had grown quite close over the days. Jane was trustworthy, clever, and readily lent an ear without any judgment, unlike the rest of the laundry maids. The majority of them still believed her to be a runaway bride and kept a guarded distance. As though her very presence would tarnish their reputation. The only benefit to their company was the gossip. Oh, how they loved to gossip! That is how she came to learn her uncle was once engaged to a Lady Loveday De Noir. He hadn't known of her identity at the time of engagement, but he broke it off when discovered the truth, believing she was there to steal from him. 

“Don’t wait for me today,” Maria replied as she picked up another nightgown. “I need to stop by the apothecary. I've finished my salve.” 

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Maria wasn’t eager to return home. Though she had grown fond of Wrolf, Sir Benjamin’s giant Irish wolfhound, and her pony Periwinkle, an unexpected gift from her uncle, Sir Benjamin’s never ending dour mood was a constant reminder that things just weren't right. 

But she also didn't want to return too late. The few times that she had, she had arrived to the sound of melancholic piano music and her uncle’s sobs, no doubt over his failed engagement. She was fortunate her room in one of the manor’s towers was too far to hear her uncle’s cries, though she could not help but feel pity for Ms. Heliotrope whose room was on the first floor. 

At the end of her workday, she always faced the same predicament: either she returned early in the day to find him storming about the manor and cursing the De Noirs, or late in the evening to find him sobbing by the piano and wailing for Loveday. There was no neutral ground with that man, it's no wonder his engagement failed. 

As she walked to the apothecary, Maria took a moment to appreciate the town of Silverydew. It was a quaint little town, and despite their hardships and occasional dealings with theft, the people were hardy, kind, and hopeful. Children ran about the square playing games with hoops and sticks. Mothers formed groups and shared recipes or the latest news. Men huddled around the tavern, commenting on the weather and their crops or businesses. Young ladies walked around the square, arm-in-arm, giggling over the young men who watched from a distance. Yes, Silverydew was certainly a better ambiance than the desolate and rundown manor that barely stood on its foundations, especially now that the town was preparing for the Harvest Festival. 

Perhaps if her circumstances were different, she too would be as excited as the townspeople. She had an inkling her uncle would not even consider attending, much less allow her to attend unchaperoned. Though perhaps she could convince Ms. Heliotrope–that is if she wasn't too tired from tutoring the magistrate’s children or staying up late from her uncle’s incessant mourning over his life. 

Maria sighed wistfully, wishing she could do something to help her uncle and brighten his mood. She wished to restore herself and the manor to its rightful state. However, she had yet to learn what caused the great feud between the Merryweathers and the De Noirs. It seemed no one knew, or at least would not openly talk about it. 

“Oh!” Maria cried as her face came crashing against someone’s back. She was so lost in her thoughts she failed to notice the person in front of her. She would’ve fallen to the ground were it not for the strong arms of said person. “Oh, excuse me!” she yelped, disentangling herself from his arms. “I didn’t–”

Maria froze under his gaze. Dark eyes were alight with mischief as the ghost of a smile broke into a dashing grin.  “I-I’m sorry,” she finished with a bright blush as she straightened herself and took a step back.  

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” He adjusted his coat then stuffed his right hand into his pocket and with his left, awkwardly brushed his hair back. A fruitless effort as his curls bounced right back into place and casted a sultry shadow across his handsome face.

“Oh, I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I don’t make it a habit to stay out very long.” 

“Reckon you’re not missing much then. Silverydew isn't known for its nightlife,” he teased. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Trotter!” Maria chirped. “It's Maria Trotter. And your name?”

“Robin.” 

Maria didn’t miss the fact that he failed to offer her his hand which showed no sign of leaving his pocket, but she decided he had his reasons and she had more urgent matters to attend to. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm on my way to the apothecary before it closes for the night.” 

“What a coincidence, I am too. Allow me to join you.” 

It was not a long walk, but it allowed Maria to ask her own set of questions, “I haven’t seen you around either. Do you live outside of Silverydew?”

“Yes, I live on the outskirts of the valley. I don't make it a habit of coming into town quite often.” 

“Why is that?” Maria asked. 

Robin held open the apothecary door and gestured for her to walk in first. Then he leaned over her shoulder and whispered. “As you may have learned, these townspeople busy themselves by sticking their noses in other people’s business.” 

“You must forgive them, for what else are they to do,” Maria stiffed her giggle but continued, “There’s only so much to say about the day-to-day life here.”

Robin grinned crookedly. “Reckon I can come up with a few ideas,” he said in such a way that sent her heart racing. 

“-How can I help you?” The pharmacist asked, stepping up to the counter and startling Maria, prompting her to take a step away from Robin. 

Maria cleared her throat and tried to steady her thoughts as she said. “I’m here to purchase some salve.”

“That’ll be five shillings.”

“But…last week it was three.”

“I’m sorry dear. As summer wanes, the herbs become rare, and the price goes up.” 

Maria’s heart sank and she solemnly reached for her purse, pulling out all that she had: three shillings. A wave of embarrassment washed over her. “I'll come back tomorrow then,” she muttered. 

“Now, hang on. Keep your shillings,” Robin said.  “Charge it to my account–”

“--I can’t possibly–”

“Ms. Trotter, it's fine. If it makes you feel any better, simply pay me back whenever you can.” Then turning to the shopkeeper he said, “I’ll also need three needles, a roll of surgical silk, gauze, and antiseptic.” 

It was then Maria noticed he had taken out his right hand from his pocket. It was bandaged and blood had seeped through the fabric. “Goodness, are you ok?”

“Yes,” Robin reassured. “It's a common occurrence in my line of work.” 

Maria was appalled. Granted she didn’t know much about jobs in general, but she wondered what type of work could lead to such nasty wounds. “Well then as gratitude, please allow me to stitch you up.” 

Robin did not protest when after their purchases, Maria took him by the arm, led him outside to the nearest bench, and then motioned for him to sit. He watched with rapt attention as she expertly unwrapped his hand and wiped it clean with her own handkerchief and the antiseptic. “Goodness! When did you get this? It looks feverish!” 

Robin scratched his head as he sheepishly laughed, “It was a few days ago. My mate tried to stitch me up, but clearly, he failed spectacularly. The stitches tore today on a new job.” 

Maria tutted with a shake of her head but made no further comment as she readied the suture. Unfortunately, the silk was unruly with her gloves, and she was forced to unsheathe her hands, praying he wouldn't notice their state. Then she quickly stitched the gash across the back of his hand. She was so dexterous he hardly felt the sting of pain he was normally accustomed to. 

“Incredible,” he murmured, admiring her handiwork. “That’s quite a talent you have there. I may be needing more of your services.” 

“I’ll give my regards to my governess. After all, she's the one who taught me French Needlepoint,” Maria teased. Then she hurriedly reached for her gloves but froze when his hand gently encased hers. Her breathing hitched when he raised the back of her hand to his lips, his eyes gazing into hers. Her heart skipped a beat when he placed a soft kiss upon her bare and scabbed knuckles. 

“Thank you,” he breathed into her skin before releasing her hold. 

“Y-you’re welcome,” Maria barely managed to say. She nervously slipped her gloves back on, gathered her belongings, and stood to leave. “Have a good day Mr. Robin. And thank you for the salve.” 

She hurried out of Silverydew with a fluttering heart, entirely unaware of how intensely he studied her retreat.

Maria’s mind was occupied with thoughts of Robin her entire way home. Even the melancholic piano music that could already be heard outside the manor gates could not dampen her mood, but she wasn’t quite ready to go inside just yet. Instead, she headed to the stable to brush Periwinkle. It had quickly become her favorite pastime when she needed a place to settle her mind or heart. 

She searched all over the stables looking for her brush, but it was missing. “Digweed!” She called out. “Where is Periwinkle’s brush?” 

“It’ll be in the carriage house, apologies miss!” Digweed shouted from the garden. 

“Ahh, there you are!” Maria spotted the brush on the floor near the carriage wheel. She bent over to pick it up, then her heart dropped, the wheel also had a white streak. This development was enough to wipe her mind clear of Robin and send her into a sleepless night. 

The very next day, Maria approached Jane and asked her. “Is there a pattern to the De Noir’s robberies?”

“I’m not sure honestly. At times it does seem certain people are robbed more often, but I’ve never looked into it.” 

“Has the magistrate been a victim?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” 

“What about the farmer Mr. Smith?” She listed another who had a white streak on their carriage wheel.

“Yes, all the time. The poor man has lost much on his harvests.” 

“And Mr. Johnson?” Their carriages hadn’t had the white streak. 

“Now that you mention it, no. He’s one of the fortunate few who hasn't been robbed.” 

The next two days, Maria took her journal to work, and in her free time, cataloged all the carriages with the white streak. She concluded those that were painted, were the targets for robberies. 

This perplexed Maria. If her observations were correct, the De Noirs were purposefully targeting certain people. It was not random at all. This caused Maria to feel a wave of indignation. This would mean their robberies were no longer an act of survival, but of intentional harm. How dare they! 

She just knew she had to put a stop to this. That same evening, she went to the hardware shop and bought a pint of white paint and a paintbrush with all of her earnings. Then she waited. 

She waited at the outskirts of the woods until the sun had set and a crescent moon was high in the sky, and then she got to work. She went around every carriage and cart she could access and discretely marked a back wheel with the paint. 

She finished late into the night, exhausted, but proud of herself. She happily walked home and hid her paint in Periwinkle’s stall, before heading off to bed. 

It was a few days later that she was rewarded with the fruits of her labor. Rumors were circulating about, wondering if the De Noirs were beginning to soften their ways. A few times, carriages that had been stopped were released without a single item taken. That was all the confirmation Maria needed to know that the De Noirs were not acting randomly. There was a method behind their madness. They were targeting specific people, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

“You’re in a bright mood today,” Jane remarked. 

“Yes,” Maria said, scrubbing a stubborn stain on a coachman’s coat. “Yes, I believe I finally know what I am meant to do.” 

“Is that so?”

“Yes, but I can’t tell you just yet.”

…oOo… 

Robin wasn't one to visit Silveryday without reason. Due to its close association with the Merrwweathers, he could only ever go under disguise, and it was a massive inconvenience. 

But someone was thwarting his revenge. Which left him no choice. So, for the second time that week, he headed to Silverydew and straight to the hardware shop.

“Hello!” Robin called towards the back room. He didn't have to wait too long before a large burly and bearded man came out. 

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I need to know who’s purchased white paint in the last week or so.”

The shopkeeper was confused but told Robin all that he knew. Which unfortunately for him, wasn’t much. A customer's name wasn’t recorded unless the item was paid for in the form of credit. As a result, all he learned was that the shop had sold 10 cans of white paint, only three of which could be identifiable. 

“Thank you for your time,” Robin tossed him a coin. “I have a request though, keep note of who buys red paint.”

The only merit to visiting Silverydew was the possibility of running into the new laundry maid in town, and as luck would have it, he spotted her leaving the wash house with another maid. He frowned when he noticed that once again, she was wearing a very old dress. At one point it must have been a dark blue color, but it was now washed out to a greyish color. 

The long day had loosened her bun, and from beneath her old bonnet, curls bounced freely behind her. He watched her dry her hands on her apron, then slip on some silk gloves. 

Though she quickly learned the names of the townspeople, readily greeted them with a kind smile, and adapted to their customs, it was clear to anyone with a working brain that she was not a commoner. 

She held herself too proudly, behaved with a gracefulness that could only be taught, and spoke with words only seen in books or in sprawling cities like London. 

Even without those observations, she had admitted to having a governess and knowing French needlepoint. 

Robin followed from a distance, wondering who was to blame for the misfortune that forced her to break the softness of her hands with water and lye every day. 

When she finally parted from her friend, he snuck up to walk beside her and said, “Fancy seeing you here. It must be fate.” 

Maria nearly jumped out of her skin, then rolled her eyes in false annoyance. “Or perhaps simply the result of living in a small village.” 

“I take it you’ve lived in bigger, more crowded places?” he asked, adjusting his steps to match her pace.

 “Not a large city, but yes... Bigger than Silverydew,” she said, picking her words carefully. “How is your hand?”

“It's mended quite nicely.”

“Are you here for more sutures,” Maria said as she appraised his body, bringing about a sense of shyness he wasn't accustomed to. 

“Er- n-no,” he managed with an awkward cough. “Fortunately, no injuries today. My work has been slow recently.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Maria frowned, “So if it's not an injury, what brings you here?”

Robin smiled crookedly, “Business. Though, now that I have you here, there is something I’d like to ask. There are some interesting rumors floating about you...”

“Really?” Maria asked with amusement. “Pray tell, what is this information you've gathered.” 

“They say you’re a runaway bride. Some say you’re a witch. Others say you’re a noble who has eloped with a lowly hunter and is living in the forest. Hiding from your royal family with your husband.” 

Maria could not hold her laughter. She laughed like this was the funniest thing she’d heard since arriving at Moonacre. 

“Oh dear,” she managed in between breaths. “Please tell me where my rich family is so I can beg them to take me back! I’m weary of masquerading as a commoner!” 

“So, it’s not true then?” Robin asked. They had long exited Silverydew and were now walking down the gravel road towards the outskirts of the valley. 

“No,” Maria wheezed. “Unfortunately for me, none of that is true.” 

“And the bit about the husband–”

“--Especially the bit about the husband!” Maria cackled. “Oh, do forgive me for my uncouth behavior. I-I just can't help it. Out of all the lies!”

Robin had stopped and watched her with appreciation. “I’m relieved to hear that bit is also untrue.” 

His words sent a jolt through Maria’s body, immediately ending her fit of laughter. “A-And why would that be?”

“Well, as you know. The harvest festival is in a couple of weeks. If you’re unaccounted for, I’d love to be your escort. I heard there’s a circus coming this year. What do you say?”

“A circus! Oh, I’d love to go! But I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you just yet. You see… My guardians are incredibly overbearing, so I doubt they’ll let me go. Can I let you know next time I see you?”

“I’ll keep you to your word,” he said. Then he leaned down near her shoulder and whispered, “And if they say no, I am talented in the art of sneaking about.”

Continue Reading on AO3

@theargopriestess, @maybeamagpie, @hotpotatoburn, @stabat-mater, @bedofthistles

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Annie Cresta Week Day 4: Queen of Crafts

The District Four Hunger Games Training Academy is a buzzkill in many ways, but Annie doesn’t know anyone who does birthdays better. 

Birthdays are a big deal at the Academy because every year is precious. That’s why they do what they do. Volunteers keep the young and vulnerable children safe from the arena, and the responsibility is only given to those who can handle it. 

That’s what she used to think, anyway. A lot has changed since she left the arena.

Even with all the fuss around birthdays, she’s never actually had to give a present to someone. That was done communally back at the Academy, with everyone pitching in. They didn’t exactly have an excess of gifts, but nobody really cared about that. 

Victor’s Village, with more money they could ever need, is a completely different game. 

“We could cook her dinner,” Finnick is saying, lounging on Annie’s couch. He’s just returned from an obviously exhausting trip to the Capitol, but happily agreed to help her out. Maybe he needs the distraction. “Or clean her house.”

“Her house is clean,” Annie reminds him. “And we’re trying to give Mags a birthday present, not poison her.”

Finnick shrugs. “Our cooking would be a gift to this earth.”

Annie stifles a laugh. “I’m trying to be serious here. We never gave presents back at the Academy. I don’t even remember how. And everyone in the Village is rich and definitely has a better idea of what to get Mags than I do.”

“It’s not a competition,” he says. “And I’ve known Mags for ten years and I don’t know what to get her.”

Her eyes flicker downward before landing back on Finnick. “That’s different. You’re…busy.”

“So are you,” he counters. “We’ve all been where you are. We all know how long it takes to even start to get better. Nobody’s judging you, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” says Annie, shifting in her seat. “Coral kind of looks like she’s judging me.”

“She looks like that with everyone,” he replies with an easy shrug. How does he make everything seem so effortless? “So that’s either just what she looks like, or she’s judging everyone. Either way, not your problem.”

Annie’s eyes roam the room the way they still do periodically. She’s mentally scanning for threats, watching the exits, that sort of thing. Nothing comes of it anymore. Except today, her eyes land on her piano, sitting quietly across the room. “Finnick,” she says, and he follows her gaze. 

“Annie,” he echoes dramatically. “Have I ever told you that you’re a genius?”

“You haven’t,” she says, bubbling with excitement. “But feel free to repeat it as much as you want.”

Annie can’t call herself a musical expert, but she has been playing the piano as her victory talent for months now. Eons ago, before she started training at the Academy, her mother would play. Some of it has stuck with her even all these years later. 

She fiddles around with the keys for a while, finding a melody she likes. It can’t be too complicated, but hopefully Mags will appreciate the thought. 

“You write poetry, right?” she asks Finnick. At his nod, she says, “Okay, so I write the music and you write the lyrics, then we have a birthday song.”

“I’m happy to use my poetry for such a good cause.”

Writing a song is easier said than done, but it’s a good thing they’re victors with endless time on their hands. Annie nudges Finnick awake when he slumps over the piano keys, and Finnick pulls her out of whatever spiral of self-doubt she’s worked herself into. Who is she to think she can write a song, anyway? 

Then again, she did survive the Hunger Games, and this is certainly an easier thing to do. 

They go slowly, line by line, until they’ve created a song that’s about one minute in duration. “Do you think Mags will like it?” Annie asks once they’ve finished. “You know her better than I do.”

His responding smile is tired but elated. “I think Mags will be impressed that we managed to pull this off.”

“We could invite her over for dinner to show her the song,” she suggests. 

Finnick gives a hum of agreement. “Wait, Annie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can either of us actually sing?”

She looks at him then, and it’s clear they’re both coming to the same realization. The hour is so late that she’s too tired to do anything but dissolve into laughter. “Shit.”

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

I hope this doesn't come across as an inappropriate question, but if Spider in Cabin experienced physical abuse and being SA'd by foster family and that would cause him to serious panic when he is physically touched and even more when would get tied to a bed as is the case in the story, would Quaritch have done it anyway? Or would he have changed his approach and limited physical touch at least at first? Again, I hope this question doesn't sound weird!

I don’t find it weird so no worries. I will put a warning on this for anyone who doesn’t want to read about these topics though. So content warning for mentions of S.A and abuse. There’s nothing graphic here, just discussions of the aftermath of trauma but still warnings all around.

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So speaking from my own experience here, s.a changes you forever. You can absolutely heal from it. That’s why I have no issue talking about it. But your perspective on relationships will never ever be the same again

Spider would push down the trauma. He’d do it so well that it almost doesn’t affect him. Until something triggers him of course. He naturally has his defensives up. It’s like there’s a wall between him and everyone else so he never runs the risk of being touched or even getting emotionally close to others. It’s seeing other kids interact with their parents/guardians that really messes with him. Seeing all those hair ruffles, pats on the backs and hugs so innocently given out. Those kids naïve, trusting faces. Something he can never know again.

Quaritch is keeping close eyes on his son and so he feels immense guilt that the one time he took his attention away the worst thing happened to his boy. He had sent in an anonymous report to the police saying that he himself had been spotted in the area so Spider could immediately be moved. What he wanted to do was report the sicko who dared to touch his son but he knew a real conviction would be slim and it would only re traumatize Spider in the process. So he takes matters into his own hands. He’s not about to beat the person within an inch of his life like he did to his wife’s killer. He learned that lesson already. Instead he picks the lock on their car while they’re stopped at a gas station before work and poisons their lunch. By one in the afternoon they’re being hospitalized. By that evening they’ve died a horrifically painful death.

I also imagine that after this Quaritch would be speeding up his plans to take back Spider so he can keep him safe. He’d have is entire team up on the mountain to finish the cabin as quickly as possible. So maybe Spider is more in the 13-14 year old range instead of 15 like at the start of Cabin. And instead of a big dramatic kidnapping Quaritch sneaks into Spider’s current residence while he’s asleep, gives him a drug to make him stay asleep, then just carries him out.

Now I’ve said in the past that I actually regretted writing about Quaritch tying Spider to his bed at the start of Cabin. I knew it was fucked up but after getting way more fucked up questions that do actually make me uncomfortable I reassessed how far I had taken things in Cabin and it made me think that I had made things too messed up, since I was attracting questions about some really gross kink stuff.

I think my re write and expansion of my original one shot did help to at least create a richer story that I am proud of. But if I could go back to before my original one shot was posted I would change it so that Quaritch just locked Spider in his room at night and kept the front doors locked during the day. 

But he wouldn’t even do that here. Quaritch would just lock up everything that could be used as a weapon. Other than that Quaritch doesn’t want his son to feel trapped so he has free rein of the house.

Spider is of course freaked out when he wakes up. Quaritch keeps his distance trying to calm him down with just his words and tone of voice. Then Quaritch lays everything on the table. “I know what happened.”

Spider dies inside, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play that game. I know what happened. And I am so sorry for that son. I should have fought harder for you. I should have taken you back sooner.” He’s so sincere and is looking at Spider with such pity but also genuine love. It twists Spider’s stomach. “I want you to know I killed them,” Spider looks at him shocked, “that’s right. I killed them. For daring to lay a hand on my boy. And then I built you this house to keep you safe. So you’ll never be hurt again.”

Spider feels like he might puke. He feels like he might cry either from the fear, relief or from the way his heart seems to be breaking. But he refuses to let any of these emotions out. Instead he curls into a ball, rocking slightly in place. “You kidnapped me. And you’ve got me all alone. How do I know you won’t….”

“I would never, ever do that to you.” Quaritch softly pleads to him, “I understand that those are just words though. Just give me a chance to show you. After that if you still don’t trust me I’ll take you back myself.”

Spider thinks about it. He never lived with the Sully’s in this au so he hasn’t had a home where he felt safe or loved. The thought of having a stable home is nice but what really gets him to say yes is the fact that his dad killed his abuser.

So Spider isn’t running. That invisible wall feels more like a fortress as he goes about his day to day with his dad. If it wasn’t for that barrier it would all be nice. Normal. His dad respects his boundaries and never pushes for more. Very very slowly his walls start to thin.

He’s been there for months without making any progress in his relationship with his dad but he is cautiously comfortable. And then he gets sick. He can’t move without getting lightheaded, he’s so lethargic and he can barely keep food down. Still he’s determined to take care of himself. He does his best to hide his illness but his dad clocks him in seconds. “Get back in bed,” Quaritch says, “I’ll take care of you.”

Spider’s anxiety spikes, “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“But you don’t have to. Now go to bed. I’ll bring you some medicine.”

Spider’s so feverish, miserable and scared that he doesn’t care that he sounds like a whiny little kid when he says, “I don’t want to!”

“Son,” Quaritch is calm but insistent, “you’re really sick. You need bed rest and medicine and you need to let me take care of you.”

“No I don’t!”

His dad sighs, “Junior I want to do right by you. I know you still don’t trust me and being vulnerable is making you afraid. I get that. But you’re sick. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to take care of you. So please get back in bed.”

Spider’s heart is racing. He feels like he can’t breathe. The room is swaying. “No!”

“Son please. Get back in bed or I’m going to have to carry you there.”

“No!” Spider turns to run. His dad picks him up around the waist kicking and screaming. When he lays him in bed Spider bursts into tears. “Don’t! Please don’t! Help! Someone help me!” Quaritch gets teary eyed. He smooths Spider’s hair out of his face gently shushing him. Spider bucks the touch. “Stop! Dad please stop. Please stop….”

His sobs become too strong from him to speak. Quaritch holds him through it all. When Spider cries himself out Quaritch dries his eyes and wipes his face then makes sure Spider is comfortable. While his dad goes to get him some water and medicine, Spider sits there feeling hollowed out in that good post break down kind of way. His dad could have hurt him but he didn’t. Instead he pet his hair, rubbed his back and held him in that innocent way he’s seen from so many other parents. And it was nice. It made him feel safe.

When his dad re enters the room he smiles at him, soft and loving. He hands Spider a glass of water, tucks his hair behind his ear then pulls up a chair to his bedside. “You gonna be okay tiger?”

Spider nods, “yeah dad. I think I’m going to be okay.”

[perfectlyvalid49]

So, I got to have a “fun” experience yesterday.

My son is in first grade, and on Sunday mornings he has Sunday school from 9:30-11:30. Our synagogue actually has a lot of kids programming on Sunday mornings – the aforementioned school for kindergarteners and 1st graders, a music hour for younger kids, sometimes parties if there’s a nearby holiday. The Channukah party was two weeks ago, and yesterday they were actually going to be holding a parents’ forum to get feedback on what we want in a new clergy member because we’re looking to hire.

So at 9:25, my whole family is getting out of the car, meeting up with some of the other parents and chatting. My daughter runs ahead – she’s only four, but she’s trying to get into the school to see if she can talk the teachers into letter her come to class. She thinks it’s neat that there’s a second alphabet for her to learn and doesn’t want to wait until next year. My son and one of his friends run after her, so my husband runs after them so that the kids are supervised while I stay behind to help some friends unload their 1 year old and associated gear (stroller, diaper bag, etc.) from their car.

Everybody is laughing and having a good time, but as we start walking toward the door, we see that my husband is hustling the kids back to the cars. I ask him what’s up and he says that everything is canceled for the day and we should leave. Our friends ask why, and once he’s sure the kids aren’t paying attention, he tells us that there’s been a threat, and while they don’t think anything will actually happen, they’re playing it safe and cancelling all activities for the day. He didn’t have any more details than that.

We quickly made plans and wound up hosting an impromptu play date at our house, and the kids seemed mostly fine with it, though they did ask several times why school was cancelled, because it seemed weird. We distracted them with legos and some painting kits.

And everything wound up being fine. I have not heard any news, so I don’t think anything actually happened, but I agree that acting with an abundance of caution was the correct call. And obviously, nothing happening is better than something happening, but not having the threat in the first place would be best of all. I’m still trying to process it. Part of me is like, if whoever it is picked a Sunday instead of Saturday, then they can’t be very bright, as there are a lot more people present on Saturday. But part of me wonders if they picked Sunday instead because they were deliberately targeting young families/children. And that makes me worry too, because there’s a preschool/daycare in the building.

I still haven’t given my kids a good explanation for why school was cancelled yesterday. We told them that the teachers just decided that it wasn’t a good day for class, but I don’t think it answered all their questions. I’m hoping that they forget about it, because I don’t really know what else to tell them. I’ve said before that I want to protect them from the fact that some people want to hurt them just because they’re Jewish for at least a while longer. I don’t think they’re ready. I know I’m not ready.

I’m not worried about going back to my synagogue. I think their policies and procedures are sound, and they have a longstanding good relationship with local law enforcement. Since the beginning of October, they’ve increased security in a bunch of ways, and while I hate that it seems necessary, stuff like yesterday makes it feel like a good idea.

I dunno. To relate this to some of the larger conversations happening right now, I think that this is a prime example of antisemitism that is felt by Jewish communities, and invisible outside of them. Like, in the end, nothing wound up happening except a bunch of families getting hustled out of a building. It won’t be reported on, and most people will never know that anything happened. But “nothing” is still me having to figure out what to tell my kids, and plans getting cancelled, and people worrying for their safety. Due to the staggered start times of events, I’m sure our director of family engagement was there for at least 2 hours telling other people to go home, and I can’t even imagine how she must have felt telling people, “Go home, it’s not safe here,” while she stayed. Psychological attacks are still attacks. Even if you don’t hear about them, it doesn’t mean they’re not happening. When Jews tell you that antisemitism is an issue, please believe us.

[greatpestilenz]

Kleptomaniac - AU!Karma Akabane x Reader

  You're on the run again, the thrill of the chase coursing through your veins. You've always been one step ahead of the authorities, your nimble fingers slipping into pockets and grabbing valuables without a trace. But this time, things are different. You've attracted too much attention, and they're closing in on you.

  Your heart pounds in your chest as you dash through the crowded city streets, weaving in and out of the bustling crowd. Panic gnaws at the edges of your mind, but you refuse to let it consume you. You need a place to hide, somewhere they would least expect to find you.

  In a moment of desperation, you remember a name that's been circulating among the underworld. Karma Akabane, a mastermind in his own right, known for his ability to outwit even the most skilled investigators. Rumors of his connections to the criminal world have always intrigued you, but you never thought you'd actually need his help.

  With a newfound determination, you make your way to the designated meeting spot, an inconspicuous café tucked away in a secluded corner of the city. You enter cautiously, your eyes scanning the room for any signs of Karma. And then, you spot him.

  He's sitting at a table near the window, sipping on a cup of coffee as if he hasn't a care in the world. His unruly red hair stands out amongst the sea of ordinary faces, and his mischievous smirk tells you he knows exactly why you're here.

  As you approach the table, Karma looks up and locks eyes with you. There's a flicker of recognition in his gaze, a spark of amusement dancing within them. He gestures for you to take a seat, and you do, your heart pounding in your chest.

  "Karma Akabane," you begin, your voice betraying a hint of nerves. "I've heard you're the person to come to when you need help getting out of a tight spot."

  He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Well, well, if it isn't the infamous Main Charater. I must say, you've caused quite a stir lately. The authorities are desperate to catch you."

  You smirk, unable to resist the rush of adrenaline that courses through your veins. "They've been trying for years, but they can never quite catch me."

  Karma's eyes glint with amusement. "So, what brings you to me? Need a place to lay low?"

  You nod, your eyes scanning the room to ensure no one is watching or listening. "I'm running out of options, and I've heard you're the best at disappearing when you need to."

  He leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have a safe house, a place where no one would think to look. But nothing comes for free, Mc."

  You meet his gaze, knowing exactly what he's implying. "I'm well aware of the price that comes with your help. But I've never been one to back down from a challenge."

  Karma's smirk widens, and he extends a hand towards you. "Then we have a deal. Consider yourself hidden from the world. Just don't get too comfortable; the thrill of the chase always comes back."

  As you clasp his hand in yours, a rush of excitement and uncertainty washes over you. You've made a pact with the devil, but for now, he's your only hope.

  As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you found yourself growing closer to Karma. The initial alliance forged in secrecy had developed into a friendship that defied the boundaries of your respective roles in the criminal underworld. Karma's sharp wit and mischievous charm had managed to break through the walls you had built around yourself, and slowly but surely, you began to let him in.

  Late one evening, as the two of you sat in the dimly lit safe house, Karma's eyes lingered on you, filled with a warmth and fondness that hadn't been there before. The air crackled with anticipation as he gathered his thoughts, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare moment of vulnerability.

  "Mc," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I never expected this alliance to turn into something more. But somewhere along the way, my feelings for you became undeniable."

  Your breath caught in your throat, your own heart racing in response to his confession. You had felt a growing attraction towards Karma, but the fear of attachment had held you back. Yet, as you looked into his eyes, you realized that perhaps love was worth the risk.

  He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "Mc, you're different from anyone I've ever met. Your daring spirit, your intelligence, your... everything. I've fallen for you, head over heels."

  A mix of emotions flooded your heart: surprise, joy, and a hint of fear. The stakes were high, and the consequences of love in your world were never simple. But, in that moment, the decision became clear.

  With a steady voice, you reached out and took Karma's hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. "Karma, I can't deny that I feel the same way. It scares me, but I'm willing to take the leap with you."

  A dazzling smile spread across Karma's face, relief and affection evident in his eyes. "Mc, you've just made me the happiest person in the world. Together, we can conquer anything that comes our way."

  From that day forward, your lives intertwined in more ways than one. The thrill of your criminal exploits took on a new dimension, driven not only by the adrenaline rush but also by the love and trust you shared. As you fought against the forces that sought to bring you down, Karma became your partner, your confidant, and the person who knew you better than anyone else.

[maxbegone]

happy sunday/i keep forgetting it's actually sunday. my head's a mess, ignore me. are we tagging people now? i'm gonna tag @hrhwrites @iboatedhere @rmd-writes @kiwiana-writes and @lilythesilly

i hope the week treats you well ♥️

So one afternoon, Alex follows Oscar out to the barn to assess the damage in the loft. There’s a decently-sized hole from breakage, about a foot or so up and down, that they’re really going to have to get a jump on if they don’t want it to get worse. But there isn’t anything they can really do about it permanently until the weather clears. His dad mumbles under his breath about supplies as they at least patch it with an old piece of tarp.

“Los Bastardos are gonna have to get some more wood,” he says, hands on his hips as Alex stands on a stepladder affixing the tarp with a hammer. They’ve already moved the bed out of the way and removed the sheets to bring back to the house and let dry.

“You bringin’ shiner?” He grunts, and Oscar cackles.

“If you think I’m letting either you or Luna around shiner with an ax in hand, y’all are sorely mistaken. You two rile each other up enough, I don’t need to run a missing appendage back to the house because of it.”

It was worth a shot at least.

Oscar sighs. “I’ll think about bringing a flask. But I ain’t babysitting.”

“We’ll behave, Dad.” He leans back to assess his work. “How’s that?”

“Eh, I think it’s as good as we’re gonna get right now. Come on down.”

“Gladly.”

The tarp was an honest bitch to work with, what with the wind folding it back and nearly beheading Alex, if that’s at all possible. He’s cold and his hair is wet from the rain that came through, so he happily takes the towel that’s offered to him when he’s back on solid ground.

He points to the roof. “What are the odds that thing is just going to come off?”

“You used the nails right?” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “We can’t control what we can’t control.”

“Since when are you all lax?”

“I’ve always been lax, you little shit,” he says, picking up the tool box. He turns back to Alex. “Your sister started making me meditate with her.”

“Oh my god, you’re kidding,” Alex gawks. “She got you into that, too?”

“All those years in California, never picked it up. Why not now?”

“Still,” Alex says, lifting up the hatch and making his way down the ladder. When he gets about halfway, Oscar passes him the toolbox. “Can’t believe she roped you in.”

“Your sister is persuasive.”

“Persuasive or nagging?”

When Oscar gets to the floor of the barn, he gives Alex a mild look. “Be nice.”

“I am nice. I’m the nicest person ever.”

His dad makes a noise as he heads down the line of stalls to where his horse, Poncio, is sticking his head out. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a treat, Poncio taking it from his open palm. “You think those two are really gonna head up to Niagara?”

Henry and Pez. Right.

Even after the conversation he had with Henry on the porch the other morning, he and Pez are still talking about it. He’s really not sure what to think about it. “They don’t really have anywhere else to go, right?”

“Does anyone?”

That’s true. Alex pushes off the wooden column he’s leaning against to stroke down Poncio’s neck. His coat is silky and black, and he throws his head up and down happily a few times before settling again. Alex chuckles. “I mean, they seem determined.” A beat. “Why?”

He eyes his dad tentatively as he takes a long pause, still focused on the horse. For a second, Alex thinks he didn’t hear him, but then he says, “It sounds like a suicide mission with a castle in the sky at the end.”

“What, you don’t think the Niagara safe haven even exists?”

“No, I believe it exists,” Oscar starts, “I just don’t believe in that whole reconnection thing they’re talking about. As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think there’s much effort from the people running these places. They care about keeping people in and the bad stuff out.”

Alex’s brow furrows. Unfortunately, he does agree a little bit. Mostly because he’s always assumed the safe havens were false hope. Military-run cities with tight curfews and propaganda. Sure, it might grant protection, but it seems like hell, especially from Raf’s stories and the very few they’ve gotten over the years from people they’ve traded with. And these so-called reconnection attempts? Alex just can’t wrap his head around that actually working out fruitfully. 

And yes, they have their own radios here so they can communicate with each other and Zahra and Shaan, and they occasionally pick up on another channel or frequency, but it’s localized. He’s not too sure about something so…worldwide.

“What if it was us?” Alex finds himself asking. “Do you think you’d believe in it more?”

Oscar turns to him with a mournful smile, one hand on Poncio’s muzzle. “I would burn the world down to find you and June again. And I sure as hell wouldn’t need a radio system to help me.”

Alex drops his gaze.

He steps over and places his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “I can only focus on what I have, right? What we have. I’ve got my kids, that’s all I need in the end. My worries start and end with you. So if those two believe that going to Niagara will help them find their families who are oceans away, then we can’t stop them and we can’t break their hope.”

It’s a fair and somber point. Alex nods.

“Look,” Oscar continues, “talk to Raf if you want another opinion.. He wasn’t in Weehawken long, but he was there long enough to know the ins and outs at the time. Or even Zahra; she’s had contacts in the zones since this shit started. Maybe it’ll be enlightening.”

So that’s exactly what Alex does.

[valerings]

Look past the wavering flames, and maybe you’ll find the answers to your questions. Voice lines about Freisha […………]

[Hello] —

“Traveler? It is a pleasure to meet you.. I trust you know who i am? No? Hm.. How sad.. Anyhow, i am Freisha, 8th of the Fatui Harbingers. I am honoured to have finally met you.”

[Chat: The Fatui] —

“You’re asking why i’m the 8th? Ah, well the Harbingers can’t just leave one of the ranks open now can they? This explains why you may not have heard of me yet.”

[Chat: Travels] —

“You should visit Fontaine if you ever have the chance, it truly is beautiful. Even though i’ve lived more than half my life there, it’s beauty never fails to impress me.”

[Chat: Art] —

“I truly do wish i had more time on my hands, i’d love to be able to just sit in my office, maybe do a little sketching, perhaps a painting even?”

[Chat: Cards] —

“I always did love card games when i was younger. Say Traveler, whenever you’re free would you like to join me?”

[When it rains] —

“How i’d wish the rain was there for me that day.. Hm, I guess i shouldn’t be so greedy though.”

[When it snows] —

“I’ve grown used to the cold, living in Snezhnaya, this is nothing.”

[Good Morning] —

“Up so early? I trust you had a good sleep last night? Good. Well then, we mustn’t waste too much time now.”

[Good Afternoon] —

“Lovely weather isn’t it? I hope it doesn’t take a turn for the worse.”

[Good Night] —

“You’ve had a long day Traveler, get a good nights sleep. You deserve it.”

[About Freisha] —

“I wonder what would’ve happened to me if i hadn’t gotten my vision during that fire. Hm, i’d properly be dead by now even if i still got it without The Doctors help..”

[About us: Friends] —

“Now now, just because i’m one of the Harbingers doesn’t mean i’ll cause you harm. It’s understandable for you to feel that way of course but, no harm should come to you by my hand. As long as you don’t get in my or Her Majesty’s way of course.”

[About the Vision] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“My vision saved my life, the very element that was about to end my life, Pyro. I was about to be consumed by the flames, then it was right in front of me, clearing a path for me out of the house safely, i’ll never forget that day.”

[About us: The Nights Sky] — Friendship Level 6 Required.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? Each tiny little speck of white in the sky holds a different story. Much like yours.”

[About us: Blessings] — Friendship Level 6 Required.

“You, Traveler, are able to access all of the elements of the lands you visited so far? Wow, and not even with a vision or a delusion.. I’m impressed. You really might have the blessings of the Celestia.”

[About us: Honesty] — Friendship Level 6 required.

“You’re doubting my honesty towards you? Traveler, i’ve been nothing but honest with you. I won’t deny the fact that someday we will eventually become enemies on the battlefield but if i wanted to, i could’ve ruined your life way before we even met. Please have a tiny bit a faith in me until we meet on opposite sides, Traveler?”

[Something to Share] —

“I’m glad you’re fond of your family, Traveler, can’t say i feel the same way about mine. All you have to know is that one day, i will make them pay for every crime they’ve committed against me.”

[Interesting Things] —

“Traveler! Would you like to join me? I have something i need to take care of, consider it.. a personal matter. I also heard they might have some information that you could really use. How about it?”

[About Tsaritsa] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“Her Majesty? She has a kind soul, i thank her for allowing me to join her forces all those years ago. It seems i really owe my whole life to her..”

[About The Jester] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“Ah him.. He always has that face, all serious and no laughs. He’s an amazing leader don’t get me wrong but would it really kill him to have some fun?”

[About The Doctor] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“Dottore helped me a lot back in the days. Developing my abilities, even making my delusion personally for my skill sets. He may be an odd one with all his clones around his lab, but nonetheless, i am in his debt.”

[About The Captain] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“I’ve never really talked much to him, he really is a mystery. His combat skills are nothing to sneeze at either.”

[About Damselette] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“That girl.. she doesn’t talk much. Her singing is amazing yet, there’s something weird about her that i can’t put my finger on.. Oh well, it isn’t my place to investigate her anyways.”

[About The Knave] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“She’s a formidable training partner. Always one step ahead of everyone.. Although it does get on my nerves sometimes, it’s just a sign of how much harder i need to push myself.”

[About The Regrator] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“I can never seem to wrap my head around his theories no matter how many times he tries to explain them to me, he’s a nice guy don’t get me wrong but his passion in mora is slightly concerning.”

[About the Rooster] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“I don’t have much to comment on him but, when i was younger he did try his best to make me feel welcomed. Being young and afraid in the Palace is a no good attitude for a future harbinger after all.”

[About The Marionette] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“I’ve always wanted to ask why she has that machine just follow her around all day but never had the courage to. She’s always researching so even if i really wanted to, i barely see her anyways so what’s the point?”

[About Tartaglia] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“Tartaglia? I’d say he’s the nicest one out of all the Harbingers. Amazing training partner since he’ll never decline an invitation to train a little. He’s helped me improve so many things about myself. He truly is a good man.”

[About The Fair Lady] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“Ah, Signora.. She was the one assigned to assist me in using my vision properly since she too had a Pyro vision. I’ll never forget what she had done for me in the past. ”

[About The Balladeer] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“Even before he left with the Electro Gnosis, i never was close to him. His attitude always put me off, so i stayed far away from him. What’s more annoying is that now since he ran away, us Harbingers are tasked to go retrieve it. How tiresome..”

[More About Freisha: I] —

“I always did love the sound of crackling fire, it’s calming. i guess that’s why i didn’t panic much back then when it happened.”

[More About Freisha: II] — Friendship Level 3 Required.

“I sometimes think about if i refused Her Majesty’s offer to join the Harbingers. I wouldn’t have to go through Dottore’s experiments that’s for sure.. Oh well, there’s no point thinking of the past, what’s been done has been done.”

[More About Freisha: III] — Friendship Level 4 Required.

“It’s sad how basically the only people i’ve known my entire life except my.. family, are the Harbingers. Could never make friends before so add that with the amount of work being a Harbinger requires, there was no possible way for me to make a friend outside the Palace walls. Thank you Traveler, for staying with me even for a while.”

[More About Freisha: IV] — Friendship Level 5 Required.

“If you’d like, i could take you to Fontaine, i heard that that’s where you’re next stop is, correct? I’d love to show you the city and maybe even a little of my childhood, as short as it was. I’m sure you’ll like it there. Plus, i do have some unfinished business i need to take care off.”

[More About Freisha: V] — Friendship Level 6 Required.

“I do hope that when i return to Snezhnaya and i eventually see you again, you and me won’t be directly opposing each other. I’d hate for something like that to ruin our relationship, after all you do make quite good company.”

[Freisha’s Hobbies] —

“Me? Hm.. I don’t have much time to myself so i suppose i don’t have many hobbies. You’ll have to show me some when i have the time, doing anything in your presence doesn’t seem half bad after all.”

[Freisha’s Troubles] —

“There’s not much that can get under my skin, sure i may get frustrated at how much paper work i may have been given that day but in the end, it doesn’t bother me that much.”

[Favourite Food] —

“There was this bakery in Fontaine near where my house was, there would always be these delicious fresh pastries being sold daily. Ahh how do i miss my homeland..”

[Least Favourite Food] —

“I guess saying it as an adult now sounds silly but i was never a fan of vegetables.”

[Receiving A Gift: I] —

“Well this is a pleasant surprise. I will cherish it Traveler.”

[Receiving A Gift: II] —

“I appreciate you spending this much time for me, i really do.”

[Receiving A Gift: III] —

“Oh? You made me this? If i didn’t know any better i’d say you were aiming for my heart this time.. Nonetheless less, thank you for this Traveler.”

[Birthday] —

“Word on the street is that it’s your birthday today Traveler. I hope you have an amazing day. If you need anything, you know where to find me. Happy Birthday my friend.”

[Feelings About Ascension: Intro] — Ascension Phase 1

“Traveler! Could you help me with something? I’d like to try something out..”

[Feelings About Ascension: Building’s Up] —Ascension Phase 2

“There’s still so much more i could improve on, but i think for now this should be sufficient.”

[Feelings About Ascension: Climax] —Ascension Phase 4

“Why don’t i take you out to somewhere nice Traveler? After all you’ve been helping me a lot recently. I thank you for that.”

[Feelings About Ascension: Conclusion] — Ascension Phase 6

“Say, how about a little one on one? I’m sure you’ve gotten way stronger since the last time i saw you. I could say the same thing about myself, Traveler.”

COMBAT —

[Elemental Skill] —

“Mark my words!”

“Not so fast!”

“Your attempts amuse me.”

“Don’t try to run away now~”

[Elemental Burst] —

“No mercy shall be shown.”

“Don’t even try to escape.”

[Sprint Start] —

“Do we have to..?”

[Deploying Wind Glinder] —

“Be careful, the winds may change at any time.”

[Opening Treasure Chests] —

“Is that all..?”

“If you’re happy, i’m happy Traveler.”

“This is rather, underwhelming..”

[Low Hp] —

“This is nothing.”

“Maybe i should start taking this seriously.”

“Well this is new.”

[Ally at Low Hp] —

“I’ll take it from here.”

“Rookie mistake.”

[Fallen] —

“What went.. wrong..”

“I.. lost..?”

“I’ll be.. back..”

[Light Hit Taken] —

“You just got lucky.”

[Heavy Hit Taken] —

“You’ll pay for that.”

[Joining Party] —

“You need me? How cute.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

authors notes: ahh the long awaited voice lines of my genshin oc Freisha! sorry this took so long i was really lazy and school started so 😭😭 tempted to do a Freisha x reader… hm..

also considering childe or maybe scara for her too but idk.. if that ever happens you can just imagine yourself as Freisha i don’t mind HAHAHA

[onceandfutureoshainspector]

Kenji: You're back, but Kasumi isn't with you? Cat: Mister Nakano. Kasumi isn't coming home. She's staying with the synths up North. Kenji: What? I hired you to find her, to bring her back safely! You left her there?

- i mean, she is a grown ass adult, but i see his point. he’s not ready for his kid to leave.

Cat: I did everything I could to make sure she was safe, Kenji. She'll be fine. Kenji: You're sure? It's just... all this nonsense about her being a synth. She doesn't still think she's one of them, does she? Cat: Does it matter, Kenji? She's staying. She has people there she cares about. Kenji: So Rei was right. Kasumi needed to make her own life. Away from us. I guess I... just didn't want to believe she had grown up. That she was going to leave me. 

- ...oh, motherfuck. there’s a link to Shaun here. how i didn’t want to believe he’d genuinely become the villain, the head of the Institute with no hope of me talking him out of it. i guess that might be the intended lesson here - kids make their own decisions, but they’re not the only ones who have to live with them.

Kenji: There's one last thing you and I need to discuss. Your reward. My daughter might not be coming home, but at least she's safe.

- dude, no. don’t reward me for what i just did. don’t.

Kenji: We don't have much to offer, but my father traveled the Commonwealth. He had quite a collection before he died. I buried it all near the house. I'm not the explorer he was. I don't need them. I think they would be better with you.

- i can't take his reward. between DiMA, Kasumi, those poor unpleasant idiots stuck in the Vault forever... i left the Island cleaner than i found it, but i sure as hell got dirtier in the process. i don't deserve praise for a job half done and messily too.

Cat: You don't need to do that. You keep your father's collection for your family. Kenji: Thank you. Perhaps we'll need it someday. God knows plenty has happened to us already... Now, if you'll excuse me, it's... been a long day.

- you’re telling me.

Rei: I'm glad my daughter has found a place where she can make her future. Thank you for making sure she's safe.

- these guys’ll be fine. and hey, they’ve got their boat back. it’s not like they can’t visit.

Nick: In this line of work, you have to expect the unexpected. Still, I've got to admit, I've never had a case quite like Kasumi's. Cat: Really? Never? Nick: Well, there was that time I got hired by someone who'd been frozen in a Vault for 200 years. That one's been a doozy so far... I wonder how Kasumi is gonna do up in Acadia? That place has some big ideals in a world of cruel realism.

- which is exactly why we’re gonna help them out. the Railroad needs someplace it can send synths for safety, and Acadia needs resources and aid. now that we’ve all found each other, we can stand together and make each other stronger.

Nick: Well, the case is closed. Sometimes that's all you can really say.

- :(

- fast traveled back to Nick's office

Ellie: You're back. How'd everything go with the Nakano case? Cat: I tracked Kenji's daughter to a synth refuge up north near Far Harbor. She's made a life there. She ended up deciding to stay. Ellie: I can relate. I left home pretty young, and look at the low-lifes I've ended up with... Thanks for coming in for this one. I knew something good was happening when you and Nick started working together. Don't be a stranger, gumshoe. Nick: If I didn't know better, I'd say you're giving our friend here all the credit... Ellie: Just keeping you on your toes, Nick.

- and Nick’s not alone either. he’ll be alright. i hope.

[deadendsave]

Barbara Short’s Journal (2023)

1: The mayor personally came by my office and asked me if I wanted to sell my property. He said the park was an eyesore. I laughed in his face. Coming into my office and insulting me, he’s so full of himself. I’ve been running this place for 20 years, and I’m not about to sell it. He tried persuading me by assuring me that the current resident would be given priority access to the apartments that would be built in its place… as if they could afford the rent.

2: I don’t like them Davis boys. Most people try to forget about that family and their mill, but I won’t. I see what the mayors plans are. He’s trying to run all of us out of here. He wants to bring in new residents who are younger and have more money. His brother’s just as bad as him. Last Sunday he tried to tell me I should sell the park to his brother. Pfft. The only reason I still go to his church is because it’s the only one in town.

3: To Do List: call exterminator for Ray / Collect rent from Brielle / Refill prescriptions

4: I went by Ray’s while the pest control man was there. I was disgusted by what I saw. I’m not stupid; I knew what him and his girlfriend had been doing in there, but I didn’t expect him to trash the place as much as they did. No wonder they’ve got infestations. The windows were all foiled up, and mouse droppings were all over the floor. He did a good job hiding all of his stuff, but he left a glass pipe on the counter. I was furious. I gave him a final warning.

5: Brielle’s short on rent again. The girl’s lucky I got a soft spot for her and that baby. I know she’s working hard waitressing, but I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep affording this. It costs a lot of money to run a place like this, I’ve got bill collectors calling.

6: Mayor Davis wants to buy Todd’s bar and Margaret’s bookstore. He’s trying to get rid of all the places that’ve been here for years. That man just doesn’t stop. Millhaven has beautiful historic buildings, I don’t know how his plans to destroy them all even for approved. Half of the town has been demolished for new constructions.

7: When I got home last night, I went to watch ‘The Young and The Restless’ on DVR, but an emergency news broadcast interrupted it. They said there’s a new virus going around, and it’s deadly if your immune system is weak.

8: This isn’t good, LHV isn’t some regular virus. The news didn’t tell us this at first and made it seem less serious. It’s turning people into monsters. I’m going to get some things from the grocery store and pharmacy, then I’m staying at the park so I can make sure everyone is safe. Nobody knows, but I’ve got a handgun in my safe at the office.

9: It just keeps getting worse. Portland and Salem are under full military control. Everyone in Millhaven is hiding in there homes. It’s only a matter of time before LHV hits us.

10: People are out of their minds. I went to the grocery store, and the shelves were empty. Everyone is buying everything up. I got as much as I could for me and the people are the park. I knew Brielle probably hasn’t gotten groceries yet.

11: Brielle’s so worried. She said her dad is coming to pick her up tomorrow. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but she said his house is secluded. I know she’s desperate, because she hates her daddy. I don’t understand how he could not talk to her all this time, but now he suddenly wants to help. He never helped her out before, kicking her out of his house at 17 because she got pregnant. I hope he keeps her safe.

12: That deadbeat never showed up, and now the phone lines are down. I told Brielle to pack up her and Leah's things. I'm taking them to my house, I’ll keep them safe there.

stray note, trailer park office:

I drawed this for you Miss Barbara. That’s you at your offise. - Leah

[longlivelindsay]

Fucking hell. My parents are driving me so goddamn insane. I’ve lived in their home for five years in the prime of my life (32-37) because I’ve dealt with PTSD from an abusive ex-fiancé.

And I won’t lie — I absolutely needed it. I needed their help. And I appreciate them and I will always appreciate them for allowing me to come back and live with them when I was broken and bruised and in a place so bad that I had forgotten how to feel safe in the world anymore. Hell, sometimes I still feel that way.

Every single night, when I woke up screaming, my mom was at my side telling me he was gone and he couldn’t hurt me anymore. When I had flashbacks and my heart rate would reach 180 while I was just sitting down, they would get me my anxiety pills and sit beside me holding my hand to calm me down. They were my safe haven. They are my home. They always have been and they always will be. And I can never thank them enough for what they’ve done.

And I still have PTSD when I step into my house. Because it feels like his home, not mine. He trashed it. Broke the dishwasher, refrigerator, and AC (that has luckily been replaced), gave away all my designer belongings (except for a pair of Manolos, a Louis Vuitton tote I used to move out, and a lucky bag he didn’t know was Chanel… but also gave away my Vera Bradley for some reason?) and filled the house with trash. (I should be clear that he didn’t get rid of ANY of my Lilly Pulitzer clothes, bags, shoes, koozies, desk accessories, books, outdoor deck furniture, indoor kitchenware, or anything else I’m forgetting, because he probably knew I would murder him if I found anything missing. And I have an inventory on my computer. Am I obsessed with Lilly Pulitzer? Well, I have too many outfits to wear for the entirety of spring and summer, so you be the judge.)

And haven’t been able to clean it because I can’t go into that house because it’s not mine. It’s the place he abused me. The kitchen is the place he forced me to make him drinks (or there would be consequences) so he could get drunk, emotionally abuse me, and pass out every single night. The living room is the place he would call me horrible names, throw keys at my face, and pull me by my hair to my bedroom because he wanted the house (which is in my name only) to himself. The bedroom is where he would overpower me if I didn’t give him my benzodiazepines or stimulants and also sexually assault me. The bathroom is where I wouldn’t shower for over a month and would go a while without brushing my teeth for several periods of time so I would smell bad so he wouldn’t sexually assault me.

There are many other things he did that I’m not mentioning — mostly emotional and financial abuse, but also some physical abuse.

So you can understand why I called off my wedding on what was originally supposed to be our wedding date (and had to change because he was in rehab… and the first thing he did when I picked him up was ask me if I could go buy him alcohol) on June 2, 2018, four months after I picked him up from rehab and just left him there while I moved in with my parents. It took two months to get rid of him, but he was finally gone after he turned the air conditioning (which was a year old because he broke the one we bought several months before he moved in doing the same thing) down to 58 degrees Fahrenheit, broke it, then asked my dad to buy a new one. (My dad said “Fuck no. Move out or prepare to get really hot. I’m also going to turn off all of the electricity and the water, while I’m at it.” It took him breaking a third appliance to get him to move.)

So it’s understandable why I celebrate June 2 as my anniversary of Not Being Married. (Five years, baby!) And it’s understandable why I would move into my parents house. (Ugh. Five years, baby. Kill me now.)

I did need it at first, but now we’re all miserable. I’m not happy living here and they’re not happy with me living here. We are truly best friends. We have always been. I’m an only child and they lost babies at birth, so we’ve always understood how important our relationship is. And I really, truly, actually mean it when I say they are my best friends. I mean, I literally tell my mom everything! (There are things my dad just shouldn’t know… he can’t even handle reading my poetry that is even a little sexual!)

We’re all just unhappy with this situation and we drive each other up a wall and there’s lots of yelling sometimes. And we don’t mean for it to get like that and we still love each other when we do, but fucking hell, I just can’t deal with it anymore.

It’s time to get back in my house. I need help cleaning it. My mom said she would. And I got a new comforter set (Lilly Pulitzer!) and will probably paint my bedroom. And I got a new bed. Nothing in my bedroom (which I loved before) will be able to remind me of him.

Time to join the real world again. Time to rejoin the land of grown-ups.

(BTW, I haven’t just been paying mortgage on my house for five years. It’s been paid off since 2010.)