#till the time comes... when i can live without spoiler warnings

[leal-hound]

me and the bad bitch i pulled by having the same trauma

[gladoswantscake]

Burnout - Goro Majima x Reader

Summary: A bad day at work leads to coming home exhausted and irritated, but you end his day on a good note.

Warnings: Some spoilers from Kiwami 2

A/N: From now on I'll be only sharing my works on here and on Ao3 because the Yakuza tags on Wattpad are dead 😔

Available on AO3

He couldn't wait when it was time for him to leave. The loud sounds of metal clinking and saws going off was one thing that gave him a headache, but his some of his subordinates were the biggest factor. Whatever needed to be done today can wait till tomorrow. All he wanted to do now is to get home to unwind.

Majima mopes to the front door of his home. His body slouches up against the door frame as he fishes for his house key in his pocket. He slowly inserts the key and opens the inside of his home. As he steps foot inside, he was welcomed by the intoxicating smell of food being made in the kitchen.

He smiled. He could finally relax.

He was grateful to have you. Not for what you do for him, but how much you look past of what he does for a living. Others would flock to safety due to his crazy demeanor, but you never did. You found him to be intriguing.

Majima removes his shoes and makes his way into the kitchen to find you throwing together dinner. Various ingredients scattered amongst the counter.

He approaches you from behind quietly. His hands find their way around your waist followed by a kiss on your cheek causing you to slightly squirm from the hairs of his goatee tickling you. His weary body pressed against your back watching you cutting up the last bit of vegetables.

"Whatcha' making?"

"It's katsudon. I've been wanting to try it lately. I think you'll like it."

"Anythin' you cook will always taste great." His kisses your shoulder.

You throw the chopped onions into the pan and turn to face him with his hands remaining around your waist. The crevices underneath his eye could tell that it was another stressful day for him.

Your hands reach for his eyepatch carefully removing it from around his head. The eyepatch was the only thing that could hide his flaw from anyone. In fact, you were the only person to see him without it. He was always used to wearing it when being out in public or with his close ones. It was part of his identity. Sometimes without it, it made him self-conscious, but your touch says otherwise.

He watches your gaze soften as you briefly trace your thumb underneath his missing eye. The corners of his mouth twitches upward as you lean into him, pressing your lips against his closed eyelid. Your sweet gesture causes him to melt.

"Another bad day, huh?" Your hand runs through his dark hair.

He replies with a groan. The therapeutic feeling of the nails of your fingertips gently raking his scalp causes him to become slightly drowsy. He rests his chin on your shoulder and closes his eye.

"I'm sorry to hear that it's been stressful."

"It's no longer stressful now that I'm home with my Y/N-chan." He mumbles with a smile.

"You're sweet." You lift his head up from your shoulder and peck him on the lips.

"Go get cleaned up. I'll have dinner ready when you get out."

~~~

Majima's eyes were glued to the TV as he laid in between your legs. The two of you settled in on the sofa watching a movie. His head rested on your chest listening to the soft rhythmic beating of your heart and your fingertips stroking the textured tattoo of his bare back. He soon became lost in his thoughts.

The thought of having to get up the next day for work to leave you in the bed alone once again. It made him depressed.

Majima's breathing became slightly irregular as his emotions changed.

The grip around your waist tightens catches your attention.

"Is something bothering you?"

A nerve struck him. He hardly cried. He hated crying, but your confrontation was stirring sad emotions within him.

"Just work is all, doll. Nothin' for ya to worry about." His voice slightly cracks.

He lied. He always hated to tell you about what goes on at his job knowing what he does is controversial.

"I know it's been more than work. Something's eating you."

Your words of concern allowed more tears to escape from him.

In truth, the stressful workload between the construction and the conflict within the Tojo clan was starting to get to him. To top it all off, he was working with men who hardly had a brain.

God forbid he has to tell you about relying on his critical instincts to diffuse a bomb the other day.

He stayed silent. You were catching on quick and there was no other lie to back him up. He didn't think he could keep his composure any longer when he felt you sitting up.

You help him sit up only to have him lowering his head to hide the stream of tears.

"Goro... You can look at me."

He feels your fingertips brushing underneath his bearded chin to lift his head up.

His cheek was wet, and his eye was red. His face tightens as he tries to hold back his tears to speak.

"I know you hate to talk about what goes on with your job, but you shouldn't keep your issues bottled up."

"I know, baby." He wipes his face. "I just don't want to sound like a burden to you."

He felt your fingers moving the strands of his slightly scruffy hair away from his face then cupping his cheek.

"You're no burden to me."

He knew your words meant sincerity, but the stress was starting to take a toll on him physically and mentally. He was tired and frustrated from the spiraling events. The last thing he would do was to nag your ear off.

"I can't remember the last time you've had a day off."

"Me neither." He sighs. "It's just the construction that's been a lot. A lot more responsibility. Maybe after it's all done then work won't be as stressful as it has been."

"I hope work eases up for you." Then an idea came to you.

"How about you call out in the morning? I understand that you feel like you can't take your eye off of your men, but I know Nishida-san can be trusted to take care of everything. Besides, you need it."

He gave thought your idea. A day off was what he needed. But one day away from work felt like a whole week when working with half-witted men.

"If anything bad happens while you were out, I'm sure you'll whip your men back into tip-top shape."

The joke made Majima titter. "I suppose I can do that."

Another hand reaches for his other cheek bringing his lips to yours. The pace of his heart picked up as he was brought into a feeling of bliss. The feeling of your warm hands traveling away from his cheek down to his bare chest sent tingly sensations throughout his body.

"We'll do something fun tomorrow. Just me and you."

"I'd like that." He smiles.

[secretivemessenger]

long time no see... 🫣

Sugarbaby!BtmZhongli x ProviderTop!MR

Now everybody and they mfing mama know zhongli broke asf 😒..

but the past few days he's been "working" with you he's begun to grow some affection. You specifically told him not to catch feelings and what does he do? catch fucking feelings. Good thing you don't know that...or maybe you do and you're just not saying anything? Maybe you're waiting for a chance to humiliate him? He wouldn't be mad if you did.

he pondered and pondered, going insane from the thought that you might reject him. Anytime he'd see you walking the streets of Liyue he'd immediately walk the other direction, just hoping you didn't see him. Too bad the feeling of desperation eventually came up to him and he was left touch starved, so he thought of the most reasonble solution.

pathetically ask for Mora because he totally did not spend it all on random shit so he could have his sweet moments with you.

TWS!

Spanking, Impact play, humiliation, begging, deep throat, gagging, ect.

I have a feeling a fangic like this had already been made but I much prefer to see you write it

Failed Contract

Bottom zhongli x top male reader

Rating: NSFW

warnings: Friends w benefits! Unrequited love! Mean reader! Deep throating! Face fucking! Spanking! Orgasm denial! Multiple orgasms! Fingering! Angst at the end?!

Author note: ahem- so uh… i know this took sooooo long to come out 😀 so long like more than three months. Im sorry 😭 but is just that I never had the motivation to do it but now i do (somehow).

Kinda hate this ngl-

The moment this all began, the both of you agreed on one thing thats considered as a part of the “terms and conditions”. And that was, don’t catch feelings. do and this is all over. - These were your very own words.

He thought it would got smoothly for him. Getting the money from you in exchange to you using his body however you like, then you’ll just continue to live on your life like it never even happened. And he never worried about “catching feelings” or such.

He took this a bit too lightly for his own good. After spending more time with you without even realizing it, he was head over heels for you.

And so he broke the only rule you had set for him. He knows if you found out this would all be over, but he doesn’t want that. He still wants you, he still wants to feel your hands on him. Even if he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this was, he still want his heart to continue beating for you. But he’s sure as hell you don’t feel the same. And he knows that it would only end badly if you were to find out.

So the only logical option is for him to distant himself. Because he knows how bad he is at holding himself back when near you.

Well spoilers: that did not work. It only resulted in him being more desperate then he ever was. It felt like torture away from you, and you didn’t approach him first and it made him even more desperate.

Till he said “Fuck it” and hurriedly went running looking for you. He just wants to be near you and held by you, even if it’s only you holding his legs up to give yourself better access inside him.

Once he found you he knew exactly whats the magic word that he had to say. “Got any mora to spare?”. Per your agreement, if he wanted money he had to satisfy you first.

Without a word you went back to your house with zhongli following behind like a little puppy. Upon reaching the house and closing the door he didn’t waste a singular second and sat down on his knees mouth wide open waiting for you to do however you please.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious desperation in his eyes. Along side the adorable desperate eyes is an eager one, wanting to please and be pleased already.

Saliva dripped down his opened mouth, with his tongue sticking out. You always found the shape of his tongue so fascinating. it was paler than normal human tongue and much more longer. You can already imagine how it would feel like around you.

You pressed your index to the surface of his tongue. observing his reaction as you moved your fingers deeper, tracing his tongue as you made your way down his throat.

He looked so majestic. Slowly gagging at your fingers invading his mouth, almost at the verge of tears. You made his body twitch needly because of the way you looked down at him. Almost like he was some type of a dessert, and you were ready to eat him whole.

Soon the desperation turned to arousal which turned to greed. He wanted more of you rather than just fingers, even if he didn’t say it directly you can see it deep down his eyes. He wanted to be messed up, so why deny him?.

You wasted no time in undoing your pant, already half hard. The sight of your cock always made his mouth water and eyes shine with lust. Wanting you inside of him sooner rather than later.

Slowly guiding him to take you in his mouth. His tongue wrapped around your cock hungrily. His oh so warm mouth, it made you pant loudly. “Amazing as always” you said it with a hint of amusement in your tone of voice. You grunted while throwing your head back, it felt fucking incredible. His tongue working your cock so good, throat so tight around you “such a good boy, doing so good for me”.

Zhongli felt his whole body shiver and shake at you words, it brought him to tears how much of an effect you have on him.

Yes he’s a good boy only for you <3

He just wants to continue being good for you, he wants to be the source of your pleasure. If he can’t have your love, he’ll be enough with being able to make you cum because of him.

He continued teasing your tip with the back of his throat, while tracing the veins with his tongue. By time it became even harder to hold back, if this continued you’ll just burst completely. Even so you didn’t pull out instead you pushed his head impossibly more deeper, putting up a tight grip on his hair. It made him let out an adorable whimper as tears streamed down his face, it just left you in “aww”.

As you fucked his throat like a little toy you noticed his body reacting to your thrusts. His body arched so beautifully all of a sudden. Soon your confused sound turned to hysterical laughter. Looking down you can see a large spot on his pants.

He just came inside his pants. Why? Just because you acted a bit roughly with him. How funny for none other than the geo archon to cum all over himself like a virgin.

“If i knew fucking your throat is all it takes to make you like this I would’ve done this sooner”. Soon your laughter came down to a stop. “But i don’t remember giving you the permission to cum”.

Zhongli’s embarrassment disappeared once he heard your words. Grabbing his hair and roughly pulling him away from your cock made him whine in pain. “You better Handle the consequences of your own actions, Morax”

You almost ripped his clothes apart from how rough you handled him. It made him gasp loud in surprise. Stripping him naked, you harshly pushed his head against the wooden door. Looking at his quivering body turned you on even more. His thighs covered in his own fluid from a while ago.

His ass too clear to your liking. You raised your hands just to bring it back again on his ass, his body jolted in surprise. he let out a choked out cry as your hand’s smacked his ass again and again, until you felt satisfied enough. The clear skin now had obvious handprints on it. His face couldn’t look more fucked up than it is now.

Swallowing his moans. He looked back at you with beginning eyes as he huffed out in between hiccups “please, do it already”. Spanking was a good punishment, but you still wanted to bully him a bit more.

“Do what? You know I can’t read minds” you said with a wide mischievous smile on your face. It would usually make him so embarrassed, but now he was so desperate to have you inside of him that he lost all the self dignity that he had. He does not care anymore about how shameful it is to beg, he just wants you so so bad.

“Please, i want you inside of me” he cried out “please pleaseplease, pleasseee”. You wanted to laugh at his pathetic pleadings. But the way your cock twitched at the sight. It felt impossible to hold back anymore. Yet you still somehow did it.

Due to avoiding you for quite sometime means thats his hole is absolutely not stretched enough to handle you yet. And You weren’t ‘that’ mean to just ram inside of him without preparations.

So you spat on his hole before using your fingers to spread it all around his rim. A mixture of ‘please’ and whines of your name escaped his mouth.

A loud yelp was what you received when your fingers went past his rim. Determined to stretch him well enough that you can fuck him for continuous hours without stopping.

One finger became two, two fingers became three which soon turned to four. Four fingers stuffing him full. He would’ve came so many times if it wasn’t for your other hand squeezing his tip. Denying any droplet of cum to escape. Which left zhongli a breathless crying mess. Until you deemed him ready.

You didn’t have much energy to tease him or hold back anymore, so you took your chance and rammed your cock all the way hitting his prostate first try.

With that singular thrust he came all over himself, painting the brown door white “Hah, you came just because i put it in? Thats pathetic of you morax” you teased him which resulted in his face becoming full of shame as it dusted dark pink. But it didn’t last long till you started railing him hard again.

You could swear everyone is hearing you two right now from how loud zhongli was being. Moaning out like a needy slut. Screaming your name so loud you actually suspect he’s doing it to show off how much of a whore he is for you.

Going in and out at a fast pace, hitting his prostate with every thrust you make made it all more pleasurable. And from the overstimulation he went through when you denied him his orgasm multiple times made him extra sensitive. And it didn’t take him long for him to cum all over himself again and again, till he can no longer cum anymore.

Chasing your own orgasm. You wrapped your hands around his tummy going in slow and deep, just to feel every part of his warm hole around you.

You both were in such intimate position that it almost made him forget that your weren’t actually together. You were connected together but it still wasn’t what he wanted.

“You like me don’t you” a confused ‘huh’ was let out by zhongli. He looked back at you confused, then that confusion turned to a terrified expression. You never stopped your movements, still fucking into him.

He couldn’t think of a word to say as you kept your steady motion. Before you grunted and pulled out. Jerking yourself off just to cum with a loud sigh. Painting both his back and ass with your cum.

Once you were done his leg’s finally gave up on him and he fell down to the floor. He didn’t know what to say so you talked instead of him.

“As the god of contacts, to break one of the rules of the contract must be a huge sin, eh” silence was what you received so you continued “as per contract, since the only rule was broken. The contract is cancelled.”

“Take this last session as a parting gift” you said as you turned to leave before remembering “oh and have your portion” you said as you threw a bag filled with mora his way. “Never see me again” was all you said before leaving zhongli who’s seated down on the floor being as speechless as a rock.

He was just dumbfounded that he got thrown away like that, thrown away like nothing but a cheap expired toy.

“This was all just a big mistake”

🏷️: @gaybitchfx @vyloy

[justmeinadaze]

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.

I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.

Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.

I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...

Word Count: 5314

You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…

While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?

Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak. 

Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know. 

They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating. 

Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again. 

After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you. 

“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head. 

“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”

“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”

“We?”

“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well. 

You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”

“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.

“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”

Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back. 

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”

“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead. 

“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.

“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”

Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.

“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?” 

The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”

“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”

“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.” 

The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on. 

Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time. 

“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”

Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.

“Do…do you want to pet him?” 

His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head. 

“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.

“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.

Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you. 

“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”

Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door. 

****

When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook. 

“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed. 

“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”

Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.

Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about. 

“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”

Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”

“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”

“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”

Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”

“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”

“They have enough on their plates.”

“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”

The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”

###########

“You came back.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded. 

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”

The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.

No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.

“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.

Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.

You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.

“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”

“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned. 

You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap. 

“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”

He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily. 

“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back. 

“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”

As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back. 

“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”

“Is that not normal for him?”

“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”

“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.

“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”

“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”

“Should you be?”

His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.

“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”

“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”

“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.

“Sure.”

***

As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run. 

When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing. 

“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”

You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”

“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones. 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh. 

“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”

You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”

Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass. 

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”

“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.

The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him. 

Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold. 

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

############

It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.

While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.

“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”

“I could do that.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”

“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”

Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside. 

“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur. 

“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.

“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.

“Yeah, well, what would you know?”

“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”

“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”

“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”

Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”

He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way. 

“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”

“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you. 

“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”

Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.

“You to, Steve Harrington.”

****

The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy. 

“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”

“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”

“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”

You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”

“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”

“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”

“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”

“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”

You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”

He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”

“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”

“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”

“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds. 

“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”

Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.

“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”

“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”

As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW. 

“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”

“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”

“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car. 

“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”

“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”

“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”

“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”

“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”

The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”

Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely. 

“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper. 

When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.

Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head. 

“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”

Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval. 

“Ok. Sounds like fun.”

****

“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around. 

“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around. 

“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall. 

“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”

The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”

Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”

Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”

After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body. 

“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”

“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”

You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him. 

“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did��care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”

The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell. 

“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”

“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”

They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.

[ilovewhiteroses]

Hi darlings! As you all know, Justified: City Primeval is based on Elmore Leonard's novel, "City Primeval: High Noon in Detroit" (1980). I thought it would be interesting to pick out a few excerpts from it to get to know a little bit more of Clement Mansell, whom will Boyd portray in the series. Warning: contains sexual references and violence Spoilers, I guess:

- Clement liked views from high places after years in the flatlands of Oklahoma and feeling the sky pressing down on him. It was the same sky when you could see it, when it wasn’t thick with dampness, but it seemed a lot higher in Detroit. He would look up there and wonder if his mom was floating around somewhere in space.

- Clement sat back on the couch, exposing the pair of bluebirds tattooed above his pure-white breasts. When they had first met three and a half years ago at a disco, Clement had said, “You want to see my birds?” and opened his shirt to show her. Then he’d said, “You want to see my chicken?” When Sandy said yes he pulled his shirt out of his pants and showed her his navel in the center of his hard belly. Sandy said, “I don’t see any chicken.” And Clement said, “It’s faded out; all that’s left is its asshole.”

- ONE TIME CLEMENT WAS RUN OVER by a train and lived. It was a thirty-three-car Chesapeake & Ohio freight train with two engines and a caboose. Clement was with a girl. They were waiting at a street crossing in Redford Township about eleven at night, the red lights flashing and the striped barrier across the road, when Clement got out of the car and went out to stand on the tracks, his back to the engine’s spotlight coming toward him at forty miles an hour. Yes, he was a little high, though not too high. He was going to jump out of the way at the last second, turned with his back to the approaching train, looking over at the girl’s face in the car windshield, the girl’s eyes about to come out of her head. Instead of jumping out of the way Clement changed his mind and laid down between the tracks. The train engineer saw Clement and slammed on the emergency brake, but not in time. Twenty-one cars passed over Clement before the train was brought to a stop and he crawled out from beneath the twenty-second one. The train engineer, Harold Howell of Grand Rapids, said, “There was just no excuse for it.” Clement was taken to Garden City Hospital where he was treated for a bruised back and released. When questioned by the Redford Township Police Clement said, “Did I break a law? Show me where it says I can’t lay down in front of a train if I want?”

- Clement tucked Raymond Cruz’s business card into the elastic of his briefs and took hold of Sandy’s arms, sliding his hands up under the satiny sleeves and tugging her gently against him. He said, “What’re you nervous about, huh? You never been nervous before. You need one of Dr. Mansell’s treatments? That it, hon bun, get you relaxed? Well, we can fix you up.

- “That’s right,” Raymond said, “or he could be in that highrise over there, twenty-five-oh-four. If you remember Clement, he’s got very large balls. The papers at the time called him the Oklahoma Wildman, but he’s more like a daredevil, a death defier . . .” “Evel Knievel with a gun,” Herzog said. “That’s right, he likes to live dangerously and he likes to kill people.”

- Clement said, “Sugar, I told you I want a regular car. I ain’t gonna street race, I ain’t gonna hang out at the Big Boy; I just need me some wheels in your name till things get a little better. Now here’s seven one-hundred-dollar bills, all the grocery money till we get some more. You buy a nice car and pick me up over there—if I can make it across Telegraph without getting killed—where you see that sign? Ramada Inn? I’ll be in there having a cocktail.”

- Clement stared at his little partner, waiting for what she said to make sense. Finally he said, “Honey? . . . I want to talk to this man, I don’t want to dance with him.” “Well, what if he doesn’t want to go there?” “Hey, aren’t you with the good hands people?” Clement inched his own hand over as he said it and caught Sandy between her slender legs. “Aren’t you?” “Cut it out.” “Why, what’s this?” Clement closed his eyes as he felt around. “Whiskers? You growing whiskers on me?” “That hurts.” “Yeah, but hurts good, don’t it? Huh? How ’bout right there? Feel pretty good?” Sandy rolled toward him, pushing out her hips, then stopped. “I ain’t gonna do it less you brush your teeth.” “Come on,” Clement said, “we don’t have to kiss. Let’s just do it.”

- Clement grinned at him. “Well, it don’t matter. We’re here to talk about the basics of love anyway, aren’t we, partner?” He paused, cocking his head. “Listen. Hear what they’re playing? ‘Everybody Loves a Winner,’ ” Clement half singing, half saying it. “That’s a old Dalaney and Bonnie number.” “You’re sure full of platter chatter this evening,” Sandy said. “You ought to get a job at CXI and get paid for it.” “Well, I got nothing against work. I come a piece from the oil fields to the world of speculation, Clement said, seeing Sandy rolling her eyes as he tightroped along the edge of truth. “But I’d rather see my investments do the work than me, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

- “Clement, really, if you’ll stop and think for a minute . . .” His hands slipped inside the roughcotton garment, moved up her body and felt her elbows come in tightly, her eyes staring into his. “What you think I’m gonna do to you? . . . Huh? Tell me.” He moved his thumbs across her breasts. “Hey, your nobs’re sticking out . . . That feel pretty good? Juuuust brush ’em a little, huh? . . . They get hard as little rocks.” His right hand moved lightly down her side to her hip, their eyes still holding. “Now what am I gonna do? . . . That your belly button right there? . . . My, we don’t have no panties on, do we?” His voice drowsy. “Tell what you think I’m gonna do to you . . . Huh? Come on . . .” Clement drew his right hand out of the caftan, bringing it down past his own hip, curled the hand into a fist and grunted, going up on his toes, as he drove the fist into Carolyn’s stomach. Once he got her into the shower, the caftan off her shoulders, pinning her arms, Clement gave Carolyn a working over with a few kidney punches and body hooks, a couple of stinging jabs to the face before a right cross drew blood from her nose and mouth and he turned the shower on her. The job was trying to keep her on her feet, glassy-eyed and moaning, Clement doubting she had much air left in her. He gave Carolyn a towel and guided her back to the desk in the window bay, bright with afternoon sunlight. Opening the checkbook, Clement said, “Let’s see now how much you want to give me.

- “Clement’s only been to prison once,” Sandy said. “He’s been to jail plenty of times, but he’s only spent like a year in a regular prison. He says he won’t ever go back again and I believe him. God, he makes up his mind to something . . . but he’s so unpredictable.

[oddballwriter]

can we get something about Tim being comforted by his partner? we all know he needs it sometimes :(♡ just lots of fluff and anything you'd like to add! thank you, no rush and take your time; mwah!

More Important Than Anything

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Summary: Tim goes through a lot and sometimes he can't handle it. So he always tends to come to you for a sense of comfort and stability. Being his rock is a lot too sometimes, but to you, it's worth it.

Warnings: mentions of distress, injuries that happened in canon, yelling and shouting, behaviors that imply being moments from a panic attack, and the mention of punching a hole in a wall. Spoilers for entry 59.

Author’s Snip: I loved this request sooooo much. Also sorry for not writing, I haven't been in a writing mood recently. Also this is mostly hurt comfort but there's some fluff to it a bit.  

Notes: This takes place right after Jay and Tim's fight in entry 59 and also mentions the part where Alex breaks _____'s knee in a previous entry, which currently evades me rn. Cencoring because of spoilers even though I'm sure you all have seen the entire series at this point. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

You would never call your boyfriend a handful. You would never call him something taxing. You would have something strike you dead if you ever even whispered it to yourself. Tim was a man with his own 'issues' that he's been dealt to live with, and you would never use that as a way to shame him.

But when he goes missing for days without any sign where he is or what he was doing, you'd get worried sick. You knew he was a very private man, but you had faith that if he ever ran off he'd either tell you or ask you to come with. Your fright only got worse when he showed up at your door step after having been gone for weeks with a busted knee and crutches, looking like he saw the gates of hell. You didn't ask any questions and just rushed him inside, and even when you did ask he said he just woke up in his car like that.

You didn't talk much about that day after that. You just let him stay with you till he felt like he was over staying his welcome. Which he wasn't, you would have let him stay till he was completely okay.

But whenever he did leave, you worried about him coming back to you in an even worse state. That's why when you heard a knock at your door in the dead of night you had that vision loom over you till you opened it.

It was in fact Tim, thankfully not physically beaten, but he looked very distressed. Something he used to do when his condition was at it's worse and he needed someone to be there to ground him and make sure he didn't hurt himself. But this was different. He just looked genuinely upset about something. You moved aside to let him in which he quickly did without saying a word.

"Is everything okay?" you muttered out. "No," Tim bursted out. "No! Everything's not okay! I just- It's just..." Tim exclaimed out but couldn't find the right words to describe what was wrong, like his feelings were flying everywhere and he hadn't properly collected them. His body language kept changing back and forth from that of a person who wanted to curl up and cry to a person who wanted to scream and punch holes in the walls, and neither of them stuck around to lock on either action.

"What happened?" you asked in a hushed tone and carefully walking towards him, like if too harsh of a voice or fast of a movement would spook him and make him worse. "Too much happened!" he shouted. You flinched at the volume of his voice. You knew he wasn't shouting at you. He was distressed and caught in between too many strong emotions and he doesn't know how to hold them still. You knew that. But you had never seen him this full of anger before. Upon recovering from the misplaced tone, you cautiously placed your hand on his upper arm. "Tim. What happened?" you repeated.

In that moment, Tim seemed to just come crumbling down. He practically latched onto you, almost making you fall down, and had just started to spill out so many things. You couldn't keep up with all of it, he was talking too fast. What you managed to take in was him talking about his condition coming back in full force after it had seemingly gone away, then side tracking talking about when he came to you that day with that busted knee and how terrified you looked for him, and something about a channel, an old acquaintance, and then his medical documents and something about a guy named Jay. All the while you had lead him to your couch so that he wouldn't fall to the floor as his body crumbled. Once he was done, he had practically sunk the two of you into the couch completely and he held onto you like you were the only thing still keeping his wits together. And he shook like one of those terrified little dogs.

You just held him. You held him as tight as you could and consoled him. That's all you could do. All you could do was just rub up and down his back and mutter "It's okay." and "I'm here." into his hair while Tim himself just shook and seemed on the boarder of crying.

"I'm not crazy, right?" Tim asked very suddenly. Before you could ask "What?" out of confusion, he looked up at you. "I'm not crazy, right? You don't think I'm a psychopath or anything?" he asked. He looked like he was frazzled, like his last wits will be spent and he'd ball and hyperventilate if you didn't answer in time. "No," you answered quickly.

"No. No, Tim. I don't think you're crazy. Not at all." you responded and you carefully held his face in your hands. "You aren't a psychopath and you're not crazy. You just... have a lot going on." you explained. "You have a lot of things going on and you don't fully understand it." .

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he trembled out. "I just want to be normal. Why does this have to happen to me?" Tim cried. You went back to holding him tightly and ran you hand through his hair. You muttered "I know." and the past phrases of "It's okay." "I'm here." as you kissed which ever part of his head you could reach and gently shushing as he wept.

You don't know how long you stayed there holding, muttering to, and kissing him, but at some point you stopped for a moment and realize that he had fallen asleep, probably having weeped himself into exhaustion. Even then you didn't stop holding him. You just did your best to position the two of you so you could lay on the couch and let yourself fall asleep. The bed that you were originally about to fall asleep in before he came didn't matter anymore. Tim was far more important than that. Tim is more important than just about everything in your book.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

That Isn't What I Pictured When You Said "Speak From Your Heart"

So...guys. This book. This is the book where we get Haven. This is the book where we get companions. This is the book where we get heralds. This book should have been legitimately awesome and...like...yes, but also no? Let's talk Valdemar.

So as the very brief intro probably clues you into, this is a SPOILERIFIC ZONE. There are SPOILERS HERE. Consider yourself warned.

This book picks up after what feels like ten-odd years of the Valdemarans having been living in Haven, which is thriving. They have surplus, they have trade amongst themselves, they're developing their infrastructure, and they're starting to look past survival and at what they want to build. We are told about the plagues, infestations, and other stuff the Valdemarans have overcome while they settled and grew Haven, but when the book actually opens, they're sitting pretty and starting to get to a point where they can do things that start to feel like luxuries.

They're doing real good, so of course we have to fuck that up somehow.

The weird thing about that though, is the pacing and subplots of this book, and also the fact that this book is...NOT GOOD at disability. I went into that pretty deeply in this post, so I'm not going to repeat myself here. But despite still enjoying Kordas as a character and going giddy fangirl over watching the Valdemar I know and love take shape, the structure of this book landed a bit funny with me.

Until the last quarter or so of this book, the driving force behind this book is Kordas's anxiety that Valdemar won't outlive his son's reign, because humans are inherently the worst and without a strong, moral, great human leader the kingdom will fall to base savagery. And y'all, I live in the 2020s. I don't even disagree that humanity's worst is BAD. I do kind of have a problem with Kordas's logic being waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too similar to Trumpian strongman "I am the only one who can fix it" but leaning more toward lawful good ("only a good man can fix it" but we never actually define "good man" more clearly than "Kordas and Restil" so it's a whole thing) than chaotic evil. That's more or less what the companions fix though, so I can get on board with Kordas's thought experiment and working through the anxiety about his legacy.

Once the companions show up though, then we get back to the Kordas I enjoy most: the avid, highly-detailed planner. This man and the first grove-born companions have to basically come up with the heraldic circle on the fly, and watching the heralds be born was VERY fun. That was just great.

I do need to take a minute to call out THAT scene, though. Because here's the thing. By the time this book was written, the lore of Valdemar's founding was pretty set. As it is told in Arrows of the Queen:

...he waited till Midsummer's Day; he went out into the middle of what we call Companion's Field now, and he asked every god he'd ever heard of to help him. [...] Well, he started out at dawn; it wasn't till sunset that he got an answer. Everything went kind of light all over, like when you get too much sun on snow, and all he could hear was the sound of hoofbeats--hoofbeats that sounded just like bells. When the light cleared away, there were three horses standing in front of him; horses with coats the color of moonshine and eyes like pieces of sky.

Which has a sort of grandeur and dignity to it. However, as is kind of a theme with the heralds in general, the stories and the realities rarely match up. And a thousand years of narrative drift also explains some of the differences in details, because there are MANY. Kordas's plea to the gods in Valdemar takes the better part of a chapter, so I'm not going to quote it at you here.

What I will say about it though, is that it took place in the middle of the dang night, and it was less a prayer and more like the scenes in Lerner and Lowe's Camelot where Arthur is onstage monologuing to himself about ethics and sorting out what he should do about whatever decision he is facing at that point in the play. This chapter in Valdemar reminds me most strongly of the closing monologue after Lancelot is knighted, and Arthur is like, "Oh this is gonna be so bad, but all I can do is run the course and be king." However, where Arthur is destined for tragedy, Kordas actually gets some help. Which is impressive because the vibe is half angsty King Arthur and half "character on the West Wing can't sleep and so monologues to the gods." Which honestly...the description still feels like it has more grandeur and dignity than the experience of reading it did, because you're not watching Kordas pace and monologue, you're literally in his head. It's a very weird take on this, and it's not what I was expecting, but I think it did work, for some definition of work.

What I think absolutely did not work was the fact that Mercedes Lackey decided that this was also the book to tell the full story of Shadowdancer and Sunsinger--who those of you familiar with the Valdemar music will recognize from their 2005 album, Sun and Shadow. We also get their legend in Arrows of the Queen. Unfortunately...they're very secondary characters in this book, and despite Rothas pulling a Bard ex machina at the end, they kind of feel completely disconnected from the rest of the founding narrative. Like, I was happy with their legend being in song and retold, I was not jonesing for Rothas and Lythe's story here. It was just kind of...crowbarred in and we never really got to know Lythe at all. I truly do not think this part of the book worked. I appreciate the attempt at complicating the concept of lifebonds, but it broke the narrative's spine a little because there wasn't enough space to really explore it.

The other thing that didn't work was how fast the big bad for this book blew up and how equally fast she was defeated. There was also some ugly sanism around her characterization, and I did not love that. She was a Hawkbrother apprentice who...randomly went mad for *cough* inaudible mumbling *cough* reasons, murdered her bondbird, and fucked off into the wilderness before showing back up with blood magic to try to throw monsters at Haven's gates to conquer it. The book tries to give her a tragic backstory and connection to Silvermoon to add some emotional weight to her, but it doesn't land. The big climactic battle feels weirdly underwhelming, and honestly I would have been fine with this book focusing more on building the heraldic circle and like...diplomacy with other settlements around Haven. Random big climactic battle with crazy mage lady felt off tonally and a bit like an editor went "this is a fantasy book, put a big battle at the end." Which I don't think is what actually happened, given Lackey's fame and experience, but that's what if FEELS like.

So the TLDR on this book is that seeing Valdemar and the Heraldic Circle get born was awesome, the character work was mostly good, but there was some weird tonal dissonance and some really problematic ableism and sanism that kind of soured the reading experience for me.

[taegularities]

Btw I finally read Entertainer because I was free last night after a long time and when I read especially your works I like to take my time to take every word and every line in and oh my god it was great. I have so much to say about it but idk just what to say cause that fic got me thinking and uhh I'll probably say things that won't really make sense cause my thoughts are so jumbled up right now so please don't mind it.

I was so excited to read it that's why I read cmi palette first and I have to say that it lived up to it. I was avoiding and asks about it cause I didn't want to spoil it for myself and I generally love spoilers so it's a big thing that I was avoiding any. The warnings gave me an idea of what it could be so I was anticipating it. His craving for OC was just so pathetic to see. OC is such a badass and mysterious in the beginning. She and Cmi OC are my favs I have to say. I loved how she'd reject his advances and he'd be agitated.

“Consent is consent. He's grown up now.” (I'm sorry if that wasn't the line but it was something along those lines) and the “sexual harassment” in the warnings had me go ohh I'm damn sure now but nevertheless it was ever worse than that. You said not to fall for him and I made sure to remember it and thank goodness I didn't 😮‍💨 I love love love OC for this so much, I'm straight but she got me questioning my sexuality (not really but you know what I'm talking about) I swear if she was a man I woulda put a ring on it cause there's no way in hell I am letting that goddess go but then again MEN can NEVER match a woman's energy like that much less OC's.

Jungkook just wanted to fuck her and that was clear from the beginning, he was intrigued by her and his want to unfold her secrets was what made him want her even more. He just wanted a taste. His inner monologue about him being selfish but not bad was a giveaway of his egotistical personality and I'd say narcissistic too. His blindness to his mistake, his inability or him being incapable of accepting it and taking accountability just shows how terrible of a person he is. That mistake was a prank to him and he kept calling it one repeatedly which is just so disgusting.

I wouldn't say anything about the smut but only because of the whole story, after what he did to Jangmi I couldn't really bring myself to “enjoy” it but if we Only talk about the smut part separately without knowing the whole context I'd say that you slayed it just like every time.

I have to be honest I stopped listening to the playlist once I got to the “morning after” part. It was intense and the tension was there in the room like a huge entity engulfing each and every corner of the room and every being in that room, not that it wasn't there before but this time things were more intense.

I was holding my breath the whole time I was reading the rest of the fic. The way OC said “I'll stay till my feet tingle” was just 🤌 and before the performance everything was just chef's kiss. What OC did to him was definitely what he deserved. The way all his dreams of conquering the world through his music and his determination and hard work went in vain. He lost it all and that was satisfying to see. Jangmi was such a sweet and pure soul and my heart aches for her. She loved someone who did not know what it was, someone who didn't deserve to be loved and she suffered so much because of it. She didn't deserve it, not a single ounce of it but she suffered. I wonder how you can do such horrible things to someone without feeling like offing yourself and I don't think I wanna know how it feels. It's heartbreaking how she lost her life and how she wasn't happy in her last days. I hope she's in a better place now.

Oh yeah and the hints were everywhere. In subtle lines and actions. Not obvious, you just had to pay attention to certain lines more than the others to catch onto it and I loved how my mind was working to process those things and trying to come up with what they could possibly mean.

This fic is a masterpiece, Rid. And you say that you were just experimenting? God knows how much I love this fic. I love all your works and this one wasn't any different. And I think I've said this before as well that I'd read your works if you published them in the form of a book and this one is definitely one that would be a great one. You should definitely write more such fics. Reading this right after cmi was...well so different cause the Jungkook we see in cmi and the Jungkook in Entertainer are polar opposites. I have no words to describe how much I want to kiss your hands rn. You know what? I think I'm rambling now and you'll probably find me praising Entertainer again some time later cause I think I might have more to sya about it 😅Thank you so much for writing this and putting it out for us to read as well. I'm sorry it's kinda long. Love you and your works 💕💕

'that fic got me thinking' YAAAS that's the best thing ever, when something makes you think 😭 there is indeed so much to think about when it comes to entertainer and i loved all of your thoughts so much. (sorry for responding so late, though, but as you said, i like taking my time with such thoughtful reviews too 🥺)

the fact that you were avoiding spoilers is crazy :') and right, he was so pathetic, wasn't he?? like, you can be sweet about wanting someone or you can be ridiculous and not take a hint and keep trying just by you're horny :| cmi and entertainer oc as favourites??? okay if people love these two, i can die in peace lmao

yeah, the consent is consent and growing up line was a biiiig hint (and you're so right, they were everywhere, albeit subtly at times). like, he used to not know it, and honestly, he still doesn't quite understand it, bc the things he did with oc aren't really… desired. i'm glad you didn't fall for him haha he def doesn't deserve it. oc though… 🤣 i understand crushing on her lmao i lowkey do, too. yup yup, him calling it a prank and justifying things really indicates quite clearly what kind of a person he is. and honestly, no good person would think about themselves that 'they're not a bad person, just a little selfish' like 💀 dude.

it's so nice to know that you listened to the playlist at all! i always wonder if people do haha. yet, i also get pausing it, because after that whole chaos, you'd need all your focus for the last scene. so so glad you liked everything about it. it was intense to write but i was also very nervous, bc i couldn't fully say what y'all would think about it. in the end, yes, he deserved losing everything and jangmi deserved better.

it was an experiment for sure yes, and i'm happy i succeeded with it 😭 omg entertainer as a novel, freaking imagineeee!! thank you for saying this. it's hard jumping out of the comfort zone, but i enjoy it, so might come back with another experiment at some point <3 will take all kisses :P and ALSO YEEES, come back anytime haha i'd love to hear your thoughts bc they're so insightful!! thank you so much, love, i'm so freaking appreciative of you and so beyond grateful that you're here. love you sm <3

[thecalmnessandthestorms]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 1: Steer- Fate's Fickle Thread

(Warning for Endwalker Spoilers) The hands of fate are a fickle thing. Not meant to be tampered with, meant to move forwards and onwards as the ticking of a clock. Once I believed fate could be turned, the clock's hands could move in reverse. Change what has been lost to time, and mistakes, and grief. Bring back a world of beauty and peace long forgotten by all but for scattered memories and dreams. I believed it was possible, we all did. But it was not meant to pass. 

You see, time has its direction and its directives. The soul may yearn, and wish, and dream. Oh will it wish and dream! But one must tell it: “what's gone is gone, the past has been written, it's time for a new tale, a new chapter.” I have learned this through trial, through grave error. Through love and loss of great measure. But I know one thing well and that's-

“Rowan!” Rowan put down her quill with a small sigh as Seraphiaux knocked on the door to her apartment and called to her. She was happy he was more full of energy lately. Less afraid. On the other hand, however, these were thoughts that needed to be put to the page. Important, crucial thoughts for the future. 

He would just knock again though, she knew it. 

With another sigh Rowan stood to open her door, revealing the brightly smiling young man behind it.

 …By the Star it was infectious. 

“Is there a reason for the excitement here?” She questioned. There certainly was, and Rowan was sure she'd be finding out, only hoping that it was NOT a disaster of sorts this time. 

“I- I got some of the seeds Alastor gave you to sprout! In the greenhouse! The ones you said came from the place in your dreams?” Sera looked a little sheepish then. Afraid he'd been just a little too much about it. “S-sorry. I… got a little carried away, but- but it's exciting! Right? A plant long lost coming back even in a small degree? I- I thought you might want to come see! If you aren't busy?”

Rowan smiled at him reassuringly and put a hand near his shoulder, only touching it when Sera gave a slight nod. “If you give me just a moment to finish my journal entry, I'll be over, okay, Sweetie?”

With just a quick nod, he was off, and Rowan could return to her desk. Finish her thoughts where she left off just moments ago.

-that fate is not ours to control. We of the Ascians tried to steer the realm backwards. Back in time. Back to before the Star was split across ten and three. A time which wasn't perfect, but was lovely, and beautiful. 

Yet this world is too, even without a hand trying to steer its course. Since the fall of Zodiark, I have made up my mind. Made up my mind to live and learn. See this realm till my end and aid it in flourishing in the little ways I can. Just like the ancient realm, it's beautiful. Imperfect, but the people have such passion, such spirit! I hope you can be proud of me, Old Man from wherever you so gaze upon us from the aetherial sea. Proud of Azem too, who's spirit still lives on in others, ever the curious soul that they always have been. 

The path we walk now is our own, and I am quite finished with trying to alter the course of things. I'll never forget the looks on people's faces of joy and wonder when I danced the tales from my dreams, the ones which still remain as I do so. Yet, I no longer feel the need to restore that place. Merely keep its memory alive. In the hearts and minds of others, in a song, in a dance, in the smallest of sprouts it yet lives! 

The road ahead is uncertain, but now I steer fate towards a new path. I steer it towards where my heart takes it, ever winding, ever new. I steer it towards a new story, a new chapter, and ever am I longing to see where it leads… 

[fantasy-on-parchment]

Can you do something like jacks hurt eva emotionally and she is hurt and he didn't realized it till later and then he rushes to her trying to make it up to her

Yes I can! Might mix it up with a lil smut at the end so I hope everyone’s okay with that!!!

FAIR WARNING ⚠️ because I started this fix before Ballad was released, it will not follow the storyline of ballad or contain any spoilers

Make It Up to You (pt. 1)

Evangeline x Jacks

Warnings: angst and a lil miscommunication.

Summary: while visiting her childhood home, Evangeline struggles with her feelings for Jacks while reminiscing over Luc. In an emotional moment, she turns to Jacks for comfort, in which the fate does not know how to respond.

This is unedited, because I’m dealing with a broken foot and all in all not feeling amazing. You do get a Jacks🍎 pov at the end where our little fate reveals all his feelings…

“Why are we here again?” Came a drawl from besides Evangeline in the carriage, pulling her away from fumbling with the hem of her bodice.

“I told you, I just wanted to get a few items my parents gifted me before they died. I also said you didn’t have to come.” She threw a playful eyeroll before actually turning towards him. Her breath hitched when she found him already looking at her.

She'd never get used to how... pretty he was, but in a deadly way. With his messy blonde hair hanging perfectly over his blue eyes, it was no wonder why girls risked their lives for a simple kiss.

But he wasn't just his looks, not to Evangeline. She hated herself for it, for noticing his pain--and the good qualities hiding behind it. The protectiveness, determination, and absolute desperation for someone to love-to be loved by. It made her heart hurt to think about, especially when sometimes she thought about what it might be like if she was that someone.

Jacks cleared his throat, a sign he'd caught her staring while she drifted off in her thoughts. She immediately looked away, thankful the carriage was coming to a stop in front of what was now her stepmother's house. She reached down to adjust her dress, insistent on ignoring the fate's stare burning into her side profile. Sometimes she caught herself wondering how he felt about her appearance, or her in general, but then she would shake it off and remind herself of all the times he looked away from her as if she wasn't worth looking at.

But she was wondering, "Why did you come?"

There was a chuckle from next to her, "Because," he began, stepping out of the carriage and extending a hand to her, "there never seems to be a dull moment when I'm with you."

She lowered her head as she took his hand, hoping he wouldn't see the blush creeping up her cheeks. She gracefully stepped out of the box, landing in front of her childhood home with a deep breath.

“Usually someone gets hurt, some new curse is unlocked to torture poor souls… and oh you know how I love torture, Little Fox.” He continued with a wink, as if he just had to ruin what otherwise might have been thought of as endearing words.

With an exhale, she lowered her shoulders, “Of course.” Shaking off the exchange, she shifted her focus to her stepmother standing on the porch in front of the door.

The building was more of a cottage, too small to really be considered a house. Her mother did well with it though, while she was alive. She decorated with vines going up the walls and surrounding the windows, assortments of flowers covered the yard. It had been a long time since she died, and the stepmother didn’t bother to keep up the garden. Now, the vines had grown brown and the flowers fell.

It suited Marisol’s mother, Evangeline thought.

The chuckle from next to her confirmed the Fate agreed.

Without so much as a hello, the older woman turned around and traipsed back into the house. She left the door open, the only signal they were allowed to come inside. With a smirk, Jacks turned to her and gestured up the path, “After you, Little Fox.”

With a halfhearted smile, she took the lead up to the house. Without realizing, she focused on Jacks’s footsteps behind hers. They were heavy and strong… and assertive.

Evangeline shook her head, entering the small home. As she expected, Agnes was waiting by the door with her arms crossed.

She withheld a sigh and suffered through a smile, “Hello, Agnes, how have you been doing?”

She hummed a response with a shrug, “I’m fine. How is my Marisol?”

Jacks snorted.

We’re great too, thank you.

Get used to it. Was all Evangeline could respond with.

“Marisol is doing fine, she’s been enjoying her stay at Wolf Hall.”

“Hmph.” And that seemed to be all Agnes cared about, next she stuck her nose in the air and turned back to the kitchen and whatever smell was wafting from it.

“Well, she’s cheery.” Jacks drawled as he faced her again.

“Yes well… welcome to my home.”

It was shy, almost something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Here was Jacks, standing in the entry way of the home that stored 90% of her memories. It was nerve wracking, wondering what he was thinking. If he thought it was nice, or that it was too small to be enjoyable. It scared her, but she also liked the idea of him here. She liked… sharing this with him.

The look on his face was content as he took in the living room to their right, and the dinning room to their left. He managed a kind enough smile, and that was good enough for her.

But then it was shadowed by the glimmer in his eyes, and a wolfish grin, “Now, show me this childhood bedroom.”

With a blush, she turned down the hall and walked to the furthest door. Her room was small, but walking in was the most relieving thing Evangeline had felt in a while. It smelled like Vanilla, the scent she obsessed over as a teenager. Her walls were soft yellows, and the room was accentuated with baby pinks and white cloths and frames.

She sighed as she stepped aside for Jacks to take in the room. For all his big, dominating features, he didn’t look off putting in the space. She watched his lips twitch up as he scanned the room and his eyes fell on her. He smiled genuinely and just… Evangeline’s breath hitched.

“What?” She couldn’t help it.

Jacks stepped further into the room, rounding her pink bed and picking up the stuffed teddy bear near her pillows. He held it in his big hands, observing it’s little blue shirt and the lacy bow on its head. After smiling at it for a second, he looked up at her. Something flashed behind his blue eyes. It wasn’t mischievous or malice, but more wondrous and… admiring?

It was gone before she could decide. His face turned stone again as he dropped the stuffed animal.

“Um…” She took a step back. She wasn’t sure if his mood swings would ever be a normal occurrence to her.

Clearing his throat: “What do you think the evil step-mother is cooking?”

Evangeline wrapped her arms around herself, a little caught up by the changing atmosphere, “I don’t know… you can go see while I look through some things.” Her tone was weak, but she kept her face strong. She didn’t want him to think she wanted him to stay in here with her. There was no way Jacks would be interested in going over her childhood memories with her.

So she stepped out of the way, and he passed by without a word. She was left alone in the small room that used to be her safe haven, scanning through all the journals and paintings. In the corner sat a window seat, with white billowing curtains and a desk adjacent on the wall.

Before heading to her desk, she stepped into the closet next to her bed and pulled out a leather luggage bag. It was small, but it would hold enough of what she wanted to take back to the North with her. Evangeline sat it on her bed and undid the many straps that held it closed. She didn’t want to pack any clothes, her wardrobe was usually cleaned out and renewed once a week at Wolf Hall anyways.

So she moved to the desk, opening drawers and pulling out stacks of papers and trinkets until she had a neat stack on top of the desk. She pulled out her antique chair to sit in, and began going through the contents of the papers and putting specific letters she wanted to keep in the bag.

Most of the letters and drawings were from her parents. Her mother liked to draw, mystical little creatures from her imagination usually, and Evangeline would sneak off with them if she got a chance. The memory of her mother’s knowing face when she clutched the items between her fingers as a child made her smile. She imagined she’d decorate her walls at Wolf Hall with them.

There were several trinkets from her father’s shop, little things she’d coveted throughout the years. There were little vials with liquids of different colors, deemed “love” or “forgetting” or “knowledge.” She had never used them, not ever knowing if she truly believed in potions. But now, after all she’d seen, the little vials made her chuckle.

She tossed the vials in the bag with the letters.

The next few items made her stop breathing. Her fingers hovered over the necklace, the love letter, and the ring box.

Her breath came out in a gasped, “Luc.”

He was always in the back of her mind, but she hadn’t had a moment to stop and reminisce about their lost relationship.

The ring box had come with the letter that rested below it. It had been kept in an otherwise empty drawer, that’s how much Evangeline cherished it. It was the only time anyone had ever really confessed their love for her, the only time she’d ever truly felt wanted.

Her eyes watered as she picked up the ring box. It was black velvet in the shape of a heart, with a silver promise ring inside.

The letter had said: “Until I can put a wedding ring on your finger, instead.”

Along with four more paragraphs about how much he loved her.

What if she never found that again? That was her one chance and it was stolen out from under her?

“Evangeline?”

She jumped at his voice, scooting back in her chair and wiping her eyes. But he had seen, in an instant he was kneeling in front of her, his cold hands pulling her wrists from her face.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Jacks scanned the room, confusion dawning when he didn’t see any physical threat.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She moved away from him, the smell of apples and blood becoming overwhelming.

That didn’t seem to help with the worry creasing hun brow. He lifted a thumb to wipe away a stray tear, and all it seemed to do was make her sob. That was when his eyes landed on the ring and the letter, and he pulled away quickly. Evangeline moved her eyes to the items as well, brushing her fingers over the necklace with another sob.

“I just… all I wanted when I came to your church was love, I would have begged for it. But now, it’s been a year, and I’m still here wishing to just truly be wanted.” The words spilled out, even if she knew they probably weren’t warranted.

Which she did, judging by how quickly his face turned to stone. Jacks stood up with what could have been vampiric speed. He cleared his throat, “I’ve told you, he wasn’t strong enough to love you.”

But that didn’t make sense, “Am I that hard to love? Shouldn’t it be easy?”

A hand ran through gold locks frustratingly, “And why do you think I would know?“

Evangeline stood, taken aback by the outburst. Jacks was suddenly so guarded, where he had seemed somewhat open this trip. “I don’t—“

“Vampire boy isn’t worth it, Little Fox. He can’t love you if it was so easy to curse him, and let’s face it, he probably didn’t love you in the first place!”

With that, he was gone.

She was left with her jaw hung open, once against fiddling with her bodice. She really didn’t know what she was thinking, expecting Jacks to empathize with her. She knew he wanted to feel loved too, and yet all he could tell her was that the one person who might have loved her never did in the first place. That hurt, but she could t say that hurt because how could she expect him to care that he hurt her?

So after sniffing up the tears and pushing down the sobs, she clasped the leather bag and slung it over her shoulder. With a deep breath, she moved down the hall to the dining room where Agnes and Jacks were sitting with the soup she’d cooked.

She cleared her throat to bring there attention and, while Jacks turned his emotionless expression to her, Agnes couldn’t bother. At the moment, Evangeline really couldn’t care less.

“I’ll be waiting in the carriage.”

“Why—“

It didn’t matter, she’d already turned and moved down the porch to the horses. Once again, focusing on the heavy footsteps that rushed to catch up with her.

Then he was in front of her, grabbing her elbows to stop her from moving.

“You’re not sad anymore.”

“Oh really?” She smiled sarcastically.

“You’re mad. Why are you mad?”

She sighed, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not mad, Jacks, just ready to go.”

He went to stop her when she tried to sidestep him, but for once she was faster. Hurrying to the carriage, she allowed the coach to help her in before she situated herself on the opposite side from where she had sat before. She wanted to put space between them, as much as was possible for now.

She wouldn’t let herself look at him on the ride back. She wouldn’t think about his hands wrapped around her wrists, how assertive they had been, how safe she’d felt. Jacks wasn’t her chance at a happily ever after, and after the year she’s had, maybe she didn’t have that chance anymore.

~~JACKS 🍎~~

The ride home was quiet except for Jacks’s frustrated sighs. She was angry, it was obvious she was angry, and as much as he wanted to not care, it just wasn’t working.

He’d seen that house. How small it was, yet he had the feeling it was once filled with laughter and love. It had to have been before the stepmother arrived, however, because seeing how she regarded Evangeline made his blood boil. He’d only stayed in the kitchen with her because Evangeline’s room was absolutely overwhelming.

It was so her, every inch of it. The pinks and whites, especially that stuffed teddy bear. His heart had been beating, yes, but it was running a marathon in that room. He hated it.

They neared Wolf Hall when he finally allowed himself to look across the carriage, resting his eyes on her as she pretended not to notice. Her eyes were still glassy, her cheeks red with anger. She pierced her lips tightly, as if forbidding herself to make any sound. He forced himself to smirk, but her quiet made his stomach roll.

He tried to focus on her appearance, the way her bodice hugged her waist and her skirts fanned her hips. Her breasts were pushed up on her chest, allowing her necklace to rest between. They’d taunted him on the journey south, but now all he could think about was that blessed leather bag.

Did she have the ring in the bag? Was she holding that letter close so she could keep it and remember Luc?

He couldn’t help it, he had to know.

“So, did you throw vampire boy’s little promise ring in that bag as well?” It came out harsh, and he smirked to himself. Good.

It was when her eyes met his as the door opened that he thought: maybe it wasn’t so good. “No, Lord Jacks, I did not bother to keep the ring of someone who never loved me in the first place.”

She hurried out the door, and he watched her ascend the steps into the castle. Her voice had broke between words, her eyes seemed to well. She wasn’t angry.

Jacks sat back dumbstruck. She was upset. Upset with him?

He leaned on his knees with his head in his hands, “Oh, Little Fox…”

He’d brushed it off before, if he hurt someone. People’s feelings were simply casualties, nothing more. But… Evangeline felt with such a passion he wasn’t sure he could just let it go.

Sometimes, he really thought she understood him. She wanted to be loved, just as he did. He saw her face when he’d give her little touches, saw the desire for intimacy behind her eyes. He was sure his held the same intentions.

He had wanted her, had wanted to know what her skin felt like, what her love felt like. What did it feel like to hold her while she cried, while she moaned?

With a groan, Jacks got up and out of the carriage. He needed to find his room, recharge. Then, he’d go looking for his little fox.

And he’d make her forget any place that little boy had touched her.

[dadsbongos]

trashy dad

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Shota Aizawa/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: references (2) to un*s ann*s, one (1) use of (y/n), fem pronouns Summary: Shota trying to support his YouTuber daughter :) cuz social media aus own me Word Count: 2.1K ~~~

"Hey, gamers," you grin at the camera before tossing an arm over your father's shoulders, "My dad's in town and as you can see," you hesitated slightly before turning to face your father, "Dad's not super into taking care of himself. So, I figured what's better than doing a Q&A together while I do his makeup?"

"Hitoshi just did a 'what I eat in a day', didn't he?" Shota quirked a brow, already reaching back to tie up his messy, tangled hair.

"Spoilers!" you quietly whine as you open your phone, "He still has to edit it, silly man. We're gonna have to brush out your hair later, by the way."

Shota's eyes widened, "We? I thought this was your idea and video, (Y/n)."

"No," you huff, scrolling through a few of the questions from fans, "I mean it was but your hair is so… Okay, first question is from - oh my God the names - shrekslongtoe, what was my first word?"

"Are you gonna start putting makeup on me or just sit there?" Shota scratched at his nose before snickering, "That wasn't your first word. Your first word was 'Dada' and it drove Hizashi insane."

"Hizashi is my other dad, by the way," you lean over to grab your makeup bag, "'Toshi and I call him papa. Oooh, oh no," you looked up to Shota, "I don't have your shade, you're gonna look weird."

"I don't really care," the man shrugged, watching as you took out a pink beauty blender, "That looks like a buttplug."

"Don't say that!" your eyes were wide at his words while you got out your foundation, "Youtube doesn't like that."

"Whoops," he deadpanned, "Next question."

"Shit, right."

"Language."

"Japanese," you murmur, going to the next reply, "yoonbumskneecap asks, 'Did you believe in me-’ they said my name but you know, ‘and Hitoshi when they decided to become Youtubers?' And 'in 'Toshi's case - drop out of college to become a professional clout man.'"

"To be honest," Shota closed his eyes, only in slight fear, as you began pressing the foundation into his skin, "I was really worried about Hitoshi, I didn't know if he'd stay as big as he was because he's a lot like me, in the sense that people tend to not like us for our bluntness. So I was worried he'd be a meme for like a month and then people would drop him, but thankfully I was proved wrong," he opened his eyes when he felt you pull away and begin rooting through your bag once again, "With you, I was less worried because you're more like 'Zashi, i.e extremely likable, and you were kind of getting a boost from appearances on Hitoshi's channel. I still worry because the internet is a fickle mistress but I'm not staying up at night about it."

Pulling out a dark eyebrow pencil, you grin at your father, "Aww, that was kinda sweet. Not really but kind of."

"What I'm here for," Shota's eyes followed your hand as you uncapped the pencil and reached up, beginning to mark at his eyebrows, "I'm gonna read the next question while you kill my eyebrows."

"I'm not killing them!" you giggled, "But unlike Papa, you already have pretty thick, full eyebrows so I won't be here long."

"Good," he muttered before furrowing his brows in confusion, ignoring your frustrated groan, "who is daddysero and why is he asking if you pissed today?"

"What?!" you pull your dad's hand back to see what he was looking at, instantly calming down when you saw he was still on Twitter, "Oh, that's just Sero, he asks me that every time I tweet. I thought you went to my Instagram DMs," at Shota's questioning stare you grinned, "Mama's got simps in her DMs."

"Don't ever call yourself 'Mama' in my presence ever again," Shota shook his head, once again ignoring your annoyance, "papichulo46290 wants to know my favorite memory of you."

"If you mix me up with 'Toshi, I'll be so pissed," you return the eyebrow pencil to your bag as Shota speaks.

"I won't... probably," he shrugs while you root through your bag, "So, Hizashi had taken Hitoshi out for ice cream because of - has he mentioned his middle school trauma?" at your nod, he continues, "Hitoshi was having a bad day from middle school, shocking, so you and I were left home alone together. You were probably seven and you really wanted to paint my nails and I let you. You..." he shook his head, snickering, "you fucked them up. So bad. But you were so happy to just be spending time with me- "

"Keep talking, but I'm gonna do your eyeshadow," you lean back in, swishing your brush over a navy blue, almost black shade, "Just so you guys know, Dad wanted to look like shit, don't unsubscribe cuz this is gonna come out bad."

"It won't be too bad, you're talented," Shota did his best to remain still, "But overall, you were just so adorable and it didn't even matter that the smudged nails got me teased in the teacher's lounge the next day. It all came off after like a week because it was shitty polish but you get the idea."

"Aww, I didn't know you kept it on, that's so sweet," you fall back briefly to inspect your work, "It's not awful but I'm only posting this because you're my dad."

"Of course, I did," Shota continued scrolling through the questions, "A lot of people are asking if you mean Dad or Daddy, and a lot more people are asking for pictures of your feet, you should block them all."

"Yeah, I got sickos in my replies too, just gotta scroll past em'."

"Disgusting..." Shota grumbled as you moved to his other eye, "Is 'electrodick' Kaminari, perchance?"

"Unfortunately."

"Gross, he asks if you had an 'I'm not like other girls' phase," Shota hummed quietly in thought, "Maybe when you were eight for like a month, but that's probably because except for Nemuri you didn't have any women in your life. Thankfully you moved on from that pretty quickly."

"Oh yeah, that was a gross, weird time. You and Papa also weren’t shitty people so I didn’t have a lot of misogynist influence."

"I like to think we did a good job," Shota sighed, finally moving back into his slouching position when you pulled away completely, "Is 'explosionmurder' Bakugou?"

"You know it."

"Okay well, he's asking if you plan on fucking up your bronzing again?" he thinks for a moment, “Was that from when you looked kinda copper-ish in a video?

"Oh my God, that was one time, Bakugou!" you shout and shake your brush at the camera, "One time!"

"I don't even know what blending is so you're doing better than I am."

"God, how are we related?"

Without hesitation, Shota replied, "Surrogate. Which answers summerlongsock's question."

"Nice," you chuckle, setting the brush back in your bag, "You probably won't need too much bronze or countour since you're going for bad," you immediately turn to the camera, "And Bakugou isn't gonna say a fucking word about it!"

"Is eyeliner next? And if so, I would enjoy a nice wing," Shota muttered, looking through the remaining questions, "Hitoshi asks why I haven't done a video with him yet."

You nod along while uncapping the liner, "I'm curious about that too. I thought my first video with a parent would be with Papa. I was gonna say family but..." you shrug, "Hitoshi was my first video and then Eri came on."

"He never asked," Shota closed both of his eyes, allowing you to move his head around as you pleased, "You just texted me the video idea and we set it up while I was in town. If Hitoshi wants a video so bad he should come up with an idea."

"Jeez, don't bully the poor boy," you laughed quietly, carefully applying more eyeliner to your father's left lid, "We should all do a video together. I think it'd be fun."

"Come up with an idea," he replied flatly before opening his eyes, "davinky wants to know when you got into makeup. Probably after thirteen, sometime."

"Yeah, I got my first real eyeshadow at like fourteen and then you guys just enabled my love of makeup after that."

"Well, the thing with that was, Hizashi and I didn't want you growing up thinking you had to wear makeup for any reason," Shota opened his eyes once he felt you back away, blinking a few times, "So we waited till you were more mature because giving makeup to a six-year-old is weird."

Capping your eyeliner, you traded it out for mascara, "Yeah, even little play kits are a bit ehhh. Don't close your eyes, but look down."

Following instruction, Shota took the opportunity to read off another question, "I can't see the name but someone's asking what we did together for fun. While you were a kid."

Humming quietly in thought, you move from one eye to the other, "We used to go to diners a lot. Those late-night diner trips, remember?"

"Oh yeah, you were such a little demon about bedtime. I had to take you to this little place for scrambled eggs or some shit and you'd fall asleep on the way back home."

Putting away your mascara, you reach out for your hairbrush before beginning to pull out the hair tie in Shota's hair, "Mina wanted me to ask what videos you show people when they ask what your kids do for a living."

"For Hitoshi, the one where he and Kaminari made Bakugou breakfast with sex toys. For you, the one where you turn yourself into Mina's little character - with the pink skin," Shota winced slightly at the tug of your hairbrush, "And Eri's a teacher so that information comes first since it's the least strange."

As you fussed with his tangled nest of hair, you read another question over Shota's shoulder, "When did you know you loved me? Like after adopting me."

"Not too long after the adoption was finalized actually," Shota grumbled as the brush made its final courses through his hair, "You've always been a really great kid. I don't know when I 'realized' but it was definitely around the time you were born, maybe like the day after."

"That's pretty good considering I was a stranger," you giggled, brushing out the final knots in his dark hair, "A baby stranger."

"Hmm," Shota hummed in response, "You almost done?"

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you fluffed Shota's now smooth and detangled hair around his shoulders with a small smile, "I'm done. Your hair is so pretty when it's brushed out."

"I know," the man muttered, handing your phone back, "Wanna do one more question and then sign off?"

"Yeah," you scroll through some of the questions, "I want it to be the best question that's ever been asked."

"Ask your own, you're great at that."

You shook your head with furrowed brows at his comment, "Is that a compliment?"

"It was meant to be."

"Thanks, but no need, I've found one. Midoriya wants to know if raising two attention whores was hard. He didn't say ‘attention whores’ because he doesn't swear but that's the vibe."

"What's Midoriya's at?" Shota asked.

"SmallMight."

"Of course," the man grumbled, closing his eyes to think, "You two were honestly pretty easy to raise. Not a whole lot of fits compared to what I've heard other parents talk about. You both liked to talk a lot to each other, and, of course, to Hizashi and me. Not terribly difficult at all."

"Aww, I'm glad we didn't make you pull your hair out," you grin.

"Oh, you still did. Absolutely."

"Nice," you giggle before turning off your phone and facing the camera, "Okay guys, well, I hope you don't clown on me as much as usual because if you do, my dad will... I don't know… kick your ass."

"Exactly," Shota nodded, a horrific smile on his face, "I'll beam right into your living room."

"Hopefully you guys come back next week where I'll..." floundering for an answer, you turn to your dad as if he’d give you ideas, "Create wings to do it better than Icarus ever could."

Giving a singular stiff nod, Shota looked dead at the camera, "I'd watch it."

"You heard it from the main man himself, peeps," you waved to the camera, Shota copying the motion, “Bye!”

"If there's one comment about my eyebags, I'm never coming on your channel again," Shota lied as you leaned over to stop recording.

"They're gonna love you, I'm sure," you assure your father, "Wanna see how I edit?"

"God no, Hitoshi showed me how long it takes to edit his videos, it looks like hell."

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

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Delacroix, LA 2024

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One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival. 

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?” 

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.” 

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.” 

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed. 

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

[heavenbarnes]

PLEASE STAND BY: Love is strange

Wanda Maximoff x female reader

Warning/Contains: spoilers for “WandaVision”, aspects of mind-control meaning reader isn’t truly consenting, parts of this don’t make sense and are designed to make you feel strange, alcohol, arguments, cheating, kissing, oral sex (f!receiving), some good old fashioned 1950s gender rolls

Word Count: 3.8k

it was a given that i would be writing for wanda, but i never expected to get to do something so exciting, i really hope you all enjoy! it’s going to get sexy, get retro, and get creepy x

MASTERLIST

The day you met Mr. Vision at the end of your driveway, he was on his way to work in the early morning, you’d only spoken to him for a second but he seemed to draw a feeling from you that you hadn’t ever seen around here. He had to be the first man you’d spoken to in a while who wasn’t two-dimensional, he had to be the first neighbor you’d ever actually spoken to.

“We’ve only just moved in, how long have you been here?” He lent against your letterbox where you’d just been checking for mail, you’d seen the postman hanging around but he’d never dropped anything off for you.

“Well,” You thought on it for a moment, face going thoughtful as you tried to draw on the memory of first arriving in this town. “You know sometimes it feels like a lifetime and others it feels like barely any time has passed!”

He shared a chuckle with you, nodding in agreement at how strange a thing like time can be. “You live with your husband?”

“Yes, my husband James, we moved here once he’d returned from service.”

“Ah, and what does he do now?”

Again, your eyes narrowed and lips turned down slightly as you thought over what your husband did in a day. “Well he, you see-”

Thinking of it, your husband wakes in the morning and goes to work, he returns to your home cooked meal and you never really discuss it past that. “I’m not really too sure, he goes to his office and then he comes home.”

Mr. Vision reassures you with a shared chuckle, nodding at how strange a thing like work can be. “Sometimes I feel the same, and I’m the one doing the job!”

“Yes, I’m not too convinced that he doesn’t cease to exist once he leaves our home, at least till he comes back looking for food!”

Your laughter tapered off into sighs of agreement slowly, nodding quietly but both still overcome with even the slightest expressions of confusion, unable to shake that there just might be something you’re both missing.

It seemed to break quickly enough, smiles both back on your faces as you gave Mr. Vision the chance to continue his way to work. He called over his shoulder as he was leaving, “I’m sure my wife would like a new friend, you must go introduce yourself.”

Now, didn’t that sound like a dream.

Every day for you was like the one before and the next, you woke and you tidied and you cooked and went to bed. Sometimes it felt like you were a background character in someone’s life, like they were out doing the fun things you longed for whilst you milled about tending to a rosebush and kissing your husband on the cheek on your front porch.

There were also the, well simply the things you couldn’t explain. The way there was always food in your fridge despite the fact you’d never bought a single grocery, and the way-

The way that- the what? What were you talking about?

You shook your head with a smile, turning back into the house to freshen yourself for a moment. Your hair was perfectly set but you had the urge to tuck a piece behind your ear, straightening the skirt of your dress before going to the kitchen.

Taking some of the biscuits you’d made maybe a day ago, you lay them on a plate, before draping a tea towel across them. Carrying them down the street, you made your way to the Vision residence, gingerly bringing your hand to the door to wrap your knuckles against.

Mrs. Vision would be the first neighbor you really spoke to your whole time being here, what if she was like the others, didn’t wish to make pleasant conversation and enjoy company together. The fear seemed to break quickly enough as the door swung open.

Seeing her, it was like you were on stage and had forgotten your lines, she took all the breath out of your lungs. Round eyes that seemed to sparkle even in a town with the dullest hue, her cheeks drew up as she smiled at you. She looked like, well, a Vision.

“Good morning, can I help?”

Brought back to reality, you offered your plate of biscuits forward as you spoke. “Good morning, I live just down the street and met your husband this morning on his way to work this morning,” You smiled kindly to match her own expression. “So I thought I’d come say hello, Mrs. Vision.”

She stepped aside to allow you the chance to step into her beautiful home. “What a lovely surprise, and please, call me Wanda.”

Wanda was a wonderful host, dipping into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a tray of coffee. “Wow,” You remarked, taking the steaming cup from her hand. “It’s almost like you knew I was coming.”

She dropped an eye into a wink as she made her own cup. “A good housewife is always prepared.”

Wanda made things seem perfect, she made you laugh and she made you feel like you were truly a part of things. This town was lovely, you were very lucky to be where you are but everything did seem to be so black-and-white, like your whole life was written out before you with no chance to change.

You didn’t feel that way around this woman, it was like she was made from that wonderful energy that ran through this town, like she was capable of the change and excitement that you needed.

“Tell me about yourself, you have a husband?”

“Yes, James!” You smiled as you thought of him and all his loveliness. “He provides for us and is a real whizz at fixing the Television set when it gives me jiff.”

Wanda laughed as you took a sip from your coffee, it was the most perfect temperature and so rich as it ran across your tongue. You were beginning to think Wanda held a secret, the secret to being the most perfect housewife.

“And Mr. Vision, he seems really nice?”

She smiled fondly as she thought of her husband. “He is, a really great man, the kind you just couldn’t live without.”

A somewhat strange thing to say but you agreed with her nonetheless, you loved your James with the whole of your heart, you weren’t sure what you’d do if he was plucked from your grasp. Wanda continued, “But even then he does do some very “man” things.”

You gave her a small confused chuckle as she laughed along with you, shrugging her shoulders. “You know how they can be? So oblivious to things!”

Still not quite catching on, eyebrows furrowing just a tad as you implored her to elaborate a bit more. She threw one of her hands in the air, the other still holding her coffee as she spoke, “We could lay across the table in nothing but our shoes and they would still ask if we were putting dinner on it later!”

Your cheeks ran hot at her words, a hand coming to cover your mouth in shock as Wanda just laughed. She had to have been a truly modern woman to come up with things such as those, you couldn’t believe how she spoke, it was so...exciting?

“You know what I mean?” She asked, tilting her head gently.

You shook yours, thinking of your husband fondly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt, uh, neglected by him-”

Wanda was gently tapping a finger on her coffee cup, the sound being lost at the back of your mind as a thought suddenly overcame you. You most certainly wished your husband was more attentive, it was almost as if he didn’t notice you sometimes. Your tongue moved before you could control it.

“Some nights I think James is more interested in the sports section than he is in me, and I’m right beside him in our bed!” 

You couldn’t believe your own words, how you seemed to forget yourself in that moment. Beginning to apologize profusely, Wanda laid a hand against your own to calm you down. It worked like a treat, the embarrassment fading from you in an instant.

“Men have a way of doing that, don’t they?” She took your coffee and placed it with her own on the table. “Sometimes, we just need a bit of attention.”

Like you had no control over your own mind, you were nodding in agreement. Plucking up the courage to look Wanda in the eye, that heat that had settled in your cheeks had spread across your whole being. She looked so kind, so interested in you, like the only person to really see you this whole time.

The feelings that came over you were unexplainable, you’d felt this way but only looking at your husband, somehow those feelings were rearing their heads every time Wanda moved beside you. It became clear to you that she still hadn’t moved that hand that was resting on your skin, she was still gently holding you and you weren’t doing a thing to stop it.

“Look at us,” Wanda sighed, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. “All this free time on our hands, enough time for attention.”

Your eyes flickered from her touch, to her lips as she spoke. Drawing them up to her eyes, without her saying a word you just knew what she was implying.

“Mr. Vision, he wouldn’t mind?”

“He’s a good man, he wants me happy, I know he wouldn’t mind.”

“My James-”

“He loves you doesn’t he? Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely?”

The feeling of reassurance was warm as it cast over you, wrapped around your shoulders and held you tightly. James would want you happy, making friends, feeling cared for. Something told you that he’d want this for you, he’d be pleased for you.

Nodding gently, Wanda slowly bridged the gap as she lent in towards you. Her lips were so soft as they pressed to the plush of your own. Such a gentle kiss, unrushed with all the time in the world, just perfect. Her tongue nearly moved inside your mouth, but drew back at the last minute, another gentle kiss lay against your lips before she drew back.

“It’s getting late, we should carry this on another time.”

Looking at the clock on her wall, it was already the afternoon, your husband would be home soon and dinner wasn’t even on! You’d sworn you had only been here an hour, but you must’ve let time get away on you.

Wanda showed you to the door, a sweet kiss pressed against your cheek as she said her goodbyes. “I hope I get to see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course you can.” You quietly looked forward to tomorrow already, you didn’t have to say a thing but from the look in her eyes, Wanda knew.

As you placed the meatloaf on the table before James, you sat before him, knife and fork in hand as you felt the urge to tell him about your day. “I made friends with our new neighbors today.”

“I’m really happy for you, doll.” He smiled back at you, taking a single bite of his dinner.

“She really gets me, understands me,” You too took a single bite of the food. “She even gave me quite a lovely kiss.”

James didn’t really react, he placed his cutlery down and smiled kindly. “Did you enjoy it?”

Dabbing your lips with a napkin and pushing your plate forward you nodded. “I really did, I cannot wait to see her tomorrow.”

“That’s great news, my love,” He stood from the table, collecting your plates. “How about we hit the hay, it’s been a long day.”

You were about to nod in agreement before you furrowed your brow for a moment. “Has it?”

James stopped for a second, looking at your almost full plates before back to you. “I- yes, I think it has been.”

You stood from the table and came to press a kiss on your cheek. “Good idea, I’ll go draw back the bed covers.”

-

Sitting in the sunshine with Wanda, they had the most glorious outdoor area, beautiful roses surrounding the space with a cobbled courtyard. You both sipped at the lemonade she’d made earlier as you simply enjoyed each others company. 

That feeling of freedom was back to wash over you, the way she made you feel the most like yourself that you’d felt in some time. Sitting beside her on the lounger, you rolled your head towards her as she spoke, the cat eye sunglasses resting gentle on her button rose making her look like something out of a dream.

Your heart swelled as she spoke of nothing in particular, just happy to be around her and in good company, as she finished her sentence she let out a long draw of breath. Quietly, she took you in for a moment before tilting her glasses down a tad.

“Have you ever been with a woman before?”

“Never, James was my first,” You answered rather quickly before pausing. “I think.”

“Would you like me to show you what it’s like? How lovely it can be?”

You felt no hesitation, no doubt in your mind, you felt the words leaving your lips before Wanda had even finished her question. “Yes, please.”

Joining you on your lounger, she rested between your legs as her lips came to gently press to your own. She tasted of the lemonade and her own sweet taste, the way she moved against your mouth was enough to make you gasp into her mouth.

Her hands moved against your sides, gently tickling you and making just about every hair stand up on end. Wanda’s touch was nearly electric, so tantalizing and so new, unlike anything you’d felt. It was still so gentle and so loving, but there was something about what she knew, like it’d take you years to ever learn to do what she could. Like she was before her time.

Your head swirled with everything surrounding you, the pleasure, the excitement, the unknown. It was such a vulnerable position, laying beneath her as she moved down your body, pushing your skirt up your hips - yet it was almost as if you forgot to feel shame.

Maybe it was Wanda, when you were around her you were unable to feel embarrassment, she made everything feel so easy and so right, like you were always meant to end up here with her. She ran her touch along the skin of your thighs, making your breath jump as she brought her fingers to the high waistband of your underwear.

You allowed her to go wherever you wanted, you felt like you needed her all over you. Wanda was magnetic, pulled you in and captivated every one of your senses until you couldn’t stand it. You ran your hand along the side of her face as she smiled up at you, leaning into your touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” She bared her teeth as she spoke. “I’m so glad to have you here.”

The comment got lost in the air as her mouth lay against your most sensitive area, lips pursing against you as her tongue ran a long line along you. Your head pressed back into the cushions, a quite whimper escaping your lips as her tongue dove between your legs quickly.

Now this was nothing like you’d ever felt, the feeling was consuming, heat rising over your body and not just from the stream of sun that cast over the both of you. Wanda’s mouth worked expertly over you as your whole body tensed against her. She was magic, her mouth was magic, her touch was magic. 

You cooed her name, fingers slotting into her perfectly done hair, seemingly not even messing it a bit as you gently pulled. Wanda moaned against you, tongue diving further into you, trying ardently to pull all sounds and reactions out of you. 

Her hands ran up beneath your clothes, splaying across your belly and moving to the wire of your brassiere. You couldn’t remember the last time James touched you in this way, let alone a time ever where a woman had held you like this.

A woman’s touch was so gentle, it was so careful and so considered that it was enough to make your head spin. Wanda pulled you back in, mouth closing around that sensitive little bud that made your eyes roll back in your head. She suckled just enough to make you mewl, your chest rising so quickly with every ministration.

The feeling took over you so quickly, body locking up tight as she was sure to draw you straight to the edge and drive you crazy on the way there. Your eyes squeezed tight and you gripped Wanda’s shoulders, your mouth opening with a cry as you felt the tight band in your core snap.

She gently worked you down from your high, the flush of heat that had consumed you slowly dissipating as she sat up in front of you. Another sweet kiss against your mouth, gently and lovingly working against your lips.

“We should probably get ready, our men will be home soon.” She winked at you, the both of you giggling quietly to yourselves.

Sitting around the Vision’s dining table, the Steak Diane that Wanda had prepared looked incredibly inviting. James turned to Mr. Vision with a smile, “It’s very kind of you both to invite us to dinner.”

“We had to, after all our wives are getting along swimmingly.” He gestured to yourself and to Wanda, raising his wine glass without taking a sip.

You shared a coy look with Wanda, smiling and raising your brows as she chuckled, before the four of you picked up your cutlery to take a bite of the food. James finished his mouthful, turning to the lady of the house to make polite conversation as he placed his cutlery on his plate. “This was delicious, thank you.”

Agreeing as you finished your own mouthful, laying your napkin on the table, “Truly, Wanda, you are talented!”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling bashfully as she turned to her husband who hadn’t touched his. “Ah, just one of my little tricks.”

James turned to Mr. Vision with a smile, nodding towards their plates. “What is it with wives and being so talented in the kitchen?”

“You’re absolutely right,” He laughed in agreement before looking to you. “You like to cook?”

“I do rather, I’m forever at the stove making something new.” It was your turn to sport a bashful grin.

“What’s your favorite meal to make? Wanda is always whipping up some incredible creations.”

“I quite like meatloaf, I-” You stopped for a moment, turning slowly to your husband. “I make it every night.”

Unsure of why you’d expressed your love for making “something new”, it dawned on you that you made the same meal every evening without fail. James’ expression seemed to match yours, remembering the dinner that you’d had the night before, and the one before that.

A strange feeling tightened in your chest, unease, a feeling that you weren’t able to shake. You looked to Wanda, and the feeling only grew. You’d never seen her look like that before, it wasn’t a look of anger, but one of discontent.

Quickly turning away from her, you looked between her husband and your own. “I make the same dinner every night.” You repeated, shaking your head slightly.

Mr. Vision looked confused, turning to his wife and furrowing his brow at the look she was casting over the table. He darted back to you, before crossing his gaze to James. Wanda spoke up finally, “Well if that’s your favorite meal, you tend to do that, completely normal.”

She pushed her plate back, lifting her wine glass to her lips as she locked eyes with her husband. “Completely normal.”

“But every night?” Mr. Vision spoke up, eyes flickering back to your visible unease. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m just not feeling my self this moment.” You explained, fiddling with your napkin as your chest still felt just as heavy.

“It’s really okay, nothing to get upset over,” Wanda nearly snapped, just enough control over her voice. “Don’t fuss it, Vis.”

“We do have it every night,” James joined, looking to you with wide eyes. “The same meatloaf, the same sides-”

Wanda cut him off with a curt laugh, “It is just meatloaf, it really doesn’t need this much issue.”

“But, my love, it seems to be affecting them a bit more than-”

“Well, that is only because you won’t leave it alone!”

In the heat of the conversation, you tried to readjust your plate but the action cause your wine glass to tip, the red wine falling and spraying across James’ crisp white shirt.

“Oh my word, I am so sorry, I really have forgotten myself.” You rushed up to dab your napkin against his shirt but it was no use, it was only setting.

“What is going on here, Wanda?” Mr. Vision seemed less fazed about the spill and more about the previous conversation.

“Oh, Vision! Would you please just drop it and get Bucky a damp cloth!”

Your frantic hands stopped in an instant, eyes snapping open wide as your husband’s hand came to wrap around your wrist. Eyes darting up to his, you both shared a look of sudden and unbridled fear.

Slowly turning to look at Wanda, her expression had fallen and that same look of discontent was taking over her. You felt a pressure in your head, right behind your eyes as you looked from her and back to your husband. Realization set in as he gripped tighter onto you.

It was as if you couldn’t move, shouldn’t move. Everything had changed in that moment, this thread of perfect that ran through the whole town had unraveled right in front of you, right across the dinner table.

“Wanda,” You began, voice shaking only slightly despite yourself. “I think you need-”

“No,” She spoke once and it held the air of being final. “No, thank you.” 

James finished his mouthful, turning to the lady of the house to make polite conversation as he placed his cutlery on his plate. “This was delicious, thank you.”

Agreeing as you finished your own mouthful, laying your napkin on the table, “Truly, Wanda, you are talented!”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling bashfully as she turned to her husband who hadn’t touched his. “Ah, just one of my little tricks.”

-

“Did we get anything?”

“They were close, very close, but the scene seemed to reset itself and now all we have is this.”

The TV glowed bright with a slight crackle against it, the technicolor strips took over the space with a single black strip for the only words on screen. 

“PLEASE STAND BY.”

[demigodreading]

Saving Mini Benson Pt:1

Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus​:  Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?

Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this

Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)

Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)

And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.

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Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.

“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.

“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”

“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”

“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.

“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.

“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter.  I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.

Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N!  We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”

Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved. 

It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention. 

“Hello? Hello?”

As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”

Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”

Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.

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

Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.

After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”

When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”

“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”

“She knows, they always know.”

Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment. 

Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness. 

Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”

“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”

Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.

As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.

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

The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day. 

When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her. 

It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.

The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”

“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.

Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”

“And me cap?”

“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.

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

Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”

Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”

Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”

“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”

Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.

“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.

“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.

“How.. how did you know that we fought?

“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.

Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.

“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.

“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”

Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”

“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”

“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time. 

[strxwberrylemonxde]

Head empty only aizawa helping his s/o design his hero costume because he got tired of his old one

Eraserhead Revamped

Pairing: S. Aizawa x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: Very very tiny implied manga spoiler

Word Count: 0.85k

A/N - Oh yeah, this is definitely leading to another Aizawa brainrot skjd. Thank you so much for the request <33 I'm sorry this was kinda long 💀💀 I swear, I have no self-control when it comes to writing sometimes. I might change the title one day to something simpler though. This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy dear!!!

You were a pretty well-known costume developer in Japan

Along with helping Power Loader design student hero costumes at U.A, you also helped to design many pro-hero costumes as well

From those up in the top 10 to even some of your fellow co-workers, you’d made your way around the hero industry, creating versatile and well-suited costumes for just about every hero in Japan

Your sketchbook was filled from end to end with every design and redesign you could come up with

And you were constantly nose-deep in a page, sketching away from dusk till dawn

So you could imagine that when Aizawa married you, he married your sketchbook as well

It was the cutest thing to him really, watching the way you would crinkle your nose at designs you were unsure of, or the abrupt outbursts you had at the dinner table when you had a new idea

I’m telling you, mans is a whole simp, but he’s not ready to have that conversation yet

Aizawa always watched in wonder as you scribbled away

Like, if he could, he would probably just sit and watch you work all-day

Wait, I can just imagine him sitting next to you on the couch or something and your head is on his shoulder and he’s just watching you draw with a lazy smile on his face

And then maybe you would ask for his opinion on certain things every now and then 🥺

I promise this will come into play later

But as much as he likes watching you work, there are times where he would “misplace” your sketchbook so he could have some of your attention

Poor man just wants some cuddles every now and then

skdj anyway, it was relatively early in the morning and the two of you were getting ready for work

You, reading through new costume adjustment requests, and Aizawa preparing for another day with his beloved gremlins students

You watched keenly as your husband grabbed the final pieces of his hero costume, looking himself over in the mirror

This man looked so tired, and I’m not talking like sleepy tired, but more so a bored type of tired

If that makes sense??

You put your most recent sketch down and gingerly walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind

“Looks like someone is tired of their hero costume”

“Well, I suppose this one is getting old…”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell by the raggedy sleeves…”

“What?”

“Nothing dear~ I’ll see you after work!”

And so, the workday dragged on, and you had already started to accumulate some new ideas for a certain someone’s new hero outfit

By the time Aizawa got home, he found you curled on the couch with your dear ol’ sketchbook in hand

Without a word, he dragged himself to the living area and plopped down next to you, letting you cuddle up to him as you continued working

“And what are you working on this time honey?”

“Oh, nothing, a certain pro-hero with an erasure quirk was interested in a new hero costume, so I thought I’d help him out a bit…”

“I see, perhaps I can be of some assistance”

Please picture him smirking when he says this 😩

You start by altering his shirt and pants, going for something a little less baggy

“See, the bagginess of your clothes might weigh you down in a fight, hindering your dexterity and agility. Not to mention you would have a higher chance of it getting caught on something. Perhaps we could go for something less baggy and more fitting.”

“Hmm, I see. What did you have in mind?”

You suggested a corset

“😑”

“😃”

At this point, I think he’d rather spend the day with Bakugou and Midoriya instead

“Do you want to change your shoes as well?”

“Actually yeah, we could probably switch them out for something that can gain more traction, like combat boots perhaps?” Mans cannot be slipping in the field.

As far as his goggles went, you knew the amount of sentimental value they held, so you decided to keep it

“I know how important your goggles are to you, so I’ll keep them in this design as well”

His heart swelled at this and he pressed a kiss to your temple

In the end, he ended up suggesting a darker color for his goggles, which would make it especially harder for villains to spot his line of sight

As the hour ticked by, the two of you managed to add adjustments to his utility belt as well, making it slightly bigger using a lightweight material while deciding it be best to leave his capture weapon alone

“Andddd done! I’ll be sure to get this sent in for approval first thing in the morning!”

By the end of the night, Aizawa was left with a fuzzy feeling inside, and as the two of you lay in bed together, he couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life

[thefanficmonster]

Beyond Death

Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Death, Loss, Grief, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst

Summary: After fighting triumph over Lady Dimitrescu in her dragon/monster form, Ethan thinks he’ll have to face one last threat before leaving the castle but said threat happens to be nothing but a hollow ghost carrying a broken heart.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful and extremely heartbreaking request! So sorry that it’s taken me so long to write and post it but I still hope you’ll come across it and give it a read. If so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

It’s over. It’s finally fucking over.

Ethan Winters lets out a heavy but shaky sigh of relief that practically deflates him as though he had been holding it in - was holding it in during the entire duel against Lady Dimitrescu who is now nothing my an ashy corpse on the floor, leaving behind only a crystal sculpture to her name - the nine foot tall vampire lady that reigned over the village with a reputation stronger than the village’s actual ruler - Mother Miranda.

And now her and her daughters remain a memory - quite an unpleasant one - for the villagers, leaving one less Lord for them to fear yet remaining a figure they cower in fear just by thinking about her.

Pushing past the cloud of confusion, relief and disbelief, a soft sound that appears to be footsteps approaching reaches Ethan’s brain, kicking his heartbeat up and forcing him back into a fight-or-flight mindset. Of course he’s gonna choose fight, of course this fool is gonna see this all till the end.

But what if it’s not a fight the person approaching wants?

What if all they want is to have made it there a few minutes earlier?

What if they are no threat now and they never have been? What if that’s why the Dimitrescus kept them safe in the hidden chambers and quarters of their castle, places not even Alcina’s dear Miranda knew nothing about.

Y/N L/N Dimitrescu, Alcina’s one true love.

They were a neighbor of Alcina’s prior to the experimentation process. The two got along nicely - well, more than nicely. Pleasantly enough for Alcina to develop feelings for them along the way. Feelings that the pain and suffering of the experiments never managed to wipe away, ones that still resided with Alica even years later and only flared up stronger when Y/N recognized her on one of their ventures into the outskirts, near the Dimitrescu Castle.

“Alcina?“ They had said, their wide and confused eyes meeting the vampire’s terrified ones.

The typically fearless Lady Dimitrescu found herself at a loss of words, her throat dry, her stomach aching and her chest tight at the sight of the one last connection she has to humanity - her feelings for Y/N. But she was left on the fence, suffocated by the suspense of how Y/N would continue onward with the interaction. How they’d react to her drastic change? How they’d address her?

“Y/N...“ Their name was barely a shaky whisper on the tall woman’s lips, trembling hands clenched in tight fists to prevent from letting her emotions show.

“I missed you.“

That was what hit Alcina the strongest. That one single sentence had her assuming her true form - a pile of shard of the past, present and the many possible futures ahead. A pile of shards glued together with a weak glue threatening to give at any moment, collapsing the tough, graceful and untouchable façade of Alcina Dimitrescu. That’s how the woman knew she still had something human in her. Or rather with her as long as she had Y/N.

And so she kept them like a precious pearl in the palm of her hand and they never once neglected showing their gratitude for all she did for them. They never once hesitated to show their love and appreciation in return to all they received from her. But, the most important gift Alcina was keen on giving was the presence of her true self around Y/N. She never bothered with an act around them. Never lied, never put on a show. She was more human than ever around them. She was fragile, vulnerable, honest and bare before them. And they never made her feel any less than the feverous Lord she was despite her human side.

“It only makes you stronger.“ Y/N would say, referring to Alcina’s human side, “As a human myself, I can confirm we humans aren’t that bad and incompetent. Not all of us, at least. I remember you aren’t, that’s for sure.“

“Who are you?!“ Gun pointed at the pale figure moving barefoot across the room to crouch down next to the ashy corpse of Alcina Dimtrescu, Ethan can feel his blood starting to boil again. It’s not real fear but it’s most definitely a feeling of hostility fueled by massive adrenaline that seems to have taken complete control of him and has him in a death grip, leading him to do and say crap he normally wouldn’t. This behavior of his would be enough to get even Chris Redfield to take a step back but this person doesn’t seem to even acknowledge his presence let alone be intimidated by him.

Focusing their complete attention on the mess of crystals before them, they gently run their fingertips over the creature’s wing but sadly even their light touch manages to crumble a small bit of ash from it, the dust falling to the floor along with Y/N’s heart.

“Hey, answer me! Who the hell are you?! What are you doing here? Are you...are you like them? One of them?“ His voice becomes more and more uncertain, decreasing from an angry shout to a shaky whisper.

“You killed her. You took her from me.“ Is the response he eventually gets, spoken by a monotone flat voice that doesn’t go with Y/N’s appearance at all. Their eyes remain fixated on the tiny spot on the wing they touched seconds ago as if their gaze will bring it back to live.

Bring her back to them.

That on its own is enough to get Ethan to keep his mouth shut, gaining a vague idea of what’s going on here and who this person might be. What the deceased means to them. In his eyes, she was nothing but a monster, but in theirs, it’s obvious she was a lot more.

And so, when he approaches them and and tries to communicate with them one last time, he says and does the only thing he sees as even moderately right in this situation: he sets the crystal remains of Alcins Dimitrescu by their side. “Have this, I believe she’d want you to. It’s all that’s left of her that you can keep.“ He knows their face is emotionless and still but something about that stillness is the exact reason why he doesn’t want to look at them while he says those words. He can’t find it in himself to apologize, not that an apology would help him much in this situation anyway, so all he can attempt is pointless. All that matters to them is gone - that’s the price of him gaining a stronger chance at getting his daughter back before it’s too late. 

And just like that, without another word, the blonde man walks out of the castle, leaving the broken heart and soul that used to be a complete human being behind him. A complete human being in love with someone extraordinary. Their love for her knew no bounds, and not even death as they sit there by their lover’s remains, refusing to leave their side even when they are not both present in this world.

A lover’s true love and devotion is shown when tested - unfortunately, Y/N and Alcina’s love was faced with the ultimate test: death. And it hasn’t faltered, nor will it ever as it seems.