#tried to imagine a world without maria. failed

[astystole]

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WONDERFUL, MY LOVELY, BABY GABSY 💗 love you so soooo very much 🥹 look look its us, it's us!!

ITS ME AND MY FUCKED UP ARM!!!!!

[elleloquently]

the wretched and joyful [ 2 ] : ellie williams

ellie williams x female reader | eventual angst + slowburn

───⋆☆ But we don't have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting - I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning ♪

───⋆☆ I'm trying to be cool about it, Feelin' like an absolute fool about it Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it - Tellin' myself I can always do without it, Knowin' that it probably isn't true ♪

| a/n - part two!! tags are at the bottom, let me know if u wanna be added! if you enjoyed reading, please considering reblogging/leaving a comment <3 thank you! | c/w - swearing, vague depictions of anxiety.. reader is in love with her best friend idk what to tell you!!

nearly everything that belonged to you used to belong to someone else. that's just the way things were.

you tried to find the thought comforting, but it really felt haunting.

when you moved into your house in jackson, it was like a still life museum. you couldn't help but try to imagine who lived there first, before the world went to shit. you tried to imagine what their daily life was like. how scared they must've been when...

it made you feel like you were living in a haunted house, and you were scared of ghosts.

maria was kind enough to set you up with some things that she thought you would like, but it still felt like you were living somewhere that you didn't belong.

the house felt like it was full of ghosts, so you rearranged and redecorated until it finally felt like your own.

years later, after a lot of trading and sorting through items ellie might find on patrol, you were actually pretty proud of the space that you presented for yourself. adeline once joked that you seemed to have a taste for "the frills," but you didn't mind.

you liked girly things, things that you could keep in secret and feel pretty without worrying about whether or not you seemed tough enough.

ellie had her comics, and you had your own things too.

your guilty pleasure was old magazines, filled with toxic drama, interior design tips, and how to's for all of your accessorizing needs. the pages were cheap and worn but good enough. the silly quizzes were the best part.

you liked pretending. pretending to live in that world instead of this one, wishing you could've been a girl picking out nail polish to match her outfits and deciding which color scheme suited her best. it flooded your senses with longing and never failed to give you a pit in your stomach.

it was like some kind of morbid obsession, wishing for better than what you had.

you didn't really talk about it, especially with ellie. you already knew how she felt about that sort of thing. besides, it made you feel weak. she just knew that you liked silly magazines, and would bring you them without a second thought if she had ever managed to find one.

jesse was actually the first to help you build your little collection. dina had found one on patrol, and brought it back so you could all laugh at the ridiculous headlines. when everything was winding down and you sheepishly asked if you could keep it, jesse seemed to take note.

besides ellie, jesse was one of your closest friends. he was a little more understanding to the sensitive side of you, which you appreciated. you hated feeling like you had to defend every little thought or feeling, to prove you weren't weak.

you'd been spending more time together as of late, especially since his patrol schedule was pretty much opposite of dina's.

you hated when they fought, always over something small and immature and it left you feeling like a child stuck in the middle. any group hangouts were typically reserved for when dina and jesse were on - so according to the news you had received from ellie, things were looking up.

when a knock at your door earned your attention, you jumped to answer it right away. you already knew who you were expecting.

"morning," you grinned as you held the door open. "are you coming in or am i coming out?" you wore shoes just in case, standing in the doorway.

"you're coming out," jesse replied, wearing a light jacket that he would most likely shed later. summer would be here soon, and the change in weather was certainly improving the mood of everyone in jackson.

you nodded once and tugged a sweater over your arms, closing the door behind you as you stepped outside. you loved mornings like this, warm and peaceful. it felt full of promise.

"where to?" you questioned, allowing jesse to take the lead. he grinned when he replied.

"the stables. hope you're not wearing your best clothes."

you scowled but only as a joke. you weren't wearing your "best" anything but even if you were, it wouldn't have mattered.

"you know i never mind," you chirped, bumping jesse's arm. "how come?"

"we're training more people for patrol so we might need more help in the stables for a bit. think you're willing to give an extra hand when you aren't wrangling the children?" jesse asked, raising an eyebrow as the corners of his lips turned upward.

there was somewhat of a school in jackson, and during the week you helped out with the younger kids. there weren't many, but enough so that they were glad to have your help.

"i would love to help," you said honestly, and jesse's smile turned sly.

"i know that," he replied. "that's why i already signed you up."

you snorted, rolling your eyes at his confident response. "whatever. i would've helped regardless, anytime."

"i know," jesse repeated. "thanks, kid."

this made you roll your eyes again, scoffing. there was barely even an age difference.

"you sound like joel." you wrinkled your nose, tilting your head. "all of you patrol people have such a complex," you grumbled, trying your very best not to smile.

"yeah, yeah." jesse slung an arm over your shoulders, causing you to gasp at the audacity. "you love us."

"us?" you questioned, falling into step with him.

jesse couldn't contain the shit-eating grin that plastered itself onto his face. "us. me, dina... ellie."

you laughed once, loud and embarrassed.

"you're so full of it," you replied, stepping out from under his arm.

"what? what did i say?"

"you're not funny. besides, i'm actually very upset with you," you confessed, staring down at your shoes while you walked.

your shift in tone was enough to concern jesse, and he almost seemed bewildered as he questioned you.

"what? why? what did i do?" he slowed his pace, waiting for you to respond.

you waited just a moment to linger it over his head before grabbing his arm, shaking it while you bounced on your feet like an excited child.

"for not telling me that you have a girlfriend!" you gushed, causing jesse to roll his eyes and quickly walk away from you.

"what's her name? what does she look like? is she gonna meet your family?" you continued on as jesse swatted at you. "you know i had to find out from ellie?"

"you're ridiculous," jesse grumbled.

"and you're keeping things from me?" you were really playing it up, finding satisfaction in the way he shook his head.

"you know, you're not funny," jesse mocked.

you laughed, catching back up with him. "really though, is everything all good?"

a small smile slipped in the place of jesse's scowl. "all good," he confirmed softly.

jesse seemed content so you let that be enough, finishing your walk to the stables in peaceful silence.

you didn't need much instruction since you were already quite familiar with the tasks. instead, it was mostly jesse explaining which horses would be in and out and when. you carried on with some light maintenance, chatting through each chore. jesse didn't really need to stay and help, but you appreciated the conversation.

"so," you started, placing a bucket of supplies on the ground. "what're we doing tonight?"

"huh?" jesse huffed, looking uncharacteristically caught off guard.

"the four of us," you clarified, brushing your palms on your pants. "i figured since things were cool again that we could finally hang out," you explained, though your use of finally might've been a bit overdramatic. jesse and dina were broken up for about a week, which meant a week of splitting your time between the two of them.

though lately you've been seeing less of dina, maybe because of her and ellie having plans or similar schedules.

"oh!" jesse exclaimed, the sudden loudness catching you off guard. "right. well, you know," jesse stammered.

you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to put together a coherent sentence that wasn't just him shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.

"you know," he repeated, even though you obviously didn't. "dina and i just thought that maybe... it would just be the two of us tonight. to um," jesse coughed. "catch up?"

you nodded silently, eyes wide with embarrassment. "of course!" you choked out, desperately wanting to save jesse from any more you know's and awkward stammering.

"hey, maybe tomorrow night," jesse offered, awkwardly clapping you on the shoulder. "you'll still hang with ellie, right?"

you nodded again, kicking your shoe against the ground.

you hoped that ellie would want to see you again, even though you just slept over. the matter wouldn't usually even be a factor, but you felt different lately. a little weird, like you were bothering her too much or something.

"for sure," you muttered, tossing a rag into the bucket with a clang.

jesse was quick to catch your change in tone.

"did something happen?" he questioned, leaning against a stable door.

his question felt like an assumption and you found yourself growing insecure as if everyone had noticed that something was different too.

you wanted to confide in him, you should've confided in him, about how ellie could be so hot and cold and was it normal to get stomach aches whenever you were around her?

instead, you forced out a short laugh and shook your head.

"'course not. she'll probably just sleep after she gets back."

jesse studied you briefly before kicking his weight off of the door, brushing his hands together.

"right. well, dina will probably be back soon so i should..."

"go on," you grinned, waving him away.

"you wanna come with?" jesse offered, knowing ellie would be returning as well.

"i actually think i'll stick around here. for... a little bit," you responded shyly, but jesse already knew why. "go on," you encouraged. "go!"

you watched as jesse walked away, casual at first but his stride turned into a sprint when he turned the corner, assuming he was out of view.

you laughed to yourself, standing awkwardly in the now empty stable. ellie would show up soon enough, which was good. you wanted a chance to talk to her. you were starting to feel pretty weird about how often you slept in her bed while she left for patrol in the morning.

you waited around a bit, standing awkwardly in the middle of the stables until you started to feel stupid and instead made yourself look busy. you rearranged some cleaning supplies in the buckets, and even wiped stall doors that you had already cleaned, just to look busy.

of course, ellie didn't appear until you were seemingly making small talk with a horse in the stable.

"-like it better when the weather is warm, right?"

ellie snorted, the sound cutting through the otherwise silent atmosphere that was only filled by your own chattering and the occasional horse sigh.

"who are you talking to?" ellie questioned, her tone lazy and amused.

ellie already knew, of course, but the startled look on your face was priceless.

"how was patrol?" you asked awkwardly. ellie led shimmer into the stables as you spoke.

"uneventful," ellie answered simply.

"that's good, right?" you asked, coming up to pet shimmer as she was being placed into her stall.

"uh, yeah, i guess," ellie shrugged, her tone sounding distant.

you deflated, just a little. maybe she needed some space.

"i'm gonna... get going," you announced, a little quieter than you intended but you had found your footing by the end of the sentence. finally, ellie turned and looked at you.

"what? you've been hanging around but now all of a sudden i'm here, and you're leaving?" ellie questioned, her eyebrows pinching together.

"just don't wanna be in the way," you replied, not knowing if you should take a step closer or a step further away.

"please," ellie huffed. you weren't sure if it was kind or insulting.

please like you're always in the way and don't seem to mind, or please like you're never in the way?

you opened your mouth, almost to ask for clarification, but the thought alone made your cheeks burn.

"i'm serious," you said instead, but didn't make any effort actually leave.

“of course you are,” ellie said, rolling her eyes. you caught the hint of a smile on her face though, just before she turned her back to you.

silent minutes ticked by while ellie was busy, and it was only awkward because you truly couldn't decide if you should just leave or stay. after the hesitation it seemed quite obvious that you would stay, but the dilemma made your face grow hot anyway. when did you start overthinking your interactions with ellie so much??

you really didn't want things with ellie to start being complicated, everything else was already complicated enough.

who was at fault, anyway? or was it simply nothing other than growing restless as the days grew longer?

your thoughts did a better job of occupying you than you had expected, because ellie blinked at you, unmoving.

"are you coming or what?" she asked, with that same unreadable tone that she seemed to love using lately.

you blinked. then nodded.

is this how things were going to be now? is this how they always were, you were only just now noticing?

you almost physically shook your head at the thought.

"coming where?" you asked instead.

ellie shrugged, something like a smile twitching at her lips.

you couldn't tell if she was trying to force a smile, or hide a real one and what the fuck, when did you start having so much trouble reading her?

"we could see joel," you suggested, trying to sound more upbeat than you had felt. you were in such a good mood yesterday, where did it go?

ellie raised her eyebrows at you.

"it's been a long time since we all had dinner together, just the three of us," you said nonchalantly, not wanting it to sound like a hint.

"yeah, well," ellie muttered, her gaze dropping to the ground. "a bit early for dinner, don't you think?"

"that's not really the point, but okay," you dismissed.

"what is the point then?" ellie asked, her voice suddenly more loud and pointed compared to just a few seconds ago.

the immediate switch in her demeanor caused your eyebrows to pinch together. "i thought you were.. doing better?"

the look on ellie's face was all of the confirmation that you had needed. it was the kind of expression that made you feel guilty for even bringing it up.

"sorry. i just thought.. you know, the boots," you practically stammered, not wanting ellie to be annoyed with you.

"'just being nice," ellie replied tightly, to which you nodded solemnly in return.

"forget it then. sorry. i shouldn't have mentioned it," you spoke, wiping your palms on your pants.

the fight, or, whatever it was that happened between ellie and joel was possibly the biggest and only secret that ellie had ever kept from you, to your knowledge. she was so frustratingly vague about it, skating around answers and reasons as to why joel didn't seem like her joel anymore.

they were friendlier now, more so than right after it had happened, but still it felt strained. it had practically happened overnight, much to the confusion of nearly everyone around the two, and things were still not back to the way in which they used to be.

you missed the dinners.

truthfully, you still had dinner with joel occasionally. you weren't sure if ellie knew, but you had never mentioned it to her.

considering, ellie wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

"forget it," ellie repeated quietly. for a moment, she looked kind of awkward, like she was trying to think of something else to say.

it actually sort of made you feel better.

the silence that followed lingered, but not too long, making it possible to recover from.

"let's just get out of here," ellie mumbled, so quietly that you nearly missed it. she began walking without even glancing back at you, surely assuming that you would just follow.

and you did.

you almost tripped over your own feet when you realized how seamlessly you would follow her without another word. it was dangerous, nearly.

"we could go to tipsy?" you suggested lightly, trying to catch up to ellie so it didn't seem as though you were trailing after her.

at your suggestion, ellie snorted.

"what, tough day or something? it's the afternoon," ellie denied, and you were simply grateful that the lighthearted teasing tone had returned to her voice.

"maybe another time. jesse and dina could come, we could make it a thing."

ellie raised an eyebrow, peering sideways at you as your lazy steps fell into sync.

"a thing," ellie repeated softly, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

"is something wrong with that?" you questioned, squinting your eyes as the bright sun invaded your sightline.

"huh? no. just cute the way you always try to like... i don't know, make an event out of things," ellie explained.

your cheeks warmed, but the guise of the heat helped it to go unnoticed.

cute.

you didn't want ellie's words to linger, so you scrambled fast.

"hey, i still need to debut my new skirt, right?" you managed.

"that you do," ellie sighed. "or you could just- i don't know, hear me out.. just, put it on?"

you frowned at her teasing, even though it made your heart swell with affection. "that's boring, ellie. don't you know me at all?"

"best of all, actually," ellie retorted. you opened your mouth to fire back a reply, but nothing came.

ellie was right usually, always, when it came to you. she knew you better than anyone. in the world that you lived in, it was practically the best gift that you could give to someone that you cared for. vulnerability, loyalty. the ability to trust and be trusted. being known and feeling seen was like a reward.

sure, jackson was your home. but you weren't sure how much it truly would feel like home if ellie wasn't there.

it was funny, sometimes you had forgotten that you hadn't actually known ellie your whole life.

sometimes, you pathetically wondered what things might've been like if you had known ellie forever.

a few years ago, when ellie was prone to more laughter, she would tell fabricated stories about your friendship if you had met before. you would never forget the look on her face the first time that you had confided in her about the mistreatment from the QZ crowd.

"i would've fucked 'em up," ellie said solemnly, causing you to laugh in disbelief.

"what? ellie, i was... thirteen. you would've been too."

"yeah, and? i would've fucked them up. and then..-"

she would continue until you were in a fit of giggles, wheezing through laughter.

neither of you had much of a childhood, but ellie had some lucky moments. your time together though, it almost felt healing. despite everything.

"i know," you said finally, falling short of thinking up a witty response.

"you don't need to make any stops today, do you?" ellie questioned suddenly.

an evident look of confusion crossed your face as you answered. "hm? you mean addie? no, why?"

"just wondering," ellie grumbled, and your lips twisted into a teasing smile.

"why do you get so weird about her?" you questioned, closing your fingers around her wrist to keep her walking pace in tune with your own.

"i don't get weird," ellie disagreed, her tone bordering on childish. "i just feel like she's always judging me or something."

"judging you?" you laughed, the sudden loudness cutting through the hazy, quiet afternoon of jackson. "ellie, adeline does not judge you."

"she looks at me funny," ellie complained, wrinkling her nose.

"she does not!" you released your hold on ellie's wrist, limply wacking her arm instead. ellie only reacted by rolling her eyes.

"besides, if she looks at you funny, she probably has a reason for it," you contemplated with a click of your tongue.

"what? what did i do?" ellie questioned, her cheeks turning red.

you laughed again, loud, causing ellie to reach over and shove your side. you only momentarily stumbled, the clumsy reaction not halting your laughter.

"whatever. see you later," ellie grumbled, making no effort to walk ahead of you.

"okay, see you later," you chirped, settling your giggles but the aftermath still made your cheeks sting. ellie glanced at you quickly, and you could tell that she was wondering if you were actually going to leave.

your hand accidentally brushed against ellie's and you moved to put some distance between your bodies, ignoring the way that it sent jolts through your body.

"are you gonna stay again?" ellie asked, her tone sounding a little too forced to be nonchalant, but the attempt was there.

"at yours? sure. i feel like i haven't slept in my own bed in ages," you responded.

"you don't have to come," ellie said simply.

"no, it's not a bad thing," you clarified. really, it wasn't.

"i could come to yours?" ellie asked, a look crossing her face that you couldn't quite depict, almost like she had remembered something. maybe she didn't want to risk a run in with joel, as your dinner comment had unsettled her.

"only if you want," you shrugged.

"just let me grab some stuff first," ellie told you, to which you silently obliged with a nod of your head.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"you're... okay, you're doing it wrong." ellie's snappy tone caused you to huff.

"i'm doing exactly what you said."

"no, you're not listening."

"you're not explaining!"

ellie rolled her eyes, moving to sit closer to you on the floor.

"your fingers are supposed to stay down, right here," ellie delicately pressed your fingers into place as you hold her guitar. you have to swallow hard, willing yourself not to react to her touch.

"one finger per fret, like this," ellie explains, her voice softer as she regained her patience.

"you know i'm never gonna be good at this," you complained, letting your fingers go limp under ellie's pressure.

"then why do you keep saying that you want to learn?" ellie questioned, sitting back and dropping her hands to her lap.

"because i want to be good at it," you sighed. you stretched your arms, handing the guitar to ellie. "it wouldn't be the same anyway. i just like when you play for me."

ellie's cheeks go crimson. "shut up."

she strummed anyway, showing you how the song that you were 'attempting' to learn was supposed to sound.

you leaned your back against the side of your bed, the wooden floor beneath you providing little comfort. ellie explained chords as the dreamlike sounds filled your bedroom. you listened intently, more focused on the sound of ellie's voice than the actual information that it was providing.

you spend a lot of nights like this, being the only two people in the world, the moon being your only light until you fall asleep.

your curtains, dingy and laced, were drawn back purposefully for that very reason, you had admired the late sunset as the moon finally began to peek its way into the night sky.

the moon, the sound of ellie's voice, the feeling of your surroundings seeming slightly fuzzy from how tired you were.. you wished you could bottle up these moments and keep them forever.

in these moments, when you watched her, your feelings seemed clear as day. ellie's eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the way her fingers seemed to strum effortlessly on the guitar, the little strands of hair that kept escaping her bun and falling into her face.

surely you loved her. there was simply no other way around it.

when it was dark, you could think it over and over.

i think i love her. i really think i might love her. it would make your pulse quicken and your insides explode, but the thought was fathomable. for some reason though, during the day, it couldn't even be a question. you would deny it. you wouldn't even allow the thought to slip into your mind as long as you could help it.

you really, truly weren't sure why it made such a big difference.

"i love it," you murmured, referring to the song that ellie was playing.

"i remember," ellie replied, feeling the need to whisper though she wasn't exactly sure why. "it's why i learned it, anyway."

ellie said it so simply, so casually, that you wouldn't have given it a second thought until you noticed the way that she refused to meet your gaze, even after she stopped playing.

"maybe i will be good at it one day," you hummed.

"maybe," ellie snorted. "if you ever get any patience."

"says you," you replied with a frown. "i'm super patient," you argued, but you had a hard time believing your own words. not that you were determined to change ellie's mind, anyway. your thoughts were elsewhere.

"maybe," ellie mumbled suddenly, catching you slightly off guard. you slip off into your own thoughts entirely too easily. "if you're always with those kids. i couldn't fucking stand it."

"i guess that's true. it just feels.. different? i don't know." your slight laugh turns into a yawn as you shake your head. "jesse told me you guys are trying to put more people on patrol?"

ellie nodded, rolling her eyes. "yeah. 'been a pain in the ass, that's for sure."

"that bad, huh?" you questioned, toying with the hem of your cardigan that you had thrown over your pajamas.

"i'm just.. i don't like the teaching stuff. i just want to get it done, you know?"

you nodded, and wondered if that's why ellie has seemed more exhausted than usual. "i get it. you can't blame maria for pairing people with you, though."

"i wish she wouldn't."

"yeah, but ellie, you're one of the best. you know that."

ellie shook her head, causing more strands of hair to frame her face. you could've laughed at her dedication to leaving the few strands still pulled back in a bun, instead of just taking it out entirely.

"maybe i should sign up," you said, partly joking. "finally give patrol a real try.

"no," ellie responded firmly, a little too quickly. you had only been kidding, you knew you would be no good, but regardless her reaction was a little much.

"why not?"

"because you can't.. you're not.. it's just, not your thing, alright?" ellie huffed.

you crossed your arms and wanted to be offended but ellie was right. you were no good for it. still, you rolled your eyes and refused to make eye contact until your name slipped from ellie's lips like an apology.

"just forget it, alright?" ellie pleaded, her voice regaining its softness.

you looked at her, the lighting was dim but your eyes were adjusted to the dark that had fallen over the room. she felt the most familiar like this, like your ellie.

ellie was softer in the moonlight. maybe she felt more like herself in it, too. the way she looked now - messy hair, pink cheeks, almost gave you a dreamlike feeling as if you could spill your guts to her and everything would be fine.

"alright," you murmured, allowing your eyes to lock with ellie's green ones. the darkness was safe, you wouldn't shy under her gaze. you were brave. "i was only kidding anyway. and i know that you only said no because you know that i would be the best at patrol and steal your crown."

"okay, you need to go to sleep," ellie replied simply. she stood from the floor, stretching and fidgeting with her hoodie.

"you hate when i have fun," you mumbled bitterly as ellie crossed to your window, closing the curtains. they didn't provide much coverage, but the room was suddenly consumed with less light than before.

"you hate when i'm right." ellie reached her hand down to you, and you allowed yourself to be pulled up from the floor. ellie pulled back the bedding as you discarded your cardigan onto the floor.

there was a couch in the living room. plenty of blankets and pillows for a comfortable enough spot on the floor. sharing the bed was never a discussion, you just did. you never really considered otherwise. it didn't really seem like ellie ever did either. if she did, she didn't show it.

you tried to swallow your feelings as you slid into bed next to ellie, wondering if it was normal to always share a bed like this. wondering if it was normal to always overthink it.

"if i threw my sweater on the ground like that, you would be pissed at me," ellie remarked. you could hear the smile in her tone.

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at her exaggeration, and you hoped that she could see it. "bullshit, i would not."

despite your tone, you wanted nothing more than to reach out and swipe away the strands of hair covering ellie's face.

you honestly could have. you knew ellie wouldn't have minded, not in the privacy of your dim room. you would have, but it felt wrong if your feelings weren't purely platonic. you couldn't live in denial forever, at least not when it came to your feelings for ellie.

"liar," ellie mumbled, leaning on her arm. the proximity was daunting.

you couldn't do anything but shake your head. you certainly liked to keep a tidy space, not much like ellie, but you didn't mind her stuff around your room one bit.

"huh, that's what i thought," ellie said with a satisfied huff, as if your silence could be taken as agreement.

your brows furrowed instantly. surely she could read your expression.

"quit it," you sighed. "you're making things up. and being difficult," you added.

ellie shook her head, the remnants of her bun bobbing around the back of her neck.

"don't know what to tell you babe," she replied, the sarcasm in her voice prompting an eye roll from you.

"shut up and go to sleep," you complained, picking up your pillow and tossing it over her face.

"ow, what the hell?" ellie whined. she was genuinely making a fuss and you laughed plainly at her. maybe she really hadn't changed that much over the years. at least not when it was just the two of you.

"don't say ow. pillows don't hurt," you said simply. your lack of concern made ellie's jaw drop as she leaned forward and twisted to the side, looking over you as you rested your back against the soft mattress.

ellie was practically looming over you. you stifled a nervous giggle but didn't bother tearing your eyes away from ellie's.

she stared at you for a moment, any hint of a joke on her face quickly leaving. ellie looked like she was going to say something at first, but maybe she had forgotten or changed her mind because she only remained silent as if she were studying you.

the steadiness of her gaze began to make you uncomfortable as nerves swirled around your stomach. ellie's eyes flickered over your face, and you would've done anything to read her mind. was she actually annoyed or was it something else? ellie's lips parted slightly and your breath hitched, guilty once again for the thoughts clouding your mind.

you sat up to break the tension, say a stupid joke maybe, but you moved too quickly and your face was too close to ellie's now. before you had a moment to feel embarrassed, ellie pressed a palm to your chest and promptly shoved you back down. you fell back against the bed with a huff.

the moment of whatever it was was quickly erased as ellie tore her gaze away from you and settled back into her spot.

you didn't speak again and neither did ellie. she simply handed you your pillow and turned on her side, putting her back to you. you remained still for too long, trying desperately to settle your breathing.

you held a heavy hand over your chest, pressing down firmly as you attempted to set your mind straight.

thoughts of just friends, don't fuck up- plagued your mind for only what you could've assumed to be hours on end.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you left ellie alone in your bed that morning.

you tried not to wonder how it would make her feel as you pulled on your cardigan from the floor and tip toed out of the room.

she must've been exhausted.

the mornings were still cold before the sunshine had a chance to warm up the earth around you, so you walked quickly through the quiet streets of jackson.

there were some people, of course, out and about, but not quite as often as usual considering it was the weekend.

you were lucky.

you were lucky to know ellie and lucky to have ellie. that could be enough. you never wanted to lose her, so you could never do anything that would cause you to lose her. you were lucky, and you would be happy to swallow your feelings and keep a secret as long as it resulted in your friendship always remaining.

your hands balled into fists at your sides, mentally pushing away any stray, worrying thoughts.

"where are you goin' all dressed up this morning?"

you halted at the familiar voice, your cheeks sheepishly growing warm at the teasing. regardless, your smile was genuine.

"to dina's, i think," you replied, turning to meet tommy. you looked down at your pajama pants and top, realizing the cardigan didn't disguise it as much as you had hoped.

tommy had been the first person to ever give you a break. even though you were already a teenager when they brought you into jackson, tommy and joel practically raised you up more than anybody else ever had. with adeline hollis included, they were the closest thing to family you ever had.

"everything alright?" he questioned, frown lines deepening.

"of course, why?" you responded, squinting curiously at the older man.

"oh, nothin'. just, ellie isn't with you is all."

you swallowed hard, swatting at the air to distract from the fact that your smile had tightened. "she's sleeping!" then, for good measure, you changed the subject. "are you getting back from patrol?"

"yes ma'am," tommy replied in a way that drew a laugh out of you.

"you better go get some sleep too then," you warned, and he waved you away.

"go on, get outta here," tommy gruffed, sending you on your way.

your steps were more hurried now and you bounced nervously on your feet when you reached dina's front door.

you figured it was your best bet.

you knocked three times, and you only had to wait a few moments before the door creaked open an inch.

"hey honey, what's the matter?" dina inquired, eyebrows rising in concern as she looked at you.

you noticeably deflated. "what? why does everybody keep asking me that?" you laughed, and it sounded a little too forced. "i'm fine!"

dina scanned your features but visibly relaxed at your words, opening the door wider. "what's up then?"

"i was wondering if- hi jesse," you cut yourself off as his figure appeared in the doorway.

"is everything okay?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on dina's shoulder.

you groaned, causing a look of bewilderment to cross jesse's face.

"she's fine," dina murmured, offering you a small smile.

"i just wanted to ask if you guys wanted to go to the tipsy bison. with me. and ellie, probably." you offered, clasping your hands together in front of you.

"it's pretty early, i don't think seth would even- ow!"

dina cut jesse off with a jab. "when?" she asked, which pleased you very much.

"meet at sunset?" you suggested hopefully, eyes darting between the couple.

you were thrilled when they agreed. of course, they had said, and you left them to enjoy their morning.

on your walk back to your house, you forced yourself to breathe steady. ellie would probably be awake, and that was fine. you were friends, and that was fine. lucky. the best gift you could ask for.

you plastered a smile on your face, swallowing down every negative feeling and emotion.

you were in a good mood. you had to be.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

tags :

@dinoastronaut @skylerwhitwyo @muthafuckingstargirl @minustwofingers @mirrorballels @macaroni676

[a-spes]

I litteraly can't stop thinking about this post from @whumped-by-glitter ~ Like, can we (please) take a minute to think about how perfect it's for Wandanat or BlackHill x young!R where they take her out of the Red Room?? | Warnings & Tags : messy blurb? (imagine? idk, just wanting to share my thoughts, and couldn't stop writing), mainly BlackHill, mentions of the Red Room/past abuses, no idea if that makes sense. Imagine, teen or young adult R that fails a mission, and is captured by SHIELD/The Avengers. R isn't really cooperative, even if she is not under mind control anymore, she firmly believes that. However, Nat just can't accept the idea of leaving her rotting in a cell for the rest of her life for something that isn't really her fault. Despite what R can say, Natasha wants to believe that it's not true, and that she will be able to show her that life is way more than the Red Room.

But it's not that easy. Nat more than anyone else knows that you don't come back from the Red Room that easily, and she can only assumes that it would be worst for someone that went under mind control. And she was right. At first, she tried to introduce you to how life outside is, how sweet it could be, but she quickly noticed that it didn't work. Whenever she asks you a question about what you would like, she gets no answer. If she doesn't tell you to eat or to go somewhere, you don't do it. The amount of time you didn't followed her or talked because she didn't especially told you to do so is insane, especially in the beginning. So she decides to do what she thinks it's best, even if she hates it: giving you order, being stern with you, offering you a place you know, where you feel safe (no matter how sick it's) because you can predict it, a space where you'll be fine as long as you do as your ask. The world is a big and scary place in which to evolve in, especially when you don't have the keys to understand it - what you do something you're not supposed to, and you're punished for that? R will eventually come here, but it'll definitely takes a lot of time.

But obvsiouly Nat' is hating herself for that. She knows she has to do it, for you, but it doesn't make it easier. She does it because she believes it will help you to feel better, and because if you're under her orders, they have less reasons to be worried that you would attend something under Dreykov's name (or try to go back to him). She feels guilty, and old thoughts about her not being better than the man that made them are coming back. But Maria/Wands are here to help their wife <3

AND SO, here is how I see things if it's WandaNat we're talking about - I picture Wands as the soft mom she is shown as in Wandavision, and she would definitely not appreciate Nat's methods. She trusts her wife, she knows that she has her reasons, and it must be the best way to help you, but she still doesn't like it. She hates the way you always look down, the way you would do everything her wife is asking without thinking twice about it, and most of it, she hates when you're calling Nat' "ma'am" or something else of that kind. She hates even more than her wife isn't saying anything. She didn't know you for long, but she already loves you as her own, and it pains her when you reject her. Sometimes, she and Nat would argue about the whole situation (and those arguments would definitely go too far).

BUT imagine if it's BlackHill?? Even better in my opinion, and definitely can't stop thinking about it ~ Because, unlike Wanda, Maria is directly concerned. She read your file, she saw footages of you killing dozens of people, she tracked you, lost men in the process, and she saw how you didn't seem to regret anything when she questioned you. So Maria has every reasons to be worried, especially for her wife's security (physically and mentally). What if it's just a part of a biggest plan to attempt to kill the redhead? Or worst, to take her back there? I can easily Maria being upset, and taking it out on the other recruit she is training (poor them), not daring to do much more than glaring at you, knowing her wife wouldn't appreciate. And even if she doesn't appreciate R, she trusts and love her wife, so she lets her do her thing. But she is always somewhere looking at you with a stern face, waiting for the moment you would make a mistake to step-in. But you never really make a mistake, always following Nat's orders at the perfection, which is kinda frustrating because then she has no reason to get rid of you. Except if one day R's misunderstood one of Nat's orders, which lead to a heavy situation <3 It's honestly the only situation I imagine leading to an argument between Maria & Nat. Like, maybe you hurt someone or stole something or idk, thinking you did good, and they would be proud, but when you come in the room they're just looking at you with that shocked face. But you did what you had to, no? That's exactly what you were asked to do, so why are they angry? AND IMAGINE THE ANGST FROM NOW. R's confusion, Nat' desesperatly trying to find a solution, trying to convince Maria that it was just a mistake (that was her fault because she is the one that wasn't careful with her words) but she doesn't change her mind. Pulling the "what if it happens again?" and "I am your superior, you don't get to discuss my order" cards, knowing that it would pain Nat', but she has to do it in order to keep her safe. Bonus point if Nat turns to Fury, trying to convince him as she knows her wife won't change her mind, but he doesn't say much, just agreeing with her agent, mumbling a simple "sorry" Nat doesn't want to hear. Obviously, it would eventually

AND (because there is more), I also can't stop thinking about that comment from @light-me-on-pyre ;

Like, I can easily imagine R hating Nat'. It would make so much sense because she grew up in a place where Nat' was pictured as the enemy, the one that betrayed "the ones that gave everything to her". But it wouldn't be the exact reason why R is hating Nat'. I mean, right, she hates her because she left, but mainly because of the consequences it had for the ones that came after - the worsened conditions, the mind control, etc - and how she succeed what's supposed to be impossible: leaving the Red Room. Not only physically, but mentally. Imagine R seeing Nat' on the news when she is on a mission or seeing her interacting with Maria/the Avengers, witnessing Nat' being happy. It's something she was told she doesn't deserve/will never have from a young age, so why would Nat' have the right to be happy when so many didn't? It was so much easier to hate on Nat' than on Dreykov all these years because she wasn't here, and no one would blame her to do so. But now? It's easier to continue hating Nat', for R to convince herself that the redhead is bad despite the appearances because it's easier than admitting that her whole life is a lie (kinda). And the fact that Nat' has to take the "bad guy" role in order to help R only makes things easier because, in the end, she is not different from the others, right? And so, as Nat' can't provide R the comfort she needs, it's all on Maria (at least for the beginning) who doesn't have a choice. But we all know that despite her cold demeanour, she is all soft, she is just scared for the ones she loves <3 Which includes Nat', because she saw how her wife is affected by your arrival. First, she has nightmares again because, with you, inevitably came back old memories and traumas. Then, Maria can see how her wife is so invested in your case that she barely sleep/eat/ (which is one of the reasons why she doesn't really appreciate R ...). But also, what would happen if they can't save you?

Bonus point if things get better but something happen, and everything get worse again, throwing away all these months of progress. But what if they don't have the patience to start all over again?

It's definitely (one of) my favorite trope because the amount of angst/comfort it holds is insane, and I am going crazy about it (you can tell by the lenght of that post that was supposed to be a few lines ...). Do I want to write something like that when I already have too many WIPs? Yes. Will I do it? I don't know, but I'll definitely be thinking about it 24/24 & 7/7.

[teecupangel]

this is pretty hard to put into words but just hear me out. Imagine Desmond as a baker. Like a literally pastry/bread maker.

So the idea is that he'd have time traveled, by the apple or isu bullshit it's up to you, and basically gets adopted into this nice old family who own a bakery. They teach him everything and he settles down a bit. But it turns out he's travelled to before the executions of Ezio's family, where he has a chance to save them, but was warned against it by Minerva (or whoever) because it would mean the end of the world. So he has this moral dilemma the entire time. But also, he wants nothing to do with the Brotherhood. He's done with the Assassin's and Templars for a lifetime.

Then Leonardo comes along, because there's a nice family bakery down the road and he was craving something sweet, and sees Desmond (who is completely freaking out) and Leonardo assumes something... That he's Giovanni's bastard son. Which leads to a large moment of misunderstandings in which Leonardo is trying to tell the family that Desmond exists without sounding like he's accusing Giovanni of cheating but also trying to say something quick. Because if he saw the connection, so would other people.

But Maria, ignoring all the failed attempts of poor Leonardo, goes and orders a large amount of baked pastries to be delivered to the villa in celebration of someone's birthday. Lo and behold, Desmond appears to deliver the goods (and then to disappear into oblivion, because he just couldn't help himself to not see the family again)

Everyone stops when they see Desmond and Leonardo almost passes out from the pure amout of stress he had taken on. Then there's this whole scandal and poor little Desmond is smack dab in the middle of it.

Desmond could find baking as relaxing in the sense that baking requires precision and any deviation in the recipe (that is not like sugar content) could easily destroy it which, for someone like Desmond, might mean that the baker has complete control of what’s going to happen.

At least, if Desmond can’t have full control over his life, he could have full control over the pastries he makes.

Also, if we set it up so that Desmond wouldn’t know much about baking before he got adopted BUT he does know what pastries and cakes should look like and the ‘usual stuff’ that should be in them, hell, he could accidentally invent pastries that shouldn’t exist during that time period.

He would be known as someone not afraid to experiment and try new ingredients and people assume he’s a mad genius but Desmond is just trying to find possible alternatives he could use for the pastries he knows about but doesn’t exactly know how to make.

So Leonardo would be interested in the products themselves but also because of the rumor of this pastry/bread madman and both of them just stared at one another with wide eyes because Leonardo is thinking “Oh no, Giovanni cheated on Maria!” and Desmond is thinking “Oh fuck, what the hell is Leonardo doing here? Okay, stay cool, stay cool, stay freaking cool, Desmond”

And Leonardo becomes a regular because goddamn those pastries are to die for and Leonardo enjoys being Desmond’s taster (or, as Desmond like to call him, his guinea pig) all the while trying to drop hints that he knows who Desmond’s real father is.

Desmond misunderstands this hints as Leonardo knowing that he’s connected to the Auditores and he thinks if anyone could think “Ah! Of course! Time traveling bullshit!” as a reason for Desmond’s existence, it would be freaking Leonardo Da Vinci.

And, just to make everything more complicated, Desmond tries his damnest not to get near the Auditores but it wasn’t like they could reject Maria Auditore’s orders because that was a lot of money and also it would be social suicide to be known as the bakers who said no to the wife of Lorenzo’s unofficial second-in-command.

Instead of Desmond being the one to deliver it though, Ezio gets roped into getting the orders and Desmond freaks out because “oh shit, Ezio! Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!” so Desmond does want any normal person freaking out and out of option would do at that situation, pretend everything is fine and smile and be polite on the outside while just going “AAaaaaaaahhh *deep breath* aaaAAAAAAAAAHHHH” on the inside and Ezio is just staring at him and being uncharacteristically absentminded which Desmond assumed meant he must have just seen Cristina or something.

Instead, Ezio goes to Leonardo after delivering the pastries and go “I THINK MY FATHER CHEATED ON MY MOTHER AND HAS A SECRET CHILD!”

And Leonardo just goes “YYYYYEEESSSS!!!!”

Cue Leonardo and Ezio trying to drop hints to Maria about Desmond’s ‘real’ parentage (which Maria mistakes as Leonardo and Ezio really liking the pastries) and dropping hints to Desmond about his ‘connection’ to the Auditores (which Desmond mistakes as both Leonardo and Ezio coming close to finding out he’s a freaking descendant of the Auditores that time traveled) while Leonardo and Ezio suffer through both of their ‘obliviousness’.

(By the way, all this pastry talk made me remember Tasting History with Max Miller on youtube and, if you’re curious what food was like in the past, check his videos out. He even has a playlist for Medieval and Renaissance food)

[cloudsspoke]

Though the final match between Argentina versus France has been dubbed by the majority of people as the best World Cup Final, personally this is the best match throughout World Cup 2022, or more like, the most unforgettable one.

The altercation between players started after what Lea did to the Dutch’s bench. Things escalated quickly from that moment. It got worse because Lahoz gave them 10mins additional times and once it ended, the 2nd brawl happened almost instantly.

Dunno what the hell is wrong with that Bergwijn guy 💀🤬.

It’s a good thing Ota came right on time. It looks as if he noticed Bergwijn’s movement and Ota used his body as armor to protect his teammate from violent Bergwijn. We never know which player Bergwijn intended to hurt when he suddenly marched into the players’ mob like that (there’s Macca and Lea right there, Bergwijn proly wanted to hurt them).

This post is solely to capture the fight scenes, for the penalty shoot-out scenes read here.

The game ended after Lautaro successfully converted his penalty kick. The Dutch players got to see El General do this ‘Roman’ celebration right in front of their faces.

But the next fight happened exactly after that. Well, actually there are 2 fights happened at the same time.

Scene #1 was when Lahoz gave Dumpfries red card and Dybala was seen happily mocking Dumpfries. His mouth and his gesture showed that he told Dumpfries to go home. Dumpfries fumed and marched to probably kill Dybala, but Tagliafico shielded Dumpfries from doing that.

can someone tell me what Papu posted on his Instagram story that day 🤔?

Meanwhile, the other scene involved Noa Lang who pushed Paredes and Papu who pushed Lang back.

From this angle we can see how Tagliafico held Dumpfries off with all his might.

It’s a never-ending drama that we saw one after another. And again, in between Argies’ celebration, Messi came to Van Gaal and this whole thing happened:

I know we should respect the elder, with Van Gaal being the senior coach and all that, but at this moment, somos todos Rodrigo De Paul. I can imagine De Paul proly said: “Ay, señor this is what happens if you talk too much about us. See, now you make Leo angry. Jajaja~ Enjoy your exit, señor. Chao~”

And while Rodri loved every second of provoking Van Gaal, our Angelito came to pull Messi away from the altercation. He’s our MOM, okay? Fide is truly the MOTHER ANGEL 👼 of this chaotic group. First, he protected Enzo from Dumpfries, then protected Enzo from hearing DIbu’s cursing, and at last, when everyone tried to calm the shit out of Leo with no success, somehow as soon after Fide stepped in, just like that the altercation ended.

And of course, being such an Angel as he was, Fide took a moment to hug Frans Hoek 👼❤️♥️(The Dutch’s GK coach, who used to work with both Van Gaal and Fide in United)

Not only did Messi pay a ‘friendly’ visit to The Dutch’s bench, but our beloved Dibu too, this time we all could hear his direct message clearly.

Impressive.

My favorite moment?

It’s when Dibu joined his teammate’s celebration and half-joking cursed Enzo for his failed penalty attempt. Di Maria stood there watching that moment smiling, but he saved Enzo from Dibu’s wrath when Di Maria pulled Dibu into a hug, gave Enzo an exit to escape from Dibu.

***

Talk about La Scaloneta destined to be World Cup champion cuz it’s been written in the stars, there are 2 things I found that are interesting from this match against Nederland.

First, when Lahoz yellow-carded Gonza for protesting just 3 minutes after Gonza came to the pitch to replace Molina. That yellow card banned Gonza from playing in the next game, in case the Argies advanced to the Semifinal round. But that didn’t stop him from executing the penalty kick.

With his success, along with Leo’s, Lea’s, and Lautaro’s, La Scaloneta did advance to the next round, where they won easily against Croatia, and Gonza was benched without major problems. Meanwhile, during Argies’ last, final game against France when the victory had to be determined through a penalty shoot-out, we got him ready, unpunished, and he did his job well once again.

*

And then we have Dybala 💎. People have been asking and waiting for when he will play. His chance came to light with Argentina’s victory over Nederland. Fun fact, his first-ever World Cup debut was in 2018, the same game against Croatia when he came to sub Tevez, only this time the Argies won 3-0 and advanced to the final.

And as we all know, in the Final match Scaloni put him in to prepare La Joya to take part in the penalty shoot-out. He didn’t waste that chance. He helped Argies to get the World Cup trophy, despite only playing for no less than 20mins throughout the whole tournament.

The reason why I mentioned Dybala in this post is because of what he revealed later that he remembered what Dibu said to Enzo: "kick the ball to the center". I can say that Enzo’s failure during the match against Nederland somehow helped La Joya to convert his kick successfully.

***

If you think the drama between Argentina players and The Dutch ended on the field, nope. It continued even during the post-match interview session.

Dibu, they hear you: Lahoz announced retirement and Van Gaal too.

🇦🇷✨🏆

[themculibrary]

Tony Stark-Centric Masterlist 2

part one

5 Candid Photos of Tony Stark and the 1 Candid Photo of Iron Man (ao3) - dls T, 8k

Summary: Iron Man, optional. Tony Stark, preferred.

1356 (ao3) - sunspot (unavoidedcrisis) T, 23k

Summary: Tony's going to need more than a box of scraps and a secluded cave to fix a way out of this one...

A.I.s and Lullabies (ao3) - Echo N/R, 21k

Summary: Tony is suddenly a quiet, wary five year old boy. The rest of the team are less than completely sure about what to do about that.

All I Know Is You're Someone I've Always Known (ao3) - ceealaina T, 6k

Summary: Tony wakes up to Nat waiting for him in the soul stone.

Almost No One Makes It Out (ao3) - atrata T, 28k

Summary: What would have happened if Tony hadn't been born filthy rich? A military AU.

a rainbow tide of rainbow pride (ao3) - arabellagaleotti T, 2k

Summary: Bandanna laughs as they press him against the ground, and Tony opens his mouth and laughs, he's always liked this moment, still riding the adrenaline from whatever stupid thing he’s done but too soon for the repercussions to set in.

OR,

It's 1986, and Tony Stark is at a gay rights protest.

Authenticity (ao3) - On_Every_Spectrum clint/tony, clint/phil T, 5k

Summary: "Howard wasn't ever going to win father of the year in anyone's book. Including his own child's. He was more interested in the image of having a son than, you know, his actual son. So, Tony figured he better thank his lucky stars that it was a son that Howard had so desperately wanted. A son he'd longed for."

But I Haven't Thought of You Lately at All (ao3) - dls G, 4k

Summary: Tony Stark resigned from the Avengers post-Ultron. The superhero team believed his absence would not cause any lasting impact. After all, Tony was just a consultant, right?

Or: 5 Times Tony Stark was a Consultant and the 1 Time He was a Teammate

Challenging Authority (ao3) - rocknrollout steve/tony T, 9k

Summary: On May 29th, Maria Stark went into labor. The baby was perfectly healthy and after 5.3 hours, the doctor was able to hold up a bright red, wriggling baby and announce that Howard and Maria Stark now had a perfect baby girl.

That was when problems started to arise.

Checkmate (ao3) - bobthebeekeeper M, 110k

Summary: Follow on from Captain America Civil War. Takes place directly after the confrontation in Siberia.

Tony is taken to the Raft to explain himself and his actions to Ross. Things go downhill.... fast.

dear mr. fantasy (ao3) - iron_spider T, 46k

Summary: Tony worries his brain is misfiring, transporting him across time and space in one final insane journey. He swallows hard, and he hears those garbled voices again. He can’t make out words, or tone, or who the hell is talking, but somebody definitely is, and it sounds strangely like they’re underwater. Or he is.

He grits his teeth and turns around, and before he can even begin to trudge over towards Peter’s room, he’s stopped in his tracks.

By a door. In the middle. Of the living room. Straight up and down like a monolith, just beside the glass coffee table.

Tony chews on his lower lip and stares at it. “Well that’s new,” he says, still rooted to the spot.

elioenai (ao3) - Anonymous G, 6k

Summary: Tony falls through the space between worlds. As a result, he can see daemons. It kind of freaks him out. (It's stranger and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.)

Enough Rope (ao3) - Amber_and_Ash M, 89k

Summary: Tony can't get himself back from Siberia, and it takes the night for him to be rescued. While waiting to see if he'll die of hypothermia, he realises something for the first time. It wasn't that he failed because he hadn't tried hard enough. He had failed because he had tried too hard. His so-called team-mates had formed the habit of blaming Tony for everything because he had let them. He had shouldered the blame, let them attack him without consequence, and cleaned up after their mess, all so they could continue to feel self-righteous in peace. But it wasn't just him they were attacking, and saving the world didn't give them a free pass to be the very bullies that Steve claimed to fight against.

Tony woke up in hospital, still sustained by the relief of his realisation. Things sucked, but they would get better. He was Tony Stark, and no challenge was too much for him. It was odd how much easier it was to plot when he actually did intend ways to manipulate the ex-Avengers into falling in line. And since that was what they seemed convinced he was doing all along, they didn't deserve a warning that it would now be true.

Extraction (ao3) - ancalime8301 T, 5k

Summary: Tony is (eventually) rescued from Siberia and deals with what happened by not dealing with what happened.

Fateful Choices (ao3) - the_writer1988 pepper/tony, happy/pepper, one-sided gamora/tony M, 177k

Summary: Tony made the choice to make the sacrifice play and was lost. Steve chose to close the portal.

Both lived to regret it.

Gone (ao3) - nonna T, 57k

Summary: In the final fight scene of Captain America Civil War, Tony's helmet breaks off the armour after the relentless clashing it receives.

What if the harsh hits to his head create serious complications for Tony, and he loses his sight?

Somebody's hero (ao3) - EternalSheWolf G, 4k

Summary: Tony Stark is six when he learns that nobody will come for him. If he wants to be rescued, he’ll have to take care of it himself.

The Many Quirks of Tony Stark (and the reasons behind them) (ao3) - audhds T, 23k

Summary: Everybody who is anybody knows that Anthony Edward Stark is a strange one. Even people who have never met him know that the bloke was quirky. Most think he is rude, arrogant and socially inept.

Of course, Tony Stark doesn't give a fuck about what people think of him.

Although it would be nice if his fellow Avengers understood that he wasn't simply doing things to be an asshole. It would be great, just once, if they would look past the mental walls that he put up. If they'd see beyond the smiling mask that he put on, day in, day out.

Because the truth of the matter is that Tony Stark is falling apart, struggling to carry on living in a world that is intent on breaking him down. He is scared and has been through enough to make anybody crumble, so yes he might be a bit odd, but at least he is surviving, ok?

Tony's Choice (ao3) - hafital pepper/tony G, 25k

Summary: In order for the Avengers to use the Stones to reverse the Snap, they each must make a terrible choice.

“We are the gauntlet,” said Tony, looking at Clint, then at Thor and Natasha and Bruce, and finally, Steve. “What is it you keep harping on about? We do this together. We are the gauntlet. There are six stones, and six of us. We each take a Stone.”

Understanding something doesn't mean you can change it (except where you can) (ao3) - sirona howard/maria, steve/howard, peggy/steve, steve/tony G, 3k

Summary: How Howard Stark went from Captain America's Howard Stark to the one Tony grew up with. And a possible explanation for Tony's Mom not taking more of an interest in her son. And Tony coping with the parents he's been saddled with. With bonus appearances from Peggy Carter, Dummy and, eventually, Steve himself.

[katyspersonal]

I am trying to line my OTPs, which is a bit hard to do since I just love experimenting + Bloodborne timeline allows for several to have happened during the events even without any AUs since everyone gets broken up sdfhfdh

I think I did stop at Bradorence and Mariadeline, but now I dunno what to do with Gehrman, if anything.. The closest I have is Djura, whom I headcanon was the first Dreaming Hunter, also the first and the last Dreaming Hunter to be connected with the dream for more than just one night. Gehrman blames himself for not watching him attentively enough and letting the hunt break his heart and end up regretting what he did with Old Yharnam too... He is the second person Gehrman feels like he failed with this stuff, after Maria, but at least Djura gets to live and find new purpose..

But it is because of Djura Gehrman now goes easier on assisting hunters and only gives them one night. And Djura was his most reliable anchor about the news from outside world + it was helpful that he knew Laurence and some other guys. He really misses Djura now though; he used to be one of the most ruthless hunter ever (people change, huh), and he would invent weird weapons even in the Hunter's Dream. Gehrman also used to fix Djura's clothes all the time because he ruined them QUITE often xD Little did he know that the unique way in which Djura got his hat ruined became new trend later hahahah

Though, honestly, Matias (my name for Blood Minister from the intro) is a good candidate too! Wheelchair dudes were Old Hunters too, and I could imagine them not only having known each other in the past, but also having mysterious connection in which Matias is aware of the Hunter's Dream and still tries to help and keeps hopes that Gehrman will eventually be freed, as long as they still not let Yharnam completely perish with them immortal-for-the-night hunters.

________________

But yeah, for now I think this works. Bradorence, Mariadeline, Djurman (lol), Micoed... that's all. Honorable mention for Valtmura. 'Romebrietas or Yurom?' is still a question I will NEVER answer in a LIFETIME. ...although Julie has two hands....

[merminns]

No regrets

Erwin Smith x Reader

❧ Request: Hii may i request...Erwin angst...when (S3 spoiler) Erwin march toward the 🐒 with the other soldier, instead of him tht went, it was the reader. Reader just cant make the humanity lost their commander so when he is distracting (idk something happened) reader just take their horse n march with the soldiers, (then do ur magic DETAILS like ur erwin stories✨✨) n levi also decide not to save us like in the s3....shshsh i know this lame :33

❧ Content/Warnings: platonic levi x reader, season 3 spoilers, angst, mentions of injuries and blood, reader dies in the end 

❧ Word count: 3k

❧ Notes: this is a repost from my old blog

Going back to shiganshina after all of these years was a huge deal. Especially after the glorious send-off you were given by the citizens of Wall Rose. You came back to reclaim Wall Maria after six long years, you’re taking back your land and defeating the titans that filled your hearts with terror, cause that’s what heroes do.

But in reality, it didn’t really feel that way to you. Instead of being the hero who’s facing their fear, you feel like a terrified child living in a nightmare.

You expected a fight with the titans, of course, you did. Taking back your land won’t come without a fight, without losses. And it’s not your first time facing titans.

You’ve been fighting them for years now, getting rid of them one after the other alongside your friends. Your records are filled with a decent number of kills and you are proud of it.

But this… this is different, you’ve never been in this situation before. You fought titans and you watched them kill your comrades in the worst ways imaginable, but never in your various years within the survey corps did you ever imagine that these monsters would show this tactical intelligence.

It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Titans are a nightmare on their own, with intelligence like that you’re surely done for.

When you came to shiganshina you expected a fight against the armored and the colossal, even the beast titan, but not a tactical war with pure titans that follow command, and most certainly not rocks killing your most skilled comrades and caging you against the wall.

Despite your fear, you felt a sarcastic chuckle slip past your lips. You’ve lived for years with nightmares of being eaten, and now you’re dying in a titan game of baseball, how pathetic.

Your eyes drifted to Erwin and Levi who were having a private conversation nearby as you tried to calm the panicking recruits. Erwin… your commander, your love, the man who never knew how to back down. He's not in the best physical state, but he just had to come along. He had to be here even though he knew he won't be able to fight.

Despite the fear eating at your heart, you kept your composure, that’s the least you owed your commander. After the recruits calmed down, you made your way to where Erwin and Levi stood. Their conversation halted as you stood in front of them, their eyes holding something unreadable in their depth.

"I'm hoping these looks mean you came up with a plan… " You spoke, your voice coming with the quiver you never hoped to show.

A moment of silence passed, a look shared between Erwin and Levi… if this meant anything then you weren’t about to hear good news. There was tension in the air as Erwin explained his plan to you. It was then that you understood the look in their eyes, you think a similar one can be seen in your eyes now.

It finally dawned on you that this is the end. There is no way out of this war alive. Erwin's plan had a single meaning; if you keep standing where you are, you'll be flattened by the rocks thrown at you by the beast, and if you fight back, you die. You'll have to give your lives so Levi could deal with the Beast Titan.

You always knew this day would come. A war with the titans can’t end without casualties. The survey corps numbers were always changing. These are all facts, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be like this.

The fear was eating at your insides, it’s impossible to face titans without it, but you knew ever since your very first day with the corps that you’ll have to be ready to give your life. You were ready to accept it… that is, until Erwin spoke up again.

"We'd have to ask these young people to give up their lives. You'd need the skills of a first-rate con man to come up with a reason that convincing, so I doubt any of them would charge forward unless I was leading the way."

His words are like a slap back to reality, it wasn’t just your life you were giving. All of your remaining comrades will have to give theirs too, including the commander. The survey corps are going to be wiped out in a crazy move of mass suicide. But it wasn’t only your lives that would have to be given, and all it took was one look in Erwin’s eyes to know where this was going.

"Which would mean I'd be the first to die, " Erwin said and you held your breath waiting for his next words "without ever learning… what was in that basement."

You knew it, you knew this was coming but it still hurt. Amid this chaos, you managed to forget the reason why Erwin insisted to be here in the first place.

'Oh, Erwin, if only you weren't so stubborn' The words were dancing on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t speak.

Of course, Erwin has dreams, he’s just as much of a human as everyone here. While most of the corps were fighting for freedom or revenge, Erwin was fighting for the truth, for evidence that his father’s death meant something.

The look of shock on Levi’s face came nowhere close to the pain you felt. You joined the scouts for a purpose, too. Your dream was freedom, you hoped to be free of the confinement and the terror that the existence of the titans brought. But, now that you think about it, you did get a taste of freedom.

You were free from the confinement of the walls on your horse, feeling the air rushing through your hair and over your skin every time you went out on an expedition.

You were free of terror every time you raised your swords to cut through the nape of a titan’s neck. Every time you brought a titan down you had a taste of the freedom you were chasing.

And the people who fought for revenge, didn’t they get that too? They killed titans, they felt the satisfaction of getting rid of the enemy who hurt them and their loved ones.

The only dream that was never given a chance was Erwin’s. How unfair could the world be to take away the only chance from the man who helped give almost every soldier in the scouts a taste of their dreams? No… he can’t die, not yet.  

You let Erwin give his speech. That’s one thing that no one else can do. Erwin is the only one who can convince the recruits, crying out in fear, to stand tall and fight back as they take their last breaths of the air filled with the smell of dust and death.

As Erwin and the recruits were absorbed in their final thoughts and the speech, you slightly pulled on Levi’s sleeve pulling him back several steps.

The first step of your plan came into action as you answered Levi’s questioning look with a whisper “I want you to distract him.”

“What?” Levi asked, the confusion only growing on his face.

“I want you to distract Erwin. He is giving his speech, I’ll lead the recruits to their death,” you say, your whole being pleading that Levi would agree to help you. He has to, this won’t work out without his help.

“But—”

“Levi, please. The scouts still need him, you know that!” you pause glancing back at Erwin to make sure he’s not listening “When it’s time to move, I want you to pull him aside, tell him it’s something important. It’ll only take a few seconds, then you can carry out your part of the plan and kill the beast.”

“And how do you plan to stop Erwin from following you?”

“I’ll take any extra horses with me, he won’t be able to help you kill the beast and his odm gear won’t do much for him to follow after me,” you held your breath, your eyes pleading. This has to work “Please! Just do me this final favor.”

A moment passed as Levi glanced at Erwin then back to you, his expression unreadable. It was obvious your sacrifice isn’t just for the sake of the corps. “...Fine, but you’ll have to be quick”

“I’ll do my best… Thank you, Levi” the smile that spread across your face was blinding. It held so much gratitude, a final thank you combined with a goodbye.

It didn’t take long for Erwin’s words to give everyone back their composure. You helped everyone fall in line as fast as possible. You are running out of time. The houses around you are almost flattened. You have to move forward, this has to work. You can’t fail this, it has to be meaningful, for you, for the recruits who’ll pay their lives with you, for the whole of humanity… and most importantly, for Erwin.

Everyone is on their horses but it’s not time to move yet. You let your eyes meet Levi’s for one last time giving him a slight nod, signaling for him that you’re ready as you settled on your horse.

Levi stopped Erwin from riding his horse beside you, telling him there’s something important that he has to know first and pulling him aside. He walked Erwin as far from you and the recruits as possible without making it seem suspicious.

Erwin followed urgently after Levi not even allowing you one last look at his face. But that was ok, you didn’t need to see his face, it was already burned to the back of your eyelids.

It all took a few seconds, once you saw Levi and Erwin start talking you took hold of Erwin’s horse and started screaming encouragements for the recruits to charge as you rushed forward. Erwin’s shock had him freeze for a couple of seconds and that was enough for you.

You charged forward with the recruits right after you. Levi waited for a few more seconds to make sure Erwin wouldn’t follow after you. When he was sure you were far enough he took off towards his target, leaving Erwin standing there alone his eyes wide in shock.

Your screams of encouragement were so loud, louder than Erwin ever heard them. They were loud enough that even though you were too far away for him to follow he could still hear your voice filled with determination.

You didn’t look back, there was no reason to. This is the right decision, this plan will work and Erwin will lead what’s left of the scouts to victory. Your life is a small price to pay, it’s nothing compared to the rest of the lives that were already lost.

You can see the beast drawing his hand back, getting ready to shower you with the next round of crushed boulders. Your yelling never stopped even though your throat was running sore from all the screaming.

You didn’t stop when the flares were shot, not when the rocks started showering the frontline lead by you. You didn’t stop when the rocks started growing larger in your vision, you hardly even saw them. All you could see was the future, a bright one without the titans and the fear and the pain. You could see the past, the best and the worst of it. All the memories that you shared with every single one of your comrades.

You kept yelling for everyone to rush forward as tears ran down your face. It’s going to be ok, you had all you ever needed. It was time for you to follow through the same path your fallen comrades walked.

Your screams were cut short when the first rock hit you, sharp pain running through your whole body and the world started spinning as you fell off your horse. The tears still filling your eyes helped blind you, sharp whistles filling your ears and the ever-growing pain flowing through you in waves.

You could hear screams of the fallen around you, hidden behind the ringing in your ears. You could feel the air rushing across your skin as the soldiers rushed past you on their horses. Your mind was as paralyzed with pain as your body.

You just laid on the ground, your tear-filled eyes directed to the blue of the sky but the world has lost its color. It went on forever until you were numb, you have lost all feeling, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heart growing faint as the blood pooled around your body.

You let your eyelids cover your eyes like curtains, your mind swimming somewhere between consciousness and an endless void. You could hardly feel a thing.

It almost felt like falling asleep, your grasp on reality slipping away. But through the back of your mind, the tiny part that was still conscious could feel your body being moved by someone and a rapid rush of air running across your skin.

It gave a jolt to your brain as if something is trying to pull you back to reality but you were too weak. All you wanted was some rest, you just wanted to sleep.

It was a shock to everyone that you’re still alive. You were in bad shape after losing so much blood. Your breath was faint, but it was there and it was enough for you to be revived by the injection. Armin’s state was worse, the fact he was still breathing was a complete miracle, his whole burned away.

Through your clouded consciousness, you could register voices and movement around your body that laid motionless close to Armin’s. It took everything in you to open your eyes, to try to make out the words being yelled back and forth around you.

Through your blurry vision, you could make out the outline of a face so close to yours, peering down at you. You couldn’t see clearly but you knew it was Erwin. Your hearing wasn’t fully registered but you could make out a few words, things like ‘Armin’, ‘Injection’, ‘need’, and your name.

Your foggy mind could barely understand what was going on, but questions started to fill up the part of your consciousness still present.

Were you dying? The last thing you remember is sharp pain rushing through you in waves, but it seems more like a distant memory.

Was Armin dying? If there are mentions of Levi’s injection then this surely is the case.

A few seconds passed when a new figure appeared in your limited line of vision looking down at you over Erwin’s shoulder. Both of them shifted around until the short figure disappeared again, leaving you with Erwin.

Erwin’s voice was so close to your ears, faint whispers about how it’s going to be alright falling past his lips. You felt a huge hand wrap gently around your forearm, followed by a sharp object touching your arm. The injection!

“No,” The barely audible whisper that left you halted Erwin’s actions as his eyes shot to your face “Did we win?”

It felt like too much time has passed before you heard Erwin’s reply “Yes, it’s over”

You were using up too much of your energy to fight back the fog filling your mind. Just a few seconds more, a few more and you’ll allow yourself some rest.

“Save… Armin” your voice was growing weaker, breaths growing shorter.

It broke Erwin’s heart. He was once again being selfish, everyone else chose to save you because you had more experience. To them, you were more valuable to the scouts, with the exception of Armin’s friends who couldn’t accept the fact of him dying.

And Erwin? He wasn’t much different. He wanted to save you because he needed to. He needed to scold you for the stupid move you pulled. He needed to tell you that he would’ve preferred dying by your side than be faced with your death. He needed you to live.

You didn’t understand, he can’t let you die. There was no time for him to explain how valuable you are to the scouts, how valuable you are to him.

He was about to ignore what you said, bring the syringe back to your arm again but with the almost non-existent strength you had, you pulled away.

“Armin” you whispered again, weakly. Your strength wasn’t enough for you to pull back completely, just slightly shift your arm away from the sharp needle, but it was enough to send your message across.

Erwin understood. You were never as selfish as him. You always made the decisions that would benefit the ones you care about most. Erwin took a shaky breath, the composure he usually kept was there for everyone’s eyes, but he wasn’t as composed on the inside.

Armin is a valuable soldier. He is an essential part of the scouts and you understood that. He should be the one to live. And Erwin knew this fight would make no difference if he couldn’t throw everything he had away.

He was ready to throw his dreams and his life away, but you chose for him. You decided he’d keep his life and dreams but in exchange, he’d have to give you up.

After injecting Armin and pulling your weak body away, Erwin stayed by your side. He kept his one hand placed on your heart, waiting for the faint beating to completely stop. And it would have lasted longer if you hadn’t used up so much energy.

To your weak mind, this was the right decision. Armin would do more change for the scouts, for humanity than you ever could. You had no regrets, you’ve got everything you ever asked for.

You allowed your eyes to rest again, let the energy leave your body. And with the last few seconds your breath was there, you could register one whisper. I love you.

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[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part III)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: It will take more than a betrayal and blood blath for the reader to stop protecting those who really need it.

Words count: 4.7k

I knew things were going to go from bad to worse when we returned to Paradis; but I never imagined that I would have a letter from the Supreme Commander on my desk. Days had passed since my fiasco conversation with Eren, spreading the word of my insubordination towards the lack of notification to the respective authorities. Sure, the guards had let me into the cell just because they knew me, but I never had the decency to tell Hange-san or even ask for a meeting with the Supreme Commander.

And here I was. Wrapped up in a much bigger shit roll since I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps, with a simple letter demanding my presence in his office for a little "talk."

The medical center where I could do my practices with ease was quite far from the justice’s court where the Supreme Commander was, having to go out to ride through the beautifully paved streets. A street I crossed, a street I saw citizens read the newspapers that had brought so much catastrophe to peace within the walls. People were revolting against the militancy, demanding Eren's immediate release, praising he was the only one who could lead Eldia to its ultimate glory.

If they could heard themself right now. They spoke as if Paradis itself had become an empire, a power on the verge of attacking and taking every country under its feet. It was as if they wanted to turn the game around, to be us the empire and our enemies the war slaves.

I was still far from my destination, but the crowd could be seen cowering above the barred court doors. Men and women with posters screaming without sense or unity, an angry mob demanding explanations, ready to use violence to make their way into the hierarchy.

I got off my horse when I faced the crowd, needing to get up front and through the secured gate and with my loyal traveling companion I wasn't going to make it. I left him tied up outside a local, asking the owner to take care of him, if necessary, I would give him a monetary compensation on my returned.

I tried to get through the mob, asking permission, even nudging some people, but no matter how hard I tried to take a step forward, there was always a bastard blocking my way or pulling me back; They even had the decency to grab my coat and throw me off.

"Excuse me, but I need to pass"

Empty words at this situation. If they didn’t listen to the specialized people of the militancy, it was obvious that they wouldn’t listen to me, a simple doctor in practice for the legion.

"Free the leader of the Eldian empire"

"Free Eren Jaeger"

"Give us some damn answer"

"Fuck off you cheap bitch"

The day wasn’t even beginning and I was already receiving hateful comments, typical of closed minds.

I looked around for a solution, I was wasting valuable time and starting to get irritated. If I was late for my meeting with the Supreme Commander, who knows what punishment he would give me apart from my insubordination.

Besides of the mob there wasn’t much more than a few elegant houses and shops, no other entrance except the one in the backyard, but to get there, I would have to go all the way around the building and it would take much longer. The walls were too high to jump alone and too smooth to climb, otherwise enough people would have sneaked in by now.

I turned my head towards my horse, which was still in the same position where I left him, patiently awaiting my return. Surely what I was about to do wasn’t going to please him one bit.

I ran as fast as I could and unhooked him from the wooden post, ignoring the comments of the owner of the premises who was indisputably claiming for his pay. Without turning my head to such scum, I motioned for the horse to turn around and run down the avenue, against the crowd. Being at a considered distance, I again instructed him to turn around and go as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry Phillip, you're going to have to forgive me for what I'm going to do"

We were a few meters from the mob, mentally preparing myself for the feat that was about to be accomplished. Almost arriving, about to impact, I gave him a little jerk to the right, guiding us towards the wall, and raised my legs towards his back, squatting against him, waiting for the right moment and the impulse he would give when braking hard.

When he was about to slam his trunk against the wall, Phillip stopped his galloping, propelling me forward and flying toward one of the door columns. I grabbed the stone as best I could, avoiding falling on my backside, and raised my legs towards the top, finally reaching my goal. Being already on top and looking at the terrified faces of the rebels, I went down to the other side of the door, slightly hurting my feet and hands in the fall.

"That was quite a show"

Hitch was already in front of me, malicious and proud on her face. She was giving a few applause to the air, trying to lift the spirits of the people of the military squad, even if her acting was a bit cocky.

"Desperate situations call for desperate measures." I waved my hands over the coat, looking at her with the same smug visage she was giving me.

I didn't like Hitch per se, but we weren't friends either. The way she acted and talked gave me bad vibes and I planned to stay as neutral as possible in her presence. Even her gazes seemed to want to pierce the soul of whoever she was speaking to, as if she wanted to undress you internally and seek your darkest and most shameful secrets. I would stick my hands in the fire by assuming that in her younger years she had been a bully or a blackmailer.

But it was better to keep those thoughts for yourself, before generating greater repercussions in the times that hugged us.

"Did you come to see Armin and Mikasa?"

Any thoughts I had of her dissipated.

"They ... are they here?"

I was fuzzy. Not because of the fact that I was uninformed about their actions when they left the legion barracks in the morning, which I was getting used to since last year, but because they were in the same place as me. What a coincidence.

To be honest, the two of them never owed me anything and it wasn't their duty to tell me where they were going every minute of the day, just like Hange. Each one of us had their own will to go where we were sung; But if the three of us were in court, and if they gave me the chance to guess, I would say that to see the Supreme Commander, it made me a bit suspicious.

"Yes, they are talking to the Supreme Commander to try to go talk to Eren"

I must have hit my head at some point in the battle of Marley, because lately every occurrence was quite impossible to believe. They were the ones who asked me to go talk to him a few days ago, they were the ones who questioned me when I returned to the waiting room where the few survivors of 104° Squad were;it was them who gave me a compassionate look as they saw I hadn’t accomplished much and I had ended any relationship that bound me with Eren.

And now here they were, demanding an audience with their childhood friend, while I would have to be judged for the same action. Something wasn’t fitting. I looked around trying to find them, or maybe to find an answer to the thousands of questions that were forming in my head, and finding no help, I turned to Hitch.

"What is going on? Why-"

Before I could finish my question, an explosion rumbled across the cobblestone floor, hurting our ears and knocking us to the ground. Fire and debris couldn’t only be seen in the air but also smelled, flooding our nostrils, causing us to cough and cover our eyes with debris.

I looked up to find a flare coming from one of the court offices and a heavy body falling in our direction. I couldn't make it out until it fell to the ground, leaving a stain of blood and ash around it, apart from leaving a trail of smoke from where it flew off. My eyes were opened with shock and amazement, since the person in front of me was nothing more and nothing less than the same militant leader, half of the body lost and burned by the explosion.

"Well ... that's new"

In all my years of service I have seen every horror inside and outside the walls. True, even the Survey Corps had acted against the law, but it was for the greater good, to expose the bastards who lived on the wall farthest from the sea. I had seen people hit and kick another for a piece of food when the wall Maria fell. I had seen how we were massacred one by one with bullets to the head as we tried to go beyond the walls.

But never in those years I had seen a rebellion like the one taking place, being willing to eliminate such an authoritarian figure as Darius Zackly.

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The chaos went unnoticed by a large part of the population, only those who were present at the time of the explosion and the military police were aware. Faced with such an atrocious event of treason, a small meeting was convened involving the most important heads of each faction; unfortunately I couldn’t be there, my presence had been required in a clinic a few meters from the court. There were quite a few injured.

Some had mild and harmless burns, others had large parts of the body with third degree burns. Some had splinters stuck in their arms and faces, some had a piece of wood stuck in their stomach.

A couple of hours had passed which seemed like weeks to me. I had been assigned the milder cases, but as I pulled the splinters out of a patient's eyes, I had the countless howls of people echoing in my head, listening as they took their last painful breaths. People who asked to die on purpose to ease the pain.

Hours passed and welcomed the next day. I had terrible black circles under my tired eyes, hands stained with dried blood and splintered; they’re fucked up and I needed to heal them as quickly as possible before they got infected. I grabbed the cutting tools and placed them on a metal tray, the cold of the surface soothing the pain in my hands, and although it wasn’t too heavy I felt like it trembled on my grip.

I heard the door open wide at the other side of my last patient's room, the front door, letting in multiple heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Apparently, the soldier who had entered was in a hurry or was about to deliver terrible news...I wish I had been wrong in the second option.

"Bad news, Eren Jaeger has escaped from the underground cell"

I dropped the metal tray on my feet, making the sound of metal and utensils rumble across the room. My hands were shaking even more and surely if I saw myself in a mirror I would see my face completely pale.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead"

My words invaded my mind like a bucket of cold water, as if they wanted to make me see that I was to blame for his escape. I knew that sooner or later he’s going to free himself, his eyes showed it and by not getting an answer that contrasted with mine, it was perfect evidence of his plans. But even knowing it, even Hange knowing it, I didn't expect him to do it in a moment of such betrayal.

I cleaned my hands as best I could with a towel hanging over the room sink and grabbed my coat, rushing out of the clinic.

"I’m sorry, I need to go"

But where to go was the question. I had no idea where Eren might be, and even if I knew what he was going to win, surely he was with his followers and with the simple image of me approaching from the horizon, I would be dead in a matter of seconds ... or imprisoned, whatever happen first.

At the exit of the clinic, there were two soldiers of the military police standing guard and watching the justice’s court from the distance. I approached them with the intention of asking them about the whereabouts of the Survey Corps, but they looked at me like I had the plague and pushed me aside hostilely, almost knocking me to the ground. I kept my composure as best I could and looked for someone else to ask; I didn’t have to wait long, since a woman of my age with mahogany hair, extremely black and matted, pointed the way where my comareds had gone. According to her words, they’re heading towards a large and luxurious building in the middle of one of the main avenues, recognizing the word restaurant from the conversation between the riders.

The only place that matched that description was the restaurant where Nicolo worked.

I hurried out with Phillip galloping through people, avoiding stepping on them and apologizing on my back. If there was something clear to me in all this mess, it was that Hange would go to find answers among the working Marleyans of that place. Maybe something could be solved.

I was very wrong.

I rushed into the building, finding only a long entrance hall and a corridor that led to god knows where. No one was even around to see me panic and I didn't see a soul nearby either, the only thing if I could hear a heated discussion far away and heavy footsteps on the floor. I let myself be guided by the sound, running back to its origins and finding a bizarre and meaningless scene in front of my eyes.

The room that seemed to be the main one hosted the orphaned children of the Blouse farm as well as Sasha's parents, sad and anguished parents if I paid better attention. The children were just as sad, with tears in their eyes, especially Kaya; they were crying the same way as on the day Sasha's death was reported. They were cornered under a window all together, hugging each other and letting the rays of the sun streaming through the window illuminate their figures, as if those rays could replace the heat that Sasha had left behind.

That scene broke my still fragile heart. I would have liked to reach out to them and try to help them move on, as I would have liked to stay on the farm with them when we came back from Marley to help them get by; obviously I could never have replaced Sasha and they could never have replaced my family, but in these times of battle, what mattered most was healing the wounds between all of us.

I would have liked to talk to them, but my eyes shifted from the Blouse family to the figure of Hange carefully placing a child on the floor. The blond boy was very badly injured on the side of his head, he was bleeding and his clothes had stuck to his body due to the large amount of liquid that had flowed down his torso.

"Hange-san, Wha-" As I stared at the blond boy on the floor, I could see that he was one of the children who had sneaked into our war balloon.

“Isn't that one of the Marleyan children? Why is he here and why is he bleeding?"

Unconsciously my body leaned forward, resting on one knee on the ground and reaching out to the boy. My instincts as a doctor were screaming for me to tend to the poor injured boy regardless of his race and I was willing to do so.

"We will take care of him, go to the room continue with Mikasa and Armin"

I got up without hesitation, taking one last look at the room I was in and it was just at that moment that I recognized Nicolo and Jean in a corner away from everyone else. They both looked very distressed, but I didn't have the opportunity to ask why, they had given me an order and I had to carry it out. I would have to wait until got back to base to understand this terrible situation.

The room they sent me to was at the end of the corridor, the door was closed but every step I took I could hear the soft voices of Mikasa and Armin, apparently talking to someone else. Well, that conversation must have to get a pause because I was about to slam the door in and leave the doors wide open.

“What the hell is going on? Why is a Marleyan child unconscious in the kitchen?"

Upon entering, all excited, my eyes only saw the figures of Armin and Mikasa around a table. They both looked up at me in disbelief when they saw me standing on the threshold. For the second time that day, I looked back across the stage in front of me and spotted a small brown-haired figure sitting at the same table. With a little more attention, I saw that the small figure was trembling, perhaps from fear or from adrenaline, at the same time that its face was bruised and full of blood; and putting all my attention on that bloody face I realized that I recognized those eyes, those same eyes that I had looked at with contempt and had looked back at me with the same feeling the night of the invasion.

The missing girl from the Marleyan duo was sitting across from me staring with sheep's eyes.

All exaltation I had in my body dissipated, my gaze fell, leaving nothing more than a neutral countenance. But ... anyone who could see through my eyes, would know they reflected the fatigue and sadness of several accumulated days. Seeing the girl was perhaps a way of attaching all the harmful feelings in a single part of my body.

I let out a long sigh and closed the door slowly behind me. I walked slowly towards where the girl was, running Mikasa to the side and looked at her with the best possible adult countenance. She had a red nose, it looked like it had been hit right on her septum causing her to bleed and stain her dress, which I assumed was courtesy of the Blouse family. Her cheek was scratched and red too, traces of broken and inflamed skin could be seen around her wound, but without any bleeding. This girl would have a swollen face the next day if we don't give her some ice.

“You’re hurt. Care to explain me what happened?"

I reached my hand out to her, but was greeted with a flinch from her. I could tell she was scared and she had every right to be.Either way, way I brought my hand to her face, placing my index finger and thumb on her jaw to move her head and look for other injuries.

Her face was the one that received the most impact, nothing in her eyes which was a very good sign, and I didn’t notice any kind of fracture in the bones of her cheek or septum. Good. I looked around the room for something I could use, but I only found empty tables adorned with a classic tablecloth and a very well elaborated and cared wine cellar, apart from showing off one of the best wine collections in recent years.

"Armin, can you go get some alcohol to disinfect the wounds? Surely they have something in the kitchen "

The blonde gave me a slight nod and left the room, leaving me alone with Mikasa, who was absolved of the situation, but still maintaining an imposing posture. The girl was still shaking on my hand, so I pushed her away and inspected her body for more injuries.

The palms of her hands were stained with blood, I guessed from the bleeding from her nose, but they also had some slight scratches, perhaps she had fallen to the floor. Her dress didn’t seem torn in the area of ​​the knees, so I assumed that they weren’t injured or it was a very slight scratch, almost no bleeding. Her arms seemed intact as did her torso. I turned to the back of her head, running her hair gently trying to find any trace of blow that could generate a contusion. I didn’t find anything that could be fatal or serious, but I did see something that caught my attention.

“You have marks on your head, diffuse, but they are there. What happened?"

"... A horse bit me"

Of all the situations that could have led to those brands, I didn't expect to hear this one. I didn’t expect it, not at all. It caught me off guard and I let out a giggle which I covered with the back of my hand.

"Sorry, shouldn't laugh… you deserve it thou" I gave her a little pat on the top of her head before ruffling it a bit and bending down to look into her eyes.

Armin returned to the room, alcohol in hand and a clean cloth. Thank God something was clean in this whole city, I was beginning to lose my faith in the cleanliness of this people. I reached for the items and I proceeded to apply a large amount of alcohol to the cloth and apply it first to the frightened girl's cheek.

"Why are you so good to me? I killed a one of your friends"

That comment made me stop for a second, just like I stopped looking at her wound. My gaze fell to the floor in search of an answer; I searched, searched and searched for answers to questions that didn’t have one or weren’t as simple as they seemed...or simply looked in the wrong places and the answers were always in my mind, only that my heart wasn’t prepared to face them.

"The girl you killed the night of the invasion was called Sasha Blouse and she was the best archer and sniper of the legion"

I turned my gaze to her, continuing to heal her wound on her cheek. When I saw that there was only a small pink stain left on the surface, I moistened the cloth further with alcohol and ran it under her nose, removing any trace of blood. The girl pulled back a bit when she felt it’s smell her nostrils and I had the opportunity to cover her nose for a few seconds to stop the bleeding.

"You know ... you remind me of a boy exactly like you"

When I saw that the bleeding stopped and the girl stopped moving due to the burning and itching that the alcohol was surely causing, I grabbed her hands and began to clean them with small touches avoiding tearing her skin.

“Just as intense and ready to fight for what he thinks is fair. You are just a little girl who was taught that we were the bad guys. It’s the way you were raised, the way you see the world. They taught us something else, but at the end of the day, apart from everything... we are the same"

It hurt. Yes, it hurt to see the one guilty of the death of my best friend, but it hurt more to see in her eyes the hatred and contempt they had taught her towards our race. The hate cycle we were getting into wasn't going to get us anywhere and it was better to nip it in the bud, even with baby steps.

When I finished cleaning all her wounds, I put the cloth on the table and looked at my performance with deep pride. It wasn't much, but it was enough; Not only had I cleaned a few simple wounds, but perhaps, I wished that perhaps, it would begin to heal her mind ... and mine as well.

I got up heavily, noticing how my knees creaked when squatting for a long time and I stretched my body generating more crunches, but noting at the same time how the heaviness of my back left and leave behind a much lighter load.

“Very good, you’ve been a good patient. Surely there is something sweet in the kitchen that I can give you” I patted her head again and gave her a sincere smile, one that I hadn't given anyone for quite a while. I headed to the door unconcerned about the situation I assumed was still going on in the main room.

"What's going to happen to Eren Jaeger?"

What will happen to him? And why does she ask me that?

"Don't worry, I'm not letting him put a finger on you" A sincere answer to a question asked out of fear. I reached the door and in the middle of the sentence I turned the knob wanting to make my way into the hall, but a tall figure blocked my way.

Eren was right on the threshold with the intention of opening it.

Well mark me impress

My body jerked back instinctively, avoiding taking my eyes off his. I moved to the right side, avoiding the figure of the Marleyan girl from being in Eren's point of view. I didn't know why he was here or if the others knew about it, but whatever the reason, he surely wasn’t alone and this wasn’t going to lead to anything good.

"Sit down"

He took a few steps forward, closing the door with his foot, not even paying attention to his surroundings, or maybe yes, now everything was a confusion when it came to the brunette in front of us.

"You can't tell me what to do" I planted myself in front of him, without taking a step back. We were both facing each other, him carrying me several inches tall, several dominating inches that made my legs shake and my heart race.

If it had been in any other situation, that trembling, that acceleration would have been very well received. It was impossible not to feel small next to Eren, the damn bastard had hit a big stretch and there was a great difference around the body between the two, a difference that I always loved to admire.

But not now. Not at this moment when everything was going to shit and I had to stand up to the figure of a little girl who was internally dying of fear thanks to him.

"Sit. Down"

Few centimeters separated us from each other, his chest too close to mine, I could feel how it swelled with each breath. He raised his hand to my face, letting me see his cut palm and dripping blood. Fear took hold of me, making me stand even more in my position, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

"You wouldn't" I looked him in the eye, defiant, longed for and everything in between.

"Try me"

It was all he said before grabbing onto my shoulders and pulling me back. My body collided with the table and instinctively I placed my hands on it. I heard how Armin and Mikasa tried to get closer to where we were, but a single glance from Eren made them stay still, submissive, as they lost in their positions. His gaze returned to mine. My breath hitched and I had to avoid with all my might thinking about the position we were entwined.

It wasn’t the time to think about how my hips were slightly elevated, just my butt up on the table and one leg dangling, his knee between my legs, preventing me from closing them and keeping the leg that was hanging in the air. His gaze wandered between our bodies and he returned to my eyes. He tightened his grip on my shoulders and pushed me to the side of the table, dropping me onto the chair next to the girl.

"I said. Sit. Down"

He took his hands off my shoulders, took the seat next to me and Armin and Mikasa sat with him, leaving an air of discomfort and tension in the environment.

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Tag List:  @aestosia  @amberciel ​ @sof-yeager​  @iwony​​  @curseofymir​​ @etherealkatrina  @teenageweaseldonutcash  @mariaerdgzn  @paypay0315 @despst  @kisekinokishi  @crazymar15  @futuristiccashstatesmansalad @gis21345 @urinejaeger  @zhilon  @dianacavendishh  @lucielbinon-binary @cryingforwill  @erensneedyslut  @ryan249057   @stardustmonkey @asahinsunakinnie  @obeymekookie  @witchymermaid12

[alwaysmarveling]

Sticks and Stones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: death (it gets pretty depressing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I do recommend reading Chapter 1 before this one, which you can find here.

Fair warning, I normally don’t read angst, let alone write it, so this could all be a failed attempt at a depressing storyline. But hey, I tried :) And thank you so much @vancityfire13 for helping me out with this chapter!

“Mama, I don’t want to go to school. I think I’m sick,” Igor trudged into the kitchen, his steps heavy and his brows knit together.

“You don’t feel warm, Igoryok. Why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast and then we’ll see how things go, yeah?” Igor nodded reluctantly as Natasha carded her fingers through his hair, trying to tame the bee’s nest that had formed on his head while he was asleep. When you entered the kitchen, you quickly adopted a look to match the frown on Igor’s face.

“What’s wrong, Iggy?”

“I don’t feel good.” You copied Natasha, feeling his forehead but finding it perfectly normal.

“What doesn’t feel good, Igoryok?” Your frowns only deepened when he shrugged.

“If you don’t tell us, we can’t help you.”

“I just don’t feel good, okay?” Both of you flinched slightly at his anger. Although he could get rambunctious and excited at times, Igor was generally sweet, always offering to share his toys with other kids and giving you and Nat random hugs “just because I love you.” Plus, he was four, and you weren’t expecting the attitude for another couple of years at least. After sharing a concerned glance with your wife, you knelt down and held Igor’s hand in yours, noticing his bottom lip wobbling and his eyes beginning to shine.

“Igor, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Why don’t you want to go to school?”

“It’s okay, Igoryok, you can tell us anything,” Nat reassured him when he started to cry, gently rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

“I don’t want to see Jackson.” You squeezed his hand, urging him to continue. You knew Jackson and his family; Jackson had even come over to play a couple of weeks ago. While you tried to keep the conversation going, you saw Natasha tense up the second Igor finished the sentence.

“Why don’t you want to see Jackson, honey? Did something happen?”

“Jackson said I’m stupid because my letters don’t look right, and he said I was a baby for having light-up sneakers. And he pulled me down when we were playing tag.”

“And your teachers didn’t say anything?” Natasha gritted out. It was obvious she was trying to stay calm for Igor’s sake, but any second now and Mount Vesuvius was about to explode, bringing all of Pompeii with it. Igor shook his head, his whole body trembling as he cried.

“They didn’t see it. He waited until recess and we were in the back of the playground behind the slides.”

“Igor, sweetie, why didn’t you tell them?” You tried wiping the tears off of his face as they fell, but they were quickly replaced by new ones.

“He said if I did he’d tell the whole class I was a weirdo because I wet the bed.” You butted in before Nat could start yelling, placing a hand on top of hers to try to remind her of the situation.

“I see. Igor, do you think any of the things he said were true?”

“No.” The muttered answer was hard to hear, but it was there.

“That’s right, they’re not. So don’t let that boy get in your head for one second, okay? For every bad thing that he says to you, I want you to remind yourself of at least one good thing about yourself, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Why don’t you start right now? Tell me three things you like about yourself.”

“Um, I draw good dinos.”

“That’s right,” you smiled. “Mama and I love when you give us dino pictures.”

“Maybe I can draw you one today in school.”

“We’d love that, Igoryok. Two more, buddy.” The redhead had relaxed slightly, her fingers beginning to comb through his hair once again.

“I’m good at soccer. And I have cool cleats.” You nodded at him, rubbing small circles over the back of his hand to encourage him to continue. By this point, his crying stopped, and he only paused every so often to let out a hiccup.

“I can read some of the big kid books in the library. Mr. Goldman says that it’s very impressive for a four-year-old.” Natasha chuckled as Igor puffed out his chest, Jackson’s insults long forgotten.

“It is very impressive. So-”

“Wait, Mama, I have one more!”

“And what would that be?” the redhead smiled.

“I have the two best mamas in the entire world. And they love me so much, and I love them so much too.” It took everything in you not to cry at that moment, and one look at Natasha’s face told you she was struggling as well.

“That’s right, Ig. Mama and I love you more than anything or anyone in the entire world, more than you could ever imagine. You never forget that, promise?”

“I promise, Mom, but don’t cry! It’s happy!”

“I’m very happy,” you whispered, giving him the tightest hug you could without crushing him.

“Igoryok, I need you to listen to me.” The four-year-old nodded as he turned to give your wife his full attention. “When Jackson says mean things to you, you tell him to stop, okay? Don’t be mean, but tell him firmly.”

“Firmly,” he repeated.

“And if he doesn’t stop, you tell your teacher. Okay?”

“Okay, Mama.”

“Miss Olivia is going to pick you up from school today, but Mom and I are going to talk to your teachers about Jackson as soon as we can, we promise.”

“Okay, Mama. Does that mean you and Mom are going to fight the bad guys again?”

“Yes, but just for a little bit. We’ll be back in time for dinner. Which means you have to be good for Miss Olivia or you can’t have any dessert,” Nat winked.

“Now, group hug and then it’s time to go to school,” you ordered, wrapping your arms around the two of them.

-

Igor remained mostly quiet on the car ride to school, which wasn’t unusual for him, but you and Nat found yourselves checking on him regardless.

“Mom, in school, Miss Taylor told us ‘sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.’ Is that what she means, with Jackson?”

“Well, yes. Basically, it means that when people say mean things about us, like the things that Jackson said to you, we shouldn’t let it hurt us.”

“How do you do that?”

“You do what we did at breakfast. You know in your heart that what he says isn’t true, so you ignore it. And then you remind yourself of all the good things about yourself.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“We love you, buddy,” Natasha reminded him as she brought the car to a stop. “If anything else happens, you tell us and we’ll help you, okay?”

“Yes, Mama. I love you too.”

“Alright. Then you have the best, most amazing day at school, okay, lovebug?”

“I will, Mom. Bye bye!” With a kiss on each of your cheeks, Igor put on the Avengers backpack that was half his size and jumped out of the car to meet his teacher and friends at the front of the school. With Igor out of the car, Natasha’s anger returned ten-fold.

“‘Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me,’ huh? That’s the best they can teach?”

“Nat-”

“You know it’s outdated, and it’s totally not true at all! Of course words can hurt, you know that, Y/N!”

“I know,” you murmured, thinking back to all the pain and chaos a bunch of reporters had caused over some rumors about the Avengers.

“And who does that kid think he is talking about Igor like that?”

“Natty, he’s four.”

“Being four doesn’t give you an excuse to be a bully!”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” you sighed, “but being four means he has time to change. You know that at this age they usually get it from seeing other people do it.” Two minutes of driving in silence passed before Natasha spoke up again.

“You’re right,” she sighed, her shoulders slowly dropping. “It just makes me so angry that he’d do that to him. And Igor didn’t do anything about it. What if something else happens in the future and he doesn’t protect himself? Igor doesn’t even wet the bed anymore. He knows that and he still let that kid scare him. Or what if Igor doesn’t want to tell us when bad things happen?” The longer she spoke, the softer her voice became as anger dissolved into sadness and concern.

“Well,” you placed your hand over hers that rested on your thigh, “the good thing is Igor is also four. It’s good that something like this happened now rather than later because we have time to talk to him and teach him that we’ll always be there for him. Today was one step towards that. It’ll be okay, Nat. We’ll make sure it is. Especially if we’re going to have another little one on the way.” Your wife smiled at that.

“Igor’s going to be an amazing brother.”

“He really is,” you laughed as you picked up her hand and linked her fingers in yours.

“I will admit, though,” your eyes returned to your wife’s face in time to notice her quirk an eyebrow, “I thought we’d have some more time before we had to deal with the ‘sick to get out of school’ trick.”

“You and me both,” you giggled. “That kid is too smart for his own good.”

“How much do you want to bet he learned it from Tony?”

“Well, he definitely didn’t learn it from Steve.” All the remaining tension in the car dissolved as you two chuckled at the thought. 

When the car became quiet once more, you brought her hand up to your lips. “I. Love. You,” you murmured, each word punctuated with a kiss to her knuckles.

“I love you more. And everything’s going to be okay,” she repeated, more so reassuring herself than you.

“It is. Now, let’s go over that mission plan one last time. We have some butts to kick.”

---

“Okay, Steve’ll meet you guys at the rendezvous point. Get in, and get out. And don’t let yourselves get caught. It’s just an info grab, but it’s an important one.”

“Got it, Hill. See you later.” After ending the call with Maria, you turned to Natasha. “You ready, hon?”

“Yeah, I just can’t help but shake this feeling. I know the mission’s short, but…” You tilted your head slightly to meet her eyes, which was a bit difficult since she’d lowered her gaze to the floor.

“No, I get it. I think it’s just the events of this morning, yeah? And it definitely doesn’t help that we can’t have outside communication.” After a recent mission gone wrong, Fury had temporarily prohibited all outside communication on missions unless absolutely necessary, meaning you and Nat would only be able to communicate with each other until Steve picked you guys up. “Let’s just finish this mission and get back to Igor. Things’ll be better after that.”

“You’re right,” the redhead agreed, giving you an uneasy smile. You rolled your neck once before giving your wife a quick peck on the cheek.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

---

“Where have you guys been? I’ve been waiting for two hours!” His check and money was lying on the table, his meal eaten long ago.

“Sorry, Rogers, a minor complication meant we had to be a bit more careful. But we got all the info, and there’s no trouble.” Natasha slid a small flash drive across the booth. He simply nodded, pocketing the device and standing up.

“Let’s go.”

“Everything okay, Steve?”

“Um, yeah. Fury asked that you guys stop by the tower first though.” You frowned, prompting Nat to slip her hand into yours.

“Is it important? We wanted to get back and see Igor. We told him we’d be back for dinner, and we’re already late.” Before Steve could respond, a waitress walked up to the table.

“Oh, hey! I see your friends are here. Do you guys want to place an order?”

“Um, actually, I’m so sorry. Something came up and we have to go. Thank you so much, though.”

“Of course, have a nice night, guys.” You flashed the waiter a smile and handed her two twenty dollar bills as an apology before following Steve out of the restaurant.

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he responded, his voice void of emotion.

“C’mon, you know neither of us is buying that. Is everyone okay?”

“Just hurry up,” he muttered. He was walking so quickly that you and Nat were practically jogging to keep up. You shared a worried glance with Natasha, but neither of you spoke up again.

-

After a thirty-minute drive, you’d reached the tower, and Steve sent the two of you up to Fury’s office without another word.

“Do you think we did something wrong, Natty?”

“I don’t see what we could’ve done wrong. We’ll find out soon enough, though,” she sighed. She sent you a small smile in an effort to calm you, as she could tell you were becoming quite anxious, but she was rather nervous herself.

Fury was waiting for you guys when the elevator doors opened, which only served to make the two of you even more on edge than you were before.

“Romanoff, L/N, follow me please.” He led you to his office, his demeanor stoic and unreadable as per usual, but something was off. As you placed a hand on Nat’s lower back, you found her spine to be stiff. She must’ve sensed it too. “Sit.” The three of you sat in silence for about thirty seconds, during which you realized what was wrong. The twinkle he always had in his eyes, whether from playfulness, determination, or something in between, was missing. That realization was enough to make you crack.

“Fury. Why’d you call us in here? I hate to rush you but we’ve got a kid to go home to.” You and your wife noticed when he flinched at your last sentence.

“Right.” Both of you stared at him expectantly but quickly became agitated when he didn’t seem to make any move to continue.

“Fury. What is it.” You placed a hand on Nat’s arm before she could jump out of the chair, but if he didn’t speak in about two seconds you’d be right there with her.

“We received a call about three hours ago about a car crash. A massive pileup caused by a drunk driver during the school rush hour. Two people were seriously injured.” 

“I- I don’t understand. You want us to help with a car crash?” you asked, your voice shaky but light. “Fury, with all due respect, this is ridiculous. This isn’t our area of-” 

“Why are you telling us about this?” Natasha cut into your rambling.

“Romanoff… this was three hours ago. Just outside of the elementary school.”

Three hours ago. What was three hours ago? Three hours ago would’ve been when Olivia was bringing Igor back home from school. But that couldn’t be what Fury was talking about. It was a different kid, a different family, maybe even a different school; Fury hadn’t been specific. No, you and Nat would go back home and they’d both be there. They had to be there. 

“By the time the ambulance got there, paramedics suspected that they were both gone. They called time of death at the hospital. I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t tell when exactly your heart stopped beating, when all the blood left your face. He couldn’t be talking about what you thought he was. He wasn’t even looking you in the eye, dammit.

“Gone? What do you mean by gone? Who’s ‘they’?” You spoke in a whisper, not able to speak any louder. With each second that passed, you could feel Nat’s forearm getting tighter as she clenched her fists harder and harder.

“Fury,” Natasha finally spoke, her voice gravelly, “If you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me, you’re going to have to be very clear with me. So what. Are. You. Saying.”

“Igor is dead. Your son is dead. I’m so-”

“Stop saying you’re sorry!” This time it was Nat’s turn to hold you back, grabbing onto your waist when you slammed your hands on Fury’s desk. “You have no reason to be sorry, he’s not- No, you’re wrong. That doesn’t make any sense. How in the hell would there be a drunk driver at 3 in the afternoon? No, you’re wrong! Nat, he’s wrong, right?” You looked at your wife, eyes shining, but her expression was unreadable. Her arms were crossed against her chest as she stood in the center of the room, and you couldn’t help but remember the last time she looked that alone—at the SHIELD party all those years ago.

---

She was standing in the corner with her back to everyone in the room. You didn’t believe it was her at first—sure, redheads weren’t that common, but how could it be her? You hadn’t seen her in months, although it wasn’t from lack of trying. Besides, this woman looked so unbelievably… small. And sad. And alone. This was a party, for heavens’ sake, and she looked like she was stuck in solitary confinement. None of those sounded anything like the woman you’d met.

But with a shake of your head, you turned back to the bar, taking a sip from your drink with the intent of clearing her from your mind. You got over her months ago, Y/N. It was literally just one date. Stop thinking about her. Besides, what are the chances she works for SHIELD anyway?

Yet, ten minutes later, the woman remained in her place and looked just as pitiful as she did when you first saw her. Your mind couldn’t stop your legs from swinging off of the chair and walking over to her.

“Um, excuse me?” Your heart stopped when you saw her face. It was her. She was glammed up for the party, but it was Nat, and she looked just as beautiful as the first time you’d seen her. 

“Y/N?” Your heart caught in your throat for a second as if you hadn’t thought that it could be her, not allowing you to respond until after you’d taken another sip from your drink.

“Nat.” You didn’t know what else to say. You hadn’t really planned it out, to be honest. Your body just kind of… brought you here. The two of you just stared at each other, neither of you too sure of what to say. Suddenly, all the anger you’d had towards her over the past few months pushed its way to the surface. “Did you lose my number or something? Get a new phone?”

“Y/N, I- what are you doing here?”

“Really? We had an amazing first date, you told me you can’t wait for the next one, and then you didn’t talk to me for months? And then, when I do find you, that’s all you have to say? I mean, obviously I was the fool for believing yo-”

“Are you stalking me?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Are you serious right now? No, I’m not stalking you! I work for SHIELD now, which you would know if you didn’t freaking ghost me!”

“You- you work for SHIELD?”

“Yes, I’ve been working for SHIELD for six months.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I… I have to go.” You watched her, your eyes blazing and nostrils flaring, as she walked out of the room. She never came back that night.

---

“I have to go,” Nat interrupted the silence.

“Natasha, wait. You really shouldn’t be going anywhere like this.” Fury stood from his chair but remained behind his desk.

“I’m going home.”

“Natasha, please, just hold on a seco-” Unlike that night, you followed Nat out of the room. The two of you were out the door before Fury could stop you.

-

When you got home, the house was dark and Olivia’s car wasn’t there. That didn’t deter either of you, though.

“Igor! Igor! Mom’s home!”

“Igoryok, it’s Mama!” When neither of you heard a response, the two of you frantically began running through the house. You searched room after room, checking each one and the hallway closet at least three times. When your legs turned to lead and you couldn’t breathe any longer, you dropped to your knees, completely unaware of what part of the house you were in.

That’s how Natasha found you—in Igor’s room, sobbing, your knees digging deep into the hardwood floors and your head resting on his pillow right next to his stuffed pig and the green baby blanket he refused to sleep without.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice broken and tears trailing down her flushed cheeks. Your wife stumbled her way over to you and collapsed by your side. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, she pulled you as close as she could, and you let her.

-

The two of you cried for what felt like a million lifetimes, not stopping until you physically ran out of tears, your eyes so dry that it hurt to open them. Your head leaned against Nat’s shoulder. Both of you stared at the wall ahead of you with an empty gaze, the only sound heard in the room being your shallow breaths.

“You were right,” you whispered, your throat dry.

“About what?” Nat’s voice was as quiet and hollow as yours.

“Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.” Miss Taylor had told your son that words could never hurt him, but she was wrong. Hearing the words that Igor was dead; that your son was gone; that you would never get to see him earn his high school diploma, or get a job that he was passionate about, or grow up to be a happy adult, or even hug him one last time; that you would never get to see him become an amazing warrior like you’d predicted just five years ago—those words caused you the most pain you’d ever felt in your entire life.

-----

Tagging: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[itsclydebitches]

I'm not sure which I'd prefer: If we stuck to Ruby's group in the void world or the show tried to balance void world with the plots on Remnant (or at least, Vacuo+Salem). Because the latter would be insanely bloated, but I don't know how they could stretch the former out to a volume's regular run time. Plus, it'd mean we go at least a volume left hanging on all the plots on Remnant and there's no telling what they will and won't go into in flashbacks in V10 and/or spinoff stuff like novels.

Though I honestly believe that both options have their problems and that it's a huge mistake for any time to be spent away from the main Salem action right when she's about to secure her victory... I'm leaning towards all of Volume 9 being in the void world, with an expected glimpse into Remnant at the Volume's end. You're right, trying to maintain both plotlines would not only keep the bloated state we've been dealing with lately, but would split it across three, possibly four main locations: void world, Vacuo, Atlas (where Qrow, Maria, and Robyn are), and possibly wherever Salem is too, if she doesn't also use Ambrosius to hop straight to Vacuo. Have we had a four-way split with the cast before? Sure, but these are rather different circumstances. It's not an even split among our four main girls, for one, and that imbalance means that every episode, or half episode, we may feel like we're wasting time on side-characters. Are we going to be interested in Vacuo when our four title protagonists (plus Jaune) are off in a presumed afterlife? Are we going to be invested in an afterlife side quest when Oscar and the others are doing the real work back home? I can't easily imagine a split where the fandom doesn't become frustrated with where the show is putting its attention. Better imo to have a full Volume of the girls on their adventure, perhaps securing power or knowledge to take back to the fight, and then return to Remnant prior to any major events taking place, so Team RWBY is actually a part of all that. Seeing Vacuo for the first time, meeting Theodore, dealing with the refugees, managing a new Maiden, checking in on the Relic, fighting Salem again if she shows up... is RWBY really going to start all that with just Oscar, Ren, Nora, and Emerald? I'd personally pull some time shenanigans and dump Team RWBY back in the Volume 8 finale timeframe, right when the group is getting attacked by desert grim. They are, theoretically, dead. Who's to say time is passing for them at all? Give us a Volume 9 on the island and then have Team RWBY reappear right where Volume 8 ended, ensuring the B Team doesn't do anything too important without them. This would also ensure that the B Team never has to grieve for the death of six friends because, frankly, I don't trust RWBY to write that well. I'd rather Team RWBYJ reappear before/right after the others learn that they "died" and everyone just continues to work through Penny's death, rather than watching an attempt at having them mourn to that extent, knowing the show is going to just take it all back.

As for the question of how to fill up that time, I think there's plenty. Actually, that's another reason why I think Volume 9 should be just the island. Are we really going to have the group die, end up in a totally new world, potentially meet the Gods... and tackle all of that for only half to a quarter of the Volume time? RWBY already feels rushed and fails to flesh out important story beats. We don't need to crank that up to ten by speed running through another reality, RT saying six months later that they wanted to include/explain/develop this, that, and the other thing, but there just wasn't time. The group needs to find each other in this place — that could be the split! — establish where they are, deal with Neo, grieve for Penny, find their weapons or get new ones (Jaune), hopefully accomplish something there, figure out how to get home, and then actually manage to do that. That's actually a huge amount to cover in a relatively short period of time, especially if we add in a subplot or two. Throw in a bunch of cool fights with whatever might exist in this place, give the characters the time to deal with the clusterfuck of Volume 8, establish the long-term goal of getting home, sprinkle in some short-term conflicts, hurdles, emotional moments, and you've got yourself a recipe for a Volume that doesn't feel like it's trying to tackle too much and cutting a number of very important corners in the process.

[ill-skillsgard]

A Truth and a Lie - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ smut/mentions of cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict. **mentions of impregnation and fertility issues in this part**

Note: This is Angstville. But that’s nothing new for this series! I know it’s been a while since I posted anything, but I’d really appreciate comments and reblogs. It would truly help me get back into the mood to write if you let me know your thoughts and whatnot. No pressure! 

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Sudden drumming on the desk startled you from your morning daydreams. Henry peered down at you with a secret smile, one reserved for the rare occasion he caught you slacking off, though Henry would always follow it up with a forgiving wink. Henry rarely caught you off guard at work, and when he did, he was lenient with his reprimands. Most of the time, you were an astute secretary and completed assistive tasks before Henry mentioned them. You were trustworthy, capable, and much better at keeping track of dates and meetings than his last assistant. In a professional sense, you were the perfect employee, which was why it pained him to ask you into his office that morning.

You sat down in front of his desk as he closed the door. Henry tried to smile while adjusting his tie and fiddling with the button of his suit jacket. By the time he sat down, Henry looked frazzled.

“I’m sorry to take you from your work,” Henry began.

“That’s all right, sir.”

You still insisted on the formal address, even behind closed doors. It never failed to twist his mouth upward. Still, he shuffled a few papers on his desk, sighed, then wiped invisible sleep from his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Henry?” You asked, realizing the meeting wasn’t an excuse to keep you close.

Henry let out another distressed sigh, touched your knee and then sat back in his chair. “I don’t want this, darling. Truly, I don’t.”

“Oh, God. Are you firing me?” You whispered.

“Baby... If you haven’t changed your mind about marrying me—and don’t worry, I’ll still propose to you in the traditional way—then we must separate work from home. And since you are my home, and every time I look at you, I feel my heart drop-kick in my chest, it means you won’t be able to work for me here. It’s only to spare us the headache and gossip. I can’t have my soon-to-be-fiance and mother of my children working for me.”

You pressed your lips and exhaled, as you’d suspected your days at the office would soon expire, especially after the news about Mary’s covert investigation. Henry had insisted he would take care of it, and you’d keep her job, but with the promise of marriage and children on the horizon, his guarantee lost substance.

He reached across the desk and motioned for your hand, intent on squeezing it until the urge to kiss the back of your palm overcame him. 

“Please don’t be mad at me, sweetheart. You’re the only person I want at my side.”

“I understand,” you said. 

“Really?” His eyes glistened.

You nodded, determined to soothe the regret on his face. “Of course. I want to start our family more than anything. More than I want this job... No offence. It’s a great job, my boss is ridiculously good-looking, and the pay is nice, but... I’d rather marry you and start thinking of names for our twins.”

“Twins?” Henry asked, cheeks burning and eyes glinting.

Again, you nodded. “Yes. It runs in my gene pool. We have a high chance of double-trouble.”

The man across the desk relaxed his shoulders and smiled wide enough to leave indentations around his mouth when he finally composed himself.

“Sweetheart, you make me the happiest man in the world. I love you so much; I can’t stand it sometimes. You’ve been the best employee and an even better partner. As much as it kills me to do this, it’s only for us. I’ll even let you choose your replacement.”

“Good. Then I can make sure you won’t hire some young honey to schedule your meetings and book your flights,” you quipped.

“I’d never—you know I wouldn’t.”

“I’m kidding, Henry.”

“So, you’re not pissed at me?” He asked.

“No, silly. I’m not pissed. I thought we’d be having this conversation much sooner, to be honest. But you held out until the last minute, didn’t you?”

Henry bit his lip, sudden darkness taking over his bright eyes. “I just wanna get you pregnant so badly.” 

You shifted closer, leaning over the desk and hugging your arms to your side to push out your breasts. “You mean like this morning when you woke me up at six AM to fuck me and fill me full of cum?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, running his hand over his face as his eyes fluttered. “Exactly like that.”

“Well, then I suppose since you’re canning my ass, you might as well take me out to lunch so you can tap it, too.”

“I can swing that,” said Henry under his breath.

You rose from the seat and winked. “I’ll see you at noon. Maria’s?”

“I was thinking more like Steel Heron.”

“Wow! Very fancy. I hope I can get us a reservation.”

“Make it under Deaver. That should do the trick.”

With a wiggle and a smirk, you quirked one shoulder while crossing to the office door. “My powerful Mr. Deaver.”

“I love you, baby. I wish I could kiss you.”

“You can kiss me all you want in the car later on.”

Henry chuckled. “You got it, gorgeous.”

~*~

When your food arrived after twenty minutes of indecision, you both wolfed down overpriced entrees, then rushed to the parking lot to duck into the backseat of Henry’s car. Once he closed the door, you wrestled his pants down to his knees, taking hold of his half-firm shaft to massage until he grew hard and breathless. 

“Get your panties off,” Henry panted. “Quick. Pull them to the side and ride me.”

You scrabbled to sit astride his lap, stretching your underwear over so Henry could prod your entrance with a few mild strokes. He bucked his hips up and met resistance, groaning already.

“Fuck, Henry. I’ll never get used to that cock. You’re so big.” 

“And I’ll never get used to this tiny little hole. Oh, my gosh, but you take it so well.”

You sank, moaning from every inch of flesh sliding inside. Clutching at each other, kissing with ferocious intensity, Henry gripped your thighs and guided you back and forth, the momentum rocking the car. The top of your head grazed the roof until Henry wrapped his hand around your nape and pulled you in for a crushing kiss.

“You okay, baby?” He asked, breath hot on your cheek.

“Yes,” you squeaked.

“God, I’m already close. I can’t fucking take it. You’re gonna make me bust.”

“Do it,” you said. “Cum inside me, sir.”

Henry let out a satisfied laugh. “Oh, I will, honey. You’ll be a mommy when the day is through. I’m taking you home later on and fucking you again and again just to be sure.”

“You’re gonna be a daddy soon,” you replied, running your hands through his soft brown hair.

He stuffed his face between your shoulder and jaw, licking at your pulse. “I hope so, baby. Fuck, I hope so.”

As promised, Henry lasted no longer than a few well-angled thrusts. The pulses and spurts filled you, sending shivers over your shoulders and up your neck. When he slackened from his fading orgasm, Henry placed you gently on your back and stared between your legs as your panties rolled back into place, a dark blot forming where his seed leaked out. He couldn’t help himself and reached over to rub your pussy over the thin cotton, feeling the wetness he’d left inside.

“Does it matter how long you keep it inside?” Henry asked after you both rolled down the windows for fresh air.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we can go to a bookstore to find some reading material? We can do some research together.”

“That’s a great idea, honey. But I have that meeting at 4:30, so I might be a little late getting out. If you want to leave, I’ll grab you afterward. You know how those guys gab.”

Henry helped you out of the car, offering his hand for support while you wobbled to the passenger side door. When you ducked in and put on your seatbelt, Henry leaned into the vehicle and kissed you long and hard.

You gave him a knowing smile. “I can’t wait… Daddy.”

Henry blushed all the way back to the office, happy to have you at his side wrestling with a smirk as cum smeared between your thighs underneath your grey pencil skirt. 

~*~

As predicted, Henry’s meeting ran late, and you didn’t wait to go home to shower before your outing. Though he’d smattered your legs with cum and it had dried in crusty blotches, you didn’t care. You’d shower and change into comfier clothes for your outing with Henry later.

You whistled on the way home, the repetitive song playing over the radio—something that would usually irritate you—catching you in just the right mood. The drive was long, but you didn’t mind. All you thought about was finding baby books with Henry, then going home to try your luck at becoming parents again. 

Daydreams of Henry’s future proposal tickled your insides and had you smiling as you turned street corners. Even the rotten news from Henry’s latest encounter with his soon-to-be ex-wife fell away, and you navigated the busy lanes without a care. A pleasant warmth filled your chest, reminding you of all the fond memories and good times with Henry to come.

Your love for him expanded day by day, with each minute at his side, and every breath you took. Why Mary tossed such an attentive man aside baffled you, but only enough to make you scoff to yourself and thank the higher powers for putting that same loving, selfless man in your path. Sure, your past wasn’t the most sterling love story, but it had room to grow into the relationship you’d always wanted.

Recalling Henry’s smile reflected on your face. His emotive looks and passionate eyes were always enchanting, even when he wasn’t in your presence. Sick with the intoxication of love, you sighed as you pulled into the visitor parking spot. Henry kept meaning to get you your own spot next to his, but extra work had taken away most of his free time.

You shouldered your purse, selected the fob from your ring of keys, and locked the car before sauntering toward the door leading to the parking lot stairwell. Up those stairs was the elevator, but you didn’t get that far before somebody cleared their throat from behind.

Whipping around, you noticed a woman standing near a Lexus. She wore a burgundy business suit with a knee-length pencil skirt that hung loosely about her thighs. Her hair twisted into a bun on top of her head, thin-framed glasses perched on her nose. The woman looked familiar to you, but in the dimly lit parking garage, it took you a few steps forward to realize who meant to grab your attention.

It was Mary.

“Uh, hi?” You said.

“Hello, Missy.”

You sneered at the address but soon dropped your sour expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to deliver you some bad news.”

“Henry isn’t here—”

“No, not Henry,” she interjected. “You.”

“Me? What do you want to speak to me for?”

Mary smirked, taking two steps away from her vehicle. You clutched your bag and drew your shoulders back. The woman posed no physical threat, but something about her was worrisome. Your only knowledge of her temperament stemmed from two encounters—both leaving an unflattering impression. Would she come after you? Did she have it in her to shed all professionalism and launch into a physical assault?

“There’s something I think you should know about Henry.”

You looked around the parking garage. Soon, cars would pull in, tired people walking by to reach the elevator. Mary had lived there at one point. Surely she wouldn’t try to hurt you when she knew about the surveillance cameras planted around the lot.

“I don’t understand. How did you know I’d be here?” You asked.

Mary chuckled. “Well, it’s the last Friday of the month, and Henry always has his board meeting at 4:30. He and all those stuck-up codgers never get out of the office until they’ve spent twenty minutes talking business and two hours discussing the prostitutes they took to this place and that, their golfing tournaments, their second and third wives. Trust me, sweetheart. I’ve been in your position before. I know Henry and his associates front-to-back. Which is why I’m warning you.”

A sinkhole opened in your gut, swallowing all the warmth and happiness you were feeling throughout the day. You scraped your thighs together, feeling flakes of semen come off from the motion. If only Mary knew her husband’s cum had been dripping from your slit since lunchtime. This secret fact made you smirk for a moment until you read the seriousness lining her forehead and framing her mouth.

“Well?” You encouraged with an air of impatience. “Out with it then.”

Not one to take orders, Mary clicked her tongue and shook her head. She longed to watch the disappointment on your face as she trampled upon your joy, so she prolonged the silence until you grew visibly perturbed.

“I assume Henry told you about what happened when he paid me a visit the other day?”

“Of course, he did. I’m helping him handle the case.”

Mary tilted her head with an audacious smile. “Yes. That comes as no surprise. He’d never clean up after himself. Henry always needed a woman to do it for him.”

You made a disgusted face, adjusting your purse strap and rolling your eyes. Mary carried on as a sleek black Audi pulled into the parking garage, missing you both by inches.

“He must have made you all kinds of promises when he got home, am I right?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because that’s what he does after he’s fucked up. Let me tell you something... After he jumped in the sack with you, he came home to me and promised to be a better husband. He told me he’d go to counselling, take me on a second honeymoon, buy me whatever I wanted. All because he felt guilty. I’m willing to bet he came home that day and made similar promises to you. Maybe even told you he plans to marry you after all is said and done.”

Your mouth trembled, and you were thankful for the dimness. You wanted to tell Mary off, but she had your curiosity hooked.

“How do you know that?” You whispered.

“I already told you. I know Henry better than anyone. Better than you ever will. We were married for over fifteen years, remember?”

There wasn’t enough air entering your lungs, so you opened your mouth and took in a deep breath.

“I wanted to test him. I had to see whether he really loved you or if he was just using you to fill the void. It turns out he has genuine feelings for you, but not enough to keep him from fucking me.”

“What?” You gasped.

“That’s right,” Mary said, smirking. “I told Henry if he took me then and there, right in the kitchen, I’d call off the renegotiation and let him have what he wanted—the clean break he needed to continue with his happy, albeit staged, little happy life. He took the bait immediately.”

“No, he did not!” You exclaimed.

Mary chuckled, taking another step toward you. “You idiot. He cheated on me. Do you honestly believe he wouldn’t do the same to you? That man was raised in one of the worst misogynistic environments I’ve ever witnessed. Look at the men he calls friends! Sure, they all have their trophy wives, but when they go away on business, it’s blowjobs in the back of strip clubs, hookers at 3 AM and sushi on naked women. Have you never listened in on one of their meetings?”

“I’d never. I trust Henry,” you said, voice quivering.

“You’re a dolt to trust him or anyone he associates with. Henry is a pervert. A useless, sterile sack of shit. Why do you think I turned away? I was sick of getting cheated on.”

“Sterile?” You repeated.

Mary cocked her head, then opened her mouth to gasp softly. “That’s right. Henry and I never conceived because he can’t have children.”

Your hands shook, and every breath you took shuddered in your chest. “That can’t be true. He would have told me.”

The woman six feet away from you shook her head with remorse. She allowed an excruciating silence to pass before sighing. Something changed about Mary’s face. One moment she looked smug and eager to rile you up, and the next, she looked calm, distant... Almost sad.

“There was a time when I truly loved Henry. When any time I thought of my future, I saw us together with several kids. And we tried, we really did. For months and months, we tried getting pregnant. Finally, we went to a fertility clinic, but Henry had his qualms. He insisted it was all chance; that if we kept at it, eventually we’d conceive. We got tested, but the results take time. Well, Henry went to Thailand with Frank and some other colleagues—and trust me, you do not want to hear the stories that came back with them—leaving me alone at home, fretting. But that didn’t matter. I was used to it.

“Anyway, while he was off living it up in paradise, I got the results back. The doctor said I was fine, but Henry... Well, I just couldn’t tell him. I knew it would crush his spirit. Something like that would destroy his will to live, and I couldn’t bring that down on him while he was hitting the peak of his career. He was raking in raises and promotions, and I was on my own path. So, I swallowed the devastating news and saved him the heartbreak because I loved him and wanted what was best. But as time went on, my life and our marriage lost meaning. I couldn’t look at Henry the same. I couldn’t sleep with him because I knew he’d try to get me pregnant, and there was only so much stress I could handle. Sex is meant for procreation, and we would never rise to the task.”

The air in the parking garage grew chilly. More and more vehicles filed in, filling the atmosphere with dizzying fumes. Overhead, the lights flickered as nausea worked into your gut. You began to sweat and shiver at the same time.

“No. I don’t believe you. Who would ever do something so cruel? You’re just saying this so I’ll leave. You don’t love him. What kind of wife would keep a secret like that?”

“A wife who only wanted to see her husband become the best person he could be, which, evidently, still isn’t so great when you take into account all the terrible things he’s done to us.”

You shook your head and threw off your center of gravity. The heels of your shoes wobbled, or perhaps it was your knees knocking, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was you needed to sit down before you lost balance and toppled over. Mary saw this struggle and crossed her arms under her bosom.

“Like it or not, Missy, Henry isn’t the man you think he is. He’ll make all kinds of promises, but he’ll disappoint you in the end. Trust me.”

[marias-studyblr]

Hi maria ...lots of love from India. I wanted to ask that why you chose medicine and what or who inspires you the most in this world?

hi dear friend!! 💗🌿 sending my love your way too~~

buckle up this is a long one!

🌱 why i chose medicine?

it's still to this day something ingrained in me and i don't really know how to explain an exact click. there wasn't a significant event that i remember. my first memory was when my primary school teacher asked me if i knew what i wanted to be and i answered doctor without thinking twice.

i'm one of those people who always knew their path for some unknown reason - it's not that i have someone in my family who is a doctor, i've never had any doctor in my life to look up to. i think i knew doctors healed and took care of others, and that people came to them for advice and resources but i didn't overthink it much. however, in high school, it became my focus. the want to help others in such a meaningful way, and the mystery of what i later learned was physiology and pathophysiology grew in me as i went through my high school years, and it was the only thing i could imagine myself doing. i wanted to become more, do more, and medicine was the future i envisioned, though i had no idea what it was actually like. now, i understand there were many more options if that didn't end up happening, but at the time it was the only thing i thought of or even applied to, even with zero confidence in myself... it was really rough mentally, knowing the kind of grades medicine requires and doing it absolutely by myself.

now, about to enter my fifth year, this dream has become a lot more palpable. i've actually seen it first hand and chatted about it with real-life doctors. the dream is still there though now it has taken a form in my mind if that makes sense? before i couldn't even imagine a doctor's routine, now i've followed it. it became something i can picture, something that is doable, and not this unreachable abstract idea. importantly, i've seen doctors struggle and reach for help, and that gave me an understanding of what the learning curve will be like and the reassurance that it's okay to not know everything.

it has become more tangible but at the same time more and more mind-blowing. i cannot believe there are only two more years until my childhood dream becomes a reality. there's a lot of stress and self-doubt involved!

🌱 what inspires me the most in this world?

i want to be useful and independent as soon as possible! that want has kept me going through my toughest darkest times. even when i didn't believe in myself not even a little bit, i believed there was always space to improve if i found a way. and that my future would look brighter because it had to, there had to be a purpose. i've always tried to explain my own emotions to myself - when i didn't have a blog or a yt to rant some stuff out i only thought or wrote to myself - focus on the light at the end of the tunnel, what that will look like.

maybe this is not making sense. T_T i'll try to rephrase. i've always daydreamed about a better future, i've always been very romantic even when things are shitty. even when i fail, i'm always thinking of the way out, something to do, i'm moving to make it happen. and it's not that i want to accomplish anything phenomenal, i've never wanted to be the best. all i look for is to be independent and live a quiet calm life. have my profession, my hobbies, my ordinary moments - i find so much beauty and content in that! it's what inspires me to keep working hard and when necessary get out of my comfort zone.

i know it in my bones that my anxiety and mental health will improve a lot once i start working and have some stability in my life.

so that's what is inspiring me in my studies and stuff :)💛 when it comes to wanting to keep improving myself mentally, in my relationships, keep learning new things, i definitely looked up to many people in my teen years, like emma watson, michelle obama, IU... or just random people i meet. i looked at their kindness, composure, confidence, how outspoken they are.

traits that i find are really valuable to have, it inspires me to be a better version of myself in the future. i learn how to handle myself in different situations better through experience! i can absolutely see a difference from just a few years ago, so i'll keep trying to learn and change for the better.

thank you for your questions, it really made me think and feel more inspired!💌

[quietlyimplode]

Five Songs.

Day 2 - prompt of Music for @clintasha-week Advent 2020

Five moments in time.

1/ St Ides

Crawling the broken fences, when shit gets hard

You know who your friend is

And when I lose perspective

Need to go to a place where I lose reception

“I just need a friend; not a lecture,” Natasha says quietly.

“Can I sit next to you?” Clint asks standing behind her.

“We’re on the top of a random building in New York, how’d you even find me?”

“Sometimes you come here when you’re sad. How can I not know?” Clint shifts from foot to foot, looking at her nervously. She’s sitting on the edge of the building. A move that would normally be his shiitic.

“You can sit.” Natasha swings her legs from back over the edge and looks at him. Jumping down, she slides down the wall and sits. Crossing his legs he sits next to her.

Tentatively he reaches for her hand, covering her fingers lightly.

They sit in silence, the remnants of the failed mission floating away in the moonlight.

2/ Toy Soldiers

I'm supposed to be the soldier who never blows his composure

Even though I hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Clint is furious. Angry doesn’t cover it, furious doesn’t touch it.

“I was thinking that we would lose more people if I didn’t.” It’s justified. Natasha thinks. What’s one life if so many more are at stake. Which Clint then calls her out on.

“At the cost of your own life?”

Yes, she thinks. Judging by his pacing, it’s not the answer he wants. She could placate him now or fight on this one. It’s an argument she knows is going to come up again. Fuck this. Let’s fight this one out.

“What the hell do you know? I made the right call. Without me they wouldn’t be on the quinjet back, without me we’d be at a funeral, without me..”

No more funerals. At least in the red room, there was no wakes, no funerals. She can’t stand the grief and the outpouring of emotions.

“You know what? Shut up. You made the wrong call, and it’s shear fucking dumb luck that you all made it out.” Natasha stares at him. Not luck. Clear plan, followed through by skill. Dangerous, maybe but not suicidal.

“So what? Just because you don’t have the guts to do it..” as soon as the words fly out, Natasha knows it’s a step too far.

“Fuck you and your fucking high horse.” Clint stalks out, slamming the door behind him.

.

They’re paired together 2 weeks later in a mission to Latvia. The tension bleeds through every interaction.

They’re made to share a room and it ends in another fight.

This time it’s physical.

It starts by Clint not observing personal space.

By the end of it, Clint has a black eye and Natasha has a knife wound on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t wrong though.” Natasha says passing him an ice pack.

“Maybe not, but either was I.” Clint passes her gauze.

“Truce?”

“Truce.”

3/ Are you with me?

I wanna dance by water 'neath the Mexican sky

Drink some Margaritas by a string of blue lights

Listen to the Mariachi play at midnight

Are you with me, are you with me?

“I love you.” Natasha says flippantly, grabbing her drink and clinking it with Clint's on the table.

“You’re drunk,” Clint laughs.

“Not enough to not know what what I’m saying. I love you.” She repeats.

“You’re serious.” Clint deadpans and laughs. “You’re serious.”

Natasha stretches out on the lounger, “as a heart attack.” She replies.

“I love you too, Nat.” Clint holds out his hand to grab hers and she grabs it, miss reading his intention and kisses the back of his hand.

4/ Konstantine

I can't imagine all the people that you know

And the places that you go

When the lights are turned down low

And I don't understand

All the things you've seen

But I'm slipping in between

You and your big dreams

It's always you in my big dreams

Natasha’s twitchy all day.

And the next.

It sets Clint on edge.

He tries to leave her to her coping. Whatever has triggered her this time isn’t bad (it’s not great), it’s not set off her ptsd (that he can tell) but it is frustrating (him).

She doesn’t stop moving, she doesn’t sleep and she’s more short tempered than usual. He forgot to take out the washing and she all but bit his head off.

He tries to stay away from her, spending more time in the gym, goes food shopping and the hides with Maria in her office.

By day 3, he’s had enough. Calls her out on it. Asks her what’s wrong and gets his head bitten off. Wrong move apparently.

He’s in the kitchen where he finds the writing pad where they write shopping lists, notes and messages to each other. There’s ashes in the sink next to it, a tell tale sign Natasha has burnt whatever her brain has been thinking. He shouldn’t. He wants to know. Any insight is better than not knowing.

He takes a pencil from the drawer and rubs it over the top of the paper. He feels more detective like than he’s felt in ages. She hasn’t hidden what she wrote well. But, he supposes, she didn’t expect him to be snooping.

There’s four sentences, written in her small neat handwriting. Each one drops him harder than the last.

I don’t know what’s wrong, I try and sleep and my dreams are..

He’s going to leave.

This is an exercise in futility

What’s wrong with me?

He covers his tracks, ripping the paper up and depositing it in bins around the apartment and goes in search of her.

She’s at the gym, sweating through whatever is going on. Acknowledging him with a nod she continues. He waits til she’s done and when she’s finally finished half an hour later, she turns.

He stands and goes over to her, and hugs her. Holds tight when she tries to pull away. Continues to hold it til he feels her melt into him. He tries to convey everything into it and squeezes tighter when she finally wraps her arms around him.

5 / work song

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

They’re in the hospital laying in beds side by side.

Clint wakes first, panicking she’s not next to him.

Setting off all the alarms, he falls out of bed and pulls himself over to her, pushes her across and lays next to her.

Safe at last.

______________________________________

1/ St Ides - Macklemore and Ryan Lewis

2/ Toy Soldiers - Eminem

3/ Are you with me - Lost Frequencies

4/ Konstantine - Something Corporate

5/ Work Song - Hozier

[spaceskam]

what's it gonna be? (1/3)

Summary: Max likes Alex, Michael likes Liz, and they are determined to be each other's wingman. Which would be a lot more successful if they didn't fall for their brother's crush.

| next

ao3

Michael Guerin quite liked everything that was Liz Ortecho.

She was smart, pretty, and nice. Maybe his standards were beyond low, but she still fit them all and really that’s all that mattered. The problem was she really didn't give him the time of day. She didn’t really give him much attention when he tried to speak to her and it left him not knowing how.

His eyes followed her as she held a tray above her head, twisting skillfully as she made her way towards the table of her friends. She sat down with a proud smile as her friends just took their respective meals. When he reluctantly looked away, he found Max staring at the same table. Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“Were you staring at Liz’s ass?” Michael asked blatantly. Max snapped his eyes to Michael, face flushed a deep red.

“No,” he insisted. Michael was more than a little doubtful. Max sank into the booth. “I wasn’t!”

“Well, don’t say it like that, she’s not ugly,” Michael said. Max looked at him with wide eyes again.

“I didn’t say she was.”

“Okay, shut up, we don’t argue about girls or boys at this table,” Isobel said firmly, a motherly tone in her voice, “We only talk about important things.”

“Like what? The fact that I know you failed your math test and didn’t ask me for help?” Michael asked. Isobel glared at him and he offered a smile. Eventually, though, his eyes drifted back to Liz again.

She was laughing, glowing in the fluorescent lights of the Crashdown. She looked fucking gorgeous. It was completely and utterly unfair.

As she got up to get back to work, his eyes followed her again. He wanted to go up to her, ask her out, get to know her as more than just the girl who could outsmart him during every single test without fail. It was hard to even imagine what he would say to her, though. His mind always went blank. It wasn’t even like he was bad at talking to girls or anything, there was just something about her that made approaching her specifically an extremely difficult operation.

“I’m gonna do it,” he decided, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

He stood up before Isobel and Max could change his mind or make him nervous, making his way to where she was now back behind the counter.

“Liz?”

When she moved to face him, the world seemed to slow down entirely. Her wavy ponytail swung as she turned her head, her face looking ridiculously picturesque. She was almost too pretty to be real, seeming far more fitting to be the cover of a magazine. Dark hair, big dark eyes, nice lips, nice figure. Her genetics had done wonders and he was always stunned by her, well, everything. She was perfect.

And he was Michael.

“Oh, hey, Michael,” Liz said, smiling wide and inviting. He blinked dumbly. When did she learn his name? “You need anything?”

Just ask her out, he told himself. It wasn’t hard. All he had to do was ask if she wanted to get dinner sometime. That was it. Simple as that. What was the worst that could happen?

“Coke?” he said lamely instead. She gave a little laugh, nodding her head. The antenna on her head bobbed and she grabbed a fresh cup, spinning around to fix him a drink. She handed it over with a pretty smile and he felt like his brain short-circuited all over again.

“It’s on the house,” she said, “Anything else?”

“No,” he said, wanting to hit himself when he realized he’d again ruined his chances, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Michael lamely made his way back to the table, ignoring the expectant eyes of Isobel and Max. He just tried not to seem too annoyed as he took his straw out of his half full drink and put it in the new, completely full one.

“Well, did it work?” Max asked.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Isobel snorted a laugh and Michael just did his best to ignore her as well as keep his eyes to himself. Staring at Liz wasn’t going to do anything. He just needed to do something that made it easier to talk to her.

Back to the drawing board.

-

Alex Manes was a goddamn gift.

Max bit his bottom lip so hard it nearly bled as he watched Alex in gym class. His gym clothes of choice were black sweats and a black t-shirt, not too unlike his normal clothes, and he was walking around the basketball court with Liz and Maria. He looked gorgeous, eyes lined with makeup and hair long and pulled back into a low, messy bun. Max didn’t have the right words to express how badly he wanted to speak to him.

The problem was that Alex Manes was far too cool to speak to. He’d gotten in two fights so far this year, both of which he’d won, and most guys in school stayed away from him for one reason or another. There were rumors that he was gay and Max had a feeling that was where the fights came from, but it didn’t bother Max if he was. In fact, he hoped that he was. It would take away at least some of his anxieties about it.

“Evans!” Coach called and Max was reluctant to listen. It was hard to watch Alex whenever he had to focus on the ball.

Still, he joined in the game of basketball and tried not to get distracted. It almost worked, actually, but all of his senses failed whenever Alex tilted his head back in a laugh. It was gorgeous and rare and Max was so completely and utterly fond. Why didn’t he do that more often?

Of course, that was when he missed that he was being passed the ball and suddenly he took a ball straight to the stomach.

Max doubled over and then fell to his knees as the wind was knocked out of him, desperately gasping for breath as Coach ran over to make sure he was okay. He did his best to focus on breathing and not checking to see if Alex had seen him make a fool of himself. That was more embarrassment than he could actually handle.

“You alright, Evans?” Coach asked. He nodded, slowly pushing himself up as he caught his breath. His stomach was sore and his lungs ached a little, but he was fine. “Alright, go sit down until you’re good enough to play.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said, nearly wheezing. He winced and Coach fixed him with a look, so he just went and took a seat back on the bleachers.

Alex and his friends passed him at that moment and Max thought about joining them, but that would be too weird.

“Max, you okay?” Maria asked, though. It meant Alex slowed to a stop in front of him as well and he wasn’t about to be embarrassed. Max had seen Alex get his head slammed into a bathroom stall and be completely unfazed, totally fine enough to hit the other guy hard enough that his mouth bled. Max couldn’t seem weak.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. Maria gave a smile and nodded.

“I have an extra water bottle if you need it,” she offered. He shook his head, his eyes not-so-subtly looking at Alex to make sure he didn’t think he was lame. He didn’t seem to have any reaction at all as he stood there, but Alex had a blank face most of the time. Max took it as a good thing.

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you though,” he said. She smiled and they went back to walking around the court.

Max watched them walk away, his eyes on Alex Manes. He was so, so gorgeous and he didn’t even know it. How could he? Everyone was so mean to Alex, Max was sure no one told him how great he was enough. Sure, Max didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he looked great, but still. He was sure he was great.

He wanted to get to know him, to ask him out, to find out what made him Alex. That was just much easier said than done. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Alex was actually gay or if that was just a rumor. Asking him out without knowing for sure might just make him angry. He needed a better way to find out.

He just needed to think.

-

“Can you believe this is our last Homecoming dance?”

Michael didn’t say that he was glad it was the last. He hated dances and yet he’d let Isobel drag him to every single one since middle school. Every single dance she’d had two dates in Max and Michael no matter how unenthused they were about the whole thing. But they had never been ones to tell Isobel no when what she wanted was so easy to provide.

“I think I’m going to ask someone to be my date this year,” Max said out loud from his place on Isobel’s bed. It got both Isobel and Michael’s attention, both looking over at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want to have every single dance I go to be with my sister.”

“Well, excuse you,” Isobel scoffed.

“Not like that, Iz,” he sighed, sitting up. Michael stayed in his spot on Isobel's beanbag, fiddling with the loose string on his shirt. "There's just someone I really wanna ask."

Michael bit down on his lip and wondered if he should make it worse by saying there was someone he wanted to ask as well. He looked between Isobel and Max and tried to guage the situation.

"Who?" Isobel prodded, "I thought only Michael was being stupid."

"How is liking someone stupid?" Michael asked. She thought about it for a second, clearly trying to come to some conclusion that would be viable. Both Michael and Max waited until she came up with nothing.

"It just is," she said, "It's a waste of time."

"I don't know, I think it'd be nice to have someone," Max said. Michael nodded.

"Yeah," he sighed, trying to rip the string and only pulling it out more, "If I could only figure out how to talk to Liz."

"Same, but Alex," Max groaned, falling back in bed. Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Alex? Really?" Michael asked.

"You like the bad boy type or something and didn't tell us?" Isobel wondered, walking closer and sitting on the edge of the bed. Michael brought the string of his shirt into his mouth to bite it off, trying to see in what world Max would like Alex.

"He's so hot," Max stated, "But I have no idea how to approach him without risking pissing him off."

"Get Michael to approach him to ask if he'd like you, he's kind of a bad boy too," Isobel suggested.

Michael spat out the string, "I am not a bad boy."

"Close enough," Isobel said, "Besides, if you both are going to act like it's hard to talk to people, might as well use a wingman."

"It's not that easy, Izzy," Michael said. She raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? Max gets to know Liz so you know what to say to her when you go up to her, you get to know Alex so he knows what to say when he approaches him. Or do I need to do everything?" Isobel said, sighing dramatically. Michael considered her words and looked to Max who was already looking at him.

"Would you be down to talk to Liz for me?" Michael asked.

"Are you gonna be okay talking to Alex? 'Cause I can understand thinking he's scary," Max said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Who, Alex? He's not scary, he just wears a lot of black and pouts a lot," Michael insisted, "Besides, he's friends with Liz and Maria. They wouldn't hang out with him if he was scary."

"So we're all set and we don't have to talk about this shit anymore?" Isobel asked hopefully.

"Well, wait, you're not gonna, like, fall for my girl or anything, are you?" Michael checked. Max rolled his eyes.

"I should be the one asking you that," Max said. Michael scrunched up his nose.

"Alex isn't my type."

"And Liz isn't mine."

"So, deal?"

"Deal."

"Fucking finally," Isobel huffed, pushing herself to her feet, "I'll try not to be angry at you both for ditching me in favor of being thankful this conversation is over."

"You're just jealous, Izzy," Max laughed. Isobel scoffed.

"Jealous of what? I could get anyone in that damn school if I wanted," she said, looking at herself in the mirror hung on her closet door, "I'm just too good for all of them."

"Sure," Michael laughed, looking back to Max, "You gonna start talking to her tomorrow?"

"Yeah and you start on Alex tomorrow and we'll fill each other in on what we find out in, like, a week. Sound good?" Max said. Michael nodded, biting down on his lip as he realized he might actually have a date with Liz by next week.

This was going to be perfect.

"Cool."

[prouvaireafterdark]

Our Heaven's Worth the Waiting

Here’s my take on @pastelwitchling‘s prompt! I also mixed in an anonymous prompt I got for Max and Michael talking about his feelings for Alex ‘cause it fit really well. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I didn't write Michael's poem in this fic, the credit for that goes entirely to Vlamis himself.

Also, while I wouldn't consider this fic anti-Maria, Alex is a little petty and there's a blink-and-you-miss-it reference to 2x06, which did not happen in the universe of this fic, so make of that what you will.

Also on AO3!

***

Max Evans doesn’t know much right now, but he can spot bullshit when he sees it. And this? This is bullshit.

From his and Isobel’s table, he’s watched Michael flirt his way through the evening, leaning hard against the Wild Pony’s bar with a bright smile aimed right at Maria DeLuca. He looks happy, his shoulders a little lighter, until Maria goes to get something from the back and Alex Manes walks into the bar with a hipster on his arm.

If looks could kill, Max is pretty sure this blue-haired guy would be six feet under. It’s probably for the best that he skips the bar and heads for a table near the front of the open mic stand, dropping a kiss on Alex’s cheek before he goes.

Alex talks to Michael briefly and Max clocks the way the airman tries not to let his eyes linger on the wide spread of Michael’s thighs over his barstool while he waits for his drinks.

He doesn’t miss the way Michael digs his right thumb into the black bandana covering his palm when Alex leaves, pressing so hard it has to hurt.

Maria comes out from the back room with a box of straws and that million watt smile reappears, almost like it was never gone in the first place.

“Is he always like this?” Max finds himself asking.

There’s a pause where Isobel follows his line of sight to Michael, now leaning over the bar to help himself to Maria’s whiskey while she takes an order.

Isobel laughs. “God, even without your memories you’re such a fucking cop. Don’t worry, she’ll make him pay for it one way or another.”

Max turns to see an amused smile on her face.

“No, I mean…” he starts, struggling for the right words. “Is he always pretending?”

Isobel frowns and glances back at Michael, her head tilted in confusion.

“Nevermind,” Max shakes his head, taking a sip from his beer. “Maybe I’m imagining it.”

Except he isn’t.

Max watches Michael and Alex dance around each other, trading glances when they think no one’s looking. He watches Michael throw himself at Maria that much harder one night after he and Alex fight, and he watches Michael’s heart break when that blue-haired guy—named Forrest, he’s since discovered—snakes his fingers up the back of Alex’s shirt like he owns him.  

He watches until, one night, he just can’t take it anymore.

“We’re brothers, right?” Max starts, leaning against a cabinet full of complicated medical equipment.

“Uh, yeah, man,” Michael gives him a weird look.

“We talk to each other about things then?” Max presses.

Michael laughs. “Not really.”

“Hm.” Max isn’t quite sure how his past self fucked that up, but he’s hoping he’ll be able to fix it. “Well, can we? ‘Cause there’s something I don’t really understand.”

Michael shrugs and turns back to his equipment. “Okay, shoot.”

Max takes a deep breath and decides to just go for it. “Why are you with Maria when you’re clearly in love with Alex?”

Michael freezes for so long that Max thinks he broke him for a second. “Are you fucking with me right now?” he asks at last, brow drawn tight with something that looks a little like betrayal. “Do you have your memories back?”

“Um, no,” Max says regretfully. “But I do have eyes.”

Michael sighs heavily and tosses the pipette he was holding onto the table, placing his hands flat against the surface. His head hangs between his shoulders, but he doesn’t say anything.

Max waits patiently.

“I don’t—“ Michael starts, but cuts himself off like he just can’t get the words out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You wouldn’t even know your own name if we hadn’t told you.”

Max’s mouth twists unhappily at the deflection. “Okay, but—“

“Leave it alone, Max,” Michael interrupts, a little desperately. “I’m with Maria. I like Maria. Isn’t that enough?”

The door to the secret lab opens before Max can respond.

“Hope you boys are hungry!” Liz calls as she walks over the threshold, arms laden with takeout bags from the Crashdown. Her thick, dark hair is tossed over one shoulder, and her lipstick is a distracting shade of red. “There was a mix-up with an order at the diner and I have a truly absurd amount of fries.”

Max smiles at her, stunned into silence just long enough for Michael to weasel his way of their conversation.

A week later, Max remembers who he is.

He also remembers his brother’s a goddamn idiot, and Max is determined to save him from himself.

“You want me to what?” Michael asks him, pushing himself out from under the car he’s working on to give Max an incredulous look.

“Well, you can’t exactly see a therapist,” Max says, a little defensively.

“So you want me to write a poem about my feelings?”

Max rolls his eyes at the disbelief dripping from Michael’s voice.

“It works, okay?” Max says. Michael keeps staring at him. “If writing something honest about what you’re feeling will make you breathe a little easier, why not give it a try?”

Michael stands up, dusting his hands off on his jeans as he stalks off toward the bench his mid-afternoon beer is sitting on. He takes a long pull from the bottle instead of giving him an answer.

“Michael,” Max sighs.

“Why won’t you drop this?” he asks, rounding on Max.

“Because I love you, and I want you to be happy,” Max says, amazed and a little offended that that needs an explanation.

“Maria makes me happy,” Michael protests.

“Does she?” Max asks, taking a step closer. “Or does she just distract you from the things you’d rather not think about?”

Michael glares at him.

“Look, do it or don’t,” Max says, laying a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “But you’re gonna have to deal with this eventually, and for your sake I hope it’s not too late when you do.”

When he turns to leave, Michael doesn’t stop him.

This is stupid, Michael thinks, laying on his bed with a notebook open on his chest. Max is stupid and I’m stupid for listening to him.

With a sigh, Michael rolls over and closes his eyes, shoving his face in his pillow. It smells faintly of Maria’s perfume, but his mind inevitably drifts to Alex, to that morning when he woke up to Alex kissing his chest and Michael forgot he lived in a world where he wasn’t allowed to have nice things.

It’s ridiculous. Ten fucking years, and he’s still reeling from Alex Manes.

Michael reaches for his notebook. Once he starts writing, the words flow out of him.

The fire crackles in front of him, a folded up piece of paper tight in his grip. He tries to make himself put it in the flames, but his fingers won’t obey him. What will be left, he wonders, if he burns away the part of him that loves Alex Manes?

His phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a text from Maria.

Can I come over? I need you tonight.

Michael’s mouth twists as his finger wipes over the screen. Max might think Maria’s just a distraction, but she’s—it’s more than that. After losing Alex, losing his mom, losing Max… she’s the only person who doesn’t make him feel useless. That’s gotta count for something, right?

But he won’t fuck her in the bed that makes him think of Alex. Not tonight.

I’ll come to you, he types back, standing up from his seat in front of the fire. He puts it out and slips the folded piece of paper into the back pocket of his jeans before heading to his truck.

He can be good for Maria, and that’s enough. It has to be.

Michael wakes up the next morning alone in Maria’s bed. He picks his clothes up off the floor, tugging them on roughly. It’s not until he puts his phone in his back pocket that he notices it’s empty.

His head whips back and forth, scanning the floor for any trace of that piece of paper. He looks everywhere, even under the bed.

Nothing.

With a nervous swallow, he leaves the bedroom and walks down the hall toward the kitchen. He sees Maria sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of coffee and a bottle of Jack. He tries to keep the panic out of his voice when he asks, “Hey, have you seen—“

The words die in his throat when Maria fixes him with a red-rimmed glare. It’s then he notices the unfolded piece of notebook paper in front of her.

Michael’s stomach turns to lead, an intensely violated feeling creeping under his skin. She wasn’t supposed to read that. No one was supposed to read that.

“Look, I can explain,” he tries, but she scoffs at him.

“Fuck you, Guerin,” she says, crumpling the paper and throwing it at him. It bounces off his chest and lands on the floor.

Michael leans down to scoop the ball of paper up off the terra cotta tile, shoving it deep in his pocket before he takes a step closer to her.

“Maria, it’s not—“

“Have you been fucking him behind my back this whole time?” she interrupts, looking up at him.

“What? No, Maria, come on,” Michael says, bristling at the accusation. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I would never do that.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, but he can tell from her tone she’s still furious. “So you won’t actually fuck my best friend, just write romantic poetry about him. Got it.”

Michael doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can say to that. He stands there, eyes on his boots, hands on his hips.

“When did you write it?” she asks a moment later, her poorly-constructed veneer of calm failing to mask the storm of rage and hurt he can see swirling behind her eyes when he meets her gaze again.

“What does it matter? I was just going to throw it out—“

“When?” she asks again.

He sighs, defeated, and looks at the ceiling when he admits, “Last night.”

It’s deadly quiet while Maria processes that bombshell.

“Get out,” she says at last, her voice cold and angry.

“Maria, I’m so—“

“Get out!” she screams suddenly, startling him. “Get out, Guerin! God, I can’t believe I thought you actually cared about me, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“I do care about you!”

“Not like you care about Alex, though, right? I mean, Jesus, Guerin. ‘Ten years and my heart’s still reeling’?”

“Please don’t,” Michael begs, unable to bear hearing his own words thrown back in his face.

“How the fuck can I compete with that?” she demands. “Why even let me try?”

“It’s not a competition,” he says.

Maria laughs harshly.

“It’s not, okay?” he insists. “I like you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she says, her tears beginning to fall. “But you don’t love me.”

She lets that hang in the air between them, as if waiting for Michael to deny it. He doesn’t. He can’t.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Guerin,” she says, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Maria,” he pleads, though for what he isn’t sure.

“Now,” she says. “And find somewhere else to drown your sorrows. You’re not welcome at the Pony anymore.”

Michael leaves without another word.

Max is only slightly surprised when he comes home to find Michael on his couch, head in his hands with his cowboy hat and a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him. He hangs his own hat on the hook by the door and slowly walks over to his brother.

“Michael?” he asks softly.

“I fucked up, Max,” he says, voice thick with emotion. His eyes stay fixed on the floor between his feet.

“Is this about Maria?” he asks as delicately as he can. “Liz told me you two had a fight,” he adds, which is really putting it mildly. He wasn’t privy to all the gory details, but he’d heard enough.

Michael shakes his head and laughs, but it comes out more like a sob.

“It probably should be, but no.”

“Ah,” Max nods in understanding as he carefully sits down beside him. “It’s about Alex.”

Michael reaches for the open bottle of bourbon on the coffee table. He takes a long pull before he answers.

“Yeah,” he sniffs. “God, I’m such an asshole. I broke her heart and all I can think about is Alex. Why is it always about Alex?”

“He’s your Liz,” Max explains, bumping Michael’s shoulder with his own. “You love him.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Maybe,” Max says, “but that’s not how love works.”

“You some kind of expert?” Michael turns to look at him, his eyes wet.

“Hey, you’re not the only alien around here with an advanced degree in pining,” he jokes, but Michael just sighs heavily and tips backward into the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling.

“I’ve wasted so much time,” he says, mournfully. Max watches a thick tear roll from the corner of his eye into his ear. “I think… I think it might be too late.”

“You won’t know until you talk to him.”

“I can’t do that,” he protests. “He’s with someone now.”

“Well, how long are you willing to wait for him?”

Michael takes a deep breath before he answers, “As long as it takes.”

“Then tell him that,” Max says.

Michael looks unconvinced.

“Just take it one step at a time, okay?” Max says. “When you’re ready, tell him how you feel.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Easy? Hell no,” Max says with a sympathetic smile. “But the best things never are.”

The sun is setting low in the sky when Alex pulls up to Michael’s Airstream, summoned by an enigmatic text from the alien asking him to meet. Given that barely anyone has seen Michael in almost two weeks, Alex feels justified in his relief to see Michael sitting in a lawn chair in front of his fire pit.

“There you are,” Alex comments as he approaches. Michael smiles at him. “You know, next time you decide to drop off the face of the Earth, a heads up would be nice.”

“What, you miss me?” Michael asks, flashing him that cocky grin. Alex has to fight not to blush. Truth be told, if he wasn’t getting regular updates from Max of all people that Michael was okay, Alex would’ve tracked him down himself.

“Maybe,” Alex shrugs, giving him a smile of his own as he takes a seat next to him. “What were you up to?”

“This and that,” Michael says. “Fixed some cars, did some research, went on a road trip for a couple days…”

“Oh?” Alex asks. “Where to?”

“Santa Fe.”

Alex laughs. “That’s not very far.”

“Didn’t want to be too far,” Michael explains. “In case something happened, you know? I just needed to get away for a while. Clear my head.”

“Did it work?” Alex asks.

Michael licks his bottom lip before he nods. “Yeah, it did.”

“Good,” Alex smiles. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he replies.

There’s a lull in the conversation while Michael goes to get another log for the fire. Alex watches him, really lets himself look. His unruly curls have gotten brighter from exposure to the sun, and his clothes—unstained, for once—fit his lean frame nicely. He looks good. Really good.

Alex is about to ask him why he’s here when Michael settles back in his seat and speaks again.

“So how’s, um, how’s Forrest?” Michael asks hesitantly, like he really doesn’t want to know.

Alex winces at the question. “Not great, probably.”

“Probably?” Michael asks.

“I broke up with him,” Alex admits.

“Oh, really?” Michael leans forward in interest. “When?”

“About a week ago.”

“What’d he do?”

Alex sighs. “You really want to talk about this?”

Michael shrugs. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Alex takes a deep breath before he says, “He told me he loves me.”

Michael’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Um, wow,” he says, and there’s a pause while he processes that.

“Yeah.” Breaking up with Forrest was hard, but it felt kinder than to string him along, knowing he’d never feel the same way.

“I’m guessing the feeling wasn’t mutual?”

Alex chooses his words carefully. “Forrest is one of the nicest guys I know,” he starts. “He’s thoughtful, and funny, and sweet, and he’ll make someone really happy one day, but… that guy isn’t me.”

Alex watches Michael bite his lip before he asks, “Why not?”

The question makes Alex sigh, his gaze dropping to the fire. “Do you really need to ask?”

When he chances a look over at Michael, he sees his eyes are wide with surprise. Alex swallows hard, needing to change the subject. He can’t listen to Michael reject him again. He just can’t.

“So, what was it you wanted to show me?”

“Right,” Michael says. He looks nervous all of a sudden as he reaches into his pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper.

He stares at it in his hand for a minute, as if mentally preparing himself for something. Alex waits as patiently as he can, though his curiosity is piqued.

“I wrote you something,” Michael says at last, running his fingers over the wrinkled, white surface. Alex’s stomach clenches in nervous anticipation. “Well, I wrote me something, about two weeks ago.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you disappeared?” Alex asks, connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Michael admits. “I’ve been so… mixed up, lately. After everything that happened with my mom, and Max… I did a lot of dumb shit I shouldn’t have, told myself whatever lies I needed to to make things easier. And I hurt people. I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” Alex dismisses. After everything his family has done to Michael’s, Alex considers Michael’s anger his cross to bear.

“It’s really not, Alex,” Michael protests softly, his eyes sad. He takes a deep breath and looks back down to the paper in his hands. “Max pushed me to try writing something honest. He said it would help clear all the bullshit in my head.”

“I take it he was right?”

“Yeah,” Michael nods. “And I think… I think it’s time I shared it with you.”

Michael offers the paper to him. Alex takes it, unfolding it carefully as he braces himself for whatever he’s about to read.

Alex scans the first two lines before he looks up abruptly.

“Michael, what—what is this?”

“Just keep reading,” Michael begs him. “Please.”

Alex swallows and looks back at the page.

a veteran move as you limp into frame

longing to be your crutch, I want to consume your pain

so I loosen my belt, a familiar feeling

ten years later and my heart’s still reeling

then you show up on my porch, floating down the stream

while I swim uphill, running out of steam

lies upon lies, thighs upon thighs

love a woman’s touch, but damn that guy

the one who lifted my heaviest sighs with ease

too much pride to beg; I’ll let my looks say please

so ignore my words, this is where I stand

you’re a pretty little liar, and I’m your man

“Michael,” Alex says, his voice trembling when he finishes reading. “What—What does this mean?“ he asks, desperate for an explanation before he gets the chance to hope.

“It means I love you, Alex,” Michael says, and then the words are spilling out of him, “I thought maybe I could leave this thing between us in the past, but I can’t, and—and I don’t know that I want to anymore. I don’t know that I ever really did.”

Alex is stunned into silence, his heart full and aching all at once with the simple, beautiful truth that Michael loves him. He blinks and Michael is on his knees in front of him, reaching for his hands as he looks up at him with eyes the color of smooth bourbon, fresh tears clinging to his lashes.

“Tell me it’s not too late,” Michael sniffs. “Tell me I haven’t lost you.”

“Of course you haven’t lost me,” Alex says, bringing his hand to Michael’s cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Then stay,” he begs, eyes wide and desperate. “Please. I’m asking you to stay.”

Alex leans forward to kiss him, too overwhelmed to answer with words. He pours everything he’s feeling into it and Michael takes everything he has to give. He makes a wounded sound when Alex pulls away, tries to push back into Alex’s space, but Alex stops him with a gentle hand on his collarbone.

“I’m never leaving you again,” Alex promises, looking Michael right in the eye, needing to see him understand how much he means it. “I love you too, Michael. I love you too.”

Tears finally spill down Michael’s cheeks as Alex kisses him again. Michael pushes his way up off the ground and into Alex’s lap, still attached to him at the lips. Alex’s hands slide down his chest to grip his waist, then his hips, holding him firmly.

The cheap chair groans worryingly under their combined weight, just loud enough for Alex to notice through the rushing of blood in his ears. He feels drunk as he pulls back, Michael’s lips leaving his to press needy kisses down the length of his neck.

“Michael,” Alex says. Michael only groans and bites at his throat. Alex’s eyes rolls back into his skull at the sensation, his hand coming up to weave his fingers through Michael’s hair. “Michael,” he says again, this time tugging his head back by his curls so he’s forced to look at him.

Michael’s eyes are dark, intense as he stares down at Alex’s mouth like he wants to devour him whole.

“As much as I don’t want to move right now, I think this chair is going to break,” Alex pants.

“Take me to bed, then,” Michael whispers, sending shivers down his spine.

“You’re gonna have to get off my lap if you want me to do that,” Alex responds, wishing he could just carry him instead so he wouldn’t have to give up the feeling of Michael’s thighs spread over his lap for a single second.

Michael whines, but kisses him once more before sliding off his lap. Alex grabs his hand and lets Michael lead him inside the Airstream.

Once they’re inside, Michael pushes him gently to sit on the edge of his bed. He climbs right back onto his lap, so close their chests are flush together, like he can’t bear the thought of even an inch of space between them.

Alex certainly isn’t complaining, especially not when Michael reaches back a moment later to pull his shirt off. Alex’s hands are on him instantly, savoring that otherworldly heat simmering under Michael’s skin beneath his fingertips. Michael lets out a shuddering breath against his lips at the touch.

“Off,” Michael murmurs when their kiss breaks long enough for him to get the words out. He tugs on the front of Alex’s flannel. “Take this off.”

He leans back to start on the buttons, but he doesn’t move fast enough for Michael, whose fingers grip his collar and pull, buttons flying in every direction like he’s living some kind of bodice-ripper fantasy. Alex doesn’t even have the time to feel put out about his shirt being ruined, Michael’s hands on his chest chasing every other thought right out of his head.

The next thing he knows, his back is hitting the mattress, Michael’s frame weighing him down, caging him in. He feels Michael’s hard cock against his own and he can’t help but pull Michael down harder against him, fingers digging into his ass.

“Fuck,” Michael gasps, grinding down.

Alex keeps kissing him, losing himself to the heat of Michael’s mouth, the softness of his tongue, the occasional bite of his teeth against his bottom lip. It’s nothing short of heaven, and Alex is sure he never wants to feel anything else for the rest of his life.

“Wanna suck your cock so bad,” Michael whines a moment later when he breaks the kiss, rolling his hips against Alex’s a little harder, “but I feel like I’ll die if I stop kissing you.”

The promise of Michael’s hot, wet mouth on his cock makes him throb in his jeans, but Alex shakes his head.

“Later,” Alex pants. “God, Michael, I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t stop kissing me.”

Michael groans before bringing their lips together again in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth.

“Wait,” Michael gasps when they part again, reaching for his absurdly large belt buckle. He doesn’t bother to take it off, just unbuckles it and gets to work on his jeans.

Alex gets the picture pretty quick. He unbuttons his own jeans and shoves them down his thighs along with his underwear, just far enough to free his aching cock.

Michael licks his palm and takes Alex in hand, hissing when Alex does the same before he leans down to kiss him again, a forearm braced beside Alex’s head to give them just enough space to work. Michael’s cock is hot and hard against his palm, and Alex wishes he could watch the way pre-come leaks from him as he runs his thumb over the sensitive head, spreading the wetness around as he moves.

It’s a heady assault on his senses—the smell of Michael surrounding him, the feel of Michael’s fist tight around his cock, his lips smothering the whimpers Alex can feel in the back of his throat. Alex is coming before he knows it, pleasure twisting hot in his gut as Michael jerks him off fast and rough, just the way he likes it.

When his brain comes back online, Alex uses his own release to slick the way even more as Michael fucks his fist. He barely has the time to say, “Come on, just like that, wanna watch you come,” before Michael is shooting hard against his stomach, gasping against his cheek.

Alex kisses him wherever he can reach as Michael collapses against his chest and trembles through the aftershocks, his clean hand running up and down along his spine.

Michael wakes the next morning to see the love of his life lying on his back next to him, re-reading the poem he wrote about him. He shifts closer to Alex and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“You’re awake,” Alex says, looking at him with a bright smile.

“You stayed,” Michael says, a fond smile tugging at his mouth.

“Told you,” Alex says, rolling onto his side to face him. “I’m never leaving you again. I’m in this, for real this time.”

Overwhelmed by the confirmation of Alex’s feelings, Michael leans in to press their lips together. The kiss is short and sweet, lasting only a few seconds before Michael pulls back, just to look at him.

“What?” Alex asks, a subtle blush beginning to color his face.

Michael smiles wider. “Nothing,” he says, dropping a kiss on one of his pink cheeks. Alex catches his lips with his own as he pulls back, and Michael is happy to let him.

“This is really good, by the way,” Alex comments when he’s had his fill of kisses for the moment, looking back to the poem. “Forgot to mention that last night.”

“Guess I distracted you, huh,” Michael says, smirking as he eyes the bruise he left on Alex’s neck.

Alex hums in agreement.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” he says, something in his chest loosening at Alex’s approval.

Alex smiles, but Michael can tell there’s something brewing in his head.

“What?” Michael asks, nudging his chin with his nose.

“I’ve gotta ask… is this the reason you and Maria broke up?” Alex asks, waving the paper in his hand. “I heard it was pretty explosive.”

“Yeah,” Michael grimaces. “She found it in my pocket.”

“Hm,” Alex hums, and a look of smug satisfaction graces his face. “Good.”

“Good?” Michael asks, raising an eyebrow.

“She knows you’re mine now,” Alex says as he shifts to lean over him, his right thigh coming to rest between Michael’s own. Michael shivers as Alex leans in to whisper in his ear, “And I don’t share.”