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anthrofreshtodeath · 1 year

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14.

Three weeks later! Baby is settled at home and slowly but surely I'm getting to these prompts. This one, "Warning Signs," is set in the universe of this little league fic I sometimes work on. I hope you enjoy.

___

“You did… you did so well,” Maura pulled a kerchief from her purse, and Declan turned his head sharply, thinking it was meant for him. He definitely was not crying. Instead, Maura wiped the seat on the dugout bench next to him before sitting down.

“I messed up that last play. I fell asleep,” Declan grumbled. His feet didn’t reach the concrete, so he swung his cleats. He hung his sweaty head, and then with a spurt of anger, snatched the hat from the top of it. He wrung it, and Maura saw the twitch in his fingers like he wanted to slam it on the ground, but he refrained. He respected it.

“You sound like Jane,” Maura told him quietly, with a small smile. She knew, despite her literal nature, that he didn’t actually fall asleep. He meant he hadn’t been paying attention. And that understanding meant she was growing.

He clicked his tongue and shoved his hat back on his head. “I’m glad she wasn’t here,” he said with no small amount of disdain. “I’m glad she didn’t have to watch that.”

And then, something else clicked for Maura. “She, she got caught up at work, my love. There was a breakthrough in her case that she had to…” she paused, mid-sentence, and wondered why on Earth she was defending someone who told Declan she’d be there and then didn’t show, no matter the reason. “You know what? Let’s go home. I can run you a hot bath and then we can order a pizza.” She bit her lip at using one of Jane’s tactics - one she’d never have even considered before - even though Jane was absent.

“I’m not leaving,” Declan, who had sounded eighteen just a minute ago, sounded more like his actual eight years when he scooted a few feet further from his mother. “I’m glad she wasn’t here.” He repeated it to himself, a lie like a mantra, like a balm on his fresh wound, one that had opened up over a very old one.

Maura felt herself growing angry. “Declan, we can’t just stay here all night,” she said. The lights remained on, the baseball diamond still illuminated at Teddy Ebersol’s fields, but that wouldn’t be for much longer. Her son, however, showed no signs of budging. He pressed his palms hard against his dirt-stained home white pants and refused to look at her.

“You can’t, maybe. But I can,” he responded.

“I- I’ll be right back,” Maura told him. She looked out on the grass because she needed a grounding moment. Her son, always the calm, collected kid, nervous system firmly in freeze mode, needed more than what she could offer. She hated that, and that hate came through when she stepped away to dial a familiar number on her phone. It rang just once.

“Hey, Maura,” said Jane on the other line. She sounded distracted, maybe a little bit out of breath.

But she’d picked up. Maura wasn’t sure if that made her angrier or softer. “You need to come down here,” she answered back. She was terse, and unflinching when Jane gave her a huh? “You need to come to Ebersol.”

There was a pause and Maura envisioned Jane pulling her watch up to her face. “Wait, you guys are still at the park? The game shoulda been over an hour ago,” asked Jane. “That’s gotta mean it didn’t go well.”

Maura hated that Jane could just know that. Jane could listen to her, could get one detail, and just know. And that was why she needed to be there. “He’s refusing to leave,” Maura whispered, looking back at Declan even as she turned away to hide her conversation from him. He looked so small there in their very own chain link cage, collapsing in on himself in that boyish grief of losing. She wanted to run to him, to gather him up in her arms like she used to. Instead, she sighed. “He keeps saying that he’s glad you weren’t here to see him lose. He thinks it’s all his fault.”

“Tell him it’s not. Tell him that no one guy loses a ball game for his team. Unless it’s a closer,” Jane told her, and a little humor bled through in her voice.

“Tell him yourself,” barked Maura. “You know he doesn’t mean it. You know it hurt him that you weren’t here. He feels adrift without you, and you’re nowhere to be found minutes before game time? With nothing but a text? You’re…” Maura paused. Then she decided, yeah, she wanted to go there. Because Jane went there. “You’re doing exactly what his father does. Feeding him empty promises.”

Jane croaked. Maura heard the gaping mouth on the other line. “I… I’m on my way, Maura. Gimme fifteen and I’ll be there.”

Maura didn’t reply. She ended the call, and went back to Declan. Not too close, of course. But close enough to be heard. “I’ll sit with you,” she told him. She placed her purse in her lap, over the dress she wore to work, and waited.

Maura waited with him until the sun went down, right around seven pm. She waited with him, saying nothing, only watching him watch the diamond, having slipped his glove back on and pounding his fist against the leather every few seconds or so. His eyes scanned the lanes between first and second, between second and third, and then the grass of the outfield.

After those fifteen minutes had passed, Maura heard the horn engage on a BPD issue unmarked. Declan must have heard it, too, but he didn’t turn towards the parking lot behind him. He didn’t even turn around when block-heeled boots knocked against the sidewalk a few feet away.

Maura turned, though. She stood up, and spotted Jane, in full work suit, approaching.

“Hey,” Jane called to her as she pocketed her car keys. The sweep exposed her sidearm just before her blazer draped back over it like a curtain. “Sorry, things got really crazy with a witness.”

Maura let her in the dugout gate. “Like I said, tell him. In a way he’ll understand,” she motioned to Declan, who had stolen a glance Jane’s way, but quickly returned to his feet.

Jane nodded. “Hey, kid,” she said. Her eyes crinkled on each side and she smiled with closed lips. She took Maura’s seat, though her posture could not be more different. She slumped, and she planted her legs far apart. Unconsciously, he mimicked her. “Wanna tell me what the hell happened?” she asked him.

Maura sniffed away the urge to cry. “I’m going to give the two of you some privacy,” she announced, and then exited the gate. She loitered, close enough to hear them, far enough for her son to think she truly was occupied on her phone.

“Sounds like there was a beatdown,” Jane goaded after a few moments of Declan saying nothing. “You get routed?”

Declan’s head shot up and he gasped. “No! Who told you that? Did Mom tell you that? We lost by a run!”

Jane whistled. “Sometimes that’s worse,” she said. “Home run?”

“Error,” Declan groaned. “By me.”

He had Jane’s attention. “E4, huh? Did a ball go through the wickets?”

Flashes of Bill Buckner ran through Maura’s mind. Three months of this and already Jane had altered the visualization patterns of her own mind. If she smoked, she thought she’d want a cigarette in that moment. Everything was so complicated.

“No,” Declan said. “The player on first took off and I was… I wasn’t anywhere close to second base. I didn’t see it coming and the catcher threw the ball all the way in center field. He scored.”

“And that run won the game,” Jane extrapolated.

“I lost it,” Declan whined.

Jane risked a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t jerk away. “I’m gonna tell you what I told your mom,” she started. “No one guy loses the game for his team. Unless he’s a closer.”

Declan offered half a wry smile, but took it back as soon as it showed up. “I had no idea. I don’t… know how to tell.”

Jane knew what he meant. “When a guy is goin’, there’re warning signs,” she said. “Always.”

“There are?”

“Yeah. Subtle, but if you start to look for ‘em, you’ll see ‘em,” Jane explained. She pointed out to first base. “Most obvious is his lead, right? Most people are trying to get a little bit of a lead, but when a guy starts leaning, meaning you see his shoulder goes toward you more than a couple times, he’s thinking of going. Go to your bag. But you also gotta look for the dance. Watch his feet. He’ll start tiptoeing around the base because it’s easier to speed up something that’s already movin’ than to start something from a dead stop.”

“Oh,” Declan breathed. He leaned his back against the bench and sighed. He closed his eyes. “I should have seen it.”

Jane shook her head, but she let him sit quietly. The sprinklers turned on, crickets sounded, and she tapped her toe against the ground beneath it. Declan let her come closer, little by little. “Listen to me,” she ordered.

He said nothing, but he didn’t defy her, either.

“I know it,” she told him.

“What,” he asked, but like a statement to keep himself safe.

“That agony in your heart? How it feels to lose? I know it. And that’s a part of the game. You’re gonna feel it and you’re gonna learn how to use it. How to let it fuel you,” said Jane. “But the agony in your heart because I wasn’t here when I said I would be, that’s not normal. That’s me, letting you down. And I don’t ever wanna do that, Dec. So I’m sorry. That agony is on me.” She was quiet, and she slid a hand closer to his on the weathered green paint between them.

Maura pressed her palm so tightly over her mouth that it hurt, but at least it kept her from crying. Tears fell, but just one or two. She didn’t even hiccup. She counted it as a win of her own.

“Yeah, ok,” Declan finally replied, timid. When Maura turned, she saw his head lift, watched it turn toward Jane.

“Ok?” Jane asked. When he nodded slowly, she did, too. “I’ll do better. Promise.”

“Ok,” Declan repeated. Then, he stood up. “I wanna go home. Mom said we’d get pizza.”

Jane ushered him to the gate. “Pizza? Sure it was your mom? You know what, I’m not gonna ask questions. I’m just gonna eat my slice.”

Maura waited for them, and by the time Declan emerged on the other side of the dugout, she had put on a smile. “You look better,” she told him. Then, she held out her key fob, and looked over at the Prius. “Get in the car. I’m a few feet behind you.”

He took it without a word, but his hand was kind when it brushed hers. His eyes were soft on her face. He even took her direction and climbed into the backseat, after he tossed his gear bag in the trunk.

That left Jane and Maura standing alone, a few feet from him and a world away, behind metal and glass and still under the light towers.

“Thank you,” Maura said. “Don’t ever do this again, but thank you.” She reached for Jane’s hand, threaded their fingers together.

“I’m, I’m sorry. I know it probably, you know, brings up-”

Jane stammered, but Maura cut her off with a kiss. The kiss tasted like coffee and peppermint, and Maura didn’t know which flavor came from whom. The thought that each of them could taste like the other made Maura lightheaded. “I hate having to think of Ian when I see you. Don’t make me think of Ian when I see you.” She said breathlessly. “I want to think about you.”

Jane looked down at her, her hair falling in both of their faces. “You wanna think about me, huh?”

“No one makes him talk like you do,” Maura explained, arms wrapped around Jane’s shoulders, lips pecking Jane’s one more time. “Nothing makes him light up like this stupid, stupid game.”

“Hey now,” Jane admonished, and they both laughed, Maura’s tinged with some wet. “Watch it.”

“I heard what you told him,” Maura said. “About the agony in his heart? You’re working on the agony in mine, too. Now let’s get that pizza.”

#ask anthrofreshtodeath #lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #otp prompts April/may 2023 #drop me a line if you enjoyed

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imafrickinglion · 1 year

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idk this post is a rats nest

We close on my old house tomorrow. The one mom bought on husband 2, not even husband 3 (and current real legit father, thanks for adopting me bucko).

I wasn't so young that I've forgotten everywhere we lived before then. I can clearly remember the home on mechanic street where we lost husband 1. He stole our cat and our money jar, our fish tank, and oddly the door frame that we measured me against and penciled in the ages. I don't remember that dad a lot. He forced mom for visitation and he took me to this other house a couple of times that I have flashbacks about because good things didn't happen there. Eventually she sued him and I never had to go there again.

But there are good times in that old place. Painting my bedroom pink, various renters we had in the 3rd bedroom, parties, our first Atari, our first Hurricane. Pumpkin carving one year. The old washing machine with the squeezey thingie and washboard we used for a while.

After that we moved into a duplex in another city for a while. I have clear memories of good times there, too. We still helped people out in our church community by letting them live in our basement sometimes. I had a huge fish tank in my bedroom window and we had to use pastry rollers to get it into the bathroom to wash it. We had parties there, a tree house. One year a couple of kids sold us some of our favorite handmade Christmas ornaments on our back porch.

So it's not like this third house is the only family house we ever lived in. But it's the first house I lived in with my sisters. It's the house they mostly grew up in. It's the house we *all* grew into adulthood in. And it's a house that all three of us have moved back into here and there to take refuge from bad situations.

Seeing it so empty was difficult. But I could not take care of it. It was a broken down husk of a house by the time I got to it. A contracting situation never resolved. I spent from 2017 to 2023 freezing to death in my own kitchen and living room. We had no idea how *awful* the air was until we left it (lots of open walls, open ceilings, old house dust, construction dust, dirt that just magically came from nowhere and never cleaned).

I never could take care of the overgrown gardens, or trim the lilac bush my mother picked out and had specially planted, or take care of the red Japanese Maple she did the same with.

I'm sad, and I feel like I'm hitting the end of things I can focus on to distract myself from finally facing the truth of all this. It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, with less and less things to stop you from falling.

But also I hope the investors make it beautiful again. I hope they clean it up and put new floors and open up the living space and make the bathroom shine again. I hope they put that gorgeous farm style kitchen in that'd make that small kitchen shine and that some small family or couple just starting out cook together in it and create great memories, like we did, baking pies and cooking for thanksgiving and new year's parties. I hope someone makes the gardens pretty again.

I hope whoever buys it takes such, such good care of it.

And that's kind of the best thing I can hope for. It makes it bittersweet. I couldn't take care of this family home but another small family might. I hope they do. I hope they fill that house with joy instead of misery and shame. I hope they build fires in the fireplace and snuggle up cozy in the winter. I hope they get a couple of pets, too. Maybe put in a new fence and get some dogs. We used to have this huge gorgeous black lab named Beauty, and when she had puppies, we also kept one named Ralph. We've had mice in that house, hamsters that escaped and got lost (but always found again). More than one or even three black cats.

I just... I hope the house gets loved again. I hope it gets used again. And that the next people can keep up with it and it never feels neglected again. Through mostly no fault of my mother or my own, it got neglected so much. You could feel it giving up, just like I did. I want the spirit of the house to be proud again.

So yeah, just... thoughts.

#grief cw #frickinglion mom tag

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katherynes-rkive · 2 years

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I don't like what you have become. Someone who hates their art. Someone who has no passion and love for the people around them. Someone who loathes their past self for cringiness rather than reminiscences fondly about the friends, passions and dreams they had. You're just bitter, cold and religiously obsessed now. You're as caring as a facebook mom sending thoughts and prayers to the deceased.

That's a lot of judgement and entitlement from someone who clearly has no clue what they're going on about. You should work on that, sweetie. It's really not a good look.

Thank the Lord I don't exist to please people like you.

I do not loathe the past, nor am I 'running away from it' (as claimed by another message I've received, and I can't even begin to understand how you came there from someone re-posting drawings they made as a teenager). I explained my intentions for posting these drawings at the beginning of my blog. That is my decision to make. My teenage years and childhood are long over and it sounds like you've got some major issues with regards to change and growing up, and I hope you overcome them or at least learn to stop lashing out at others. Because that's what you're doing, and it's childish.

I will continue uploading my old work here and I will continue deleting them from my own device because they mean nothing to me. You can take it or leave it—nobody is holding a gun to your head and forcing you to look at; let alone interact with this blog.

If you don't like who I've become after seeing a couple of recent social media posts and comparing them to whatever image you have of who or what I 'should be' based off the online persona I paraded around as when I was a sixteen y/o child, you can leave. 🌿 Stop complaining to a stranger you've seen online and now claim to know—because clearly, you're suuuch a genius judge of character. Judging from the tone of your message, and I understand you're the same person responsible for most of the other odd sixty anonymous messages that came into my inbox earlier, you weren't someone who ever actually played a role in my life; certainly aren't now, and never will. You may convince yourself you did or do or will and see where that gets you. I promise it won't be far.

Here's one for your other message—"You were so full of excitement. Now you just seem depressed." I can ensure you and anyone else that may come across this humble little blog that the opposite is quite true. I was gravely depressed during my teenage years, when I posted on this platform and others, desperately trying to distract myself with likes and screen names and livestreams as if it'd fix my real life. Tumblr was my happy place where I foolishly thought I could hide from the real world and 'start over'. Some people saw through this rather easily of course, but not everyone knew how much I loathed my life and my 'art', and I've never faulted anyone for thinking I was genuinely happy at the time—it's what I tried to make it seem like because it was all I had. I'm happier now than I ever was as a teenager. I am a grounded person again, and infinitely grateful to have come out alright, and I'm sending all my love to those out there—I know this platform has a few of them, especially younger kids—who may be in a similar situation right now. It gets better. You find your way, so long as you keep moving forward. Anon, I suggest you try the same.

Enfin!! I didn't come here to defend myself. Have a nice life, grow up, & bye bye 👋👋 I'm going back to spring cleaning.

#I don't need this attitude on my blog but I do want to address it #so this is the only one I intend to respond to—especially with regards to this topic—#and I mean to do it properly. 🤍#It'd have been fine if your tone wasn't that of a thirteen-year-old #who believes they've been cosmically wronged by the universe because of ONE Tumblr blog

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lunaxstella · 8 days

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Things I do to cope with my anxiety:

1. When I am put in a stressful situation, specifically when I become the center of attention, I try to find someone familiar and I feel safe with. I will, then, proceed to hold their hand or arms, or even their shirt, in order to ground myself and remind my buzzing brain that nothing is wrong.

2. If the aforementioned is not available, watch me go into a full on panic attack. Just kidding (not), you'll see me fidget a lot. My common fidget would be shaking my leg.

3. I try to remember everything that my psychiatrist, counselors, and psychologist told me to do to prevent panic attacks. One of the things I always hear them say is the breathing technique. The other would be the grounding thingy: find something you can touch, hear, see, taste, and I forgot what else. Basically, find things that will bring your mushy worried brain to earth.

4. After I first experienced having a panic attack while walking the streets because of eye contact with every being I passed, I stopped looking at people's faces, especially their eyes. Every time I walk through a crowded space (even those with a significant amount of people), I focus my vision on the background. That's why even if I know you, I won't really know you're there unless you make yourself known.

I actually loved looking at people's eyes because it tells stories. But, yeah, life.

5. I avoid crowds for obvious reasons. I already had several cases where I had a panic attack in the midst of chaos. Although, I started cruising crowded places again when I took antidepressants and all was good. I'm not sure if that will still be the case right now, since I stopped taking meds for almost a year now.

6. I am currently practicing this so-called nonchalant bull that's been circling around. It's stoicism with a modern touch. I also read articles about the sole idea of stoicism and detachment. Does it work? Sometimes, I guess? I'm an overthinker at birth. It's kind of hard to do.

In cases where I do go on a full on panic attack, I simply do my best to calm myself down. My body would be stiff, so you'll see me trying to massage my hands as hard as I could. You'll also see me crying because my brain is currently on hold to be logical and my body is slowly losing control due to stiffness. A school counselor once told me that one thing that could help stop a panic attack is distraction. It's what she said after I told her that I gradually calmed down after being annoyed with my sister because she took too long to respond when I was asking for help. (Not that it's entirely her fault. We were far away from each other, and I only messaged her because it was hard for me to voice anything out.)

It's a way to get you off your ongoing haywire of thoughts. So, every time someone calls me and they tell me that they're having a panic attack, I try to distract them with anything that I could think of.

Ah, I almost forgot. When I'm out in public, I use headphones. I play loud music in order to cancel out the noise around me. Sometimes, when I get overwhelmed with every little noise, I just put them on with no music played. The important thing is I feel like I'm in my own space. The only time I take them off is when I need to talk to someone or when I walk with someone else. It would be rude if I keep them on, no? More importantly, when I walk with friends or acquaintances, I usually don't need the headphones since my focus is entirely on them. My surroundings are blurry and I'm only attentive to the risks and hazards that may affect them. My friends look out for me because of this reason. I'm not aware of my own risks.

#cope #anxiety #mental health tips

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darkpoisonouslove · 2 years

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I posted 4,288 times in 2022

588 posts created (14%)

3,700 posts reblogged (86%)

I tagged 4,276 of my posts in 2022

#winx club - 776 posts

#once upon a time - 346 posts

#ouat - 346 posts

#fanart - 337 posts

#ask - 244 posts

#me af - 213 posts

#quote - 206 posts

#anon - 202 posts

#scooby doo - 201 posts

#writing - 174 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#“you should go to that place that you don't even want to think about and i'll come with you bc you have to do everything to find your girl”

My Top Posts in 2022:

Daphne and Domino's Revival

I am so tired of all the complaining about Daphne being brought back to life that is going on in this fandom. Some of the takes I have seen are just fucking outrageous in how utterly wrong they are. And no, I don't like what they did with Daphne's resurrection but to complain that it was a wrong choice or one devoid of potential is incomprehensible to me. The fault lies elsewhere but I'll get to that, too.

60 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Griffin: Why do I keep you around?

Faragonda: Because the alternative would be developing a conscience of your own.

67 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

Icy going "if your skirt shrinks any more, you'd be in trouble" @ Bloom in 3x05 sure sounds like she's mad because Bloom's short skirt is distracting her. Just saying.

80 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

Someone had to pick out dragon eggs for Alicent's children and we know that Viserys doesn't care about them. He seemed excited about Aegon at first but even for the son he was expecting from Aemma he didn't pick a dragon egg himself. He left it to Rhaenyra. I can see him asking Alicent and Rhaenyra to pick one together in hopes that it will make Rhaenyra excited about having a sibling but she clearly wasn't thrilled at the prospect so in the end Alicent probably had to pick the dragon eggs for all of her children on her own, with help only from the dragon tamers. So Alicent, who's been scared of dragons all along, would have done her best to learn about dragons so that she can pick the perfect egg for each of her children. I am ✨emotion✨.

80 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I was watching The Scene in 1x07 again because I'm obsessed and it's so obvious that Viserys has no idea how to parent. The only way he can think of making his kids, his family, do what he wants is to throw around his title as king. He does it when he questions Aemond and he later does it when he's "appealing" to - actually ordering - everyone to get along. He's constantly trying to use his political power in a family matter because he's just so powerless in this situation otherwise. No one is listening to him.

117 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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sunball · 3 years

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WHAT IS GOING ON IN YOUR PERSON'S LIFE RIGHT NOW + A MESSAGE FROM THEM

𖦹 this reading includes what is going on in your person’s life right now, what they (or their higher self) want to say to you at this moment and songs they'd like to give you. this reading is more about your future spouse or your future partner, someone who you may not be in contact with but you're curious about what they're doing.

𖦹 so there will be two paragraphs for each pile (what your person is doing and what they want to say to you). you can choose more than one pile. ex: pile 1 for what your person is doing and pile 2 for the message.

𖦹 how does this work? close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.

𖦹 take what resonates.

THE PILES

PILE 01

now playing:

pile 01's songs

THEIR LIFE

hello pile 01, welcome to your reading. I'm getting a lot of fire energy here, especially leo. I'm hearing Leo in 1st and 10th house, aries in 8th house, aries mars, mars in 10th house and also Venus in 2nd and 3rd house. I'm also getting gemini and capricorn. capricorn mars, aquarius venus. If these aren't your placements then they're most likely your person's placements. or perhaps, those are their transits. I feel a lot of confident energy from your person, I think they are at a good place right now. Your person has been betrayed and heartbroken quite recently but I feel like they're not trying to let that get to them. they're keeping their head high, focusing on their goals and working really hard. the pain motivated them to work hard, maybe as a way to get revenge? In their head, they may think that if they work hard, they can show off their success to the person that broke them like "hey, look at me now!". for some others, it's possible that they're working really hard because the work distracts them from the pain and the situation. they're acting like the pain isn't affecting them, I'm seeing them just laughing and hanging out with a group of people (their friends?) acting like theyre not dealing with any problems. your person is definitely at a period of time where work is only on their mind, they're hungry for success. success is the only thing your person is heading towards, it's the only direction they see. love isn't on your person's mind at all so I doubt that you've crossed their mind. but little do they know, the direction that they're heading towards will also lead them to you. your person may have travelled somewhere recently or maybe they're thinking of travelling somewhere else. there is change on the horizon for your person, maybe they will be promoted soon or moving countries, going to university, etc. they are so ambitious. I'm seeing piles of paper on desks, papers stuck on walls with dates and notes on them and also quotes. motivational quotes perhaps. your person is also working out, they could be getting up quite early. 6 am? I'm getting mad mars in 6th house vibes from your person. they're feeling burnt out, they have so much on their plate but they're not stopping anytime soon because they like it and also because they have no choice. they're also taking many responsibilities, I'm hearing house chores, work and looking after their parents or siblings. your person could be a student, a business person or they could work in an office. they're organizing their workspace and keeping track of their schedule, getting ready for the next chapter of their life. laziness is not in your person's vocabulary!

THEIR MESSAGE

you know, I am so busy right now. I'm too exhausted to even think about love, to think about you. I don't think about it anymore unlike before. I know at times you feel like we're nowhere close and you doubt my existence because of how distant I feel and I'm sorry. It is partially true, we're nowhere close to eachother and we're both individual human beings. let's live in the present and experience things and meet new people without having to think about eachother. I don't feel right about thinking of the future and just hoping for something to happen, hoping to just end up with someone like you. It doesn't feel right. I need to do something, I need to take action. that's exactly what I'm doing now. It gives me a sense of stability knowing that I'm taking action and there's a high possibility of my dreams coming true. I've promised myself that I won't stop working until I've achieved everything. I can't do all of this by myself, I need your help too. I'm asking you a favour, do your part. I'm doing mine. work hard and don't slack off. I'm sorry again for sounding cold, I'm not like this on a daily basis. I'm just really tired. I need to get my point across. don't slack off. please. I'll keep saying that. oh, that reminds me. at times I will definitely sound like a teacher or a boss, it's just a habit I got from work. It's not my intention to make you feel stupid, I know you're smart. I wanted you to know that because I don't want you to think I'm generally a cold person. I'm not. when tarot readers or psychics or astrologers or whoever says that I'm cold, they only mean when I'm at work or when I'm busy or serious. I would never be like that to someone I love, especially you. truthfully speaking, you don't know much about me at all especially if you think I'm a cold person. that thought you have of me stops now. I'm guessing that you're curious about me now. I like to look neat and clean, I don't like bright colours, they look unprofessional. I hang out with my friends sometimes and we just have lunch at a café or a local restaurant. I'm on my computer a lot so my back always hurts but I'm doing exercises to help me with it. I have too many cookbooks that I don't use because I don’t have much time, I end up freestyling my food and cooking up some eggs. I need to get better at managing time. I don't like people that don't practice what they preach, it irritates me. now for my appearance. this, in no way is useful information that will help us in any way but I suppose I'll just tell you. I have a sharp nose, it's pointy and a little wide. I don't have any piercings. I don't have bangs. as for my eyes, they're brown and deep-set. my lips? they're just lips. you'll love them anyway so it doesn't matter. my hair? neat and brown. you'll love it too. that's enough. you can stop trying to get to know me now, leave that for when we meet. you can know me more yourself when the time comes, I like the process of getting to know someone and the effort someone puts into getting to know me. until then, keep working hard.

PILE 02

now playing:

pile 02's songs

THEIR LIFE

I’m getting cancer energy from the pile, also pisces and gemini and libra. I’m hearing cancer/pisces/ libra venus, venus in 5th/7th/12th house, pisces moon, mercury in 7th house, cancer in 2nd house, gemini rising. if these aren’t your placements then they’re most likely your person’s, if not then these may be their transits. right now I feel like your person is trying something new, especially a hobby. I’m getting ‘painting’ for some of you. for others, your person has started something new like a project or they moved to a new house, something like that. there’s this feeling of ‘newness’ in your person’s life right now. they have so much passion for whatever this ‘newness’ is. they’re excited for this change, they can’t wait to move to the next stage. I’m feeling a positive energy coming from your person. their creativity is flowing through their blood, they feel inspired and joyous. some of you may not like to hear this but your person may have gotten in a relationship with someone or they want to get into a relationship with someone. they have a crush. I feel like there’s still an important choice to be made and your person has waited such a long time for the next stage, the relationship stage. I feel like their crush or their partner isn’t showing them that much attention, it feels quite one sided (your person giving more), they’re doing so much for their crush/partner but I feel like your person isn’t seeing it right, they’re just so blinded. like a little kid when they have a crush. If you don’t like what you’re hearing, don’t worry, they’re your person for a reason. anyways for others of you, I’m seeing your person listening to music while they’re doing their new hobby. painting is coming really strong, I’m seeing an easel. If it’s not a hobby then your person is feeling in love, whether it be a person or something else. their head is in the clouds, they’re listening to love songs, feeling so inspired by everything around them. love and venus themes is really important in your person’s life right now. If you’ve been listening to love songs recently or if you just feel all lovey-dovey, it’s most likely because of your person, you’re connected to your person. or if you feel inspired out of nowhere, it’s probably because of your person too. I just felt like I had to let you know that. sooner or later though, your person will realise that the relationship is one sided and they will give up on it. this will hit your person really hard, it will be a hard lesson for them. perhaps even the last lesson because I feel like your person has always done too much for people that don’t deserve their love. your person has experienced a lot and learnt many lessons except for this, when they learn this though, they will have learnt all the lessons. they can tick this off their box. I’m getting such wise Pisces vibes from them. for lots of you, your person is already in the 'realisation' stage and there's about to be a change in their life.

THEIR MESSAGE

It’s been challenging these days, maybe even these past few weeks and maybe even months too. It’s fine though, I can get through it. you don’t have to worry about me. I have a gut feeling that something is going to happen soon, disappointments? I’m not surprised, I’ve been so stuck in my own head. I don’t know why I keep giving people more. so stupid of me. maybe it’s not my fault? maybe it’s their fault for giving less, who knows. I don’t know how to stop. why do I do this? I keep getting disappointed over and over again, I’m starting to not have hope anymore. despite this, I still think love is beautiful. with the right person. love is not only limited to romantic love though, which is what I’ve learnt recently. I’ve been so fixated on romantic relationships that I’ve forgotten about the beautiful things around me. surprisingly, there’s love everywhere. do you know what I love? I love the stars, I love flat white coffee, I love the smell of fresh grass, I love nature and the sun, I love dogs (especially small dogs) and I love experiences. experiences that shape me into a better person, painful or not, I love those. not to sound masochistic – but I love pain. I learn from pain. love has always been painful for me but I’m still giving people my all, wrong people to be precise. Is that why I keep falling for people that don’t care about me? because I love getting hurt? now that I’ve thought of it, it sounds terrible. I need to fix that. I feel embarrassed now that you know this, please don’t shake your head. I will fix it. I want this cycle to end. don’t be worried about me. you should continue living your life, there’s yet so much you can experience. places to go, new people to meet, new activities to do. so much. I’d love to experience so many things with you. do you like road trips? I’d love to go on a picnic date too, does stargazing sound good? we could travel around the world, that’s on my bucket list. so many ideas but there’s still so much distance and time between us. I feel excited thinking about it, I want to do so much right now and experience so many things. by the time we meet, I might already have a long white beard because I’ll be so wise *laughs*. who knows, white hair does look awesome. I think it might suit me actually. on a serious note, I want you to know that you should not be afraid to try new things. don't be afraid of change. regret is scarier than change, staying in the same place and not growing is scarier than change. you may lose something good but what if you gain something even better? I’ll be there for you every step of the way, I’m always there for you even though I’m not there with you physically. do you feel me? I’m so proud of you. If you see an opportunity, take it or you’ll regret it later. don’t be afraid of saying no or saying yes, you deserve to be heard, assert your dominance *laughs*. I love you, take care of yourself. you can do it. [:

PILE 03

now playing:

pile 03's songs

THEIR LIFE

I'm getting mutable and fixed energy here, especially scorpio, virgo, leo, sagittarius. maybe scorpio rising and sagittarius rising with pluto in 1st house. I'm hearing saturn in 8th house, saturn in 22°, scorpio sun or moon aspecting saturn, pluto and sun or moon sitting in the same house. if these aren't your placements then they're most likely your person's. these could be their transits too. your person is going through a transformation, something had recently happened in their life that has caused this transformation. I'm thinking it's death, a death of a loved one like a family member, a friend or a pet. someone close to them. If it's not a death of a loved one then it's a death of a cycle, a death of a job, a relationship, something like that. something that came to an end. it's affecting your person badly and they feel so much guilt. they're missing and mourning over whatever this is. they're pessimistic, they feel like the whole world is against them and that their would turned upside down. they have no hope anymore, they're not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm seeing that image of Yuu Otasaka from the anime Charlotte. I think your person is exactly like that right now. depressed. I see tissues, dark rooms and hoodies and blankets. also gaming for a number of you (interesting how the picture you chose is a picture of keys). they're going through it right now and they need support. your person is not communicating with many people or interacting with anyone at all, they're pushing people away. looking at the picture of the pile you chose, I realised it says "wish you were here". now this could mean that they wish that the person they lost were still with them or they wish that someone could come and support them or comfort them, or for a few amount of you, this could be meaning you. they wish you were there with them. however, I don't think love is a thought that comes in their mind in this period of time. it's more like, they're screaming into a void wishing someone could hear them, not directly meaning you. for others of you, I'm getting a different situation. your person may have gotten fired or they tried something but it didn't work out and they had so much hope for it. they badly wanted it to work out and now your person is feeling disappointed in themselves, like someone just ripped away something really valuable to them. your person doesn't know that the reason this, whatever this is, didn't work out is because it wasn't meant to. It's not part of their divine plan. It honestly saved your person from future problems but they don't know that. It's a blessing in disguise. I'm strongly feeling it's something related to their job or maybe love, 'right place, wrong time' is what I'm hearing. your person is blaming themselves for it all, thinking it was because of time, lack of planning or they didn't try hard enough. It isn't true, they should be easy on themselves.

THEIR MESSAGE

I don't know what to say. I don't feel like saying much. why do you want to know anyway? do you care? am I interesting? I'm not all that special, you know. here I go again, making sh*t sad. I'll try and make this light-hearted as possible because you shouldn't see this side of me, not so soon. not like this. *silence* I'll start off by saying that you can't control whatever life throws at you. but you can control your reactions and how you deal with it. I'm not doing very well, not dealing with it the way I usually do. It hit me hard and I don't like being sad like this and not doing anything, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to talk to anyone, not finding joy in the things I love doing. I hate this f*cking feeling and the way I'm dealing with it. I heard that you should let yourself feel everything once in a while. I'm f*cking feeling everything alright. why did I not let myself feel before? now it's all consuming me. all of my problems and emotions, this darkness inside of me, erupting. I regret this. I regret acting like I was fine before, finding distractions. now I know that being distracted doesn't necessarily mean that it's gone, the problem is still there. don't do what I did. let yourself feel. or it will all build up and eat you alive. you don't want that. I don't want that. I don't want you to be sad, god no. definitely not like this. but if being sad will help you then that's certainly fine by me, just don't act like you're fine. that will hurt me much more. just do what I say. showing emotions is not a sign of weakness. look at me, I'm so f*cked up because of not thinking that. this feeling will go away, right? right. If you need to let it all out, do it. I can feel your sadness, the nights you cried, I felt them. those tears of yours, I want to wipe them away but I'm not there. it sucks. I need you here. I need a good f*cking hug right now. I want you to be happy but I don't know how. I'd do anything to see that smile of yours. that precious smile that I have yet to see. I know it's precious. listen to me. I need you. I need you to stay strong. you're so strong and much more emotionally intelligent than I am. I am so in awe. your strength gives me energy, you give me energy. you're the light of my life. I hope our kids will be as beautiful and as amazing as you. I'm glad I was given the chance to talk to you like this. I love you, sunshine.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pac #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pick a card tarot #astrology observations #pick a pile tarot #sunballtarot #pac reading #pac tarot #free readings

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lovely-echoo · 3 years

Text

Sleepy Bois Inc x FranBow!Reader

In-game AU

Part 1/? Pt.2

Plantonic!SBI x Young!Reader

(10/11 years old)

OneShot/Drabble(?)

Genderneutral reader (they/them) 💜

INFO; If you haven't played or seen game play of Fran Bow then you can skip this if you'd like. If you don't care then go ahead.

Summary; Basically if you've seen/played the game you should know how this goes, you take place of Fran. So you go/went through the same things she did and you still have Mr. Midnight. This takes place while Fran is still in the mental hospital and then got teleported near the SBI.

Honestly I kept thinking about this but was afraid to request it to anyone so I'm doing it my myself-

If I get any info wrong, I'm sorry! I rewatched Markiplier's game play so it shouldn't be way off.

P.s not everything is described the same.

(^ art by sunquids on twt)

CW/TW: mentions/includes of cussing, gore, death, blood, consumption of medication, sexual assault (brief mentions of Damian/The King)

Fluff/Normal

(Angst if you squint)

How you ended up there - How you met Philza and Technoblade

As you were walking around the hospital, you decided to take a pill to see if it'll help.

You watched as your vision blurred and some sort of demonic noises rang in your ears.

After a few seconds your vision cleared up, you took a look around the front desk.

The once dull and lifeless room had turned into this even duller and just plain deathly like room.

Blood was everywhere, random body parts of babies where thrown around. A skeletal figure was hung with what looked like an umbilical cord wrapped around its thin bones, it was connected to this baby covered by a blue blanket.

Just about everything looked grotesque.

Suddenly the floor ahead of you opened and this slimy black tentacle like arm grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in.

It seemed you may have passed out during your fall because you woke up to the sounds of hissing and supposedly two men.

Oh and let's not forget the killer headache causing the ringing in your ears. :)

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, the light around you seemed much brighter than before.

You looked at the two men in front of you and then glanced down, you spotted Mr. Midnight!

His fur was spiked up and his ears were flat against his head. He seemed to be trying to protect you from the men.

Ignoring their presence you immediately scooped up your precious fur baby in your arms.

Your mind completely forgot about the fact there are two strange looking men in front of you.

A few droplets of water dripped down your (S/C) cheeks onto your (F/C) shirt/dress.

You started crying, so much happened in a short period of time and you found your cat you oh so desperately tried to find.

It panicked one of the adults. Said adult was an average tall man with slightly longer blond hair than average, he also had a green and white striped bucket hat. But what stuck out the most was the large pair of wings behind his back.

At first you thought that it was your pills fault but everywhere around you looked….

Normal?

It seemed like your meds wore off while you supposedly passed out.

But that doesn’t help or ease you at all. If the side effects wore off then how the hell did he have wings?!

The blond walked towards you slowly, like you were an injured puppy. His blue eyes roamed around your body, as if studying your every mouvements.

The other man who was beside him earlier seemed to tense up and looked at him as if he grew another head. He was on edge you assumed.

But he looked even weirder to you. He had long pink hair tied into a loose braid falling over his shoulder. Was it natural? He also had tusks peeking out from his bottom lip, they were large but not enough to be in the way. His skin seemed to be on the pinker side, it was roughed up with scars and calloused in certain areas. You noticed he had pig ears poking out his crown. Is he a king of sorts? Wait, that reminds you of someome... Oh! The king of course!

Ah yes, the king. You quite missed him actually, he was playful and let you use his cane- sword to get a key. But he didn't know about that part. You wonder if he's doing alright right know, the asylum sucks. And the shadow thing next to him said weird things to. Who exactly is the holy man? Why'd the shadow say he took off his clothes?

You couldn't dwell on it to much as you got distracted by the approaching man.

He reached out his hand to stop the winged male. “Phil-”

But the man named ‘Phil’ interrupted the crowned male by putting up his hand. He stopped his hand and let it limp to his side.

“It’s alright Tech, they seem harmless.” ‘Phil’ reassured, though ‘Tech’ nodded his head with a stern expression. There was still hesitance in his sharp red eyes.

‘Phil’ took the same hand he put up and reached it out to you. A soft and kind look in his eyes, you could’ve gotten lost in them if you weren’t careful.

“You alright there kid?” He asked, crouching down to meet your height from where you sat.

“Y-yeah, I think so…” You winced, your throat was hoarse and dry. You peered at ‘Phil’ as he took out this glass bottle with what you assumed was water.

He handed you the fragile bottle, he saw the look of hesitance in your childlike eyes. But something about them set off alarms in his head, they were dull. There’s nothing wrong with that of course! But they were too dull, at least for a mere kid.

He recognized a glint of trauma in your (Eye Shape) eyes, those beautiful (E/C) orbs had seen something they shouldn’t have. Haven’t they?

“Don’t worry mate, it’s fresh water.” He examined the way you handled the cork, you were inexperienced. He could tell you’ve never needed to do it, but why? It’s really the only way so far to keep water with you.

Did you not have any?

While he was lost in thought, you just had noticed he had an accent of sorts. Nothing wrong with it, you've just never heard of someone with it.

(^ Ignore that if you are british)

While the winged male was off in his own world the piglin hybrid watched as you sniffed the clear liquid in suspicion before letting your cat smell it as if you were looking for their approval.

To his surprise they did give it to you, the black cat nodded it’s head and squeaked out a meow. That strangely sounded like a yes- but he dismissed the thought. Probably was just the voices fucking with him.

You gulped down the water as if you hadn’t had any for months.

‘Why tf are they so desperate-’ ‘lowkey kinda concerned lmao’ ‘they look like they’d be an orphan tho’ ‘lmao maybe’ ‘idc about the kid, i want the cat’ ‘absolutely-’ ‘Nah fuck the cat, im allergic.’ ‘lol and?’ 'PFT ANY ASKERS???'

Those were all different voices speaking and overlapping each other.

Technoblade sighed as he glanced at his father, he knew him on the back of his hand. He let him be and slowly walked next to Phil and kneeled down.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked, taking the empty bottle you had handed him. “(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n)/Bow.” You bluntly answered, looking at him in the eyes. He noticed how bloodshot they were, I mean you did cry not even 5 minutes ago.

"What's yours?" You questioned tilting your head a bit in the process.

Unbeknownst to you, some voices in a certain someone's head were losing their shit, squealing and chanting ‘protecc tiny bean’ over and over again.

"The name's Technoblade, but you can call me Techno." Strange name in your book but your not the one to judge. You simply nodded your head in acknowledgement.

"That guy is Philza, but you can call him Phil." He pointed his thumb to the unfocused man. Technoblade or Techno- cleared his throat.

“You’ve got somewhere to stay? Where are your parents?” “Why can’t you mind your business?”

Techno’s eyes twitched in annoyance and his teeth clenched to hold back any crude words.

Although he noticed the flash of pain in those dull (E/C) orbs of the mentions of your parents.

He sighed once again, something you noticed he did a lot. At least, so far he did.

“Look kid, do you have a place to stay or not?”

And that's how you ended up meeting your new family. . . <3

I may include a taglist if anyone's up to be tagged lmao

#mcyt x reader #platonic x reader #tommy innit x y/n #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #wilbur x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #sbi x reader #fluff #mcyt #fran bow #franbow!reader #reader as fran bow #mr. midnight #cat #tiny bit of angst #only if you squint tho

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simplyasimp456 · 2 years

Text

It's Better to Have Loved and Lost, Than to Have Not Loved At All (Chapter 362 Continuation)

Chapter 1

When Kachaan died everything changed. After killing Shigaraki, I disappeared off the map. I took a leisure vacation from reality just sleeping in my childhood bedroom at my mom’s house. Everyday I would wake up contemplating everything I did wrong, going over details in excruciatingly long intervals. I filled notebooks writing down what I could have done differently. Maybe if I was just a little faster, maybe if I hadn’t eaten a specific food item, or maybe if I wasn’t distracted thinking about Uraraka.

That’s where our relationship died and it’s my fault. When I returned to school I intentionally blew her off at every attempt to speak to me. I know I broke her heart, I know she didn’t deserve it. I just didn't care because my best friend was gone. After I made how I felt clear, I fucked Momo and I never stopped there. I became disgustingly driven by only two things, sex and being a hero.

Here I am at 23 years old, the number one hero in Japan and a secret dirtbag among women. Is this how I imagined my life? Absolutely not. I thought I would’ve been married by now to Uraraka with a kid on the way but I fucked that up. Now waking up next to my recurring lay Camie, I feel nothing. Even as she slides down my body putting my cock in her mouth. I don’t feel any kind of emotion.

“Mornin’ ‘Zuku daddy.”

“Hell of a morning to wake up to, ah-, what’s the occasion?”

“Thought you would enjoy it, aaaand hoping that you would fuck me hard before my shift.”

She pouts.

“I still haven’t caught the villain that's been breaking into houses downtown.”

She licks a stripe up the middle and engulfs the entire length down her throat bobbing her head. Such a good slut, give her a little attention and she would do anything she could to keep it coming. Reaching down a hand wrapping her hair around it, I begin a ruthless pace of fucking her mouth. She gags around the length, spit dripping out of her mouth relaxing her throat to accommodate the whole thing. She pulls off with an angry look.

“What about me?”

With a roll of my eyes, I lay her on her back and thrust into her all at once. She cries out and reaches to scratch at my back. I don’t let up, beginning a ruthless pace until the lewd squelching noises fill the room. She screams trying to grab onto me wherever she can. I don't care how she feels right now, it's the morning and I'm not in the mood for her outside of my own pleasure.

With drool slipping down her chin, I slam into her until my seed is dripping out around the seam of her lips around my cock. Pulling out with a grunt, I head to my shower.

“That’s it? I came over and spent the night just to be half satisfied?”

Turning around, I look her in the eyes.

“You know where the door is.”

When I return she’s gone. The empty house is a breath of fresh air, especially with how much she talks without my dick in her mouth. Such an airhead. I still can’t believe Kachaan spent so much time with her to get his hero license.

#chapter 362 spoilers #bnha smut #izuku x reader #bakugo x reader #dirt bag izuku

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vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

Can I join your anti-Hermione club? Is there an application form? (In all seriousness, I'm so glad there's someone on Tumblr who is anti-Hermione for good reasons. It drives me absolutely insane how much the fandom worships her. I respect her intelligence, but there are so many absurdly unethical things she does. The hexing of Marietta Edgecombe - I researched it, it's both against contract law and would almost certainly be considered assault - was crazy, and even crazier was that it's excused.)

Hahaha, no application form needed, just a lot of bitterness and a touch of rage.

Something that really annoys me is how people are trying to tell me I'm doing Hermione-bashing when I give her the what-for. Or try to say "but she was a teenager :(". Really, freaking really? So when Hermione scars people on the face she's being a teenager but when Ron is pissy for a night in fourth year he's a total asshole? No, nope, not gonna let that lie.

My issue is that Ron's mistakes are teenager-sized; making an ass of yourself during a soirée, dating someone you're not really interested in because you're flattered by the attention, getting mad at your friend over silly stuff, saying stupid things without thinking... teenage mistakes. Those are teenage mistakes. (Something could be said of his leaving on the Horcrux Hunt but. Bitches. Voldemort himself (a part of him at least) was there singling him out for torture. Not to mention the heavy blood loss, the fact that his family's in danger, etcetera... But of course nobody is willing to accept those circumstances, nooo, it's only Ron who's the sole responsible for leaving absolutely, right, "Hermione is a teenager :(" and "Harry has PTSD :(((" but Ron isn't allowed to have problems of course. Fucking hypocrites.)

Meanwhile Hermione wakes up everyday and chooses violence and not for good reasons. I mean when your first reflex to distract someone is to set them on fire surely that indicates some issues? (Later on she forgets that she can use magic to light a fire... against a plant. I mean. How. How do you come to the conclusion that you should light a person on fire to "distract" them but cannot apply that reasoning to a goddamn killer plant.) The thing is people just... because we're constantly told that Hermione is intelligent/has good grades/works hard, people are quick to assume that she's obviously the most mature one in the room. But being a hard worker isn't necessarily a "proof" of maturity. It's just that people's expectations are that "a studious kid" is a mature kid, but really what they mean by "mature" is "doesn't annoy me to hell and back by playing noisily".

There’s this huge manipulation that plays on people’s expectations: being coded as “the studious girl” people are told through stereotypes that Hermione is smart, mature and logical… and the text is quick to try to reinforce the idea by having her spout definitions (=”smart”, for a degree of it; it’s mostly good memory), scold others for being rowdy (=mature, except that she’s not above it all either and a big part of maturity also involves REALIZING YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES which, Hermione’s don’t, so oops) and have her solve some puzzles or explain things (=logical… but sometimes her reasoning is based on emotion and she just tries to find evidence to justify why she thinks it’s right, rather than go from one thing to another).

When people try to brush off the fucked-up things Hermione did with "well she was a teenager" or "it was the war effort"... no. Fuck no. She didn't have to wipe her parents' minds and memories, there was the Order, the Dursleys were treated better than Hermione's parents for God's sake. But the only thing that matters about Hermione's parents is that they can be conveniently sacrificed to let us know how brave their daughter is right, it's not like she's in anything called the House of the Brave or something, it's not like she's constantly being thrown in mortal danger and is scared but keeps pushing forward, no we absolutely HAD to have a plot point that involves Hermione destroying two people's identities so we know how brave she is (how was any of it brave? Bravery is risking yourself, not the life of two innocents who barely know what's going on and are in no position to fight back).

And with the Romione fandom trying to push back to "nooo but she was a teenager m'kay she had her reasons for everything"... You want to get back to the Dark Ages where Hermione can do anything to Ron and it's his fault for not being perfect enough for her? Because that's how you go back to the Dark Ages.

In concept I love Romione. In the books I love it till about Book 3 (and even then that's pushing it because Hermione's utter disregard for Ron's pet sits very unwell with me, BUT okay fine she's still a child, it's her first pet, she has no idea how to own a pet and she's not used to being mindful of others' feelings. Then she gets validated by the plot because Scabbers was Pettigrew and somehow that means Hermione wasn't horribly callous to Ron's feelings or anything... meanwhile had it been Ron buying Crookshanks and Scabbers being Hermione's pet everyone would have been like "but who cares that Ron was right in the end, do you see how horribly he hurt poor Hermione's feelings!!!"...

It's just. No more excuses. Hermione is fucked-up. As a person, not just because of the war. She had a vicious, vindictive streak that only got enabled through the books because she never was called out on it. And I mean, I'm all for standing up for yourself, or for slapping Draco Malfoy's bitchy ass ferret face. But fuck. When you're doing the magic equivalent of an acid attack on someone's face, when you're physically abusing someone you're supposed to love AND THREATEN TO DO IT AGAIN AS IF IT WAS SOMETHING CUTE OR QUIRKY, when you're brainwashing your own parents into compliance because you can't be bothered to lie to them or make the Order get them... You know how many fics I've seen that take the "I did actually Confund my examiner" exchange from the Epilogue and run away with it to make it so Ron gets in a horrible car accident or invent entire collapses of the Statute of Secrecy as a result of an investigation connected to this "ha ha look it's funny Ron cheated on his exam" moment? Why don't I ever see a fic talking about how Hermione erasing her parents from existence leads to the destruction of Wizarding society through the legal bullshit that follows? Because Hermione dear, did you think to alter "Wendell" and "Monica"'s birth certificates? Their marriage contract? Their VISAs? Their bank accounts? Otherwise you've just turned your parents into homeless vagrants hopelessly lost in Australia who can't ever find a home anywhere because they simply don't exist in the eyes of any government. But hey nobody ever thinks of that because it's so much easier to nitpick everything Ron does. The only thing folks notice about Hermione nowaday is Emma Watson's boobies.

... I'm sorry, I just... Ugh. People.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger #hermione granger critical #hermione critical #ron weasley #ron weasley defence squad #ron weasley defense squad #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #hp meta

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

I came back for you

Word count: 2123

Genre: Angst but happy end

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: Abusive prison/government (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: Hey, so this is kind of a weird request, but could you do a Nattie x Powered! Reader during Civil War, where Nat, of course, is on Tony's team, and the Reader is trying to keep the peace between the two teams. Maybe the government takes (Y/n) and puts her in a shock collar like Wanda's because they think she was on Steve's team? Sorry this is so weird . . .

Summary: You are neutral in the fight, or so you think before you are told you can't be and are taken away with the rest of Cap's team.

A/n: Thanks @thewidowsghost for requesting this! Honestly I didn't plan on writing anything or posting anything today but I saw that I had a little bit of this done and to be honest my day has sucked so I needed a distraction and this worked perfectly. Also I could someone tell me how the formatting looks? I'm trying the new beta editor and I think I'm doing things right but idk. Anyways I hope you all enjoy!

As you take in the scene that surrounds you you can’t believe that you once considered everybody to be a big weird family. Certainly none of them are acting like it now. It breaks your heart to see them on opposite sides, throwing themselves at each other because apparently their personal beliefs are more important than their friends.

Neither of them are right or wrong in your opinion. There’s too many factors and both options suck, it’s the government’s fault for placing the team in this situation. However you are not happy with the way anyone is handling it, especially Steve, Tony and Natasha. Both Tony and Steve are acting based on what they think is right without considering the other sides to the story, although you can’t say that’s surprising coming from them. You do know that they genuinely do care for others but they can be very hard headed and neither of them like to be wrong.

It’s Natasha who you’re most disappointed in though, you thought that she would be a better negotiation, helping ease the tension but she’s out there fighting like the rest of the idiots. You thought that she would agree with you and try to bring together the two sides.

You narrow your eyes and zoom in your vision to the far side of the airport where you see Spiderman. You have no idea who he is but you can tell just by looking at him that he’s only a kid and it was irresponsible of everyone to let him be here and to fight him. You use your superspeed to get to him quickly and take him out of the way of flying cars and leave him by the side where it should be relatively safe.

“Stay here.” you tell him.

“But-”

You glare. “Stay here.”

You rush off before you can make sure he listens because you can hear a grunt of pain from Rhodney. He’s lying on the ground with Tony standing over him and Sam a few meters back. The fight seems to be ending now, you see the plane leaving and the rest of the avengers start to gather but it doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. You don’t know exactly what happened but it looks like a freak accident, somehow nobody’s fault and yet everybody’s fault for getting into this situation in the first place.

The mood is weird, as if everybody is holding their breath and taking in what they’ve done. In the background you can hear trucks pulling up and footsteps follow soon after. The first man grabs Wanda and she blasts him back lightly so he falls down. Immediately a circle forms around her, everyone pointing their guns. Clint takes a step in, raising his arms and trying to calm the situation down but the guns shift to him and one agent steps forward and roughly grabs him, forcing his wrists into cuffs.

They go for Sam next and he looks pissed but lets them cuff him without comment. Scott looks completely confused and out of his depth. You don’t know him but it’s obvious that he is not trained for these types of situations and is in over his head.

It’s Wanda that makes your heart break the most though. She’s like a little sister to you so seeing the tears in her eyes and the terror on her face as the agents move in to cuff her makes you want to wrap your arms around her and promise it will all be okay. But you can’t, that would be a lie because everything is not okay and trying to hug her would only make things worse.

The agents start to move away, leading Cap's team to their trucks to be taken away. One of them turns back and notices you, murmuring something to the agents beside them. Before you can even understand what is happening they are right back and grabbing at your arms roughly. Naturally you try to pull away but they are strong and once you realize what is happening you stop struggling.

“I didn’t pick a side,” you try to explain, “I was just trying to make sure everyone was okay.”

“You didn’t sign the accords and therefore have no right to be here.” one of the men tells you. You look towards Tony’s team for help but they all seem to be busy. Tony and Vision are trying to make sure Rhodney is okay and the kid is luckily back where you left him. T’challa is shaking hands with one of the agents and although it makes you sick because of the way they are treating some of the others you understand, he does have a country to run and his people must come first after all.

Natasha is the only one not doing anything and she meets your eyes. You silently beg her to do something, anything against what is happening. She stares you straight in the eye and shakes her head. You actually shiver at how cold her look is because you never thought that would be directed at you, you thought that the two of you were close.

“I’m not going to help you Y/n, you made your own choice and I made mine.” Is all she says before turning away. You watch her back as long as you can as you are led into the trucks, wondering how everything went wrong so quickly.

---

Nobody talks. You aren’t even sure if you’re allowed to. There is no way what they are doing is legal but who is going to argue with the government. A secret prison built just for enhanced individuals and imprisoning people without trial isn’t right. You were neutral before but the more you see of how the government operates the more you start to lean towards supporting Steve and the rest of his “team”.

You shift slightly because the shock collar is getting even more uncomfortable. Wanda is wearing one too, probably since the two of you are the only ones that have powers unrelated to technology and suits. She looks smaller than ever in her cell and you close your eyes because if you continue to look at her you know you’ll end up crying.

Nothing changes throughout the day until you hear the door creak open. Everyone glares when they see it’s Tony and he and Clint share a few words before Tony practically begs Sam for information. Sam’s reluctant but gives in, seeing that Tony is sincere and knowing that although he disagrees with Tony it’s not really his fault that you’re all here, it’s the government’s.

When Tony leaves things go silent again for a few hours. You haven’t been fed since you’ve gotten here, you realize, but you aren’t hungry anyways, your mind can’t stop picturing the fight, being arrested and most of all Natasha’s attitude towards you. It hurts even more than you would like to admit. You considered her your best friend but you also had feelings for her and you were dumb enough to think that just maybe she felt the same things about you. Obviously that is completely untrue and you wonder if even your friendship was a lie.

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here for?” Wanda asks finally and although her voice is quiet you wince at how it breaks the silence.

“I don’t know kid.” Clint responds. “Too long. My wife is going to kill me and my kids-”

He stops himself, getting a little choked up which surprises you. You’ve never seen him this emotional before.

“I already miss my daughter.” Scott adds on and there is a moment of understanding that passes between the two of them.

“I don’t have my own family but I’m going to miss my sister.” Sam says. “She probably won’t even find out what’s happening until it’s on the news, if the news even covers it.”

“I miss the team.” you add. “Before this fight, we weren’t perfect but I considered everyone family.”

“So did I.” Wanda says and you all take a moment to miss what used to be.

“I miss pizza.” Sam jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works and soon everyone is adding on ridiculous things they miss and things they want to do when you get out (you can’t even think about the fact that the “when” might actually be “if”).

Your eyes snap to the door when it opens and everyone shuts up immediately. You look warily at Natasha, unsure of why she’s here. Maybe the government sent her in to interrogate, god knows she is amazing at that and you honestly wouldn’t be able to not talk to her, as much as you’re mad at her right now.

She doesn’t speak, going straight towards Sam’s door and kneeling down, fiddling with the lock. After a few seconds it clicks and the door swings open.

“When did you switch sides?” He asks, raising his eyebrows, impressed.

“I don’t pick sides, I do what makes the most sense and right now breaking you out is the right thing to do. Besides I’m wanted now too, apparently the government doesn’t like it when you aid fugitives in escaping.” she responds smoothly, moving onto Wanda’s cell and repeating her actions until it opens.

“Do you know how to take the collar off?” she asks and Sam nods. He gets to work while Natasha moves on. Both Clint and Scott pass at her offer of freeing them. They both look like they’re itching to escape but you respect that they’re putting their families first.

You’re surprised by how emotional you get when she unlocks your cell. You thought she didn’t care about you so to have her here now is amazing and makes you feel bad you ever doubted that she would do the right thing.

“Y/n, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” she tells you as she undoes your shock collar carefully, doing her best to not hurt you.

“I-I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” you admit, a single tear dripping down your face.

She wipes it away with her thumb. “Oh sweetheart I care about you so much, more than you could ever know and I want you to always remember that, promise me.”

You nod, sniffing. “I promise Tasha.”

“Good because I came back for you and I will always come back for you.” she says, leaning in closer. You look down at her lips as she continues to lean in because she is so close and it seems like she’s going to kiss you.

“Glad to know Y/n was the only reason you came back.” Sam says, smirking. You love him but you also want to strangle him right now, that bastard could totally see what was happening and ruined the moment on purpose.

Natasha flips him the finger but otherwise ignores him. “Steve and Bucky are waiting in the jet outside, I was able to dismantle alarms and cameras but we only have a few minutes left so follow me and be quiet.”

She grabs your hand as she moves out of your cell and you walk with her, the others trailing behind slightly. The halls are clear and it’s only a few turns before she ushers everyone into a vent. It’s a tight squeeze but you make it through and you pop out to find sturdy wires attached to the side of the raft coming from a nearby jet. Wanda and Sam each take one and their wires retract, pulling them into the jet. You gulp nervously, heights are definitely not one of your favourite things.

“We have to go Y/n.” Natasha whispers just as alarms start to sound, the noises loud with flashing lights.

You take a deep breath and grab the remaining wire and once you’re secure Natasha grabs it too. Closing your eyes tightly so you don’t look down you feel a strange whooshing sensation before it disappears and your feet touch down on the jet floor.

“So what next?” Sam asks once you’ve all collected yourselves, directing his question at Steve.

“We lie low and try to help as best we can.” he responds, sighing heavily. “We’ll figure out the details as we go, what matters is that everybody is safe.”

Natasha holds your hand again and squeezes it tightly. “And that we are together.” she whispers into your ear so only you hear.

You squeeze her hand tightly back. Your relationship with her has gone through a rollercoaster of a day and is mostly undefined but she’s right, all that matters is that you’re together now and you wouldn’t rather be with anyone else.

---

Taglist: @fayhar @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @acertainredhead @madamevirgo @megaqueenmaeve @cherryblossomskye @aaron-despair @chickenhavewisdom @emril-osvigne @nyankitty987 @agathaharkness-simp @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @satxnsupreme @likefirenrain @wlwlovesreading @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @redswing @mochamoff @king-star @blackbat2020

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel fanfiction #x reader

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cheelduh · 4 years

Text

How to strike your way into someone’s heart (Highschool AU)

Part 2 to this. Can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing I mean what do you expect they’re all teenagers. Lots of brick slapping. Childe clowns Scaramouche. OH YES this isn’t edited at all lmfao have fun.

Synopsis: It’s your big date with Childe after you lost the bet miserably. You decide to pay the occult club a visit in hopes of finding something that can...ease your concerns. Childe on the other hand has Signora give him a friendly piece of advice, believe it or not.

Note: SRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH

For as long as you can remember, you've never believed in ghosts, demons, or souls that lose their way in the endless void, forced to roam the earth in repentance.

Believing in the unknown takes creativity, adventure, maybe even a little sense of fear. Scratch that—a shitton of fear, because humans love to weave in their insecurities and inability to explain something into something of a phenomenon.

Bad luck lies in this category. Bad luck is simply a way to justify the catastrophe that one cannot admit they have fabricated themselves. Everyone wants a reason as to why shit hits the fan, and it can be anything but their own fault.

Bad luck is nothing but a load of bull to you. That's totally why you're standing outside the calculus classroom during lunch break, which happens to be the official meet spot for the occult club.

You raise a fist to knock, but then falter, thinking over your options once again. Is this what it has come to? Putting your faith into the weird kids that once tried to summon Schrödinger's cat for the physics final.

Fischl kicks the door wide open, a smirk playing at her lips once she spots you. "One cannot refrain from the song of your cogitation. The feline for which thou dwell on—"

A squeak leaves your throat and you flinch back, cutting her off. "You can read my mind?"

"Fischl," An icy eyed boy shows up from behind her and points a thumb back. "Mona needs your help."

Fischl squints at you for a brief moment, and then spins onto her heel to go back into the room.

The blue haired lower class man, Chongyun you guess, narrows his eyes at you. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Finally you manage to speak, palms all sweaty. "Yeah uh, I need your help. You know, with occulty things." You use your hands to articulate your thoughts, but ultimately give up.

You're not sure if it's pity towards your pathetic explanation or simply annoyance, but Chongyun widens the opening. He silently gestures for you to follow.

Stumbling on your feet and putting on your big girl pants, you hurry inside of the room, hoping you aren't seen by Beidou. She wouldn't let you hear the end of this.

The temperature instantly drops, and you have to adjust your sight to navigate. There's heavy incense in the air as well as a a few lighted candles from the dollar store, you guess.

Sitting smack dab in the middle of all the demonic markings is Mona, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Chongyun has made his way next to her, crossing his arms with a sigh, and Fischl is busy cooing at her bird.

"Well well well..." Mona's amused, eyes almost twinkling as she gets up from the poor desk that had to suffer the wrath of her ass. "If it isn't Y/N."

Mona is a glorified dick wiper in your books. One time, she partnered up with you in chemistry last year and refused to do any work because apparently her "star sign" said she was incompatible with science. You haven't forgiven her since.

"I need your help." You barely manage to choke out the words, reigning yourself in by clenching your fists instead. It'll be unethical to claw her face, especially since you're the one who's come to her.

"Oh?" She smiles wickedly, revelling in every moment of this no doubt. "Why would the high and mighty Y/N need help from the 'Whoroscope whore'?"

Fischl nearly slips out a laugh, trying with her upmost ability to refrain from rolling all over the floor.

You blink away your tears of almost-laughter, casually sliding in twenty mora across the table dividing you two. If she's a whoroscope whore like you say she is, she'll definitely put it in her bra.

Mona raises a brow, but her eyes linger on the bill for a second too much. "What makes you think I'll do it for money?"

"That's simple," You say, rolling your eyes. "When you see mora, you cling to it like a baby clings to a tit. Now just take it and solve my issues."

She fumes a litany of curses but snatches the money up anyways.

"What do you want?"

You breathe in, then out. "I need a talisman."

Mona raises a brow, hand on her hip. "I'm sorry. Did I get that right?"

How dare she. You will your eye into not twitching, the beginnings of fire thrumming through your veins, scalding hot. How dare she make me repeat myself.

"You know, the thing to fend off evil spirits," Your statement hangs heavy in the air as the cogs in their brains click into place. "I need one that can remove the most evilest thing times ten to the power of twenty five on this planet."

Everyone immediately thinks of Hu Tao.

Chongyun is the first to speak from an area of expertise, seemingly shocked at your words. "Are you sure you want a talisman that powerful? How bad is the evil spirit you've come across?"

You glance out the window, through the semi-open blinds. The apprehension curls in your stomach once you spot Childe chasing Aether with safety scissors, and you've never been more sure of than anything in your life.

Gulping, you turn back to the exorcist. "I'm 110% sure."

He doesn't ask any more questions and goes to fetch the talisman.

Mona clears her throat. "So I hear you have a date with Childe today. Quite the character you've taken to."

"Oh please," You hiss through your teeth, your blood pressure going up tenfold, "you're the one that told him our star signs were intertwined and that we're fated lovers."

She shrugs innocently, stance casual unlike your own that is ready to lunge an attack.

"Here you are," Chongyun hands you a talisman, a colourful mix of some charms, some kind of liquid in a bottle, and about a shitton of other things. "You'll need these if you're going to face the most demonic of all evils."

You think of Childe's stupidly handsome smirk, the playful life of his eyes, and how gentle and considerate he is with you. You think about how cruel he is to others, but how loving he can be to you.

"Oh, I will be."

—

Childe is getting his ass handed to him by Scaramouche on the switch. It's just that he can't seem to focus, not with the forthcoming date all over his mind.

He hasn't experienced these kind of jitters in a long time. Has to endure that foolish smile that's about to plaster all over his face.

Scaramouche may be a son of a bitch with an agenda, but he doesn't appreciate his acquaintances safeguarding their personal crap when it starts to leak onto him. Especially when it comes to video games.

"Okay," The short boy sighs, stretching over the staff room sofa to drop his controller on the cushions. "Let's hear it." He can't even properly enjoy his victories when Childe isn't giving it his all.

"Hear what?" Childe lays his head back, relaxing from all the strain of endless gaming during the lunch hour. He seems too relaxed for someone who's broken into the teacher's lounge.

"Why you're so distracted." Scaramouche points out. "Not that I care—hey! I'm serious here!"

Childe's cracking up for absolutely no reason, rudely cutting him off. "I'm sorry—sorry it's just so hard to take you seriously when you're wearing that stupid fucking hat."

"Don't question the drip." The older moves his head to glare at him, but the thin stripe of silk on his hat swooshes with him, and it's enough to have Childe clutching his stomach in pain as he barks out in laughter.

"Grow the fuck up." Scaramouche says, no doubt exasperated from the constant shit he gets.

"Ok—ok I'm sorry."

There's a knock on the door before Scaramouche gets the chance to intimidate him again.

"Fuck shit fuck who is that? Wasn't there a staff meeting?" Childe whisper yells, panic clear in the ocean of his eyes.

Scaramouche shrugs and downs a can of soda with no care in the world.

Childe would be nonchalant too. If it were a normal day, he wouldn't give two shits about getting caught.

However, he's looking forward to that date he has with you today. Detention is going foil all his lecherous plans.

"It's me." The feminine sound of a threat calls out from the other side. "Open the door." The clicks and clacks of her toes tapping the floor indicating her impatience.

The two sigh in relief, Childe getting up to open the door. It's way too early in the afternoon to deal with this crap.

"Surprised to see me?" Signora greets sweetly, and if not for the murderous glint in her eyes, he would smile back.

"Yeah, I didn't say Bloody Mary three times." The ginger replies, keeping a steady eye on the upperclassman in case she pulls a fast one.

The blonde shoves him aside in offence, and prances in like she owns the goddamn place. Scaramouche greets her with the bird.

"There's this rumour going around—I'm sure you've heard..."

"Oh?" Childe pockets his keys, ready for an attack, not even remotely interested in the topic.

"Something about how Y/N gave Mona a visit today" Signora muses, elegantly taking a seat on the arm of the couch, "with your date and all, I just thought you should know."

"Hah!" Scaramouche bursts out in laughter, tears in the corner of his eyes. "I can't believe she went to get a horoscope reading on how shitty your date's gonna be."

"Get castrated." Childe growls, flipping him off on both hands.

"Now now boys," Signora's lips curl, and she clasps both manicured hands together, prepared to break the fight if it ever reaches its peak. "Settle down. You two are comrades."

"As if I'm comrades with this SIMP!" Scaramouche has to wheeze out the words.

The youngest clenches his fists, unclenches, and then lets a smirk grow. "Oh? I'm the simp? What about that time Mona pantsed you in-front of all the freshmen and you fell in love with her."

Scaramouche glares at him, a glare strong enough to have anyone shaking in their shoes. "I'm attracted at her sheer audacity of trying to fuck I, Scaramouche, the 8th harbinger, over. It takes balls."

"Mad respect." Signora leans forward to place her phone on the coffee table, then approaches Childe. "Moving on, the reason I've decided to bestow my precious intel on you is because I have a favour to ask of you."

"What?" He says blankly, confused that she has a request for him out of all people.

"I need you to let me get you ready for this date of yours." She gives him a gaze that is enough to wither away any arguments.

Childe shares a look with Scaramouche as if to say "am I fucking deaf because I sure as shit didn't just hear that."

"You sure as hell did, boys." Signora intercepts the connection of their two brainwaves with a dreaded sigh. "I hate Y/N. This is the only way I can get back at her."

"Hey!" Childe exclaims loudly, waving his hands in the air incessantly. "What makes you think I'll let you shit on my future girlfriend."

"I'll be doing nothing of the sorts." She points out, giving him a sly smile. "I just know she's terrified of what's coming. The better the date is, the more she's gonna hate herself. What more do I need but to sprinkle some inner conflict within her airtight resolve?"

As favorable as the proposal is, Childe contemplates for a second. Signora...helping him? This could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right.

His inner turmoil takes him into the future, where you two are happily married with eight and a half kids. If you ever managed to find out Signora was the culprit that was finally able to set you two up, you'd never forgive him.

"Nah I'll take a hard pass." He doesn't want to think about divorce and custody battles this early on. He'd rather face the brunt of Signora's wrath.

Scaramouche chooses right then to make a tactical withdrawal out through the window since he doesn't want to be a witness to a murder he hasn't caused.

Surprisingly— "Fine then." Signora shrugs, unbothered when summoning out a minty juul from no where. She's disappointed nonetheless.

Childe tilts his head, perplexed, but decides against mulling over it for too long. Instead, he strides off to the door, wanting to get the last two periods over with so he can run home and freshen up for this date.

"Oh and Childe?" Signora calls out to him, but he barely acknowledges her, only pausing momentarily without looking back. "A piece of friendly advice. A diligent student like Y/N, there's no way she'd be into rash things like fighting. So try and control yourself, hmm?"

He flashes the senior a sheepish smile, the front row tickets to the illegal underground fight-club burning in the back pocket of his pants.

—

Childe conceals near the bushes by the gate, expertly hiding his shaking hands by pretending to look for something in his back. His goal isn't to seem desperate, even though he's raced out here at the speed of light after Havria's dismissal.

It's not like he's trying to eavesdrop or anything. He just wants a little insight on how you're feeling about this, in case the rumors of you visiting the occult club wasn't a farce.

From his peripheral, he spots you and a familiar figure that is Lisa, leisurely walking side by side as you approach the main side walk.

"Ready for your date, Y/N? You've been daydreaming all afternoon." Lisa winks, and dodges the shove you send her way with experience like no other.

"Yes, daydreaming about punching you in the face." Your left eye twitches in annoyance as you fix your hold on your skateboard.

"Well then, I'll be off—ah!"

The gorilla grip you have on her sleeve takes away all the time she has to get on the last bus she's about to miss.

Your utter strength is enough to make Childe's knees weak. How pathetic he thinks.

"Oh no you don't," You say in a sing-song voice, "you got me into this, so you're going to help."

"Help with what?" Lisa fakes a hard pout as she bats her lashes, trying to collect pity points.

"I—" You inhale, loosening your grip on her and averting your eyes nervously to see if anyone's watching. "Don't make me say it."

The older girl motions for you to continue, and you're sure you've suffered more for less at this point.

"I've never...been on a..." The sentence ends in a trailed murmur.

Childe doesn't think he's ever seen you so flustered. He's about to snap a picture for later, but decides against it. They'll be plenty of moments later on to see your cute expressions.

Lisa's grin is both seductive and terrifying, Childe notices. "You've never been on a date?"

"Shut up!" You hiss, dropping your board so you can cover her lips with your palm, eyes darting around your surroundings frantically. "Not so loud."

He has to bite at his fist to hide his amusement.

As if she has a sixth sense, Lisa's eyes somehow find Childe's through the abundance of leaves, and there's a glint in her eyes that nearly makes him shart his pants.

"Of course Y/N," She replies sweetly to you, who is currently unaware of the staring match going on. "I'll teach you everything you need to know...and more."

Childe doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Nor does he want to find out.

—

You ponder on what's taking him so long, more on edge than you usually are. Thankfully, Lisa basically pried your hair down from its usual up-do. Said something about how you can hide your lack of shits given as to not offend him.

Except you think you're giving more shits that you expected to. Why else would your heart be pounding so hard?

"What took you so long?" You sense him creeping up on you, ceasing his chance to pounce.

Childe groans playfully and slaps a hand over his face as he comes into view. "How'd you know?"

"You have a douche-styled gait." You reply as you remove your gaze off your phone to approach him.

He's prepared to shoot a witty reply, but it dies halfway through his throat when he procures a good look at you. Your hair frames your face elegantly, eyes shining despite the tiredness that's so clear, all complete with a cooling spring dress that hugs you just right.

Mouth going dry, he forgets how to speak the common tongue, unable to tear his gaze off your form.

You shift in place awkwardly. "Uh are you okay? Looking a little...blank."

"Sorry—sorry just thinking." Childe stumbles over his words like the complete idiot and a half he is, berating himself countlessly on the inside. He regains his confidence once he spots the light dust on your cheeks. "You ready for the best date ever?"

"The best date huh?" It's the first time you smile today, and he swears his heart leaps in his rib cage. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "I'm ready. I better not be disappointed."

"I wouldn't dare disappoint, girlie." He feigns mock offence as dramatically as possible. "I'll show you how to have some real fun. Cool keychain by the way, for good luck?"

It's one of the charms Chongyun urged you to carry with you at all times to keep all forms of evil away.

"Yeah...something like that."

The two of you ease into the walk in a relatively comfortable fashion, contributing with lively chatter and a few jabs here and there. It's not awkward at all, not like you thought it would be. Your nerves loosen up, mind diverting from the roots of the stress of high school.

"—And you won't believe what Kaeya did the other day. I'm telling you there's something wrong with him because that SoundCloud rapper wannabe Venti goaded him into birdboxing through the hallways at lunch."

"And the son of a bitch did it?"

"The son of a bitch did it." Childe confirmed, gasping through his laughs as the two of you converse in psychobabble. "And guess who he bumped into?"

You're choking in laughter, tears in your eyes as you hunch over and shake. "He didn't. Childe—no he didn't."

"Straightttt into Diluc. And he had the balls to feel him up because he thought he bumped into a hot bab—"

Childe crashes into a sturdy chest and stumbles backwards towards you, but manages to catch his balance midway. Both of you freeze when faced with a buff guy from another school, bandages on his fist and a crooked smirk on his face.

Fuck. You think. Classic high school cliché.

Realizing he can't risk the remainder of this date when it hasn't even begun, Childe raises a hand in apology, aiming to be the bigger person instead of socking the kid in the face.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking." He offers to the guy, but you can tell he isn't buying any of it. There are about four more kids who group, a setup that isn't going to end in your favour.

"Hey punk. You don't remember me?" The upperclassmen barks out, glaring holes into your date.

You deadpan towards Childe, but he's too is racking his brain to remember. Ends up shrugging with no recollection.

"I have a list of names but they're in my other pants." Shit, what an a-grade reply. Now you know you're done for. "Listen dude, I'm kind of on a date and the vibe is going great. Don't ruin it."

"It's a good thing she's here to watch then!" The guy yells, stomping so that he's right in-front of Childe, ready to pounce. "You humiliated me in front of my gang last week. I'm here to rip you a new one."

Childe blinks, tries to remember, and when he doesn't, he grabs a wad full of cash from the his Fanny pack and throws it at the guy's feet.

Everyone's eyes bulge out of their sockets, including yours at the amount of money placed there casually on the crack of the dirty sidewalk.

"Hopefully this is enough for the damages." Childe offers, aiming to not further escalate the situation albeit how pissed he is right now. If you weren't here...well that would be another, much more violent story.

With a soft tug, Childe brings you close and begins to pass the guy, until he's abruptly stopped by a hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"I don't think so!" The guys barks, and his lackeys move to surround you two. "You gotta pay taxes too buddy." Oh he's getting way too comfortable now.

A feral smile grows on Childe's face as he looks over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Yeah shithead." The guy seethes, puffing out his chest to size him up.

Childe itches for a fight. He can no longer keep in the urge and is just about ready to raise a heavy fist, but is beaten by the sound of a loud thwack, and then a painful groan following.

There you are, standing in front of the trembling asshole, spinning your crossbody bag in circles like it's a nunchuck in all it's glory. There's a deadly glint in your eyes, pure, unadulterated vexation in your features.

If Childe could fall for you any harder, it's probably happening now. In that exact moment, his heart beats in his ears uncontrollably, and there's nothing but raw adoration that piles up all at once.

You're an angel of destruction, a force not to be reckoned with, and shit, you're the eye of the fucking storm.

Fire courses through your veins as you pulverize the guy with your bag, swinging with such expertise it has Childe in awe. "He may be an absolute idiot for not remembering—"

"Hey girlie you're killing me here!" Your date snaps out of his astonishment temporarily.

"—but you don't get to call him a shithead, you asshole!" You snarl angrily, gripping the handle of your bag tightly, decking everyone that lunges at you, letting out strings of curses with every hit. Every hit sends a flock of them either stumbling back in pain, or knocked out completely.

Childe doesn't even get a chance to lift a finger by the time you're done violating them with your heavy ass pink bag. Stands there like an absolute loser.

"Apologize." You pant, prepared to send another flurry of attacks at the leader, who is crawling away with a battered face. "Apologize or I'll—I'll fucking Russian neck tie your ass."

"S-sorry!" The guy whimpers out and tries not to piss his pants at the threat.

Childe is still in too much shock at the whole ordeal to reply, short circuiting.

Another thirty seconds pass until he registers the smaller hand waving in front of his face. He catches your cold hand through his haze, brings it closer.

Running a free hand through his locks, he doesn't hide his astonishment. "You're fucking gorgeous, girlie." He whistles lowly, eyeing you with a new kind of regard.

"I-I uh." Your face is all shades of red by now, the adrenaline from kicking ass wearing down. "Let's go."

"How is that bag so heavy?" One of the fallen gasps out in pain, clutching his ribs as he trembles on the floor. "Like a buh-brick."

A part of your zipper in open, and Childe briefly peeks out of morbid curiosity. His jaw slackens. "Is that a...no, it can't be."

"It's a brick." You murmur guiltily, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Just in case." Fingers tentatively play with the straps.

Childe is head over heels by now, all smitten as a foreign warmth bubbles up in his throat, and he's just about sure he'll puke his heart out.

His next words are picked out carefully. "There's an underground fight club going on—"

You lock and aim for his right kidney.

Worth a try, Childe thinks.

"SIKE. Joking—joking. Just a joke." He insists, gloved hands raised by his ears in defence.

Clicking your tongue, you scowl and rush past him.

It hasn't even been an hour and it's been the most exciting date Childe's ever experienced. When he sees your lips twitch, he knows it's the same for you as well.

"Are we going or not?" You mumble, avoiding eye contact, a tinge of red still decorating your cheeks.

Childe crumbles into his hands at your deadly duality. One that comes for his enemies and one that comes straight for his heart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin oneshot #tartagila #mona genshin impact #Chonghyun #kaeya alberich #master diluc #venti genshin impact #fischl #lisa genshin impact #jean gunnhildr #fanfic

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qyllenhaal · 4 years

Text

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan fic

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