#anyway. have i mentioned i love women. like. i NEED to stress this

[hxlcyon]

aki november is over it's time for me to go batshit insane over literally every woman in path to nowhere

[pressureplus]

sebby x transmasc reader headcanons? i'm feeling self indulgent today >:)

Whoo, Yeah! I'm finally getting to answer this one! I personally have little to no gender at any point in time, and my lovely Co-Star has all of the gender and fluctuates fairly regularly between the shiny genders they've collected. So this is written from the shared trans braincell, gotta support the homies ✨

(Hope you have a wonderful day!)

Sebastian Solace x Transmasc Reader

[Warnings: Transphobia and misgendering (neither one from Sebby) and mentions of Dysphoria]

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

• Honestly, this fish bastard couldn't care less

• Your gender, job, and species are COMPLETELY irrelevant to him, the ONLY thing he really cares about is whether or not you are going to buy his stuff

• His gender? Shopkeeper. Now give him your data-

• If it's not addressed, you are literally just another man that Urbanshade sent on a suicide mission, he really doesn't care what is or is not in your boxers

• Can't stress enough that he's ONLY supportive when you or someone else brings it up, Sebby never pushes the topic. If you didn't know you told him or that he found out, you'd honestly think he didn't know

• Now, are there ways this becomes relevant to him? No, absolutely not, you are just another guy that's going to buy an expensive flashlight and then die several terrible deaths.

• It's not until one of the other expendables starts to misgender you that he even seems to notice

• "She? I don't particularly see any women in my shop at the moment- If you're sick I'm going to have to ask you to leave so we don't catch whatever nasty thing you have."

• "I think you meant 'Him', as in 'I am going to hand Him my gun and look away when He makes you a stain on my tile'. Do you understand me, expendable?"

• "It's funny hearing someone only packing 3 inches try to decide what is and isn't a man. I think we all know his is bigger than yours is, so if you could shut up about it that would be great."

• Sometimes he's more sassy, sometimes more outwardly aggressive, and occasionally he tells someone off in a way that's a bit more on the side of entertaining, but he does always make a point to stick up for you

• If you need your hair cut, he'll do it. He cuts his own hair and has for the last decade, so he's actually pretty good at it! Better at messy styles, but he'll try a clean one if you really want him to

• "If you die because your hair is in your eyes, I won't get your data. You must understand this is to my own benefit, Y/N."

• Sebastian is... Starting to call you by your name. You're not sure when you stopped being an expendable like everyone else and started being the name you actually chose for yourself, but you've surely become different to him

• Sebastian was born a man, and handles issues regarding your situation completely casually unless it 100% HAS to be verbally brought up, so you are left completely confused by what you did to get closer to him like this

• Was it somewhere between him validating you or defending you? Was it when he sat with you for the first or third time while you were wrestling your disphoria? Was it trust, or maybe pity... It couldn't be pity, right?

• One day you'll find out he's sees himself in you

• He says it like a joke when he starts to talk about how they treat you differently when they don't understand you. Researchers treated him the same way a handful of the other people down here treat you.

• He knows it's not quite the same, but it feels the same for him sometimes. When they call him 'it' instead of he... Sometimes he calls himself an 'it' or a 'thing', too even though he knows he hates that. Do you feel that way when they call you a she? He'll just go ahead and start banning those people for you both, he doesn't like them anyway.

• He isn't comfortable in his own body anymore either. He didn't choose what he is now the same way you didn't choose what you were born as

• Sometimes, his body doesn't fit right, either. He hates that he understands that feeling, but he does...

• He's starting to get comfortable with that familiarity, and with maybe not feeling so alone

• Is it wrong of him to enjoy having found someone he can relate to? If even just a little?

• Sebastian knows it's probably awful of him, but he's making a point to be good to you for it

• It makes himself feel better for a while when you can connect like that so naturally...

• It makes him feel human again.

[wintersoldiersoul]

Slowly

A/N: I think this might be the beginning of a little series.. let me know if you guys would want more of this! Also, this story mentions a past sexual assault of the reader (not in detail) but I just want you guys to know that if you ever need a safe space, my DMs are always open. It's something I've experienced and the experiences that the reader has had are very similar to my own. Please reach out if you ever need anything <3

Warnings: mention of a past sexual assalult, angst, fluff

“Y/N is going on a daaateee!” Wanda sang, running into the living room, you and Natasha following behind. 

Her statement turned the attention of Steve, Sam, and Bucky who were sitting on the couch. “A date, huh?” Steve asked. “With who?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Just a guy I met at the bar,” you shrugged. When your random bar makeout from last week had invited you to dinner, you didn’t wanna say yes. But with a little bit of peer pressure from the two women standing with you, you had reluctantly agreed.

Your eyes were on Bucky, whose eyes were on his phone. Why would you expect him to care that you were going on a date? Your feelings for him clearly weren’t reciprocated and you needed to move on. It was never going to happen.

The three of you moved to the living room to sit with the guys as you began to be bombarded with questions and comments. You swore that sometimes the adult superheros acted like middle schoolers, cheering like children when someone had any sort of development in their love life.

“So are you finally gonna have sex with someone?” Sam teased. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but it had been a while. A fact that the team loved to tease you about whenever you were stressed.

“No,” you said, simply not in the mood to be interrogated about your love life. “I don’t even know if I like him. We just kissed in a bar.”

“You’re gonna fall in love, and get married and have so many kids together,” Sam continued, his tone full of mockery. 

You weren’t necessarily embarrassed about your sex life. You didn’t care that it had been a while since you’d been with someone. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had the opportunity. It was just hard for you to trust. Ever since you had been assaulted, you didn’t wanna have sex with a stranger. You never told the team about the assault, not wanting to face the sympathetic looks. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it anyways. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” you said monotonously.

“Y/N, you’re gonna bang him and then be so happy and uplifted. Maybe you’ll actually get some sleep at night,” Steve joined in.

“Guys, seriously, stop.” You tried to prevent yourself from getting annoyed to the point of anger, but they were pushing your buttons. Even if they didn’t know the full reason you didn’t wanna talk about it, you were telling them to stop and that should have been enough. It was clear you didn’t wanna talk about this and that you didn’t even wanna go on the date at all but they just couldn’t help themselves from joking like a bunch of teenagers.

“We’re just so happy for you and all of the sex you’re gonna be having!” Sam said.

That’s when Bucky turned his head. “Guys, she said she doesn’t wanna talk about it, okay?”

Your heart fluttered when he defended you. You had tried your best to control your feelings for Bucky but the organ in your chest betrayed you. Every day you fell a little bit more in love with him. You just couldn’t help yourself. What had started as a harmless crush had turned into a gut-wrenching unrequited love story that tore you apart every time you saw or spoke to him.

“Let us celebrate!” Sam said. “Y/N’s gonna get fucked!”

You stood up quickly and walked away, anger reverberating in every step you took back to your room. You didn’t even wanna go on this stupid date and you sure as hell didn’t wanna have sex with a stranger. You wished you could do it. You wished you could have your mind and confidence back, the way you did before the assault. But it had ruined your trust. The one time you tried to have sex with a stranger ended in a panic attack and you getting out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

“Assholes,” Bucky muttered, standing up to follow you and make sure you were okay. He reached your door a second after you, stopping the door as you tried to close it. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

He followed you and sat next to you on the bed when you did the same. “Just ignore them. They think they’re funny,” he laughed.

You gave him a closed-mouth smile. “I just wish they’d actually stop when I tell them to, you know? I know they don’t mean to hurt me and it’s not like they know…” you trailed off before you said too much.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing, nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

But Bucky could read you like a book. Despite your feelings that he’d never like you back, he did. In fact, he loved you as much as you loved him, which led him to usually being quiet and reserved in your presence. He always had his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, silently wishing he could just work up the courage to ask you out. “Something’s bothering you, I can tell,” he said.

“And how would you know?” You said, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I know you. Better than you think I do.” 

His words rendered you speechless as you stared into his eyes. God, what was it about this man that just made you want to open up? “I…” you hesitated. You had been holding this secret for so long, you didn’t know how it would feel to share it. “I was sexually assaulted last year. I’ve tried to have sex since but it ended badly,” you took a deep breath. You were not going to cry in front of him. “I think it messed me up more than I thought it did. I feel… broken, I guess? Like, it feels like everyone else in the world can have a one night stand no problem but for me, I just can’t. And it makes me feel bad about myself.”

Bucky stared at you as you spoke. “Y/N, you are not broken,” he said with conviction. “You went through something traumatic. It makes complete sense that it’s hard for you.” He stared so deep into your eyes.

“Thanks,” you said, honestly just wanting to move past the conversation. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t in the mood for jokes.”

He lifted his hand up, brushing your hair behind your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest. “It’s not fine, though. Have you told anyone else? You shouldn’t deal with that alone.”

You sighed. Maybe he was right, but still you couldn’t find the energy to have that conversation right now. “Why do you even care, Bucky?”

“Because I’m in love with you, goddamn it!” 

You were speechless. This had to be some kind of joke. He had figured out your little crush and just wanted to fuck with you. Make a fool out of you. “Don’t be mean, Bucky.”

“Mean?” He said. “Why do you think I never talk to you? You make me so nervous I never know what to say. I have to stop myself from blurting out how fucking beautiful you are. God, when I’m around you it’s like… I feel like myself again.” The look in his blue eyes told you that he was telling the truth.

“Bucky, I.. I love you too. I have for a while.”

His breathing sped up as his hand remained on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. His tongue made his way into your mouth, kissing you feverishly. You were both desperate for each other, desperate for the love and affection that had been missing from your lives. 

“W-wait,” he said, removing his lips from yours. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I mean, you just told me you were sexually assaulted. I don’t wanna rush you into anything. I think we should just take this slow.” 

You nearly cried but stopped yourself. How was this real? How was it possible that the man you had been secretly loving for so long actually felt the same? And how was it possible that he was so respectful? So caring?

“T-thank you. I really needed to hear that, Buck.”

He smiled. “I want you to trust me, fully. If we’re gonna do this… if you want to, that is, we’re gonna do this right. We’re gonna go to dinner and I’m gonna spoil you like you deserve. And we’re gonna take everything at your pace, okay?”

“I-I don’t wanna disappoint you, Bucky. It might take me a while to be…fully comfortable.”

He grabbed your face in both of his hands. “Listen to me. You could never disappoint me. Get that thought out of your head.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Now do me a favor,” he whispered. “Cancel that damn date.”

[farfromstrange]

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other. 

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio. 

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you. 

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar. 

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned. 

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you. 

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown. 

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context. 

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again. 

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth. 

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off. 

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior. 

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him. 

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable. 

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to. 

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says. 

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more. 

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last. 

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur. 

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing. 

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore. 

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention. 

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours. 

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.” 

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile. 

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?” 

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him. 

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone. 

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high. 

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

[sevensinswithin]

Okay so to everyone who was here for the original post, here’s basically how Alicent and Laenor get married in my lavender marriage au:

The entire thing starts because Alicent catches Laenor and Joffrey fucking in a secluded part of the castle a few weeks before Aemma dies. The boys only realize they’ve been caught because Alicent runs away from them like her ass is on fire. That girl had no idea gay male sex was an option in life and now needs to reevaluate everything in her life after catching them.

Laenor then spends the next few weeks trying to find a way to get her alone because guess what. Fucking in a secluded but also public area is not a good strategy if you want to keep your gay love affair a secret. So now Laenor is hoping to convince Alicent to stay quiet about what she saw because his dad seems to think he'll grow out of it (do not attack me, this literally happens in canon) and he doesn’t want anyone to know yet since it might impact who he’ll get married to eventually. Meanwhile Alicent is desperately trying to forget that she ever saw anything and doesn’t tell Otto about seeing Laenor and Joffrey because let's be real. This man said “childhood companions” like it was a slur in that one scene, so she knows that her father would do something with this information. Alicent does not want to be the reason Joffrey and Laenor are in trouble for their relationship. Nevermind that she’s suddenly having the realization that women liking women isn’t that far of a stretch after all.

Unfortunately, to everyone else in the world, it looks like Laenor is trying to court her and that Alicent is just trying to be very polite about his interest in her since she never wants to be alone in a room with him unless they’re around other people. Which is something that is totally normal and not weird at all. Why would you say otherwise?

Then Aemma dies and Otto sends her to see Viserys in his room and Alicent is now very stressed about something else in her life because she wants to do what her father says, but she also doesn’t want to betray Rhaenyra.

So during those six months after Aemma dies - which is apparently how much times passes between Aemma’s death and when Viserys decides to marry Alicent according to a HOTD article I read - Alicent, like in canon, is sent by her father to Viserys’ chambers and desperately hopes that her father’s ambitions won’t happen and that Viserys will simply see her as person that is supporting him in his grief.

(Life Hack: If you ever want to read an article and it says you have to make an account to read the rest of it, just go back to the google page you found it on, right click the link, and save the link as an HTML document. That lets you read the article without having to make an account. I found this out from someone on the internet and damn did it help when I wanted to access any account restricted article. Anyways, back to the plot.)

So to counteract that and make it so she’s less appealing to Viserys, Alicent always mentions Laenor and how fond of him she is during their talks. She also mentions how worried she is about Rhaenyra and her position as heir because there seems to be so many people that seem to be under the impression that they can replace her by having Viserys marry one of their daughters and convince him change his heir to one of the possible children he might have with those daughters.

Meanwhile, Laenor is absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Alicent is always around him and receptive to interacting with him, even though literally weeks before she avoided being around him like the plague. During this she also manages to wring out of him the fact that his parents (mainly Corlys, let's be real) are talking about potentially marrying Laena to Viserys and that he hates that idea as she’s way too young in his eyes for that. Eventually Alicent manages to find a way to be alone with Laenor and make him swear to secrecy about what she'll tell him because telling anyone might mean that his sister will actually have to marry Viserys. He does and she fills him in on what her father wants and what she’s attempting to do, and that she needs his cooperation to get him to at least appear like they’re courting.

So Alicent and Laenor put up the appearance that they’re at least attracted to each other to get people talking, which totally doesn’t ignite jealousy in Rhaenyra at the idea of Alicent being in love with her cousin. Cue Rhaenyra absolutely doing everything in her power to make Laenor appear like a loser to Alicent and the rest of the court. Alicent makes sure to get her to stop that shit real quick and tells Rhaenyra that she and Laenor are only pretending to be in love in order to avoid having to marry someone that would disrespect Laenor’s preference for men and disregard Alicent’s autonomy. Alicent also mentions that possibly marrying Laenor means that Alicent and Rhaenyra will be allowed to see each other very frequently as she will be Laenor’s wife and the Velaryons are often at court since they are related to the royal family. So now they have Rhaenyra on board.

Eventually the night before that one small council meeting where in canon Viserys announces that he’ll marry Alicent, Alicent “confesses” to Viserys that she’s in love with Laenor and that she wants to marry him, but that her father would never allow Alicent to marry Laenor because he and Lord Corlys dislike each other. She also lets it “slip” that Otto is very adamant that Viserys must have a male heir despite the fact that Rhaenyra has already been made heir, and that he sees Alicent as a potential bride for Viserys despite her unwillingness to marry her best friend’s father. She also sprinkles in the fact that Rhaenyra would be devastated at the idea of her father remarrying, especially if the bride in question were her best friend or even her little cousin (Yeah fuck you Corlys, you’re on thin ice for that and the grow out of it comment), and the fact that surely his wife would want him to defend his daughter’s claim to the Iron Throne from potential usurpers, which is something that would definitely happen if he had a son.

This causes Viserys to absolutely lose his shit, but Alicent calms him down and he sends her away from his chambers. However, not before Viserys hints that he would not dissolve a marriage between a highborn lady and lord if they eloped and consummated the marriage. So instead of heading straight to her rooms, Alicent instead books it to Laenor’s chambers. The two of them run off to a sept and convince a septon to marry them with a few commoners as their witnesses because they can’t take any nobles in fear of being stopped (and to also have the commoners spread the fact that Alicent and Laenor eloped). Then she and Laenor head off to Laenor’s chambers to consummate the marriage with the help of Joffrey, who they had stay in Laenor’s chambers so that no one would get him in trouble or notice that he was in the room with them during the consummation, and to have Alicent stay over so that people could catch them together in the morning and spread the news of her “ruined reputation”.

The next morning Laena bursts into Laenor’s chambers like she always does and “catches” them before running off to tell Rhaenys the way all little siblings do. So then Rhaenys and Corlys show up, as does Otto; he caught wind of the situation through a servant he paid off to spy on the Velaryons. Once there Otto starts shaming Alicent about her ruined reputation and Laenor retorts that she didn’t ruin anything as he married her before he bedded her. Otto then explodes at the pair when Laenor says that and Corlys rushes to defend his son against all the stuff Otto is saying and threatening him with.

Eventually their argument gets so loud that a servant rushes to get Viserys and a few guards since they’re afraid that the two lords will resort to violence. Trailing after them is Rhaenyra and the Small Council, as the meeting was supposed to start half an hour ago but certain people were missing and needed to be found. So now the entire Small Council, Rhaneyra, and Viserys are at the doorway of Laenor’s room while a furious Otto and Corlys trade insults. Meanwhile Rhaenys sees how afraid Alicent and Laenor are and rushes to the pair’s defense (because they need someone in their corner that isn’t shaming the other party), saying that perhaps the two wouldn’t have resorted to eloping if Otto and Corlys weren't always at odds. Seeing the King, Otto rushes to demand that he have the septon reverse the marriage, but Viserys reveals that he knows about Otto’s plan to make Alicent marry him and how he knows that she wished to marry Laenor instead. He then fires Otto from being Hand and sends him packing to Oldtown, approving of Laenor and Alicent’s marriage as a final insult to Otto. He also firmly informs the small council that he will not be getting remarried, that Rhaenyra will remain his heir, and that anyone who objects otherwise is speaking of treason.

So there you go, the outline for a story that I’m most likely going to write in non-linear bits. In this world Alicent is Lady of Driftmark, Laenor and Joffrey get to be happy, and Viserys prioritizes making sure that Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne is secure. Also somewhere down the line in this universe Rhaenyra and Alicent get their shit together and realize they’re in love with each other, and Rhaenyra gets to marry Harwin because Daemon never takes her to the brothel and so she gets to pick her husband and be the polyamorous bi queen we all love.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Propaganda:

For Orufrey: "They're tragic wlw who have devoted their lives to each other since they were kids. They live together, they cook together, they're raising four girls together and they're doing the best they can. Olruggio would do anything for Qifrey if Qifrey would just Let Him 😭 but Qifrey is dead-set on protecting Olruggio and keeping him safe and in the dark no matter what it costs... i cant 😭..."

"Man I don't know they just have the vibes. They have toxic yuri energy but they are two grown men. They've known each other since their apprentice days and have stuck together ever since. Qifrey's main magic type was something he took up because Olruggio proposed that he learned to control the water he feared. They live together away from most of society with Qifrey's four apprentices, living the sapphic cottagecore (ateliercore???) dream. Qifrey, due to the fact that his eyesight is very much failing, something which is very problematic when it comes to witches, who need their eyesight more than most, is getting very desperate to get all he lost to the Brimhats, the witches who took one of his eyes and his memories, and Olruggio ends up noticing this pursuit and is implied to have done this more than once. Qifrey does not want Olruggio to know about both his failing eyesight and his goals, so he ends up completely wiping Olruggio's memory of those things, and laments that Olruggio is a kind person, and one who would most likely forgive him again, but also one who would try to save him, even when he didn't want to be saved. He also apologized right up until the moment Olruggio's memories of his secret were gone. In general I think chapter 40 is the somewhat toxic guy yuri chapter ever. I'm very tired so I do not know how to explain any of this, I just thought "wow Orufrey reminds me of this one poll I saw on Tumblr" and then spent three days straight hunting for your blog before completely forgetting my reasoning for Orufrey being yuri right before I submitted this."

For Joongdok: "Well first of all Yoo Joonghyuk has a whole arc that is transfem coded as hell (has a power/technique that can technically only be used by women but somehow he can also use it, for a time he even turns into a woman to wield it and it's. Actually just let me get the quote "The ines of the face had changed but it was clearly Yoo Joonghyuk. No, it was even more than before.") that just kinda happens,, and doesn't get brought up again but anyway. Second of all just look at them. You see the vision. Also a bonus observation is that these two often get shipped in a poly ship with Han Sooyoung and whenever I see people make a "regular couple, yaoi couple, yuri couple, I see no difference love is love" meme with them the combination of which pair among these three is which of the categories is always different"

Note: This submission also mentions Han Sooyoung, but I decided to count this polyship submission as guy yuri as well.

"They love each other, they pretend they don't care for each other but all their actions prove they care too much, if you remove someone from the trio then the resulting duo is extremely dysfunctional, as evidenced by more than a million words of canon. Is it technically guy yuri? Well, Han Sooyoung is a woman, but in a way she's one of the guys. Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk are men, but the text heavily hints that Yoo Joonghyuk is a trans woman who's just too busy and stressed out to transition yet, and Kim Dokja has just never thought about his own gender a single day in his life. They made the world for each other, they went back in time countless times and waged countless wars for each other, they wrote and read and lived a story, their story, for each other and that's what saved them all. The way Han Sooyoung writes Yoo Joonghyuk's story to save Kim Dokja and loses herself in the process, the way Yoo Joonghyuk voluntarily lives the story to the point of losing himself too and even forgetting why he originally decided to do it, the way Kim Dokja read Han Sooyoung's story which was Yoo Joonghyuk's life and that's how he found himself, they all took so much from each other and gave so much of themselves to each other, this is all very yuri."

"they're so yuri you have no idea. they have every staple of a yuri ship. unwavering devotion. waiting dozens or thousands of years for each other. dooming themselves and the world for each other. so much yearning. i also see them genderbent a lot (including inn canon in the case of yjh) and they're right both of these people are women. i genuinely can't even see them strictly as men at this point they're just yjh and kdj and they are yuri do you understand."

"they're so yuri. the abscense of yuri is the presence of yuri etc etc. these two guys are all ABOUT abscenses. also one of them is a part time woman. the other guy is a guy but like in the same way a square is a rectangle. anyway they're so guyyuri to me. bonus points also because they have a mutual girlfriend and when she's present they're girlyaoi but that's not relevant to this specifically"

[mysticmellowlove]

This a big bitch. Btw not proofread so some parts may be grammatically incorrect.

Yan x fem reader who is just kinda at her limit. She is always so giving and soft with him, she loves him and loves treating him like the good boy he is. She never wants to hurt his feelings, but recently she has just kinda been pent up from everything else in life and slightly takes it out on him.. not that he would really mind anyway. She just kinda wants him to fuck the stress out of her sometimes yk? I imagine they are doing the tango or whatever and as she’s fondling him she just starts getting a little… prickly. “You say you will always protect me but I worry you won’t be able to if you can’t even hold yourself together around me.” He whimpers while looking at her feeling the intensity of her hand around his heavy leaking cock. She then continues: “I mean you don’t even have enough strength to fuck me right. I have to do all the work. You say you love to worship me but I’m the one always giving you the attention.” He now groans. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I should find another man, a man that can actually serve me- one that has the strength to protect me and worship me.” He is a dirty slut so he just whimpers and groans a little teary-eyed.

She realizes he’s not getting the fucking message and just thinks she joking (which she is but she wants to see how far she can push him ofc) so she proceeds to say: “Maybe I’ll even find a woman. (His eyes immediately switch to her) Women could please me.I mean she has all the same parts I do, she could actually hit my G spots unlike you.” That’s what hits him. She always told him she was straight so it was funny to her that the mention of a women would get him to actually seem shocked and slightly terrified.

Oh no not the mention of another man fucking her because he knows that would never happen, but a women? He doesn’t even think about the facts he can only think about a women pleasing his women. “ Mommy stop it your being mean.” “Maybe buy a strap on that will actually fill me up unlike your cock.” He is seeing red by now because he actually realizes what she just said. Is he not pleasing her? Is she getting bored? Is he being lazy?

(He worships her all day long I mean he is literally a slave for her- she says get her water with rose shaped ice cubes he will make it happen he just loves submitting to her and she loves it) He can’t take it anymore. He flips her over and looks at her. “I said don’t say that Mommy! You can’t fuck anyone else I’m the only one!” He takes her pants off. “I can please you I promise you don’t need some dirty whore some dirty filthy man!”

He takes her panties off and can only think of making her scream his name at this point. “ You’re mine! Don’t ever think about anyone else Mommy. Mine!” He is going as deep and as hard as he can. Looking at her to see if she’s responding. “My cock is big enough see! It fills you all the way up!” Her eyes are literally rolling to the back of her head because nothing turns her on more than her submissive little slave getting a little courage now and then.

Of course since he’s a little slut he can’t last too long so he begins whimpering and whining from pure pleasure. “Mommy mommy please mommy only me I’m good I swear don’t leave me mommy.”

After that he is basically a hiccuping whimpering mess. He is blissed out in pleasure and a little bit of doubt because was she telling the truth? She’s never been mean like that before. She can tell she got him questioning his existence rn so she pulls him into the crevice of her neck and he begins to sob. “Oh baby you know you’re the only person I could ever love- ever give myself too. I just wanted to see what you could do.” While kissing his head. He eventually stopped crying and nodded into as they fell asleep.

I just thought about this on a car ride the other day because I was feeling a bit bitchy and stressed. Anyway….

Xoxo, 🍪

note; cookie this is so fucking hot what the hell, honestly I'll take whatever you're having because this is literally perfect. this was a whole meal on its own.

sub who actually got scared for once, he doesn't even realise you're goading him he's just so scared that you'd actually think of leaving him.

even when he's fucking you as hard as he can he can't help but beg you to keep him. maybe if he tries harder then you won't think like this anymore. collar him, brand him, anything! just don't leave him for someone else.

he promises he can be better, he'll research how to make you feel good, he'll try and take control sometimes. just tell him what you want and he can do it for you!

even after you two are done for the night the thought festers in his head, he thinks about it all through the night and into the morning. he's basically at your feet the entire day after, just waiting for you to even hint at wanting something.

even weeks from now he'll go out and buy stuff for you. relaxing bath salts, food, sweet date ideas, candles and pillows and blankets and plushies! anything you want! you want books, you want puzzles? how about something that ties into your hobby?

he just wants to solidify his place in your life. see, he can be better. he can be the best! if only you'll continue to love him and only him.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Two: Safe From Heartbreak

The Pariahs That Saved The World [Masterlist]

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: nothing overtly horrible happening, mention of a funeral, mention of Victor Creel's appearance, canon-typical chapter here folks

[A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone supporting this story and I really hope I don't disappoint everyone. I am restricting myself to one chapter each week mostly because I really need the rest huns, it's been stressful lately x Anyways, enjoy this lengthy chapter of queer adorableness &lt;;3]

Safe From Heartbreak

“You brought her?!”

Steve’s concern was met with Robin’s innocent smile, raising her hands to sheepishly shrug. It wasn’t as if he could do anything about it; you were stood right there with that familiar scowl you reserved just for him.

Robin wasn’t sure how people were going to react when they found out she had gone and begged you to help them. There was a small but vital discussion about it before she decided to break all those rules. But she knew you had to be here.

“What did we say about making her do this? She didn’t wanna come.” Steve whispers at her, but the room was too small for privacy.

“Firstly, she is right here.” You say, folding your arms. “Secondly, Robin didn’t make me do anything. I’m here to help.”

“What made you change your mind?” Nancy speaks up from where she sat beside Lucas. You felt a pang of guilt when you remembered how you spoke to her last time. You had expressed your outright refusal to be a part of this and here you were, contradicting your own words.

“We all have people we need to protect, right?” You say quietly, avoiding her piercing eyes.

Steve runs a hand down his face as he sighs in defeat, relaxing his shoulders. You watch how his eyes dart to the corner and you look over, heart wrenching at the sight of Max staring back at you. She smiles, so you walk over with Robin’s gaze unknowingly fixed on your back.

“I’m gonna grab some drinks.” Nancy sighs, setting down the remnants of your old project folder. “Anyone want anything?”

“Some water?” Lucas asks and she nods, leaving the room in silence.

“Does she seem alright to you?” Steve asks, a soft frown on his face as he looks up the staircase.

“Why are you so worried, Steve?” Dustin speaks up with a mocking tone in his voice. Steve throws him a glare.

“Because we’re dealing with a mind wizard, asshole.” He grumbles and Robin laughs. He sends a pointed look, lowering his voice. “You’re one to joke.”

“Huh?” She questions and he gently pulls her aside, quickly checking that everyone else was occupied. You and Max were deep in whispered conversation while Lucas and Dustin weren’t so quiet, rambling on about Vecna and the possibilities for defeat.

“I know what’s been going on.” Steve reiterates and Robin scrunches her face.

“Well you wanna tell me, or is it a secret?” She jokes and he suppresses a smile. “Come on, what?”

“Y/n.” He says and she raises her eyebrow, automatically looking to where you sat beside Max, smiling at something the girl was saying.

“You like her.”

Her stomach drops, head whipping back to where Steve stood with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What?” Her eyes widen, looking flustered. She glances back over to you again, watching you laugh. “I- no. No, that’s not what’s happening.”

“Uh-huh.” He waggles his eyebrows, nudging her. “You’re not fooling me. You literally can’t take your eyes off her.”

“That’s not- I’m not.” She huffed, squeezing her eyes shut. “That’s not why I’m watching- wait, when did we move to making fun of my love life?”

“So it is a love life problem.” He points out and she shuts her mouth.

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Thank god.”

Robin attempts to speak, opening and closing her mouth until she huffs in frustrated defeat, storming away.

As Max turns away from you to continue working on her writing, you place a hand on her shoulder in silent goodbye and walk over to Steve, raising your eyebrow.

“I see you haven’t lost your effect on women.” You comment, head nodding to the staircase.

“Ha ha.” Steve rolls his eyes.

When he doesn’t continue speaking, you assume he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. It made sense. You had ended the idea of friendship between you both horribly, warping his feeling for you into a reason of hatred. It was a long time ago now, but you still regret what you did when you see that look on his face.

As you move away, his soft grip suddenly reaches out and pulls you back, surprising you.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He sounded genuine, throwing you off guard as you blink up at him. With a sigh, he’s running a hand through his hair. He always did that when he was nervous. “You didn’t… you didn’t speak to us before you left last year.”

“I’m…” You start, frowning. You didn’t speak to us before you left last year… Bullshit. “Yeah, I’m fine. Looking forward to getting rid of this Vecna guy, anyway.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking over to the corner. “Thanks for helping. I know Max really appreciates it. You guys were always close.”

“I’d do anything for her.” You admit, nodding furiously. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you look around. “Wasn’t Nancy getting water?”

“Yeah, I’m getting seriously thirsty right now.” Lucas mumbles, groaning when he notices all the information he has to cover on the table in front of him.

“She and Robin are probably chatting about girl stuff.” Dustin shrugs and you tilt your head.

“Girl stuff. Really?”

“I don’t know.” He raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go see where they are.”

Part of you was glad you could escape that basement for a moment. In no means did it feel crowded space-wise, but having these people stare at you felt suffocating. You could physically feel them trying to solve you like a jigsaw puzzle, wondering why you came back, why you were truly here. Why you left.

The distinct sound of Robin’s voice radiated from the kitchen, pulling you towards the room before you realised your feet were taking you closer. You poke your head around the corner to see her standing by the kitchen island in conversation with Karen, eyes light as she expresses gratitude for letting them be here.

“Anytime. I like having a full house.” Karen says, smiling and grabbing her purse. “I am just running out, let Nancy know I’ve left.”

“Will do.” Robin salutes, making the older woman laugh.

“Hey, hon.” Karen coos as she walks past you and Robin whips her head to where you’re leant against the door frame, a sad smile plastered across your face.

She feels terrible. Maybe Steve was right; she shouldn’t have dragged you into this. But it was too late now.

“So, Mrs Wheeler seems to like you.” You comment, the sadness breaking into genuine amusement and Robin shrugs.

“I get along with adults more than people my own age. Minus my own parents.” She states, and your face drops. You try to mask it, brushing imaginary dirt from your jeans so you could duck your head. But Robin caught it. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, gently closing your eyes for a moment before you walk over to her, leaning over the counter top. “It just feels weird to be back.”

“Sorry I dragged you here.” She says with a small voice and you look up at her, frowning.

“Robin, I meant what I said. You didn’t make me do anything.”

She dismisses it with the flick of her hand, looking unconvinced.

“Seriously.” You chuckle slightly, clasping your hands together for something to look at, leaning toward her as she sat down at a stool and rested her elbow on the surface. “I was gonna leave, like I originally planned. I’m only here for my grandad’s funeral. But… I can’t just leave when something dangerous is happening. I can’t leave Gran alone in Hawkins- I definitely can’t leave Max knowing that I did nothing to try and help.”

“I’m sorry about your grandad.” Robin smiles sympathetically, “Nancy didn’t mention that.”

“No one really knows.” You explain, resting your hand on your chin, matching her stance. “It wasn’t anything supernatural, you know? Just health… we knew it was going to happen for a while. My gran wants to keep it on the down low, have an intimate funeral. People will only bother her if she tells everyone.”

“She sounds like she knows what she’s doing.” She says and you laugh, nodding.

“She’s pretty great. Talks too much for her own good sometimes but I love that about her.”

Robin appears surprised, a hesitant spark in her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You smile, brows furrowed. “I think conversations like that are so much better. It’s… it’s expressive. There aren’t really any rules, we’re not restricting our thoughts because we are too afraid of being a burden. You can learn so much from someone when they talk like that. I really admire it.”

You look up to her flushed cheeks just in time to see her adjust her posture so the fabric of her sleeve hides the pink creeping up. You try and stop a smile, but it was useless. She looked really cute.

Robin was more than a little flustered now. She didn’t know why, but your words hit her like a tank carrying stone, 100mph, no survivors. She’s never had anyone tolerate her habit before let alone admire it. Steve might be right. Not that she’d ever say anything.

“Robin?” Your voice snaps her back into reality, eyes looking back into yours.

“Yeah?”

“I-”

The kitchen door swings open and you both whip your heads to the entrance, watching Nancy take a deep breath.

“Wait, weren’t you getting drinks?” You point between her and the tap, your original thoughts long forgotten now.

“I got distracted.” She states, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out two glasses. “I tried calling Jonathan but- it doesn’t matter. I can’t help thinking Victor Creel has to be connected. Like, really connected. None of those reports were giving any reason as to why Vecna didn’t kill him in the first place. We’re missing something. Something big.”

“Why don’t we just talk to Victor?” Robin suggests and Nancy lets out a breathy laugh, filling up a glass with water before shutting the tap off quickly, spinning around to face her.

“He’s- he’s locked up at Pennhurst, remember? Unless we’re family or some kind of authority, we’re not getting in to see him.”

Robin closes her mouth and thins her lips. “You’re right, that’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” You interject, glancing between them. “I know a way we can speak to him.”

“You got his number or something?” Robin quips and you fight a smile.

“I tried asking Pennhurst if I could speak with him last time. I rang them up and they told me I wouldn’t be allowed to see him unless I had permission from the director.” You explain, combing back through your memory. “Of course, they wouldn’t even let me get an appointment because I was just some stupid kid who was probably wasting their time trying to tell ghost stories.”

“What does this have to do with talking to Victor?” Robin redirects your thoughts and you clear your throat.

“When they went to hang up, I asked who the director would actually speak to. I was just trying to keep them talking so I could maybe convince them. They told me he would only take appointments with people serious about their future… and, yeah, they hung up.”

“Serious about their future?” Nancy prompts.

“Psych majors.” You say and her eyes light up. “They definitely won’t let us see Victor right away, but I guarantee we can get an appointment with the director if we were the type of students he’d want to see. Maybe-”

“Maybe we can persuade him to let us study him.” Nancy finishes and you snap your fingers, nodding. The drinks were since abandoned now, her fingers drumming against the kitchen island surface.

“Okay, and how are we meant to convince them we’re psych majors?” Robin asks, frowning. “I doubt they’re gonna let us walk in without some kind of proof, right?”

“We fake it.” Nancy nods enthusiastically. “It’s easy to create false identification these days, and I have the perfect place to do it.”

She’s already headed out into the hallway before Robin shrugs.

“Nancy committing a crime? I gotta see this.” She comments and you smile, following her out with a jolt of excitement in your chest.

You weren’t sure if that excitement was conclusive to the thrill of the investigation, or the eagerness you felt to spend time with the new friend you couldn’t stop thinking about.

“How long does it take you guys get some water?” Steve questions as you all come rushing down the stairs. Lucas frowns when he notices you were holding files instead of glasses.

“Okay, so…” Nancy breathes out with a smile, looking at you both either side of her. “We have a plan.”

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, and Y/n’s incredible investigative skills, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.” Robin says as everyone flicks through the files you whipped up, a smile creeping onto her lips for mentioning you. You weren’t ever given praise for your help in this group before.

“I’m now Ruth.” Nancy nods, looking at you.

“Elizabeth.” You raise your hand.

“And I’m Rose.” Robin announces.

“Ruth?” Steve raises a brow at Nancy and she shrugs.

“Nice GPA.” Dustin looks up at you with raised brows.

“I do my best.” You reply, earning a smile.

“So, we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re writing on paranoid schizophrenics-”

“To which they said no. Just like Y/n said they would.” Robin comments, glaring at Steve when he sends her a look.

“But we landed a three o’clock with the director.” You finish, crossing your arms. “We just need to, well, charm him into letting us speak to Victor.”

“And maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy says, and you nod slowly.

“Yeah, uh, about that.” Steve glances over his shoulder before leaning forward, gesturing to the scattered pieces of paper from your folder. “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh… we got some questions.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas agrees.

“So do we.” Nancy states, shaking her head. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second. Uh…” He shuffles through the three folders in his hands, shaking his head. “Where’s mine?”

The three of you share silent looks, Robin’s face twisting with indecision on what expression to make while Nancy struggles to answer.

“It doesn’t exist.” You finally say and he looks at you in shock. “What? We only made three. Unless you wanna be called Elizabeth…”

“What-”

“We should actually be getting ready.” Nancy cuts off his argument, standing up and nodding at you both.

Max turns in her seat and you send her a little salute, her own one sent back in return as you and Robin move to follow Nancy up the stairs. Steve cuts you off, and you see Nancy quicken her steps.

“That’s, uh… that’s not a thing again, is it?” You ask the girl beside you and she scoffs.

“A thing? No. Complete and utter nonsense? Absolutely.” She replies and you sigh, following their footsteps until it led you into Nancy’s bedroom.

“Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.” Steve whined while you and Robin roll your eyes, smirking at eachother.

“Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore.” Nancy says and he scoffs. “And Max is in real danger, she needs people around her.”

“I know, but why does it always have to be me?”

“Maybe because you still act like a child. You fit right in.” You offer with a smile and he squints his eyes.

“I liked it better when you weren’t here.”

“Oh, I’m touched.”

“Oh my god, you have a Tom Cruise poster.” Robin gawks as she enters the pink room, turning back with a suggestive grin. “You have a Tom Cruise poster.”

“That’s… old.” Nancy defends and you smile.

“Didn’t you used to kiss him every nigh-” You start but she cuts you off.

“I was twelve! That was… God, can you please not touch anything?” Nancy begs Robin, but the light brunette ignores her.

“I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude.” Steve continues his failed attempt at joining your mission.

You perch yourself on the bed, smirking at Robin whenever she turns in awe to show you girly trinkets.

“I don’t know, I could, like, turn on my… my charm.”

“Not the kind of charm we need.” Nancy comments and Steve blinks.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, last I checked that other charm didn’t work either.” Robin calls out and Steve purses his lips, resting his hands on his hips.

“Okay, double ouch.”

“No, I just…” Nancy sighs, “Look, Y/n and I did a little digging and it turns out this Dr. Hatch…”

As Nancy tries to dig herself out of her hole, Robin points to her dresser and you move with her, slightly intrigued to know what she had found. She starts moving around books and paper until she picks up a small necklace, scanning the desk. You assume she’s looking for some place to store it and you pick up the box closest to you, assuming it was for jewellery. Robin nods and you both widen your eyes when it turns out it’s not a jewellery box, instead letting out a soft melody. You hadn’t seen one of these in years.

“… that, like him, we are true academic scholars.” Nancy ends her argument, focusing back on looking through her closet.

Robin takes the music box from your hands and turns to Steve, whispering. “Holy shit, there’s a little ballerina in here.”

You let out a giggle and Steve turns back to Nancy, unconvinced.

“Academic scholar?” His hand points to you. “They’re giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah.”

“No, but… they will.”

You both turn around to see what Nancy was implying to find her holding two of the ugliest outfits you’ve seen, nothing like the comfortable clothes you opt to wear for your daily life.

“Oh, please tell me you’re joking.” Robin cringes and you place a hand on her shoulder, pulling a face.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

Steve laughs, tilting his head at the assortment of pink and baby blue hanging from Nancy’s hands.

“Well, if I’m not going then can I ask for one very important thing?” He prompts and Nancy nods unknowingly.

He glances between you and Robin, smirking. “Take lots of photos.”

Robin reaches across the bed and acquires a pillow, throwing it at Steve’s head who merely ducks his way out the door frame, still laughing.

“Can I not just wear black? Is that not respectable?” You practically beg, holding the outfit she thrust into your arms like it was a ticking time bomb.

“I don’t have black.” Nancy shrugs, “Other than an old funeral outfit.”

Your face falls and you sigh, looking down at it with an intense stare.

“What are you doing?” Robin frowns, refusing to touch her clothes.

“Maybe if I squint hard enough, it’ll look better.” You say and Nancy sounds out a protest.

“Hey, these are my real clothes, remember?”

“And they look good on you.” You say, Robin nodding along with you. “But only you. Not me.”

“Definitely not me.” Robin agrees but Nancy smirks.

“Well, you don’t have a choice.” She says as she walks out of the room. “Be ready in 10!”

She leaves you and Robin stood there holding clothes you hoped never to be seen dead in, disgust etched into your features.

“It’s just, what, an hour? Two at most?” Robin tries to convince herself, comparing the shirt on her body. “God, it even looks uncomfortable.”

“Let’s just get it over with.” You sigh, pulling off your jumper and throwing it on the bed when you realise Robin’s staring at you, that familiar red tint on her cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing.” She looks away, lips tight. Your eyes widen.

“Shit, sorry, I can go change in the bathroom-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable, I-” She takes a deep breath. “Anyone can walk into the bathroom, we’ll just… yeah, we’ll just change here.”

She walks around to the other side of the bed, slipping off her shoes. When she starts to fiddle with her own jumper, you both immediately turn around to face away from eachother for some privacy.

You felt tense as you strip away your clothes to pull on Nancy’s ones, and you weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad feeling. You had only known Robin a little over a day maybe, but you haven’t felt so comfortable around someone for a while, not since… not since Starcourt, the hospital. Maybe…

No, you think to yourself, strapping on the heels that felt just a little too tight, I can’t let myself think that.

Robin was a friend, maybe not even that at the moment. And you don’t actually know her well enough to out yourself as a pariah.

“How are you feeling?” Robin calls out with your backs still turned, fiddling with some buttons. God, she hated this. The outfit, not you. Fuck.

She notices your hesitation, making her straighten up from where she sat perched on the edge of Nancy’s bed.

“About what?” You ask and she frowns.

“I don’t know… in general, I guess?”

“I’m… fine. A little weird that I’m wearing so much pink right now but, other than that, I’m okay.” You respond and she slowly nods, reaching down to slip on shoes. Ugh, heels. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.” Robin says, standing up and immediately trying to find her balance. She wasn’t sure she could pull this off. “A little bit spooked, I guess, but hey, it’s Hawkins, what else is new?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Turn on the count of three?” Robin suggests and you agree. “One. Two. Three.”

You both spin around and immediately pause, taking in the new looks of the girls who definitely despised their clothes.

“We look ridiculous.” Robin blinks, turning to the mirror and gasping.

“I feel ridiculous.” You mumble, shifting the skirt that dug into your waist. Robin points to her reflection in horror and you shake your head.

“I don’t even want to know what I look like. I like ignorance.” You decide, walking over to the door. “Let’s go find Nancy and get out of here before anyone else-”

You open the door to find Steve, Dustin, and Nancy patiently waiting on the other side, staring back at you. Nancy gives a nod of approval, Dustin twists his face in horror and Steve starts grinning.

“What?” Robin asks as she joins you, eyes widening.

There was a sudden snap and you glare at Steve, the boy lowering his hand and hiding the disposable camera behind him.

“Have fun.” He says before dragging Dustin away with him, the younger boy still staring at you.

“It just feels so wrong.” He mutters and Steve agrees, disappearing down the stairs.

“Well, that makes me feel better.” You groan and Robin shakes her head.

“Nope, not doing it.” She tries to run but Nancy’s grabbing your arms, pulling you with her.

“Come on, you both look great.” She rolls her eyes, smiling. “Let’s go be so smart the director can’t refuse us.”

“He’s going to refuse us.” You comment, watching the way Robin itched to be out of her outfit, your own hands fiddling with the skirt. Nancy’s hand slaps yours away and you gape at her.

“We’ll be fine as long as we play our parts.” She reminds you both and you take a breath.

“Yes, mom.” You mumble and she rolls her eyes.

“Y/n’s right, I can’t breathe in this thing.” Robin complains, struggling with her heels, “And I’m itchy. I’m itching all over.”

“It’s not all about comfort. Okay? We’re academics.” Nancy says and Robin sighs.

“Who are evidently coming from an Easter brunch.” She says and you laugh, snapping your mouth shut when Nancy glares at you. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs.”

“Yeah, and why do you look good and we look like The Shining twins?” You ask and Robin gasps in acceptance.

“Ooh, good one.”

“Okay, how about you both just let me do the talking?” She asks, looking between you both. “If that’s even possible?”

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin stresses, pulling at the collar. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation!”

Before you could even walk into the building, a man in monochrome stops you all, eyebrows raised.

“We have an appointment with the director.” Nancy smiles and you force your own, hands clasped in front of you. The man simply gives a curt nod, opening the door and jutting his chin.

“Friendly.” You mutter as you pass him, focusing everything on keeping your cool. The last time you went undercover like this was when you went to see Mrs. Driscoll…

As the man continues to what Robin assumed to be the office, she turns around to find you stood there, adjusting the waist band once again. In a sneaky turn, she makes her way back to you, dipping her head to meet your eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Huh?” You look up, blinking. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… Just got distracted for a moment. Let’s go.”

You both return to Nancy in time for the door to open, a very brief greeting to the director behind the desk until you were all sat in front of him, trying not to sweat. You hated this feeling in your chest, some kind of fluttering darkness.

“3.9 GPAs.” Hatch comments, nodding approvingly as he holds the last folder; yours. “All of you. Impressive.”

“And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy holds out yet another forged document, the lie rolling off her tongue like it was second nature. There was a bitterness latching onto your throat then, remembering the last time she had looked you dead in the eyes and lied.

“Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.”

Your heart leaps to your throat. Fuck, you should have known that. You were in charge of the research, why didn’t you check to see-

“Eh, you know what they say.” Hatch says, raising his eyebrows. “Those who can’t do, teach.”

Robin giggles at his joke and you smile, nodding.

“Uh, yes. Yes, that’s actually why we’re here.” Her eyes dart to yours and you sense she’s afraid of messing up.

“We can only learn so much when we’re confined to a classroom.” You speak up and Nancy nods eagerly, smiling with you.

Hatch hums in agreement, “And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

He starts to slide the documents back to you and you bite your lip.

“I can see you’re disappointed.” He comments, “But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

The way he spoke down to you had your skin crawling with fury. This wasn’t the first time you’d been talked to like a mindless child.

“And we’d… we would love that.” Nancy tries, smiling again. “It’s just that, um… our thesis is due next month-”

“And you’re out of time.” Hatch cuts her off, raising an eyebrow. “Whose fault is that?”

You purse your lip, looking at your feet.

“Ours. Absolutely.” Nancy continues, hoping to appeal to his good side. You weren’t convinced he even had one. “We just- we wanted-”

“We didn’t drive all the way here to be disrespected.” You suddenly say and Nancy’s eyes widen in shock, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Excuse me?” Hatch blinks, reeling up to spew out more ridicules.

“Sir,” Nancy leans forward, “I do apologise for-”

“Don’t apologise, Ruth. Screw that.” Robin says this time and Nancy is almost staring daggers at you both. “Elizabeth is correct for being upset. The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really… I can’t breathe in this thing.”

“Uh, well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air.” Nancy says through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I should, Ruth.” Robin replies and you clear your throat.

“Director Hatch. Dr, I presume?” You look at him and he nods, frowning. “May I ask if anyone has ever had an appointment with you and gotten to speak to a patient of their choice before? Academically speaking, of course.”

“Well-”

“Hm, and how many of them were men?” You continue, Hatch struggling with his words. His hesitancy told you all you needed them to. “Right. All of them.”

“I don’t understand what you are implying, Miss…” He starts rooting back through documents and you scoff, taking him by surprise.

“You can just call me Elizabeth. Seeing as you never asked us originally if we were okay with not being addressed by our professional names, I can assume that you never bothered to learn or even look at what my surname might be.”

“Well, I-” He stutters and you know you have him where you need him to be.

“The thing is, Dr Hatch, I’m not even offended anymore. None of us are. Because if we were men sat in front of you right now, you’d actually be seeing us with the intention of discussing our request to see Victor Creel instead of inviting us here to simply mock us.” You say in a sickly sweet voice laced with venom. You turn your head to Robin. “Isn’t that right, Rose?”

“Yes, it is.” Robin nods, suddenly standing from her chair, “In fact, I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash, my boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field, they just don’t. We don’t look the part or whatever, but can I tell you a story?”

Hatch stares up in confusion and you hide a smirk, fixing the same glare on him as Robin rambled about summer camp, about how she was fascinated with knowing Victor Creel’s mind and you felt that flutter of darkness burst into something else, something a little brighter. You knew words could be a powerful thing, and you knew now that Robin was so much more than you realised.

“I wanted to be you!” Robin emphasises, breathing heavy. “So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get the chance to speak to the man that ignited my passion, and learn a little more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works.”

She takes a deep breath and you stand up, too, ignoring Nancy’s wide eyes.

“Maybe we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell us that a man like cry-baby Petey wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because we all know that he would.” You conclude, both you and Robin sharing that same fire in your eyes as you stare down at this man, unwavering.

“So… ten minutes with Victor. That’s all we ask.” Robin suggests, and Hatch glances between all three of you, sighing.

“Follow me.” He finally says, standing from his desk and leading you all to the door, letting his receptionist know he’d be out.

You and Robin sneak a grin to eachother, an amazed Nancy shaking her head in astonishment, leaning close.

“You guys make a great team.” She whispers and Robin smiles, feeling giddy when you reach for her hand and squeeze for a second in victory.

“Y/n?”

“Y/n, are you okay?”

Your head is thumping, trying to force your eyes open. You felt tired and dizzy, taking in as many deep breaths as you can.

“What happened?” You manage to say, clearing your throat. You can just make out Robin’s face leaning over from the passenger seat. You blink. Since when were you back in the car? “What…”

Whatever your question was to be, your mind interrupted you with a sharp memory.

“Did I survive?” Victor says with a low voice, his deformed eyes felt like they were staring into your soul, your heart beating erratically. “No, I assure you…”

His head slowly turns towards the bars, suddenly snapping to where you stood.

“I am still very much in hell.”

“You fainted.” Nancy says from behind the wheel, a crack in her voice. “Hatch found us out, tried to have us arrested. We needed to make a run for it so you distracted them…”

“I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispers to you both as you walk through the courtyard, officers trailing behind you.

“What?” Robin frowns.

“To the car.” She specifies, determination written across her face. You nod in agreement, already seeing the familiar brown of the wagon across the field.

“Okay, I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination.” Robin stresses, “It took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies. I’ll just slow you guys down.”

“I’ll distract, you guys run.” You whisper, walking beside the hedge.

“What?” Nancy turns to you, Robin sporting a similar expression of horror.

“I took track for three years, remember?” You remind Nancy and she tilts her head in contemplation. “I can outrun them and give you time to start up the car. I’ll meet you outside the gates.”

“What- is this really a plan right now?!” Robin hisses at you both and Nancy grabs her hand.

Before Robin can protest any further, you quickly swipe at the ground and gather stones, spinning around to launch them at the officers.

“Just follow my lead.” Nancy urges as she pulls Robin into a run and you sprint the other way, glancing back to ensure they were both following you instead of them.

The next thing you can remember is being tackled to the ground, an array of voices shouting after you. It wasn’t an officer, though. It was a patient, her wild eyes screaming at you.

“Curse! Curse!”

She had spewed that over and over until you manage to push her off, scrambling to your feet and cutting through the trees, making out the silhouette of the vehicle just leaving.

“You passed out when you got to us, are you- are you okay?” Robin’s brows are furrowed, looking at you with more concern than you think you ever had for yourself.

“Fine.” You shake your head, slowly sitting up. “I think I accidentally ran into someone and hit my head a little. I must have been dizzy.”

It was a blatant lie and you knew it. But the truth sounded too scary for you to want to focus on.

“What did I miss?”

“Uh…” Robin looks to Nancy and your stomach drops. “Well…”

“Vecna got to Max.” Nancy says for her and you lurch forward.

“What?! Is she okay?”

“She’s okay.” Robin confirms, nodding profusely. “She’s fine. We told them about the music and they managed to pull her out of it before anything truly horrible could happen.”

You sigh in relief, slumping back into your seat. “Thank god.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nancy finds your eyes in the rear-view, frowning.

“I’m alright.” You let out a breathy laugh. “I think I severely overestimated my stamina from five years ago.”

“Good.” She smiles, and you curl your lips in return. “At least we know something now, right? This trip wasn’t a total waste. I say we take a look at the Creel House, see if we can find anything else.”

With everyone in silent agreement, you all try to calm your nerves from the day.

“I wish we knew more.” Robin speaks up after a few more minutes of driving, shifting in her seat so she could see both you and Nancy. “I mean, we still don’t really know how to stop him.”

“And why only one at a time?” You frown and she looks at you questioningly. “Victor’s whole family was taken in a night, one after the other. It’s terrifying to think, but… but what’s stopping him from doing that now?”

“Maybe he got weaker?” Robin suggests and Nancy sighs, shaking her head.

“Let’s just take today as a milestone, get some sleep, and keep working tomorrow.” She suggests and you nod, murmurs of agreement falling from both of your lips.

Your head turns back to the window, sinking further into your seat. Nancy was right, you should be looking to the positives, not digging yourself a hole of disappointment. You were so sure this trip would answer everything, but everything wasn’t as simple as you had hoped. This thing was new and it was bigger than you could ever have imagined. In fact, the more you thought about it, the clearer it became that you still had a chance to walk away from it all. You were one plane ticket away from escaping again, once and for all. In two days you’d be at your grandfather’s funeral, and in two days you will have nothing else holding you here except the responsibility you’ve all put on yourselves.

No, you couldn’t leave. It wouldn’t be right to rub it in Max’s face that you can escape this when she’s bound to it. You owed her this.

She was the only one who actually cared for you when Heather died.

taglist: @kryztalglear / @dejerw / @officerrrfriendly / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @spacedoutdaydreamer / @endurexxsurvive / @em16cor / @gray-cheese / @chaosofmanyfandoms

i try to keep up to date with taglists but if i have missed anyone or if you would like to be added please comment below or let me know via asks! [if i have highlighted your username in pink, it means tumblr isn’t allowing me to tag you so please check visibility settings while i try my best to sort this out!]

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Prettier When You're Mine

Dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Author’s Note: Two more chapters on this one

Summary: One year into working with a young, bright and beautiful junior prosecutor, Y/n, who bears an almost uncanny resemblance to Andy’s late wife, Laurie, he finds himself developing feelings for her. Though, when she brushes off his advances, Andy proves that he’ll do whatever it takes to recreate his family.

Disclaimer: 18+ This work contains dark themes, including stalking, dub-con, infidelity and manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

Masterlist Playlist Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Weeks after her visit to Andy's house, Y/n makes an unsettling discovery and Andy reveals an even more sinister truth Warning: mentions of forced sex, mentions of stalking, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy

Twelve weeks Later

Food poisoning. Stress. A newly developed food intolerance. Some sort of undiagnosed illness. 

Off all the things that could have caused the wave of symptoms she’d been experiencing, two faint, pink lines on a little plastic stick was the last place Y/n figured she’d find her reasoning. Holding the edge of the bathroom counter in a white knuckled grip, she shut her eyes and bent her head. Sniffling softly, she felt a slow, warm trickle down her cheeks and it was a task in itself to quiet her sobs.  

It wasn’t possible- it wasn't supposed to be possible. 

Unless-

“Babe?” A knock on the locked bathroom door made Y/n jump, and hastily wiping at her eyes, she checked her reflection over while emitting a sound of encouragement. “I’m almost ready to leave-”

“Already?” After capping the test and shoving it into the waistband of the back of her pants, she pulled the door open abruptly, causing James- who had been leaning on it- to stumble forward a little. “I didn’t realize it was seven already.”

He glanced at his watch and flashed her a look of concern, “Its actually seven thirty,” reaching out, he cupped the side of her face and she tried to smile, hoping that the sting in her eyes would wait till he’d left. “You’re still sick?” He frowned deeply and then chuckled halfheartedly as he teased, “I thought you were better, you had half a pizza last night.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/n smiled faintly and laid her hand on his forearm, “I’m fine,” she lied. It was hard to keep it together, but the last thing Y/n wanted was to have to explain everything to James when she could hardly make sense of it all herself. “Its just um…my hair is being uncooperative.”

He didn’t look like he believed her, but played along anyway, “Looks great to me,” he bent his head a little too swipe a kiss off her lips. When he pulled away, James searched her eyes and furrowed his brows, “You’re sure that you’re okay?” He moved his hand to slip two fingers under her chin, “Because if you want to stay home, I’ll stay with you or-”

“I’m fine,” Y/n forced herself to smile, “Go to work,” she tiptoed and kissed him again. 

He sighed, “Alright. Alright. And you’re sure you don’t want a ride?” Y/n shook her head in refusal, already deciding that she had other plans and wanting to get out of her current situation as soon as possible. “Okay,” his smile faltered, “Well I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Y/n blinked quickly, barely holding it together, it was getting harder to lie to him by the second, and all she wanted was a few minutes to break down in peace, “Later.” 

“Love you,” James said softly before kissing her one last time, and with a subtle, unnoticed break in her voice, Y/n returned; 

“Love you too.”

Later that day

Letting out a long, slow breath, Y/n wrung her hands together. She was shaking in her shoes and barely holding it together; it felt like her whole life was falling apart while she’d been reduced to nothing more than a powerless spectator.

She was late to work that morning, having impulsively decided to detour to a local women’s clinic. A free one that time so she wouldn’t have to use insurance or her banking information- the last thing she needed was James finding out about it from anyone but her. It, up to the minute she’d seen the little grainy image on the blueish screen, Y/n had taken to calling the baby in her belly ‘it’. Because it wasn’t possible; it wasn’t supposed to be there. It was going to ruin everything. 

But then she’d seen it and within a second, everything had changed. She fell in love. 

And she was so scared of that love. 

The nurse at the clinic had been alarmed by her very expressive outburst; loud wailing and messy tears. She’d asked if something had happened to put her in that situation, if she needed to see a social worker or wanted a pamphlet on termination. Y/n had refused both. 

“Okay,” Y/n exhaled heavily, touching her lower stomach, “Let’s do this.” 

Another breath. 

Clenching her fist so tight she could feel her nails leaving crescent shaped bruises on her palms, Y/n knocked on the door. She would have just gone in, she wanted to, but Y/n also wanted to prolong her final moments spent in denial. 

“Come in.”

Another breath. A bigger one. 

Turning the knob, Y/n crept inside and shut the door behind herself. Her throat suddenly felt dry and when he looked up from his work, and when he flashed her an unsuspecting, innocent gaze she felt rage boil in her center. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at his house, Andy for one had seemed to have forgotten, making Y/n wonder if he’d been that drunk. 

She’d even started wondering if it had all been a dream because how could he forget when she thought about it everyday? 

“Y/n,” he folded his arms, “You’re-”

Late. For a lot of things. 

“I know,” she cut him off hastily, “We need to talk.”

It might have been her tone, or just the weight of her words, but Andy sat up straighter, relaxing into the back of his chair and knitted his brows. Frowning, he asked, “What is it?” Y/n hesitated, and he though he encouraged her to sit, she remained standing, “Sweetheart if you don’t-”

“Please don’t call me that,” she cut him off hastily, shaking her head, “You have no idea-” Her voice broke with emotion and she sniffled loudly.

"Hey," Andy crooned, standing and crossing the floor to come near her. Though, when he reached to touch her face, Y/n filched, and his jaw tightened in response. With a scoff, he raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped away to lean on the edge of a bureau against the wall while she lingered near the chairs at his desk

Peeved by his reaction but still crippled with anxiety, Y/n whispered, “This is really important.”

“I wouldn’t know, you haven’t told me yet,” he shrugged and she wasn't sure if his disregard was coming from his annoyance with her or just the fact that he seemed to enjoy seeing her vulnerable. When she still didn’t speak, Andy started again, “I want to help you, but-”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, refusing to look at him. 

Andy huffed, straightening his back as his grip on the edge of cupboard loosened, “Congratulations.”

Lifting her head, her jaw dropped when she realized his apparent amusement, “No, you don’t understand,” Y/n explained in a panic, “I’m twelve weeks pregnant and....." For a moment, she considered telling him about James' infertility, but Y/n didn't think she wanted him to know that much about her personal life. "It doesn't matter," she shook her head, "You're probably the father." Most likely.

Andy scoffed a chuckle, “I know. How's that for your ten percent?” 

Her lips quivered and Y/n felt like the room was spinning. As heavy breaths threatened to turn into a full on panic attack, she reached for the back of the closest chair for support. “What?”

“I know,” Andy repeated, licking his lips before he stood, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, “I know...everything. About James; the accident and his……little problem.”

Slapping her hand to her mouth, Y/n emitted a choked sob. “Oh my god,” her words were muffled into her palm, “You knew.” Andy came to stand behind her, laying one hand on her shoulder while the other snaked around to flatten on her stomach. There wasn’t a visible bump there yet, but there was a distinct firmness that she’d only started noticing earlier the last week.

“Don’t touch me,” as a whirlpool of emotions engulfed her, Y/n shoved him off, “How did you know?” 

A car wreck when he was sixteen temporarily left James paralyzed from the waist down and had permanently left him unable to have children. He’d been up front about the whole thing when they’d first started getting serious, and they’d even had a battery of tests run after they’d moved in together, just to be sure. For years, Y/n had promised, him and herself, that she didn’t care that they would never have biological children, and for years, it was true. She was okay with it being just the two of them for the rest of their lives, she was okay with adoption if they ever decided to have children.

But then she’d seen that couple at the doctor’s office and the most intense mixture of jealousy and heartbreak had overwhelmed her to the point of wondering if she actually was okay with never being able to get pregnant, or if she was just going along with it because she loved him. 

“Give a dirty cop three thousand dollars and he’ll show you the world,” Andy taunted, reaching out to touch her face and clicking his tongue when she slapped his hand away, “You don’t have to be upset, I'm giving you what you want.” 

“I didn’t want it like this!” She laid a hand over her stomach protectively, “You can’t do this to me, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Andy stepped forward to box her in, “Have a abortion? I know you don’t want that, else you wouldn’t be here right now. And don't you think for a second that you’re gonna pass my baby off as his.”

“Who’s to say you can stop me from doing either?”

The thought had crossed her mind when she determined that Andy was her baby’s father; she could lie to James and let him think they’d run into a miracle, or she could have an abortion at the women’s clinic and move on with her life. But Andy was right, she wanted that baby and lying to James for the rest of their lives wasn’t something she could bring herself to do. Their relationship had been built on trust and honesty, if they raised that child together and he somehow found out that it wasn’t his, he’d be devastated and everything they had would be ruined. 

And Andy deserved to know that he had a baby out there, at least, that was the fact that Y/n had convinced herself of on the cab ride over to the office. 

In an instant, Andy had her by the neck, holding her against the door. His grip wasn't tight enough to completely cut off her air, but it was firm and hurt. “You won’t,” Andy snarled, letting her throat go in favor of grabbing the the neckline of her blouse and pulling her up to his face, “You get rid of this baby and I will fucking kill you,” he shoved her against the door again, eliciting a frightened gasp, “And you tell him that its his, or try to run away or do whatever that brilliant little mind of yours can come up with and I will hunt you down and kill him with my bare hands. And you will never see this child again.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shuddered, voice quiet and scared. 

He was proving to truly be a monster. To be all the things she’d heard about him; the kind of man that could raise a murderer- because he was capable of being one himself. 

When he let her blouse go, his demeanor shifted completely. With newfound gentleness, Andy's eyes softened and he smoothed his hand over the wrinkles on her blouse. Trailing his fingers down her body he stopped to cradle the front of her hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles in the area a couple inches below her navel. “How can you ask me that?” He frowned, “I’m doing this for you- for our family. I just want our family back.”

A hitched noise contained in her throat followed the return of a thought she’d had back at his house; it was never about her. “I’m not her, I’m not Laurie.”

Andy’s long lashes fluttered as his gaze flitted to meet hers, “You’re not,” he agreed, touching her face gently, “You’re so much better. She was weak and stupid. She killed my baby boy,” he leaned his forehead against hers and while she was scared to the point of her blood running like ice water, Y/n didn't dare move away, “But you’ll protect our baby, I know it. You'll be such a good wife and an even better mother, I knew it from the moment we met.”

“I love my fiancee,” she whimpered. 

“No,” his mood shifted suddenly and Andy grabbed her by the shoulders, holding Y/n to the door, though not violently. “I see the way you look at me. You feel the same way I do,” he pressed urgently, “This is the way its supposed to be.”

“This the way you made it,” Y/n counted fearfully. 

He scoffed, bemused again, “Call it divine intervention.” Though his grip on her shoulders was bruising, Andy used his thumb to trace affectionate circles into the fabric of her coat, "Now,” his tone dropped again, “I’ve told you what happens if you make the wrong decisions. So you’re going to do as I say, and we’re going to fix this, together.”

[svcredveins]

Drivers heart rates during a stint

I love it when drivers mention how fast their heart rate was during a stint! Here’s one of my favourite drivers (Mathieu Jaminet) talking about Porsche drivers having a higher heart rate than most other drivers in a different car manufacturer. Fascinating!

I love on how there’s just so much heart related stuff in racing. Like I just cannot help always think about how their bodies are reacting to the stresses in the car - getting in/out of the car, in a battle with another driver, the temperature in the car, fighting the car if there’s an issue, the focus after a deep breath, etc. like it’s truly fascinating just thinking about it all. How their emotions are, how their heart feels, their adrenaline pumping constantly, their focus flowing, them fighting fatigue when in a full course yellow for so long…the human body is a fascinating work of art and the pure emotion of what motorsport has to offer is absolutely bliss. The highs, and the lows, it’s all poetic. Racing is an art, and it requires so much energy and dedication to have a fit mind and body in this sport. It is the best high you can get. But the greatest thing of all, is always coming back to even the most frustrating race. Why? Because it is addicting. It is an addiction that brings you a victory if you fight and fight and fight to get a sharp mind to withstand all of the circumstances in especially an endurance race like the 24H of Nurburgring or the 24H of Le Mans. I love racing, and this is my dream to become a Porsche factory driver, and the Porsche drivers are more on edge according to JamJam talking about him having a higher heart rate. It’s just so interesting! 👀

So every time him and Matt Campbell are in the car I just again cannot help but imagine where their heart rates are and what emotion they’re feeling; blood pumping so quickly from the adrenaline and working the car, also their chests rising and falling heavily after a stint and ready for a double. Truly, motorsport and emotions from the heart is poetic and are perfect combinations. Dreaming of being Porsche factory driver and being a cardiophile? Wow! What a combo! 🫀😍

I just need to be in one so bad. This is what I crave. Sure the sim is amazing and I love it, but nothing, and I mean nothing beats real life racing. Like get me in a Porsche 992 GT3 R or especially the 963, I am so needing it! Driven by dreams. That is what Porsche is all about, making dreams matter and making them come true.

Michi was also talking about her heart rate! Gosh I love it when they do! She drives for Lamborghini, but she also drives a Porsche and I am so glad the Iron Dames at least drive one in the ELMS (European Le Mans Series)! I honestly think it suits them a lot better because Porsche has the motto of “driven by dreams” and their motto is “women driven by dreams”. Honestly that meshes well with the Iron Dames so hoping one day they’ll go full on Porsche because Porsche is unbeatable! They even won at Imola yesterday so yep, they suit the Porsche a lot. Not to mention Porsche is so strong and always has been; relevant everywhere, always making dreams come true, always pushing, always having passion, motivation…I just love this brand. They bring a powerful message and they are also focused on women making dreams come true. Eeeek Porsche!

But yeah this is always wholesome looking at what the drivers say about their hearts. I love it. It goes hand and hand together. It is a feel that most would find crazy, but others would devour it, I’m the others, and yes I say this a lot but seriously, this is my dream - to drive for Porsche. Maybe the first female factory driver for them? No idea if there was or not, but anyway. I love it.

It’s so criminally underrated that hearts are the organ that keeps us alive and it’s so overlooked by many people. People don’t often see fascination of a human heart going up to 178 or even in Laurens Vanthoor’s case, 190 BPM, after an hour long stint in the car. It’s just insane! Let alone this is an underrated high. I don’t do drugs or alcohol and I can definitely say this is far healthier than that. You have to be addicted to this. You have to have pure passion for this. Because if you really wanna do it, then you will go for it. It’s pure bliss!

[frogcereal29]

Pls read this first bit <:3 just so u know what ur getting into:

Ok. ITS FINALLY FUCKING HERE. PLSSS understand theres little to no structure to these, just random little ideas thrown about, some of this shit might even contradict itself, but I've read over this like 4 times and if anything is out of place or misspelled lmk. NSFW WARNING, its all mixed in with sfw sorry😭 also there is an TW for SA!!! Its not in detail but I touch on stuff i think nikto went thru and i mention it along with abuse and him being burnt alive briefly so yeah :( you don't have to read that I'll put a warning before it.

And Now I present....

Frog's Nikto & Krueger headcanons:

- I think Nikto would actually love music, he's just picky. Please don't play some catchy radio-pop shit, the voices will be repeating it in his head for hours. He needs something loud and/or emotional that silences them. Or classical music, weirdly enough.

- He learned that from Krueger, who you would never expect it, but dabbles in classical music often. Like its not his whole music identity, probably only a third of it. But he introduced it to Nikto and he found the same solace in it that Krueger did. What can I say? Classical music really is just nice to the brain, even to mentally unstable guys.

- Nikto is bisexual, and is comfortable with it, despite his religious upbringing. And Krueger has NO label. He refuses to be bound by one. As long as you have gentials, are hot, and can consent, Krueger is stickin his dick in it.

- Both used to primarily swing towards women, but the predominantly male environment of the military brought out their deepest dreams and desires with the same sex. Krueger definitely swings mostly towards men now, but Nikto is exactly 50/50 split, just don't feel like he'd have a side yk?

- Nikto doesn't get action a lot outside of sex with krueger, and sex is rarely passionate/meaningful for him (he mostly uses it to relieve stress or cause he's bored, Krueger gets it. Though the post-nut clarity nikto gets is immense, but he keeps doing it anyways), and he probably doesn't feel attraction often, so I feel like he doesn't think about which gender he swings towards more. Just fucks whoever he can get some action with and goes about his life.

- I feel like despite everything though, Nikto is a lover, he loves his friends, he loves his family, his pet. Its just not the typical outward kind of love. You gain his trust and you have a friend til the grave, also he's for sure a family man, at least he deeply yearns to be. He knows he can't though, and that it's not possible (or safe) now with the life he's led, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't lay awake at night thinking of what could've been...five kids, a big house with a white picket fence, right back in the hometown he grew up in in Russia.

- he still wouldn't mind a partner in his current situation, but please don't expect a normal relationship with him. He's anything but and needs a partner that can handle it.

- expect silence, it doesn't have to be uncomfortable unless you make it that way, but if you're someone who enjoys carrying 95% of the conversation, or sitting in silence, you'll come to really enjoy his company

- good listener, you can tell all the tea and drama to Nikto, and he's not a diva so the drama dies with him, not like he cares anyways.

- CANNOT TRUST KRUEGER WITH THE TEA. He has selectively loose lips, if he gains some funny new information (potential blackmail hehe :3), he'll grab and run with it.

- Him and Krueger genuinely do love and care for eachother (and they have a freaky weird way of showing it), but they aren't dating. They still sleep around with others, but they somehow always end up back in each other's arms.

- I feel like this is partly cause of Krueger, who really isn't the type to seal the deal like that. He jokes and calls nikto his husband or boyfriend sometimes (especially if nikto is nagging at him) but he likes his options open. Although he would be lying if he said he didn't think about Nikto when fucking others... That man just does something to him.

- in those rare moments Nikto does find himself deeply attracted to someone, whether that's Krueger or someone else, he feels like a weak little boy again, his heart is beating fast and he can't even pin point the feeling until he finally caves and goes to the on-site nurse because the feeling of being this infatuated is so foreign he thinks he's sick.

- even prior to his facial deformalities, I don't think he had many girlfriends, he probably had some in High School, but I feel like he joined the military early on and put his work and life goals first and foremost before any woman (or man). Around the time he started finally thinking of settling and finding someone nice, the Zakhaev situation happened, and it just about killed his love life for years.

- This is my own dark personal hc, and please don't paint this as me being disrespectful (TW HERE!!) but I do believe he was SAed, along with being physically, mentally, and emotionally abused during his time there. Guys can experience abuse too, and having rep for them is important!! (Especially rep w/o it being comically charged, wtf hollywood😐) and I believe that anything awful that can happen to a person without killing them, probably happened to nikto, whatever he went through litteraly erased his old sense of self so like... It was awful, absolutely horrific. Because of this, he wouldn't let anyone touch him for the first few months back from being captive, he was aggressive and set off by things that seemed little to others, but sent his mind spiraling, bringing the horrors back to memory. it took being forced by fellow soliders to get him into very temporary therapy, (it lasted three months) at least enough so he could trust and work with people again and so he could get back to his job.

- (Another tw here!!) I also think he was burned, chemically, and with cigarettes, and I wouldn't be surprised if they doused him in gasoline, lit him up, and then put him right back out with a bucket of freezing cold ice water. He suffered so much shit that no human should have to go through, the fact he's alive should earn him a comically large trophey and a free trip to hawaii, he deserves it and so much more💔

- if you are close to him, you'll very quickly find he has subtle ways of showing his affection

- Man is an acts of service and gift-giving type of lover. Expect lots of russian treats, and jarred goods randomly appearing in your fridge, or wrapped neatly in a gift bakset on the kitchen counter. And expect anything around you that breaks to be fixed within the hour. Table leg broken? Blink, and think again! Leaky pipe? Boom. Consider the pipe, unleaked.

- I just know they are BOTH ass men. Ass and thighs all day, everyday. Man or woman, don't care, SIT ON THEIR FACEEEEEE🗣🗣🗣

- Nikto's entire face has texture. From scarring. Do with that what you will.

- Krueger has a tongue slit, as well as a shit ton of peircings, he loved body mods in his youth, but he hasnt worn any of them since he fled his home country. (The piercings he had specifically, cause I love piercings, as for anyone else who does too☺️: eyebrow piercing on both sides, bridge, snake bites, smiley, septum and both nostrils, industrial on left side, 3 lobe piercings on both sides, helix & forward helix on right side, snake eyes, nipple piercings, and yes... A prince albert to top it all off, like i said he sadly doesn't wear any of the jewelry anymore because it would just be more inconvenient for his job, but you can see the piercing holes are still there if you look close enough.)

- because of this, you can imagine what that freaky-deaky split tongue can do ;)c ur welcome!

- Nikto has a breeding kink. Like I said earlier, he wants to be a family man. If his partner is afab, he fantasizes getting them pregnant, the pride that would swell in him seeing them swell with his kids. this man will whisper things about your future with him, and your non-existent children into your ear like its the hottest shit in the world. But he always pulls out💔 (he won't use condoms, pulling out is the only method of 'protection' he'll use. Same with Krueger honestly.)

- when his sex life does get passionate and serious, Nikto feels like a Pearly Gates kinda guy (look up 'pearly gates sex position' if you dunno) especially if his mask is off and its the beginning or early on in a relationship. He looses confidence easily in the bedroom with lovers, especially if he thinks for even a moment that they might be unattracted to him. This position allows him the best angle to feel them up and carress their body, and whisper sweet things into their ear, all while also hiding himself from them (since they'd be looking up at the ceiling in this position)

- omg there so many nikto hcs here, i forgot all my Krueger ones sksgska

- Krueger listens to Mindless self indulgence, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

- Krueger knows how to play the drums. He learned back when he was a young rambunctious teenager, and now, he's a old rambunctious man :)

- I think Krueger always had a rebellious nature to him, he spent his teenage years commiting petty crimes in Austria with a gang of doggish boys like him. He finally killed his parents after a long history of disagreement and dissaproval with them. He was 19 years old and so fucking sick of their bitching, and when they found out he was doing hard drugs, they threatened to turn him into the police, he just couldn't have that.

- Krueger and nikto have matching tats somewhere, idk of what, but I just imagine one dumb drunk night, krueger got nikto all hammered and feeling riskque, stumbling around bars with him, they stumbled right into a tattoo parlor and got a small one, maybe tramp stamps, maybe right on the buttcheek or above their crotch, but somewhere they have something really silly or eachothers names tatted down, and neither of them want to talk about it.

- Kruger's names for Golem and Nikto is his phone are 'Ehemann Eins' and "Ehemann Zwei" and if he meets anymore men and gets close with them, they will be named and numbered accordingly in his contacts.

- both Nikto and Golem (yay golem hcs!!) Have their contacts for him as 'the fucker' but in their respective language.

Is this enough to post? Lol? I had more before the deletion cause I wanted a lot of hcs for ppl to read but I've seen how much I've rewritten and I don't wanna risk my dumbass loosing this again, so im posting it at the length its at, crazy it took me weeks to think and write everything down originally, but took maybe 2 hours total to rewrite it. Anyways, enjoy!! I can just write more later if I remember anything else!

[elsfleur]

⋆·˚ ༘ * TRUE BLUE PROLOGUE

ellie williams x reader

summary: being a miller is the closest thing ellie has felt to being safe, love no longer an unknown currency she felt unworthy of– though when she and her sister sarah fall in love with the same girl it is sure to ruffle some feathers in the peaceful life.

content warning: unrequited sarah miller x reader, pining and anticipation, mentions of marijuana usage, alternative universe plot, light nsfw content, based on this joel fic, this is only a prologue i’ll write it only if you guys want me to

word count: 557

🕊️ ʾ ⠀

sarah miller was the textbook definition of charm in its very own exclusive personification, from the bright eyes to the citrus perfume, she was a radio song that got you tapping your fingers to the rythym on the wheel in the midst of a particularly stressful day, a silver lining. ellie miller on the other hand, was more similar to beer or sushi, an acquired taste. a good fantasy for cold nights but not quite the company you’d aspire to keep in warm mornings. and it would’ve been fine, truly, neither of them cared for their differences or evoked sibling rivalry, together in all that mattered and oh so far apart in the aspects that didn’t– there was a homely peace in the miller household that exceeded expectations for such strong personalities and it would’ve remained so if it wasn’t for an unexpected similarity between the sisters: their taste in women.

“ellie are you listening?” joel cut her off from her thoughts, his voice managing to echo past the loud music blasting through her headphones quick to be pushed down to her neck as he beckoned the girl over from her place at the couch towards the kitchen table where her sister stood chuckling disapprovingly, pouring treats into small colorful containers “is she ever?” sarah joked, getting slapped in the arm playfully.

“what, are we prepping for a candyland party or just bulking up for winter?”

“sarah is having a friend over”

“a friend” ellie repeated in raised eyebrows looking only at the blush that crept up her older sister’s cheeks ever so subtly as she shook her head, sending ellie a small glare for the implication joel had thankfully not caught on “what’s his name?”

“her name” sarah cleared her throat “anyways it doesn’t matter the point was you need to help me get these up to my bedroom” she shoved two of the containers into ellie’s hands before trailing off to their inconveniently shared room she was apparently being kicked out from for the day. as they finally reached the door, sarah motioned her elbow to stop the doorknob opening bringing ellie’s attention to her confused, a shy whisper being mumbled and misunderstood.

“i said…” sarah sighed “could i borrow your, you know, your green today?”

“no girl is gonna buy that you’re a stoner if you keep refering to weed as my green you might aswell be calling it the devil’s salad you know that right?”

“jesus christ ellie i’ll pay you back”

“see you could’ve started with that” ellie smirked “do you even know how to roll a blunt though?”

“well if you can do it it can’t possibly be that hard”

“ha ha ha you’re so funny” she pushed past her to open the door placing down the candy on sarah’s nightstand “but seriously, who’s the girl? to get little miss goodie two shoes to start fake smoking she deserves a praise from me who have been trying to be a bad influence for years”

“hmm how do i put it in ellie words” sarah joked, but genuinely wandered in her brain “you know how you felt that time dad bought you a telescope and you managed to see a blood moon for the first time up close? that’s what being close to her feels like to me. all of the time”

🕊️ ʾ ⠀

[strawbeerossi]

Could you write a Spencer Reid x fem reader who's a witch and she gets Spencer to join in on her rituals/gives him readings etc and at first he's sceptical (joins in anyway for her) but then ends up secretly enjoying it, something along those lines!

Stars Align

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer likes to give his girlfriend a hard time when it comes to her spirituality and her Wiccan beliefs. Whenever she is sick and in the hospital for The Winter Solstice, Spencer takes things into his own hands to ensure that he invites only the warmest, most positive vibes of the season.

Content Warning: Mention of being hospitalized, mentions of Spencer being a brat and giving reader a hard time sometimes, ultimately just a big, sweet, fluffy mess.

Word Count: 1.5K

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I did it just a little differently from the ask but I hope you enjoy, anon!

A witch is an ambiguous symbol of power and the unknown, identified in pop culture references for their hate of kids and love of evil as much as for their capability to create and mend.

Witches have consistently reflected the zeitgeist, whether that be humanity’s views on women or the collective tie to ritual and magic. 

A witch in the modern day promotes a strong sense of feminism and power. It is deeply rooted in personal empowerment and is heavily influenced by the culture each witch has been subjected to. Currently, women who loved the wonders of spirituality, witchcraft and the connection to the universe had a relatively new title; Wiccan.

The enchantment of magic is that when it's truly personal, it's most powerful and possesses the greatest strength. That was simply why Y/N participated in the art of Wicca. Growing up with the negative connotations that her family projected onto the lifestyle, she had always been curious. 

It started out small, she went out one evening and bought crystals, feeling bewitched by the healing prospect surrounding them.Amethysts were her favorite for the power to have all her stress and anxiety melt away. As she continued to exercise her spirituality, she’d turned to reading numerous books on the subject.

She felt a surge of power go through her veins, feeling connected to a higher power that was much stronger than she could’ve imagined. While religion was somewhat of the same thing, this seemed so much better than what she was raised with. It was a personal journey, one that didn’t involve people at local churches or other sacred worship places.

In addition to her adventures into reading the numerous pieces of literature and delving more into the healing aspect, she also thoroughly enjoyed the rituals that came with Wiccan culture. She was particularly fond of the Summer Solstice and the Winter Solstice. The celebrations were things she took very seriously. 

For example, in preparation for Yule, she would spend days cleansing and decluttering the apartment, wanting to rid anything that didn’t let positivity and vibrance shine in the little space that she called home.

However, moving in with Spencer, her longtime boyfriend, definitely changed some things up for her. Instead of freely organizing things to be donated, regifted, or sold, she would have to stop and ask him if he was comfortable letting the item or items go. He wasn’t against her beliefs and practices by any means but she just knew that he was skeptical. 

Spencer was a man of logic, she knew that. He was the type of person who thoroughly researched, dissected, and tried to understand the intricacies of the world around him. Which Y/N would lovingly tell him that he needed to take a step back and connect with the world around him, to let his mind stop working overtime and let himself breathe. He never listened but.. She tried and that was all that mattered. 

She was usually met with many questions that were laced with skepticism. It wasn’t out of malice, she knew that. Most people just didn’t understand. The questions were pretty typical. “Well, how do you know there are really any higher powers out there?”

“Where is the proof that you aren’t doing all this for nothing?”

“Do you truly believe that those crystals have any healing power whatsoever?”

Despite his love for logic and research, Spencer did have a soft spot for the things that his girlfriend did. He never personally indulged before and yeah, he would sometimes act like a little brat and give her a hard time, but he admired how she never changed her belief system. Instead, she just did a little extra around their shared apartment to try and invite her scholar boyfriend into the spirit of the season.

However, this year was different.

Y/N ended up getting a bad case of the stomach flu on the days leading up to Yule. It was to the point that she needed to be hospitalized.

There was no mood for a celebration whenever she was gravely ill, barely being able to hold down any liquids or solids. It managed to crush her heart though. Instead of welcoming the new season, she was stuck in a brightly lit, cold hospital.

She would watch the snow cascade from the clouds and stick to the ground from her room��s window, looking similar to a sad puppy looking out from a shelter’s window and yearning for the opportunity to run and enjoy life. 

Spencer had been busy with work, there being a case that put him out in Colorado for two weeks and she still didn’t know when he was getting home. Talking on the phone with him helped her a small bit but she was at least hoping that he’d be there in person for her.

However, she knew what she signed up for when dating Spencer in the first place. She couldn’t be angry or upset with him, she just missed her boyfriend. Thankfully, after a few more tests, she’d be free to go back home that evening since she wasn’t needing to be kept nourished by a tube any longer.

Unbeknownst to his girlfriend, Spencer had gotten back from Colorado several days ago, enlisting the team for help as they were working on her typical traditions. Penelope was probably the most excited out of the bunch, getting right to work on creating a Yule altar for the coffee table, going a little overboard as she opted for a plethora of garland, candles, oranges, some pinecones that she couldn’t help but throw a little glitter on, crystals, and golden discs to call forth the sunlight that she’d already heard Y/N tell her so much about. 

While she worked on the altar, Emily and JJ were sitting with Spencer in the living room, awaiting his instruction of what he figured would be considered clutter and what needed to be boxed up. Most of it was old books that he’d had scattered throughout the apartment, which he had taped up the box full and was taking them to the trunk of his car. He wasn’t going to throw them out, no way. He just knew that this would be something to brighten Y/N’s spirits, to come home to a house that was already prepped and ready to embrace the new season.

Whenever the house was thoroughly cleaned and decorated, Spencer had a few candles ready for when she had gotten home, their notepads and pens laid out on the little part of the table that wasn’t covered by the altar that was made with love. “Alright. I think that should do it.” Spencer announced as he was letting his hands rest against his hips, his eyes looking around the living room that looked beautifully cleaned, organized, and decorated. 

“You’ve outdone yourself on this one, Spence.” JJ commented, a proud smile on her face while Penelope was nodding with excitement. “She is truly gonna love that you did this for her. When I went to visit her yesterday, she looked so heartbroken because she couldn’t come home and prepare.” There was a sense of pride that washed over Spencer. 

Even if he didn’t necessarily subscribe to the Wiccan belief system, he did know that this would be a memorable Yule for Y/N, it also proved just how much he loved her. 

Whenever the women who came by to help were making their own ways home, Spencer was just patiently waiting to surprise his girlfriend, knowing she’d be getting home at any given minute since they’d already had a previous phone call as she was getting packed up to leave the hospital after four very long days.

It was a little silly, Spencer feeling so giddy. It felt like his heart was gonna beat out of his chest each time he saw a car’s windshield reflecting through the open window.

As soon as he could hear the sound of the locks in the door clicking through, he was quickly perking up. 

The look on Y/N’s face when she walked through the front door was enough to make his heart melt in his chest. “I haven’t been entirely truthful with you.. I got home a few days ago so I could clean the apartment. Even if I don’t particularly understand your beliefs, I wanted to make sure things were prepared for you.”

He offered a smile. “After all, we want to invite in the new season with positive vibes, right?” His words were enough to warm Y/N completely, the bitter cold of the Virginia winter not being able to chill her anymore. 

After closing the door, she was hurrying over to hug her boyfriend, a tight embrace that was borderline suffocating. This meant the world to her. Instead of him being a brat and asking her a million questions or outright teasing her, he was embracing everything she had to offer.

That was a sign of true, pure, and raw love.

[thewriterg]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

pairing(s); thor odinson x fem!reader, loki layfeyson x fem!reader

summary; it was over in needed to be it had to be before you lost it before you couldn’t replenish your grip on the weight or was it already gone? —angstober day;11—

word count; 600+

warning(s); angst, one mention of women infertility, heart break, poly themes, reader is Mother Nature coded, and language

palylist; your face by wisp

A/n:—GIFs; @spookycora & @lokihiddleston— something short to get us warmed up

Loki knows he's done it, he knows there's no coming back from it deep down… but as the God of mischief he wouldnt take that answer there was a way that he would succeed in his task as he chased after you down the stairwell into the library that was once his that you now shared calling out your name

“Leave me alone Loki!” The echo of your hurt voice now bouncing off the wall of your ‘shared’ library you should've known, you should've known better to trust the Deity dressed in emerald green and God did it hurt your chest filled with dread it was heavy and once again you would continue to stress it, it hurt.

“Darling just listen-”

“NO! Great grief Loki i trusted you, after every instinct told me not to i did anyway, i am a fool” You started off strong until your voice reduced into nothing but a mutter and the raven haired prince attempted to take your hands in his resisting when you tried to pull away from him and the firm yet non injuring hold on your wrist and it stung him like nothing he’d never experience

“Why is it ALWAYS HIM!? Hmm? Why him love? The god screamed before bringing his voice down to a mumble as you struggled in his hold attempting to get away as far as humanly possible

“Brother! Let her go” The carried thunder and Loki glared at the blonde before going approach him with a malicious looking intent on his your body burned with a passion as you approached the brothers with thundering steps the currents of the winds becoming harsh on the outside

“Stop!” Your voice carries through castle and probably through the kingdom as well both of them looking like a kicked puppy at the stern, scolding, and coldness of your voice the life of the world slipping from your grasp it all hurt,

“Loki, it's not always Thor. You, you self sabotage because you think people will hurt you or abandon you… but you hurt the kingdom and you hurt me… Loki I thought the world of you” The prince heart broke in two at the sound of your voice that was full of emotion yet void of life and it stung his chest at the sound of his real name falling from your lips

“And Thor you don't have a balance in your life you choose every battle over what you claim as my my importance but I feel as nothing but a servant… This, this wont work it never has'” The brother stepped to you in protest that made you subconsciously take another back, away from the both of them

“That's not true little dove, we have succeeded we will continue to succeed” Thor denied reassuring himself more than he was reassuring you his icy blue eyed desperate for you to agree, begging for you to stay

“We love you darling” Loki stated firmly as if it was set written in stone for the next millenia to understand and study

“I want to believe you, but I don't.” That was it the hold of the earth was lost you hadn't had a grip on it any longer you felt the flowers wilting, the tree slouching, the soil becoming infertile as well as the women, you'd lost it lost your hold on humanity

Lost your hold on everything

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 13: call

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: you can't believe how much fun I have to write König (expect more for him in the future) After I created a whole past story line for Skadi I really think about writing like a 'prequelle' when we're finished the series, what do you think?

CW/TW: mentions of guilt, injuries, jealousy, hurt, comfort, fluff, trauma, unrequited love, smoking, healing,

wordcount: 3.2k

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Another week passed and a soothing mood hung over the 141. At least over the three men spending their time at one of KorTac's bases. Price declared the waiting of your convalescence as an official break. Him and Laswell had enough to sort out anyways, he wanted his team to be rested for the things that lay ahead for them. Johnny could convince Simon to at least hit the gym with them regularly now. Spending a few hours away from the sterile hospital room. Even if they we're on a break, it didn’t mean they had to go slack around. So, every morning they would pay the gym a visit, pushing their limits, before heading to breakfast and after a quick shower accompanying you. Today shouldn't be any different but it was. As soon as they walked through the door to your room, the heart from Simon stopped for a moment.

Your bed was empty. "That's weird.", Kyle said while taking his usual seat. " 's all ya gonna say?", Simon snarled while moving closer to the bed. He couldn't suppress the fear that something happened to you. Especially when he wasn’t here, when he could have prevented it. He immediately started to observe the whole room. The bed wasn't stained with blood, so at least your wounds were still closed. As his gaze wandered to your bedside table, he saw that the wooden box was gone as well.

Their heads snapped into the direction of the door as the nurse walked through it. A silvern plate with bandages and cotton on it. She looked confused at the men. "Where is she?", she said while placing the plate on the bedside table. "Yer dinnea ken?!" Johnny looked at her shocked. The women exhaled deeply. "Jesus Christ." - "How can you not know where your patient is?" Simon snapped, a small panic forming in his chest. That's when the door opened another time, and you walked through it. Still weak knees but you stood there. He couldn’t handle all the feelings boiling up in his chest as he saw you back on your feet.

"What the hell, Sergeant, what do you think you were doing?!", the nurse snapped at you. Your arms immediately flew in the air in defense, a water bottle in one hand and the common blue box in the other. The sleeves of the way too huge jacket slid down your arms. "Having a smoke.", your voice was soft, and calm. Still, you didn't dare to move. "Why did you leave the bed?!", she walked closer to you. "Ma’am, you'd kill me if I'd smoke in bed.", you smiled at her, still a bit weak but the cocky tone in your voice was undeniable. "You're unbelievable.", she sighed. You put your arms down and smiled at the boys. "Sorry." Kyle and Johnny couldn’t suppress a wholehearted and relieved laugh at the scenery in front of them and even Simon smiled behind his mask. Every ounce of stress left his body.

"Ya still need rest, Skadi. Were ya even allowed to leave the infirmary? Especially smoking?", Simon scolded you after climbing back in the bed again and you sighed. "How long are yer even awake? Dinnea think yer would run around already." - "Greetings from Captain Price. Why do you even have friends in KorTac?" The boys kept talking nonstop and you could only lean back and enjoy it. You missed them, this chaos, during the long dark silence. You were happy to be back with them. Even when you're still felt like shit, you were relaxed. To feel this familiar warmth again. You didn't dare to label it, because you were too scared that someone could take it away from you, but deep down you already knew.

It took you two more days till the nurse, you found out her name was Helen, let you leave the infirmary for small walks and even let you have lunch with your team in the canteen together. You still had to fight the immense pain and weakness, but it got better every day. The boys made sure that you didn't need to carry everything. You weren't even allowed lifting the plate with food on your own. One of them always staying close to you, like a lost puppy trailing behind and most of the time it was the huge scary dog, Simon Riley. "Guys, please, I'm not fine China. I won't break. What will you do when we're back on the field?", you exhaled while sitting down a slight smile on your lips. They couldn't prevent you from getting hurt again, but they would try, and Simon was overly eager to do so. It was his personal mission to protect you. He would never risk to lose you again.

He enjoyed being with you again. Especially the evening smokes was something he didn't realized he missed that much. They grew to become one if his most cheered routine during the last months. That's how you found each other on a terrace, next to each other in the comforting silence again. Nobody dared to break it, but you had to. You could only guess the internal fight he had. "Simon...", he completely tensed as you approached him with his name, and at the same time he felt his knees go weak. You didn't call him often by his first name, it was rather rare, but he hoped it would become more of a daily basis thing. Especially in those calms before a storm. "I don't remember much... but Johnny told me what happened.", you paused while exhaling a cloud of smoke. He was already finished with his fag. Mask perfectly back in place. You faced him with a look of endearment. "Thanks for dragging me out of there...and for everything else.", your eyes met his and he only nodded. You did want to tell him, that he shouldn't feel guilty, that it wasn't his fault, but you knew it was pointless. Million times you heard those words; empty phrases and they did nothing to ease the pain and feeling of regret in your chest. So, everything you could do, was to thank him in pure honesty, with a genuine smile.

Just as he wanted to say something, to extend his hand forward to you, he was interrupted, and an inaudible sigh left his throat. Maybe it was for the best, the way his heart raced in his chest made him feel uneasy after all. "We brought some bread, the younglings recommended it!", Kyle yelled while approaching both of you with Johnny at his side. It would be a lie to say that Simon didn't cherish those moments. All of you together, sharing some bidhs as Johnny called it, talking about everything under the sun. Hearing all of them laugh, relaxed. In those moments he forgot about the darkness this world had given him and even dared to think that he might deserve some happiness. That he might could bring himself to relax and enjoy. But his peace shouldn't be of duration. Heavy footsteps could be heard over the wooden floor.

Johnny's face slightly fell as he noticed the tall figure approaching you. "Du bist wohlauf!" [You're well], the low but all sweet voice of König reached your ear, and you turned around. A smile appeared on your face while standing up. Without a warning he threw his arms around you and pulled you in a tight bear hug. Bending down to press his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent through his mask. "Du hast mir so gefehlt." [I've missed you so much.] , he mumbled amongst your skin.

This hug was different to what Ghost had witnessed before. It was nothing compared to the quick and friendly embrace you shared with Price, or even that one time Johnny hugged you. It felt wrong to watch for him, still he couldn't avert his eyes. "I've missed ya too.", you said calm while parting a bit from him, still he kept his hands on your waist, not letting you pull away too far. "Still smoking Memphis?", he chuckled at you, and you nodded with a smile, your eyes trailing to the box on the floor before looking back up at him. "They’re kinda stuck with me." He didn't avert his eyes from yours.

His huge hands slightly squeezing your waist. You closed your eyes in response, pain piercing through your limbs, "I swear to God, if you keep squeezing my waist, I'm gonna punch you in the balls.", you hissed, and König immediately moved his hands from your waist to your shoulders. "Sorry, mein Spatzl."[German equivalent to dovie but with accent] You exhaled deeply. You missed him, of course you did. One year apart and you pushed him away like he didn't mean anything at all to you. Just like you pushed everyone away. Still, he stood in front of you, embracing you like you didn't hurt him. Treating you, like you never broke his heart. "Don't even think about it.", he squeezed your shoulder that didn't got shot. "I told you, I'm always just a call away. You simply should've called earlier, my queen." His voice could be so soft for his statue. It made you look aside, focusing into nothing as your head started to hang in guilt. He literally read your mind. Your eyes lingered on his wrist, on the bracelet he wore, it sat just over his glove. It wasn't as shiny as you held in your hands back then. Time has demanded its victims. "You still wear it...", it was clearly a fact but somehow also a question. König only chuckled, "Every day, since you gave it to me.", he reassures you. You didn't saw his face due to the mask, but you already knew the smile he wore.

It was Johnny who cleared his throat in one of the most dramatic manners you have ever heard. You turned towards him what made König draw his hands back, a bit confused. "I suppose you already met?", you looked at Johnny. "We keep meeting.", it was Ghost's harsh voice that made you blink in confusion. "How does it come you never mentioned him?", Kyle drew your attention, but your eyes were still pinned on the man next to you, who only stared on the ground in front of him. "We were teammates before parting ways.", you stated simply. König slung his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you in his side. "More than four years of kicking ass’ and taking life’s of the bad guys.", he stated proudly. "Still mad you'd rather accept Price's offer than mine.", he shrugged. "I accepted Laswell's offer." - "Noch schlimmer!" [Even worse] You rolled your eyes at him jokingly.

Ghost didn't dare to look at the scenario next to him anymore. Watching you hug made his blood boil already. His hands were balled to fists, his knuckles turning white beneath the fabric of his gloves. The only thing that kept him sane was the thought that the team could leave this place tomorrow. You did recover enough for the flight, and everything else could be taken care of back at your base. Far away from the Austrian. "Too bad you only returned to find out we're heading back tomorrow.", Ghost couldn't suppress his sarcastic tone, a smug grin behind the mask. König didn't react to Ghost, he just looked back to you, and before he could say something you only nodded. "We still have to catch up." - "I know." - "We can head to my office." - "Helen's gonna kill me when I won't be back in half an hour" - "Yeah, she can be harsh." König's tone became lower and lower with every word.

He didn't want you to leave already and you didn't know if it was good or bad, but it was weird how everything felt so familiar. Like nothing ever had changed, even after all that time. Those thoughts kept your mind busy. After Ghost insisted to guide you back to the infirmary, you lay awake in the sickbed. You didn't deserve all the kindness and affection König was so willingly giving to you. He should be mad at you, he was allowed to yell at you, just like you did at him. And still, he didn't want anything else than to spend time with you, to hold you. Something you couldn't understand.

It was quite early when Simon showed up the next morning, helping you gathering your stuff and picking you up for breakfast. Finally able to leave this room. You longed for your own four walls in back in the base and Ghost did long to be as far away as possible from the intruder. It's almost comical how time can change perspectives. Just some months ago he thought of you as such a thing like an intruder. A threat to the 141, and now? Now he saw people as threat that came too close to you and König was definitely the greatest of them all.

Johnny and Kyle already sat at a table chatting with some of KorTac's rookies they got to know. Kyle had prepared some of the usual breakfast choices of Simon and yours. Simon took the place next to Kyle and you just wanted to sit down next to Johnny as you felt a tall presence hovering over you. König appeared like out of the shadows directly behind you and placed his masked head onto your own. The rookies immediately stopped their talk, and Ghost clenched his fist around the cup in his hand. "Guten Morgen." [Good morning] his voice was still a bit raspy, his hands finding your waist again. "Good morning colonel, sir.", the rookies stated. "Since when you're colonel?", you asked still standing still in place with the weight of König's head onto yours. "Already said we do have a lot to catch up. Eat with me in my office.", he leaned a bit further onto you. Your exhaled deeply. "Please, Mäuschen."[little mouse] Just as Ghost wanted to intervene, his blood run cold. Your words totally cut him short. "Alright, darling. Let’s go." Even Kyle choked on his toast, while Johnny once more looked flabbergasted. König grabbed your plate, before anyone at the table could say something and you moved into the direction of his office. His free hand placed on your lower back, guiding you through the hall.

Did Ghost hear right? Did you just call that bastard darling? Without any joking or even mocking tone. It just sounded so natural. And how good this word sounded out of your mouth. Just aimed at the wrong person. His thoughts were running a marathon and the only thing that snapped him back were the chattering of the rookies. Whispering phrases like, 'that's her', 'didn't thought of her to be that pretty', 'but she still ghosted him'. It made Simons mind running even faster, his thoughts trembling over one another. "Yo, rookies. Shut it!", a dark voice shut them up and they straightened their posture. "Apologies, Sir!" - "Don't dig your filthy noses into the private life of our colonel. Understood?!" - "Yes, Sir!", a masked man stood in front of the table, turning his attention to the 141 men. "Your pickup will be here in four hours."

Those whole four hours were spent behind closed doors with König. His office was like a save zone; he didn't wear his mask. His scars letting you feel immensely more guilt than anyhow. You talked about it. You talked about everything, the way you locked yourself up - metaphorical and literal - not being able to burden anyone with your thoughts, how you joined the 141, the struggle of your current mission (without classified intel of course), what König did in all this time, how he became colonel and of course you talked about the two of you. Things you wanted to apologize for, things you did regret but he hushed you down.

"Are you happy?", he looked at you with his brows raised. You swallowed a thick lump you didn't remember formed in your throat. König sighed and cupped your face with his huge rough palms. Forcing you to look at him. "You deserve happiness, mein Engel. No matter where or ...", he paused for a moment, the words weighted tons on his tongue "... or with whom." You look bewildered at him; his face is relaxed more at your expression and his usual smile formed once more. A smile you knew too well. You stare into the crystal sky his eyes were.

"I see how you look at him. It's in your eyes. The way you looked at me once.", his voice grows soft, but you could sense the fractures of sorrows laying in them. "König...", a thick lump forming again in your throat. That is what you were scared of all the time. The way he could read you like an open book. The way you couldn't hide anything from him, especially something you wanted to hide even from yourself. And here you where, seated next to him so close and calling you shamelessly out. "You don't have to admit it, wirklich."[for real], he caressed your cheek with his thumb. Everything felt so familiar, it nearly hurt.

"Just promise me two things...", you can't help but feel nauseous. The way he looked at you, the way his touch felt onto your skin. You nodded only the slightest, signaling him to go on. "First of all, I want you to accept it, to embrace it and not to push it...him... away.", his voice was calm, steady, and assured. Still, you heard the pain that lies below its surface. His eyes shine at you with adoration, but you saw the pain behind it. Tears did start to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued, "Second... and I'm begging you, let me be part of your life." You bit your bottom lip, trying to compensate your emotions, but you couldn't suppress them. Hot droplets of salty tears ran down your cheeks. His thumbs carefully stroked them away. There weren't many living people walking this earth with whom you felt save enough to show your weakness to actual cry. König was one of the very few people you could be vulnerable with. But you couldn't promise this to him. A promise is such a big deal, and you would never made one if you couldn’t be sure of keeping your word. You've learnt that the hard way. "Ich versuch’ es." [I’ll try], you said between your silent sobs. His smile grew a bit wider. He gently placed a kiss onto your forehead before leaning his against the spot, his lips just brushed. "Ich weiß. Ich weiß, my queen" [I know]

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool @spiritndrain

[starlightsearches]

Hard one here… Clyde or Kylo??

Love you, Honeybear

This is a tough one, but I'm in desperate need of that big, broad, sweet man as my personal body pillow. I also wrote this in honor of me finally finishing my fucking masters program.

AN: this is all fluff! mentions of clyde carrying the reader a short distance, and some language

Make me choose and I'll write a fic!

You’ve fallen asleep on your keyboard.

Clyde steps into the trailer, holding the edge of the screen door so it doesn’t slam. He’d hate to wake you, and that thing rattles like nothing else—especially when it’s late like this and the night is quiet outside.

It’s a good thing he’s so careful, too. ‘Cause you’re not in the bedroom, like he thought you’d be. Curled up instead on his well-worn couch, cradled by the sagging cushions and using your fancy little laptop as a pillow.

Again.

“Sweet pea,” Clyde huffs, dropping to one knee beside you, shaking you softly so you won’t startle, “what’re you doin?”

You wake with a little jump anyways, eyes wide—afraid, maybe—until you see him, shoulders falling as you curl into the warm weight of his palm at your neck.

“Hmm, homework.”

Your voice is raspy, heavy with disuse, like it usually is in the mornings when you’re pulling him closer underneath the covers and has him going runny in his middle. Clyde wonders how long you’ve been dozing off like this, although the little square indents on your cheek are some indication.

“It’s a little late for homework, bug,” he tells you, glancing over at the clock on the counter. The power’s spotty out this way, and so the numbers on its little digital face are blinking more often than not—no matter how hard Clyde tries to keep up with it—this time flashing 2:12 at a steady rythym.

You frown, rubbing the indents from the keys off your cheek, “gotta finish this.”

Clyde’s not sure what this is, but he’s got a good feeling that you’re overemphasizing the urgency, as you usually do with most of your work, panicking about deadlines and due dates and papers and projects. But it’s always worked out in your favor before, and you're closer than ever to the graduation date—the one circled in red on the calendar stuck to Clyde's fridge.

Some of the regulars at the bar tease him about it, wondering at him if it has Clyde bothered that you’re so accomplished—a word that sounds like an insult when it's coming from their mouths. Talking about how they’d never let the women in their lives waste their money on some fancy piece of paper—which is probably why they don’t have any women of their own.

Clyde doesn’t mind. Always liked the way the stress ebbs from you when he takes you in his arms, rubbing soothing patterns over you’re shoulders, hearing you talk through you’re problems using words he doesn’t know and the smile that stretches over your face when you’ve finally found the solution.

It’s one of his favorite things about you.

“You oughta go to bed,” he tells you, cupping your cheek in his big hand, tracing a little path over the apple with his thumb.

You groan, low, shifting deeper into the couch, “it’s too far.”

That's something Clyde's happy to help you with.

His hands slip easily under your shoulders, and the crook of your knees, shimmying you in nice and close to his chest so there's no pull on his prosthetic.

You make another grumpy sound against his chest.

"Clyde, 'm too heavy."

It doesn't feel that way to him when he stands straight, walking the short distance from the couch to the bedroom. Much better than helping Jimmy off his ass when he's had a few too many drinks, anyway. He wants to keep you this close all the time.

Clyde sets you down gently over the lumpy comforter, but you don't even give him the chance to stand back up, pulling him on to you by the collar of his shirt.

He lands on you with a little huff, rolling to the side so he won't hurt you with all his weight on you.

That just makes you climb on him, head on his chest, one of your legs sandwiched between his. Even with his boots still on, smelling like stale beer, Clyde's never slept better.